Jumping Monkies

     When Duncan chases squirrels in the backyard, we marvel at his sprinting speed and when the little acrobats tease him unmercifully by keeping just out of reach on the ash trunk, we laugh at his attempts to get up the tree. The poor dog jumps as high as possible and probably wishes he had some chimp-like climbing ability.
  

     After photographing Dunc, I was treated to a visit by the neighbor kids and we played Jumping Monkeys  at the dining room table. The object of the game is to catapult all four of your monkeys onto a 12-inch plastic tree before the other players. The fun is fast-paced and requires some practice (especially by little hands) to get a good aim. Also it is important to use the correct pressure on the launcher, as three-year-old Lydia found when one of her monkeys landed atop the chandelier instead of on the tree. Laughter ensued and amid the giggles, I grabbed the camera and got a shot of Lydia's errant ape. It WAS a day for simian high jinks.

Boxing Molly

     Putting up the Christmas lights has become easier over the years because I have learned to label each string and the end of each string to correspond with a location on the house, fence or shrub. It has also become customary for Miss Molly to appropriate one of the storage boxes as soon as it is emptied. (Her occupation is temporary, however, because the box is soon relegated back to a shelf in the basement for the season.)

Pup in a Leaf Pile

     It was just after sunset and there was only a hint of light remaining on the western horizon. When I snapped this photo of the little girls at play in a huge leaf pile, it was dark enough that I did not see the dog. However my flash picked him up and later, when viewed on a monitor screen, I laughed to see his little face peeking out of the leaves. That friendly farm pup thoroughly enjoyed having playmates for the day.

The Nature of Thankfulness

     The meandering Meramec River in Missouri travels more than 200 miles, twisting and turning before it reaches the Mississippi. Close to the river in Crawford County, where we spent Thanksgiving day at a brother's home, autumn had stripped the leaves from the forests, opening up some delightful trails and vistas. An afternoon hike took us over rugged bluffs and leaf-carpeted valleys, where we enjoyed the fresh air, the scenery and a remaining bit of forest flora.

     A fallen tree boasted this lovely fuzzy moss that included delicate orange appendages (flowers?) - all brilliantly highlighted by the slanting rays of the late November sun. The landscape, the sky, and the warm still air seemed to be holding on to autumn while the inevitable grip of Old Man Winter loomed.

The Borador Momentarily Not in Motion

     In the backyard, my Duncan is rarely an object at rest, therefore when I saw him reposed yesterday, I had to record it for posterity. He had positioned himself in the very middle of the yard, with an eye on the trees at right and left (for squirrels) and the neighbor's deck to the rear (for cats), so he was not actually napping. I know that he likes to be close to the fireplace or snuggled under blankets so perhaps he was also enjoying the warmth of the afternoon sun on one of autumn's last ambrosial days.

Of course, when he hears the click of the camera shutter, he is instantly alert!

Long and Phillips

     Two ordinary names - two extraordinary couples (at least by modern standards) - their lives were composed of  heartbreaking losses and exhilarating triumphs. This beautiful photograph must have commemorated some event, perhaps Alfred and Nellie's wedding, but is not documented. It is solely speculation but I believe that there was a special bond between father and daughter, evidenced only by the rest of her hand on his shoulder, the reach of his arm in her direction and the fact that, in his later years,  he followed her to Grand Rapids from Detroit.

      Jane Hartigan, seated on left, was one of six children born to Irish immigrants in St. John, New Brunswick, Canada, who moved to Massachusetts in 1850. That same year, following the birth of a seventh sibling and shortly thereafter the death of her father, teen aged Jane began working in a textile mill to help support her family. Jane may have met Jeremiah Long through her brother (both were apprenticed to boot-makers).    

     In the photo, Jeremiah appears almost pompous but it may be that he was just very self-confident and fiercely independent, attributes that would serve him well in his later years when he held the 

office of Michigan state representative (photo below - back row - far right).  Letters and original poetry still survive that prove him also to have been  a loving, tender-hearted patriarch. At the end of his life, Jeremiah was a widower and lived with his granddaughter's family; sadly blindness contributed to his death when he misstepped and fell down a basement stairway.

      Jeremiah came to America from Cork, Ireland as a little boy, possibly following a much older brother. When he met Jane he was living with an Irish family named Morrow. In 1861 he enlisted in the Union Army, serving as a rifleman in the militia, and at Fort McHenry he sustained a wound from a rebel sword. When he returned home early in the summer of 1862, he and Jane married immediately. 

