A New Decade is Dawning

Another year is here – where did the time go? 2010 is gearing up to be a great year, but it is also the ending of another phase in my life.

For the past 27 years, I’ve had at least one child at home. From infant care, toddler days, preschool adventures and after school activities, Mom’s taxi service has hauled kids from one event to the next and I’ve enjoyed every minute of it. But 2010 will see my youngest child leave home to begin her college years, and I’m going to be left with an empty next. What am I supposed to do? How do you change a lifestyle you’ve had for 27 years?

The Rightmyer family circa 1999 - Marie, Christine, Amber, Bobbi and Keith

I already miss the days I used to volunteer at school. I always made time to help out several days a month when my girls were in elementary school. I’ve helped with Girl Scouts, band, choir, dance, soccer and academic practice as well as multiple church activities. When the girls got too old to want me at school, I found other ways to volunteer to show them the joy of giving your time to help others.

At least my girls have left me a little at a time – this has helped my adjustment period somewhat, but it doesn’t take the pain away entirely. Marie was the first to leave and it nearly killed me when she moved out, but I realized I was going to have to let her go eventually. Two years later, Amber was gone and the pain was just as acute, but I knew I would survive.

Christine, Marie and Amber - circa 1999

For the past 8 years, Christine has been my only child at home and we have grown very close. She sometimes complains she feels like an only child because there is such a large age difference between her and her sisters. Of all my children, Christine and I are most alike. We both enjoy reading and many times we will spend an afternoon reading, even though we are reading separate books. Or we have been known to brain storm ideas for writing projects, bouncing ideas off one another to see what we think might work for a story. We both enjoy volunteer work and Christine has been a big help to mean with many of the tasks I’ve taken on.

Of course, Christine has inherited the “worry gene” from me; she worries about everything, just like I do. She is more concerned about keeping everyone else happy than she is doing things for herself. She is a true friend and someone you can count on when the times are hard. I really wish she wouldn’t worry so much – I want her to enjoy her happy teenage years while they’re here. But just like I know I can’t stop myself from worrying, I can’t keep her from worrying either.

Looking forward into 2010, there are many things I am actually looking forward to. First and foremost is the fact that I will be a grandmother for the first time. I am so excited and I can’t wait to hold this little bundle of joy in my arms. My middle daughter, Marie, is expected in June and we are all eagerly awaiting this newest addition to the family.

My first grandchild, the Tadpole - 12 weeks gestation, due June 2010

This will also be the first year I have sent a child to college. As much as I wanted Amber and Marie to attend college, they had no interest in continuing their education. Although this saddened me at first, I realized it was their life and they should have a choice in what they wanted to do. So, instead of seeking a college education, they both entered the work force and they seem content with this decision.

Christine, on the other hand, has been looking forward to college for many years. She plans to seek a degree in Art Administration and she also wants to study abroad, hopefully in Japan. At some point after graduation, she wants to join the Peace Corps before settling down with a career. This past fall was full of applying to colleges, filling out scholarship forms and researching all grant opportunities; I know this spring will be full of last minute preparations, but it will be a fun experience.

This year is also the year I plan to have a book published. I have been working on many things, but can’t seem to narrow my focus down to one thing, so I’m not exactly sure what the book will be. I do know it will be one of the following possibilities: a collection of my Mercer’s Magazine essays, a poetry collection, a book about Harrodsburg, or a young adult book I am almost finished with. Because I’m interested in so many areas, it is hard for me to work on any one project for a long period of time, so I catch myself working on each one for a short period of time. This may not be ideal for most writers, but it is the techniques that work for me.

I guess the most special thing I’m looking forward to is celebrating my 20th wedding anniversary and being able to spend more time with my hubby. Keith and I have been together for 24 years, but we’ve only been married for 20. Since we have been together, there have always been children in the house. Even though we had a wonderful week long honeymoon, we’ve never really had any time alone with children. And as much as I miss the kids being around all the time, I’m excited about the new status in our relationship.

Where did the time go? I don’t know, but I do know that the older I get, the faster time seems to speed by. You’ve got to reach out and grab a piece of life while it’s spinning by, because if you wait for things to happen for you, it may be too late. I hope everyone has a Happy New Year and enjoys the fruits of a new decade.

