1357 As summer winds down

The coffee shop is changing its hours--now I have to wait until 7 a.m. So many of the college kids have returned to school that the local business people are filling in with "alumni" who now may be grandmothers themselves. Labor Day week-end is a real hoot--you never know who the wait staff might be.

The programs this past week-end were wonderful. Friday night the symphony offering was "Broadway and the Movies" with Kern, Rodgers, Webber and Williams. Saturday night was Gary Puckett, who I'm guessing must be nearing 60, but still has a fabulous voice. He gave a lovely Christian witness and had a time where he invited veterans to come to the stage to shake their hands.

The weather has turned a bit. Coolish. I purchased regatta t-shirts for both of us, not that I'm much of a sailor, but I watched them being made--3 colors, designs on both the front and back. Really labor intensive when done on the old fashioned silk screen. Mine is long sleeve, and yesterday on my bike ride it felt really good.

I'm working my way through Alexander Hamilton by Ron Chernow. With all we hear about intrigue and chaos in our 21st century government, I must say, it can't touch the 18th century. I'm amazed this country ever made it through the first 5 years. Gleaned along the way: Hamilton was a man of deep, unalterable principles; hair trigger temper; superhuman stamina who enjoyed beating his enemies at their own game; magnified his personal problems; was quick to perceive threats and issue challenges.

"If Washington was the father of the country and Madison the father of the Constitution, then Alexander Hamilton was surely the father of the American government." (p. 481)

1356 Why don't they listen to [insert name here]?

Greg over at Shush [Aug. 10] has a point that reminds me of the peace activists [even the name is a bit bizarre] who were here at Lakeside last week. Reminds me of the grieving mother who has already personally met with the president but wants one more shot to tell him he's wrong. However, Greg is talking about the American Library Association, a group sort of like the elected representatives from thousands of churches from hundreds of denominations who gather annually to feel important passing resolutions no one will ever read, and no one outside their little "club" supports. He writes:

The complaining on the ALA Council list for the past month has been something to behold. "Why aren't there news releases out on those resolutions!" "Why didn't American Libraries put more information about those resolutions in the magazine!" "Why hasn't George Bush begged our forgiveness for going into Iraq after we passed our resolution!" Well maybe not that last one but you know they dream about it. Anyway, a number of the more vocal liberals are up in arms because they feel the resolutions on disinformation and on Iraq haven't been properly promoted. They've been demanding that ALA staff drop everything they might be doing (probably even vacations) and devote all their time to telling the world that ALA has stuck her foot in her collective mouth once again."

And let us go back to the torture resolution once again. In April of this year the Bill of Rights Defense Committee offered an invitation for ALA to sign on to a letter opposing torture. The immediate response of Councilors? Sure! No mention of who the group was but they're against torture too so let's make common cause! Apparently once a resolution is passed, ALA is then forced to hop on any bandwagon and storm any windmill that may cross the shadow of one of the Council's proclamations.

These resolutions do nothing but drain time and energy away from ALA but they are the bread and butter of Rosenzweig, Kagan, SRRT, et al. These are the things that make them popular when they're sitting around with their various leftist friends from other leftist groups and organizations. All tittering away over bad Bush jokes and bragging how they convinced a national organization to say "F U" to over half the country. Rosenzweig is already on record that sabotage and invective are what make him happy. Are we really supposed to believe he has the organizations best interest at heart? Any of them?

If you're not a librarian, you're scratching your head--especially if your town library branch has been closed, or the hours cut back, or everything on the shelves is 20 years old to pay for the computer system. "What's this to do with libraries?" you wondered. Greg's point exactly. You are now smarter than the folks he has to work with on ALA. It's a good template for your own association or organization or church council TO AVOID.

1355 Resurrection lilies

Before we purchased our Lakeside home in 1988, I'd never noticed the lovely pink resurrection lily, which just surprises you suddenly on an August day by popping up through the soil. I rarely see them in central Ohio, although I'm sure they are there perhaps sneaking through in July when we are up here. We asked our neighbors about these splendid surprises, and they told us their name. Mrs. Thompson, the former owner, was known for her love for and tender care of a variety of blooming plants, ground cover and run-away bushes. We have a magnolia bush that is half the size of the house.

Borrowed from www.greyfort.com photo album
So I was a bit shocked when Susan last week-end and Jean this week-end, our house guests, both called them "naked ladies."

More in the category of "naked lady" was the across-the-street renter this past week. An extremely well-endowed, middle-aged earth mother type, she walked her three dogs each morning. . .in her sheer nightgown. And with no plastic baggies for the follow up.

1354 Gardening tip

You probably thought you'd never see a gardening tip on Ms. Brown Thumb's blog, didn't you? I saw one in the paper this week that reminded me we need to do a little ivy pulling around the porch. The columnist said you can remove those little "footprints" that are left on siding and foundations after you've tugged and struggled with the tenacious ivy. Dab them with linseed oil (boiled or raw), let it soak for 15 minutes, then scrape with a wood scraper or rough cloth.

As far as I know, there is no way to remove your children's footprints from your heart. They will continue stomping around even when almost 40.

1353 Mohammed's message for Cindy

Mohammed at Iraq the Model has a thoughtful message for the grieving Cindy Sheehan, who has let herself become a tool of the anti-war forces and continues to spill her son's blood.

"You are free to go and leave us alone but what am I going to tell your million sisters in Iraq? Should I ask them to leave Iraq too? Should I leave too? And what about the eight millions who walked through bombs to practice their freedom and vote? Should they leave this land too? Is it a cursed land that no one should live in? Why is it that we were chosen to live in all this pain, why me, why my people, why you?

But I am not leaving this land because the bad guys are not going to leave us or you to live in peace. They are the same ones who flew the planes to kill your people in New York. I ask you in the name of God or whatever you believe in; do not waste your son's blood. We here have decided to avenge humanity, you and all the women who lost their loved ones." Read "A message to Cindy Sheehan" here.

1352 Langston Hughes' Brass Spittoons

The assignment in writing class was to write a poem about some type of job we'd had in the past, and the teacher provided Langston Hughes "Brass Spittoons" as a sample and we spent some time discussing what he might have meant. Tricky stuff, deciphering what a poet might intend. Although there's little doubt that cleaning a spittoon wouldn't be much fun.

So I used Hughes' poem as a template for mine, following his style, to write about corn detasselling, the adolescent right of passage in the midwest. [I don't know enough html code to get this to space correctly--if anyone can suggest an indent that isn't a blockquote, let me know.]



Working for DeKalb Seed



Pull the tassels, girl.

Polo
Dixon
Stratford
Woosung

Pull those pollen tassels.
Mud between the rows
in between your toes.
Bugs on the stalks.

Mud in the boots
dirt in your gloves
Sunburned eye lids.
Dew on the leaves
Soaking your sleeves.
Forget where you are, girl.

Two weeks in hot July, girl.

Fifty cents
One dollar
Two dollar
Save it all

Buy shoes for the horse,
a dress of course
For a Saturday date.

Tug those tassels, girls

sisters
friends
sack lunches
dropped at the farm by moms.

Faster, faster arms aching
Get a rhythm, back be breaking
Water at the end of the row.

At night in your sleep, girl,

row on row
on cutting row
on green row
on glistening row

All night till dawn
Pull the tassel,
Hey, girl.

1351 You can't be too careful in a small town

In writing class the assignment was "Choose a well-known person from public life whose actions betrayed the trust or adulation he or she had earned from the public. Write an editorial, poem or song lyrics about the actions of this person."

So I chose to write about finding an old book of poetry at last Sunday's used book sale, written about 35 years ago by a man who was the pastor of a large suburban church and a rising star in Christendom. I poured out my disgust recounting how I flipped through it reading the dedication to his wife (to whom he was unfaithful), the acknowledgement of his congregation's support (which he abandoned), and doing the math in my head to try to figure out where he might be today. I used no names--not his, or the church or the city.

As our little group critiqued my essay, the story of infidelity mixed in with colophons and dedications must have sounded vaguely familiar--beyond the usual country and western ballad "you done me wrong" motif. One woman asked his name, and I told her. She said she knew his father from another state. Another woman in the class from the east coast said, I work with his daughter.

There are just no secrets in Lakeside!

This is not us, but the room looks familiar

1350 Free to a good home

While biking to writing class yesterday, I stopped at a cottage with a card table in the drive-way on which were stacked books and games. The sign said, "Free--please leave the table."

Smart lady! When I was Head of the Veterinary Library at Ohio State we occasionally gave away journals we didn't plan to bind. From my office I took a small oak table from an earlier generation of library furniture (I had an eclectic decor that spanned 50 years) and put it in the hall outside the library's doors. Then I piled it high with wonderful race horse journals that were at least 5 years old, and not in our binding quota. I made a sign, "Free to a good home" which seemed appropriate for our specialty. When I opened the library the next morning I was shocked to see all the journals on the floor and the table was gone!

