Today there's no sun, no wind, no rain, just plain; a good day to spend reading a book.
A few days ago I was given a book, titled Lee and Grant. Those two names are immediately recognized by Americans and probably by many people around the world, at least those who study military matters.
The book was written by Gene Smith, published by Promontory Press by arrangement with McGraw-Hill in 1991. The comment by Major General J.F.C. Fuller, British Army, on the fly leaf before the introduction, encapsulates the flavor of the book, promising not to be just another rehash of the Civil War.
Having read five chapters to date, I am thoroughly engrossed in this history that reads like a novel. My childhood education included studying the Civil War, dates, causes and aftermaths. My family genealogy includes kin on both Union and Confederate sides. Mom's family fought for the North; Dad's family fought for the South. Consequently it has been a life long interest and I've read many books on the subject.
This book is a comparison of Lee and Grant's characters and personalities. It contrasts their births, parentage, education, marriages and events that brought them together on the field of battle. Their joined histories are stranger than fiction and if the facts were not so well known, I might believe the author used “creative license”.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Office Gardens by A. Nonymus
Many years ago I had just started working in city hall as assistant city manager. City hall is always a busy place, with lots of people coming and going, and of course a large staff working there too.
This city hall was beautiful! There was a lovely atrium entry lobby choc-a-bloc with lovely plants - a virtual garden of eden, however this is not what I want to write about. Down the long main hallway, at a major intersection was a lovely ficus tree - about 3 feet tall in a large decorative floor pot. The star of the hallway was that ficus tree. It was grandly shaped for its size, and virtually perfect!
Many of the offices had sundry plants on desks, or someone near a window would have a panoply of plants thriving and enjoying the sun, but none was as beloved as that poor lone perfect ficus in the hall. Everyone admired that tree, and I had an ideal view of it from my new desk.
As I settled into my new job I could see the ficus was the recipient of lots of attention, and I soon realized that almost everyone walking by the tree would 'tend' it at some point in the day, using everything from actual water to stale coffee, tea, sodas, even gum, gum wrappers, or cigarette butts [which I attributed to some dodgy young folks from the Parks Department]. Unbeknownst to all, this ficus got a lot of liquids in the course of a day!
Well, as you may have guessed, even the hardiest plant can only take so much 'tending' and this kind of TLC.
It wasn't long before the tree was showing signs of distress, and started dropping leaves. Before long the poor thing was bare naked... and almost beyond struggling. There were inter-office memos about - DO this / DON"T do that .. as regards tending this poor tree.
However, no stern memos would deter the determined - i.e. those who 'knew' the plant was too dry and needed more watering ! Office politics and departmental rivalries now went into higher gear. In desperation of this crisis, everyone it seemed increased 'tending' it!
Due to the increasingly heated politics, the various water brigades had to go surreptitious - sneaking cups of water - glancing both ways to see who was watching, and quickly flicking sustenance into the pot as they passed by. If folks noticed me watching I would get a conspiratorial wink – as to say 'just our secret'! There may have been a slowdown on sodas and stale coffees too, but I rather doubt it because now the tree was getting even more drinks daily!
The wrangling over tending the tree went on for a while, but by now the poor tree was clearly just a goner... as in the old western movies ...'He's a goner sherriff' ... and it was apparent that no memos, or stale coffee would ever revive it.
Folks, however, just refused to face reality, so it was still 'watered' with sneaky trips to the water fountain .. and of course the odd stale soda, tea or coffee yet I'm sure. I think people secretly hoped the poor tree would magically revive, but alas, this tree was no Lazarus! It was hard to face the fact that such a grand plant was a 'goner'. The tree was the subject of every water cooler chat in the place. What to do ... what to do?
Then one Monday morning when I came to work, I could see the forlorn ghostly silhouette of the ficus down the hall, but noticed a prominent sign stuck into the soil - a large file card stapeled to an ice cream stick. I went over to look. This mysterious sign – we believe - was put there by the City Manager... and it simply read...
"PLEASE DO NOT WATER ME ANYMORE! - I AM DEAD - AND I LIKE IT THIS WAY"!
This city hall was beautiful! There was a lovely atrium entry lobby choc-a-bloc with lovely plants - a virtual garden of eden, however this is not what I want to write about. Down the long main hallway, at a major intersection was a lovely ficus tree - about 3 feet tall in a large decorative floor pot. The star of the hallway was that ficus tree. It was grandly shaped for its size, and virtually perfect!
Many of the offices had sundry plants on desks, or someone near a window would have a panoply of plants thriving and enjoying the sun, but none was as beloved as that poor lone perfect ficus in the hall. Everyone admired that tree, and I had an ideal view of it from my new desk.
As I settled into my new job I could see the ficus was the recipient of lots of attention, and I soon realized that almost everyone walking by the tree would 'tend' it at some point in the day, using everything from actual water to stale coffee, tea, sodas, even gum, gum wrappers, or cigarette butts [which I attributed to some dodgy young folks from the Parks Department]. Unbeknownst to all, this ficus got a lot of liquids in the course of a day!
Well, as you may have guessed, even the hardiest plant can only take so much 'tending' and this kind of TLC.
It wasn't long before the tree was showing signs of distress, and started dropping leaves. Before long the poor thing was bare naked... and almost beyond struggling. There were inter-office memos about - DO this / DON"T do that .. as regards tending this poor tree.
However, no stern memos would deter the determined - i.e. those who 'knew' the plant was too dry and needed more watering ! Office politics and departmental rivalries now went into higher gear. In desperation of this crisis, everyone it seemed increased 'tending' it!
Due to the increasingly heated politics, the various water brigades had to go surreptitious - sneaking cups of water - glancing both ways to see who was watching, and quickly flicking sustenance into the pot as they passed by. If folks noticed me watching I would get a conspiratorial wink – as to say 'just our secret'! There may have been a slowdown on sodas and stale coffees too, but I rather doubt it because now the tree was getting even more drinks daily!
The wrangling over tending the tree went on for a while, but by now the poor tree was clearly just a goner... as in the old western movies ...'He's a goner sherriff' ... and it was apparent that no memos, or stale coffee would ever revive it.
Folks, however, just refused to face reality, so it was still 'watered' with sneaky trips to the water fountain .. and of course the odd stale soda, tea or coffee yet I'm sure. I think people secretly hoped the poor tree would magically revive, but alas, this tree was no Lazarus! It was hard to face the fact that such a grand plant was a 'goner'. The tree was the subject of every water cooler chat in the place. What to do ... what to do?
Then one Monday morning when I came to work, I could see the forlorn ghostly silhouette of the ficus down the hall, but noticed a prominent sign stuck into the soil - a large file card stapeled to an ice cream stick. I went over to look. This mysterious sign – we believe - was put there by the City Manager... and it simply read...
"PLEASE DO NOT WATER ME ANYMORE! - I AM DEAD - AND I LIKE IT THIS WAY"!
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
So, How Does YOUR Garden Grow?
[Editor's Note: Gardens and Gardening have been the topic of quite a few stories over the years. Many family members have thumbs greener than the Jolly Green Giant. MrsB thought it would be great fun to start a combined or carousel topic about how everyone's garden is doing, both the good, the bad, and the gophers. So here's the first installment.]
MrsB
KimB
My 6 container pot garden has 2 tomatoes 2 potatoes[red and white taters] and 12 strawberry plants[6 in each pot] plus 1 small strawberry pot with herbs. One of my tomatoes has 4 FOUR marble sized tomatoes!
My herb pot has oregano, golden oregano, spicy oregano, parsley, basil and garlic chives growing from the pockets and trailing rosemary from the top. Hopefully by the time the side pocket herbs die off the rosemary will be cascading over the sides.
[Editor's Note: Contact MrsB if you would like to include your updates. Gardens can be anything from a potted African Violet to a full force multi-row garden. Successes and failures are both great topics.]
