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  My blog was filled up. I'm too lazy to clean it out. So I started a new one. |
| Today I went with a small group of people to the state capitol to visit two historic mansions with vast gardens on a major river. The weather was perfect for such a trip. We enjoyed the beauty of nature, cultivated gardens, and saw how the fabulously wealthy lived in bygone eras. The first was a large house purchased in England in the early 1900's. It was from the Tudor period. It was dismantled and shipped to America, board by board, pane of glass, etc. The furnishings were gone because the owners had fallen on hard times. It had been in the same family 19 generations, but could no longer be maintained. The government was not willing to take it over. This very wealthy American liked it and wanted to start a community of similar homes in America. It took him three years and almost half a million dollars to reassemble it, adding plumbing, and so forth. Shipping was not included in the costs we were given. Once the house was finished, they added period pieces from the Tudor era, and modern pieces that suited their own needs. Unfortunately, the rich man died one year after they moved in, only in his thirties. His young wife survived another 90 plus years in this house. When she died, In 1969 she turned it into a museum and found lodging more suitable to an elderly woman. The community of similar homes never happened because of the Depression and his death. Large homes sprang up around it of a more modern nature. The library was a personal touch of the owners and still houses thousands of books. It was their living area and very modern. Today that room is intact, but roped off for viewing at a distance only. the rest of the house has been refurnished, museum style. We learned a lot of things from our historian tour guide. The house is very dark. The great room was mostly a work room for the servants, except for special occasions and feasts. Candles were expensive, so the English would tak a rush (reed), dip it in animal fat, clip it in a special stand, then burn it at both ends. It only lasted a minute or so. But that gave us the expression, burning your candle on both ends. We saw am actual trunk from England, upstairs in the old version of a man cave. It served as a safe. It was impossible to open by cutting or shooting. It was booby trapped. If you tried to open it with a stolen key, you'd have to remove rags stuffed in the lock first. When you withdrew your finger, the blades were spring and your finger was cut off. Thus, you were caught "red-handed". An even better one came from the dining hall. There was only one chair at the table. The master of the house sat there, so he was the "chair man". The table was really just a wide board placed on wooden legs, but covered with an elegant cloth. It was much more narrow than today's dining table. So the "chair man" was "chairman of the board. All the others, the chosen guests, adults only, sat on benches or stools around the board. They were "on the board". They were happy to be on the board, because the chairman was a duke or earl or some other important person who might even collect taxes. Outside we enjoyed the architecture, the garden paths, the magnolias, the shrubs, and flowers. Vegetables were mixed with herbs and tulips. We were running out of time, so we skipped the house tour at the second mansion. We walked the gardens only, and did so in a rush. The path was long and downhill to the Japanese Gardens. I didn't make it to the Italian Garden. The many, many steps, and fountains were breath-taking. Red azaleas covered the hill at the bottom. The air was so fragrant. Children were running everywhere. Our minds boggled to think one family was rich enough to build all that for themselves, so vast that no private family or group could maintain it after their passing. At the entrance they were holding a fair with food trucks, crafts, and plant sales. That was on flat land. We didn't take time to look at that I'll never be that rich and don't want that large a group of employees to maintain my yard. But it did make me want to pull some weeds and plant some rosemary. Just give me some mosquito repellent. |
| Have I complained lately about satellite service? Well, I'm going to whine some now. Dish let us go on using the same obsolete equipment for years without offering to replace it, but collected monthly fees anyway. We were accumulating "credits" by paying on time for so long, but they didn't tell us about them, until we quit our service with them. We hooked up with Direct TV for a special deal. Dish wouldn't suspend it when I requested, so we ended up paying for 3 weeks when we weren't even connected. If I wanted to pay Direct for breaking the contract, we could use the built up credits on New Dish service (with a new contract). There were two free or included channels on Dish that we don't get now. I have to call around May 9 to cancel the free trial, and hope that the channel we like the best is not in that bundle. I think it is, because it's one of the STARZ networks, but only reruns old movies. We still haven't gotten the $200 gift card we were promised. It came with no instructions, so I haven't figured out how to record, or how to remove the unavailable channels from my list when I'm surfing. And I can't connect to my Internet, which is also new and more expensive than promised. I was told I had WI Fii, but I'm not savy of these things and can't watch TV anywhere as promised. I feel like they're all liars, refusing full disclosure. I asked for something in writing from DISH. All they sent was an advertisement by email. How can I compare plans and prices. They will not divulge any info that allows you to make an educated choice. We only changed because