Sustainable Saturday - Shoveling Nemo

(Thank you, everyone who commented on my post yesterday.  So far, my mother in law is OK and with power.)

Here on the East Coast of the United States, a winter storm quickly formed and dumped varying amounts of snow, sometimes in near-blizzard conditions, between yesterday and early this morning.  The Weather Channel named it "Nemo". Portland, Maine got over 29 inches.  We, at our house near Johnson City, New York, got about 5.5 inches.  In the lower Hudson Valley where my mother in law lives, totals varied from about 15 to 21 inches.

When I got home from work last night, the snow was already coating sidewalks and plants.  The look of snow on plants was unusual, almost like foam- this photo does not do it justice.

By 10pm, the neighborhood looked like a winter fairyland, as the snow (the streaks in the photo below) continued to fall.  (This picture, by the way, was taken without flash.)

In the broad daylight of Saturday morning, everything was coated with heavy snow.  Not an ideal snow for someone with a bad back (me) to shovel.

My spouse was exhausted from two hard days of work, and wasn't up to shoveling yet. So, after a walk around the neighborhood, I took a soft broom and started to clean off our car. (Fortunately, we don't have a public sidewalk, but we do have two walks that cross our front yard.)  And, needless to say, the plow had thrown snow up, blocking our driveway.  We weren't going to go anywhere until I got the job done.  Fortunately, neither one of us had to work today.

A couple of minutes into the job, with my back to our street, I heard a man's voice.

"Excuse me, ma'm", a middle aged man said.  "I clean off sidewalks and driveways.  Would you like me to clean your sidewalks and driveway?  I'll even finish cleaning off your car."

He quoted me a price of $20.  We don't have a large front yard, but, that shoveling would have not had a positive impact on my bad back.  We don't own a snow blower, a common machine around here.  Never have.  My spouse didn't want to spend the money at first, but after a couple of evil glares from me, gave in.

We had the money and gave him the job.  I was glad to see that he used a shovel rather than a snow blower - and he was good at it.  The job was soon done and it was done well.  It would have taken me a long time.

A snow blower may not be "sustainable" but it can be worth it for a couple of 60 year old people.  But better yet was giving employment to a middle-aged man.  I don't know if he was rich or poor.  Maybe he was out of work and earning money this way.  Or perhaps he is a contractor in the summer.  I didn't ask, and he didn't tell.

We used to get a lot (80 inches or more) of snow here each winter.  Last winter, we got (at the airport, which gets more than we do) about 27 inches.  We lived here in the record snowfall year, 134 inches, 1995-96. 

Hopefully the "snow drought" continues, and we don't have to think about getting a snow blower in our late middle age.

Were you impacted by Nemo?

Winter Storm Heartburn

So....we are under a winter storm warning here in upstate New York.  So, I am posting early just in case our power goes out.  I think it is just going to be snow where we live (amount unknown) but where my aging mother in law lives, it is going to be a blizzard.  And people who could normally take her in are in the same situation.

This is when long distance caregiving gets interesting, because my elderly relative is so resistant to leaving her home for any reason.  We were able to get her to safety for Sandy (a combination of a relative and a family friend took her in) but this time the caregivers may be in a worse situation than she will be.

We are working on it.  Oh, what fun....please, let me remember this so I don't put my son through this type of thing when my time comes.

Nuclear War - What's In It For You?

A post about - nuclear war?

No, not exactly.  But, the title was so catchy, I couldn't resist.  Just ask any headline writer or any author.  The title of a book, a blog post, or a newspaper article, plays a major role in hooking the reader.  So, my reader, you have been hooked.

Of course, the writer or author then has to reel its reader in.

I follow a blog called "Awful Library Books".  It is written by two public librarians in Michigan.  They consult with other libraries on various topics, including weeding their collections of books that are outdated - a process also called "library deselection".

During that process, they blog about books they find that are just plain awful.  When you look at a "topical" book from the 50's (yes, 50's books still in library collections!), the 60's, 70's, or even 80's through the lens of the 2nd decade of the 21st century, you find some books just haven't aged well.  Sometimes the outdatedness is hilarious.  Sometimes, scary.

Sometimes, sobering.

