Happy Halloween

It’s kind of sad that celebrating Halloween is taboo in school these days, at least in St. Marys. I know that sometimes kids get to dress up as their favorite book character or what they want to be when they grow up but that isn't nearly as much fun as it used to be when you could be a ghost, vampire, pirate, or princess. Today you can have a fall festival and harvest type decorations but Halloween decorations per se are strictly taboo. Not so though when I was teaching 2^nd grade in October of 1986. We all looked forward to dressing up and going from room to room all over the school in the Halloween Parade. I had decorated my classroom in a Halloween/October theme with numbered jack-o-lanterns and ghosts on my calendar and a bulletin board type picture on my door of a green faced witch sitting at her dressing table putting on her ugly powder as her black cat looked on. As I greeted my second graders at our door, I jokingly told them that it was a picture of me getting ready every morning before coming to school. I pointed to the long hair on the witch and then my own long hair in a ponytail as proof. I didn't think much more about it as we entered the classroom and got busy with our lessons (We were going Batty for Books!). I did, however, notice one student, Reuben, give the picture careful consideration every time he entered or exited the room. (Back and forth from P.E., lunch, restroom breaks etc.) At the end of the day Reuben was the last child to go out the classroom door and he stopped by the picture once again. He looked at the witch and then back at me and said conspiratorially, “Ms. Mount, I know that’s not you.”

I raised my eyebrows and leaned toward him giving him permission to let me in on this and said, “Oh really, Reuben? How can you tell?”

He paused for a minute giving me one last careful look before he said, “It can’t be you, Ms. Mount, cuz you ain't got a cat!” Then he gave me a quick hug and took off with the rest of the bikers and walkers.

Happy Halloween!

Tweeting and Crowing-Political Fowls

I've been reading a couple of blogs, some written by the undecided, and some written by others, many who are choosing not to vote. I see where you are coming from and despite the fact that you have a myriad of reasons for not voting, I am not buying any of them. I am not even going to waste time refuting your arguments. The bottom line is it is the duty and right of every citizen age 18 and older to vote. Who and what you vote for is your business, so get down to business and vote. (I can’t believe I’m quoting this because I really hated it when my boss used it during a faculty meeting but here goes.) "If you're not part of the solution, you're part of the problem." In other words regardless of your arguments about the futility of voting, the size of the government, the direction in which our country is going, whose vote cancels out whose, the electoral college, left over resentment from hanging chads, gridlock,  your vote does count and no change occurs when you sit passively doing nothing. Let’s take back our country and let our voices be heard, vote.

Off the soap box now…I am also sick and tired of the political ads (Fowls!) on TV. So much fact checking and so little time and what’s the difference between fact checking and spin? I've tried flipping channels when the ads come on but sometimes even that doesn't help. The ads are everywhere. I've tried getting out of the house but the ads are relentless outside too, on billboards, bumpers, and lawns. My solution was early voting (yesterday) and now that I've made up my mind and cast my ballot I don’t have to listen anymore. So this is what I do whenever political ads come on the TV, I close my eyes and stick my fingers in my ears. And yep, if the volume is so loud that I can still hear it I say “La, la, la,” really loud until it’s over. However well this political ad avoidance technique works for you while watching television (and it works for me since I don’t DVR or Netflix), just remember it works best for political ads on TV, I don’t recommend you try it while jogging or driving.

Tough Nut to Crack! (But it did and now there’s a tree growing!)

Not only is Andros Island, Bahamas a place where they say May We Be Strangers No More, it is also a place with some tough nuts, coconuts! My husband (current resident of Blue Door 711) inherited a few when he moved in over there. They (the coconuts) were in a ring around the small ornamental tree outside his door. I suspect the original reason for putting them there (by a previous 711 resident) was to protect the little tree from the mowers and also for aesthetic reasons. Most of my husband’s neighbors have rings of rock, coral, conk shells, or driftwood around theirs.  Although not as fancy, at least the unhusked coconuts had weathered to a nice shade of gray that didn't look too bad but obviously pointed to the fact that they’d been there for quite some time.  Then one day we spotted what looked like a sharp green spear shooting up from one of the coconuts. It was the first many leaf (fronds) that have followed one after another. We put our (not so) tough nut into a pot (with only the bottom half covered in soil) parked right outside our door where it can happily commune with the other tough nuts while it waits for them to crack. (My husband keeps telling them jokes, but all he’s managed to do is crack himself up!) Actually, under ideal conditions, it can take anywhere from 3 to 6 months for a coconut to germinate. Our little coconut palm can remain in the same pot for 5 years and grow to be 5 feet tall, tall enough to have a trunk.  And live happily (and ideally on Andros) ever after!

