danajohnhill.org | Hard Times Come Again No More

ORLANDO – I am extraordinarily grateful for my heath, and the good health and company of family and friends. As was said long ago, God bless Us, every One.

Filed under: Special Occasions on December 25th, 2011 | No Comments »

Today is Veteran’s Day, and I am pleased to see it so widely observed. My grandfather was a veteran, my father-in-law is a veteran, my brother-in-law is a veteran, and a couple close friends are veterans, too. Happy Veteran’s Day to them.

Filed under: Special Occasions on November 11th, 2011 | No Comments »

Thirty-five years is not old. But it isn’t young, either. Somehow, I don’t really feel any different than I did when I was half my present age.

On this birthday I will make my usual wish: hard times come again no more.

UPDATE: A pretty good birthday. When it began, at midnight Wednesday morning, I was still awake writing a paper. In the morning I had to give a presentation on said paper. In the afternoon I had to give another brief presentation for a different class. But while the morning began with high winds and dark, cloudy skies, by five o’clock in the afternoon it was beautiful outside, and had gotten much cooler. I enjoyed lunch at Leo’s with my friends Anthony and Jessica, then dinner with Miriam, plus the Martinos, the Fagans, Kat and Harris, Leslie and Andy, and other GRRs. Everyone I saw was exceedingly kind, and the well-wishes on Facebook were touching. Then, when we got home, Miriam made me a big chocolate chip cookie shaped like a heart. And tomorrow we are going to Disney World. All is well.

Filed under: Special Occasions on October 19th, 2011 | No Comments »

The Union and the Constitution forever!

Filed under: Special Occasions on July 4th, 2011 | No Comments »

When I was a small boy I had a collection of books called the Childcraft Library. Among the assorted volumes was one called Places to Know. It was my favorite. Page after page depicted amazing monuments and natural wonders around the world. I looked at the book often, and I imagined visiting those places.

Something had happened by the time I was a teenager, however. I had lost faith that I would ever travel. I remained fascinated by the world’s monuments and natural  wonders, but I doubted I would ever see them in person. I simply couldn’t imagine a scenario in which I would behold the Eiffel Tower, the Vatican, or the Alps. My doubts may have stemmed from my limited experience. While I had, as a boy, been to Atlanta, Chicago, Miami, and even New York City, I spent most of my time very near home. Indeed, years would pass in which I would not travel more than fifty miles from my home. Between 1986 and 1998 I left Florida one time.  So, I was, perhaps, understandably skeptical about my potential for future travel, particularly travel to exotic destinations. I simply couldn’t imagine having the opportunity.

Ten years ago today I stood in the middle of Piazza San Marco in Venice, “the drawing room of Europe”. Before me was St. Mark’s, consecrated in 1071. Nearby were the ancient Doge’s Palace, and the Campanile. Standing beside me was a beautiful girl who, I’ll confess, interested me more than whatever magnificent landmarks surrounded us. I had known her for barely six months that day, and had known her for as few as three months at the time she invited me on the voyage of a lifetime. Together, between May and June 2001, we visited a dozen cities and towns in five countries. Places I had only read about in the my Childcraft Library stretched out before me like a vision.

In Paris we stood atop the Eiffel Tower, and strolled the broad avenues designed by Baron Haussmann in the mid-nineteenth century. We crossed the Rhine and admired vast sunflower fields of central Germany, interrupted only by the occasional castle or village. In Leipzig we listened to the music of Johann Sebastian Bach in the church where he worked for the last decades of his life, and where he is buried in honor. In Munich we gazed with wonder at priceless art, including Van Gogh’s Sunflowers. In Salzburg we saw Mozart’s own piano, stood on the stage at the Großes Festspielhaus, and strolled the indescribably charming baroque streets. In Vienna we toured the gardens of Schönbrunn and watched Tosca at the Staatsoper, which remains among the most perfect musical experiences of my life. We paid our respects at the graves of Brahms, Beethoven, Schubert, Schoenberg, and Wolf. In Rome we wandered about the ancient ruins. In Florence we ate the best ice cream we’d ever tasted. In Milan we dined in the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele. In spotlessly clean Switzerland we watched in amazement as a railroad worker scrubbed the track with a toothbrush. We stood atop a high mountain gazing down upon the unbearably lovely town of Chamonix, where one of us saw snow for the first time. In Normandy we walked across Omaha Beach, and saw the evidence of the enormous sacrifices made there, in the form of thousands of white marble crosses. We slogged through the mud around Mt. Saint-Michel. We were constantly in motion. And when we weren’t, we slept in fancy hotels with magnificent views of glaciers, and in run-down dumps with views of other run-down dumps.

The beautiful girl who stood beside me ten years ago today in Venice, and who slept beside me in luxurious hotel rooms and miserably uncomfortable train cabins, is asleep next to me right now. For over ten years she has shared with me nearly every experience in my life, both good and bad, and for the past six years she has shared my name. Today is her birthday.

Happy birthday, Angel. You are my rose, and lily, and dove, and sun.

Filed under: Family, Special Occasions, Travel on June 2nd, 2011 | 1 Comment »