we wanted to reduce our monthly bill. That went up because of the overlapping services, but should even out next month. My Internet improved, but instead of going up $10, it went up about $40 because it's tied in with the phone, which was not explained to me. Where are the honest business people? Or is that an oxymoron? Reaching them with anything other than a technical difficulty is pretty difficult, too. You always are told you have the wrong department. And the numbers are in another state. No one local has any idea what is going on. Make things simple for the consumer. Spell out what you offer, what it costs, what are the terms, how you can be reached, how to terminate your relationship, etc. And I have to get rid of the obsolete equipment. I can't sell it. I am not supposed to send it to the dump. But I am not going to drive to another town to recycle it. It seems like that should be Dish's problem. |
| Death Valley Days was a TV show in the 50's. I've heard of it, but have never seen it, as best as I can recall, even in reruns, until recently. I have actually enjoyed it. It's in black and white, only half an hour. It's introduced and ended by "the old ranger", who gives a little background and draws a moralistic conclusion. There are no regular characters on the show, but a lot of famous TV stars or movie stars make appearances in the short tales. They are, of course, about California. Each show begins and ends simply, without fanfare or big music. The twenty mule teams hauling borax out of Death Valley are shown. This is a phenomenon worth explaining. Borax was one of many rich resources blessing California. Hauling it out, required a lot of power. Horses wore out too fast and needed to be rested frequently and watered. Mules can withstand the physical strain for longer periods of time without stopping or thirsting. The weight of a wagon of borax required 20 mules to share the burden. By the 20th century, Borateem, a brand name cleaning product, used the logo of the 20 mule team. One episode featured San Francisco and its development. It kept a chronological record of the gold rush, 1849, the crime wave and fires for easy looting, starting in 49 and going on once or twice a year until vigilante law corrected the situation. Already in 1849 the government was corrupt, and gangs prevailed. This is consistent with what I have read. By 1870, there was Nob Hill with its successful businessmen, former prostitutes and gamblers who had come up in the world, as well as retired miners and lawyers and importers, along with the proper and educated people from the East. (From what I've read, Chinatown and the Barbary Coast were in full swing, but that wasn't covered in this show.) I enjoy watching the progression and knowing what was going on at the same time in some other part of the country or world. It gives me the big picture. On another episode, a cute but supposedly true, story about some kids was used to illustrate the story of the Pelton water wheel. Mr. Pelton had failed at many jobs, including mining, but he had become a millwright and liked to tinker and invent things. He wanted to make operating a foot pedal sewing machine easier for his land lady and used his water wheel to speed things up for her. From there, he kept working on the idea and revolutionized mills and mines with his huge machines and waterwheels. His first patent was in 1850. This is probably my favorite kind of western. You actually can learn things and put westerns in perspective with the history of the world. |
| I was pleasantly surprised the other night. It was bedtime. My father had started watching a movie, which I knew I couldn't stay up to see. But he called my attention to it because of the name. I watched for a moment, and it looked stupid. But very quickly, I was hooked. Dad was not. He got up and went to bed. I stayed to watch the entire movie. It was great. I like The Wonder Years and The Goldbergs, both TV shows told from the viewpoint of an adult who remembers well the events of his childhood and his feelings. This was the same kind of thing, but told by an Indian boy living in America. (Notice these funny, nostalgic coming of age stories are all told by males.) His whole family wants to live the American dream, but the two children desperately want to fit in now. The girl is a bit older and blends in more easily; being pretty helps. The parents have not given up their old ways, their aspirations for their children, or their religious practices. Unfortunately for Smith, Halloween, that sacred day so anticipated by children, falls on a high holy day for Hindus. This vividly paints the conflict for us. The father is the strict enforcer of their old country ways, the boy wants to embrace what all his chums are doing, and the mother works very hard to appease them both but falls short. By following Smith through his school days, we see the bullying and harassment he faces for being different. We see his family being successful in some ways and disappointed in others as they try to be American and Indian at the same time. A great deal of humor is added in by their neighbors, who do not go to church, are willing to accept them as they are, and have a daughter who becomes best friends with Smith. This neighbor is played by Jason Lee, the actor who played Earl in My Name Is Earl. He wears flannel shirts, drives a pick up and goes hunting. He takes Smith deer hunting one day and fails to follow his own good advice; he gets wounded and can't work for a long time. He is like a cowboy to Smith, and he is his Tonto. Most of the story takes place when Smith is ten. It is framed by his remarks as a grown man, who according to his father's plan, has become a neurosurgeon and married a girl arranged for him when he was a child in India, and lives there like a raja (his father's dream). He has returned to America at the end and reunites with his parents and sister, who married her American high school sweetheart. Once again he receives advice from his friend across the street and begins the next chapter of his life. It was wonderfully touching and insightful. I loved it and highly recommend it. |
