Merry Christmas, Stacy ... wherever you are

By Lynn R. Mitchell

Christmas ornament hand-painted by 10-year-old Stacy in 1975.

 

As I was growing up, a tradition in our family was for my parents to give us ornaments each year from places they had traveled. My husband and I continued the tradition with our children … so we have a number of “special” ornaments that are placed on the tree year after year.

 

This year was no different. As I carefully unwrapped the tissue paper from around one particular ornament, memories flooded back as I saw the hand-painted ceramic decoration for the tree. It was a jack-in-the-box painted in 1975 by a 10-year-old boy named Stacy. I held the ornament in my hand and remembered back to the days when I worked at Children’s Hospital in Richmond.

Stacy touched my heart more than any other child I came in contact with because of his devilish sincerity. I loved that child. He was from southwestern Virginia, one of many children from a large, down-on-their-luck Appalachian family. As best I can remember, the accident that changed his life occurred when he was playing with his siblings and they tied him to a tree, piled leaves at the base of the tree, and set the leaves on fire. Stacy was horribly burned, so much so that much of both legs and part of one arm had to be amputated. He came to Children’s Hospital for rehabilitation.

The patients at the hospital lived in dorms and received daily treatment as well as schooling. Far.... (continue reading here)

We are a board game family and today was no exception

Whenever we get together, board games are a part of our entertainment. Quirkle was on deck when I took this photo. SWAC Son has a stock of games that could entertain for weeks and always comes up with some new and interesting varieties for our gaming pleasure. And the tradition continues....

Photos by Lynn R. Mitchell
Easter 2014
April 20, 2014

Frigid weather woes ... broken outdoor water pipe -- UPDATED

Sunday. Mid-day. SWAC Husband headed into the basement to retrieve something he needed and found himself walking in water. Half the floor was flooded.

Yikes.

A frantic search began for the leak, first checking the usual suspect -- the washing machine. Nope. That wasn't it.

Next suspect would be the hot water heater. Nope. It was dry.

The next check was the area where the outside water pipe entered the house. Bingo. Water was trickling down the inside of the exterior wall, filling an ever-expanding pool in the part of the house where we store stuff. SWAC Husband turned off the water to the house but the trickle continued so then he turned off the pump to the well.

It slowed ... and slowed ... and eventually it stopped.

With that taken care of, attention was turned to the boxes of toys, books, memorabilia, Christmas decorations, wrapping paper, old stuff, and who-knows-what-else that sat on the floor. Our slow transition to all plastic not yet complete, the remaining cardboard boxes were soaking up water like a straw. Not good.

And so we began the transfer of boxes to the family room, stacking plastic bins while unpacking the contents from wet cardboard containers. Wow, we both noted, aren't we glad this didn't happen while we were out of town. Then the mopping began. The bucket was filled, dumped, and refilled. Push mop on floor, sop it with water, pick up, hold over bucket, wring it out, and repeat. Over and over and over.

Never before have I ever wished for a shop vac but today it would have been my best friend. SWAC Husband found an old towel and began swabbing the concrete floor to speed up the mopping process.

Meanwhile, a plumber needed to be called. I texted a few friends who had lots of local contacts or were in real estate and asked for names of someone who would make an emergency call. And then I posted on Facebook. What better way to get the word out fast to as many people as possible?

It worked. Zing! Homeschool moms came through first, then other friends. Text messages were returned with names and phone numbers. What would we do without friends?

On a winter Sunday afternoon with snow on the ground, we wondered if plumbers were up to their ears in calls from others who had experienced broken pipes and other weather-related issues. After all, it's been below freezing or right at for a couple of weeks. Last night's overnight low was 10.

We found a gentleman recommended by a friend who lived about 10 minutes away in Staunton. He came out after lunch and pinpointed it to an outdoor issue. Somewhere in the pipe between the well and the house there was a break, crack, or some other issue causing the water leak.

Next step: dig. He suggested checking at the house and at the well, the two most likely places for a leak. If all else failed, we would have to dig up the front yard using a backhoe to unearth the water line while searching for the leak. With more sub-zero temps headed our way this week, that's not a happy proposition at this time.

Meanwhile, after the plumber left, SWAC Husband called on long-time friends who live nearby. He's a builder and offered good advice and will be over to help. That takes place tomorrow.

Meanwhile, we're without water. That's not a tragedy ... at least we have heat as temperatures plummet again tonight, and electricity. SWAC Son lives nearby and offered his house for showers, refilling water jugs, and whatever we need so we'll survive with a bit of an inconvenience. Hopefully, we'll have water before too long.