MrsB
My garden at the moment consists of two pots of dying chrysanthemum plants and one healthy Christmas cactus.
KimB
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| KimB's Herb Pot 03/05/2011 |
My herb pot has oregano, golden oregano, spicy oregano, parsley, basil and garlic chives growing from the pockets and trailing rosemary from the top. Hopefully by the time the side pocket herbs die off the rosemary will be cascading over the sides.
[Editor's Note: Contact MrsB if you would like to include your updates. Gardens can be anything from a potted African Violet to a full force multi-row garden. Successes and failures are both great topics.]
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Card Tournament
I am in a card tournament. The game is called Spite and Malice and only one person can be the winner of any round. The first player to win 10 games wins a bottle of Strawberry champagne. The tournament has been going for slightly more than a week, and one player has already scored 8 games.
Everyone is beginning to sharpen their cut-throat strategies to prevent that player from winning, but since there is little or no strategy to playing Spite and malice, it's going to be the luck of the draw.
Everyone has made comments about what they would do if they won the bottle, some saying they would share with the other players, some saying they would take it home. The discussion about sharing or not made me think of an incident that happened many years ago when my daughter was about 7 years old.
An artist friend from New York, was visiting friends and family in Los Angeles. We lived in Fontana, CA at that time and invited him to come spend a week with us. It was a delightful visit, and we promised to see him again in Los Angeles before he returned to New York.
One Sunday afternoon we drove from Fontana into L A, to see him, taking a fancy decorated cake and a chilled bottle of Cold Duck with us. We were warmly greeted and not long after we had arrived the cake and champagne were served. My daughter was very young, about 7 or 8 and she begged to have a taste of the wine. After a moment, I did give her permission to have a taste of the champagne, but only a tiny sip.
Everyone was busy chatting and toasting each others health, and I noticed my daughter being a proper little lady holding her glass with the several drops of champagne and making it last as long as possible.
The room we were in was unusually large with a massive fireplace on one wall and a huge bay window opposite. Those of us who were artists and painters commented that the room would make and ideal studio and as we envisioned the possibilities, we heard a sudden loud crash that sounded like breaking glass.
As we all turned to look in the direction of the fireplace where the sound came from, we could see the shards of a wine glass, broken into a hundred pieces. We were dumbstruck!
Then I noticed my daughter standing there without her glass. She had hurled it across that huge room into the fireplace! I gasped and sputtered and it was a moment before I could ask her why she had done such a thing. Apparently she had seen it done in a movie.
Thank heavens it was not an expensive wine glass.
Everyone is beginning to sharpen their cut-throat strategies to prevent that player from winning, but since there is little or no strategy to playing Spite and malice, it's going to be the luck of the draw.
Everyone has made comments about what they would do if they won the bottle, some saying they would share with the other players, some saying they would take it home. The discussion about sharing or not made me think of an incident that happened many years ago when my daughter was about 7 years old.
An artist friend from New York, was visiting friends and family in Los Angeles. We lived in Fontana, CA at that time and invited him to come spend a week with us. It was a delightful visit, and we promised to see him again in Los Angeles before he returned to New York.
One Sunday afternoon we drove from Fontana into L A, to see him, taking a fancy decorated cake and a chilled bottle of Cold Duck with us. We were warmly greeted and not long after we had arrived the cake and champagne were served. My daughter was very young, about 7 or 8 and she begged to have a taste of the wine. After a moment, I did give her permission to have a taste of the champagne, but only a tiny sip.
Everyone was busy chatting and toasting each others health, and I noticed my daughter being a proper little lady holding her glass with the several drops of champagne and making it last as long as possible.
The room we were in was unusually large with a massive fireplace on one wall and a huge bay window opposite. Those of us who were artists and painters commented that the room would make and ideal studio and as we envisioned the possibilities, we heard a sudden loud crash that sounded like breaking glass.
As we all turned to look in the direction of the fireplace where the sound came from, we could see the shards of a wine glass, broken into a hundred pieces. We were dumbstruck!
Then I noticed my daughter standing there without her glass. She had hurled it across that huge room into the fireplace! I gasped and sputtered and it was a moment before I could ask her why she had done such a thing. Apparently she had seen it done in a movie.
Thank heavens it was not an expensive wine glass.
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| Broken Champagne Glasses |
Monday, May 16, 2011
The Raven’s Wing by KimB
The Raven’s Wing
Black as the raven’s wing,
Sharpened eyes do bind,
And search the soul with steeled claws,
the hidden lies behind.
Seized and torn from ravaged roots,
snatched by reddened maw,
the twisted, shattered, pallid forms,
writhe in crimson jaws.
Red drips the ragged shapes,
stains that may not hide,
frame the anguished night with death,
no solace shall there bide.
KimB Jan 2000
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Theater: Legacy of Light by Richard
[Editor's note: This story was written by Richard]
Frances and I saw the play Legacy of Light Wednesday night April 13,2011 at the San Jose Repertory. The play is about two women with great scientific minds and their love life relationships.
The time and place was France in the 1700s and Now in New Jersey. The back and forth was skillfully and masterfully accomplished between historical period and centuries, as well as the dialogue and the costumes. These women were always looking for mathematical ways to measure and to fulfill expectations about energy, light, mater, and the cosmos, and how they all work and fit in the universe.
These two women were working in a man's world and found that it was not easy to please or satisfy them with their mathematical answers, and difficult to publish their findings. The two great scientific minds wanted to leave something behind to show other to follow. Their love lives were very different. One was promiscuous and the other was unable have children.
The play had many happy moments.
Frances and I saw the play Legacy of Light Wednesday night April 13,2011 at the San Jose Repertory. The play is about two women with great scientific minds and their love life relationships.
The time and place was France in the 1700s and Now in New Jersey. The back and forth was skillfully and masterfully accomplished between historical period and centuries, as well as the dialogue and the costumes. These women were always looking for mathematical ways to measure and to fulfill expectations about energy, light, mater, and the cosmos, and how they all work and fit in the universe.
These two women were working in a man's world and found that it was not easy to please or satisfy them with their mathematical answers, and difficult to publish their findings. The two great scientific minds wanted to leave something behind to show other to follow. Their love lives were very different. One was promiscuous and the other was unable have children.
The play had many happy moments.
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Saturday, May 07, 2011
Mother's Day 2011
On many long ago Mother's Day mornings, my children would surprise me with breakfast in bed. They came bearing a tray with enough food to feed a lumberjack; sometimes the cereal would be soggy, and the toast slightly burnt, but with great expectations they waited breathlessly for me to take my first bite then pass judgment on their cooking.
Of course I always managed to express my amazement at such a wonderful breakfast tray, all the while wondering just what kind of mess the kitchen might be in. Those lovely memories are locked away in my heart forever and sometimes I take them out and pass them in review.
As the years passed we celebrated Mother's Day in many ways, often going out for brunch at a popular eatery. When Mom and Dad were still with us, I often served a large family dinner with brothers and sisters and their spouses attending. Those too are memories precious to me and I often share them with my sister Esther, when we reminisce about days gone by.
I'm celebrating this year with gifts of two new hobbies. One is played on the computer, a membership in the game: Lord Of The Rings Online; the other: a cage with three beautiful baby parakeets which I have named Tic, Tac and Toe. I have been assured that the birds will not only talk but will sing or whistle tunes so I have been playing canary songs I found on YouTube. As for playing in LOTRO, I am a Hobbit Minstrel and learning how to ride my pony around The Shire.
Of course I always managed to express my amazement at such a wonderful breakfast tray, all the while wondering just what kind of mess the kitchen might be in. Those lovely memories are locked away in my heart forever and sometimes I take them out and pass them in review.
