Enough, August!

While January is cold, dark, and bleak, I would take it any day over August. To say that August sucks is an understatement.

Growing up, I started school in August. And while I liked going to school, I did not enjoy the heat of the first few weeks. You see, I am old enough to have attended schools that were not air conditioned. We had windows wide open and big box fans shooting hot air around the room. The heat made the adults even more grumpy.

We probably were able to deal better with the heat back then because many of us did not have air conditioners at home and were, perhaps, more conditioned to the heat. Regardless, some days, the heat of August was bad.

So you're saying to yourself, "Come on, Leslie! You're whining about heat of August in Kansas?" No, I am grousing about the heat of August in Kansas, but there also are multiple other reasons to dislike August.

For instance, I found out today that someone I know has been diagnosed with cancer in multiple places. The diagnosis came while he was traveling. He has not yet been able to return to his home and is being treated, for the moment, far away. That whole situation sucks, August! 

Nonetheless, I will try to send positive vibes his way and pray that he recovers fully.

For me, August has been a time of personal loss as well. The two-year anniversary of my Mom passing is coming up next week. She had a brain bleed and was in a coma for about six days before she passed. (You can read about Mom here) I sat with her each day and talked to her, though she could not respond. The doctor said she couldn't hear me, but the nurses assured me she could. I told her about what was happening in the neighborhood and tried to keep my comments upbeat and positive. When one of the doctors told me she didn't have much longer, I made arrangements with the hospital staff to stay in her room with her. She passed peacefully and I went home to a house devoid of voices, but full of memories. Miss you, Mom.

Earlier this month, a good friend from college died. We had kept in touch over the years and up until a few weeks before she died, we had either chatted or shared memes in Facebook Messenger nearly every day. My friend was smart and well-educated. She had a caring heart and a delightful sense of humor. She was a great human being and I miss her terribly.

After my own health scares a couple of months after Mom passed, I made the decision to not get another dog. My little Jorgie had passed the year before Mom, the same year as Dad. I had toyed with the idea of getting another dog, but I didn't want to suddenly die of some dreaded disease and have the poor little dog think I had abandoned him. So I decided I would be happy with loving on other people's dogs.

I also started following a number of animals on Facebook, including Timothy the hippo from the San Antonio Zoo, his crush, Fiona, and the rest of the hippo bloat at the Cincinnati Zoo, Teddy the ornery golden retriever from South Carolina, Chuck the bearded dragon, and Charlie the golden retriever from Ohio. Their antics made me smile and prevented my Facebook news feed from becoming a suckhole of negativity. Sadly, since spring, several of the animals I looked forward to seeing have died, including Larry the Great Dane, Charlie the Golden's older housemate, Buddy, and Spike the head-bobbing bearded dragon friend of Mr. Crabs. 

This week, Jackie, the female bald eagle of Big Bear Eagle Nest Cam fame, died after several weeks of intensive care at the Ojai Raptor Center after she was found unable to fly. Jackie was a beautiful bald eagle and was fiercely protective of the nest and eaglets she shared with her mate, Shadow. Both she and Shadow were/are advocates in their own way for wildlife initiatives and because of them and the videos in which they starred, Friends of Big Bear Valley was able to raise the millions of dollars needed to buy land around the nesting site to protect the eagles and other wildlife in the area.

Watching the nest cam videos was both educational and a nice change of pace from all the crap that is happening in our country and the world. I don't know what will happen with Shadow now that Jackie is gone. Should Shadow find another mate, as he probably will, I hope people will be kind about it. That's how nature works. I hope the nest cam videos will continue.

So August, enough is enough! Let's have some happy news and events for a change. We sure need it!

Early blooming bush sparks memories of a long-time family tradition

There will be no Mother's Day photos in front of the blooming snowball bush this year.

Despite being somewhat gutted (by me) last summer after the tree guys cut out several larger-than-I-thought trees that had grown up in the bush, my snowball bush is now blooming profusely, weeks before the U.S. celebrates Mother's Day.