Zombies!

Vampires are out and Zombies are in. You know the undead, reanimated corpses, and mindless human beings. As a matter of fact, I thought I saw one out of the corner of my eye in my very own living room! (Maybe I should call it the unliving room.) But when I looked closer it was just my “before coffee” reflection in the mirror above the loveseat. Believe me when I tell you I now know what Zombie hair looks like and it’s pretty scary, (unless you are a bald Zombie). If Zombies weren't cannibals I’d even consider getting a couple to help with housework and the grandkids’ homework.  But seriously, there are Zombie fun runs where you can be chased by Zombies or if you wish you can be a Zombie and chase the non-Zombie runners. Here in St. Marys you can creep or lurch to the cemetery and listen to tales of local hauntings. For this tour they are calling all local Zombies to meet at the St. Marys Welcome Center at 6 PM! Then there’s 95FM’s Gravedigger’s Ball. Guess what they’re digging up…Zombies! There are even all kinds of Zombie costumes for young kids, even kindergartners  And you know Halloween is just around the corner. Wouldn't one of your little ones (or a little one you know) make a cute sock monkey Zombie? Too bad it is considered uncool for someone my age (over 12) to trick or treat because it's fun acting like a Zombie and as far as pulling together the Zombie look, well I wouldn't have to work that hard.

Baby, Whale Sex Revealed!

Not another sex tape! was the first thought that came to my mind when I saw this headline on MSN. Haven’t there been enough of revelations about celebrity sex tapes in the news, not to mention the teen trend phone sexting! Then my eyes jumped to another headline about the growing obesity problem in our country and I made the leap to, What if that’s what they’re talking about! Isn't it enough to have “whale” sex going on in the privacy of these problem people’s homes…Why would they want to reveal that?(Even if they are having a whale of a good time.)

But wait…Was that comma after Baby just a smudge on my computer screen? It was! So then I started wondering if the hormones from chickens had gotten into the ocean and caused baby whales to reach early puberty. Baby Whale Sex Revealed! Just the thought of that made my mind go blank (sort of like my mouth falling open and nothing coming out of it). After all I had just spotted another headline about how boys were reaching puberty at earlier ages like girls here in the U.S. and whales are mammals too…

Then I read the article. Congratulations to Mommy Beluga at the Shedd Aquarium in Chicago, it’s a girl!

Which pets are more affordable, cats or dogs? (or why I’m sticking with fish!)

As I was checking out the headlines online I came across this one about pet affordability. I guessed correctly that dogs are more expensive to keep but surprisingly not by much. Both dogs and cats cost on average more than a thousand dollars per year to maintain. I guess the researcher didn't deduct the price of kitty litter since he probably didn't know my cat does his business exclusively outside. The other good thing about my cat is his ability to find his own food but that’s for another blog post. What I really wonder is why they didn't include fish in the comparison? Fish are inexpensive to purchase and if you don’t want to spend any money you can find “used” fish for free. If no one you know is giving their fish away you can go the wild fish route. For this all you need is a good rain, standing water in the ditch, and a grand kid with a net. Chances are though if upon close observation the ditch fish start to grow little legs they may not be fish at all!  But back to fish, some fish live happily in a bowl, my current pet is in a pickle jar, (How’s that for cheap?) and without a bubbler or filter and they don’t run up your power bill. Fish life spans are shorter than those of dogs and cats so that shortens your commitment to their care. Fish food is relatively inexpensive. One small container of fish food has lasted me through several fish, so food, for me at least, has been a onetime purchase. And another thing, fish are nice to watch and you never have to get them out a tree or take them for a walk. But be warned about teaching fish tricks. I had a fish that liked to jump for a little smidgen of liver sausage and I took great pleasure in showing off his fascinating penchant for table food until one morning I found him dried up on the floor beside his watery abode. Thank goodness my pickle jar fish is not a jumper!   

Feeling Crabby?

I have, since my better half returned to the Bahamas, and I started thinking crabby thoughts! Where do Andros Island, Bahamas’ land crabs that seem to only come out at night go during the day? They go into holes, and seal themselves in with soft mud to make their burrows air tight. The burrows can be up to a meter in depth to reach the water table where they immerse themselves in water and keep their gills wet. The crabs that have molted emerge from their burrows larger than when they went in. There can be up to a thousand burrows on each acre of uninhabited land. Andros has the largest free roaming population of land crabs in the Bahamas and a large area on central Andros has been set aside as Land Crab National Park.