As the years passed we celebrated Mother's Day in many ways, often going out for brunch at a popular eatery. When Mom and Dad were still with us, I often served a large family dinner with brothers and sisters and their spouses attending. Those too are memories precious to me and I often share them with my sister Esther, when we reminisce about days gone by.
I'm celebrating this year with gifts of two new hobbies. One is played on the computer, a membership in the game: Lord Of The Rings Online; the other: a cage with three beautiful baby parakeets which I have named Tic, Tac and Toe. I have been assured that the birds will not only talk but will sing or whistle tunes so I have been playing canary songs I found on YouTube. As for playing in LOTRO, I am a Hobbit Minstrel and learning how to ride my pony around The Shire.
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| At the Brandywine Bridge | Canary Song |
Saturday, April 30, 2011
My New Sweater by Esther
[Editor's note: This story was written by Esther]
My sister Marion Elizabeth and I would chat every week day in the mornings on Yahoo IM. We would chat about what everyone was doing, who was coming, and what we would be planning to make next after we finish a project.
I had been sewing some day dresses and working some beads, but wanted to try to knit a sweater. When I mention it to Marion Elizabeth, she thought she would like to make one too. She was very good at knitting and also she was good at crocheting. She loved just about anything that required a needle of some kind. All us girls were able to knit and crochet.
I learned when I was about nine years old. My Mother made arrangements for a neighbor to teach cousin Etta and myself how to knit. We did practice to get a good grade, but I did not at the time make any thing. Did learn enough to say I could knit. It was crocheting that my Grandmother A taught me and I loved making dollies and the large ruffle ones were favorites.
It was after I married and had Taffy, that I made baby dresses. Grandmother made her a white nylon crochet baby dress and it was done in a pineapple pattern. I use it to make her one in cotton. Even made the slips to wear under the dresses in different color satin material. She looked so lovely in them.
Marion Elizabeth had made my Grandchildren Heather and Heidi a raglan pull over sweater and around the waist she knitted some paper dolls. The boys and girls were in a light color yarn and ever since then I had wanted a raglan sweater. I knew enough to think I could do it myself, but did not feel confident that it was even fit.
About eight years ago while shopping at Wal-Mart, I found two white sweaters. One was a raglan pull over in a plain knit style with short sleeves. It was just the right size and so soft and loved it. The second one was done in a rib from the neck to the waist and it was almost as nice, but a heavier yarn was used to make it. Which made it nice to wear on colder days.
When telling Her how much I loved the sweaters she made for the girls, she offered to help me, and assured me she could teach me and together we would each make a cardigan sweater. It did not take long for me to accept her offer. When I could get out to see about the yarn, what color, size of needles and marker she had told me to get.
The next trip to the clinic was my first chance to shop. Cindy took me and help me find what I needed and back to the house and I started to cast on stitches to the size eight needles I would be using. It did not take too long to get my tension adjusted and the next step was to chat Marion Elizabeth and she started to teach me. What to measure, and how to add the count to learn how many stitches I would need, which made me realize how easy it was to make me a sweater. That bit of info was a surprise and so very much solved a lot of problems for me.
It was a good thing Marion Elizabeth knew her stuff, as I did not know how to increased stitches to add new ones to the needles, I just could not understand how to add them till she said the magic word, do it again in the same stitch but in the back!!! It was the video she found for me to see and have to say I have had no more since.
What a joy it was to really know I could knit myself or any one a sweater. My sister is really a jewel. I have only the sleeves left to do. Then the final test will be to see if it fits. I do want a sweater that looks good and looks good on me. It does look like it will be a close fit. Even if it is not a good fit, I am so pleased Marion Elizabeth has taught me so I can do another one that just may be my best work to date. Now I want her to teach me how to make the paper dolls. I know she can teach me how that is done.
I have loved the computer to keep in touch with her and enjoy chatting with her. Never realize I could learn while chatting with her, and to tell you the truth, she is remarkable to even find videos to show me how a stitch is done, that is another eye opener, and a bigger lesson to aid me. So a big thank you to my sister Marion Elizabeth.
My sister Marion Elizabeth and I would chat every week day in the mornings on Yahoo IM. We would chat about what everyone was doing, who was coming, and what we would be planning to make next after we finish a project.
I had been sewing some day dresses and working some beads, but wanted to try to knit a sweater. When I mention it to Marion Elizabeth, she thought she would like to make one too. She was very good at knitting and also she was good at crocheting. She loved just about anything that required a needle of some kind. All us girls were able to knit and crochet.
I learned when I was about nine years old. My Mother made arrangements for a neighbor to teach cousin Etta and myself how to knit. We did practice to get a good grade, but I did not at the time make any thing. Did learn enough to say I could knit. It was crocheting that my Grandmother A taught me and I loved making dollies and the large ruffle ones were favorites.
It was after I married and had Taffy, that I made baby dresses. Grandmother made her a white nylon crochet baby dress and it was done in a pineapple pattern. I use it to make her one in cotton. Even made the slips to wear under the dresses in different color satin material. She looked so lovely in them.
Marion Elizabeth had made my Grandchildren Heather and Heidi a raglan pull over sweater and around the waist she knitted some paper dolls. The boys and girls were in a light color yarn and ever since then I had wanted a raglan sweater. I knew enough to think I could do it myself, but did not feel confident that it was even fit.
About eight years ago while shopping at Wal-Mart, I found two white sweaters. One was a raglan pull over in a plain knit style with short sleeves. It was just the right size and so soft and loved it. The second one was done in a rib from the neck to the waist and it was almost as nice, but a heavier yarn was used to make it. Which made it nice to wear on colder days.
When telling Her how much I loved the sweaters she made for the girls, she offered to help me, and assured me she could teach me and together we would each make a cardigan sweater. It did not take long for me to accept her offer. When I could get out to see about the yarn, what color, size of needles and marker she had told me to get.
The next trip to the clinic was my first chance to shop. Cindy took me and help me find what I needed and back to the house and I started to cast on stitches to the size eight needles I would be using. It did not take too long to get my tension adjusted and the next step was to chat Marion Elizabeth and she started to teach me. What to measure, and how to add the count to learn how many stitches I would need, which made me realize how easy it was to make me a sweater. That bit of info was a surprise and so very much solved a lot of problems for me.
It was a good thing Marion Elizabeth knew her stuff, as I did not know how to increased stitches to add new ones to the needles, I just could not understand how to add them till she said the magic word, do it again in the same stitch but in the back!!! It was the video she found for me to see and have to say I have had no more since.
What a joy it was to really know I could knit myself or any one a sweater. My sister is really a jewel. I have only the sleeves left to do. Then the final test will be to see if it fits. I do want a sweater that looks good and looks good on me. It does look like it will be a close fit. Even if it is not a good fit, I am so pleased Marion Elizabeth has taught me so I can do another one that just may be my best work to date. Now I want her to teach me how to make the paper dolls. I know she can teach me how that is done.
I have loved the computer to keep in touch with her and enjoy chatting with her. Never realize I could learn while chatting with her, and to tell you the truth, she is remarkable to even find videos to show me how a stitch is done, that is another eye opener, and a bigger lesson to aid me. So a big thank you to my sister Marion Elizabeth.
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| Yarn and Knitting Needles |
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Spring Training by Richard
[Editor's note: This story was written by Richard]
Frances and I made our annual spring training trip to Scottsdale, Arizona March 15th for a week. The flight time from San Jose,Ca to Phoenix, AZ was one hour and 45 minutes.
The weather in Arizona was warm and the nights were so nice you could walk around with out a sweater.
There are 15 Major League professional baseball teams in the greater Phoenix area.
The freeway system in the greater Phoenix area allows you to reach any ball park within an hour by car. We were able to see 6 games and 5 were in Scottsdale,AZ.
It was good to see all the baseball fans and to enjoy the food, a cool beer and all the loud noise. When the baseball games were over we stopped by a local bar to have anther cool beer and and to talk with other fans. Then it was time to clean up and rest before going out again for dinner.
