First Day of Fall 2018

The first day of fall in the Binghamton area of upstate New York turned out to the the opposite of what the summer has been - cool (estimated low for tonight 42 degrees) and breezy.  And we have another break in the rain.

In the stores, everything is pumpkin spice.  Cookies, cereals, spreads, yogurt, you name it.

The crickets are chirping slower and slower.

The trees in downtown Binghamton are starting to turn, although this may be stress from all the rain.

In my yard the signs of fall are all there.

Some years ago, a nursery in Ithaca, NY gave us an aster plant and it is in full bloom.

Sedum colors up in my front yard.

The mums  are budding.  They were gifts to my mother in law in May, who was in a long term care facility (she has been hospitalized for nearly a week now - I'll provide an update in a few days).  We planted them when their blooms faded, just to see what would happen.  I doubt they will survive the winter, though (these types of mums don't tend to be hardy in our climate.)

And in our community garden, zinnias are about the only thing remaining.

Fall is a time of changes - and a time to be retrospective, as the first cold winds blow, and as I watch my mother in law in what will probably be her last few months of life.

But it's a part of the life we all cherish, while we are able to enjoy it.

Last Week of Summer Skies - #SkywatchFriday

By the time the first clouds from what remained of Hurricane Florence started passing over the part of upstate New York where I live, it was no longer a hurricane.  But it was still a threat (although, of course, not anywhere near what the southeastern United States experienced).

The first of the clouds were beautiful, though.  I was at a free outdoor concert Sunday put on at the edge of downtown Binghamton, New York called Blues on the Bridge.  It had been a clear, very warm day but that was about to end.

As the golden hour progressed, the hills glowed, almost like fall foliage.

As the sun started to set, I was more interested in the sky than the music, and my spouse and I left the concert to go home.

As my spouse drove west, I kept clicking.

And finally the sunset erupted in fire.

This time, the red sky at night did not result in a sailor's delight.

My heart goes out to those affected by the full strength Florence.

This, and most every Friday, I join Yogi and other bloggers who watch the sky at #SkywatchFriday

The Joining of Two Rivers

Years ago, when I lived in Wichita, Kansas, there was a belief held by some that our city would never be hit by a tornado because being located at the confluence of two rivers protected us from those dreaded events.

I don't know if that's true, but I've lived near a city with another confluence for many years now.

Confluence Park is a park on the edge of downtown Binghamton, New York where the Chenango River meets up with the mighty Susquehanna.

This is the historic Washington Street bridge, which is now a pedestrian-only bridge, spanning downtown and the South side of Binghamton.

Confluence Park sign (sorry, not too readable)

Roses.

Zinnias (same zinnias where I took the monarch butterfly pictures in Tuesday's post.)

There is something else about rivers. They flood.  We've had a lot of rain this summer, and we can only hope we don't get much more. So far we have had a couple of flooding events, all flash flooding, but if the Susquehanna and Chenango flood, we are in trouble.

Speaking of weather - come back tomorrow, for some amazing sky pictures.

Finally, thank you to those who read my post yesterday, and for commenting.  Thank you for continuing to think of my mother in law.  This morning, she continues in the hospital.  Doctors did a procedure yesterday to help drain her left lung and got a lot of the fluid out.  She didn't have enough stamina to be able to complete the procedure.  This is not a procedure that can be repeated too many times, and it would be less and less successful each time as scar tissue would start to build, however.

So that particular journey continues.

I Ask, Why?

Yom Kipur began at sundown last night.  As someone who is Jewish by ethnic heritage but not that religious, I still hold this holiday in awe.  I no longer fast, and I do not attend religious services, but I stay off the Internet and social media and keep a low profile.   So, this post is being written before sundown on Tuesday.

Let me explain about the last 24 hours.

My mother in law is 90.  She's a three time cancer survivor and has been a widow for almost 20 years.  She raised four good children. I'm married to the oldest.  One is developmentally disabled, and she did the best she could in a time when such children, many times were institutionalized.

It has not been a good age 90 for her, as a mix of dementia and medical issues have created the need for her to have 24 hour care. The family finally had to make the decision to put her into a skilled nursing facility.  This decision was gut-wrenching.  Since April, she has been hospitalized...oh, let's see, five times for pneumonia. I'm actually starting to lose track.

