Tuesday, December 20, 2016

A List of Lovely Words in No Particular Order

Luminous


I was recently thinking of that beautiful word of Edgar Allan Poe's--"tintinnabulation."  I tried saying it aloud to myself as if I were the English actor, Simon Callow.  (He who was The Reverend Mr. Beebe in A Room With a View.  And the one funeral in Four Weddings and a Funeral.) I pictured him saying it slowly, precisely, beautifully -- tin-tin-na-bu-la (and then taking his time over the last syllable) -shhun.  Being precise with the "shh" sound.  Languishing over it, loving it, not rushing it.

Then, without all that much thought to it, I came up with a little collection of beautiful words that just popped into my head--words that I found exceptionally lovely ... in no particular order.

cherimoya
afternoon
summertime
windowsill
twilight
evening
loon
meadowlark
luminous
hush
windchime
teacup
Palladian
bell
lemondrop
glide
ploughman (that, after reading Edna St. Vincent Millay)


Just for fun, here's the link to Bertrand Russell's 20 favorite words.



Wednesday, December 7, 2016

Gallery of Photos: Autumn Around and About

Autumn around here goes from the still-green to the all-white.  A movie company that once filmed this region, said they could fit representations of three seasons into just this one.  The only one that wouldn't fit was the frail green of spring with its corresponding pinks.

In celebration of the (nearly finished) season, here are a few photos.






















First snow











Tuesday, November 29, 2016

Things That Help



So what does it for you?  A glass of wine and a good chair around 4 p.m.?  A desert sunset?  A walk along a beach?  Sleeping in?  Decluttering a closet?  A long phone conversation?  Monitoring monarch butterfly migrations? Listening to Ella?  Singing Ella?  Fly fishing?  Running a 5K?  Chocolate?

For me:

It's being with someone with a fabulous sense of humor and having a good laugh! 

Having someone else make supper.

Having someone else come up with a plan to go someplace together.

Going someplace by train.  (Planes are no fun anymore.)

Finding a fabulous new book in the library.

Playing my Coyote Oldman "Tear of the Moon" CD -- Native American flute and Incan pan pipes.

Sleeping through the night.

Seeing afternoon light filter through a line of trees, especially in the autumn when there are fewer leaves.




Thursday, November 10, 2016

An Elsewhere Land




  • Since cars didn't have turn signals, drivers had to open their window and stick their arm out to indicate a left- or right-hand turn.  Straight out for left; bent up for right.  I haven't a clue what they did in snowy climates.
  • Laundry was hung out to dry on a line with clothes pins.
  • Women weren't called "moms" except by their own children; they were called "mothers."  As in Happy Mother's Day.  They also weren't called "stay-at-home-moms."  They were "housewives."
  • Generally, a man's salary could support the family so women stayed home to tend house and children.  They sewed clothes, gardened, made three meals a day from scratch, laundered, ironed, dusted, vacuumed, took the pets to the vet.  There were no drip-dry shirts; all cotton shirts had to be ironed.
  • Doctors made house calls.
  • Popcorn at movies cost 10 cents a bag.
  • Movies played continuously; two for the price of one.
  • Marshmallows were a legitimate ingredient in Jell-O salads and sweet potato dishes.
  • Children rode bicycles or walked to school.  School buses were only available for those who lived some distance.  School started at 9:00 and got out at 3:30.  Anyone could walk into a school at any time.
  • No one ate pizza until around 1956.  Then it was called pizza pie from the lyrics to That's Amore sung by Dean Martin.
  • There were no shopping malls or fast-food restaurants.  The first fast-food hamburger place that I remember charged 15 cents for a burger.  That was around 1953.
  • A family of four could get a month's groceries for $50.
  • There was no aluminum foil or plastic wrap.  Plastic bags came out in the early 1950's.
  • People lived in small houses.  A couple of bedrooms (with small closets), one bathroom, a living room and a small kitchen.  Plus a back yard to play in.
  • Three people could sit comfortably in the front seat of a car (no bucket seats) and children spread out in the back seat.  No seat belts until ca. 1961.
  • Gas stations weren't self-serve.  An attendant filled your tank, opened your hood, checked your water and oil levels, and made sure you had enough air in your tires.  Sometimes, they gave out free steak knives to entice you to go to their station instead of the one down the road.
  • There were no credit cards.  You paid in cash.  Or you charged it.
  • Many roads were two-lane only.  A few had a third/middle lane for passing.  Of course, to use that lane, you had to be sure no one was already in it coming toward you.
  • With no television, children listened to radio programs after school:  The Green Hornet, The Lone Ranger, Sergeant Preston of the Yukon.  Otherwise, they played hop scotch on the sidewalk outside their house.  Or they built forts in their bushes.  Or they practiced shooting a bulls-eye target with bows and arrows.  Or they made a cake and iced it.  Or they set the dinner table, peeled carrots, washed dishes, played rummy, checkers, chess.  Or they sat around the radio after dinner listening to the Bob Hope or Jack Benny shows.  Or they practiced a musical instrument.
  • People were optimistic that the government was doing its best for everyone.
  • The word "hippies" hadn't been invented; such people were called "beatniks" or "bohemians."
  • One didn't have to fly to cross the Atlantic or Pacific; one could travel by freighter or ocean liner.
  • Young and old, people smoked.   (Trains, too ...)