The silver lining of all this? We wanted to clean out the basement anyway so we've already gotten off to a good start. Ready or not, that project is under way.

Meanwhile, the winter of 2013-14 continues. Cold temps, snow, frigid winds ... it's definitely been one for the books so stay warm out there. And keep an eye on those water pipes....

UPDATED 1:00 pm Monday: Our friend showed up at 9:00 this morning to help SWAC Husband look for the water leak. It didn't take long ... it was the first place they looked which was where the outside pipe entered the house. A joint had pulled apart in the freezing ground. A quick run to Lowe's for parts resulted in repairs that had the water back on by noon.  We are very grateful to a long-time friend who came to our rescue.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, Stacy ... wherever you are

Christmas ornament hand-painted by 10-year-old Stacy in 1975.

As I was growing up, a tradition in our family was for my parents to give us ornaments each year from places they had traveled. My husband and I continued the tradition with our children ... so we have a number of "special" ornaments that are placed on the tree year after year.

This year was no different. As I carefully unwrapped the tissue paper from around one particular ornament, memories flooded back as I saw the hand-painted ceramic decoration for the tree.

It was a jack-in-the-box painted in 1975 by a 10-year-old boy named Stacy. I held the ornament in my hand and remembered back to the days when, as a young 20-year-old, I worked at Children's Hospital in Richmond.

Stacy touched my heart more than any other child I came in contact with because of his devilish sincerity. I loved that child. He was from southwest Virginia, one of many children from a large, poor Appalachian family. As best I can remember, the accident that changed his life occurred when he was playing cowboys-and-Indians with his siblings and they tied him to a tree, piled leaves at the base of the tree, and set the leaves on fire.

Stacy was horribly burned, so much so that much of both legs and part of one arm had to be amputated. He came to Children's Hospital for months of rehabilitation.

The patients at the hospital lived in dorms and received daily treatment as well as schooling. Far away from home, Stacy was with us for a long time as therapists, doctors, and nurses worked with him to heal his stumps so he could receive prosthetic devices to help him lead a normal life.

For someone who had been through such a horrible experience, he had a devilish sense of humor. He was funny, playful, and almost always in a good mood. Perhaps it was the love he received from all of us as he went through physical therapy, recreational therapy (which was where he painted the Christmas ornament), and the one-on-one education he received from the in-house teachers.

I still remember the day he presented the painted ceramic decoration to me. I kneeled beside his wheelchair so to be at eye level with him as he flamboyantly presented it to me ... then I took it home to my Christmas tree and, after the holidays, packed it away. Every year since that time it has been placed on my tree.

Stacy would now be in his 40s. I don't know what happened to him ... I lost track after leaving Children's Hospital. I have often wondered where he was, how his life turned out, and if he was able to handle the emotional scar of such a life-changing incident so young in his life.

I once again placed his ornament on the tree this year and again wished Stacy a Merry Christmas, wherever he is....

I run this column annually, originally published in 2006, as a tribute to a special little boy and our friendship from many years ago....

Photo by Lynn R. Mitchell

Politics, photos, and postings

Our first Christmas card arrived in the mail yesterday from friends that we know through politics but the friendship lasted even after we all gave up our leadership positions and walked away from the local dysfunctional GOP committee five years ago.

A note inside the card brought a smile to my face. It's something I've heard throughout the years: people like to read something besides politics all the time.

Yeah, I'm a political junkie. But sometimes you need a break.

The note inside the Christmas card read: "Lynn -- Thanks for all the traffic updates and beautiful pics of Augusta County. It's a reminder of what a beautiful place we live in -- and how God is so good!"

In the back-stabbing world of politics, it's a nice respite to get away not only during the holidays but all year. And it's a nice reminder of who your friends are....

Photo by Lynn R. Mitchell
November 30, 2013

Dana Perino reveals lesson in forgiveness learned from President George W. Bush

Politics is full of betrayers. There's always those who will turn but, until it happens, we never know which ones it will be. Dana Perino shares in this video clip a long-held secret about how President George W. Bush urged her to forgive a colleague who had betrayed the president.

She also reveals that President Bush said to her he knew she would not do the same. Those who are loyal are a rare few.  A lesson learned early on was that if you have one friend in politics, you're rich.

Dana's revelation about GWB is yet another example of why I admire the Bush family and their leadership style....

