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  My blog was filled up. I'm too lazy to clean it out. So I started a new one. |
| A remark by another writer about George Washington Carver brought some things to mind. The set up didn't allow me to respond directly to her. It would be lost with about 30 comments or more in between and would seem disjointed. I didn't want it to appear like some disagreement. There is a national park in Diamond, MO, which I have not seen, named for Carver. He is a native of that state. (I haven't seen a lot of national parks, but I would like to visit.) I remember studying about him in grade school. It was a white school, since desegregation hadn't occurred yet. We learned that he was a scientist who had invented over 300 uses for the peanuts besides snacking on them as grown. He was presented to us as one of the great scientists of that century, since he not only gave us peanut butter and peanut oil, but revolutionized farming by reducing soil erosion. He had taught Southerners to rotate crops. He also was a well-known educator. He was not presented to us as a black scientist, since "black" wouldn't become a popular term for a few more years. He was just a scientist and professor. We also studied Booker T. Washington as a great reformer and educator who helped rebuild the South after the Civil War. I remember reading his book Up From Slavery, as I did a reading list to prepare for college. I found it thrilling. It seemed like a basic self-help book and good advice for every person, regardless of skin color or background. It was just so full of common sense and self-dignity. I know it wasn't intended to be an advice book, but was the story of his life. But his life was about lifting up other people, helping them to see things clearly and prioritize. He was such a spiritual person, intent on helping others find their dignity and pride, that you can't help but feel some of that reading his story. And the speeches that he quoted were more exciting. It's like he was more animated when he knew he'd be addressing a live audience than when a person would be quietly reading. I'm sure it must have been exciting to hear him speak. I don't know where there are any statues or parks in his honor. There should be. His legacy is taught, at lest in text books. If students are doing their homework, they will know about both men. Maybe too much time has passed since I was a kid, and schools don't get around to it any more. I'm in the South. We also learned about Maggie Walker, a woman overlooked outside our state. She was well-known and had a rival high school named after her before my time. (We played football against them.) She was one of the first female bankers in America. A good one. A successful one. And she was black. Women, even black women, who wanted to excel did so. Of course, you need the right education and supporters (parents, teachers). All of these, men and women, serve as an inspiration to all of us, regardless of race, finances, or gender, If we set out to do what is right and help others along the way, we can be achievers. |
| I don't do a lot of personal shopping. I bought some boots during Christmas, the first ones I've even owned in over 10 years. I bought some shoes last fall. You have to have covering for your feet. Shoes wear out, you don't have arch support, the soles go bad, and so forth. But other clothes are recyclable, fads come and go. You can change them up for different outfits when you realize nobody you currently see has seen those things on you. After all, I am not chic and don't run in trendy crowds. My acquaintances, like me, don't mind holding a classic sweater for twenty years; you don't wear it every day. But I've gotten rid of a lot of things lately, either trash or donations. I plan to give away more, colors that just never looked good on me I went through a baggy phase; I couldn't wear anything unless it was flowy or excessive or a size too big. I'm too old for that now; they look sloppy. So I feel justified in buying a few new things. And my income and expenses are more stable than in ages. So today I went shopping and actually bought some things. I didn't just look around and say ugh. It was fun. Trying to make things go together, or picturing them with things I already have was exciting. I talked to myself in the dressing room, and realized why so many people take somebody shopping with them. They don't want the other person's opinion; they just want a sounding board. As I was looking at blouses in one particular department store, I realized the last time I bought clothes was last Easter. It's been a year! No wonder it was such a thrill. Like a kid in a candy store, I reveled in all the pretty things. The bonus was getting everything on sale, and I stayed within budget. I don't have to hem anything. It felt so nice to buy things for myself. Am I selfish, or what! I highly recommend this activity. |
