Music Monday - D-Day and the Convoy

On June 6, 1944, over 160,000 Allied troops landed on a 50 mile stretch of French beaches at Normandy to begin one of the greatest invasions of all time.

Many of the dead remain in France.  These are memorials to American dead but there are other graves and memorials for British, Canadian, Australian, French, Greek, citizens of New Zealand, Norwegian, Polish and others who gave their lives that day.

A little less than a year later, Nazi Germany signed papers of unconditional surrender.

It is fitting that, today, I revive my "Music Monday" feature to bring you, my readers, some music of the late 1930's, and the 1940's.

I was not alive in the 1940's, but this was the music of my mother and father.  First up on this mini-hit parade:  Sing Sing Sing, written by Louie Prima.  This version is by Benny Goodman.

This song will get your toes (and all other body parts) to moving.

In The Mood (1939) - Big Band leader and musician Glenn Miller,  noted for this song, was a casualty of World War II.  This is a more recent recording.  The Glenn Miller Orchestra still tours.

G. I. Jive - Johnny Mercer (1944).

Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy - Andrews Sisters (1941).

What were those people fighting for?  The very survival of the Western World.  If you want to get a taste of that world pre-World War II, watch the first two or three minutes of this documentary based on a memoir by the late Edith Hahn-Beer, who passed away in 2009 after a remarkable life. (I highly recommend the memoir,  incidentally.)

Every day, more and more of the "Greatest Generation", so many of whom fell on D-Day, pass away.  We thank those who fought on D-Day for our freedom - some of us, for our very existence.

My last song is not connected with World War II, but, rather, with June 6.  Yesterday, while in the car, I heard a song I hadn't heard in many years.

Years after D-Day, on an unspecified June 6, this song, Convoy, becomes a great hit (reaching the top of the charts in January of 1976).  I loved it; but listening to it now, it sounds a bit dated.  And, for my readers outside the United States, please don't use it to study United States geography.  The "bears" would have had plenty of time to stop a convoy headed from Oklahoma to Chicago to the Jersey Shore.

But it still makes me smile on this special day in history.

Iris Envy

Today, a simple, (and envious) Sunday post about a flower now in full bloom where I live in upstate New York.

Irises.

My bearded irises did poorly this year.  I used to have a yard full of them.  In the past couple of years, many seemed to disappear and more refused to bloom.  Of those that remained, only three of them bloomed this year. 

What did I do wrong?  I suspect it is because I did not divide them.  Or, perhaps, I was struck with iris borers.  Alas.  Irises are so beautiful.

My Kool Aid irises, given to me years ago, have dwindled to one.  I somehow feel I have failed it.

All around me, meanwhile, irises are blooming, seemingly just to mock me.  But I will be strong, and show some of them to you.

Irises come in so many colors, and some are even scented.  They are normally easy to grow, thriving in full sun.  The bearded irises bloom in May and June; there are some irises that bloom in early spring.  Here,  white irises bloom at a church in downtown Binghamton.

Reddish brown.

One of my two irises.  This was one of the few irises that bloomed at my house.

Still other area irises:

Bi colored peach and white.

Sort of peach.

Purple and white.

And light purple.

How can you not love irises?  I just wish I knew what happened to mine.

Slowly but surely, I have replaced my missing irises with day lillies.  But still, a part of me misses them.

We'll see what next year brings.  And, if I'm in the mood, I'll post more pictures this coming week.

What are your favorite flowers?

Throwback Saturday - Filling in a Hole

I originally wrote this post in March of 2013, during a late winter vacation.  A fellow blogger's post about a restaurant in Tybee Island, Georgia, inspired me to rerun this post.  Two different opinions about the same restaurant.  Small world.  Now, the post:

In 2006, I rode the Auto Train for the first time. I traveled with my family from northern Virginia to just north of Orlando, Florida one August.  (I've made this train trip south three times now, the most recent trip being a week and a half ago.)

I've never slept well on the Auto Train, and something happened on that first trip that has become a tradition.

I woke up from a fitful sleep to realize we were traveling through a city.  We were passing under an Interstate, and some large billboards were visible.  One billboard, lit up, advertised "The Crab Shack. Tybee Island."

I didn't have Internet access and had never heard of Tybee Island. But I researched it as soon as I could and found it was an island close to Savannah, Georgia.

The second trip, 2009.  I woke up from a fitful sleep, and as my spouse softly snored next to me, I peeked out of the window and saw - the very same sign.

It was a sign (literally)!  I was being told to eat at the Crab Shack. 

We were supposed to drive through Savannah on the way home but had car trouble, and had to take the Auto Train home.  We swore we would visit Savannah and we did (two years ago) but we never got to eat at the Crab Shack.

This Auto Train trip, earlier in March, we both woke up as we were traveling through Savannah, and my spouse spotted the sign even before I did.  Marveling at this huge (to our sleep-bleary eyes) sign, we decided that yes, we would go to the Crab Shack.  We would fill in this hole in our travels.

So yesterday, we filled in the hole.

From the outside, it looks like a "tourist trap".  But the food (noting I do not get compensated for this or any other review) was good.

