The Chocolate Lab Experiment

Warning: This post is not about dogs.  It's about wine.

So here goes....

I am not a wine connoisseur.  No, far from it.

VERY far from it.

I was nurtured by sweet Concord grape wine (Manischewitz, to be exact), and, in my early adulthood back in the 1970's, enjoyed the gourmet cheap offerings of Boone's Farm and still, when reaching for wine, tend to favor the sweet stuff.

But, I don't put Manischewitz down at all.  It was a local wine (Brooklyn) when I was growing up in the Bronx, and it is an upstate New York wine now, being made in Naples, New York.  And, although they have a lot more variety in their wine output now, you can still buy a bottle of that sweet Manischewitz Concord grape wine goodness.

So, when I saw this bottle in a newly opened wine and liquor store near my home, I was intrigued.  "Unabashedly unsophisticated?" That's me, exactly, when it comes to wine.  Perhaps I should be a little ashamed to admit it, but my wine palate has never progressed from where it started out at age...um, 18, which was the legal drinking age when I turned 18.

I would never have imagined wine and chocolate in the same sentence, except to say "bleechhh".  I was to a wine tasting once where they "paired" chocolate and wine, and, I'm sorry to say, it was awful.  (Of course, "awful" to me may mean something different to a wine connoisseur).

But who could resist the face on the bottle?

I looked Chocolate Lab wine up online. Yes, it is a New York State (Seneca Lake) wine.  Yes, it is made from sweet concord grapes (the "lush native grapes" of the label) and natural chocolate favor.  Two years ago, I did not find anything like this at the Finger Lakes Wine Festival, but maybe they didn't waste Chocolate Lab on the masses. (or maybe, it wasn't being made yet.)

Apparently, there are those who like this as a dessert wine.  There was even one review that likened it to "drinking a Tootsie Roll".  So, this is what I did.

I bought a bottle.

I'm going to have it on Valentine's Day if I am permitted. (Hopefully, I'll be far enough recovered from my dental surgery to indulge, but I am on antibiotics - so I may have to wait a day or so.)

And then, I am going to tell you, my blog readers, what I thought. 

My first wine review! (run, run as fast as you can....)

Have you had chocolate flavored wine before?  Or a wine named after a dog?

My Wisdom is Going Down a Hole

There is no wisdom like the wisdom of "what if".

Nowdays, in the United States, having your wisdom teeth out as soon as they erupt is a rite of passage for a lot of young people in their late teens.  I was, however, not one of them.  Born in the early 50's, this was something that was never recommended to me, and, in all honesty, I don't know if my father would have insisted on having the procedure done.

But, first, what are wisdom teeth?  They are the last teeth to come in, and are also known as third molars. They generally come in between the ages of 17 and 25.  For some, there are no issues with them. But for many people, the teeth come in misaligned.  They can become infected, they can push against other teeth, and a lot of people wonder why they were ever named "wisdom teeth".

There are all kind of horror stories floating around the internet about people and their experiences after wisdom tooth extraction.  My spouse had all four taken out at once, courtesy of his military service, and he, let's just say, didn't have the best experience.  So that helped me make up my mind that I would not have mine out.

Wrong!  Wrong! Wrong!

My bottom two wisdom teeth had come in partially, and both eventually became infected.  Eventually, both were extracted (not at the same time).  I was told, in my 40's, to have the upper ones, both impacted (neither ever erupted) removed.  Stubborn me, I was of the school of "if it ain't broke, don't fix it." So, I didn't.

What I wish I had been shown is what happens if you wait till you are 61.  That's where I am now.

In November, during a routine dental exam, the dentist found that one of my two remaining wisdom teeth was literally being attacked by my body. Part of it was already dissolved away.  It had to go.

So, in mid December, I went to the dental surgeon who had taken care of me years ago, and I thought it would just be done during the consultation. I was all psyched.  Christmas music played as the dental surgeon, a Dr. Holly (no, I am not making this up) came into the room. 

He took one quick look in my mouth, shook his head, and asked his staff to take a dental CT scan.  I didn't even know there was such a thing as a dental CT scan.  And then, he sat me down and told me I had just about the worst combination of circumstances for a wisdom tooth to be in.

I have a picture of my dental CT scan on my phone, but I will not subject my dear readers to that kind of "selfie".

What can happen if you wait till you are in your 60's is simple.  The tooth, tooth #1 as dentists number teeth, was partially dissolved.  It was sticking all the way up in my sinus cavity (that can be age related) and that was a problem, too. A major problem.  And, my bone density isn't what it used to be.  It was possible that when he did the extraction, other teeth might follow if the bone snapped away.  Or, I could be left with a nice hole in my sinus cavity. Or, a number of other mean, nasty outcomes could result.  And did he happen to mention that I had a major cavity in the tooth next to it, #2, which is anchoring a bridge? And, because of the way tooth #1 was up against tooth #2, the cavity was untreatable if he didn't take tooth #1 out?

His exact words to me were "I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't."  He also told me the evidence for removing wisdom teeth in older teens automatically wasn't there when I was 20, but there is now a large body of evidence to support the practice.

Because of having to care for my mother in law during some of her cancer treatment in January, I didn't have the procedure done until Friday.  And I won't get into the gory details, except to say, when the tooth came out (after partially shattering) he told me "it's a boy" and made little baby crying sounds. Did I mention that Dr. Holly is a character? 

Yes, he's a character.

Dr. Holly told me I was lucky.  All things considered, I had just about the best outcome.  For that, I am grateful.  And I can tell you - the recovery now isn't like it was in my 40's. 

I do have that hole in my sinus cavity, and I have to take a bunch of precautions. I've read some real horror stories about what happens if that hole doesn't heal, or if I get a cold in the meantime.  And, I can feel air in my nostril on that side.  Right now, I have to admit to you my readers, I am a bit scared.

