Lake Erie Living, first anniversary issue

Lakesiders! Pay attention. There's a beautiful article with great photos of the Drackett home on the lakefront. If you vacation there, you've walked past it many times and probably wondered what it looks like inside. There's also an inset on the lovely lilies you see along the shore in that area.

If your cottage or vacation spot is the Put-in-Bay area, you will enjoy the article on Rattlesnake Island, which is about 2 miles west. It is a private retreat and summer playround of 85 acres--but it is for a very exclusive group and it's tough to join this club.

On the newstand, Lake Erie Living is $3.95, and a year's subscription (6 issues + travel guide) is $17.95.

Blue Planet in Green Shackles

is the name of Vaclav Klaus', the Czech president, new book. He is a vocal opponent of anthropogenic (man made) climate change. He says Environmentalism is a religion which threatens freedom, democracy and prosperity and it belongs in the social sciences with other "isms" such as communism, feminism, and liberalism. You can listen to his speech at the National Press Club here, on May 27 in Washington DC, or if you have a problem with accents, you can read the transcript. Listen to him. He has lived under the totalitarian regime of the Communists. He knows all the signals and signs. We're there, folks. He says,

My today’s thinking is substantially influenced by the fact that I spent most of my life under the communist regime which ignored and brutally violated human freedom and wanted to command not only the people but also the nature. To command “wind and rain” is one of the famous slogans I remember since my childhood. . .

The name of the new danger will undoubtedly be different, but its substance will be very similar. There will be the same attractive, to a great extent pathetic and at first sight quasi-noble idea that transcends the individual in the name of something above him, (of something greater than his poor self), supplemented by enormous self-confidence on the side of those who stand behind it. Like their predecessors, they will be certain that they have the right to sacrifice man and his freedom to make their idea reality. . . This time in the name of the planet.

Summer time in the 1940s and 1950s

This is from a post I wrote about a year ago. It's easy to romanticize the past, but it does seem that today's youngsters are missing something. Free time? Perhaps we didn't have as much as it seems, at least not if you had my mother.

Yesterday the WSJ ran a parenting article about overscheduling children in their summer activities. In my mind's eye I replayed the dozen or so summers I remember when I was a child--they seemed to run forever--hot, hazy and relaxed with hours of finding shapes in the clouds and bugs in the grass and bubbles in the tarred streets for bare toes.

At first I couldn't imagine my mother managing my summers for me, but looking back I realize she was quietly (she was always quietly doing something) planning my schedule. In Forreston I attended summer recreation program at the community school for games, swimming and sports. From age 11-16 I attended summer camp at Camp Emmaus. In elementary school I had babysitting jobs; in high school I detasseled corn, worked at the drug store, at a feed company and the town library. I had a horse, or my friends did, and we rode them down hot, dusty roads. After age 14 I was dating and going on picnics at the Pines, to the roller rink, to movies out of town and locally. My church CBYF had weekly Sunday evening meetings; my girl friends and I had slumber parties; the town had summer band concerts (still does) where you bought bags of popcorn and hoped to see someone special even if you didn't hear a note; and there were 4-H projects to get ready for the county fair. And the projects Mom would invent to keep us busy! Gardening, canning, cleaning, cooking, sewing, laundry. Oh my! That could cut into a sleepy summer day's reading.

Girl Scouts, Barb, Norma, Sara and Nancy, ready to ride our bikes to camp
Update: I just noticed something in this photo, which is probably from 1952 or 1953. My bike is the only one with "standard handle bars" and the other three have the flared shape, which I always thought were from the late 1960s or early 1970s. I still use a bike with this type of handle bar.

Summer? What's that?

The life of an on-line instructor apparently doesn't include summer break. This is from Rate Your Students, a really entertaining and informative blog about all levels of education, students and instructors. Good solid writing, lots of humor and sarcasm

"Summer? Your old fashioned notions of academic life having a seasonal rhythm are so quaint. As an online instructor teaching non-trads at a school with classes starting every month, I don't have summer. I don't have winter. Or Christmas. I never go to class, but I never don't have class. I can go to the archives in Bananastan whenever I want and teach from the Internet café in the evening. I can take any day off I want to take a day trip with the kids. I can go to conferences anywhere at any time without groveling to the department and rescheduling classes for dozens of knowledge-starved students. I just teach online from the hotel. But I can never take three days in a row off. Ever. I cannot - ever - leave the Internet. My university posts an automatic e-mail message to me, my department head, and the dean if I do not log in to class within 72 hours of my last log in. If I wait that long, the stack of e-mails and unanswered conference queries would be overwhelming anyway. Every month is grades month. Every month is "new syllabi" month. Every month is right in the middle of the term, with discussions to take part in, papers to grade and tests to do in several classes. To reach U.S. median income I need to have at least five or six going at any one time, enough to prevent any month or season from bringing significant differences in workload. July is just like January."