Family

Birthday celebration on the deck.

He brought flowers for his grandmother.

Mom with the beautiful flowers from cousins Lynn and John Osborne in Chesterfield.

Dinner was marinated pork chops and corn on the cob from the grill, boiled Yukon Gold potatoes and sliced tomatoes and cucumbers from the garden, strawberries, blueberries, peaches, and grilled flat bread. Summer eating is some kind of good with all the fresh produce.

Gourmet birthday cupcakes for the birthday folks ... both my parents and SWAC Husband.

SWAC Son brought flowers for me, too, even though he and I are February babies.

My bookworm parents rocking and reading on the front porch.

Stepping out in the back yard.

They like to roam the yard and woods when visiting, checking out the plants, trees, and flowers they have passed along to us over the years. They like to check out the garden, too, and both love tomatoes so we sent them home with a load of freshly-picked produce.

I have a Country Mouse and a City Mouse for parents ... both grew up with different background experiences ... but both love the outdoors.

My parents were in town this week for a visit. We were celebrating birthdays and family. They are in their 80s and still perking right along and, while visiting, they didn't really want to go anywhere but, rather, just talk, read, and enjoy the peace and quiet of the Shenandoah Valley.

So that's exactly what we did. SWAC Son joined us as we celebrated the birthdays on Monday with dinner on the deck ... grilled pork chops and corn with goodies from the garden -- boiled Yukon Gold potatoes as well as freshly picked tomatoes and cucumbers, along with strawberries, blueberries, and peaches. Oh -- and gourmet cupcakes for the birthday kids -- strawberry-topped cupcakes for my folks and key lime-flavored for SWAC Husband.  And gorgeous flowers for Mom from SWAC Son and cousins in Richmond. It was a feast on the deck overlooking the back yard, woods, and mountain ridge, and so we lingered until dark, talking and enjoying the cool evening breeze.

It was a good week and we were thankful that the weather cooperated with low humidity, low temps, and a breeze, and even the rain showers were gentle enough to sit on the porch and read. I set up the video camera and recorded Mom talking about family history, something we need to continue next time we're together, and took notes that will be added to our genealogy books.

They are part of the World War II generation, a sad, fascinating time in American and world history, and each personal perspective of that time as teenagers is unique ... one graduating high school and going straight to work ... the other graduating high school and attending Virginia Tech before the Navy pulled him into the war. Victory gardens, ration coupons, gas shortages, loss of a sibling during the war ... they know it up close and personal.

Family and the Shenandoah Valley. It doesn't get much better....

Photos by Lynn R. Mitchell
August 2013

George H.W. Bush ... class, loyalty, love

 President George H.W. Bush, 89, and his entire security detail shaved their heads in solidarity with the two-year-old son of one of his security guys. That's loyalty, class, and love all rolled into one....

KENNEBUNKPORT, MAINE -- President George H. W. Bush this week joined members of his Secret Service detail in shaving his head to show his support for the two year-old son of a detail member who is being treated for leukemia and started losing his hair.

The 89 year-old commander-in-chief took the unusual step earlier this week after learning, and seeing, that many members of his security detail had already gone under the razor to show their support for young Patrick, whose father Jon is a member of the Bush Protective Division (BPD). (Surname being withheld per family's request.)

BPD members have also launched a website at www.patrickspals.org to assist with Patrick's medical bills, and organized the Inaugural Patrick's Pals Motorcycle Benefit Run on August 10th in Kennebunkport -- a 50-mile motorcycle ride through the Maine countryside followed by a lunch and silent auction to raise funds for Patrick's treatments.

Once President and Mrs. Bush learned of this "Patrick's Pals" effort, they made a donation and President Bush volunteered to shave his head as well. The Bushes lost their second child, Robin, to leukemia 60 years ago this October at the age of four.

Photos from George Bush Presidential Library

Jenna Bush Hager reveals 5 life lessons learned from her grandparents

Jenna Bush Hager, one of the twin daughters of former President George W. and Laura Bush who is married to Henry Hager, son of Virginia's former Lieutenant Governor John Hager, recently shared five life lessons that were passed along from her grandparents. Those grandparents are former President George H.W.  and Barbara Bush.

Be sure to read Jenna's article for her expanded explanations of the five life lessons passed along from George and Barbara:

1. Don't talk too much about yourself.
2. Have lots of loyal friends -- and be one.
3. Laugh.
4. Love.
5. Write handwritten notes.

