Bear Swamp Reflections

and life goes on

2012-01-24T06:19:00.000-05:00

It's busy at our house these days. Our daughter Aimee and grandchildren Gaige, Nathan, and Kaitlyn are living with us temporarily (since Christmas) while she is going through a divorce. It's been a rough ten+ years for her, and sometimes for the kids. She married very young, one month before Gaige was born. She was headstrong and was drawn to the bad boy persona in young men. Unfortunately, what age and wisdom and actually living with a person day in and day out brings is the knowledge that bad boys don't treat women with respect. They don't hold down jobs. They care more about themselves than they do the people whom they claim to love. They don't accept responsibility for their own actions, always blaming someone else for their mistakes and wrongdoing. They possess, rather than love. They have violent tempers.

I love having my daughter back. She's her old self again...the person she had suppressed for many years...the wickedly funny, extremely intelligent girl she used to be. The woman who for so long was allowed only the friends chosen by her husband, ones he could control. She has reconnected with so many of her childhood and teenage friends, friends whom SHE chose. She's back in school, getting a degree in nuclear medicine technology and doing great...getting all A's. I can have lunch or go shopping with my daughter whenever I want, something that hasn't happened in all those years. She is a part of our family once again. She is finally getting her life together. I have my daughter back!

Christmas was hard. We went through the motions and even enjoyed parts of it, but it was so different. I didn't send Christmas cards for the first time in forty years. A friend to whom I hadn't spoken since before Christmas pinpointed the reason for me yesterday...it was because I couldn't take the annual grandkids family portrait. There were no raucous and crazy portrait sessions as in years past. I know it wasn't fair to the other kids, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. There would have been too big a hole.

That space will be filled just a little come June. Jaye and Kelly are expecting a son! We are all so happy for them. They hurried just a little, because of Kelly's age (she's 42), and because they don't want Matthew to grow up an only child. He is so lonely. He clings to Kaitlyn when she visits. Aimee let her spend the weekend with them last week and she and Matt had a great time. But when it came time for her to come home, it was devastating for Matthew. He cried and cried, begging her not to leave. We're hoping this new baby will bring some solace and comfort to them...to all of us. We will celebrate his birth with joy.

Meanwhile, we're still waiting on justice to prevail. The driver who killed Lauren was charged with vehicular homicide and vehicular manslaughter, but after the arraignment, the prosecutor received the records from her cell phone company and they confirmed that she was texting at the time of the crash. Also, the crime scene investigators finally determined her speed...70 mph on impact. Jaye had started moving his vehicle, but was going only 10 mph. The prosecutor is hoping to use the new evidence to bump the charge up to aggravated vehicular homicide, which is a felony in Ohio, and carries a much more commensurate sentence. We have hope that the judge will actually apply the sentence, instead of giving her a slap on the wrist. There have been two similar cases in Ohio recently where the judges have cracked down on this kind of behavior and given the maximum sentence. I know that no amount of time in jail will bring our Lauren back, but maybe it will prevent someone else from being killed. Maybe our state legislature will pull their heads out of their collective ass and get a bill passed that prohibits texting while driving; indeed, prohibits all cell phone use while driving. It's not that hard to do. I've given it up, and so has my entire family. I was never a texter while I was driving, but I did do a lot of catch-up phoning to family and friends. I don't even miss it. It is actually rather freeing.

Our winter has been fairly mild so far. Kind of a crazy December and January with lots of rain. In fact, Ohio's all-time precipitation record was broken in 2011. I wish we could have sent some of that rain to the drought-stricken states. Of course, we still have two months of winter to look forward to, and our February is usually much worse than January, so I'm sure there will be plenty of opportunities to scrape the driveway and shovel the sidewalks. We had a wood-burning fireplace insert installed in October, and we've been enjoying the wonderful heat, which is sometimes a little too wonderful. Thanksgiving Day I spent cooking in shorts and a t-shirt with the kitchen window wide open, while my in-laws huddled around the wood-burner with three layers of clothes. And it was 65 degrees outside. Lordy!

David retired in September after 37 years with the same company. They gave him a wonderful send-off. He loves being home, and I love having him at home. The only bad thing is that he started falling apart nearly as soon as the ink dried on his severance papers. He has been having severe pain in his right hip and pain in his back. After trying his primary doctor, and then an osteopath, who weren't able to help him, he finally saw an orthopedic specialist last week. The cartilage in his right hip joint is completely gone. He will be having a total hip replacement this spring. He's also seeing a neurologist/spine specialist tomorrow to rule out any spinal problems. He's very upbeat about the hip surgery. Everyone we've talked to who has had it done or knows someone who has, says it improves their lives about 99%. David has been so used to being active and doing whatever he wants, that this has been a real setback for him, and he is willing to do whatever it takes to get back to his normal self. He has been looking forward to his retirement for several years, and we have a lot of travel plans, and he wants to be able to do all those things and enjoy life. I guess I will get to polish up my nursing skills. It will make up for the times when I rolled my eyes behind his back after listening to him go on and on about it. No, really. Endlessly. All. Day. Long. I feel bad about it. Don't tell him.

I feel terrible that I haven't visited my wonderful bloggy friends nearly as much as I wanted. I've popped in on a few of you, and I've read more than I've commented. I'm hoping to return full-force to blogging after the dust settles around here. It's a little hard for the elderly to concentrate with three kids in the house, and then there's the laundry and the cooking and the cleaning, etc. It feels good to write this though, so I know I'm not finished with my story. Not yet.

ADDENDUM: I found out yesterday that the county prosecutor will NOT be adding an aggravated vehicular homicide charge. Quoting from an email from my daughter-in-law to the texting ban bill advocate with whom I've been working.

"The county prosecutor's office believes that the text being the
same minute as the crash leaves it open for the assailant to say she
made the text after the crash. This would not be believable given her
statement there were no texts made before of after the crash. Also the
1st 911 call was at 1:48 and 37 seconds by a passerby on a bicycle. He
could dispute this as well.

"Also we see that H.B. 99 has opponents claiming that our
current "reckless laws" cover it and there is no need for another law.
Our case reflects that this simply is not the case. I don't think you
could get any closer than a 1:47 text with a 1:47 crash and for county
prosecutors to refuse it as a "recklessness" case based on "evidentiary
issues" is a disgrace."

There is a ladder up from the abyss

2011-10-15T07:52:00.000-04:00

Dear friends,

I know all of you have been very concerned about our family, and especially our son Jaye. I'm here to update you. Since my last post, there has been tremendous improvement. Jaye (and Kelly, too) has been responding to therapy in a positive way. He is laughing a little when he talks about Lauren, remembering good times with her, and is able to think about her in a way that he wasn't before. Of course, the sadness and heartache will never completely go away, but that he is able to talk about her without breaking down is a huge step in his healing. I'm not naive; I know there are times when he is alone that he relapses, but now he is able to pull himself out of it relatively quickly. I also believe that he has become more accepting of the fact that they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, and he had no control over that.

We felt confident enough in his recovery, that we were able to take our planned camping trip to northern Michigan to see the beautiful fall color, and it has been spectacular. This is our first trip here, but I know it won't be our last. We've fallen in love with the Lake Leelanau region and the Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore. We made our plans months ago, but we were right on in the timing for peak color.

I want to apologize for my lack of attention to your blogs, especially considering how wonderful you all have been to me. You are good and loyal friends. I will get back to them someday. I hope it won't be long. I will have a lot more time as the cold weather sets in and keeps me indoors. I will leave you with a little of the beauty of northern Michigan in autumn.

Love, Susan

The view from our campsite at Lake Leelanau RV Park.

Young turkeys crossing the road. They joined a huge flock of thirty or more.

One of the many vineyards in the area...Crooked Maple Vineyard.

The birch trees are everywhere, and the bark is outstanding against the fall color.

From atop Sleeping Bear Dunes, looking out to Big Glen Lake.

And, of course, you know this is a milkweed pod. It's hard to believe this sand could support the diverse vegetation.

From atop Sleeping Bear Dunes, looking toward Betsie Point in Lake Michigan. It is a 450-ft. drop to the water.

No explanation needed.

An inlet in Omena, on Grand Traverse Bay.

A funky little airport/park, where the airstrip is grass, and there is no hangar, only tie-downs.

At Grand Traverse Lighthouse...the wind was 50 mph, and the waves were fast and furious.

Nearly big enough for surfing, but kinda scary.

Grand Traverse Lighthouse. The flag was flying half-mast to honor National Fallen Firefighters.

Historic Fishtown in Leland, Michigan

Again, Historic Fishtown

Waves breaking on the seawall in Leland, Michigan

How can I help him heal?

2011-09-22T09:13:00.001-04:00

He is a truth seeker. Every day he searches for a way to find blame with himself for the accident. Why didn't they stay five minutes longer at the park? Why didn't they go to the restaurant where Lauren wanted to go?...it would have taken longer. Why didn't he go a different route, instead of the one he usually took? Why did they take the dogs? Why didn't he put her in a five-point harness car seat (even though she was really too tall for one)? Why, why, why, why....'how can I go on living' is the question he asks himself a hundred times a day. I listen to him and try to reassure him that there is only one person to blame, and it is not he. The investigator has spent hours with him doing the same. It is breaking my heart that I've not only lost a precious granddaughter, but now it seems I am losing my son as well...the only son I have left.

The investigators are almost positive that she was texting, or at the very least making a phone call. There seems to be no other explanation for the complete lack of attention to her driving. They have subpoenaed the telephone records from her carrier. They do know that she had a dropped call at 1:47 p.m., and the first 911 call came in at 1:48, and she made a call to her husband at 1:49. The prosecutor was dismayed that the (older, not tech-savvy) officer at the scene didn't confiscate her phone as he should have, but he did note the time of her dropped call.

I was mistaken about her having just left a funeral. She had attended one that morning, but afterward had lunch with her husband, and was heading back to work, probably in a hurry. She admitted that she saw the deer crossing the road and the car that was also stopped in the opposite lane, that she placed her foot on top of the brake, but she didn't see their vehicle, and she didn't depress the brake pedal. The investigators determined mathematically that she had anywhere from five to eight seconds to react. Five to eight seconds. Count it out. Even if she had seen them at the last second and had braked, it might have saved Lauren's life. She was going 55-60 mile per hour and hit a stopped vehicle, on a straight, flat road, in good weather, in broad daylight. She has hired the most powerful law firm in Dayton.

The prosecutor says that he will charge her with nothing less than vehicular manslaughter, but he will try to make a case for vehicular homicide, neither of which carries more than a slap on the wrist, because they are misdemeanors. And because they are not felonies, even if convicted, she will not have it on her record permanently. Slight justice for the walking wounded.

But I don't really care about that. I just want my son to be whole again.

Saturday Serenade

2011-09-17T05:00:00.006-04:00

The honey-smooth voice of Johnny Hartman and golden tenor sax of John Coltrane.

NIGHTCLUB

You are so beautiful and I am a fool

to be in love with you

is a theme that keeps coming up

in songs and poems.

There seems to be no room for variation.

I have never heard anyone sing

I am so beautiful

and you are a fool to be in love with me,

even though this notion has surely

crossed the minds of women and men alike.

You are so beautiful, too bad you are a fool

is another one you don't hear.

Or, you are a fool to consider me beautiful.

That one you will never hear, guaranteed.

For no particular reason this afternoon

I am listening to Johnny Hartman

whose dark voice can curl around

the concepts of love, beauty, and foolishness

like no one else's can.

It feels like smoke curling up from a cigarette

someone left burning on a baby grand piano

around three o'clock in the morning;

smoke that billows up into the bright lights

while out there in the darkness

some of the beautiful fools have gathered

around little tables to listen,

some with their eyes closed,

others leaning forward into the music

as if it were holding them up,

or twirling the loose ice in a glass,

slipping by degrees into a rhythmic dream.

Yes, there is all this foolish beauty,

borne beyond midnight,

that has no desire to go home,

especially now when everyone in the room

is watching the large man with the tenor sax

that hangs from his neck like a golden fish.

He moves forward to the edge of the stage

and hands the instrument down to me

and nods that I should play.

So I put the mouthpiece to my lips

and blow into it with all my living breath.

We are all so foolish,

my long bebop solo begins by saying,

so damn foolish

we have become beautiful without even knowing it.

~Billy Collins~

Lauren Elizabeth Drummond

2011-08-17T05:20:00.002-04:00

Lauren Elizabeth Drummond

Photo taken by her Poppy on August 14, 2011

Taken from us on August 15

She was so full of life, from the moment she was born. Full of intense curiosity and intelligence, she wanted to be in the middle of every conversation. Her smile was radiant and at times mischievous. She liked to get her own way, and often if she got the better of me, she would say "You're the best, Grammy!" She loved Princesses and pink and animals and dancing and music, and so many things, everything, really, about life.

How is it possible for a child to be laughing and happy after a day with her family and her two dogs, spent at the park where they had a picnic and fed the ducks...how can she be here one minute and the next minute be gone? Her daddy stopped to let a deer cross the road as did other drivers on the opposite side of the road. This young woman, herself a mother of young children, will forever have to live with the fact that her inattention took my wonderful granddaughter's life away forever. There were no skid marks...she never even slowed down. She had just left a funeral and was on her way back to work. Even though Lauren and her brother were secured in safety seats, the impact of the crash drove her seat forward as her daddy's seat broke and collapsed backward. The surgeon did everything he could to put her back together, but there was just too much trauma to her brain. Her mommy, who herself is a registered nurse/nurse practitioner, knew at the scene that it was very, very bad, but hoped against hope that she was wrong.

Lauren will be laid to rest beside her Uncle Joshua, who she never got to know. She will be wearing a beautiful pink dress, a pink hat, in a pink Princess casket, with her dog Molly's ashes tucked in beside her.

2011-08-15T20:18:00.002-04:00

My baby girl Lauren is dead from a car accident.

The City of Bridges

2011-07-17T23:29:00.001-04:00

Pittsburgh is known as the "City of Bridges", and for good reason; there are 446 of them just within the city limits. That isn't counting the numerous others in Allegheny County. Now, you know how I feel about bridges, and if you don't, THIS will remind you.

This weekend we attended a wedding at the John Heinz History Center in downtown Pittsburgh. What a beautiful venue for a wedding!

The beautiful bride, Lauren

The ceremony would prove to be short and sweet.

Because there were two weddings taking place Saturday evening, we weren't allowed to tour the exhibits, which was a shame. It is a wonderful exploration of the city's past as the center of steel production in this country, as well as its role in sports and arts history.

When we lived in the Pittsburgh area from 1995 to 2000, I had the opportunity to tour the museum when it first opened, and it was fascinating. I also had the opportunity to be scared out of my mind about driving in Pittsburgh. Our son Josh was attending the Art Institute of Pittsburgh, and for some reason missed the last bus to make his connection to the neighboring county where we lived. He called me for a ride home. Having ridden with David several times into the city, I knew what I was up against...the many streets and highways and interstates that converge in a relatively small area make a bowl of spaghetti look like a bunch of straight lines. If you happen to get in the wrong lane, it's hard to tell where you might end up.

So, I plotted my driving strategy with my trusty pre-GPS city map, wrote down my directions, and headed out with only a few heart palpitations. In about 30 minutes, the palpitations turned into thudding heartbeats and sweaty palms. I'm sure you can guess that I chose the wrong lane and ended up crossing one of the dreaded bridges, which led directly to a dreaded tunnel, but I turned before the tunnel and ended up on Mt. Washington.