Today, the Awful Librar Books bloggers wrote about a book called "Nuclear War - What's In It for You?" by the "Ground Zero Project"  It dates from 1982.  Besides having a catchy title for a blog post, it asks you: "Why Do You Feel Scared with 10,000. Nuclear Weapons Protecting You?"

Good question. 

I grew up in the "duck and cover" days and we in the United States had lots of nuclear weapons pointed at the then-Soviet Union.  Trouble was, the Soviets had as many pointed back at us.  Yes - many of us put this into one corner of our minds and went about our daily lives.  What else could we do? But, to this day, when I hear a siren go off or see a flash of sunlight out of the corner of my life - for one instant, I know my time is up.


I found this book on Amazon (it seems to be out of print, though) and two people reviewed it - both people gave it a positive review.

The book talks about a nuclear attack on a major U.S. City - Detroit, to be exact.  (no comment). It describes the first nuclear war (yes, World War II, where the United States used 100% of its nuclear weapons).  It talks about the U.S.-Soviet Arms race I grew up during.  It even talks about "Star Wars" (not the movie, but something my generation will recognize.) 

But, although outdated, this book teaches a lesson it probably never intended to teach.

The more things change, the more they stay the same.

We are still scared.  Only the names have changed.

Once again, nostalgia ain't what it is cracked up to be.

Winter Wednesday - Winter at the Botanical Garden

Perennial and tree gardening does not end with the first frost.

Even during winter, certain plants can shine (some almost literally) - obviously, not through their foliage or their flowers. But plants are more than their foliage and their flowers.  Their very limbs - visible with the leaves gone - can be fascinating.

Consider these dogwoods (all pictures taken February 2 at Cutler Botanical Gardens, Binghamton, New York)

This Red Dogwood does glow.  This picture doesn't give it justice.

Yellow

Red and Yellow together. 

Cutler actually had two varieties of red dogwoods. Aren't they lovely?

Other trees provide winter interest, too.

Next week - more Winter Interest plants.

Do you grow plants specifically for winter interest while they sleep?  Or, do you live for the growing season?

Will the Mayans Have the Last Laugh?

Is it going to be the end of the world as we know it?  Were the Mayans right after all, give or take a couple of months with calendar changes, Daylight Savings Time, or whatever?  (No, please don't panic - at least not yet.)

Do you believe that the asteroid 2012 DA14 is going to miss the Earth on February 15?

After all, it is going to get closer to Earth than the moon, and even closer than a number of satellites.  (Even the International Space Station!) Back in the 1960's I would have said "Far out, man!"

It is going to zip by so quickly that observers in Eastern Europe, Asia and Australia will have to know exactly when and where it will be in their sky.  (They will need a telescope or binoculars.) We in North America?  It will be too dim for us.

Now, though, just imagine if the scientists and their calculations are wrong.  Don't misunderstand me.  I - should I say I am a firm believer in science?  Or, that I have faith in science?  I need a little English Language jump-start here.

I do know, however, that scientists can be wrong.  Just because computers say something is fact doesn't mean it is fact. Scientists have been known to make math errors.

I remember The Mars Metric Mistake of 1999. Oopsies! (Goodbye, Mars Climate Orbiter).  OK, this was an English/metric conversion error but it happened, and it has happened more than once.

In other words, miscalculations are always possible.  No, it isn't time to panic or quickly build a fall out shelter.  And I'm not about to engage in conspiracy theories based on "the government" knowing something and not telling us.

So - not speaking as a scientist but as a layperson - my understanding is that this asteroid will be over the Indian Ocean when it comes closest to the Earth.  And let's say those calculations are wrong....

There are some seismically active areas (remember Krakatoa?) in this area where the Indian Ocean and the Pacific meet on the borders of Indonesia.

Now think of an asteroid turned meteor the size of (as it's been described online) a "Safeway" plowing into the Indian Ocean, possibly triggering an earthquake.  The Indian Ocean is prone to tsunamis. (Remember December 26, 2004?)  If it ends up in the Pacific, well, there is the Ring of Fire.

 And, what about all the water vapor that would be created in the instant of impact?

This asteroid will not destroy the Earth if it impacts us.  But it would cause some serious damage to some place on our planet, and could indirectly lead to thousands of deaths.