Especially true in the shark tank known as politics

"Making a hundred friends is not a miracle. The miracle is to make a single friend who will stand by your side even when the hundreds are against you."

--Unknown

Father's Day 2013: 'One More Day' ... with Dad

Shenandoah National Park as the mountain laurel blooms. My dad had two places on earth he loved more than anywhere else: the Outer Banks of North Carolina, and the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia.

[My annual Father's Day remembrance of my dad....]

It's Father's Day and, once again, my dad is not here to be with us. He passed away in 1975 at the age of 51.

There's a country song by Diamond Rio called "One More Day" ... and every time I hear that song I think of my dad. It has been years since cancer took him from us and, yet, a word or song or thought can bring me to my knees as I continue to feel the loss of a man I admired and respected and miss to this day.

He was a simple man, the oldest of five children growing up in Amelia County, Virginia ... a child of the Depression who quit school after eighth grade to help support his financially-strapped family.

According to many pundits today, he should have felt sorry for himself and given up on life or blamed society. But he didn't. He served in the U.S. Navy during World War II, traveling to exotic places in the South Pacific as a gunner on the USS Wisconsin. He came home to Chesterfield County, Virginia, after the war, settled down, married, and raised three daughters. He wasn't the CEO of some company ... but to us he was more.

He was funny, easy-going, and hard to anger ... but when he angered, look out. He was a stern disciplinarian who had a thundering velvet hand when we had misbehaved. He was a deacon in our church and a Sunday school teacher for most of his adult life. He played baseball on his company's team, and he taught us the game.

My dad loved to camp in the Shenandoah National Park along the Skyline Drive. Because my parents couldn't afford pricey vacations, they took us to the mountains from the time we were young. Dad was a naturalist before it became fashionable. He was mindful of nature, teaching his girls to leave the flowers for others to enjoy. He taught us to pack out our trash, be respectful of the animals that lived there, and enjoy that beautiful part of Virginia.

We still enjoy that beautiful part of Virginia. At the age of one, my parents took me for my first camping trip to Big Meadows Campground ... and we've been at it ever since ... and living in the shadow of the Blue Ridge Mountains is a dream come true.

Though not physically with me, I carry Dad's memory and honor him by remembering and practicing what he taught all those years ago.

And that's why the Diamond Rio song can bring me to tears in a heartbeat ... if I could have just one more day with him it would be sitting around a campfire in Shenandoah National Park ... one more time.

"One More Day"
By Diamond Rio

Last night I had a crazy dream
A wish was granted just for me, it could be for anything.
I didn't ask for money or a mansion in Malibu,
I simply wished for one more day with you.

One more day, one more time...
One more sunset, maybe I'd be satisfied.
But then again, I know what it would do
Leave me wishin' still for one more day with you.

First thing I'd do is pray for time to crawl,
I'd unplug the telephone, keep the TV off,
I'd hold you every second and say a million "I love you's"...
That's what I'd do with one more day with you.

One more day, one more time...
One more sunset, maybe I'd be satisfied.
But then again, I know what it would do
Leave me wishin' still for one more day with you.

Originally posted on Father's Day 2007.

'Those who don't know the value of loyalty ...'

"Those who don't know the value of loyalty can never appreciate the cost of betrayal." --Anonymous

Happy Birthday, Jason Bibeau!

Today was SWAC area blogger and friend Jason Bibeau's birthday. This thirty-something and I got an early start on the celebration when we met two days ago for lunch in Staunton. Afterward, we drove to Wright's Dairy Rite and ordered birthday ice cream treats curbside, enjoying the yummy treats while we talked talked talked. One thing's for sure: when you're with friends, you never run out of conversation! Happy Birthday, Jason ... and wishing you many more!

Photo by Lynn R. Mitchell
19 April 2012

Be happy

Fortunately, I have friends, some I've known all or most of my life, who qualify for this #1 rule to happiness ... good, kind, principled, honest, loyal people who make the world a better place. One of the 10 rules to finding happiness:

1. Choose to be around the right people. – Spend time with nice people who are smart, driven and like-minded.  Relationships should help you, not hurt you.  Surround yourself with people who reflect the person you want to be.  Choose friends who you are proud to know, people you admire, who love and respect you – people who make your day a little brighter simply by being in it.  Life is too short to spend time with people who suck the happiness out of you.  When you free yourself from negative people, you free yourself to be YOU – and being YOU is the only way to truly live.  Read Stumbling on Happiness.

