Postcard from Iceland

I got a wonderful Valentine's Day gift  in the mail last week- a postcard from "new friends in Iceland".

I don't have an official bucket list, but if I did, visiting Iceland would be on the list.  I have discovered, too, that my spouse and my adult son and even a good friend (my "guest photographer") would love to go one year, too.

It wouldn't have been easy for me prior to COVID-19.  I have had a fear of flying for many years and haven't been on an airplane in nearly 30 years.  But, that's the only way I can get to many places.  A travel agent, right before COVID-19, told me that more people than I might think take anti anxiety medication prior to flights, and that might be an option to consider.

In February, I read an online article in Forbes magazine written by Lois Alter Mark about a luxury hotel in Iceland that was offering to send postcards out to 700 people.  That was my Valentine's Day gift to myself.  My guest photographer also signed up.

Here's the site for the Hotel Rangá announcement. Their employees wanted to brighten the day of people all over the world.  They sure brightened mine.  (They did get requests for all the postcards, in case you were wondering.)

The front said "14 Feb 2021 With love, waiting for the day we can travel once again. (my name and a heart) Hope to see you soon with love from Iceland."  The stamp also was fascinating, with a "utan Evrópu" designation, meaning it was meant for postage outside Europe.  It got even more interesting when I read that Iceland stopped issuing stamps in October of last year.  It's a fascinating thing that should be of interest to anyone watching the woes of our post office system in the United States, but I digress.

The back of the postcard is a picture of the property during a visit of the Northern Lights. (And yes, I thanked them on their Facebook page.)

Before I get too excited, I have to realize that right now, Americans are banned from Iceland.  But there is always "one day".

I looked at their website and quickly realized this hotel is a bit outside my budget, (and their restaurant even more outside my budget) but you know what they say about dreams coming true? (Should I start buying lottery tickets now?) You do get a lot for your money, including access (during the dark part of the year) to an observatory, weather permitting, and a hot tub. 

I had such a good time exploring their website. It has a wealth (and I do mean a wealth) of information.

Here's a recipe for salmon, along with a dining playlist.

Lois Alter Mark, thank you for reopening this dream for me and inspiring me to learn about this country.  Just going through their website from my couch was a vacation.

To my postcard writer from Iceland, with love from the United States.

AM

Remember #MusicMovesMe

It's that time to join up with other music bloggers for #MusicMovesMe.

Who are the #MusicMovesMe bloggers? We are bloggers who blog about music each Monday and if you have music to share with us, you are most welcome to join! (Music Posts Only , please!)   First, there is XmasDolly,   Her co-hosts are: Stacy of Stacy Uncorked, Cathy from Curious as a Cathy, and me. Xmas Dolly continues to have issues with her blog, but I hope she is able to join us today.

Each month we have a guest host who picks themes for the month, and this month we are featuring our very own founder and head host, Xmas Dolly. 

The theme for today is "You Pick".

I've been doing so much remembering this month that I decided my theme for today would be songs about remembering.

One of the best remembering songs ever (in my most humble of opinions) comes from my childhood.  

This first song has an interesting origin story.  Originally, it was some seven minutes in length (outtakes are available on You Tube) and a certain then unknown session musician by the name of Billy Joel played the piano in this and another subsequent hit's demo versions.  (In research, I've read that Billy Joel is not sure if his playing made it to the master version of the song.)  The recording had to be cut to under three minutes, per the norms of Top 40 radio at the time, and that is the reason for the fade at the very end.

The Shangri-La's and Remember (Walking in the Sand) from 1964.

This next song was recorded by one of my mother's favorite musicians, Frank Sinatra. It was a cover of a song released in 1961 by Bob Shane with the Kingston Trio.  For Sinatra, it became a hit in 1966.  As it happens, a CBS crew was on the spot when Sinatra recorded this in 1965, and it's a peek back in time - for that reason I am featuring the You Tube video of that recording session.  

Elton John's 1973 hit (released in 1972) "Crocodile Rock".  I found this live performance from some years back at Madison Square Garden in New York City, which is posted as a fundraiser on You Tube right now.  Here are some observations from Elton John in an interview.