But, take comfort.

There are a couple of people well versed in science who read this blog.  I am sure they will set me straight.

But, unlike the "Mayan Apocalyse", which I never dreaded for a minute, I am going to be just a little on edge - until February 16.

The Wit and Wisdom of Google

Google's search autocomplete function sometimes brings some hilarious results.  Or fascinating results.  Sometimes, a combination of the two.

Today, at work, I did a search starting with the word "Are". (Yes, I do legitimately have reasons to do research at work.)  The choices Google Autocomplete gave me to complete my "Are" query were, with my answers:

1. Are mermaids real?

Would you believe that a U.S. Government agency, NOAA, has answered that question?  Sorry, fans of Ariel, the short answer is "no evidence has been found".

But then, the NOAA website goes on to state that many seafaring peoples have legends of "aquatic humanoids". 

Has anyone studied this?  

2. Are we there yet?

No. And why do you want to know?

3.  Are shingles contagious?

According to my internet research, yes, if you do not have immunity to chicken pox.

4. Are vampires real?

Surprisingly (to me, anyway) - sort of.


Have you had interesting experiences with search engine autocomplete?

Civil War Sunday - Fighting Joe Hooker and What Isn't In a Name

As my regular readers know I enjoy American Civil War trivia, especially when it takes an unexpected turn.

On January 26, 1863, General "Fighting Joe" Hooker was given command of the Union Army, the latest of a series of failed generals at leading that army.  Lincoln was looking for a general who would be an aggressive fighter, and it seemed that Hooker would ft into that role.

He didn't succeed as head of the Union army, and his failures led to the Battle of Gettysburg, but we are getting way ahead of ourselves.

Because of his reputation for hard drinking, hard partying, and a "wild" lifestyle with the ladies despite being married, there is one thing General Hooker is generally given credit for - which turns out not to be true, after all.

Many people who do not study the Civil War know one piece of common trivia, which is that women who engage in the world's oldest profession have many names, among them "Hookers".  Guess where that name came from?

As the story goes,  General Hooker, eager to engage in his favorite lifestyle, turned his headquarters into - well, a red light district of sorts. The women so attracted to Hooker and the soldiers under his command who took advantage of the situation were, therefore, called - Hookers.

And still are today.

Nice story.  Except it isn't true, according to my research.

It would seem that the name may date from around 1835, referring to an area of New York City, shaped like a hook, that was used as a red light district for sailors.  And, it is possible the word's origins are even earlier, into the 1600's.  Not a bad 400 year run for a word that supposedly originated during the Civil War.

Apparently, advice columnist Ann Landers, of all people, helped to set us straight.

There still is more than enough Civil War trivia to keep us all entertained. Sorry, General.

Sustainable Saturday - Groundhog Day

I majored in cultural anthropology in college (about 40 zillion years ago) in a college in my native New York City.  One of the first things I learned was to study my own culture with the detachment a cultural anthropologist would use when out in the field.

That is why Groundhog Day gives me such enjoyment.  Americans love to read about the "strange customs" of other people. I wonder how many of them give the same thought to themselves. 

Once a year, they gather together in a small town in Pennsylvania, with much ceremony, to see if some poor groundhog by the name of Punxsutawney Phil will see his shadow or not.  TV networks in the States broadcast this live every February 2.

To my readers in Europe and Down Under, I am not making this up.  (there are several other regional groundhog weather forecasters, including Staten Island Chuck in New York City. But P. Phil is the most famous.)

This is what our local groundhog would have seen today, in my neighborhood in upstate New York.

This is NOT Punxutawney Phil.

No, instead, this is Punxutawney Phil.

This year he (and Chuck) did not see his shadow, meaning we will have an early spring.  Or will we? Last year, the groundhogs saw their shadows, meaning six more weeks of winter.  Of course, then, we had the warmest spring on record.

I must admit, I do not have many warm and fuzzy feelings when it comes to groundhogs.  They have eaten too much of my gardens over the years for me to ever do anything nice for them. 

It's true the sustainable lifestyle means paying close attention to the clues Nature gives us, but I think dragging one out so it can see its shadow on live TV is a bit much.

Do you believe groundhogs can predict when spring will come?

