March Madness

March Madness usually refers to the end of season basketball games. My March Madness is studying French from a free, online, beginning French class that can be found on iTunes The FrenchPodClass (http://www.frenchpodclass.com/ ) .

It’s a delightful and fun way to learn French and allows one to choose the degree of seriousness that suits best. I download the weekly lessons which are short, varied and not dependent on previous lessons. My approach is quite haphazard. I listen to the audio lesson while I skim thru the pdf pages. I enjoy the music selections, especially the songs by Edith Piaf. I love the way she rolls the French ‘r’.

This week we had three sentences to translate. I submitted my translations, (guesses), of the following three sentences. Sebastian, the instructor, will show us the correct translation next week. Perhaps some of my readers already know what the sentences say.

Taille tôt, taille tard, toujours en mars.
Sème tes poi à la saint Patrice, tu en auras tout ton caprice.
Quand mars se déguise en été, avril prend ses habits fourres.

(update : The game is now over and the results can be found at : http://www.frenchpodclass.com/index.php?post_id=68661&comments=on )

I’ve also discovered ‘widgets’’. There is a small widget engine that’s free which is required for the widgets to work. The FrenchPodClass has a widget of quotes in both French and English which I downloaded to my computer desktop. The widget has a timer that you can adjust that controls the display frequency of the quotations and sayings. It’ll show the quotation for a while then fade away and reappear later with a new quotation. If you get impatient you can lick on the triangle icon and get another quotation right away. There are proverbs based on the calendar year in French and there are idioms with English-French translations. You can also select different color backgrounds like white and green and even a transparent background so your desktop theme shows through! You can learn all about widgets from Yahoo since they have a great number for people to enjoy. They explain what they are and how to use them and they will help you create one if you are in the mood to do so. You can even share your widget with others if you choose.

(To download the Yahoo! Widget Engine go here: http://widgets.yahoo.com/ and The FrenchPodClass_Quotations Widget can be found here: http://www.widgetgallery.com/view.php?widget=38958 )

I really don’t have an ear for languages. I was painfully aware of this in high school when I took Latin as a freshman. The only thing enjoyable in that class was a toga party. My attempt at learning other languages has yielded meager success at best. I have rarely gotten past ‘Hello’ and ‘Goodbye’, along with an occasional phrase about cost, direction, food or weather.

Many years ago I listened to some German language records but never got past the question, “Where is the train station?” The mother of a friend once volunteered to teach me French but the only thing I learned was how to pronounce the word, ‘elephant’. When I studied Russian in college I learned how to say, ‘thank you’ and the first two words of the song, ‘Volga Boatmen’, (which is not an acceptable song since the communist revolution). The only thing in Spanish I know is, ‘My casa is your casa’.

All verbs in another language are irregular as far as I’m concerned. Word endings denoting masculine and feminine gender is beyond me. Pronunciation and writing French is proving difficult so I’m not spending a lot of time on that part of the course. The transcripts of the lessons have both French and English translations on the same page so I can fool myself into believing I’m truly learning the language!

À bientôt !

In Transition

I’m betwixt and between. I’ve temporarily re-located to Houston until my house in Orange is habitable and the damage caused by hurricane Rita, is repaired. Putting the house furnishings into a Houston storage unit was a major move and accomplished by family, friends and hired help.

My sister Esther, her daughter, Cindy and her husband, Arthur, came from Baton Rouge to help. Seeing them and getting hugs helped to assuage the anguish of down sizing. Selecting which things to keep was a challenge! I chose to give Esther many of my treasures since “The time has come to talk of other things…. Of shoes and ships and sealing wax, of cabbages and kings….”

The move was made over a long four day weekend, Thursday thru Sunday. Motel rooms in Orange were at a premium, but with luck and perseverance rooms for 8 people were reserved for the four days. Renting a U-haul truck and hiring men to load it was even more difficult. The company finally located a truck in Beaumont that would be available on Saturday morning. They were unable to deliver it to Orange or provide helpers, so my son took Cindy with him to pick it up. She drove his car back to Orange while he drove the truck. As for helpers, a friend from Houston that planned to help from Friday night thru Sunday brought her son and a friend of his to do the heavy lifting.

The motel was undergoing extensive repairs. Although the usual amenities were lacking, all available rooms were booked by workmen. The front desk was inundated with requests for toilet paper, towels, missing pieces of coffee pots, coffee packets and shampoo. Serving a continental breakfast for tenants was out of the question. To get to and from our rooms, we traversed corridors filled with cement dust and sawed lumber. Long hoses and bundles of wiring snaked around corners while the echo of hammering and buzzing of saws reverberated throughout large open areas that used to be lobbies and dining areas.

