Diversions

History Friday: The Handcart Saga

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(The return of History Friday at Chicagoboyz – a break from current events!)

Last week my daughter picked up a lavishly-illustrated book at a thrift store that she thought I might be interested in, and it turned out that I was, since the next book (a YA adventure, and sequel to West Towards the Sunset) will touch on interesting doings in the far West – in California, the Nevada Territory and the Mormon colonies in the Utah Territory. We had lived in Utah for three years when I was assigned to Hill AFB. Utah is rather like Texas in that both states have a rather distinct culture and off-beat origin story, at least in comparison to most other western states. The epic journey of the pioneer handcart companies from the jumping-off places in the Mid-West to Salt Lake City is one of the cultural underpinnings to the LDS Iliad, the foundation-cornerstone of Deseret, and an epic of faith, and self-organizing heroism not very well-known outside the LDS church. And thereby hangs the tale related in this volume.

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Christmas on the Northern CA Coast

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December 31, 2024

This year I didn’t want to make any plans for joining what family I have left (transplants from CA to MN), and decided to spend Christmas Day alone. Not that I consider myself to be a hermit, but I suppose an odd thing about me is that I feel as comfortable in solitude as with others. Nothing against humanity, but I can go either way.

Besides, I already have enough “stuff.” In fact, I think I have too much stuff. There is something to be said for a simple existence. The “stuff” can end up owning you.

Anyway, the thought popped into my head of driving up to the North Coast and staying at my usual haunt at Ft Bragg, The Beachcomber.

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A Memory – Christmas in the Barracks, 1978

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( I wrote this memory of a barracks Christmas when I first started blogging, and expanded it for my memoir – from which this long reminiscence is pulled. I was stationed in Japan, then, a junior airman assigned to the FEN detachment.)

All during the year, Thea and I had not given up on our idea of celebrating a proper Christmas in the dorm. We needed to develop a critical mass of people who would go along with it, and something of a sense of community in the barracks. Marsh was keen as well; she reveled in holidays, any holidays, and the foundation was laid over the summer when the three of us began cooking a slightly more elaborate dinner for ourselves every Sunday afternoon, and sharing with anyone else who happened to be hanging around the day room, bored and hungry on a Sunday.
“Bring a plate and a fork, and a chair from your room! That was our cheery invitation— there was a sad shortage of chairs around the dinette table at the kitchen end of the day room. The girls from the Public Affairs office, Shell and Shirl, and any of Shirl’s constantly rotating flier boyfriends joined in, as did Tree and Gee. The resident vegetarian fixed a vat of eggplant parmigiana, another girl, newly arrived, had the touch with the most perfect fried chicken I had ever eaten. I had bought a crockpot and constructed marvelous stews and chilis. The weekly dinner was well established and well attended, even after the dorm was converted from all-female to an ordinary Air-Base group dorm…

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Enjoy the Festive Season.

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It has long been my custom to post a Festive Season video, featuring vintage, or sometimes modern-retro, tinplate trains under the tree.

Word Press might not allow me to embed You Tube videos. Follow the link for this year’s video, which features only the vintage trains in the sun room.

At You Tube, the video is first in a play list, in which three or four of the ones that follow show what’s going on with the basement project.

It’s time for me to take that long winter’s nap (well, there’s a busy Monday of football first). Enjoy Christmas, Hanukkah, the holiday tournaments, the bowls and football playoffs. I’m sure national affairs will be no less crazy after Three Kings.

The Time of the Season

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Yes, the time of the season has arrived again, although seeing all the pumpkin spice scented and flavored seasonal stuff on the shelves of various retail outlets should have provided what is popularly known as “a clue.” (Along with all the autumn leaf and scarecrow and harvest décor things…)
Yes, Thanksgiving, followed closely by Christmas, featuring a centerpiece dish of what I used to call Eternal Turkey, Strong to Save. Thanksgiving when I was living at a home with my parents and sibs, meant a ginormous turkey on both holidays, followed by my mother’s schedule of dishes incorporating the leftovers thereof: plain old warmed up leftovers initially, followed by hot turkey sandwiches, cold turkey sandwiches, turkey a la king, turkey croquettes, turkey and noodle casserole … and when the carcass was stripped to bones, into the pot for broth and another two weeks of turkey stew/soup.

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