Though it offers a stunning view of the confluence of the Allegheny River and the Monongahela River to create the Ohio River, it was not a balm to my troubled soul, not in the least. Luckily, it was not the pre-cellphone era, and I called David at his office, which was not downtown. Crying and hiccuping, I explained to him what happened and that I was too scared to even attempt to find my way back across the river, fearing that I would end up in an even worse mess. David talked me down "off the bridge", so to speak, and said he would go pick up poor Josh, who no doubt was wondering what in the world had happened to his mother, and then he would come and lead me down off Mt. Washington.

After that experience, it was a year or more before I would even attempt to drive into the city again, but my friend Lynn finally convinced me I had to conquer my fears and went with me to help. She wasn't much better at it than I was, but at least I didn't feel all alone. We went several times to the Strip District, where we bought wonderful Italian cheeses and breads and other yummy goodies. We also had excursions to the Frick Art & Historical Museum and to the Phipps Conservatory.

Today, David and I took a walkabout downtown and to Point State Park (shown above in the MW view). This is my take on the confounding, but beautiful, bridges of Pittsburgh...a few of them anyway.

The view from our hotel room (right across the street from the History Center) looking out toward the Allegheny River.

The dreaded Fort Pitt Bridge and tunnel on the far end. Mt. Washington is above.

Mt. Washington skyline. In the right third of the picture, you can faintly see the incline.

Visible in this picture are four driving/pedestrian bridges across the Allegheny River, plus a railroad trestle. In the foreground, is the Roberto Clemente Bridge (6th St. Bridge), next is the Andy Warhol (7th St. Bridge) and the Rachel Carson (9th St. Bridge). Allegheny Landing Park has bike and walking paths along both sides of the river.

From the north side of the Allegheny, looking toward downtown.

PNC Park, which replaced the old Three Rivers Stadium, home of the Pittsburgh Pirates. The building in the river houses River Rescue, made famous in the movie "Striking Distance"

Loved the reflection of other buildings caught in this all-glass building.

I love the way the center of the building is open.

The architecture in Pittsburgh is interesting and diverse. This building resembles one of the many Russian Orthodox and Greek Orthodox churches in the city.

If you have never visited Pittsburgh, put it on your bucket list. There is much to explore and many bridges to cross.

Nel 1492, Colombo salpò l'oceano blu

2011-07-01T07:34:00.000-04:00

If you don't speak Italian (and I don't), the above phrase says "In 1492, Columbus sailed the ocean blue." I learned that in grade school and I'm sure most of you did as well.

Columbus, Ohio is the largest city in the United States bearing the name of Christopher Columbus. Growing up in my era, we learned from our history books about Columbus and thought of him as a hero. Now, of course, we know that he and his men weren't very ethical in their treatment of island natives. Nevertheless, cities that chose him as a namesake have not changed their names in protest. Columbus, Ohio even has, docked riverside on the Scioto River in Batelle Riverfront Park, the world's most authentic, museum-quality replica of Columbus' flagship, the Santa Maria. It was built in 1991 by Scarano Boatbuilding Inc. of Albany, New York, to commemorate the 500-year anniversary of Columbus' voyage.

On the same day as the visit to the Deaf School Topiary Park, the grandkids and I paid a visit to the famous replica. This was also a surprise for them...they didn't know it existed. They were so excited and listened intently to every word.

The overall length of the Santa Maria is 98 feet. Its height from the keel to the top of the main mast is 89 feet. The hull planking consists of 44,000 board feet of Port Orford (Oregon) cedar. The deck planking and spars were built with 22,000 board feet of Douglas fir. The frames used 24,000 board feet of Alaskan yellow cedar. There are 2,700 feet of sails. Four thousand linear feet of line make up the rigging. Fifty-five gallons of tar was used to preserve the fixed rigging. It weighs 130 tons, including the ballast.

The main mast is 65-feet tall and is carved from a single Douglas fir. It carries the mainsail and the topsail. After construction, the ship was cut in half through the entire length and carried on two trucks. It was delivered to the opposite side of the Scioto River, where it was reassembled. The farthest it has ever sailed was across the river to its permanent mooring.

Rolled up pallets in steerage

I wasn't listening.

String of pearls

When the men on board needed to take care of any business that required squatting, they climbed over the side of the ship, held onto these ropes, and when they were finished, they....

...pulled up this handy tool, which was kept on a thin rope and was below the water. Its name is "the bitter end". And now you know where that phrase originated. Yeah. There was only one. Salt water is very cleansing and a good disinfectant. I'm glad I live in the 21st century.

All in all, it was a great day with beautiful weather. We all learned and we all had a good time.

La Grande Jatte on a Wednesday Afternoon

2011-06-30T14:10:00.001-04:00

Remember this painting?

"A Sunday Afternoon on the Isle de Grande Jatte" Georges Seurat 1884-86

In our fair state capital of Columbus, Ohio, there are numerous gems that draw visitors from other locales, and keep them coming back. One of these gems is the Deaf School Topiary Park. The Deaf School and its park date back to the early 19th century when it was founded by James T. Mason. Mason and his wife Elaine had dreamed about a topiary garden for years, and this painting was their muse. It was begun in 1992 and is a tribute to their dedication to the students they served.

This visit was a surprise outing for Gaige, Nathan and Kaitlyn. We ate a picnic on the outer edges of the park before viewing the topiary scene. They had no idea what lay beyond the rise as we ate our lunch.

The grandkids had a wonderful time in the park and Gaige kept thanking me for showing them one of my favorite places in Columbus.

Saturday Serenade

2011-06-25T08:14:00.000-04:00

The spectacular voice of Linda Eder singing "Vole Mon Angel" from "Svengali". And, because she is so much more, I also offer another:

the voice

2011-06-19T15:44:00.001-04:00

image by char

can a voice be lost,

if in passing, the presence

is no longer there?

will I remember

the whispered musings and diffuse images

without the physical shape?

i never saw her face;

she was shy that way,

curtaining herself behind sheer poetry.

ever there, a friend

whose countenance i did not know,

a chasm too large to fill.

charlane killough griffith

a life ended too soon

june 6, 2011

Saturday Serenade

2011-06-18T07:09:00.000-04:00

We saw a lot of these license plates in the Pikeville area.

Miss Patty Loveless knows about coal and coal mining. She grew up in Pikeville, Kentucky, in the heart of coal country.

Her daddy was a coal miner and died from Black Lung Disease, and the emotion you hear in her voice comes from her 'Mountain Soul'.

Mom, baseball and apple pie

2011-05-06T23:23:00.002-04:00

Mom and my stepdad Lawrence, at my brother 's house, the year before she passed away.

My mom Edith loved the Cincinnati Reds. She watched them play every chance she got on our little 19-inch color television. Cable television had yet to be invented and all of the games weren't broadcast on our local channels 3, 8 and 13. So, she would plug in the radio and tune into the AM station as clearly as she could. It usually sat on the back of the sofa, because that is where it got the best reception. She and my stepfather would sit in their not-too-big upholstered rockers and listen intently to the play-by-play given by Joe Nuxhall, a former Reds pitcher, and the "voice of the Cincinnati Reds", Marty Brennaman.

image by lethal_lane at photobucket

The most excited I think I ever saw my mother was during the 1975 and 1976 World Series games, when "The Big Red Machine" won both championships back-to-back. Beginning in 1970, rookie manager Sparky Anderson led "The Great Eight" to five NL Western Division titles, four National League pennants and the two World Series championships. They racked up records by the fistfuls. And in the 1977 and 1978 seasons, they finished in second place in the World Series. No wonder she loved them.

The roster was a dream team: Johnny Bench, who is heralded as the greatest catcher of all time, and at one time held the record for most home runs by a catcher, never played for any other ML team but his hometown Reds; Pete Rose, also a Cincinnati native, nicknamed Charlie Hustle, played third base and was a switch hitter and a hitting machine (thankfully, Mom never had to find out about his gambling disgrace); Tony Perez was on first base, Joe Morgan on second, and Dave Concepcion as shortstop. In the outfield were George Foster, left field; Cesar Geronimo, center; and Ken Griffey (Sr.) in right field. My mom loved every one of them and talked about them as if she knew each one personally, but she really had a crush on Johnny Bench.

Johnny was always a gentleman, on the field and off. He looked like the all-American boy-next-door. And he had a local connection. One of our neighbors had a daughter who happened to be roommates with Johnny's sister, whose name I can't remember. Mom loved to hear Diane's stories about the parties that she and the sister attended with Johnny and the other guys. I think Diane secretly hoped Johnny would ask her to marry him, but I think Johnny thought of her as his other little sister. Mom would have been so proud of Johnny when he was elected to the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1989 in his first year of eligibility, but sadly, in 1986, she died of a heart attack and didn't get to see him achieve this goal.

One of my biggest regrets is that Mom never got to attend a Reds game in person. She would have been a little scared to be out of her element, but a lot more excited to be near her beloved team. If I had only known how short our time with her would be, I would have made sure she got to see them play at least once. This Mother's Day will mark the 24th anniversary of her passing. I still miss her sweet voice and her pretty smile every day. To celebrate, I think I will tune in and see if the Reds are playing. With 23 channels showing nothing but sports, surely I will be able to find one with the Cincinnati Redlegs. Mom would have been in seventh heaven.

image taken from Food Network site, but it looks a lot like Mom's

Mom's Apple Pie

8 cups Golden Delicious apples, peeled, cored and thinly sliced

1/2 cup granulated sugar

1/2 cup light brown sugar

1/2 cup all-purpose flour

1/2 teaspoon cinnamon

1/4 teaspoon nutmeg

1/8 teaspoon salt

2 teaspoons lemon juice

4 tablespoons butter, cut in small pieces

1 10-inch double pie crust

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

In large bowl, toss together the apples and the next 7 ingredients, granulated sugar through lemon juice.

Line deep-dish 10-inch pie plate or pan with bottom crust. Place the apple mixture in the crust and dot with the cut-up butter. Cover with second crust and crimp edges. Cut an A for apple in the center.

Bake at 400 degrees for 40-50 minutes, or until crust is golden brown and filling is bubbly. If the edges of the crust are getting too brown, cover with aluminum foil strips.

Enjoy with a scoop of vanilla ice cream while it's still warm and watch your favorite baseball team while you scrape your plate and lick your lips.

Susan's Helpful Hints--For Ladies Only

2011-03-22T15:26:00.002-04:00

Girlfriends, I'm about to go all Dr. Ruth on you. This is especially for the ones who are experiencing menopausal, post-menopausal and peri-menopausal symptoms. For those of you who file sex advice (especially from a layperson) in the Too-Much-Information category, please feel free to skip on to the next blog. Well (gulp), here we go.....

I entered into menopause two months before my 50th birthday eight years ago. I had gone eleven months without having a period, but the week my second grandson was born I had a real doozy. Then I never had another. I was more than ready to be done with all that monthly stuff. What I wasn't ready for were the not-so-wonderful side effects. Oh, I'm not talking about hot flashes...yes, I had my share of them and they were uncomfortable as all get-out, but as much as I can recall, they never caused me any physical pain. The physical pain part started later.

As some of you know, menopause can cause hair and skin to become drier, and that includes ALL skin. Sometimes dry-as-a-desert dry. Sure, there are wonderful creams and silicone topical applications that one can use during intercourse, and I did. Tried 'em all. (Albolene works the best of any I tried. It's not just for makeup removal, friends.)

On my annual trips to the gynecologist, she would inquire if I were having any problems with intercourse, and I would sort of touch lightly on the subject. It isn't easy for me to talk about these things...I was raised in the 50's and 60's, y'know. She would suggest that I start taking some form of HRT (hormone replacement therapy), and I would turn her down immediately, especially after the studies came out that linked heart attacks and cancer to estrogen treatment. She even suggested a topical estrogen that is inserted vaginally. I try to avoid medicinal remedies at all costs and usually try to find some natural alternative...diet or herbal. And I would never, ever take the popular Premarin, or Prempro, or Premphase, or Prempac, or Premelle. They are all synthetic hormones that are made from PREgnant MARe's urINe. The way it is extracted is horrible.

What Are the Living Conditions of the Mares?

Since there are approximately 431 current Canadian and U.S. PMU farms (but only 308 producing farms as of 11/1/03), and not having visited each one, HorseAid can only generalize based on the ones we have visited (our last visit was to Canada by our HorseAid founders and volunteers in May and June of 1999, that included a side visit to Minnesota).
Pro-PMU people focus on the fact that the mares live out in 1,000+ acre pastures with their foals for up to six months of the year (on most PMU farms, mares are 175 - 185 days pregnant when the collection period begins. Estrogen production starts to peak between day 200 - 275 of pregnancy, then decreases to parturition. Mares are collected for a period of 160 - 180 days with the collection period usually being from October to April).
Anti-PMU people focus on the fact that the pregnant mares are kept tied up indoors for at least six months out of the year.
PMU farmers work to maintain a constant urine volume to meet both their quota requirements and the urine grade. Mares usually produce 90 - 100 gallons of urine throughout the collection season. On a daily basis, a pleasure horse type mare will produce about 0.5 - 0.6 gallon per day while a draft type mare will produce up to 0.75 gallon per day.
To produce Premarin, these mares are impregnated, fitted with a UCD and normally kept throughout their last six months of pregnancy in stalls just 8 feet long, by 3 1/2 feet wide, by 5 feet high! Just before foaling they are taken "off line" and allowed to foal in outside paddocks (90% of the mares will carry a foal full term). In most cases they are impregnated by natural cover (artificial insemination has been tried in the past to "streamline" the operation, but was discarded as too expensive).
Within six months of a successful breeding, they are returned to the PMU production line again (mares that do not become pregnant within a very short time, cannot be returned to the collection barns and will most likely be sent to auction or straight to the slaughterhouse).
Foals removed from the mare are sometimes fattened on feedlots and then sold for slaughter ("The Foals of August"). The ones not sent to feedlots go straight to the meat auctions, or are sold to resale agents. A small number are sold by foal rescue operations to mostly U.S. rescue organizations.

A filly foal has a less than one in 10 chance of not going to slaughter, a colt foal, less than one in 50!
As far as the use of catheters are concerned, PMU supporters say that they are no more (and in fact our research shows they were never used industry wide, if used at all) -- now "urine collection devices" (UCD's) are used. The UCD's are not very hygienic for the mares, since they allow the urine to soak the skin of the vulva, sometimes causing severe infections and painful lesions.
As for the actual living space they have, current PMU farm guidelines (strictly "voluntary" guidelines that have no consequences, and are not enforceable in any way) state that for horses weighing under 900 lbs. the width of the stalls should be no less than 3.5 feet in width; for horses over that weight, the width is increased to 5 feet.

This may well be large enough for the horses to lie down -- but so is a coffin for a person. Would you like to sleep in one? While pro-PMU people, PMU farm vets included, say that it's enough room to lie down and sleep, some have contradicted themselves in print by saying that "horses can sleep standing up anyway."
Horses can lock their legs and doze, but they must lie down for their essential 'deep sleep' period (in the wild and in pasture, horses lie down approximately three hours for every twenty-four). As for exercise, the guidelines leave that up to the discretion of the farm manager or farm employees.