| Well, the Easter Bunny has already made deliveries to my house. Six kids will be getting candy-free baskets on Sunday. I'm sure they'll get lots of candy elsewhere. I'm making cupcakes with a Peep on top for desert, so they'll get some sugar after running around the yard. One of my great nieces has two younger brothers. On one hand, I sympathize with her. I had two younger brothers who ganged up against me when they were a little older than hers are now. But then I was a quiet child with a nurturing nature even in preschool. I watched her sitting on her two year old brother who was face down in the grass, while she tried to tie a scarf around his neck. My brother (Pop Pop) got the scarf away. I went back inside while she was still holding him down. I told my niece I just had a glimpse of baby Jack's future. That child is in for it, because I'm sure his brother will be a lot like the sister. So I can't empathize with the bully in her. We had toys that survived our childhood and the next generation, who destroyed a lot of Barbie dolls in their own home. But this newer generation is very destructive, not just with their own toys, but with other people's things. I have to be on constant vigilance with the computer, the closets, glass items, my mother's collectibles. They can't understand not everything is a toy. There's one more niece with her brood, and my other brother with his young son (he started later). All of the children are very bright, but they don't have the emotional maturity to advance in school yet. They're well-behaved at school, but definitely not with each other. When they're all my house, they're hard to control. When they come one family at a time, I can give them jobs to do or crafts or get them to help me cook something. They like that. They've all learned to be affectionate and polite when they want something. I obviously want them to visit or I wouldn't plan activities or have little surprises for them. I'm always glad to see them come, but I always feel relieved when they go home. |
| The chives are full grown and amazingly green above a layer of snow. I harvested some last night and served them with dinner. I bought lime today for my plans to eliminate the moss that grows in the pots on the back porch. I'm waiting for one more snow storm to pass before planning other things. I did buy two blackberry bushes. Dad doesn't plan to do a garden at all this year, so I will taking over his garden plot. I want to build a simple trellis at one end for the blackberries. It's down to a third of the size it used to be. I have to decide if I will do any vegetables or just flowers. I don't want to spend a lot of time with the mosquitoes. Time seems to be the biggest problem. Not that I don't have any to spare. It's just how do I want to spend my time? I love crafting and sewing, but haven't done any in a while. My dad wants to get rid of everything my mom left in that area. He doesn't sew or craft, and can't understand why any of it should remain. I can't make him understand without hurting his feelings that this is my connection to my mother. Her incomplete projects are her legacy to me. It's something we shared. She stopped when her eyesight started to fail. I was living in another town, doing my own things. My dad never made room for me to move in with my life time collection of things, or what I had left after an unfriendly divorce. I squeezed in, and have sort of spread out over time. I don't have space for sewing. But we have tools in every room of the house except my bedroom. I am spending time going through things. I am getting rid of clothes that are out of style or haven't been worn in years, even if they fit. I'm parting with shoes and purses and knickknacks. I've discarded some odds and ends when Dad isn't looking--you know the things you save just in case. I'm coming to terms with rearranging things in the house without offending the house owner (He doesn't want me to leave; he needs me, but like most men of his generation, it's his house.). Time is the key. I want some time for gardening without it consuming me. I want to cook healthier, new dishes, but don't want all my time in the kitchen. I want to write, which is time-consuming. I want to watch movies and old TV shows because they've become a hobby; I take notes and make my own observations, like I'm a film critic or student. I want to vacation a little after decades of hardly taking even a weekend. I am just getting into exercise; I've never liked sweating. But I'm finding I really like re-building my lost muscle and improving my stamina. I like reading for hours at a time. I'm spending a little time with some older friends doing brunches, or lectures at the library, or short trips. But housekeeping is time-consuming and has to be done. And my dad is aging and becoming needier. It takes more time taking care of him. I can't let him hear me complain because he's keeping a pretty nice roof over my head. I guess my rent is the time I spend tending to him and the house which is considerable. I think I take pretty good care of him, so so for the house. There's always something unforeseen hitting the finances, the time issue, and throwing plans askew. Taking care of him is my first priority. So prioritizing what's left of my time is my dilemma. I have to take care of me, too, so that I'll be around to tend to him. In many ways, he's stronger than I am. I worry that I might go first, and no one else will look out for him like I do. But it is the first day of spring today. The year is still young. New life is budding. Whether I figure it out or no, life goes on. So I'll be hopeful. |
| I've always wanted to travel, but couldn't afford it. When I was married, I didn't want to travel with my husband, but that's another story. Now I have a little saved up, and I'm not looking at living for many more decades (I'm being a positive thinker to think THAT big). But I still can't travel because I'm taking care of my dad who can't travel. Maybe that's why I want to go so badly. Like a teenager, you want to do what you can't. And these days I'm a little more afraid of international traveling, although I still want to go to Ireland. And Spain. And all around the Mediterranean. Yes, I saw The Bucket List. It did make me think of my own list, but skydiving and mountain climbing weren't on it. Recently, I saw a Tyler Perry movie in which Kathy Bates and Alfre Woodward take off in a convertible and just follow the road, like an older version of Thelma and Louise, but