The week went by so fast, and it was time to pack up, and fly home to recharge our batteries for our next trip.
Frances and I made our annual spring training trip to Scottsdale, Arizona March 15th for a week. The flight time from San Jose,Ca to Phoenix, AZ was one hour and 45 minutes.
The weather in Arizona was warm and the nights were so nice you could walk around with out a sweater.
There are 15 Major League professional baseball teams in the greater Phoenix area.
- The San Francisco Giants, Arizona Diamondbacks and Colorado Rockies play in Scottsdale,AZ.
- The San Diego Padres,and the Seattle Mariners play in Peoria,AZ,
- The Milwaukee Brewers, Los Angeles Dodgers, Chicago White Sox,and the Oakland A's play in Phoenix, AZ.
- The Texas Rangers and Kansas City Royals play in Surprise,AZ.
- The Cleveland Indians and the Cincinnati Reds play in Goodyear, AZ.
- Last but not least the beloved Chicago Cubs play in Mesa AZ.
The freeway system in the greater Phoenix area allows you to reach any ball park within an hour by car. We were able to see 6 games and 5 were in Scottsdale,AZ.
It was good to see all the baseball fans and to enjoy the food, a cool beer and all the loud noise. When the baseball games were over we stopped by a local bar to have anther cool beer and and to talk with other fans. Then it was time to clean up and rest before going out again for dinner.
The week went by so fast, and it was time to pack up, and fly home to recharge our batteries for our next trip.
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| MLB Cactus League |
Saturday, April 16, 2011
April
Each month of the calendar and it's season becomes my favorite as I live it, however June is my birth month and I apply an enthusiasm to the days in June not given to the rest of the calendar. I look forward to sharing that same excitement when the birthdays of my parents and siblings rolls around.
Birthdays are a private matter with a quality not attached to holidays or anniversaries. Often times a day becomes special for sentimental reasons and as years pass, each of us acquire special days that belong to us alone, that we recall with pleasure. Sentimental days come and go, depending on their importance in one's life, but many last long after the reason for the sentiment has passed. One such day lives in my memory, as vivid today as it happened many years ago.
My husband and I were living in a small hamlet a few miles outside Paris after traveling extensively in Italy and living in Paris for a year. Our life in the small cottage with its cherry orchard and surrounding fields was so idyllic we rarely took the train into Paris.
When the month of April rolled around, the spring days were so lovely and the air was like wine with the fragrance of blossoms. One couldn't help but think of poems of April and the song, April In Paris.
Having been in Rome during April the year before, I wanted to spend a weekend in Paris. Reasons for not going were valid and as the days of April came and went, it looked as if my romantic idea of a Paris in April was going to come to naught. As luck would have it though, we were able to spend the last day of April in the city.
I have no idea why I should remember that day over others; nothing of great importance happened, nor do I remember all the things we did that day, but walking down the boulevards on that April day has lived in my memory all these years.
The day was a mixture of sparkling sunshine, a sprinkling of rain, and flurries of snow with wind gusts strong enough to send one's hat flying. As we walked along the sidewalk, buying bunches of violets from street vendors, we encountered all of the above as we walked from one corner to the next, and we couldn't help but laugh at the capriciousness of spring in Paris.
Birthdays are a private matter with a quality not attached to holidays or anniversaries. Often times a day becomes special for sentimental reasons and as years pass, each of us acquire special days that belong to us alone, that we recall with pleasure. Sentimental days come and go, depending on their importance in one's life, but many last long after the reason for the sentiment has passed. One such day lives in my memory, as vivid today as it happened many years ago.
My husband and I were living in a small hamlet a few miles outside Paris after traveling extensively in Italy and living in Paris for a year. Our life in the small cottage with its cherry orchard and surrounding fields was so idyllic we rarely took the train into Paris.
When the month of April rolled around, the spring days were so lovely and the air was like wine with the fragrance of blossoms. One couldn't help but think of poems of April and the song, April In Paris.
Having been in Rome during April the year before, I wanted to spend a weekend in Paris. Reasons for not going were valid and as the days of April came and went, it looked as if my romantic idea of a Paris in April was going to come to naught. As luck would have it though, we were able to spend the last day of April in the city.
I have no idea why I should remember that day over others; nothing of great importance happened, nor do I remember all the things we did that day, but walking down the boulevards on that April day has lived in my memory all these years.
The day was a mixture of sparkling sunshine, a sprinkling of rain, and flurries of snow with wind gusts strong enough to send one's hat flying. As we walked along the sidewalk, buying bunches of violets from street vendors, we encountered all of the above as we walked from one corner to the next, and we couldn't help but laugh at the capriciousness of spring in Paris.
Saturday, April 09, 2011
He’s My Grandfather by Esther
[Editor's note: This story was written by Esther]
Taffy was about two and maybe three years old and she was an easy going child when she had company come to spend time with her. She loved to share all her toys with them. Her favorite toy was the set of poker chips her Uncle Jerry gave her. He had come to spend several days with us. And Taffy would watch him and her father Vernon, play cards and she wanted to play with them. It was not long before Jerry knew he had lost them and gave them to her.
Of course he also knew he had to leave some of his stuff with me as he wanted to make several trips he had plans for and when he was ready to head back home he could collect everything and head out for other parts of the country. He did like to travel Loved seeing other places, and why not , as he was foot loose and free to go. As long as the money held out.
Taffy treasured her poker chips. She would roll them, stack them, and put them back in the tote tray they came in. She was so fascinated with them and spent hours with them. She learn to count with them.
Taffy loved to go places too. One of her favorite places, was going to see her Grand Parents at the Sky Ranch. She was going to stay with Grandma while Vernon and I went shopping.
Mom loved having the grandchildren. And seeing Marion there and found out she was leaving Skippy there too, made it quite nice for Taffy, as she had her play mate to spend the day with her too.
Skippy was Marion’s son. He was about four and maybe a bit more, and I loved that child as if he was my own. When ever Marion would let me keep him , I would bundle him up and head for home and he was a wonderful child to have. He had red hair and was a happy baby. Even Vernon liked having him around and loved having them walk up and down his back.
When Vernon and I got back to pick up Taffy, it was a shock to know Taffy had taken a two by four length of wood and hit Skippy over the head and knock him out. I just could not believe Taffy ever could be that angry to any one. But Dad and Mom both assured me she had done it. Taffy did not deny it.
Dad had said he heard the children arguing over his hat in the front room The hat was the source of the problem. It seems the hat started the argument. Taffy or Skippy made the statement, “ that hat belongs to my Grandfather “ and Taffy said, “ No that is “ My Grandfather’s hat. “ And to this day, I am not too sure either one of them have changed their mind.
Where did Taffy get the two by four? This was the time Dad was building a new floor under the house which sat on top of the mountain and the back side was built over the ground on stilts and the front of the house was set on the top of the ground. So Dad and the boys were helping him do the work.
Skippy got the worse of the deal, and I was so sorry he was hurt. The Sky Ranch did hold so many good memories of good times, and this was one that every one remembers and can smile about today. Even today if I could, I would gather up Skippy and bundle him up and carry him home to spend several days of just enjoying him play and learning new games.
Taffy was about two and maybe three years old and she was an easy going child when she had company come to spend time with her. She loved to share all her toys with them. Her favorite toy was the set of poker chips her Uncle Jerry gave her. He had come to spend several days with us. And Taffy would watch him and her father Vernon, play cards and she wanted to play with them. It was not long before Jerry knew he had lost them and gave them to her.
Of course he also knew he had to leave some of his stuff with me as he wanted to make several trips he had plans for and when he was ready to head back home he could collect everything and head out for other parts of the country. He did like to travel Loved seeing other places, and why not , as he was foot loose and free to go. As long as the money held out.