I was a member of all the college listservs, so I immediately sent out an e-mail message pleading for my table and explaining my error. It was returned the next night with no comment.

1349 What's Becker sniffing?

Why shouldn't CNOOC (i.e., The Chinese government) just own all our oil, Mr. Becker? Why stop with just UNOCAL? Why shouldn't the Peoples Liberation Army be embedded right off shore in our gulf and Alaska. Noooo problem. Geeesh. Sometimes I can't believe the stupidity of the "experts."

1348 What is your favorite food to grill?

A web site I stumbled into asked me that very personal question. Tomorrow when our son and my husband's sister and husband are here, I plan to grill bratwurst, but it will be done on the kitchen stove in my big black cast iron skillet. The dirty little secret is that it is cleaner, faster and healthier to use the stove and carry it to the deck after assembling everything at the kitchen table. If Pete and Peg are reading this, the lovely grill you gave us is next door at the neighbors where we can use it any time we wish, but so far, the demand has never come up. Tonight I'm grilling salmon--same method.

1347 Bryant Gumbel and Kelly Ripa

Kelly has had guest co-hosts this week because Regis is. . .on vacation, I guess. Never have I seen a more mismatched pair than Giant Bumbel and Kelly Ripa. There was absolutely zero chemistry, he isn't funny, he is snide, and he stepped on her lines. I don't think this man likes anyone, especially someone better looking than he.

Miss Flora

On July 26 my first grade teacher died. Born in 1906, she was 40-something the day we walked home from school together on a crisp fall day, me feeling quite important to be in her presence, pacing myself to keep up with her brisk steps. My family had moved to Forreston in the middle of my first grade year, and our second home in that town was across the street from her home where she lived with her parents. Mercifully, I have forgotten her exact words when I asked the prim, diminuative spinster in high heels and a suit how old she was, but do recall to this day her reply was sharp enough to teach me it was rude to ask a lady that question.

First grade in her classroom was traumatic for me. My Mt. Morris teacher, whom I loved, had already told me that I should expect changes--"they say 'thuh' instead of 'thee'" she quietly told me, referring to one of the few words I could read, "but there is a wonderful playhouse in Miss Flora's classroom." But that wasn't all, I painfully discovered. The Forreston first graders knew how to read sentences and spell, and I didn't. The first time Miss Flora began calling out words and my classmates put pencil to paper to write them down, I just stood up to look at someone else's paper to see what I should do. The entire class gasped and pointed and she flew across the room like a tiny bird to stop my cheating. One day Miss Flora kept me after school for 45 minutes staring at the blackboard until I could figure out what the word "paragraph" meant.

A dishtowel from the cute playhouse was once tied around my face when I talked out loud, and another time she jerked my braids hard from behind because my head was too close to the paper when I printed. Mainstreaming as an educational concept was not known then--we all just went to school together. Children who couldn't read or write were either ignored in the back of the room or ridiculed. She made life miserable for one little boy whom I still remember. He dropped out of school in second grade.

One day last week my brother called me from Florida to say he'd seen her obituary in the hometown newspaper. I'd forgotten that he too had been in her first grade. "What I remember about her," he said, "is that when we were quarantined (one of my sisters had polio in the fall of 1949) and couldn't go trick or treating at Halloween, she brought candy to our house."

Generations of children really did get a solid foundation from her, I know that intellectually when I look back and realize all the basics I learned in her class. Still, I was pleased to hear that little snippet of her kindness to a suffering and frightened family. My own memories needed a little balancing.

1345 When is stealing not theft?

When a library publication prints the story. Conservator compares the theft of classified documents with the theft of maps, as reported in Library Journal and American Libraries.

"The headline for last Tuesday's article refers straightforwardly to an "accused Yale thief." The article's lead paragraph states equally straightforwardly that Mr. E. Forbes Smiley III is "charged with stealing rare maps," etc.

Needless to say, the initial notice in American Libraries on Berger's unauthorized removal of documents from the National Archives contains no version of the words "theft" or "steal." "

In checking the American Libraries website, I noted this resolution on disinformation. It's a hoot, considering their own carefully worded obfuscation and manipulation of information to say nothing of playing in the puddles instead of checking the ocean.

1344 Erma Bombeck and Peter Jennings

The Jennings eulogies have not mentioned his connection to Erma Bombeck. It was her appearances on Good Morning America in the 1980s that got us switched from CBS to ABC. Not that Jennings was on the morning show, but we'd turn off the TV after her monologue and when we turned on the TV in the evening after work, there he was. Walter was gone by then, we weren't crazy about Dan, so Peter seemed a fresh face--handsome and articulate--appearing everywhere in the world when exciting events happened.

CNN grabbed us briefly in the first Iraq war, then it was back to ABC and Peter. Fox News was a late comer to our local cable carrier, so I didn't pay much attention to it until maybe 2002 or 2003. I gave up on Mr. Jennings during the beginning of the current war. As professional as he was, he just couldn't hide his distain and dislike for President Bush. It colored everything he said, from word choice to the slight sneer. If he ever let a positive phrase pass his lips, I'm guessing he was quoting someone else, something all the MSM do to appear "balanced." I also didn't like that he was so critical of US policy, but hadn't become a citizen after two decades on the payroll (he corrected that shortly before the cancer appeared).

However, his eulogies brought out many things I didn't know--like he hadn't finished high school but attained the heights of popularity and income and continued on a never ending search for information and comprehending complex topics. He loved interacting with children and appreciated jazz. I didn't know that and feel better about him now. I know he will be missed by his many fans.

He is survived by his fourth wife, Kayce Freed, and his two adult children with third wife Kate Morton.

1343 Photos of Lakeside

Eric was one of my "blogging" students two weeks ago, and when he got home he posted some photos of his vacation here. Stop by and say Hello and introduce yourself.

1342 Sailing the front porch

My husband took sailing lessons last week in the mornings, but because he was teaching art in the afternoons, he didn't have any time to practice. He's found a neighbor to go out with him this afternoon (brave man--the water is terribly calm). So he's practicing on the front porch.

Here's the set up as I step around the corner to watch. The rope is tied to the kitty condo and held by his left hand. He has two 12" high folding stools representing the sides of the sunfish sail boat. The rocker is close by supporting the tennis racket which he is using in his right hand as the "tiller." On the floor is the instruction book with 200 diagrams and illustrations, open to the skill on which he's working.

I don't know what he looks like on the water, but he's darn good navigating the front porch.

1341 Reading the sports page

Yesterday in writing class, Naomi who teaches creative writing to children, mentioned an odd factoid about newspapers--the reading level of the sports page is higher than the front page or op ed! "It's the similes and metaphors," she said. "They require a higher level of comprehension." Could it be? So this morning at the coffee shop I glanced at the sports page of the USAToday, just for fun.

Here's a statement from the Money page:

"Sprint and Nextel have a game plan for the future, and it's not what you might think. The play book goes like this. . ." Couple of sports idioms--financial pages do a lot of that. Almost exclusively written by men who think their audience is male.

Now here's the sports page:

"Pittsnogle went from reserve center to cult hero to verb in the space of a few weeks. Physically, he's 6-11. Metaphorically, he stands much taller." This article uses these colorful and alliterative phrases: "a wisker short"; "unlikely underdog"; put him on a pedestal"; "play in the paint"; "quick-draw jumper." Full Pittsnogle story here.

Not only was the sports writing better paced with more difficult vocabulary and idioms, but it actually used the words VERB and METAPHORICALLY. I would have written more, but someone joined me at the table, so it was time to chat.

Made a believer out of me.

1340 Writing at Lakeside

Writing class this week is taught by Patricia Mote of Berea, Ohio. Not only is she an experienced teacher and author, but she is also a publisher and editor. And she comes to class prepared! I love that! So she brings a wealth of talent to the class. She's doing a beginners group in the morning and advanced in the late afternoon. Her next project is a book about the restored theater district in Cleveland which she tells me has the second largest number of theater seats in the country next only to New York.

I biked home at 5:15, ate a little supper and then returned to the Rhein Center (no AC and getting hotter as the day progressed) for watercolor class. Remember the chanters I wrote about a few entries back? Chant for peace with 7-11 songs (7 words sung 11 times)? Well, they were the only other group in the building. I thought I'd go crazy. Not a word about the One who can really bring peace.

1339 The Big E

This week at Lakeside, Dr. Eugene Swanger is the Big E. Yesterday it was standing room only in his lecture about China and Taiwan. As the room filled up Pastor Barbara had to direct some people to the lobby of the hotel to meet the fire code. It being Peace Week, one sweet 70- something lady in front of me said, 'Someone can have my chair, I can sit on the floor.' Then a negotiator type guy standing against the wall began interrupting Barbara's introduction of Dr. Swanger by suggesting, peaceably of course, how we could all adjourn to another room (already being used for something else) while wasting 15 minutes of the limited time. Pastor Barbara graciously declined his offer and continued. Love that woman. Great smile.