Why do the land crabs cross the road? (No, they aren't thrill seekers looking for claws calls.) Land crabs mature when they're 4 years old and they cross the road (if a road comes between the mangroves and the beach) when they migrate by the light of the full moon from the forest to the sea to carry their eggs to the ocean where they turn them loose. The eggs drift with the surf, ending up in marshes and mangrove swamps where they finally hatch and begin the metamorphosis that starts the cycle again. Yep, that’s it! Time for me to crab out! 

Strange Monkey

St. Petersburg, Florida lives up to its saying, Be Prepared to Be Pleasantly Surprised, most of the time. But for the last 2 years a rogue rhesus macaque, believed to be a loner that was run off from the rest of his colony in Silver Springs, has been on the loose. He has been sighted and photographed many times just monkeying around but has to date continued to elude capture. The elusive primate has his own Face Book page and following. Up until recently he has been a peaceful, albeit mysterious resident of the Tampa Bay area, finding an occasional banana a-peeling while giving would be captors the slip. Recently one St. Pete resident received an unpleasant surprise; she was bitten not once but twice by the rogue rhesus and now some are saying this was just what they predicted would happen and is often a result when a wild monkey (some say with a chimp on his shoulder) is being fed by trusting humans. Face Book friends are hopeful that the monkey can be captured safely and have found another trapper who plans to lure the rogue with another rhesus macaque and some fresh fruit. He says he has had success trapping chickens and roosters this way. I just hope they can find a peaceful solution and end this strange monkey business before I go back to St. Pete to visit my grandsons. Between you and me, I've entertained speculation that Jude and Shane might be part monkey too….on their fathers’ sides! 

The Gloves Are Off!

My fingers are on fire! And no, not from typing my political debate views on Face Book. (Although I will admit I am typing as I watch so I can post this early tomorrow morning.) One would think I would have learned my lesson last year. But oh how quickly I forgot and now my fingers are burning once again. This is the time of year when I get canning cravings. 14 jars of pepper jelly this afternoon with the last of the garden’s peppers (a break from the 20 jars of persimmon jam I put up the day before) have my fingers on fire. And yes, once again I read the part of the directions from inside the Sure Jell box that said wear gloves when seeding and chopping jalapeno peppers. I didn't wear any last year either and obviously I didn't learn my lesson then because my fingers are burning all over again. Pepper jelly is worth it though because the sweet/hot flavors, though contrasting, are perfect compliments. This jelly makes a great meat glaze, tastes wonderful with cream cheese on crackers, and is delicious on ice cream! And it is beautiful to behold with the red and green pieces of bell peppers and jalapenos suspended in the translucent jelly. At least it looked that way before I rubbed my eyes. Now I can barely see what I’m typing because my eyes are burning and watering…. Next time I’ll wear the gloves!   

Highway Haiku

Been traveling a lot lately and the other day we found ourselves behind a big rig with the words High Cube on the back of it. So I read aloud, “High Cube.” My husband replied in a somewhat puzzled voice, “Haiku?” Thus the inspiration for this blog’s free form Haiku.....

 (First one’s mine)

High Cubes.....Towering, tottering, traveling down.....Highways.

 (Bob’s-my 13 year old backseat driver-gotta love this!) 

As I drove.....I noticed a flashing sign,..... please slow down.

(My Hub’s)

Together....On a road that stretches endlessly on.....Time flies, bye!

How Do You Roll?

I know how my 4 and 5 year old grandsons will roll, with what I predict will be one of the top toy picks of the holiday shopping season, Hot Wheels Ballistiks! Here is what I like about them, they don’t require batteries (low tech in my book is a plus), and they have 3 things that I know appeal to boys: they launch (like Bey Blades), break out of a ball shape (like Bakugan), and turn into cars (instead those Bakugan thingies)! The upside for cleanup time is that the shooter itself has storage space for 6 Ballistiks (in case you don’t want to collect all 24). The shooter comes with one Ballistik ball/car and is priced at $17.99 at Target. The additional ball/cars (including a Batman Ballistik) cost $6.99 each. And there is the nostalgia factor for me with Hot Wheels, I remember my twin brother’s collection rivaled my Barbie collection; he loved his Hot Wheels so. I remember buying Hot Wheels for my own boys for good behavior, stocking stuffers, and miles of fun. I also remember stepping on quite a few and one that didn't flush but that’s for a different blog all together. I’m not letting the holidays sneak up on me this year. That’s just how I roll!