It's not difficult to find these people ... they're all around us ... making us grateful for what they have added to our lives and making the world a better place.

Rainy chilly spring day in the Shenandoah Valley

Saturday was rainy in the Shenandoah Valley and, with the second day of the weekend offering up more rain, mist, and cool temperatures in the mid-50s, it seemed a good day to make up something warm and yummy for the family. What better day to cook up a big pot of Catherine's Spicy Chicken Soup?

Punctuated with such tastebud-satisfying spices as chili, onion, and garlic powder along with black beans (extras that I add), chili beans, corn, tomatoes, and salsa, this easy-to-make tummy pleaser tastes better the longer the flavors meld. The pot, with enough for lunch and supper, sits on the stove and everyone helps themselves throughout the day. Add some tortilla chips and garden salad to be sure and fill the hungriest diner.

It's spring in the Shenandoah Valley....

Prayer requests across the miles

As I perused Facebook this morning, I came across a prayer request from a young man in North Carolina, one of the home school students who had been part of the home education organization during our years in that part of the world. I sent him my thoughts and prayers that I hope he finds peace and is able to work through this rough patch he finds himself going through.

I feel a special attachment to this young man because he's the same age as my son. In fact, he's the exact same age as my son because his mother and I were in the labor room in the hospital at the same time. We were the only two in delivery in that small rural town in western North Carolina that day and, at the time, we didn't know each other.

Seven or eight years later, we were involved in the local home school group and one day, as she and I stood in the park talking with other home school moms about various things, the subject of the boys' ages came up followed by birth dates ... and we made the connection. A special bond was there and lasts to this day even though we are miles apart.

So this morning my heart reaches out to that young man that I knew so well as a boy growing up with my son as I say a quiet prayer on his behalf. Here's hoping he finds answers and peace in his journey....

Happy Hanukkah 2011

"It's not the size of our Army ... it's the strength of our faith."
--Judah Maccabee

Today is the beginning of Hanukkah ... a time of miracles, courage, and faith. Love and joy to all my Jewish friends on this holiday of lights with a thank you for your friendship and a wish for a wonderful New Year.

Two thousand years ago, one family led by one man stood between the mighty Greek army and the conquest of the Jewish people. The family was the Hasmoneans, and the man was Judah Maccabee.

The Greeks were different from other empires. They didn't just want your land, your resources and your riches -- they wanted your national essence, your culture. They wanted you to think like them, live like them and even be entertained like them. The problem was most Jews weren't buying, and the Greeks didn't appreciate that. So the Greeks brought pressure to bear on the Jews.

Women who insisted that their sons be circumcised were killed along with their babies. Brides were forced to sleep with Greek officers before they could be with their husbands. Jews were required to eat pork and sacrifice pigs to the Greek gods. The teaching of Torah became a capital crime.

The sages and their students went into hiding in order to study and preserve the Torah. Secret weddings were held. Most Jews did anything and everything to remain Jewish. Many were tortured and murdered for their defiance. A period of darkness and suffering descended upon the Jews of Israel.

And then came the Hasmoneans.

The Hasmonean family was led by Mattisyahu and his five sons: Shimon, Yochanan, Yehudah (Judah), Elazar and Yonasan. Mattisyahu was a devout man who could not bear to see Judaism and the Jewish spirit crushed. It was his family that led the revolt against the vastly superior Greek forces. Mattisyahu understood that the battle was far less for national liberation than it was for spiritual and religious liberation. ...

Judah Maccabee was a fearless leader, a brilliant battlefield tactician and a man capable of inspiring thousands to take up arms in the battle for the preservation of Judaism. It was Judah Maccabee who conceived of ways for the Jewish forces to out-maneuver the larger, better equipped and seasoned Greek army.

When at last the Jews captured Jerusalem, rededicated the Temple and witnessed the miracle of the oil, it was with Judah Maccabee as the leader of the Hasmonean family and at the head of the Jewish army of liberation.

In many ways the story of Chanukah is the story of how one man and one family can make all the difference in the world for an entire people. It was the inspiration of Mattisyahu, the leadership of Judah Maccabee and the stubborn tenacity of the dedicated Jews that literally saved the Jewish people and the Jewish way of life.

--From "Who Was Judah Maccabee" by Rabbi Shimon Apisdorf

Christmas ... Snoopy versus the Red Baron

Thanks to fellow bloggers Fishersville Mike and Yankee Phil for this always-good look at our hero Snoopy's Christmas day encounter with his nemesis, the Red Baron.

