Saturday, April 16, 2011


Dear Beth~ I’ve been meaning to tell you how much the digital picture frame you gave us means to me. I realized today that Dad finds pleasure in my latest downloads to it, too, when he mentioned one particularly beautiful flower, describing it so well I knew exactly THE ONE from around thirty I had just added! I confess I keep wondering just how many pictures the frame will hold before it hops off the desk or counter top, whichever place I have it for viewing or loading at the moment, and yells, "WAIT! STOP! ENOUGH, ALREADY!" So far, that hasn't occurred, but I am expecting it at any moment because I think I see the sides swelling like the cheeks on a kid puffing out as he/she prepares to blow a bubble in a bubble-gum-blowing contest! Last year, I took my digital camera…you know, the one I told Dad I didn’t want, but he bought for me anyway?…and headed towards a beautiful bunch of bluebonnets carpeted between the walkway of a private home and a busily traveled street near our house. I thought, “They are so beautiful, surely the owner won’t mind if I stand in the street and take pictures of just the flowers,” As I stood there doing so, a kind woman came from the house and invited me to come closer, saying, “They are beautiful this year, aren’t they? I have irises over here, if you’d like to take pictures of them as well.” Next thing I knew, her next-door neighbor came over and invited me to her house, too, not only to the front yard filled with a variety of roses and more irises, but also into her back yard where her kitties wrapped their tails around my legs as she and I visited while I took more pictures with the digital camera…the one I was sure I’d never use. I came home having made two new friends - six if you count the four-footed, long-tailed ones - and with my camera filled with pictures of bluebonnets, deep-red roses, irises of several colors, orange-red poppies, and even a buzzing bee. I downloaded the pictures onto my computer, then into the digital frame. Over the past year, every time I have taken flower pictures, I have added to the collection. I have had many opportunities with other neighbors inviting me into their yards. I have photographed gorgeous golden roses, yellow and lavender irises, red-orange amaryllis, peace roses, many additional flowers as well. And each time, as soon as I got those flowers downloaded and saved to my computer, one of the next steps was to add the favorites to the digital frame. Once I found out how much fun I could have with the digital camera I didn’t want, I went to our local rose garden. One day last week, it was time, so I went again. I took nearly two-hundred pictures. Of course I didn’t keep all of them and I certainly didn’t ask the photo frame to hold every one I did save, but I added plenty to it that day. Then, yesterday I went to the city park where I added most of an additional hundred pictures to my floral collection. Again, the digital frame wasn’t asked to hold every one, but the favored few have been added today. So far, so good. No yelling for me to stop yet. I am thankful because to me, the digital frame is a place of peace. It holds a slideshow of wonderful moments of meeting new friends, of lovely blue clouds drifting by in the sky, majestic sunrises and sunsets, a variety of flowers that can only be conjured up in the mind of a magnificent Creator, of quiet time spent down by the riverside, and a reminder that someone who understood provided my heart’s desire for a quiet place to parade my pictures. Thank you, Beth. Love always, Mom

Wednesday, April 13, 2011


Picture of Kent and me taken in June of 2003

It was the summer of 1948. I was eight years old. My mother and I were invited to go to Augusta, the capital city of the State of Maine, for a special afternoon celebration of the Three-Quarter-Century-Club.

Since I have already explained my age, it should be obvious, that the three-quarter-century, wouldn’t describe my mother, but if you guessed it to include one of my grandparents, you would be correct. My Grandpa, William Herbert Glidden, had celebrated his seventy-fifth birthday on May tenth of that year; therefore, he was eligible to be a member in good standing of the Three-Quarter-Century-Club.

As we approached the Augusta Armory building that lovely summer afternoon with Grandpa and my Aunt Charlotte, who drove us there, I had no idea what to expect, but I soon realized the place was filled with a huge crowd of very happy old people! The folks milled around with greetings of those who hadn’t seen one another for long periods of time. I overheard conversations and witnessed hugs that told me of family connections from different parts of the state.

Even at my age, there was joy in observing these reunions, but to my delight there were more surprises to come. A hush fell as everyone found folding chair seating in that huge building. Attention was directed to the stage. The men who stood there fit the three-quarter-century (and more) qualifications, as they cradled their well-tuned and warmed-up fiddles, ready to start the entertainment of the afternoon. And what an entertainment it was! Fiddle-playing at its finest was presented to the constantly-smiling, foot-tapping, (sometimes foot-stomping!) audience. All too soon it, like all good things, had to come to an end. As I write this, I am fully aware that the fiddle-playing of those particular men has also ended; however the memory of the joy they gave this girl that warm summer afternoon of her eighth year lingers like the resonant sounds of a bow on the strings.

Three-quarters of a century seemed old to me that day. Today, it doesn’t seem so old. Today, my brother, Kent Wilmer Libby, celebrates his seventy-fifth birthday. Although he says the winter has been a rough one, he definitely is not as old as the long-ago men who played those fiddles! If the Three-Quarter-Century-Club is still around, Kent is eligible to be a member in good standing, just as our grandpa was, but times and people have changed. I doubt the club is still in existence. An Internet search provided no information about it. Of course, there are still wonderful gatherings of great fiddle-players who bring crowds of happy folks together to help create memories for new generations, but whether we celebrate with fiddles or phone calls, three-quarters of a century is still something marvelous to celebrate.


© Marilyn Sue (Libby) Moore 4-13-2011

Tuesday, April 5, 2011


Today, April 5th, would have been my friend Wanda's birthday.

I miss her in so many ways.