Inside, I noticed the restaurant had open walls to the outside - with only a screen between diners and the great outdoors.  If only I could live in a place like that, said my winter-starved inner voice.

Not so fast, said reality, as I saw movement outside the screened in wall.  Can you see what I saw?

No, they weren't lunch

After lunch we went outside, to see some of the 78 alligators the Crab Shack owns. These are all domestic, as in "born in captivity".  The Shack does not tolerate any abuse of the gators by customers, but they were easily accessible (if someone dared) and I hope they have good lives.

Up close, they almost look fake - but they certainly were not fake.

Have you ever eaten in a restaurant because of something you kept seeing?

Falling Friday - Aging Isn't a Place for Sissies

Most of the following post was written in July of 2011, after the wife of my next door neighbor of many years passed away.  Her husband turned 91 earlier this week, and I only hope he knew it.

Why?

Because the last time I talked to him, he had no idea how old he was.  He has followed his late wife down the road of dementia, and it has taken someone who was once a wonderful person and neighbor with it.  He still has some lucid days, but is under 24 hour care at home.

Fortunately, he has a large, loving family.

And now, with some editing, that post:

Today at work, I heard that the mother of a co-worker had passed away.  When I went to the local online obituary, I saw a name I knew well.  Not her, but a different obituary.

It was my next door neighbor of over 20 years.

She had passed away yesterday.  Her death was fall related.

I immediately called my spouse.  He already knew, and, in fact, had just come from their house, where he visited with family for 40 minutes.  (I visited tonight, as out of town family started to arrive.)

Her husband....her widower....seemed to be taking it well.   He said to my husband "She died on the 4th of July.  She went out with a bang."

They had celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary less than a week ago.  In the last stages of dementia, she never knew it.

 I don't care what they say about old age.  It stinks.  It robs us of the essence of what we are.  Don't talk to me about the "golden years".  There is nothing golden about those years.  Those years took the mind and then the life of a wonderful woman, who was loved by everyone who knew her.  My neighbor was a deacon of her church.  She was a retired elementary school librarian.   She did a lot of charity work.  She raised six children and at least, tonight, her husband is surrounded by their very large family. (Her husband was an only child and wanted a large family very much.  He got it, thanks to her.)

She loved romance novels.  She had hundreds of them, and she kept trying to give some to me.  She was an avid reader. She loved to have her grandchildren over to visit.

She spent so much of the last couple of years of her life a prisoner of her living room chair.  Her husband, once a telephone lineman, aged at her side.  He told me, tonight, that "I am happy".  We talked to their youngest son, and he talked about her death.  It was a good death.  About two weeks ago, her voice became very slurred. Then she stopped eating. Then she stopped drinking.  She drifted away, asleep almost all of the time.

She died surrounded by the ones she loved, at home.

Her husband has also has a lot of health problems.    I don't want to say it out loud, but I fear for him now.

They were so much younger and full of energy and love of life when I first met them.  So was my mother in law, and my spouse's aunt who is 99, and my good friend's mother, who is 92 [she passed away in 2013], and....

Like all of us, I must come to terms with my aging.   I may be looking at my eventual fate.  And perhaps that is what is affecting me now, as much as the passing of a woman great in her own way.

As Bette Davis once said "Old age is no place for sissies."

Throwback Thursday - Top 5 Ways Not to Help People After Disasters

This is a repeat of a post from July 2012, with some minor editing.

Watching the reports of flooding in the state of Texas, something seems so familiar.

Because, on a smaller scale, it happened to my part of upstate New York in August and September of 2011.  It seems like natural disasters strike almost every week, all around the world.

I hope you, my dear readers, never have to learn the following lessons first hand.

My post from 2012:

There's a huge market, isn't there, for the "everything was horrible but I/my city/my country overcame, and now everything is hunky-dory" story.

Except, sometimes it just isn't so.

Actually, I think a lot of times it just isn't so.  I hate to be a Debbie Downer here, but the blind don't always see after miracle surgery, the amputees don't always become Paralympic champions, and people who have struggled with the terrible impact of natural disasters don't always get back to where they were before the fire/flood/tornado hit.  And, sadly, that third thing sometimes isn't because of the disaster - but because of scum masquerading as fellow citizens.

I do know a little something about the third topic.  I've gotten to the point where I can talk about well meaning people (and the not-well meaning people and the harm (or the non-help, at best) they sometimes provide.  What I am about to say may not be popular but it is what I have learned out of the truths of what my neighborhood, my town, my area, went through during a natural disaster last September.

We have been conditioned to think that it is so easy to help those in need.  Just text '12345' (or whatever) and presto, you have helped!

Not exactly.

But, dear reader, there are other ways you CAN help.  I compiled this list not that long after the flood that hit my area of upstate New York last September.  I don't want to presume, but I have a feeling this may be of help to others who truly want to help, but don't know how. They feel they have to do SOMETHING.