Merry Christmas, Stacy ... wherever you are

Christmas ornament hand-painted by 10-year-old Stacy in 1975.

As I was growing up, a tradition in our family was for my parents to give us ornaments from places they had traveled each year. My husband and I continued the tradition with our children ... so we have a number of "special" ornaments that are placed on the tree year after year.

This year was no different. As I carefully unwrapped the tissue paper from around one particular ornament, memories flooded back as I saw the hand-painted ceramic decoration for the tree.

It was a jack-in-the-box painted in 1975 by a 10-year-old boy named Stacy. I held the ornament in my hand and remembered back to the days when, as a young 20-year-old, I worked at Children's Hospital in Richmond (called Crippled Children's Hospital in those days).

Stacy touched my heart more than any other child I came in contact with because of his devilish sincerity. I loved that child. He was from southwest Virginia, one of many children from a large, poor Appalachian family. As best I can remember, the accident that changed his life occurred when he was playing with his siblings and they tied him to a tree, piled leaves at the base of the tree, and set the leaves on fire.

Stacy was horribly burned, so much so that much of both legs and part of one arm had to be amputated. He came to Children's Hospital for rehabilitation.

The patients at the hospital lived in dorms and received daily treatment as well as schooling. Far away from home, Stacy was with us for a long time as therapists, doctors, and nurses worked with him to heal his stumps so he could receive prosthetic devices to help him lead a normal life.

For someone who had been through such a horrible experience, he had a devilish sense of humor. He was funny, playful, and almost always in a good mood. Perhaps it was the love he received from all of us as he went through physical therapy, recreational therapy (which was where he painted the Christmas ornament), and the one-on-one education he received from the in-house teachers.

I still remember the day he presented the painted ceramic decoration to me. I kneeled beside his wheelchair so to be at eye level with him as he flamboyantly presented it to me ... then I took it home to my Christmas tree and, after the holidays, packed it away. Every year since that time it has been placed on my tree.

Stacy would now be a young man in his 40s. I don't know what happened to him ... I lost track after leaving Children's Hospital. I have often wondered where he was, how his life turned out, and if he was able to handle the emotional scar of such a life-changing incident so young in his life.

I once again placed his ornament on the tree and again wished Stacy a Merry Christmas, wherever he is....

I run this column annually, originally published in 2006, as a tribute to a special little boy and our friendship from many years ago....

Photo by Lynn R. Mitchell

'White Christmas' ... the movie

One of my all-time favorite Christmas movies would have to be "White Christmas," the 1954 musical featuring four of the biggest talents in Hollywood. The movie opens with a scene in December 1944 during World War II, and continues the story line with two of two Army buddies after the war, now in the entertainment business, who meet sisters and become romantically involved with them.

I love this movie ... and Christmas is not complete until I have seen it each year, usually while wrapping gifts in front of the TV. Bing Crosby and Danny Kaye absolutely made it work along with Rosemary Clooney and Vera Ellen. It is a light-hearted romance comedy that weaves a Christmas/winter theme into it and is set mostly at the fictional Columbia Inn Ski Lodge in Pine Tree, Vermont, during the holidays.

For this snow/Christmas/winter lover, it does not get much better!

Many songs are unforgettable ... "White Christmas," of course ... but also the "Sisters" tune sung by Clooney and Ellen is something my sisters and I have jokingly done for years ... not to mention the spoof of that number by Crosby and Kaye.

"Snow" is the tune sung in four-part harmony on the train as the four travel from Florida to Vermont.

And there is "Count Your Blessings Instead of Sheep," a simple little Irving Berlin song that hits reality right between the eyes...

When I'm worried and I can't sleep
I count my blessings instead of sheep
And I fall asleep counting my blessings

When my bankroll is getting small
I think of when I had none at all
And I fall asleep counting my blessings

I think about a nursery and I picture curly heads
And one by one I count them as they slumber in their beds

If you're worried and you can't sleep
Just count your blessings instead of sheep
And you'll fall asleep counting your blessings

The basis of the whole story is the two Army buddies (Crosby and Kaye), successful in the music industry, who take their stage show to their WW II General's failing Vermont inn as gratitude to the "old" man.

Crosby's character, looking at the General across the room, observed, "We ate ... and then he ate. We slept ... and then he slept."

To which Kaye's character quipped, "And then he woke up and no one slept for 48 hours!"

The movie is about friendship, gratitude, and love. It is one of my "must sees" every year ... a classic to be seen over and over.