      Jane and Jeremiah had nine children but it was a heart-breaking loss when two did not survive infancy and two died as young adults. By 1880 the family had moved more than 700 miles west to Detroit, Michigan (anti-Irish sentiment was rampant in the northeastern cities) and Jeremiah was working in a customs office.  There young Nellie met Alfred Phillips. They stand in the photo, straight-backed, determined and dreamy with plans for the future - Nellie with her delicate features and pert nose, and Alfred so boyishly handsome with dark gentle eyes. Their life together is another story, another post.

    

The Wisdom of Apples

     Sweet nephew, Nathan, had his wisdom teeth extracted and I wanted to help him feel better. Couldn't take away the pain or the swelling but I did know that the boy loves homemade baked goods. Since there was a ten pound bag of apples waiting in the kitchen, I decided not on bread or cake but a healthy crock of chunky applesauce. I figured that the cinnamon-y slightly sweetened  treat could be eaten either warm or cold, and  would require little chewing and limited mouth opening! 

     I wanted enough applesauce for us to have a couple of quarts, as well as the half-quart for Nathan, so the apple peeler was deemed necessary. It made quick work of peeling, coring and slicing, though the chunks were a bit smaller than I usually prefer. Of course, the house smelled heavenly while the sauce simmered on the stove and we enjoyed some with our dinner that night. And next morning when I visited Nathan, his puffy face lit up and he immediately sat down, opened his gift and began savoring spoonfuls of his very own fall feast.

November Robins - A Gathering

     The big window above my kitchen sink affords a good view of my little pond, which is now covered with screens to keep out the autumn leaves. While rinsing the breakfast dishes this morning, I noticed a couple of robins alighting on the screen. Then several more flew in until there was at least a dozen of the red-breasts surrounding the pond. They all seemed thirsty for the moisture that had accumulated on the screen (from droplets splashed by the waterfall in front of the concrete frog.) In all, the boisterous flock created an interesting diversion from a mundane chore.

Our Nonnie

     Great-aunt Nonnie was a prominent figure in my early childhood. She was a trim tiny woman with porcelain skin and soft gray hair that she unpinned only at night. Mild in manner and serene, she was nonetheless a little dynamo - cooking, baking, cleaning and caring for family as well as countless relatives and friends that frequented her Grand Rapids home. Even while sitting on the front porch swing, her fingers were forever busy, peeling apples or stringing green beans and her neat shirtwaist dresses were always covered with an apron. Nonnie's good home baked bread was simply an essential weekly staple but it was and is, the standard by which I judge any white bread (as her home was the epitome of old-fashioned but fascinating charm.) When I knew Nonnie, she was a grandmother in her sixties but of course, I thought she was old.

     Florence Barry Phillips, our Nonnie and my grandmother's older sister, was born in Grand Rapids, Michigan; her father was from England and her mother was second-generation Irish. At age twenty-one, she married the equally mild-mannered Fred Follet Stoffer,  son of a successful farmer from a neighboring county, who worked in a local hardware store. Florence and Fred had five children, the youngest of which were energetic twin boys. Various other people lived in the home at different times: among them boarders, a blind grandfather, Florence's own sister and a niece, so obviously the couple were congenial and generous. 

     My mother once said she couldn't understand what Nonnie saw in plain, simple, unambitious Fred, but I think she chose well, especially after I was given the print below - our Gibson girl and her handsome dapper man!

b. 28 March 1889
d . 28 March 1980

Sparkly Miscanthus Display

     The early morning sun had just peeped over the roof lines east of our house. Shadows were still deep and dark but brilliant sunbeams suddenly illuminated the fall flowers of the miscanthus that border the fence, and the fronds appeared to sparkle like mini-fireworks. I knew this display would last only minutes so, still in robe and slippers, I grabbed my camera and scooted out the back door to shoot from a couple of different angles. I wonder if the neighbors have become accustomed to the crazy, camera lady who flits around the yard in her PJ's at six a.m. in the morning!?

Celestial Pumpkin for Halloween

     I guess you could say I get starry-eyed at the end of October - I love the themes of autumn and harvest and Halloween. My jack-o-lantern this year was also starry-eyed, literally! And far from being frightful, his big toothy smile conveyed an affable happiness. Several trick-or-treaters and their parents commented appreciatively on Jack's grinning countenance so I felt that my creative efforts, while simple, were worthwhile.

Itsy-Bitsy Potato Harvest

    This is the sum and total of our potato harvest. Pretty funny, huh?

     Actually these Lilliputian spuds are the result of an experiment in gardening. Early in the summer, we had a short length of wire fencing in the garage and some hay left over from lawn seeding - just the necessary accouterments for a potato tower (that seemed to be a popular topic among Pinterest gardeners.)  So we fashioned a tube out of the fencing and anchored it against the side fence, next to the herb garden. Then, against good gardening wisdom, we cut up a couple of Idaho potatoes from the grocery store and layered them in the tower with some good potting soil.