5.  Don't come out to see us.  No, really, don't.  First, we aren't animals in a zoo, to be stared at.  Please, give us space.  At first we are in shock but then that shock wears off - and really, we don't want you to see our tears, or some of the things we do that may seem bizarre to some, but actually make sense in context.  If you aren't an emergency worker or with a charity that knows what it is doing, STAY HOME.

4.  Don't take pictures of us.  We aren't one of those commercials where charities use pictures of sad, beaten dogs or starving children to get your sympathy and your dollars.  I got so upset at a cousin (at a family event, no less) a couple of months ago when he told me how he wasn't impacted by the flood but he had gone around and taken pictures where his city did flood.  No Kodak moments, please.  Not unless you are a journalist or a historian.

3.  Don't send clothes.  Well, sometimes we do need clothes but not the clothes that get sent so many times - clothes full of stains, holes, and rips.  If you wouldn't wear it, don't send it.

So many people sent clothes after the flood, and charities were overwhelmed with them.

2.  Don't trash our neighborhood.  We aren't your garbage dump, either.  If you carry in cigarettes, coffee, and sandwiches, please take out what they came in.   Respect us.

1.  Don't call us victims.  We are not victims!  And while I am on the topic of victimization, I hope there is a special place in hell for those who went to charities for help that they didn't need (and literally took food out of the mouths of those who needed it).  Or the "contractors" who showed up, but were really scam artists. 

Ten months ago, the people in my neighborhood were very grateful to the volunteer firefighters, who came on 9/11 to pump out basements, the Salvation Army, who served meals, and the many people who did really help: who showed up out of nowhere and started to help with the filthiest of chores or to set up tents and serve meals.  More times than you would think they had been impacted themselves.  Or, they found their workplace closed and just decided to see where nearby the need was greatest.

THAT was true help.  It will not be forgotten.  For many, the road back is long, and as I pointed out before, they may never be in the same place as they were before.

Today, in 2016,  I would add one other item:  a donation to a major organization experienced in disaster relief might be an excellent way to help, if you are moved by the TV stories.  I will never forget how some of my neighbors depended on the Salvation Army for meals.  Or the Red Cross for infant formula.  The relief organizations need money to operate, and have resources to use donations to buy the goods that are truly needed.  There are many excellent local organizations, too, but you have to do research to find them.  Be careful of scammers!

Just don't exploit us in our hour, day, or year of need. I suspect that is what someone impacted by any disaster would say.

Spring Things - A Month of Mays

Today, on the first day of June, I look back on a month of May flowers. 

May is a month where we go from no leaves on the trees to lush growth.  We go from daffodils, through tulips, lilacs, and through so many other flowers.  There is no other month like it during the year.

At the beginning of the month, it was the time of daffodils and tulips.

The month started with daffodils blooming.

Then, a tree whose identity I am not sure about - it is a cherry. perhaps a pin cherry or a black cherry.  But, on May 3 when I took this picture, its blossoms smelled as sweet as honey.

In my neighborhood, the crabapple trees were out by May 10.

White crabapples blooming on May 11.

By May 12, an amazing thing had happened.  The magnolias had come out in early April, and were cut down by a late hard freeze.  The trees sat and sulked.

May 12

And then, suddenly, they started to bloom again, like this one by the Broome County courthouse in downtown Binghamton.  And, for days after, they threw out blooms, sporatically.  You can not keep Nature down.

Creeping phlox at a Newark Valley, NY bed and breakfast May 13, taken by my guest photographer. 

Tulips in my front yard, mid month.

I've published so many pictures of dogwoods, I don't dare post another.  So here, instead, is a columbine from May 16, on the West side of Binghamton.  This purple is my favorite color of flower.

And now, at month's end?  The spireas are fading out.  The lilacs are done.  Now it is the time of azaleas and rhodedendrons.

Azalea, Westover, near Johnson City, New York 5-29

May, alas, is over.  The month of dreams fade away, and the haze of summer begins.

How was May for you?

Remembering Home

Forty two years ago today, I spent my last evening as a resident of New York City.

I was born in Queens and grew up in the Bronx, both boroughs of New York City.  My neighborhood had rapidly changed (and not in a good way) during my teenaged years. I spent my last evening, as I did with so many late spring and summer nights, listening to gang members gathering to wile away the hours under my apartment building window while I dreamed of escape.

I wasn't the only one who dreamed of escape.

The Bronx holds many memories for me.  But it wasn't what I wanted.

I was never a big city person.  While everyone I grew up with (as far as I know) left the Bronx, some never left the city.  But I did.

Although I've been back to the city,  I've only returned to the Bronx a handful of times, most recently a quick drive-through in 2004 to show it to my then-teenaged son.

Every May 31, though, I think about my old childhood neighborhood.

Thanks to You Tube, I can be transported to my old elevated subway stop, and (starting about 2:36) see the housing project where I grew up. (It also amazes me people love these train videos.)

For all that my childhood neighborhood has changed since the late 1960's (and it has changed a lot) some of the old buildings are still there, and it makes my heart ache just a little to see them in this video. 

Even if you don't play the above video, you see a still of a church.  On weekends, I, with other neighborhood children, used to throw rice at some weddings (when they let us).  One of my cousins, in fact, was married in that church.