Mother's Ham Loaf

In honor of my mother's birthday, I'm going to share her wonderful Ham Loaf/meatball recipe. When there was a church dinner, this is what everyone wanted. I'm making it today, but I've reduced the portions a bit--and the mix I got is beef, pork and veal--so who knows what it will taste like with no ham in the ham loaf! I'm sure it's the ham that makes it yummy.

1/2 lb. ground veal
1 lb. ground smoked ham
1 1/2 lb. ground fresh pork
1 cup bread or cracker crumbs
1 cup milk
2 eggs

Have the 3 meats ground together; combine with crumbs, milk and eggs and shape into a loaf. Make a sauce of 1 cup brown sugar, 1/2 tsp. mustard, 1/2 cup diluted vinegar and pour over the loaf. Bake at 350 degrees for 1.5 hours. Baste frequently with the sauce.

Alternate idea: Instead of sauce, fold into the meat mixture 1/3 cup crushed pineapple, 1/2 tsp. mustard and 2 Tbsp. brown sugar. Serves 8.

This is in the family recipe book, "Taste the Memories," which I created for our 1993 family reunion.

Also from the cook book:
Mrs. Felker's coffee cake
Aunt Dorothy's Taco Salad
Julie's Vegetable Lasagna
Norma's Sweet Sour Meat Loaf
13 cookbooks on my shelves

And you think I'm harsh?

Annoyed Librarian has a word for new graduates hunting for those elusive shortages they heard about when they signed on for more college debt. Don't blame the boomers for not retiring.

Since I have been drawing attention to this issue for a couple of years, I feel comfortable pointing out some uncomfortable truths to complaining job seekers. The most uncomfortable truth is that nobody owes you a job. If you went to library school because you were told jobs were plentiful, then you were duped. That's too bad, but it wasn't the libraries that aren't hiring you now that duped you. Library schools benefited from your tuition. The ALA probably benefited from some dues money. Libraries seem to benefit by not having to pay much because there are plenty of suckers lined up to take sucky jobs. You're the only one that didn't benefit. Three out of four's not bad.

Actually, it's probably not a good idea to believe anything you hear about shortages--nurses, lawyers, cruise directors, computer programmers--because those come from the press releases of college recruiting offices, and they have an obligation to fill the classrooms. What I remember from the days I was on search committee duty is that there were usually one or possibly two really outstanding candidates in a pile of 25 resumes, and by the time we'd work our way through our own red tape and diversity rules, someone else had snatched them. There really are excellent jobs and excellent candidates, and somehow, they often find each other. Matthew says he knows of good jobs in Florida (I think); he's also single, a devout Roman Catholic and has been a nurse. Someone ought to snatch him up.

Happy May Birthday

Happy Birthday
by Norma Bruce
May 27, 2008

If I were nostalgic
I’d write a maudlin note
to wish you many more
or something quite from rote.

If I were sentimental
or just a little sappy
I’d fill a few balloons
for a birthday Oh so happy.

If I were to be kind
and love you as friend
I’d wish for you good health,
that everything would mend.

Instead I’ll ask the Lord of gifts
to fill you with his love
to keep you steadfast to that day
when we all meet above.

The Obama Campaign

As slick and vacuous as an SUV commercial, or something like that. It's rare that a Progressive and I would be singing the same tune, but I can't find much wrong with this assessment of Obama. And I know just how he feels about sitting out the campaign.

He struck me then as a vacuous opportunist, a good performer with an ear for how to make white liberals like him.

The Obama campaign has even put out a misleading bio of Michelle Obama, representing her as having grown up in poverty on the South Side, when, in fact, her parents were city workers, and her father was a Daley machine precinct captain.

. . . they present their candidate as a figure who transcends racial divisions and “brings us together”; on the other hand, they exhort us that we should support his candidacy because of the opportunity to “make history” (presumably by nominating and maybe electing a black candidate). Increasingly, Obama supporters have been disposed to cry foul and charge racism at nearly any criticism of him, in steadily more extravagant rhetoric.

Obama’s campaign, in stressing his appeal to rapturous children and liberal, glamorous yuppies, offers vicarious identification with these groups, as well as the chance to become sort of black in that ultra-safe and familiar theme park way.

And so on.