But usually, the Big E is Mike Albert, the Elvis impersonater. He draws a huge crowd and fills Hoover Auditorium. He puts on an outstanding show varying it from year to year, and has his own fan club.

I talked to him this morning on the phone. Yes, the Big E was in my son's shop to get his trailer fixed. My son asked him what he did and he just said he had a rock and roll band, because without his wig and bling bling, he really doesn't look like Elvis. When he found out who he REALLY was, my son called me and put the Big E on the phone, so we chatted about Lakeside. Really nice guy, too.

1338 Did you spend the night at Grandma's house?

Parenting is the title of a column in the Plain Dealer written by Dr. Sylvia Rimm. This morning's question was from a mother of 3 whose own parents who live close don't invite her children to have "overnights," but her husband's parents who live some distance welcome the opportunity. I only skimmed it since I was already writing this blog in my head, so I don't recall Dr. Rimm's solution.

Did you? I didn't. Well, once I think. It must have been for a very good reason, and because it was so rare, I remember that time with great fondness. My paternal grandmother was blind, but she knew all about kids--she'd raised 9 on a farm with no plumbing or electricity. My dad, understandably, believed she'd paid her dues in the mothering department, and didn't want her watching kids for anyone, not even my mother. His siblings just ignored his example, and so my cousins had all the fun plus grandma's good company and the influence of her sweet nature.

My husband and his siblings and cousin spent every week-end with his "Neno and Biggie." Those days and their fine Christian values and modeling really live on in his memory to this day. While his parents slept in on Sunday morning after a night of partying, the kids were in Sunday School at Memorial Presbyterian. The grandparents were actually raising his cousin, so I suspect the other children were welcomed playmates for her. He also spent his summers with his father's family at a cottage at Lake Webster, Indiana. His parents were divorced, so this was a way to be a part of his father's family. God bless all the aunties and grandmas who fill in the missing chinks in a child's life!

My own cildren never spent overnights with my parents, although all their cousins did (I think it was rare). I did ask once, was turned down, and never asked again. We lived two states away, so obviously a week-end jaunt wouldn't have been convenient. Once when the children were in pre-school we did take a week's vacation and left them with my sister-in-law who had a day care center. They thought they'd died and gone to heaven, and hoped all the other kids were new "cousins." When they were in middle school we flew them to California to spend a week with my father-in-law and his wife. They still talk about that visit (grandpa cooked bacon in the microwave!) and remember it fondly.

I didn't read Dr. Simm's reply, but because the writer refers to her parents' home as "museum like" I think I can detect the problem. Either Mommy has no rules at all and wants no one, especially Mom, to discipline the little sweety pies, or she has a list of rules to follow that runs to eleven type written pages, about bedtime, favorite foods, allergies, bath temperature, laundry soap, type of reading material, etc. Someone doesn't measure up in these kinds of situations.

1337 The Grieving Mother

This woman hanging around Crawford, TX is in a lot of pain, and it will only get worse if she lets the anti-war protestors take over her dignity and loss. If you read through the various accounts, the Bush Administration has been very patient with her, but for some reason she will not be satisfied until she has convinced the President by personally talking to him, that he should wave a wand and stop this war. Her grief has made her crazy. I feel very sorry for her. But you know what? That won't bring her son back, and then she'll find something else.

I watched my grandmother grieve for the last 20 years of her life after her son was killed in the China Burma India theater. She wanted answers, but never got them. And I'm so glad. Just two years ago we found out what happened to him. What a terrible, horrible waste of a fine young life caused by the incompetency and arrogance of his commanding officer. My grandmother's uncle was a teen-ager when he ran away and signed on to be a soldier in the final months of the Civil War, long before she was born. He died of dysentery and is buried in Tennessee. Grief? His family left his name out of the family Bible, and we didn't discover him until we started doing genealogy. Look down through history and find a war that doesn't have grieving parents or dissenters.

When my oldest son died over 40 years ago, I demanded answers from the hospital, the pathologist, a pastor, my friends and my family. (I didn't think to ask God because I wasn't a believer then.) I was not a nice person and I was really angry. If camping out at the summer White House would have given me answers, I probably would have tried it. There is no response in this world that heals that grief, you can't hug it away or talk it away or listen it away. Losing a son who volunteered to be a soldier in a time of war, to protect his country, who loved the Iraqi people and believed in the cause his mother doesn't like must make it all the more unbearable for her. I just wish she weren't dishonoring what he believed in by pursuing what she believes in.

1336 47,000th visitor

Some time during the night or early morning my blogodometer turned over to 47,000. Today the Truth laid Bear says I'm #441, which isn't bad considering there are over 14 million blogs out there. This changes all the time--once I was down in the 200s, and last week I think it was 700 something. I truly don't understand these rating services--I think I get rated on the basis of the ratings of the bloggers who link to me. Does that make sense to you? And always, always, Mr. Bear says I have an average of 71 visitors daily. No matter if 300 or 15 stop by, it is always 71. All of that is a fabrication, too. If my site gets pinged because someone strung together the words like "playful xxx kittens pursue Canadian librarians" and my little photo of librarian Susan's kittens comes up on the list, but reused on someone else's site, the site-o-blogger gives me a nod.

I'm now on a California consortium/list--I'm considered an ex-pat Californian because I lived in Alameda in 1944-45 and in Fresno in 1957. Wow. The right is really out there on the left coast. I've contacted an Ohio list, but haven't heard back. Maybe 38 years isn't long enough time to be an Ohioan? I say "warsh" just like a native.

1335 It's Peace Week at Lakeside

And therefore, my least favorite week to be here. In fact, this may be only the second or third season in 31 years that my visits have coincided with the peacenik vacationers with their long faces, home-made banners and candlelight marches. Now that I'm retired and have the whole summer to spend here if I choose, I'll probably come across them more often. These aren't the "peace in our time" folk I knew growing up in the Church of the Brethren, but the "Let's bring about peace by humming and meditating and pretending we understand Eastern religions" groupies. These are not "Christian pacifists" who seek the peace that passes all understanding, although some may espouse a syncretistic form of Christianity, but the "I won't talk to you if you aren't open minded" pacifists.

Here's some offerings this week, and I'll leave the leaders/instructors nameless so I won't be gossiping. They wrote up these descriptions, and are a good match for last week's "health and wellness" crowd (earrings, tatoos and hard bodies). Aside from the nuclear proliferation, gap between rich and poor, and beyond the rat race lectures/meetings which I think are pretty standard from year to year (nothing like 80 year olds discussing the rat race), we have these gems:

". . .gather in a circle, sing a simple song. . .connect with each person in the circle, sense the wonder and delight that comes from meditative and lovely openness to all in the circle."

". . .spiritual chants, sung repetitiously, brings the strength of spiritual power into our group as we gather together to share in our glory to the One God." Children welcome if they are old enough to sing.

". . .Look at developing more deeply our own connection with Spirit. . . Only open mindedness, positivity and solution allowed!!!"

YAWN. Sounds like 1970s left-overs.

Meanwhile, I'll be doing up the laundry from a fabulous week-end of wonderful, interesting guests, a week-end with the ballet, a concert and a little jazz flute ensemble. A cool front moved in and it was another unbelieveable thrill to enjoy the lakefront, especially Sunday with an ice cream social and a town band from (someplace nearby?). Sue and Jim have lived all over the USA east of the Mississippi, but despite 10 years in Columbus had never been here. I think they enjoyed themselves, and we certainly appreciated their fresh take on the sights, and their wonderful stories.

Here's what I'm looking forward to this week seven at Lakeside: two more lectures on China by Dr. Eugene Swanger, a class on creative writing, and a watercolor class. There's a paper making class that's back to back with the writing class, so I'm not sure I want to be THAT involved in the arts, but I'll consider it.

1334 Do you feel safer?

Martha Stewart has had her house detention extended. Golly, I sure feel better. Michael Jackson and O.J. are on the streets, but we are all protected now that Martha, charged with perjury and who has done her time with her head held high, still wears her ankle bracelet. And the NYT is really on this story, too. Captain's Quarters tallies up their stories on Martha (perjury) as against the Air American scandal (misuse of public funding--taking money meant for poor kids).