The funeral home pictured was there when I was growing up, as was the post office.

Now, living in upstate New York, I think of the green hills surrounding me every morning, and I know I made the right decision.  But, sometimes, the urge to visit the Bronx again comes back. 

One day, when things are safer, I may be back, listening to the rhythms of the #2 train, remembering the old Third Avenue El, and walking the streets of my project once again.


Or, it may just be in my dreams.  Sometimes, you can not go back.

Throwback Monday - Memorial Day

This is a portion of a post I wrote for Memorial Day, 2012, which I've repeated a couple of times since with some new material.  Today, I repeat it, with some editing, as this is the 150th anniversary of the holiday.

Memorial Day is the holiday where we honor our war dead.  In recent years, it has expanded to honor the missing.
 
Memorial Day in the United States, sadly, has also evolved into a major shopping event for many people.  It misses the element of what it originally stood for.  I must admit, I have taken advantage of those sales from time to time.

It is also thought of as the "unofficial" beginning of summer.  In my area of Binghamton, NY, the area carousels we are famous for open for the season, as do the lakes, and some other recreation areas.

But in memory of my late father, a disabled (non-combat) veteran of World War II, I will also take some time to honor his memory and those of other veterans I know.   Which leads me to a discussion of how this holiday originated here in the United States.

This holiday, in my youth, was celebrated on May 30.  Today, it is the last Monday of May, to allow many to have a three day weekend.

There are several versions of the origin of Memorial Day.  Some of the stories depend on if you were from the Federal side, or the Confederate side, of the United States Civil War (1861-1865.).  What the stories have in common is that Memorial Day, once known as Decoration Day, originated in a desire to honor the sacrifice of those who died in our Civil War.  The Library of Congress lists several stories.  Here are what are perhaps the two main origin stories:

Waterloo, New York, considers itself the birthplace of Memorial Day, and has a federally recognized Memorial Day museum.  According to this story, Henry Wells, a local druggist, suggested a holiday in the fall of 1865 to honor the sacrifice of Civil War dead.  The idea gained traction, and the first Memorial Day was held on May 5, 1866.

But there are other stories. One takes place in Mississippi, a state late a member of the Confederate States of America.  As that story goes, many of the wounded of the bloody battle of Shiloh (1862) were taken to Columbus, Mississippi.  Columbus ended up with its Friendship Cemetery full of Civil War dead of both sides.  Eventually, the Federal dead were relocated to other area cemeteries.

According to Columbus, the first Memorial Day was held on April 5, 1866, as the women of Columbus decorated the graves of both Federal and Confederate soldiers buried in Columbus.

Mental Floss has more interesting perspectives on Memorial Day. 

Some states of the former Confederacy also have separate holidays, called Confederate Memorial Day, or Confederate Heroes Day.

Regardless of what the "true story" of Memorial Day is, I want to leave you with two modern, local stories.  First, the story of a family of a soldier from Pennsylvania lost in the Vietnam War. 

And a story about a war that has come full circle.  My mother in law's brother fought in the Pacific theatre during World War II, and was wounded at Okinawa.  And now, years later, a chance to honor more memories.

May your Memorial Day today be a meaningful one.

If you do not live in the United States, do you have a holiday to honor war dead?

No Horsing Around with These Trees

At the end of May, the majestic horse chestnuts bloom in the Binghamton, New York area of upstate New York.  This year, they are breath taking.

This tree towers over a two story house

These tall trees feature large, conical shaped, fragrant flowers.

Here is a closeup of the flowers.  These are white; there is also a pink variety grown here, and a yellow variety, which I have never seen.

And another picture.

What are horse chestnuts, exactly?

They are not native to our country, but rather, to the Balkins.  They were introduced into Great Britain in the 1600's.

One thing they are not is edible - in fact, the entire plant, including its chestnuts (in Europe, they are called "conkers") are mildly poisonous.  

Native Americans would make a mash of the nuts and use it to stun fish. They would then have to get rid of the toxins in the fish but it was an effective way to kill fish.


The nuts are edible for horses (and deer); perhaps why they are called "horse chestnuts". Their scientific name is Aesculus (with about 15 species - I don't know which one I took a picture of but I suspect it is hippocastanum).  The trees have an interesting history.

As for conkers, my spouse, growing up near New York City, would play that game.  It was a favorite game at one time in Great Britain.  Now, alas, children entertain themselves in other ways.

But maybe the cell phone-addicted children of today will grow up, and appreciate the majestic splendor of this tree.  I was surprised to learn that the population of these trees, at least in Great Britain, is declining.

And in another couple of days, in our hot weather, these flowers will be gone for another year.

Do you have horse chestnuts where you live?

Local Saturday - Plant it Forward

I work in downtown Binghamton, New York, a small city of about 47,000 people some 150 miles from New York City.

On nice days, I like to eat lunch at tables set up in a courtyard of a county office building.  They have planters there.  Last year they had ornamental flowers.  This year, I noticed they had all been dug up.

Wednesday, when I arrived for lunch, I found this sign near the courtyard.

