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Making Memories Side By Side

17 Jun

I wasn’t planning to post anything about Father’s Day until I came across this story written by Jacob Leitzinger. He is eighteen years old, and attends Stetson University in DeLand. He is a swimmer, a bass singer, has his own motorcycle and loves to ride. He has a girlfriend who lives in South Carolina, and he is interested in all aspects of computer technology. Jacob believes in telling the truth and when he does, people sometimes take it as hilariously funny. Hmm, maybe that’s worth a try.

Oyster Shells 

There was a strange feeling in the air when I awoke. It was something I hadn’t felt in quite a while, and I almost missed it. Luckily, the feeling was brought to my attention the moment I opened my eyes, and stayed there over the course of the next few hours: It was early. It was a couple of weeks into summer vacation, and I had promised my uncle I would help him lay oyster mats in the river. I had done this once before of course, for my Eagle Scout project, so it made sense that he would ask for my assistance. I got out of bed, and got ready for a day with my uncle, my dad, UCF alumni and a whole bunch of oyster shells. My uncle, my father and I arrived early to map out the route to the deployment area and mentally prepare ourselves for the day ahead. People trickled in and small conversations sprung up and thrived until it was time to head out. We hopped on the boats and rode in style to the deployment area. Once there, it was long hours of (fun) repetitive work. In order to attract oysters, you first need oyster shells. I know that seems a little backwards, but bear with me. The shells of oysters release enzymes that attract oyster larvae. The larvae then cement themselves to the other oysters, creating the reef. Our job is to start the process. We begin with gridded mats with oyster shells zip tied on. We take these mats, and zip tie circular weights onto the corners to keep them underwater. Easy! The day passed quickly, with fun conversations and a tasty lunch to keep things interesting. At the end of the day, it was easy to tell the difference we had made. As you looked across the water, you could see the expanse of mats that were just layered. Then, with a snack and a smile, we packed up and headed back to our cars, content in our help to the environment.

The reason I chose to share this story on Father’s Day is because it demonstrates the best of the father-son relationship, making memories side by side.

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The Razzle-Dazzle Snake Mover

11 Jun


My Take

DiVoran Lites

I pull the chenille bedspread up to make the bed and there’s a baby black snake the size of a shoelace lying on the floor. When the light hits him, he wiggles to the baseboard and tries to go under the wall-to-wall carpet. Thank you rug man for making it tight.  What do I do now? There are two things I know I will not do. I will not touch him and I will not kill him. I hear one of our cats meowing for her breakfast from the closed studio. Another thing I will not do is let the cats take care of the problem, as much as they would love to. That would end in death for the small creature that is already running for his life. I send up a quick request for guidance. Oh yes, maybe I can herd him out the back door with my razzle dazzle, the long-handled duster Aunt Judy brought me from Colorado all those years ago. It is made of soft fuzzy fibers.

We’ve zigzagged about two feet when he slips under the door of an adjacent closet where I keep the vacuum cleaner. I stand before the door my heart pounding like a tom-tom. What shall I do now?

I’ll brush him out of the closet and we’ll be on our way to the back door. It’s only a few yards. I move the vacuums out, no snake. I reach down for a tissue box in which I’m storing plant sticks. There he is. I jump back a bit. He makes a break. Fast as a flash, he’s under a paper grocery bag we’ve made into a hide-away for the cats to play in. One cat is still meowing, “Let me in.”

I breathe deeply, and hold for the count of seven. I need Bill, but he’s still asleep. Oh, well, it’s almost time for him to get up. I knock on his door. “Will you help me? There’s a little snake in the house.” I go back to my post. “I’m in here,” I call out. “He’s under there.”

Bill has an extension to pick things up with if you can’t bend over. He goes to the studio to get it. Lily, still meowing dashes in. I wave the razzle-dazzle in her path. She brakes and skids to a halt, her claws scrambling on the kitchen vinyl. The other cat peeks around the corner. Bill picks them up one by one and puts them out as he goes for the extension.

We lift the sack and unveil the pitiful, rumpled shoestring in the corner near the built-in bookcase. Bill reaches out and carefully lifts the snake in the extension. The snake wiggles and drops to the floor. While he is still disoriented Bill secures him again and carries him out the front door in the soft rubber grippers. He sets him down in the flowerbed. Mission accomplished.

Matthew 6:33-34

English: Line art drawing of a black snake.

English: Line art drawing of a black snake. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

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The Home of Heroes

28 May

We are celebrating Memorial Day with our guest  Patricia Franklin. I love home town  stories, hope you do too.

