Spring Watch

   ‘Spring watch’ for me usually begins during the third or fourth week of January, depending upon the weather. Often during this period we will have a thaw that acts as a bit of a tease. The snow begins to melt off the roof, neighbors take their cars to the car wash and the Johnny Seeds catalogue arrives in the mail. I begin to watch the increasing amount of daylight announced on the weather forecast each evening and then race to the window to make sure it is really happening.

     But within a few short hours the harsh reality returns that winter is not yet over as the next major storm blows though dropping a mere ten more inches on top of that which is already on the ground. The warm breezes of the previous several days are replace by chilly blasts of arctic cold. The early morning news broadcasts announce another closing of school.  At least the kids are happy.

     Wintery February days seems to pass at a snails pace in anticipation of the coming season. There are forty more minutes of daylight.  The seed order has arrived and there is talk about the upcoming Red Sox season. The state basketball tournament is history. All this helps to pass the time. With the arrival of March there is a renewed enthusiasm that spring is just around the corner and although March 20 signals its first official day, there are already many unofficial signs.

     The days of March seem endless. It may be raining today and surely that will help melt the snow.  The roads are covered with dirt and sand from the winter storms.  Most of that sand seems to be on the grass in my front yard, a sign of some spring yard cleanup. 

     So what are the signs of spring in northern New England?  By now there are over two hours of increases daylight and we have set the clocks ahead for daylight savings time soon. Opening day at Fenway is scheduled for April3. (Is it really the Yankees this year?) The seeds I had planted are beginning to show signs of life.  I can get the morning paper at the end of the driveway without having to put on a winter coat and I can walk cautiously across the front lawn, picking my steps carefully as not to leave my shoes stuck in the mud.

     But the sure sign of spring is that the neighborhood is coming alive as people are out and about, just like me. They walk up and down the streets each evening or early on Saturday morning and offer a friendly “hello” and a wave. The heavy winter coats and boots have given way to the brightly colored fleece and sneakers. Oh yes, there is also a smile of accomplishment on each face as deep down inside we know that we made it through another Maine winter.

          I just hope that Mother Mature doesn’t play an April Fools’ joke on us again, although.........it doesn't sound good for Saturday!!!!!.

It was kind of a sad moment.....

   We had been back from our trip about two weeks. I went to the freezer to find there were only two bagels left, bagels we had brought back from New Jersey. The morning we left to return home to Maine, even before the stop at the gas station, the first place was the local bagel shop.

   Growing up in New Jersey also meant growing up with some of the best bagels on the planet. True. One can purchase them in many different flavors, from either the frozen food shelf or the bakery section of the grocery store. But there is no better experience than walking into the local bagel shop, with the air filled with the smell of freshly baked bagels and being tempted to reach into the warm bag and biting into one of those warm,, tasty morsels even before getting out the door.

   My favorites tend to be the more traditional, plain, sesame seed. poppy seed (although never before going to meet someone) and blueberry. Every once a a while, I will add one or two, made of different dough , perhaps rye or whole grain. Whole grain is suppose to be better for you, right? But my favorite is still the plain one.

Back in the car, it was only a minute or two before the car was filled with the luscious aroma and even the dog took an interest in the bag, nose working hard to locate the smell, but now the bag was safely out of his reach and ours too, at least until we got home.

   For me, bagels have always been a popular addition to morning breakfast. Come to think of it, they are good just about anytime of the time. Whether fresh from the toaster and drenched in melting butter, or coated in cream cheese or just plan, the dense and chewy interior, wrapped with a crisp exterior often 'hits the spot' for a morning, afternoon or evening snack.

   Traditionally, bagels are shaped by hand in the form of a ring or circle and made from yeast dough. What makes them special is that they are boiled for a short time before being placed in the oven. I am not sure if the ones purchased from the freezer of your local grocery store are prepared in the same 'traditional' way. Size wise, they are much smaller, and in this case, size does matter!

   Historically, bagels first appeared in the early 1600's in Poland and it was not long before this rich and doughy pastry became part of the Polish diet and within a few decades its popularity rolled through Europe.

