413 Gas explosion increases neighborliness

There was a gas explosion on Columbus' west side (Hague Avenue) Monday afternoon. It took 12 hours to cap it and 1300 homes lost power. Homes were evacuated. The power surge blacked out many homes beyond the danger area, and the outage stopped on my daughter's street--the south side, and she is on the north. Three of her neighbors are storing perishables in her basement refrigerator, and the next door neighbor (the only one on that side that lost power) has a power cord running to her kitchen from our daughter's home.

412 Foster Rose

On June 29 I wrote about having friends (clients) over for dinner at Lakeside. They gave us a lovely small blooming, deep pink, rose plant. As I gave them a warm thank-you, I whispered a quiet good-bye to the poor dear thing, knowing I would kill it within a week. When it started to look droopy, my husband took it outside and dug a hole beside the house and "planted" it. "It needs a lot of sun, and I don't think it is an outdoor plant anyway," I opined.

A few days later it wasn't there. I really hadn't expected it to disintegrate--just wither and die. "Where's the rose plant?" I asked. "I took it over to Dick's house," he said. "He's got a small white rose plant blooming along the drive-way that looks just great." Yeah, sure, I thought.

Dick agreed to foster our rose plant. It loves it at his house and is blooming like, well, like it never wants to go home again.

411 It will never be September 10 again

We were married on September 11. Apparently, people who choose that date today can just about have their pick of accomodations, because who wants to associate a wedding anniversary with a tragedy? Even in 1960, I knew life would never be September 10 again; my life would be forever changed by what happened on the 11th.

And so it is today. It will never be September 10 again. Even if Osama is caught, or killed or brought to trial, his movement of hate for western values will outlive him. The security measures we've seen this week in New York is our future, regardless of who is our President.

We have two candidates. One says we will respond when we are attacked. The other says we won't wait for an attack--we're on the offensive. Lives will be lost either way. But the one candidate sounds like he is living September 10 all over again.

410 The Longest Month

At the reception on Saturday some people commented on my poem that had been published in The Lakesider, July 31. Of course, I assumed it was my "Last day of July" poem, because I'd submitted several. But it wasn't, as I discovered when I looked through the paper that evening. It was my poem about February.

The Longest Month at the Lake--February
In the winter
when the snakes sleep
and the deer run
to the islands
on the ice flow
and my blood's thick,
cold and lonely
I will welcome
any stranger who waves,
any acquaintance who stops,
and any mail addressed to occupant.

There are two possibilities why the editor chose this one. 1) She is from the area and lives there in the winter, unlike the vacationers who just see the "perfect days." 2) She's of the school that believes poems shouldn't have rhyme or meter. The third possibility, I suppose, is that it fit the space!

409 The Perfect Day

Sunday, August 1, was the perfect day. The sky was clear with wonderful views of the islands and cool breezes. There was an ice cream social on the lawn of the Hotel Lakeside which drew such crowds the Friends of the Hotel raised $5,000. On the lawn was a band from a neighboring community playing rousing Sousa marches with lots of oompas from the brass section, and up the street the Ladies Club was having its annual book sale, $.50 a box after 4 p.m. There was an inflatable jumping gym set up in the park, and the three blonde child prodigy violinists were also performing in the park.

We four moved some chairs around on the pavilion deck as the sun changed positions and enjoyed the crowds, music and watching the children frolic on the sandy beach with our visiting Indiana relatives. Yes, a perfect day.

408 Client appreciation reception

About 60 people gathered at Hotel Lakeside yesterday afternoon to hear a thank you from my husband for being his clients over the last 10 years. It was a lot of fun, and the photo albums we prepared of the job sites were very popular, with people looking not only for their own homes, but fascinated by the other cottages that had been designed, or rebuilt or renovated. Our son had to make two trips back to our cottage (only 3 blocks) to pick up items we forgot, like the guest book and camera. People who RSVP'd at the last minute showed, and some that had called far ahead, didn't. But in general, it was a good turn out. He designed a t-shirt using the drawings of all the projects arranged in a design (front) with a list of the clients and their addresses (back), sort of like the "last tour" of some rock groups. We provided a map with key to all the projects (about 25 completed). T-shirts were also given to the Director, Bud Cox, the Programming guru, Keith Addy, and the various contractors, one of whom had done 9 of the jobs.

407 The last day of July

Lakeside streets and cottages could tell you a thousand love stories--the community is over 130 years old. The vacationers seeking a beautiful place to worship, learn and have fun first arrived by steamship (ended in 1939), and rail (ended in 1930) and interurban (ended in 1939). Bridges and high ways brought changes that come with automobiles, but they didn't change why people come here. Our neighbors (in Columbus) stopped by the cottage yesterday returning from upper Michigan. They had never been here. "We've been here an hour and a half," Jane said, "and I want to buy a place."

And there are other love stories--this poem was inspired by a young couple I saw under the street light last summer on the last day of July. This one, however, is about a summer love story from the 1940s.

It was too late for summer love,
They cried that day and said good-bye.
Cicada announced at sunset
It was the last day of July.

As August waited at the door
The sun slipped down more quickly now.
They strolled along the Lakeside dock
and to each other made this vow.

"We'll dance and swim and sing once more
when next July we'll meet again
with kisses sweet in pale moonlight
on the corner of Third and Lynn."

He shipped out for the Philippines;
She left for school at OSU.
During July in years to come
They both recalled that lovely view.

The lovers young did not return
to stroll the lakefront side by side,
'til this year each saw the other
with great grandchildren at Lakeside.

It was too late for summer love,
After hello they said good-bye
with a kiss for their own sunset--
It was the last day of July.

406 Stories about family

Another nice vacation story from one of my links, Shush, written by a young librarian, Greg. He tells of his family get-togethers of the last 35 years, and gives it a book twist by pointing out a collection of family stories written by his uncle. A nice, thoughtful piece. You'll enjoy Sunday July 25 titled, "Overhome." The book, by the same title, sounds like something my writing group which meets at the library to discuss publishing memoirs, might want to look at.

405 Entertainment just steps away

At Lakeside, I can get a year's supply of culture and entertainment just by walking down the street. I grew up in a home with a lot of music, and I miss that. Last night at Hoover we enjoyed pianist Michael Chertock who has performed at Carnegie Hall and with the symphonies of Cincinnati, Toronto, Philadelphia and Detroit among others. Some concert pianists seem to take themselves awfully seriously, but he was quite charming, chatted with his 6 year old daughter in the front row, and played a very nice variety including Beethoven, Liszt, Chopin, themes from two movies, Gershwin, and provided us with a stunning encore at the organ. The audience was wild about Michael, and he is cute enough to have groupies.

Sunday night the Scioto Ridge Boys performed their gospel and praise music. One member is retired from the OSU College of Food Agriculture and Environmental Sciences (where I was once a librarian). Here's a little piece about them at the Scioto Ridge Methodist Church website.

The always popular OSU Alumni Marching Band is the largest all brass band and percussion college alumni band in the United States, and they always pack the house at Hoover. Each year they return to the OSU Stadium for the first home football game where they can still perform "script Ohio." They don't do that at Hoover, but two drum majors did that twirlly thing Saturday night.

Friday night we took a trip back to the 50s (happens often around here) with the Diamonds, their do-wop and excellent instrumental skills (2 trombones, trumpet and sax). They began in 1956 and two of the guys in the photo in the Lakeside News weren't on stage, so they must be somewhat interchangeable. This photo looks like the group we saw. I thought they did a good job of keeping their act contemporary while not losing the nostalgia. Their signature hit "Little Darlin'" is remembered by most people from 50-70.

Eye, yi-eye-eye-eye
Yi-eye-eye-eye
Ya-ya-ya-ahh

Little darlin', oh, little darlin'
Oh-oh-oh where a-are you?
My love-a, I was wrong-a (la-la-la-la-la-la)
To-oo try to lo-ove two
A-hoopa, a-hoopa, hoopa
Kno-ow well-a that my love-a (la-la-la-la-la-la)
Wa-as just fo-or you, oh only-ee-ee-ee you

SPOKEN: My darlin', I NEED you (la-la-la-la-la-la) to call my own and NEVER do wrong. To
hold in mine your little hand (la-la-la-la-la-la). I'll know too soon that ALL is so grand.
Please,
hold my hand

My dear-a I-I was wrong-a
To-oo try to lo-ove two
A-hoopa, a-hoopa, hoopa
Know well that my love-a (la-la-la-la-la-la)
Wa-as just for you, oh only-ee-ee-ee you

Technically, this is the first "rap" with a spoken voice over, according to Lyrics XP.com.

Tom Chapin was the program on Thursday evening, July 22. I've seen him here several times, and Thursday he had a "back-up" guitarist whom I thought added a nice touch. He tells funny stories and always provides a good family show with good audience participation. The local story says he has performed for the American Library Association, which this year made the unfortunate choice of showing Michael Moore's disgusting and shameful movie at its annual meeting in Florida.

404 The complementary colors

In art class today we were told that surgeons' scrubs are green because it is the complementary color of red, the color of blood, and therefore soothing and calming for a tense atmosphere.

So maybe we should have left the red walls and green carpet in the family room and halls of the condo. Soothing. Hmmm. We found the color combination a bit jarring. Even the ceiling was red.

The big news from art class: Sharon says I'm bold. She looked at my painting, and was, I think, speechless. Instead of saying "Yuk," which might have been off-putting and discouraged me, she said, "It is so bold."

Last summer I wrote a poem about painting still lifes based on an article I saw in American Artist. When asked how she paints a still life, the artist said she paints first what will die first. I read it to the class and gave it to our instructor.