Baby’s First Christmas – Again

(Desiree Carter Semones; born October 28, 2009)



The Christmas season is upon us again – where did the time go? It seems like the older I get, the faster time flies by. I no longer have any little children in the household, so our Christmas routine is somewhat different than it was years ago. I can remember the kids being so excited to get up early Christmas morning and open their presents. Christmas really is for children.

Although I can’t remember back to my first Christmas, after all I was only four months old, there is one picture of me I vividly remember from the Christmas of 1962. I am lying on my Granny Devine’s couch and there is a huge stocking next to me, the old-fashion type of man’s stocking. My Granddaddy had filled it with lots of baby food, or that’s what everyone has told me. I have no memories at all of my Granddaddy; he died when I was still a baby. What knowledge I have of him is from the stories my Mom has told me and the few precious photographs that still exist.

I can remember so many details of my first daughter’s Christmas in 1982 – Amber was only three months old. Of course, she was too young to know what was going on, but I enjoyed making memories and taking photos. She got lots of clothes and toys that have long been forgotten, but there is one precious gift that holds special memories. My parents gave her a solid white stuffed kitten – it was almost a duplicate of one I had as a child. I can remember Amber carrying this kitten when she got older, and I eventually had to store it away in a closet, least it fall apart and be gone forever. Since then, my other two girls have been given white kittens and this will be a tradition I will carry on with my grandchildren. My girl’s cats are all lovingly packed away with my own kitten and they will eventually end up in a shadow box or some type of display, but until then, I’ll keep them safe and sound.

When Marie’s first Christmas arrived in 1984, she was already walking and talking. At nine months old, she was a little pistol, trying to do everything her older sister was doing. This was an exciting Christmas for our family because Amber had just turned two and she was starting to understand what Christmas was all about.

This year, there were toys galore under the tree – rocking horses, Strawberry Shortcake, Gizmo and more. Although the He-Man castle was technically Amber’s, we had a hard time keeping Marie out of all the paraphernalia that went along with He-Man and Skeletore. This was also our first Christmas in our brand-new house – it seems like such a lifetime ago.

Christmas 1988 brought us the first Christmas of my niece, Ashley, the only child of my sister, Amy. Being a baby of three months, I’m sure Ashley doesn’t remember much, but she was the newest addition to the family and we were all happy to have another baby to love on. We’ve stored away memories and photographs, which are fun to look back on and remember.

When Christine’s first Christmas rolled around in 1992, our lives had changed so much for the better. We were a happy family blended together and the holidays were a joyous time. Christine was only three months old, but Amber and Marie were 10 and 8, so Christmas fever began before Thanksgiving was even over with. Again, Christine was too young to remember this first Christmas, but like the other girls here are tons and tons of photos, plus descriptions in her baby book.

Christmas 1993 brought us the first Christmas of a baby boy, my nephew, Ethan, son of my brother and sister-in-law, Brent and Patty. Like Marie, Ethan was nine months old, so he was almost walking and talking and enjoyed the excitement from his first Christmas. Now there were five grandchildren to fill my parents home and we all loved being together.

As the years have passed, we continue to gather at my parent’s home on Christmas Eve. A hearty meal my Mom slaves over all day gives us turkey and ham, mashed potatoes and dressing, corn and macaroni, broccoli casserole and oysters – we eat until we are so stuffed we’re miserable. When the kids were all younger, we had to rush through the meal because they were so anxious to open gifts. Now that the kids are older, the meal is more relaxed and less hurried. We have time to clear away the meal and spend time together before the rush of wrapping paper and ribbons start to litter the floor.

Although I continue to love spending the holidays with my family, it has just not been the same without little children in the house. I long for the days when my own grandchildren will gather around on Christmas Eve to celebrate the season. There is just something magical about a child at Christmas – a wonderment you can only see through their eyes.

Christmas 2009 will again have a new baby in the family, Desiree Carter, daughter of my niece Ashley. Although she is less than two months old, it is such a joy to have a baby at Christmas again. There will be lots of presents she won’t remember, lots of memories that we will remember, and plenty of photographs to show her when she’s grown. I know this is the beginning of a new phase in the life of my family, a new generation of babies to love and enjoy and I look forward to entertaining them all, not just at the holidays, but all through the year.