In these columns are the number of stories in the liberal media for the Air America / Gloria Wise scandal, compared to the number about Martha. NYT reporters must have waaaay too much time on their hands. Captain's Quarter's figures:

Media outlet.....AA/GW......Martha
NY Times..........0...........16*
Wash Post.........0...........10 (14 day search)
LA Times..........0...........3
CBS News..........0...........1
ABC News..........0...........4

What does this show? The Exempt Media has plenty of resources to continue coverage of a single celebrity who allegedly engaged in insider trading over 4,000 shares of ImClone stock, avoiding $51,000 in losses when bad news hit just afterwards. (Stewart wasn't convicted for insider trading, but obstruction of justice and perjury.) That amounts to 1/18th of what Air America got in misappropriated public funds by sucking money out of Bronx charity -- money intended for poor kids and Alzheimer's patients. Yet the New York Times has mentioned Martha Stewart* in 16 articles over the last 30 days, some of those in-depth reporting on Stewart and her ongoing legal struggles, but have not managed to put "Air America" and "Gloria Wise" into the same article even one time -- despite the misappropriation of public funds occurring in the Paper of Record's own back yard."

BTW, Happy Birthday Martha--best wishes for the huge comeback I know you'll have.

1333 Friday's Feast On Sunday

When I checked on Friday, the list wasn't up yet, so here it is, late. Not like me to be late.

Appetizer
Briefly describe your living room.

Fabulous view of trees, yard and creek. Peaceful decor; cream walls with khaki color crown molding; cream colored rug on dark marble; bamboo colored couch; deep blue and cream colored side chairs; antique rocker with blue and maroon upholstery and a few family pieces from our grandparents; glass top coffee table and end chairs; arts ‘n crafts style oak entertainment center; 50s modern side chairs with Frank Lloyd Wright pillows and rosewood secretary; walnut bookshelf with memorabilia and books galore; easel with painting; 7 or 8 watercolor paintings; lamps.

Soup
List 3 things you'd like to accomplish before the end of 2005.

I don’t set goals. And you can't trick me into it!

Salad
When you're online, what do you spend the most time reading/playing/doing? Suggest a site for us to visit.

I read political, religious and personal blogs and news sites. I skip entries even in my favs if they are potty mouth'd and cranky. I like Michael Yon in Iraq. Wonderful, sensitive photographs.

Main Course
What would the title of your autobiography be?

You're looking at it.

Dessert
What time do you usually go to bed?

About 9:30 or 10. Earlier if I can work it in.

1332 After stem cell, then what?

Unshelved has a good one.

1331 Do you like applause?

The caption under a photo of a musician in today's paper read, "Spencer Marks soaks up the audience's applause. . ."

For some of us, applause is the water that hydrates and invigorates and allows us to bloom more brightly. Is it the money? The sense of power over others? The memories of mom saying "good boy?" I watch performers every evening here at Lakeside, from amateurs performing in "Our Town" to professionals, some on their way up and some on their way down the important venues. Through their agents (or parents) contracts are signed, dates are blocked in on their calendars, rehearsals are set, hotel rooms and limos are reserved, and receptions and dinners in their honor are planned. But it seems to be about the applause, doesn't it? Applause pushes away the doubts of not measuring up--it comforts the grieving, warms the cold feet, and soothes the churning tummy--until the next time.

God designed me without an applause meter. I'll clap for others--even stand and cheer. But perform for applause, compliments or adoration? Never. Now, money--maybe.

1330 What I think about the new Lutheran hymnal

Not much.

Now these are readers

Occasionally I come across reader/bloggers (readloggers?), people who are such active, intense readers that I can't imagine how they have time to blog. Here is one of them. These two definitely have too much in common. What do you think?

1328 Judge Roberts and his children

There's some rumblings of outrage on the right that NYT is investigating Judge Roberts' adoption of two children from Latin America. Off limits! Outrageous! How low can they go! Well, yes, it's low, but Republicans raised (or lowered) snooping into personal lives to the level where any transaction that involves another person seems to be political grist, whether it's sex or paying social security for your nanny.

Besides, in case you haven't noticed or are not part of the adoption triad, adoption secrecy is not now, and never has been, about the welfare of the child. There have been powerful political and personal interests for as long as adoption went beyond an informal fostering system on the frontier. In Ohio, for instance, adoption records were not sealed until the early 60s. I suppose we'd have to go back and research who was in the state legislature at that time to figure out why children were more protected after a certain cut off date than before and who didn't want to be found or what estate needed to be protected.

Also, it's strictly political that you cannot keep an adoptee from his or her tribal heritage as an adult if they are some minor percentage American Indian, but you can keep them ignorant if they are African American, or Irish American or Turkish American or any other mix and match of cultures.

There is so much money tied up in the adoption process these days with people flying to the Balkans, or Russia or Central America to briefly "reside" that a mechanic and waitress who want a family by adoption are just out of luck. They'd be better off to wait for third cousin Susie to "get in trouble." You'd better have a nest egg of $20,000-$30,000 if you want a family by any of the more exotic methods.

And do you really think adoption by singles or gays is about the best interests of the child? No. It is political and social theory driving that change. It's always been about who has the power. And that ain't babies. What about open adoption? What baby ever asked for that? It's a social theory that by some miracle, children will be happier and less conflicted knowing that B-mom and A-mom exchanged addresses and colluded on this little "just as if" fantasy.

So that brings me to Judge Roberts. This is a powerful man, set to become even more powerful. There may be absolutely, flawless adoption records, but these days, his enemies would need to be highly ethical and moral people to at least not be suspicious. And when have you seen that on the left?

1327 You probably know this visitor

Cuppa at Brown Betty Brew has been battling an unwelcome visitor. You probably know him. He certainly has turned up at our household every time we move. Then drop down one and read her story about "putting the cat out." It's a hoot. I don't know if she writes for a living, but she should.

1326 Bush and Darwin

The left wing thought police are all over this one. But here's a sensible thought on the matter:

"There are those who believe that when someone has expressed his own thesis that it is only fitting that those who disagree with his thesis should be allowed to express their disagreement and objections to it. Indeed, there are some scientists who have even gone so far as to make a point of making the strongest possible case against the very theories that they have taken enormous pains to devise.

The outstanding example of this attitude was Charles Darwin. In his great book, The Origin of Species, he went to enormous trouble to set out all the arguments he could muster against his own theory. And, to his dying day, he continued to be heroically willing to entertain objections to his own carefully thought out position.

Would Darwin have objected to President Bush's seemingly paradoxical comment that both sides in the evolution debate "should be properly taught"? Well that might depend on whether he was permitted to hear the president's justification of his position, namely that both sides should be taught "so people can understand what the debate is about," and the president's further statement: "You're asking me whether or not people ought to be exposed to different ideas, and the answer is 'yes.'" "

Read the whole article here.

1325 What's in your garage?

Does your garage look like this one in Bloomfield Hills, Michigan? Architectural Digest is going to feature it in a fall issue.

Our garage is pretty neat and clean (thanks to hubby), but he only cleans it spring and fall. It is probably holding more "left-overs-and-will-never-use-again" items than necessary. During the winter it holds the deck furniture, which makes it a bit tight for a van and SUV. The former kitchen seems to be in the garage. The last owner in the late 1990s replaced the cabinets with a light white washed birch look and installed the old base and wall cabinets (I think they started out as dark walnut but had been painted several times) across the front of the garage. Last year I replaced the refrigerator and the old side-by-side awaits it fate in the garage, usually holding only a sack of apples or 2 or 3 cans of pop. Holding up its end for history and tradition is a rolling 3 tray metal unit from our first apartment's kitchen. In glorious ovacado green is our plastic kitchen wastebasket from the 1970s which holds a variety of tools too shy to stand alone.

We have enough old unusable rags and too short pieces of lumber stashed around to start a small cottage industry. Until the last spring cleaning, we had probably 5-10 large cardboard boxes sitting atop the cabinets--just in case we ever needed to repack a computer or DVD player or mail something really large. Hanging on to boxes until they get buggy seems to be a problem with us. Does anyone else do that?

We have several neighbors who can barely get one car in their two car garage because of the boxes and tools and "stuff" stacked to the ceiling. They seem to put a lot out on trash day, but the pile in the garage never goes down. I suspect this is a type of respectable, but almost out of control, hoarding.

This person responded at a hoarding OCD board (?) with an answer I thought showed a lot of insight: "I hoard because I hoard. It's a cycle where my home is a complete, unfunctional mess, so I believe that I will use all these items once I clean (or in order to clean) up the rest of the mess. I have known about my hoarding/OCD for a few years and have gone through much BT and it seems to have only gotten worse. I think it's because I truly believe that once I organize my house, I will finally be able to use all the items that have been 'hidden' or in piles or behind other things. So, I have blind faith that I will soon clean up, and that perpetuates the comforting and incorrect belief of future use."

It's exactly the reason we have problems throwing away empty boxes and a frig that we don't really need. Blind faith that we might use them some day. On a continuum, I'm just a hoarder-in-waiting compared to my messy neighbors.