not running from the law. Oh, did that drive the wanderlust home. I started thinking of all the places I'd like to go, just driving across America. Bates and Woodward joked about hitting every Cracker Barrel in the country. I have discovered on a few travels that local establishments can be better than the big chains, or not. How cool would that be, to just ride west or north, or south, or in between, and stop at any place or festival that took my eye, no plan from day to day. I like visiting historical homes, art museums, caves, and factories. The Bush Beans factory was fascinating in Tennessee. I learned a lot, found it entertaining, and enjoyed myself. And it was in the middle of no where. I thought I was lost before I found this tourist spot in the middle of a big farming and production complex. The Grand Old Opry was fun. I'd like to stay in their fancy (not cheap) hotel and ride on their riverboat. I have never been west of Kansas City, so I am willing to keep on driving. Maybe Branson would be nice. I get e-mails from South Dakota tourism groups, so they've fed my curiosity. You could spend a month exploring Texas. They have beaches, mountains, deserts, big cities, The Alamo, and so much history. Louisiana has old homes, artwork, Creole food and accents, elegant gardens, swamps and music. I wouldn't want to spend my time in rock concerts, or heme parks. They're artificial, and I'm not into thrill rides. But I would go to plays and outdoor concerts, and local productions. I'm willing to go alone. I've traveled across several states alone before. If only the logistics could work out. I'd like to travel before I have something go wrong and can't. It's a beautiful country, and it's waiting for me! |
| Happy St. Patrick's Day to one and all! Whether you celebrate in a somber, holy way in Ireland or a much more irreverent way elsewhere, have a happy one. To those not of Irish descent or enlightenment, here are a few helpful tidbits. Leprechauns only wear green in America. In Ireland, they wear red in most places, and their hats vary, from a derby to a pointy tall hat, as well as the pilgrim shaped hat we see in the States. Leprechauns are accused of many things, including spilling the milk, knocking over things, and sending sparks from the fireplace onto the rug. Some people try to appease the leprechauns by leaving out a wee snack, like cookies for Santa. A few have tried leaving some scraps, but that infuriates them, feeling like the family is treating them like the pet dog! And they don't like school teachers, because teachers tell the children, it's all just superstition. That's why it's harder than ever to find leprechauns. They have moved into the mountains to get away from schools. Wild banshees are female spirits that attach themselves to a family or clan and warn of an impending death. A bad banshee is happy about it and sounds like a scary laugh. Good banshees sound more mournful and sad. To hear one, it helps to be under the influence of liquid spirits. Ireland is an island, so there are lots of fishermen providing fish and large prawn (shrimp) and other seafood. They are known for their lamb and corned beef. We buy Irish wool and fisherman sweaters, all expensive. Dairies are a big industry now, and here in America, we can buy premium Irish cheese, butter, and other dairy products. Cabbage is big in America for St. Patrick's Day and sales go sky high for corned beef, cabbage and potatoes this weekend. Ireland is not known for desserts, but the finer homes and hotels offer some good things. Many Irish people came in the 1600's and 1700's, those early waves settling in the Appalachians (after Cromwell). In the 19th century, Ireland experienced a potato famine. People left Ireland by the thousands rather than lose their savings or starve their families. They were coming to America in the early 1800's, remembering their traditions. They settled in New York City, Philadelphia, and Boston in large communities. The first St. Patrick's Day parade was in 1762 in New York. Many turned out wearing green hats or arm bands, and the non-Irish began to associate green with the Irish and St. Patrick's Day in particular. A poem by William Brennan referred to Ireland as the "emerald isle" which reinforced the color association. Now growing up, I was always told to wear green today or the leprechauns would pinch you. I thought is was just an excuse for the kids to pinch the ones who forgot to wear something green. (I never believed the ones who said they wore green underwear.) Recently, I heard that if you wear green the leprechauns can't see you. That's new to me, and I have read a lot about Ireland and Irish folk lore. I'd have to see some background on the vision block before accepting it. I never thought much about the Irish diaspora before. The word had been associated with the Jews in my limited education. The Jews had spread all over the world, but still felt rooted to the homeland. Believing themselves to be God's chosen people, they still felt the unity no matter where they lived in the world. The attempt at extermination by the Nazi's helped reinforce this feeling of unity, of being a dispersed nation. Somehow Ireland has had a similar experience as seen in the international celebration of St. Patrick's Day. Millions of Irish left Ireland over a 50 year period, going to the U.S., but also Canada, Australia, and New Zealand. They carried with them their music and traditions. Staying together in communities allowed them to maintain thir identity and celebrations. St. Patrick's Day became less religious and more celebratory as they invited their non-Irish friends and co-workers to participate. In these other locations, the church was not as instrumental in their daily lives. So the wearing of the green or Irish symbols became more popular, especially in the U.S. where consumerism affected all groups. Merchants probably had more influence than the Irish themselves in building St. Patrick's into such a big holiday. Ireland is known for drinking and brags a little about it in their poetry, their stories, and jokes. But it was America's influence that pushed the drinking. Green beer is an American invention. Only in the last decade plus have you been able to find it in Ireland. The green river in Chicago has been around since the 1960's. Guinness will make a big surge in sales this weekend. Most people celebrating today don't know much about St. Patrick or Ireland. But for this one day of the year, everyone is Irish! Erin Go Braugh. (Gaelic for Ireland forever) |