HorseAid has carefully reviewed the guidelines with leading animal husbandry veterinarians and found them insufficient to protect either the wellness of the mares or the thousands of foals they produce. Our latest investigations reveal that even these inadequate guidelines are not being followed.
Pro-PMU people say, "It's 20 below zero out there in the winter, which is when the mares are confined. It's more humane to keep them inside." However, no indoor arenas or turn-out pens were observed in any of the farms we visited. There are an estimated 125 producing mares on each farm (averaged across all farms - 150, if you include reserves, "hires" and foaling/nursing mares), and to hire employees to hand-walk each one even once a day would not be cost-effective (and so, usually not done).
As a result, the already too-fat mares have problems with stocking up, soreness and hoof/wall separation. At almost EVERY farm we visited, there was some form of respiratory distress evident in the mares "on-line". (This quote comes from the website www.premarin.org, linked in the title)

It had been a couple of years since I went in for my pap smear, mammogram, and checkup. I had been wanting to change doctors for a while, so I found a new one. She is young and matter-of-fact, unlike my other doctor who was kind of whispery and not all that informative. As soon as she asked me about any problems in my sex life, I decided to be completely frank about it. "It hurts and no amount of lubrication makes it not hurt," I told her. Before the words HRT were out of her mouth, I told her that I would not, under any circumstances take any of the above substances. She understood completely, then she recommended a completely synthetic topical cream called Estrace, which is not made from horse's urine, to be applied via syringe every night for two weeks, and then twice a week thereafter.

I was horrified at the cost! Are you kidding me? $115+ change for a tube of something I wasn't sure would work? And to top it off, I took the prescription to the pharmacy where my daughter is a pharmacy tech. She wasn't working, but her young, male boss was called over to give me pertinent information. Gawd! I hoped he didn't remember who I am!

The doctor had warned me that it might be a little messy, so I made sure I had panti-liners on hand. Inserting it was no more difficult than inserting a tampon and the forewarned mess was fairly minimal.

How's it working? I know you want to know, so I'm gonna tell ya. I feel like I'm 30 again. The dryness is gone...completely gone. There is no need for Albolene. And it even has a little side benefit...I no longer leak. Yes, you heard me...no more leaking, even when I sneeze. And I'm only about halfway through the tube. To me (and my husband), it's worth every penny. I even think my mustache may be disappearing.

March is for birthdays

2011-03-18T08:01:00.002-04:00

It begins with a big boy turning eight years old. It's hard to fit 8 candles on a dinosaur cupcake. And, yes, he wanted his hair that short!

The dinosaurs were also party favors.

Nathan was born in Louisiana, and his birthday was the day before Mardi Gras....sooo, the dinosaurs fought their battle on a bed of purple, green and yellow-sugared vanilla frosting topping chocolate fudge cakes.

Best buddy Garrett

There were friends bearing gifts.

Reading circle buddy Tiara. They discuss books. :)

Matthew really enjoyed his cupcake.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Then there was birthday number two, or rather number five, for Lauren.

She wanted a kitten princess cake. I had to take cupcake surrounds (outside liners) shaped like crowns and put kitty stickers on them. There were also picks shaped like castles and those got the stickers also. She loved it, but immediately asked me where the brown and orange stripes were that she wanted. I'm sorry, Lauren, but I just couldn't do brown and orange with pink and green. Bad Grammy!

The family was there to help her celebrate with homemade pizza.

Her best cousin/friend Kaitlyn, who is always by her side at Grammy and Poppy's.

Gaige sporting his visor creation that was the party craft.

Nathan and his winning smile.

Matthew was much more interested in the cake than he was the pizza.

There were a few Disney and My Little Pony characters invited.

And she was a very happy and excited little girl.

We also have Gaige, Nathan and Kaitlyn's daddy's birthday today. And I have one of my very best friend's BD, two nephews and one niece. It's almost as many as May and October!

Shared Intelligence: American Painting and the Photograph

2011-03-02T12:08:00.006-05:00

The Columbus Museum of Art holds one of the premier art collections in the midwest. It isn't a large facility, but many major artists have places in the permanent collection. It had been ages since I last visited, and what better time to go but on a Sunday morning when admission is free.

One of the current exhibits is "Shared Intelligence: American Painting and the Photograph". It sounded intriguing. Do you take so many digital photos that, after a while, you no longer look at the composition? Do you no longer experience the moment, because you are too busy focusing and snapping and recording history? Shared Intelligence invites us to "counter this numbing ubiquity and resist the growing homogenization of the image".

Many modern artists use photographs as the basis for their paintings. It is fairly well known that Norman Rockwell planned his paintings with elaborately staged photos of each character represented. And, of course, Andy Warhol projected black and white photos directly onto the canvas and then added color with oils, but I had no idea that it went as far back as the mid-to-late 1800's. Such esteemed artists as Edgar Degas, Thomas Eakins, Fredric Remington, and Georgia O'Keefe worked from photographs. O'Keefe used mostly the work of her lover Alfred Stieglitz.

There is Robert Bechtle, whose paintings look so much like the photographs from which he worked that one has to look very closely to tell the difference. And Chuck Close who superimposes a grid over the photograph and, among other methods, uses his fingerprints to "paint" the picture. Their art is known as photorealism.

One of the most interesting things to me was the way that artists like Degas and Eakins composed their photographs exactly as they would the painting, with light being the most important factor. Eadweard Muybridge, whose pioneering work in animal locomotion photography, was essential in Remington getting a galloping horse "right".

More modern artists used photographs, but didn't want their paintings to look photographic. They are sometimes known as "magic realists", or the subversion of reality. Artists such as Henry Koerner created paintings of his family and his hometown in Austria from photos of the destruction after World War II. They are quite moving in their symbolism. Honoré Sharrer and Ben Shahn also are included in this category. (There is no Wiki page for Henry Koerner.)

An extreme use of photography in modern art is employed by Sherrie Levine, who uses highly pixelated photos of famous photographs and famous paintings to create her works. To me, they just look like blocks of color, but I've never considered myself to be visionary when it comes to modern art.

This was one of the better exhibits I have seen. I'm thinking of going again, because I'm sure I will learn more from the wealth of material covered there. I wasn't allowed to photograph the show, but I did take a few photos of the permanent collection. Well, 126 to be exact. Don't worry, I only chose the best ones. Whew!

Inside the grand salon, or Derby Room

Inside the hallway off the grand salon

One of the statuary halls

Dale Chihuly hand-blown glass sculpture

This fabulous painting, titled Sunflowers in the Windstorm, is by Emil Nolde, a German artist, whose works were declared "degenerate" by Adolph Hitler and was forbidden to paint. He painted in secret in his home in Seebüll, Germany, mostly working in watercolors, because the oils could be detected by the smell of the linseed oil. This work is in oils, because sometimes the subject just demanded that he risk his life for his art.

Boy with Cattle by Pablo Picasso, 1906

Schokko with Red Hat by Alexej Jawlensky,
1909 (Russian artist)
(So named because the model loved sipping hot schokolade [chocolate] while posing in the artist's studio.)

Weeping Willow by Claude Monet, 1918

The museum has several Monets in its permanent collection. This is a new acquisition from his later Giverny years, when he was losing his sight. I was fortunate to have seen an exhibit of his later works in the New Orleans Museum of Art in the mid-1990's. It was one of only two showings in the United States. His paintings from that period were dark and angry, reflecting his feelings about his encroaching blindness. Compare it to the following painting from his earlier years.

View of Bennecourt by Claude Monet, 1887

Houses at the Foot of a Cliff
(Saint-Valéry-sur-Somme), by Edgar Degas
about 1895-98

Degas, who is primarily known for his exquisite paintings of the ballet and its dancers, began painting sea and landscapes in the 1890's, "perhaps to spring them on an unsuspecting public". These works were painted mostly from photographs of the seaside resort town of Saint-Valéry-sur-Somme, where he spent much of his later years. The scene depicted here does not exist. It was created from several photographs.

Bathsheba by Artemisia Gentileschi, about 1636-37

Endeavor by Lino Tagliapietra

Lino Tagilapietra is considered one of the premiere glass blowers of Europe. In the 1970's, glass art was at a crossroads in the United States. The desire to create was there, but the artists didn't have the European technical knowledge available to them. Dale Chihuly brought Tagliapietra to the Pilchuck Glass School in Seattle to teach and mentor American glass artists. His impact on glass blowing is significant and immeasurable.

Autumn Leaves--Lake George, N.Y. by Georgia O'Keefe, 1924

The next three paintings are by George Bellows, a native of Columbus, Ohio, and who studied at Ohio State University. He later moved to New York City and is known for his realistic depictions of urban life in that city.

Summer Night, Riverside Drive by George Bellows , 1909

A Stag at Sharkey's by George Bellows, 1917
One of his many lithographs depicting fight scenes.

Polo at Lakewood by George Bellows, 1910
Bellows was an accomplished baseball player and often painted scenes of sporting events.

One of my favorite pieces of art is this: Ann Hamilton's "Lineament Ball". It is a continuous strip of sentences cut from, and still connected to in the book, Wallace Stevens' poem "The Planet on the Table". She actually cut the lines as a stage performance act and then preserved it as a work of art. Very cool.

If you would like to see the rest of my photos, please visit here.

It all started with the dishwasher

2011-02-24T16:09:00.000-05:00

For someone who grew up in the stone ages (nearly), I've had a lot of computer learning to do lately.

CHAPTER ONE

Back in September, 2010, my dishwasher started making a funny noise. A kind of groaning that made it sound as if it were in pain. I actually made an appointment at the time for a local repairman to come and look at it, but he didn't make it in time for me to pick up the grandkids from school, so I had to cancel. What with one thing and then another, I never got around to calling him again.

On Thanksgiving Day, with the dishwasher loaded to the gills with dirty dishes and silverware (thank goodness I decided to use paper plates for the very first time), it gave one last terrible groan when I turned it on, and died a horrible death. Everything that been carefully loaded had to be unloaded and washed and dried by hand, including all the stuff that didn't fit into it in the first place. I have to admit there was some brief cursing, and then tears. The next day, while everyone else was out braving Black Friday sales, I was at Kroger getting more paper plates and plastic utensils. Thank goodness there were no more big meals to prepare. We mainly ate leftovers.

After calling my handy repairman for a telephone conference regarding whether it would be practical to repair, he gave me the bad news. The cost of repairs would be approximately 1/3-1/2 the cost of a new machine. It wasn't a difficult decision to make. So, on Monday morning off I went to Home Depot to scope out a new dishwasher. David had told me (after nearly killing himself installing the dead dishwasher years ago) that he didn't care how much it cost for installation, but I lucked out; they had a special on appliance installation...only $49. Caught a break there! Choosing one wasn't too difficult. I went with a mid-level LG, computerized (what isn't these days), white to match the rest of my appliances.

When they pulled it up on the computer, it turned out there was a back-order time of three weeks. Okay, not too bad. With just David and me here, I could handle washing dishes for a few weeks, and it would be delivered two days before Christmas Eve...just in time for the Next Big Holiday. Two days before set delivery time, I received a phone call from LG explaining that it would not be delivered until January 18. It seems there was a shortage of Energy Star appliances due to the end-of-the-year rush to buy them before the Home Energy Tax Credit expired.

The only good thing I can say about washing dishes by hand is it makes arthritis feel better for a little while, but that benefit is offset slightly by the dishpan hands. Boy, am I spoiled.

The dishwasher was finally installed as promised. The computer is a little finicky. We have a well and sometimes our water pressure is a little low, so it reads as a "water leakage problem", or E1, on the computer panel readout. I just have to wait a few minutes for the water pressure to build back up and then restart it. Oh, and it plays a little electronic tune at the end of the cycle to let me know when it's done. Isn't that sweet?

CHAPTER TWO

For Christmas, David and I decided to buy a new computer as our old desktop was on its last legs, and slower than smoke in January. We had been wanting a laptop for quite a while, so we can take it with us when we start the retirement travel in the new "home on wheels". Everyone we know who has a MacBook raves about them, so we took the leap (they had a $200 instant rebate, because of the brand-new Air) and bought a MacBook Pro with the reassurance from the sales person and everyone who owns one that there is barely a learning curve. "It's so easy. You won't have any problems getting used to it." Well, maybe if you have a four-year degree in computer science. The damn thing didn't even come with a manual.

Thank goodness David is savvy in computer ways and set up the Wi-Fi converter and configured everything, or I would still be typing this on the old s l o w computer. I finally downloaded a copy of the tutorial to my documents, and figured out a few things on my own or by Googling, but there is still a lot to learn. I did have to get an external "wee little mousie" though. The different pressure of pressing and clicking on the internal one was killing the carpal tunnel in my right hand/arm. Now if I could just figure out how to get all those cool fonts and thingamajigs that come with Mac and iWorks into my blog posts, I would be all set. Well, I can, but only Mac users can see them. And there's no Mac version of Photoscape, although Picasa now has Piknik editing, which, if I would cough up the extra dough and buy the upgrades, is probably as good. Or if I would bite the bullet and purchase Photoshop. Can't afford it after buying the Mac. I've always liked going FAST, so I am more than thrilled with the speed of this baby.

CHAPTER THREE

My sewing machine, a Kenmore that David bought for me as a Christmas gift, is 35 years old. It has been a steady rock and has made countless items of clothing, home decor, crafty gifts, etc. My trusty sewing machine repairman/clock maker in Pittsburgh told me I should never get rid of it, but if I decided to do that, to please let him know first. It has all steel parts and they don't make them like that anymore. It isn't fancy, even though it was considered so at the time we bought it. About sixteen years ago, I added a serger machine as a companion. If you don't know about sergers, they are wonderful machines that overcast and cut the seam allowance to a professionally finished edge, all in one motion. The only drawback to them is the threading, which can be a real bitch. You have the upper looper, the lower looper, the right needle and the left needle.

A couple of weeks ago, when I started making the shopping bags, everything was going along smoothly, after having made two of them. All of sudden, my machine started acting crazy and I was ripping out more seams than I was putting in. There was some cursing, but no tears. I had to go to Dublin anyway, so I decided to go to Jo-Ann Fabrics to use a couple of coupons burning a hole in my pocket, and to get more fabric to make more shopping bags, even though I was frustrated with my machine. I happened to walk by the sewing machine department and the kindly, sweet sales lady lured me in with her damned sweet talk. This is what I bought.

The Husqevarna Viking Emerald 183. It is totally computerized (of course) and makes 80+ fancy stitches and makes professional-looking buttonholes, and all I have to do is touch a couple of buttons. Okey-dokey. It's complicated enough that one needs a class, which doesn't start until May. So, I'm on my own until then. The machine is completely foreign to me, from threading the needle to winding the bobbin and everything in-between. It has a speed governor on it (you know, because apparently it knows I like to go FAST), which confounds me to no end. It starts out s l o w and then a little faster until it reaches full speed. By the time that happens, I'm at the end of the seam. I'm sure once I learn to use it, I will love it as much as my old one. But, I saved the box, because the jury is still out.

CHAPTER FOUR

When I'm sewing I keep my ironing board and iron nearby, as all good seamstresses do, because pressing before and after you sew is half the battle. Well, I was pressing away when, suddenly, my 15-year-old Rowenta steam iron jumped from my hand and landed just the right way as to smash the whole back-end, which conveniently covers up all the iron inner workings. I still had some immediate pressing to do, so I duct-taped that sucker back together to finish what I was doing. So, on my next trip to Dublin (see above), after doing mega-research with Mr. Google, I decided to stick with the same brand, but one that is especially good for sewing, because it has a pointy end. It isn't computerized, thank goodness, but there is a learning curve attached to it. I got it on sale at Macy's, plus I had a discount of 10%. The steam it puts out would supply a two-person sauna, and I have to be careful not to steam the ends off my fingers when I'm pressing a seam with it. It also reminds me of lifting an anvil every time I pick it up, but, by golly, it gets rid of the wrinkles lickety-split. Just in time to iron the twenty shirts that have been piling up in the laundry room.

