Houses and Homes

It's often said that "A man's home is his castle."  But a woman's home is also her castle, no?

 Windsor Castle

 Queen Elizabeth II

It's also frequently said that "Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home."

Gardener's Cottage
Glenveagh National Park, County Donegal, Ireland

*Just a warning to those of you who might get bored:  This is a photo intensive post.  Mr. Forest Manor and I frequently refer to our house as our "humble abode," and I think that's meant in a good way.  In the course of our married life, we have lived in four different homes.  Our first home was a townhouse (couldn't find a picture) that we rented for two years before we bought our first house.

This house was actually a Sears kit home -- one of three Sears kit homes on our little block.  It was built in 1924.  The exterior front porch was eventually converted into a heated and cooled sunroom, so the house had a little less than 1,500 square feet of living space.  It looks very small in the picture, but the house extends back quite a bit.  This house had a shared driveway; ours is the house on the right.  I honestly can't imagine us sharing a driveway now -- much too inconvenient.

 We lived there for six years.

When we first moved back to this area from Greensboro, we wanted to take our time to look around before we purchased another home.  So for a year, we rented this house.

 

 It belonged to my husband's mother and her siblings.  The five of them grew up here with their parents and made lots of good family memories in this house.  When my husband's maternal grandmother died in 1980, the house was rented out for a while because all the siblings had homes of their own in different parts of the state.  The house is civil war era, circa 1860 or 1861.

Then in 1996, we purchased our current home.  We've made a few changes since this picture was taken about ten years ago.

 The one style of house I used to tell my husband I never wanted to live in is the very kind of house we wound up buying -- a brick ranch-style. :o)  I thought they were so boring.  But I've come to change my mind about that over the years.  The Sears bungalow we lived in was cute and charming, but inconvenient in many ways.  Our current home is the most convenient and comfortable house that we've owned, even though it wasn't new when we bought it.  It's home to us, and that's the important thing.

So what is it that really makes a house a home?  Well, for us, it's books,

(our family room)

music,

family photos,

(sunroom in our Sears bungalow)


and flowers...

Flowers are wonderful, but so are kindly neighbors,  :)

and a family pet.

Bonnie 1989-2000

MacDuff


 A park right down the street is always nice,

 (park near our bungalow home)


Celebrations are important, too.

(the day my husband received his MBA)


...and decorating the porch for the seasons (and holidays) of the year

But I bet we'd all agree that the memories we make in a house are what really make that house a home.

 

 

Here are more pics from our house in Greensboro.  The quality of the pictures is not the greatest.  I loved all the big windows and tall ceilings that made this house seem so light and airy.  I loved the hardwood floors throughout the house and the wide moldings around all the doors and windows.  What I didn't love about the house were the tiny (almost non-existent) closets, lack of basement, no carport or garage to park the cars in, and way too few electrical outlets.

What's your favorite house that you've ever lived in?  Besides good memories, what are some of the things that make a house a home for you?

Thanks for stopping by, and as always I really appreciate your visits and your lovely comments.  I'm sorry I haven't been visiting everyone lately, but our big house project is almost finished, and I plan to pay some catch-up visits very soon.  I hope you all have a great weekend!

Denise 

Poppies For Remembrance

In Flanders Fields

In Flanders Fields the poppies blow

Between the crosses row on row,

That mark our place; and in the sky

The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead.  Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved and were loved, and now we lie

In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

The torch; be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

In Flanders fields.

Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD  (1872-1918)

Canadian Army   

I recall memorizing this poem when, I believe, I was in Junior High school.  I know it seems a strange choice of poems for a young girl to memorize, but I just found it very moving, somehow.  As an adult, it now has even more meaning when we observe Memorial Day every year.

I found the story behind the writing of this poem very moving, as well.  John McCrae was a poet and physician from Ontario, Canada.  In 1915, he was serving as a surgeon attached to the 1st Field Artillery Brigade during the terrible battle of the Ypres.  On May 2, 1915, a young friend and former student, Alexis Helmer, of Ottawa, was killed by a shell burst.  Lt. Helmer was buried later that day in the small cemetery outside McCrae's dressing station.  In the absence of a chaplain, McCrae performed the funeral ceremony himself.

The next day, May 3, 1915, McCrae was sitting on the back of an ambulance, when he was moved to write this famous poem.  He noted how the wild poppies grew around the graves of those who had died at Ypres, and he wrote down these fifteen lines in a notebook.  He then gave the notebook to a fellow soldier, Sergent Major Cyril Allison, who later convinced McCrae to send it in for publication.  "In Flanders Fields" was first published by London-based magazine, Punch, on December 8, 1915.

The poem's references to the red poppies resulted in the remembrance poppy becoming such a recognized symbol for soldiers who have died in battle.

Flanders Field American Cemetery, containing the graves of 368 Americans, is located in Waregem, Belgium.  It is the smallest of eight permanent American cemeteries commemorating World War I in Europe.

 Source - Wikipedia

Thanks for visiting House at Forest Manor.

May God Bless Our Military Men and Women and Our Nation

Denise   

A Memorial Day Tribute Table

I'm doing a reprise of my Memorial Day post from last year.  I'll be linking this to Seasonal Sundays, hosted by the Tablescaper.

I am so very grateful to all of our military men and women serving around the world for this country and for all of us who call America home.  I also feel that I owe such a debt of gratitude to the members of our family who have served and sacrificed over the years.  Here's the post I wrote last year for Memorial Day, with the addition of one family member, Paul King.  I published this after Memorial Day last year.