Taffy treasured her poker chips. She would roll them, stack them, and put them back in the tote tray they came in. She was so fascinated with them and spent hours with them. She learn to count with them.
Taffy loved to go places too. One of her favorite places, was going to see her Grand Parents at the Sky Ranch. She was going to stay with Grandma while Vernon and I went shopping.
Mom loved having the grandchildren. And seeing Marion there and found out she was leaving Skippy there too, made it quite nice for Taffy, as she had her play mate to spend the day with her too.
Skippy was Marion’s son. He was about four and maybe a bit more, and I loved that child as if he was my own. When ever Marion would let me keep him , I would bundle him up and head for home and he was a wonderful child to have. He had red hair and was a happy baby. Even Vernon liked having him around and loved having them walk up and down his back.
When Vernon and I got back to pick up Taffy, it was a shock to know Taffy had taken a two by four length of wood and hit Skippy over the head and knock him out. I just could not believe Taffy ever could be that angry to any one. But Dad and Mom both assured me she had done it. Taffy did not deny it.
Dad had said he heard the children arguing over his hat in the front room The hat was the source of the problem. It seems the hat started the argument. Taffy or Skippy made the statement, “ that hat belongs to my Grandfather “ and Taffy said, “ No that is “ My Grandfather’s hat. “ And to this day, I am not too sure either one of them have changed their mind.
Where did Taffy get the two by four? This was the time Dad was building a new floor under the house which sat on top of the mountain and the back side was built over the ground on stilts and the front of the house was set on the top of the ground. So Dad and the boys were helping him do the work.
Skippy got the worse of the deal, and I was so sorry he was hurt. The Sky Ranch did hold so many good memories of good times, and this was one that every one remembers and can smile about today. Even today if I could, I would gather up Skippy and bundle him up and carry him home to spend several days of just enjoying him play and learning new games.
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| Poker Chips |
Saturday, April 02, 2011
What Folly!
What Folly!
What Folly!
To create a power so great
That if unleashed
None would equate.
What Folly
we have caused
When we forged ahead
And never paused.
What Folly
Thinking to contain
The rippling fusion
And the chains.
What Folly
To think we knew!
But nature's thrust
Threw all askew.
What Folly
Now an all consuming
taint prevails
On ruins the unseen
Terror does entail.
What Folly
Uncharted misery
Dispels the myth
And for ever afters
There's a curse
We can never lift.
Marion Bigelow March 2011
What Folly!
To create a power so great
That if unleashed
None would equate.
What Folly
we have caused
When we forged ahead
And never paused.
What Folly
Thinking to contain
The rippling fusion
And the chains.
What Folly
To think we knew!
But nature's thrust
Threw all askew.
What Folly
Now an all consuming
taint prevails
On ruins the unseen
Terror does entail.
What Folly
Uncharted misery
Dispels the myth
And for ever afters
There's a curse
We can never lift.
Marion Bigelow March 2011
Saturday, March 26, 2011
A Grandmother's Love by KimB
[Editor's Note: This story was written by KimB]
Growing up, my brother and I lived as often with Grandmother and Grandfather as we did with Mom. Being with Grams and Gramps was just as much “home” as when we lived with Mom. There was never a lot of money but we never went hungry. Mom, Grandmother and Grandfather saw to that.
Grandmother always fixed a “proper” meal and when with her, we had to behave and sit at the table until dinner was over. Even if there were cartoons on TV, we had to sit until everyone was finished. At times, being the youngest, I was spared the long dinners and ate in the kitchen, where, while fingers were admonished, I could still shovel in the food in order to get back to watching Mickey Mouse and other favorites while the adults were busy sitting in the dinning room.
There must be something about grandmothers that their food is always “better”. Grams dinners were always fantastic, even everyday dinners were special. Times and finances dictated what would be served but regardless of the selection, it always tasted wonderful. I don't remember balking at eating what was served very often, the exception was canned asparagus but thankfully that wasn't served often. I think turkey was the most common item on the table. They would buy a whole bunch of frozen turkeys when on sale and keep them in the freezer.
Grandmother and Grandfather always had loads of company. Me, Mom, my brother, various Uncles and Aunts and other relatives would drop in or be staying with them for visits. It was always a full house and those saved up turkeys came in handy. A turkey could feed the whole shootin' match with something for everyone. Grandmother would fix all the trimmings, even in July. There would be stuffing and mashed potatoes and gravy made from roasting pan drippings and real diced up giblets too.
The cranberry relish was my favorite and still is. She had this hand crank grinder from the beginning of time (or just about) and she would put in fresh cranberries in the hopper. If I was especially good, she would let me turn the crank. Then she would select a nice orange and cut that into quarters and place that in the hopper, peel and all would be added to the crushed berries. Lastly some sugar was added and it was placed in the fridge until dinner time. Tart, sweet, crunchy – it was the BEST.
There was always a bit of rivalry about Grandmother's Turkey Dinners. At various times, other members of the family would host Turkey Dinners with pot-luck side dishes contributed by those attending. Comparisons would inevitably arise and hurt feelings were sure to follow. No one could match Grandmother and that was just that. No matter how perfect the gravy or tender the turkey, no one would dare to praise it above Grandmother's dinners.
Now, to be honest, some of those dinners were excellent but there was always a missing ingredient. A Grandmother's Love cannot be duplicated and that was the magic ingredient in every meal she prepared.
Growing up, my brother and I lived as often with Grandmother and Grandfather as we did with Mom. Being with Grams and Gramps was just as much “home” as when we lived with Mom. There was never a lot of money but we never went hungry. Mom, Grandmother and Grandfather saw to that.
Grandmother always fixed a “proper” meal and when with her, we had to behave and sit at the table until dinner was over. Even if there were cartoons on TV, we had to sit until everyone was finished. At times, being the youngest, I was spared the long dinners and ate in the kitchen, where, while fingers were admonished, I could still shovel in the food in order to get back to watching Mickey Mouse and other favorites while the adults were busy sitting in the dinning room.
There must be something about grandmothers that their food is always “better”. Grams dinners were always fantastic, even everyday dinners were special. Times and finances dictated what would be served but regardless of the selection, it always tasted wonderful. I don't remember balking at eating what was served very often, the exception was canned asparagus but thankfully that wasn't served often. I think turkey was the most common item on the table. They would buy a whole bunch of frozen turkeys when on sale and keep them in the freezer.
Grandmother and Grandfather always had loads of company. Me, Mom, my brother, various Uncles and Aunts and other relatives would drop in or be staying with them for visits. It was always a full house and those saved up turkeys came in handy. A turkey could feed the whole shootin' match with something for everyone. Grandmother would fix all the trimmings, even in July. There would be stuffing and mashed potatoes and gravy made from roasting pan drippings and real diced up giblets too.
The cranberry relish was my favorite and still is. She had this hand crank grinder from the beginning of time (or just about) and she would put in fresh cranberries in the hopper. If I was especially good, she would let me turn the crank. Then she would select a nice orange and cut that into quarters and place that in the hopper, peel and all would be added to the crushed berries. Lastly some sugar was added and it was placed in the fridge until dinner time. Tart, sweet, crunchy – it was the BEST.
There was always a bit of rivalry about Grandmother's Turkey Dinners. At various times, other members of the family would host Turkey Dinners with pot-luck side dishes contributed by those attending. Comparisons would inevitably arise and hurt feelings were sure to follow. No one could match Grandmother and that was just that. No matter how perfect the gravy or tender the turkey, no one would dare to praise it above Grandmother's dinners.
Now, to be honest, some of those dinners were excellent but there was always a missing ingredient. A Grandmother's Love cannot be duplicated and that was the magic ingredient in every meal she prepared.
