Showing posts with label neighborliness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label neighborliness. Show all posts

Friday, November 30, 2018

Full Disclosure: I'm Not a Trend-Setter

Thought for the dayNo man has ever been shot while doing the laundry.




I just came in from hanging a tablecloth on the clothesline. Perfect day for it, too. Wall-to-wall sunshine, and a nice breeze blowing, the kind of day that does a lickety-split job of drying, and leaves everything smelling like the great outdoors. As I hung it, I thought about the tons of clothes I've clipped onto clotheslines over the years...


We lived in a row home when I was a kid, and had a fold-up umbrella type clothesline. In those days, every back yard in the whole congested neighborhood held a clothesline of some sort, and hanging clothes outside wasn't just a necessity; it was a time for bona fide over-the-fence socializing.


I reckon our love affair with computers have changed that scenario quite a bit, eh?




 But anyhow, back then, hanging clothes was a time for gossiping, political opining, recipe swapping, and talking about the latest guest on the Ed Sullivan show. I was a latchkey kid, so most of the time, I was the one out there hanging clothes behind our house, and for some unfathomable reason, the neighbor ladies accepted me as their pint-sized equal.



Now, not all the memories of those times are rosy. Trying to fold frozen clothes with equally frozen fingers wasn't a whole lot of fun.









Wasn't too great when one of our dogs completely shredded everything hanging on the line, or when a flock of mulberry-eating birds selected our humble sheets as a primary bombing target, either. But all-in-all, I remember those days fondly.











The first house Smarticus and I bought boasted a killer clothesline. Big sturdy metal tees with half a dozen long lines stretched between them. (As Tim Allen would say, "R-R-R-R!") The thing was, it was a pretty big yard, so there was never any socializing over the fence while hanging clothes. Then, most everybody got clothes dryers, so it became a rarity to even see anybody outside with a wet basket of laundry.

When we moved here to the sunny South, there were no clothesline to be seen in our neighborhood at all. Zip, zilch, nada. I reckon it was considered "common" or "old-fashioned" to hang clothes on the line in 1971. Anybody who was anybody had the latest, greatest clothes dryer by then. Even me. But I also had a clothesline in the back yard. Something big enough to hang sheets, because, really, is there anything that smells as wonderful as bedclothes filled with the smell of sunshine? Alas, in time, I, too, grew weary of hanging clothes. It's too bloody hot here in the summertime. And well, yeah, a dryer really is convenient.

But I still have ONE line strung out back, and always will. And when I was out there hanging that tablecloth this morning, lo and behold, the man who lives behind us was hanging something on a line in his yard, too! He's a new neighbor, and it's a brand new line. And get this: we exchanged greetings. It wasn't exactly heavy-duty socializing like days of yore, but it sure felt good. And I've noticed that some of the young families moving into our neighborhood are putting up clotheslines, too. Going green, they say. But I say, what's old is new again.



Like lots of other things. Our daughter used to tease me unmercifully because of some of the clothes I wore. Like clam diggers. In fact, she teased me so much, I finally got rid of them. And wouldn't ya know, they're all the rage now. They call 'em capri pants these days, but as far as I'm concerned, they're just good old clam diggers with a fancy name and attitude. So in years to come, if you should happen to see me sporting a suddenly popular pair of bell bottom pants, it won't be because I'm a trend-setter. It'll be because I never got rid of my old ones. And if red patent leather platform shoes ever come back into style, I'm all set. And (shhh) just between you and me, I'm never giving up my slouch socks.

Hmmmm, maybe I should teach my granddaughters how to play jacks. We could be starting a new trend ...


How about you? Are some of the "old things" from your past becoming new again? (Face lifts don't count!)

Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other. Think I'll go pull out my old bag of balls and jacks. My skills could use a little brushing up.







P.S. Hanukkah, an eight-day festival celebrating the triumph of light over darkness, of purity over adulteration, and spirituality over materialism, begins this weekend. To all who are Jewish, I wish you a very happy Hanukkah. For the rest of us, I believe we, too, should embrace the ideals of light over darkness.

If you're gonna be lighting a menorah, I bet you won't be doing it quite like THIS:
         



Friday, October 14, 2016

Only in Canada, Eh?

