Brrr... (again)

Ran across this blog from 12 years ago and could not resist reposting it. 

Wonder why?

 Thursday, December 18, 2014

Brrr...

I continue to live in NW Pennsylvania because I don’t enjoy hot weather.  The summers are relatively cool (usually) and the winters -- well -- they are a bit more than cool, but I tell myself that the cold preserves me better. Earlier this season, even before the calendar start of winter, when what the weather people called an Arctic Express blasted Buffalo, it seemed too cold to snow here, but today is different.  I woke up to snow, and it has not stopped all day.  Now early evening, there looks to be a least a foot of the white stuff on the ground, not to mention deeper drifts, and it is still coming down.  Natives of this area would say that we are paying our dues for the seventeen days of sun this past summer or for a lovely autumn – several nice days in a row – maybe even three.   If you are not from around here, you need to realize that snow people believe that we will “pay” for every nice weather day we have throughout the “non-winter” month(s).  We simply cannot comprehend that there are places in the world that enjoy nice weather most of the time and where people don't know what lake-effect snow means.  I mean -- we know that there are places like that; we just don’t really get it. We live by our experience with weather and have begun to take some level of pride in our ability to survive. We often mention things like we are of hardy stock and take pride in our ability to keep a sense of humor when surrounded by white and gray from sky to ground. We also know that a person needs more than one type of snow shovel.  Bless our hearts. 

To make matters worse this time of year -- what I am finding now is that I don't enjoy winter as much as I did when I was younger.  Duh....  There are a few reasons. Snowshoes are no longer as much fun.  Ice has taken on new meaning now that my age group no longer jokes about broken hips... and... my eye balls sometimes seem to freeze during the time it takes to walk to my mailbox and back.  Yep -- new meanings. Winter no longer means ice-skating on Alice Lake at Mead Park, sledding on Piccadilly Hill, or spontaneous snowball fights. Then again it no longer means wool coats that when wet weigh twice your body weight. (Remember that wet wool smell of mittens and socks drying by the fire at Nichols lodge?  Actually -- I seriously don't miss that smell.)   

Then or now, winter weather is winter weather. As time passes, it takes longer and longer to get psychologically prepared for it even if we do have access to better winter clothing and to boots that do not require bread wrappers over our socks. Winter in NW Pennsylvania can be especially challenging, but then again -- there is a certain beauty to the change of the seasons here as well -- even if you start in early October to count the days until spring... even if you wonder if it will snow the night of the prom in May.  I think I will stay here for a while longer -- I am a snow person.

  Stay warm... 

Change of Plans

A Tribute to the people of David Corry ... As my son said more than once when I was telling him about this experience -- you rarely find that kind of service in today's world.)

 A few days ago, in a moment of extreme laziness, a lot of surface ice on a long driveway, and an impressive wind chill factor, I decided to drive my Wrangler down the driveway to get my mail instead of walking.  Alas, when I pushed the start button,  the battery was dead... dead... dead....  Time for a change of plans.

I called my Jeep Dealer (David Corry) thinking that the service department probably would be closing early since it was Saturday after all and the weather was terrible. I was just thinking that they could put my Wrangler on the list for Monday morning.  Surprise, surprise.  Within minutes the Service Department had arranged for two gentlemen to come to my home, jump my vehicle and take it off to the dealership to see what was what. Communication by text worked well from that point on.  Easy Peasy.

I think it was in less than three hours - maybe less than two, the Jeep was returned with a new battery and all ready to go.  The thing is -- I never even had to put shoes on to take care of this. It was wonderful.  Plus --  after checking with me, they even did the state inspection that I had been meaning to schedule, but hadn't gotten around to.  

What started out as an "Oh, No!" turned into a "This is wonderful!"

How often does that happen?

How many times can a person say thank you!  The people of David Corry get an A+... excellent service all the way around ... above and beyond.  Thank you again ... and ...  Happy 10th Anniversary!

The Hug Seen Around the World?

 

I saw an ICE agent hug a protester in Minneapolis and for a brief moment, the insanity stopped. I am surprised that there was not more made of it. Well actually -- I am not surprised.  The mainstream media doesn't like to cover positive moments in time or present the full story. 

Picture this.  You have seen it a lot lately. Two lines.  Protesters screaming into the faces of ICE agents. It is a common scene these days.  Yet -- this time, it evolved into a nice moment. It was a positive in a boiling sea of negative. Hope many people saw it - caught this brief pause.  This leftist anger needs to be assuaged.  Too much hatred flowing in one direction.  It has been my experience that hatred is never productive and it doesn't  ever accomplish anything good.  

