167 Tree hugger redux

Still hugging the trees

The tree hugger in me loves this time of year for the vibrant colors and shades gracing the landscape. I really don’t like fall because winter follows, but I can’t help but embrace the unbelievable tones that assault our senses from many terrific, tremendous trees.

The view from my front porch is especially gorgeous as the cherry trees that explode with amazing vibrant blooms in spring also put on a colorful show in the fall.

I had always heard those wonderful trees were the same as the ones that line the tidal basin in our nation’s capital. I never knew for sure until Savvy Trish was doing some local research and found an article detailing how the trees were acquired.

The information reinforced the stories I had heard. The D.C. trees were donated to the U.S. in the early 1900s by the government of Japan and are famous for the color display around the Tidal Basin each year.

An article by Wayde Byard was printed in The Winchester Star’s May 4, 1982, edition. He explained how two local residents, Withrow Legge, Handley football coach, and Stewart Bell Sr., a member of the Winchester school board, had the idea of obtaining some of those beautiful trees for the Handley High School campus.

With some contacts and ingenuity, the gentlemen pulled it off, and area residents have enjoyed the trees for decades.

Horticulture students at the school planted the trees along the Jefferson Street side of the campus (which is basically my front yard). They have remained there since that day in the 1920s when they were trucked to Winchester and later planted on the campus. Reports were made yearly to the government about the condition of the trees that have survived many a harsh winter.

So that settles that rumor --- those are part of the Japanese trees that came to D.C. so please enjoy them just a little more now that we know for sure the history.

But there are plenty more trees to enjoy around the area and basically anywhere your travels take you. I have made that my mission the last year or so to photograph as many as possible. I even went back through my photos to pull out ones taken in past years.

I started a Pinterest board called Amazing Trees where the photos tell the story. My latest addition is a tree sculpture in the National Art Gallery’s sculpture garden in Washington, D.C. It is a silver color and towers over the landscape. There is something intriguing and appealing about the tree even though it is not real.

I recently found a three-trunk tree that I added to the collection that was part of a miniature golf course. The shade was appreciated in the summer, but I had no idea what was providing it until I looked a little closer --- three trunks.

 

I can even enjoy the palm trees that populate the beachside locations along the southern states. Not any shade for sure but the effect is striking. 

Also, I have to mention the table tree (the name my grandchildren have given it) on the other side of the Handley campus from the cherry trees. The branches have formed a space in the middle with enough space for at least four of them to take a seat --- bench tree might be a better nickname. 

There you have it--the tree hugger is still on the prowl for more amazing, tremendous trees. Take my advice and make the time to look up and around for some special woody friends that you didn’t know existed and maybe you took for granted. But also look down to make sure you don’t trip or fall while gazing upward at the trees. 

Always a tree hugger, Frances

166 Dad & sports

Dad & Sports

As I watched the Washington Redskins go down to defeat in this week's Monday night football, I found myself occasionally bobbing and weaving in my recliner as I helped Washington runners head down the field. 

The realization of my movements brought a smile to my face and I said, "Hi, Dad."

My father Fred Moore, who died in 2003, was the best bobber and weaver TV viewer I have ever seen. He was skilled in this activity for football and basketball but really excelled as a boxing viewer.

The Saturday Night Fight was a required event in our house in the 50s and 60s. I didn't like watching the fights much but liked keeping my dad company and watching him duck and lurch right and left as the fighters punched. 

Plus the commercials were great:  "Call for Phillip Morris;" "Plop, plop, fizz, fizz--oh, what a relief it is;" and "Brylcreem, a little dab will do you. Use more only if you dare. Brylcreem, the gals will all pursue you. They love to put their fingers in your hair!" Never could understand why you would want to put your fingers in greasy hair!

My dad was 6 foot 2 inches, which served him well in Navy intermural basketball. Since I was the tall child, he had hopes for me as a basketball start. I had small hands and not much interest in playing a sport in which you get sweaty. 