CHAPTER FIVE

KERPLUNK! SPLASH! Those are two sounds you don't want to hear when you are pulling up your pants in the powder room. I know that because I have heard them more than once. That made the third cell phone that I have drowned. Though the dunkings have been brief, it has been enough to scramble the inner workings of those necessary gadgets. One previous time, I was able to dry out my phone by taking everything apart and putting it in the toaster oven on the lowest setting for a little while, but it was a very simple one compared to my touch-screen.

So, off I headed to Verizon, thinking, "Now I can get the iPhone!" On arrival, I was informed that the waiting list was about a month long. I had plans to go out of town the next day for the weekend and didn't want to be traveling without my lifeline, so I agreed to give the LG Vortex a try...an Android...a Smartphone. Well, trying to learn its quirks, its ins and outs, its ups and downs, made me feel like a Dumb Robot. I could no longer type a text easily. I was used to the QWERTY slide-out keyboard, and I was getting pretty fast. The Vortex has a QWERTY, but it's all on the screen, and it is extremely sensitive. My daughter was cracking up every time she received a text from me. They were barely decipherable. And I thought the MacBook was difficult!

It has so many apps that I was just a "ball of confusion", and, of course, when you're standing in front of the nice young salesman who is explaining five hundred different "wonderful things you can do with your new Vortex", it all sounds so simple. Not. I had 14 days to return it for a different phone, and I nearly did about a hundred times. But each day I learned how to do something new with it. My fingers got a little less clumsy on the screen. I found out I can play Lexulous (think Scrabble) with my friends when I don't have a computer. It takes pretty good pictures and I can actually upload them directly to Facebook, which I couldn't do with my other phone. I can get Google GPS and give it voice commands for directions, and it will steer me around any accidents or traffic jams. All in all, it's a pretty jammin' phone. My sister Judy says when she goes into a store to buy a new cell phone or a new computer, she always tells the salesperson to give her the most complicated one they have. She says it keeps her brain from getting mushy. I think she's right. I can feel my brain getting firmer every day.

Postscript: The old phone actually survived after about a week of drying out, but don't tell David. It's the one he's going to get when he retires in November and he loses his company phone. Ssshhh.

And the winner is.......

2011-02-20T08:01:00.000-05:00

Cue drum roll, please (click)!

Oliag, from Picturing the Year, wins the shopping bag giveaway! Hooray for you, Gail! Just let me know which print you prefer and I will send it on its merry way to the East coast. Again, here are your choices.

Enjoy your trips to Trader Joe's, Gail!

My Funny Valentine

2011-02-14T00:30:00.024-05:00

Trader Joe, I love thee,
Let me count the ways.
I love thee for thy organic produce
With such lovely price tags.
I love the way thy nuts and dried fruits
Line up so nicely on the racks.
Thy cheese selection is top notch,
Especially dear asiago with Rosemary
And olive oil.

Doest thou know how well
Thy cookies go with thy organic milk?
Joe-Joes that delight, in sandwiches
Of gold, chocolate brown and crushed peppermint
brought out especially for the days of Christmas.

Ah, the love song in mine heart
For thy organic moisturizing shampoo
And conditioner that tames my unruly mane of silver.
O, wondrous market of delights,
How did I live so long without thee in my life?

Seriously, I'm not sure how I ever managed without Trader Joe's. Until we lived here in Central Ohio, I had never even heard of it. In fact, the first couple of years we lived here, I would drive past the shopping center where it is located and think "What the heck is Trader Joe's?" I figured it was one of those import shops loaded with lots of brass elephants and papa-san chairs from which nobody over forty years old can extricate themselves. Then a new acquaintance told me about the wonders within and convinced me to try it out the next time I went to the big city.

Oh. My. Goodness. I think I spent an entire hour or maybe more inside its walls, and this store is not very large. It has only four aisles, but there is a lot of goodness packed into that small space. I studied each and every item. At first I was a little leery, because Joe carries very few brand names. Most of the food and grocery items have the many variations of Joe's name, depending on the food nationality...Trader Jose, Trader Josef, Trader Giuseppe...you get the picture.

At that time, it was still difficult to find cookies and crackers without partially hydrogenated oils in them. At Joe's place, nothing has that artery-clogging ingredient listed on the ingredient panel.

About half of the produce is organic and reasonably priced. The cheeses are wonderful, both domestic and imported. This evening I used a wonderful fontina in a creamy polenta. I paid $2.95 for an 8-ounce hunk, about half what you would pay in another store.

The wine and beer selections rival larger stores when you consider that at least one-fourth of the store is dedicated space for those items. Two-buck Chuck is famously sold there. People carry it out by the box. It sells for a higher price in Ohio because of state minimum pricing regulations, so it's more like Three-eighty-nine Chuck.

The clerks are outgoing and friendly (but not pushy) and always eager to assist if you can't find something, or when they're offering you a taste of the featured items. You can't miss them, they're all over the place wearing tropical shirts. I've heard that none of them ever leaves if they get a job there. Trader Joe's has one of the best ratings for treating their employees with respect and paying them a decent wage. In 2009 they ranked second in MSN Money's "Top Ten Companies That Treat You Right" list. I would apply for a job there if I lived closer.

So, here is a baker's dozen of the things I buy at TJ's on a regular basis. I almost never get out of the store spending less than $100. And I take my own Trader Joe's bags. They reward you for that with a $25.00 gift card drawing each month. Even though I've never won, it's still nice to think I might someday.

1. Organic canned beans, especially garbanzo, kidney, and black beans. I use a lot of them.

2. The barbecue sauce is spiced just right and contains NO high fructose corn syrup. Oh, excuse me, corn sugar. That's what the corn industry is calling it now. I don't think I'm fooled.

3. I love the balsamic vinaigrette. It is the best non-homemade I've had. I use it for marinating chicken, too.

4. Savory Broth concentrates. These come in veggie, chicken, beef and, during the holidays, turkey. One single packet + one cup hot water = one cup broth. They're perfect for when you just need a cup or two of broth and they don't take up much space on the shelf. If I'm making soup I add them directly to the pan to give a boost of flavor.

5. The microwave popcorn comes in one-serving bags. I don't know about you, but if I pop one of those 2 1/2 serving bags, I eat the whole thing. I love popcorn.

6. The dried herbs and spices actually look and smell like their fresh counterparts. They're the best ones I've ever used and they're cheap, cheap, cheap. I use the "21-Seasoning Salute" on a lot of things. It's got a little bit of everything in there.

7. Organic Superfruit Spread. This is the best jarred fruit spread I've ever eaten. It tastes like the real thing. I use it all the time on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. The grandkids don't even know they aren't eating any sugar in their "jelly".

8. The frozen organic vegetables are about $2.00 for a 16-ounce bag. Try finding that price anywhere else.

9. There are too many cookies to name, and they're all wonderful. My favorites are: almond windmills, vanilla meringues, triple ginger cookies, vanilla and chocolate Joe-Joe's (think Oreos), and the piece de resistance...dark chocolate double-dipped chocolate Joe-Joe's. I seriously cannot open a container of these while I'm alone. I did that the first time I brought them home and before I knew it, half of them were gone. And they are NOT low-cal! I won't even buy them anymore unless I know I will be having company the minute I get home.

10. The frozen convenience foods taste like you made them in your kitchen. My recent discovery is the gnocchi in gorgonzola sauce and the gnocchi in tomato sauce and mozzarella. The gnocchi tastes just like homemade.

11. Even the pets get treats from TJ's. Lucy loves the organic assorted flavor dog treats. They smell so good that I've been tempted to try one myself. The kitties are crazy for the holistic feline treats shaped like little fishes. They get theirs when I let Lucy out for the last time in the evening. As soon as they hear me call for her, three of them come running to the pantry door to line up. I have to take Cricket's snack to her...she is the Queen, after all.

12. The dish soap is so mild I use it for hand soap in the bathroom and kitchen and it smells divine with lavender and tea tree oil. It contains nothing harmful to the environment and, like all of their cleaning products, soaps, facial and body products, has never been tested on animals and contains no animal by-products. I also use the moisturizing shampoo and conditioner. It's so user friendly that you can open your eyes while you wash your hair or your youngster's and it will never sting. I also use the body moisturizer, oatmeal and honey bar soap, laundry detergent, shave cream in a tube so it doesn't rust in the shower. Well, you can see why I always have such a long receipt.

13. I get all my coffee and some of my teas there. It's fun trying all the different types without spending a fortune. I haven't been disappointed yet.

Before you leave, I have a little surprise for my loyal readers...a Valentine giveaway made by moi. A nice shopping bag to carry home your grocery purchases from Trader Joe's or Safeway or Kroger or Meijer or Giant Eagle or Albertson's........

You may choose the color you prefer. They have reinforced seams and will hold a big load. The blue and green one has five regular cereal boxes with room at the top for a large loaf of bread.

Just leave a comment and I'll throw your name into a hat. And while you're commenting, you can listen to Michelle Pfeiffer sing "My Funny Valentine" in "The Fabulous Baker Boys".

It was rumored that Jeff Bridges did his own playing in the movie, but it was actually jazz great Dave Grusin, who also composed the score, which won the Academy Award for Best Original Score. He also arranged all the music for the movie. If you've never seen it, do yourself a favor and watch it with your honey. If there isn't presently a honey, watch it anyway, it will spice up your Valentine's Day.

Laura Ingalls Wilder and Me and The Long Winter

2011-02-02T11:54:00.000-05:00

"Laura felt a warmth inside her. It was very small, but it was strong. It was steady, like a tiny light in the dark, and it burned very low but no winds would make it flicker because it would not give up."

— Laura Ingalls Wilder (The Long Winter)

When I was growing up, I read a lot. No, I mean I actually read everything I could get my hands on. I was particularly fond of Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Little House on the Prairie series. I felt an affinity with Laura and her older sister Mary. I was a little bit like both of them. Laura’s tomboyish ways and love of mischief fit me to a tee, but I also loved the bookish, quietness of Mary.

My favorite book in the series was The Long Winter, but the hardships that Laura and her family and the whole town faced during the terrible blizzard of 1880 didn’t resonate with me from personal experience. I had never come up against anything remotely comparable to those tough times. The closest I came was living on the farm with no inside bathroom and only cold running water that had to be heated on top of the stove. The farmhouse had no insulation and was cold and drafty and we had no central heat, only a coal stove in the kitchen whose heat rose through an open grate to the bedroom above it. There was also a coal stove in the living room and one in my parents’ bedroom. It was lucky for us that my dad hauled coal for a living. I still love to catch a whiff of that acrid smell coming from a chimney, although it is becoming more rare these days.

Our farm lay snuggled between hills and we didn’t get the bitter, driving winds of the prairie. Winds that were so harsh, at times they drove the heavy snow into drifts as high as the top floors of the houses. I don’t remember ever running out of food, because the supply train couldn’t reach town through the ice and snow. We always had a cellar full of canned foods that my mother and sisters diligently put by all summer long. Mom even canned meat when we didn’t have a freezer. I’m sure Caroline Ingalls did those same things, but it was a long, long winter on the prairie, with many mouths to feed.

Where we live now, in west central Ohio, is on the far eastern edge of the prairie. It is flat. Our house sits across the road from large open soybean fields and we often get gale force winds that drift the snow in waves across the length of our driveway. Luckily our house is also surrounded by trees that break the force of the wind. Having trees was number one on the must-have list when we moved here almost eleven years ago. The majority of houses that were built here in the last twenty years sit in what once were soybean and corn fields, on five-acre grassed lots. I can just imagine how alone and desolate I would feel living in one of those exposed houses when we’re having a storm of this week’s magnitude, cutting off power and contact with the outside world, even for just a little while.

I had planned to write a post last week on how I am always complaining about winter and how much I hate it. Then I read an article in our Columbus Dispatch by John Switzer, a regular columnist who writes about birds and nature and weather. In the previous week’s column he had written that, only six weeks into winter, he was tired of it, and was hoping for an early spring. He received an email from a disgruntled reader:

"Winter has just started officially, and you are already wishing it over.

"I think your blood is getting thinner with old age. Summer drags on for four or five months, with uncomfortable temperatures in the 80s and 90s, occurring May to October.

"At best, we get two or three months of consistent cold temperatures. For some reason, snow scares the hell out of most central Ohioans. The average snowfall of 30 inches is virtually nothing.

"In case you can’t tell, I love the cold and snow; grew up in the snow belt of Cleveland and miss having real winters."

So, that started me thinking. Without the freezing days of winter, there would be no killing off of pests such as fleas and ticks. We would have no purpose for all the downed trees made into firewood and carefully stacked inside the large barn. And, there would be no maple syrup, which brings me to one of my favorite parts of The Long Winter.

When Almanzo and his brother are nearly out of food, the only thing left for them to cook is flapjacks made with water and buckwheat. They didn’t have any molasses left, which was the most-used sweetener in those days, so they used something like today's brown sugar between the layers of flapjacks. Those pancakes sounded so delicious with the sugar melting a little with the heat, but still retaining a bit of the crunch. My mouth would water at the picture in my mind. There was even an illustration showing the steam rising from those stacks of golden flapjacks.

When I was old enough to be trusted in the kitchen by myself (by this time, we had moved to town and had a more modern house), I decided to finally experience what Almanzo and his brother had so long ago. I didn’t have buckwheat, so I used self-rising flour, which is what Mom always used. I fried those pancakes in Crisco in an iron skillet until they were golden brown and crispy on the edges, slathered them with lots of butter (I know, not technically correct either), and sprinkled a good layer of brown sugar between each layer. What a disappointment! Oh, they were good. How could they not be with the half pound of butter? I suppose I wasn’t hungry enough, but the brown sugar just didn’t cut it for me. And in those days, I didn’t even know what maple syrup was. The only syrup we ever had was simple sugar syrup that Mom made in a saucepan. Two parts sugar to one part water; boiled. But I much preferred that simple syrup over brown sugar.

Thankfully, my disappointment didn’t ruin my love for Laura Ingalls Wilder’s books and I would read them many times throughout my childhood and even as an adult to my own children.

This brings to mind one winter when our children were young and we lived in the country with rural electric co-op service. We had an ice storm such as we had this week, with one-half inch of ice coating the ancient power lines and the surrounding trees. On top of that, Mother Nature decided to dump twenty inches of heavy, wet snow. Many thousands of residents were without power for a week or more, with temperatures falling into the single digits. We also didn’t have water, even though we had county water lines. The pumping station needed electricity to get the water to us. David had to take five-gallon buckets to the firehouse to fill with water to flush the toilets and also containers for drinking water. Our house survived freezing pipes because we had the foresight to install a cast iron wood-burning stove the first winter after we bought the house. It was a necessity. We couldn’t afford to heat with electricity.

I also used that wood-burning stove to cook our meals that week. To this day, my kids still talk about the sausage and “the best pancakes EVER” that I made in an iron skillet on top of that stove. They were the best pancakes ever. And we topped them with "Mom’s" syrup.

From Mr. Spitzer's column: The name of the February moon is “snow moon” and it will be full on the 18th. The Potawatomi Indians called it the “baby bear moon”, because that is when the mother bears gave birth to their young. Other Indians called it the “hunger moon”.

Worst. Movie. Accents.

2011-01-31T07:47:00.002-05:00

If it's Monday, it must be The Bumbles' Monday Movie Meme. This week Molly is handing down sentences to the criminals of bad movie accents, particularly her home state's capitol/capital offenses, namely Boston. She invited us to give our take on accents you love to hate.