And, oh yes, that other tooth, #2? He doesn't think it can be saved. My regular dentist is going to try, but I may be seeing Dr. Holly again in a couple of months.

Being scared can be good, though, because it means I am going to care for myself the best I can, given it is a cold February in upstate New York.

As much as you try to take care of yourself, age can and does catch up with you. You lose bone mass, and it does take more time to recover from surgery.  So, the moral of the story is this:
Don't wait until you are 61 to have wisdom teeth out.

Just my personal opinion, of course.

We Loved Them Yeah Yeah Yeah

There are certain things that define a generation.  And, when my family gets together in one room, we have three generations of music enjoyment.

My mother in law, in her 80's, still listens to the greats of big band music, and enjoys singers such as Tony Bennett and Frank Sinatra.

My son, who is in his 20's,  shares a lot of his father's musical tastes in heavy metal music.  Together, they can listen to, and enjoy, (for example) a Metallica album. For us to have had that link with our parents, who thought rock and roll music was performed by a bunch of long hair hippie freaks for a similar audience, that would have been impossible to imagine.

And my generation, the generation growing up in the late 50's and early 60's? You Tube allows a peek into the world we once knew.

This is what television was like on February 9, 1964.  This is a glimpse into the world that was our childhood.

The Beatles in their first American appearance on network television - a news show.

And then, on February 9, 1964, the Beatles performed live on the Ed Sullivan Show. The Ed Sullivan "Shew" (the way he pronounced it)?  It was THE entertainment show to get on.  Sunday night, 8pm Eastern Time, CBS network.

Getting a smile out of Ed (almost impossible) meant you were on your way to stardom.

The Beatles got Ed to smile (see about 7:55 of the above video).  It was a big, broad smile.

In a way, it's so hard to believe you are listening to the early stages of a cultural revolution that helped to create the world we live in today.  But, in a way, it started with an innocent song called "All My Loving", almost drowned out by the screams of girls just a little older than I was on that day.  The third song, "She Loves You"...well, my generation loved them, yeah yeah yeah.

And many of us still do, as we celebrate the 50th anniversary of this show tonight.

What was the music of your childhood?

Sustainable Saturday - The February Larder

We are only a few weeks away from spring (and counting the days).  But, here in upstate New York, the start of spring is only a number on the calendar (and an astronomy event) - it is rare that anything much is growing outside here at the beginning of the third week of March.

It certainly isn't the best day for growing here.  This morning, it got down to 1 above zero F (-17 C)

Yet, here in February, our twice a month winter farmers market in downtown Binghamton, perseveres.  Here are some of the offerings of the last market.

Root veggies-anyone for organic carrots and other veggies? (I was slightly puzzled to see something that looks like kohlrabi in this bag - as that is not a root veggie.  But maybe I'm just confused.)

Garlic, which somehow came out sideways (it refuses to rotate).  Most local garlic at this time of year is somewhat dried out - these were perfect.

And, my surprise of the week.

Golden Russet apples!  (this vendor also had dried beans, and fresh kale)

Technically, Trumansburg (which is much closer to Ithaca than it is to here) is not local, but the vendor was the local Binghamton urban farm Vines.  They were forgiven, as I pounced upon two pounds of these apples (looking like a madwoman as I sprinted to their booth).  The next day, I made a heavenly apple crisp with part of my find.

Simply stated, these apples have some of the best taste you will every experience.  If you have never had a heirloom apple and see these for sale, run, do not walk, to the vendor.

Other items for sale included eggs, cheese, breads, honey, meat and crafts.

What's selling in your local farmer's market this week?

Civil War Sunday Special Edition - The Town that Disappeared

Today, I am taking things a bit out of order.

I normally post on the United States Civil War on Sunday, and I try to write about events that happened 150 years ago and not take things out of turn.  But today is the 152nd anniversary of a battle fought in Northwest Arkansas (where I used to live), and Sunday is the 50th anniversary of a special event in my life.  So, if you come to my blog Sunday and see a post on the Beatles, well, you've been warned.

After a 28 year plus wait, I finally got to visit this battlefield in August of last year.  Following the styles in which the Union and the Confederates named battles, this battle was called Pea Ridge by the Union, and Elkhorn Tavern by the Confederates.

Of many interesting things, what interested me most was one phase of the battle, March 7, 2014 - Leetown.

Leetown, located in present day Benton County (the same county as Bentonville, the home town of Wal-Mart), was one of the oldest settlements in Northwest Arkansas.  It was a thriving settlement in March of 1862, when war came to its front door and knocked.

This is what Leetown looks like today.

That's right. It's gone, basically gone except for a gravestone.

There is a beautiful description of the Battle of Elk Horn Tavern (Pea Ridge), written by a descendent of the man who founded the settlement of Leetown, John W. Lee.

As I've blogged about before, people in whose backyards the battles of the Civil War were fought paid a heavy and terrible price.

The buildings of Leetown were taken by both sides for field hospitals.   The stink of death filled the air, as it would in tens of battles over the next three years. The buildings were left in such disrepair that few people wanted to return to the settlement. 

We tend to forget how much civilians suffered in this war.

Today, though, the battlefield is quiet - and, like so many battlefields of the "western" portion of the Civil War, not as well known as they should be. 

This picture, so peaceful, was taken near where two Confederate generals died.

Some of the terrain the soldiers had to deal with.

And, one of the many who died at Pea Ridge during the two day battle (gravestone at National Cemetery, Fayetteville, Arkansas) that won nearby Missouri for the Union.  Michael Waltrip was a native of Illinois, born in 1844, and served with the 25th Illinois Infantry.