Our town, Pueblo, Colorado, has a designation as “The Home of Heroes.” Our river walk has a section called the “Walk of Valor.” We have four Medal of Honor winners from Pueblo, the most from any place in the U.S. Their statues are at one end of the river walk. On the trail, there is a pedestrian bridge called “Veteran’s Bridge.” It is the only monument in the U.S. to honor veterans from every branch of the service. Originally, you could place the name of a veteran on a plaque for $75 to help build the bridge, so we did that for my husband who was in the service. There is still room for more names, but the cost is a little more now.

Further along at the end of the “Walk of Valor” is a building called the Center for American Values. One of our local photographers took pictures of all the living veterans who were Medal of Honor winners and they are displayed in this building, which is laid out like a classroom. It is free and open to the public and they take school kids there and teach them about the constitution, etc. Some local citizens, including one of the Medal of Honor winners who lives in Pueblo put this in place.

Some firefighters from New York visited here last year and were so impressed that they wanted to give something to the city. They sent a steel beam that came from the World Trade Center. The grandkids and I  were here right after it arrived and it was sitting on the floor of the Center at that time. We actually touched it and unsuccessfully tried to lift it, Anyway, the firefighters came back last weekend and our fire departments, police and sheriff departments, veterans, citizens and visitors were all present and we had the dedication of the monument you see here, dedicated to 9-11.

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Sour Cabbage

24 May

On the Porch

Onisha Ellis

I titled my blog Old Things R New because I want to learn the old ways of growing and preserving foods as well as  growing and using medicinal herbs. Recently I read “A Luminous Future” by Teodor Flonta. The book is set in the late 1940’s through the early 1960’s in Romania. I was fascinated with the foods he ate during that time, in particular, sour cabbage. In “A Luminous Future”, Teodor’s mother would ask him to get a sour cabbage out of the barrel for dinner. I love learning about different methods of food preservation and since Teodor is on twitter I was able to ask questions and he graciously answered.

            “Sour cabbage: take a whole cabbage, cut out the stem, get in the middle of it where the stem was and clean very well the white matter – you obtain a hole like a cone – fill that hole with coarse salt and place the cabbages on the bottom of a barrel next to each other, then you add other layers of cabbages on top until you fill the barrel. Then you add a handful of pepper whole grain, some horseradish, the root, and cover the cabbages with water. Then you place a plank or a lid on top of the barrel and on top of the lid you place a rock or something heavy to keep the cabbages pressed. That’s it. After 2-3 months your sour cabbage is ready. Among the cabbages you can put carrots, green tomatoes, turnips and they’ll be sour too and are quite good in winter. So, the juices the cabbage release and the water, plus the horseradish and pepper do the trick… you don’t need anything else to preserve them in.”

Of course, my next question was how do you eat it? Do you eat it cold or cook it?

“The cabbage can be eaten raw, as it comes from the barrel, like pickles. Or you can add a bit of oil and pepper like you do with salads. Ariella (wife) uses cumin seeds also and no pepper. Then you can fry it with mince meat or ribs or pieces of pork meat… first fry onions until translucent, add the cabbage, 2-3 bay leaves, 10-12 pepper grains, the meat and let it simmer for 40 minutes or so. It is delicious.”

I love the idea of going to a barrel and grabbing out a spicy cabbage so I am looking around for a small barrel. Thank you, Teodor for sharing your knowledge. Teodor and I also discussed preserving meat by larding. I am sure I will be writing about that in the coming weeks. “A Luminous Future” is a wonderful non-fiction novel and I highly recommend it.

If anyone has any tips for preserving or medicinal herbs, I would love to hear from you.

 

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19 May

write2freeu

I started writing Maternal Secrets approximately five years ago. One of the reasons it took me so long to write it was because I was weighed down by what other people would think about my writing. I was consumed with what my pastors at the time, past church friends and others in my Christian community would say. I found that I was using a lot of clichés that people who don’t go to church and are not indoctrinated into church social culture would know nothing about. I even altered the story line. The funny thing is after numerous re-writes and peeling back the layers of the story, I found myself back to the original story that I believe I was destined to write.

So now with book two, Maternal Instincts, I have decided to take the limits off. If I want my writing to transform as well as entertain readers I…

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5 May

I Don’t Recycle I Curb It

3 May

For the first time in my life I am living in the country. Well, not living, spending the summer in the “hills.” I began  growing fresh herbs last year  and this year will have a full-fledged garden. I don’t even mind weeding, which I NEVER did in town.  I am loving every minute of this new country life.