tbh...(for non-millenials –to be honest)

Back in St. Petersburg, Florida I had forgotten to Be Prepared To Be Pleasantly Surprised, but I was… pleasantly surprised that is. My husband and I were at Target killing time (spending money) and getting necessities from a list he’d brought, to box up to send to himself in the Bahamas, before the kids got off work and brought the grand kids to their homes for us to visit. We already had the mouthwash in the cart. We were all the way in the back of the store in the Men’s Department looking for jeans and munching popcorn when a voice came over the store intercom announcing that a blue Dodge Journey with Georgia plates was in the parking lot with a door open. My husband was already heading toward the fitting room when I asked him if he’d heard that announcement. He said, “Huh?” He only caught the tail end of it and asked if it was our car. I told him I figured ours was probably the only blue Dodge Journey in the parking lot with Georgia tags. He then said, “Dang Skippy,” and handed me the keys with a guilty shake of his head. I took off for the front of the store leaving him with the cart. 

When we parked the car we opened three doors, mine, the passenger front, his, the driver side front, and the door behind the driver side to retrieve the list. He held up the keys and I pushed the lock button (this is a little ritual we do to avoid locking the keys in the car). I had left my Kindle Fire on the front seat and my husband had his and a bunch of important papers (including his passport) in a messenger bag in the backseat. Those were the two things I’d hoped hadn't gone missing. When I reached the car my door was closed (but not enough to lock) so it was obvious who left which door open, much to my surprise (and not the pleasant surprise either because I was sure my husband was the forgetful culprit in this caper). I took a quick peek to assess the car’s contents and saw that all was in fact just as we had left it. Even the stuff of obvious value left out in the obvious was undisturbed. That was the pleasant surprise that I had forgotten to be prepared for. Some other shopper had seen the car left open, looked but didn't take anything, closed my door, leaving it open a crack in case I’d left keys in it, and reported the situation to customer service. 

Relieved I returned to the store, stopping at customer service to say thank you, before heading back to the Men’s Department. I gave my husband thumbs up as he came out of the fitting room and I could see the relief on his face. The jeans were a good fit too.  When I told him nothing was taken from the car he said, “Whew! It was my door wasn't it?” That’s when I lied and said, “Yep, but all’s well that ends well.” I am feeling a little guilty about the lie but my husband also says he reads my blog and I will feel guiltier if he reads this and leaves a comment. That’s how I’ll know that he’s not lying! (And you faithful blog reader will too!)

A Boston Scream in Waldo Florida!

So yesterday my travels south took me through Waldo, but not exactly straight through as I’d anticipated. Waldo is a notorious, Florida speed trap town. There are yellow strips across the tops of every speed limit sign informing drivers that speed limits are “Strictly Enforced!”(I am paraphrasing here by adding the exclamation point for emphasis). Maybe if the signs had exclamation points I would have paid more attention.

Add to that the speed limits go up and down (it seems like) every 30 feet so I’d need the ability to decelerate like Felix Baumgartner without a parachute in order to stay within them. Go figure!

A moving violation was the downside of the trip and a Boston Scream (the upside) was the result. Before you jump to conclusions, I am not from Boston and I didn't scream at the officer that (ex)cited me for speeding.  As I pulled my car over, I reviewed my strategies. My plan A, in this situation, weak attempts at humor and plan B, looking plainly pitiful, didn't get me out of the ticket. But I did get pulled over into the Dunkin’ Donuts parking lot, hence the upside of the stop, a delicious Boston Scream. I figured I deserved a sympathy sweet. The Boston Scream is Dunkin’ Donuts seasonal take on my favorite Boston Kreme filled chocolate-covered treat. Maybe next time I go through Waldo I’ll be prepared with plan C, a Boston Scream, in case I get stopped so I can fork over a different kind of dough. That’ll be the ticket! 

 Squash Old Breakfast Habits with Spaghetti Squash!

Yes, you are reading the title of this post correctly, spaghetti squash for breakfast! If you've ever eaten left over pizza for breakfast, (Who hasn't?) then perhaps you can relate.