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| Grandmother and Grandfather Abbott Lucinda G. Abbott Aug 7 1902 - Jul 9 2001 Herod E. Abbott Oct 3 1900 - May 20 2001 |
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Mimi
Mimi has gone off with a river boat gambler. She left surreptitiously. She went missing the evening of the super moon. At first we thought she might be napping but when she didn't show up for supper, we looked for her in her favorite rooms, then realized that she was gone.
This is not the first time Mimi has been lured away when the moon was full. During the hurricane Ike, she left and was gone for a month. She came back disheveled and seedy looking, and not entirely repentant. Of course we took her in. It was the only humane thing to do under the circumstances. We never did learn much about her time away, but she seemed happy to be home again.
From time to time recently I had noticed a slight change in attitude and assumed she was getting bored with the same old conversations, and the long winter days. We were all experiencing a restlessness waiting for spring and the blossoming of new growth on trees and foliage.
As a change of pace I took to knitting and had long conversations on the computer with my sister in Baton Rouge. Consequently, Mimi must have felt a little ignored and when the opportunity presented itself, she took it and skipped the ship.
I can only hope she weathers the strife and storms of day to day living with a river boat gambler. Perhaps after the excitement of being romanced by moonlight wears off, she will decide to trade that life for one she left behind and come back home. We will take her in again, (of course) and will treat her fatuity as a thing of the past.
This is not the first time Mimi has been lured away when the moon was full. During the hurricane Ike, she left and was gone for a month. She came back disheveled and seedy looking, and not entirely repentant. Of course we took her in. It was the only humane thing to do under the circumstances. We never did learn much about her time away, but she seemed happy to be home again.
From time to time recently I had noticed a slight change in attitude and assumed she was getting bored with the same old conversations, and the long winter days. We were all experiencing a restlessness waiting for spring and the blossoming of new growth on trees and foliage.
As a change of pace I took to knitting and had long conversations on the computer with my sister in Baton Rouge. Consequently, Mimi must have felt a little ignored and when the opportunity presented itself, she took it and skipped the ship.
I can only hope she weathers the strife and storms of day to day living with a river boat gambler. Perhaps after the excitement of being romanced by moonlight wears off, she will decide to trade that life for one she left behind and come back home. We will take her in again, (of course) and will treat her fatuity as a thing of the past.
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| Super Moon 03 19 2011 |
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Indian Head Pennies and Buffalo Nickles
Yesterday, while walking across a large parking lot to our car, one of the people with me stopped to pick up a coin. I asked if it was a penny and they said no, it was a nickle. As a joke, I asked if it was a Buffalo Nickle. It wasn't.
As a child, both Indian Head pennies and Buffalo nickles were were so plentiful, we never considered collecting them. The only thing I thought of collecting was autographs. The little autograph books were inexpensive and every school child had one. Mine was filled with signatures of family and school friends. Obviously, I gave little care to protecting and saving them because I seemed to get new ones frequently.
I did have a small collection of handkerchiefs; presents from family and school chums. I prized the ones grandmother A sent me in the mail. During the great depression, fancy handkerchiefs with lace edging and embroidered flowers, pinned to cardboard backing and tied with ribbons, were offered for sale at Christmas time.
Aside from the collection of salt and pepper shakers of a neighbor, the only other collection I knew about was the stuffed birds in the high school biology room. There were no song birds in the collection. They had no identifying labels and were of varying sizes. They were a mystery except for the pheasant and ducks which were familiar to me. The stuffed birds sat next to each other on a shelf that continued around all four walls of the room. They were never discussed in class, neither did our teacher know much about them. They were just there.
I once attended a lecture about the contribution collectors make to society. The reasons people collect range from complex to to the simple fact that it's an enjoyable hobby. I, myself do not have the 'collector gene', but appreciate the work of those that do have it.
Collections of everything and anything can be found in the most unlikely places. I once came across a collection of egg shells in Bloomington, California. There were thousands, each labeled and nesting in a padded box of its own. There used to be an exquisite collection of diamonds in every color on display at the Los Angeles County Museum.
Some of the many types of collections are coin, stamps, shells, rocks, baseball cards and chess sets. The churches of Europe collect bones, supposedly of Biblical persons and Saints which I saw when touring the churches there. If seeing them paves one's way into heaven, perhaps those pearly gates will open for me.
As a child, both Indian Head pennies and Buffalo nickles were were so plentiful, we never considered collecting them. The only thing I thought of collecting was autographs. The little autograph books were inexpensive and every school child had one. Mine was filled with signatures of family and school friends. Obviously, I gave little care to protecting and saving them because I seemed to get new ones frequently.
I did have a small collection of handkerchiefs; presents from family and school chums. I prized the ones grandmother A sent me in the mail. During the great depression, fancy handkerchiefs with lace edging and embroidered flowers, pinned to cardboard backing and tied with ribbons, were offered for sale at Christmas time.
Aside from the collection of salt and pepper shakers of a neighbor, the only other collection I knew about was the stuffed birds in the high school biology room. There were no song birds in the collection. They had no identifying labels and were of varying sizes. They were a mystery except for the pheasant and ducks which were familiar to me. The stuffed birds sat next to each other on a shelf that continued around all four walls of the room. They were never discussed in class, neither did our teacher know much about them. They were just there.
I once attended a lecture about the contribution collectors make to society. The reasons people collect range from complex to to the simple fact that it's an enjoyable hobby. I, myself do not have the 'collector gene', but appreciate the work of those that do have it.
Collections of everything and anything can be found in the most unlikely places. I once came across a collection of egg shells in Bloomington, California. There were thousands, each labeled and nesting in a padded box of its own. There used to be an exquisite collection of diamonds in every color on display at the Los Angeles County Museum.
Some of the many types of collections are coin, stamps, shells, rocks, baseball cards and chess sets. The churches of Europe collect bones, supposedly of Biblical persons and Saints which I saw when touring the churches there. If seeing them paves one's way into heaven, perhaps those pearly gates will open for me.
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| Gem Collection Natural History Museum Los Angeles County |
Thursday, March 17, 2011
For Heaven's Sake!
Let's shut down the nuclear plants and stop building new ones!
In light of the events that are on-going in Japan, it makes no sense to build more of these things!
On March 16, 2011 in Victoria, Texas, the Atomic Safety and Licensing Board held the first day of a two day hearing to consider a Chicago based corporation, Exelon's proposal to build a nuclear plant on the Guadeloupe river.
Houston environmental attorney, Jim Blackburn, representing Texans for a Sound Energy Policy (TSEP) gave a very good speech in opposition to the new nuclear plant.
Here are some key points:
I think the Japanese Nuclear Companies said the same thing and it turns out they CANNOT "just shut them down".
The hearings will continue...
In light of the events that are on-going in Japan, it makes no sense to build more of these things!
On March 16, 2011 in Victoria, Texas, the Atomic Safety and Licensing Board held the first day of a two day hearing to consider a Chicago based corporation, Exelon's proposal to build a nuclear plant on the Guadeloupe river.
Houston environmental attorney, Jim Blackburn, representing Texans for a Sound Energy Policy (TSEP) gave a very good speech in opposition to the new nuclear plant.
Here are some key points:
... the position of Exelon, it does not matter if there is faulting, hundreds of oil and gas wells, toxic gas and methane and inadequate water supply as long as the power block itself is not directly affected. Additionally, there is a total disdain for instability and uncertainty of the geologic platform for this facility.
...we have a geologic platform of silt and clay that is riddled by fractures and oil and gas penetrations. The subsurface here is active. It has cracks. It is pressured in certain locations.
Exelon's proposed plan includes a cooling pond that is clearly crossed by two and potentially four subsurface faults. These faults clearly threaten the stability of the cooling pond.
...Exelon cannot guarantee water at all times .... Exelon clearly states that it will simply shut the plant down when the cooling pond levels are too low.
I think the Japanese Nuclear Companies said the same thing and it turns out they CANNOT "just shut them down".
The hearings will continue...