1. Kevin Costner makes everyone's list for his atrocious, in-and-out British accent in 'Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves'. Where was the dialect coach for this film? Cringe factor: 5 stars, out of 5.

2. James van der Beek, of Dawson's Creek fame, slaughtered the unique Texas accent when he starred in 'Varsity Blues'. Cringe factor: 4 stars, out of 5.

3. Mickey Rooney embarrassed himself and outraged every Japanese person living here, and abroad, when he attempted to sound legit as a Japanese neighbor of Holly Golightly's in 'Breakfast at Tiffany's'. Cringe factor: 4 stars, out of 5.

4. Brad Pitt has attempted several foreign accents, but his tongue-in-cheek portrayal of a fake WWII Nazi officer in 'Inglourious Basterds' was hilarious. This is a case of when bad accents are good. Cringe factor: 5 stars, out of 5 (but in a good way).

5. Nicole Kidman should stick to her usual non-descript American accents, because her southern accent in 'Cold Mountain' didn't quite make it. It was one of those all-purpose, one-size-fits-all, impossible-to-place dialects of the South that clueless actors seem to think will fit the bill. (Renee Zellwegger, on the other hand, got the Tennessee mountain accent perfectly.) Cringe factor: 2 stars, out of 5.

6. Dennis Quaid in 'The Big Easy'. Now, I loves me some hunky Dennis Quaid, even though he cheated on perky and sweet Meg Ryan and ruined her face by making her think she wasn't young enough anymore and causing her to get "duck lips", but whatever. I'm sorry, Dennis, but throwing a cher on the end of every sentence does not a N'awlins accent make. Nobody, and I mean nobody but a New Orleans native, nails that accent. It's a combination heavily influenced by French, of course, but also Spanish, German, Irish, West Indies, and Brooklyn. What? Brooklyn? The legend goes that when the yellow fever epidemic of 1796 wiped out almost all of the nuns in those parishes, nuns from Brooklyn and surrounding areas were imported to New Orleans to teach in the Catholic schools, thus adding to the unique flavor that is the New Orleans accent. If you haven't heard it first-hand, it's impossible to explain. You'll just have to go there. Cringe factor: 4 stars, out of 5. (I'm being lenient since I think Dennis is really, really sexy.)

Addendum: Sandy just informed me that it was the other way around with Dennis and ~~the slut~~ Meg...her with Russell Crowe. Geez, how did I forget about that? Well, as I said to Sandy, he was probably thinking about it...with me, of course. Meg just got around to it first. So that negates the whole reasoning for the "duck lips". Why, Meg, why did you do it?!!

Saturday Serenade

2011-01-22T00:13:00.003-05:00

Margaret Whiting died on January 10 at the age of 86. Her rendition of 'Moonlight in Vermont' is one of my favorite songs of all time. Probably because I fell in love with Vermont the first time I visited that beautiful state.

Fresh Air's Terry Gross interviewed Ms. Whiting in 1988. You can read the interview in it's entirety here. Or you can listen to the podcast in which she sings a few of her famous songs.

Comments are not required on this post...it is for your listening and learning pleasure only.

Dear Haji

2011-01-19T13:15:00.002-05:00

I received this lovely message from my dear, dear friend Haji this morning. I thought you might enjoy reading it as well.

DEAR SIR / MADAM PLEASE READ.

IT IS MY SINCERE PLEASURE AT THIS MOMENT TO EXHIBIT MY TOTAL TRUST BESTOWED ON YOU IN ACCORDANCE TO MY PROPOSED PARTNERSHIP RELATIONSHIP WITH YOU OF WHICH I AM FULLY CONVINCED THAT YOU WILL REALLY WELCOME MY PARTNERSHIP WITH YOU IN THIS TRANSACTION BEING VERY SCEPTICAL ABOUT DEALING WITH AFRICANS IN SUCH TRANSACTION, RANGING FROM THE HEIGHT OF FRAUDULENT ACTIVITIES ENCOMPASSING THE AFRICAN COMMUNITIES. NOW IT IS MY GODLY NURSED INTENTION TO PROVE MYSELF TO YOU THAT I AM VERY MUCH DIFFERENT FROM OTHERS WHICH YOU MUST HAVE COME ACROSS.

I HEREBY ATTESTED MY ACCEPTED CONCLUSION TO TAKE UPON MY GENTLE SELF AND TO JOIN HANDS TOGETHER TO COVER ANY UNFORESEEN EXPENSES THAT MAY BE INVOLVED HERE TILL THE FINAL TRANSFER OF THE FUNDS TO OUR CORRESPONDENT BANK BEFORE ITS FINAL REMITTANCE INTO YOUR NOMINATED BANK ACCOUNT.

THIS IS TO CONVINCE YOU OF MY SPIRITED ACCEPTANCE TO HAVE YOU AS A CONFIDANT IN A BUSINESS OF THIS MAGNITUDE KNOWING THAT YOU WILL NOT TURN ME DOWN COME-WHAT-MAY, REGARDING THIS CLAIM/TRANSFER TO BOOST MY PLANNED ESTABLISHMENT OF A FUNDING COMPANY OUT OF AFRICA. IN OTHER WORDS, I WENT INTO A MORE CONCRETE ARRANGEMENT IN COURIERING TO YOUR DOORSTEP, A TOTAL OF US$10.5MILLION DOLLARS THROUGH INTER-BANK TRANSFER. THIS AMOUNT OF MONEY BELONGS TO OUR DECEASED CUSTOMER AS THERE WERE NO CLAIMS OVER THIS DORMANT BALANCE ACCOUNT FOR A PERIOD OF MANY YEARS.

THEREFORE, I AM IN NEED OF A RELIABLE PARTNER THAT WOULD COME FORWARD TO PUT CLAIMS OVER THE FUNDS FOR ITS TRANSFER INTO HIS/HER FOREIGN BANK ACCOUNT. THIS IS BECAUSE I AM THE DIRECTOR OF FOREIGN REMITTANCE DEPARTMENT OF MY BANK FOR SECURES TRANSFER OF THESE FUNDS WITHOUT ANY HINDRANCES.

ALL I AM EXPECTING FROM YOU, AS A MATTER OF GREATEST URGENCY AND IMPORTANCE IS YOUR SINCERITY AND HONESTY AS I HAVE SOME OF THE NEEDED LEGAL DOCUMENTS TO PROVE THAT THIS BUSINESS IS LAWFUL FOR ITS ONWARD REMITTANCE. I URGENTLY WANT YOU TO SEND ALL THE DEMANDED PERSONAL INFORMATION’S BELOW TO ME AS SOON AS YOU RECEIVE THIS PROPOSAL IN ORDER TO SHOW YOUR READINESS AND WILLINGNESS IN THIS PROPOSED BUSINESS.

BELOW ARE THE NEEDED PERSONAL INFORMATIONS

1) YOUR FULL NAME.......................... ...

2) YOUR AGE.......................................

3) YOUR MOBILE AND HOME PHONE NUMBER…………..

4) YOUR FAX NUMBER……………….....

5) YOUR COUNTRY OF NATIONALITY………………..............

6) YOUR OCCUPATION.................... ........

7) SEX................................................

8) ALTERNATIVE E-MAIL ADDRESS /........................

FINALLY, YOU HAVE TO KEEP THIS PROPOSAL CONFIDENTIAL AND SECRET FROM YOUR RELATIONS, PARTNERS AND COLLEAGUES FOR OUR SUCCESS IN THIS TRANSACTION AS THE BASIS OF THIS BUSINESS IS SECRECY. I PROMISE YOU THAT I WOULD PROTECT YOUR PERSONAL INTEREST AS THIS BUSINESS IS 100% RISK-FREE.THEREFORE, I WANT YOU TO EXPRESS YOUR INTEREST TO ENGAGE IN THIS BUSINESS WITH ME BECAUSE YOUR SHARE IS 40% OF THE FUNDS IN QUESTION SO THAT I CAN SEND TO YOU THE TEXT OF APPLICATION WHICH YOU HAVE TO FILL AND SEND TO THE E-MAIL ADDRESS OF THE BANK.

I LOOK FORWARD FOR YOUR IMMEDIATE POSITIVE RESPONSE.

MY REGARDS TO YOU AND THE FAMILY,

HAJI AZIZS YUSUF

TELE 0022678430122

My dear Haji,

I am responding to your most earnest and pleasurable message in a manner most suited to your very interesting inquiry. I do not often have the bountiful fortune to receive such golden opportunities as I have not at this time been to your most lovely continent to acquire engaging friends such as yourself. I do hope the desert sands are not playing havoc with the keys of your computer, which would hamper our very soon business partnership and robbing me of the chance for depositing the awaiting funds totaling $10.5 million USD. What a useful partnership this will be for me and for you as well.

Unfortunately, at this time, my bank account has been closed due to lack of funds. But I have a most reliable plan at my disposal. If you would please to send me a Visa debit card preloaded with $1,000 USD, I would then be allowed to reopen my languishing account and our business transaction could commence forthwith, with much pleasuring. Please keep this a secret from your many reliable business colleagues, because once they hear of this worthy plan, they too will be falling over themselves to send many Visa debit cards to me, come what may. My bank might then become suspicious of much recent activities going forth.

With your being director of a very trustworthy establishment, you will understand my godly nursed need for secrecy, and will not even whisper of it to your lovely wife, even in the throes of passion, which will surely follow such good news.

As you demanded, I will supply all the needed informations in a message to follow at a later time today. I understand the urgency with which this valuable informations is required, but first I must meet with my attorney to be sure I am not violating any pesky international banking laws. You will be most understanding of this maneuver, I am sure.

In closing, I would like to praise you on your grasp of the English language. Your lessons are coming along quite well and soon you will be able to enter any American establishment and make yourself well understood. Please to give my utmost regards to your lovely wife and handsome children.

Your newest partner,
Susan

Dis-organized? Who, me?

2011-01-16T19:00:00.000-05:00

It seems everywhere you look these days, every magazine, every helpful homekeeping website has an article on organizing. "How to de-clutter your life", "Organize your_________in 30 minutes". There are even websites devoted to teaching you organizational skills (and they will gladly sell you the containers and paraphernalia required to employ them). I certainly need to read a few of these guidelines...maybe post them on the wall as a constant reminder. While I'm not yet in the "Hoarding: Buried Alive" category, I could envision a distant future where my loved ones might have to pull my body from a mountain of books I've acquired from Goodwill, or stacks and stacks of magazines I've kept for future reference on remodeling/gardening/cooking/you-name-it. Well, at least all the cats I will have acquired by that time will keep me warm until someone finds me.

One of the main areas needing organizing are my utensil drawers in the kitchen (thank you, Bella, for the idea!). I loved the quote she shared from a 7-year-old boy, "That's the most fantastic drawer in the whole world!" My grandkids happen to find mine pretty fascinating, too. They're always borrowing items from them to use as fight weapons, or sometimes even pretend cooking. It's always fun trying to locate said items afterward.

Yes, I admit it, I have an addiction to kitchen things...cookware, pretty dishes, gadgets, widgets, tools...anything you can use to chop, dice, slice, stir, beat...It is dangerous for me to go into Williams-Sonoma, Crate and Barrel, kitchen outlet stores, or my very favorite, Homegoods. Clearance racks and aisles beckon me, calling "Lookeee, you know you neeeeeed it!" And that's not even counting the online possibilities and Goodwill.

(Actually, that's 9 turners. I forgot about the specialty ones in the drawer.)

I've even given some of the stuff away, and there's still too much, or at least it would seem so. The thing is, I use most of this stuff...well, maybe not nine spatulas all at once, but several might be in the dishwasher at any given time, and different types have different purposes.

Okay, so I'm not the most organized person in the world, but hopefully not the most dis-organized. I know I should get rid of some this stuff. I just have to figure out what. But it won't be these things:

Ten Things I Must Have in My Kitchen

My Santoku chefs knives and the Wüsthof paring knife that fits my hand perfectly.
The Cuisinart hand blender with mini-food processor attachment, which is perfect for making a cup of bread crumbs or chopping fresh herbs.
The electric tea kettle.
The huge bent-handled stirring spoon, which can also be used as a ladle.
The different sized ice cream scoops, which make perfectly sized cookies.
Microplane zesters/graters
The dough cutter/scooper of chopped veggies.
The convection toaster oven.
The iron skillets.
Whisks. A couple of large ones for mixing batters and sifting dry ingredients, and a little one for mixing slurries in a measuring cup.

I probably should have made this a list of twenty or thirty things, but then that would just be crazy.

The Housekeeper and the Professor: a book review

2011-01-03T21:38:00.001-05:00

Mathematics, baseball, friendship....three uncommon denominators which come together to make the beautiful story of The Housekeeper and the Professor by Yoko Ogawa. This book was sent to me by Maggie of Stepping Out with Red Shoes On in exchange for a book that I sent to her during my big book giveaway.

From page one, I was captivated by this seemingly simple, but very complex story. The Housekeeper is a young single mother who never knew her own father (there are no names used in this book, save the nickname given to her son). Her son's father has never accepted responsibility for him. She works for a housekeeping agency, and is the ninth housekeeper who has been assigned to clean and cook for a semi-disabled former mathematics professor. She is given strict orders by the man's sister-in-law, in whose guest house he lives, to never bother her by coming to the door of the main house. She is to do her work and collect her paycheck and not get involved. However, there is one small catch; the Professor, because of a head injury he sustained in a car wreck in 1975, cannot retain any recent memory longer than 80 minutes. He keeps notes pinned to his suit jacket to remind himself of things. One such note that he affixes to the jacket after meeting the Housekeeper reads "This is the new housekeeper" and alongside he draws a rough sketch of her. Another reads "My memory lasts only eighty minutes." Even he has to be reminded of this fact.

Every day is the same. She comes in at 11:00 to cook his lunch, and she has to reintroduce herself each and every time, and again after every eighty minutes, if she has been out of his sight. He stays in his study, solving extreme math problems for a professional magazine, for which he has won many cash prizes and that don't matter to him. She cleans his house and prepares his evening meal and his breakfast for the next morning and leaves for home by 7:00 to be with her ten-year-old son. The professor finds significance in every number. At their first meeting, he asks the Housekeeper what size shoe she wears. When she tells him twenty-four centimeters, he tells her that it is a "sturdy number", the factorial of four. He goes on to ask her telephone number, he replies that it is the total number of primes between one and one hundred million. A mathematical genius.

When the Professor finds out by accident that the Housekeeper has a son, he becomes distressed that the boy arrives home from school to an empty apartment and has to be alone until she gets home at 8:00. He insists that she have him come to the house after that. Thus begins a sweet and tender relationship between the mother, the old man, and the boy, who he gives the name of Root, "because the square root is a generous sign, it gives shelter to all the numbers."

Root absolutely loves, and lives for, baseball. The Professor happens to love baseball also, but from the perspective of mathematical equations. In fact, he has never even seen a game. His favorite baseball player is Yutaka Enatsu, who played for the Hanshin Tigers when the Professor's memory stopped in 1975. Root persuades the Professor to have the ancient radio in the house repaired so they can listen to the games in the evenings; but to win this great prize, the Professor assigns Root a complex math problem to solve. Root is able, with his mother's help, to come up with the solution, and the radio is fixed.

Root is very protective of the Professor's memory. Every time they listen to a game, the Professor asks if Enatsu will be pitching. The first time this happens, Root tells him the truth. The Professor is so distressed that Root vows never to let it happen again. He concocts elaborate schemes to keep the Professor from finding out that Enatsu no longer pitches for the Tigers; and, in fact, has retired.