To fill your gas tank

isn't the only issue, although you'd think so if you listened to the news. We've returned to Columbus from Lakeside, and yes, paying $3.99 for gasoline on the peninsula (it was $3.83 in Columbus and $4.25 in Toledo) wasn't fun. But we were also driving on asphalt roads, and the upholstery, windshield wipers, brake fluid and sun visors not to mention the battery case, bumpers, antifreeze, lubricants, hoses, tires, and wire coating of my van were also from petroleum products. And I brought along my computer, chewed gum and dabbed on a little Vasoline. Yes, we heat our homes and fuel our cars, but we also use petroleum in hundreds of products. We can't even imagine our lives without it. But some can. Yes, they scream alarmist warnings, make-up phony carbon footprints, but they really want us to go without.

One of the most striking things about the photos of the earthquake in China, was the obvious growth in consumer goods we saw. Even in rural China, which used to be a wasteland for modern products and technology, now appears to definitely be experiencing a high standard of living that even 5 or 10 years ago would have been unthinkable. Their relief effort and management was incredible--much of it done with modern products made from petroleum. We are millions; China and India are billions. Our energy needs have flattened; theirs is growing at a phenomenal rate. All the 'green' talk barking at us from the TV, magazines and Democrats is one of two options--a marketing scheme to tear down our current infrastructure and housing, starting over at even higher energy costs, particularly for the poor, or an effort to force us all return to an 18th century standard of living through regulatory agencies we haven't elected. Your move.

Short list: Ammonia, Anesthetics, Antihistamines, Artificial limbs, Artificial Turf, Antiseptics, Aspirin, Auto Parts, Awnings, Balloons, Ballpoint pens, Bandages, Beach Umbrellas, Boats, Cameras, Candles, Car Battery Cases, Carpets, Caulking, Combs, Cortisones, Cosmetics, Crayons, Credit Cards, Curtains, Deodorants, Detergents, Dice, Disposable Diapers, Dolls, Dyes, Eye Glasses, Electrical Wiring Insulation, Faucet Washers, Fishing Rods, Fishing Line, Fishing Lures, Food Preservatives, Food Packaging, Garden Hose, Glue, Hair Coloring, Hair Curlers, Hand Lotion, Hearing Aids, Heart Valves, Ink, Insect Repellant, Insecticides, Linoleum, Lip Stick, Milk Jugs, Nail Polish, Oil Filters, Panty Hose, Perfume, Petroleum Jelly, Rubber Cement, Rubbing Alcohol, Shampoo, Shaving Cream, Shoes, Toothpaste, Trash Bags, Upholstery, Vitamin Capsules, Water Pipes, Yarn

Monday Memories--the treasure found and lost, and found again

On Memorial Day week-end here at Lakeside, many families have yard sales (for the most part, we have no garages or basements). Some street corners will have four. So it is fun to walk or ride around and poke through musty boxes or old treasures. I was riding my no-speed bike (now 40 years old) down Third and whizzed past a card table with a few items, and there I saw it--a memory from my childhood. I put on the brakes and turned around.



My neighbor, Mike, and I were probably about four or five years old and poking through the neighborhood trash cans when we saw a lovely (or looked that way to us) brown china tea pot painted with white and orange dots trimmed in gold). We carefully lifted our treasure out, wiped it off, and I took it home to my mother. She turned it over looked at the gold painted single word on the bottom, JAPAN, and told us it had to go back to the trash can. We didn't understand war; we didn't know how to read; both our fathers were in the military. All we knew was that our treasure was something awful to adults. Suitable only for the trash.

I picked the tea pot up from the card table, inspected it--covered with dust with a hairline crack near the spout. The owner came out of the house.
"How much for this tea pot?"
"One dollar."
"I'll take it," I said.I wrapped it in a plastic bag and continued on my bike ride. Later I washed it and showed it to my neighbor, Steve, who is an antique dealer and auctioneer. He confirmed that it was probably a pre-WWII tea pot, maybe 1930s, very common. A dollar, he said, was a good price for a childhood memory. I put it on my bookshelf. It can hold some flowers when the time comes for that.

Our New Grill

About 10 years ago, our son-in-law once removed Pete (brother of our SIL) gave us a rehabbed grill that he found at the curb. It was really nice and he worked hard on it--looked brand new. However, we rarely grill and our deck which we love to use for "eating out" is rather small. And the grill was. . . large. So a few years ago we loaned it to a neighbor who has a lot of company, a large cottage, and many cookouts. Now we have no grill unless we want to go to the neighbors and clean it. So we've bought a cute little Blue Rhino at Lowe's for about $30 and hope it will make our kids happy, because they like to grill. For us, it makes for very expensive bratwurst. My husband is skipping church at the auditorium this morning with all the gazillion pieces parts laid out on the porch floor. Something is missing for the grease pan. And I'm not sure of the English skills of the committee that wrote the instructions. But Eric and Sharon are coming for lunch, and he's an engineer. Perhaps the two guys will figure this out and Sharon and I will take a walk along the lakefront.