So, at 10:45 last (Monday) night, the phone rang. It was the facility she lives in. Upshot was, my mother in law was on the way to her next pneumonia hospitalization.  It was not unexpected.

Making a long story short, we weren't able to see her in the emergency room (ER) until almost midnight.  The drive, thankfully, was short, but it was through the remnants of what was once Hurricane Florence.  The rain was coming down in torrents.  Water was collecting on the sidewalk as we sloshed to the ER entrance.  This hospital turned out to be full - nay, past full, with ER patients everywhere.  But my mother in law had gotten a room.

My mother in law was scared.  She was asking for her autistic son. (In case you wonder, he now lives in what is called a supportive apartment.  But part of the autistic package is anxiety, and he knows his Mom is heading towards the finish line. And she forgets he no longer lives with her.).  She kept trying to talk. With a mask over her head (to help her breathe), it really wasn't possible.   She begged for water, something she could not have under the circumstances.

Every time I see my mother in law, I see a once vital woman.  When she is feeling good she laughs, remembers the past (the present is usually a bit beyond her), tells the same stories six times.  She has a hearty appetite - eats more than a lot of the residents. When she is not feeling good...well, those moments are more and more frequent.  We see her suffer, again and again, especially during these hospitalizations.

I can truly tell you that, as much as my sister in law and I have had our "moments" with her, there are many who love her.  And if you don't love her (and I do), you have to admire her.

They finally found a room for her and she is hospitalized.   I pray she gets better, but then it's back to the facility.  Rinse and repeat.  In six weeks, will she be back in the hospital?

Was this what old age was supposed to be?  Is all this part of our Creator's plan, to have her suffer so much?  Was it? (I'm not asking for an answer.  I suspect I won't get one in this life.)

I never was a deep thinker but I ponder this more and more, especially now, on Yom Kipur eve.

But wait, there's more.

When we started the drive home, bleery from lack of sleep, there was even more water.  We were fortunate - we are safe and didn't have to travel through any flooded roads.  But flash flooding has hit various places in our area - no, nothing like North Carolina, but extensive.  Right now, my son's town is under a state of emergency.  At least one local business, flooded at the beginning of their busy season, has to make the decision on whether to come back or not.  It's their second flood. They make the best holiday cookies ever.  It's a family business.

I can be grateful I wasn't flooded - this time.

A lot of things to ponder tonight and tomorrow.

And I, like many before me, ask....why?

Monarch at the Blues

On Sunday, I attended an annual free outdoor concert held on the edge of downtown Binghamton, New York called Blues on the Bridge.  We usually attend for two or three hours.  Local bands play approximate 30 minute sets, from 12pm, ending around 9pm. 

During a break I decided to stretch, and walked over to a large bed of zinnias in what we call Confluence Park, where the Chenango and Susquehanna rivers come together.

Another photographer had the same idea.  Posed with her phone, I followed where her camera was pointed.

A monarch butterfly was sitting on a zinnia.

It flitted around the flower.

I didn't want to scare it away.

It went to another flower.  And then it flitted away.

So, I guess butterflies like blues/rock concerts, too.

Don't Leave Me Driftwood #MusicMovesMe

It's Monday and I welcome you to #MusicMovesMe.

Who are the #MusicMovesMe bloggers? Every other week we have a theme, and on alternate weeks, we can blog about any music we wish.  We are headed by our head Engineer XmasDolly, who is still recovering from surgery.  Her co-conductors are:  ♥Callie of JAmerican Spice♥, (who is also recovering from surgery) and ♥Stacy of Stacy Uncorked♥   Also, co-conducting  is  ♥Cathy from Curious as a Cathy♥ (currently filling in as the temporary head Engineer )   And, (last but not least), there's me.
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If you do have music to share, you are welcome to link up with us. We'd love to hear from you!  

But, the times being what they are, I must also add a disclaimer: We really want to boogie with you, but we do work hard to bring you music - please keep in mind that this is a blog hop and open to music posts ONLY!

Today, our guest Conductor Cathy from Curious as a Cathy has declared a Free Day- we can blog about whatever we want. 