A Little Attention to Detail

There is a wonderful site called Despair.com.  They sell a poster about mistakes.  It shows a sinking ship that looks like the Titanic sinking, with this caption:

It could be that the purpose of your life is only to serve as a warning to others.

The same can apply to disasters.  In too many disasters, some attention to detail could have prevented the disaster, or made it less deadly.

Sometimes we don't learn from disaster.  Sometimes we do.

Today is the 10th anniversary of the breaking apart and destruction of the space shuttle Columbia, during its reentry into the Earth's atmosphere.  A wing was damaged during liftoff.  A chunk of foam insulation broke off and hit a wing panel.

They didn't think it was fatally seriously.  They were wrong.  Seven astronauts never returned to Earth alive.

Now, the recovered debris sits silently as part of a special program at the Kennedy Space Center - its continuing mission, to educate.  

It educates those who are able to attend.  They find out why the accident happened, what we learned, and what changes were made.

The Columbia's original mission was an educational mission, so in a way, its destruction earned it a kind of immortality - and it continues to educate, 10 years later.  But its mission has changed - it now teaches the lessons of its own destruction:

-Don't assume something that looks minor is minor

-Always pay attention to detail

-Good can come from bad

The space program (more or less) has ended.  But the educational mission of the Kennedy Space Center, and the shuttle Columbia, continues.

The Dreaded Phone Call

There's one thing every caregiver dreads, and knows she or he may get one day.  I thought about that a lot today, at the end of an interesting January.

The Dreaded Phone Call.

I can remember back in my 30's, when I lived about 1400 miles away from my father.  My father was in his early 70's and suffered from various health problems.  I was fortunate because his younger sister was his caregiver.  Still, I feared for the day I would receive The Dreaded Phone Call.

And one evening, in January of 1986, it came.

I'm only at the beginning of my present long distance care giving journey with my mother in law, and I've already found so many "fellow travelers"in co workers and people I meet in other settings. (I will note here that when I was growing up in the 50's and 60's, "fellow traveler" meant something completely different.  Maybe it still does.)  Some of them have already received The Dreaded Phone Call.  Others await it.

It isn't necessarily a "someone has died" phone call at 10pm, as you prepare for bed.

For one fellow traveler, it came right before Christmas when she got a phone call telling her that her fiercely independent 90 plus year old mother in law had broken her collar bone in a fall.  It would be the end of the in law's independence and the beginning of countless hours of stress for this fellow traveler.

For another fellow traveler, it came today in the early morning, when a relative called to say her mother had fallen, and he couldn't get her up by himself. Between the two of them, they finally got her up.

But then, she fell again.

The fellow traveler was realistic.  She knew she would get these calls again and again, until one day, when she knew she would get the true Dreaded Phone Call.

I am one of several long distance care givers for my mother in law.  We are quite aware that we may be watching what will happen to us in 20 or so years.  And we wonder, why does it have to be that way?  We all - all of us - have to make it up as we go along. There are no manuals.

Our aging parents, so many times, haven't made plans for this day.  And you know what?  They were care givers for their parents.  They should have known better, right?  Well, will we know better?  Will we remember what our parents put us through and not put our own children through it?

Or will the cycle continue, generation after generation?

When will each of us generate our own Dreaded Phone Call?

Winter Wednesday - What Season Is It Now, Anyway?

Here is a quiz for my loyal readers.

Here in upstate New York, this has been the recent weather:

Monday: started with snow, changed to freezing rain, still had a little ice on the ground when I left work in late afternoon, almost slid exiting the building.

Tuesday: still ice on the sidewalks in the morning. Then it melted.  Then it got really dark and poured.  Then a warm front came through.

Today: Started at 43 degrees, got up to 60 degrees (the record was 52 - goodbye!), now it is raining and 53 degrees.  It's 9pm and it's still warmer than the former record high!

Tomorrow:  should be near 40 at 6am but should be in the 20's by sunset.

Friday: low of 19?  (that is above normal for us for February 1.)

So the question is:  Is this winter?  Is this spring?  Is this a new season called Sprinter?  What season is it now, anyway?

Is this happening where you live, too?

The Secrets of Aging Well

The Spanish explorers of Florida were looking in the wrong place for the Fountain of Youth.