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| Victoria Texas Map shows the mostly likely areas of Nuclear Contamination. |
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Credibility
News of how Japan is coping with the catastrophic earthquake and tsunami is beginning to come to us in bits and pieces. Photos and videos are broadcast via television. Added to the enormity of the disaster, are reports of explosions in Japanese nuclear plants.
As the world struggles with the bewilderment of such a biblical act of nature, suddenly the realization of the hazards of nuclear radiation is seeping into our consciousness as insidiously as radiation particles seep into the atmosphere when the nuclear plants vent steam. The only reference we have is the aftermath of Hiroshima and Nagasaki and the disaster at Chernobyl.
One hears conflicting explanations of Japan's report that 'partial meltdowns' may be taking place. The press is understandably as confused as the listening audience, so they call on 'experts' to tell us in plain English what 'meltdown' means.
The word Credibility, is being banded about suggesting Japan may not be forthcoming in telling us all, or that our own 'experts' are reluctant to say how dangerous the scale of radiation has been.
Obviously in days to come we will know the true nature of the situation but I, personally have already formed the opinion that all nuclear energy plants should be shut down.
Fukushima Daiichi No.3 "Hydrogen" explosion March 13, 2011
As the world struggles with the bewilderment of such a biblical act of nature, suddenly the realization of the hazards of nuclear radiation is seeping into our consciousness as insidiously as radiation particles seep into the atmosphere when the nuclear plants vent steam. The only reference we have is the aftermath of Hiroshima and Nagasaki and the disaster at Chernobyl.
One hears conflicting explanations of Japan's report that 'partial meltdowns' may be taking place. The press is understandably as confused as the listening audience, so they call on 'experts' to tell us in plain English what 'meltdown' means.
The word Credibility, is being banded about suggesting Japan may not be forthcoming in telling us all, or that our own 'experts' are reluctant to say how dangerous the scale of radiation has been.
Obviously in days to come we will know the true nature of the situation but I, personally have already formed the opinion that all nuclear energy plants should be shut down.
Fukushima Daiichi No.3 "Hydrogen" explosion March 13, 2011
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Decoy Autos
The evening television news reported that city police have resorted to using decoy police cars in an attempt to cut down on the number of drivers running red lights. The news reporter named most of the intersections where the cars will be located as well as several other major high traffic areas.
For some time, cameras were used to film drivers running red lights. Photos, being proof of their having done so, resulted in fines, which in turn furnished the city with hefty revenues. During the last election, the initiative to ban all traffic cameras finally won, and all the cameras have been removed. Now the police hope decoy cars will alert drivers not to speed thru intersections that 'woulda, shoulda, coulda' resulted in a traffic ticket.
Seeing a police car in the nearby vicinity of where one is driving will automatically alert one to driving hazards, and if speeding, slow down. On many occasions, I have driven miles behind a police car controlling traffic by driving the posted limit. Only when the police car veered off on an exit ramp, did any of the drivers following behind speed up from the posted limit.
In long ago days, I often drove highway 101 to and from San Francisco’s peninsula to southern California. There was a small town in the middle of a long expanse of highway that rarely had drivers stopping for gasoline, food or motel services. The highway ran along the edge of the town which posted speed limits but they were generally ignored.
One day as I drove south, I saw a 'black and white' parked at right angles to the highway so that it could be identified as a police car from some distance away. There was no question about it. A police car was waiting for a speeder. Of course I slowed down.
You can imagine my surprise to see that when I passed the 'black and white', it was only a cutout in plywood that had been painted like a police car. It was so realistic that it only became a cutout when the driver was within feet of it. It became one of my favorite things to notice as I drove thru the beautiful and changing landscape.
One of the favorite devices police use to catch and fine drivers is hiding their autos in nooks an crannies off the traditional highways and byways. The moment a driver fails to stop at a stop sign or runs a light, or when a radar gun registers speed above the allowed limit, a police siren or spotlight warns the driver to pull over to the side of the road and show his driver's license while the officer writes a ticket.
I had an experience many years ago when the above happened to me and I forgot to pay the ticket. Some weeks later I got my renewed drivers license in the mail and being in a hurry, I only glanced at it and put it in my purse. That evening I casually mentioned to visitors that the state had redesigned the new drivers license and I passed it around for them to see.
You can imagine my shock and dismay when I was told it wasn't my new license but a notice of my arrest if I didn't pay the fine!
For some time, cameras were used to film drivers running red lights. Photos, being proof of their having done so, resulted in fines, which in turn furnished the city with hefty revenues. During the last election, the initiative to ban all traffic cameras finally won, and all the cameras have been removed. Now the police hope decoy cars will alert drivers not to speed thru intersections that 'woulda, shoulda, coulda' resulted in a traffic ticket.
Seeing a police car in the nearby vicinity of where one is driving will automatically alert one to driving hazards, and if speeding, slow down. On many occasions, I have driven miles behind a police car controlling traffic by driving the posted limit. Only when the police car veered off on an exit ramp, did any of the drivers following behind speed up from the posted limit.
In long ago days, I often drove highway 101 to and from San Francisco’s peninsula to southern California. There was a small town in the middle of a long expanse of highway that rarely had drivers stopping for gasoline, food or motel services. The highway ran along the edge of the town which posted speed limits but they were generally ignored.
One day as I drove south, I saw a 'black and white' parked at right angles to the highway so that it could be identified as a police car from some distance away. There was no question about it. A police car was waiting for a speeder. Of course I slowed down.
You can imagine my surprise to see that when I passed the 'black and white', it was only a cutout in plywood that had been painted like a police car. It was so realistic that it only became a cutout when the driver was within feet of it. It became one of my favorite things to notice as I drove thru the beautiful and changing landscape.
One of the favorite devices police use to catch and fine drivers is hiding their autos in nooks an crannies off the traditional highways and byways. The moment a driver fails to stop at a stop sign or runs a light, or when a radar gun registers speed above the allowed limit, a police siren or spotlight warns the driver to pull over to the side of the road and show his driver's license while the officer writes a ticket.
I had an experience many years ago when the above happened to me and I forgot to pay the ticket. Some weeks later I got my renewed drivers license in the mail and being in a hurry, I only glanced at it and put it in my purse. That evening I casually mentioned to visitors that the state had redesigned the new drivers license and I passed it around for them to see.
You can imagine my shock and dismay when I was told it wasn't my new license but a notice of my arrest if I didn't pay the fine!
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| Pierre Vivant's Traffic Light Tree Canary Wharf London |
Saturday, March 05, 2011
The Best Vacation Ever by KimB
[Editor's Note: This story was written by KimB]
Mexico has many many travel and vacation spots. And even 40 years ago many of them were famous get-away locations featuring Sun, Food, Music, Entertainment and The Ocean. One of the more famous ones is Acapulco. All the movie stars from the USA went there and the magazines were full of their doings and escapades. It was THE HOT SPOT to go to and getting reservations for hotel rooms was almost impossible.
Acapulco is located about 200 miles southwest of Mexico City on the Pacific Ocean and has beautiful beaches surrounded by steep hillsides and cliffs. The La Quebrada Cliff Divers are famous for their plunges from the high cliffs surrounding the bay, timing their dives with an incoming wave. The temperature is generally hot all year round and the tropical climate is totally different from that of the high altitude of Mexico City: hot and steamy.
One day Mom came in with great news! She'd managed to snag a two week reservation for the both of us at an inexpensive hotel near one of the beaches and just a short drive up a steep winding street. We started celebrating our good fortunes and planned for a wonderful vacation on a shoe-string-budget. I wondered if I would see any Hollywood Stars and we planned sight-seeing and other activities for our trip to the famous spot.
We packed and planned and finally the day of departure came and we loaded up the van with all the things we thought we would need for our stay. And off we went. It was a long drive through jungles and flatlands and finally we came over the top of the mountain and saw Acapulco Bay. It was fantastic! We went to our hotel, checked in and started unpacking the van.