   Entry into the United States market occurred as Polish- Jewish immigrants moved from Europe to New York City. Bagel shops and an entirely new industry quickly spread across the city under the control and watchful eye of the Bagel Bakers Local 338, carefully maintaining its tradition of yeast dough and 'hand made'.

   Later companies would experiment and expand the bagel's popularity with automated techniques for mass production and before long, the bagel found its way into plastic packaging and the freezers of you local store.

    On this particular morning, nearly two weeks after returning home, we would finish the last two bagels. A sad moment. Yes. They were in the freezer to keep the somewhat fresh, but these were still the real thing, a crisp exterior, a doughy and chewy interior and ones that were not pre-cut, but required skillful hands or the use of the 'family bagel knife', the one passed down through generations, to split into two pieces in order to fit neatly into the toaster. No microwave here. The toaster will do just fine. And the butter and cream cheese were already in place on the counter along with a glass of orange juice and a freshly brewed cup of coffee. Almost heaven!

   We will be heading to Jersey again sometime soon and will make the familiar stop at the local bagel shop. But if anyone is coming to Maine this summer, a 'couple dozen' freshly baked bagels will always be welcomed at our house. And go ahead. Mix them up, but be sure to include a couple of plain ones too! I'll supply the butter and cream cheese.

   Did you know......'Bagel' is a Yeshivish term for sleeping 12 hours straight. “I slept a bagel last night.” Its origin may be traced to the fact that the hour hand on a clock moves in the shape of a bagel over the course of twelve hours. I knew there was a reason why I liked bagels!!

So where do you hang out?

   Most of us go through life with a daily routine and generally are not aware of the other things going on around us. Yes, we sense there are other people there, but we focus only on ourselves and the task at hand.

   Most of us live or life by getting lost in our work each day,may join a club or activity that involves people and the interaction with others. But as we get older and in my case retirement, our life changes. The time we looked forward to now takes on a new excitement and... fear. Who will I have to talk to?

   The loss of a spouse or family member at anytime is difficult, but living alone at an older age can be can be frightening. Look at the growing industry of Assisted living centers. Even if a spouse is still alive, the shift to retirement can be difficult. Going to work every day got one out of the house and gave the chance to interact with others, but now...........wow. The number one question?What am I going to do today?

   Today's retirees are a very different bunch. We tend to be younger and more active. We grew up in a time where there were more opportunities to do things when compared to previous generations. There was Woodstock!!! The sudden change from this active life to one more sedate can really shock the system. So what do do?

   We revert back to the behaviors of our youth. We hang out. As teens, we hung out on the street corner or behind the bleachers. As we grew older, it became drinks or dinner after work. It could be a church or a social group, joining the Rotary Club, but always participating in some sort of social networking. But people grow older, move away or pass away and those opportunities for the survivors are not as available as they once were.

   But today... it's McDonald's to the rescue, or some similar fast food chain. Many mornings on my way through town I will stop to pick up a cup of coffee. There are four different fast food restaurants within a stone's throw of each other and I try to visit a different one each time. Spread to wealth , you know!!. It didn't take me long to become aware of the different social groups that were “holding court” at each location. But here is the interesting point. At one place, it is a group of retired couples, the next spot is a group of men, and the third is made up of women. The fourth location is generally empty. No 'senior specials'. Boy are they missing ut.

   On the warmer, sunny afternoons, a different group gathers at one of the parking lots, securing a good view of the highway but with a watchful eye upon their chrome enhanced motorcycles. True, this group tends to be a bit younger, but I am not really sure. It's the gray hair in the pony tail that fools me. OK. I am just jealous. The ponytail and the 'bike'.

  But we may have created a national emergency here, however. I have heard that at certain locations, although I personally have not seen it, there have been high stakes bingo games and wild and uncontrolled card games that needed police intervention. Oh we are a crazy generation!