 "The Boys of Summer" by former Eagles drummer Don Henley uses, as its theme, a young man remembering a former love that he still has feelings for.

Speaking of summer, my final song is Bryan Adams' "Summer of 69" where we learn that nothing lasts forever.

That's a wrap.

You know how it goes - see you next Monday!

A Cartoon Concerto

For your Sunday pleasure:  with a warning:  Cartoon slapstick violence and lots of laughs!

If cartoon violence bothers you, this post is not for you!

Growing up (or even as adults), did you watch cartoons like Bugs Bunny or Tom and Jerry?

Years ago, I have a memory of someone giving my spouse a Christmas gift of a cassette tape of cartoon music. He enjoyed it a lot but it's been lost to the ages.  

Recently, my Facebook feed contained a link to an article on "how a whole generation learned classical music from listening to old cartoons." 

Yes, it's true, and here are three examples. Here's a take on music from 1816 and Rossini's Barber of Seville.

Bugs Bunny and the Rabbit of Seville.

It got me to thinking - perhaps this cartoon would be frowned on today, with the shooting and Elmer Fudd chasing Bugs Bunny with an axe.

But I laughed and enjoyed it.  On our daily walk, I asked spouse if he remembered "The Rabbit of Seville". He said it was one of his favorite Bugs Bunny cartoon.  He liked the music he heard in the cartoons and never realized, until later, that he was receiving a musical education.

Here's another - Tom and Jerry and Franz Liszt's "Hungarian Rhapsody no. 2 in C Sharp Minor".  Moral: never mess with a mouse living in a piano. 

Bonus: short clip of Bug and the William Tell Overture in a chase scene.

If you want more remembering, join me tomorrow for #MusicMovesMe and listen to songs about remembering.

Will We Go to the Dark Side this Year?

I read this on one of our local news websites today:  "Climatologically, Binghamton (New York) hits 50 degrees for the first time each year around January 27th but it has yet to do so this year."

Yes, tell us about it.

But spring is progressing, if you can call being able to see bare ground in some places for the first time since December "progress".

Last month, this was our front yard.  Looks kind of nice in the early morning light.

I know, underneath all that snow lie crocuses, hyacinths, grape hyacinths, tulips, and daffodils, just waiting for the secret signal Nature gives.

I also know that March can sneak in a few snowstorms.  One of our worst since I've lived here was March 13, 1993.

So winter isn't over just yet.

But the birds are singing (no robins yet) and I see tree buds starting to swell. 

And, best of all, it's Maple syrup season.  I wonder, though, if we are going to be able to have a maple festival this year.  They are trying.   Our Maple Weekends (when you can visit producers and see maple syruping in action) are in some doubt but they are also trying.  The official weekend is cancelled but local producers can choose, and we have retail sales available in the two local sites I know of (local meaning 30 miles from Binghamton or less.)

Our local syrup producer started to boil on February 27.  The sap is running.

Oh, those sweet memories of dark maple syrup.  Not the stuff you get in supermarkets, but oh so good.  Well, better than the supermarket type, especially if you have people who boil sap using wood.

Going to the dark side with others may have to wait until next year but we will still have local syrup.

Sweet!

Snow Puddles and Sky #SkywatchFriday

March has arrived in New York State and, as advertised, it has come in like a lion.

It's so unpleasant most days I don't want to be outside for long, so my photography has been limited.  Instead I want to treat you to some views of late February.

The sky is somewhat changeable.

A snow squall on Sunday. These blow up quickly and can reduce visibility to near zero.  You don't want to be out driving when one of these hit.

In this one you can see a small (between the two objects in the bottom middle) snow plume coming from the ground.

From February 24, two puddles reflect the sky.

Another view.

A blend of feathery clouds and a contrail.

Finally, this isn't quite big sky country but tell that to these clouds.

Spring is definitely coming.  I see sap starting to rise, as indicated by reddish upper branches.  In my yard I see the buds swelling on high up tree branches.

Spring can't come soon enough.

For more skies, check out Yogi and the watchers at #SkywatchFriday.

Pen Pals

Yesterday, I  got a postcard from Iceland.  There's a story behind it, which I plan to tell next week.