Additionally, there is no one left to carry on the long-time family tradition.

I was introduced to the Mother's Day family tradition when I was just a wee child. My paternal grandmother loved to garden and was quite proud of her beautiful snowball bush. More often than not, it was blooming just in time for Mother's Day.

We, of course, were already decked out in our Sunday finest. My Sunday finest included a dress, a fancy hat, and a small purse that matched my shiny patent leather shoes. We "ladies" all wore beautiful corsages as well. 

Grandma always insisted that we pose for photos in front of the snowball bush before we went to the restaurant for a nice Mother's Day meal. My Dad's side of the family was always big on photos. I had my first camera, a Kodak Brownie Holiday camera, when I was four.

For most of us, posing in front of the snowball bush on Mother's Day was somewhat of a family joke "We'd better go get the snowball pictures done so we can go eat. I'm hungry," one of my relatives said once. 

But we never let Grandma know how we felt about the photos. I guess it was part of her Mother's Day present from us.

The years went by and Grandma passed on and for a while, there were no Mother's Day photos in front of the snowball bush.

While I was living in Emporia, my folks moved from my childhood home to the house I live in now. And guess what? There was a beautiful snowball bush on the property! 

Some of the blooms on my snowball bush this
year. Photo © Leslie Eikleberry 2026

The first Mother's Day my folks lived in the house, we drug Mom outside for a Mother's Day photo in front of the blooming snowball bush. It was all in good fun and Mom, Dad, and I had a happy moment as we continued the family tradition.

Now Mom also has passed and the snowball bush is blooming early. And while I have been a mama to several four-legged furry kids, my dogs also are gone and I have no desire to pose in front of the snowball bush by myself. 

The family tradition may have ended, but I still have the memories!

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Please know that if you leave a comment, it will not show until I OK it being published. Thanks! Les

Watching Artemis II and remembering missions of the past

Being a child of the 1960s, I watched most of the Apollo launches and, of course, the Apollo 11 moon landing, all with narrative from Walter Cronkite. It was exciting, and I was in awe that people were "flying" into space!

Fast forward 55+ years, and here I was this evening watching the Artemis II launch to send the Integrity and four astronauts -- three from the US and one from Canada -- on a mission around the moon.

NASA’s Artemis II Space Launch System (SLS) rocket and Orion
 spacecraft are seen standing atop a mobile launcher at Launch
 Complex 39B on March 31, 2026,  at NASA’s Kennedy Space Center
 in Florida. NASA’s  Artemis II flight, which launched  April 1, 2026,
 is taking Commander Reid Wiseman, Pilot Victor Glover, and Mission
Specialist Christina Koch from NASA, and Mission Specialist Jeremy
Hansen from the CSA  (Canadian Space Agency), around the Moon
and back  to Earth. Photo Credit: (NASA/John Kraus)

In some ways, I felt like that giddy grade-schooler once again. But emotion really hit hard when the countdown got to T-minus 10 seconds, and to be honest, it caught me off guard. It felt like when the US flag is raised and the Star-Spangled Banner is played for US Olympic athletes. There was a sense of awe and a sense of pride, but also a bit of anxiety. 

Anxiety? Yes. I am old enough to also remember the Apollo 1 fire in 1967, the Challenger shuttle explosion in 1986, and the Columbia shuttle disintegration in 2003. 

Being an astronaut is a dangerous career. 

Now I know that there is danger in a number of careers, but few, if any, are like that of being an astronaut and being propelled far from Earth and those who might be able to help you while riding atop a blazing rocket.

Fortunately, the Artemis II launch went well and the astronauts are on their way to an orbit around the moon and a few firsts: the first Black astronaut, the first female astronaut, and the first Canadian to orbit the moon.

I'm glad the US once again has a presence in space. While I personally do not yearn for space travel, I do believe there is much to learn in space that will benefit humankind. (And I also believe the world would be a better place if some other people were in space, but that is another blog post for another time!)

