R.J.'s Place

Kill Shot

2012-02-25T14:45:00.002-05:00

In the fictional war on terror, some protagonists stand out like superheroes. At the top of the list is CIA agent Mitch Rapp, created by novelist Vince Flynn. In his latest "American Assassin Thriller", character Mitch Rapp again takes on the terrorists, traitors, double agents and selfish, shortsighted bureaucrats.

Continuing the story of the early life and beginnings of a newbie CIA agent first covered in American Assassin, Kill Shot finds Mitch Rapp proceeding to work his way down a list of terrorists, or sponsors of terrorists that the CIA has identified for assassination. Only four people knew the names of the people on the list and three had photographic memories, so a paper list was unnecessary.

When one of the targets on the list is taken out, and Rapp is attacked, he realizes he has been compromised in his mission. He barely escapes with his life and is wounded. It becomes obvious that the names on the list have been leaked to their enemies by an informant within their own ranks.Surviving and identifying who can and who cannot be trusted takes over as Rapp's primary objective.

Vince Flynn has done an admirable job in creating a character that can qualify as a hero because he is very skilled in all the qualities required of a spy, and he has the appropriate rage of injustice to fuel his motivation to do a very dirty job. "Boots on the ground" takes on a whole new meaning and gives the reader an insight into the dangerous, gritty assignments that are taken on by the groups like the Seal Team Six in an effort to protect citizens from aggressors that would like nothing better than to destroy the quality of life that civilized societies aspire to achieve.

Flynn has shown in his character, Mitch Rapp, a respect for the lives of innocents and his values in requiring surgical strikes in his assignments to avoid killing innocent bystanders. Mitch Rapp is a character with courage and resolve in removing the despots of the world with great skill and finesse. When the reader finds that Mitch Rapp has successfully removed the terrorists and traitors with no redeeming qualities and those who have no conscience in creating misery for other people, it is a particularly satisfying read.

As I read some of the reviews found online, many were very critical of the book and I couldn't disagree more. I have read every book written by Vince Flynn and he remains true to the character he has created and especially to the theme that there are evil forces walking the earth. The twelve Mitch Rapp books point out that we need people who are capable and willing to confront and eliminate those evil forces. Those of us who sleep in clean, soft beds and sleep an untroubled night with no bombs interrupting our sleep, owe those courageous agents a great debt and should honor their work. Yes, it is fiction, but this series began before 9/11 and when it happened, I wondered if Vince Flynn was psychic. It serves as a necessary reminder that Joe/Sally Citizen can go about their daily lives because many other citizens have sacrificed with untold efforts which made that peaceful existence possible. Peace is not free.

Take Your Best Shot

2012-02-15T14:48:00.001-05:00

I love looking at beautiful blogs where expert photographers display their photos of pets, children, sports events, fireworks and all those challenging photographic "Kodak moments". I've upgraded to a better camera several times, but I know I need a more sophisticated camera to produce results like the ones I envy online. I am learning to play with light settings, ISO, shutter speed, focal distance, and all those other little settings on my camera. Sometimes I even RTFM.

My great frustration is in finding a great opportunity to photograph, but my light setting might be wrong, or my shutter speed is wrong. Maybe I needed to do a macro of a flower. Other frustrations are in trying to take pictures of my grandchildren who constantly move about and don't like to pose for cameras. Sometimes I turn on the video and just take movies of them. I have played with the movie making software and pulled out a freeze frame still shot, but the quality isn't what I would want for a photo album or to put in a frame. I have played with Photoshop and a half dozen editing programs to try to improve focus, color, or lighting.

I once took a mini course on digital photography and came away with a few guiding principles that were helpful. The instructor said, "Take a deep breath, depress the shutter button halfway to allow it to auto-focus and squeeze it to take the picture to avoid camera shake." Standing still is very difficult so I often lean on a column or whatever is handy. Consequently, my photos often are out of focus and thank goodness it is digital rather than film, because I delete more than I use. Sometimes I take a dozen pictures or more to find one I can accept. The ones that are out of focus frustrate me when I expect a photo that looks as my eye sees something. I like a small camera and I don't like to drag around a tripod.

For those of us who love photography but struggle with our amateur status, help is on the way. In Science News, January 28, 2012, an article called "The Digital Camera Revolution" details a jaw-dropping list of innovations. Even though there are now cameras that take pictures around corners, or others that can make an image look like a 3-D image, the one that appeals to me is the new Lytro. You can focus the photo after you take it. How did they know I needed that? Cameras for Dummies.

I know where there are innovations, there are ways to manipulate great technology for nefarious motives. I already look at photos with skeptical eyes and fancy I can tell which have double images or have been Photoshopped into something that doesn't exist. Seeing is not always believing. Nevertheless, I look forward to the camera that will make my photos look as great as I want. I want to freeze that moment when my grandson pops a bubble with his nose and I want it focused.

A Party of Orchids

2012-02-05T12:19:00.001-05:00

In the midst of a dark, cloudy day, brightness and a burst of color is only ten minutes from my house. Longwood Gardens in Kennett Square, Pennsylvania is hosting their annual orchid extravaganza which is truly spectacular. On the first step into the conservatory from temperatures in the middle forties outdoors, the warm, humid breeze brings a perfume of promises.

The variety of colors is always a feast for the eyes in the middle of winter. There aren't enough adjectives to describe the fabulous displays this horticultural wonder produces.

The orchids are featured, but many other flowers are also abundant and lilies are a nice combination with the orchids.

What's Next Door?

2012-01-31T09:37:00.001-05:00

I just finished reading Taken recently released by Robert Crais. I have enjoyed his mysteries that have been sprinkled with dry wit and some wise-cracking humor, so I was eager to read the latest adventures of his two main characters, Elvis Cole and Joe Pike. I tiptoed carefully into it because the further I read, the more I knew it was going to be a hard slog. I almost put it down and walked away because I suspected it would not end well. There's not much humor in this story. It wasn't an easy read, but it was enlightening. It was a tense crime thriller.

The plot begins with Elvis Cole being hired by a successful business woman to find her college-age daughter and boyfriend who have been missing for a week. After all, Elvis Cole was dubed the World's Greatest Detective in a magazine article. She can't contact the police because she is an undocumented, illegal immigrant, but she has been contacted for ransom for her daughter.

So begins the search by Elvis Cole and Joe Pike to find the two young people, who they discover have been mistakenly swept up in crimes taking place near the border. They discover the shadowy world of human trafficking by coyotes who bring people from many countries of the world, illegally, into the U.S. through the southern borders into the desert. They are aided by drug cartels and gangs in the south western states. The people pay a fee to come to the U.S., then become prisoners when stolen from the coyotes who are supposed to take them to communities where they are expected by businesses that will employ them or relatives who have paid for their passage. The bajadore, who steals the pollos from the coyotes, holds the pollos as prisoners in horrendous conditions and demands ransoms from relatives. When they stop paying, the bajadore and his crew brutally kill and dispose of the bodies in the desert.

The pollos, which is what they call the illegal immigrants to cheapen their value as humans, are held in homes in regular neighborhoods. The homes are made into prisons inside and no one in the neighborhood knows what is happening under their noses. The homes have out-of-state owners and are managed by a realtor who is related to the bajadore. The rent is paid to the realtor and the out-of-state owner has no idea to whom his property is being rented.

An interesting twist in the plot is the appearance of a near-superhero, Jon Stone. He is a special ops mercenary, and polyglot, with a photographic memory, and "skills". Trained by the U.S. government, he floats about as a free-agent taking on tough-guy challenges. He's an Alpha male on the loose. When it appears that one of the two missing college students they are tasked to find happens to be the nephew of an Assistant Deputy Director of the ATF, a power struggle ensues. Everyone wants to find the kidnapped people, but Jon tells the agent, "When we find these people, if Cole's dead, they aren't walking out. There will be no court of law. No judge and jury. You're an Assistant Deputy Director of the ATF. This will not go down in any way you can live with." Sometimes justice and the law can't play well together. I hope to see Jon Stone appear in the next Robert Crais novels because you can be assured when he is in the picture, the plot will end in a way the reader will like.

Caution: Grandchildren at Work

2012-01-29T12:15:00.004-05:00

When my daughter-in-law brought my grandchildren to visit Nana and Papa yesterday, I asked her what they should have for dinner thinking pizza or kid's meals at McDonald's. My six-year old granddaughter pipes up that she has been "hankering" for split pea soup. I knew I had all of the ingredients so I decided I would have the kids help me make it. She said my three-year-old grandson liked the carrots and would eat it. So that was settled. I had planned to make toasted garlic bread and sprinkle parm on top because they like that. My charming little lady also said she liked to dip it in olive oil so I put it on the dinner table and she enjoyed dipping the bread like grownups. She has been learning some very healthy eating habits at home. They do interesting presentations of food to keep the kids eating healthy stuff even though they sometimes get chicken nuggets and pizza. A sandwich cut into shapes tastes so much better.

I set two step stools in front of the stove while it was turned off. I had both children putting stuff into the big pot to make the split pea soup. I chopped the veggies and put peas, celery, carrots, onions, ham and water in measuring cups so they could pour the ingredients into the pot. They took turns stirring it before I turned on the stove. I let them shake salt and pepper into it and that was a big hit. They argued over whose turn it was to stir and we managed to share that without too much conflict. I like to break a task into manageable steps so that the little ones can feel successful.The little guy would stir with the big spoon and pull it up to find that a split pea had stuck to it. I told him not to touch it with his hands while cooking, but to bang the spoon handle on the pot side to dislodge the pea back into the soup. That was appealing, so he would stir and pound the spoon on the side of the pot. It was hysterical to watch a three-year-old "cooking".

Papa was filming this on his camera so we have a 9 minute video of the whole process. When they poured the ingredients from the measuring cup into the pot, pieces of carrots, or celery would not fall out, so I showed them how to turn the cup upside down and bang the side with their fist to dislodge the pieces into the soup. They liked that method more than using a spoon to pull out remaining pieces. I like to make sure they wash their hands before cooking, but I also like to show them the sanitary routines necessary to handle food. Of course, they were more willing to eat the soup because they had made it. It takes a bunch of patience to teach little kids to cook, but they can do the task and love trying. While the soup was cooking, I would go back to it at times to keep it stirred, but I don't let them near the hot stove.

To pass the time, My granddaughter and I sat at the dining room table with some sheets I had printed from NickJr before she arrived. She colored pictures of the sun, moon, and stars with either crayons or markers. She carefully cut them out with scissors and punched a little hole in each with my heart-shaped hole punch. I would push a string through the hole, and tape it to the back. Then she would put colorful stickers over the back. We cut the strings into different lengths, and tied them to two straws that I had taped into an X shape. We made a mobile from the pictures and hung the structure on the bottom of a clear coat hanger. We put it over a door to hang on the top of the door frame. They got such a kick out of looking at the mobile we had made. It took most of the afternoon for the process while the soup cooked. We had never tried to make a mobile before. The process seemed to be an interesting possibility as I was printing the coloring sheets for her so I decided to see if we could pull it off. She was very enthusiastic and proud about it, and took it home with her.

Meanwhile, my grandson was running about collecting anything he could find that he wanted to play with in kitchen drawers, and in cabinets. My kitchen drawers aren't junk drawers, they are treasure drawers filled with interesting gadgets to appeal to a three-year-old imagination. He found piles of keys attached to various key mechanisms which he managed to connect together. He did this by himself and wound up with a big pile of keys that looked like those that a building supervisor would need. He found a way to attach all of the key chains to each other and it was a really clever structure. He carried it around for the rest of the day.

The little guy pulled out a bunch of pots and pans which happened to have net baskets or other structures inside for various cooking purposes and he found things to put in them. He especially liked my broccoli/asparagus steamer with the big basket that lifts out and hooks on the side of the pot halfway up. Who needs toys?

Needless to say, the house is only half recovered from the day, and so are we. I was wondering earlier in the week what we were going to do with them for such a long time. Their imaginations kept them very busy during the entire visit.We spent most of the time at the dining room table with activities, so the rug has pieces of paper that I will need to vacuum. My granddaughter picked up most of the big pieces and has become very proficient at organizing and cleaning up things. She tells me my kitchen desk should be organized--"It's messy," she says.

I treasure the hours spent watching the grandchildren explore and learn. Viewing their discoveries through the eyes of age and experience makes me feel young again. I need to get busy looking for something new to amuse them on their next visit.

Teaposy

2012-01-17T15:12:00.001-05:00

I enjoy a hot cup of tea, so I usually pop a tea bag into a hot cup of water and let it brew. I drink de-caf green or black tea most often since my tea time is in the afternoon. I like to limit calories and I don't use refined sugar. Honey makes a nice addition to my tea, or Stevia for no calories at all. Sometimes Sweet and Low sneaks into my cup, but I like the taste of honey better. Point is, I am not a gourmet when I brew a cup of tea. The tea brewing experts that I know will say, "Don't you taste the paper of the tea bag?" I don't really know, since I never brew loose tea. "Loose" tea? No comment. If you can't be funny, don't be mean--just leave it alone.

I probably don't really know how a good cup of tea should taste. If it is hot, and not quite as boring as hot water, I figure I'm ahead of the game. I usually sip tea while reading, therefore, I don't pay much attention to how it tastes. I don't really savor my tea and pay close attention to the flavors as if it were a thousand dollar bottle of wine. My sense of taste is very unrefined.

I received a very unusual Christmas gift this year, and it is really eye-catching for any tea aficionado. My new little Teaposy is a cute experience that bears closer examination. I've heard about the extensive tea-brewing ceremonies practiced by some societies, but I haven't seen such a ceremony. My Teaposy is so interesting, it deserves a ceremony. So I read the directions and set up my camera to record this cutie. The videos on the Teaposey web site are very professionally produced and give a great perspective on the product.

The gift packet I received included the clear glass teapot with a strainer built in to contain the tea when it is poured into a cup. I opened one of the dozen little packets that were included to find a dry tea "bulb". You are directed to place the bulb in the teapot and slowly add hot water. I followed the directions as written, but I would recommend pouring the boiling water into the teapot, then carefully adding the delicate bulb to the hot water. I think this approach would protect the integrity of the flower and it would bloom as it soaks. As you wait 3 to 6 minutes, it blooms into a very colorful flower cradled in a base of tentacles that look like roots. I must admit it almost looks alive and a little like a tarantula. Their website explains that those are silver needle tea leaves packaged with a flower and dried together. This structure flavors the water into an herbal tea. I am familiar with trays of appetizers that include edible flowers, so tea made from a blooming flower isn't a far stretch. The gift set comes with an assortment of different flowers.

I would call the tea "delicate". The color is a pale yellow which is typical of many herbal teas, and the flavor is also delicate. I flavored the herbal tea with honey and I tasted the honey more than the tea. After the first cup, I got a bit more aggressive with this drink and poured a cup to heat in the microwave. I added Stevia to the reheated cup and got a bolder flavor that I prefer. After the fun of watching it bloom, I like the tea after it has steeped ten minutes, then reheated in the microwave. That takes away from the ceremonial aspect of it, but for flavor, it tastes very good when reheated.

It is a very interesting process to watch, and I can see that it would be fun for a ladies group or a group of friends you want to wow with a new experience. My granddaughter thinks it is really neat because it is so unusual. I think it would be a great way to introduce young people to the experience of drinking hot tea because the experience is unlike any other. It reminds me of times past and English gardens or Japanese Tea Houses where people had much time to indulge in the ceremony of drinking and appreciating hot tea.

Personal Space

2012-01-13T12:17:00.000-05:00

Believe it or not, there are five deer in this picture, and there were more out of range of the camera. The deer often sleep or doze in the woods behind our house, but it is interesting to me that they always space themselves so evenly apart. They don't gather together to snuggle and share body heat. They seem to travel in herds so if you see one, there are generally more nearby. However, it seems to me, based on my observations, that they require a certain amount of personal space when they settle on the ground to doze and chew their lunch for hours.

They remind me of people in restaurants, or more accurately, myself. I like personal space too. Anytime I enter a restaurant, I am curious to see where the hostess will decide to seat us and wonder on what they base those decisions. We have friends who have a philosophy that they never accept the first table offered by the hostess and have scouted the restaurant upon entering to determine the spot where they prefer to sit. They then insist on their chosen spot and are very firm with the hostess about where they prefer to sit. Over the years, we have become more and more assertive also about sitting wherever we prefer as opposed to where an eighteen-year-old hostess thinks we should sit.