Likewise for baseball where I was very good at hitting a ball or a strike into foul territory. With my fair complexion, I had a tendency to get very red in the face in the summer heat and to sweat even more with baseball than basketball. Adults told me to sit down and cool off because I looked so bad. 

I found a sport that did not cause overheating and could be done in the reclining position--competitive swimming. My father was stationed in Puerto Rico and that also helped.


My folks were so happy to see my sister and me competing in the pool that we were paid when we earned medals and ribbons. $1 for first place, 50 cents for second place, and a quarter for a third-place finish. In the early 1960s, it seemed like a lot of money. 

It is odd to me was that we were not paid for good grades, only for sports achievements. 


My swimming career ended when I went to college. I was not good enough to compete on the collegiate level and was having too much fun doing other things anyway.

My husband Harry and I would frequently meet my dad at college bowl games in the later years of his life. It was dangerous to sit between them at games. If we were all standing for a big play, both men would move downfield at the big pass or run--Squish! 

We would also call each other after an exciting Florida State, Virginia Tech, or Redskins game. Although I never became the athlete he hoped for, we shared a sports bond until the end. I know he is still bobbing and weaving up there!

                                                           Trish

165 The Onion!

The Ancient History of the ONION

Sometimes one keeps running into a subject for no seeming reason at all. That’s how I chose to give you the scoop on the popular vegetable--the onion--this week. 

A funny article about what one can do with an onion beside cook and eat it was on BoredomTherapy.com site recently. 

Then, I was flipping through some year or so old magazine in the doctor’s waiting room (don’t even remember the magazine) and there was a factoid about the world’s largest onion in the Guinness Book of World Records. 

Okay, kind of strange, but when I got home I found an unsolicited email from a farm in Vidalia, GA about how wonderful their onions are (yes, I do think they are the best.) Okay, three times in a period of less than a week. Time to research the onion; seems it was calling to me!

This is not likely to be my most popular blog, but I hope you find some of it curious and interesting! Next time you cut an onion maybe something here will make you smile through your tears.

Enough explanation! Here is what I have learned about the onion.

Onions are incredibly healthy (and tasty) as an addition to almost any meal. Humans have known this apparently for thousands of years. Bronze Age settlement excavations (5000 BCE) show remains of figs, dates, and onions. 

Egypt, too, was farming as early as 3000 BCE. In ancient Egypt not only were the onions a staple of the diet – eaten by the pyramid builders along with radishes (great breath, huh?!), the onion has been shown to be a symbol of worship as well as one of the forms of payment to the builders. Some archeologists posit that the onion’s spherical shape and its concentric rings show eternal life and were even used in burial ceremonies. Traces of onion were found in Ramses IV’s eye sockets.

The Greeks found the onion to have medicinal properties (from “Onions in the Middle Ages,” p. 6) to lighten the “blood’s balance” (whatever that might mean). Athletes’ diets were filled with onions and Roman gladiators rubbed their skin with onion to “make their muscles firmer.” [I did not make this stuff up. It seems so weird that it is likely true.]

On to the Middle Ages and the value of the onion persisted. The onion was so prized that onion bulbs were used to pay rent and were given as gifts. [Shaking my head--thinking next time I need a hostess gift, I’ll just grab an onion or two.] European doctors prescribed the onion to cure infertility in both women and animals, while Pre-Columbian Native American used the onion in making dyes, syrup, and poultice formations.

So today the world onion production is estimated at over 100 billion pounds a year. This calculates to about 13 ½ pounds per person. The National Onion Association says Libya has the highest consumption with 66.8 pounds per person. The NOA data shows that onions represent the third largest fresh vegetable industry in the U.S. producing 2 metric million tons annually. 

I looked up Pace Foods (we like their salsa) and found they use 21 million pounds of fresh onions annually.

Now as a wrap up on the onion history, onions are thought to have originated in Asia and were found at sites from about 3500 BC. Their durability during winter was the impetus that gave them their status as a long-lived food. It was noticed, too, that the thicker the onion skin, the more severe the winter. 