I researched it further and found that Plant it Forward is a public/private initiative which has just started up.  And, it seems that the county is participating.

This is what has been planted in downtown Binghamton in this courthouse courtyard:

Tomatoes (ard to see, but I wanted to get the entire planter in the picture).

In other, similar sized, planters were peppers, and squash.

I'm wondering if this program is similar to one also named Plant it Forward in Canada, because this one has a corporate ownership.  Is that a bad thing?  Not necessarily, as corporations need to be good citizens, too.  So, in the meantime, we have a small community garden right here in downtown Binghamton.

It may surprise you that I am not hopeful about these gardens.  We've had vandalism problems in downtown Binghamton before.  I blogged about the vandalism of a beautiful urban art display Binghamton tried in 2010.  They never tried it again.

On the other hand, being so close to the courthouse, I'm sure these will be monitored by security.

Will these planters suffer the same fate?  Or, will this initiative succeed?

This summer will be interesting.

Falling Friday - Fear of Falling

As much as the Stepping On program falls prevention program I participated in last year taught me, there is something that they never touched on.  Not directly, anyway.  My guess is, it isn't part of the official curriculum they must follow.  I think this fear goes hand in hand with balance education, however.

That issue is fear.

Fear of falling.

At one of the first classes, the two instructors asked us "How many of you don't go out during the winter unless you absolutely have to?"  More than half raised their hands.  In upstate New York, winters are cold and harsh, with lots of ice and snow.  We can get over 100 inches of snow (254 cm) in a year.  If you don't go out, you are isolated.

But if you have to go out, there are icy sidewalks to deal with.  We've all fallen on them.

I'm only in my 60's, and I am increasingly afraid of winter.

But it gets worse.  Stepping On teaches strategies, with videos and discussions, of how to deal with various situations that result in balance challenges, and that is all good.

I refuse to accept that becoming fearful is a normal part of aging.

I know a senior much older than I am. She lives far from me, so I only see her a couple of times a year.  She lives with someone, but still was somewhat independent.  She had fallen several times, but had never hurt herself. She was petite, feisty, and mentally active.

"I bounce back up like a rubber ball", she said proudly to me, one day several years ago.

Until she didn't.

Until she broke her hip, falling in her bedroom.

One partial hip replacement later, she has many quality of life issues, but one of the worst is her fear of falling. She no longer has flexibility.  She no longer has balance.  She is terrified of having to leave her house because she might fall.

It shouldn't have to be like this, in your final years.

Experts tell us that fear of falling actually leads to an increased risk of falling.  It doesn't sound right, but it does make sense.  And there are ways of dealing with the fear.

It's great that our part of upstate New York has programs to help seniors with balance.  Falling has become a major concentration of the medical community here, as we have a high population of seniors in our area.

But, I feel, it won't do much good without touching on the psychological issues. What good is teaching balance if people have already developed the fear?  How about a class on dealing with that fear and learning to find ways to make it better?

We will see what the future brings for the seniors in our area.  Hopefully, one day, being elderly will not be the same (in too many cases) as being afraid.  And, I believe educational programs will be an important part of this.

If we can develop them.

Is there a program dealing with the direct fears of falling in the elderly in your area?

Throwback Thursday - Watermelon Oreos

The folks who make Oreo cookies are about to release two new flavors - Blueberry Pie and Fruity Crisp - here in the United States.

This reminded me of my love affair with Oreo Cookies.  Although I have more or less broken the Oreo habit due to being on Weight Watchers (not officially, anymore) I miss them.  Here's a post from 2013 where I talk about Oreos and some of the strange flavors they've made.  Since then, even more limited edition flavors have hit U.S. shelves.

In my childhood, there was only one kind of Oreo.  Now, it seems, there are so many.  Maybe, too many.

But I still wish they would bring back the Strawberry Milkshake ones.

Here's my 2013 post:

Would you eat a watermelon flavored Oreo?   

I haven't tried one yet but this inspires me to blog about my favorite cookie:  the Oreo Cookie.
I am still pining away for the limited edition Strawberry Milkshake Oreo. 

The Strawberry Milkshake Oreo.  The best Oreo ever-strawberry creme, chocolate cookie.  (Nabisco, when will you ever bring it back?  And, is it true that it is still sold in Canada even today?)

Yesterday, someone at work told me about a limited edition lemon Oreo (with blonde cookies).  She let me taste a couple today and they are good.  They would be better with the chocolate cookies, but that's not what Nabisco is marketing. (Note: as always, I do not get compensated from anyone for any product review - not that I do them very often). Not cloyingly sweet, like the birthday cake Oreo (ugh) or the candy corn Oreo (double ugh, but I detest genuine candy corn so what was I doing tasting one of these?) or the "this has to be a joke, right?" chocolate creme Oreo.

So I went online to research the lemon Oreos and read instead about the limited edition Watermelon Oreos just introduced here in the United States.

 Could Oreo be outdoing themselves with new flavors?  I've read several online reviews about the watermelon Oreos (again, with blonde cookie) - and people actually like them.  They are not artificially over-watermelonated (is that a word?).  Why they are both red and green is beyond me - and who needs artificial color like this - but I am intrigued.