It is very curious to me that the person seating diners will try to fill a whole section of the restaurant and leave certain areas with open tables. They direct people to tables beside the other diners even if there are only a few diners in the restaurant. I prefer that they give people a little space and seat them with several tables separating the customers so that they can have more private conversations.

When I worked, we often went out to dinner and we liked to catch up on events of the day or our personal circumstances. That might include conversations about our family members, or our financial dealings, or other personal conversations that we didn't want to share with people at other tables. Sometimes we would just have to say "later" because some conversations aren't for restaurant tables. Because I was a teacher in a public high school, I had many events of the day to discuss with hubby or even friends that I couldn't discuss in a restaurant because people I didn't know would recognize me and I wouldn't be aware that they were eavesdropping. I liked to keep a low profile so I couldn't discuss anything to do with my work in a restaurant.

Of course a restaurant hostess isn't seating people according to the preference of the customers, but for the convenience of restaurant staff or the servers. I don't know how they have been trained as to the proper approach to seating diners or if various restaurants have distinct policies. They all seem to have the default of seating people as close as possible to other diners. Do they really think that I want to listen to the conversation of a dating couple in their teens because we have been seated beside them? It annoys me when we are seated beside a family with active children. I like kids, but I like an adult dinner without the interruptions of kids.

It is hard to avoid conversations at adjoining tables so why not space diners away from nearby tables so that they can speak freely with the people who are dining with them whether it is a husband and wife, or two couples? They can fill in the empty tables as the restaurant gets busier and more tables are needed. When a restaurant is busy, it becomes noisy and seating diners next to other tables is necessary, but conversations are more private because they are covered by the noise in the room.

I like a lot of personal space in restaurants so we have early dinners to avoid crowds. I tell them I want to sit elsewhere when they want to seat us a foot and a half from the only other diners in the restaurant. I have only had one hostess say we couldn't sit where we wanted, so we said we would eat elsewhere and we left.

The Green-Eyed Monster

2012-01-07T12:08:00.001-05:00

My hairdresser says to me, "My thick hair is so hard to dry." She knows I have thin, unmanageable hair and she thinks she is consoling me by saying I wouldn't want to have hair like her very thick, luscious hair because it is hard to dry. Try me. Naturally, I am jealous but I try to be grownup and generous and pretend I'm not jealous. So I tell her it is a problem I would love to have. Maybe she is consoling me, or maybe she is gloating because she has what she knows I don't have.

We all do it and we all know we do it. Sometimes it is hard to resist but we know it will be received with mixed emotions depending on who hears/reads it. The art of the "humble brag" is raging across communication networks because we all like to brag, while seeming to put down ourselves. It is practiced far and wide across the globe as we compete for the greatest bragging rights whether it is the latest technology in our possession, the most accomplishments, or the most publicity. It's human nature to want to feel as good as, or even better than others and make them jealous.

I am fascinated with the phrase itself: "humble brag". I have always been aware of the concept without that particular phrasing when I perceive that someone is trying to tell me that they know someone famous, or that they went to Harvard, or any number of things about which they think I might be jealous. I am conscious of trying to be grownup enough not to "brag" about stuff because it seems so juvenile. Why should I brag about anything? I'm too old for that kind of competition. I would like to think I am not that shallow. I won't claim I've never indulged in the "humble brag" but I would like to think I am too mature to do that. Note that in my first sentence, I first said "hairdresser" when I could have just said "friend." It actually was my hairdresser, and I wasn't trying to be uppety by saying that I had a hairdresser, thereby creating a "humble brag" when I claim my thin hair. Much of this stuff is unconscious and unintentional. When is it a "humble brag"?

Even though I have observed the practice, we just always called it bragging where I grew up, no matter how cleverly stated. Back in those days, we would preface the statement with a disclaimer, "not bragging nor complaining, but..." Then we would proceed to do both bragging and complaining.

I encountered the quest to properly identify what is or is not a "humble brag" on a favorite TV show, NCIS L.A. That is one of my favorite shows--TV is good for something. Although I am on the Internet constantly, I felt like I was living in a cave and illiterate as one who had not encountered the label "humble brag" before. Off to the Urban Dictionary to see how people feel about the terminology. Off to Google to enjoy reading about how we play with our language. It seems that Twitter has a very active role in this practice where people can brag like mockingbirds and show off their latest and greatest whatever while seeming to be very modest.

I keep coming back to my feeling that the brag is perceived by someone prone to jealousy in the first place. If we weren't so competitive, it wouldn't matter if someone said, "My SAT scores were barely high enough to get into Harvard, but my I.Q. was enough." It would make me wonder about the person's emotional quotient. Maybe we should just indulge each other and celebrate with others because they obviously think we are important enough to try to impress.

Doors Unopened

2012-01-04T15:48:00.001-05:00

I turn down more subjects than I select to use when I post to my blog. Sometimes I don't have any representative photos that interest me so I pass over some candidates for subjects of a post. Sometimes, I find there isn't enough that I want to write about on a given topic beyond a few sentences. Sometimes I lack the motivation to expand on a given subject in the quest to find something profound in the situation. These items didn't make the cut:

Stargate - SG-1 We've been slowly working our way through a borrowed DVD collection of ten years of this series from the 1990's and thoroughly enjoying it. We are on season seven and we will be sad to see the end of the cast of characters when it segues into Atlantis which was the next series devoted to the subject of science fiction fantasy about travel to other planets and galaxies to find allies in the earth's never-ending battle with a formidable enemy which is dedicated to the destruction of earth. It would appeal to a very selective audience certainly.

The very enjoyable New Year's Eve party we attended with long-time friends was another subject I didn't think should be revisited on my blog. It was fun, but now it is done.

I find the topic of aging very hard to address on my blog. We visited a friend of the in-laws during the holidays. We were happy to take the time to visit the older generation at this time of the year. They have a multitude of challenges and any diversion is probably more valuable to them than gifts. Gifts for older people in their nineties would be another subject that I haven't attempted in this blog. The elderly have downsized, they usually have what they need, so I try to find something consumable, and share my time with them.

I never think that a peek into my daily life would be interesting, nor do I want to impose on my friends' privacy by posting pictures of them. I enjoy my "girls' day out" ventures with my friends and indulge in this hobby every opportunity I get. Yesterday, we went to a local casino for the day and ate lunch at their buffet. We do this periodically but I'm sure it doesn't interest most people. We had a great time, but it wasn't something that I thought would interest other people who look at my blog.

Everyone probably feels strongly about various issues, and blogging about them doesn't appeal to me because I don't seek to change the views of others, nor would I change my own. Therefore, what's the point? A few of those topics would include naturally, religion and politics, but also weird topics like sleeping pills, unisex dressing rooms or toilets, vanity license plates, or people who keep others waiting, or people who want to control other people. Since that list could become quite long, it's time to stop.

As much as I enjoy visiting with my grandchildren, other people also have grandchildren, so a little of that subject goes a long way. I restrain myself from posting about every charming thing they do.

I'm often reminded of the title of the old soap opera, The Days of Our Lives. Everyone has good days and bad days, but I try to be selective about what I share. I don't want my life to start to sound like a soap opera. I don't think of my blog as a journal or a diary. I figure my day to day just isn't that interesting to other folks and if it is, they seriously need to get a life. That's not to say that I don't enjoy seeing who has visited my little place in the world. I always appreciate the visitors and their comments.

Any time a subject makes the cut and appears on my blog, it probably represents ten others that I have rejected as likely blog fodder. My mercurial spirit needs to find the right mood and subject.

A Soup Recipe

2011-12-29T09:37:00.000-05:00

In keeping with their usual panache, Longwood Gardens has once again, exceeded my expectations. We maintain an annual membership in our family so we can visit as often as we wish and they give us special perks in their loyalty program. We visit their gardens, but also greatly enjoy their food service. They have a garden cafe as well as a full-service restaurant. Large groups can arrange catered events. Their restaurant features bread baked in tiny clay flower pots with the bread "blooming" at the top to produce very cute, tasty rolls. Our favorite dish is the mushroom soup which lures us for lunch any time we visit the gardens.

Kennett Square, Pennsylvania is the home of Longwood Gardens as well as many mushroom farms. This regions calls it the "mushroom capital of the world" because over 51% of the nation's mushroom crops are grown in this location. There is a tourist industry catering to these little caps. This year's annual mushroom festival produced a commemorative cookbook. They are pretty much like chicken in that they are like little sponges and assume the flavors and spices with which they are combined. They are very tasty and very healthy whether in soup or on a pizza. I refer to the mushrooms which are commonly used in cookery, and not to be confused with "shroomery" or the production of mind-altering drugs. TMI on mushrooms?

I mentioned the soup on my previous post and CiCi from "Liquid Mind, Sanguine Soul" inquired about the recipe. I looked on the website for Longwood Gardens, but the recipe was not listed. I went to their "contact us" section and sent them e-mail suggesting that they put it on their web page. They e-mailed a copy of the recipe to me! We had thought it would be a big trade secret and they would never reveal their secret recipe, but here it is. You gotta love an organization that is so responsive to their fans. I haven't tried making the soup yet, but now I know what I have to buy.

LONGWOOD GARDENS MUSHROOM SOUP

Ingredients

1 quart water

½ cup heavy cream

1 leek, washed & diced

2 shallots, diced

1 stalk of celery, diced

1 tsp vegetable oil

2 Tbsps butter, divided

1/2 cup shitake mushrooms caps, julienned

1/2 cup cremini mushrooms, quartered

1/2 cup white mushrooms, sliced

½ cup sherry wine

1 ½ Tbsps flour

2 stalks chopped tarragon

4 stalks chopped thyme

Salt & pepper to taste

1 tsp truffle oil

Method

Heat heavy cream slowly on low.

Over medium heat, sauté the leek, shallots, celery, and thyme with the vegetable oil and 1 tablespoon of the butter slowly until translucent and sweet. Add the thyme and a pinch of salt and pepper.

Add all the mushrooms and cook until they wilt and liquid is released.

Pour in the sherry and cook until the liquid is reduced by half.

Place the remaining butter in a large stockpot on medium heat until melted, then remove from flame. Add flour while whisking to combine, and pour in water. Whisk until smooth. Return to heat and continue to stir until it comes to a boil for 2 to 3 minutes. Add the hot heavy cream, tarragon, and sautéed vegetables. Bring back to a boil for 4 minutes.

Season to taste with salt and pepper. Finish with the truffle oil.

Serves 4

Festive Holiday Scenes

2011-12-24T20:00:00.007-05:00

My family seems to have adopted the holiday tradition of visiting Longwood Gardens in Kennett Square, PA at this time of the year. It is a spectacular presentation and different each year.

We like to visit around dusk and have dinner at their restaurant. They make a unique mushroom soup since they are in Kennett Square, the mushroom capital of the world. Their chocolate chip cookies are the size of a plate. Usually, the weather is very cold so hot chocolate is a must.

It is quite a challenge for the photographers, but we try our best. It isn't easy with freezing hands to take those outdoor shots. I managed to find a few photos that were useful representations of the fabulous lights.

Playdate

2011-12-24T09:53:00.002-05:00

We had an early Christmas present yesterday. Our three-year-old grandson came to visit for the day while Mom and Dad went to lunch and a movie. The young man has a passion for making networks with cables he finds in Papa's office and in mine too. His dad and grandfather work with computers a lot when they are here. He thinks this is great family fun, so he takes old coils of Cat 5 cables and a hub box, strings them all together, plugs them together and plugs the hub into the electrical socket. A little green light comes on and he cheers like he has built the empire state building. Mr. M. has had to learn the difference between a phone cable and a computer cable because the end looks the same but there is a slight difference in size. He connects the phone cables to several old princess phones that we have, then he shows us how all of it works together. What a scream. He had cords all over the family room floor yesterday and we just watched and shook our heads. It was so funny. He wants to be a networking expert. Now I have to recoil all of the cables and put them into a box in my office because he will do it all over again next time they visit. Whatever floats his boat is fine with us. What's WiFi?

He likes to clean out the kitchen cabinet of anything that looks interesting. Yesterday, he took out a container with little cups for poaching eggs. The whole thing goes together with a big dutch oven I have and he spent hours playing with it. He went upstairs to get my container of buttons and put them in the five ramekins, then he removed them and replaced them with Scrabble tiles. We are always laughing about how he finds the weird stuff around the house to be great toys. He didn't spend much time on real toys yesterday.

Mr. M. spent a lot of time bringing us books to read to him. He prefers the interactive ones that have popups and little flaps that he can open. He knows the entire story and if you skip a part of something on the page, he insists that you say that the mouse is in the closet, or whatever. He knows the whole story but loves to open the flaps. How many kids have two adults all to himself for an entire day? He is so overjoyed when he gets here. He rips off his shoes, waves goodbye to his mom and dad and races into the family room. He is eager to get to his special day. They look at each other and say, "Who are we, nobody?" We all laugh that he is so excited.

This young man is the master of the movable feast. Yesterday, he ate a banana, two little bowls of cereal, four chicken nuggets, two pieces of pineapple, and four Oreos--all over the house. He takes them in small plastic containers so he can eat while he plays. He has no patience with sitting at a table to eat--that's boring. He knows there is stuff to play with while he chews. It takes too long to eat to sit with idle hands at a table. Nana and Papa are very indulgent. He's not ready for a restaurant. We'll have to try to get him to stay at the table when he gets older.

Looking for Santa

2011-12-21T16:44:00.000-05:00

Last Christmas, my son's family had given us some Lindt chocolates in cute little boxes that looked like presents so I kept them with my decorations. This year, I put them into a sleigh decoration I have because they seemed to fit perfectly. When the kids visited last Sunday, my granddaughter discovered them and asked where was Santa. I told her I would look in my decorations and see if I could find one to complete the fantasy of Santa with his sleigh. I agreed that the sleigh needed a Santa.

Later, I was in the kitchen when my three-year-old grandson came in to look at the magnets on my fridge door. He took off a new one of a Santa and showed it to me. I told him that was Santa and that he could play with it. He went into the family room and I went back to baking cookies with his sister. Soon, he came into the kitchen and hugged my legs and I reached down to hug him and say a few words to him. Then he took off to other things.

Tuesday morning, I happened to look at the fridge and wondered where he had left the Santa. I looked at the bins of toys in the family room and noticed the sleigh on the window sill where the Santa magnet was sitting with the little chocolate gift boxes. I don't know if my grandson put it there, but if he did, it explains a few of his actions. I just didn't connect the dots at the time and I thought it was really clever of him. We didn't even know he was listening to the conversation about the sleigh without a Santa and the Lindt boxes. Apparently, he is absorbing everything going on around him--little pitchers. I wish I had noticed it at the time to say something to him about finding a Santa for the sleigh.

Tomorrow, he will be visiting with Nana and Papa while his parents go out to have lunch and see a movie and his sister is in school. I will make sure we spend some time looking at the sleigh and talking about the gift boxes and the Santa figurine. I like to encourage the grandchildren any time I can find something they do that meets with my approval. Everything they do is a hit with me. I wonder if other people are so enamored of their grandchildren.

Shrinking the Bucket List

2011-12-12T16:02:00.000-05:00

It would be an accurate statement to say that my passion for the beauty of bridges knows no limits. Since the late 1960's, when we used to go to New York City by way of the Staten Island Ferry, it has been a dream of mine to sail under the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge, which was completed in 1964. We just did that twice this month on the Explorer of the Seas which sails from Cape Liberty Port in Bayonne, New Jersey, to ports in the Caribbean. This particular trip stopped in St. Maarten, St. Thomas, Puerto Rico and Labadee. The ports of call could have been anywhere because my interest was in the bridge.

It is a slow approach, and the sail under the bridge is only about an hour of the most interesting part, but it was beautiful to see the bridge at dusk upon departure and at dawn on the return leg of the trip. On departure, people crowded on the top deck in the very cold wind to take pictures of the Statue of Liberty with the Manhattan skyline in the background. The sun was just setting and the half moon was near the bridge, which was brilliantly lit. Jupiter was off to the side and we could see airplanes were taking off and landing at JFK in the distance. To the northeast was the Brooklyn Bridge which was also outlined in lights.