I don't want to reveal too much of the story, but there is a real baseball game, an injury, an illness, a separation, and a reunion. Along the way there are discoveries to make, math to learn, and a sweet surprise that brought me to tears, not the only time I found myself in tears throughout this lovely story. I was never more regretful about not learning higher math when I was in school. But, in a way, the Professor became my teacher, too.

"He treated Root exactly as he treated prime numbers. For him, primes were the base on which all other natural numbers relied; and children were the foundation of everything worthwhile in the adult world."

Ogawa, Yoko. The Housekeeper and the Professor; translated by Stephen Snyder; copyright, 2003. Picador, New York. 180 pages.

5 out of 5 stars (and I don't assign this lightly, with To Kill a Mockingbird being my standard)

Ten things

2010-12-30T09:15:00.001-05:00

Now that 2010, and the first decade of the millenium, is almost over, I thought it was time for you to learn a few things about me. So, here are ten things that most of you don’t know. Don't you just hate this kind of post?

1. When I was a senior in high school, our class took our Senior Trip to Washington, D.C. and to New York City! We spent three days in NYC. Now this was equivalent to taking 66 foreign students there and setting them loose on the streets of Manhattan without a map or an interpreter. Oh sure, we did the obligatory tours on buses to Chinatown, the Statue of Liberty (well, that was on the Staten Island Ferry, of course), the Bowery of all places, and many other tourist destinations, but we also had our free time. For most of us, including myself, this was the first time we had stepped more than a few hundred feet outside our rural county. We saw a Broadway musical, “Promises, Promises”, which is now enjoying a successful revival. We ate some of our meals in an automat that was just around the corner from our hotel. Automats are interesting places. Do you remember the episode of ‘That Girl’ with Marlo Thomas, when she goes to the automat and has very little money to buy lunch? She ends up getting a bowl of hot water and mixing ketchup into it to make tomato soup. I’m telling you, I knew the feeling. I was a poor girl in the big city. Some of us girls got hit on by a street person while we we were waiting in line. We also got to watch a guy peeing on the street while we were walking back from the movie theater. The movie that the group of us saw was ‘Five Easy Pieces’ with Jack Nicholson. A very interesting film for a bunch of seventeen-year-old hicks to see when they’re out on the town. There were some strange proximity matchups between the guys and the girls while we were on the trip. Some lasted, most didn’t. I still have the lacquered, mother-of-pearl inlaid chopsticks I bought as a souvenir in Chinatown.

2. I didn’t go to college. Well, one semester, but that doesn’t really count, does it? It is my lifelong embarrassment and regret. I was valedictorian of my class, for goodness sake. I had a full-tuition/work-study scholarship to the local branch of Ohio University. So, here’s what went wrong. I coasted through high school. Our school wasn’t known for it’s tough academics. A couple of our teachers were as old as Methuselah and about as lively. In the late ‘60s, early 70’s, most girls in rural areas weren’t encouraged to see college in their futures, and if they were so inclined, it was usually to seek out a career in a “woman’s” field; i.e., teaching or nursing. Those are two very noble professions for which I probably was strongly suited. Unfortunately, I chose to take courses in high school more suited to office Christmas parties. Typing, shorthand, bookkeeping, business math (algebra was not a required subject in those days); all of which are handy-dandy tools for living (well, shorthand, maybe not), but not so dandy for college preparation. Combine this non-preparation with a personality flaw of perfectionism and this one did not do well under college professorial tutelage...mean, critical, superiority-complexed college professors. I melted into a heap of insecurity-ridden Susan parts. So what does one do when one decides she can no longer hack it under the scrutiny of said professors? Why, she gets married, of course. Planning a wedding is so much more satisfying and gratifying than sitting in a classroom listening to a stuffy professor droning on and on, blah, blah, blah. I created my own post-secondary education by being a wife and raising children. I can hear you all out there asking yourselves “Well, why didn’t she go back to school after the children got a little older?” Good question. It was just never convenient. We either lived too far away from a school, or there was some godawful stuff going on in our lives that kept me away. Or gave me an excuse...however you prefer to look at it. That peculiar “fear of failure” has never quite left me, you see.

3. When I talk to myself (and don’t try to tell me you don’t do it), I practice my British accent. Okay, I know that’s weird, but have you tried it? It’s quite fun and entertaining and I’ve gotten pretty good at it. Watch out, Meryl Streep, I’m hot on your heels. Maybe there’s an Oscar in my future. I could play the Queen Mother someday. In her dowager years.

4. I’m a control freak. My husband says so, just ask him. It’s why I’m always so exhausted during Christmas, Thanksgiving, birthdays, etc. Apparently, I think I’m the only one who can “do it right”. It’s my way or the highway. I have to do it all. I’m not quite as bad as I used to be. I do let the grandchildren help me bake sometimes. I let David mash the potatoes for big dinners, and he does a pretty good job of it. Well, I think this year’s holidays finally cured me of this syndrome. I nearly didn’t survive the cooking, the cleaning, the baking, the decorating, the shopping and gift wrapping, and so on and so forth. Next year I’m having a rebirth and assigning everyone a dish to bring, a chore to do, a decoration to put up. I. Just. Can’t. Do. It. All.

5. I didn’t learn to drive until I was eighteen. The year I turned sixteen Ohio changed it’s teen driving laws to require completion of a driver education course before inflicting terror in the hearts and minds of our neighbors and their properties. There was only one driver education course available to us and that was in our high school. There was one class a semester and guess who got to take it first...seniors, of course. That meant my classmates and I had to wait it out until our senior year. Oh, how we moaned and groaned and complained that it just wasn’t FAIR! I think the State of Ohio knew what it was doing when it made that law. I was green as a gourd the first time I slipped behind the wheel. Why, I had never even driven a lawn mower! Going 25 miles per hour was like driving the Indianapolis Speedway! It didn’t help that we had a driver instructor/basketball coach/English teacher sitting in the middle of the bench seat of the big boat in which we learned. He was quite a “ladies” man and would sing romantic songs in our ears as we navigated the country byways hither and yon. And, of course, the shorter the skirt, the better the grade. Nowadays he would lose his teaching license for those kinds of antics, but at that time it was accepted behavior. Or, we were too stupid and naive to know we should report him. I got an A in English, too.

6. I’ve written stories and poetry since I was in high school. But I always tore them up, because they were never "good enough". It wasn’t until I started this blog that I was able to show my writing to anyone, and it helped that, at the time, you were complete strangers. I still have shivers of apprehension each time I sit in front of the computer and hit the publish button. Will they like it? Will they think it’s stupid? At least I don’t have to see your faces when you’re reading my words. There’s comfort in that.

7. I was the second woman to use natural childbirth and have daddy in the delivery room in our small town hospital. It just wasn’t done, y’know. I had gone to a neighboring city with three times the population, thinking that doctors there would be open-minded about Lamaze and a father wanting to participate in his child’s birth, but I was flatly told “No way”. It was 1975 and our edge-of-Appalachia communities were about five years behind the times. Finally, through one of David’s co-workers whose wife had been numero uno, I found Dr. Teddy Bear, who was not reluctant in the least and had told the hospital board that they could go hang when they put down their collective foot.

8. Following the successful birth of our first child, I was determined to breast-feed. I had read the few books available at that time cover to cover until I had nearly every word memorized. I had toughened my nipples (ouch!) and prepared in every way to nourish my baby as God intended. Well, unfortunately, God put a little stumbling block in my path to sainthood, bearing the name of Jamie, my errant niece who had been kicked out of her home. We reluctantly took her in a few months before the impending birth. We soon found out there was good reason for her banishment. She made our lives a living hell, and when it came time for the magical mother’s milk to appear, it didn’t. There was no lactation consultant available, and I was as stubborn as the day is long. At first I was loathe to surrender to my mother’s and sister’s wisdom when they told me Jaye was hungry. No, no, I insisted, he’s just colicky. I was proven wrong when, at his first checkup, the poor child had not gained a single ounce after leaving the hospital. I disintegrated in the examining room at the pediatrician’s office, blaming myself for not listening and endangering my precious baby’s life. Dr. Sweetums awkwardly patted my back and told me not to worry, but that it was probably best to put him on formula. I couldn’t get to the baby aisle at the local grocery fast enough. The first week he gained 22 ounces. The crying stopped and he was happy and healthy. Afterward, I couldn’t stop blaming myself, hoping I didn’t inflict any permanent damage to his little brain. I didn’t. He turned out just fine and is much more intelligent than I ever thought of being. He teases me sometimes when the subject comes up, that he might have been another Einstein if I hadn’t tried to starve him. “Yeah, I guess so,” I usually say, “but then you would have been a lot shorter than the rest of us.” He's six-foot-four.

9. I asked David if there was something about me that other people would be surprised to find out. He thought for a minute and said “You’re much more private than people think you are.” “True,” I said, “but that’s really boring.” He might have a point. I probably should have been a Gemini, because I have two faces. There’s my quiet, private self who relishes spending time all alone, sometimes for days at a time, loving every minute that I don’t have to spend attending to somebody’s needs other than my own. I’m not really a phone conversationalist, although I’ve been known to have hours-long talks with the right people, about the right subjects. I could easily live in the wilderness if I had a ready supply of necessities. But then, there’s the other me. The one who wants/needs to win all the games at baby showers. The one who is an untapped stand-up comedian. The one who would have loved to be a cabaret singer, crooning all the old standards just like Rosemary Clooney sang them. Let me entertain youuuu! Notice meeeee!

Imagine that, I found myself on Fotosearch!

10. And because I could see myself sitting before a grand piano, singing those songs to some fuzzy audience, I took piano lessons when I was in my mid-thirties. I had always wanted to play an instrument...piano, guitar, it didn’t matter to me. I just wanted to be able to entertain myself, and if I were actually found to have any talent, possibly the entertainment of others as well. I envisioned myself singing duets with Kenny Rogers and John Denver while stroking the ivories. It didn’t happen. My piano teacher, who also happened to be a good friend, tried in vain to teach me the skills needed to NOT sound like a plodding non-prodigy. No matter how I tried, I could not match the speed of my fingers with the tempo of the music. I loved those nice, slow adagio pieces which gave my reluctant brain the time to find the right keys and chords. Just the faintest glimpse of the instruction allegro, and my heart started beating double time in horror. There was also the eensy problem of my bossing the teacher. “Susan,” she would say, “ you simply must practice this song and get it perfect before we can move on.” “Rhonda,” I would reply, “I don’t like this song and it’s too hard, so I’m not playing it.” It’s no mystery to me why I never progressed further than John Thompson’s Third Course. How could my sister Jane, who had only nine months of lessons, play every song in the church hymnal in a lively manner when appropriate, and I not be able to play at all? Life just isn’t fair.

Well, as you can see, this is the “entertaining” me. Tonight there will be no parties for me, unless you consider three, maybe five, grandkids for a sleepover a party. So, I will toast the New Year in my usual way, with some nice hot chocolate and climb between my toasty warm flannel sheets to welcome 2011 in the very best way......ZZZZZZZZZZ.

My Christmas Wishes

2010-12-23T05:14:00.001-05:00

I wish I could say that I am the author of the lovely sentiments in my Christmas wish for you; they are from a card in a box of Christmas cards that I bought several years ago. Though I'm not the author, I try my best to walk in the path of those teachings. My wish for all of you, my dear friends, is that you will always live with hope, peace, love, and understanding in your hearts, and that you will spread those most valuable gifts wherever you may roam.

Merry Christmas!

T'was the week before Christmas

2010-12-19T08:56:00.000-05:00

When Christmas comes around my door,

The decorations don’t put themselves in place.

They hang around my tables and floor

In boxes and bins, staring me in the face.

There are ornaments with meaning sentimental,

And angels too still to fly.

It’s a good thing they aren’t rental,

I’ll get around to them by-and-by.

Oh, if only some Santa Claus elves,

Would visit me during the night.

They would take the tinsel off the shelves,

And dust my home with fairy light.

What’s that I see when I rub the sleep from my eyes?

Did some magic in the night occur?

If the elves came from my wishes and sighs,

They must have performed in a scurrying blur!

Oh, yes, now I remember my stake!

I’m the one who placed them there.

I must have been Bearly Awake,

When at last I positioned the ornaments with care.

If only it all would happen with such ease,

I would already be feeling rested,

But we know fairy tales don’t really appease,

And by this time next week, I’ll be bested.

~Susan D.~

Six Word Sunday

2010-10-03T00:01:00.002-04:00

In the tradition of Ernest Hemingway, who was once challenged to write a short story in six words.

His six-word story was: "For sale: baby shoes, never worn."

Each week I will choose a theme. It is your mission, if you choose to accept it, to meet that challenge in six words, no more, no less.

If you like, you may illustrate with a photo, or not.

Punctuation will be your biggest ally.

If you decide to play, please link back to this post, and leave the link to your post in comments here.
If you don't want to create your own post, you can write your six-word story in my comments.

The Theme:

Cats

Rescued ones make very loving pets.

Thank you for playing.

Saturday Serenade

2010-10-02T00:01:00.004-04:00

It was rumored that Dean Martin was totally smitten (really, in love) with the lovely Petula Clark. She appeared several times on his variety show in the late sixties and early seventies. I think it's pretty obvious what his feelings for her were in this video. His daughter Deana Martin wrote a biography of her late father, Memories Are Made Of This , in which she hinted at his infatuation with Petula. Whatever the truth happens to be, they sing very well together, and there was definitely some chemistry going on there.

Comments are not required. This is for your listening and learning pleasure only.

Six Word Sunday

2010-09-26T00:01:00.004-04:00

In the tradition of Ernest Hemingway, who was once challenged to write a short story in six words.

His six-word story was: "For sale: baby shoes, never worn."

Each week I will choose a theme. It is your mission, if you choose to accept it, to meet that challenge in six words, no more, no less.

If you like, you may illustrate with a photo, or not.

Punctuation will be your biggest ally.

The Theme:

Banned Books Week

Read one, just because you can.

Thank you for playing.

Saturday Serenade

2010-09-25T00:04:00.004-04:00

One of my favorite songs is the signature song of my mother's namesake, Edith Piaf. It makes me want to learn French just so I can understand the words that she wrote and sang. There is an English version, but it just doesn't have the same je ne sais quoi. The movie "La Vie en Rose" (2007) is not always easy to watch, but Marion Cotillard's performance as the "Little Sparrow" is mesmerizing, and her Oscar for best actress was well-deserved.

I love Louis Armstrong's version, too, and always watch the credits at the end of "French Kiss" just so I can hear him sing it. Interestingly, when researching the song, Wiki gave a list of notable people who had sung it. Here are a few of the singers I would never have associated with this song:

Aretha Franklin
Barbara Feldon (Get Smart)
Belinda Carlisle
Brenda Lee
Connie Francis
Cyndi Lauper
Donna Summer
Grace Jones
Jack Nicholson (I forgot about his karaoke scene in "Something's Gotta Give")
KT Tunstall (Black Horse in a Cherry Tree)
Petula Clark

Who knew?

Comments are not required. This is for your listening and learning pleasure only.

TV premiere week

2010-09-20T20:23:00.001-04:00

Yep, I confess, I'm a TV addict. I'm salivating over all the new shows premiering this week and next. I can't remember the last time I was this excited about television. My DVR is probably going to have a meltdown trying to keep up! Some of my favorite stars are returning to the small screen. Well, in our case it's a 42" small screen...kinda different from when they coined that phrase, dontcha think?