I hope that the astronauts are able to accomplish all that they set out to do on their 10-day, approximately 685,000-mile journey that is expected to take them approximately 250,000 miles from Earth.

I also pray that the Good Lord be with them and bring them home safely!

Happy Birthday, Granddad!

 

My maternal grandfather was born 119 years ago today. He's been gone more than 50 years now and I still miss him. 

Granddad was a simple Kansas farmer, but in my mind, he was larger than life.

Granddad was born on the family's ranch in north-central Kansas, the youngest of nine living children. The family raised cattle, pigs, wheat, milo, and a bit of corn. My great-grandfather also raised jacks and jennies for the US Army. Work ethic was strong in the family and it was not lost on Granddad. He helped with the family farming and ranching operation until, as a young man, he followed his heart and moved to the Pacific Northwest where the woman who would later be my grandmother and her family had moved. 

My Mom told me several times that Granddad loved that part of the country and his time there. He married Granny in Washington state and they began their life together there. While there, Granddad also apparently played semi-pro baseball and was a good pitcher, according to my Mom. (I suspect that played into Mom's love of watching the Royals!)

But the family ag operation eventually brought Granny and Granddad  back to Kansas, where they lived the rest of their lives. Soon, my Mom and her brother came along. The family first lived on a farm west of town, later moving to another farm south of town.

Granddad still played baseball on town teams as time would permit. Somewhere in there, he also opened a restaurant in his hometown, but the venture was short-lived when the restaurant burned down. Nonetheless, Granddad's effort was remembered during the town's 125th anniversary in 2010 when a sign was erected where the restaurant once stood. 

Then came World War II. Granddad joined the Army and fought in the European Theater. Granddad didn't talk about his time in the military, at least not to his children and granddaughters, which is typical of many who have seen combat. We didn't find out until after Granddad had died that he had been an Army sniper.

After the war, Granddad settled back into family life and farming/ranching.

Granddad was one of the good guys. He was always willing to help those in need, oftentimes not accepting payment, despite the fact that he was not monetarily wealthy. He was, however, wealthy in friends and those who loved him. After he died, we heard from numerous people who praised how he had helped them through a rough spot.

Though he enjoyed being around other people, Granddad was a quiet man. But when he spoke, you knew to listen.

He also had a good sense of humor and was a bit on the ornery side. (I may or may not have inherited that!) Mom used to tell that when I was a baby and still not eating much solid food, Granddad would sit me on his lap and give me a bit of his mashed potatoes and gravy. I would smack my lips together and smile, which made Granddad laugh. To this day, I still enjoy mashed potatoes and gravy!

At some point as an adult, Granddad had all of his teeth pulled and acquired a set of dentures, that, for as long as I knew him, he didn't wear. He didn't let that hinder him, however! Grandad could gum a chicken fried steak like nobody's business! 

When my cousin and I were toddlers, we got into Granddad's dresser drawer and found his dentures, much to the horror of our parents. We giggled and thought it was great fun. Instead of getting mad, Granddad laughed about it. I can still hear his laugh. I miss it!

There also were stories of some of the pranks he pulled on people, including the time he tossed a firecracker under some cussed old fella's chair at the grain elevator! Apparently that was the first time the guy had moved that fast in years!

Often during the week, Granddad would take a break from his chores and join the other fellas for a soft drink and maybe a bite to eat at the restaurant (when I was young, it was always "rest-ernt.") 

When I was young, I would spend a couple of weeks in the summer and some weekends with my grandparents. When I was there, Granddad would take me with him to the rest-ernt. In fact, he is responsible for my love of Mtn Dew. At the time, no one in Salina had distribution rights for Mtn Dew, so Granddad would buy a case of it for me to take home. Somewhere I still have a glass bottle or two of the golden elixir.

More than anything, Granddad loved his family. For many years, including his last, he made a point of putting flowers on family graves at the cemetery for Memorial weekend. Until his final few years, Granddad wouldn't let anyone help him. He would order dozens of peonies from a nearby florist. He would dig small holes at each grave, place a Mason jar in each hole and fill it with water and flowers. A week later, he would go back and collect all the jars for use the next year.

