Half-remembered hills

Over in the sidebar to the right, down past the Blog Archive list, is a poem by a Yorkshire lad named Neil Theasby (you might know him as blogger Yorkshire Pudding) that I included with his permission in 2013. I was 72 then and I loved the poem on first reading. I am 85 now and with every passing year I love it even more. I imagine that not many readers nowadays scroll down sidebars but head straight for the blogposts, so I am posting it here for your enjoyment:

Song for Lost Youth

Perhaps I should have cradled it
Like a dove
Kept it safe with tender love
But I squandered it -
Gushing-blundering-raging
Like a wild mountain stream
Desperate for an ocean
That was but a distant dream.
...I just never thought
That I could have loitered in the shallows
Reflecting the blueness of the sky
- Concealing silver fishes
- Quietly biding my time
- Stretching it out.
And so, and so it's gone now
- My ephemeral youth
- That precious once only gift
- That honeyed sweetness,
Leaving only the trembling resonance
Of distant echoes
From half-remembered hills.

--Neil Theasby, 2013. Used by permission.

I don't really think I squandered my youth but the fact remains that it is long gone and Neil's poem resonated with me. I hope readers of all ages will enjoy it.

Mrs. RWP (the lovely Ellie) and I celebrate our 63rd wedding anniversary this month. We have three children currently aged 58, 60, and almost 62. We have six adult grandchildren ranging in age from 25 to 30. We are happily anticipating the birth of our fourth great-grandson in early June. The song "Sunrise, Sunset" from Fiddler On The Rood was sung at our daughter's wedding in 1993 as the parents of the bride and groom were escorted to their seats, and its words are even sweeter today:

Sunrise, Sunset

Is this the little girl I carried,
Is this the little boy at play?
I don't remember growing older,
When did they?

When did she get to be a beauty,
Wwhen did he grow to be so tall?
Wasn't it yesterday
When they were small?

Sunrise, sunset,
Sunrise, sunset,
Swiftly flow the days.
Seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers,
Blossoming even as we gaze.

What words of wisdom can I give them,
How can I help to ease their way?
Now they must learn from one another,
Day by day.

Sunrise, sunset,
Sunrise, sunset,
Swiftly fly the years
One season following another,
Laden with happiness and tears.

Sunrise, sunset,
Sunrise, sunset,
Swiftly fly the years
One season following another,
Laden with happiness,
And tears.

I may be a sentimental old man now but I have memories, sweet ones and some not so sweet.

And yes, distant echoes from half-remembered hills.

Now it can be told

For the last 15 months I have been writing a book and it is now finished.

For Christmas 2024, our oldest son and his wife gave me a subscription to Storyworth. I would be sent a question every week for a year and my responses would be made into a book at the end of the year. I did receive 52 questions during 2025 but life got in the way at times and I responded to only 29 of them. I was given another three months to edit and get the book ready for publication, which I did [edit and get the book ready for publication] and on March 29 of this year it was, as I said, finished. It has 158 pages, it is called Stories Of My Life, and there are four hardback copies of it in existence besides the pdf file on my computer.

Perhaps my life will now return to more or less what used to pass for normal. Then again, perhaps it will not, which, of course, is an altogether different kettle of fish from it cannot.

I ended my book with words from The Rubaiyat Of Omar Khayyam:

The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.

not because I am pretentious (the jury is still out, I think) but just because I wanted to and I could because it is in the public domain.

Meanwhile, the world has been going on. Assassinations occur with regularity and for many reasons (Charlie Kirk, the Ayatollah Khomeini), leaders are replaced (goodbye Orban, hello Magyar), straits open and close (Hormuz) and some things never change (Vladimir Putin, Britney Spears, Nancy Pelosi).

Perhaps one result of my having finished my book will be that the number of my blogposts per month will return to former levels. I hope so, but I'm not promising anything. After all, as you may have learned recently, I am 85.

Somewhere someone is rolling his or her eyes and thinking, "There's no fool like an old fool".

Our three little babies are now 61, 60, and 58 and our next wedding anniversary will be our 63rd. Time flies when you're having fun, n'est-ce pas? (and sometimes even when you're not).

The correct answer is oui.

Anyhoo, I'm more or less back and I trust that my vast reading audience is more or less happy about it.

Demonyms 'R' Us

Demonyms have nothing to do with demons, in case you were wondering. According to Merriam-Webster (that's a dictionary), a demonym is "a word (such as Nevadan or Sooner) used to denote a person who inhabits a particular place".

I know that people from London are Londoners and people from Liverpool are Liverpudlians. I know that people in the British Isles are Irish or Scottish or English or Welsh, but what about people who identify with the historic English counties like Yorkshire, Essex, Wessex, and so forth? Maybe Janice or Neil or Rachel can help here.

What are people who live in the various Australian states called? You know, New South Wales, Queensland, Victoria, and so forth. Maybe kylie can help here.

