Out of the blue

I've never seen a single episode of the television program 'Glee,' although I have heard of it. I was not aware of the character Finn Hudson or the actor who portrayed him, Cory Monteith, who was unfortunately found deceased in a Vancouver, Canada hotel just on July 13th. Since I didn't know of him I also could not have known his date of birth which turns out to be quite a significant date for me, personally. Yet, all these factors came together specifically earlier mid-week before his death for me when I was following an inexplicable urge to find and listen to a particular song on YouTube.

The name of that song was "I'll Stand By You," and you can hear this beautiful melody with the poignant lyrics by clicking on Cory's haunting version that is within this article. When I found myself searching for this song I had no idea what the name of it was nor the name of the original performers nor any subsequent performers. In fact, I'm also pretty certain that I wasn't even aware of this song when it was first made popular in 1994 by the Pretenders (which was inspired by the melody by Johann Sebastian Bach's 'A Lover's Concerto-Minuet in G major'.) However, having won a scholarship for violin in my younger days, I was definitely aware of the song by Bach.

At any rate, when searching for this song, I listened to several versions by different artists for quite some time and kept sensing a type of 'melancholy' associated with it. I only had a few lyrics and stanzas to go by that were in my memory.  But even though I enjoyed listening to all these different renditions, I wasn't quite finding exactly what it was that I was seeking out. Perhaps because I never listened to any version that was performed by a male. Ultimately, I had to abandon this search as other tasks in the day became more pressing. So the matter went unresolved.

Was this an episode of precognition of Cory's untimely death? A tachyon, perhaps? An uncanny premonition? Subliminal awareness? Synchronicity?  Evidence of the string theory?

You be the judge.

©2013 Debbie Ballard

Container Gardening 2

I just came in from giving my outdoor plants their ceremonious drink at twilight. Sometimes they receive water at sunrise, but not today. I had to tie up the cilantro and rosemary with coated green wire as they were starting to get 'leggy.' And of course I spent a minute or two plucking off dead leaves from the orange patio tomatoes and lavender, so that they could concentrate their stem power on the areas that were thriving and producing. By the time I was finished, again, I had those lovely fragrant oil essences on my hands from these plants...what a divine gift of scent they leave!

This year, as the picture shows, my Kenilworth Ivy decided it wanted to 'branch out' in to the non-container world. It is the type of plant that, after the flower stalk is fertilized, it tends to retreat away from the light in to any crevice it can find. Therefore, the ' Ivy-leaved Toadflax' as it is also called, found it's way in between my ornamental brick corner with its tendrils cascading past my little toad garden statue. Rather fitting, I should say. But it didn't stop there...it firmly positioned itself in several other areas underneath a rather large, shaded area. This plant must like it here and I welcome the delicate lavender flowers it produces throughout the spring and summer. This dainty, yet robust, little plant makes an excellent ground cover or looks exquisite in a rock garden.

Thanks to this ivy wanting to 'explore,' my container garden is 'contained' no more!

 ©2013 Debbie Ballard

Company H, 17th Wisconsin Infantry Regiment

The Battle of Gettysburg, Pennsylvania during the American Civil War just hit a milestone anniversary this year on July 1-3...150 years! This turning point between Union and Confederate troops captured my father's interest so much that at the century-mark anniversary we travelled to that hallowed ground in honor of that iconic battle. His grandfather had served as a Private for the Union during his early 40s; considered quite the senior fellow in those days. One of his muster papers appears in the picture above.

My father, mother and I packed up our year-old 1962 VW bug and embarked on the long journey to Gettysburg and surrounds from our home in Wisconsin. What I did to pass the time in the tiny back seat of that car while traversing numerous states was probably to read, read and then read some more.  I don't believe we even had an in-dash radio back then. Oh yes, and I also watched innumerous landscapes roll by as my father's quota of "miles travelled" each day increased exponentially.

When we finally arrived in Gettysburg I wasn't expecting how vast the area was, nor the quiet and stillness it exuded. Travelling between monument to monument seemed quite the distance for a young 10-year-old girl. What I remember most were the split rail and stone fences dotting the rolling hills. The fact that at that time in my life I only recognized pictures or statues of Abraham Lincoln, Ulysses S. Grant and Robert E. Lee didn't really help me to appreciate what truly transpired there so long ago.

In fact, for whatever reason, I had a much greater affinity to Fort Sumter, located in Charleston Harbor, South Carolina, that heralded the beginning of the Civil War. We travelled to that setting, too. There was just something about the sea breezes filtering through the moss-laden trees and the architecture of the wrought iron balconies of Charleston homes that intrigued me. This is not quite understood by me today, as the black cannons of war were exactly the same in both locations: Gettysburg and Charleston.

On our way home, we paid a visit to my brother, who was then stationed at a military base in Columbia, South Carolina. It was rather ironic that this journey with my parents encompassed the past service of an ancestor, only to come full circle with the current service of a sibling. I guess you could call it both a journey of distance and time.

Knowing that I had a great-grandfather who served in the great "War of the Rebellion" is an honor for me. Being the youngest of a youngest afforded me that proximal link, for which I remain ever proud.

©2013 Debbie Ballard