Answering the world's most puzzling question

For hundreds or maybe thousands of years philosophers and the world's great thinkers have attempted to find the elusive answers to the important questions of the time. What is the meaning of life? If a tree falls in the woods and no one is there to hear it, does it really make a sound? What is the sound made by one hand clapping? Does Santa Claus really fly from rooftop to rooftop or does he merely drop gifts from about twenty thousand feet? Is there life after a Republican takeover of the Presidency? THat one I am not sure about.

Lest I run a fowl of forgetting, the most important question of all might just be......”Why did the chicken cross the road?” For centuries, the world, from the very young to the very old, have sought to find the answer to this puzzling question.

Not being a chicken, I decided to go directly to the source. Approaching Henrietta with great caution I asked the question. “Why?” Her response was a flapping of feathers and a “buk, buk, buk”. But not understanding chicken, I decided to seek the answer elsewhere.

A quick survey at the local grocery store got some strange looks but great answers. Now one would expect the usual responses. But then, there was the occasional 'who cares' or 'none of your business.' People can be so rude. It was just a very simple question! Don't get your tail feathers all twisted.

I think chickens have been very misunderstood. Like... it was the chicken's fault for the outbreak of salmonella poisoning in the Midwest several years ago? Sounds more like a problem created by people in a hurry to make a profit rather than a chicken laying a bad egg. Now if you are expecting a joke here, I am going to disappoint you. What happened was serious and many people could have died. Human error? 

Chickens have become the brunt of many jokes and I don't understand why. What other animal can have it's head cut off and still be able to run around for several minutes? Sound a bit like the Congress Washington sometimes!!

Why would we call our best friends 'chicken' if they refused to take a dare or drink at an underage party or a puff on the joint and then get into a car.. Sounds pretty smart to me.

Poor Chicken Little. All she could do was run around shouting that the sky was falling. Did anyone actually believe her? Remember. The story was written to teach a lesson in 'courage'.  Is anyone listening or just running around with their heads cut off because of the 2016 election resukts?

Like other animals, a chicken can be very loyal to its owner and often becomes the family pets. It recognizes your voice and may greet you at the door each morning. And then on some unsuspecting day...whack with a hatchet and in a few short hours Henrietta appears on the serving platter at the dinner table. No one can eat her though. Who could possibly eat the family pet. My suggestion?. Don't give the chicken a name. Poor Henrietta.

Chickens don't fly very well. I am assuming at one time they were very skilled in the art of flying, but over time they lost the ability to soar with the eagles. I can picture it now,.. five eagles in formation lead by.... a chicken. Makes for an interesting image!

So....back to the original question. Why did the chicken cross the road? Perhaps it was to prove that if you need a new challenge and a fresh place to start, crossing the road may be the place to begin! (But before crossing the street, even if you are a chicken,be sure to look both ways, )

Does spelling count?

         When I waz a kid, I skipt skool a lot and nevr learnd to rite or spell good. (Actually, I learned how to spell the word ‘good’ because it rhymed with shood.)  I usually skipt on Mondays and Fridays. On Mondays, the teacher assined the new list of spelling words to studee for the week and on Friday, we had the test. But I was usually abcent. The other kidz made fun of me and the more fun they made, the more I skipt.

          Sometimes when I was in skool, the teacher would tell us we had to rite  something. The little blond hair girl who sat in front of me would always raise her hand and ask, “Does spelling count?” The other kidz would laff and I would slide down in my chair trying to hide under my desk.

         One day someone said to me, “Do not worry if you can not spell well. Someday there will be a machine that will correct all of your spelling mistakes. The machine will be called a computer and it will have something called spell check.”

          “Wow,” I said and decided at that point that I would just drop out and wait for this new machine. It was two hard to learn to spell and the other kidz just made fun of me anyhow.

           Time passed and I grew older. That person who told me about spell check was right. The computer, with spell check, did correct my spelling errors although I think the machine was sometimes overwhelmed even by my mistakes. But I began to realize that how I spelled, spoke and wrote was as important as how I dressed or combed my hair. I began to understand why the kids made fun of me. They thought I was stupid. But I really wasn’t.