The artist’s eye
August 17, 2003

“What do artists paint first?”
And she would then reply
to questions they asked her,
“Whatever’s gonna’ die.”

Apple before basket
and rose before the bowl,
the dog before the pup
and mare before the foal.

Worm before fisherman
and wave before the storm,
Stars before horizon
and fog before the horn.

The creek before river
and leaf before the tree,
finally I’m painting
my lover before me.

For life is not forever
we do the best we can,
I squint my artist eye
and always have a plan.

401 Enmity at the Archives

In Friday's Wall Street Journal there is an article, "Enmity at the archives" about the book store at the National Archives. It carries lots of books about presidents like Jefferson, Lincoln and LBJ. It also carries smear titles about our current President. "The New Nuclear Danger: George W. Bush's Military Industrial Complex;" "American Dynasty: Aristocracy, Fortune, and the Politics of Deceit in the House of Bush." And then the oh so non-biased "Imperial Crusades: Iraq, Afghanistan, and Yugoslavia," (left wing essays); "Hoodwinked: The Documents that reveal how Bush Sold us a War;" "The Great unraveling: Losing our way. . ."; and some polemic, boring, academic titles which the author lists.

The author, Jonathan V. Last, says there is not one neutral or admiring book on President Bush, just the anti-Bush, anybody-but-Bush, bashes. I've seen these political tables at Barnes and Noble Bookstores, but they at least make an effort to present a variety of views. Last said something to the clerk, who apparently assumed he was approving of the staff choices, and he responded, "We tell [the people who complain about the titles] that they're not anti-Bush. They're just correcting the facts." The accompanying cartoon shows a puzzled customer at book tables labeled: Harangues, Screeds, Conspiracy Theories, and Rants. Last's final paragraph is priceless:

"It's possible that George W. Bush is an illegitimately installed fascist monster leading America's military-industrial complex on a nuclear crusade for world domination. But what kind of dime-store dictator can't even crush dissent at his own bookstore?"

Convention Behind the Scenes

In an expose story that would leave a bad taste in my mouth if I were the party faithful laboring back home, ABC News (6:30 EDT) just featured a behind the scenes look at the partying and bankrolling of the Democratic convention--parties, golf outings, concerts, paid for by donors who don't have to make an accounting of it as political donations to influence votes. I'm sure ABC will be even more heavy handed with their coverage of the Republican convention--but Peter Jennings will smirk more. He rushed away from this one as quickly as possible.

403 What are great vacations made of?

Take a look at Hip Liz's blog for a great road trip through California, Oregon and Washington. Hip is a guy, a dad, and a native Californian going through some values turmoil in his life (according to his bio). So it isn't like he hasn't done some road trips, but he's got some interesting stuff about his vacation. I met him in a writers' group and liked his stuff.

It is gray and cloudy here and I'm doing laundry and listening to reruns of Ellen (from Christmas time). Also, took a 2 hour nap. Where does the time go!

No masterpiece forthcoming from this morning's art class. Sharon set up some great still lifes, but because all my paintings usually tell a story (standing on the corner talking, sitting on the pier fishing, 4 old bikes for sale, children sitting on rocks in front of the lighthouse, middle age man watching a freighter, etc.) I'm having a hard time getting this straw hat and gloves to talk to me. I loved how they looked. I think this is the problem with most of my still lifes--they are so still. I picked lint out of the hair dryer for awhile, changed water in the jar, and admired Connie's painting, but still it didn't come. Sigh.

402 First donut of the season

With no car for a few days, I needed to improvise on my usual routine, so I tucked $2.00 in my pocket and headed for the lake front for a brisk walk to burn up a few calories before I stopped at the Patio Restaurant for a hot cinnamon donut and coffee. Prices have gone up, so it was $1.92 instead of the amount last summer when I could leave a decent tip. I apologized to the waitress. The coffee isn't very good, but the donuts are fab.

Along the lakefront I was joined by my friend Nancy who has been coming here since she was about 10 years old. Although it is not terribly cold, the wind is very brisk, so we both were bundled up for the weather, with jackets and head gear.

Art class starts today. The registration yesterday at the Rhein Center was a mob scene, and it started to rain while the line began to circle around the outside of the building. Sharon Borror will be teaching both a beginner and intermediate class. I think I've only painted 3 paintings since last summer, so she may wonder why I haven't improved.

When I got home from my walk, I switched out of my warm clothes and put on a t-shirt that we designed for my husband's Lakeside clients 10 years ago. (Our son was in the t-shirt screening business then.) It says:

Worker's Compensation
A Cottage at Lakeside

400 Pleasant surprises

A stranger knocked on the door yesterday afternoon to inquire about our paintings. She's decided that next year she'll come to the opening of the art show so she can purchase one from my husband. She also asked me for a reprint of my shuffleboard painting (my husband and kids in 1974) to give to her mother. The Cottage Assessories owner also knocked on the door and said she had a rush order for my gazebo cards because there were two weddings in the park, and that always sells that card design.

The "Perspective Drawing" class taught by my husband with the assistance of Bev who is a member of our Visual Arts Ministry at church was a big success. Again we were surprised when two different members of the class gave him gifts in appreciation. We printed up certificates in the morning and Bev wrote in their names. It will be offered again during the 8th week and I'll take it then. Angela, a neighbor, said she sees everything differently now. Pat says the class filled a hole in her art ability and is looking forward to better paintings. One woman actually extended her vacation so she could complete the class. He is a wonderful teacher, very kind and patient.

Bev started for home about 10 a.m. yesterday. I think we've made a Lakesider out of her. She's planning to come back in August and may teach her own bag of tricks. She is also bringing her parents who used to come here as young people.

Plans are moving along for next Saturday's "Client Appreciation Party" with gifts, food and displays just about in the finishing stages. We've hired the archivist down the street to be our musician. It will be at the Hotel Lakeside in one of the air conditioned dining rooms. We've only had about two really roaring hot days this summer, so we may not need the air.

399 A view of the two Americas

Consider these two statements, quotations that open the essay on “Two Americas” by Kim du Toit . He’s a pro-gun essayist, but this one on individualism vs. collectivism isn’t about guns, but basic values.

"In this country there are two Americas: one for the privileged who get everything they want, and one for everyone else who struggle for the things they need." -- Sen. John Edwards

Now this, earlier statement:

"There are two Americas -- and millions of the people already distinguish between them. One is the America of the imperialists -- of the little clique of capitalists, landlords, and militarists who are threatening and terrifying the world. This is the America the people of the world hate and fear. There is the other America -- the America of the workers and farmers and the 'little people'." -- James P. Cannon, to the 1948 convention of the Socialist Workers Party.

The two Americas, he says, is philosophical, not economic, because

“America is not divided into the "haves" and the "have-nots" -- at least, it's not a static condition. Anyone in America with a work ethic, application and a little luck can make it big, from humble beginnings. Edwards himself is the proof thereof. But it's not even that difficult to "make it" in America: almost anyone can get into the middle class with just a modicum of hard work -- which is why the American standard of living is higher than that of any other nation in the world. The division between the classes is both flexible and permeable.”

I'd been thinking about Edward's two Americas statement since reading contradictory statistics over at Tech Central Station by Arnold Kling in "How much worse off are we." . He pretty much dumps the whole idea of a "rich vs. poor" nation by showing that most "poor" people have and enjoy today what a small percentage of Americans had 30 years ago. In fact, if you can wade through the statistics the lower class is disappearing.

Then how will politicians use the envy card? Well, every one needs a 3 car garage and 4 cell phones, I suppose? Today about 75% of poor people in the USA have VCRs. Not that I think that is terrific considering the level of movies, but it does mean they also have electricity, and color TV and enough money to buy them and the accoutrements--no wonder poor people are willing to risk life, limb and family to come here.

In the 1960s when we were married college students, we had no car, no washer or dryer, no dishwasher, (microwaves weren't invented yet, but didn't have one until 1986). We lived in an apartment furnished with our own used furniture and we paid for our own medical insurance because in those days, employers didn't and government didn't. I don't know if food stamps were around in those days, but we would have been eligible. This would make us among the most poverty stricken households in 2004. But we weren't poor, we were young and moving up. But John Edwards, who was still in elementary school then, would have wanted us to be envious instead of self-reliant. Is it because that's how he became rich? No, he worked hard and grew up in a solid, middle class family--so why is he trying to play the envy card?

398 Plastic Nation

“Hi, I’m calling on behalf of Dippity do dah-express to let you know we have a plan for your credit card debt and can probably lower it to 1% interest.” I listened for a few more sentences (our lake house phone is not on a “do not call” list) until he asked me to press one and I realized this lovely, articulate voice was a recording. I was going to let him know in no uncertain terms that we have no credit card debt and have never had credit card debt.

Maybe al-Qaeda won’t bring us down, but plastic cards might. The column headline in the Wall Street Journal this morning was, “As cash fades, America becomes a plastic nation.” According to the article even a 17 year old trash hauler carries a cellphone with a card swiper to record his credit card customers. Speeders can give the cop their plastic, vending machines, subways and charities take plastic. Servicemen are issued plastic and their pay is added to the card. When we took an Alaskan cruise in 2001, all purchases on board were added to a special Princess Cruise credit card. Isn’t it all just too high tech and convenient?

It is so convenient, you get to pretend it isn’t real money. “Consumer debt is expected to hit $838 billion this year, an increase of 6.8% from 2003 and more than double what it was ten years ago.” Eventually, plastic will be phased out since it is really only the number that matters, and that can be linked to you in other ways, like biometrics. You could just as easily, as the technology improves, put yourself in debt with the blink of an eye or a swipe of your finger.