Storage was unavailable in Orange. Deciding to rent a storage unit in Houston was an emotional decision, but one that I finally had to make. After weighing pros and cons as constructively as I could, I knew the time had come. The weather was warming and work on the house could be done before temperatures reached the famous ‘highs’ of Texas and before another hurricane season started.

My son did the organizing with suggestions coming long distance from my daughter. He said it was like herding cats, but he managed to keep the project schedules on track from beginning to end. Considering the conditions and situation, he did a masterful job!

We didn’t have electricity or water at the house but we had brought enough bottles of water, fruit and snacks for munching as we worked. Breakfast was at MacDonald’s, the only eating place open for business between 8 and 9 in the morning. Wendy’s, near Wal-Mart’s parking area, was our choice for coffee, lunch and bathroom breaks. At dusk when we quit work, we either ordered pizza delivered to our motel rooms or stopped at fast food places to get ‘take out’ for eating at the motel. We planned to relax after supper playing our favorite card game, Spite and Malice, but we were too tired to do anything but shower and go to sleep. The routines of each day and evening were a repetition of the day before.

Cindy had towed a trailer to Orange so she could get the furniture pieces she had stored at my house. The men loaded her trailer at the same time they loaded the U-haul truck. By the time we were all ready to get the show on the road to Baton Rouge and Houston, I felt like I had run an Iroquois gauntlet!!!



I’m now in the process of finding a general contractor who can work with metal roofs. I have high hopes since talking on the phone with two contractors working in the area and hope they send me bids. Thank heaven I’m beginning to see a light at the end of the tunnel. My admiration of family members, who survived and adapted from untold crises more difficult than mine, increases daily. I marvel at the way they over came. I hope I can show the same spirit as I start a new facet of living in Texas!

The Dog Ate the Mail and the Sugar Plums!

Tessa Mesa wasn’t home the day her local post office manager made a momentous decision. Delivery of priority holiday packages addressed to box numbers was running past the promised delivery date so it was decided to deliver the packages to the homes of the addressees. Tessa Mesa’s package was left on her door step in the belief that it was safe from lurking thieves. The mail person didn’t know that Tessa Mesa would be out of town until late Christmas day.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Missy, the German shepherd left to guard the yard and house, was free to roam the grounds and inspect all packages left on door steps which meant tasting and eating contents of said packages. When Tessa Mesa returned home all she found were bits of colored red and blue boxes and bits of wrapping paper with my return address and labels saying, “Rum Sugar Plums”, and “Orange Sugar Plums”.

I received a phone call Christmas night with the above story, and asking me what sugar plums were, what they looked like, and how they were made. I told her it was a secret family recipe that I had promised never to divulge on pain of death or banishment from the clan.

Of course, it's not really a "secret family recipe" so I'm delighted to have put it in the following post...

Happy Holidays to All!

Sugar Plums

Tessa Mesa, (who lives in the wilds of Arizona north of Prescott,) has threatened to drag me and make me run along side her new pickup truck when we tour family cemeteries in Iowa during our genealogy quest this April unless I give her my recipe for Sugar Plums.

This is a currently popular, but very old recipe using dried fruits. Using an old fashioned food grinder or a modern food chopper, a thick paste is made by combining dried apricots, golden raisins, black currants, dried figs, dates and pecans. Flavorings such as Orange, Rum or Brandy are added. The paste is formed into marble sized balls and rolled in finely chopped nuts or finely chopped flake coconut.

Variations of the recipe are made by adding or subtracting the types of dried fruits, crystallized ginger, flavorings and extracts as well as the kinds of mixtures the balls are rolled in. Rather than grind the dates into the paste, pitted dates and citrus flavored pitted prunes can be stuffed with the apricot mixture. Taste and imagination determine portions of ingredients.

I hope the above recipe lets me have the back seat of the king cab all to myself!

Happy Holidays to All!

Apartment Living In Houston

When I made an inspection trip to see the damage to my house, it was a most stressful day! Not only is the damage ugly and extensive, SOMEONE HAS BURGLED THE HOUSE! Among the stolen items was my antique piano stool and quilt collection. A box containing gold colored Sacajawea dollars was emptied, but the box holding the money was left behind. The thief didn’t realize the box was more valuable than the few dollars they took. I can only hope more items in the house are not ear marked for another burglary attempt!

Until repairs on my house have been made, I’ll be staying in an apartment in Houston. Friends and family have loaned me furnishings, stocked the pantry and freezer and even hung bird feeders for bird watching! That’s one of the things I miss most, the variety of birds, especially the Cardinals, living in the woods outside my windows at home.

Houston’s city streets are decorated for the holidays and the shops are full of people. Night time is a kaleidoscope of colored lights and moving vehicles. One can’t help being enthused with holiday spirit!

The Houston Post Office gives hurricane evacuees a free post box for forwarded mail until they can return home. On days I check my mail, there are long lines of people waiting to mail holiday packages. If the size and number of packages could indicate the state of the country’s economy, I’d say we were in good shape!