Of course, two of these watermelon Oreos are 150 calories and a lot of Weight Watchers points.  Too many, considering that REAL watermelon is zero points and lots of nutrition.

But I am intrigued.  If I can get to a Target soon (it's a Target exclusive) I may be tempted to buy a package. (but don't tell my former Weight Watchers leader.)

There are a lot of Oreo flavors that aren't sold in the United States.  Why not?  Perhaps we aren't ready for Green Tea Oreos (which do appeal to me) but why not the tri-chocolate Oreos they sell in Mexico? Each cookie a different chocolate and the creme a third kind of chocolate?  Or mango/orange Oreos?  Or raspberry Oreos?

Come on, Nabisco.  Bring back the Strawberry Milkshake Oreo and bring on the Mexican chocolate Oreo!  You are missing a marketing opportunity!

Have you had any of the "unusual" (to the United States, that is) Oreos?  What did you think of them?

Spring Things - Dogging It

This year, here in the Binghamton, New York area, the dogwoods have been spectacular.  They are fading now, but they have put on such a beautiful show for so much of May.  No dogging it for them.

So why don't I just let them show you.

In the courtyard of Christ Episcopal Church, downtown Binghamton.  No surprise to find one in a church courtyard; dogwoods have much symbolic significance for Christians.

Pink, May 21, west side of Binghamton.

Pink and white.

And one last closeup.

Our weather is turning hot and the flowers will speed by now.  But what a beautiful spring it has turned out to be.

How is your weather this week?

The Impossible Survivor

She doesn't look like much.

May 23

But if you only knew her story, you would know better.  She's a survivor.

Yes, this plant is a "she". Not a botanical "she". Just a she.

 Her name is April Rose, and she is a camilla.

Camillas are plants popular in the Southern United States extending to areas such as Long Island, in New York State.  They are grown in Great Britain, and other parts of the world where it doesn't get much below zero (Celsius, that is) because they can't tolerate too much cold.

I love camillas because they bloom in the winter.  Well, many of them do.  Their flowers are beautiful.  In upstate New York, nothing blooms in the winter, except maybe ice and snow crystals

Never met a camilla? If you drink tea (not herbal tea) you are familiar with one type of camilla, one grown for its leaves.

Living in zone 5b upstate New York, near Binghamton, I despaired of ever being able to have a camilla in my backyard.   Then, last year, we found a nursery in Chapel Hill, North Carolina that specializes in what they call hardy camillas.  They are hardy - for camillas.

Hardy as in being able to survive a winter in Chapel Hill where it went down to -8 (-22C) last year.
So, in 2015, we bought our April Rose and brought it home.  We planted it in a sheltered area in our backyard.  And, lo and behold, we had one of the mildest Decembers and early Januaries on record.
Until, suddenly, it went down to -10 F.  Would the flower buds, already formed, survive?

They did.  The plant, and the buds, survived the rest of the winter.

The buds started to open in April.  But one day, we came home, and the buds were scattered all over the ground.  Heartbroken, we protected the plant, and the few buds it had left, with a fence.

April 23

 No, I didn't blog about that.  I still don't know what animal did that to April Rose.

In the past few days, the remaining buds started to open.  The flowers are smaller than they should be, and it is possible we needed to fertilize the plant (we did so last week).

But my April Rose has done the impossible.

She survived.

She is blooming.

In upstate New York.

She has done the impossible.

Music Monday - Time Waits for No One

This will probably be my last Music Monday, although I may post an occasional music post, depending on my mood.

Allium, West Side of Binghamton, New York

Spring rushes along.  Spring waits for no one at all.

Yesterday, I participated in our community's Sacred Sites Sunday - a New York statewide initiative that has various houses of worship opening their doors for open houses to share their art and history.  What I would like to do, eventually, is devote one day a week to some of the forgotten and (not so forgotten) history of our community.

I learned, at my second Sacred Sites Sunday, that a number of the churches in the Binghamton area community were destroyed by fire at one time or another, yet were rebuilt.  It reminds me of how nothing is permanent. Nothing is forever.

It made me think, too of an 84 year old broadcast journalist, Morley Safer. He retired earlier this month and died just four days after making his final broadcast.

Time waits for no one.  So, on that subject, a couple of songs for my last Music Monday.

Rolling Stones - Time Waits for No One

Driftwood - The Moody Blues (one of my favorite groups).

History, and the human experience.  Time waits for no one at all, not even us.

How do you mark the passage of time?

The Bucket List

There have been several variations of this meme, which has been circulating on Facebook for a few months.  Several of my Facebook friends have played along.

I tend to be a private person, and I don't tell that many personal stories about myself.  But yesterday, a blogger in India noticed that, in a post about my father, I mentioned that he had served in the United States Army Air Force in World War II, and was stationed in India for part of that time.  She asked if I had any memories I could share.

What I do remember is some of the stories of his service that he used to tell me when he put me to bed at night.  One day, I will share them, from what I remember.  I don't remember much, and I regret it.   He didn't talk about his service all that much, and I realize, as an adult, that many of his generation ("The Greatest Generation") never shared their experiences.