There are however, a couple of things I miss.  Have you driven through the country and wondered why some people have so much junk in their yards? No trash pick-up.I had heard  commercials plugging their product by offering free removal of your old appliance and thought they were pretty lame. Here in the hills if it can’t disguised in a contractor bag as household trash you have to haul it to the landfill, have them weigh your vehicle, then pay on the way out after they weigh you again. Who knew?

The other thing I miss is curb shopping. It is such a simple yet mutually beneficial process.  I  put  a useable item to the curb  hoping someone will be able to use it. Most of the time it disappears before I get back in the house but occasionally a shopper will knock on the door to verify the item is free. I’ve found my own treasures too. Just a couple of years ago I did some dumpster shopping from the house next door and got some mighty fine T.V. tables, barely needed washing.

I guess living in the country has taught me to appreciate the town advantages I took for granted. Oh, I forgot to mention shipping boxes, don’t get me started on that.

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Thanks For Sitting With Me

26 Apr

An elderly neighbor has a good size garden. Each spring two or three lawn chairs are set in the shade on their vacant property heralding the beginning of planting season. Someone tills the land and stakes appear for the tomatoes. The plants always flourish; the garden is a model of tidiness and weed free. At harvest time the vegetables are picked and then the garden begins its winter rest. Seldom do I see who does the work although I often see men resting underneath the shade.

I am thinking this is similar to creating a book, painting or raising a family. We see the fruit but don’t always see the actual work and like the farmer it’s nice to have someone to rest with in the shade.

Here is a picture of my attempt at a winter garden. It was so warm in Florida I started a potato bag. Unfortunately the vines didn’t like the transition to a western North Carolina spring and all but one died. Can’t wait to plant again.

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Flip-Flopping

21 Apr

As I mentioned in a previous post, we ran free in our childhood and we did it barefoot or in flip-flops. I remember my mother and I walking down the sidewalk to visit a friend, our flip-flops taping a rhythm flip,slap,flop, slap on the sidewalk. I lived in flip flops all the years when they weren’t cool like they are today. Then disaster struck. I developed plantar fasciitis. The muscle of my foot became inflamed and wearing any open backed shoe was painful. I put away my flip-flops for years.

Eventually I was able to move into sandals and I discovered Kinos. Kino is a brand of fabulous leather sandals made in Key West. Some people go to the Keys for fishing, swimming, or history, me I go for the sandals. I dash off the cruise ship and head for the Kino store, they have odd hours and I don’t want to miss them. Alas, I haven’t cruised to Key West in a couple of years and my Kinos are worn out. I searched the stores for a replacement for my beloved shoes and met sticker shock. My last leather Kinos cost eleven dollars per pair. No way was I paying the asking price for the poorly made shoes in the stores.

So that is how I ended up back in flip-flops. It wasn’t easy finding a pair I liked that didn’t cost a ridiculous amount of money but I did finally find the perfect pair at Old Navy. I love them and I love the sound they make. In my mind, I am once again walking down the sidewalk with my mom and running through the old neighborhood streets.

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Get Your Kicks On Route 66

19 Apr

Interstate highways changed the face of American small towns. Main Street America languished and  many towns failed completely. I am very pleased to share with you thoughts from a dear friend on one of America’s most famous highways, Route 66.

Get Your Kicks On Route 66

By Bill Lites

When my wife and I were first married, we lived in San Diego, California, and then Los Angeles while our parents lived in Albuquerque, New Mexico where we met.  We tried to visit our parents as often as we could.  In the mid 50s and 60s, the only route from the southern coast of California to Albuquerque was the famous two-lane Route 66.  We spent many hot, boring days traveling back and forth across that desert stretch.

Today with the Interstate highway system criss-crossing our country many of the older highways have been all but forgotten.  Not so for many of the small towns that thrived from that East-West traffic flow.  My most recent visit to an Aviation Air Museum took me to the historic Williams, Arizona (pop. 3475) where it was the last city on Route 66 to be by-passed by I-40.  This has not reduced the flavor or memories of those who live there. They have kept their city alive as a historic Arizona landmark.  As I sat eating dinner at Rob’s steakhouse, I was amazed to remember that back then Williams was just one of many small towns along Route 66 that we had to slow down for, causing our trip to be longer than I thought it needed to be.  Today I relaxed and enjoyed what was left of the historic downtown Williams, Arizona.  What a difference the years can make in our attitude toward a time or a place.

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