The Fountain of Youth may be just around the corner.  We may pass it on our daily rounds.  We just don't recognize it when we see it.  The Fountain may be hiding in a health club, or in a local park, or on a walking path.  It may be in a garden, or a library.

I haven't met anyone who can grant me immortality, but I talked Saturday with a woman who has worked with the elderly to improve the quality of their lives for some 40 years.  She shared with me the two key things she has found that people who age well do.  These are the two things all of us must do to age well.

1.  Socialize
2.  Exercise. Keep moving but especially, concentrate on exercises that build balance.

It's as easy as that.  And as difficult.

As we get older, our friends move away, perhaps to seek warmer climates or to be closer to their grown children.  And, eventually, if we live long enough, our same-age friends die.

It becomes like high school again.  We need people but it is so hard to approach them.  Where do you do it?  How?  Will you be laughed at?  Rejected?  Even people who were once extroverts find themselves isolated, finding their only companionship in the TV set.  They become depressed.

If we do not move enough, movement becomes more difficult.  We decline, first little by little, and then it starts to accelerate.  One day we realize we don't have much balance anymore.  We slip on a throw rug.  We fall in the bathtub.  We hurt ourselves.  We gain weight.  We become even more inactive.

According to this expert, the vicious cycle of isolation and lack of movement can be broken.  We are hoping that this cycle, which has taken hold with my elderly mother in law, can be stopped and reversed. Muscle and balance can be improved, even in the mid-80's.  With that, my mother in law might be able to once again enjoy activities she used to do with friends.  She may never be able to participate in a bowling league again, but there are other possibilities.

It does take a lot of work, once the cycle takes hold, to break it.  So, in my self-study on how to age well, I now know I can never let the cycle take hold.  At 60, it isn't too early to start wondering how I will make and keep friends once I retire.  These are my challenges:

1. I am an introvert. But I must make the effort now to reach out to people. And some of these people must be young people - people in their 20's, 30's and 40's. It sounds morbid, but I need friends who will outlive me.  I don't need to force friendship and I won't.  I have never been a joiner, but it is time to join with people to share some of my interests, and see if friendship develops.

2.  I think I may be exercising enough, but I really am not.  It is time to add something such as tai chi to my routine.  Or even, develop my own program of balance exercise.  Walking and water zumba are not enough.

I must find my fountain of youth.  I know it is possible.

Have you found your Fountain?  Where did you find it?

In Case of Disaster

The full moon.  It fascinates all of us.  So hard to believe that mankind last walked on the moon nearly 40 years ago, and may not return in my lifetime.

So hard to believe we are no longer running a manned space program, when it was such a part of my childhood growing up in the 1950's and 1960's.

The moon.

(Full Wolf Moon, taken yesterday in Putnam County, New York, courtesy of RamblinwithAM).

On January 28, 1986 the shuttle Challenger exploded approximately 73 seconds after its liftoff from Cape Kennedy, Florida. All seven astronauts aboard perished, including a  high school teacher, Christa McAuliffe, the first civilian scheduled to go into space.

The space shuttles were grounded for two years.  Of course now, the program is over.  Dead.

I sometimes wonder if the Challenger explosion, 27 years ago today, somehow was the beginning of the end of the United States manned space effort.  It was a pivotal moment for an entire generation, who remembered where they were and what they were doing the same way my generation remembered the assassination of President John F. Kennedy in 1963.

But, in 1969, we did something more dangerous than sending up a space shuttle.  We sent three astronauts to the moon for the first time, using technology more primitive than that of 1986.  Especially of some concern was the moon lander, which also needed to launch the two moon landing astronauts back to the mother ship.  Obviously, it had never received a full manned field test on the moon.

What would have happened, if the mission had failed and the astronauts had been stranded on the moon?  Have you ever wondered?

It turns out that our government was prepared, with instructions on how to proceed, and a speech was even written for the President - written by someone who went to my high school,  the late William Safire.

It's a sobering speech, and one that was not needed.

But when I look at the moon - I still wonder - had the Challenger not exploded, would man have returned by now?

Civil War Sunday - The Uncovered Wreck

The naval aspect of the United States Civil War tends to be ignored by many people, as readers of my Civil War Sunday posts know.  It isn't easy to walk on the sites of naval battles, or to visit the sunken results of these battles.