Giving Thanks

Although I’ve never really taken Thanksgiving for granted, I have sometimes glossed over the true meaning of the holiday in favor of yummy turkey and mouth-watering dressing. I enjoy being with family and friends and remembering all that we have to be thankful for, but am I really giving proper credit to the things I am thankful for?

This year has brought us two new members to our family and an expanding family is one to be grateful for. First is our new son-in-law, Jason Wilham, and although he an Amber have only been married a few months, he is the perfect fit for our family. Our second addition is a brand-new great niece, Desiree Carter, precious daughter of my niece, Ashley. Desiree is the first new baby in our family in over 16 years and we are thankful to be celebrating her first Thanksgiving. A new son and a new baby – my family is truly blessed

During this past summer, my family lived through a traumatic time in our lives - a fire at our home. This was not a total loss fire, but it did enough damage to disrupt our lives for several months. In addition to redoing the laundry room – where the fire occurred – we also had smoke and water damage to clean in the kitchen and living room. You don’t realize how much of a packrat you are until your pack-ratty ways are staring you right in the face.

Really? There are just so many file folders of corrected stories I can keep – why do I feel the need to hold on to every corrected copy? Really? There are just so many foam cups from Speedway my hubby can bring into the house – why do I feel the need to save every one? Really? There are just so many glass jars one family can own and use – why do I feel the need save them all instead of placing in the recycle bin?

Our clutter problem probably wouldn’t be so bad if it were just me, but my hubby is a packrat, too, and between us, we have a hard time letting anything go. Both of us can see objects in a new light, with a new purpose and we know that one day, we will need this item. The problem is, we never have enough time or energy to do anything with the item. I’ve saved old furniture thinking I can refurbish is, I’ve saved old pots and pans thinking I can use them as flower pots or seed starters and I’ve saved plastic bottles thinking to make mini-greenhouses for spring plants. I really do have good intentions, but for some reason, life just gets in the way.

For many years we used to eat Pizza Hut pizza every Friday night – it was a family tradition to have pizza and a movie on Fridays. I always saved the boxes because they could be used to make stepping-stones. At one time, I had a stack of boxes in my kitchen I called the “leaning tower of pizza.” I did make some stepping-stones with a few of the boxes, but the process took so long and the stones were so heavy, I couldn’t move them by myself. I did use some of the boxes as a weed barrier in a new garden bed and they worked beautifully when covered with mulch, but I could never use all the boxes I had saved.

After the fire, I was surprised to find a small stack of pizza boxes in the kitchen that had escaped the fire. It has been almost two years since we’ve routinely had Pizza Hut pizza on Friday night – two years! With the economy so bad, I’ve started making homemade pizza because it is cheaper and we can control the toppings. Why was I still holding on to old pizza boxes? I don’t know, but I took a deep breath and threw them in the trash.

Although I realize possessions can be replaced, we did lose a few things of sentimental value that will be greatly missed, our cedar wardrobe being the largest. The wardrobe actually belonged to my mother-in-law, but we’ve been using it since we were married over 20 years ago. I loved that wardrobe and I had always planned to have it turned into an entertainment center for our living room so we could see the beautiful wood. Inside the wardrobe were my wedding dress and the first quilt I ever made. I’ve saved them both, but they will never be able to be used again. Part of my packrat mind won’t let me throw them away because I may be able to turn them into a pillow or something, but who knows?

Other things, like the washer and dryer, deep freezer and clothes organizer – these will all be replaced. No sentimental attachment to these things. Old winter clothes waiting to be put back into use; we can always buy new clothes. Some Halloween decorations were also in the laundry room waiting to decorate for fall, but maybe I had too many decorations; maybe the universe is trying to tell me simple is really best.

This year at Thanksgiving, I’m thankful the rest of our house was spared. I’m thankful my husband, my daughter or myself were not at home. We grieve for the loss of our three beautiful cats, but we have lost pets before and I’m sure we’ll lose pets again. I am thankful for the love and support of our family and friends and I am grateful for all their thoughts and prayers. This year, Thanksgiving is blossoming in a new light. This year, it really is a season to give thanks.

Hallowed and Hushed

Unknown. Hallowed and Hushed be the place of the dead. Step Softly. Bow Head.

Living in Harrodsburg my entire life, I have a sentimental attachment to Youngs Park, located on Linden Avenue, between the Mercer County Fairgrounds and Haggin Memorial Hospital. I have so many memories of playing in the park, eating picnic lunches and attending family functions. My Granny Devine lived within walking distance of the park and I’ve walked the short block from her home so many times, I could walk it blindfolded.