397 Thinking how John Edwards became a rich man

I’ve paid more attention to legal matters since I served on a jury two years ago. On the one hand, I was filled with pride to be part of such an amazing system with a long history, one which many in the world will never enjoy. On the other, I was appalled by the ignorance and malleability of some of my fellow citizen jurors. I’m not sure the wet noodles were balanced by the bullies, nor did we bond the way some juries did, who continue to meet for lunch and friendship according to the bulletin board in the jury selection room. With John Edwards in the spotlight and his specialty being suing doctors for malpractice, we’ll be hearing more about lawyers contributing to the drying up of medical services in many areas, and the rising cost of medical care.

Some awards do seem really strange. In the latest Columbus Bar Briefs (Summer 2004), both some small awards ($0.00) and large ($25,700,00) seem a bit odd. In one case a 20 year old woman was mistakenly given a blood transfusion for cosmetic surgery, to which she didn't need and had not signed a consent form other than what she had deposited. The blood donor was HIV positive. Becoming infected with HIV the old fashioned way is relatively difficult for women unless they are having oral or anal sex--but through a blood transfusion the virus is 100% effective in transmission. The jury awarded $4,000,000 for present damages and $8,000,000 for future damages, but then reduced it to $8,150,000 when it was determined that future medical care would be $150,000 not $4,000,000.

A man who was told to have elective surgery after a diagnosis of diverticulitis, ended up with a second surgery to repair a leak at the site of anastomosis, prolonged wound healing, development of multiple hernias and hernia surgery. He was suing for $1,200,000 for medical bills, future medical expenses, and economic losses. Considering the discomfort, pain and costs, I thought this was pretty low, but he got nothing after a 7 day trial.

Compare those medical malpractice suits with another case reported in the same issue; a 55 year old man relocated by his company sued for age discrimination and was awarded $25,000,000 in damages and $700,000 for emotional distress. Am I crazy to think that a woman who has to live in fear of a chronic and/or terminal disease should have a higher award than a man who is upset that he can’t earn $100,000 a year in Indiana instead of Ohio? Or that a man with an abdominal wound that doesn’t heal from surgery he probably didn’t need should have more than the guy who had to move to Gary, Indiana to keep his job?

Yes, a good lawyer is very important. Even in small potatoes cases, she/he gets 30%. So the awards aren’t as big as they look, for the plaintiff. (Although 30% of nothing is zero.) But there appear to be a few other kinks in the thread. With Edwards’ record, we’re sure to be learning more about how medical malpractice serves the profession. More than we ever wanted to know.

396 Linda, Whoopie and Elton

Some people are screaming "freedom of speech," and “it’s censorship.” That is nonsense. It is capitalism, period. These are paid performers hired by businesses to work for the company. If you cause people to NOT purchase the product, then you're not a good or valuable worker, no matter your color, age or sexual orientation.

Linda, who incorporated her politics into her act, apparently has done this before and then enjoyed the fights in the audience. This time, someone didn't buy her hustle. But what better or cheaper publicity could an aging, plump diva get--wow! The Janet Jackson of the menopausal set. If you’ve agreed to hawk Slim-Fast, don’t ask the buyers to swallow your politics. And Elton John, since when is he an expert on the U.S. Bill of Rights? Dr. Laura, an entertainer, got dumped by Clear Channel because she said gay couples shouldn't adopt infants. Her sponsors got heat from certain political groups and poof, she was gone.

Last week at Lakeside John McCutcheon sang some political and slightly off-color original ditties inappropriate for an audience that was about half Republican (who didn’t pay to be insulted) and maybe a fourth children. Although I'm sure it was cut way back from his regular performances. I would imagine the program arranger has heard about it from the people who left the auditorium. It’s a little different than turning the channel or clicking to off. You’ve paid to be there.

395 Man’s best friend has a problem--the man

Having worked in a veterinary medicine library for 14 years, I've seen more than my share of photos of dog bite injuries (usually young male dogs, owned by young adult males, biting male children--a pattern of out of control testosterone and risky behavior). The case cited below obviously was outside that when a father of 3, well educated, owned dangerous dogs known for breaking loose. And his lawyer will try to get the guy's license reinstated.

“A young doctor rarely home enough to care for his three Rottweilers was sentenced yesterday to six months in jail and fined $5,000 after admitting that two of his dogs attacked two women, killing one, last year.” Columbus Dispatch July 20, 2004

Franklin County Common Pleas Court: $252,500 for a dog bite causing injuries to the plaintiff's upper lip requiring plastic surgery in the future. The defendant was visiting the plaintiff and his dog was unprovoked. Case No. 01CVC-06-6093 (2003) reported in "Courthouse Beat", Columbus Bar Briefs, Summer 2004.

And then there are the dog owners who insist their dogs are “under control” running loose in our city and suburban parks. Hearings are pitting dog owners (not the brightest bulbs in the batch when under the influence of Fluffy, Muffy, and Moe) against other park users.

“[Dr. Aaron] Messer said an estimated 5,000 people in Columbus are bitten by dogs each year, a majority of which are children. Mark Young, assistant director of the city's Recreation and Parks Department, said many people call his department, concerned about unleashed dogs running around. [Includes details about barking, defecating, knocking down children, chasing bicyclers, attacking other dogs.] “ SNP Publications March 31, 2004

Even in our condo complex. Yesterday I heard my neighbor's Havanese (very small, dust-mop type dog) barking furiously. I looked out to see him on a leash in his owner's arms to protect him, just in case another neighbor's loose German Shepherd thought he was a snack. This is private property where city law doesn't require a leash--but common sense would be nice. Large dogs that may not bite a person can easily snap the neck of a smaller dog.

Top breeds for dog bite aggression are

Pit Bulls
Rottweilers
German Shepherds
Huskies
Doberman Pinschers
Chow Chows

But all dogs will bite.

Take a look--it's not pretty.

394 Do you know where your car is?

There’s an article today at American Spectator about EDRs--event data recorders, or “black boxes” that currently are installed in 15-20% of all cars and trucks in service, and most rental cars. Within a few years, as many as 90% of new cars will have this system tied to the GPS navigational computers already in many cars. With EDRs, motorists can be easily tracked to see if they are observing the law, and conceivably tickets could be issued when speeding is detected, although no policeman is near-by to observe it.

“The automakers are just as eager to keep tabs on us as the government -- in part to keep the shyster lawyers that have been so successfully digging into their deep pockets at bay. EDRs would provide irrefutable evidence of high-speed driving, for example, or make it impossible for a person injured in a crash to deny he wasn't wearing a seat belt.

Insurance companies will launch "safety" campaigns urging that "we use available technology" to identify "unsafe" drivers -- and who will be able to argue against that? . . . It's all for our own good.

But if you get edgy thinking about the government -- and our friends in corporate America -- being able to monitor where we go and how we go whenever they feel like checking in on us, take the time to write a "Thanks, but no thanks" letter to NHTSA at dms.dot.gov. The public comment period is open until August 2004.”

I suppose when you get out of the car and go into a store, the RFID can take over.

Full article here. Looks like a job for the American Library Association.

393 How do they do that?

There are greater issues to think about--the war, the election, why Blacks think they need to vote for Democrats, who in the world was better off in the 70s (a Kerry Edwards motif)--but today I am wondering how people live with remodeling and redecorating chaos.

The painters start today, doing two rooms, and the house is completely torn up because everything had to be moved. I'm writing in the dining room with all the equipment that was moveable on top of the dining room table, with the extra desk, toilet seat cover, light fixtures, and sink mirror gracing the living room. Fabric samples are dangling over the kitchen counter. Oh, how I wish we'd done this in 2002 before we moved in and painted everything but these two rooms. But they looked OK then. Really. OK, a little odd--the electric yellow guest room with the funeral style drapes, but I just closed the door. As months graduated to years, my office started looking darker, especially after I started blogging. When we purchased this place, it was the lightest, brightest room.

392 If it were your Mother, should he get to vote?

Now the Democats want ex-felons to vote. What a constituency! I'm wondering if this 30 year old thinks the murderer of his mother should have that right.

He was in the room asleep in a crib when his mother's boyfriend shot her. His father was in prison. So was a half-brother. His mother's two teen-age daughters, his half-sisters, were in foster care. The state of Ohio released his father on shock parole (he had created this new life after escaping for a brief period) to care for the baby, who was then most likely raised by a grandmother and his father's married daughter.

I haven't seen him since 1974--he waved bye-bye after we dropped him and his Dad off at grammy's. I like to think that maybe he had a better life than mom, dad, grandma and sibs. Maybe he finished high-school, I fantasize. Possibly went to junior college. Dad hadn't learned to read or write until he went to prison and a cell mate (white collar criminal) taught him. Mom was smart too, even if she was 3 bricks short of a load when it came to relationships. So I have this fantasy, that he's out there doing well, and like me, probably wondering why Democrats don't care about his mother's life. And how long before the "ex-" is removed from this push?

391 Art Show Opening

The Katharine Crampton Memorial Art Show opened last night here in Lakeside with a sneak preview at 5 p.m. Huge crowd. Because both of us had entered paintings, we had tickets. The featured artist this year is Neil Glaser, an architect who has a home in Lakeside. The poster artist is Chelsea Meyers, a college student who works at the Rhein Center for the Arts during the summer on the grounds. The show will run for 2 weeks and will be followed by a photography show. We both sold a painting (at least one of the three entries had to be for sale). We also bought a lovely small watercolor of East Harbor State Park shoreline by Neil, a scene I remembered from our very first visit to Lake Erie and Lakeside in 1974. I was so surprised to see a white sand beach with trees. We like to say we buy a painting for our anniversary (September 11), but often select one from this show.