A Hymn for the Campaign

This hymn has been used in presidential campaigns for at least 200 years--or for however long the Democrats have been running. It works for Republicans too, since campaigns are about promises not kept. You only need to change the words a little depending on the syllables in the candidate's surname [I made up that whole introduction, but the next sentence is true]. It's in 4/4 time, one flat. The tune name is Pleading Savior.

Come You Voters poor and needy,
Rich and wealthy, sick and sore;
Obama wants to save you
full of pity, you're so poor.
He's not able, he's not able,
But he's willing, doubt no more.

Now, you voters, come and welcome
his free bounty glorify
True believer it is ignorance
Every myth that brings you nigh,
With your money, with your money
To Obama lies to buy.

Come you voters oh so weary,
Bruised and battered, hit the wall--
If you tarry till you're smarter
You will never come at all;
You can't count on hope and change
So it's Obama in the fall.

Liberals are so predictable

No one allowed in their clubhouse without a pass.

A Maine public relations firm has been tapped to assist a grassroots effort aimed at stopping George W. Bush's presidential library, museum and think tank from being built at Southern Methodist University in Dallas.

The Rev. Andrew Weaver, an SMU graduate from New York, says P&S Associates of Maine LLC has been hired to design ads and to coordinate the effort.

Bush, of course, is a Methodist, a former governor of Texas, and his wife a librarian. But librarians are 223:1 Democrat to Republican, so they consider it an outrage and anathema that a Bush Library be built--at all. Must be something evil afoot. They tried to stage a walk-out when Laura was invited to ALA. NIMBY! I wonder just who is in this "grassroots effort?" Moveon.org? Michael Moore? Or just the usual ALA crowd and liberal preachers.

Sticker shock

Yes, you can vacation closer to home and help the local economy, but for those of us who own property in Lakeside, the first week-end when we buy our passes is always a killer. I just spent $967 for 2 adult passes and a car pass for the season. Those of you who come here for the occasional week or week-end seem to think that if we own property, we don't pay. We pay much more than the visitors, because we pay the association dues (like a condo, we don't own the land on which our cottage sits), the confiscatory real estate taxes of the township (we are their golden goose), and we also buy passes and car passes which get us in and out the gates and into the auditorium to see the programs. This year, because of our trip to Italy, we'll only be here part of the season. And then there's the maintenance, upkeep and utilities which goes on for 12 months, not just the season. There is really no way to make a vacation home pay--unless you sold it 2 or 3 years ago at the peak of appreciation. You have to want it for other reasons--the community of friends, the beauty, the programming, or the accessibility. We've been vacationing here since 1974 and have been owners since 1988--20 years. Each year I run through all the reasons we do this. . . so that's what this is. . . the reasons we do this.

Tonight's program is Mike Albert, an Elvis impersonator. I never really cared much for Elvis when I was a kid, but Mike has helped me with that. This will probably be the 6th time I've seen his show. Of all the Elvi that have appeared over the years, he is the best in my opinion. He does a lot of shows in the midwest, so if you ever have the opportunity, don't miss him.

This morning I had a wonderful cup of coffee at Coffee and Cream, read the paper, then stopped across the street at the Patio to join my husband and neighbors Bill and Marilyn who were having breakfast. We chatted with Brent--this is his 18th year of owning the Patio. We reminisced about the night it burned down. My husband has a nice art show there, and prints and a few originals at Artists-in-Kahoots up the street.

Last night we had dinner again at Evelyn's. Oh, you're going to love this place. Fabulous dinners, and desserts to die for. Evelyn's will be staying open to serve dessert after the programs. I've had the carrot cake, my husband the chocolate torte. My goodness. Don't miss this treat. This is their first season as Lakesiders and business people (here), so be kind and support them. We want them to stay!

Hymns for Memorial Day Observance

So many people stopped by (according to site meter) to see my list, which only referred to another blog I'd written, that I decided to add them here. This blog is way up on google's list, and the other one isn't, so people get here first. This list is from The Methodist Hymnal (1964).