     Several strong stems emerged and grew vigorously, for a while. As summer progressed and a drought ensued, we watered the tower religiously but the plants became leggy and spindly. The problems were obvious - hot, dry weather and not enough direct sunlight. 

     Next year we may try this again, but earlier in the growing season and in another location and thankfully, we won't have to live off our harvest this winter!

Leafy Kitty

     My ordinarily indoor MollyAnna loves autumn. She becomes much more affectionate in October and returns to lap sitting (if the dog is not in sight). The sunny back porch is transformed into a playground and she abandons her basement litter box for the back lawn - we laugh at the little piles of leaves that mark her business. And she is happiest when one of her humans joins her in the sun, and will strike a pretty pose for the camera that shows off the "M" above her eyes.

Halloween Cutout Cookies

     Sister, Mae, gave me these cookie cutters a couple of years ago and I treasure them as much as my Christmas ones. However I will admit that I don't use the cat because it reminds me more of  the fictional character, Hello Kitty, than of a frightful Halloween feline.

     I mixed up the dough on Friday evening and refrigerated it, then rolled, cut and baked the cookies after breakfast on Saturday morning. Since I made about six dozen cookies (part of the batch was going to Mom and friends at her assisted living home, part to the grand kids, and part for us), I kept the decoration simple - orange frosting on some of the pumpkins, and orange features applied to the bats and the remaining pumpkins. A homemade piping bag (ziplock sandwich bag with a corner snipped off) makes this sort of task even simpler because it's disposable. 

     Below are a few of the finished products - a pre-Halloween project that has become a tradition, although the results vary from year to year!

Homemade Beef Jerky

     Because of the price of beef jerky, it is a rare treat in our house. We absolutely love it, the kids love it, and of course, the dog adores it. This summer while shopping for fishing tackle and camping accessories at the local outdoor recreation store, I saw a package of jerky cure and seasoning mix for making the treat at home. Later at the grocery I bought a London Broil steak (a lean cut of meat was recommended) and froze it partially to make cutting the thin strips easier. The strips were sprinkled liberally with the mix, placed in a bag, and refrigerated overnight. In the morning, I arranged the beef on racks placed over foil-covered pans (to prevent any juices from dripping onto the oven floor) and then set the oven on a low temp. A few hours later the jerky was dried and ready to eat. It was flavorful and just the right texture - chewy but not tough. We were please to have a large batch of  tasty, protein-filled snack without the large expense. However I think next time I think I would like to make my own marinade instead of a pre-packaged mix full of salts and preservatives.

Hello Praying Mantis

     The delightful October weather has lured us onto the screened porch to watch our beloved Cardinals participate in the National League Division Series. At least two other close neighbors do the same, so it is fun to share the (sometimes loud) cheers and the jeers. Saturday afternoon we were joined by a praying mantis who seemed to be watching through the screen, but by the time I had retrieved my camera from inside the house, he had taken flight and disappeared. Sunday afternoon, however, he showed up again, same place, same time, presumably to "prey" on our fun. This time I was able to photograph him and capture him in a jar for a short while, so I could show him to my littlest neighbors, who delight in discovering and studying the smaller members of the wildlife community in our backyards.

     Later in the day, I uploaded the photos into my computer and when I zoomed in and cropped this particular shot, found it somewhat eerie. The mantis's alien-like head was angled towards the camera and his compound eyes seemed to be staring right at me!

Herby Buckets (for a Couple of Bucks)

     A good friend has a penchant for mutilating the English language (which, to this word nerd, is funny the first time but grating when repeated). She takes "pitchers" with her camera, an approaching storm promises "inclimate" weather, and "dotsun" denotes a short-legged, long-bodied little dog. Therefore she would call this planting arrangement, "Herby" (like the nickname for Herbert) buckets.

     Mispronunciations aside, I was happy to find these metal buckets for a buck apiece at a flea market, (now the word nerd is using slang for alliterative effect!) With a large nail, I poked several holes in the bottom of both for drainage. A couple of bricks were used to elevate the upper bucket and then they were filled with potting soil. Three parsley starters were placed in the large bucket and a globe basil in the small one, (before photo above and after below). The plants thrived in the sun-warmed environment although they demanded a bit more care than those directly in the ground - watering was necessary nearly every other day in the dog days of summer - not a time to be "laxt" in my garden responsibilities!