I have other pictures taken at Pea Ridge, and I hope to share them with you another time.

Aging with Balance

Today, on the eve of the Winter Olympics, I want to introduce you to someone in a sport that you would find in the Summer Olympics - gymnastics.

There are many gymnasts in the world, but my guess is, not too many of them are 88 years old.
We could all wish for physical abilities like this woman from Germany, rather than thinking about the physical decline that is all too common in the United States, striking most seniors - including my mother in law.

This seems to be more of how we expect our elders to be once they are in their 80's.   But Johanna Quaas shows us that there is another path we can take.

Johanna Quaas holds the Guinness Worlds Record for oldest gymnast.  And, if your choice of exercise is yoga, there is a 95 year old woman actively teaching (and practicing yoga) in a suburb of New York City. 

I shouldn't be surprised.  I had an elderly water aerobics instructor when I started water aerobics in the mid 1990's, and she was doing every one of the moves-from the deck of the pool. 

Aging is a scary thing.  Already, I see declines in my balance, and I am concerned enough to seek out solutions.  Right now there are some balance improvement programs in our area (Broome County, New York has some excellent senior programs) but all the programs I am aware of meet on weekdays, and I work full time, on weekdays.

I talked to one person involved in those programs, and she seemed puzzled by my request for an evening or weekend program.  "Yours is the first request for night classes which I've received", she told me last year.  So, I am going to have to make this a "do it myself" project.

I also have back issues, and mild scoliosis, and wonder what the best type of exercise would be for me.  I am not a flexible person-never have been.  I've never done yoga - or gymnastics, so am looking for something a little more beginner friendly for a 61 year old.  I love walking, and water zumba, but I need something more-a lot more - for my balance.

What, I wonder, is the best way to age with balance?

Winter Wonders - The Adult Snow Day

Yesterday, we had a red sky in the morning and a forecast for 10-14 inches of snow.

This morning, this is what I woke up to.

Almost exactly a foot (30.48 cm) of snow.

About 1/2 hour later, the county declared a state of emergency (mainly meaning "no unnecessary travel") so where I work is closed for now.  I'll probably be called into work later today, but right now, I am enjoying my unexpected adult snow day.  This doesn't happen too many times in my job.

I enjoyed the transition from nighttime to day. 

A neighborhood scene - dark, but lit with snow and streetlights. (None of these photos, incidentally, have been manipulated.  All pure iPhone.)

...to near sunrise, looking at my unplowed street.

A view from my dark backyard.

Dark trees.

And, near sunrise (I love this lighting).

My backyard.  Want to sit out there? (That chair in the upper right corner is plastic, but what you are seeing is all snow.)

And finally, one more picture (taken around 9am) showing the deadly beauty of this storm, and, again, the changing light.  

The plows have now gone through, but all the snow thrown up is now blocking the driveway and walkway to the street.  As we grow older, we become more concerned about the effort needed to shovel all this.  And they keep running the plows, so we don't dare touch the piles until we think they won't come through again.  (Thank you, spouse, for your offer to shovel.)

I hate winter, but at least it's been a while since we've had to worry about those large snowpiles.

Soon enough, back to work.

The Man of Mars

The American Super Bowl, the championship game of our football season, was held Sunday.  And my husband and I learned a lesson about assuming.

There are three keys to every Super Bowl event.

1.  The game.  Yes, sometimes it is easy to forget they are playing a championship game down on the field, with all the hype, but they were.  And, the stadium was just a few miles from my hometown.  And it didn't get snowed out!  (If it had been held a day later - well, football games are played despite the weather, but people getting out to see it would not have been too happy.) The game was terrible, and since a number of my readers are from other countries, I won't bore you (or me) with the details.  Let's just all agree that the game was terrible.  Several people I knew switched to Downton Abbey and, since I have never watched it, maybe it would have been a good time for me to change the channel.

2.  The food.  That's up to each individual viewer, but many Americans use the Super Bowl as an excuse to gorge themselves on the most fattening and heartburn inducing foods known to mankind.  Enough said.

3.  And finally, the half time music show.  Past artists have included The Rolling Stones, Paul McCartney, Michael Jackson, Diana Ross, The Who and U2. The last few years though, the performers have been some whose performances neither me nor my spouse were impressed with, including Madonna and Beyoncé.

When we heard the performer this year would be one "Bruno Mars", we decided we wouldn't even watch the half time show. Without knowing a thing about him other than he was a young performer. Visions of Justin Bieber and Miley Cyus fresh in our minds, we almost passed. Speaking of pre-judging...

 But we watched anyway (full disclosure, the Red Hot Chili Peppers participating got us in).

If we hadn't, we would have missed one of the best live performances we have every seen.

This is a sample of what we saw.  The show started with a high energy drum solo by Mars, and never let up.  He touched on the music styles of four decades. There was more showmanship there in 12 some minutes than I have seen in several recent Super Bowl halftimes put together. (Just my personal opinion - each to our own.)  And that entire show, choreographed, would make one heck of an exercise class. (Did my water zumba teacher watch?)

The musicians, in their dancing and their dress, reminded me of the dancing deliveries of groups such as The Temptations.  I'm so surprised I didn't jump up and join them at home.

Yesterday, everyone at work was talking about how fantastic Bruno Mars (his real name is Peter Gene Hernandez) was, and I totally agree.  My spouse, who rarely listens to modern music except for certain hard rock artists, was also impressed.  And over 110 million people tuned in to watch this half time.

Hundreds of millions of views on You Tube add to his fame.

This young man is incredibly, and I mean incredibility, talented.

You know that saying about what assumptions are? Next time, I won't decide not to watch someone until I investigate further.

And, Super Bowl people, maybe you should just build on success, and bring Mars and his band back next year.  If you do, I will be watching.