Granddad also doted on his granddaughters. When we were young, Granddad bought us a Shetland pony that we named Ringo. We were so excited to have a pony and Granddad was excited for us. Ringo, however, had other ideas. He was not a gentle pony. In fact he could be downright mean at times. After a while, Ringo "ran away" though I am fairly certain he was taken to a nearby sale barn.

Granddad with me (left), and my cousin. We
had either just "helped" feed the pigs or
Granddad was just giving us a ride in the
wheelbarrow. Photo © Leslie Eikleberry 2026

Granddad took us with him to feed the pigs and cows and when he had to run errands in nearby towns. He even took me to my first Chiefs' game in old Municipal Stadium the season after the Chiefs won their first Super Bowl. I still have the team photo he bought me.

I feel bad that my younger cousin never got to know our Granddad. She was born the year after he died. I think she would have enjoyed him and I know he would have loved her dearly.

Granddad was a good man and a wonderful grandfather. I miss him. 

Happy birthday, Granddad! I don't know whether you have learned to use a computer in Heaven, but I believe you somehow know what I have written and how much I still love you!

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Please know that if you leave a comment, it will not show until I OK it being published. Thanks! Les

A big "thank you" to the ER staff

I want to give a much deserved shoutout to the emergency room staff at Salina Regional Health Center. 

You see, I spent a good chunk of my morning there. It turned out to be nothing major and I have returned home feeling much better. 

Each and every one of the ER personnel I encountered was great! From the intake folks to the nurse to the doctor to the custodian, all were friendly and kind. They all made me feel much more comfortable sitting in an exam room with a pulse oximeter clipped to my finger and a blood pressure cuff periodically squeezing the life out of my arm. (I really dislike those cuffs!)

I had been dealing with the issue since mid-afternoon on Christmas. Despite sleeping fairly well last night, the issue continued this morning and I was concerned that something serious was happening inside my body, perhaps related to the giant blood clot that was removed last year. I had just been to my regular doctor visit the week prior and all was well, so I knew something was suddenly off. I got myself to the ER, and unlike the two times a year ago, I drove myself rather than ride in an ambulance.

I figured with it being the day after Christmas, the ER might be busy, but it wasn't, and soon after walking in, I was in an exam room answering the nurse's questions.

Why am I telling you this, you ask? Because often, hospital staff, especially those in the ER, only hear negative comments from those they have treated. 

I'm sure there are instances in which the negative comments are justified, however, not nearly as often as they are heard. 

These folks are good, hard-working people who do their best to help patients feel better. They see all sorts of things, some I would never want to see, yet they do their best to help all those who come into the ER. They need to hear some praise occasionally. 

I, for one, am grateful for their assistance, professionalism, and kindness. Thank you, Salina Regional ER staff! 

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Please know that if you leave a comment, it will not show until I OK it being published. Thanks! Les

Thankful for family

 

This holiday season, I am thankful for family.

For most of my life, I spent Thanksgiving and Christmas with my folks. Sometimes we would go spend the holiday with other relatives, but the core group of Mom, Dad, and I was a constant. Then, Dad died two years ago and Mom last year.

I have to admit I have felt a little lost since they died. It is a natural part of the grief process. But death, like life, has a funny way of changing the game, sometimes quite subtly.

A month after my Mom died, her brother died. My uncle was one of the good guys, and his death, after what I had already experienced the previous year and a half, was another gut punch.

I wanted to support my two cousins and my aunt, so I traveled to KC for my uncle's funeral. A number of my aunt's family were also there to support her and the girls. They were back again, eight months later, for my aunt's funeral.

We didn't know each other well, but we knew names and the basics about each other, enough that there were hugs all around as people left to return home.

Thanksgiving and Christmas of 2024 I spent with longtime family friends who, essentially, were chosen family. We had known each other since I was five years old. It was a good time and I did my best to not tear up while missing my folks during those two holidays.