1324 What did you learn the first year of your marriage?

Last night we went out for dinner with Sharon and Eric and Nancy and Ron (46th anniversary). Among the 3 couples, our years of marriage added up to 125. That's a lot of wisdom, Ron quipped. But no one will listen, his wife responded. The Toledo Blade wants to know what you learned during the first year, I said.

You can let the reporter know at tlane@theblade.com what you learned. I took a few notes on this at the coffee shop while reading the paper--it's a lot easier to remember that first year than any of the others, I discovered.

Setting aside the sex stuff (which nowadays everyone figures out by a series of living together arrangements), I developed quite a list. A lot wasn't even about marriage, but about life in general. Here's just a few:

• We had three apartments that first year, all with interesting and/or peculiar neighbors. One had an 80 year old landlady with whom I'd eat dinner; one had a 16 year old mother, married with a baby. Her mother was 32, I think.
  
  
• I learned to cook, budget, manage a checking account, use a laundromat, and keep a car running. I'd learned bits and pieces from watching and working with my mom, but I'd either lived at home or in some type of college housing.
  
  
• I learned to scrounge for used furniture and adjust to another person's taste more conservative than mine. One wooden cabinet with a metal top stayed with us for 41 years.
  
  
• I learned to live on one income and save the other. That plan never failed us.
  
  
• I learned I needed to return to college so I wouldn't be stuck in dead-end clerical jobs and how to file a complaint with the county and sue for my final paycheck.
  
  
• I learned contraception occasionally fails and found out I was pregnant after I re-enrolled to finish my senior year. So along with all the other new things about being married, I learned a lot about my body that year. Although both my sisters were also pregnant and we were all due the same week, we didn't live in the same town so we didn't do much sharing (no cell phones or e-mail in those days).
  
  
• I learned how to teach Spanish to high school kids who knew more than I did.
  
  
• I learned the vagaries of the pre-women's movement laws and regulations that bound women--like becoming an instant Indiana resident and losing my in-state student status because of my marriage; being passed over for a job because I had a husband "who could support me;" being denied consideration for professional work because I was pregnant so I clerked in a drug store.
  
  
• I learned the trick of getting maximum service from a wringer washer that offered 30 minutes of agitation and wringing for a quarter (in the basement 3 floors down). Later I would figure out how to coordinate that with my husband's schedule so I could wash diapers--but that was during year two.
  
  
• I learned that although I thought my parents in-law were loads of fun, I didn't like their values much (my husband loved my family's values but didn't think they were much fun).
  
  
• I learned that compromise was not a good option for us. It was easier to just watch and wait until something came along we both liked. At least I think I learned that the first year--it's possible I didn't put a name to it for 20 or so years.

I'm pretty sure I learned that my husband was focused, logical, thoughtful, tidier than most men, passive, and non-confrontational. However, it probably took me years to see his personality as my good fortune rather than something to be changed.

It took a quarter of a century to learn this: don't talk your relationship to death. Men hate that. Find a girlfriend and talk to her (i.e., but only if you are female). Or blog it if you just got to get it out.

1323 Blogging doubles in 5 months

Technorati tracks weblogs--somehow when I hit the publish button, it pings somewhere and within 5 minutes, it is recorded. The blogosphere is growing faster than I thought, and apparently world events affect the growth rate both of blogs created and the number of posts published. New features like instant messaging and photo tools also push up the stats.

"As of the end of July 2005, Technorati was tracking over 14.2 Million weblogs, and over 1.3 billion links. Interestingly, this is just about double the number of blogs that we were tracking 5 months ago. In March 2005 we were tracking 7.8 million blogs, which means the blogosphere has just about doubled again in the past 5 months, and that the blogosphere continues to double about every 5.5 months." Technorati Weblog

Because I taught a blogging class here at Lakeside, I can take personal credit for adding 6 more bloggers to the list in one week. And all are over 50, thank you. The tricky part is that 5 of these folks were not touch typists--slowing things down considerably. I'm not expecting frequent posts.

Dave Sifry at Technorati summarizes:

Technorati is tracking about 900,000 blog posts created every day

That's about 10.4 blog posts per second, on average

Median time from posting to inclusion in the Technorati index is under 5 minutes

Significant increases in posting volume are due to increased mainstream use of easy hosted tools as well as simple posting interfaces like post-from-IM and moblogging tools

Weekends tend to be slower posting days by about 5-10% of the weekly averages

During the day, posting tends to peak between the hours of 7AM and noon Pacific time (10AM - 3PM Eastern time)

Worldwide news events cause ripples through the blogosphere - not only in search volume, but also in posting volume

1322 Apple Pie Sailing Weather

My sugar-free apple pie won me a week's sailing lessons here at Lakeside. I don't even own a swim suit, so I was going to try to trade it for something else of comparable value, when my husband suggested he use it. He's had two lessons this week and just loves it.

Each day at lunch I hear about treading water with his shoes on and pieces and parts of the sunfish. Apparently he can join the sailing club for the season for $25 and can use the Lakeside boats, so he's excited about that. For years he has loved painting sail boats on the water, and also in dock (his latest painting of the sunfish lined up on their sides on shore sold for $450). Now they will have a bit more authenticity. His skin is as white as you can be and still be alive, so we have to slather his body and head with 45 spf sunblock. The cottage sort of smells like a beach.

Tonight is the opening of the Lakeside symphony season. Last night we went to the reception at the hotel to meet the symphony members (and to eat tiny, delicious snacky meatballs and cold chocolate covered desserts). I spent some time talking to the viola (i.e., the lady who plays one). She's been in the symphony for 15 years, lives in Washington, and teaches orchestra in a middle school. Her husband, who doesn't come, is a conductor. She shares a cottage with 5 other orchestra members--all men. She says they all get along great, and share all the housekeeping duties. No comment.

My husband's perspective drawing class is going well--except for the heat. He comes home about 6 p.m. just dripping. (Rhein Center has no AC.) He's quite excited about the abilities of one class member with no art training starting college this fall. He says she catches on quicker than anyone he's ever taught. The older class members have more of a struggle. I opted out since there were 9 signed up.

Instead of art classes, I've been attending the lectures on China. Gene Swanger is teaching something loosely titled Christian Response to Buddhist Teaching, and so far we are still in the basics of Buddhism. Then in the afternoon, Kerry Dumbaugh who has been with the Congressional Research Service since 1985 (and was a student of Dr. Swanger) is doing modern Chinese history. Yesterday was the late 70s, and I think today is 2003-2005 with lots of emphasis on the current financial page.

The weather should break today and we're looking forward to another fabulous week-end when Jim and Susan will be visiting us.

Lakeside, Ohio

1321 What the Bible doesn't tell you

Three Bad Fingers mentioned something today I hadn't thought about. All the misinformation of the ancients that was not included:

". . .it is amazing what is absent from the pages of the Bible. The backwards medical practices embraced by the ancient Egyptians never made appearance in the Bible, despite generations of Israelites in Egypt. The four elements recognized in Greek mythology (fire, wind, earth, and water) were never written in The Good Book. But these were all accepted truths at the time of authorship of many of the books in the Bible. Careful Biblical study even debunks the flat earth theory. " Read it here.

1320 Our town performs Our Town

Last night we joined other Lakesiders in a sweltering South Auditorium for a local performance of Thorton Wilder's Our Town, the most performed play in America. Community theater is such fun as you watch your friends and neighbors take on roles. In the case of our little summer community they only have a few weeks to put it together, build props, find costumes, and round up money and volunteers to put it on. It's sort of like those old Mickey Rooney Judy Garland movies where everyone chips in to help.

I first saw Our Town on TV. NBC's Producers Showcase offered it in 1955 with Frank Sinatra as the narrator (stage manager) and Paul Newman* and Eva Marie Saint as the young lovers, George and Emily. My high school English teacher assigned it to the class. My parents didn't have a television set--Dad said he was waiting for color. So I went with a group of friends to the Duffy home on First Street. Mrs. Duffy ran a cafe and she had two handsome sons, one of whom dated my best friend, so it seemed the ideal location for a fun "homework" night.

Last night a first time Lakesider, Josh Bayer, a senior at the University of Kentucky, played the part of George Gibbs. He's done a lot of acting in college, so who knows, maybe he'll go the Newman route. The role of Emily Webb was performed by Alison Park, a long time Lakesider and a student at Ohio Wsleyan University who waitresses during the summer at Sloopy's and clerks at the Fudge Shop. The heavy role of the narrator was done by Josh Olin, an elementary school teacher who's been coming here since he was a child. I don't know how anyone learns that many lines, mostly monologue, while squeezing in a vacation.

The director was young Kay Meyers, who will be a sophomore at Columbia College of Chicago where she studies theater. She has grown up at Lakeside (summers) and her sister runs the art center. Tom Meyers was the Producer (I don't think they are related).

Photo from Toledo Blade.