Originally published June 2, 2011: 
I didn't do a Memorial Day table last week because we had a wedding anniversary, and I had already planned to do a table for that.  We did, however, recognize and celebrate Memorial Day on Sunday and Monday.  Our son was home from College on Sunday, so we grilled steaks for dinner and enjoyed his visit.  He is working on campus this summer and next school year, so he left to go back to school Sunday night.

It was so wonderful to see all the American flags displayed everywhere this past week.  With everything our nation has been through in the past ten years, seeing that flag flying proudly means more to me, personally, than it ever has.  We are truly a blessed nation.  I set a patriotic table this week because I enjoy doing tablescapes as a creative outlet for myself, and I enjoy sharing with other bloggers online who have similar interests.  But I also wanted to do a tribute to the members of our family who have served this nation in the armed forces.  This table and this post are in honor of, and in memory of, those who are still with us, and those who have passed on.

In Memory of Staff Sergeant James (Jim) Henry McGee
1919-1944

Jim was my maternal great-uncle whom I never knew, as he died 16 years before I was born.  My mother was only three years old when he was killed.  During those war years, his story was not so different from the stories of many, many other families.  But to our family, it is understandably, unique and very personal.  Jim was the oldest of three sons, all of whom signed up for military service in World War II.  My maternal grandfather was the youngest of the sons.  He stayed stateside at Fort Warren, Wyoming, and was eventually discharged due to a medical condition.  The middle brother, Richard, served in France, but of the three, Jim was the one who never made it home.  He was killed in action near Anzio, Italy.  The letter his commanding officer sent to his family stated he was killed when the vehicle in which he was riding ran over an enemy mine.  He was buried in an American military cemetery in Italy.

Jim was one of the three first Americans to enter the Kasserine Pass in North Africa, and was awarded the Silver Star and the Shoulder Cord for conspicuous bravery in action there.  But at age 25, all of his dreams and plans for the future were abruptly ended.  I often think of all the things he never got to do in life; what good experiences might he have missed out on?  I was always told growing up that he was engaged to be married to a young woman in our community, but he never got the opportunity to marry and have a family.  But because of him, and many others just like him, we have had that opportunity; and we have been able to enjoy so many of the things life offers in a country that remains free because of the sacrifice of so many.  I'm sure that having a son of my own makes me appreciate his ultimate sacrifice even more.  Jim's name is on the Roll of Honor on the Battleship North Carolina in Wilmington, and every time we visit the battleship, I make a point to pay my respects to him at this special memorial.

      In Memory of Richard Lee McGee

1923-2005

My great uncle Richard served honorably in the U.S. Army during World War II, seeing action in northern France, Belgium, and northern Luxembourg, and with the third army under General George Patton in the Rhineland.  For his services he received the combat infantryman's badge, the Purple Heart, and two Bronze Stars.  After the war was over, he was restless, and could never seem to settle back in to the community where he grew up.  He moved around, but returned home periodically for visits.  He died in a VA hospital in Florida, and was buried at Biloxi National Cemetery in Biloxi, Mississippi. 

Our Uncle Steve in Vietnam 

My husband's uncle Steve served in the U.S. Navy in the Vietnam War.  He served on a river patrol boat in South Vietnam, where he saw active combat.  After the war, he came back home to finish his college degree, then went on to teach school and get married.  He has led a very full life.  He is such a good-hearted person, with a sense of humor always at the ready.  He took a class in Switzerland learning to repair clocks and watches, which he has done for many years now.  He also hikes, cycles, is an avid reader, and is very active in his church.  He has visited places all over the world, and is always interested in learning something new.  I believe he learned in Vietnam just how precious (and uncertain) life really is.  He has an eternally youthful spirit and we really enjoy spending time with him.

Steve set up a website online dedicated to the men who served in his river division in Vietnam, and to help them contact one another and re-connect.  They all met some years ago for a re-union.  I was really touched by his words on the Home Page of this website..."I can't really say how much the Vietnam experience changed my life, but as I get older I realize how precious are the people with whom I had the privilege to serve.  God bless every individual who heard the call to duty and served in Vietnam and especially to the ones who did not return." 

Paul King

Paul is a relative of my father, and he currently lives in Arkansas in the town where my paternal grandfather was born and grew up.  Paul joined the U.S. Marine Corps. after he graduated from high school in 1944.  He first saw action in Iwo Jima in February 1945; he later fought in the battle of Okinawa.  Paul was on a ship alongside the Battleship Missouri in Tokyo Bay in September 1945 and witnessed the official Japanese surrender.    

        Our Great-Uncle James

James is my paternal great-uncle, and he served in three of our nation's wars -- WWII, Korea, and Vietnam.  He is 84 years old, and today is still physically active and works in a fishing and tackle shop in the Florida coastal town where he lives.  He, too, has seen much of the world, and he is a kind and lovable person.  He is one of our very favorites of my Dad's family members.  Above is a picture taken in 2003 of James (on the left) with my Dad some years ago.


Other members of our family who were in the military but did not serve in a major conflict or war are my Uncle Johnny and my husband's father, Bill.  To all these people, we owe a great debt of thanks for serving in our nation's armed forces.  And lest we forget, there are many thousands of unknown soldiers buried in military cemeteries around the world.  They belonged to families once too and left an empty chair at someone's table.  I believe they belong to all of us now, because they made the ultimate sacrifice for our country.

Thank you for your visit, and I hope you have a good Memorial Day weekend.

Denise