Back on the Rollercoaster

For the last couple of days, we'd been above freezing in the Binghamton, New York area.  This ended last night.  We are missing a snowstorm New York City is getting now and it is eight above zero F (-13 C)near the small town in Northwest Arkansas where I lived years ago.  Meanwhile, it is the calm before our storm, predicted for Wednesday.

During our latest cold wave, the weather did what it did when it gets bitterly cold here - the sun showed itself.  At this time of year, that's about the only time we see it.  On Friday, as it first went above freezing, the sun actually continued to shine! But, on Saturday, the sun started to disappear, along with the snow.

On Saturday, my spouse and I were able to get out for an outside walk, and that was cause to celebrate.  Nature was enjoying the thaw, too.

On our local Rail Trail, the Vestal Rail Trail, beautiful brown plumes of last year's ornamental grass met us at the starting point.

Then, a little further up the line, a conifer asked me to take a picture.

And, finally, a sumac's red color against the increasingly white, dull, sky.

Soon, though, it will be looking like this again, with the snow coming down.  In a strange way, seeing pictures of snowy Northwest Arkansas on Facebook yesterday (I lived there years ago) made me feel a little less picked on.

Winter isn't finished with us. How is your weather?

Super Groundhog Bowl Sunday

(If you are looking for Civil War Sunday, it will return next Sunday).

Today is a merging of two traditions here in the United States.  Will we survive the experience?

Every February 2, we celebrate Groundhog Day.  Well, let's be real about this - we humans celebrate it.  As for the poor groundhogs who are dragged out of warm burrows by strange fur less creatures who make them look for their shadows (hence "predicting" if there will be six more weeks of winter) I'm sure they aren't celebrating anything.

The most unfortunate groundhog of them all is one Punxsutawney Phil, of Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania (don't ask), who even gets on national TV.  Now, I realize this tradition of using groundhogs (or badgers) to predict the early end of winter (or not) is hundreds of years old. But, according to the records (and P. Phil, or his ancesters, have been doing this since 1887), Phil has been right only 39% of the time.  

The groundhog math, actually, is simple.

Groundhog sees shadow = six more weeks of winter.
Groundhog doesn't see shadow = early spring  six more weeks of winter.

Last year, in fact, a prosecutor in Ohio sought the death penalty for Phil because he didn't see his shadow, but we got six more weeks of winter anyway.

No Weather Channel job for Phil! Now, can we let the groundhogs sleep?

Nah.  And, in fact, P. Phil saw his shadow this morning, so we are in for six more weeks of winter, as if we didn't already know that.  With a major storm bearing down on upstate New York for Wednesday, we didn't need a groundhog to tell us.

Meanwhile, Americans are readying themselves for the Super Bowl.  This is a national sports event for most Americans - it is the championship game for professional football.  For my European and Australian blog buddies, you are probably already aware that "American Football" is not "World Football".    I will not be part of the debate on which is "better".

At any rate, what the Superbowl REALLY is about is inviting your family and friends for the following:
1.  Watching the game at home, while eating mass quantities of chips, chili, guacamole, seven layer dip, fried chicken wings covered in every kind of glop you can imagine, and foods that are required by law to have a minimum fat content of 75%.  And, I suppose, hoping none of them have groundhog as a secret ingredient.
2.  Drinking beer.
3.  Watching the commercials.  Especially, for people like me, watching the commercials.

Like this one, which already has been viewed over 25,000,000. times on You Tube.


And this one (which will be cut for the Bowl viewing).

Groundhogs, American Football, puppies and Arnold Schwarzenegger.  What more can you want on a Super Day?

Sustainable Saturday - You Don't Have to Be Jewish to Like Matzoh Ball Soup

Years ago, there was an advertising campaign in the New York City area, where I grew up.

"You Don't Have to be Jewish To Love Levy's Real Jewish Rye". The campaign featured pictures of people belonging to various ethnic groups enjoying Levy's rye. 

(Sadly, the person who penned that slogan, Judy Protas, died last month, at the age of 91.  Another chunk of my childhood, gone.  But I digress.)

You know what?  You don't have to be Jewish to like matzoh ball soup, either.

In January, my mother in law had a radioactive implant for a week, and it was then removed.  She was recovering from the removal surgery two weeks ago.  (As reported yesterday, she most probably will not have to undergo any more treatment - hurrah!)

My mother in law has lived all her life in suburbs of New York City.

She didn't have much of an appetite, but soup appealed to her.  My spouse and I decided to treat her to a couple of her favorite soups.  One, Escarole/Italian Wedding Soup, I blogged about last Saturday.  The other soup is a favorite soup of this woman of the New York City metropolitan area whose mother and father were both born in Italy.

Real Jewish matzoh ball soup.

First, for those who did not grow up around matzohs, they are a thin, crispy flat bread, normally made from white flour.  Years ago, there were two basic types - plain, and egg.  The plain ones were made from flour and water, period. The egg matzohs were sometimes made with apple cider. The eggs made them softer, and they were intended for children and the infirm.

Nowadays, you can find matzohs made from spelt, from whole wheat flower, and matzohs flavored with garlic and onion.

Matzoh balls (also known as knaidels) are a soup dumpling made from ground matzoh meal, chicken fat (or oil) and eggs.  Some cooks add water - some cooks swear by seltzer.

But, since we couldn't find matzoh meal, we had to use matzoh ball mix.  I mixed it up per the directions and put it into the refrigerator to cool.

Meantime, my spouse prepared the soup from the bone broth/retort broth we had made earlier in the day.

We added the chilled matzoh ball mix to the broth, along with some fresh spinach and turkey meat (again, see last week's post).  Quickly, the matzoh balls puffed up.