Everyone eagerly awaited the actual passing under the bridge to see the very top of the ship appearing to barely clear the bridge. At the point that the tip of the ship cleared the bridge deck, everyone erupted into cheers and applause. It is a very unusual bon voyage sail-away and the chills were not only due to the low temperatures in the New York Harbor. The people on the top decks to enjoy the cruise out of the New York Harbor were people with a common interest in bridges, ships and fun experiences.

Even though I took care of that item on my bucket list, I would enjoy doing it again in the summer months. I would also like to get a more powerful camera to fully document the experience. My compact camera gives a lot in convenience, but compromises a bit in the quality department. On the day we departed St. Thomas, I was able to catch the moon with a double rainbow.

We were able to see two different ice shows on board which were outstanding considering the smaller size of the rink. The skaters were really good to be able to perform on a rink of that size on a moving ship.

It was a wonderful cruise with so many great people to meet and enjoy. Cruising is an excuse to make new friends and enjoy conversations to compare lives and activities. Sorting through the pictures will take days and the memories will last a lifetime.

The Toaster

2011-11-26T10:32:00.000-05:00

When we were married in 1966, my husband's co-workers wanted to give us a wedding gift to which everyone contributed and they asked what we might like to have. I decided a toaster would be very useful and we didn't have one. They gifted us with this beauty and it has worked all these years to serve us warm, golden toast. My grandchildren don't believe me when I tell them our toaster is older than their father.

Unlike many of our household appliances that have come and gone, been discarded, or given to Goodwill, it has never needed repair. In spite of my best efforts to accidentally ruin it by dropping it during one of our moves, it still chugs along, doing what it does best. The little dent in one corner gives it a slightly distressed look, and the crack in the base of the control panel hasn't affected the toast at all.

Its design reminds me a bit of the first screen savers called "flying toasters" which I naturally used on my earliest computers. By the way, it is still available. Our toaster looks very old-fashioned, and I often wonder why don't I replace it? After all, I have replaced countless coffee makers. I added a toaster oven when they became popular because it is quick to warm rolls or bagels, or to make toasted sandwiches with cheese, etc. However, when I want a slice of toast quickly, it goes into the little slot and is quickly ready. It is faster than the toaster oven for just one slice of toast.

I keep it because it isn't just a toaster. It is a reminder of the days when the secretary (before they became administrative assistants) at work was in charge of "hearts and flowers" and everyone was a team. When someone had a special occasion, most were long-term co-workers and even though the community had some disagreements, everyone would come together to celebrate their occasions and mourn their losses. It represents a first job and the camaraderie of the office environment of yesteryear.

I'm just not ready to part with it and call me a pack rat, but as long as it works, it has a place in my kitchen. Even if it stops working, I might plant geraniums in it. Everything has its use, and I can find a use for everything. I don't like a disposable world with mountains of garbage like in the movie Wall-E. Such a cute movie and so profound. Maybe I will watch it again and see if there is a clone of our toaster in it.

A Toast

2011-11-22T14:24:00.000-05:00

As I am coming down from my sugar high of Halloween, I raise my glass to this great approaching season of wretched excess. Can't decide which among the wonderful Hallmark Holidays at the end of each year is my favorite. All of them seem to include tons of food. I've shopped for days and I'll start cooking a day early for the granddaddy of all foodie holidays--Thanksgiving.

As I watch all the specials on TV from the queens of cookery and read all the great recipes on the web, they all seem to have one thing in common--butter. And here am I, cholesterol count challenged, trying to find a way to go butterless. I love that gobbler prepared in any way that avoids butter. I have to try to include on my menu veggies and fruits--sans butter. Baked sweet potatoes or Idaho taste great with a bit of garlic,salt, onion and a smidgen of olive oil for flavor. I'll cut out that butter. Dinner rolls are great, but I will invite my guests to dip them in olive oil and hide the butter. If they're on the wheat-free diet, good on them, pass the turkey. They will like my green tossed salad with balsamic vinegar and olive oil. I have replaced butter in my diet with olive oil and spices. Butter cookies on my menu? Nope! Dessert? Maybe next year.

But wait, the most wretched excess day of the year to toast is the infamous Black Friday. Not bragging nor complaining, since I finished my Christmas shopping last week, I only need to go to the mall for a jolt of adrenaline to compete for those parking spaces and blockbuster specials at the opening of the doors. Forget that midnight opening the day of Thanksgiving. Wretched excess Walmart can count me out. Sleeping is tops on my list.

After all, I need my energy to get busy on my list that I already made and checked twice to sent greeting cards to everyone I never see or communicate with during the rest of the year. They will all want to know I'm still alive, including mandatory pictures and an audit of my year. I will have to dream up something that sounds important enough to compete with those annual letters that announce all the fabulous trips, and family accomplishments. They win.

I will deck the halls before December arrives but I refuse to contact the local TV station and ask everyone to drive through my neighborhood or compete with all the neighbors for the largest inflating lawn balloon. Ba Humbug! Here's a toast to all those tasteful people who put a candle in the window and a home-made cone wreath on the front door.

Cheers to all those children who have a blast opening tons of gifts and toys amid clouds of wrapping paper and bows that I try to bag and save to reuse. Stepping on AA batteries makes my day. Treasured memories are stored of the favorite Christmas holiday when excess reigned and gifts were endless. But wait, it's not over yet, we have the day after Christmas to shop again for better bargains than we could find before the 25th. Toasting those merchants who have our number and know we love wretched excess.

The biggest toast of the year goes to that New Year's Eve celebration when we indulge ourselves in whatever libation that suits us, we kiss while the ball drops, and we sing Auld Lang Syne--grateful to have made it through another year. Thank goodness the season is over and we have to head to the fitness centers to pay the price for our sins of wretched excess.

I personally tip my glass to the magnet on my refrigerator door that says, "The best times are together times." All the rest is just wretched excess.

A toast to everyone: May all your holidays meet your greatest expectations.

The Tale of Two Bridges--Bridge Two

2011-11-16T15:33:00.001-05:00

Bridge Two had more humble beginnings than the Royal Gorge Bridge from the previous post, and began to take shape in the spring of 1984. We dumped a bid on a building lot in a cornfield, and snapped up this wooded hillside with a tiny creek running through it. Unlike the Royal Gorge Bridge, it had no sweeping vistas, no river, no dizzying heights, but it came with work guaranteed. We had to find a way to cross the stream to build our house so the process began with buying mud boots so we could slop around in the creek and install plywood retainers to contain the creek while we built the footers and concrete abutments.

My engineer husband designed a highway-worthy bridge and we started playing with rebars and concrete to build our tiny bridge which is only about 8 feet above the little creek--not too tall, but I wouldn't want to fall off because we lined the creek with huge rocks. Occasionally, the little creek floods and looks like a river, so the concrete abutments aren't overkill. Our son and his neighborhood buds played in the creek while we worked.

After much agony and sore backs, We had two concrete abutments, topped by three painted, 17" steel I-beams.

Like the Royal Gorge Bridge, we attached wooden timbers which are 12" long, 12" wide, and 3" thick. We only needed 15, but like the Royal Gorge Bridge, they have to be regularly replaced. We don't replace them at the same pace, but to date, most have been replaced 3 or 4 times. Our deck looked like the Royal Gorge Deck, just smaller.

Ta-Da!!! We did it. The little creek flowed freely when this picture was taken and Typar lined the driveway awaiting the blacktop process. We installed two very strong pipes on either side with chains attached so that when we left the construction site of our house which was up the hillside, no one could bring in trucks to carry away construction materials. It was too far to hand carry away stuff. Every night, we locked the chain and had no problems.

These pictures are very old, as are we, and so is our little bridge. It is quite unique and we enjoy it when we aren't working on it. It is very satisfying to drive over it and remember all the work we have invested in it over the last 27 years.

In 2011, the work goes on.

This fall, we undertook a renovation of our deck to try to extend the life of the timbers. Like the Royal Gorge Bridge, our timbers are bolted to the steel beams but our spacing is a bit closer. The rain and snow weather the timbers and we wanted to protect them.

Our little creek isn't far below the bridge and is usually only a small stream. During heavy rains, it can be a raging river capable of moving huge rocks and trees.

The view under our bridge isn't as spectacular as the Royal Gorge Bridge, but we invested a lot of hard work to produce it.

Our project to protect the timbers included covering them with a triple layer of 6 mil mylar sheeting and laying tongue and groove yellow pine flooring to form a solid deck.

This is our finished project. It took about a week of nice autumn weather to complete. Our little bridge has wooden curbs along the side like the Royal Gorge Bridge, but we didn't add steel rails. I don't know if they apply water seal coats to their bridge, but we did. We first saw the Royal Gorge Bridge after we built our bridge but each time I visit it, I am amazed that our humble little bridge has so many similarities.

We once had fanciful dreams of building a covered bridge over it, but I think we'll pass on that notion. It's fun to rumble over our little bridge as we go about our lives. It is a constant part of our lives and a reminder of the worth of a hard day's work. It will probably outlive us.

The Tale of Two Bridges--Bridge One

2011-11-15T16:36:00.003-05:00

This is the Royal Gorge Bridge, built in Colorado in 1929. It is amazing that they had the means to build the world's highest suspension bridge at that time. It is a spectacular place to visit with vistas too breathtaking for words. It's not for anyone cautious of dizzying heights because it looks so fragile and so high. It is indeed a long way down to the Arkansas River--1,053 feet.

I like to include a trip to visit this amazing bridge anytime I visit the region.

Traffic can drive across the bridge from either direction or pedestrians can walk its length. Drivers are available to drive any vehicle across if its owner is the nervous sort. The size of the timbers spanning the deck aren't significant. They are three inches thick, and twelve inches wide. I'm not sure of the exact length of each board. They are bolted to the steel I-beams underneath. There are wooden curbs along the ends of the timbers, and a steel net rail attached. There is a steel framework underneath to which the wood is attached.

As I looked down and took this picture of my feet, I was amazed that I could see the steel I-beams under the wooden timbers as well as the Arkansas River very far below. It is easy to see why one might think twice about walking on this bridge or driving over it. We were assured that it was perfectly safe. I didn't have a chance to see how they replace those timbers, because some looked overdue. It must be an interesting process to see. According to their fact sheet, 250 are replaced annually.

That's a long way down for a quarter. There is a train that runs along the banks of the river. There are also white water rafters but it is so far away, it is hard to see them.

So we hopped inside this cage which runs along an aerial tram all the way to the bottom.

We wanted to get the view of the bridge from the riverbank and it is so high, it is hard to see.

Halfway back to the top, I took this picture because I could see so much of the sky between the wooden timbers on the deck. There is a lot of space between some of the timbers. It is a fabulous piece of engineering, and just a little bit scary. Very impressive.

The tale of the second bridge will follow in the near future.

Signs of Life

2011-11-04T14:59:00.000-04:00

As the seasons come and go, I see all of them through my office windows. I placed my desk in front of my triple bay windows so that I can view the great outdoors. I placed my computer monitor to the side of my desk so that it doesn't obstruct my view. The CPU is off to the opposite side of the desk so I have room to place the little trinkets, mugs and photos that are important to me. I can't imagine placing a desk to face a wall or the inside of the room with the windows behind me. I prefer spending computer time during the day when the curtains are open and I can see outside.

Wool gathering is a favorite past time so when my fingers pause on the keyboard of my computer, I can watch the leaves fluttering on the trees or glimpse the hummingbird at the feeder in front of the window. Sometimes, the deer, hawks, or a pretty red fox catch my eye so I stop whatever has my attention on the computer to thoroughly enjoy the busy world of nature outside my windows.

I notice probably more than I should about the comings and goings of my neighbors, and I see the moms and grandmoms walking the toddlers through the neighborhood. I notice when the snow is plowed, the mail and newspapers delivered, and the garbage collected. I don't sit waiting for those things to happen, but I notice any motion outside my window.

This set of windows faces north but they are triple pane which is not quite as energy-efficient as an insulated wall. Nevertheless, I love houses with lots of windows. Closed-in spaces are very boring, and depressing to me. It makes sense to me that life outside my window can be very interesting even when I am spending time at the computer.

Yes, yes--messy desk. I'm spending this week cleaning up my office and taming the piles of paper and boxes of unimportant stuff that I haven't looked at in five years. It is time to clear the room to host holiday guests and it is a good excuse to tame the clutter.

A House Without Bananas?

2011-10-20T11:55:00.003-04:00

A house without bananas sounds to me like a day without oxygen. Every morning after my exercises, I need some additional energy and it is the perfect food with no prepration required. I keep a fruit bowl filled with bananas and fruits from mangos to kiwi fruits and everything in between. My grandchildren know where to find the banana bowl for afternoon snacks when they visit.

As a preschool youngster, my family journeyed to the wake for a great aunt. There was a lot of food available, but my dad was aware of picky preschool food preferences and had brought along a large bunch of bananas. My brother and I ate those exclusively. Bananas are among the first solids for babies for very good reason. They are tasty and filling, nutritious and easy to digest. As I grew older, we made banana sandwiches with mayo on bread slices. We baked banana bread, banana puddings, banana muffins and we made banana shakes and ice cream banana splits. They are great for smoothies with strawberries and ice cream or yogurt.

Curiosity led me to explore the history of my favorite fruit and I was surprised to learn that bananas have been available in the U.S. for less than 150 years. Due to the fragility of the fruit and the distance of the countries that commonly grow bananas, it was not transported to the U.S. It was introduced in 1876 at the Philadelphia Centennial Exhibition and sold for ten cents each. I'm glad they are readily available now. Today, our bananas are grown in tropical regions in the Central and South American countries.

I can't think of a more perfect food for any occasion--camping, auto travel, a day without electricity. It's like peanut butter as an all-purpose food. It is at the top of my shopping list of staples I buy at the food store. I've probably eaten a pathway through several "banana republics." If we are what we eat, I must be at least one sixth banana and nutty as a fruitcake.

September "Walkabout"

2011-10-06T08:43:00.001-04:00

I take liberal literary license with that term "walkabout" because it is how I think of my life in September, post retirement. To me, it represents an escape from routine.

Retirement to me represents a special frame of mind that encourages impulses and flights of freedom, mentally and physically. It is like Christmas every day and dessert for every meal. When September comes each year, I give in to the impulse to celebrate my freedom because I retired from education. There were many days and ways to enjoy the profession and not a few frustrations. But I perservered for 32 years, getting up at 4:50 daily to make sure I was in the building before most teachers and students. The long hours and attention to the routine of the days, months, and years lead teachers to notice greatly when it no longer exists.

So when September rolls around, I celebrate that I can go to a museum, a beach, or travel, or read all day and drink coffee until my feet bounce on my way to the bathroom attached to my office. Teachers know what I mean when I celebrate the freedom to race to the bathroom whenever I want and as often as I want during the day. It has been said on more than one occasion that teachers have the strongest bladders due to our need to limit bathroom breaks to one or two daily.

I celebrate that I can put off the laundry for another day and change my routine to accommodate a surprise trip out to lunch with friends or a quick trip to the casino. If there is rain, I declare a rain day, put up my feet and dive into the pile of library books that wait on my coffee table.

My main rule for September Walkabout is no rules. I do anything I want and nothing that I "should" do.

All photos were taken at the Delaware Art Museum.

You Are My Sunshine

2011-10-04T08:43:00.000-04:00

We went to our granddaughter's school for Grandparents' Day and they sang "You Are My Sunshine" to us. Twenty-two six-year-old voices are really adorable. They had practiced all day and had all of the words firmly in mind. I wanted to adopt the children who were in tears because their grandparents couldn't attend. The teacher was very sensitive and put them in charge of the refreshments so they could feel important too.

The teacher had an art project for the students to produce and to present to the grandparents. It holds a place of honor on my refrigerator door with her other art projects. I always marvel at how much we worried about her and how far she has come in six years. She was a breech birth, emergency C-Section, near preemie. A few developmental problems seemed present for a few early years, but she seems to be doing very well now. She chats nonstop and uses some advanced words correctly which thrills me.

While we played on my computer last weekend, she asked me what I did with my time while she wasn't visiting. I told her that I love to read. I pointed to all the stacks of books in my office and said I loved reading all of them. I told her that I go to the public library as she does to check out more books every week. Later in the day, she showed me that she was reading a book on her mother's Nook. The new e-readers are a great developmental tool for children who are learning to read. I was amused to read the directions on the first grade wall directing new readers on how to learn to read.