[Of course, you know an adventure is about to happen don't you?]
As we unpacked for our stay, Mom began to look for the box of books she had planned to read on our stay. But it was no where to be found and after much searching there was only one conclusion: We had left it behind. We found one old paperback and that was all there was to read. There was dismay at the thought of nothing to read for two weeks. Books were our primary source of entertainment. We had no money to go to the nightclubs and as I was only 11 years old, I couldn't go even if I wanted to.
We talked about making the long drive back to Mexico City to get books but the cost of gas would prohibit us from returning to finish our vacation. Mom was in a quandary about "What to do Percy"? At last, it was decided that we would stay and enjoy what we could and if things got too boring we would leave early.
Our hotel was perched high on a steep hillside and though we could not see the ocean we could smell the salt air and if we listened carefully we could hear the faint sounds of the waves crashing on the cliffs nearby. We had a very nice room with no air conditioning but a nice big fan and there was a hotel restaurant that served simple standard Mexican cuisine. There was a swimming pool that was shaded by large trees and during the day most of the hotel guests hung out there.
During the day it was so hot that all we wanted to do was sleep thru the heat. I discovered that most of the hotel guests left the pool around 5:00 pm to go nightclubbing or pursue other interests and I could have the pool all to myself. The water was warm from the heat of the day and it wasn't long til I persuaded Mom to come swimming late late at night. We got the hotel manager to let us keep the pool lights on and we would swim from 10 pm to 3 am. When we were finally tired of swimming and lounging we would turn the lights off as we headed back to our rooms.
Our fellow visitors were friendly and we would often be offered fresh made cold lemonade when we came out to the common patio areas. The food in the restaurant was good and I enjoyed eating many many meals there.
But the problem of the missing books was soon resolved in an unexpected manner. Because we had nothing to distract us, Siesta Time became Prime Time and boy, did we enjoy our siestas! We slept all day long, only getting up for a meal at the restaurant before it closed for the evening then napping until the night came when we went for our swim.
That was the mantra for the entire two weeks of vacation. We did make a few forays down the main boulevards and along the beaches but we didn't stay away long. The lure of our warm pool and nighttime swims was too strong.
I didn't see any Hollywood Stars but I had a wonderful time swimming in our “private pool” pretending that the hotel was our "personal villa". Mom, slept and slept and never even read the one old paperback we'd found. She had not realized how exhausted she was from all the painting she'd been doing. And after the initial shock of not having books, we both relaxed into a wonderful mental state where nothing was more important than: Sleep, Eat, Swim.
Our two weeks passed quickly, more quickly than we imagined when we first arrived. And we were both sorry to leave behind our magical experience. As we drove over the top of the mountains we stopped and looked back one more time at the beautiful landscape and bay.
Mom said, “This has been The Best Vacation Ever!”
And I couldn't have agreed with her more!
Mexico has many many travel and vacation spots. And even 40 years ago many of them were famous get-away locations featuring Sun, Food, Music, Entertainment and The Ocean. One of the more famous ones is Acapulco. All the movie stars from the USA went there and the magazines were full of their doings and escapades. It was THE HOT SPOT to go to and getting reservations for hotel rooms was almost impossible.
Acapulco is located about 200 miles southwest of Mexico City on the Pacific Ocean and has beautiful beaches surrounded by steep hillsides and cliffs. The La Quebrada Cliff Divers are famous for their plunges from the high cliffs surrounding the bay, timing their dives with an incoming wave. The temperature is generally hot all year round and the tropical climate is totally different from that of the high altitude of Mexico City: hot and steamy.
One day Mom came in with great news! She'd managed to snag a two week reservation for the both of us at an inexpensive hotel near one of the beaches and just a short drive up a steep winding street. We started celebrating our good fortunes and planned for a wonderful vacation on a shoe-string-budget. I wondered if I would see any Hollywood Stars and we planned sight-seeing and other activities for our trip to the famous spot.
We packed and planned and finally the day of departure came and we loaded up the van with all the things we thought we would need for our stay. And off we went. It was a long drive through jungles and flatlands and finally we came over the top of the mountain and saw Acapulco Bay. It was fantastic! We went to our hotel, checked in and started unpacking the van.
[Of course, you know an adventure is about to happen don't you?]
As we unpacked for our stay, Mom began to look for the box of books she had planned to read on our stay. But it was no where to be found and after much searching there was only one conclusion: We had left it behind. We found one old paperback and that was all there was to read. There was dismay at the thought of nothing to read for two weeks. Books were our primary source of entertainment. We had no money to go to the nightclubs and as I was only 11 years old, I couldn't go even if I wanted to.
We talked about making the long drive back to Mexico City to get books but the cost of gas would prohibit us from returning to finish our vacation. Mom was in a quandary about "What to do Percy"? At last, it was decided that we would stay and enjoy what we could and if things got too boring we would leave early.
Our hotel was perched high on a steep hillside and though we could not see the ocean we could smell the salt air and if we listened carefully we could hear the faint sounds of the waves crashing on the cliffs nearby. We had a very nice room with no air conditioning but a nice big fan and there was a hotel restaurant that served simple standard Mexican cuisine. There was a swimming pool that was shaded by large trees and during the day most of the hotel guests hung out there.
During the day it was so hot that all we wanted to do was sleep thru the heat. I discovered that most of the hotel guests left the pool around 5:00 pm to go nightclubbing or pursue other interests and I could have the pool all to myself. The water was warm from the heat of the day and it wasn't long til I persuaded Mom to come swimming late late at night. We got the hotel manager to let us keep the pool lights on and we would swim from 10 pm to 3 am. When we were finally tired of swimming and lounging we would turn the lights off as we headed back to our rooms.
Our fellow visitors were friendly and we would often be offered fresh made cold lemonade when we came out to the common patio areas. The food in the restaurant was good and I enjoyed eating many many meals there.
But the problem of the missing books was soon resolved in an unexpected manner. Because we had nothing to distract us, Siesta Time became Prime Time and boy, did we enjoy our siestas! We slept all day long, only getting up for a meal at the restaurant before it closed for the evening then napping until the night came when we went for our swim.
Sleep, Eat, Swim, Sleep, Eat, Swim, Sleep, Eat, Swim.
That was the mantra for the entire two weeks of vacation. We did make a few forays down the main boulevards and along the beaches but we didn't stay away long. The lure of our warm pool and nighttime swims was too strong.
I didn't see any Hollywood Stars but I had a wonderful time swimming in our “private pool” pretending that the hotel was our "personal villa". Mom, slept and slept and never even read the one old paperback we'd found. She had not realized how exhausted she was from all the painting she'd been doing. And after the initial shock of not having books, we both relaxed into a wonderful mental state where nothing was more important than: Sleep, Eat, Swim.
Our two weeks passed quickly, more quickly than we imagined when we first arrived. And we were both sorry to leave behind our magical experience. As we drove over the top of the mountains we stopped and looked back one more time at the beautiful landscape and bay.
Mom said, “This has been The Best Vacation Ever!”
And I couldn't have agreed with her more!
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| Acapulco Bay |
Wednesday, March 02, 2011
Mrs B's 2010 PDF book is HERE!
[Editor's Post]
Mrs B's Family Stories for 2010 is now available for download in a PDF format. All of the stories for 2010 are included.
Previous years stories are also available by the Download Link as well as the two cookbooks - one by MrsB and one by Esther!
Please feel free to download and share them with your family.
Click on the link in the download panel to get a copy.
Mrs B's Family Stories for 2010 is now available for download in a PDF format. All of the stories for 2010 are included.
Previous years stories are also available by the Download Link as well as the two cookbooks - one by MrsB and one by Esther!
Please feel free to download and share them with your family.
Click on the link in the download panel to get a copy.
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