Parsley, although first found in the Mediterranean, was often combined with the onion to sweeten one’s breath. Is it irony that parsley is part of the hemlock family!

The favorite at our house is the Vidalia – that sweet Georgia onion and, on occasion, onion dip. We use these for almost all our onion eating. 

The basic tip for no-tears onion chopping is still grandmother’s suggestion to have a piece of bread sticking out of one’s mouth to catch the fumes before they get to eyes and nose. The chemical irritant is Syn-propanethial-S-oxide (which I did NOT RESEARCH).

You never know what new information can pop up any old time. Thanks for reading!

Glenne      

164 One Book

Reading one book

In its 15th year, the One Book One Community project in Winchester and Frederick and Clarke counties went in a different direction--reading a cookbook.

But this is no ordinary cookbook--“Dishing Up Virginia.” It has stories and highlights (145 recipes) of every area in the commonwealth and entices the reader to try as many as possible.

The community got the opportunity recently at Handley Library to do just that. Samples from area eateries were offered free to anyone who came through the doors. Who knew a cookbook could be so interesting and come to life so vividly.

In addition, a movie “Chef” started this year’s events at the Alamo Drafthouse Cinema. It is a hilarious story of a chef who finds his way in the tumultuous world of cooking. It has many ups and downs that are prevalent in the profession.

The final event will be the author’s visit this coming Wednesday. Patrick Evans-Hylton will tell the audience how he got into this line of work and why he continues in this field. This is a free event and open to the public at 7 p.m. at John Kerr Elementary School in Winchester.

Finding a book that appeals to the community is never easy but this one appealed immediately. Food always draws people together and this selection definitely proves that point. The attendance has been great and the comments positive.

Over the past years, One Book has offered an array of titles, events, and authors. From the first book, “Rocket Boys,” to this year’s, there has been a collection of memoirs, historic novels, as well as a bit of nonfiction. None of these choices have disappointed.

There is always a group of reliables that come to all of the events while newcomers often join when it is a specific title that piques their interest. All are welcome for any reason or motivation.

Suggestions are always welcome as the committee works all year reading and discussing books to come up with a choice that appeals to the masses.

Visit the Facebook page--One Book One Community--to leave any suggestions or comments.

Here are the titles that have been selected over the last 15 years. It is never too late to read and enjoy!!

2003  Rocket Boys by Homer Hickam

2004  Seabiscuit by Laura Hillebrand

2005  Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time by Mark Haddon
2006  Wish You Well by David Baldacci
2007  On Agate Hill by Lee Smith
2008  This I Believe, edited by Jay Allison and Dan Gediman

2009  See You in a Hundred Years by Logan Ward
2010  To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
2011  The Devil Amongst the Lawyers by Sharyn McCrumb
2012  For Cause and Comrades by James McPherson
2013  O Pioneers! by Willa Cather
2014  Monuments Men by Robert M. Edsel
2015  The End of Night by Paul Bogard
2016  Factory Man by Beth Macy
2017  Dishing Up Virginia by Patrick Evans-Hylton

163 A New Tack

A New Tack

I heard a CEO talking about his company's future, he said "They were going to chart a new course, take a fresh tack. Isn't it amazing how much of the language of sailing is part of our vocabulary? 

Sounds like he was going to jettison the old ways, give the past a wide berth, maybe leave current employees high and dry (they may want to get three sheets to the wind), or maybe it was just a shot across the bow to see where investors stand. 

By and large, unless one knows the ropes, you could be all at sea about the future of the company. 

As you will see by the list of words below, the English language is chock-a-block with seafaring words. One interesting website that invites viewers to ask and answer questions about the English language and then vote on the best answers, speculated as to why sailing terms entered the language hand over fist. 