Ships aren't always destroyed in battle. Some sink in bad weather. Sometimes no one knows exactly why.

I am fascinated by shipwrecks.

There is the H.L Hunley, a Confederate submarine wrecked in 1864 for reasons still unknown.  I was able to visit what is left of it in North Charleston, South Carolina last year, where the wreckage is being studied and, as much as possible, being restored.

There is the ironclad USS  Monitor, a portion of which was built from materials harvested near where I live in upstate New York. (It was the Monitor that started me on this fascination, so many years ago, when I learned about the "Battle of the Ironclads" in elementary school.)

But now, we are being given an unprecedented opportunity, thanks to 3-D sonar, to view the wreck of the USS Hatteras, sunk in the Gulf of Mexico 150 years ago this month.  The wreck wasn't discovered until the 1970's.  Now, recent storms have shifted the sea bottom mud off the wreck.  It could be covered again at any moment.  Time is of the essence.

The Hatteras was part of a naval blockade waged by the Union to cut off an important supply chain of the Confederacy. It was unlucky enough to be the only Federal ship sunk in the Gulf of Mexico, much of its crew taken prisoner.

Now, online, we can view a piece of history.

In my youth, I would have said "how cool is that?"

Sustainable Saturday - The Gardening Hot Stove League

It is a cold, sunny winter day in New York State.  Time for some garden hot stove leaguing.

Back when I grew up, baseball fans described their off-season fantasies as the "Hot Stove League".

Most of us haven't heated with wood or coal in years (the "Hot Stove") but winter gives us, in colder climates, the pleasure of rerunning our last garden in our mind, analyzing its successes and its failures.  So, why not a Gardening Hot Stove League.

Dream of the garden to come.  The garden that will be perfect.  Everything we plant will come up.  Nothing will be eaten by insects, rabbits, groundhogs, or deer.  The soil will be fertile, the pests nonexistant, and the yields bumper.

Yeah, right.

But, since hope is a strong emotion, we sit with the seed catalogs, old and new.

One of the new catalogs I ordered was from a company in Kansas which imports seeds from Italy.

The company is called Seeds from Italy. They are a seed catalog company offering vegetable seeds, herb seeds, and flower seeds imported from Italy from the seed company Franchi Sementi.  Of course, I had never heard of Franchi Sementi, but apparently they are Italy's largest family owned seed company.  More impressive, they have signed the Safe Seed Pledge. 

They pledge not to sell seed from genetically modified plants.

The Hot Stove League is not only a time to dream about spring and our next garden.  It is a time to put beliefs into practice.  

Will you join me in the Gardening Hot Stove League? (If you are in a warmer or summer clime, feel free to join in, too.)

Have you found any new seed or plant catalogs this year that fascinate you?

Happy 101st Birthday

Happy 101st birthday, Aunt T!

One of my spouse's aunts celebrates her 101st birthday at an Irish pub near where she lives in downstate New York.

Last week I started to blog about aging and my using my mother in law (who is in her 80's) as an example for both the good and the bad things she did that have led to her challenges in aging.  Some of her mistakes were not intentional - medicine of the time just didn't know better.  And, despite trying to "eat right and exercise", there were no warnings to seniors 25 years ago about working on their balance.  I hope I can learn from her mistakes - and the things she did do right.

But if I really want to know about aging, I don't have to look any further than her sister in law.

Our family birthday woman is a sharp senior who, until the last few months, enjoyed relatively good health free of prescription meds.  I wish I had her memory. 

Much of her life was not easy, and was full of physical work.    She's always been active.  That might explain how, until a few months ago, she kept house and cooked for herself and her son, himself a "senior.

She's been a widow for almost 40 years, but that never stopped her.

She believes in fresh vegetables, and lots of them.  She's told me stories of gathering wild broccoli, and eating violets.

She keeps up with current events, and very much lives in the present.  She loves a good discussion.  She is loud, and vocal, in defending her opinions.

She's just as quick to tell you how much she loves you.  And I love her so, too.

She has a wonderful zest for life.