Thought for the day:  In any world menu, Canada must be considered the vichyssoise of nations — it's cold, half-French, and difficult to stir. [J.Stuart Keate]

In January about twenty years ago, I accompanied Smarticus on a business trip to the St. Pete area in Florida. The weather was unexpectedly chilly and breezy, so much so that I put on long pants and a jacket before taking a walk. I came across a group of people splashing around in the water and sunbathing on the beach in swimsuits.

Yep. You guessed it. They were from Canada. ♥

Americans are benevolently ignorant about Canada, and Canadians are malevolently well informed about the United States. [John Bartlet Brebner]

It's true. We Americans tend to be grossly uninformed when it comes to our sturdy cold-resistant neighbors to the north, while Canada is the most educated country in the world, (More than 50% have college degrees.) so I wouldn't be surprised if more of them know what's happening in our country than our own citizens do. With our presidential election right around the corner, and scores of Americans vowing to migrate to Canada afterwards, I considered it my civic duty to provide some much-needed information before you guys start packing your bags. You know, just so you know a little bit more about Canada than what you learned from watching the movie Strange Brew. So, are ya ready, hosers?

First off, if you're already a lover of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese, or Kraft dinner, as it's known in Canada, you'll fit right in. Why this neon-colored mixture of powdered cheese-like substance is such a hit up there is beyond me, but Canadians consume more of this golden-colored stuff than any other nation in the world... to the tune of like 1.7 million boxes per week. A former Prime Minister even called it his favorite food. Go figure.





As I'm sure you already know, Canada is nuts about hockey. They are also extraordinarily tolerant and polite.

Q: How do you get a Canadian to apologize?
A: Step on his foot. 

Q: How do you get fifty Canadians out of a pool?
A: You say, "Please get out of the pool."

Q: How many Canadians does it take to change a light bulb?
A: None. They don't change light bulbs; they accept them the way they are.



Not my idea of playing on the ocean! [source: Reddit]
Yeah, it gets cold in Canada. Really really cold. The lowest recorded temperature occurred on February 3, 1947, when the mercury dipped to a phenomenal -84.7 degrees F. (-63 C) in Snag,  Yukon.

And believe it or not, in Newfoundland, the Atlantic Ocean sometimes freezes hard enough for residents to play hockey on it!





[morguefile]
You may have heard a little something-something about polar bears. Yep, they've got 'em! Churchill, Manitoba, is the Polar Bear Capital of the World. In this small town of less than 1000 residents, which can allegedly be walked from one end to the other in fifteen minutes flat, it isn't unusual to see as many as sixty bears on any given day. As a matter of safety, residents never lock their car doors, so pedestrians have easy access to them as an escape plan when they run into a bear. (Um, not literally. If they literally ran into one of these behemoths, which can reach ten feet and 1400 pounds, I don't think escape would be a viable option.)

[wikipedia- credit: Andrew Enns]
Would you believe more than 50% of the world's natural lakes are located in Canada? British Columbia's Lake Okanagan, as shown in the picture, contains Canada's counterpart to Scotland's Nessie... and his name is Ogopogo. 

With all of those lakes and forests, there's lots of wide open spaces and parks to enjoy. The Wood Buffalo National Park in Alberta is larger than the entire country of Switzerland. But even though Canada is the second-largest country in the world, the population is smaller than that of Tokyo's metro area. so there's plenty of elbow room to handle the influx of American cousins.

[wikipedia]
The Canadian/ U.S. border is the longest international border in the world, and it isn't under military guard. The words written above this Peace Arch at the crossing between Surrey, British Columbia and Blaine, Washington, says, Brethren dwelling together in unity. Not too surprising for a country that has had no weapons of mass destruction since 1984, and has signed multiple treaties repudiating their possession.

But don't let that fool you. Yes, they are a peace-loving people, but after the bombing of Pearl Harbor, Canada actually declared war on Japan a day before the United States did.

[morguefile]



No, you aren't mistaken. That is the Eiffel Tower, and it's still in Paris, where it's always been. But did you know it almost moved to Canada in 1967? When the tower was originally built in 1889 as part of the Paris Expo, the permit only granted rights for the tower to remain there for twenty years, after which time it was either to be dismantled or moved. When the permit expired, the powers that be wisely recognized what an important fixture the tower had become, so the decision was made to keep it in place.

However, Charles DeGaulle made a secret deal with the mayor of Montreal to move the tower to Montreal for its 1967 Expo. The deal went up in smoke when the committee that manages the tower poo-pooed it.