Youngs Park has always been one of my favorite places to escape to when looking for a nice, quiet lunch. Many times I have driven behind the park to the lower picnic tables and enjoyed a sandwich while watching the antics of the squirrels. The squirrels have become so used to human contact, they will sit within easy reach of picnic tables or cars, eagerly waiting for a scrap of bread or a French fry to be thrown their way.

Many of my fondest memories of Youngs Park occurred during my Girl Scout years and our annual summer Day Camp. One week of each summer was dedicated to numerous scouting projects with a different theme for each day. I can remember tie-dying T-shirts, painting pictures, cooking over a campfire, learning how to mark trails, just to name a few activities. During the summer of 1971, our favorite song to sing – and we sang it at the tops of our voices – was Three Dog Night’s “Jeremiah Was a Bullfrog.” We thought we were so cool.

The highlight of the Day Camp would be the sleepover on Friday night. For the sleepover, the Boy Scouts would come and help us set up tents in the back portion of the park. Camping out was exciting and we looked forward to it every year. Campfires, homemade stews, and s’mores were all on the list of activities.

Another eager awaited tradition for the sleepover was the telling of ghost stories. Because most of the Girl Scouts ranged in age from 8 to 14, we were all susceptible to having the beegeezus scared out of us! And Youngs Park was the perfect backdrop for these scary stories because of the legend of the “girl who danced herself to death.”

I’ve heard the story all my life – an unknown young girl arrived at the long-gone Graham Springs Hotel and attended a lavish ball where she danced all night. She eventually danced herself to death, collapsing onto the ballroom floor at the feet of her partner. She was buried in an unknown grave on the Graham Springs property. It is only as I’ve gotten older that I’ve had the desire to check more into this legend.

Historic Graham Springs was located in the area of the current Physician’s Park and Haggin Hospital and was on the site of a natural spring. There were numerous springs in the Harrodsburg area and they were reported to have healing and restorative properties.

This Spring, that would eventually be called Graham Springs, was turned into a spa as early as 1807. In 1827, Dr. Christopher C. Graham purchased the Springs and in 1842 constructed the main hotel, Graham Springs Hotel. The hotel was a brick four-story building which Graham said would hold one thousand people.

Graham charged a fee of $20 per month to stay at the Springs and “take the waters.” Not only did guests enjoy and benefit from healing waters, they also joined in a lively social season which lasted from June until September. Balls and other entertainment occupied the guests while they drank the mineral waters. Graham claimed the waters helped to alleviate the aches and pains of people who suffered from such aliments as gout, rheumatism, dropsy, neuralgia, and “Autumnal fevers.”
Often called the “Saratoga of the West,” Graham Springs flourished until 1853, when it was sold to the United States Government for use as a military asylum for aged and invalid soldiers. Fire later destroyed main buildings and the place fell into disuse.

Sometime between 1842 and 1853, legend says a beautiful young lady appeared at the Springs. No one knew who she was, but it is rumored she came from “down South.” When arriving at the Springs, she signed the guest register with a fictitious name. After her dancing death, she became known as the “unknown lady,” although most people from Mercer County still refer to her as “the lady who danced herself to death.”

After her death and burial at the Springs, a monument honoring her was erected. Currently, the tomb is located between the road and the shelter house, with a sign bearing the words:

Unknown
Hallowed and
Hushed be the
place of the dead.
Step Softly.
Bow Head.

As I child, I thought I saw the ghost of this mysterious lady on numerous occasions, but as I’ve grown older, I realize it was probably mass hysteria brought on by ghost stories around the campfire. Although, there was one night in 2004, as I was leaving work at the Haggin Hospital at three o’clock in the morning, I would swear I saw a woman dancing through the park. She appeared to be dressed in white and was walking near one of the large oak trees in the middle of the park. Thinking back, it was probably exhaustion or my mind playing tricks on me. But then again …



Added note: As recently as 2002, an article appeared in the Mercer’s Magazine claiming to have finally learned the identity of this unknown woman. This article can be read in its entirety at: http://www.angelfire.com/tn3/masterdetective2/Old_Mystery1.pdf.