| If stopped on the street, by Jay Leno or some other celebrity known for these street quizzes, and asked what famous women you know from history, what would you answer? The only ones shown on TV, of course, would be the ignorant or silly answers, especially if they said they were teachers. People who could really answer would not be TV worthy. But there are so many who do have dumb answers or no answers! For this particular question, a few names come to my mind. They might not be the most important to a historian, but they seem worthy in my limited knowledge. Maggie Walker was an outstanding banker and a legend when I was a child. Lottie Moon was a missionary to China when women were not respected there, but who managed to hold her own with the men in charge. She also changed the way that missions were supported, empowering women at home in the U.S. to have some control and input. We all know the names Nellie Bly, reporter, Clara Barton, nurse, and Florence Nightingale, a British nurse. We know the name Rosa Parks, but few people realize that she was a Christian who found her courage because of her religious faith. As kids, we learned about Dolly Madison, who helped save some things when the White House was set on fire, Sacajawea, guide to the explorers, Pocahontas, Indian princess, Betsy Ross, credited with sewing the flag, Jane Adams, advisor to her political husband. We studied about Marie Curie, scientist. There are many names in European monarchy, and world leaders like Indira Gandhi, Golda Meir, Eva Perone, and Margaret Thatcher. Some people would point to fashion innovators, or celebrities whose names will linger after their moment in the spotlight is over. There are media moguls like Oprah Winfrey and Helen Gurly Brown who had an impact beyond their own immediate fans. I can think of so many historical women, but I have to mull over their worthiness to be listed. Were they just famous, like Big Nose Kate-girlfriend of Doc Holiday? Or did they have some impact on society, like changing education or the culture. So who do you think of? Without pausing or researching, what women stand out in your mind? |
| I was convinced that I had viewed all of the Sergio Leone trilogy, having seen The Good, The Bad and the Ugly more times than I cared to admit, mostly before I liked westerns. I only watched John Wayne and Clint Eastwood to accommodate brothers or husband or friends, except for The Quiet Man. I never really paid attention to the story or the actors. Now I like them on my own. However, last night, I reluctantly watched A Few Dollars More. I had a headache and didn't feel like reading. I had nothing else to do. To my surprise, I have not seen this one before. Nothing rang a bell at any point for me. It has the usual loud exotic music of spaghetti westerns. It paints a very bad picture of American western history, starting off with the written words that go something like: Where life has no value, death sometimes has a price. So the bounty killer rose out of this. The point was made that the American west did not value life. Too broad and too general a commentary for my tastes. It had the usual foreigners playing the supporting roles and opposition, with strong accents in gruff voices. Eastwood and Van Cleef were partners rather than enemies in this one. The Man With No Name actually had one name-Monco. Only Van Cleef looked like he ever washed his face in the film. Like many Italian made westerns, the bandits hold up in a church or abandoned mission, so there are religious relics everywhere to preside over acts of violence. So what kept me following such a violent, dark movie? None of the men appeared to be handsome or cute, so that wasn't it. The story takes some cunning and unexpected twists. The good guys and the bad guys are very clever and keep outwitting each other. And one redeeming moment occurs when we realize Van Cleef's character wants to avenge a crime against his family more than he wants the bounty. It's a brief, but understandable moment. And that moment is not overplayed. You would think that the good guys win, but, alas, only our acting heroes win. They are, after all, bounty hunters. Van Cleef rides off into the sunset, content with his revenge. Eastwood counts bounty in dollars and piles dead bodies, about 15, onto the wagon and rides off the opposite way. A lost life is only money to him. |