I have a Harry Potter closet in my apartment and have decorated the doors with bells and bows. A small table top Christmas tree with ornaments and lights sits in a corner of my living room and when I turn off the radio which plays Christmas music 24/7, I practice playing Xmas carols on my violin.

There are thousands and thousands of evacuees in Houston; many of them are in dire straits. FEMA is attempting to limit the housing for evacuees but Houston’s city government is concerned that it will become known as the U.S. city with the most homeless people. I wish all the evacuees could be as well cared for as I am. When I feel sorry for myself, all I have to do is think of them and count my blessings!

The 12 Mile Road

While I wait for Fema and my insurance company to make it possible for me to return to Texas, I’ve enjoyed a routine of visiting a bookstore in Gilroy, California. We browse the book aisles for the best and the latest until tea time, and then we take our selections to the corner where tea is served and order cookies and carrot cake.

I look forward to the drive, especially a 12 mile stretch, straight as an arrow, thru cultivated fields with telephone poles bordering one side. The beauty of the fields is striking with acres of color ranging from freshly disked black earth to long silver rows of plastic with varying shades of green stretching to the base of the mountains beyond.

A few weeks ago, after the pumpkin fields were harvested, one could see spots of orange from a few that had been missed. It was only hours before the ground gave way to new plantings. Every inch of soil is cultivated, even to the edge of paved roads. This area is truly ‘the land of milk and honey’, but builders are coveting and building homes as fast as they can and the agricultural lands are diminishing every day. They don’t seem to realize we are losing the Golden Eggs the earth has given us, chunk by chunk as they buy up the fields and build fashionably large multi-million dollar homes for wealthy people.

As we enter the 12 mile stretch, we eagerly anticipate the sighting of hawks which are often seen perched on the telephone poles and wires, and occasionally on the ground of a fallow field. Sometimes we only count 3 or 4, but once we counted 8. They are difficult to identify because they perch between the insulators and we drive by so fast we get only glimpses of them. No matter how we strain our eyes, details of color elude us, but the white breast patches can be seen if they are facing us as we drive past. If their backs are toward us, their stance indicates they are ready for action if food is spotted.

While searching the internet for hawk photos I came across this photo which is like the hawks we see.

Visible Storage

I recently saw an exhibit at the Computer History Museum in Mt. View, California ( http://www.computerhistory.org/). What a delightful experience! The exhibit called, Mastering The Game, is a collection of computer chess sets showing the history and development of electronic chess boards ( http://www.computerhistory.org/chess/).

As an avid chess player, (learner status only), I enjoyed watching the film of the famous match between IBM’s Deep Blue and Kasparov, the highest rated player in the world. A portion of Deep Blue, in fact half of the actual computer, has been donated to the museum and stands near the collection of chess sets which includes the signed board used to play the match.

The first electronic chess boards were quite primitive compared to the constant innovations and ever changing developments in computer technology. The chess exhibition is only a part of the museum which gives tours by volunteer docents who explain in detail the history of computer invention and design.

After browsing the chess exhibit I joined a group tour that encompassed the Jacquard weaving looms, a precursor to electronic computing. The exhibit houses actual computers from the most primitive to the modern micro devices. With the advent of the transistor, massive machines with tubes requiring huge areas of floor space could be replaced by smaller machines which in turn led to innovations in design and materials. I suspect my new laptop with wifi connections is already obsolete as I recommend a visit to this remarkable museum.

Horses and Cattle

I recently visited with two extraordinary women. I’m impressed with their expertise in animal behavior, breeding practices and agricultural knowledge. Michelle runs a horse boarding facility and Darlene runs a small cattle and horse ranch. Each exhibits a confidence and responsibility that indicates a life long interest in their work. It takes only a moment’s conversation to realize both women love what they are doing and have been animal lovers all their lives.

Darlene and her husband live in a small rural community called Escalon. After leaving the central California coastal area and the beautiful rolling hills and mountains of Pacheco Pass in Santa Clara Valley, it’s a several hour drive thru the fertile San Joaquin Valley to Modesto, California.

Darlene was waiting for us at the Flying J truck stop in Modesto where we had a fabulous lunch. It had been a long time since I had seen Darlene. She and my daughter share an interest in horses and had sent me photos of themselves on trail rides. Our lunch conversation centered on horses, rodeos, dairy farming, haying, and stock auctions.

After a leisurely lunch we drove to the ‘farm’. Of course the first thing we did was visit the cattle and horses. Several years ago Darlene had purchased a 2 year old Black Angus bull at auction and he has grown into a huge animal! The size of his head is massive and a quite intimidating although Darlene says he isn’t aggressive. Even so, she says she keeps an eye on him when she is in a pen with the cows and he’s near by.