Today I was inspired by, of all things, driftwood.

We recently visited Presque Isle, a Pennsylvania state park along the shores of Lake Erie near Erie, Pennsylvania,.  It's a popular vacation spot, but after Labor Day, the vacationer population decreases dramatically.  In some places, you have the park almost to yourself.

As I listened to Lake Erie (which is so massive you think you are hearing the ocean) and walked on one of the nearly deserted beaches, I saw driftwood and took this picture.

All I could think about was this song:  Driftwood, by the Moody Blues, from 1978.

And, after I came home, this song: Sailing, by Christopher Cross. 

Finally, although not quite about the ocean, here Mike and the Mechanics perform their beautiful "The Living Years".  This is the third anniversary of the entry of a dear friend into Heaven.  May she forever RIP.

By the way, I thought I spied David Ogden Stiers in one of the choruses used in this video - I really wonder if it was him.  I'm sure one of my fellow music bloggers will know!

Hope to see you again next week! 

Just What is Local?

When is local not local?  I know when, and this sign I saw in a local supermarket produce department today said it all for me:

Definitely not in Canada.  The Canadian border is some three hours from here, true.  But...for me, not local.  Sound the buzzer....

So, exactly where does "local" begin?

(Incidentally, I am not getting reimbursed in any way for blogging about these products - just to get THAT out of the way.)

In a local supermarket (chain headquartered in upstate New York) back in 2013, someone was sampling Pastabilities Spicy Hot Tomato Oil.  From a co worker who lives near Syracuse, I know that this has been around for many years, and is produced by a Syracuse restaurant.    So today, I got to try it and... it's yummy.  And spicy, but not in a bad way.

But...it isn't made in Syracuse.  Not any more. It's made in Massachusetts, which is even further away than Syracuse. Sigh.

My co-worker told me to try a different product, something called Cheeky Monkey. (This product is a tomato/garlic dipping oil-apparently, a competitor of the oil I sampled today.) Now THAT, she assured me, is locally made.  It is also sold in the year round CNY Regional Market in Syracuse, which she assures me is well worth the drive.  Of course that, was then, and this is now (2018)...

While I was mulling over the dueling tomato oil dips, I ran across a NY made pasta.  Flour City Pasta looks to be a high quality product, and is made using heirloom grain varieties.  New York is a large state.   The problem?  It is made near Rochester, a good two and a half hour drive away from us.  I must admit I passed on it - it was not cheap. [Since 2013, I've been to Rochester and have bought it there].

So....at what point does local not become local?  I wish I had a good answer for that.

Do you have any thoughts on what defines "truly local" food?

Garden Bloggers Bloom Day Sept 2018 - First and Last A to Z

It's a day of first and lasts today in my zone 5b upstate New York garden.  I think the garden did this just for Garden Bloggers Bloom Day.

My last day lily (except for a plant I suspect may be a Stella D'Oro, but its origins are buried in the past).  I never knew this day lily was a rebloomer but this giant yellow lily, with a lovely fragrance, saved the last bloom for today in my front garden.

And, in the back, my first Japanese anemone started to open.

I had everything from A (for asters, in my back yard), given to me as a free gift by a plant nursery several years ago.

...to Z, for zinnias (at our community garden plot).

And everything in between - so much that I had to make not one, but two, collages.  The first one has everything from cleome, to my petunias, to tall phlox and geraniums.

Collage 2 includes impatiens, garlic chives, a sedum and more geraniums.

I could bore you with zinnias (more from my community garden). I love them as they open.

I love them when they are more open.

I love them when they are fully open.

One of my white marigolds, with various other plants.

Turtleheads

But, there is sadness in this garden, too, because in another month (or possibly less) most of these will probably be gone, with the frost.

And, I also think of those being impacted today by the storm that is now Tropical Storm Florence.  We may get it Tuesday, but most of its fury will be gone.

And a blogging acquaintance of mine, who lives in Alberta, Canada, received her first snow on Thursday.  Say it ain't so, Joe.

Seize the day.

Join the host of Garden Bloggers Bloom Day, Carol over at May Dreams Gardens, and other bloggers who post the flowers in their lives every 15th day of the month.