| It's very cold here. We had threats of snow last night, but got none. The tree limbs are still piled by my driveway, because there is no reliable tree service in this town. Lots of men do this kind of work, but none keep their word, and many aren't trustworthy. I hate needing work done, but I can't do it myself. And I love having trees. But I digress. The chives are back up, green and tall. The sage never left, but isn't really fragrant yet. My surprise is that the tarragon is coming back up on its own. I will have to replant the basil. I have purchased parsley seed, and plan to plant some as soon as the weather is a bit more promising. I know it doesn't last, and will have to harvest as soon as it is ready. I can make tabbouleh salad and use a lot of it. We have a small garden patch, but my dad is no longer able to garden. If I can get someone to handle the tiller, I suppose I will have to plant zucchini and watermelon this year. I'm not too sure I can keep tomatoes alive. And I'm not into a lot of things that Dad grew. But I do want some zinnias and lavender, and maybe marigolds. I have the time now that I'm retired. I'm stocked up on mosquito repellent, which I have to have any time my fair skin is outdoors in warm weather. I've seen jonquils in other people's yards, but haven't found them or the crocus in my yard. I think the strawberries, except for one pot, are dead. I've been watching the trees for buds, but haven't seen any yet. I don't want to rush in pollen season. We didn't have much winter weather. However, I get excited seeing things grow. So I'm anxious to get some new life sprouting up. If I can get someone with a chipper to come here, like the last guy promised, I will have mulch to go around the hedge. I'm going to go into full-time weed pulling soon, I guess. |
| On one of my free premium channels, Heaven's Gate ran the other night. It was a 1980 film. I sometimes wonder why the premium channels run old movies that can be run on any channel, but then I realized this one doesn't usually play on other channels. There is a good deal of violence and nudity in it. And then I began to recall the name of it and that it was considered a flop at the time, an expensive flop, but I couldn't remember more. It starred Kris Kristofferson and Christopher Walken. Almost immediately, I had bad feelings about it. The graduation scenes of a very young Kristofferson and John Hurt were way too long. The singing, the yelling, the dancing went on beyond boring. Instead of thinking about the beginnings of the story, I was musing over how much of it should have fallen to the editing floor. Maybe the director thought it was artistic. If it was art, it eluded me. I wanted it to move on and have substance. Finally, it jumped twenty years to the year 1890. Kristofferson looked more like his true age of the time. He was about 50 when the movie was made. The character would have been 45 tops, so you can imagine how ridiculous he looked in the college scene. Although they referred to him coming from St. Louis, and much of the story takes place in Casper, Wyoming, he is employed by Johnson County in Wyo., and resides in a barely existing community. His true love is a foreign born madam. He is a lawyer who still has good personal wealth. He keeps a photo of himself and his college girlfriend in his meager room. This section of the story begins with him bringing an elegant Studebaker carriage and a fine black horse to his girlfriend as a gift. She later points out to him that he gives her things, but not his heart. I have studied Wyoming history a little. I know about the Johnson County range wars. This particular story is fictional with little in common with the history other than a range war took place. This story involves a very large European immigrant population. It pits the stock owners association against not only "sodbusters" and other farmers, but also merchants and craftsmen. The dialog is more about the government versus poor people, which is not the basis of the range wars. (Sodbusters lived in houses made of sod, whether they grew plants or raised animals.) Before the big battle takes place, they have a big roller skating party at a rink that is called Heaven's Gate. Granted the music is good, and they did some cool skating stunts. But like the college dance rituals, it was way too long and boring. There is one other big scene at Heaven's Gate, and that is where Kristofferson tells them he has obtained a copy of the hit list and reads the 125 names on the list, which includes all the leading citizens of their community. They conclude that they are going to fight rather than flee. So the battle begins shortly thereafter. There is a bloody aftermath. Every time I thought the movie was ending, it went on to yet another segment. With Walken dead, and the madam dead, they jump ahead another 13 years or so to a yacht off Nova Scotia. Kristofferson is drawn and gaunt. Below deck there is a fragile, weak woman who asks for a cigarette. She can't even light it herself. Presumably, this is the old college girlfriend. He goes back up top, obviously still rich, retired from the legal profession, and removed from the western struggles. It seemed like a superfluous ending. So I had to look it up, to test my memory. It was a flop financially. It went way over budget, and eventually led to the demise of the studio. The director won a reputation for being difficult and his career died, even though he had enjoyed some earlier successes and awards. What I learned is that historically, movies had been in the control of the studios. For about a 12 year period, including most of the 60's and early 70's, films had become director driven. This movie helped shift that control back to the studio, so that budgets and artistic temperaments didn't destroy them again. If you have the time for a really long movie, and don't expect any historical truth, you might enjoy this one. There is a love triangle with Walken that actually holds it together. If they had made that the major thrust of the film, they may have fared a little better. The movie is getting more approval now that time has passed, and the expense forgiven. |
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