The person who sent it to me wrote a short message on the card.  It didn't strike me at first, but I realized that it was printed.

It's also the first time I've received a non business letter (handwritten) or a postcard in forever.

Does anyone write in cursive anymore?  For that matter, does anyone reading this blog post have a pen pal?  

With cursive writing, my son (who is 30-something) never learned how, and I wonder if my postcard writer is in his age group.  This postcard project (more on that next week) wasn't to start pen pal relationships, but it made me think about pen pals.

Pen pals were so popular "way back when".  I know the practice has gotten a bit of a resurgence during the pandemic. I suspect a lot of these are young people writing to nursing home residents, or something similar.  But it was different "back then".

I remember my pen pal; in fact, I woke up about 5am today thinking of her.  I am a bit superstitious about when I wake up thinking of someone I haven't thought of in many years.  In more than one case, I look online for an obituary and I find it.  But I digress.

Years ago, when I (born and raised in New York City) got the urge to "go back to the land", spouse and I bought about 34 acres of land in Arkansas.  We lasted only a few years, but during that time, I subscribed to a magazine for like minded people.  They had a section for finding a pen pal.

I wrote to three or four people, and got back a couple of answers.  With one, a woman living in the Midwest, I started up a pen pal relationship that lasted perhaps three years.  Yes, actual letters (this was the early 1980's, prior to the Internet), handwritten, snail mailed back and forth to each other.

She was planning to move to Arkansas and was interested in finding out more about it.  Whatever she found out, she and her family (she, husband, three teens) ended up moving to another part of Arkansas.

We never met.  We never really tried to.  Writing was fine, and she had a busy life, given the three teens.

Eventually, we moved from Arkansas back to New York State, and the letters petered out. 

I don't think I've written a non business letter in years.  The last person I regularly wrote letters to was an aunt who passed away in 2003.

I never thought about becoming a pen pal again during lockdown, but if you do an Internet search you will find a lot of stories about unlikely pen pals.

I hope my pen pal is OK.

Did you ever have a pen pal?

Inside Impatien Impatient #WordlessWednesday

I can never quite let go of summer.

Every fall, before our first frost, I attempt some cuttings.  This past fall, my coleus cuttings failed but I managed to root a couple of impatiens.  These wonderful shade loving blooming plants were a victim of a blight several years back that affected many gardeners (including me) and prevented us from growing this jewel, but we now have a resistant variety called Beacon.  So, impatiens are back in my flower garden.

For the second year, I grew Beacon, and for the first time, I was successful in rooting two cuttings in water.

Here they are, in bloom in a north facing window. waiting patiently for the last frost.  In our area, that won't be until some time in May.

I can't wait.

Joining up with Sandee at Comedy Plus for her #WordlessWednesday.

Natural Lessons

I don't know if it is because of the pandemic, but I've seen a lot of hawks in my neighborhood in the past year.

I first noticed one last March, and it could be that I had just never noticed them before.  But I have seen them in trees since then (in what I would call a semi-urban area) and even sitting on a fence post in a field near where I exercise walked this summer.  The field was, of all places, behind a major home improvement store.

Then, there was this.

Yesterday just before lunch, a co worker texted me and a couple of other co workers a picture.  "Look what is in my backyard!" she texted. "Do you know what that is?"  Without the pandemic, we would have been working in a downtown office.

It was (I think) a hawk.  Her picture was a lot better than the one I'm about to show you. (I'm not going to ask her for permission to show hers).

After consulting a guide (Kaufman's Field Guide to Birds of North America), I was thinking her hawk was a Cooper's Hawk.  

As for my hawk, it was in the back of our house, some distance away, so my iPhone couldn't get it well.  That's a hint that a video for beginning birders gave me - try to take a picture, or at least write down the details, before you grab a field guide.

Here is "my hawk".  Kind of blurry.  I assure you, this photo is a color photo.  My phone took a color picture but the drab white sky drained the colors from the bird.  So, no one is going to make an ID from this.  I couldn't even tell you the colors my naked (so to speak) eye saw.