It didn't take long, and my mother in law soon had some comforting soup to feast on.  My spouse talked to her yesterday, and she remarked on how much she loved eating the matzoh ball soup.  What could be a better subject for sustainable living than a good soup?

I wish I could send some soup out to my good friend in Brooklyn, who started a new, extensive chemo treatment yesterday.  She is a faithful reader of my blog.  My friend was actually hungry after yesterday's hours long session.  I think it would be fantastic if you could send her some good thoughts, good vibrations or even some virtual chicken soup. 

Do you have a favorite dish that does not come from your childhood ethnic cuisine?

Thankful Friday

The last day of January has arrived.  Our cold wave is moderating, and I can be grateful for that.  It's actually 21 degrees F (-6 C) outside - happy dance!

With this post, I complete another Ultimate Blog Challenge and another January, and I am grateful for both.  It was a busy January, hard in a number of ways, stressful in others.

My spouse and I received some wonderful news yesterday.  My mother in law saw her oncologist today, and he feels that the radioactive treatment killed her cancerous tumor.  He will know for sure upon one last (we hope it is last) follow up visit in April.

So, we can take a very deep breath - exhale, and inhale.

And then face reality.  Even with this good news about her cancer (which, thankfully, was caught at an early stage):
1.  She still has the medical bills, which have started to come in. We don't know yet how much money she will owe after Medicare pays its share;
2.   She is still in her mid 80's, with the same age related problems as she had before the cancer diagnosis; and
3.  My spouse's attempts to gain guardianship of his brother who has autism seems like it is stuck in quicksand.  (I might be able to write a book about this at the end of the process - if there is an end!)

I said I would blog more about my brother in law, and then backed off a little, unsure if my readers would want that.  For February, I will continue to include him in this blog from time to time.

I still think about blogging a book.  Now, maybe as I take that deep breath....

I am grateful for my friend in Brooklyn, who I haven't blogged about for a while, her husband, my guest photographer friend, my spouse and best friend, and others in my life.

I am grateful for my spouse's last aunt. I won't be able to attend her 102nd birthday party and, although I saw her on Christmas Day, I would have loved to have seen her again before spring. (she lives over 150 miles from us). 

And finally, last but certainly not least, I am grateful to my readers, old and new.

Before I go on to (in the words of a former boss, now retired) "the next event" I wanted to thank you all, my faithful blog readers, for your support and your comments.

Even if I don't say it enough, please know that it helps me so much that you are all in my life, too.

And now, onward to February!

Unpreparedness

The scenes are unbelievable to many living in my area, an area that can easily get in excess of 80 inches (200 cm) of snow in a year.  In fact, Binghamton, New York is one of several participants in something called the Golden Snowball award.

Basically, five upstate New York cities compete for the most snow of the season.  Right now, Binghamton is at some 56 inches - measured at the airport, that is.  Where I live, in the Susquehanna River valley, we get a bit less.

A 2 1/2 inch snowfall would hardly be noticed here. Out come the snowplows, the snow blowers, and the salt trucks.  We have the equipment.

For the southern United States, 2 1/2 inches of snow is a disaster.  Earlier this week, Atlanta, Georgia (with a population of around 5.5 million) along with other parts of the south, were thrown into gridlock.  People were stranded for up to two days on Interstates.  Children slept overnight in school. Stores and people opened their homes so people could be warm.  A Facebook page (or more) was created to help the stranded.

I know what it can be like, because, years ago, I saw it for myself, and it's actually a reason why I now live in upstate New York.

Simply stated, where there is no snow removal, the snow quickly turns to ice.  And, since they have no way to deal with it, the only way these communities can deal with it is to shut down.  They can do that if the event is rare.  I heard, as one example, that the nearest snowplow to Savannah, Georgia is some 300 miles away.  Savannah, a much smaller city, did shut down.  People were told to stay home.  Eventually, it would warm up.

But Atlanta didn't shut down.  They weren't prepared.  In the South, at least 10 died from this storm.

It's above freezing now in those areas of the South, but they won't be any more prepared for the next event, if you believe history.  But, the climate is changing.  Dispute the cause if you want, but the weather isn't what it used to be.

Now, I promised you a personal story.

In the winter of 1976, my spouse was in the Air Force, and stationed in Wichita Falls, TX.  Wichita Falls is noted for its tornadoes and its summer heat, not its snow removal abilities.  On November 13-14, a weekend, Wichita Falls received around six inches of snow.

The city (of around 100,000 people) was shut down for nearly a week, because it stayed cold.  And, they had to call out the National Guard.  My spouse helped with the efforts.  I was fortunate, as I was not working at the time.

Later, in Arkansas, we had more fun and games (not) in the land of no-snow-removal, except they do get snow there every year, and it doesn't necessarily melt right away, either.  After five years of coping with the Northwest Arkansas winters (living out in the country made it even less fun) we called it quits and decided that if we had to struggle with winter, we would do it back in New York. (As my regular readers know, that wasn't the only reason why we left Arkansas, but it was a consideration.)

So here we are, living on the edge of the snowbelt.  It isn't fun, and right now, in fact, it is two degrees above zero.  Yesterday, at my son's house, it was -17. But, compared to other parts of upstate New York, it hardly snows here at all.  And we do get snow emergencies.

Not just with 2 1/2 inches.

Climate change.  Love it or hate it, we have no choice but to endure.

What is your weather like right now?

Winter Wonders - Oreo Snow

Something interesting happens once or twice each winter here in upstate New York.

We get Oreo snow.

What is Oreo snow?

It is not this, large fakes of snow coming down so fast that you can see the snowflakes in the photo.  In fact, when this picture was taken, it was above freezing - that is how fast and furious the snow was coming down.