I had not thought about the little song that the students sang to us in a very long time. It has greater importance to me today because my grandchildren are really my sunshine. However, even little rays of sunshine need a behavior chart in their classroom!

Prelude to Fall

2011-08-30T11:50:00.002-04:00

When the hurricane season appears and school begins, fall isn't far around the corner. As a Florida native, I thought I had left hurricanes behind when I moved to Pennsylvania. Irene was one of only a few that I have experienced in 45 years in this region. Fortunately, my personal experience wasn't as dramatic as the problems that other people encountered, but I never underestimate the power of even a category 1 hurricane or a tropical storm.

I know from experience in the South that hurricanes can be devastating so I did not object when officials and weather people warned that we should get prepared. They did a good job in preparing for the worst case scenario. It is good that the storm didn't intensify and I don't mind that I prepared more than it turned out that I needed. I would rather do that than needing something and not having prepared. I didn't feel it was "over-hyped". We were just lucky it didn't get worse. It is unfortunate that some people lost their lives and some had awful flooding problems. They probably don't think it was "over-hyped". Kudos to those responsible for emergency preparedness. I'm celebrating that it wasn't worse.

We had only a little dampness in our basement, but the whole community lost electrical power. We were lucky that it only remained off for 27 hours. We had planned to head for a motel if it stayed off for a second day. When the stores sold out of batteries in advance, we were able to order online and get them shipped overnight express. They arrived in a nick of time. We prefer using flashlights and avoiding the danger of candles, but we played scrabble by candlelight one night. It is a good reminder to appreciate the basics.

I was very nervous about our trees; fortunately, we had small branches blown down but nothing major. There was no sleep for me Saturday night and I stayed downstairs in case a tree fell on the house. Maybe the strength of the entire forest held up the trees. Isolated trees seemed to have more damage.

In an all electric house, it's good to have power again--warm showers, warm food, flushing toilets. Now that we have made it through Irene, I don't want to go through another one. We had a busy week with an earthquake and a hurricane just days apart. I was three times lucky--we made it through the earthquake with no damage, the hurricane wasn't devastating, and I won $150 at the casino.

I didn't take any pictures of the hurricane since I had used my memory cards to store videos of the house in case they were needed for insurance purposes.

August in Atlantic City

2011-08-16T12:43:00.001-04:00

We day trippers in my region find this month to be a great time to drive east to the coast and Atlantic City is the closest shore point but not as the crow flies. Southern New Jersey is expressway-challenged in the east to west directions so we Pennsylvania natives cross the nearest bridge over the Delaware River and head south-east on the Atlantic City Expressway. When traffic is good, which isn't guaranteed in the summer, it takes about an hour to drive to the coast.

Atlantic City offers beautiful, wide, well-tended beaches and is one of the few free beaches in New Jersey (Some charge for beach tags). The Atlantic Ocean has beautiful surf and nice crashing waves at times, for anyone addicted to the sounds of the shore. We like to look at beaches but find the boardwalk and the mall to be fun also. Atlantic City is very crowded during the summer with tourists on the boardwalk, in the casinos, on the beach and in the mall.

The three floor mall that stretches far into the ocean on a pier located across the boardwalk from Caesar's Hotel/Casino contains some unique shops(LeSportsac) and restaurants(Phillips Seafood). Along one side of the mall are floor to ceiling windows to overlook the ocean and the boardwalk.

Visitors can have a sanitized beach experience in air conditioned, bug-free comfort by sitting in the Adirondack chairs and sinking their bare feet into the sand. Restaurants are located behind this area so diners can enjoy their lunch and the ocean at the same time.

Entertainment is as close as the end of this mall/pier with an outside deck to view the ocean and the rows of casinos. Also at the end of the pier is an indoor dancing fountain show stretching three floors up, complete with colored lights and lively music for about seven minutes beginning every hour. Restaurants also line the boardwalk and our favorite is Pickles, open only in the summer. They serve bowls of assorted pickles for appetizers, and ten-inch tall slices of cakes for dessert. Who cares about the main course!

The casinos are a big draw for tourists, and a small part of the Atlantic City experience for us. We like to spend a half hour to an hour on a few of our favorite slots. There are so many different casinos and interesting sights, it is just part of the variety of the day. The music from the beach bars drifts up to the boardwalk and the long walk up and down the boardwalk is a never ending parade of people just walking and enjoying the weather. That is about all of the activity we can pack into a day but not the end of the many activities available with beaches and communities stretching north and south. It is never boring at the Jersey Shore.

Lucky People

2011-08-04T15:16:00.002-04:00

In the past, when we have traveled to the beach with friends and played games of chance for large stuffed toys, I'm not the person who wins. On one occasion, we were with two friends and the guy won a large purple, stuffed elephant which he and his wife stuffed behind them inside a convertible MG, vintage late 1960's, and proceeded to drive home. It was so much bigger than our friends, you had to look twice to tell that there were two humans in the front. Sorry, I didn't get a picture of it, but the mental image will never leave my memories; however that is a whole other story.

I've never considered myself to be a particularly lucky person, but upon reflection of several events in my life, maybe I am lucky. I've had a few "narrow escapes" and some time after the event, I was struck by the feeling of having escaped disaster. One particular event occurred in 1968 when hubby and I went to Estes Park, CO. We decided to try horseback riding into the hills as part of a group trip from a local ranch. We had never ridden horses before and they were very tame which was why they were used for tourists with no experience. The guides told us, "They know what they are doing, you're just along for the ride."

We rode into the mountains and the trails narrowed more and more as we ascended. Then we met another group on horseback coming back down the mountain on the same trail. Their protocol was that the group headed down the mountain got to pass to the upside on the mountain. We were passing to the outside of the trail which also was on the edge of a cliff. At one point, the horse I was riding seemed to step to the side of the trail which put his rear hoof toward the downhill side. I knew nothing about riding horses, but my natural inclination was to lean forward and shift my weight to the uphill side. The horse caught his footing, the other group had passed and we moved on up the mountain to a beautiful mountain lake as blue as the sky and as smooth as a mirror but cluttered with jagged dead wood. We let the horses drink while we relaxed and wandered around.

We returned to the stable from the mountain trail. As I handed the reins to the guide who was traveling in the rear of our caravan behind me, he said, "I thought we were going to lose you up there." I asked what he meant and he said the other group needed too much room and the horses could barely pass each other. The horse I was riding seemed to catch his balance and nothing happened, but I couldn't see this event from behind the horse I was riding. The guide saw the whole thing but said nothing until we reached home. Then I realized I could have been lying dead at the bottom of a steep cliff if the horse had lost his footing and the two of us had tumbled down the cliff. Dumb luck!

Being young and stupid, it didn't occur to me to question the unwise practice the tour group had of bringing two groups on horseback on the same trail to pass each other. I wasn't screaming my lungs out at the time, I just assumed that they knew what they were doing. It has only been in retrospect that I realize how lucky I really was. It taught me a valuable lesson to the effect that when I go on vacation, I shouldn't leave my common sense at home. I tend to apply an abundance of caution about the things I am willing to do all in the name of "having a good time". It wasn't the first time I've had a "narrow escape" but I try to minimize the number of those occasions.

Never having won "things" my greatest win has to have been my life, even though I don't even do extreme sports. I'm still alive and healthy so I am the luckiest person I know.

Life Among the Trees

2011-07-23T10:20:00.001-04:00

I live in a forest. It is similar to a rainforest with very tall trees that provide a canopy almost like a cocoon. The lush green of the leaves on our deciduous trees is always a welcome gift from nature in April after a long, cold winter. They have provided a shade over our driveway and house for 26 years. When we acquired our land to build our house, we only cut down the trees necessary for the house and driveway. It broke my heart to have to cut down a huge ash tree that grew where the driveway was planned.

In the heat of summer, our trees absorb the heat and give us a shaded relief from the hot rays of the sun. Our cocoon is usually five to ten degrees cooler than the temperatures on the street at the end of our driveway. We have learned to live with the ferns, lichen and algae that come with life among the trees. Algae grows on the brick siding, the deck, the roof and parts of the front walk and driveway. It's a small price to pay for living among trees. In the late summer, the wild cherry trees leave little purple berries on the front steps and we watch the wild birds feast on them. The red cardinals and the blue jays are a great contrast against the purple berries and green leaves.

There is always dead wood in our forest if we want to gather the hardwoods for the fireplace. If we don't gather it, the forest degrades and absorbs it. Nature turns it into rich, dark soil/compost/mulch. In the fall, when all the leaves come down, we only blow away a small part of them, away from the house and back into the woods to be recycled over the winter.

We have dappled sunlight peeking through the canopy so our house has some dark rooms during the summer, but we have become used to it. If we want a lot of light, we can walk into the sunroom where there are skylights with plenty of sun. I like to take my tea and my book to read in the sunroom. I can watch the deer, squirrels, hummingbirds, hawks and a red fox from my south windows.

Even on a still day, there seems to be constant motion among the leaves and near the tops of the trees, there is a gentle swaying. When there is a storm, the dizzying heights of our trees are a bit scary because they bend so far. I always hold my breath and hope for the best. Most of the time, life among our trees is very peaceful and quiet, but we have become very attuned to its subtle changes.

The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein is one of my favorite books.

Far, Far Away

2011-07-20T14:58:00.004-04:00

As I watch the evening news on ABC, I have to close my eyes when they report about the plight of the Somali people fleeing the unrest and war in their country to walk fifty miles to a refugee camp. It is hot and they have no food. Some refugees don't survive the trip. As I watch the evening news coverage of the Afghans struggling with oppression in their country, knowing that it won't get better when the Americans leave, not that it is what they want with us there, I shudder to think what will happen to that country. As I watch the evening news in the countries where populations are fighting for freedom against dictators, I get a scary feeling that war happens in so many places and it is a feeling of hopelessness. It isn't really far, far away and like a lot of Americans, I hope we never have to face those circumstances again in this country, and it is easy to forget we actually had wars on U.S. soil, just not in my lifetime. I wish there was something that could be done for those countries far, far away, but it doesn't benefit my health to excessively worry about the war torn countries around the world. I take the coward's way out and try to limit my exposure to the reports of war and political discord. The consequences of war to citizens everywhere is so devastating. Is it beyond human ability to learn to live on the planet in peaceful accord? Greed, intolerance, and the quest for power isn't worth the suffering it produces, in my humble opinion.

With those issues weighing heavily in the back of my mind, it was with a great deal of trepidation that I approached The Soldier's Wife by Margaret Leroy. Since it is about the period of time during World War II and I know how that turned out, I thought I would see if I could finish it without unduly stressing my sensibilities.

The Soldier's Wife is about Vivienne who lives on Guernsey, a Channel Island near the coast of France, during the years of World War II when the Germans occupied the islands.

Her husband, from the marriage that she regrets, is off at war and she is left on the island taking care of their two young daughters and his dying mother who has dementia. Vivienne worries about the war coming to the islands and her friend, Gwen, assures her "Nobody bothered with us during the Great War." World War I happened far, far away but World War II lands in their community.

She is torn between her own needs, her family duties, and her community's ideals of patriotism when several German soldiers move into the empty house next door. Vivienne struggles with daily survival and providing for the family when supplies are rationed, but is tempted into accepting coffee, and chocolates from the German soldiers. When she engages in an affair with one of the soldiers, she learns that they are just like the people on the island and don't want the war either. One is a doctor, one an architect, and she befriends a run-away prisoner of war who is a musician and maker of violins. Her lover reveals that they are just doing what they are ordered and have no more control over their lives than the people whose countries are under occupation. Her lover also points out how easily corrupted people are with power and how easy it becomes to kill others.

The Guernsey community experiences many of the cruelties of war and the uncertainty of who would win and how long they would suffer under the occupation. Vivienne survives the war and she learns she can manage on her own. Vivienne had shared with her lover a book of poetry with words by Gerard Manley Hopkins:

Heaven-Haven
A nun takes the veil

I have desired to go
Where springs not fail,
To fields where flies no sharp and sided hail
And a few lilies blow.

And I have asked to be
Where no storms come,
Where the green swell is in the havens dumb,
And out of the swing of the sea.

--Gerard Manley Hopkins

Those words come back to haunt her after the war is over. It was a predictable ending with much sadness, but the island residents are relieved when the war has left their shores. They are left picking up the pieces of their lives and hoping that war will stay far, far away.

I'm a fan of World War II books and I thought this one was a good view of struggles on the home front. I felt it necessarily pointed out that the women of wars are left picking up the pieces of society long after "peace" has been declared. Not to minimize the damages to soldiers, but the viewpoint of women shows that families and communities are also heavily damaged by these conflicts. Nobody wins. So here we are in 2011 approaching the anniversary of the Great War, World War I, which began on July 28, 1914, with how many wars currently on the boards?

They Said It Better

2011-07-18T12:18:00.000-04:00

After spending a great Sunday playing with my two grandchildren, it is a pleasant tiredness and the knowledge of time well spent.

I can't say enough about the joys of spending time with grandchildren. They are exhausting, require great patience but give the wealth of their presence. They are one of the best experiences life has to offer.

Having grandchildren is my compensation for having missed having living grandparents.

I like to read the eloquent musings of others about grandchildren and grandparents:

Do you know why grandchildren are always so full of energy? They suck it out of their grandparents. --Gene Perret

What a bargain grandchildren are! I give them my loose change, and they give me a million dollars' worth of pleasure. --Gene Perret

A grandmother is a babysitter who watches the kids instead of the television. --Author Unknown

What children need most are the essentials that grandparents provide in abundance. They give unconditional love, kindness, patience, humor, comfort, lessons in life. And, most importantly, cookies. --Rudolph Giuliani

A house needs a grandma in it. --Louisa May Alcott

Our grandchildren accept us for ourselves, without rebuke or effort to change us, as no one in our entire lives has ever done, not our parents, siblings, spouses, friends - and hardly ever our own grown children. --Ruth Goode

When a child is born, so are grandmothers. --Judith Levy

Being grandparents sufficiently removes us from the responsibilities so that we can be friends. --Allan Frome

When grandparents enter the door, discipline flies out the window. --Ogden Nash

If I had known how wonderful it would be to have grandchildren, I'd have had them first. --Lois Wyse

Grandfathers are for loving and fixing things. --Author Unknown

The reason grandchildren and grandparents get along so well is that they have a common enemy. --Sam Levenson

Grandchildren are God's way of compensating us for growing old. --Mary H. Waldrip

If nothing is going well, call your grandmother. --Italian Proverb

Grandmother-grandchild relationships are simple. Grandmas are short on criticism and long on love. --Author Unknown

Grandparents are there to help the child get into mischief they haven't thought of yet. --Gene Perret

I like to do nice things for my grandchildren - like buy them those toys I've always wanted to play with. --Gene Perret

A grandmother pretends she doesn't know who you are on Halloween. --Erma Bombeck

My grandchild has taught me what true love means. It means watching Scooby-Doo cartoons while the basketball game is on another channel. --Gene Perret

Nobody can do for little children what grandparents do. Grandparents sort of sprinkle stardust over the lives of little children.--Alex Haley

Elephants and grandchildren never forget. --Andy Rooney

Background Music

2011-07-15T12:32:00.000-04:00

I love music as much as anyone. I like a great variety of music--fast, slow, vocals, instrumentals, classical, or modern. When I listen to music, I really listen to it and enjoy it. I like hearing music in shops, elevators, or places like art museums. I'm not demanding about the kind of music played, I enjoy it if it is appropriate and not overpowering.

When I hear music in movies or on TV shows, it isn't the main reason I watch the movie or program. A lot of TV shows and movies have great themes like I remember from the old programs from the sixties that everyone recognizes such as Peter Gunn, Mr. Lucky, Hawaii Five-O or the Pink Panther. The most recent theme that I have really enjoyed has been the intro music to Southland, a TV series broadcast on TNT, and it has been renewed for a fourth season. The photos in the intro are as haunting as the music and sets a perfect mood for the drama to follow. It's a great intro.

When I watch a movie, or a TV show, I want to hear the dialogue and the music should be in the background. That seems to have been reversed for some weird reason that I fail to understand. I know music sets a mood and contributes to the atmosphere of the action. When music is so loud and overpowering, it is no longer in the background. Usually there is a lot of action and you can't see the actors' faces sometimes to try to figure out the words they are saying. Their lips are moving but all you can hear is the dramatic music. Then there are the actors who don't move their lips and seem to talk like ventriloquists. No, I don't need hearing aids--I have perfect hearing.