First some background information: Wednesday nights are Spaghetti Nights at our house. No one has to ask, “What’s for dinner?” because basically it is a given and as long as your sinuses aren't acting up you can smell it when you walk in the door. There are occasional variations in the menu but they are generally pasta related, i.e. lasagna, chicken tetrazzini, homemade ravioli, stuffed shells, etc. One other thing that makes Wednesdays fun at our house is that you never know who will show up for dinner but that’s another story. But back to spaghetti squash…I was looking for gluten free and a less carb-y addition to the Wednesday night menu and I came across the idea of using spaghetti squash. I just cut it, take out the seeds, microwave it, and scrape out the stringy noodle like goodness and it’s done. I love it with butter and cheese, or spaghetti sauce with meatballs right out of the crock pot, or best yet with my favorite guilty pleasure, Mae Ploy’s Sweet Chilli Sauce. However it isn't the most popular dish on our menu (especially with the grandkids) no matter what I put on it. Maybe it is an acquired taste. That could be why there is usually left over spaghetti squash.

And that left over squash leads me to the purpose of this post! This morning (after copious amounts of coffee) I was searching in the fridge for something to jazz up my usual breakfast of one egg over easy and there it was, about three quarters of cup of leftover cooked spaghetti squash. My sister’s boyfriend suggested it might go well with breakfast at dinner last night when I was trying unsuccessfully to pawn off the last of the squash on him and I decided to give it a try.  As I was frying it up with some chopped onions, it almost looked a bit like hash browns. I filed that thought away under add some left over spaghetti squash to hash browns next time and wondered if it would taste like hash browns. Then I wondered if I had any shredded cheddar  because I love me some shred/ched on my hash browns (and I thought breakfast always tastes better with melted cheese on it anyway so why not put it on the squash), but alas there wasn't any in the fridge so today’s egg would have to be cheeseless. And it was, nestled nicely in a nest of perfectly browned onions and spaghetti squash topped with sea salt and pepper. I was going to take a picture but I didn't want to risk it getting cold while I dug around for my cell phone so I just ate it and it was delicious. Maybe I’ll post a picture next Thursday…

Crossing that Bridge

We cross lots of bridges (and probably burn a few too) in our lifetimes but crossing nine miles over Tampa Bay on the Howard Franklin on my way to St. Pete is one of my favorites.  Be Prepared To Be Pleasantly Surprised, is the saying purported on St. Petersburg’s city website and I am. I roll my windows down no matter what the weather (except driving rain) and breathe in the salty sea air (and if the traffic is backed up some good old exhaust fumes too). I let the wind tangle my hair. I turn the radio up loud. I look for dolphins (yes even when I am driving!) I check out anhinga drying their wings as they perch on the street lamps along with seagulls and an occasional osprey. I watch the pelicans as they seemingly fly effortlessly under the radar parallel to the waters of the bay. No matter what my mood the sights and smells of the bay work magic. Dark and frothy, blue with little white caps or steely smooth like a mirror, just crossing lifts my spirits. If I have a car full of grandkids the magic works on them too. A hush falls over the back seats, ear buds pop out, and they stop asking, “Are we there yet?” The argument over who ate the last Cheetos is forgotten. A single unspoken thought sparks a smile in our hearts. We are crossing the bridge to home. 

Millenials and Education

Millenials…Born between 1980 and 2002, grew up with household computers, plugged in 24-7 with a work ethic described as that of multi-taskers. Millenials buy into the notion that if a person can finish an eight-hour job in four, they should be able to go home early. Many teachers and school age students are millenials. As a retired teacher (not a millenial though) I know eight-hour job days for educators are rare and today’s teachers spend long weekday hours and many a weekend day off writing lesson plans and studying data. Maybe this is one reason it is getting harder to attract qualified millenials to the teaching profession. As for the millenial students, they like all kids of all generations seem to be happy to turn in hurried assignments. Research should be quicker though with so much technology at their fingertips. My granddaughter, like many millenials, can find things fast on her phone. So fast that she can often get an answer before I have my computer booted up. But the computers in our schools are much more outdated than mine. Though there are rules against bringing smart phones (any cell phones- they are all smart aren't they?) to school my millenial grandchildren all do. They are supposed to turn them off but I received a “butt” call from a math class just the other day. Even kindergarteners have phones and they know how to use them. They’re millenials!