No, Oreo snow isn't this, coating every branch in sight with heavy, wet, damaging snow.

No, I can't easily show you Oreo snow.  This shot below is about the best I can do because I felt like I was getting frostbite in the few seconds my bare hands held my iPhone yesterday. I faced the glowing eastern horizon in the minutes before sunrise.   In another part of the sky, a waning crescent moon held forth while Venus, the morning star, glowed.

Oreo Snow near abandoned BAE building, Westover, near Johnson City, NY

The conditions must be exactly right for Oreo snow.  And yesterday, we had them.

The temperature must be near, at, or just below zero F. (-17.7 Celsius). There must not be a lot of snow already on the ground, and the snow must be fairly fresh.  You want just a coating, maybe 1/2 an inch or so.  You don't want to be trudging through many inches or feet of the stuff.  And, it must be pure white.

It must be crystal clear out, with not much wind.  Under these conditions, the snow becomes crunchy, almost a pleasure to walk upon.

When these conditions happen(and I don't think it's my imagination, because I have noticed this for years), there is a smell released when you walk on the snow.

It smells like sugar.

It smells like Oreo filling.

I love Oreos.

And Oreo snow made me very happy.

Have you ever experienced Oreo snow?

I Hate I Hate I Hate that Calendar App

The mystery of my malfunctioning iPhone 4S may have been solved, partially due to my son (thank you, son, you will get your Dad's special chicken wings on Sunday) and partially due to a fellow blogger (thank you, Jo Michaels!)

To summarize what happened, my phone was fully charged when I went to bed Saturday.  It did seem to be more drained than usual when I charged it, though.

Sunday morning the phone had a dead battery.  After the Verizon store (our nearest Apple store is 78 miles away) could only suggest I do an early upgrade (for $$$, of course) or go to a kiosk in the mall that fixed iPhones, I texted my son (after the phone charged, which took a lonnngggg time).

My son didn't figure out the cause, but came up with the cure. After several suggestions didn't work, he had me restore the factory settings.  On my own, I also turned Siri [in the 4S it is worthless] off and took a couple of apps off.

(This was NOT the calendar app that may have caused my problems.)

Rather, it may have been the calendar app on my iPhone 4S. I never did upgrade to iOS 7 because of my philosophy of "if it ain't broke, don't fix it.".  And, the day the battery started to go haywire, I had gone into the calendar app just to play around with it.  Why, I have no idea.  I've only used it a couple of times.  I will not play around in there again.

 Blogger apparently ate Jo's comment.  She ended up contacting me on Facebook.  I don't think Jo will mind me sharing some of her wisdom with my readers, though:

"There was a huge problem with the calendar app in iOS 5 draining the battery. iOS 7 fixed that issue..[then she told me about a problem with her iPhone solved by an Apple Store Genius].My phone was replaced when the wi-fi magically quit working unless in very close proximity and the battery was draining in less than an hour. They restored it, ran a system check, and physically tested the device.... So it's worth the time. Wasted days irk me to no end. Always go to the manufacturer if you can. They know their product best. Hope this helps!!!!"

So, I am so fortunate to have Jo as a blogging buddy. When she's not busy helping me with my iPhone, she's an author, and her blog contains an amazing amount of information on the craft of writing (and designing book covers, because she's an artist, too.)  Her latest book is I Zombie.

I had some problems reconnecting to my home network after restoration but my son helped me with that tonight. (I don't want to imagine what he was muttering while texting me - no doubt something about "old people". Well, I love you, too.).

I still hate technology.  But it's better when good people have your back.  Or, your iPhone.  And, in case I ever have to go to Syracuse, to the huge Destiny USA mall, to visit an Apple Store, they make some good chocolate there.  (In Syracuse.  Not in the Destiny USA Apple Store.)

Now, I can get back to my real problems.

The Cell Phone Lesson

Saturday night I charged my iPhone 4S.   It was at 100%.  I went to bed.

Sunday morning I woke up to a dead phone.  All I could get out of it was this faint, weird symbol which somehow conveyed that the battery had no power.

Yes, we all could wish for a problem like this, instead of the serious problems a lot of face. But nevertheless, it's an aggravation.

So here I was, Ms. I-hate-cell-phones, who had a TracFone [non contract, pay as you go] for years and years and barely used it as it was. But, when my mother in law (who is in her mid-80's) and then my sister in law, then my cousin, then my son got iPhones, I had to get one too.  Actually, I had been intrigued by iPhones for a while.  I just didn't want to pay the phone bill or have a contract, but finally I broke down.

What harm would it do?  Well, that's what all drug addicts smart phone users say at first.

Within days I was hooked, and I knew I could never go back to the TracFone.  My spouse, who still barely uses his simple non smart phone, started out sarcastically by calling my phone "the magic phone". Before long, the sarcasm was gone.

The phone saved us from getting lost on vacation more than once. In my recent long distance caregiving days, being able to read emails and find things online was super convenient.   And the camera. Oh, the camera! I don't even use my non phone camera any more.  Most of the photos you've seen on this blog since May of 2012 are from my iPhone.

Until yesterday, when everything came to a screeching halt.

I went to the Verizon store with my spouse. (For my non U.S. friends, they are one of a handful of major United States cell phone carriers.)

Me:  "My phone is dead."

A manager:  "let's take it into the back room and charge it for 45 minutes or so.  Maybe it's a bad cable."

We went exercise walking and returned.  The phone was at 30%. I knew it should have charged up better than that in 45 minutes.   The manager didn't look happy.

Manager:  "It's not the cable. It might be the battery.  We don't replace batteries here. And, your phone is out of warranty. (I knew that - I didn't buy the extended warranty, either.  Guess I'm not making that mistake again.)