When I was in school plays, we were instructed to articulate, to speak clearly and project, and not to mumble. People have become so used to modern technology, they seem to have forgotten to articulate, enunciate, and not mumble. Unless a performer is a ventriloquist, they need to move their lips. Not even the best microphone in the world is going to clean up mumbled dialogue.

Note to Flashpoint staff: I don't need blasting drums and horns to tell me that a swat team is about to shoot someone if they don't give up the hostages.

Remember the first Hawaii Five-O? I don't remember having to shout "Turn off the music--I can't hear the actors."

Memo to Combat Hospital music mixer: We all know it takes place in a war zone. MASH managed to let us hear the dialogue and we were better for it. They never needed to cover the dialogue with sounds of bombs and enough panic music that we needed ear plugs. It needs to be Background Music. If we can't hear the dialogue, why would we want to watch?

Back to my previous mention of the Southland intro and theme song. This video is of the original music:

Canção Do Mar is a Portuguese song (meaning “Song of the Sea”) by Dulce Pontes

Four Hours and a Camera

2011-06-28T13:21:00.002-04:00

Note:This slide show is best viewed Full Screen--click the double window on the task bar above and beside the words "Make a PhotoShow".

This is a photoshow that I put together from pictures that I took on a visit to Longwood Gardens last weekend.
I first visited Longwood Gardens in Kennett Square, Pennsylvania in the summer of 1967 and took along a small box camera which greatly frustrated me. I still go to roam the gardens often and there is always the constant camera (with many updated models later) that frustrates me because I want pictures that make me want to jump inside and live in them. It is such a privilege to live so near this treasure of nature, we visit often and take many, many pictures. Then we want bigger and better cameras.

The gardens make a great subject so I can work on lighting and shutter speed and composition. I think I need an SLR with 18 plus megapixels. My little 12 megapixel Nikon fits nicely in a purse, but has limitations. I'm still learning and the greatest challenge to me is to hold a camera still and half depress the button to take a picture so I can see if the camera will focus properly before continuing to take the picture. The professionals get a tripod permit but I dislike taking that much equipment. I'm visiting to enjoy the scenery as well as to take a few photos. So I compensate by leaning on the nearest tree.

The gardens have a great variety of lighting situations which challenge a photographer to try to coax the best result from any camera. Beyond the challenges of the camera itself, photography composition takes great artistic talent that doesn't seem part of my practical nature. I recently saw a photo of a row of white orchids taken on a white background and the purple markings in the center leaped off the photograph. I would never have imagined a white background to have been so effective. Composition is a great challenge to the non-artists. I love flowers so any picture of a flower in focus makes me happy.

Rest in Peace

2011-06-24T08:33:00.002-04:00

Muyil

I see that after 1,500 undisturbed years, archaeologists have sneaked a camera into another ancient Mayan Tomb. It certainly dispels the notion of "final resting place." Nothing is final. Modern civilization has plundered ancient tombs around the world. I question how valuable it is to loot yet another tomb. If they have dropped a camera into it, how far behind is a tourist bus with hundreds of hot, bored vacationers listening to Mayan tour guides telling them that their ancestors were a peaceful nation who loved Mother Earth and prayed for successful crops? Yes, the ancients produced art on the stone walls as a tribute to their dead, but do we really need to see it? Is nothing sacred? In this country, it would require a court order to enter a grave site that is less than two hundred years old. Do we value our more recent ancestors more than the ancient ones?

Tulum

I can understand the quest of archaeologists to study civilizations of the past and understand how mankind has developed thereby building their professional creds. How many tombs do we need to study? It seems that the answer is if we find one, we will break into it. The discovery of such a treasure trove will undoubtedly make a feather in the cap of an ambitious archaeologist and provide fodder for another Indiana Jones movie. It will produce more articles on Wikipedia so researchers can write more scholarly articles about the supposed lives of the ancients.

I am leery of the treasure hunters who just want to find anything valuable in tombs so they can sell it and profit. Naturally, I imagine they would argue that removing gold, jewels and valuables from tombs is a legitimate enterprise. Why should valuables gather dust in an ancient tomb? Why should ship wrecks house tons of gold and jewels? There is a museum waiting to display those gold coins and mummies so we have some place to spend a Sunday afternoon.

More questions than answers and it leads me to wonder where I would want to park my bones. It is a question that we all face and some of us have definite decisions and for some of us no decision is our decision. I can think of one person who knew exactly where she wanted to be buried and her wishes were fulfilled. I know another person who couldn't decide so the children decided on a final burial location. I know someone who chose cremation and ashes to be scattered on a golf course. "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust." It made me wonder who was on the eighteenth green of the U.S. Open.

I don't think most people in this country still have the same reverence for the dead that the ancients displayed. As populations explode, we have to make more practical arrangements for disposing of those "dearly departed" folks. Now I will find spam from a funeral home in my e-mail telling me that I need to reserve a spot for my bones and pay them five thousand dollars forthwith. I'm not such a control freak that I even care what happens to my bones, certainly not enough to pay anyone five thousand dollars so I get the final decision in the matter.

Christmas in June

2011-06-16T09:01:00.001-04:00

My passion for lighthouses can be found on various shelves and on walls around my house. When my grandchildren visit, they like to collect the little figurines and look at them. They are fascinated by the notion of someone walking up the steps into the structure and climbing to the top.

This little Christmas decoration caught my eye years ago and was added to my collection. When I put it on display this past season, I haven't been able to put it away. When the grandchildren come to visit, they expect it to be on the window seat so they can plug it into the wall plug and turn on its interior lights.

My grandson likes to take his dish of goldfish crackers to the window seat and look at the lighthouse. He walks his tiny fingers up the front steps and pretends to walk inside the lighthouse and up to the top. His pretend activities make me wonder what he is thinking and how he imagines himself inside the lighthouse.

Since both of my grandchildren are fascinated with climbing up and down a spiral staircase that we have in a back room in our house, I think they have imagined that it is how one would climb to the top of a lighthouse. When they play with the figurine, they will then go to the spiral steps and climb up and down. I wonder if they imagine how it would look from inside the lighthouse.

The latest lighthouse we visited was in Cape May, New Jersey. This beauty looked so serene and 217 steps later, I considered it a monster.

The view was worth the climb. This is the southern point of New Jersey. The Cape May-Lewes Ferry is a local attraction that takes people and vehicles across the Delaware Bay to Lewes, Delaware in either direction or round trip if you have the time. They will even host your wedding if you're so inclined. Birthday parties also are possible.

Cutting, and cutting, and cutting

2011-06-14T12:26:00.007-04:00

Walking on an outdoor track that snakes around a soccer field in my township is a favorite activity. Today had a beautiful morning with low temperatures and humidity. My walk was marked by the cheering birds and disturbed by the roaring yard-wide lawn mowers that were cutting around the soccer field while blowing dust and dirt everywhere. As I drive around my neighborhood, it is obvious that there is too, too much grass being tended in this area from April through October. Lawn mowers roar everywhere and there are acres and acres of grass growing around public properties and private properties that seem to need constant cutting. Thousands and thousands of gallons of gasoline are being used to maintain manicured lawns, fields and everywhere I look. Why do we need to maintain so much grass? Yes it is pretty, but so are trees and they give more than they take.

I'm all in favor of xeriscaping with rocks, native plants, ornamental grasses, ground covers and islands of no-mowing zones. It is encouraging to see lawns removed and replaced in an environmentally-friendly landscaping that does not require pesticides, fertilizers, excessive water usage, and gasoline for mowers and trimmers.

Living in the woods is a choice we made when we bought our property. We didn't clear our land of trees to build the house. We cleared only enough for the house, and driveway. We have a small strip of grass around the house and it requires only about one or two gallons of gas from the end of April to the end of October to cut it. We have a lot of the ground cover pachysandra on our property. It requires no maintenance other than controlling where it spreads if we desire to do that. Pachysandra requires no fertilizer, no watering, no cutting and it isn't tasty to the white-tailed deer that live in our woods.

We have rocks placed in strategic spots and islands of beds of this prolific plant. If a new bed is needed, it is so easy to transplant. All that is needed is to pull up a handful of it including roots, and move it elsewhere to bury it under a little soil. A little water for the first season is enough to get it started and it will do the rest. It fills in and needs no further TLC. It seems to not mind lots of leaves from the trees on it during the fall, and steadfastly endures the snow. By April each year, it has perked up and started blooming the tiny white blooms it puts out in the spring.

I'm giving a lot of thought to further eliminating lawn areas near our house and substituting with mulched walks and gravel covered beds or beds with more ornamental grasses and ground covers. We have so many rocks around our yard that our friends have dubbed us "Boulder Acres".

Not a Native

2011-06-10T12:38:00.002-04:00

With our annual July 4th Independence Day celebration on the near horizon, I've noticed that it is a big deal in this region. I was born in Florida, so I'm not a native of Pennsylvania, but since I have lived in the region for 44 years, I tend to take it for granted. I'm like the New Yorker who has forgotten about the Statue of Liberty. Specifically, I live in southeastern Pennsylvania near Philadelphia, and when someone asked me about the area, I said I live in the Northeast, or as some would say, The Mid-Atlantic States--South of New England, north of the Carolinas. I appreciate many things about my adopted state.

The weather is very tolerable most of the time with few extremes. We hear a lot about the Delaware Valley relative to our weather with the Delaware River located to the East and the mountains to the north and west. It creates a little cradle that has fairly moderate weather.We have four seasons, sometimes a deep snowfall, but only a few tornadoes. We have no earthquakes of significance, only a few brush fires in the pine barrens of New Jersey, and the occasional hurricane that survives this far north brings diminished winds and some rains. I have no complaints about our weather and wouldn't move because of it. Many other places have worse weather and disasters that are hard on the population.

The senior population finds pluses in the low state income tax and no taxes on pensions. We like to shop in nearby DE where there is no sales tax. Property taxes vary by area. In the 'burbs, the school taxes can be steep. Seniors can find the best medical care available in the country in this area. Colleges and universities are numerous and some offer either free or discount classes that seniors can attend. College students can find the best college education in their own back yard.

The crime rate isn't zero, but the bank robberies are few and the gangs and illegal drugs aren't a big consideration in the 'burbs. There is crime everywhere, but common sense goes a long way. Walking alone at 3 AM isn't advisable anywhere. There is public transportation, but in this particular sprawling metropolitan area, people tend to drive their own vehicles unless heading to a sports event in Philly, or heading to nearby N.Y., Baltimore or D.C. Major commuter lines are available and link the routes between D.C. and Boston. We don't use public transportation because it is time-consuming and inconvenient for us.

There are many major league sports teams in Philly for anyone who likes that kind of thing. A major international airport is south of the city and within thirty minutes driving time for us when we travel. Other major airports are also available within driving distance. The Atlantic coast is as close as an hour or two driving time along N.J., Delaware and Maryland beaches. Atlantic City is an easy drive any time we want to gamble or see the beach or a major entertainer.

A tourist could find many sights of interest. The historical Independence Hall of Philadelphia where our country's Declaration of Independence was crafted and signed is pretty high on the list of important places to visit. The historical area of the city contains the Betsy Ross House, an Edgar Allen Poe house, Elfreth's Alley and Christ Church where the famous Ben Franklin is buried along with four other signers of the Declaration of Independence. The nation's historical development produced commemorative places like Gettysburg battlefield, Valley Forge and assorted other battlefields. The predominate architecture of the region is "Early American".

One industrious village of note called Batsto Village lies in the pine barrens of Southern New Jersey and it played an important role during the American Revolutionary War. At the time, it produced "bog ore" for iron works along with a number of other successful businesses. It is maintained as a museum village with working artisans doing glass works, pottery, iron making and lumber cutting. Rumored to have harbored some spies (including Benedict Arnold) during that period of time in the middle 1700's, it is an intriguing place to roam and imagine life during the time.

A major attractive point of this area would have to be its easy proximity to places like New York City, Philadelphia, Baltimore and Washington, D.C. All are easy day trips by car. We have all of their benefits and none of their problems.

The theme of "popular" was proposed by the oneminutewriter.blogspot.com. It caught my attention because I detest the word and its implications of pleasing other people just to build one's ego. How needy can people be that they seek to be popular to other people? I feel very independent and conformity doesn't appeal to me. I think of the word in terms of human relationships rather than how the word is used in relation to other choices such as which products we choose to buy or which books we choose to read or which movies we choose to view. It is just a word that indicates many have made the particular choice so that something becomes called "popular".

Of course as teenagers, everyone wanted to be "popular" but it was a shallow goal. It was a temporary setting and wanting to be included is normal, but doing things to make oneself fit in can become the road to ruin. Anytime we compromise our own values, we aren't admired but used. Being able to make choices freely is what our country is all about. We don't like predetermined decisions forced upon us.

When I was a teenager, I liked to observe the confident people who seemed to have a goal for the future in mind and pursued it to the exclusion of the need to "run with the popular crowd". I admired those people who kept their own counsel and chose their own path. Those were the days before the independent thinkers became the targets of the bullies of the "in crowd". There is great pressure today to conform and fit into the norm of the particular locale. It almost seems like an effort to hold people back so the oppressors don't have to compete. In my opinion, people worry too much about what other people think.

The dreaded class reunions are a lesson to all of us that the "popular" crowd doesn't necessarily deal well with life beyond high school popularity pursuits. I am speaking in generalities based on my own life experiences and I prefer not to get into the specifics of various relationships from my own teenage years. It just isn't even important enough to me to even recount those incidents. Needless to say, I never felt it necessary to pursue the concept of being "popular". I make my own choices for whatever reasons seem right to me, not because someone has determined that it is the "popular" choice. I have been accused of not being a "team player" and that is probably true. I march to my own drummer.

A New Generation

2011-06-06T18:30:00.002-04:00

I observe the comportment (what an archaic term) of the younger generation under 20 due to my many years in education, no matter whether I see them in stores, at sports events, in airports, and this week on a cruise that sailed from Port Canaveral in Florida on the massive Freedom of the Seas.

It is very encouraging to see a little one coaxed through an hour at a dinner table without disturbing the other diners. The five to one ratio could have been a key. When a two-year-old is cuddled and encouraged by a set of parents, a set of grandparents, and a favorite uncle, it produces remarkable results. When she was happy and doing well, she sat at the table in a booster seat. If she got upset, someone quickly and quietly removed her from the room until she settled down before they returned to the table.

It is impressive when a sixteen year-old-arrives at a breakfast dining table sans parents, politely introduces himself, engages the adults at the table in mature conversation, and displays table manners to make a mom proud. Even when leaving the table, he shook the hands of the adults present at the table. Wow!

I probably shouldn't venture a guess for the reasons why the kids on board were so calm, engaging, mannerly and pleasant as we shared a vacation space. Ordinarily we would try to avoid excessive contact with youngsters on vacations but this experience was very positive.

On one occasion we were on an elevator with two teenagers who opened a conversation with us. I was impressed with their composure and ability to joke and converse with strangers. They were very friendly, poised and confident.

The generation under 20 has grown up with "social networking" and technology so it wasn't surprising to see how at ease a five-year-old was with the large board interactive touch screens on each deck where they could search the screens for locations of the pool, theater, shops, dining, or the wave rider.

Certainly credit is due for the extensive youth activity program provided by Royal Caribbean (which also has a curfew for the youth) but I suspect the quality of parenting is to be commended. I would like to think that the input of dedicated educators played a role also in the behavior of youth that I observed during the week.

The minors on board seemed to have had many travel opportunities and were sophisticated by a great variety of cultural experiences in their young lives; some could switch languages with ease. The parents seemed to be from the upper socioeconomic and educational ranks and to have brought along their progeny with an enviable richness of experiences.

We were a bit concerned when we learned that we were booked next to a family of two adults and four "minors". Turns out they were late teens/early twenties young adults who occasionally were on their balcony and we could hear their relaxed, mature conversations. There was no loud, raucous noise, no drunken parties--just young people on vacation with parents.

It is a warm, fuzzy moment to observe that the younger generation has stepped up to the plate and many are more than capable of managing the world of today. At least some parents and educators have done a commendable job. It was a very enjoyable vacation.