Thank you, Carol!

Late August Sunset #SkywatchFriday

Portions of our country are being lashed by a hurricane.  Meanwhile, here, in upstate New York, it s calm.

Today, I bring you a late August sunset in a residential neighborhood of upstate New York.

Framed by trees, and a streetlight.

A slightly different angle.

I wish I could get rid of the overhead lines, but I don't have much in the way of editing software.

I didn't have bug spray on, and had to go inside just as it was getting good.

Join Yogi and other bloggers who watch the sky each Friday at #SkywatchFriday.

Willows of Geneva #ThursdayTreeLove

At the top of Seneca Lake, one of the Finger Lakes of upstate New York, lies the small city of Geneva.

On the lakefront, willows were planted years back to honor those lost during World War I. (The plaque, by the way, talks about how you can travel from Seneca Lake by boat to anywhere in the United States.)

The line of willows.

Several years ago, a number of these willows were uprooted or damaged by a storm, but, back in July, I was able to view some of those that remain.

Pause, and reflect, and then enjoy this beautiful lake, is what these old trees tell us.


Join Parul and other bloggers who love trees every 2nd and 4th Thursday of the month at #ThursdayTreeLove.

Cortlandt Street Station

I grew up in New York City.  In 1973, the last full year I lived in New York City, I used the subway to commute to my summer job on West Broadway in lower Manhattan.  My stop was called Park Place.

On payday, I would do my banking in the World Trade Center, which, at that time, hadn't yet fully opened to the public.

In 1974, my husband and I went to lower Manhattan to get our marriage license, and, afterwards, I took him into the lobby of one of the Twin Towers.

It would be the last time either of us ever set foot in that building, or that neighborhood, until 2002.

In mid-August of 2002, 11 months after what we call "9/11" in our United States, I finally felt ready enough to make the trip to New York City. I brought my then preteen son and my husband to "Ground Zero", accompanied (reluctantly, for very good reasons) by a dear cousin's husband.  He had lost his best friend when the South Tower collapsed.

On the subway ride from his home in Brooklyn, our train was detoured, and I knew why.  We were being detoured around a destroyed subway stop, Cortlandt Street, not far from my old Park Place stop.  The Cortlandt Street station, which was below the World Trade Center, was built in 1918, the year my mother was born, and destroyed on 9/11/01, the day my late father in law would have turned 75.

We were told the station would never be rebuilt.  But, later, the city changed its mind.

On September 8, 2018, the rebuilt station reopened.

It is now called "WTC Cortlandt".

Brooklyn Bridge, September 2015, with new construction to the left

New York City is always under reconstruction, but this was a massive recovery even for the city of my birth.  One day, I hope to visit and pay my respects to what has risen in the place of the Twin Towers.

I will never forget.

Yes One Day We Will Forget

A couple of weeks ago, I had a conversation with a co-worker which, for some reason, evolved into a discussion about September 11, 2001.

One day we will forget. 

One day it will be only the day on the calendar between September 10 and September 12.

One day, we won't remember the moments of the day.  The minute each plane hit its target.  The moment each World Trade Center collapsed.   The moment the Pentagon erupted in flames. 

The moment Flight 93 plowed into a Pennsylvania field.

One day New York won't reschedule a primary election because it falls on September 11. (Even now, in 2018, our primary, instead of today, will be held on Thursday).

No, don't be angry at me.  I will remember September 11 for the rest of my life. I remember it every year.  First, it was my father in law's birthday (although he was no longer with us on that day.)  Then, it became the day I watched in horror (after my employer hastily located a television) as the second tower fell, later finding out that one of my co workers lost his son on that day. His daughter in law was pregnant.  Other people I know lost loved ones.  13 people who went to my high school died that day.  Two of them left pregnant spouses.

Those children and others will be turning 17 in the next few months, and this is the point I want to make.  It is a point we may not like, but it is a point that history teaches us.

Our children will forget.  Or maybe our grandchildren.  It is happening right before our eyes.

Today, I think of those who are still dying as a result of 9/11.  Yes, thousands of first responders and others are still suffering aftereffects today. They are still dying from cancer and other 9/11 related illnesses, even as they fight for extensions of deadlines set by Congress:  December 18, 2020.