| When I was young, we didn't wear little sailor type outfits any more. But we did wear a lot of pastels, gathers, and lace with puffy sleeves and bows that tied in the back. We wore buster brown shoes, Keds - if your Mom would spend that much-, and black patent leather Mary Janes with white socks. If you were lucky, you got white Mary Janes to be worn between Easter and Labor Day only. You wore skirts to school and sweaters to keep warm. By the time I was in 9th grade, we were wearing Garland brand or similar color co-ordinated skirts and sweaters, knee socks, and shells or short sleeve blouses. I remember thinking $7 for a blouse was for rich girls only. I was envious of those who wore them. These were worn with penny or tassel loafers. Nylons were okay for school, but always for church, after age 12. By the time my nieces came along, little girls still wore fancy dresses, but black was acceptable. I recall being shocked thinking a perverse, deathly color could have bows and puffy sleeves and put on preschoolers. Garland was out; so was Papagallo. Madras became passe. Grown women wore colored glass and sequins on sweaters and sweatshirts, so little girls did, too. Pretty soon little girls wore sleeveless dresses in winter and spaghetti straps in summer. Teens wore hot pants to church with spaghetti strap tops. As a young adult I taught in a preschool and was amazed at children making their own clothes choices. They picked their own outfits at age two and three and had very strong opinions about it. My brothers and I wore what Mom told us to wear until we were at least 11. She probably had a lot of influence after that. For years now, girls have been wearing tutus, glitter, sequins, and anything that sparkles. Their clothes reflect adult styles with cutouts, breathing shoulders, lacing, and so forth. They don't have anything left for special occasions because they make every day special. I just spent a couple of hours vacuuming chairs, upholstery, carpets, stairs, and bedding getting up glitter from a child's dress who came to visit yesterday. (Did you gather that she gets into everything?) Their shoes and socks cost as much as an adult's. Of course, it's all driven by business. You can't have hand-me-downs too many years. You have to go out and buy something stylish. A five year old will be too self-conscious in something that's not currently in style. Heaven forbid that the child should wear a quaint print or not own a few items that say Nike or Adidas. That might affect his ability to grow or to learn or socialize. It's a different world, even for children. |
| I was glad when disco was out. It seemed like such a superficial craze. The clothing, the lights,the mirror balls, the attitude just felt silly. For people who were raised in jeans and t-shirts and free for all dancing and twisting, formal dance steps and being paired off was too much to ask. It was flashy and artificial. Now that we have had decades to get over it, it seems kind of campy to revisit it. For baby boomers who need more exercise, it feels like fun. While it was embarrassing for those of us not caught up in it then, it would be cool now to learn what we missed or relearn what we forgot. We wouldn't have to do the double knits or the baggy pants, but show up however we want to dress. Get the blood flowing just like at beach music parties or sock hops or Beatle imitators. And no strobe lights! But play that funky music and move those feet! I'd sign up for a class. Get that aerobic activity the doctor is demanding. Bring back disco dancing. |
| https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M1F0lBnsnkE Check out this piece of entertainment. |
| I am still struggling with priorities and goal setting. I recently saw a brief podcast that claimed goal setting puts you in the failure state. You set your weekly goals or your new year's resolutions, and you are automatically in the failure state. You stay there until you can check off your goal as completed. Then you fall into a common experience of having reached a goal and feeling let down. ("I caught the wild mustang, now what?" or "I made my first million; why don't I feel better?) So you set another goal, maybe a harder goal, and you are once again in the failure state. He was addressing business people mostly, but used writing as an example. Instead of saying my goal is to write a book or a poem or series of essays, tell yourself you are going to write X number of minutes or hours every day. He said to avoid counting words or chapters, just say a time amount. Then it doesn't matter how well you write or what you write, you just get in the habit of writing. It becomes a priority above everything else. You can feel successful day by day and not just at some distant point in time. I thought I can do that. I can devote an hour to this, one to that, and so forth, and I realized I won't have time for sleeping, personal care, unexpected events, etc. How do people manage whose priority is to care for children, elderly parents, or sick family members? Your own health and exercise is another priority. Your business or work is another. Then there are hobbies and passions and friends and church or clubs. But I read elsewhere just this morning that if you have more than three daily priorities, then you don't have any priority. What priorities to give up or delay? I found a crochet pattern book that promises you can make a full afghan in a week. I'm experienced and have worked steadily every day for 