[wikipedia]





How you'll feel about this next tidbit about Canada depends on how you feel about snakes, garter snakes in particular. The Narcisse Snake Dens, located about 130 km north of Winnipeg, is the garter snake capital of the world. I'm talking tens of thousands of them in a fairly small area. From about mid-April to early May, visitors can watch these snakes in all of their writhing glory, as they crawl all over each other and search for a mate, or whatever else it is that snakes might do. The viewing platforms allow people to watch from afar. But I'm gonna allow you to watch from reeeeeally afar. In this video...


I know they're harmless, but seeing that many of them in one place is creepy. So let's look at something that's more uplifting. The world's first UFO Landing Pad...

[wikipedia- credit: Heterodyne]
And here it is. It was built in St. Paul, Alberta, as one of the country's Centennial Projects in 1967. There are two engraved markers there, one of which essentially declares the place to belong to the international community. The wording on that one is very nice, but the wording on the other plaque is outstanding:

As mankind stands on the threshold of inter galactic travel, let us not forget our failures on earth. 
If we are to become voyageurs of space, we must learn the true meaning of tolerance to others that are different from us.
We must remember that no matter how large the universe, the smallest creature has its place in the order of life. 
If we fail to conquer disease and pestilence on earth, but instead transmit them to other planets, we shall never be welcome.
If we fail to travel earth without destroying the environment, how shall we ever travel the universe safely.
If we cannot develop international goodwill among all men, how shall we ever develop inter galactic goodwill among all beings.
Lastly, if mankind travels this earth or universe armed with kindness, tolerance, hope and good spirits, he will always be welcomed. [ANON]

Quite a statement, eh?

[wikipedia]
SNOLAB is located in Sudbury, Ontario, and this is a picture of the part of it that's above ground The actual labs, the deepest clean labs in the world, are located in a mine about a mile underground. The extreme depth allows the secret experiments with neutrinos and dark matter (very deep subjects!) to be conducted away from environmental interference.


Okay, check out the object in this picture. What do you think it is? It kinda looks like a funny-shaped hunk of pepperoni, doesn't it?

Well, it's actually a... toe. Yes, a toe. A mummified human toe, dehydrated and preserved in salt, to be exact. It happens to be the key ingredient to making a Sour Toe Cocktail. In Dawson City, Yukon, all you have to do to become a member of the Sour Toe Cocktail Club is finish a drink (of anything!) with a real human toe like this in the bottom of the glass. The club's motto is You can drink it fast, you can drink it slow — but the lips have gotta touch the toe. And they do mean touch. There's a 500-dollar fine for swallowing the toe. (Believe it or not, some have had to  pay that fine...) Wanta see more? (Of course you do!)



All in all, I'd say the folks north of the border are a lot like us. They like to have fun, and there's lots of beautiful places all over the country for them to have it in. And lots of different flavors of fun that don't involve petrified toes. Like the spiffy bathtub races held on Vancouver Island every year.

 Hey! If you're still ready to get away from U.S. politics, and you'd like to drop some weight in the bargain, you might consider moving to the (c-c-c-cold) northern part of Canada, where there is unusually low gravity. Discovered in the '60s, there are several theories as to why gravity is lower there, but the important thing is that it IS. Talk about an easy peasy way to lose weight, eh? Unfortunately, it won't be enough to help you meet that new year's resolution you made. Only about one tenth of an ounce per every 150 pounds. (sigh)

Bottom line, Canada is a gorgeous country, and Canadians are awesome people. Tolerant, polite, smart, and fun-loving. Matter of fact, as comedian John Wing, Jr. said, A Canadian is merely an unarmed American with health care.  Ya know, in spite of the political chaos here, I'm perfectly happy living where I am, but I'm also happy to have met so many wonderful Canadians in the blogosphere. It was also fun to learn a teensy bit about their country. Who knows? Maybe Smarticus and I can vacation up that-a-way someday. (In the summer!)



                                Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

THE END

Friday, April 15, 2011

Won't You Be My Neighbor?

Thought for the dayA baby is God's way of saying the world should go on.

Today's thought for the day comes from a picture that once belonged to my mother, and is now hanging on the wall behind me. One year ago today, our youngest grandson entered the world, and two days later, my father left it. As we went through the ordeal of cleaning out my parents' house, this old dime store picture that was hanging on their kitchen wall helped me put things into perspective.

Life goes on. And it is good.

I never expected to miss my father. He was an extremely difficult man, to say the least, and became even more difficult after my mother died in '96. But, to my surprise, I do miss him. Time has a way of softening the dark memories, allowing the good ones to shine through. For that, I am grateful.