We saw Sharon Borror, OWS, at the show. She will be here week after next to teach watercolor, and we own two of her paintings. She bought the "Best of Show" painting which was done by Chelsea.

Good friends Andy and Mary Frances drove over from Port Clinton where their sailboat is docked because he also entered three paintings (also sold one last night). After the opening we came back to the cottage and I popped a pizza in the oven, made a salad, and we had a nice evening on the deck, until a thunderstorm blew in and we moved to the porch.

The Cottage Assessories gift shop bought another 22 of my cards featuring scenes of Lakeside and the northcoast.

390 Blogger Test

Here's an interesting site to test your blogging personality.  Here's how I tested--although I think the number of questions is really too small to accurately gauge anything.

"Because of your desire for action and independance [sic], you will change the format of blogging or design frequently to keep it interesting and different. Your loyalty may have you reading the same blogs over a long period of time. Even though you could be easily bored with blogging, you might find that because you like following a project through, this is a good way for you to use your alone time to sort the facts you pick up through the day. "

I'm an ISTP.  Seems to be based on the Myers/Briggs.

389 The week's entertainment

Tonight’s entertainment was a walk along the lakefront and sitting on a park bench watching the sunset over a very active, white-capped Lake Erie. Wallpaper scenes of Lake Erie coast.

Last night was a wonderful group from the Chicago area, New Odyssey.  The 3 men, Gary Todd, Michael Jay, and Gary Polkow, performed almost every imaginable style and played 30 instruments. The drummer, Todd, did impersonations of Tina Turner and Elvis Presley. The audience loved this show, which was suitable for all ages.

Tuesday night was the Brass Band of Columbus which has been performing for 20 years. Many are OSU alumni and music educators. They performed a medley of service hymns with the veterans in the audience standing--always a time for moist eyes as the group grows smaller each year.

Monday night we took a cruise on Lake Erie with other Lakesiders and had a lovely buffet and enjoyed a leisurely trip about Put-in-Bay with a nice view of Perry’s Monument.

Sunday night was the Burchfield Brothers from Nashville who played some gospel, jazz and pop and entertained us with stories. Guitar and Mallet Kat were their instruments. The Mallet Kat is sort of an electronic marimba--played with mallets, but with unlimited sounds.

388 Collecting Thoughts before they're gone

On the way to the coffee shop this morning I was listening to NPR--from what city, I don't know. A young announcer who sounded like he had a mouth of mashed potatoes and an affected eastern accent was reading a story about road side trash in Ohio. If I heard him correctly, something like 12 million dollars are spent cleaning up the roadsides. (I can find nothing close to this figure using Google, but spent only a minute.) Then he went on to say an analysis of the trash revealed 1 million bottles of beer (beer bottles?). This led to an investigation of whether we need more roadside rest stops. Long pause. I think he was covering the microphone and laughing, because I really don't think that was in the story. It's probably a boring place to work and he wanted to liven things up.

I stopped at Wal-Mart on my way back to the cottage and bought a pair of Faded Glory jeans for my husband, 34 x 30. This brand seems to fit him best, and although his weight hasn't changed I think I was buying 33 x 30 two years ago. Probably should have looked for 34 x 29, but the odd leg size is hard to find in any brand. So you're thinking you won't patronize Wal-Mart because it hurts small towns? It buys foreign made? So you want to go to a large mall and pay $30 for jeans also foreign made?

On my way out of Wal-Mart, I met the owner of the small shop, Cottage Assessories where I sell my greeting cards, going in from the parking lot. She said business had picked up and she's about sold out, so I'll take in some more.

The other night at Hoover Auditorium (where the entertainment is) I heard a sound I don't think I'd heard in over 50 years. I really think someone in there had whooping cough. Then yesterday I noticed an article in the WSJ that the CDC is reporting a resurrgence of whooping cough, and may recommend booster shots. Then ABC covered the story today.

Next door is a big white, 19th century cottage with gingerbread trim and a wrap around porch with a porch swing and old rockers. It was probably built about 1885--the porch was probably replaced around 1920. On it most days was a four generation family who bring along friends and extended family. We watched the 3rd generation grow up, hang out, get married, and bring a new round of babies to that porch. We always wave as we walk by or chat a bit through the screens; sometimes in the evenings on our way back from Hoover we'd see them playing cards or board games.

I remember when we didn't have a phone here going next door to borrow theirs. They didn't have one either. Yesterday the Adelphia truck was parked between our houses. They've got cable now. Last night, there was no one on the porch. I could see the TV flickering in the living room.

387 How the media sees productivity gains

Over at Tech Central Station, Arnold Kling, on July 12 comments on rising productivity, noting that President Bush hasn’t taken the credit, nor should he, because it takes years for trends and policies to shake out.

“The most likely explanation for the faster productivity growth of recent years is the gradual diffusion and exploitation of computer technology . . . And [It is not usually news because] it takes years for changes in productivity trends to manifest themselves, one quarter's data release is not terribly significant.” And he makes a referral to Virginia Postrel who has written on "operations research."

The news is also ignored because it is positive, he concludes. “The media always prefer economic stories which show America going to hell in a handbasket. In the 1970's, we were supposedly running out of oil. In the 1980's, we were being beaten by Japan. More recently, the media have tried to make the outsourcing phenomenon carry the narrative for the story of gloom and despair. . . the current Administration is unpopular with the media. As much as the media is averse to reporting good news, I think that productivity would receive greater coverage if the big gains were taking place on a Democratic President's watch. The upbeat productivity data would "fit" the story of competent Democratic stewardship of the economy. But it would spoil the narrative of the Bush Administration as bumbling and Hoover-esque to point out that the most fundamental measure of our economic strength is shooting through the roof.”

The only two ads for Kerry I see here in Lakeside are on outsourcing jobs. Neither makes much sense, but they have a lot of appeal for blaming Bush for things he probably has no control over. Especially the ABB crowd.

386 Developing a reading plan for the education I didn't have

I'm currently reading a book recommended on Sherry's blog , The well-educated mind, a guide to the classical education you never had, by Susan Wise Bauer, about reading with a plan. She recommends that in having or developing a serious reading plan that one not look at e-mail first--or you'll never get around to it. Agreed. Turning on the computer is a huge time waster. She has other good advice.

1. Set a time for self-education.
2. Start short--30 minutes is better than 2 hours to begin.
3. Schedule 4 days instead of 7.
4. Guard your reading time--resist immediate gratification (good advice on any effort).
5. Start now--schedule 4 weekly reading periods of 30 minutes.

She recommends a method of reading that I’ve actually been using the last 5 years, but thought I was doing it because I can’t remember anything from day to day. She suggests keeping a notebook--sort of a commonplace book--including not only quotes, but summaries and original thoughts on what you’re reading.

I’ve discovered that the notebook and pencil (occasionally ball point) have to feel right too. Since I read early with my coffee at the coffee shop, I am also following her advice to read early rather than later in the day.

Two of my suspicions--that I read too slowly and that my vocabulary is weak--she shoots down as excuses not to read more difficult, deep titles. She includes a brief test which I passed with no trouble. Darn. I have no excuse, not even lack of time, since she wants you to start with 30 minutes a day.

Her list of “great books” is daunting, however. She suggests reading chronologically, regardless of topic, when reading for the well-educated mind. I’d like to skip Bunyun, Dostoevsky and Tolstoy, the only novelists on the list I’ve read.

Novels:
Don Quixote
Pilgrim’s Progress
Gulliver’s Travels
Pride and Prejudice
Oliver Twist
Jane Eyre
Scarlett Letter
Moby Dick (which she has attempted 7 times, I think)
Uncle Tom’s Cabin (I read the comic book)
Madame Bovary
Crime and Punishment
Anna Karenina
Return of the Native
Portrait of a lady
Huckleberry Finn
Red Badge of Courage
Heart of Darkness
House of Mirth
Great Gatsby
Mrs. Dalloway
The Trial
Native Son
The Stranger
1984
Invisible Man
Seize the day
One hundred years of solitude
If on a winter’s night a traveler
Song of Solomon (Morrison)
White Noise
Possession

And she wants them read in this order. “When you read chronologically, you reunite 2 fields that should never have been separated in the fir place: history and literature.”

Also, she doesn’t want you to read the preface unless the author has written it, so you form your own conclusions. Also, don’t read a critical or annotated edition for the same reason.

She promises to hold my hand through the whole thing. But I think I will be 85.

385 Do Libraries Have Obligations to the Rich?

I asked this question over at LISNews.com, but no one suggested a referral or a link. Are there any library documents out there on the responsibilities or obligations of librarians to serve the rich?

In this country, we have more rich than poor, and perhaps some of the rich can thank libraries (and probably do through endowments and certainly through their real estate taxes and help with bond issues) for their good fortune.

When I was at Ohio State, my library had the largest endowment of any of the dept. libraries. Before he died, no one knew the donor had money, and no one knew he had a soft spot for the veterinary library. So no one cultivated or recruited him--which was my good fortune, incidentally.

Just what are libraries' responsibilities to the rich, if they really are supposed to serve all? Wouldn't the poor be served best if the rich were well taken care of? And just who is rich and what is a luxury? Thirty years ago, I couldn't afford a microwave or a VCR. Rich people buying them soon made them affordable for me. The last microwave I bought was about $49 and the new VCR under $50.