I loved Maura Tierney in ER. She played nurse-turned-medical student-turned doctor Abby Lockhart in 189 episodes. Despite having been raised in an upper-crust family from the Hyde Park district of Boston, she played middle-class Abby with distinction and truth. There was never a false moment in her portrayal of a woman who is fragile and vulnerable on the inside, but tough on the outside, and who is afraid to love and let someone into her heart. Now, after a year of fighting breast cancer (in which she gave up the lead role in "Parenthood", and I'm glad she did), she has the lead in a new courtroom drama called "The Whole Truth". I have no doubt she will be awesome in the role.

Also making a comeback is Sela Ward. Remember her as "Teddy" Reed on the series "Sisters", for which she won an Emmy. She was the only reason I watched the show. Her stint with George Clooney (before his movie career took off) as Falconer was my reason for living at that time. Sela also starred in the highly-acclaimed series "Once and Again", again winning an Emmy for best actress. I've never watched a "CSI" show before, but I will have to give "CSI: NY" a try. She is playing a crime scene forensics expert (what else?) after Melina Kanakaredes' exit from the show.

And now I totally get "Glee". I've been hearing accolades from several sources, including Char from ramblins. The show won several Emmys this year. The songs are great...ones I can sing along with, it has much better dancing than "Dancing with the Stars", and Jane Lynch is fabulous in the role of head cheerleading coach Sue Sylvester. Never has there been a more ruthless coach (with a teensy soft spot in her heart) in cheerleading history. I recently caught up with a few of last seasons's episodes. I loved the storyline between Rachel (Lea Michelle) and the rival glee club coach played by Idina Menzel, who defined the role of Elphaba in the original stage production of "Wicked". Their duets were powerful and moving and perfectly in sync. I can't wait to see the season premiere on Tuesday. Oh, I almost forgot! It's set in Lima, Ohio...how cool is that?!!

Top on my list of returning shows is "The Good Wife" which will be premiering its sophomore season. This drama stars another of my favorite actresses, Julianna Margulies. I didn't think she would ever get another role equal to Carol Hathaway on "ER", but her portrayal of Alicia Florrick, wife of a Chicago politico (who was disgraced and imprisoned over a nasty sex scandal), who returns to work in a law firm to support her family, is nuanced, layered and perfectly on pitch. The show has a wonderful ensemble cast, including Archie Panjabi, Chris Noth, Alan Cumming, Christine Baranski and Josh Charles. But make no mistake, it is Margulies' show. The writing is superb with subtle twists and turns and I'm riveted to the screen from beginning to end, and then can't wait until the next week's show airs.

Then there are my favorite comedies to look forward to. "The Middle" with Patricia Heaton seriously makes me laugh out loud, guffawing even. The parents are inept and detached, but loving, and they usually get it right in the end. The kids are just hilarious, each one having his or her unique quirks. And it's set in Indiana, but it could just as easily be right here in Ohio. There's very little difference.

I've gone back and forth on "Modern Family", but it won so many Emmys that I'll have to give it another chance. "30 Rock" is just insane. Alec Baldwin cracks me up with his deadpan delivery. "Cougar Town" is my guilty pleasure...Courney Cox is a hoot.

Shows that have captured my attention, but I'll reserve judgement until I've seen a few episodes:

"Blue Bloods"--starring Tom Selleck, this generational family cop drama is getting great first notice from the critics. I don't agree with his politics, but you gotta give 'Magnum' credit, he knows how to wear a 'stache.
"The Event"--starring Jason Ritter, Blair Underwood and Laura Innes. NBC has been keeping this one a mystery, but word has it that it centers on a conspiracy to do harm to the President of the United States. I'm not sure I can handle a whole season of an arcing storyline, but I'll give it a try.
"Body of Proof"--starring Dana Delaney. I've loved her since "China Beach", 'nuff said.

There are more returns from last season, but I'll spare you the rest. Just know that I probably won't be getting a lot of reading done. Gotta run, "Chuck" is on. But you can watch a clip from "The Middle".

Six Word Sunday

2010-09-19T00:01:00.001-04:00

In the tradition of Ernest Hemingway, who was once challenged to write a short story in six words.

His six-word story was: "For sale: baby shoes, never worn."

Each week I will choose a theme. It is your mission, if you choose to accept it, to meet that challenge in six words, no more, no less.

If you like, you may illustrate with a photo, or not.

Punctuation will be your biggest ally.

The Theme:

Silence

Babysitting grandkids makes me crave it.

Thank you for playing.

Saturday Serenade

2010-09-18T00:01:00.001-04:00

Thank goodness, it's almost over.

If you've never listened to Heywood Banks, you don't know what you've been missing.

No comments required...this is for your listening and learning pleasure only.

other things

2010-09-15T13:14:00.001-04:00

Since we came back from vacation, there has been plenty to keep me busy. Two days before we left for Pennsylvania, the husband brought this home and said, "Can we keep it?" "Sure, why not," was my reply.

I've been scurrying around looking for items to outfit it in time for some weekend camping this month and next. That has been a fun project. I can't wait to take it out for its maiden voyage.

A few shots of the inside...notice in the upper right hand corner the repurposed CD rack that is now a perfect towel and wash cloth holder. I replaced the bedspread that came with the "queen-sized" bed with one of my quilts...much cozier. The camper sleeps eight...I'm guessing they're talking little people, not full-fledged adults, although the dinette is fairly roomy and the sofa makes into a very comfortable air mattress bed. It also has two bunks near the bathroom. I realize that some of you may not consider this to be "real" camping, but I'm old and I need my own bathroom, especially in the middle of the night. No tents for me.

These little guys have been occupying a lot of my time this summer. Now that they're back in school, I have a little more free time.

(Lauren wears an eye patch every day to correct amblyopia. She loves feeding and petting the chickens. Matthew is such a good talker at two years old. He was collecting acorns and trying to walk the plank at the same time. Not easy.)

(Gaige and Nathan are working on posters that now grace their wall at home, and here, too. Kaitlyn is trying to figure out how to combine Barbies and farm animals. I don't really think Barbie is much of a farm girl though. I've also been babysitting my grand-dog Loki a bit.)

And some pictures for you lichen likers.

This is what I will be doing for the next couple of months. I'm the Popcorn Kernel, (yes, I said Popcorn Kernel ) for our Cub Scout pack. That means I am in charge of sales, ordering, distribution of product, and awards for the lucky sales winners. Of course, everyone's a winner if they sell anything at all. We can't have upset Cub Scouts, y'know. There is one thing I will not do and that is wear the ridiculous foam ear of popcorn hat. I don't look good in green and yellow.

Finally, no really, finally...last Sunday I made the best pizza I think I have ever eaten...anywhere...and you know I don't like to brag on myself, but it was that good.

I made a half white and half whole wheat crust. Grilled some eggplant, zucchini, thick-sliced onions, and all colors of sweet peppers until they were almost tender and had some good grill marks. But first, I brushed all of the veggies with olive oil, then sprinkled with salt and a good garlic-herb seasoning (my favorite is Trader Joe's 21 Seasoning Salute). Except for the eggplant, which I left in circles, I rough chopped the rest of the veggies.

To assemble the pizza:

Pat out the dough and cover with your favorite pizza sauce.

Top the sauce with sliced mushrooms, any variety, and frozen, thawed spinach, squeezed dry.

Top with mozzarella first, then a medium sprinkling of shredded asiago cheese.

Arrange grilled veggies on top of the cheese. Then sprinkle with Parmesan, or if you prefer, parmagiano reggiano.

Bake at 500 degrees for about 12-15 minutes, depending on how dark you like it. I start checking mine at 10 minutes.

I ate until I was stuffed. Yum-oh!

What I did on my summer vacation

2010-09-13T12:30:00.003-04:00

I know there are a couple of dedicated Swamp rats (you know who you are) who have been anticipating my return from my self-imposed exile. I'm easing my toes back into the murky depths of Bear Swamp with a back-to-blog pictorial essay.

Our trip to Pennsylvania.

Our visit to State College, PA, home of Penn State University, brought us to this old farm on one of the best trout-fishing streams in the eastern part of the state. I spent some time exploring while David got his line wet.

There were stone posts around the perimeter of the yard. I think they were once linked by fencing material.

The yard was very shaded by hardwood trees and enormous firs, making for some interesting moss and lichen formations.

It almost resembles a globe, don't you think?

After we left State College, we visited friends near Bethlehem, PA. This is one of several bridges built in the early 1900's that cross the Lehigh River. We were walking along the river to MusicFest, where my twelve-year-old goddaughter Sofia was dancing with her Irish Dance academy. (At the end of the post you will get a chance to see her in action.)

When we arrived in Tunkhannock, PA (near Scranton-Wilkes Barre, and of which David will never learn the correct pronunciation), we were delighted by my online choice of our bed & breakfast called Sharpe's House, owned by Harry and Dorothy Sharpe. We didn't get to meet Dorothy, because she was in Michigan having a reunion with several of her high school chums. Harry was a wonderful host though, and Dorothy had left several choices of nut breads for him to serve each morning. He's a very good slicer. He also did very well cutting up large dishes of summer fruits and made a perfect pot of coffee. He even made us hard-boiled eggs each morning. He was friendly, but not intrusive, and so accomodating. We were the only guests the first night, and since we would have had to share a bathroom, Harry turned down two last minute requests for rooms on the subsequent days. Isn't it wonderful to be liked?

There were walking paths with discoveries, both whimsical,

and sublime.

Finally, the wedding day of our dear friends' daughter, Sharon, arrived. I loved the setting of a simple country church with summer flowers befitting their surroundings. The ceremony was meaningful and full of humor. And the bride was lovely.

Here is Sofia's promised dance. No, that isn't her real hair; they all wear insanely curly wigs. They're big into uniformity.

See you in the funny papers

2010-08-08T00:01:00.007-04:00

We're going to Pennsylvania to visit friends and for David to get in some fly-fishing. Then we will be ending next week with the wedding of our friends' daughter.

I've made a difficult decision to take a vacation from blogging as well. As much as I love it, it consumes so much of my time that I never get any major projects done these days, and there are quite a few that I would like to tackle in the weeks to come. I'm sure I'll be checking in on your blogs from time to time so you won't forget about me, but I won't be posting anything in the near future. Don't y'all have too much fun without me!

"See you in the funny papers!"

Saturday Serenade

2010-08-07T00:01:00.000-04:00

Remembering Nicolette Larson (July 17, 1952 - December 16, 1997).

No comments required...this is for your listening and learning pleasure only.

Friday Funnies

2010-08-06T00:01:00.001-04:00

This is for amusement purposes only...no comments are required, unless you feel compelled to do so.

Monday Movie Meme: Repeat after me...

2010-08-02T08:28:00.000-04:00

Molly at The Bumbles has chosen Highly Quotable Movies as her theme this week. I love quotes from movies, probably because at heart I'm a plagiarist and someone else's words almost always sound better than my own.

I know it's technically a mini-series, but it's a great movie to me...just extra long...my choice is Lonesome Dove.

"I hate rude behavior in a man. I won't tolerate it."

"I'm just tryin' to keep everything in balance, Woodrow. You do more work than you got to, so it's my obligation to do less."

"Well, I'm glad I ain't scared to be lazy."

"Well, hell, boys. I'd damn sight rather be hung by my friends than by a bunch o' damn strangers."

"I'god, a man could get rich in the grave digging business around here."

"A man that will talk to a pig ain't no better than a farmer."

"Well we don't rent pigs and I figure it's better to say it right out front because a man that does like to rent pigs is... he's hard to stop."

"I never noticed you having accidents with ugly girls."

"It ain't dyin' I'm talkin' about, it's livin'."

"Well, Gus; there you go. I guess this will teach me to be more careful about what I promise people in the future."

[This list doesn't contain any of the memorable exchanges between Gus and Woodrow.]

Six Word Sunday

2010-08-01T00:01:00.004-04:00

In the tradition of Ernest Hemingway, who was once challenged to write a short story in six words.

His six-word story was: "For sale: baby shoes, never worn."

Each week I will choose a theme. It is your mission, if you choose to accept it, to meet that challenge in six words, no more, no less.

If you like, you may illustrate with a photo, or not.

Punctuation will be your biggest ally.

The Theme:

Weddings

Our wedding day, July 28, 1972

Beyond the wedding lies the marriage.

Thank you for playing.

Saturday Serenade

2010-07-31T00:01:00.001-04:00

If you would like to learn more about the great Anita O'Day, go here. Her fascinating story Anita O'Day: Life of a Jazz Singer is available on Amazon, Netflix, and on The Documentary Channel, Monday, August 9, at 6:00 PM. If you love jazz, you'll love Anita.

I did it! I did a whole week's worth of posts! In case you were wondering why the frequency. Just a little mini-challenge for myself.

Comments are not required for this post...it's only for your listening and learning pleasure.

Friday Funnies

2010-07-30T00:01:00.005-04:00

This is for amusement purposes only, so no comments are required, unless you are compelled to do so.

Purging my bookshelves

2010-07-29T00:01:00.005-04:00

It's painful for me, but I really need to give away some of my books to make room for the many, many, many that I have bought over the last six months. Most of the new-to-me books have been found at Goodwill and the library's discard shelf and they're stacked fifteen deep on top of my desk. I don't have room for more bookshelves, so some of the old ones have to go.

So, I'm ~~stealing~~ borrowing an idea from Stacy at Stacy's Books. This stack of books is the first to go, and it's a first-come, first-serve basis. So let me know which one you want and I will get it to you. One per customer, please!

From the top:

1. The Dive from Clausen's Pier by Ann Packer. This is actually a NTM book, but I forgot that I already had a hardback. How much loyalty do we owe the ones we love? Would you stay or walk away if your fiance' was suddenly rendered helpless. What if you were only twenty-three?

2. Coastliners by Joanne Harris, the author of Chocolat, which I also bought. After living in Paris for ten years, a woman returns to the island where her estranged father lives in hopes of reconciling with him.

3. Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. Sorry, couldn't get into it.

4. The Double Bind by Chris Bohjalian. I've read four or five of his books, including The Midwives which was made into a TV movie starring Sissy Spacek. This novel is about a woman who is attacked while riding her bicycle through Vermont's back roads. Her life is forever changed. This story is very twisty-turny and totally captivating.

5. Women of the Silk by Gail Tsukiyama. Young women who work in the silk factories in China in the mid-1920's. Fascinating.

6. "And So It Goes" by Linda Ellerbee. The story of Linda's life and career in the news bidness, up to 1986, that is. Had this one a while.

7. Mirror, Mirror by Gregory Maguire, the author of Wicked. In his ongoing quest to retell every fairytale in a skewed way, he relates the real story of Snow White who hooks up with the Borgias. Fractured Fairytales, for sure.

8. Mostly True: A Memoir of Family, Food and Baseball by Molly O'Neill, former food columnist for the New York Times Magazine. She also happens to be the sister of Paul O'Neill, retired right-fielder for the New York Yankees. She grew up in Columbus, Ohio in the fifties and sixties. I loved it.

9. Clear Springs by Bobbie Ann Mason. Memoir of her life growing up in central Kentucky. She's the author of In Country, about a wacky, messed-up Vietnam vet which was made into a movie starring Bruce Willis. Good movie, great book.

10. The Boy Who Loved Anne Frank by Ellen Feldman. Ever wonder what happened to Peter van Pels after World War II and his incarceration in a Nazi concentration camp? This is his supposed life.

11. Back When We Were Grownups by Anne Tyler. I've read 8 or 9 of her books and never been disappointed. This one, not so much. I only made it to Chapter 3, but maybe it will be your cup of tea.

The days go by...