Bel-Air Dead

2011-05-24T13:48:00.001-04:00

In Stuart Wood's Bel-Air Dead, there is something comforting in finding what you're looking for. It is liking putting on a comfortable slipper to slide into the head of lawyer, Stone Barrington, beginning with a Knob Creek bourbon and schmoozing with the regulars in Elaine's Restaurant (with a dedication to the late Elaine Kaufman, who loved writers and famous people) in New York City. Naturally, there's murder involved, new private jets, people with lots of money buying new stuff and spending lots of their money. Escapism works for me--I can't relate to any of that stuff. I am vicariously rich.

He solves the murders, gets a new partnership, and lots more money. What more could a reader want in 300 pages? Stone Barrington has more unsafe sex and we try to overlook their disregard for the obvious. So why do I keep reading this pulp fiction? I know what to expect and I don't have to worry about some vulnerable creature getting offed in a frightening way or a twisted mind torturing someone. It's plain, old-fashioned greed and lust for power. I need to know how the rich and famous spend their lives so I can know what to avoid when I win the lottery. I can deal with that.

It's a business/legal drama, minus the courtroom. Stone isn't really a courtroom lawyer, he's a deal maker. His buddy and cop friend, Dino Bacchetti comes along for the ride to Bel-Air so Stone has someone to talk to and to advance the plot. Stone needs someone else with a gun too, so they can do double dates and solve murders with fellow cops in faraway places. It makes gathering information so much cozier when there is a friend on a police force across the country who can provide just the clues needed to solve murders and unravel suspicious connections. Other old acquaintances from past books pop in to update the reader on the current state of their lives or to suggest plots for their next editions. I don't think this will be the last of the Stone Barrington, et all, adventures.

The buying and selling of houses, properties, jets, companies and throwing around of vast sums of money at a dizzying pace keeps the reader moving so fast that it is a quick read. It's really great stuff for a beach read between dips in the water and the afternoon nap. Stuart Woods can keep 'em coming 'cause I'm not tired of them yet.

Live in a photograph

2011-05-23T12:01:00.000-04:00

Live in a photograph?

I don't live in a photograph.
My curtains are out of date.
My carpets need cleaning.
My clutter is to die for.
My dust says "I keep".

If only I had a million bucks.
I would buy new furniture.
I would re-paint the walls.
I would buy zippy shades.
I would vaaazze cut flowers.

Alas, my humble abode is my castle.
Warts and all, it makes me relax.
Horizontal surfaces beg for more paper.
I fear Better Homes and Gardens.
The computer beckons.

Meditation

2011-05-17T09:22:00.003-04:00

In the lastest research on length of life and the clues found in the length of telomeres, we are told that perhaps exercise and meditation can lengthen those telomeres. Who doesn't want to live longer? I don't necessarily want to take a blood test to predict my life length. The only important thing to me is trying to control whatever I can and do the best I can within reason to improve the quality and length of my life.

Okay, I exercise, and I have my own way of relaxing and coping, but I've never tried what's formally called Meditation. I've read the "how to" articles, but I find a few things that wouldn't work for me. I am short and never sit with my legs pulled into a "lotus" position. I don't want to restrict my circulation so I would have to sit in a chair. I'm not a chanter either. I would have to work on other approaches. I could find any number of words on which I could concentrate or chant to myself, but not aloud. Even so, my mind wanders.

I already spend a portion of my day exercising, so adding another life-extending activity seems questionable. I begin to question the quality of a life spent only trying to extend it--to what purpose? Doing more to keep extending it? When is there time to enjoy life and "smell the roses"? I look for balance in life as a Libra, which is neither here nor there, but it does seem that there is a "tilt" point in overdoing anything.

I wonder how others feel about meditation and how it fits into their busy lives. How do they manage the details of the process? In times past, I have tried the idea of trying to achieve the "state of zero" which I find difficult to do. I will have to do some research and find some imput from people who meditate successfully. I always like to hear what works for others.

Buried Prey

2011-05-16T12:27:00.001-04:00

In Buried Prey, this latest John Sandford drama features his favorite main character, policeman "hunter" of bad guys, Lucas Davenport, who revisits a cold case from his past. Victims of a case he had worked on early in his career are discovered and reinforces his guilt of having mishandled the case due to his inexperience. He had to leave the case unsolved. He feels a lot of responsibility to hunt down criminals to prevent additional victims. He seems haunted by the additional victims of the perpetrator from the cold case. Lucas is a smart guy who writes computer simulations on the side and likes puzzles. So he sees his job as a "hunt" to find killers to protect the public.

The main character is a very likeable creation with laudable motivations who works on overcoming his inner conflicts. He's a strong, "guy's guy" who gets along well with co-workers even when he disagrees with them. The character manages to be loyal to his family, protect them and he tries to find a modicum of normalcy in the middle of the madness of the job he does so very well. His continuing relationship with his adopted daughter, Letty, who was a little "toughie" for whom he developed a soft spot and rescued in a previous novel, is especially endearing.

The preceding twenty "Prey" novels follow the career of Lucas Davenport and show a great progression in character development from one novel to the next. He just gets more and more likeable. I highly recommend reading the whole series from the beginning because the trip is worth the time. John Sandford is at the top of my list of favorite authors and the consummate professional. The plot development and the fictional world he spins together gets and keeps my attention. The other supporting characters are equally interesting and Virgil Flowers is an entertaining co-worker about whom four novels have been written.

John Sandford (John Camp) lives and works in Minnesota, a place I've never visited. I especially enjoy how he sets a scene with descriptions that make me feel I have actually seen the places. I appreciate how he can describe the weather and nature. He comes from the field of journalism and his attention to detail slows me from my usual speed reading to savor his descriptive sentences. I've enjoyed every book I've read by John Sandford.

Beaches Well Loved

2011-05-14T10:30:00.003-04:00

As springtime segues into summer and Memorial Day approaches, the need for a beach becomes a craving to be satisfied only by grainy sand and warm, salty breezes. The sounds of the seagulls and the crashing waves from far away storms at sea echo from years past.

It's time to find an old swimsuit that fits, or find a new one that reminds me that I can still wear a swimsuit without inciting a trail of giggles. The lure of the waves is too compelling to avoid. Fill the beach bag with the latest thriller plot, sunscreen smelling of coconut oil, a bag for seashells, and a beach towel bigger than I. Those over-sized, Jackie O. sunshades are a must. A dermatologist-approved sunhat, sand chair, and umbrella complete the supplies.

Hours must be spent gazing at rolling waves of surf. Walks in racing foam on hot sand yields shells of mysterious sea life. Thinking of nothing for days on end renews the spirit more than a good night's sleep. The lazy days of lounging, napping, reading and sun gazing are rewards for a year well-spent.

Who Are These People?

2011-04-21T14:10:00.001-04:00

Why are these strangers in my pictures taken at Longwood Gardens? After visiting Longwood Gardens in Kennett Square, PA, numerous times for over 44 years, I have concluded that taking pictures of flowers can become more interesting when including the pictures of the many people who also enjoy the flowers. It becomes a group experience even when people are strangers. It is a great opportunity to strike up a conversation with anyone because almost everyone in the gardens shares a love of nature and exquisitely manicured displays.

As I took a picture of this rare blue orchid, another visitor said, "Sorry, I ruined your picture." I replied to him, "Not to worry, I crop everything." It was the opening to a conversation while a group marveled at the special techniques they used to get the orchid to soak up blue dye to produce the effect not found in nature. Yes, I could crop everything in my photos, but it spoils the total view to try to exclude the other people enjoying the gardens and the flowers. It would be like trying to exclude the fans in the football stadium and taking a picture only of a football.

Everyone has cameras and often take turns photographing friends and family in front of special displays. We volunteer to take pictures of others so the whole group can share the picture. It is an easy way to interact with new people.

Eavesdropping is fun because the number of languages spoken is fascinating as the Gardens are a must-see attraction on any regional tours, and traffic clogs local highways on special occasions. It is a good opportunity to play good-will ambassador for the region and to be friendly to people from other countries.

I still like to take close-up pictures of flowers, but sometimes it is more fun to photograph a toddler sniffing a blossom. The children's section of the garden is always filled with little people playing in water spouts or kissing dragon noses.

When I look at pictures of the gardens minus people, it seems sterile and sad. I like to see dozens of people moving around the gardens enjoying the hard work of countless volunteers who plant the flowers and tend the outdoor gardens. So I take many pictures of plants with many people enjoying them. The Gardens are a regular stop for my family because we live so close and the variety of activities makes it appealing.

We have member passes and visit as often as we want during the year. There are some special events for members and some events have special admissions tickets. It would be easy to take this entertainment venue for granted, but I haven't reached that point. Just when I think I have seen everything, they surprise me with something new like this harp concert.

No matter the event or display, what a great place to spend a day! The kite display was very popular.

Their tulips compete with the best in the world, even those from Holland.

Don't Judge Me

2011-04-14T15:12:00.002-04:00

Don't judge me. You don't want to go to the places I've been, or see the things I have seen. My life isn't an open book because no one should know the things I've learned. This journey through life has gathered many burdens and the load gets so heavy, at times parts of it must be unloaded. I grieve for the ones who carelessly tossed those burdens to me and I grieve for the ones to whom I unthinkingly toss those burdens. Why do those burdens even exist? Who invented them and dumped them on humans? Questions that shall forever be unanswered. Walt Kelly who drew the cartoon strip "Pogo" wrote, "We have met the enemy and he is us."

If I could fix this mess we call "life as we know it," I would. I wish I could wave a magic wand and make all the sorrows go away. I wish I could smile on people and make them love other people. I wish I could make everyone empowered and happy. I wish I could make everyone have everything they ever wanted without it bringing them more problems.

Alas, it is not to be. We all muddle through, cursing the worst and loving the best. When we are gone from this plane, it will continue as before--the pushing and shoving; the quest to be--me first.
--Musings from R.J.

"Anguish" a drawing by Bruce Sommer is the lament of a soldier who served 22 months in Vietnam. The original was donated by his widow to the sister of another Vietnam Vet who committed suicide. She donated it to the National Vietnam Veterans Art Museum in Chicago. It has a fascinating story.

The Fifth Witness

2011-04-14T11:28:00.010-04:00

I was eager to get my hands on Michael Connelly's latest Mickey Haller (The Lincoln Lawyer) legal thriller called The Fifth Witness. I finished it yesterday after racing through it while procrastinating on the cleaning, and laundry but I remembered to eat!

I had to giggle because he fooled me again with another zinger. I love his plots with the twists and turns and I like how he leaves a trail of hints of possible guilt for various possible criminals. Motive, Means, Opportunity--All the parts of the puzzle were available but the pieces didn't fit until the end. That is a compliment considering that Michael Connelly says in an interview with Amazon that he doesn't outline his books in advance. This book, he says, began as a police detective point of view and after a hundred pages, he started over, and switched it to a defense attorney's story. The main character, Mickey Haller, is defending a victim of the mortgage foreclosure disaster who is accused of murdering an employee of the bank that has foreclosed on her home. It explores how banks granted poorly secured mortgages, bundled the mortgages and sold them to large banks, who then foreclosed and turned them over to collection corporations owned by partners connected to organized crime. It just reinforced my beef with banks that build branches on every corner in my neighborhood and charge me to take out funds in my account if I go to the bank that isn't mine. In the day of computers, why do they need so many brick and mortar establishments? I digress.

I had one tiny problem with the details in the book. The murder weapon is noticed to be missing from a garage pegboard where it is a part of a set. Who keeps tools on a pegboard which is outlined, labeled and neatly hanging where they belong like a picture from a Sears advertisement? Hubby has his share of "Tool Time" Craftsman boy toys, but they are kept in tool chests with drawers and in no particular order. People who use tools seem to be more interested in using than in displaying them. I've heard it said, "Show me a clean desk and I'll show you someone who gets nothing done." Nevertheless, it is fiction, and works within the plot to mislead the reader into thinking Some Other Dude Done It.

I'm a big fan of Castle on ABC and saw Michael Connelly on the 4/11/2011 episode as a member of Castle's poker group. His advice to a new author with one successfully published legal thriller was: "When I had my first published hit, I shut up and wrote 23 more books." In past episodes, he has commented, "You only wrote one book this year?" He is a tough taskmaster and his hard work on his books produces very readable, enjoyable plots.

I like to be fooled and this plot succeeded. I was totally suckered into the client's story and the end blew me away, no pun intended. Well done! It makes me think Matthew McConaughey has another Lincoln Lawyer movie on the horizon. I am eagerly anticipating Michael Connelly's next book called The Drop (Harry Bosch), due in October, 2011.

Darkness--Part 2

2011-04-07T08:51:00.000-04:00

Complete darkness in the bedroom seems to be working very well. All lined curtains have been closed at night, windows have been blacked out at night with black-out liners. All doors are closed at night and all LED lights have been covered with cardboard flaps. There are no night lights on all night. I have a flashlight on my night stand in case I want to ~~head~~ walk to the bathroom.

Having taken all of those steps to have complete darkness in the bedroom, I have discovered that I still regularly wake up two or three times per night. The difference is that when one sleep cycle ends, and I come out of a deep sleep, the room is so dark that I doze briefly, then go back to sleep. Because the room is very dark, my brain seems to know it isn't time to wake up so I go back to sleep.

My mind doesn't seem to start the laundry list of things I think about during the day and doesn't try to solve all the world's problems before five a.m. I don't lie awake watching the trees outside the window swaying in the breeze. I don't look at the full moon shining through the skylight in the bathroom. My sleep cycles are continuous rather than constantly interrupted. I was interested to read the discussion of sleep stages analysis online and this statement was especially enlightening:

Older people are more easily awoken by disturbances in the environment^[63] and may to some degree lose the ability to consolidate sleep.

When my son was an infant, he would wake up completely several times per night and wouldn't go back to sleep without attention. We had a night light in the hallway so I wouldn't trip going to his room. There was never complete darkness in his room. We used to talk about his inability to put himself back to sleep between sleep cycles, but we didn't make his room completely dark. Parents of infants fear that it will unnecessarily alarm small children to awake in a dark room. It makes me wonder. Maybe we did more harm than good. The angst of parents.

And Let There Be Darkness

2011-04-02T09:43:00.000-04:00

After experiencing a lot of insomnia at various times and blaming it on caffeine, or too much liquid before bedtime, or menopause, I am willing to consider a different cause and solution. I am not a person who would even consider taking a sleeping pill because I can't imagine deliberately rendering myself unconscious and helpless. I wonder how I could survive something like an unexpected housefire, a break in, a bad storm, or any number of other catastrophic events that would require me to wake up and manage my survival. No sleeping pills for me. The only leap of faith I am willing to take is in case of medical procedures that require sedation.

A new solution for managing my insomnia has become necessary because I often find myself wide awake at two or three in the morning and often for several hours. The master bedroom in my house has two side windows and a large trio of windows in the front since it is a corner room. The neighboring houses are not really close, but I have begun to notice that outdoor lights from the two houses that we can see from that room are turned on at strange hours.

If we have snow on the ground, the reflections coming into the front windows are so bright, we have to close the curtains. A skylight in the adjoining bathroom lets in so much light when there is a full moon, it is like daytime so the door must be closed. One neighbor has a garage on the same side as our bedroom and they have outdoor lights turned on almost all night so the two windows must have closed curtains. Even so, there is too much light in the bedroom. The curtains have linings, but not for complete darkness. I will now have to install blackout shades to get complete darkness in the room for effective sleeping. I don't think I want to wear a sleep mask.

The movie Insomnia comes to mind because the main character is going a little crazy because he can't sleep in Alaska where the daylight hours continue for much of the 24 hours. The bedrooms require blackout shades for people to sleep.

A little research tells me that complete darkness in a bedroom is required for effective sleeping. Melatonin has to be produced in the brain for healthy, sound sleep and that only happens in a room that is completely dark. It is worth a try; it is time to make our bedroom completely dark with blackout shades and it won't matter whether my neighbors leave their garage lights on until 3 a.m.

Lincoln Lawyer

2011-03-27T11:03:00.001-04:00

Usually it is easy to wait for new movies to be released on DVD. The Lincoln Lawyer was an exception. It was a great opportunity to go to dinner and a movie with friends with whom we share great enthusiasm for the books of Michael Connelly and the movies, especially those starring Matthew McConaughey. Even at a cost of $7.50 senior prices per person, it was a worthwhile experience.