Tuesday, October 25, 2016

And Now For Something A Little Different

It's been some time since I've had a similar post, but I guarantee you will enjoy these links that friends have sent me.  Exquisite Cuban ballet dancers in Havana's streets, French chateaux for sale, majestic libraries old and new, and photos of D-Day that morph into the same setting 70 years later.


1.  Cuban dancers  (give it a little time for the images to come up)

2.  French chateaux

3.  Majestic libraries

4.  D-Day scenes (drag the mouse back and forth to see the scene in 1944 and then 2014) D-Day 

Friday, October 14, 2016

Apple Time in Vermont

People around here (mostly tourists) think about this as being leaf season which it is, of course, but for those of us who actually live here, it's also apple time.  And apples can be gotten rain or shine whereas leaf viewing is enhanced by having glorious weather ... and this last holiday (which I understand is now to be called Indigenous People's Day) was 1) gloomy on Saturday and 2) gloomy and rainy on Sunday.  It was Monday (I.P. Day, itself), with everyone back on the road going home again, that turned out to be gorgeous.  But regardless of the gloomy weekend, visitors still flocked this way.  I chose to stay in, make soup, read David Copperfield, catch up on my ironing, and marvel at all the company at the neighbor's across the street.  I also got to the farmers' market early enough to find a parking spot, gather my weekly head of butter-crunch lettuce (THE best) plus a bouquet of zinnias, then skedaddle home.

The Sunday before, some of us made a PYO trip to a local apple orchard where we filled a bag with (mostly) Cortlands and (a few) McIntosh. (The Cortlands are crisper.)  At the end, here, you'll see what I did with mine.  I also went out one day to another orchard which, incidentally, was used as the setting for the bunk house in that movie some years back, Cider House Rules.


Picking time at our local Cortland Hill Orchard

For wasps, squirrels, deer ... plus cider-makers.



Scott Farm, a wonderful 571-acre farm that produces 120 varieties of ecologically-grown apples.
The building on the extreme right served as the bunk-house setting in the movie, Cider House Rules.


Scott Farm dates from 1862.  (You can just make out the year on the sign.)


More apples from another farm stand.



My heavenly mostly-Cortland apple pie



Saturday, October 1, 2016

Some Favorite Quotations



Over the years, I've made lists of quotations from my reading that I'm then never quite sure what to do with.  What it mostly amounts to is running into them when cleaning out my office files.  Now, I ask myself, why not share a few with you?