Contributors to English Language & Usage, english.stackexchange.com, thought that England as a sea-faring nation spread nautical terms around the world. Additionally, the large sailing ships were so complicated that every item had to have a precise name that every man on every ship would use in the same way. When Britain first ruled the waves, there were very few other large-scale ventures so smaller industries were not as standardized in their terminology. They likened the incorporation of sailing terms to the change in our language that wide-spread use of computers and later technologies brought about.

So here is the list. I will explain the ones that are not that obvious. Let me know of others that you think of.

A shot across the bows--a warning shot signifying the ship is willing to do battle.

Aboveboard--above the deck, out on the open deck

All at sea--out of the sight of land in the olden times of inaccurate navigational aids

Anchors aweigh

Batten down the hatches

Between the devil and the deep blue sea

Broad in the beam

By and large--On a sailing ship, by means into the wind. Large means off the wind. Sailors might say, "By and large, this ships handles nicely."

Chock-a-block--When sails are hoisted as high as possible, the two blocks in the tackle were jammed tightly together.

Clean bill of health--Officials from the port of departure gave a bill of health to the ship to present at its port of arrival. Hopefully, a clean bill of health meant the crew had not brought any communicable diseases from its originating port.

Close quarters

Copper-bottomed

Cut and run--cutting loose a ship's or boat's anchor and sailing away in a hurry

Edging forward--When a ship sails directly into the wind, it must take many small tacks at just off the wind in order to make leeway. Since the ship did so much sideward sailing, it inched forward. This would be particularly true in the tight confines of a harbor.

Feeling blue--When a ship lost its captain during a voyage, it would fly a blue flag and a blue band would be painted around the ship's hull when it returned to port.

Fathom out

Full to the gunwales'

Get underway

Give a wide berth

Go by the board

Groggy

Hand over fist--sailors had to pull the sheets (ropes) as fast as they could, one hand over the other repeatedly to trim or haul the sails.

Hard and fast

Headway--progress or rate of progress in sailing 

High and dry

In the offing--offing is the more distant part of the sea as seen from the shore

Know the ropes--New sailors had to learn the names and how to handle all the sheets, sails, and other gear on the ship.

Jury rig--to rig makeshift equipment

Keelhaul--to tie up a sailor and haul him under the bottom of a ship (the keel) and up on the other side as a punishment
Loose cannon

Mal de mer

Panic stations

Scuttlebutt--a cask for holding drinking water and, by extension, the idle talk exchanged while drinking from it--yesterday's water cooler!

Shipshape and Bristol fashion--good and seamanlike order. The origin came from when Bristol was the major west coast port of Britain at a time when all its shipping was maintained in good order.

Shiver my timbers--In heavy seas, ships would be lifted up and pounded down so hard as to shiver the timbers that made up the ship, startling the sailors.

Slush fund--On ships in the eighteenth century, slush referred to the waste fat which was left after the ship’s cook had boiled salt beef for the crew to eat. Sailors had a limited diet, so there was a fair amount of this fat, which was skimmed off and stored in barrels. In the US Navy, the fat was sold and the proceeds of this sale were called a slush fund. The money was spent in buying luxuries for the crew. The term later became used to describe a fund used to supplement the salaries of US government workers.

Taken aback--when a sudden change of wind flattens a vessel's square sails back against the masts and stops the forward motion of the ship

Tell it to the marines--beginning in the 17th century, marines were land forces who were stationed on ships of the Royal Navy. As landlubbers, they were understandably naive if not ignorant about life aboard a vessel. Sailors took advantage and concocted outlandish stories that the marines swallowed hook, line, and sinker. Accordingly, any outlandish story heard on land or sea and recognized as bilge was greeted with the full rejoinder, “You may tell that to the marines, but the sailors will not believe it,”

The bitter end--Going back to 1759, the bitter end is the part of a cable (line, rope) which is round about the bitts (the two great timbers used to belay, hold, cables) when the ship is at anchor.