12 days on a very simple pattern and am not finished. Some days I spend hours on it nonstop, so I don't know how someone does one in a week. I enjoy the work, and it gives me an excuse for having the TV on. I can listen while I'm crocheting and when your fingers have a feel for it, you can look away frequently and keep going. I do set weekly goals, because I've always liked check lists. But at week's end, I do feel like I've fallen short. That part is true. I didn't make my deadline to get all those things done. When I'm easy on myself and keep the list simple, then I feel like I haven't really tried. It was too easy. I need to stretch a little. I don't want to feel like I'm coasting from day to day with bare minimum effort. I certainly don't want to lag behind. Maybe it's an appropriate struggle for various age milestones we have. Where am I going with my life? Am I making any progress? Am I truly happy or am I settling? Am I using my potential? Am I making a difference to others? Am I being the best me? Am I running out of time? Somehow we have to discern how to avoid the failure state and still shoot for the stars. |
| We used to hear of two minute or three minute eggs, but hardly ever hear them mentioned now. The difference between them is more than one minute. Apparently, it was a European tradition, along with egg cups, which few people use now. The end of the boiled egg was removed only and sat upright in the cup. You spooned the egg right out of the shell or dipped your toast corners into the runny yolk. I don't know anyone who does that. Just for the record, a two minute egg, starting out in cold water, boils for two minutes, but sits in the hot water away from the heat for about 15 minutes before being served. A three minute egg boils for three minutes, but sits in the hot water for 17 minutes. However, most people I know do not follow these rules. They usually end up with overcooked eggs. There are some tips to getting a good boiled egg, done to the firmness you prefer. (I don't know if restaurants even offer boiled eggs any more.) You always put the eggs in the unheated water to start. The water should completely cover the eggs. Adding a drop or two of white vinegar will prevent or lessen egg white from escaping through cracks. Some people also like to throw in a pinch of salt to make the shells easier to peel. I don't do either of these. The freshest eggs are the hardest to peel, so you may want salt for those. If you start peeling your eggs and notice they are difficult to peel, crack each one as neatly as possible and allow to soak in cold water. The water will seep in under the shell and make it a little easier. Once the water starts to boil, turn the heat off after two to three minutes. If you have a gas stove where the heat instantly stops, you may need to leave it on just a tad longer. Depending on how soft you want your yolks, leave them in the hot water ten to 20 minutes. My dad boils them about 20 minutes, rinses in cold water and peels. The result: the yolks have a green hue around the outside, a sign of overcooking. They're not even preferable for good egg salad or deviled eggs. And they lose a lot of white when peeling. Home grown eggs preserve a little longer. They aren't washed, so the coating on the outside preserve them a little longer. They don't even need to be refrigerated when they are first collected. The shells are thicker and harder to crack. They do last longer. All eggs peel easier when they are a week or two older. I met a man once who wouldn't feed his cat eggs a week old. But the truth is they last well if kept away from the sun and the heat.. The freshness date on store bought eggs and other products is a sale date, not a throw away date. Experimentation is the best way to discover how to get the perfect egg for you, since everyone likes them differently. |
| It's pollen season, so there's more sneezing all around. We hear "Bless you" and "Gesundheit" all over the place. Ever wonder why we feel the need to bless someone who makes a simple sneeze? When I was a child, my mother always said. "Scat". We asked why, and she just replied that was the thing to do. It wasn't until much later that we heard "Gesundheit" and later still the "Bless you". Then in French class, we translated the word Scat. The teacher explained that the French of older times believed a sneeze was the sound of evil spirits leaving the body. The order to scatter would prevent them from re-entering the body. Apparently, the habit came to America without the explanation. The German blessing indicates a little concern for wellness. The American blessing is a softer version. One episode of Seinfeld had George making a big deal about someone not saying "Bless you" when his girl friend sneezed, but then the show did claim to be a show about nothing. The truth is we are not required to acknowledge someone's sneeze. There is nothing wrong with ignoring it, particularly if they are sneezing a lot. We don't say anything about coughing or dabbing at a runny nose. Making a kind remark, like a blessing, is idle chatter which may make the person less embarrassed. It may even be a polite gesture to a stranger in the market. Whether you say anything or not, it's not a matter of etiquette. The sneezer will usually say "Excuse me", which is more of a matter of manners, particularly for loud or disruptive sneezes. Covering the sneeze is not only good manners but a requirement in some environments to avoid spreading germs. Sneezing (or coughing) into your shoulder or inside your jacket or shirt is preferable to sneezing into your hands. Pulling up the neck of your t-shirt to cover your nose is not rude or gauche in this germophobe age. So, Gesundheit, and Bless You. And scat to your evil spirits. |
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