          Chaos should be regarded as extremely good news.
                   Venerable Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche

          Life is always this choice--to choose an old house nearer the office or the new one sitting amidst coconut gardens.
                    Raja Rao, The Cat and Shakespeare

          You mean can one be "just angry" with nothing extra--like a thunderstorm that comes and goes?  Gosh, I wish I could do that.
                    Zen Master Suzuki Roshi

          Committee Defined:  A group of people who, individually, can do nothing, but collectively can meet and decide that nothing can be done.
                    Thomas L. Martin, Jr., Malice in Blunderland

          .... he had endless time on his hands, which in itself is the mark of a great soul.
                    Henry Miller, Colossus of Maroussi

          Just watch the movie of life, without judging it, avoiding it, grasping it, pushing it, or pulling it.  You merely Witness it ....
                    Ken Wilber, One Taste

          .... the nature of politics is to subtract meaning from language.
                    Bernard S. Bowdlerberg

          Too much of a good thing can be wonderful.
                    Mae West

          We stand today at a crossroads:  One path leads to despair and utter hopelessness.  The other leads to total extinction.  Let us hope we have the wisdom to make the right choice.
                    Woody Allen






   




Friday, September 16, 2016

Genealogy Jag Update


(See my April 21st posting.)

Gotta admit:  this was a whole lot more work than I expected.  I finished what I set out to do but found much more material than I wanted to deal with so didn't carry on "down the years."  Obviously, as one goes on back, it becomes less accurate, and I didn't want to spend hours accessing maybe-so/maybe-no data.  Like someone who was born, had his family, and died all within the (given) years of, say, 1504-1515.  Or the man whose dates indicated that his mother had been born several years after he had already died.  Or, for that matter, so many possible branches with more and more names and dates that it would make any reader's head spin.  Then, too, some researchers seemed so zonked out by the time they got to the 1400s that they put down 20th century dates just to liven things up.

I was hooked into one of those genealogical web-sites that gives the names of the parents of whomever one keys in.  Which would be fine but such information can go back centuries.  Then, of course, as I've already said, if the connection is spurious, why pursue it.  I got lords and ladies, sheriffs of this English county and that, three Lord Mayors of London, most of which I discarded since I had no idea if the connection was legitimate.  I traced one family through their thousand years in England to find the "first" of the family was a Tuscan who had befriended William the Conqueror. There was no way I wanted to write all their particulars down so was glad when I found a glitch that allowed me to scratch all that.  You might well say:  some researcher you are!  Right.  Too much work at this point.  But I wanted what I ended up with to be as accurate as possible.

So I stayed this side of the pond though admit that continuing on back brought up some wonderful names.  Like Fulke Le Strange, 1st Lord of Blackmere.  Such a name makes you think of a children's book about medieval knights--which I guess he was.  I also got someone akin to the Sheriff of Nottingham as a possible ancestor.  Yikes.  And after all those Robin Hood movies, too!  But then to compensate, I had a good chuckle when a Mr. Fisher married a Miss Fryer.

Then I was given the name Sallye Lnu as the 16th century Welsh mother of another possible ancestor, but the name Lnu didn't fit a Welsh lass of any century.  But there it was, written out, and repeated by other researchers. Then, of course, I realized it wasn't a name at all but the initials for Last Name Unknown.

And then records get hazy after awhile.  One poor woman was listed as having had 30 children. And there was the man who was born in The Tower of London!  Goodness, I thought, what brought that about!  But then I found it was Tower Street, London.  An important difference.

So, you see, it can be fun, it can be interesting, but there's a lot of fuzzy information.  Even a lot of un-fuzzy information which is why I decided to just list the more recent folks I was fairly sure about and suppose someone else might want to take up the banner one day and plow into the rest.

Yet ... so much for my promise to just investigate "the recent folks."  Right after saying that, I found 41 generations of one Welsh family ending in the year 500.  Afterwards, I got up from my chair feeling as if I'd been out on the high seas, I was so wobbly.

Wednesday, August 31, 2016

Savory Tomato Tart



Ah, it's tomato time.