The cows are also Black Angus. Darlene showed us how gentle the cows are by petting those she had given names. The bull was also in the same pen and he barely paid her any attention, but when she opened the gate to leave the pen, the bull did take a step toward her and she just held out her hand to stop him. A very impressive display of control !!!

Darlene’s favorite horse is Nugget which she rides as often as possible. A 2 year old filly, that is the spitting image of Nugget, but sired by another, will start her training in the spring. We petted 20 year old Perry, a thirty thousand dollar dressage horse that has been retired and no longer ridden. He is over 16 hands and as gentle as a pussy cat!

The ranch is surrounded by large dairy farms. Sizes range from 200 Holstein cows to as many as 600. Darlene raises hay which means planting and cutting, but she gave us a long detailed description of ‘green chop’ which is what the dairies feed. Field corn is cut while still green. The entire plant is finely chopped then piled into huge mounds where tractors compact it. When all the oxygen and water has been squeezed out, forming a dry ‘cake’, it is stored under tarps or blown into giant tubes for later use. Covered mounds like giant Quonset huts and long, tubes, placed side by side, dot the fields, indicating dairy country.

Michelle’s horse facility is a hidden treasure. Just as one thinks they are lost at the end of a paved lane, shrubs reveal a curve in the road leading to a private horse boarding and training facility. A spacious parking area of sparkling white gravel is next to a large covered arena.

The pastures lie in a bowl surrounded by foothills and mountains. One’s first impression is one of extreme cleanliness with well placed barns, stalls and pens. Michelle owns 30 acres and boards a horse for each acre.

She is the single care taker and does all the work although her husband and children lend support and help at various times. While feeding apples and carrots to my daughter’s horse, Bailey, we had a chance to ‘shoot the breeze’ with Michelle and heard stories about Bailey’s funny conduct on the days she’s not visited.

She told us of her plans to plant several hundred trees along a fence line and pointed out which horses she plans to bring into the barns for the winter to fatten them up, but still turn them out daily for exercise.

We talked about which horse is the boss in the pasture, (which happens to be Bailey), and whether or not if a horse’ rear end is higher than its withers it indicates the horse is still growing. That was a bit of info I had never heard before! Now, every time I see a horse, I’ll probably start silently comparing derrieres to necks….just one more thing to pay attention to so I can pretend to know more than I do about horses.

Hats off to both Darlene and Michelle! They are resourceful and charming women and I’m lucky to know them.

Living off The Land

At the end of November when I return to Texas, I’ll be facing decisions about house repairs and whether to buy a car to replace the stolen one, or use the senior bus and save money on car insurance and gasoline.

In the meantime, I’m enjoying life in the fast lane and living off the land at lunch time. When I mention the ‘fast lane’ I’m referring to the never ending ribbons of traffic on all the major thoroughfares of northern California. Back home in rural Texas, heavy traffic is when three or four cars are stopped for a red light at commute time. Here in the Bay Area, multiple lanes in both directions are bumper to bumper with vehicles, day and night.

The foothills and mountains of the San Francisco peninsula are cuffed and tied together with twisting concrete ropes, each promising a shorter road to beach towns. At night car lights paint strips of yellow/white in one direction, and red going in reverse.

If two or more people are in a car, the driver can use the ‘fast’ lane. It can be a breathtaking ride as slower lanes of traffic recede backward while clipping along at the maximum speed limit several car lengths behind the car in front. In rain, it’s even more breathtaking! I’ve taken to praying more than usual.

While I have been an ‘evacuee’, I’ve enjoyed delightful meals with friends and co-workers of family members who have graciously invited me to experience their traditional and special ethnic cuisine. I’ve also had the opportunity to join many of them for lunches at their favorite restaurants. So far I’ve enjoyed Russian, Mongolian, Greek, Chinese Fusion and both the Northern and Southern foods of India which can rival the hot chili dishes of Mexico. California organic, and wild Alaskan are important in the recipes my family serves. What fun to live off the land! So many choices, so little time!

Luck and Good Fortune

I consider myself the luckiest of people! I’m blessed with a loving family, wonderful friends and neighbors who are salt of the earth! While the hurricane, Rita, created havoc along the Texas coast, uprooting trees, ripping roofs off houses, demolishing basic community services, and leaving the area uninhabitable, I was enjoying the dry desert mountain air of Arizona.

My first evacuation occurred when Rita was declared a cat 5 hurricane and my son suggested I come to Houston and wait out the hurricane in his apartment. 18 hours later, Houston had to evacuate and I was on the move again. My son evacuated to Austin, but I accepted a cousin’s invitation to visit her in Arizona.