How do you put a deadline on cancer?  And the ironic part?  We speculate that the one plane that did not reach its target, Flight 93 memorialized above, was headed towards the Capital building when its heroic passengers fought the hijackers for control of the plane.  May they rest in peace, in a field in Western Pennsylvania, forever.

But one day, all those who experienced 9/11 will be gone, unable to give further testimony.

My son was middle school aged on September 11, 2001, and he remembers.  But those children who were two or three on that day, will they remember?  Will the 11 year olds, unless they lost a family member and 9/11 remembrance is something their families do every day?  Do you think the schools are teaching 9/11?  Some are.  Some aren't.  How about those homeschooling?  But even by learning at home or in a school building, 9/11 will never have the same meaning to them as it does to us. They live in a post 9/11 world.  The day itself will eventually be empty of the meaning we, who were alive then, give it.

And maybe that isn't totally a bad thing.

As long as we give the day meaning, true meaning, and incorporate that meaning into our daily lives, our children will remember the meaning.  But they will turn that memory into something that matters to them, the generation that wasn't yet born.  They only know a post 9/11 world. We can never truly know what that means, to know a world from before that date we observe today.

Our world isn't theirs.

They will remember, but not the way we do.  Our job is to make sure they know about the day and its meaning, and let them sort it out. Keep in mind that the children born on September 11, 2001, will turn 18 on September 11, 2019, and will be granted the right to vote.

I hope they will use that power of the vote well.

But for now, my generation, and yours, will remember those innocents who died on that day. 

(Part of this post was originally posted on September 11, 2012).

Songs About Growing Old #MusicMovesMe Sept 10

It's Monday and I welcome you to #MusicMovesMe.

Who are the #MusicMovesMe bloggers? Every other week we have a theme, and on alternate weeks, we can blog about any music we wish.  We are headed by our head Engineer XmasDolly, who is still recovering from surgery.  Her co-conductors are:  ♥Callie of JAmerican Spice♥, (who is posting as she can) and ♥Stacy of Stacy Uncorked♥   Also, co-conducting  is  ♥Cathy from Curious as a Cathy♥ (currently filling in as the temporary head Engineer )   And, (last but not least), there's me.

If you do have music to share, you are welcome to link up with us. We'd love to hear from you!  
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But, the times being what they are, I must also add a disclaimer: We really want to boogie with you, but we do work hard to bring you music - please keep in mind that this is a blog hop and open to music posts ONLY!

For the month of September, our honorary conductor is Cathy from Curious as a Cathy and her theme for today is "Songs About Being a Grandparent/Growing Old".

It Was a Very Good Year was originally written in 1961 for Bob Shane with the Kingston Trio but Frank Sinatra made it his own in 1966.  Even when it came out (I was a young teenager) I knew there was something special about this song, which talked about girls the singer loved when he was 17, 21, and then up through his "vintage" years.

So I couldn't resist also including the Kingston Trio recording.

Veronica, co written by Elvis Costello and Paul McCartney, and sung by Elvis Costello, sounds like a happy song but just give a close listen to the lyrics.  This is poignant for me, as my mother inlaw travels down the same road as Veronica did.  I am not the biggest fan of Elvis Costello (I don't really know why, because he is so talented) but he nailed this song.

Here, Johnny Cash covers "We'll Meet Again", a song from 1939 sung by the great Vera Lynn.

Oh, why not.  This isn't a "Battle of the Bands" but here's Vera Lynn's original.  Truthfully, I like it better, but Johnny Cash did put a different spin on the lyrics.

And one more - just couldn't resist this.  An "impromptu" elderly singing group, originally formed to give voice to the plight of senior citizens, belts out "My Generation". The lead singer of this group,  who was then 90, passed away at age 93 in 2010.  This performance was recorded at the Abbey Road studio, and some of the clip presents senior from the group walking on the iconic road crossing from the Beatles album "Abbey Road".

BONUS: Since I'm doing everything in doubles today, why not also feature their 2012 audition on Britain's Got Talent?  Watching Simon Cowell roll his eyes before he is blown away is well worth listening to their rendition of....no, I'm not going to give it away.

