HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

Rocky and I are very much looking forward to our Thanksgiving company, Rosalie and Leslie Rosebrock. So to all our blog friends, have a blessed Thanksgiving Day and a blessed rest of the year!

MimiRock at Castle Yonder

Veterans Day

These are two pictures of my son-in-law, Tom Hohmann, who I honor today on Veteran's Day. Tom is a Vietnam Marine veteran, and currently serves as Secretary of the California State Council for the Vietnam Veterans Of America.

Not only am I proud of that but also that he joined our family by marrying my daughter, Sherry, in 1990.

Tom served in the Marines from April, 1968 to 1972 and identifies well with the old adage, "War is Hell." He was hospitalized three times in Vietnam, once for wounds and twice for malaria.

To those of us who remember the '60's, we all know that the attitude towards active soldiers was different than it is today toward the Gulf War and Iraq and Afghanistan soldiers and veterans. People go out of their way now to say they support our troops even though they hate the war. Back then, people hated the war and the soldiers; they held the soldiers as responsible for the Vietnam War as the officials who sent them there to fight Communism.

Post-traumatic Stress Disorder is now treated like a new disorder when, actually, it was first named that in the Vietnam War. It was called "gassed" in the First World War to explain unusual behavior of the veterans of that conflict. Using a different word, my cousin had a "nervous breakdown" when his unit was assigned to bury the Japanese dead on some Pacific Island during WWII. The father of one of my good friends, a disabled veteran of WWI, killed himself and his son when he found out his son had enlisted to go to Korea.

My brother served in the U.S. Navy during WWII, but lucked out and was stationed in Australia. I had several cousins who also served in the Pacific, and none were killed. I had an uncle in Iowa whose two brothers had been killed and I remember his parents showing me their purple hearts when I visited. I had a cousin my own age who came home from Korea and killed himself with his brothers War souvenir pistol.

None of these stories are that dramatic, and I mention them only to recognize that all people who live during non-peaceful times are adversely affected by the incidents of that time, even a little girl like I was.

Tom was assigned to the 2nd Battalion 5th Marines who were fighting about 25 miles SW of Da Nang. His company was Golf Company. He arrived in Vietnam as a Private in 1968, was there for more than three years--three years!-- and discharged with the rank of Sergeant.

Tom is a gentle bear of a man, bearded now who likes the neighborhood children to think he's "crazy."

He is a computer whiz and keeps up with all his VVA duties including many of their websites. He does a lot of household chores and loves my daughter very much. Unfortunately, he suffers from PTSD which interferes with the quality of his life and gets some limited treatment at the VA medical center.

I am very proud to have him as my son-in-law and I pray that the rest of his life remains calm, peaceful, and honorable.

R.I.P. Grousy

This is one of the last pictures taken of Rocky's pet grouse, named variously Bird, Grousy, Gomer, and Lover Boy. I may have written about him before. To summarize, in March 2008, this grouse, untrue to its nature, showed no fear of Rocky's truck, then generalized it to other trucks. Rocky started feeding him right away and for almost 2 years now has taken millet, one of the bird's preferences to scatter under a tree near the creek. Another of our friends, Jay, has been feeding him corn. Rocky was able to cluck for him and he would come out of the woods. He would make little clucking sounds when he ate and Rocky felt like they were having a conversation, in grouse language since Rocky couldn't understand it. Rocky could even take a twig and scratch Grousy's chest with it, but the grouse wouldn't tolerate anyone touching him with their hands. He didn't tolerate the chipmunks who came to eat the bird seed either, and would take aim and peck them on their heads.

Unfortunately, this past Monday Rocky was driving down our lane to feed Grousy and saw him running down an embankment and before Rocky could stop the truck, the grouse had run right under its wheels. I wondered why Rocky took so long to come back home. He was grieving, I am sure, because the grief continues. Needless to say, he is devastated and "can't get over it." He salvaged 11 gorgeous tail feathers before he buried him and gave them to me for my feather bouquet--I was always asking him to get a feather for me, but I really didn't want to get one this way.  

MimiRock at Castle Yonder