L, (aka Mesa Tessa) owns a mini ranch miles from civilization as we know it. There is no living off the land by patronizing fast food restaurants like Wendy’s, McDonalds, Burger King, or Jack in the Box. She drives ten miles to pick up her mail at a tiny branch post office and thirty miles to Prescott for groceries.

While we watched television coverage of Katrina survivors in New Orleans, the Bush administration finally kicked into gear as the scope of the catastrophe became apparent. As people of all ages and ethnic backgrounds suffered hunger, thirst, and helplessness in the face of death, flood and indignities due to lack of sanitation, I was safe, well fed and enjoyed the comfortable amenities of a modern ranch with every convenience.

Family and neighbors kept me informed by phone and email as conditions at home became known. Thanks to them I have been able to arrange to have the tree on top of the house removed and the roof tarped to prevent further damage. Considering the state of affairs in the devastated area of the gulf coast, I am very lucky to have a house I can still call home!

Even the fact that my car was recently stolen can’t dampen my belief that I am a lucky person. Neighbors continue to keep me apprised of conditions and improvements in town and my family has kept me entertained with excursions, presents and visits with friends. Houses can be repaired, cars can be replaced, but I would truly be lost if I didn’t have such a loving family and caring friends.

Yet Another Problem

It’s been a very interesting time since hurricane Rita ran over my Mom’s town in Texas and it’s not over yet….

Things have been a frustrating trying to get some help for Mrs. B, my Mom. It seems that no one will allow you to file, get copies, forward information, pay the bill or do anything at all with any account unless you are the “owner of record” or are “named on the bill”. It’s probably a good thing from an identity theft point of view, but some of the people I’ve tried to work with definitely have a Catch 22 clause in their work agreements. One company I called would not even let me PAY the bill for Mrs. B without a “coupon from the statement” and would not “forward a copy of the bill” unless “she calls in person” even though she’s an evacuee! However, they did assure me “since her bill is current” they would not cut off the utility… I guess they didn’t GET IT that she’s lucky to have gotten out of town and the town was badly damaged and that no one had any “utilities” to speak of! So, in spite of everyone trying to help, she’s had to do much of the calling and filing and arranging of things herself.

I understand from the neighbors that things are getting back on-line in the town and the services and utilities are back on line. The local radio station web site has stopped blogging detailed information about what’s happening, so we have to rely on information from the neighbors who have already returned after the hurricane.

I can’t say enough good things about Mrs. B’s neighbors, K and B and their son P. They have been really extraordinary in helping us out. In spite of having damage to their own home and having to deal with the results of the hurricane themselves, they have been on the forefront of helping Mrs. B get help, including assisting in getting someone to remove the tree from the house and forwarding important phone numbers and passing on much needed information.

Here’s a picture of the old pecan tree that fell on the house during the hurricane.


Now, just to make life a bit more miserable for her, it seems like someone has stolen her car. But I have to say, her spirit is not daunted one bit. She’s so good at filing reports, that she filed the police report like it was no problem! Of course, no one else could file it for her, not the family or the neighbors because it has to be the “owner of record” of course…

Tree Removal

Well, it's time for another interim post while Mrs B is staying in Arizona.

She's doing fine but is worried about the damage to her home caused by Hurricane Rita. She's waiting patiently for the insurance and FEMA inspectors to contact her. But we've made some good progress... The BIG pecan tree that crushed her home is being removed today.

Her good neigbors K and B found a crew of nice folks working in the neighborhood removing trees from damaged homes. They checked them out and decided to have them remove the trees from their home. Then they called Mrs B to see if she wanted the guys to do the same to her house too. Of course, we said "YES, PLEASE"!

We know the "front of the house is caved in a bit" and there's a BIG crack down the wall, and the front door only opens about 2 ft because the front of the building is out of alignment, but we won't know what the roof looks like until the tree has gone. B said the Army Corp of Engineers is going around and putting blue tarps on roofs for folks.... It's call the "Blue Tarp Service" and we hope they will be able to get a tarp up before any rains come.

K said she took some photos of the house with the tree on it and is sending them to Arizona, but we don't have anything yet to look at... just the other houses as posted on the www.KOGT.com site. Unfortunately, it seems that he is ending that blog now as he has a radio station and plans on giving the info over-the-air... it was the only real news we had of what was going on in Orange and vacinity.

Hurricane Rita hit the bull’s eye! Mrs. B is OK!

Well, today is Saturday Oct 1, 2005 and it seems like a long time since the Eye of Hurricane Rita went over Mrs. B’s (my Mom) home town of Orange, Texas on Saturday morning Sept 24, 2005. Orange is right near Beaumont, Texas for those of you who watched CNN coverage of the event.

The damage to Orange is extensive and thanks to a brave soul at KOGT radio station in Orange, who stayed thru the hurricane and reported on the outcome we know some of what took place there. He continues to post his blog updates and photos of the damage around the area.