With his memories, he also shared several items from what we now call a bucket list here in the States - a list of things you want to see, experience, or do before you die - with me.

While in India, my father was fortunate enough to have seen the Taj Mahal, and wanted to see it again before he died.  He never was able to go back, though.

Two other items on his bucket list, both not accomplished, was seeing New Orleans during Mardi Gras and seeing Washington DC during cherry blossom season.  He never accomplished these either.  And, come to think of it, neither have I.

So, just for fun, I am going to share this meme with you (one version of it) along with my responses.  This isn't a bucket list, but it is still fun to see some of the things I've accomplished or experienced.  And, if you could share an item from your bucket list in the comments, I would love to hear it.

"Bucket List - please play along. You'll be surprised at the responses. Put an "X" in the box if you have done it! Just copy and paste to your timeline (or maybe blog).
( )Shot a gun
( )Gone on a blind date
(X) Skipped school
(x) Watched someone die
(x)Visited Canada
( )Visited Hawaii
( ) Visited Cuba
()Visited Europe
() Visited South America
(X)Visited Las Vegas
( ) Visited Central America
() Visited Asia
( )Visited Africa
(X) Visited Florida
(x)Visited Mexico
(X ) Seen the Grand Canyon in person
( )Flown in a helicopter
( ) Served on a jury
(X)Been lost
( X) Traveled to the opposite side of the country
(x)Visited Washington, DC
(X) Swam in the Ocean
(X) Cried yourself to sleep
(X) Played cops and robbers
(X) Played cowboys and Indians (Indians in my youth, now Native Americans).
( ) Recently colored with crayons
( ) Sang karaoke
( )Sang a solo or duet in church
(X)Paid for a meal with coins only
( ) Made prank phone calls
(X) Laughed until some beverage came out of your nose
(X)Caught a snowflake on your tongue
(X)Had children
(X) Had a pet
( )Been skinny-dipping
(X) Been fishing
(X) Been boating
( ) Been Downhill Skiing
( )Been water skiing
( ) Been camping in a trailer/RV
(X) Been camping in a tent
( )Driven a motorcycle
( ) Been bungee-jumping
(X) Gone to a drive-in movie
(X) Done something that could have killed you
 ( )Done something that you will regret for the rest of your life
( ) Rode an elephant
(X)Rode a camel
(X) Eaten just cookies or cake or ice cream for dinner
(X) Been on TV
( )Stolen any traffic signs
(X)Been in a car accident
( )Been in the Hospital in past 24 months
(X) Donated blood
() Gotten a (speeding) or any other type of ticket in the past 12 months
() Gotten a piercing (ears count)
()Gotten a Tattoo
(X) Driven a manual transmission vehicle
( ) Ever owned your dream car
(X)Been Married
( ) Been divorced
(X)Fell in love
(X) Fell out of love
( ) Paid for a strangers meal
( )Driven over 120 mph
( ) Been scuba diving
( ) Written a published book/story/poetry
(X )Eaten snails

Local Saturday - Armed Forces Day and the Curtain of Shame

Today, in the United States, it is Armed Forces Day, a day "to pay tribute to the men and women who served in our Armed Forces."

It makes me sad and a little wistful when I think of this.

Because it makes me go back in time.  Way back in time, to World War II, before I was born.

My father served in the Armed Forces in World War II.  He was in his mid 20's when war broke out, and had originally been classified 4-F (not physically eligible for military service) when the draft was instituted in 1940.  It may have been the fact that he couldn't hear well in one ear due to his hearing being partially destroyed by a childhood ear infection - that is what happened back before antibiotics were developed.  Or maybe it was his heart murmur.  Or the fact that he had a dependent - a younger brother he was helping to raise after his mother died in 1937.

By 1942, the draft boards weren't so picky.  And his sister, also raising his younger brother, went into the WAVES ("Women Accepted for Voluntary Emergency Service"), the women who served in the United States Navy during World War II.  My father (I'm not sure if he was drafted or he enlisted, knowing he would be drafted - he was 28 by then) went into the United States Army-Air Force.  He served in Arkansas, Mississippi, and in India as a military policeman, and later an airplane mechanic.

In India, a country he loved and always wanted to go back to to visit (he never made it), he suffered a head injury that left him suffering from seizures and other issues for the rest of his life.  Because people didn't speak of these kind of disabilities, we, his family, suffered in silence.  You just did the best you could if you were disabled.  They didn't know much about treating head injuries in those days.  I don't even know how the injury happened, and I didn't even know he had one until I was about eight years old.  Because it just wasn't talked about.  But believe me, the children of these vets knew something was wrong.

There was a curtain of silence and shame.  And it was so wrong.  It still is, today.  Today, on Armed Forces Day, I want to shout from the rooftops:  "Stop the Conspiracy of Silence".  The one that makes our veterans jump through unknowable hoops to get the treatment they deserve.  The job discrimination they (yes, like my father) still suffer.