DOUBLE BONUS - speaking of aging, how about a concert by Paul McCartney at Grand Central Station in New York City on Friday?   I'm not sure how long this is as it was originally livestreamed on You Tube.


Join me again next Monday - same time, same place.

Civil War Sunday - A Change of Heart

As we seem to be driven further apart daily, here in the United States, I am reminded of the 150th anniversary of our Civil War, 2011-2015, when I would blog each Sunday about something related to the Civil War.

I've maintained, more than once in my blog, that we never stopped fighting this war.

I can remember when, in Summerville, South Carolina (a city of about 49,000 about 25 miles from Charleston) a white woman living in a mainly black neighborhood decided to display the Confederate flag. This was back in 2010.

In the view of Annie Caddell, the flag represented respect and remembrance for her ancestors.  Her black neighbors, seeing the flag as a symbol of hate and oppression, first signed a petition, and then protested.  This rapidly escalated into a "cold" war - neighbors building eight foot high walls inches from their property lines to block their view of the flag, then Ms. Caddell hoisting the flag even higher.  Ms. Caddell said she would die before the flag came down.

Eventually there was a truce - the walls, and the flag, remained, although, in 2015, someone shot at her house after a tragic mass shooting near downtown Charleston by a white man inside a black church during a Bible Study class.

But then the woman had a heart attack.  The result?

The flag came down earlier this year, replaced by the state flag of South Carolina.  

And, recently, the walls were taken down by the neighbors.  One hugged Ms. Caddell on camera.

Annie Caddell still refuses to fly the American flag.  She feels our country is in deep trouble.

I think few of us would disagree.

Sustainable Saturday - New Year's Apple Cake

Tomorrow, the Jewish New Year begins at sunset.  That means it is time to make my version of an amazing apple honey cake.  The original recipe can be found here, and I assure you you don't have to be Jewish to love this cake. 

There are several reasons why I modified the cake the way I did.  First, believe it or not, I do not like confectioner's sugar/liquid type icing.  Even as a child, I would pass up cinnamon rolls and yeast cakes because I never liked the icing drizzled on them.  I can't explain why.  I still don't.  So my version does not have icing.  If you want icing, click the link above.

Second, I've started to use coconut oil more and more as a substitute for oil in my baking   I've never made this cake with anything but coconut oil, and I love it.

Third, instead of the original Granny Smith apples, I prefer tart, local apples.  I'm fortunate to live in New York apple country and there is an abundance of cooking apples grown here.  For Thanksgiving, I make this with  local Northern Spy apples.  Tomorrow I will make it with Gravenstein apples I purchased earlier in the week near North East, Pennsylvania (a town, not a direction).  These are apples dating back to 1797 or even earlier, and have a fascinating history.

Sorry, metric readers, you are on your own with this.

AM's Version of Tori Avey's Apple Honey Cake

3 large eggs (this past week, I was fortunate enough to use free range brown eggs from a local farm)
3/4 cup honey (local buckwheat honey, which is quite dark, and is a good fall honey)
1/2 cup white sugar
1/4 cup light brown sugar
1 1/4 cup unrefined coconut oil melted gently in microwave (this is solid at room temperature)
1 1/2 tsp vanilla
3 cups King Arthur's White Whole Wheat flour
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp cinnamon, freshly ground
3/4 tsp pumpkin pie spice
4 tart baking apples, peeled, cored and shredded (you will also want to use the resulting liquid)

You will bake this in a 9 inch Bundt cake pan.

Method

Preheat oven to 325 degrees F.

While oven heats, mix the wet ingredients:
In a large mixing bowl, beat the eggs until frothy.
Whisk in honey, white and brown sugar, melted coconut oil, and vanilla

Then mix the dry ingredients:
In a smaller bowl, sift together flour, baking power, baking soda, spices.

Gradually add dry ingredients to wet ingredients, stir to blend.  You don't want any dry ingredients, but you also don't want to over beat.

Fold in your shredded apples and liquid from the apples.

Spray your bundt pan with cooking spray, coating the inside evenly.

