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With Lad and Dan able to get home frequently, Ced is the only one receiving regular letters at this point, although Lad and Dan are probably receiving their own copies also.

Cedric Duryee Guion

Trumbull, Conn., Sept. 27, 1942

Dear Alumni:

‘Tis one of those heavy dull days, damp within and without, that seem to permeate into one’s brain cells and arouse enough enthusiasm to induce a nap. The only event to lift one temporarily out of the state of sluggishness was having Lad home with us again for Sunday dinner, he having hitchhiked from Aberdeen and surprisingly, making the trip in less time than he would by train on an overall basis. He reports having driven his car down last Sunday without mishap of any sort. Tires held up and gas held out. He will probably sell it if he gets an attractive offer or is transferred to California…

‘Voices from Vietnam’ by: Kayleen Reusser

VOICES FROM VIETNAM

by:  Kayleen Reusser

Vietnam was the 10-year “Police Action” that developed and escalated in my generation’s  youth.  We saw casualty lists in the newspapers increasing daily.  Here in Kayleen Reusser’s book are interviews with the troops that managed to survive the horror that was the Vietnam War.

Keyleen Reusser

In this book, a background story is given for each contributor, their branch of military, method of service and then, what they experienced.  But the pains of war did not stop with their return home.  These gallant people told Kayleen of what they ran into upon returning to the United States.  The events, such as protesters, and name calling, are embarrassing, disheartening and downright disappointing to know how the people of this country were behaving toward these troops.

Despite the home front’s utter fear of the draft and disapproval of the…

I have devoted several posts lately to the beautiful display of indigenous yellow flowers that have brightened the veld this spring. These are gradually losing their lustre and are being replaced by a variety of cream, creamy-white or white flowers. This is what the open veld on the edge of town looked like on my walk on Friday morning.

Here is a closer view of these splashes of white.

A different variety of creamy flowers form much thicker clumps further along the road.

A closer view of them reveals some unexpected colour.

Then there are some trees that stand out thanks to their creamy flowers bobbing in the wind.

These too look beautiful from close-up.

On top of this mountain

I walk into the fog braver than if there was no fog.

To blend in.

To be inconspicuous.

To lose the weight we carry

When we are obvious.

To just be.  Unobvious.

There.

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