2010-07-28T08:36:00.000-04:00

13,870 of them, to be exact, not taking into account Leap Year days. Thirty-eight years since we said "I will", not "I do". Most of the days were happy ones, or just ho-hum. Some of them were heartbreaking and sad beyond belief. It's easy to get through the happy and ho-hum ones. The real test is getting through the not-so-happy ones. We've passed the test and the glue we've spun is holding fast.

Happy Anniversary to my love

The leaves will bow down

2010-07-27T12:05:00.000-04:00

I love a good thunderstorm. It's a love that was fostered by my dad when I was a small child. He would set me on his lap on the front porch of the old farmhouse. There were two huge maples, probably more than a hundred years old, in the front yard not twenty feet from the house. I remember squealing with fear and delight when an ear-splitting crack of thunder and the following lightning would be so close you could almost feel the electrical charge and smell the sulphur in the air. Daddy would hold me tight and tell me to not be afraid...that it was only noise.

One day we were enjoying the unleashed forces, when the inevitable happened. The maple tree to the left of us was struck by a huge bolt of lightning and crrrrackkkk half of the tree was gone...split right down the middle. Lucky for us, the falling half of the tree fell away from the house. Daddy rushed inside with me, fearful that the rest of it could go any second. It didn't and all was well, except for a power outage that seemed to last for days in a little girl's mind, but in reality was probably only five or six hours. Daddy cut down the rest of the tree, and that was the last time we sat on the porch to watch a storm. Oh, we still liked watching them, but from the relative safety through the window.

When my children were little, we would kneel on the couch in front of the big windows and watch the trees thrash and the rain blow hard against the panes. Hail always made it extra exciting. They never feared storms and always looked forward to the show. If the power went out (which it often did because our electricity was from a rural co-op), we played word games and read by candlelight. One of my favorite games was to name all the states and their capitols. I'm still pretty good at it.

I can think of only two times when I was really frightened by a storm. The first was when Aimee and I were home alone and a storm came up that was so fast and furious, it made me a little nervous. When lightning struck the deck after a thunderclap so loud it hurt our ears, we both clung to each other until it was over. That storm gave me a lot more respect for them, especially as a mother protecting her children.

The second time was on our famous trip out west in the camper. We were camping in a private campground on the edge of Glacier National Park. In the summer, the sun doesn't set until ten or later. After supper, David wanted to take another short hike, but I was pooped and decided to stay in camp. He took the kids and was gone and gone and gone some more. You are warned when you're in the mountains that storms can come up very quickly and it can get freezing cold just as quickly, but when they left, the sky had been completely clear with no sign of impending weather and they hadn't taken any rain gear or jackets to keep warm.

Of course, a vicious thunderstorm blew up around 9:00. I was huddled in the camper, hoping for a sign that they had arrived safely back at the site. At ten o'clock, the storm had blown over, but they still weren't back and it was nearly dark and I was getting hysterical, so I headed to the camp office to have them call a park ranger to get a search party together. About the time the campground manager located the ranger and was explaining the details, I saw our mini-van come rolling into the parking lot. I didn't know whether to cry with relief or to give David a good tongue lashing about endangering the kids' lives and his own. I think I did both. He explained that it hadn't even rained where they were and had no idea I would be so worried. This was long before cell phones, and they probably wouldn't have worked there, if we had owned one.

We could use a good thunderstorm in our area. The weather has been nearly unbearable and everything is drying up. We did get a little break when one danced all around us a couple of days ago which made it a little cooler. We heard some thunder off in the distance, but we only got a quarter-inch of rain and I'm having to water the garden. So, hats off to thunderstorms...may they bring you entertainment, relief from the heat and a thirst-quenching rain, but not any harm to you and your loved ones.

This song reminds me of my dad and me.

http://new.music.yahoo.com/peter-paul-mary/tracks/for-baby-for-bobbie--23428798

Gone is just another word....Magpie Tale #24

2010-07-26T21:03:00.002-04:00

I sit in the chair facing the last scene of our entanglement. You're gone now, but the scent of you lingers in the linens. I can't bear to sleep there even though my eyes are heavy with the want of slumber....and I can't bear to freshen the bed with line-dried sheets and pillow coverings with not a trace of that wantonness which lingers still in the back of my mind.

My head lolls with the supreme effort of staying awake. Why can't I just let myself fall into sleep? Am I afraid that when I wake, the nothingness will no longer be a hazy unreality....but harsh clarity in the glaring light of the noonday sun?

This is my first attempt at Magpie Tales. Visit here to see all the entries. Photo supplied by Willow at Life at Willow Manor.

"Tin Can Trust"

2010-07-26T09:01:00.000-04:00

For fans of Los Lobos, the Grammy-winning American-Chicano rock band, NPR has a special treat for you. Until the release on August 3, you can listen to their new album, "Tin Can Trust", in its entirety.

Enjoy!

Six Word Sunday

2010-07-25T00:01:00.001-04:00

In the tradition of Ernest Hemingway, who was once challenged to write a short story in six words.

His six-word story was: "For sale: baby shoes, never worn."

Each week I will choose a theme. It is your mission, if you choose to accept it, to meet that challenge in six words, no more, no less.

If you like, you may illustrate with a photo, or not.

Punctuation will be your biggest ally.

The Theme:

Justice

1999 White House Christmas Ornament

The Scales: slowly grinding into balance.

Thank you for playing.

I'm not one to brag, but....

2010-07-20T20:20:00.000-04:00

Hey! Guess what? A few months ago, a representative from Mother Earth News contacted me about some photos I posted on their website photo uploading page. She was interested in seeing more, so I submitted four or five pictures for her consideration. In a few weeks she contacted me again saying that a couple of them might be published in one of the summer issues. Honestly, it was so long ago that I had forgotten about it.

This morning I went out to the mailbox and in there was an envelope with three Aug/Sept issues of Mother. I was puzzled as to why there were three...did they mess up my recent renewal by sending me extras instead of extending the subscription?

It didn't dawn on me until I turned to the CU pages. I looked at the featured pictures and thought "Gee, that one looks familiar, and...WHAT!!!" There they were, one on each page, with my name underneath. AAAAAHHHHHH! You would have thought I had won the lottery! Too bad I didn't get any money for them, but it was really fun seeing them in a national magazine.

The first photo is one I shot for LensUsTogether... the theme was 'abandoned' and I think it was the second week.

The second one you will probably remember as one of my headers last year. I also used it in my post 'The Bridges of Union County'.

I'm thinking of submitting a few to the magazine 'Country'. I think I'm hooked!

Six Word Sunday

2010-07-18T00:01:00.002-04:00

In the tradition of Ernest Hemingway, who was once challenged to write a short story in six words.

His six-word story was: "For sale: baby shoes, never worn."

Each week I will choose a theme. It is your mission, if you choose to accept it, to meet that challenge in six words, no more, no less.

If you like, you may illustrate with a photo, or not.

Punctuation will be your biggest ally.

The Theme:

Red or White

Red ones give me a headache.

Thank you for playing.

Because I'm desperate....

2010-07-16T09:45:00.000-04:00

....I'm glomming onto Char's 7-link challenge. Of course, she borrowed it from Susannah, who borrowed it from Darren at problogger, so maybe I'm not such a thieving wretch after all. And here we go.....

Your first post...Here I Am...where I introduce myself as a chicken farmer, Grammy and potential writer.

A post you enjoyed writing the most...was actually a series I call "Mystery Ladies" and it begins with Bon Voyage, Ladies. The subject is a photo album which I found at an antique store of three women who embark on a Trans-Atlantic journey. There are seven posts and they are photo heavy. There's a ringer in the middle called 'Let's Play Tag'. You can just move on past that one, if you decide to check them out.

A post which had a great discussion...my post about birth order called Youngest, Oldest, Middle, Only. I loved the give and take on this one.

A post on someone else's blog you wish you had written...well, that would have to be my pal Ruth at synch-ro-ni-zing. While it was difficult to pinpoint one out of the hundreds of eloquent, deep, thought-provoking, and gorgeous posts that she writes, her recent offering of "Wheat" put her in the realm of short-story writer extraordinaire. If you look at just one of the links I've cited here, you should look at this one. Of course, most of my friend followers are already hooked on Ruthie.

A small disclaimer has to be added here that all of my blog friends are wonderfully talented women who write and photograph with great skill and creativity.

Your most helpful post...I guess that would have to be Susan's Helpful Hints and Susan's HH II...kinda obvious, huh?

A post with the title you are most proud of...was the post about our camping vacation in the '80s with our kids called "Are you crazy? Three weeks in a pop-up camper and...". That was a fun post. First runner-up: He floored me. Second runner-up: 1-800-JENNY-20. You knew I could never pick JUST one!

A post you wish more people had read...one that tells a little about my growing-up years called Random thoughts from my childhood. My writing and photography skills have made progress since then, but this one is dear to my heart.

I would love to see your own answers to this challenge. Want to join the party?

And, just because the post feels naked without a picture...

Six Word Sunday

2010-07-11T00:01:00.002-04:00

In the tradition of Ernest Hemingway, who was once challenged to write a short story in six words.

His six-word story was: "For sale: baby shoes, never worn."

Each week I will choose a theme. It is your mission, if you choose to accept it, to meet that challenge in six words, no more, no less.

If you like, you may illustrate with a photo, or not.

Punctuation will be your biggest ally.

The Theme:

Bridges

(Mississippi River crossing into Missouri from Illinois, courtesy repowers, Flickr)

Steel spans above water terrify me.

Thank you for playing.

This & That...Happy Birthday, Matt!

2010-07-08T13:51:00.001-04:00

Last Friday, the day before the big reunion, our grandson Matthew had his second birthday. We celebrated at our favorite Chinese restaurant.

Matt was sleepy and a wee bit bemused that all the attention was focused on him.

Sister Lauren got everyone going by telling us what we should do.

Cousin Kaitlyn kept things peaceful and on an even keel.

Cousin Gaige thoroughly enjoyed the many buffet offerings.

Cousin Nathan provided the evening's entertainment.

Finally, it was time to get down to business!

There was even singing by a lovely duo.

The very exciting finale!

Lauren was ~~giving more help than was actually needed~~ very helpful.

Happy Birthday, dear Matthew! Happy Birthday to you!

Randomness...

too small for a post, too good to pass up.

Been braiding some garlic.

Picking blackberries and making pies and cobblers.

Little Feather has decided the best place to lay her eggs is on a chair in my 3-season room. I leave Lucy the dog out there with the door slightly propped open when I'm away for more than a few hours, and twice I've come home and found an egg lying in the chair.

Well, it's one I don't have to bring in from the coop, I guess.

Hart Family Reunion

2010-07-06T11:13:00.000-04:00

The Hart family reunion is always held on the first Saturday of July. This year's reunion was extra special because my Aunt Marie was able to attend. She gave us quite a scare in the early spring with a bout of pneumonia and we thought we would lose her. But she is a tough woman who has survived many obstacles in her long, rich life. After being in a near-coma, she bounced back and is "feeling pretty good". Good enough to make us all happy that she is still with us and able to commune with us over good food and good talk. She is my mother's youngest sister and the only surviving sibling of that Schaffer/Hart clan.

(On the left is Aunt Marie holding Everett in the mid-1930's. On the right is the house as it appears today. It doesn't actually tilt...that would be the photographer's fault.)

We always have the reunion at my brother Everett's house which happens to be the Schaffer/Hart homestead and was also my home until I was eight. It was built in 1887 by my great-grandfather Peter Schaffer; and has always been owned and lived in by our family. And it always will be. That is a pact that will never be broken.

Aunt Marie telling me to take a pretty picture. And here it is.

My brother Everett is standing to my left with his wife, Gloria. They were married when I was three. My cousin, Earlene Hart Townsend, is on the left with her husband Jim.

With my youngest niece, Melissa, who is Everett's youngest. She is a sweetheart and so are her two sisters and three brothers.

The barn where I spent many hours playing as a child with my cousins and sometimes by myself. It was actually built before the house, so it may be closer to two hundred years old. The American chestnut posts and beams show no signs of age. Chestnut is impervious to insects and rot.

Jaye and Matthew in front of the small stream that runs between the house and driveway. It was a much more adventurous ride down the sidewalk when I was a child...no handrails! The stream flows into a creek across the road which almost always flash floods when there is heavy rain. The house has never flooded because it sits on a high bank.

Lauren and Melissa's two boys, Harm and Jake, explore the stairs to the basement. I played on those stairs all the time, and in the basement, when Mom would let me. My sisters swear that there are ghosts in there. My late sister Jane told that when she was a teenager, Mom sent her to the cellar to get something and on the way back up, she felt a hand grab her shirt. She turned around on the stone steps to look and she claimed to have seen a ghost wearing an old-fashioned uniform. Lots of screaming ensued! I was never scared to go in there...I loved playing in the dark coolness and smelling Mom's pickled corn and green beans in the big stone crocks weighted down with heavy plates. Those crocks are still in the barn.

This year's turnout was a little light. I'm hoping that next year the whole family will be able to attend. They were missed.

Six Word Sunday

2010-07-04T00:01:00.002-04:00

In the tradition of Ernest Hemingway, who was once challenged to write a short story in six words.

His six-word story was: "For sale: baby shoes, never worn."

Each week I will choose a theme. It is your mission, if you choose to accept it, to meet that challenge in six words, no more, no less.

If you like, you may illustrate with a photo, or not.

Punctuation will be your biggest ally.

The Theme:

Ice cream

(image courtesy of MyRecipes.com)

Bossy's greatest gift to dairy consumers.

Thank you for playing.

Perfect weather, wonderful zoo: Part two

2010-07-02T08:16:00.000-04:00

Not only does the Columbus Zoo have an awesome collection of animals, but it also is the home of a restored 1914 Mangels-Illions Carousel. This carousel is built in the style of Coney Island carousels by the William F. Mangels Company. Mangels was a German immigrant who designed and built some of the most beautiful carousels in the United States, including the ones in Coney Island Amusement Park. In 1907, he patented a version of the overhead gears that controlled the up-and-down "galloping" motion of the horses. Mangels' design became the standard, and Mangels himself became a leader in the field. He employed the best wood carvers and mechanics, who often were immigrants themselves. Mangels also designed other amusement park fixtures, such as kiddie cars and The Whip.

Marcus Illions is recognized as one of the two greatest artists of the carousel world. His masterpiece horses have very flamboyant heads and fairly well decorated bodies. Illions carved all the heads for his horses himself. Illions first carved carousel horses in England and then carved for Charles Looff in Brooklyn. He formed his own company in Brooklyn, New York, in 1909, carving initially for Mangels and then for himself. Although Illions' three most spectacular carousels (known as the "Supreme" models) have all been broken up, a number of his other carousels still remain. Examples of these are at Agawam Amusement Park in Springfield, Massachusetts, and the Columbus Zoo.

The carousel at the Columbus Zoo was originally designed for and installed at the now-defunct Olentangy Park in Clintonville, an unincorporated neighborhood of Columbus. When the park closed, the carousel was moved to Wyandot Lake Amusement Park which was adjacent to the zoo. It operated there for sixty years. The amusement park had seen its better days and was torn down and replaced with Zoombezi Bay Water Resort and Jungle Jack's (Hanna) Landing Amusement Park, which opened last year. In 1998, the carousel underwent a million-dollar restoration and was moved onto zoo property. There it is enjoyed by children and adults alike.

The carousel has fifty-two hand-carved and painted horses, two chariots and a Stinson band organ playing all your favorite old-time merry-go-round and circus tunes.

Kaitlyn is enjoying her ride.

So is her Grammy.