Whatever happened to good neighbors?


 Yesterday, we had an unexpected visitor. Her name sounds like Pow-ee, although I have no idea as to the correct spelling of it, and she's my age or maybe a little older, and is originally from Taipei, Taiwan. She's lived several streets away from us for almost twenty years, and although we've seen her walking in the neighborhood a few times and always waved and smiled at her, this was the first time we actually met her. 
My husband was on the side of house chopping wood when this tiny little bit of a woman, less than five feet tall, came into the yard yelling, "Helloooo."  She was wearing a long duster-type coat, or at least, it was long on her. Very long. She was looking for some help finding an address that was written on a piece of paper. There was also a phone number on the paper, so my husband told her to come on into the house, and we could call the number.

Pow-ee visited with us for almost an hour. She's quite the chatterbox, and even though her English is a little broken, we enjoyed talking with her. She was really fired up over the strange lack of neighborliness in this country, although she didn't put it in quite those words. She said she just doesn't get it. Says where she comes from, neighbors are like family, and will do anything they can to help each other. Then she told us about a couple who live next door to her now. How they'd asked her to call a taxi for them, and she gave them a ride instead. She gave the woman a ride to work, and would've been willing to do so every day, because, after all, they're neighbors.

But the next day, that woman passed her by with no acknowledgement. Didn't look at her. Didn't say hello, didn't wave, nothing. As though she didn't know her at all. Pow-ee doesn't understand how anyone could treat her this way. Neither do I.

She spoke of another neighbor who's ignored her request that he not plant trees on the edge of her property. Even after the police got involved, this neighbor continues to thumb his nose at her and does whatever he wants, without regard or respect for her. She doesn't get it. Says where she came from, the elderly are always respected.

Is she right? Have Americans forgotten how to treat each other? Yesterday, Grammy got on her soap box in an  "L is for lunacy" rant about the lack of civility and empathy in today's young people. Is the disconnect between neighbors just another manifestation of that? Or do some of us still know how to truly be a good neighbor? I certainly hope so.

Our new friend came back to visit today. She didn't stay as long this time, but she came to bring us several bags of Oriental treats. After all, she said, we're neighbors. She says we're "her kind of people." I think I like that. And I think I'll bake her some chocolate chip cookies this weekend. After all, we are neighbors.

+++

When I was a kid, there was a small farm not far from our house, and behind the tiny barn was a small mountain of mule manure. Some of us kids thought that was a great place to play king of the mountain. My mother was never impressed with my aroma when I returned home from one of those ventures, but my father claimed to love the smell of manure. Said it was "good luck", and a "walk through the tulips." If he were still here, I would've had to buy him one of the products I'm about to tell you about in this week's weirdest news story. He would've loved it.

See y'all on Monday. Until then, take care of yourselves. And each other.



What's that smell?


Weirdest news story of the week:  You're gonna get a three-fer this week. The first story was one I passed over last week, but decided to bundle it with two others I found this week, for a genuine bovine trifecta. In the first story, a young German girl wanted a horse, just like almost every girl dreams about at one time or another, right? But when this young girl was denied the horse of her dreams, she settled for the cow her family already owned. Not only does this young lady saddle and ride that cow, but she's even trained it to jump hurdles. The locals have gotten used to the strange sight of this young girl trotting the countryside on her cow, but it seems that her parents are now considering getting her that horse she wanted. In the second cow story, a couple tried to board a plane at JFK airport this week with a dead cow in tow. The carcass was neatly wrapped, but the staff denied this couple their odd request. (TSA never said anything about dead cows!) And now for the third story, and my personal favorite. A German company has recently come up with a new product that's scored a financial home run for them. Called "Countryside Air to Go", it's a can filled with "the air sucked out of an aging wooden stable, straw-lined and filled with gas-producing cattle." As the company's ad says, "Simply put your nose to the tin and peel back for the authentic smell of the country." That's right. It bears the distinctive aroma of cow farts. Evidently, former country-dwellers who've had to move to the big city miss the ol' scent of home and have been forking over five pounds a pop for the pleasure of snuffling up the pungent aroma. Know anybody you'd like to grace with this unusual gift? Check it out at http://www.stallduft.de/  Oh, and word has it that the company is planning to add products bearing the smells of horses, pigs, straw, and manure. My father would've loved it.