Tack--to change a vessel’s direction, or the new direction 

The cut of his jib--In the 17th century, the shape of the jib sail often identified a vessel's nationality, and hence whether it was hostile or friendly.

Three sheets to the wind--When 3 sheets (sails) became unattached, the ship would lurch around like a drunken sailor.

Tide over

Walk the plank

Well, shiver me timbers, I have to stop, but there are many more. Do you have any favorites?

Trish

162 Smells of nostalgia

The Smells of Nostalgia

The radio is on BBC news. My driver’s side window is down. I smell freshly mowed grass as I drive by the old high school. The radio news is not good – hate, floods, foolish people in D.C. – but the smell of the grass makes me smile. 

No, I grin! It is the smell of field hockey, football games, and youth. I was a mean left inner on the high school hockey team.


So what other smells make me nostalgic? I remember once being amazed at a Helen Keller quote: “Smell is a potent wizard that transports you…all the years you have lived.” I pull a sticky note pack out of the desk drawer and write one thought on each one. This is so I can “assortorate” them (as my friend Walt says) into a prioritized list.

NOW, before you read any further, please make your own list. Three, four, five – it doesn’t matter. What aromas, smells, scents bring back your past?

 And I believe that the beginning of September is a really good time to do this. Perhaps, it is something about the new school year, seasonal sports, and holidays looming. Labor Day is done; the leaves are beginning to fall, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and then a NEW YEAR.

And I found another pithy saying - from Nabokov (of Lolita fame and some really mad, chilling stories I read in college): “Nothing revives the past so completely as a smell that was once associated with it.” I am surprised it is from Nabokov, but I like it!

Have you made your list? Are any of your favorite’s smells on my list, too? We’d love to hear your lists. Post them on Facebook or email us!

Savvy Glenne’s Nostalgic Smells

1. Freshly mowed grass

2. Bacon sizzling and coffee brewing when I wake up

3. Line-dried sheets (one of my chores was to fold the sheets off the line!)

4. Movie popcorn (smells better than it tastes actually)

5. Gardenias (so fragile, so lovely)

6. Vanilla (for baking, for candles….)



7. Chocolate - dark (thinking fudge, truffles, and cake icing here!)


8. Cinnamon (did you ever eat cinnamon toast?)

9. Swimming pools (chlorine?)

10. Real Christmas trees

11. New Cars (one can now buy new car spray)

12. Sunscreen/lotion that smells like coconut

13. Lemon furniture polish

14. Cold, clear nights with snow on the ground (something about purity)

15. Gasoline and diesel fumes (I know you think I am crazy, but this smells like NYC)

16. Fresh paint

17. Old leather (books, jackets, furniture, in a horse barn)


18. Frying Vidalia onions (only sweet Vidalias) –[too cute not to share]

19. Old Spice (my grandfather)


 20. Johnson’s Baby Powder

21. Chanel #5 (my favorite for 50 years)

Hope you, too, took a trip down memory lane for a little while. 

Glenne           

161 Forever floods

Houston 2017

Forever floods

Memories of floods may fade but they never go away. Watching the news of Hurricane Harvey in Texas brought tears to my eyes and a virtual deluge of emotions from the past. As a youngster and teenager, the annual spring rains were usually followed by floods.

There are so many facets of the experiences that no one person can start to report all that happens. The anticipation, the rains, the rising of the water, the water creeping through the streets, and then up the steps into the house are images and feeling that will never leave.

Plus, the cleanup and rebuilding stays with the families for months and sometimes years and really never goes away in your thoughts. By that time, the reporters and photographers are gone, and most of the country and state have forgotten about the devastation.

The last big flood when I lived in the deep mountains of Logan County West Virginia took place in March of 1963. There were floods almost every year in the low-lying areas of the coal mining territory. The reach of the flooding would depend on the amount of snow that winter and how constant the spring rains filled the creeks, streets, and ultimately the Guyandotte River.