I was beginning to think I'm not cut out for this birding thing.  It seems there is so much to learn.  I know experienced birders will say "don't stress, it will come to you."  But the amount of detail is overwhelming.  You have males, females and juveniles.  There are flying patterns, songs and calls, and other behavior.

There are birds that are year round, and birds that just pass through town for a day or two on the way to or from somewhere else.

How do you learn this stuff?  But, on the other hand, it isn't a competition.  Is it? 

How do you learn all the things you need to know?

I want the birds to become a type of companion.  I want to be outdoors to be with them.  I want to hear their songs.

Today, I won't be because when I woke up, it was 14 degrees F, with a howling wind.  But the hawks are still out there, doing what they need to do.

So these are the lessons Nature has taught through these two hawks:

1.  Spring is almost here, but it's March.  The warm weather will come.  But not today.

2.  My life is on a different track (along with the rest of us) so make the best of it.

3.  Patience is the best strategy.   The learning will come in its own time.

Chances Are It's the Twelfth of Never #MusicMovesMe

 

Welcome to another edition of Music Moves Me!

Who are the #MusicMovesMe bloggers? We are bloggers who blog about music each Monday and if you have music to share with us, you are most welcome to join! (Music Posts Only , please!)   First, there is XmasDolly,   Her co-hosts are: Stacy of Stacy Uncorked, Cathy from Curious as a Cathy, and me. Xmas Dolly has had some issues with her blog, but I hope she is able to join us today.

Each month we have a guest co-hosts who picks themes for the month, and this month we are featuring our very own founder and head host, Xmas Dolly.  Applause!

The theme for today is "Build a Johnny Mathis playlist".  I am going to do that, but I have a secondary theme today, for a reason I will make clear a little later.

Johnny Mathis was (and is, as he is still with us at age 85) a favorite singer of many in the 1950's. I remember some of his song from my childhood.  Mathis was still touring at the time the pandemic hit last February.  Incidentally, he prefers being called "John" to being called "Johnny".

So let's take a short trip back to the 1950's.

What a smooth voice.  Johnny Mathis never (to the best of my knowledge) wrote any of his hit songs, but he sure knew how to pick them.

One of Johnny Mathis' biggest hits is my personal favorite of his. "Chances Are", from 1957, and his first #1 hit.

"Wonderful, Wonderful", also from 1957,  "only" went to #14 on the Billboard 100.

"The Twelfth of Never" from 1956 and that harp at the beginning....This was the B side of "Chances Are".  This song has been covered by several artists since Johnny Mathis, including Elvis, Tammy Wynette, and Olivia Newton-John.

Now, I want to skip ahead a couple of  decades and play something from a 1973 performance on the TV show "Soul Train".  Here is Mathis covering the Stylistic's 1972 hit "I'm Stone In Love with You".

I want to change direction for my final two songs.

On March 1, 2020, New York State, where I was born and have spent much of my life, recorded its first case of COVID-19.  We had no idea what would be happening here, and in much of the world, just mere weeks later.  I want to take a moment to remember when life was...well, the way it was.

In 2017, Johnny Mathis recorded an album of songs from the Great American Book.  Here is one of them:  "Remember When".  It's not quite on topic, but it expresses my mood today.

Here's the final song in today's Johnny Mathis playlist, from the Broadway musical "Cats", Johnny Mathis covers "Memory".

To the 46,970 plus New Yorkers who have died from COVID-19 since March 1, 2020, including over 29,000 in the city of my birth, you are not forgotten.

And that's a wrap.

Virtual Clutter

Today is the last day of February.  I'm scrolling through memories.

iPhones have a feature where you can look at photos from a certain date.  There is also a "one year ago feature".  Last night, I picked it.

There was nothing for the 28th.  The photos for February 27 were photos of snow in downtown Binghamton, where I worked.

A year ago, we had no idea whatsoever of what was coming to our country.  I don't want to dwell on it, but I can't help it.

The photos on my phone are a historical record of sorts.  When I scroll through the photos of March, 2020, they start so innocently. Flowers.  A special type of onion I'll be blogging about again called the strawberry onion. The first spring flowers, seen on March 5 (that won't happen this year, I'm sure).  More flowers.  An everyday scene for me, the garden area of the Broome County Public Library.