Check out this fairy tale. It tells of a man who wished the rich would lose all their luxuries, and got his wish much to the disruption of his own life.

384 Friends of the Hotel Lakeside Sale

After taking my 3 paintings to the train station to check them in for the upcoming art show, I stopped at the sale in South Auditorium. Lakesiders donate their cast-offs and attic treasures for the sale--even turn around and then pay $5 for an early bird sticker to get in before the crowds to see what every one else has donated. The Friends use the proceeds to upgrade the rooms at the hotel, and many are quite lovely. The trinkets, trash and treasures are laid out on long tables--cookie tins, table lamps, Christmas decorations, 8-track tapes, old toasters, ancient microwaves, bedspreads faded with two-decade-old color schemes, black and white TVs, an occasional small computer, and hand-made crafts lovingly presented to the reluctant host.

There was a time when the cottages were full of the outdated and less than perfect--I know well, having been a renter for 13 years before purchasing a cottage. We would eat out a lot then because I was reluctant to use the kitchen utensils in some of the rental cottages. But now many of the cottages, even some rentals, could be photographed for Architectural Digest or Home.

When the Archives had its fund raising yard sale on Memorial Day, I noticed a coffee table size book on photographs of WWI. It was starting to rain and it was getting wet, but no one moved it. I think it was maybe $5.00. Yesterday I saw it in a local antique store for $45.00. So there are bargains to be had in these old cast-offs if you know what to look for.

My friends from art class, Elaine and Elaine, drove up for the day to drop off their paintings. We had a lovely lunch at the Abigail and then walked along the lake front back to the cottage. Elaine has been in the show before, but Elaine had never been here, and we had a good time showing her the 19th century cottages and the many homes my husband has improved as the local architect.

After Elaine and Elaine left, my husband's former partner, Andy, pulled in the drive-way. He has a sailboat parked over at Port Clinton. He'd just entered something in the show, and was stopping by before he drove to Marblehead to attend Mass.

Tonight's program is supposed to be really good--a Judy and Liza impersonator duo--and both are women!

383 Cutting labor costs through innovation

Not all jobs lost are outsourced overseas, Mr. Kerry (who seems a bit naive about this, in my opinion). Some become victims of innovation. At Meijer’s the other day I noticed carousels of plastic bags immediately behind the cashiers have taken the place of baggers, most of whom were either new immigrants who spoke little English, mentally or physically challenged, or retirees from other jobs. Most of the baggers have probably been put to work in other places in the store like stocking shelves if they have the skills to read and use small computers, but I know some have been let go. It will be hard for people with no communication skills to find other work.

There are also self-check out stalls in most stores now, (also in some libraries) but I don’t see that reducing labor costs much, since a staff person needs to be near by to assist, but it speeds things up for people with a few items. Barcodes--now 30 years old--put a lot of clerks into other jobs and moved customers through lines faster--saving billions a year for retailers in labor costs. And barcodes will probably be replaced by RFIDs.

382 Noted in passing at the Lake

On Rt. 4 just south of the intersection with Rt. 2, someone, a woman I hope, has a snazzy pickup truck. It is bright fuscia pink with a lavender hood and grill.

At the coffee shop, the deli-mail continues as two customers leave notes for each other on the receipts and attach to a paper cup:

“Your girl friend will have to let you out more & earlier.”

“She don’t send me out after milk and bread anymore.”

We’ve moved the cedar chest out of the bedroom on to the porch, thanks to a neighbor’s help. He will get the wooden box we had in that spot for his grandchildren’s toys. Both came with the house--as did the helpful neighbor--when we bought it in 1988. I estimate the cedar chest is from the 1920s or 1930s, but the box may be much older. The previous owner covered it with contact paper, and restoring the box looked like too much work to me. We’re trying to make room for both of us to be able to paint without tying up the kitchen table. 750 sq. ft. is not a large house.

John McCutcheon performed his popular and up-dated folk singing and humor. He was born in Wisconsin, educated in Minnesota and now lives in Virginia. He tells funny stories--and he is often the butt of the joke. He played banjo, guitar, dulcimer and for an encore, played his body by slapping. Some of his songs are pointed and political--although he was careful, it being Lakeside. I did see a few people get up and leave after his nasty Ashcroft song, but some loved it. I did manage to stay for the entire performance.

381 The Little People

Michelle Malkin has an article revealing the names of some of the big donors to the Democratic war chest for Kerry's campaign in her July 7 column. I don't have a problem with people contributing to the party of their choice, but I have wondered why the Democrats claim to be the party of the little people. We have two rich, white guys, graduates of Yale, running for President. They are both raising an obscene amount of money so they can be President of the richest country in the world.

A very tiny percentage of Americans are really rich, and very few are desperately poor. We're changing quintiles again. We were in the bottom 20% in the early 1960s, along with most students living in apartments on the fringes of the University of Illinois. Then we rose to the top during our peak earning years, as a librarian and an architect with grown children (DINKS), and will be settling comfortably at the bottom next year. I don't want any candidate making appalling ignorant remarks or feeling sorry for me.

380 Totally decadent

I picked up a recipe insert from the Peninsula News. It had the usual high calorie, high fat summer grill stuff--Easy Peasy Potato Wedges, Sweet Baby Ribs, Pumpkin Fluff Dip, and so on. But this one really set my teeth on edge and answered for all time, why Americans are so overweight:

Plastic Bag Fudge
1/3 cup semi-sweet cocoa
3 oz. cream cheese
1 lb. powdered sugar
1/4 cup margarine
1/2 tsp. vanilla
1. Place all ingredients in gallon-sized zipper plastic bag.
2. Squish ingredients until well mixed. As ingredients mix together, fudge will set up to a stiff icing texture.
3. Pass bag around with spoons and eat.

379 Excellent programs

In 1893, my grandmother went to the World’s Fair in Chicago with her parents. According to what I learned last night at Hoover Auditorium in Lakeside, “rag time” which had been around for many years, first was called that during the World's Fair for having a “ragged” time. I doubt that Grandfather David let his 17 year old daughter near any performers playing the devil’s music.

The program last night was Bob Milne, a piano player of rag time, boogie woogie and southern gospel. He played a solid two hours, and received wildly enthusiastic applause. He only paused long enough to provide the audience some history and a few jokes. It seems that two weeks ago he played for a private party in their home in Kennebunkport, named George and Barbara. And in a few weeks, he’ll be meeting for the first time another pianist, Clint Eastwood, and they’ll play some duets.

On Saturday evening a group I’d never heard of 1910 Fruitgum Factory performed. I must have been too busy raising babies, because they were popular in the late 1960s and I didn’t remember any of their “hits.” But many of the boomers in the audience did, and when the lead singer suggested there was room up front or in the aisles to dance, about a hundred people, adults and little kids, went forward to groove and swing. It was fun to see them having such a good time--whole families dancing together, little children on their dad’s shoulders, and grandmas rocking and bopping, showing the grandkids how they did it in the 60s.

On Friday evening we had a Beatles imitator group, called Back Beat a Tribute. John, Paul, George and Ringo. This is a very popular program (although doesn‘t bring in as many as the Elvis imitator), again with the boomers. They did put on a solid 3 hour show with no intermission (I only lasted about 15 minutes). What I remember about the Beatles is how shocked and horrified parents were with their hair and music, and am always surprised at how tame they seem now.

378 Helpful neighbor

My neighbor set me up with a password so I can use my wireless card with his router. I might look a bit odd sitting on the back porch straddling a bench, but you have to go with what is easy. I could sit on the front porch, but the connection is weaker. Then I tried webmail and was able to both send and receive e-mail. Before, I was receiving but not sending. My Collecting My Thoughts doesn't seem to be working well, and many times I can't load it.

378 Thoughts on July 4

The first thing you notice about these workers is that they are young and in good physical condition; the second is that they speak to each other in another language. They are Slovakian students here on the peninsula on special visas that allow them to work during the summer at jobs that used to be filled by American college students.

Because I leave the grounds of Lakeside early in the morning to get coffee, I sometimes pass bicyclists in the dim dawn light. Several years ago when I noticed this I thought maybe they were athletes out preparing for a summer race. But it was just the Slovakian students on their way to work in the tourist industry--restaurants, motels, entertainment sites. They rent a cottage or two, buy some bikes and don’t seem to mind a 20 or 30 minute ride to work each day at dawn and sunset. Very few American youngsters would attempt this--it is a narrow, busy highway, and besides, it requires some athletic skill to ride a bike to work and then put in a full shift on your feet serving others.

Today I was a bit early, so I stopped at McDonald’s instead of Bassett’s where the coffee shop doesn’t open until 6:30. I heard the kitchen help speaking loudly to one of the counter people with many gestures. At first I thought she might be hearing impaired, but then realized that she was foreign, and the Americans were simply speaking loudly, instead of clearly. Then I heard her and 2 other counter staff speaking a Slavic language, and since we have Slovakians working in Lakeside, I assumed these young women were also from Slovakia. When I got a refill, I noticed their name tags--Maria, Petra, and Martina. Martina, who probably had the best English, took the orders at the window drive-thru and Maria and Petra filled the sacks. Soon three tall, slender young men arrived, perspiring heavily, wearing shorts and back packs, and walked behind the counter to the back room and reappeared wearing uniforms--they were working the kitchen.