In the middle of air horns and screaming hysteria, an ICE agent spoke quietly to a protester. It was a genuine and calm moment.  He asked if she needed a hug ... said she looked like she needed a hug. She admitted that she did.  He hugged her.   It was a moment of kindness in time...perhaps unrecognized, but important.  I, for one, won't forget it.  Ever.

Human reaching out to human. Maybe there is hope after all. 

One more thing....  I implore women (and men as well) not to allow themselves to be used and taken advantage of. Don't take on the manufactured anger of others. You don't need that to be worthy ... of value. Think.  You know yourself. Do not allow manipulation of your energy. You are master of the world you create for yourself. You are not a puppet.  No one can tie strings on you unless you allow it. Think of where you want to be tomorrow.

 

 

Angel On The Porch

 A week into the new year now.  It sort of feels the same as last year, but I am trying to sense a difference. 2026 is young.  I don't know about you, but I, personally, am going to try to make it a good year for myself and for those whose lives I may have an opportunity to touch. This is sort of my goal every year.  Not sure how successful I am, but I do think that trying counts. Hope so anyway....

What really made me stop and think about this is the angel who appeared on my porch the morning after the most recent ice storm -- it was still mega icy out and yet -- there she stood ... a lovely angel with a lovely smile and cleats on her boots.  She brought me a book -- because it reminded her of me as far as sense of humor goes and, in some ways because of the sort of things I write about in this blog -- or maybe more about how I write about them. That she would even think of me touched my heart. The book is a bonus. Huge.  She mentioned that she had ended up using the positive messages of this book as a daily devotion.  I can see why.  I could never come close to that in my writing.  Wish I could.

So .. I recommend this book to you. My hope is to share the blessing that was passed on to me.  It is entitled When Life Gives You Pears.  The writer is Jeannie Gaffigan. These words are also on the cover -- "The Healing Power of Family, Faith, and Funny People."  That gives you a hint about the nature of this writing.  Warning... If you choose to read it, you will occasionally find yourself smiling/laughing through tears.  Have Kleenex at the ready. 😊 

So thankful for the kindness of others.  I believe in angels.  I think I always have.  May 2026 bless you and yours.... 

I wish you an angel on your porch.

Hold On

 It's the New Year and for some reason I am looking back instead of forward -- at least temporarily.  I am also thinking of things that I sort of miss from the past.  Plus ... I am wondering about things I used to find interesting when much younger.

Does the PA turnpike still have those ramps for run-away trucks? In all my growing up years of traveling that road, only one time did I ever see a truck stuck at the top of one of those ramps. What a thrill that must have been for that unfortunate truck driver.

Will I ever forget the hair and voice of Roseanne Roseannadanna or the sway and voice of Mamma Cass singing Monday, Monday with the "Mamas and the Papas"? (Where and Why in the world did they come up with that name for their group?) And... what about Simon and Garfunkel's The Sound of Silence?  Have you heard Disturbed's  rendition of it?  Amazing!  If you haven't, I suggest you Google or YouTube it. I suggest you close your eyes while you listen.

I have some vivid childhood memories ... and ... at the same time, I can still see my grown-up kids as children and wonder if I am actually remembering moments or revisiting photos caught in my head somewhere.

One other question running through my mind.  How is it that I have lived 76 years about 45 minutes from a Great Lake without ever knowing of weather that includes episodes of massive waves and seiche?   Seriously --  I swear I do not remember ever seeing or hearing the word seiche or the seeing photos of the  phenomenon of seiche and now recently seiche talk and photos have appeared twice within a few weeks.  Think about it - one side of a Great Lake recedes because of winds and causes twenty-five foot waves at another location????  This is nuts! I sort of wish I never heard of seiche.  I don't even like the way the word catches behind my front teeth when I say it,  and I am not sure that I am even pronouncing it correctly. Does it rhyme with quiche? Am I alone in this? Had you ever heard of this phenomenon? Please tell me no. 

Anyway -- years come and go.  Everything changes.  It's hard keeping up sometimes. No wonder we occasionally look back to things familiar... and cherish them.

Even holidays.   "... Times they are a-changin'" (Remember Bob Dylan?).   Once in awhile I speculate about this  change phenomenon.  I think it is what Time does to Living ... or.. is it what Living does to Time?

Hold on for the ride. Personally I am hopeful for 2026. It will be amazing to look back on this one.  I also think that you can look backward and forward almost at the same time.  I am doing that right now. Enough on that.  