And then...well, we all know what.

I also decided to clear out some old emails today.

I have too many mailing lists.  I deleted about 200 emails worth of newsletters that will never be read.

It's a type of electronic history, and I do enjoy history.

But.

Too much clutter.  Not enough time.

I have a feeling I'm not alone in this. 

So, will I stop taking photos?  No.  Will I unsubscribe to those newsletters?

Maybe.  Or maybe I should just carve out a chunk of time and read some of my emails.  Because email is a type of history, too.

I wonder how much of our history will remain if the Internet fails, or if we all just delete our photos and emails.

In a way, it's a scary thought.

But virtual clutter does weigh us down in a way that physical clutter doesn't.  Maybe it doesn't take up space in our physical lives, but it does weigh down our mind. 

Do you have this problem?

Day Late Hamantaschen

In my late teens, I did a lot of baking, all self taught. I would bake for myself and would give gifts to my then boyfriend, now (for many years) my spouse.   As the mother of a young son, I would do some baking with him, too.

I never got to be really good, but I enjoyed scratch baking. 

As I got older, that changed.  It's been years since I've done anything but cake mixes, and I didn't even get into the pandemic baking of 2020.  But recently, the urge to do some scratch baking (with my spouse's help, because he loves cooking so much that he can't stand to see me bake without helping) has hit.

The Jewish holiday of Purim started Thursday at sundown and ended yesterday at sundown.  This holiday is a celebration of a long ago event told in the Old Testament Book of Esther, and how Esther, a Jewish woman married to a Persian king foiled a plot by the evil prime minister Haman to kill all Jews.  A popular cookie for this holiday, hamantaschen, is shaped like a tri cornered hat and has a thick filling.  Traditional filling were poppyseed (what I grew up with) or apricot, but many non traditional fillings are used. 

At the last minute I decided - why not make hamantaschen?  I hadn't made them in oh, over 40 years, after all.  Why not?

The traditional dough can be difficult to work with so I decided on something simple.

I used an "easy Hamantaschen Dough" from Melinda Strauss.  We had European strawberry jam in the fridge so decided to use that as the filling.  I made the dough and spouse did the rolling and cutting.  I did the filling and baking.  It's nice to work together with him in the kitchen.

They look dark because we only have white whole wheat flour in the house.  I was hoping the cookies wouldn't be too tough.  This is an oil based dough, incidentally.  I used canola oil.  Here is the filling - about a teaspoon per cookie.

Melinda's recipe was for 24 cookies.  I cut it in half.  It's just the two of us.  In these times, I didn't have anyone around for a cookie swap.

Probably the ugliest hamantaschen you'll ever see.

These were ready to bake - on parchment paper, on a cookie sheet, at 350 degrees.  I think we made the dough a bit too thick - we baked these nearly 25 minutes, not the 18-22 suggested minutes.

I definitely will never be a food blogger.

But they did taste good.

I have to watch my weight carefully, as a lifetime WW (Weight Watchers) member.  We figured these to be approximately four smartpoints each, but that's an estimate based on points for the ingredients added together and divided by 12.

So, I am publishing this a day late - but no matter, if you make them today or next week, they will still be delicious.

Have you baked recently?

Blues and Ripples #SkywatchFriday

It's the last Friday of February 2021 and winter is slowly starting to release its grip.  You might not notice at first.  But Wednesday it got up to 51 degrees F (10.5 C).  Yesterday, it got up to 43F (6.1 C.)

It was time for a walk on the local Rail Trail.

The sky was in a ripply mood.  Best of all, it showed off flashes of blue.

Robin's egg blue?  A wall of this color might be nice but without the power lines.  This was on the way to the Rail Trail.

This one was unusual.  At the center bottom, you see the trail and snow.  Then a white cloud, a kind of oval blue and then a grey ripple.

Here, near the end of the trail, the clouds were like sheets.

This was the sky as we walked back to our car.  I am not sure what to sure what to call this.  I kept the corner of the building in the shot to prove this was really the sky.

I hope the sky's secret message hidden in these clouds is "spring is nearly here".