Grandparents' Grand Rapids House

     Recently I wrote about my paternal grandfather and while searching for photos,  I found this darling Kodak portraiture of me, five of my siblings, Dad and Grandpa. The year was 1963 and this was probably the last vacation the family took to visit relatives in our hometown of Grand Rapids, traveling from our newer home in the St. Louis area. It must have been a Sunday because we were in dresses and never missed Sunday Mass in those days. However I find the photo interesting for other reasons as well. It is off-center but not awkwardly so because Grandpa stands, not with the family, but up on the porch behind, (perhaps the photographer felt the patriarch was the main subject!) 

     Anyway my attention was drawn to the house and consequently the number, 254. My memory of the house was vague and it bothered me that I could not remember the street name. Older sister, Carol, remembered only that it was close to our maternal grandmother's original home. Mom's memory could not serve her at all so I contacted my Dad's sister, who still lives in the area. She supplied me with the street name and the fact that the house was not in very good shape anymore. I found the residence on GoogleMaps and was able to zoom in pretty close. Aunt T's assessment was fitting. The bricks are chalky and discolored, the siding features mismatched colors, and the lawn is barren of any landscaping.  It made me sad...I prefer to remember the sunny image above.

My Mikey

     When did my little boy become such a man? His childhood passed so quickly, the years since have slipped by and now he is the father of two teenagers. Yesterday I watched his self-confidence, first as he assumed the role of announcer at an annual fundraiser, and then as he demonstrated some very capable handling of his K9 partner. I marvel that this quiet, patient, sensitive individual possesses such courage and strength in his daily occupation, while realizing that these qualities coalesce to make him a truly fine police officer. I could not be prouder.
                                                                                                   
       

         

             1975

Cranberry Orange Chex Mix

     Warning to self: do not attempt to keep a large bowl of this snack mix in the house - you WILL overeat! I made this last December but bagged it for Christmas gifts, so there was none left in our pantry to nibble later. However, I made it again recently for a gathering and doubled the batch just so we could have leftovers. Oh my, the combination of a bit of butter, brown sugar and orange juice concentrate mixed with Chex cereal, dried cranberries, almonds and white chocolate chips was just wonderful. Think I would even forsake a bag of salt and vinegar chips for a cup of this stuff.

Walenty: Polish-American Grandfather

     My father's father was christened Walenty Janus in Lublin, Poland, but later as a young adult, his first name was Americanized to William. A challenging aspect about William involved his birthday, which was recorded in several places as February 14. After researching the family and collecting some documents, I found that his birthday was actually June 12, 1893 and that it was common practice in Poland to celebrate the feast day of the saint for whom a person is named, rather than the actual birth date. Walenty is Polish for Valentine, thus the confusion. (and worse, in various US census records for different decades he is listed as Walenty Janus, Valentine Janus, William Janus and William James!)

      I often wonder why William immigrated to America in 1910. Was it to avoid being conscripted into the Russian Army? Or was he searching for his land of milk and honey? All I know for certain is that  for the rest of his life he worked as a finisher in a furniture factory. In 1917, he was drafted to serve in the American Army during World War I and in 1921, at the age of twenty-eight, he married eighteen year old Sophie Hojnacki, also a Polish immigrant.(I have heard that it was an arranged marriage but the source was not reliable). The couple had four children, one of whom died young in an unfortunate accident, and lived the rest of their lives in Grand Rapids, Michigan. They spoke English but very heavily accented. (During college, my father worked relentlessly to rid himself of any trace of ethnicity in his speech - he did, however teach us children to pray and to cuss in Polish!)

     William died in 1965 at the age of 75 and the only memory I have of him is a frail white-haired man chatting with his brother-in-law on the front porch. I wish I had known him better.

Point A to Point B

     I can draw up a mean blueprint and do some pretty challenging calculations but I am a terrible judge of distance and space. For instance when I looked at this container of oats I never figured it would all fit into the glass canister. It did.
     And sometimes I figure I've walked a couple of miles but it turns out to be one instead.
     I won't quit my day job...

Matzo Ball Soup

     My kitchen sometimes doubles as a stage for new and different recipes. Family and I have a library of tried and true favorites but like to try ethnic foods and regional cuisine. Pop enjoys the television series, Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives, and because it was highly recommended by Guy Fieri, this Matzo Ball Soup was on the menu last Saturday (if anyone else had suggested this, I'm not sure Pop would have been so eager to try it!) Anyway the soup was  identical to my own homemade soup made with a shredded home-cooked chicken, broth, celery, carrots, onion, garlic, bay leaf and egg noodles. The dumplings, which are standard fare in Jewish homes but something we had never tried, included matzo meal which is ground from an unleavened, cracker-like bread, and oil, chicken fat, and eggs. They were tender and fluffy and floated nicely in the lovely chicken soup. Pop really liked them, however, I (the UNpicky eater!) did not. Will we make them again? Unlikely...