Happy New Year!

Winter Has Officially Begun

 Winter has officially begun and to think I thought it had already started.  Why? Well -- perhaps subzero temperatures and four feet of snow may have had something to do with that idea as did the recurring phrase "Persistent Snow Band" complete with impressive maps on repetitive weather reports.  I even purchased a handy-dandy battery operated snow shovel (a Christmas present from me to me) that can blow snow twenty feet in any direction -- some of it even blows backward into your face if you are working against the wind.  Perhaps that is why protective googles are included in the purchase.  Perhaps I should have worn them. Anyway -- I had no doubt that it would be a White Christmas here.  Then... the weather took a bit of a turn.

There is still snow, but... Christmas without fresh snow?  Bummer.  The only snow around here really are the rather impressive remains of snow banks at the top of my driveway and a few inches of ground cover.  Drat.  I mean -- who doesn't enjoy waking up Christmas morning to find a lovely, white, fluffy covering of new snow to freshen things up a bit?

Every year I wonder what Christmas must be like for those who do not live in snow country.  I sort of feel bad for them. Then again that is not what Christmas is about.

Either way. Snow or no snow -- Merry Christmas to all!  

A Memory at Holiday Time

Once upon a time... over half a century ago... I was just about out of my parents' home for good when they bought a property that had been, in part, a Christmas tree farm, and a lot of the trees were still perfect or good enough for the holiday season -- even though they had not been trimmed for a while.  So...   my dad thought of the idea of putting an old mailbox and hanging a few tree cutting saws on the fence -- where someone looking for a  tree could put  - I think it was two dollars inside the box - grab a saw and head out into the pasture to find the perfect one -- on the honor system. It was so fun.  When I got home from school for the holidays, I would watch families come, grab a saw hanging next to the mailbox and head out into the pasture to cut a tree, drag it out through the snow, tie it on top of the car and head home to decorate -- to give the season a start with a fresh cut, wonderful smelling tree and more importantly -- a family together memory.  

It was also fun to go out to the mailbox at the end of the day and remove all the one dollar bills. There were a lot of them.  I think my Dad quietly donated the money to a local church that made it their mission to provide food to those who were on hard times.  My Dad could not stand the idea of children going hungry.  It made me wonder if his growing up years didn't have some going to bed hungry memories. After all, he grew up in the era of The Great Depression. The experiences of those times became a heavy, damp, and itchy cloak over entire generations that came to save everything from rubber bands  and "good" pieces of string to bread bags and old shoes -- just in case you might need them. (I still have that tendency - one that was instilled in me when I was very young.)  Anyway -- I also remember that my Dad told me one time about hooking up the team of work horses and driving the buckboard from the family farm into the village of Findley Lake, NY where he sold fresh produce to the city people who were there for the summer.  He showed me the one cottage where people from Erie, PA stayed every summer and mentioned that if it had not been for their generosity in hand-me-downs from their boys, he and his two brothers would not have had clothing or shoes to go to school the following year. Times were not easy.

We have come a long way in a generation or two.  Central heating,  indoor plumbing, enough food and clothing... a tractor to replace a team of horses.... When I think about memories like this one, I am deeply thankful for the life that my parents provided for me growing up and thankful that I could do so for my children as well.  At least I hope I did.  Any parent always wonders if he or she could have done better.  If my kids are any indication  --  we did well together.  They are the best...the absolute best ever. 

Merry Christmas everyone.  Count your Blessings.  Make some memories... the good kind... the kind that you can look back on and smile. Time goes by so quickly....

Note... 55 years ago the average cost of a live Christmas tree was between $12 and $15 unless you wanted a fancy Douglas Fir -- which sold for way more around here.  The current average cost of a live Christmas tree today is between $80 and $100. Further -- I now own most of what used to be that Christmas tree farm.  My Dad gave the land to me about 25 years ago now.  Almost all the Christmas trees were long gone by then. I did have to have 33 huge and sickly pines cut in order have a lawn in front the home I had built in 2001. Maybe they were the last of the Christmas trees -- all grown up by then and on their way out. End of an era tree wise. Then again -- I noticed just the other day that there are two small Scotch pines growing now near the pond in the pasture behind my home.  I am not going to cut them down - ever. I so hope that whatever the combination of insects and fungal blights that killed all the other large pines around here doesn't find them. Anyway -- i am thinking of them as the pasture's Christmas trees -- both of them...a double bonus. 

 Again... Merry Christmas ....🎄