As I got up to leave I spoke to one of the assistant managers and asked her if they were Slovakian students here on a work visa. She said yes, and she wished they had more of them. She also told me that the 3 women also worked at Lakeside in the evening, and that at least one of the young men had 4 jobs. I asked her about transportation, and she said sometimes they pooled their money and bought a car and shared it for the summer, but usually rode bikes and shared housing. I asked her some other questions about the visas, to which she claimed no knowledge, but I think she was beginning to be suspicious that I was checking up on them, and she didn’t want to lose her workers.

These handsome, athletic 20-somethings aren’t immigrants, they’re “guest workers” as the Europeans might say, but they aren’t afraid to work, and even at minimum wage jobs find housing, transportation and ways to get around language barriers. Here on the peninsula they are cleaning hotel rooms, tending yards and gardens, serving food and clerking. They certainly look more fit and happier to be working than American young people.

Paychecks were passed out while I was there, and I heard a supervisor calling out the names. The Americans just tucked theirs in a shirt or purse. The Slovakians held the pay sheet in both hands reading every entry carefully before putting it away. They looked like they were opening Christmas gifts. On this July 4 they are a good reminder to the rest of us that this country still offers a lot of opportunity for those seeking it.

377 Beach Reading for the lake

I don’t know why my “beach reading” ends up being such heavy stuff--like “John Adams” which I read during summer of 2002 and “First Mothers” last summer. The book I brought to the lake this summer is “Locust; the devastating rise and mysterious disappearance of the insect that shaped the American frontier.” by Jeffrey A. Lockwood, professor of Natural Sciences and Humanities at the University of Wyoming. He brings together the climatological, economic, religious and political forces at work in 19th century America when the plagues of locust struck. I didn’t think anyone grieved the loss of the locust (I’ve never forgotten Laura Ingalls Wilder’s story about the locust swarms in the Little House series), but Lockwood does, and thinks when billions of creatures disappear almost overnight, we are all the losers. So I was reading “Locust” everyday as the Mayflies pelted the screens wondering if I'd miss them if they disappeared.

When we arrived on Saturday for the first week of the season, the cars, streets, houses and screens were covered with Mayflies. They are attracted to the lights and under every pole is a crunchy slimy mess, with an odd odor. Some years the Mayflies are so thick they get drawn into generators and equipment and cause power failures. Mayflies lay their eggs (8,000 per female) on the water. They sink to the bottom and when they hatch into nymphs they burrow into the sediment and feed on particulates. They go through 20 or 30 molts and finally are ready for a final day, after a 2 year existence of getting ready for sex and us, the folks on land who really don’t like them much. After some inflight mating, they lay eggs and die.

According to an article by our neighbor, Joe Day, in this week’s Lakesider, the Mayflies arrived here because of the early European settlement which disturbed the ecological balance of the lake region with agriculture, but then they were killed off in the mid 20th century when oxygen levels in the lake fell too low to sustain the nymphs. When better water quality standards were enforced and sewage and chemicals were no longer dumped into Lake Erie, the Mayflies returned. The return of the Mayfly benefit the fisherman (perch eat them) and the birds.

Joe writes, “Looking up into the evening sky and seeing the amazing numbers of little fair-like mayflies in their reproductive dance-like ceremony leaves me in the quiet reflection of a humble soul in a wonderful town of this truly incredible world. Fly on little fellas.”

Lockwood writes, “As our current environmental crisis exposes our past act of destruction--and as it threatens human populations squeezed into our favored habitats of seaboards, riverbanks, and desert margins--one can only wonder what else we might learn from the Rocky Mountain Locust. . . Along with hurricanes and drought, such creatures serve to remind the industrial world that humility is still necessary.”

376 Slower than e-mail, faster than land mail

At the coffee shop here on the peninsula, I noticed a note written on the back of a sales receipt, propped up against an upside down Pepsi paper cup, with a little fuzzy bird attached to it. The note read:

“I’m reinstated and my new card is good no matter what excuses I use.”

I asked the staff person if someone had left it by mistake. “Oh no,” she said, “two gentlemen who come in at different times leave notes for each other there.”

375 Bumper stickers

I was driving behind an automobile--smallish, with some age--plastered with sayings and proverbs. Perhaps to cover up budding rust spots.

“Bring back Monica Lewinsky”

“Thank you for not breeding.”

“Stupidity need not be painful.”

And a Happy face with a finger in its nose.

Sort of makes me wonder what the guy’s T-shirt says.

374 Wednesday at the Lake

Many more people in the Confucian Ethics class--word is getting around what an outstanding instructor Gene is. Everyone says, "I wish I'd had college instuctors like this!"

He told about how Chinese children are taught to observe the roles by learning music, poetry and calligraphy. You write poetry to prepare for life's major decisions. "He is the best poet in the group," is a sign of who is leader (he may not be a good poet, but receives that honor). The more poetry, the more sophisticated the speech. Calligraphy is taught as character formation. Music and art are ad-ons in our society, and may be the first to be cut.

I've been reading "Locust," all week and have been taking it to the hotel porch and to the coffee shop to read. I'm determined to finish it and find out why the locust swarms, the scourge of the 19th century farmers, disappeared. The author tells many asides, from how he did his research, to the biographies of different entomologists, to environmental disasters stories, but I'm sure he'll reveal his thinking before the final page.

373 Tuesday at the Lake

Last night we had Wes and Sue over for supper on the deck. They are clients and have the cutest little cottage, just perfect for Lakeside. It is getting a lot of buzz because its style and size are just right for the tiny lots (33') we have in this old community with narrow streets and ancient trees.

We're enjoying a class on Confucian Ethics taught by Dr. Gene Swanger of Wittenberg University. Everyday the class grows larger instead of smaller as is usual in Lakeside. Dr. Swanger teaches American government officials and the military how to interact and live in an Asian environment. We learned there are 3,300 roles for behavior, and no real concept of "individualism" as we understand it in the West.

Art class is shrinking. Today we did figures, and I gave my drawing to the 15 year old model since he was so patient, and he liked it.

372 Monday at the Lake

The day started with a small rain squall, built to a big storm in early afternoon, cleared, thenn we had a big windy wet storm about 4 p.m., but I was already at the art center. The drawing class is a mix of adults and children, and as usual, the kids get pretty discouraged and end up drawing lighthouses or boats instead of the assigned task, which this day was a still life of old blenders, a fan and lunch box.

Last night's program was organist Paul Oakley. Such a beautiful program. We enjoyed him so about 10 years ago when he organized a "Masterclass" of musicians at Lakeside. We found the four chairs we had paid for and they have the names of our family on a plate in the back. These chairs are much nicer and more comfortable than the hard wooden ones.

371 At Lakeside

The perfect summer day at the Lake--clear blue sky and 72 degrees. Golf carts are becoming more ubiquitous each year, with corresponding restrictions on auto parking, but at least more are battery operated now, thus quieter.

The volunteers have been busy sprucing up the flower gardens. The Hoover Auditorium is 75 years old this summer, and they've really been working hard there. Our impatiens are blooming, but were sort of leggy when planted in May and have stayed that way rather than filling out.

A stroll through the business district (2 blocks) shows some changes. One of the antique dealers gave up because he got such a good offer for his building, and his wife needed to spend more time with her mother and couldn't mind the store. A delightful gift/art shop has been returned to a cottage "for rent." The realty firm on the corner has left that building and it is being remodeled into something that looks like a cottage, but the sign says coffee shop. The cokesbury Bookstore opened two weeks ago for the Methodists' conferences.

Tonight's program is the River City Brass Band from Pennsylvania. I love brass. Hope there is a lot of trombone, my weapon of choice.

370 This is not about Lustrons

You’ve probably seen a Lustron--a steel house of porcelainzed panels built in the late 1940s to help solve the housing shortage after World War II. Here’s a brief story from the Ohio Historical Society web site:

“At the end of the war, a severe housing shortage plagued the United States. Businessman Carl Strandlund sought to solve this problem by mass-producing prefabricated, porcelain-enameled, steel houses. With the support of veterans groups, he received millions of dollars in federal loans to establish his factory, which he modeled after General Motors and Ford. The new Lustron Corporation leased the abandoned Curtiss-Wright factory adjacent to the Port Columbus airport. The government also allocated the new firm a generous supply of rationed steel for its enterprise.”

There have been reunions in Columbus, Ohio, of the designers, builders and owners of Lustrons, and I usually get an invitation because my grandparents built a Lustron in 1949, and for awhile I was part of a listserv concerning Lustrons after my Dad purchased that same home fifty years later, and we needed to do some repairs for him. My home town in Illinois has close to 20 Lustrons and it is a very small town. Pink, blue, yellow and tan--just hose ‘em down when they get dirty.

However, this is not a blog about Lustrons, it is about the WWII housing shortage. All my life I’ve been hearing about housing shortages after the war. I never even questioned it. We had a bit of one ourselves when the people who had been renting our house while Dad was in the service wouldn’t move when we came home, and we had to live with my grandparents.

I’ve been reading Thomas Sowell’s book, Basic Economics (rev. 2004). He says that after WWII, there was no scarcity of housing--severe or otherwise. He says scarcity is when a tornado or earthquake destroys housing, but shortage is created by prices. The ratio between housing and people had not changed (from 1941 to 1945), so there was no greater lack of housing. What had changed was artificially low rents due to rent controls during the war. When rents were low, some people rented larger spaces than they needed, and some landlords took properties off the market because they couldn’t cover maintenance costs and make a profit. So there were just as many housing units, but many people looking for places to live at prices they could afford. He said in different decades, the same thing has happened in Sweden and Australia--the more rent control laws, the more housing shortage.