Now, pour your batter into the pan.  You don't want to overfill (Tory warns you not to fill more than 3/4 full.)  Smooth the batter on the top so that it is flat and even.  You do not want any air pockets.  I press down on the filling gently with a spoonula.

From last year's baking

Bake for approximately 75-90 minutes.  When the edges darken and pull fully away from the sides of the pan, and the cake is browned, test with a toothpick.  This is a moist cake, so you don't want to under cook.  But, you don't want to overcook it, either.

For me, this cake is a wonderful alternative to apple pie.  And, with the apples and honey, it's perfect for a cool almost-fall day.

Pennsylvania Big Sky Country #SkywatchFriday

Last night, I was in Pennsylvania, not that far from the southern shore of Lake Erie, in the concord grape country of North East, Pennsylvania.

A cold front had finally relieved the heat and humidity, and clouds were puffing up from the lake.  It reminded me a little of Big Sky country in Montana, which I have only seen once.

The combination of clouds was beautiful.

As the sun approached sunset, it got a big more dramatic.

Finally, after sunset, the sky reddened and the puffy clouds almost disappeared.  The lowest band of blue, right below the pink-red streak, is Lake Erie. This was taken from the third floor of our motel.

Once again, I join Yogi and other bloggers who watch the sky each Friday on #SkywatchFriday.

Dining with Abraham Lincoln - Throwback Thursday

Today -a sequel to my hunt for the perfect tuna fish sandwich.

Where I ate it was its own story, first told in 2013 (with some edits):

It isn't every day you get to eat lunch with a sitting President of the United States.  Or, to be more exact, the sitting statue of a former President.

Abraham Lincoln was the 16th President of the United States, and our country's President during the United States Civil War.


In the summer of 2013 my spouse and I drove from our home in upstate New York to Arkansas for a visit.  On the way back home, we stopped for a rest break in Vandalia, Illinois.

Back in the 1830's, Vandalia was the capital of the state of Illinois - the second capital of Illinois,  from 1819 to 1839.  It no longer is the capital and you may be surprised to learn who is partially responsible for that.

This was the Vandalia state capital building, built in 1836.

In the city of Vandalia, a young Illinois state legislator got some of his early political experience.  His name was Abraham Lincoln. Lincoln and some of his colleagues wanted the capital closer to the geographic center of the state.  Ironically, this particular statehouse was built to try to convince Lincoln and some of his colleagues to keep the capital in Vandalia.   It replaced a different building that was torn down while the legislature was in recess.  The hope was, the building would so impress the legislature that they would stay in Vandalia.

Looks nice, but Lincoln never tried any cases in this room.

The bribe (if you could call it that) didn't work, and Lincoln was not a beloved figure in Vandalia due to his actions in moving the capital away from their city.  But, time has a way of dimming memories.  Now, Lincoln is quite beloved in Vandalia.

In 2001, Lincoln Park was built near the statehouse. It features a statute called "Sitting with Lincoln".

On this bench, I ate lunch with Abraham Lincoln in 2013- the  tuna sandwich we had purchased in Missouri that morning, to be exact.  It was a hot sunny day, a day I would later treasure that winter, a harsh one, when below zero wind chills were the order of the day.

I hope Lincoln enjoyed that wonderful Missouri tuna sandwich as much as I did.

Have you ever met a famous person, or a person who became famous later in life?

Water Lilies #WordlessWednesday

Where my elderly mother in law lives, there is a small water lily garden.

The plants are in bloom.  Her son shows her the blossoms, but the next day, she doesn't remember where she saw them.

Here they are, for all to enjoy.

Join Esha and other bloggers celebrating #WordlessWednesday.

In Search of the Perfect Tuna Fish Sandwich - #FlavoursomeTuesday

On September 3, 2013 I ate the perfect tuna fish sandwich.  Today, I repeat a blog post from September 3, 2013 about it, with some small editing updates.

St. Louis.  1968.

My uncle Henry (who will be celebrating - updated  his 94th birthday later this year!) drove me and my father to St. Louis for the day, from his then-home in Iowa.

I don't know at what point we ate, but my choice was a tuna fish sandwich.  Back when I was a child and a teen, I loved tuna and I'm surprised that I never turned into a fish.