Optimism and a Refinished Bathroom Vanity

     Life has dealt me some changes in the past year that have preyed on my normally happy psyche: the rapid decline in Mom's physical and mental health, the race to ready and sell her house so as to afford an assisted living facility, and psychological trauma that caused my son and his family to move thirty-five miles away (generating grandchildren withdrawal!) It is easy to sink into self-pity and depression even while I remind myself that there are worse things to be suffered in life. Therefore I allow myself time to grieve for crumbling customs and traditions, and seek diversion by keeping occupied as much as possible. 

     So that encapsulated disclosure explains why, when I realized how outdated and dull this bathroom vanity had become, refinishing it appealed more than buying a new one. Besides the wood was in very good shape so after removing the hardware, a regimen of sanding, staining and varnishing produced a beautiful glossy espresso finish. The old pulls were trashed and shiny stainless steel replacements, which match the newer faucet and towel bars, were found at the local hardware store. The smart contemporary look pleased me more than I had expected - now what can I do next?

b

Sweet Millions

     Not talking dollars here but if we were, I'd like them to grow on this plant. - a variety of cherry tomatoes, Sweet Million, which is aptly named. The indeterminate vines on the side of my house reach the roof and would grow over it if I allowed them, and most of the clusters are incredibly large. I love growing them up a twine trellis because the fruit is easy to reach, weeding is not even an issue, and squirrels never seem to bother them.

     Harvesting these little beauties can last for weeks and this year I have so many that I will be drying some for later use. But for now I enjoy a daily lunch of fresh picked tomatoes, cucumbers and either dill or chives - such a big plus that something so tasty is also so healthy!

The Color of Peppers

     As August draws to a close and a spell of extreme heat  has withered and wilted  the color out of lawns and flower gardens, hues are vibrant in the pepper plants.  Today's harvest included several varieties: bell, jalapeno, habanero, scotch bonnet, banana, and red chilies. Arranged by type or just thrown together in  a big bowl, the peppers present a lovely picture with their distinctive colors and shapes. 

1. 

Strawberry Brownies

     Three ingredient dessert - yes! Additives, preservatives, artificial coloring - yes, but once in awhile quick beats quality. I thought these were pretty tasty but Pop did not, therefore more than half went to Mom's dinner partners at her assisted living facility. Not sure why these are called brownies because the only resemblance is the chewy texture. The strawberry flavor is nice but I felt the squares were lacking something so I piped some chocolate icing over the top. That was just the necessary touch because now they were reminiscent of chocolate-covered strawberries!

S

River Lesson

     I must include one last commentary regarding this year's camping trip. It was early afternoon on a weekday and we were the only campers on site - the beach area and river were 'ours' alone. We had fished successfully for trout and bluegill, investigated the shoreline both up and down river, eaten lunch and were now resting under the umbrella for awhile with some magazines. Soon however, a lone canoeist appeared, gliding  quickly around the rapids at the bend and then slower through the deep pool in front of us. He stopped to converse for a moment, although he confessed that he preferred the solitude of unpopulated areas. We agreed, asked if he'd had any portages, answered his questions about fishing luck, and then wished him well as he pushed off. The friendly fellow turned and waved as he cornered a rock jetty, and we saw him stop, cast his line and fish for a few minutes before he floated out of site.

     The momentary encounter and quick, silent departure of the solitary mariner made me think of human relevance. Surrounded by the beautiful Ozark mountains, the rushing river currents, and the high, wide blue sky, and observing the endless varieties of wildlife in this valley, one can only realize that a human being is an insignificant presence in this microcosm, and indeed the universe. I was immensely humbled.

Nature Girl

     The camping trip mentioned in the previous post provided lots of photo opportunities, especially with the pristine beauty of the crystal clear stream and the panoramic scenery, but these human studies may be my favorite shots. Young Rissy is an animal lover to the 'nth' degree (it is difficult to get her to leave the local pet supply store because she swoons over the poor unadopted cats and the cages full of hamsters or ferrets!) so she delighted in discovering and studying the tiny toads that scattered as we walked along the shore. The little fellow below was content in her hand for a few moments of friendly scrutiny.

     Part of our day we spent in the shallows, and armed with small nets we hunted for tadpoles, crawdads, minnows or anything else that looked interesting, including unusual rocks. Of course, all of our catches, like this baby trout (a fingerling?) were soon released, but not before a tender good-bye.

     While writing about the photos above, I was reminded of another from about twelve years ago:  Rissy's brother, Vinny, was quite fond of his amphibious friend also!