New York City, says Sowell, has had rent control longer than any other American city with the consequence that turnover of apartments there is less than half the national average and it contributes to homelessness, because the small guys who might have housing the poor could afford, are pushed out of the market. People are sleeping outdoors, while buildings stand empty. Very wealthy people keep their rent controlled apartments just because they can, but don’t live there. San Francisco also has rent control, which drives up the cost of living there for everyone.

Also, when price controls on meat were ended in 1946, all of a sudden there was enough meat for everyone because it killed the black market. He also says there was no gasoline shortage in the 1970s. Price controls led to a cutback on the hours that filling stations remained open, so they could stay open for a few hours a day instead of having the costs of being open 12 or 24 hours, and make the same profit.

I never knew that about Lustrons. The government created the shortage, and then supplied the loans to relieve the shortage. I never knew there really wasn’t a housing shortage (less housing) after WWII. I’ll have to think about that and try to undo a lifetime of indoctrination.

369 Low Carb Hysteria

Partnership for Essential Nutrition is a group of non-profits concerned with health and nutrition that hope to bring some common sense to this low-carb stuff. I have no idea if it is legit, or just another “follow the money” group getting funded by the food industry.

I’m now getting a low-carb biz newsletter because I asked for their premiere issue of their print publication, and I’ve been surprised by the push and rush to low carb. Especially I’m surprised at how bad the commercially prepared low-carb foods taste. Panera’s is putting out two low carb bagels for samples in the morning, and I’ve tried them both. The asagio cheese bagel is my all time favorite, but low carb, it tastes like library paste. The result of eating low-carb food is the same as eating fat-free--taste free and leaves a craving which will in turn cause many people to eat more. I purchased a loaf of low-carb bread, and threw it away after we ate some. I bought low-carb yogurt for my husband, and he said, “Tastes like your foot’s asleep.”

There’s only one way to lose weight, and it always works, and it works for anyone. Burn more calories than you consume, and that means Eat Less, Move More. ELMM. But there is no way to market it and it does require some motivation and will power.

368 The job jar dwindles--pt. 3, Getting ready for the painter

I adore my son-in-law. After I handed my husband the list of 14 major in-house moves necessary before the painter comes, tastefully illustrated with clip art of a painter putting paint on the wall, he called Mark. He is very strong, cheerful, and formerly worked for a moving company. He knows every trick in the book. And I get a big sweaty hug when he is finished. Major moves so the painter could get to the walls included the desk, on which resided 2 printers, 2 speakers, a router and a scanner, as well as all the computer stuff; 2 large dressers and a dressing table; miscellaneous framed pictures; a double bed; a bookcase full of photo albums; an exercycle and an aerobo-something (like a rowing machine); and all the stuff that resided under the double bed--including the porta-crib.

I had forgotten the porta-crib and my decision to stop grieving about not ever being a grandmother, but there it was: 37 years old and waiting like an abandoned puppy, reminding me about why I'd saved it all these years. It's in the garage now, and it is a toss up whether it will go to a garage sale or the trash pick-up. No one uses wooden portable cribs anymore, and you probably can't find a mattress for one. They fit beautifully in the back seat of a sedan, with two legs on the floor, but it is illegal to let a cranky baby sleep like that without being strapped in sitting up the way we did in the 60s.

I suppose you could restrain a dog in one of these, but even my grand-puppy is an 18 year old chihuahua.

367 Noted in the language

What's with the words "her then," as "She came to this country with her then husband in 1987." What ever happened to "former" or simply, ex? I see this frequently.

I saw an ad today asking for "hysterecotmized women."

Joe Blundo says that if Clinton were Abraham Lincoln, the Gettysburg Address would have been longer than the battle.

There was a huge crowd in town yesterday to hear Zig Ziglar, Jessica Lynch, Jim Tressel and Rudy Guiliani. Outside the event there was a man holding up a sign, "College grad--will work for $40,000." Must not be a librarian--they'll work for much less.

I saw cookie recipes from Laura Bush and Teresa Kerry last week. Surely, we can get beyond that. However, Ms. Heinz-Kerry's did look awfully good--Pumpkin Spice Cookies.

Dow Jones, the owner of the Wall Street Journal was having a labor dispute with the union that represents its reporters last week. They wrote for the paper, but without a by-line. I don't get it.

The black-out last summer that affected northern Ohio, Michigan and many eastern states, caused cleaner air. It sharply reduced the concentrations of ozone and sulfur dioxide. Maybe we could just shut everything down for a week every August and forget all the rules and regulations, if it is that easy.

The Friendship

We've been friends for over 30 years, having met in a women's Bible study group. Early on, we learned we shared a very important quirk--we'd drop everything when the other called and "go for coffee." We'd dump everything on each other that we figured our husbands didn't want to hear.

Although our age difference isn't significant--particularly at our current ages--her parents were about 20 years older than mine. I listened carefully as she worked her way through the "sandwich" generation stage. I was well prepared for what was to come. Although my parents lived to an older age than hers, I learned a lot by what happened to my friend. The same with schools and our children. I learned from her about negotiating nursery schools, elementary teachers, high school cliques, and college sororities--it was really comforting to have a pathfinder as a friend.

She also moved in different social circles. Actually, I hardly moved at all, truth be known, and really didn't care that much. I'd always liked having one or two really close friends. She cared deeply about social position and status in the community. So I listened and learned--about fashion trends, popular themes in home decor, and investment ideas--even technology. The very first VCR I ever saw was in her home. ("What would you do with it?" I whispered.) She belongs to an investment club, her college sorority alumnae group, and several women's clubs, one of which is over 100 years old. She's traveled more than I can even dream about--China, Russia, Europe, South America. When her children have had jobs in interesting cities like New York, DC, Seattle, Denver, San Francisco and Knoxville, I've listened patiently all these many years about her visits and their activities. Perhaps I was just a bit smug that my own daughter works two miles from here and can stop by for lunch. She's had season tickets for the various musical and sporting events around the city, so I keep up on what's going on around town--by listening, but not sharing in the seats.

However, there was a tiny crack developing, and as I look back I think it is because of our positions within our original families. I am the third of four siblings and am accustomed to jostling for attention and space, to arguing, to "kiss and make-up" discussions. She is an only child. This means she has a sense of entitlement that is totally foreign to me. Eldest children in larger families have this too--it is not confined to "onlies." They are completely unaware of their behavior, and will deny it if you point it out. So this meant that if she decided against discussing a topic, that was it. Done deal. Finished. Sometimes I wouldn't catch on--I'd continue rambling on, and then she'd say louder and more firmly, like a school teacher talking down to a child, "We're not going to argue about this any further, Norma." I was usually caught short since I hadn't been aware we were arguing. She had her opinion; I had mine. Or that's what I thought. I let it slide--just let her be "boss," because I enjoyed her company, she was well-read, intelligent, and cared about many of things I cared about.

After about 25 years of being the "little sister" to a woman who never had a sister, I began to rebel in the only way I knew how. I stopped calling. The alpha-female usually doesn't do the calling, so the effect of this was we saw a lot less of each other. Instead of getting together once or twice a week, we get together several times a year. We're doing lunch today and I'll listen and nod and smile--I can turn off my mouth for 30-40 minutes, especially when it is filled with food. I'll feel sad because I really miss her. And for the first time in 30 years, I had to look up her phone number.

366 What Librarians do when they get together

The American Library Association (ALA) claims it represents 64,000 members, many of them librarians, but as the name implies, it isn’t an association of librarians, but of libraries. What it really needs is a taxpayers’ action group, TAG (not TAGS, which is an ALA group to teach teen-agers how to be political activists), to put its bloated bureaucracy that lives on alphabet soup on a diet.

I never joined ALA, because even in 1966, it was beyond the pale for me, then a liberal Democrat. Soon they, or it, will be meeting in Orlando, Florida, world of fantasy and make believe, where librarians will meet to pretend that our society will some day pay them what they are worth if they make everyone else's business their own.

I shouldn't poke fun. Disney World is lots of fun, even for librarians. So therefore it is appropriate that . . .

“Fahrenheit 9/11 will be shown at ALA in the Auditorium at the Convention Center, Sunday night, June 27, at 10 pm, two days after it opens nationwide. There will be a $10 donation that will go to ALA's efforts in the areas of the First Amendment, Intellectual Freedom, and the struggle against the USA PATRIOT Act.”

Also, the GODORT (government documents) folks will be fussing about access to government information considering current security concerns, and

The Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgendered people will be protecting and pushing gay books for children and

The AILA (American Indian) will be honoring their elders and tracing their roots and

CALA (Chinese American) is establishing sister relationships with libraries in China, Australia, and other countries, but seem to only be a support group organized by ethnicity, and

SRRT (Social Responsibilities) is supposed to working to make ALA more democratic, but that is a huge joke because they are so left wing democracy is an endangered species needing protection and should be on the environmentalism sub-committee, and

The Ethics Committee, which says it distinguishes between personal convictions and professional responsibilities, has a special sub-group (its only sub-group) on Ethnic and Multicultural Information that has an extremely long set of by-laws and list of committees, but no accomplishments listed and

The Literacy group, which has an expanded vision for library users which includes technology and information needs as well as reading, has a web site that doesn’t work, and

ANSS (I wonder how they pronounce that) is the Anthropology and Sociology Section which seems to be doing library stuff like bibliographies and indexing rather than lobbying about social issues, as the name might suggest, and

The Black Caucus is all caught up in the Brown issues.

365 Dump and Run Sale

Ton of cast offs--that's what OSU students have left in 25 dormitories. To keep it out of landfills and to raise money for several charities, volunteers are gathering the junk into bins for recycling and sales.