Mickey Haller is the likeable central character who maximizes his time by running his law practice from the back seat of his Lincoln Continental towncar while being driven from one case to another. The movie does the book justice and reveals many flaws in our criminal justice system. Haller brushes shoulders daily with the seedy side of humanity and tries to bring them justice while sometimes having to trade on their particular skills. When he draws a case from the "upper crust", he discovers the two sides of society overlap in ways he hadn't anticipated. Deal making is a constant in his practice. Without revealing the intriguing twists of the plot, the conclusion is particularly satisfying.

I liked the fast pace, the clever dialogue, and the interesting relationships between the accused and those involved in upholding the justice system. I perceived an interesting tribute to those in the legal system, and law enforcement due to the vulnerablity of their friends and family as they try to uphold the law and see that the innocent is not wrongly accused and the guilty is justly incarcerated. I liked seeing the uncertainty of Haller in his ability to judge who is telling the truth and who is lying. When he feels he has the proof he needs to handle a case appropriately, his skill in making the most of the system is amazing to watch.

I hope it is the beginning of more movies of the character Mickey Haller because Michael Connelly has four books to date with this major character. Matthew McConaughey plays the role of Mickey Haller like it was written with him in mind. The other members of the cast were also well-chosen. My view of the movie is greatly influenced by having read the books before seeing the movie. The production was very entertaining and convincing for me.

P.O.P.

2011-03-26T13:21:00.000-04:00

Pissed off Poetry

I hit a tree in '83,
on my way to work.
It never had a chance,
I broke the lower branch.

The lady ahead
Spun out on the ice.
I danced around her,
But trounced the tree instead.

The cop said,
"Why aren't you dead?"
Then I said,
"Did I ruin your day?"

"I'll send you a photo
Of my recent halo.
Then you can celebrate
My recent demise."

"You go pound sand,
I'll give you a hand.
Don't rain on my parade,
Today, I make lemonade."

Ah, Shucks

2011-03-25T11:46:00.001-04:00

Thanks to the englishmaninmoscowrussia.blogspot.com for the Liebster Blog Award. It's always nice to know someone has taken the time to read what we have taken time to write.

The Liebster Blog Award is for people with little blogs (less than 300 subscribers) to share blog love and spread the word.

The Rules are:

1. Post displaying the award, linking back to the person who awarded you.
2. Choose your own blog picks and let them know they're awarded.
3. Hope everyone discovers some new favorites.
4. Revel in the blog love.

These are the blogs we've chosen to award. They are all great blogs, so you should definitely check them out!

northfinchley.blogspot.com

originalartstudio.blogspot.com

thegoodcooknj.blogspot.com

snowbrush.blogspot.com

sixthinline.blogspot.com

Venting on Vetting Jeans

2011-03-20T11:14:00.002-04:00

After trying on 22 pairs of jeans to find one that would feel like it fits, but still being unsatisfied with the appearance, I must complain up a storm. This has to be my all time pet peeve. I am not young, but after pregnancy, that belly fat hangs on for dear life--FOREVER. Short of having lipo, it is like having a tattoo--nothing but surgery removes it.

Also, I'm 66 years old and unlike Britney Spears, I have hipbones and a waist line. Do I really need to look like a five dollar hooker in a hurry to get to the next customer? I don't wish to wear off-the-hip anything. Nobody wants to see my bare midriff, so why do I need off-the-waist jeans? My natural waist is an inch above my belly button, not an inch below my belly button. Yeah, I wear "granny jeans", so sue me!!!!!!!!!!!!! No matter which jeans I put on, the waistband slides off my prominent hipbones and slides up to my small waist to find my natural waist which incites a wedgie from hell that would inflame hemorrhoids requiring a visit to the proctologist. Boy jeans are not in my future. There is a great difference between the circumference of my butt and my waist.

I have already lifted the weight of five eighteen wheelers, and walked around the globe four times on a treadmill, but as much as I would like to lose another ten or fifteen pounds, preferably off my belly, it ain't gonna happen, not in this lifetime. Therefore, I have a message for the sadist who designs jeans for real women like me--cut the crap off my belly. I don't want three buttons, and a zipper three inches long with multiple layers of thread stitching, and four layers of denim adding another ten pounds to my belly. I don't want elastic sewn into the waist band adding five inches to my waistline. I don't want a baggy butt (excuse me, "Relaxed" fit). I don't have to wear diapers yet, so I don't want to look like I am reserving space for my future. As for the infamous butt crack--don't go there. I just want to look slim, without an enhanced belly and a baggy butt.

I have a basic question for anyone who designs jeans for women: Why do women's jeans have to look like men's jeans? We have no reason to unzip the front to go potty. The side zipper works much better for sitting on the throne. To give credit where due, they did one thing right, they combined lycra with denim. So when I buy jeans in a size too small just to corral my belly, at least I can breathe. However, I do worry about developing DVT. The best fit I have found to date has been Gloria Vanderbilt Amanda jeans.

Now that I've bled venom all over, I have a simple solution. I will just have to return to sewing and make a "get real" pair of jeans for myself. The jeans I make will have a left side invisible zipper. The waist band will be the exact circumference of my natural waist with a very flat button and button hole. The waist will have the absolute minimum of fabric to avoid adding pounds where none exist, and no elastic other than the lycra woven into the fabric. There will be no pockets in the front because I don't need them to hide my hands or a woody. I carry a purse for my keys, spectacles, cell phone, and plastic cards. I will put pockets over my floppy butt so that they look firm when I walk so I don't have to wear Spanx. Thankfully, my butt is getting flatter with age, however, it is floppy. I have a long body and short legs. If I make my own jeans, I can make them with the right inseam and as long or short as I need because I always have to hem any pants I buy anyway. They have tailors for men to custom make their clothes. I wonder if a seamstress does custom jeans for ladies (not girls), ladies of enhanced years.

"Just the facts, ma'am"

2011-03-14T13:27:00.000-04:00

This morning, I was reminded of that signature phrase by Dragnet's Joe Friday from the days of black and white television, which will ring a bell for anyone over fifty.

It was a beautiful, sunny, cold morning and a good chance to leave the treadmills indoors to get some fresh air for my morning walk/run. I went to the local township cross-country track to enjoy the birds, the scenery, and to say hello to the Yellow Labs who were walking their owners and reading their "nose paper".

In the hours before noon, when there aren't a lot of people present, I tend to walk the part of the track nearest the parking lot and the street beside it. I wait until over six or eight people are present before heading to the back of the track. Ten or fifteen minutes after I arrived, only three other people were present and a car entered, parked a space away from my car, and no one got out. As much as I enjoy that outdoor track, I am always on alert which takes away from the enjoyment a bit.

For the remainder of the hour that I was walking and running, I could see a man sitting in the car but he didn't get out to walk the track. I felt that was suspicious behavior. It reminded me of a story that was in our local news recently about restaurant parking lots where cars were burgularized while patrons were eating in the restaurants.

It is tempting to embellish this story at the track, but I am fairly certain that there was a perfectly good explanation for his ill-considered behavior. Maybe he works from his car like Mickey Haller, The Lincoln Lawyer (the movie opens this week) created by Michael Connelly, but perhaps he should consider that it sets off alarm bells for observers who see him just sitting in his car. In the morning hours, the track has housewives, retirees and a few dogs, so anyone up to no good would find vulnerable pickings. I like to give the benefit of the doubt, while being prepared for the worst. My students used to say, "Don't you trust me?" To which I liked to reply, "Of course, right after I remove this temptation."

I always have my I.D., my cell phone, and my keys in my pockets when I go to the track. I lock my car, but I suspect some people don't. Some may leave things visible in cars while thinking they are close to home and are safe in their own community. Because I had my cell phone with me, I thought I would take a few pictures of the track and, oh gee, the parking lot just happened to be in the background. I made a production of the fact that I was taking a lot of pictures of the area from various angles. I never felt enough comfort to head to the back of the track out of sight of the parking lot today.

So I finished my walking and fearless fool that I am, I walked back to my car in a path that took me straight toward his car. I took a close look at his face, and memorized his license plate. I could describe the car perfectly, and I jumped into my car, locked it and wrote down the info. I left and he stayed, so if I ever need that information, I've got your number pal. I'm ready if Joe Friday needs me.

Mary's Friendship Gift

2011-03-10T15:58:00.001-05:00

I don't often bake this decadent, guilty bite of self-indulgent pleasure. Hubby's birthday was the appropriate occasion and it is a favorite at my house. Supermarkets sell pound cakes, but this one is special.

Many years ago, as I was growing up, one of my earliest memories was about a friend of my mother. The lady was named Mary. She seemed to like little children and had four of her own. She was the Sunday school teacher for the youngest children and had a talent for bringing out the best in all of them. She had a gift for listening to children, looking into the eyes of a little child, and making the child think they were the most important person in the world. She was my favorite person in the town where I grew up. She would often visit my family and we would visit her and her family.

Mary was a very hard worker and a good role model. Her yard was filled with fantastic gardens of flowers that she tended and kept beautiful for all the warm months of the year. Memories of her gardens formed in me a love of gardens that continues today. She was a mother of the fifties and sixties: homemaker supreme, extraordinary cook, enthusiastic neighbor and friend. Her ability to bring out the best in other people was a rare gift. She made people want to be better people because no one wanted to disappoint Mary.

Every Christmas, my family would receive a pound cake from her as a gift to the family. It was a special occasion when Mary's friendship cake was delivered. When I moved away from the area, I asked her for her cake recipe and this is Mary's Friendship Gift. She has long since departed this plane but her memory is always fresh when I bake her pound cake.

POUND CAKE

From – Mary, My Childhood Idol

3 sticks softened butter, (or three-fourths of a pound, or a cup and a half)

1 lb. box confectioners powdered sugar

1 ½ tsp. lemon extract

1 tsp. vanilla extract

2 ½ cups all-purpose flour (sifted)

Dash of salt

6 eggs

In large electric mixer bowl, cream together butter, sugar, salt, lemon, and vanilla. Slowly add flour, alternating with the eggs. Increase the speed of the mixer as needed when the batter gets thicker. Mix until fluffy.

Grease a tube cake pan with softened butter and dust with flour.

Gently transfer the cake batter to the tube pan and lightly, level the top.

Bake at 350˚ in a preheated oven at center of oven for 1 hr, 20 minutes. Add time as needed until cake is golden brown in appearance. Depending on the oven, it may take an hour and a half or an hour and 40 minutes. Cool about 10 minutes before turning upside down on a plate. Transfer to a cake dish so that cake is sliced in an upright setting. The top has a nice, golden brown crust. This cake makes a good gift item.

The Golden Hour

2011-03-05T05:13:00.003-05:00

The Golden Hour

The Golden Hour,
or two or three,
comes before dawn
on the feet of insomnia.

I can't sleep.
There are things
that need to be worried about,
and only I can do the job justice.

Words niggle.
Phrases nag.
A pen begs for attention.
Beds are for the lazy.

A glowing computer screen,
A cup of coffee, a dark room.
The best thoughts of my day
flow from the muse of my subconscious.

I close my eyes
and a world never seen
flows from my fingertips
and into cyberspace at times.

In the hours before the day intrudes,
My thoughts seem so fresh and original.
By ten o'clock, the best of my golden hour,
lies discarded on the floor of reality.

Those who sleep and those who dream,
Don't have time to waste.
The Golden Hour before dawn can gift one
with immortality.

"Where's Mine?" -- The Great Equalizer Top Twenty

2011-03-02T11:10:00.001-05:00

I'm a big fan of entertainment as a great way to survive the long, cold, snowy winters. I resort to certain television shows to provide a great escape and I prefer programs with a great plot, like in the novels I prefer. The shows I tend to enjoy begin with a cast of characters with interesting traits and great comradery, who encounter a problem and solve it within the hour program. The programs I like seem to have a common theme of "balance of power" among the various strata of society. Like the novels I enjoy, the programs I seek have great conflict, and interesting problems for the cast to solve that show we are all the same as humans regardless of our circumstances.

Fairly Legal shows the ultimate balance of power with a main character whose job as a mediator/lawyer has a challenge to bring opposing parties to a resolution of their differences with a "win-win" solution to their conflict.

Harry's Law is a new program with Kathy Bates playing a rich patent lawyer who gives up boring comfort for exciting satisfaction. She helps the powerless in a bad neighborhood to use the law to better their circumstances and claim their equality. She shows great humor and balance in solutions to help those less fortunate. One unfortunate, elderly client asks the gritty, basic question that hovers over human conflict, "Where's mine?"

Royal Pains features a doctor who loses his city trauma center job because he chooses to save the life of a boy who comes from the "wrong side of the tracks" instead of a rich, important man. He finds a new life in the Hamptons caring for the medical issues of the rich and famous who deal with as much unhappiness and pain as the poorest person back in the city. His billionaire benefactor, Boris (dramatically played by Campbell Scott, son of George C. Scott), has a rare, incurable, genetic disease and struggles with his girlfriend over her pregnancy. She wants a family and he wants to end the disease forever and let it die with him. He has more money than God but lives with a disease the money can't control. It isn't a soap opera, but weekly, the cast of "Hank Med" encounters unhappiness and great pain among the people who live the enviable lives of the very rich. Those less financially endowed might envy those people, but alas, they suffer misfortunes just like the poorest among us. Money doesn't always buy good health.

Merlin has been a surprising hit in my house. It comes "from the land of make-believe" where the powerless resort to magic to equal the playing field while trying to keep it a secret from the powerful rulers who want to put all things "magic" in a lock box forever to maintain their own power. From the days of King Arthur, the scenery is beautiful and the plots make one wish magic was really possible to make our lives equal

Southland grabbed me from the first show because the haunting intro is worthy of a few awards. The sepia stills and the forlorn music draws me to see what the weekly disaster will be in south Los Angeles. It isn't just another cop show and there is pathos and drama equal to the headlines of the city's newspapers.

Here is a further list of highly interesting dramas of human conflict that never fail to deliver a good hour of entertainment in the quest to corral the guilty or improve the quality of life of the unfortunates, and offer a good dose of "my piece of the pie."

Castle
White Collar
Hawaii Five-O
Mentalist
House
NCIS-LA
NCIS
Chicago Code
Justified
Blue Bloods
Detroit 1-8-7

Notable Mention-currently off season:

Human Target
The Closer
Burn Notice
Lie to Me

Making Memories

2011-02-25T12:13:00.001-05:00

Considering that many people have grandchildren, and grandparents are more than a little proud of their own grandchildren, it seems superfluous to indulge in a little grandmotherly pride about my own two little sweethearts. I like to take pictures and videos of their antics when they visit Nana and Papa. I don't need a picture to remind me of the sight or feeling when my two-year-old grandson has to leave to go home after a day of playing with the grandparents. He is told fifteen minutes early that they have to leave soon, but when the time comes, he sits down on a rug near the front door, puts his little face into his hands and sobs. What a moment! The little tyke is so adorable. Naturally, he gets tons of hugs and promises that he can come to visit Nana and Papa again soon. He has no concept of time, but when he arrives at the front door to begin a visit, the happy grin on his face is worth its weight in gold. My grandchildren lead a charmed life and could ask no more of their environment than two doting parents and doting grandparents, but they love to visit grandma's house to play with toys different from the ones at their house. I kept many of their father's toys which they play with now. I don't know who treasures those visits more, the grandchildren, or the grandparents. It is such a special relationship between grandparents and their grandchildren.

I have fond memories of my grandson playing with a tiny wooden train given to his father by his grandma in 1976. It lives on top of the TV in the family room so when my grandson visits, he knows where to find it. The little cars are connected by hooks and one came apart from the others as he played with it. I told him to get Papa to fix it for him so they went to my office to get the computer repair tools and they fixed it with the pliers. They put the tools back into the zippered case, closed it, and returned it to the shelf where it stays. Later that day, another car released, so he took the train back to my office, took down the tool case and pretended to repair it. It was more than his tiny fingers could manage, but he knows when he gets frustrated with something that Papa can fix it.