The tuna sandwich I had was not like any restaurant-made tuna sandwich I had ever had.  No, this was sweet.  It had a taste that was absolutely wonderful.

Several years later I was back in the area and ordered a tuna sandwich at a diner and it had the same taste.  What was it? I couldn't quite place it.  My spouse, an excellent cook, went by my description and guessed it had sweet pickle relish in it.  I suspected it might also have Miracle Whip as an ingredient.

Miracle Whip is - well, it is something like American mayonnaise, but unless you live in the U.S. (or, apparently, Germany) you won't find Miracle Whip.  I've found it to be a regional taste here in the United States.  My midwestern relatives use Miracle Whip in things such as potato salad that call for "white stuff in a jar".  My New York relatives use American Mayonnaise in dishes needing "white stuff".

It's been years, over 30 years, since I was in the St. Louis area, but my spouse and I ended up staying the night of September 2, 2013, about 50 miles (80 km) west of St. Louis, Missouri.  This morning, I decided to drop in on a local cafe called the Lewis Cafe. Their menu was in our motel room and it advertised that the owners raised their own beef.  And, it had been in business since the 1930's. [2018 update, it is still in business].

And, they made their own tuna fish salad.

They were closed yesterday (due to Labor Day) so dinner there was impossible.

But, they opened today at 5am. Our motel's desk clerk called them about 8:30 am (after sharing her recipe for tuna) to make sure they made sandwiches to go that early - they did.

So, what did we find?

Just the friendliest service you would ever want.  We were offered seats, and plenty of ice water while we waited.  The young lady who waited on us even suggested we use the restrooms.

Here are a couple of pictures of the interior of the Lewis Cafe.

The young lady put together our "to go's" including a slice of pie, plenty of  napkins, forks, my husband's fried cube steak (fantastic, according to him) and this:

Heaven.  I've waited over 30 years for this sandwich. And it just wasn't the tuna.  This wasn't store bought rye bread, I'm convinced.

So how does the desk clerk at Budget Lodgings in St. Clair, Missouri make her tuna?  Sweet relish (one point for spouse).  Miracle whip (one point for me). Chopped sweet onion.  Chopped hard boiled egg.

Joining up with #FlavoursomeTuesdays (hosted by Bellybytes and Metanoia) 

Music for a Labor Day #MusicMovesMe

It's Monday and I welcome you to #MusicMovesMe.

Who are the #MusicMovesMe bloggers? Every other week we have a theme, and on alternate weeks, we can blog about any music we wish.  We are headed by our head Engineer XmasDolly, who is still recovering from surgery.  Her co-conductors are:  ♥Callie of JAmerican Spice♥, (who is also recovering from surgery) and ♥Stacy of Stacy Uncorked♥   Also, co-conducting  is  ♥Cathy from Curious as a Cathy♥ (currently filling in as the temporary head Engineer )   And, (last but not least), there's me.

If you do have music to share, you are welcome to link up with us. We'd love to hear from you!  

But, the times being what they are, I must also add a disclaimer: We really want to boogie with you, but we do work hard to bring you music - please keep in mind that this is a blog hop and open to music posts ONLY!

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 Today is Labor Day in the United States.  So I offer, today, a mixed assortment of music.

The Downeaster Alexa, one of my favorite Billy Joel songs, dates from 1989 and has the plight of the Long Island fisherman as its theme.  

Another Billy Joel song, from 1983, Allentown, sings about the plight of the American steelworker.  For this I chose a live version from his 2008 concert at Yankee Stadium, in my native Bronx.

One of the songs I heard at Binghamton, New York's Porchfest Sunday before last:  Kryptonite, by 3 Doors Down, covered by a local band.

And finally, Renee Fleming performing "Danny Boy" Saturday at Senator John McCain's funeral.  I think the most poignant part of this past week was McCain's 106 year old mother paying her respects before the casket was moved to Washington, DC as her son lay in state in Arizona.  

To further set the stage for September, I found this discussion of why there seem to be so many songs about September interesting. 

Thank you for stopping by and listening to my mini-concert.  Next week, I'll be posting music for a theme "Songs about aging or being a grandparent" and we'll see what I can come up with.