What we do know from the KOGT blog is that there’s no food, no water, no electricity, no sewage, and no services in the Orange area although, some things have started to come into town like the National Guard, MREs (food packets), and the start of recovery efforts around the town.

You can see the blog and photos at http://www.kogt.com/.

The good news is that Mrs. B is safe and is staying with relatives in Arizona. She flew out of Houston on the previous Tuesday and if she’d waited another day, she’d have been stuck in the airport. But Mrs. B has the luck of the Irish, and made it out of town safe and sound.

P, a neighbor in Orange has told her “there is a tree on her roof and she’ll need a new roof for sure”. She’s been in contact with FEMA and her insurance carrier and they have been very good about helping her get the claim forms started. She’ll be staying in Arizona while we wait for inspections and such. She’ll have lots of experiences to write about when she gets back on-line again.

Trip Plans

My plans for this trip began several weeks ago when Loretta W, a cousin, invited me to visit. She told me she was researching the family tree, and would like me to join her so we could work together. I never need an excuse to travel, but her mention of genealogy activated my research addiction and I readily accepted her invitation.

My trip will start Monday, September 19, 2005 at 6:30 am. A neighbor will drive me to the Greyhound bus station on Interstate 10 to catch the bus for the three hour drive to Houston, Texas. I’ll spend the rest of the day and evening with my son. Tuesday morning he will drive me to Hobby airport for the Southwest 11:30 am flight to Phoenix, Arizona arriving there at 1:30 pm. A shuttle van will take me to Prescott, Arizona where Loretta will meet me 3:30 pm and drive us to her house in Paulden, Arizona.

I’ll be exchanging Texas humidity and night temperatures of 80; and day temperatures of 97 for 40 to 50 degree days and nights. My plan to travel light is easier said than done, but I’m determined to ‘under’ pack rather than ‘over’ pack. I want to eliminate as much baggage as possible so I don’t have to stand and wait in long lines at security check in.

I’ll write of my adventures and the progress Loretta and I make in our research of family history, so do come back and read about my travels. Thanks to all my readers for your interest in my stories.

Relocating Survivors
I’ve been following the TV coverage of moving the hurricane survivors out of the Astrodome, entertainment centers and church facilities here in Southeast Texas. Some have been offered temporary housing with families. Many have accepted rent free apartments for three months while they look for work, but many of the survivors were put on planes and taken to states like Utah, Illinois, Ohio and California and only told their destinations after their flights were in the air. . The “Slings and Arrows of Outrageous Fortune” will undoubtedly be compounded by Culture Shock some of these people will experience.

I sympathize with those who have lost everything and find themselves in bewildering circumstances. Even after reaching safety and receiving basic needs of food and water, they find themselves in limbo. Although agencies like the Red Cross and Salvation Army along with hundreds of volunteers give financial help and comfort, they face confusion and dismay about where and how to rebuild their lives.

My family never experienced such a catastrophe, but there was an incident that lets us relate to some extent the trials and tribulations of those who have lost all their possessions. When Mom and Dad moved from Palo Alto, California to Los Angeles, all their household possessions were sent by moving van to the house they had rented in Los Angeles. Grandma and Grandpa A lived with the folks and everything they owned was on the van too.
I accompanied Mom and Dad and grandparents as we drove to Los Angeles a day before the van was to arrive at the Los Angeles address. After spending the night with relatives, we went to the house early the next morning and waited for the van to arrive at 9 or 10 a.m. When the van had not arrived by late afternoon, we assumed a misunderstanding about the arrival date was to blame. We voiced annoyance at the delay, but knowing the amount of work ahead of us we took the delay in stride and spent another night with relatives.

As the next morning and early afternoon passed without the van’s arrival, the folks made phone calls to find out why. Being told the van was on its way, it became a matter of exhibiting patience while we speculated on the reasons for such a delay. Toward dusk, we saw a large van from the moving company come down the street and being driven as if the driver was looking for a house number. We all heaved a big sigh of relief as Dad went to show the driver which house to go to. Relief was quickly dispelled when we discovered the van was not the one we were waiting for.

The following day we learned that ‘our’ van had caught fire and was totally destroyed midway to Los Angeles. Years of accumulations, photos, clothing, objects of value, furniture, books, tools, mirrors, family records and things of sentimental value belonging to both grandparents and Mom and Dad was lost. It was impossible to enumerate every thing on the van.

Eventually most of the items were replaced. But the loss of photos has been keenly felt thru the years. As I research our family trees, I often recall a snapshot or an old Kodak picture and wish I could add it to our genealogy records. Names and dates were usually written on the back of the photos; what a treasure it would be to have those pictures now!

Email Reply

Hi G
I'm like you I'm bewildered and angry at the seeming lack of organization in getting aid to the survivors of Katrina! The situation is worsening by the hour. I'm perplexed about why the busses going to the Superdome didn't carry crates of water to those people before they picked up a load of passengers for the Astrodome in Houston. At least they would have made the most of the gasoline used for round trips.