* Originally, James Dean was supposed to play the role of George Gibbs in the 1955 TV production, but Paul Newman got this role when Dean was killed.

1319 Phhhhht on fitness

What next? The President's smirk? His ears? A New Republic editor/columnist now takes the President to task for his fitness routine. Poor Dubya. He's just too dumb to get get off the treadmill.

"There's no denying that the results are impressive. Bush can bench press 185 pounds five times, and, before a recent knee injury, he ran three miles at a 6-minute, 45-second pace. That's better than I could manage when I played two sports in high school. And I wasn't holding the most powerful office on Earth. Which is sort of my point: Does the leader of the free world need to attain that level of physical achievement?" Crabby Bush Basher.

But then, he doesn't think much of the rest of over half the country either:

"A recent article of mine in ______ defending Bush hatred seems to have worked like some kind of conservative dog whistle, silently summoning drooling right-wingers out of their lairs to bay at the moon...Wait. Did I just lump David Brooks together with a bunch of incoherent right-wing knuckle-draggers?" Borrowed.

1318 The ubiquitous plastic water bottle

Although I don't recall when I first attended a public musical or dramatic performance, I can recall them as a pre-schooler. At church I watched the choirs perform at the Forreston Lutheran Church and the Mt. Morris Church of the Brethren; I attended concerts and watched musicians in the band shell in our little village at age 3 or 4; I sat in the audience at my sister's recitals; I cheered from the sidelines as the high school band performed at football and basketball games; I myself performed as a child with my siblings (we were an early version of the Jackson Five, but we were white and there were four of us); I sang in a ladies quartet and choral group and played first chair trombone in the band; I attended many programs of music and drama during high school and college; I acted in a few little productions as a student; and as an adult I've paid out a small fortune for tickets to on the road Broadway productions, picnic with the pops, community theater, and the last 31 years, have spent many hours at Hoover Auditorium here at Lakeside watching every imaginable singing, dancing, performing and dramatic hopeful who makes a living at the smaller venues of America.

But it has only been in the last 5 years or so that every performer seems to need to bring a plastic water bottle on stage. Am I the only one who thinks this looks really tacky--to turn your back on the audience and take a swig? What accounts for this surge in thirst?

1317 Why you know more about iPods than mammograms

Full Field Digital Mammography is a huge technological advancement in the detection of cancer that despite 5 years availability, isn't catching on to replace the older mammogram technology because consumer demand and manufacturer competition doesn't factor in. "Routine use of FFDM will mean:

Fewer images and less radiation overall
No lost, damaged, or mislabeled films
Portability
Reproducibility
New ways to detect cancer (manipulating the digital image); and
"Double-reads" by Computer Aided Detection (CAD) software"

CodeBlueBlog is running a three part series on FFDM and how the consumer is out of the loop on medical advancements. He compares it to another digital technology--the development of the music CD and the current popularity of the iPod. He concludes:

"If people were informed and had choices, new technology would spread like wildfire, and breast cancer detection would get better. Fewer women would die from breast cancer. All the groups who lobby so hard and work so fervently against this cancer plague could do more by advocating simple market reforms than is done with all the walkathons, pink ribbons, and think tank group seminars together."

And as usual in really thought provoking blogs, the comments are just as informative as the original post.

1316 Why you might need an architect

My husband is trying hard to retire, but when a former client or a good friend comes to him with a tale of woe, he's an old softy. As he rushed out last night, drawings in hand to meet with a widow, I said, spitting into the wind, "I thought you were retired."

He admitted it was like rescuing an abandoned puppy kicked to the side of the road. Her husband had died before their project was finished, and never saw it. She's enjoyed it all these years, but now wants a new house in her other community and didn't know how to start. So he drew up two plans and then met with her.

Next week he'll be presenting a talk to potential or current home owners here at a public program about what will go into a remodeling project. He needed a typed outline, so I reworked his chicken-scratches. Here's what you'll need to think about, at least if you are dealing with an association, a local design or preservation committee, a township, a county zoning board and your neighbors:

1. Establishing a relationship between client/owner and architect.

2. Preparing the program.

3. Contracts and Agreements.

4. Design Phase.

5. Finding contractors.

6. Working with clients.

7. Cost statements.

8. Construction Documents Phase.

9. Governmental agencies.

10. Construction Phase.

11. Examples of completed work (this will be done with slide projector--will need a projection screen)

12. Show examples of finished drawings.

13. Post relationship between client/owner and architect.

14. Questions and answers.

1315 Now she's the older woman

We squealed and hugged like teen-agers when we ran into each other after last night's program of southern Gospel. She and her family had moved out of state about five years ago, leaving a big hole in our community and church. We met when my daughter was about 12 or 13 and she was assigned to her as a "big sister" through our church youth program. At some point during the 80s she wrote me a lovely note after seeing my husband and me at a dance. Ah, I was such an 80s fashionista. That night I wore a lovely cream colored silk with full sleeves, big shoulder pads, blousy top with fitted waist, full circle long skirt, my best curly perm and full-clown make-up (mascara, eye shadow, etc.). We do a mean jitter-bug, and can fake a reasonable waltz and fox-trot. When dancing, you always look more graceful in a skirt (unless you are a guy, of course, then trousers are a good choice). Her note was so sweet and loving, but I nearly dropped it from surprise when she referred to me as an "older woman" who was a model for the young women to look up to. Older woman? That was my mom and her generation, wasn't it?

As we caught up on the kids, we both did double takes as she told me her oldest was now 21, and I told her my daughter, her "lil sis" would be 38 on her next birthday. As we talked I did the math in my head and realized she was now "the older woman." But I don't think I'll mention it.

1314 Chocolate flavored cheese

Chocolate and peanut butter, yes. Chocolate and raspberry, yes. But chocolate flavored cheese?

1313 Off label Use Causes Death

Although I'm not sure what "off-label" use would be for an abortificant, it's not safe. I think off-label means, "let's just fiddle with the instructions and see if you tolerate this." (And it's lethal for the unborn when used correctly.)

"The U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA) and Danco Laboratories, LLC, have warned healthcare professionals regarding the risk of sepsis associated with use of an off-label regimen of mifepristone (Mifeprex, RU-486) and misoprostol for medical abortion, according to an alert sent today from MedWatch, the FDA's safety information and adverse event reporting system.

Since the approval of mifepristone in September 2000, the agency has received four reports of septic death in patients receiving 200 mg of oral mifepristone followed by 800 µg of intravaginally placed oral misoprostol. One additional death was reported during clinical trials in 2001." Story at www.medscape.com

Even last year cases of infection with RU-486 were being reported. I'm not sure if it is that women's lives are cheap, or if the "perfect pill" for abortion can't be questioned because of pressure from the feminists, but compared to the flap about men, blindness and ED meds, I'm surprised I haven't seen more about this. But then, I don't watch much TV news in the summer.

1312 Leahy is so entertaining

Last night, Lakesiders were entertained by a musical family from Lakefield, Ontario, Leahy. The audience whistled, cheered, clapped and gave them two standing ovations, plus stood in line to get their CDs or programs autographed. Eight of the eleven siblings perform and dance Irish, Scottish and traditional tunes together (although one was out on maternity leave last night). The couple sitting in front of us were so enthusiastic I wondered if they might be the parents of the group!

Our guests, Duke and Kinga, went home this morning after worship on the lakefront pavilion and breakfast at Abigail's. Kinga is recovering from neck surgery and she said this was just the respite she needed. Last night at dinner we were talking about the possibility of them returning next year, when we suggested Duke offer a class on poetry (he writes it). The instructors in the arts program get their gate pass and a room at the artist's house, so they got quite excited about that. After dinner my husband took Duke to meet the manager of the Rhein Center, so he's going to put together an outline for a class and she'll work out the scheduling.

We went to the lighthouse at Marblehead, and the weather was so perfect and the water so delightful, we almost couldn't believe it--there was even a sailboat regatta out there for us to watch and the guys to photograph.


After the lighthouse, we drove to Johnson's Island, the site of a Civil War prison camp for Confederate officers, and a small graveyard. The enlisted men were imprisoned in Columbus at Chase. Officers were treated better than the enlisted men, and the death rate was much smaller.

1311 The Wedding Dress Obit

This morning there was a large article/commemorative in the Plain Dealer that included several photographs of the deceased, including a candid wedding photo of him and his bride running through a throng of well-wishers after the ceremony in 1955. As I looked at that beautiful white satin and net and tulle cloud that surrounded the bride, I thought it could be an obituary for the wedding dress.


Have you noticed what brides wear today? Their slips. Their nighties. Yes, that's what these strapless or spaghetti strapped flimsy whimsies look like to me. No style or elegance. What I wore my wedding night was blue, sexy and body clinging, but I think it had more fabric than some of the wedding gowns I see for 2005. You should be turning on the groom, not the groomsmen.