This is the kind I used for this recipe

And my local farm stand always puts out a magnificent array of plump, gorgeous, juicy tomatoes.  So .. a few days ago I realized it was time to get out my good savory tart recipe which I then proceeded to make up yesterday.

There are two preps here.

1.  One is to make a crust for a 9"-10" pie dish.  Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

1 + 1/2 c. flour
1/4 lb. butter (one stick)
1/4 t. salt
4 - 5 T. ice water.
Cut the butter into the flour (and salt) so that it's the size of small peas.  Add enough ice water to form the dough into a smooth round ball.  Roll out.  Place in the pie dish and bake for 8 minutes.  (I put in a piece of foil and scattered some of those pea-like ceramic pie weights.  Not sure how necessary they are, but they do keep the crust from puffing up.)  Let cool.  Turn off oven.

After pre-baking for 8 minutes


2.  The other prep is for the filling.

3 lb. tomatoes.  Drop 2-3 at a time into boiling water for 20 seconds, then peel.  Cut each in half cross-wise and dig out the seeds and juice without being too vigorous about it.  In other words, don't squeeze the tomatoes.
1 medium-sized onion.  Dice and sauté in olive oil.  Be careful not to burn.
1 clove of garlic.  Mince or press.  Add to onion at end.
Give the tomatoes a rough chop and add them along with:
3/4 t. dried oregano
4 T. chopped fresh parsley
4 T. chopped fresh basil
Salt and pepper
Turn burner to medium low and let this all cook awhile.  I gave it about 20 minutes.

Fresh parsley and basil


Pour the tomato mixture into a colander placed over a bowl and simply let the juices drain into the bowl.  I allowed 10 or 15 minutes for that.

Letting the juices drain out of the tomato mixture

Then, return those juices to your pot and let them reduce down at a simmer.  Watch carefully so that they don't start to brown.  Turn off the heat, put the tomatoes from the colander back in the pot, and mix them with the reduced juices.

Let cool.
When you are nearing the time to complete the tart, preheat oven to 375.
Beat 2 eggs
Add in 1/3 c. mayonnaise and beat until smooth.
Grate 1/4 pound of a nice sharp cheddar cheese and divide into two piles.
Add the egg/mayo to the tomatoes.
And stir in one pile of cheese.

Two piles of cheese



Two eggs, whisked

Pour into the pie crust and sprinkle on the second pile of cheese.

Ready to put in the oven


Bake 30 minutes at 375.

The final thing ... yum!!




Sunday, August 14, 2016

A Gallery of Photos: The Summer of 2016



Here we are, mid-August already.  The day lilies are past, the apple tree leaves turning, the morning glories thriving, and the air is filled with "humdiddy," as we used to say.  It all does go by quickly, doesn't it.  Crossing guards will soon get out their stop signs and school buses will be humming up and down the streets.
 













































Thursday, July 28, 2016

Working to Untwist Things








Alternative media:

1.  Stuart Jeanne Bramhall--stuartjeannebramhall.com (An American activist and retired child psychiatrist who moved to New Zealand.  Daily.)

2.  James Howard Kunstler--kunstler.com (Intelligent, graphic political writer. New blog every Monday.)

3.  Paul Craig Roberts--paulcraigroberts.org (Trustworthy writer, former Asst. Secretary of the Treasury.  Daily.)

4.  Chris Hedges--truthdig.com (Great human being, great activist.  New posting every Sunday.)

5.  activistpost.com (Also good is Peter Kirby in the environmental section on chemtrails/geoengineering. Activist Post is daily; Peter Kirby is not.)

6.  off-guardian.org  (Daily.)

7.  usawatchdog.com  (New postings every few days.)