Joining Yogi and other sky watchers for #SkywatchFriday.

The Witnesses #ThursdayTreeLove

I know not everyone lives where snow is common, so I always like to feature snow in my winter #ThursdayTreeLove posts.  Snow, after all, is what happens where we live in the winter.  In some ways, nature is predictable. 

Where I live in the Northeast United States, we are far from spring.  At this time of year, weary of snow, we ache for it so.  Our world outside is snow.

Now that it's February, the blue skies are starting to pop up here and there, and the sun angle brought out shadows in the snow.  This was after a snowfall, and the snow is still clinging to the evergreen.  To the right is one of our trees that loses its leaves in our winter.

These trees, and others, bear witness.  To something.  Do these trees know they aren't in a forest, but in an ecosystem ruled by humans?  But then again, COVID has proved (once again) that we humans are not in charge.

I don't know what trees think of people.  Probably, they don't think of us that much.  Their thoughts are secret, perhaps never to be known by us.  But there is increasing evidence that trees do think.

Maybe we aren't important to a tree's thinking, but we humans are so dependent on trees - for oxygen, for food, for lumber, for so much.

Witness the power of nature.  Witness the importance of trees.  Witness the fact that if we destroy nature, we destroy ourselves. 

Love a tree today.

Joining Parul and other tree lovers across the world each second and fourth Thursday for #ThursdayTreeLove.

The Bird Watching Channel #WordlessWednesday

I find myself tuning in more and more to what happens outside my window.  Call it the bird watching channel.  I haven't gotten into feeding birds yet, but that may be coming one day soon if the pandemic continues.

This bird is a male Northern Cardinal, a common bird where I live in the Southern Tier of New York.  But "common" and "I see one right outside my window" are two different things.  I love that flash of red against the snow.

Right before I took these pictures, I saw a female, but couldn't get my cam...I mean, my phone, soon enough to capture it.  For the record, the female Northern Cardinal differs quite a bit in coloring.  There is a female in the second picture, but it was too far away for my old iPhone to capture it.

So much to learn, as long as I watch the Bird Watching Channel.

Joining Sandee at Comedy Plus for her #WordlessWednesday.

The Future Dream

Back in 2015, I tried my hand at Five Sentence Fiction.  This is outside my comfort zone for two reasons:

1.  I find it hard to be brief; and
2.  I am not a fiction writer.

I decided that five sentence fiction piece would never see the light of day.  It stayed in my blogging drafts.  Until today.

That five sentence story originated with a dream I had many, many years ago, not long before I left the Bronx, a borough of New York City.  I grew up in the Bronx, and would have dreamed this in the early 1970's.

After her parents died of the superflu, Alexa knew her options would either be an orphanage, or attempting to flee to Canada for a new life.  That's how she found herself climbing a rusted elevated train trestle, police bullets hitting the metal all around her, fleeing the American dictatorship at the Bronx/Canadian border.  But, once in Canada, she found herself slowly starving in a refugee camp, and took the desperate gamble of escaping with her camp friends Alesha and Brandon.  Now separated from her friends, she hitched a ride to Toronto, and disappeared into the anonymous crowds.  Years later, as a famous writer whose last novel sparked a revolution, she got her revenge on her former country.

I just stared at these five sentences, amazed, for two reasons.

1.  That "superflu" is coming true, in a form I never imagined when I dreamed this in the early 1970's. We don't have the dictatorship, the U.S. border is still hours away from the Bronx, but we are living in a pandemic whose effects are still only partially realized.  And COVID-19 is not the flu, no matter how some continue to claim that it is "just the flu".

As of a couple of days ago our death toll in the United States from COVID-19 has hit 500,000.  The world death toll, which we don't seem to pay much attention to nowadays, is around 2.7 million. These statistics, of course, will be out of date (I am writing this post on Monday) by the time I post this on Tuesday.

We must remember that each of those 500,000, each of those 2.7 million, were not a statistic.  They were people loved by others, fathers, mothers, grandparents, children, grandchildren.  We also seem to forget that fact too quickly, as some even argue about whether these statistics are fake.

There are also the millions more who are or will be long haulers, plagued by months and months of fatigue, infections, low oxygen, and more. 