What about the provinces of Canada? British Columbia, Alberta, Saskatchewan, Manitoba, Ontario, Quebec, and so forth. Is Saskatchewanian a word? Maybe Red (Keith) can help here.

The 50 states in the United States cause confusion enough when it comes to demonyms. Some are easy but some make me scratch my head. There is no pattern for choosing -an or -ian as an ending. Do you agree or disagree with the following list? Help me out here:

1. Alabaman or Alabamian?
2. Alaskan
3. Arizonian?
4. Arkansawyer?
5. Californian
6. Coloradoan? Coloradan?
7. Connecticuter? Connecticutsan?, Also Nutmegger
8. Delawarian?
9. Floridian
10. Georgian
11. Hawaiian
12. Idahoan
13. Illinoisan? Illini?
14. Indianan?
15. Iowan
16. Kansan (why not Kansasan or Kansasian or Kansaser or Kansasite?). Also Jayhawker.
17. Kentuckian
18. Louisianan?
19. State of Mainer (no matter how much you like Maniac)
20. Marylander
21. Massachusettsan?, Bay Stater?, Massacusite
22. Michigander (fitting for a male, but shouldn't a female be a Michigoose?)
23. Minnesotan? Minnesotian?
24. Mississippian
25/ Missourian
26. Montanan?
27. Nebraskan. Also Cornhusker.
28. Nevadan
29. New Hampshirian? New Hampshirite?
30. New Jerseyite?
31. New Mexican
32. New Yorker
33. North Carolinian
34. North Dakotan
35. Ohioan
36. Oklahoman. Also Sooner.
37. Oregonian
38. Pennsylvanian
39. Rhode Islander
40. South Carolinian
41. South Dakotan
42. Tennesseean
43. Texan (originally it was Texian, actually)
44. Utahan
45. Vermonter
46. Virginian
47. Washingtonian
48. West Virginian
49. Wisonsinite? Wisconsiners? Also Cheese Heads
50. Wyomingite? Wyominger?

Do you even care? Many don't. As the old saying goes, "I don't care what you call me as long as you don't call me late for dinner."

For those who do care, however, give me your opinions in the comments. Maybe we can reach a consensus.

If your nose runs and your feet smell, you’re built upside down

That is the default title I have decided to use when I can't decide what to call a post. I think the statement was made originally by either Steven Wright or Rita Rudner but I really can't say for sure.

My nose is fine and my feet are fine. What I really am is giddy because day after tomorrow I will be

and I am beside myself. Not literally, of course, but there is a photo of me at age three over there to the right, so in an odd sort of way I am. Beside myself, that is.

I thought about calling this post "Earwigs R Us" because I have had a slew of musical pieces running through my head lately like "How Do You Solve A Problem Like Maria?" and "Everything's Up-To-Date In Kansas City" and the Bach-Gounod version of "Ave Maria" (I'm not even Catholic) and "My Darling Clementine" and John Rutter's beautiful setting of "For The Beauty Of The Earth" and I could go on but I won't.

What I probably should have called this post is There's No Fool Like An Old Fool. I don't like to think that I might be a fool (there is growing evidence) but there's no getting around the fact that I am definitely old.

We have had some sadness in our extended family recently. Our daughter's mother-in-law and father-in-law died suddenly within two weeks of each other. She was 81 and he was 93. So I'm treating 85 as a major accomplishment, or at least a milestone.

What I'm also doing is thanking God for every breath I take. One never knows when one of those breaths will turn out to be one's last.

On that happy or macabre (pick one) note, I shall now run this post up the proverbial flagpole and see if anyone salutes.

Any Texan worth his or her salt knows what today is

...and since I, an expatriate Texan since 1961, still count myself among that crowd [Texans worth their salt], let me be the first, and probably the last, to remind you of today's significance.

Today is the 190th anniversary of the end of the 12- or 13-day siege and battle in San Antonio that culminated in the fall of the Alamo during the Texas Revolution in 1836. It was on this day that a force of 2,000 (give or take) Mexican soldiers under the leadership of one Antonio de Padua María Severino López de Santa Anna y Pérez de Lebrón, more commonly known as General Santa Anna, slaughtered almost every single one of the 185 (give or take) Texans inside the edifice known as the Alamo. A survivor or two were spared to bear the news of the defeat to other residents of Texas.

It was in this battle that such hallowed Texan heroes as William B. Travis, James Bowie, and Davy Crockett gave what Abraham Lincoln might call their last full measure of devotion (he used that phrase on another occasion in 1863 in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania).

It was this battle that inspired the battle cry "Remember the Alamo!" (as did, it must be admitted the Battle of Goliad inspire the companion battle cry "Remember Goliad!") used at the decisive Battle of San Jacinto near Houston six weeks later on April 21, 1836, where the Texas forces defeated General Santa Anna once and for all and gained their independence from Mexico.

Texas remained an independent republic until 1845, at which time it was annexed into the United States. It never underwent territory status, and as part of the annexation agreement can divided itself into as many as five states any time it decides to. It is unlikely that any part of Texas will be willing to sever ties with the Alamo.