There is enough clothing to fill a Good Will store, including a size 40DD bra with the tags still on it, according to the Columbus Dispatch June 18. There are similar sales at other colleges.

I wonder if parents know how much of the "gotta have this" stuff ends up sold for junk or charity? Whatever. It is still a good plan and I'm glad to see the young volunteers taking this seriously.

364 A tribute to a mentor

I certainly didn’t become a librarian because of Miss Coblentz. When I first met her, she seemed rather stoney-faced, mousey and plain, with an unattractive voice and demeanor. I have no idea how old she was--I turned 18 that fall, so anyone over 30 appeared up in years. But she was definitely older than my rather elderly, 45-year old parents, who were so ancient they could remember the bells tolling at the end of World War I!

My first job in the Manchester College Library was something she considered very important--shelf reading. She believed tidy, well-placed books helped my fellow students find what they needed. Imagine that! I think the job included dusting. From shelving tasks which gave me a sense of subject arrangement, I moved “up” to helping at the circulation desk, something I‘d learned in the public library of my home town, and from there I received the rather favored job of helping in Miss Coblentz’s office writing classification numbers on books with a stylus and sheet of white marking paper. I may be one of the select few in the world who can appreciate and understand the Cutter system, and with effort, I can still do a pretty good imitation of a well-placed Dewey number.

This technical services student job provided an opportunity to take an occasional trip to the bindery, and also an opportunity to meet and know the other “adult” staff. I was invited to Miss Coblentz’s home, which was a wonderful, large gracious early 20th century home on North Wayne within walking distance of the campus. Miss Coblentz had holiday teas for her student staff--and being typical teen-agers who never had enough to eat, we really loved that. Over time, I came to see her kindness, scholarship and skill--and even if I didn’t appreciate it when I was 18, I certainly do now because isn‘t hindsight 20/20?

Memorable moments with Miss Coblentz. My boyfriend was attending the University of Illinois (where I transferred and graduated). I decided I wanted to send him a package of Rice Krispies squares--the kind made with rice cereal, butter, and melted marshmallows mixed in a very large bowl. My roommate, Jo-Ella, and I were pretty good about building a stash of the small containers of cereal, but managing the rest of the task was beyond what we could do in our dorm room with a hot plate. Miss Coblentz to the rescue. She let me use her kitchen and utensils to create this magnificent treat for the boyfriend of her silly employee. She even attempted to teach me to needlepoint--something that gave her much pleasure and covered her dining room chair seats, but I never had the patience or interest (still don’t).

After I left Manchester at the end of my freshman year, we corresponded on holidays, and I sent her an invitation to my wedding, notice of my graduation later, and the birth of my first child. My memory is fuzzy here, but I think she knew I went back for my MLS later and became a librarian. She probably thought she had a hand in that career choice. Imagine that.

Update: I contacted the current librarian, Robin J. Grantz, who wrote:

"In my own 15 years as library director at MC, I’ve come to admire all the things she accomplished. Chief among them was her wonderful planning for this 1966 building, which we renovated in 1999. So many things were done well in the original plan, and I’m sure she never received the credit she deserved. I’m passing your blog on to the library staff, who continue to supervise a wonderful group of student assistants.

Ruth Coblentz (Manchester BA ’27), came as “Chief Librarian” in 1945. She served until 1970, all of the years in that position, except for 1957 and the last year, when she was cataloging librarian. She died in 1994."

(Note: if you google “Ruth Coblentz” you’ll find that she had a mentor at Manchester who influenced her and many others to become librarians.)

363 Abu Ghraib prison video

Abu Ghraib prison video was shown for the benefit of journalists by the American Enterprise Institute, but most didn’t take advantage of the opportunity and those who did got ill and had to leave. Of course, it was video of when Saddam Hussein's thugs ruled the prison and limbs and tongues and fingers were being chopped off.

Why does the press harp on American abuses and ignore Saddam's? Deborah Orin, a reporter who did attend the showing quotes AEI's Michael Ledeen as saying it's because most journalists "want Bush to lose."
Reported by James Taranto at Best of the Web.

362 The big book shift--pt. 2, Getting ready for the painter

Today I set up temporary shelving in my garage so my office can be painted sometime in July. I had a minimum of 30 ft of books to relocate, and another 12 ft of miscellaneous (photos, collectibles, audio gear, TV, paper supplies, and magazines). I figured I had about 26 ft of useable space in the garage, by clearing counter tops of garden tools, empty boxes, kitty litter, etc. and setting up folding chairs to hold 10 ft of boards. However, by using my Illios (yearbooks from the University of Illinois) and a board, I was able to create extra shelving and fit all the books on top of the counter and didn't need the chairs. I cleared out one lower cabinet for magazines.

I found many interesting things that caused me to stop my work and sit down, which is good, because with A-fib, the heart rate goes crazy with lifting and changing positions.

A letter from my sister Carol written for my 16th birthday when she was 18 and in Brethren Volunteer Service training in Maryland.

A really interesting book by Luther Mott on American best-selling authors, including an item about Harold Bell Wright, whose book That Printer of Udell's, influenced Ronald Reagan.

A really wonderful article on the name of Jesus as " The Lamb" which will really help in the dedication of our two new paintings purchased for church.

Various certificates of perfect attendance.

A lot of outdated financial stuff I'll need to work through.

A package of ink cartridges for my HP 5550 that I'd forgotten I had.

Having lived for 34 years in a house with no attic or basement, I learned how to weed, winnow and remove anything not needed. But once we moved here, with lots of built in storage for books and an attic over the garage, I just lost all that good training.

My daughter is having a garage sale this coming week-end, and maybe I can find a home for 40 yards of drapery fabric.

361 Mixed metaphor

"We had hybrid cabbage, but cauliflower is a different kettle of fish," said Dickson, who retired in 1995. "If you don't have the right parents, you don't necessarily get a nice color, you get a pale, pukey color." Story here.

360 How it played out in 1957

Erin Moriarity of CBS News is the graduation speaker for 7,000+ graduates at The Ohio State University today. In 1957, Ronald Reagan spoke to the graduates of Eureka College in Illinois. I reviewed that speech today and was amazed at how "right on" he was, even then. In 1957, I don't think anyone thought he was too special--sure, he was a graduate who had made good, but his movie career was over and he was a spokesman for General Electric Theater on TV. He reminded the class of 1957 that when he was a student there in the Depression, the teachers often went without pay, and most of the students were poor. And even in 1957, he sounded like the President he became:

Now today as you prepare to leave your Alma Mater, you go into a world in which, due to our carelessness and apathy, a great many of our freedoms have been lost. It isn't that an outside enemy has taken them. It's just that there is something inherent in government which makes it, when it isn't controlled, continue to grow. So today for every seven of us sitting here in this lovely outdoor theater, there is one public servant, and 31 cents of every dollar earned in America goes in taxes. To support the multitudinous and gigantic functions of government, taxation is levied which tends to dry up the very sources of contributions and donations to colleges like Eureka. So in this time of prosperity we find these church schools, these small independent colleges and even the larger universities, hard put to maintain themselves and to continue doing the job they have done so unselfishly and well for all these years. Observe the contrast between these small church colleges and our government, because, as I have said before, these have always given far more than was ever given to them in return.

359 Saturday clean-up--pt.1 Getting ready for the painter

When painters paint, they need to be able to get to the walls, ceilings and closets. This means emptying a room. So today I've been trying to find spaces to store the contents of the guest room. I just can't believe that after three years I am still debating about what to do with the gay guys drapes! They had wonderful, expensive, Architectural Digest taste. I'm sure it would look great in a Budapest Hotel (I heard they won an award for that one), but we are beige people, with touches of taupe or cream. Feeling wild or crazy, I might add a touch of moss green or French blue.

And then there are the shirts I'm hiding from my husband which should have made the trip out the door in the Kidney Foundation sack some time ago. I selected three as work shirts and took them to his office. "See these," I said. "They are either worn out, ugly as sin, or they make you look dead." "Oh no," he exclaimed, "my favorites." "So don't you dare drag them back upstairs," I warned.

I had an empty shelf (top) in my closet which I can't comfortably reach. I climbed up--Whew! Really dusty. So I cleaned that off and am stashing the new Martha Stewart bedding (for the after-the-painter unveiling) up there. I still have to find homes for all the Christmas decorations, extra paintings that didn't fit in the other storage areas, and the hat, gloves and shoes I wore on my wedding trip.

I plan to use my parents' bedroom set in this room, half of which is at our lake house. Then I need to decide if the double bed will fit up there with the dresser I can't bear to give up (my daughter's nursery furniture). In my mind's eye, it looks fabulous, but through my glasses, it sure is a mess.

+ + +

I made up a pie recipe yesterday--tastes pretty good on a hot day. We went out to eat with our daughter last night and then had dessert here.

Peach Fluff Pie

Crust: Keebler shortbread crust

Filling:

Peel and slice about 4 or 5 ripe peaches, cook over low heat in 2 T. margarine and 2 T. orange juice until soft. Mash and add 1/4 t. vanilla. Set aside to cool.

Small (.3 oz) pkg. Sugar free orange Jell-o, dissolved in 1/2 C. boiling water. Refrigerate until it starts to set.

Stir in 1 1/2 C fat free sour cream.

Stir in the cooled, cooked fruit.

Pour into pie crust and refrigerate.

I added some Cool Whip, just because I had some on hand, which fluffs it up a bit.

This would taste more "peachy" if you used peach jello, but it doesn't come in sugar free. You could probably use lemon, but I liked the color.

Serves 6