Sunday, July 17, 2016

Quietude




Ah, the best time of all is just after I get up which is 5 A.M.  Then I have a couple of hours when things are quiet around here.  No 18-wheelers changing gears out on the interstate.  Or bikers making the turn-off just a couple of streets away.  Or back-up beeps from trunks turning around on this dead-end street.  The frequently-visiting family (with dog) across the street is still asleep so no bouncing ball as they shoot hoops--with that methodical "thonk ... thonk" which reverberates throughout my house.  And their dog is asleep so no barking.  No chain saws taking out a tree, as last evening.  No lawn mowing.  (I actually don't mind lawn mowing--it never lasts long so you know it's going to stop pretty soon.)  No slamming car doors when loading, unloading, or packing the family and dog to go to town, the farmers market ... or maybe home again.  ... And then the resident dog-up-the-hill is still inside so she's not barking either.

We used to live in a lovely residential area in another town where we always acknowledged those first spring days after being indoors all winter.  We'd take chairs out to the garden and just savor the warmth, the peace. Until the fraternity two doors away savored them too by bringing out their boom box, turning up the music, and having their beer party.

So I value these early hours.  I have my tea.  I look out and watch the sunlight as it begins to fill my street. The stillness.  And I just sit and am.

Which reminds me of some lines out of Rumer Godden's book, Thus Far and No Further, about the time during World War II when her husband had gone off and she was about to take her two young daughters and live within view of the Himalayas on a tea plantation near Darjeeling, India.  (A beautiful book, by the way.)

"But what in the world will you do there?"
"Live there."
"But what will you do?"
"Live."

So it is for me at this blessed hour of the day.

Monday, June 27, 2016

Simple Pleasures

Very old olive trees in St-Remy


Okay, I'm going to make a list of things I totally respond to and, no, it's not a long list.
  • A picnic of fresh bread, cheeses, and wine laid out in some herbaceous countryside where one can sit in the sun, listen to the cicadas, and take in the warmth and fresh air.
  • Olives, of course.  Lots of olives.
  • Sunshine and blue skies.
  • The scent of lavender.
  • Outdoor markets with more fresh bread, more fresh cheeses, and bins of more olives all set out by people who love their work and wouldn't want to be doing anything else.
  • The feeling that life is good, as a result of the above.
Such simple pleasures, yet it seems as if there's only one place that takes them to heart and knows how to do them to perfection.  And that is France.  At any rate, I find myself picking up book after book about France--its style, its wonders, its peculiarities.  I do love it there.  I tried spending some winter weeks there nearly ten years ago hoping to come away able to speak the language after taking daily classes.  But my brain became saturated very quickly and by the time I got home again, I put away all thoughts of speaking French.  (Should have learned it before I was eleven, I told myself, not at sixty-something.)

Arles

At any rate, I find myself favoring books about France.  Right now, as it happens, I'm in the process of reading two.  One is Pardon My French, How a Grumpy American Fell in Love with France, by Allen Johnson.  The other is The Only Street in Paris, Life on the Rue des Martyrs by Elaine Sciolino.

Looking through my bookshelf, I find several I can recommend:

Polly Platt, French or Foe, Getting the Most Out of Visiting, Living, and Working in France.  (Lots of good practical info.  For instance, it's important to understand that the French rank both wit and liberty HIGH on their lists.)

The English actress, Carol Drinkwater who's lived in Provence for years, has written several including, 1) The Olive Farm, A Memoir of Life, Love, and Olive Oil in the South of France, and 2) The Olive Season, Amour, A New Life, and Olives, Too ...!

Of course, there's Peter Mayle, the Englishman, with his now-classic, A Year in Provence, plus Toujours Provence.  I think I've also read all of his fiction set in France--all light, fun reading.

Avignon

Then there's:

Sarah Turnbull, Almost French, Love and a New Life in Paris (about what makes the French tick).

Ellie Nielsen, Buying a Piece of Paris, A Memoir.  (An Australian family buy an apartment.)

And food books:

Luke Barr, Provence, 1970, M.F.K.Fisher, Julia Child, James Beard, and the Reinvention of American Taste. 

David Lebovitz, The Sweet Life in Paris, Delicious Adventures in the World's Most Glorious--and Perplexing--City.  (With recipes.)