You can look up all the gory details details for yourself elsewhere if you so desire. Otherwise, you may now continue with your day and pursue the mundane and humdrum activities that are calling your name.

A blast from the past

...or, if you wish, Throwback Thursday on a sunny Saturday morning.

Below is a song you probably haven't heard or sung in years and years. It occurs to me that if you were not brought up in the U.S. you may not have sung it at all. But no matter. Now is the perfect time to do it. It sprang to life in my brain today, unbidden, full-grown, just like Athena purportedly did from the forehead of Zeus. (Truth in blogging: I do not accept as true any so-called facts recorded in ancient Greek myths. Be that as it may, enjoy!):


"She'll Be Coming 'Round The Mountain"

She'll be coming round the mountain when she comes (toot, toot!)
She'll be coming round the mountain when she comes (toot, toot!)
She'll be coming round the mountain, she'll be coming round the mountain,
She'll be coming round the mountain when she comes (toot, toot!)

She'll be driving six white horses when she comes (whoa, back!)
She'll be driving six white horses when she comes (whoa, back!)
She'll be driving six white horses, she'll be driving six white horses,
She'll be driving six white horses when she comes (whoa, back!)

Oh, we'll all go out to meet her when she comes (hi, babe!)
Oh, we'll all go out to meet her when she comes (hi, babe!)
Oh, we'll all go out to meet her, we'll all go out to meet her,
We'll all go out to meet her when she comes (hi, babe!)

She'll be wearing red pajamas when she comes (scratch, scratch)
She'll be wearing red pajamas when she comes (scratch, scratch)
She'll be wearing red pajamas, she'll be wearing red pajamas,
She'll be wearing red pajamas when she comes (scratch, scratch)

Oh, she'll have to sleep with Grandma when she comes (snore, snore)
Oh, she'll have to sleep with Grandma when she comes (snore, snore)
Oh, she'll have to sleep with Grandma, she'll have to sleep with Grandma,
Oh, she'll have to sleep with Grandma when she comes (snore, snore)

(source: https://www.lyricsondemand.com/miscellaneouslyrics/childsongslyrics/shellbecomingroundthemountainlyrics.html)

As if that weren't enough, I know two more verses that the cited source does not include. They should be inserted just before the final verse:

Oh, we'll all have chicken and dumplings when she comes (yum, yum)
Oh, we'll all have chicken and dumplings when she comes (yum, yum)
Oh, we'll all have chicken and dumplings, Oh, we'll all have chicken and dumplings,
Oh, we'll all have chicken and dumplings when she comes (yum, yum)

Oh, we'll all have biscuits and gravy when she comes (slurp, slurp)
Oh, we'll all have biscuits and gravy when she comes (slurp, slurp)
Oh, we'll all have biscuits and gravy, Oh, we'll all have biscuits and gravy,
Oh, we'll all have biscuits and gravy when she comes (slurp, slurp)

So there are seven verses in all. Now go back and sing that song over again, this time inserting the additional verses. I'll wait now while you do it. Return to the next paragraph when you are finished.

Surprise, you are not finished! To sing the song the way we used to sing it, build upon the previous parenthesized stuff in the last line of each verse. That is, the last line of the second verse is "toot, toot! whoa, back!"; the last line of the third verse is "toot, toot! whoa, back! hi, babe!" and so on through all seven verses. For the cherry on top, don't just say "snore, snore" at the end of the seventh verse; make actual snoring sounds instead.

Now go back and re-live your childhooe, I mean my childhood.

You have just wasted valuable time that you will never regain, but wasn't it a lot of fun?

The world may well be going to Hell in a handbasket but I'm definitely in my second (or third or fourth) childhood. I've reached the age (or mental state) where I sometimes don't care any more. Well, I do care, but that is a post for another day.

An end-times lament bubbles to the surface

I wrote the following words more than 20 years ago. They are more than a poem. They are lyrics to a song for which I also wrote the music.


"Perhaps Today"

Perhaps today....
Perhaps today the Lord will come for His own.
Perhaps today we'll worship Jesus 'round His throne.
The skies will part and with a shout Christ will appear.
It's very near,
Perhaps today.

Perhaps today....
Perhaps today the Lord will catch away His Bride.
Perhaps today we'll see His hands, His feet, His side.
Oh, how we're looking for our Savior's soon return.
How our hearts yearn.
Perhaps today.

Perhaps today....
The shining Daystar will arise within my heart.
The dark of night will end, eternal day will start.
The Lord has promised to return. God is not slack.
He's coming back,
Perhaps today.

Perhaps today....
We'll be with Christ in glory on that blissful shore.
We'll praise and magnify His name forevermore.
The Lamb of God will be the object of our song.
Oh, Lord, how long?
Perhaps today.
Oh, Lord, how long?
Perhaps today!


Neither the poem nor the music has ever been published. The state of the world being what it is nowadays, however, I decided to share the poem here on my blog today.