Acknowledgement: I would like to thank my brother-in-law, Don Rightmyer, from the Kentucky Historical Society for helping me find information on Graham Springs.

Buildings of Days Gone By

In recent months, I have been so proud of all the improvements going on in downtown Harrodsburg. Historic buildings are being refurbished and repainted and new businesses continue to thrive despite the struggling economy. Even older businesses are beginning to join in the remaking process.

Three of my favorite businesses on Main Street are Studio G, Beehive Gifts and Kentucky Fudge Company. The first two are longtime businesses and continue to attract new customers every day. The Fudge Company may be a new face in downtown, but it is fast becoming a favorite spot in Harrodsburg.

Studio G – owned and operated by Goldie Goldsmith-Vigneri – offers instructions and seminars for men and women fours years old and up. Pageant training, vocal and acting lessons, and confidence building are just a tiny portion of what is offered at Studio G. In addition to lessons, Studio G can also be rented for private birthday parties, meetings, dinners, weddings and casino nights.

Beehive Gifts – owned and operated by Jim and Shirley Sprague – is a wonderful gift shop and great place to find all types of collectibles. Boyds Bears, Willow Tree Angels, Precious Moments, Tim Wolfe Sculptures, and Cherished Teddies are all available for purchase. Beehive Gifts also offers several different lines of candles, including Yankee, Bridgewater, Candleberry, and Woodwick. If you are having trouble finding the perfect gift, Beehive Gifts will offer the ideal suggestions.

Kentucky Fudge Company – owned and operated by Tim and Jennifer Kazimer - is located in the historic Dedman’s Drugstore. In addition to the yummy homemade fudge, Kentucky Fudge Company also offers an assortment of ice cream treats from cones to milkshakes to sundaes. The café offers a different soup of the day, as well as the Harrodsburger, chicken salad, olive nut loaf and several other sandwich options. Many groups have discovered the joys of meeting at the Fudge Company, including the Community of Mercer County Writers who meets every Tuesday evening at six o’clock.

As I reminisce about my favorite Harrodsburg locations, I am faced with the sobering reality that many historical places disappearing from our landscape, most notably the Mercer County Court House. I understand the need for more space in the Mercer judicial system, but watching the demolition of the court house has been very sad. I drive through downtown Harrodsburg every weekday on my way to work, so I have watched the demolition of this building with a heavy heart.

This also reminds me of the destruction of the Hat Factory several years ago. Until its demolition in 2003, the old St. Andrews convent – known as the Hat Factory – was the oldest residence in Harrodsburg. Although the ROC building owned by the Harrodsburg Baptist Church has been a huge success, I can’t help but wonder what our ancestors would think about our practice of tearing down a historic building to put up a gymnasium.

Most rural grocery stores have totally disappeared, only to be replaced by convenience stores with gas pumps. Two of my favorite stores, Purvis’ and Peavler’s, both ceased to operate while I was still a little girl. The building for Purvis’ Grocery was totally removed, replaced by the Mooreland Avenue entrance into Mr. Kwik. Peavler’s Grocery was located on Magnolia Street, and although the building is still standing, it is a sad reminder of our past. Other small stores I miss were located in Bohon, Duncan, and Antioch.

Driving through the country, I also notice many barns and outbuildings slowing falling into decay from lack of use. Tobacco barns and cattle barns with roofs falling in or lumber falling off, they are pictorial reminders of a life gone by. Occasionally you can still see old outhouses, smokehouse, springhouses and root cellars, but these are also disappearing with each day that goes by. Along with the shrinking of family farms go the buildings that made small farming possible. I recently heard someone call old barns, “the graying bones of our past;” poetic, but true.

Even the gas station where my father used to work is long gone. Once located at the intersection of Mackville and Perryville Roads, I have so many fond memories of visiting the gas station and being treated to a cold Coke from the old fashion machine. The old Mercer Roller Rink building is still standing, albeit vacant expect for one week during the year when the Grand Old Mercer County Fair and Horse Show comes to town. During this week, the old roller rink is turned into the pride of Mercer County with the many exhibitors of the Floral Hall.

The Harrodsburg City Pool is now nothing but memories – I actually cried when the pool and building was torn down. I spent so much of my childhood swimming in the pool and sunbathing on the decks overlooking the Salt River. Now the pool is only a memory and my children will never know the joys it could bring.