A dam to hold back the flood waters had been debated and planned for years but had not been constructed at that time. Very few people were spared the ravages of the torrential downfall that year --- you had to live on the hills rather than in the valley to be lucky enough to escape the devastation.

We had survived many years of flooding --- maybe a few inches or feet in the house. But that year, the rain just wouldn’t stop. The final count was six feet in the house and my dad’s store had well over 16 feet.

I was the oldest at home at that time, and I stayed with my mom at the house – not sure why we stayed. The younger siblings went with neighbors who lived on the hill. As it started to enter the house, those dear friends came back for us, and we left the house – that would be the last day we lived in that house. I grabbed my purse and hair rollers. When I think back, I have no idea why I didn’t take more but maybe I thought we would be back.

It was a long night and the rains persisted, and the water kept rising. The river hadn’t crested at that time so we knew more was yet to come and it did. The military ducks (amphibious vehicles) rolled in to help and agencies such as the Red Cross supplied much-needed necessities.

The store before the flood.
The water got to the top of the windows.

My dad’s grocery store was about a mile down the road in an area that even got more flood water. He was always on the other side of the water so we wouldn’t normally see him for least one day, but it was several days when the 1963 flood hit.

When a grocery store is flooded, nothing can be saved so everything is a total loss. Flood insurance was not even a part of our vocabulary. 

Somehow my dad was one of those people that the news media could find – he made the Associated Press wire shoveling out the debris with his fedora had on his head, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, and a smile on his face. Those who knew him realized it was not a true smile but a smirk that hid the words, (often curse words in both English and Italian) of what he was truly thinking about this horrendous situation.

Also, many people don’t realize that families who often live near each other have little chance to help each other. My aunts and uncles were dealing with their own houses and businesses, but we all tried to assist when we could. My grandparents lived around the corner from us above the first family grocery store, and we would go there for many years until they both passed away. I hate to admit it, but many times it was exciting to be with my cousins as we camped out at my grandparents. 

But the adults didn’t feel that way for sure. The looks on their faces of the unknown of what was happening came through even though they tried to be brave. In those days. there were no cell phone and 24-hour TV so we were truly in the dark about what was happening and when it would all end.

And we were literally in the dark – no electricity for days, no water (there weren’t bottles then), and no stores were open. I remember my mom, aunts, and grandmother filling buckets and other containers with water so when the floods came, we would have fresh water to drink and cook with. They made sure the coal-burning fireplaces were operational, that was how we cooked and heated for as long as necessary.

The cleanup takes days and days and often weeks. We carried all we could find in the mud and muck out of the house to our friends and washed as best as we could. Many items had to be trashed and sent to the dump while others were okay briefly but did not often last very long especially furniture. Wool clothes were a goner as well as appliances. We managed to dry out photos but some were a loss. After a week or so, my dad had had enough and had a crew empty the house and take it all to the dump. 

My family had a standing retort when we would look for something and couldn’t find it – that was before the flood.

My future husband and his family dragged all their belongings they could manage to the second floor. He and his dad stayed in the house until they had to be rescued from the roof by boat. To top it off that was his 17th birthday – not much of a celebration but one he always remembers.

A normal day was not to be had for many months – my mother decided to buy a house on the hill since my dad was still on the other side of the water. We never had to worry about floods in the house again but we always had family and friends to assist.

The dam was finally built and flooding was not as severe or as frequent. No one can adequately put into words what anyone experiences in these catastrophes and natural disasters. Don’t even think the news media comes close to covering it, but I give them credit for trying. It is devastating, emotional, destructive, and any other adjective that denotes a total waste of resources. And on top of it all to add insult to injury, we were rewarded with shots for tetanus and other maladies.

On the positive side, our floods were usually slow moving so the loss of life was not an issue. It was rare that anyone could not be rescued, but occasionally we would lose someone which was even more devastating.

But the human spirit is amazing and survives in most cases and moves on. I send my best thoughts to those in Texas and other areas of the Gulf Coast. It will get better but it will take time and you will never forget.

Frances