He continued "You really should upgrade to IOS 7.  In fact, if you had had the warranty, Apple wouldn't have replaced the phone unless you had upgraded."

Now, I still have the original operating system from when I got the phone in late April of 2012-IOS 5 - because if something computerish isn't broke, I don't fix it.  I figured I was going to get a new phone when my contract was up in April.

Me: "I know people whose phones will hardly keep a charge with IOS 7, and have other problems."  My son is one of these, although, overall, he likes IOS 7.


Manager: "Well, I suggest first that you back up your phone.  Now, you have 3 more months before your contract expires, and you might consider getting a new phone. We can do an early upgrade, where we will take the full price of the new phone (which I think is $649 for an iPhone 5S) and divide it into 24 payments, and then at the midway point,we.." (by then I was no longer paying attention.  My magic phone!  My baby! )

We made a quick trip to the grocery, after which the phone was at 18%, in The Red Zone.

It took a long time to charge the phone, while I backed it up onto my computer and took off some apps, and texted back and forth with my son, who is my tech support. Once I took it off the charger, it rapidly lost power, and it felt kind of warm.

So we went back to the mall, to the kiosk the manager of the Verizon store had pointed us to, a kiosk that fixes iPhones.

Except that the young man at the kiosk was out of batteries for iPhone 4S.  He should have some tomorrow, he said.

The young man took my phone out of the case and looked at it for about three seconds. Then he looked at me.

"Why haven't you upgraded to IOS 7?"

Sigh. I had already wasted part of an afternoon on this as it was but maybe IOS 7 was my fate.

When I got home, I looked up "how to upgrade an iPhone 4S to IOS 7" and saw that the newest IOS7 version that came out several days ago has glitched up a lot of iPhones.  Phones no longer usable as phones.  Phones that didn't recognize the charging cable.  Phones where the cameras didn't work.  Phones whose batteries could barely keep a charge.  I read that last one a couple of times, and decided to see what changing the battery ($40) would do.

So I tried one last thing, which my son suggested - go back to the factory settings.  It didn't work.  And, I can't reconnect to my home network.

One of my Facebook friends suggested, instead, that I get a TracFone until my contract runs out.

Don't tempt me.

Life is too short to allow this to bother me.  Why did I let it rule my life for a day?

Lesson learned, I hope.

Civil War Sunday-Fair Garden and Sevierville

On January 27, 1864, a battle was fought in beautiful Sevier County, in Eastern Tennessee, in the Smoky Mountains.  Names in that area are so peaceful sounding. The French Broad River (which I've met in Asheville, North Carolina.)  The Little Pigeon River.  The small community near Sevierville where the battle would be fought:  Fair Garden. 

It wasn't a major battle as battles go.  It was a battle for control of fords and resources along the French Broad river, and "only" about 265 casualties resulted.  The Union won, but had to retreat as they were low on supplies. Both sides, in fact, were hungry.

Anarchy resulted.

The country superstar Dolly Parton, many years later, grew up in Sevierville.

We were supposed to travel through the area in September of last year, but my spouse's rapidly growing cataract (since operated on) took care of that.  There is lots to see in  Sevierville.

People from all over our country travel to that area of Tennessee to enjoy the natural beauty, the shopping, and other attractions. But, 150 years ago. things were way different, as our country was at war with each other.

When many people think about the United States Civil War, they think of Virginia.  Or perhaps, Georgia (as in "Sherman's March to the Sea").  Or, they might think of the Battle of Gettysburg, in Pennsylvania, or Antietam, in Maryland.


But, as I have blogged before, the areas beyond the East Coast aren't thought of as much by many people.

These Western states suffered greatly.  Tennessee was one of several border states (states along the United States/Confederate States border). Those states especially suffered, with their populations split in loyalties between the Confederacy and the Union.   Tennessee, in fact, was the last state to secede from the Union.  There were many Union supporters in the Eastern portion of the state.  Sevierville was no exception.

Virginia was #1 in total battles. Tennessee was #2.  Tennessee was also the second most populous state in the Confederate States of America, and contributed the most soldiers to the Confederate cause except for Virginia.  Meanwhile, this border state also contributed many soldiers to the Union Army.Several Confederate generals, including Nathan Bedford Forrest, came from Tennessee, as did United States' President Lincoln's second Vice President, Andrew Johnson.

"Brother against brother" can be a cliche, but, in Tennessee, it was a reality.  Sevierville was one of those "crossroads" communities that suffered, as the tides of war twisted and turned, and the city was harassed by both Confederate and Union troops. 

From Civil War to major tourist attraction 150 years later in a reunited United States, I intend to check out this area one day.

And the battlefield itself?  From what I can discover, it is apparently on the campus of a community college.  Last year, a marker was erected to mark the spot.  (Preservation of Civil War battlefields is still another subject I've blogged about - not often enough.)

Meanwhile, in a couple of weeks, I will return to the West - this time, to the remains of a town in Northwest Arkansas that no longer exists, thanks to the Civil War.

Sustainable Saturday- Marrying Soup

My mother in law, recovering last week from surgery, wanted comfort food - a couple of her favorite soups.  She is of Italian heritage, and so my spouse decided to make a soup that was fed to him when he was sleep.

Many Americans know a version of this soup as "Italian Wedding Soup".  (The "wedding", incidentally, refers to the marriage of the ingredients, not marriages of people.)  However, in my spouse's childhood, they knew this soup as Escarole Soup.

This is how my spouse and I made Escarole/Italian Wedding soup last week.

First, earlier in the day, spouse had roasted a turkey breast.  Now, he took the carcass, and made bone broth.  But, because we didn't have loads of time, he "cheated". We added some commercial chicken broth to the bone broth. (Whose broth? My mother in law's local store had Rachel Ray's broth in retorts but spouse has started to use organic free range broth in retorts sold at our local Aldi.)