Eternal Father, strong to save

Father eternal, Ruler of creation

For the might of thine arm

God of grace and God of glory

God of our father

God, the Omnipotent

Judge eternal, throned in splendor

Lord, while for all mankind we pray

Mine eyes have seen the glory

My country, 'tis of thee

Not alone for might empire

Now praise we great and famous men

O God of earth and altar

O Lord, our fathers oft have told

These things shall be

This is my song

Turn back, O man

If it bores me

imagine how the poor news readers must feel. I don't watch much TV at home, but here at the lake where we don't have cable, for some reason the TV is on more. All I've heard or seen is Harrison Ford, American Idol and the spike in gasoline prices which in Toledo, the home base of most of the stations is at an eye-popping $4.25. It's $3.95 or $3.99 here on the peninsula. But really, how do people stand reporting this level of mindless made up news when there are really important things like manipulated elections, sneaky, dishonest lies about the environment, and the temperature of Lake Erie to talk about?

This is the kind of news that makes one grateful for PBS, and Canadian TV.

Taking and making offense

I see the liberals are trying to saddle McCain with two preachers who aren't and weren't his pastor. If they've come out for McCain, I'm guessing it's because there is no viable alternative. If there's ever been anything said about politics in my church (UALC), it must have been the singing of God Bless America the evening of 9/11 when we gathered for prayer. Political activism is a tradition in black churches, and that's Parsley's style, although he's white. I haven't read offensive things in his latest book, so perhaps it's a little proof texting and out of context clipping. Columbus liberal mainline pastors tried to gang up on him during the last election and made fools of themselves.

But, here's a great quote from GK Chesterton which I found this morning researching the hymns suitable for Memorial Day which explains how to do the type of insult and offense stuff we read these days (and 100 years ago when he was writing).

The tone of the story (as of every Chesterton story) is strongly affected by the exuberant style of the author. There is a scene in a restaurant, where the protagonist has the task of delaying another man for a few hours, and decides to pick a quarrel with him in order to do so. A musician is playing something by Wagner in the background. He approaches the other man's table and is about to attack him. The man's companions hold him back, but he cries out,

"This man has insulted my mother!"
"Insulted your mother? What are you talking about?"
"Well, any way, my aunt."
"How could he have insulted your aunt. We have just been sitting here talking."
"Ah, it was what he said just now."
"All I said was that I liked Wagner played well."
"Aha! My aunt played Wagner badly. It is a very tender point with our family. We are always being insulted over it."

Hymns for Memorial Day

There's a list at my other, other blog.

13 ways to burn calories if you're a coupon queen

Today's Cranky Consumer in the Wall St. Journal reviews "best sites for coupon clipping" and reports only 1% of coupons are ever redeemed. Coupons, sweepstakes, rebates and loyalty cards are all part of the same marketing program to convince buyers that producers want them to save money. The original coupon (over 100 years ago) was a wooden nickle. Now many of them look like credit cards or you can spend even more by printing them off the internet. Here's some exercises to burn calories while you "save."

1. Exercise discretion (125)
2. Jump on the bandwagon (75)
3. Push your luck (80)
4. Race against the expiration date (100)
5. Fish for coupons in your purse (35)
6. Stuff the envelope (30)
7. Hunt for stamps (55)
8. Jog your memory for the offer (75)
9. Run around after specials (350)
10. Chase bargains (250)
11. Fly off the handle at the store manager (250)
12. Wade through the paperwork (100)
13. Grab the last offer (100)

Coupons don't cut your costs; they cover price increases, introduce new products and try to put the competition out of business so they can raise prices later.

The Democrats are Golden

They've got the touch. They touch it; the price goes up.

When President Bush took office in 2001, the price of oil was around $30 a barrel. Six years later the price had doubled. Democrats promised voters they had “a common sense plan to help bring down skyrocketing gas prices.” On October 20, 2006, just before the Democrats took over Congress, a barrel of oil was about $57.

So, how is the Democrat’s “common sense plan” working? In the six years before they took control, oil increased an average of about $5 a year. But in the 16 months the Democrats have been responsible for the nation’s energy policy, the price of oil has risen to $126 — an increase of almost $70 a barrel or $5 each month.

If I had a choice, I’d take $5 a year over $5 a month. Meanwhile, gas prices on the Democrat’s watch went from $2.20 a gallon to $3.67, an increase of almost 10 cents a month. The Democrat’s plan isn’t working, unless their plan was to decrease our dependence on oil by making it so expensive we can’t afford to buy it. Continue reading Charles Reichley

And now they want to elect the guy who will only make it worse. I think it's the same thinking that keeps the poor and minorities trapped in the major cities, all of which have Democrats running them. Vote for us. We'll take care of you. You'll be so poor, no one else will want you!