And...

2.  That "famous writer whose last novel sparked a revolution..."  who was I even thinking of?  It certainly won't be me, although I actually wrote a post about the great COVID-19 novel back in May.

Then, there was the NaNoWriMo novel I tried to write several years ago.  I haven't tried to participate in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month, which takes place every November) for a few years.

That dream from the 1970's is still stuck in my head and it still reappears periodically. 

No, someone else will have to write that novel that will change the world and maybe show what happened to us to a future world.  Right now I don't have the energy or the ambition.

But, I can still dream.

Where Did Our Love Go? #MusicMovesMe

 

Welcome to another edition of Music Moves Me!

Who are the #MusicMovesMe bloggers? We are bloggers who blog about music each Monday and if you have music to share with us, you are most welcome to join! (Music Posts Only , please!)   First, there is XmasDolly,   Her co-hostesses are: Stacy of Stacy Uncorked, Cathy from Curious as a Cathy, and me. Xmas Dolly has had some issues with her blog, but I hope she is able to join us today.

Each month we have a guest co-hostess who picks themes for the month, and this month we are featuring Songbird from Songbird's Crazy World.

Songbird's theme for today is "You Pick".

Shamefully, given how much I loved the Supremes while growing up, I never paid tribute to the late Mary Wilson of the Supremes.  This talented singer and author, who also performed solo, died in her sleep at the age of 76 on February 8.

You Can't Hurry Love.

Stop! In the Name of Love.

Where Did our Love Go?  It's interesting that so many Supremes songs talked about love, something we don't seem to have enough of today.

 Here's a short clip of Mary Wilson singing "Floy Joy".

Finally, a longer clip of Mary Wilson performing Gloria Gaynor's hit song "I Will Survive".

 

Bonus song. Motown was such a part of my growing up, and Smoky Robinson is one of its most influential artists.  Smoky Robinson just celebrated his 81st birthday, so let's give him a birthday shout-out with a live performance of "Tracks of My Tears" from 2018.

 

Where has our love for each other gone?  I hope we can find it soon, without more sorrow.

That's a wrap!

See you again next Monday, same time same place.

Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Muffins

The supermarket we normally shop at, here in the Southern Tier of New York State, has a monthly magazine that includes several recipes drawn from various cookbooks.

The December issue had a recipe I decided to bake earlier this week.  I had all the ingredients and it was SmartPoints friendly for the WW (formerly Weight Watchers) program I follow to maintain my weight.

I don't do much scratch baking nowadays but I think this is going in the "yes, I am going to make this again" list.

If you are interested in the recipe here it is.

Basically, it uses old fashioned oats, canned pumpkin puree, and finely shredded carrots. some other add ins, and spices.  It's sweetened using maple syrup.

I used almond milk, as I don't keep dairy milk in the house.  The eggs I used were from someone my son knows and one of them turned out to be a double yolker.  I'm fortunate to live in an area where I can get farm fresh eggs from time to time even in the winter.

Verdict:  I might have baked this a minute or two longer, but they were nice and moist.  I ate several and am freezing the rest.  We'll see how the freezing works.

I haven't made muffins in years.  Several years ago  I would bake corn muffins and blueberry muffins.

How did I get out of the habit, I wonder?  I used to enjoy this activity.

It's interesting how we change with the years.

It's time to rediscover some of my roots.  

 

The Dance Party

Today there was an inter generational dance party on Zoom.  I participated, along with over 10,000 other people.  This is AARP's fourth dance party with an organization called Daybreaker.  I've participated in two of them, having been told of these by a cousin.

The theme was "Motown" and, after some Chicago Steppin' lessons, I found myself with tangled feet. The feed froze for several minutes because so many people had joined, but the party was able to get restarted.

This was my second virtualdance party event, and there is one part of it that gets the tears flowing - when the DJ's show the video screens of people holding up pictures of family and friends that they miss, for whatever reason.  The DJ also showed us people dancing in their homes.

But before that, singer Thelma Houston sang a song that I love (although my spouse can't stand it).  I can't believe she will be 75 years old in May.