Karen Le Billon, French Kids Eat Everything, How Our Family Moved to France, Cured Picky Eating, Banned Snacking, and Discovered 10 Simple Rules for Raising Happy, Healthy Eaters.  (Should be required reading.)


Of a different nature, there's A Life of Her Own, the Transformation of a Countrywoman in Twentieth-Century France, by Emilie Carles (1900-1979) who was born into a peasant community in the high Alps and tells about, as the jacket says, "a world that has largely disappeared ... and the one that has emerged to take its place."  For me, a keeper.

As is Simone de Beauvoir's (1908-1986) four-volume autobiography:  1) Memoirs of a Dutiful Daughter, 2) The Prime of Life, 3) Force of Circumstance, and 4) All Said and Done.  (Note:  sometimes the third volume is divided into two separate books: 1) After the War and 2) Hard Times.)

Then, another American author, the wife of a Frenchman and mother of two children who tease her about her accent, has a book about French words, Words in a French Life, Lessons in Love and Language from the South of France, by Kristin Espinasse.

Near the square in the city of Nice.  Check out that blue sky!

While we're sticking with non-fiction books, I'm going to add Marcel Pagnol's reminiscences about his childhood in Marseilles and the Provençal countryside--My Father's Glory and My Mother's Castle.  (Both books are published in one volume unless you're buying French editions.)  (You may remember the exquisite movies by the same name.)  So I've just gone down to my bookstore and ordered a copy.

(Though it's a work of fiction and these others aren't, one current book I do not recommend is The Little Paris Bookshop by Nina George which has a good premise--prescribing books for people's ailments--but is predictable and cliched.)

So, with July coming up, I'm devoting this posting to France.  There is, of course, July 14th, Bastille Day.  But I also want to mention July 1st, the hundredth birthday of one of my favorite actresses:  Olivia de Havilland who has lived in Paris more than half her life. 

Sunday, June 12, 2016

A Gallery of Photos: A Little Farther Afield This Time



When an old friend visited recently from another part of the country, not having been in New England for many years, we took a couple of excursions to reacquaint her with this part of Vermont.  Remember:  Vermont's claim to charm is all about its success in offering its own particular anachronistic look and feel.  Down-home stuff.  1940's.  There are no bill boards along the highways. There are plenty of dirt roads to say nothing of winding two-lane by-ways over hill and dale.  It's the sort of place where you drive by white steepled churches, country general stores, cows, plus a good number of brooks which earn the adjective, "babbling."  Of course, it was those very babblers that overflowed during Hurricane Irene a few years back, bringing on disastrous flooding.  Otherwise, yes, they're delightful.

1.  Bennington.  The Old First Church and Robert Frost's Grave

The Old First Church

The Frost Family Gravestone.  (You can see the pennies people have put there.)

His name is at the top, along with "I had a lover's quarrel with the world."

2.  Manchester.  The Equinox Inn.  Or I guess it's now called "The Equinox, a Luxury Collection Golf Resort and Spa."

Established in 1853, the Equinox Inn is next to the Old Marsh Tavern (1763).  We stopped here mid-day for a glass of white wine before carrying on.

3.  Weston (population 566).  The Vermont Country Store, the Weston Village Store, and the Craft Building

The Vermont Country Store calls itself the "Purveyors of the Practical and Hard-to-Find."

The old wood stove is still cranked up on winter days.  (If something works, don't haul in one of those modern gadgets!)

Dating from 1946, the store prides itself on its old-time merchandise.

The Weston Village Store (across the street) and its whirligigs.

This gorgeous building with its artistic shingle-work has been a firehouse, a machine shop, a studio for craftspeople, and now houses the red Concord coach used as a bandwagon by the Weston Cornet Band from 1880-1930, one of only two in existence.

4.  The village of Grafton with its Grafton Inn and old White Church

The Grafton Inn (rockers and all), once called the Old Tavern at Grafton. 




Life in a Vermont village.
The quintessential New England church--this, Grafton's "White Church."