I think I remember reading somewhere that it was John Kennedy Jr's bride that changed the style to the barely there look in 1996. This wasnt the article, but google will find the same opinion:

"Carolyn's wedding dress was made from pure white silk. This simple dress was combined dress elegance, classiness, and sexiness into one knockout package. Woman began to realize a wedding dress could in fact look sexy. This was a whole new concept, never heard of before. For years most women had landed up looking like an overstuffed pilsbury dough boy on their wedding day. Narciso had accomplished in Carolyn's wedding gown what women thought to be impossible. She had been transformed into this bewitching sexy princess."

Glad I was MOB in 1993 and my daughter (a gorgeous woman, btw) had the good sense to cover up.

1310 Ottawa Indians in Ohio

When we were in Oklahoma last week, we met a young couple at breakfast who were actually from Bartlesville and enjoying a week-end at Price Tower which they'd won in a drawing at the Cultural Center. "Do you know how many Indian tribes are native to Oklahoma?" the man asked. We didn't, although we'd seen many Indian names on streets and towns and schools. He made a zero sign with his thumb and index finger.

The Plain Dealer (July 29) reported that Ottawa Tribe of Oklahoma leaders were touring western Lake Erie and visiting North Bass Island to file a law suit for hunting and fishing rights. There are almost no pure blood Ottawa Indians--they've assimilated into the larger culture. But I doubt this is about wanting to experience old tribal traditions of hunting and fishing. I'm guessing they want the right to make everyone else around here using the water and land to pay for the privilege. If the leaders are 1/32 Ottawa, they probably want a bit more than that as a percentage of the take.

Yes, what happened to their ancestors was terrible and sad. What happened to my foremothers and fathers who had to flee Europe because the Catholics and Lutherans didn't like the religion of the Anabaptists was sad too. I wonder if there is a pasture in Switzerland or Germany I can claim.

1309 Friday's Feast #57

Over at the Buffet for your Brain, aka Friday's Feast, we're asked:

Appetizer
Name 3 people whom you admire for their intelligence.
Our president, George W. Bush, is apparently a whole lot smarter than people give him credit for. The way he does what he says is certainly disarming. I really like the way the writer of Belmont Club puts his research together. I'm reading Alexander Hamilton right now, and think he was amazing.

Soup
What's the last food you tried that you really didn't care for.
It was probably hot and spicy.

Salad
If you could rename the street that you live on, what would you want it to be called?
All the streets in our area were named for the original farm homestead which was subdivided. It is very confusing and I frequently redirect service trucks. But, it is an historical connection, so I suppose I'd keep it as is.

Main Course
When was the last time you were genuinely surprised?
I'd have to say our recent (last week) trip to Arkansas and Oklahoma. The economic boom in Arkansas and the interesting cultural sites in Oklahoma caught me by surprise. I'd never been to either state.

Dessert
Share a household tip.
Spray every pan and skillet with a vegetable oil-type product before cooking. Really saves time on clean up.

1308 First Time Visitors

My husband loves to show off Lakeside, especially to first time visitors. You'd think this place was his idea, instead of an old Methodist camp ground founded in 1873. Duke and Kinga are visiting us this week-end. The guys went to high school together at Arsenal Technical High School (Indianapolis) and were members of the SLOBS, about whom I've written here. We'll rent a golf cart today and drive around and look at some of my husband's projects, and "do" the sights. There is also a Crafts show down on the lawn of the Hotel Lakeside.



Last night's entertainment was a bit different. The Sauce Boss performed sort of bluesy, blue grass, good old rock 'n roll while preparing a big pot of gumbo which was later distributed to the audience. He was also selling his secret sauce.



Here's one of my Lakeside paintings I call "Invite three friends." This isn't our porch, but is a favorite of photographers and painters. It also has a bright orange porch swing.

1307 Just another day at the office

My best stories about work were usually about body parts--but those of animals. Sweeter than Ever works with the police (not sure of her job title): "Last night after 11pm we had a stabbing, a person who was hit in the head by a baseball bat during a fight, an injured person who claimed he had broken both arms, legs, his fingers and then advised his neck also popped, but the truth of the matter was he was intoxicated, a suicidal person who had a .45 to his head and a bottle of booze in the other hand, a runaway from another town who arrived at a party and was sexually assaulted, a vehicle containing drugs and guns outside of a motel and the usual traffic stops, reckless drivers, intoxicated persons, and domestics."

Although, we also did detective work in my library. For instance. It is 20 degrees outside with a windchill of minus 15. Library patron comes up to the desk with overdue notice in hand. "I returned this journal last week--your staff missed it and probably reshelved it." So I go to the stacks. The library's temperature is about 89 degrees because our HVAC system cooked us in the winter and froze us in the summer. I find the exact volume of JAVMA that matches the overdue notice. Yes, it is on the shelf. I reach for it to take it back with me so the computer can clear the records. It is icy cold. I hold it to my hot cheeks and return to the desk and waiting patron.

1306 Chincoteague ponies

Today is the auction of the ponies that swim from Assateague to Chincoteague, Virginia. Marguerite Henry's books illustrated by Wesley Dennis were my favorite stories when I was a child--I think I read most of them, King of the Wind being my favorite. But Misty is probably her best known. I've written about my fascination with horses earlier.

When I wasn't reading about horses, I was hanging out at the local livestock dealer's barn in Forreston which was within walking distance of my home. Charlie was probably about 57 and Raymond was the same age as my dad, maybe 37 or 38. They gave me free rein of the barn. I'd go there after school or on week-ends, let myself in, climb over the stall and sit on the horses. Sometimes I'd just go in the stall and curry the horse. I was always there to see the new animals brought in--but they weren't pets or for leisure--buying and selling was their business. This part I didn't really understand as a kid. Oh sure, sell a steer or bull, but a horse? Sometimes Ray would like a particular horse and keep it for awhile, but my equine friends would be on their way when a profit was to be made.

It didn't seem to worry me that I was playing in stalls with huge animals (I was about 10 years old). Little girls who are crazy about horses must have guardian angels.

1305 Why your boss should monitor your computer use

Because I'm paying for it. Whether you work for the government, a plumber, retailer, wholesaler, big pharm, automotive, divorce lawyers or in academe, somewhere down the line I, the taxpayer and consumer and stock owner, pay. If you are surfing the internet or playing games or posting to a chat room, you're costing me money. I'll excuse you if you are self-employed or home schooling. You I won't scold if you want to read your e-mail at 10:45 a.m. or blog when the kids nap. But the rest of you, North Baltimore, South Toledo, Juneau or over the Rhine , get back to work.

1304 Intellectual freedom for thee but not me?

IFFORUM [Intellectual Freedom Forum] is an unmoderated forum for the discussion of intellectual freedom issues among librarians. Apparently some people (probably fearing for their professional future) choose to write with pseudonyms, so a Mr. Berry [the site has no description] has come up with a new proposal:

"Since propagandists from the right wing, most of them anonymous, or pseudonymous are most of what is posted on IFForum, and are driving library intellectual freedom fighters elsewhere, it is time to change to rules for IFForum.; There is no reason for ALA to continue to support the broadcasting of propaganda by unnamed sources. When these sources engage in ad hominem attacks it may even put ALA in danger of litigation for libel. To solve the problem, why not make it a rule that all posters must identify themselves, by name, address, phone number, true e-mail address, and indicate whether or not they are members of ALA. They need not be denied the right to post on IFFORUM, but there is no reason ALA should bear the cost of their anonymous and pseudonymous ravings. Thus this would place no restraint on their freedom of expression on lIFFORUM, but it would make them accountable for their posting, and tell us who they are, and which of them has an ALA membership or doesn't. Please post what is wrong with this proposal."

I don’t read this forum, and have no idea what this flap is about. But "no restraint on freedom of expression?" I am a bit surprised that there are enough “right wing” librarians to even fill a closet. I read about this at Tomeboy.

If the comment is from the left (i.e., most librarians) it is apparently reasoned and fair, being written by a “freedom fighter“; if it is from the right it is a threat, an attack and placing ALA in danger of litigation for libel. The problem is, acknowledging who you are is no problem in ALA land--as long as you aren’t conservative. This is the group that had Michael Moore’s film at their 2004 meeting, becomes apoplectic at the mention of George W. Bush and fight filters on library computers because someone might miss an item on breast cancer while discouraging the child molesters and porn lurkers.

I’m thinking along these lines--and I haven’t a clue who she is. When kooks dominate a listserv or Usenet board, you delete them or block them. There’s an anarchist who posts at LISNews.com and I just choose not to read her/him. The ones who post as "anonymous" should choose a pseudonym so we can tell their posts apart. I also don't respond to them if they are too lazy to make up a name.

1303 You have what?

Seen at Paula's site, and Doyle's.