I just watched the President on TV. He's taking a tour of the area, but I don't think he really had a clue about the extent of the disaster. Why some of the administration were not more visible is a mystery to me. I'm thinking back to when Churchill went to the bombing sites as the bombs were falling just to show that elected officials were there to support those in such misery. Officials who have been in front of the camera in the last several days have been in suits and ties, the women beautifully coifed and looking like magazine pics. If they were dressed in casual clothing with hair a bit mussed, standing near a pile of ruble left from the hurricane, I'd at least have the impression they are hard at work solving problems. They know how to dress for photo ops in soup kitchens when they want publicity.

When you think of the immediate aid given within a short few hours to other countries- quakes in Turkey, tsunamis in Asia, floods in Bangladesh, not to mention the aid given in Iraq, you'd think we could do the same here. Electrical workers from Texas Ohio, Arkansas were in route to the area before the hurricane hit land, as were telephone workers, Red Cross trucks and Salvation Army.

Why did it take 4 days for the Senate to meet? Every person in the country with a TV could tell how big the catastrophe was even before the levees broke. Men here in this comunity got together with their boats the morning the hurricane landed to so they could join the rescue effort. If civilians can do it why can't the military do it? they have better resources at their disposal.

As you can tell I'm angry and I'll admit to confusion. I hope we haven't deluded ourselves that we are the greatest country on earth and our famous 'know how' is only a myth... I do believe once things get moving the rescue will go fast but in the meantime just wrapping dead people in sheets and leaving them on the side walk while people are dying of insulin shock, thirst and lack of medicines is beyond acceptable!!!

I realize in a few hours or maybe another day, my impressions and questions about the slow progress in rescue will change, but this is the way I'm reacting now. You will probably have different perspective too. If possible I hope you keep a diary of sorts of these days so people years from now can read how we coped with the loss of a city. I don't believe New Orleans will ever be a city again, at least as we have known it. We may salvage a portion, but if we do, it will be years before it can be inhabited again.

Thanks for sending your email, it gives me a chance to spout off and you know misery loves company! In other words, GREAT MINDS THINK ALIKE !!!!!! love ....

Katrina
The devastation that Katrina, the hurricane, has wrought in Louisiana, Mississippi and Alabama is so mind boggling it’s difficult to comprehend. Each passing hour brings additional news of destruction, death, flooding and looting. Since I live on the upper Gulf coast, there was a big sigh of relief knowing we wouldn’t have to contend with a direct hit, but the worry was short lived as the hurricane gathered strength and headed for New Orleans.

I listened intently to both radio and TV for the latest tracking predictions as Katrina changed from a category 2 to a 3, then a 4, and finally to a category 5 hurricane. During the midnight hours of Sunday, August 28th, I listened to an all night call in radio program about how New Orleans would cope when the hurricane hit. It was unthinkable that we could lose an American city, but the possibility was mentioned and I began to wonder if such a thing could happen.

Before daylight, TV crews were filming the onslaught of wind, rain and storm surge. At dawn we began to get an inkling of the devastation, but it seemed that New Orleans had survived the wrath of the hurricane. As daylight allowed greater evaluation of the damage, the horrifying devastation became apparent.

Mississippi and Alabama suffered terrible loss of life and whole communities were obliterated. Television cameras panned across the areas showing piles of rubble where houses and commercial buildings once stood. When reports that levees in New Orleans were breached and water from Lake Pontchartrain had poured into the city filling it with water to roof tops, the unthinkable had happened.

The scope of the catastrophe is so overwhelming I haven’t been able to absorb the impact yet. I’m hypnotized by television photos of people waiting for rescue on roof tops and scenes of autos in hotel lobbies. There are reports of hundreds of bodies floating in the water. Helicopters hover in place as coast guardsmen rappel below to rescue survivors.

The country is barely beginning to realize the extent of the greatest natural disaster we have ever experienced. In the next few days reality will seep into our consciousness that we have lost an American city as we once knew it. A collective effort toward solving long term needs of its inhabitants and plans to save and rebuild as much of the old New Orleans will emerge.



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Harvest Moon

During August, when I go to bed at night, I can see the moon thru my bedroom window until tree tops obscure its ceaseless path from view. As the moon loses its crescent shape and becomes rounder, silver light advances into the room until I’m bathed in moonlight. The soft air of summer nights, the murmuring cadence of night insects, and delicate silhouettes caused by moon glow combine to create a mood of enchantment which lingers long after the moon disappears from sight.