Spouse strained out the bones and fat. He set aside the remaining turkey meat set aside for the other soup we were making.

Next, it was time for the meatballs.   First, spouse prepared a ground meat mixture.

Spouse made these from part organic ground turkey and part ground beef.  As my mother in law had some Italian seasoned bread crumbs, we added that, too. The meatballs will cook right in the soup.

Next came kale, one of the most nutritious greens there is.

Next, escarole.

Finally, sliced organic baby carrots (non-organic are just fine) went into the soup.  My mother in law had some spinach that was a tiny bit out of date but still good for cooking, and that went in, too.

Finally, pearl couscous. You can cook these right in the soup, too.
If you wanted, you could add some orzo (risoni)instead.  

Time to marry the flavors!

We cooked it until the greens were wilted and allowed some extra time for the flavors to blend. Then, it was eating time, with some Italian bread.


So easy, so nutritious. And, it tasted so good.  My mother in law is a good cook and she gave the soup a thumbs-up.

I hope it sped my mother in law's recovery.  Soup is the most sustaining food you can serve on a snowy winter day.

A snowy tree in my mother in law's yard

Next Saturday, I will blog about the other soup we made.

What is your "go to" food when someone is not feeling well?

She Won on Jeopardy!

In the summer between my freshman and sophomore years of college, I went to Manhattan with two of my high school/college friends, and watched a taping of a game show called Jeopardy!

The set looked a lot smaller than I had expected, but I had a good time, and I came away wanting a job in television. (No, I never got one.) The Jeopardy! I watched being taped, incidentally, was the original Jeopardy! of the 60's and 70's - with the host Art Fleming, immortalized in the above video.

For those younger than 40:  yes, there was an original Jeopardy! that didn't have today's ageless host, Alex Trebek.

For the benefit of those who don't live in the United States, where Jeopardy! is an institution, the game is easy to explain.  You choose from a game board that gives you answers.  You must guess the question.  

The person at the end of three rounds (called Jeopardy, Double Jeopardy and Final Jeopardy) with the most money wins.

It's a game of trivia, and families will gather together to play, shouting questions at the TV screen.

Being able to get onto the actual game as a contestant is difficult. Quite difficult.  Winning is even more difficult.  But one of my high school friends, Priscilla, did it and, this week, her show aired. (Full disclosure, Priscilla is a faithful reader of my blog.  However I can not promise that all faithful readers of my blog will succeed on Jeopardy!)

Priscilla facing a Daily Double Question

She won her first game, beating out her two opponents in Final Jeopardy! by being the only one to question a tough answer correctly.    One of them was a six game champion who is going to use some of her winnings to build a memorial to her late mother. 

The next night, Priscilla was on again.  Someone even blogged about the game.

I wish I could say she went on to win five more games.  But she didn't.  She came in third. She didn't get the Turtle Wax or the Rice-A-Roni.  But, unlike the man in the music video, she was not a complete loser.

What can you say?  Many, many people were cheering for her.

Priscilla and I have some things in common.  We're from the Bronx.  We went to the same high school.  We both grew up "in the Projects" (different ones).  We both escaped.  She's a successful businesswoman. We are both smart, funny people. (I hope I'm funny, anyway). 

She took the leap of faith that she could succeed on Jeopardy!

As far as I'm concerned, she did just that.
(And, in case you are asking, I am not planning to follow her.)

Have you ever been on a television show?

Never Give Up?

I've been a bit out of touch recently with news.

It came as a sad surprise today when I found out, while doing an internet search for something totally unrelated, that a Japanese man by the name of Hiroo Onoda had died earlier this month at the age of 91.

Hiroo Onoda.  He isn't a household name to many Americans, but something he and a handful of other men his age did fascinated me in my childhood and early adulthood.

World War II ended, for most of its combatants, in 1945.  But for a number of Japanese soldiers, later called Japanese holdouts, the war never ended.  Either they refused to believe it had ended or, because no one had given them orders to the contrary, they refused to surrender.

From time to time, they either finally surrendered - or were shot and killed.  I remember the subject of Japanese holdouts came up from time to time in various American TV programs, including the popular show Gilligan's Island.

Hiroo Onoda, a Japanese intelligence officer, had been ordered to spy on American soldiers on the remote island of Lubang, and never to surrender or take his own life.  He refused to surrender until 1974. Originally he was with three other men but eventually he was the last one.

He emerged only after his former commander flew from Japan to convince Onoda that the war was over.  Later, he formally surrendered to Philippine President Marcos, who pardoned him for his crimes.

Over the years, Onoda and his men, still believing themselves at war and surrounded by enemies, had killed some thirty Filipinos.  They raided local villages to survive, stealing food and killing livestock, and sometimes got into fights with the villagers.

Upon his return to Japan, Onoda was hailed as a hero.

I have a lot of mixed feelings about this "last of the holdouts" (noting he may not have been the last.)  Over the years, I met two people.  One was a woman (living in Iowa when I visited my late aunt there) who was a young girl in China during the Japanese occupation and nearly died from starvation.  Another, now deceased, was a former American soldier who had survived being a Japanese POW.  And, I'm sure the families and friends of those who Onoda and his men killed from 1945 until 1974 were not his biggest fans, either.

On the other hand, we teach about persistence, loyalty and devotion to causes we believe in.

Never give up, we teach our children. Fight for what you believe in, no matter what the odds.  How many of us would have done what Onoda did?

In later years, he was quoted as saying “I do everything twice as fast so I can make up for the 30 years. I wish someone could eat and sleep for me so I can work 24 hours a day.”

Finally, Onoda is at rest.