Then, this past summer, I returned to KC, partly for my birthday celebration, but also to look through family treasures as my cousins prepared to clean out my aunt and uncle's house.

I hadn't been there long before my older cousin (she's only about four months older than me, but older is older) said she had news. Her mother's side of the family was gathering for Thanksgiving at Grand Lake of the Cherokees in Oklahoma and they were inviting me to join them. 

Now those who know me well know that I am a dyed-in-the-wool introvert and I sometimes don't do well in large, boisterous crowds. At that point, I didn't have plans and I knew it would be good for me to be around a group of good people, so I said I would be happy to join them.

A while later, I began to second guess myself. Had I made the correct decision? They all have known each other well for years. I have not.

Nonetheless I continued forward and vowed to try to fit in and at least not embarrass my cousins. 

Then, as Thanksgiving drew closer, I began to worry about traveling all that way by myself. My years as a journalist writing cops stories has colored my view of the world. I still believe there are many good people in the world, but I know there are some who are not and I was concerned about driving through an area with which I am not familiar.

As it turned out, I ended up driving to KC and traveling to the lake with my cousin and her husband. I much appreciate them letting me tag along!

There were times where I hung out on the fringes of the group and observed. Afterall, I am a retired journalist. We had four generations there. There were people from a variety of locations and careers. Everyone's story was a little different, but they all had two things in common: their family and the importance of it.

Despite my introvertedness the four days we were at the lake, the Brown family drew me out and included me. In fact, they have adopted me and I am one of the family now!

That's something for which I am greatly thankful!

A much needed family birthday celebration

My Missouri cousins are the best!

A couple of weekends ago, I went to Independence to visit and to do a bit of work. You see, my cousins find themselves in the same boat as I am. Within the past year, both of their parents died and my cousins are now tasked with sorting through all the stuff in their parents' house and making decisions of what to keep and what to get rid of. A tough task. 

As they were sorting through stuff, they came across some family items they thought I might want. I had offered to help them and since we really hadn't had a good visit since their mother died, I traveled the I-70 autobahn to get in some quality cousin time.

It did not disappoint!

The weekend also served as an early celebration of my impending trip-around-the-sun anniversary. You see, this will be my first birthday without either of my parents. As I mentioned in an earlier post (https://morewithles.blogspot.com/2025/04/dealing-with-firsts-remembering-lasts.html), dealing with firsts during the grieving process can be tough.

I had planned to get one of my favorite meals on my birthday and call it good. My cousin, Lori, who is the caretaker of the family, had other ideas. She and her sister, Jennifer, with the help of their families, put together a great weekend!

Of course, we took no pix of the weekend so here is one from
a while back. I think I was two. I am a bit taller now.
Photo © Leslie Eikleberry 2025

There was the traditional singing of "Happy Birthday to You." We also had some delicious birthday cake from a bakery. Good job selecting the cakes, Tracy! No need to tell Lori, but the piece she sent home with me didn't last very long after I got home. (In my defense, I did have to stay up a while and make sure my phone and Apple watch were charged, as I was getting low battery notifications on both by the time I got home from the weekend.)

We also had a family favorite: homemade ice cream! It had been a while since I had homemade ice cream. It was just as tasty as I remember and brought back a lot of memories of time spent with family over the years. 

And let's not forget the birthday dinner: pizza from Minsky's. When Lori told me we were having pizza for dinner "if that's OK," I was like "Sure, twist my arm!" Pizza is my favorite food and after seeing a bazillion Minsky's commercials on TV, I was excited to finally be trying it! I also was happy to discover that despite my lack of gallbladder, I can still eat pepperoni pizza! (I'm sure my doctor will not find as much joy in that discovery.)

One of my young cousins (Lori's granddaughter) who even at grade school age is an aspiring actress, recited some of her lines for me. She did a good job. 

Much of the time was spent looking through papers and photos and reminiscing. (Cue the Little River Band.)

All in all, it was a great weekend filled with love and family! Thank you, cousins, for helping me transition through another first! Love you!