The years pass, don't they.  But did any of us ever suspect it would get this way?  A dance party with over 10,000 from all over the world?

It isn't all rainbows and unicorns, as the saying goes.

Two people I have worked closely with for years lost their fathers in the past three weeks - one in his sleep, one from COVID.  A third person who I occasionally had contact with at work (but I know others who worked with him closely) died after a 19 month battle with cancer.  That's just a small slice of what is happening all over the world in these days.  I don't need to make a list.  We all know it.

It is a sad time for everyone.

But history teaches us this lesson:  we must let go of the old world and embrace the new.  We can see the new world taking shape in a haze, but one day its identity will become clear.

Our children and grandchildren will bear witness to what happened in 2020 and 2021 to their children as my generation dies out, and one day, it will all be just a memory to be studied in history class, as "the Pestilence" (what we now call the Black Death") and the 1918 flu pandemic are to us. 

We may be pleasantly (or unpleasantly) surprised by aspects of this new world, but one thing is certain:  we will always have music and dance, as long as humanity exists.  Until then, my dear readers, I hope you are staying safe and doing what is necessary to survive, and - yes, thrive.

Winter Sky Moods #SkywatchFriday

Winter has turned deadly.  From my heated living room in the Southern Tier of New York State, I watch what is happening in Texas and vicinity.  A co-worker's daughter in Austin was, as of Thursday, on day five of no electricity, no heat, and now, no water.  A cousin in a suburb of Ft. Worth fared better, and was able to give shelter to someone else.  At the worst of times, the best in people can come out.

Meanwhile, I am watching the sky.  Today, it's white with snow once again (we got several inches overnight) but the sky showed its various moods earlier this month.

How about a variety of February winter photos?

A white sky with hills in the distance.

A farm field.   Doesn't the sky seem to go on forever?

Along the Susquehanna River, near the last photo.

 A puddle reflection.

A contrail cutting across feathery clouds.

Our way of life is so fragile, just a massive power failure away from disaster, as Nature is reminding us right now.  I hope all of my readers are staying safe (and warm, if it's winter where they live.)

Joining Yogi and other sky watching bloggers for #SkywatchFriday.

Raisins and Almonds 2021

Yesterday, a blogger I like to read regularly wrote about a lullaby that has become a tradition in her family.  It brought back a dear memory.

Back in 2016, I remembered a lullaby my father used to sing to me.  I can still hear his voice singing the refrain from the lullaby, in the language of his parents (a language I, in turn, never learned).  I said to myself, "After all these years, I wonder if I can use You Tube and a search engine to find the song?"

He passed away some 35 years ago but I still remember.

I have many childhood memories of my Dad.  I remember, especially, walks he would take me on some Sunday afternoons (no doubt, to give my stay at home Mom a break).  He would love to watch houses under construction, and we would walk to the construction sites. He would look at the houses-to-be.  I would listen to Yankee baseball games on a tinny sounding transistor radio.

Then, after my mother died, Dad raised me as a single father.  Things got rather stormy at times as I traveled through my teenage years, but he hung in there.

Anyway, about that lullaby.  It took about 20 minutes, but I found it, back in 2016.  I'd like to reintroduce it to my readers.

The English name is Raisins and Almonds. Please enjoy this performance by violinist Itzhak Perlman.

Itzhak Perlman contracted polio at age four and does not have full use of his legs.  He performs sitting down for that reason.  Many believe he is the greatest violinist alive today.

The song "Raisins and Almonds" was written in 1880 for the Yiddish theatre and the lyrics tell of a widow in Ukraine who rocks her only son to sleep, singing of a white goat who goes to market to bring home raisins and almonds.  In those days, in the "old country", both were luxury items.

This (with lyrics in both Yiddish and English) is is the original Yiddish version, as sung by actress Jane Seymour.

Jane Seymour, born Joyce Penelope Wilhelmina Frankenberg, had a Jewish father. Two of her great aunts were Holocaust survivors.  Who knows, maybe her father sung this song to her.  My father sung this song to me, his only child, in Yiddish.

I never learned the lyrics, and I never sung it to my son.  A shame, in a way.

A song, a memory...what song brings back memories for you?