On some of my photography sessions throughout the Mercer countryside, I have discovered many old barns and buildings, and they are forever captured through pictures. One of my favorites is a small barn located at the intersection of Fallis Run and Bardstown Road near the Antioch Church. I think the reason I like this building is because of the large Coca-Cola sign hanging on the side of the barn. I have always admired these old tin signs hanging on buildings and they fetch a hefty price at flea markets and yard sales. Unfortunately, the last time I went to visit this old barn, someone had removed the Coca-Cola sign. I’d like to think the owners removed it to keep as a piece of nostalgia, but with the building being right next to the road, I have my doubts.

Take a drive in the country and admire the old barns and buildings before they are all gone. Think about the old courthouse as you watch the new construction on Main Street and visit the thriving businesses downtown. Our historic landscape is changing, so store up as many memories as possible to share with your children and grandchildren, because you never know when it will be gone.

CHILDHOOD MEMORIES

Have you ever wondered if the childhood memories you have are actual memories, or just other people’s interpretation of your memories? I sometimes wonder if my first memories are implanted memories from old photographs or stories told by my parents or grandparents. I have specific memories of the first home I remember living in and I know I lived in this home from the time I was two until just before my sixth birthday, but how much of what I remember is true memory?

As the oldest of three children - my brother, Brent, is 21 months younger than me, and my baby sister, Amy, was 19 months younger than my brother - we were like stair steps, three blond heads in a row. I’ve seen many childhood pictures of my siblings and me and we were usually always lined up by size, but I have no recollection of having these pictures made. No memories of the tears I’m sure we shed during photography sessions, after all, my kids shed lots of tears on occasion when having their pictures taken.

I think I can remember my brother as a baby, lying beside him on my parent’s double bed. But is it really a memory? It may just be the picture I have hanging in my hallway, the one of the two of us laying on the bed. Granny Devine used to tell me I was like a little mother hen, but I think this is my recollection of her memory, not my own memory. I do have a vivid memory of pushing Brent in a toy car in the backyard and try as I might, I can’t find a picture like this, so I feel this is a true memory.

I have another vivid memory of my brother, and he was walking, so I must have been at least three, if not a little older. We were playing in the backyard with our Farmer See ‘n Say and I was trying to teach him the sounds of all the animals. When a thunderstorm blew up, Mom rushed us inside before it started raining, but in our hurry to get inside, we left the See ‘n Say in the yard. Mom tried her best to get me to run across the yard to get the toy before the rain ruined it, but I was too afraid of the rain. She ended up racing into the yard while my brother and I both cried at the back door. I don’t remember anything else about the See ‘n Say, but this is one toy I bought when I had children of my own.

I also remember the Inchworm riding toy we used to own. These toys were very popular in the 1960s, and they are still popular today. You can find them in most stores selling toys, or on the Internet. Brent and I, and later Amy, used to take turns riding the Inchworm – up and down, up and down, from one end of the sidewalk to another. This is another toy I bought for my own children and they loved it as much as I did.

One of my fondest memories is of swinging on our swing set and singing at the top of my lungs for my next door neighbor to come out and play with me. Diane was probably five or six years older than me, but I followed her around like a little puppy dog. I would get on the swing glider and sing; “Diane, Diane, come out and play with me.” I can vividly remember this and my Mom also remembers this. A few years ago I met Diane again for the first time in probably 35 years, and she remembered me singing for her to come out and play. I know this is not an implanted memory, because I can actually remember the tune of the made-up song I sang.

One other memory I have is of a baby chicken my brother and I owned. I’m not sure if it was an Easter present or not, but I think it must have been. The chicken eventually got too big to keep in the house, and we were going to have to take it to Granny and Granddaddy’s farm in Bohon. I cried so hard because I didn’t want the chick to leave. On the day we were to take the chick to the farm, I was in charge of carrying the chicken which we had placed in a closed box. On the way to the car, my parents were too busy talking, so I lagged behind so I could hide the chicken. Passing by the tobacco barn behind our house, I opened one of the side vents of the barn and threw my chicken in, closing the vent as quickly as I could. Unfortunately for me, we only got a few miles out of town before Mom and Dad missed the chicken and I was forced to tell them what I did. I’m sure I probably got into trouble, but I don’t remember that.