I know the mothers of two veterans of the Iraq-Afghanistan war. Not everyone is "fine" when they come home.  Some of these vets suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome.  Others suffer from their physical injuries.  There is nothing glamorous about war.  Nothing heroic, when it comes right down to it.

War, as General Sherman once said, is hell.

I salute everyone who works with our disabled veterans, and, in a future post, will blog about a local woman who works with them. But so much more needs to be done.

My heart goes out to each and every veteran this Armed Forces Day.  I won't say "thank you for your service" because that statement has become a cliche.

Instead I will say "Thank you for helping us stay free.  Thank you for making us understand that the price of freedom is sometimes higher than any of us in the civilian world can imagine."

Do you have family in the military of any nation?

Falling Friday - Fear Prevention

Falling.

When you are young, it is no big deal.

Frank Sinatra sang about it in the context of failure - pick yourself up, start all over again.

But, as you age, many have vision issues.  Then, you lose muscular strength.  Eventually, you may even lose the ability to pick yourself up if you fall.  Seniors become fearful.  They stop going out.  They lose their independence, sometimes just from fear of falling.

Experts say one of the leading reasons why we become more prone to falling is because we lose muscular strength in certain areas.  That is why so many anti-falling programs emphasize exercise.

This doesn't mean we have to work out at the gym for hours, either.  The program I participated in last year, Stepping On, recommended eight exercises. Four are done daily and four are done every other day (or, three times a week).

As always, a disclaimer:  if you are prone to falls, have a professional teach you the exercises.  I can't emphasize this enough.  This can be done by a trained instructor or a physical therapist. We were taught by trained instructors and two physical therapists.

I am not a qualified falls prevention instructor, so I turned to You Tube, and I found a video that has instructions for two of the exercises I do.  One, the "sit to stand", I was taught to do daily.  The other, the side leg raises, we do three times a week.

Our instructors taught us that many people do exercises too quickly.  For the "sit to stand" she recommended we pretend we were an elevator.  As we rose, she called out:  first floor! (pause briefly). Second floor! (pause briefly).  Third floor!  (Then the same, as we sat.  Slow and pause.  Slow and pause.

Could it be that exercise, which I hated so much when I was young, may just be the Fountain of Youth we have all be looking for?  Maybe not youth, but it may save us from a cause of decline all too common in seniors.  And that fear, which robs us of quality of life.


Do not go gentle into that good night.

What's in a Name?

 I'm taking a chance. I may end up in Facebook Jail for using a certain word (things like that have happened to others I know).  But hang on, dear readers, and keep reading, because this post is for real. 

In another year, we in the Binghamton, New York area may not be cheering for the team we call the "B-Mets" anymore.  Instead, we may be cheering for the....

Binghamton StudMuffins.

Yes.

In case you don't know what that word after "Binghamton" means, here is what the Oxford English Dictionary has to say.  Go check it out.  I'll wait.

Back?   Are you smiling?  Or frowning?  Or daydreaming about one?

Anyway, if that word becomes our minor league baseball team's name, we only have ourselves to blame.  In fact, it seemed that was all certain people I now were talking about yesterday.

Today, it made the front page of our paper.  No, not the front page of the sports section.  The front page.

It came about like this:  this past year, we got a new owner of the team.  Said new owner decided to run a contest to rename the team.  So now, if you go to a website, you will find this (and this is the link you can use to vote):

"Starting May 17, 2016 through June 1, 2016 we are asking you, the fans, to vote on what will be the new name of the 2017 AA-Mets. Please remember we are looking for a new name that embodies what Binghamton, NY is known for - what makes Binghamton different from any other city in the world. The nominees are..."

There are six selections you can vote for.   And if that word after "Binghamton" wasn't one of them, no one would have cared.

Instead, this contest has now been picked up nationally (including on Sports Illustrated's website) and we in Binghamton don't know whether to laugh, cry, say hurray for what may well be a most impressive PR stunt, or hide our faces in embarrassment.

The website where you vote explains the reason for the choice and again, I quote:
"While tipping a cap to the players on the field, the "Stud Muffins" celebrates the collection of carousel horses belonging to Binghamtonians."

Yeah, right.



That new owner is smart, me thinks.  He made the front page.  He made national publications.  Although I don't think he crashed the Internet.

So, I will ask my dear readers:  What do you think?  And while you are at it, have some fun (just not at our expense), and vote.

Spring Things - Five Shades of White

White, white, and more white.  With, perhaps, a splash of pink.  Spring surrounds me as my spouse and I take an exercise walk in the Binghamton area of upstate New York.

We've been doing it for some four years now.

Enjoy this closeup of a dogwood in Binghamton, New York.

Tulips in my front yard (at the end of the walk.)

An ash tree in bloom, back in Binghamton, shows us its creamy white blossoms.

All white late daffodils, Binghamton.  So much white they washed out.

And still more white during our walk.

The last couple of days, I have walked in a coat due to the unseasonable cold.  But I have faith that the warm weather will come.

Enjoy the season, as it will soon be hot and summery.  And for my readers on the Indian subcontinent, I hope this post sends some refreshing breezes your way.

How was your weather yesterday?