I have lovely childhood memories of summer nights when we lived on the asparagus farm. As the months changed from June to July, then August, the nights grew increasingly hot. After dark fell, the family took blankets and pillows out to the yard to enjoy the cooler night air. We clustered the blankets willy- nilly to each other, and each had their favorite pillow. Most of us planned to sleep outdoors, but sometimes we would wake in the night and go back to our beds inside the house.

After we got tired catching fireflies and saving them in jelly jars, Dad might give us riddles to solve or we listened to stories of how Mom met Dad and what their lives were like when they were kids. Sometimes Adeline or I would pretend moonlight magic made us dance and as we circled and twirled in the moon light, we begged Mom to join us. One of my most precious memories is watching Mom as she laughed and danced with moonlight on her face.

When I was fifteen, a farm neighbor hired me to help in the kitchen at harvest time. Their harvest would take three days, with noon meals being served each day. Groups of local farmers would work together, taking turns harvesting each other’s crops. Not all the farmers would own the machinery needed, but the one or two that did, would use them as they moved from farm to farm. Living in the middle of the Corn Belt, I knew how harvest meals were prepared and served, but I had never helped in the work.

I started work at 8 each morning, but the farmer’s wife and another woman started work earlier. Pies had already been baked with several more ready for the oven. Chicken was frying on top of the stove and bread dough was rising, ready to be made into rolls. The two women did the cooking while I fetched and carried and helped at whatever job I was given. The dining table was covered with a white table cloth and matching napkins. Each man’s place setting included bread and butter plate, cup and saucer, and glasses for water and lemonade or iced tea.

Each day the meals were basically the same, platters of fried chicken and baked ham, sweet corn on the cob, bowls of mashed potatoes and gravy, steamed vegetables from the garden along with sliced tomatoes, radishes, scallions and pickles. For dessert there were three kinds of pie, apple, berry and a cream plus a white and a chocolate cake

The men were divided into two shifts for eating, one at 11:30 and one at 12:30. The farmer, his brothers and their sons waited to eat at the second shift, allowing the volunteer workers to eat first. Outside the kitchen door several benches held buckets of water, wash basins, and piles of clean towels so the men could wash up before eating.

The second shift was a duplicate of the first. The women kept the platters and dishes filled, but the men served themselves and passed the foods around. Pies and cakes were also placed on the table so the men could help themselves. They laughed and joked as they ate, but they didn’t linger at the table.

When the meal was over for the men, we three ate and then started the kitchen work. After all the dishes, pots and pans were washed and put away, I was free to go home, but the women made pies to get a head start on the next day’s work.

Weather

Different regions of Texas have differing climates in winter and summer. My Texas summer weather is still in the 95 -98 range. Weather is the first topic in any local conversation. It’s either hot, or getting hotter and we blame humidity. The heat index, not the number on the thermometer, is the one we pay attention to, along with percentages of rain possibility, which yo- yo up and down the scale. If it’s 20%, 50% or 60%, it means showers will be passing thru and we can, in all probability, expect sunshine before and after rain. If 70% or higher, we are in for monsoons, (good for gardens), or a deluge and floods, (bad for gardens).

Weather in Texas can change drastically within an hour. One has to experience it to believe it. I remember one winter night going to sleep with my warmest blankets, and as the jet stream switched directions, the interior of the house got so warm, I had to kick the blankets aside.

I have never gotten used to the violent weather changes. The ice storms are exquisitely beautiful to look at but not much fun to experience. They cause power outages, downed trees and broken water pipes. I was astounded when I experienced my first Texas ice storm. It was totally unexpected. Rain turned to ice after nightfall and I could hear the crackling and breaking of tree limbs all thru the night. When I awoke next morning, I was awe struck to find everything coated with ice, glistening and sparkling like diamonds. The sun was shining but the temperature had dropped too low to melt the ice.

There were power outages and broken water pipes all over town. Mom and Dad, living in the house next door, had an outage lasting 8 days. Mine lasted only 3 days as electricity at the end of my side of the street was restored sooner than Mom and Dad’s. We both had broken water pipes. My sister, Esther, was visiting Mom and Dad at the time, and between her and our brother, Charles, we managed to connect our two houses with heavy duty power cords so both our houses had lights, television and refrigeration. We all went on ‘wilderness survival mode’ until water pipes were repaired, but we counted our blessings because we still had heat to warm the house and cook with.

Broken tree limbs were everywhere. Trees had crashed due to the weight of ice, and flattened sections of my back yard fence. A huge limb from a pecan tree had fallen on top of my car, covering it with a 6 foot high canopy of frozen branches. The thick, jagged end of the limb was jammed into the frozen ground on the passenger side of the car. I was able to push branches aside far enough to squeeze into the driver’s seat and fortunately, the car started instantly when I turned on the ignition. I slowly backed the car out from underneath the branches and parked further down the driveway. Later, when we checked the roof of the car for dents, there wasn’t even a scratch to be seen.