Real or implanted, pictorial or video, I have many memories of my childhood, but try as I might, I’m really not sure what my very first memory is. All I know for sure is that I love to share my memories with my children, and I love to listen to the memories they remember from their lives. Memories are special, and sometimes fragile, so go out and make some memories with your children today.

RED-TAILED HAWKS

For almost 6 years now, I have enjoyed the antics of a pair of Red-tailed Hawks who live in a tree near the back of my property. I love to watch these beautiful birds floating high above the trees, gracefully gliding through the air.

Red-tailed Hawks are large birds with razor sharp talons and can be very aggressive when defending nests or territories. They frequently chase off other hawks, eagles, and Great Horned Owls.

The Red-tailed Hawk is the most common hawk – raptor – in North American occupying just about every type of open habitat on the continent. This includes grasslands, roadsides, deserts, scrublands, pastures, parks and even rainforests. They love to soar above open fields, slowly turning in circles on their broad, rounded wings looking for prey. They also enjoy sitting on telephone poles or other tall structures watching for a meal.

Mammals make up the majority of the Hawks diet, including voles, rats, mice, rabbits, squirrels and snakes. Yes, I’ve seen my Red-tails flying by with a snake clutched in their razor sharp talons. They will also eat other birds: starlings, blackbirds, bobwhites and pheasants.

It is this love of other birds that lead to a hilarious sight a few weeks ago when I came home from work. As I pulled off the highway into my subdivision, I noticed one of my Red-tailed Hawks frantically flying overhead, but he (or she) was not alone. Hot on the Hawks red tail were three Starlings. The Starlings were dipping and weaving, trying their best to attack the swift Hawk. I can only surmise Mr. or Mrs. Red-tail had decided on baby Starlings for lunch. As Starlings are the one bird I dislike, I was rooting for the Hawks.

The Red-tailed Hawk has a raspy scream sounding exactly like a raptor should sound. It is this shrill calling that alerts me to the adventures of my Hawks. I enjoy sitting in the backyard and watching their aerial acrobatics.

The largest female Red-tailed Hawk only weighs about three pounds, but it is still one of the largest birds on the continent. The Hawks typically hunt in pairs, each guarding opposite sides of the same tree in order to catch a squirrel.

Both male and female Hawks help with building the nest, many times just refurbishing their nest from a previous years – this is what my Hawks do, because their nest is always in the same tall tree. Usually the nests are tall piles of dry sticks and the inner aspect is lined with bark strips, fresh foliage, and dry vegetation. Red-tailed Hawks typically put their nests in the crowns of tall trees where they have a commanding view of the landscape. They have also been known to nest on a cliff ledge or on artificial structures such as window ledges and billboard platforms.

Courting Red-tailed Hawks can be seen soaring in wide circles very high in the sky. The male will make a steep dive, and then shoot up again at an equally steep angle. He performs this ritual several times before approaching the female from above. He will extend his legs and briefly touch the female before flying away. Occasionally, the pair will grab onto each other by clasping talons and spiraling downward – they will then pull away before coming near the ground. Mated pairs typically stay together until one of the pair dies.

After courtship, the mother usually lays three eggs and sits on the eggs to keep them warm while the father hunts and feeds her. The babies will hatch after 30 days and they are covered with white down. The babies learn to fly just before they are two months old, but they still depend on their parents for food. During the summer, the fledglings follow their parents around, watching and learning how to hunt. Because Red-tailed Hawks are very territorial, it may be hard for the young hawks to find a new place to live. They typically leave the parents after the first year, but they are two or three years old before they mate and start raising babies of their own.

I’ve had the privilege of watching my pair go through the mating ritual several times and it is beautiful to behold. For the past two summers, this ritual has produced two hatchlings each year. When I saw the first set of babies learning to fly, it was so fascinating. All summer and fall I watched the babies learning to hunt with the parents, but then when colder weather was here to stay, I lost track of the babies.

By the following spring, the babies were not longer flying high with the parents. I’m not sure where the babies migrated to, but they haven’t stayed around with their parents. I guess when young Hawks fly the coop they stay gone.

Red-tailed hawks usually live six to seven years in the wild, so I’m preparing for my pair to be gone in the next few years. I just hope they are replaced by another pair of lovely hawks – maybe the offspring of my current pair - because there is nothing better than forgetting the stresses of the day by watching the free forms of the Red-tailed Hawk.