Both my grandson and my five-year-old granddaughter like to play "office." When they visit, both can be found in different rooms in front of computers with a telephone(old portables they play with), their pencils, writing pads, and their cups of water. They take notes, answer the phone and play with the computer. Then they sip the water, take a deep breath and give a big sigh as though they just engineered a difficult merger. My son sometimes works from home and has a toddler helper setting up shop near his desk with his own tools and the two-year-old "works" too. When they get him on the payroll too, the family is in business. My grandson will imitate anything he sees an adult doing. My five-year-old granddaughter likes to play with my computer when she visits. She prefers to use the headphones when she plays games on nickjr.com. We sit with them at the computers and help them when they need it. They learn like little sponges and we talk about what they are doing on the sites. Letters, numbers and keyboarding come easily to toddlers with computers.

I sometimes wonder why I don't remember all of the adorable things that I'm sure my son did when he was a toddler but I was too busy to fully appreciate every time his three-year-old eyes would light up and he would throw out his arms while running to tackle my knees and exclaim "Mommie". I do remember those greetings of the days after preschool. Sometimes I pull out my photo albums to look at his youth and remember that he was just as adorable as his children. I wish I had spent more time writing about his moments to treasure. It is so easy to take the day-to-day activities with our children for granted and I am sure all of the bloggers who chronicle the early years of their children will thank themselves later when they have such detailed memories of their babies and toddlers.

I can state without doubt that this is one of the best moments life has to offer. When my grandson has worn out from playing, I treasure these moments when I have the opportunity to sway and soothe him on my shoulder while he sleeps. I managed to stretch this session over 30 minutes while he snoozed. My arms were almost frozen in place, but I didn't want to end it until he woke up.

Requiem

2011-02-03T11:29:00.001-05:00

As our world changes faster and faster, one of the things I will miss will be inventive bookmarks.
I'm afraid that as e-readers become more and more predominate, the printed word will become the electronic word, which will make bookmarks obsolete along with antique record album covers, Kodachrome film, book covers, slide rules, typewriters, and other relics of the past.

I pause to wonder what the museums of the future will display as the great writings of the past as they now display copies of the original Declaration of Independence, The Book of Kells, The Constitution, or The Magna Carta. Maybe all museums will be online and we won't be able to see the historical past except electronically. The Ancient Library of Alexandria has been replaced by a replica with exhibits showing reproductions of papyrus scrolls.

I'm greatly impressed by the mission of the Library of Congress to preserve the many antiquities of our country and the many generations of media that have come and gone.

I've always loved interesting bookmarks with beautiful pictures and fabulous quotes. When I was a librarian, even the high school students enjoyed getting a free bookmark appropriate to their interests. The elementary school students competed for bookmarks as rewards for outstanding contributions in the library whether it was for reading a lot of books or sitting quietly during story time.

The possibilities for projects to produce original bookmarks is endless and promotion of bookstores, specific books, or other causes lend themselves very well to bookmark production. However, no one will need them if we stop printing paper books. I hope that is not too soon because there is something nostalgic about holding a print book in my hands. Availability of e-books for new releases isn't 100%, so we still have time before everything can be downloaded to an electronic reader. Even so, for a small fee, one can join huge metropolitan public libraries online and download mass numbers of e-books to a Nook for free. It is getting very tempting.

As I borrow more and more books from public libraries, I like to use bookmarks to avoid creasing pages and damaging the book for future patrons, nor would I write corrections in margins of a public property book. With no more space to store more books in my home, I share books with others at the public library and remind myself not to fold pages, eat over books or drop drinks on them. I don't like to damage my own books and I don't like to deface public property library books. I try to be considerate of other patrons. I haven't yet joined the legions of e-reader fans, but it's on the horizon for all of us. I'm waiting a little longer to jump on that speeding train.

Apathy

2011-01-26T13:30:00.000-05:00

"Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn." I always thought Rhett made more sense than Scarlett, the shallow, selfish little twit. I can't resist digression. My reaction to some recent blogs I have read and many comments at the end of articles I read on news sites such as CNN or ABC News has to be described as apathetic. I marvel that people have such passionate involvement in things that they can work up a sweat just posting a reactionary rant about some issue or whatever they react to very strongly.

It wouldn't make my day to complain about what some starlet chose to wear to an award ceremony--who cares? I don't lose any sleep over who is currently in rehab--why should I care? Some civil discourse might be important to the advancement of civilization but when we spend so much time arguing about who has the right answer, nothing gets done, so maybe that is the ultimate goal. I wouldn't have made a good lawyer because I'm not on a quest for my next good argument.

My reaction to "stuff" is "What do you care?" Why do people get so passionate about all the things they think are wrong and need to be changed yesterday? Having learned a long time ago that disappointment is the natural product of futile expectations, I can't get too worked up about stuff. I don't really care if people self-destruct in the multitude of ways they can create. It's unfortunate, but I can't control anyone but myself.

I can't imagine getting worked up about something to the extent that I would be willing to harm someone, intentionally insult someone, or be willing to die for some lofty-sounding cause. It does anger me that people would overstep their bounds and harm others. There is never a good reason for it beyond self-preservation.

I firmly believe in the cliches of my childhood: "Your rights end where my nose begins," or "Live and let live," or "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." I grew up in a world where you understood that you could do what you wanted, within the law, as long as it included leaving other people to do the same. Unfortunately, therein lies great conflict when those needs overlap.

I firmly believe we don't have the right to make choices for other people. Where did humans ever get the notion that we have the right to impose our own values on other humans? I like to quiz myself with the ultimate question--how important is this in the big picture? I prefer to blow off the stress and save myself the aggravation of worrying about things I can't change.

The Last Dress

2010-12-16T10:21:00.000-05:00

As I consider our New Year's Eve occasion with friends, wardrobe considerations do not include a dress. That particular evening in my neck of the woods often includes cold, either snowy or rainy weather which, in my mind, excludes a dress. I still love the little black dress with black stockings and heels because it gives me a long, slim look. Long dresses suit me more than mid-calf or knee length dresses--both make me look short and fat. Dresses at mid-thigh look better on me than mid-calf. Dark, solid color dresses look better than colors or patterns on my weird shape.

I cannot recall the last time I wore a dress. I think it was in 2007 for a formal occasion. It would take a formal wedding at this time to get me into a dress. I haven't bought a dress in such a long time, I don't even know my size. The last wedding I attended was outdoors and I wore a pantsuit. I like dark, solid pattern pantsuits with some frilly neck treatment or eye-popping jewelry. I really prefer feminine pantsuits to dresses because my extra ten pounds and my short stature find it to be more friendly. The jackets in pantsuits hide a multitude of sins which I favor at my age. If I choose to wear high heels, pants make me look even taller, but I don't choose to wear high heels too often. My feet thank me at the end of the day when I wear two-inch heels rather than five-inch heels.

I don't mind my legs showing when wearing a skirt, because my gene pool doesn't include cellulite or varicose veins. I just find slacks are so much more comfortable even though I don't sit in any unladylike contortions. Ask any guy if he would like to wear skirts. I'm still trying to get the charm of kilts other than the obvious titillation of "going commando". I never have to think twice about "upskirting" when I climb stairs in my slacks, which is a plus to my sensibilities. The TSA won't have to waste their time searching me due to trying to wear a skirt on an airplane. I can't understand why anyone would want to wear a skirt on a plane--you never know when you are going to land in the Hudson or have to slide down an escape chute.

The basic black slacks can flatter any top, shiny or plain. I have a huge wardrobe of black dressy slacks so I prefer switching tops or buying only tops rather than paying for a dress that quickly becomes old news. Basic black slacks are even more versatile than the little black dress. I like sleeves to keep my arms warm in the winter and little black dresses look better sleeveless and low-cut. IMHO ladies over the age of fifty clearly look their age in sleeveless, low-cut dresses. The skin ages and looks like crepe--end of story. Age-appropriate is a lovely euphemism.

Ambivalence

2010-11-12T12:35:00.003-05:00

"My home is my castle." We like to think we have an impenetrable fortress, even today, when we close our doors on the world to recharge our human batteries to face another day. Throughout history, mankind has built structures designed to keep out their enemies and to shelter their families.

Should people in modern neighborhoods be considered alert, observant, or overly alarmed when a stranger takes a picture of your house and the inside through the windows; or when a stranger asks for a cigarette while standing in your driveway; or when a stranger tapes seven of the same advertisements on the front door of your house on different days? Are we vigilant, or nosy, or paranoid when we see such things and report them?

Every neighborhood is a combination of various personalities and, like families, we don't get to choose the other people who are part of this circle. Every neighborhood has incidents of mischief, misdemeanors and sometimes even felonies. No neighborhood is perfect but when we buy a house, we are full of hope that there are good neighbors and no bad actors living nearby.

I have to think that some of the trend toward 55 Plus neighborhoods is an effort to shut out crime and eliminate some of the mischief that occurs in neighborhoods where unsupervised children get out of hand and steal or damage property. We like to live near people like ourselves who can relate to us.

I like the thought that neighbors look out for each other and pay attention to what's happening in their neighborhood. After seeing stories of someone like Jaycee Dugard in the news and wondering how this can happen and no neighbors would notice or report it, I think the guy who pulled off that crime for years and years wouldn't have had a chance in my neighborhood.

After some local vandalism and theft, we now have a neighborhood "passive" watch and an e-mail board where neighbors can keep each other informed of suspicious activity in the neighborhood. I am alert to the fine line between trying to be vigilant and observant but leery of jumping off the deep end and imagining harmful intentions behind every unusual occurrence. It is systematic of the world in which we live where terrorism is always front and center--"If you see something, say something." I grew up in a small community where everyone knew everyone and if someone did something bad, everyone else knew about it before the culprit got home. It made you think twice about what you were doing and how it would be perceived.

I would like to think we should look for the best in everyone, but making excuses is also known as enabling. Unfortunately, it is the reality we face in today's world that thieves, drug users, and sociopaths walk among us and look just like us. Who are they? When do we have to be on guard? Always.

NOTE: Mont Saint Michel in the picture above isn't really a home or a castle, even though it has housed many people since its construction in the sixth century. It was mainly a monastery-sometime prison, and now is a historical monument. It is one of the most beautiful structures I have ever seen and one of my treasured memories. I use any excuse to look at my pictures of it.

Turkey Day

2010-11-04T07:32:00.002-04:00

The holidays are just around the corner and it's time to start thinking about orchestrating my Thanksgiving dinner. I have a set menu and the family prefers the same foods each year. I always use a recipe for turkey from a cookbook I have owned over forty years.

A Thanksgiving Turkey is very special and best when moist. This technique guarantees that it will be cooked quickly, thoroughly, and it doesn't dry out with this method. It doesn't require a lot of tending or frequent basting. It is the most rewarding recipe I've ever used for the cooking of a Thanksgiving Turkey.

TURKEY RECIPE *

Thanksgiving Turkey Cooked in Foil

Weight---------------Cooking Time

7 - 9 lb.---------------------2 ¼ - 2 ½ hr.

10 – 13 lb.-----------------2 ¾ - 3 hr.

14 – 17 lb.-----------------3 – 3 ¼ hr.

18 – 21 lb.-----------------3 ¼ - 3 ½ hr.

22 – 24 lb.-----------------3 ½ - 3 ¾ hr.

Wash thawed turkey (I use turkey breast), dry, sprinkle with salt and Bell’s Poultry Seasoning to individual taste. Add small pats of butter or Smart Balance if desired. Cooking times can be the same for stuffed birds. Place turkey in the center of large, long strip of heavy duty aluminum foil on a shallow oven baking pan. Put foil covers on ends of wings or drumsticks if it is a whole bird. Bring ends of foil to top and roll together to form a loose tent, not touching the top of the bird. Also seal the ends. Place on a rack in the center of the oven, not too near the bottom to avoid overcooking the bottom.

Bake in preheated 450˚ oven according to the chart above. Remove for the last 30 minutes, open the foil (careful of the steam!). If additional browning is needed, return to the oven. Juices can be basted over the turkey first to retain moisture. Remove juices either before or after this step to make gravy. Sometimes the turkey is cooked at this point and doesn’t need additional time in the oven. I prefer to leave it in the oven to the end of the cooking time, remove it, open foil, and let it cool for 30 minutes before slicing.

Servings vary with turkey size – normally allow ¼ lb. per serving.

*Marsh, Dorothy B., ed. The New Good Housekeeping Cookbook. New York: Harcourt, Brace; World, Inc., 1963.

Family Fun

2010-10-30T07:32:00.000-04:00

While visiting my son's family, we sat at the kitchen table to play a board game as a family. My daughter-in-law is from Canada and she introduced us to one of their favorite family table games. It is called Rummoli and can involve two to eight players. It is a variation of poker, but has rules and a user-friendly approach that made it possible to involve a five-year-old and a two-year-old.

Rummoli has a large board with great visuals and the rules of the game make it easy to teach to a new player--even a five-year-old. It was played with a casual approach and we used buttons, rather than chips or money. That meant I could hold my two-year-old grandson on my lap and play the game while he played with the buttons. He was the official "banker" with a big plastic container of buttons that kept him busy sifting with his tiny fingers and transferring buttons to other containers. We counted the same number of buttons into a little ramikin for each player. My grandson was very generous about giving us loans when we lost all of our buttons. It was a fun session filled with mock insults, teasing, challenges, and we got a little loud in our enthusiasm. I hope the neighbors weren't ready to call the police on the noisy party people.

It reminded me of the visits to my in-laws when my son was tiny. The whole family would sit around the big country kitchen table and play poker. My hubby's grandfather would sit at the kitchen table with a green banker's/poker dealer's visor and play poker for hours and hours. My father-in-law was from the WWII generation and cards were a popular way to pass time in the military. They liked to play weird variations of poker that I had never seen even in a poker book.

The hours flew when the family sat at the kitchen table while activity buzzed all around. Dinner was on the stove, players came and went, conversation was constant. The game was ongoing until a break for a meal required clearing the table. No one took the game seriously and we didn't play for money--just the companionship at a family reunion. There were no cell-phones ringing, no MP3 players, no computers distracting anyone, no TV blasting from the next room. The teenagers didn't need a curfew, they were sitting at the kitchen table playing poker with parents and grandparents. There were lots of people, face to face, communicating, relating to each other and bonding generations with a table game.

The Old Ball and Chain

2010-10-27T11:56:00.000-04:00

I have several married lady friends who live in different parts of the U.S. and many are friends of forty plus years. They have an individual e-mail account and no other person would be reading our silly conversations so we are pretty open and uncensored in our e-mail conversations. (Yes, I know, nothing is really private on the Internet, but anyone who reads my e-mail is intruding on my privacy and deserves to get shocked.)

My girl friends and I have wonderful conversations by e-mail on a frequent basis, sometimes even daily. Those conversations are philosophical, or newsy, or sometimes family-related. We do a lot of "girl talk" and discuss our lifestyles, clothes preferences, makeup, guys and so forth--a lot of stuff no guy would ever want to read about, or care about. Some of our e-mails get down and dirty and would make the guys' ears turn pink. We write about stuff I would never put on a blog because the subjects are just too personal. I would cringe at airing my dirty laundry in public which is typical of my generation.

Men tend not to be as gabby as women and their male ego, self-respect requires that they communicate about sports, jokes, or stuff you would expect to hear them discuss at work. Men don't usually do the kind of e-mail that I do with my girl friends because the guys don't spend a lot of time on the social type communicating and small talk that women love.

I have some lady friends who for reasons unknown to me, share an e-mail account with their husbands. What? Are they joined at the hip? Do they share a brain? Is this some new way to try to snoop on the guys and make sure they aren't doing e-mail with an online honey? If the guys(or girls) really want to do that, they can always have secret e-mail accounts. If you can't trust them enough that you have to snoop, you've got a real problem and a shared e-mail account won't solve that.

Whatever works for them, and it isn't my business, however it does mean that I don't do e-mail with those girl friends at all. If I don't know which one of a couple will be reading the e-mail, it totally destroys my interest in communicating. Togetherness is great, but I have my limits and I don't send girl talk e-mail to co-accounts.

Not a Poet

2010-10-12T11:49:00.001-04:00

Not a Poet

I'm not a poet;
Don't I know it!
Need a little rhyme?
I don't have time.

Clever thoughts elude me;
Shakespeare, safe is he.
Never had a verse,
That could look worse.

Mine never seem to rhyme;
Mine don't stand the test of time.
Discard those lines,
Edgar Allen Poe whines.

Not a Poet - A Poem c. by R.J.