Today was a big day for one of my young nieces--she graduated eighth grade. When school starts again she will be in high school and before long leaving the nest the way fledglings do.
Which brings me to what happened after I returned to my little house. I found a starling in my kitchen. There was no open windows or doors or any way that I could find for it to have entered.
I spent quite a while trying to get it out through an open door but the critter was territorial in the fact it tried to beat me up.
A bird newly arrived in my kitchen wanted me gone. Yep that was my territory the dratted thing had invaded! I went and got one of my young relatives hoping to chase the thing away.
I won't go into detail but needless to say it seemed more a case of keystone kops or three stooges than anything. So when my young friend Fairweather accuses me of being territorial I guess I have to admit it. Does anyone have a method to keep the birds from coming back

I hate to tell a certain Mr Banfill he has been conned. Roscoe never had a brother Redd and the only Ty in his connections was an elderly gentleman he shared a cell with many long years ago.

Roscoe Petross Willows, like his sister Sadie, has been many things over the years and most illegal. You can see why the family was so happy when he got an HONEST job with a NASCAR crew. Now that is in danger if we don't round that diabolical set of siblings up soon.

Sadie and Roscoe called my cell last night bragging about their little escapades since last I talked to them. Oh goodness, They did make it to Baja where they ditched the truck, it was empty by then anyhow. They caught a ride in a truck load of farmworkers heading toward Georgia then jumped ship when they found a man heading toward New York. Sadie suddenly had a yearning to see some tv show host in NYC. They did the side stop when they realized Mr Banfill was in that neck of the woods.

The jailbreak that was taking place while Willard and I were at Sylvia's hometown turned out to be another pair of runaways. Thank goodness.

Well, they are still trying to find a way into that show.

We're on our way with Sadie's pink butterfly net. More later.

Willard and I left our little East Tennessee town with great trepidation yesterday. We’re on Madame Sadie’s trail. We had been hoping she would hide out south of the border for just a little while and give us some much needed rest but apparently that was not to be at all. Stay tuned as we attempt to capture and return with her before she gets into real trouble.

Memorial Day was started as a way of remembering those who died during the Civil War. Which leads to my tale.

There is a cemetery near where I lived that has a legend attached to it.

Forty years after the Civil War the family that lived closest to the graveyard noticed an odd occurance. Every year on the same night a bright light shown out of the graveyard. The oldest son decided to find out what was happening. So he hid out amongst the stones waiting. About midnight he saw a light seeming to move from one side of the cemetery to the other. The eerie light glowed and seemed to expand. He crept closer and closer until he could see an unbelievable sight.

A woman in black with a black veil was placing a small bouquet of posies on a grave surrounded by other graves. The odd thing was he could see through her. He blinked several times trying to make sense of this. Finally she turned and went back the way she came. Next to the small fence she seemed to disappear. There was a lone grave with no marker.

The next day he talked to the oldest man in the church.

"That grave belongs to old Mrs Grubb. She was the last of her family to go. She survived her only son by thirty years."

"Did she visit her son's grave?"

"Sure did son. Every year on the day he died and put a small bunch of flowers there. Stopped the day she got sick and died."

"Why didn't they put her with him?"

"No room. A lot of soldiers buried all around him."

In this cemetery even the dead remember their soldiers. So on this Memorial day remember those that have fallen-- either in war or that served and died later. It doesn't matter whether you believe in wars or not. It does matter that these soldiers are remembered.

In Shirley Temple's movie "The Bluebird of Happiness" (1940) there is a quote that says "you are not truly gone as long as someone remembers you."

In Mrs Grubb and her son's case even death couldn't stop the memory.

Take care my friends!