1302 Girl in love, fishing

My neighbor mentioned that she hadn't seen my daughter last week. My son-in-law she saw on his way down to the dock to fish. "Oh, she was in the house reading," I told her. I think she mentioned she had finished 3 books and they hadn't gone to any of the programs. Before they were married, she fished too. Here's proof. I painted this from a photo of her taken the summer before they married. I doubt if she's picked up a pole since.

Basics of Blogging

This morning I'll be teaching a Basics of Blogging class at the local coffee shop, Coffee 'n Cream, which is the only place around here with a free wi-fi connection. I learned this morning that the laptop hoards blew the power last week, so it looks like we'll need to all be battery powered. I'd intended to do that for myself anyway, because it is also storming, and last fall I wiped out everything on this computer somehow. However, because of the stormy weather, I don't want to leave it plugged in to build up the battery.

I'll use a little advice passed along by Anvilcloud about saving my template revisions in txt file rather than wp file; I'm checking out some possible URLs that haven't been used so we can move quickly from setting up the account to actually creating a post. A few I selected were already used, but I also found abandoned ones that have never been pulled. If you haven't blogged since 2001, it's time to delete the blog. Yesterday I googled "blogspot template" and found quite a few. I'm a bit bored with the 20 or so offerings at blogger.com, but to get them started they'll be OK.

The Rhein Center assistant told me 3 people had signed up, but that means nothing here. I selected 9 a.m. because the regular arts and crafts and morning lectures all start at 10 a.m. We'll see if anyone shows up.

Update:Four brave Lakesiders showed up, three men and one woman, but we only had two computers. So John has set up his blog called Soar Ahead and if Bill comes back we'll work on his. He wasn't really sure he had anything to post, but I saw some great photos of grandchildren, and blogger.com has now really simplified uploading photographs. Carol has the house tour tomorrow, but may come back on Friday. My neighbor's brother popped up to say he'd stop by tomorrow, and there is a guy from Dublin, OH who wants to set up a business blog.

"Older learners" get discouraged easily. We all miss the quick and easy way we learned as kids, so suck it up folks and plod on. Hear it, see it, say it, do it. That's how we learn--if we are over 25.

1300 Lakeside Week 5

It stormed last night, so perhaps things will cool off. I feel sorry for all those families with small children who tried to enjoy their vacation last week in cottages with no AC. I see the house across the street is for rent--can't remember seeing that in the last 3 years. However, a large crowd braved the heat last night to hear Dave Bennett's Tribute to Benny Goodman. This guy is 20 years old and is incredible. Hoover seats about 3,000 and I think it was half full, unusual for a Tuesday, and incredible considering the heat. When he started Poor Butterfly, I thought I'd cry, and he got a standing ovation for Sing, Sing, Sing. He doesn't seem to have a web site, but I see he is on the list of many concert series, including the Columbus Symphony Orchestra. Several times during the hot evening someone would hollar, "Take off your coat," but that would have taken him out of character, so he braved the heat in a double breasted dark suit, as did the fabulous band.

1299 On to Tulsa [Sunday]

On our way to Tulsa where we would catch our flight home, we stopped for 90 minutes at a jewel of an art museum, The Gilcrease. I would say it is a secret, but obviously since there was a crowd on Sunday morning, it isn't. It is famous for its collection of western art, including a fascinating collection of Indian artifacts. There wasn't enough time to see everything, so I stuck with the western art. I stopped at the room devoted to Thomas Gilcrease, and learned his mother was a Creek Indian so he was entitled to some acreage of the tribal land. He was a good business man and got into oil. While touring Europe he visited museums and got the idea to collect American western art, which not many were doing at that time. When his personal fortunes plunged with an oil bust, his collection was quite large and valuable. Rather than lose it to other collectors, the city bought his personal museum and collection. The museum also has unusual and themed gardens, but the heat prevented my taking advantage of that. I stood next to a large rock for a photo and could've fried and egg on it.

Our tour plan included a drive by photo op of the Richard Lloyd Jones Residence designed by Frank Lloyd Wright in Tulsa, OK. Jones was his cousin and a newspaper editor, and he lived in the house (built in 1929) until his death at 90. The house is huge--10,000 sq. ft. on 4 acres. Privately owned, it is NOT open for tours.

We also drove through the Oral Roberts University which may win a prize for the ugliest, most ostentatious architecture in the USA (just my opinion). We said good-bye to our capable, knowledgeable driver at the airport and while checking in discovered our plane would be about an hour and 15 minutes late making it virtually impossible to catch our flight out of Detroit to Columbus. But they held the plane for us while we galloped through that massive airport in Detroit, and we settled in for a quick hop home.

It was a fabulous trip, and now we're back at Lakeside.

1298 Other Bartlesville sites [Saturday]

As I mentioned before, in the morning we met in the lobby and walked to the Bartlesville Community Center designed by William Wesley Peters (1912-1991), a sharp (or round) contrast of curves, circles, and ovals. For a small town of 35,000 Bartlesville has a wonderful musical and artistic life. It is the home of OK Mozart established in 1985, and many home-grown and out-of-town shows. The 1800 seat theater is marvelous.

Next we toured the art museum which is in the Price Tower. In addition to many Wrightean displays of furniture, there was a visiting photographic exhibit of architectural photography. Then it was back on the bus. We had lunch at a locally renowned restaurant, Dink's Pit Bar-B-Que(really yummy), that our driver Bob knew about (local boy from Fort Smith). Then we set out to see if we could spot another home designed by Wright for Price's son, but the current owners don't allow visitors.

More welcoming was the the director of operations at Oklahoma Weslyan College where we toured La Quinta Mansion, a home built in the 1930s for another oilman, H.V. Foster. He made his money in oil leases with the Osage Indians. However, it was only used briefly as a home, and since 1939 has been the main building of several different schools, OWC being the most recent (a holiness denominational college). I was particularly interested in this tour because it housed the library collection (really poor and dated in my opinion) and they were shifting it to allow the mansion to be restored in certain areas. Having shifted probably over 100,000 volumes in my library career for either dumping, wall painting or title changes, I could empathize.
Next we toured the Frank Phillips Home. It was modest as mansions go (26 rooms), but the Phillips (as in Phillips 66) had two other homes. The grounds, which included a four car garage with a museum and servant quarters and a greenhouse, were lovely. It had remained in the Phillips family a long time, but is now maintained by the historical society.

I don't know what you would have done after a day of touring in 100+ degree heat, but I went back to our fabulous FLW room and took a nap to prepare for our lovely night out (actually up, to the 15th floor) at the Copper Restaurant + Bar. Our three tables of congenial tour friends enjoyed a dinner of salmon and chicken on rice and a chocolate dessert that was to die for. If you are ever in Bartlesville, this is the place to eat, trust me.

1297 Our Tour Group

Our tour group at the Mildred B. Cooper Memorial Chapel, Bella Vista, Arkansas

1296 Bartlesville and Frank Lloyd Wright [Friday]

As we drove into Missouri to get a better road, the "boomtown" atmosphere of NW Arkansas disappeared as did the ubiquitous Wal-Mart Superstores (I did not see any other place to buy groceries). Oklahoma flattened out and we tried to remember the words of the song when we started seeing cornfields. At 6 p.m. we rolled through Vinita, and the temperature sign said 106--and that was not the heat index, but the temp. Because my family drove to California on Rt. 66 in the 1940s, it's possible this was my second visit to Vinita.

The hot, tired Ohio travelers became quite energized as we saw the Price Tower over the trees of Bartlesville, Oklahoma, home and headquarters of Phillips 66. With its green copper louvers and peculiar triangular shape, it is every bit as impressive as the magazines have reported. If you've got the time here is a really brief video clip--and our hotel room looked exactly like that as did our dinner at the Copper Restaurant. Wright actually envisioned this building for Manhattan in 1925 as a multi-use site--shops, housing and work, but it was not realized. At the end of his career, he had the opportunity to have his dream built--like a tall tree in the rolling hills of eastern Oklahoma. (For some great photos see the June 2003 Architectural Digest.) The building was completed in 1956 for client H.C. Price. The building was purchased by the Phillips Petroleum Company in the 80s, and recently restored as an inn, restaurant and art museum.

And we crazies who fly and drive around in 100 degree+ heat looking at buildings had the thrill to actually spend two nights in a Wright building. There are 21 high-design guest rooms and suites, with all the interiors done by Wendy Evans Joseph. If they find someone with deep pockets, maybe we'll go back someday to see the expanded art museum by Zaha Hadid. After unpacking and settling in our rooms, we went to Patsy's "hospitality suite" for snacks, wine and cheese, and lots of laughs. She plans these trips and always does a wonderful job.

In the morning we met in the lobby and walked to the Bartlesville Community Center designed by William Wesley Peters (1912-1991), a sharp (or round) contrast of curves, circles, and ovals.