          This is not necessarily a true story, although spelling was difficult for me. But the feelings and emotions expressed are felt by many who struggle with poor spelling and are made fun of in school.

          Does spelling count? You bet it does! How you speak, write and spell tells just as much about you as what you wear or where you live. Misspellings on a resume, job application or cover letter will not go unnoticed and can mean the difference between getting an interview or not.

           The other day I received a letter in the mail. Although it was a form letter and had been mailed to many others including me explaining some changes in an insurance policy, it contained two very obvious spelling errors. Does spelling count?  You bet it does! What happened to the spell check?

          What really concerns me is the shift to texting. Shortened phrases and abbreviations are rapidly taking the place of complete sentences and correct spelling. Can you imagine texting a cover letter for a job application?

          Don’t get me wrong. I am still  not the perfect 'speller'. Learning to spell words correctly is difficult for many. It takes time and practice. No shortcuts here. It requires study, study and more study.

          Now, if only I had only spent more time in school on Mondays and Fridays, perhaps I would know how to add and subtract better too.

After some time away, I am slowly working my way back to...500 words all the time..... and will begin posting again on a regular basis after the first of the year. I hope you will join me.
Thanks

Do these jeans make my butt look big?

 I have decided that if, for some strange reason, every pair of jeans in the country and the world were to disappear, there would be 'a lot' of people walking around “butt naked.” I came to this conclusion as I sat in the parking lot at the local grocery store, motor running to keep warm,  waiting for my wife as she pick up a couple of items for dinner  (like all the other retired folks).

   It was late afternoon, bitterly cold and the store was very busy as people rushed home from work. As I watched them race in and out of the store ( it was cold!) I realized that almost all were wearing some form or degree of 'jeans.' Many pairs were old and tattered. Some were new. Christmas gifts I might assume. Even gentlemen with shirts and ties were wearing 'jeans'. No black or gray slacks here. But the sneakers??? Not sure about that!

   The story goes that the term 'jeans' comes from the word 'Genoa' and referred to a cloth that came from Italy. Originality it was used to make pants for sailors, being a thick blend of linen and wool. The problem with linen was that it needed to be pressed in order to look neat. And you know the Navy.

   Years later jeans were being produced in England and were made primarily of wool. And the year? It was the 1700's. Later, a new fabric was introduced, denim, and the rest is history.

   By the late 19^th century America got into the 'jeans' business and the most well-know maker was a gentleman by the name of Levi Strauss. Along with Jacob Davis they would change the industry forever. (It was Davis' invention of the metal rivets to keep the pockets from ripping  off.)

 ' Jeans' hit the beginning of their everlasting popularity by the 1950's . New companies emerged on the scene and as usual, the movie industry played a major role in their success as the "rebels" on the big screen all wore jeans as a statement of "rebellion."  James Dean ring a bell?

   I can remember my fist pair of 'jeans'; dark denim blue and stiff as a board. But I could only wear them around the house, never in public, according to my mother and definitely not to school.

   'Jeans' were made for the 60's and 70's and the hippy movement. They were to become the symbol of individuality and an independent spirit as they took on new shapes and designs.  And by 1970, the dark blue had given way to the new look of “washed-out” and 'well worn'. Bet you can still find pairs of  'jeans' buried at Woodstock.

   From the early 1980's to the present day, 'jeans have continued to expand their roll into high fashion and design. There are very few who do not have at least one pair of jeans as a major part of the wardrobe whether they be designer or regular, distressed or destroyed, ultra low or pencil thin.

   I have several pairs of 'jeans', now that I am retired. I have a “dress pair” to wear with a nice shirt and sport coat, several pair that I wear when working around the house and mowing the lawn, one pair with the mandatory tears and worn out knee and one pair spotted with paint. ( I personally like the shirt, sport coat and 'jean' look with boat mocs.)

   The future of “jeans” looks sound and secure, regardless of "how big your butt is." And besides, if 'jeans' were, to all of a sudden to disappear from the face of the earth, I am not sure how pretty a sight  would be!! Could give  new meaning to the term " ugly butt naked!"