Sadly, physically, things could be a lot better for her. She has lost almost all of her teeth.  She is severely stooped over from osteoporosis.  And now, health issue are cropping up. She's been hospitalized twice in the last several months, and now needs home health care.  Physically, she can be called "frail" but in the mind - where it counts - she is a powerhouse.

I will continue to use her as one of my role models, along with my mother in law.  Their lives have become lessons in how to age (for good or for not good.)

Happy 101st birthday, dear aunt in law.  I love you.  Did I mention that?

Do you have a special elderly person in your life?

The Word That Dares Not Speak Its Name

I apologize to my readers.  I have let fear of not being "politically correct" affect some of my blog posting.  There is a word I must use, and yet, I fear to, because of the power it had over so many people.  That power must be destroyed.  Many have been working towards its destruction, and I must "get real" (as a blogger named Michelle who co-runs the Ultimate Blog Challenge tells us) and add my efforts.


I rarely write about one person who is important in my life.  That man is one of my brother in laws.  He is in his 50's, yet has been almost invisible to most people for much of his life.

He has a developmental disability called autism.

Back when he was born, the term "autism" was unknown to most people.  I know that I had never heard of it although one of my favorite aunts, unknown to me, acted as an advocate for another relative who had a child with autism. I never knew that, in fact, until the aunt was eulogized at her funeral.

Meanwhile, I never dreamed I would marry a man who had a brother with a developmental disability.  But I did. I learned, later on, that there were siblings who never married.  Either prospective mates were scared off, or, worse, the sibs were afraid to give birth to a child with the same disability.  Sadly, enough of those feelings still exist.

When my brother in law was young, there was a place in New York State called Willowbrook.   To anyone of my generation who grew up in the New York metropolitan area, the mention of Willowbrook brings chills.  Feelings of disgust.

Willowbrook was a "state school" for people with mental disabilities.

No, that isn't quite right.  I am going to take a deep breath and type in my blog, a word so loathsome, that many do not dare utter it today.  But the word was common in 1972, the year a local WABC-TV reporter by the name of Geraldo Rivera did an expose on the place called Willowbrook.  It was a common word when I grew up.  It was the word I was taught, by a type of societal osmosis, to use to describe people like my brother in law.

The word was "retarded".

Willowbrook was a place where "retarded" people lived, and, basically, underwent state-sanctioned torture.  There is no better way to speak this terrible truth.

Thank the good Lord that my brother in law was not sent there.  Did it ever cross my in laws' mind?  I tend to doubt it.

But my brother in law did receive services from an organization called the "Association for Retarded Children" (later, the "Association for Retarded Citizens". And the state agency that served people like my brother in law?  Until a handful of years ago, it was called OMRDD, or the Office of Mental Retardation and Developmental Disabilities.

No more, no more.  The name "Association for Retarded Citizens" was abandoned years ago. OMRDD is now OPWDD, the Office for People with Developmental Disabilities.  Amazingly, that name change happened less than three years ago.

A society that allowed those who are intellectually challenged to be called "retarded" also permitted a place like Willowbrook to exist.  In fact, Willowbrook existed until 1987.  Many of its former residents are in their 50's and 60's now.  Parts of their lives were stolen from them.

But the word "retard" lives on.  Young people still insult and bully others with that term.  And yes, there are those who will condemn me for even daring to use the word at all.  Yes, its use is that charged with negative meaning. But I must be real, and I must use that word.

My brother in law is not "a retard". In fact, he is far from stupid.  I have a feeling he knows more than any of us will ever realize.  Part of his disability is his difficulty in communicating with others.

I bet he knows he does not want to go back to the "good old days", the days of "retards" and Willowbrook.

We must go forward in our understanding, forward in our acceptance of those with autism and others different from us.  We must never hide them away again.  They are a part of us.

And we must make sure a place like Willowbrook never, ever exists again.

Winter Wednesday - Blooms and Winter

In certain places, flowers bloom, and people are happy. 
Here's why I am happy tonight:

For only the second time in my life, I have succeeded in getting an orchid plant to rebloom.

Right now there is only one bloom, and I am holding my breath.  It's been cold outside - lows in single numbers and highs in the teens cold - with wind - but we are shielding the plant, and another bud looks almost ready to open.

Meanwhile, baby, it is cold outside. In my house near Johnson City, New York, my spouse fixed a wonderful pot of turkey broth soup (turkey necks on sale) with veggies and some noodles, and a hint of hot pepper.  We are trying to beat a cold wave that has descended on us, like many other parts of the country.


Here's one photo I took back on January 13, before the cold hit, but I would be surprised if this brook was frozen over.  That's the kind of winter we've had.

Meanwhile, despite the cold, we have little snow cover here in the valley.  If you've heard of places in upstate New York that have received over two feet of snow recently - well, it wasn't us.

So, I end this Winter Wednesday with this little decoration I found in a restaurant. 

I don't want to walk in it, I don't want to shovel it, and I certainly don't want to travel in it.  But snow is necessary to our ecology here in New York and a little more snow this winter wouldn't hurt.  But no ice, please.

Just snow.

Have you accomplished something recently that you are proud of?

Nostalgia Still Isn't What it is Cracked up to Be

A summer evening in Brooklyn.  I am visiting a childhood friend.  We've known each other for 50 years.  You can't get more nostalgic than that.

A familiar bell rings in the distance.

It's the Mr. Softee truck!

Mr. Softee was one of the staples of growing up in New York City, along with the Good Humor man.   But I hadn't had a Mr. Softee in - oh, 50 years?

I didn't even know they existed any more.

I had to have a Mr. Softee.  My friend's husband bought me my favorite, a soft vanilla cone. No sprinkles, no gunk, just pure vanilla pleasure.

Do you know what happened?  I had already eaten dinner, and I ended up with a stomach ache.

Sometimes, that's what happens when you try to relive your childhood.

No, nostalgia sometimes isn't what it's cracked up to be.

What is nostalgia?  One definition I found (Wikipedia) says:

The term nostalgia describes a sentimental longing for the past, typically for a period or place with happy personal associations

As we age, we find ourselves slipping into nostalgia more and more.  Just today, I was part of a conversation that turned to encyclopedias.  Remember encyclopedias?

As a 20-something participant in the conversation listened in amazement, the others in the conversations (mostly people in their 50's) talked about parents scrimping and saving so we could have a set in our homes.  By the time they were paid off, (even before that!) they were obsolete.  Then, our parents would have to buy yearbook supplements so they would be up to date. Until the next year.

The 20-something mused "And now we have the Internet."

Yes, we do.  We hold the greatest library man ever created in our hands, and on our laps.

I can miss many things about my childhood.  I engage in nostalgic thinking.  But when it comes down to it, the present, in many ways, isn't so bad after all.  The Internet.  Modern medicine (I wouldn't be alive without it.)  Thin and light eyeglasses.  Whole grains, and organic produce, available in the local market.

Would you rather live in the "good old days"?

An Ordinary Day in 1986

Could I ever live a day like January 21, 1986 again?

I remember so many details of that day because my father died suddenly that evening.  When bad things happen, small details stick in your mind, never to vanish.

It was an unusually warm day.  The high temperature where I lived in Arkansas for the month of January, 1986 was 75.  It may not have been on January 21 but it may have been.  It was sunny, and wonderfully warm.

At lunch, I sat outside, near the office where I worked, and - wrote a letter.

Such an ordinary thing.  This was before the age of the Internet.  People wrote letters to each other  As I recall, the letter was to an aunt, an aunt who never did buy a computer, and who wrote letters to the last day of her life in 2003.

That evening, I got a phone call from my aunt back in Brooklyn that my Dad had been brought to a hospital, he had died in the emergency room and "no one knew why".

That's how you got hold of someone in a hurry in those days. No cell phones, no texting.  You picked up a landline, wired to your home, and called.  In those days, long distance wasn't cheap, either, but it was cheaper than when I was growing up in the 50's and 60's.

I called the airline I knew served our area - on a landline, of course-and booked the next flight to New York City.  I got the number from something called The Yellow Pages.

There was no other way to book a flight, short of turning up at the ticket counter at the airport.

In those days, there was little security on airlines.  You packed your bag, not worried about the contents, got a paper ticket, maybe went through a metal detector after emptying your pockets, and boarded.  I packed, numbly, after calling my boss.  The next day, I flew from Arkansas to New York.

It was such an ordinary day, January 21, 1986.

Today, it would be extraordinary.