Education (in St. Marys, GA)…2012, less and less money for education, shortened school years, no music or technology teachers at the elementary school level, but the same and more state mandated curriculum and common core performance standards for student achievement, less students eligible to ride the bus, and possible privatization of custodial care of school properties. On the surface those multi-tasking millenials that lean toward finishing eight hours of work in four hours should be happy and successful despite the “less-ness” of everything. But it doesn't work that way without a level playing field for all subgroups of students. That’s right I am throwing in the socioeconomic card. In schools here and all over our country kids are struggling and teachers are struggling to meet the needs of our struggling kids. Education hasn't kept up with the millenials. Education isn't even close. There are no easy answers. Each generation is different but there are effective practices that transcend these differences. These are things educators are doing right and that makes all the difference. The expectation that all students can achieve regardless of socioeconomic status is fundamental to our schools’ success. The successes of students in Camden county schools prove it. And reinvesting in the return of the 180 day school year and music and tech teachers at all levels wouldn't hurt either.  

Sew What’s Up with Romney?

Is our country really ready for a new outfit? Political change can challenge the fabric of our nation when we're just getting on the mend. Can we trust the strength of a pattern of government we've never tried on?

The Romney/Ryan ticket doesn't exactly have my confidence sewn up and with all their hemming and hawing over foreign policy during the debates to date. If they are elected, will our allies leave us dangling by a thread? Why won’t they believe the Afghans can cover themselves?

With Romney’s health care changes, are things going to operate better or will people suffer more stitches and more pain? We may need something more than a placebo to cure the ailments of the program he proposes. Does he really believe he can patch all our problems with privatization and vouchers? In other words, can Medicare (and Social Security, for that matter) be mended or will they be infected with more darned bureaucratic baloney?

Can our economy be held together with the Romney/Ryan plan? Their answers during the debates to date were as ambiguous as iron on tape and we all know that iron on tape doesn't hold together too well the more you wash it in hot water. With Romney will unemployment go higher or hire? By refusing to bailout 7up, can Romney really rid our country of "un" employment or just the “un” cola? Will we be job more or job less? Does Romney really know how to make the economy "work" for the people that need it?

And just sew you know, I have not made up my mind yet about who will get my vote! Have you?

Rash Decisions!

This situation began when my youngest grandchild (who happens to be a boy) got a diaper rash and nothing my daughter Nicole tried would clear it up. Because he was a first child for her (tenth grand for me) she got frantic pretty quickly and rather than make any rash decisions, took him straight to the pediatrician. He (the pediatrician that gets credit for this cure was a guy, of course) came up with a simple cure. “Do you have a blow dryer with a cool setting?” he asked? He then instructed her to use the dryer on cool to make sure the “diaper area” was completely dry before applying the ointment he prescribed. The rash was cured in record time but the blow jobs continued. The dryer even got its own place of honor near the changing table with the wipes, the wipe warmer, the lotions, diapers, the diaper pail, and hand sanitizer. Apparently, just the sound of the dryer turning on was enough to immediately silence any crying and still any squirming during diaper changes. This is a nice example, I guess, of when things rub you (or your baby’s bottom) the wrong way sometimes a simple solution is the best way to reach a happy ending!    

Driving that train… in St.Marys, Georgia!

I’ve got a new earworm, the Grateful Dead’s Casey Jones, (I finally got Carly Rae Jepson out of my head, whew!) because today is the highly (not what you Dead Heads were thinking) anticipated St.Marys Railroad Days Celebration.

Because both of my grandfathers were railroad men, I have many fond memories of this wonderful, albeit disappearing piece of Americana. My Grandpa Madigan was a brakeman on the commuter trains in Chicago. My twin and I could always count on him for a train ride to Wrigley Field to cheer on the Cubs on opening day. He never ratted us out to our parents despite the fact that he knew perfectly well we were skipping school and he usually slipped us enough money for a couple of the foot long hot dogs they used to sell on the corner outside the park. My Grandpa Petkus worked for the railroad in Michigan’s U.P. (That’s Upper Peninsula for all non-Yoopers.)When the trains weren’t running he planted trees and cut trees for pulp, just like the logs here that came rolling in to the paper mill via the St.Marys Railroad for many years. He was a quiet man who knew more about trees and plants than anyone I’ve ever known.

And who hasn’t spent at least one Christmas morning watching a model train run ‘round the Christmas tree? But I better get back on track!

Today’s St.Marys Railroad Days celebration runs from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. at Theatre by the Trax and admissions are free. There are exhibits, tours, and rides on small railcars to celebrate 104 years of history and service by the St.Marys Railroad along with live music, food, vendors, and fire clowns. Come out and experience an Escape to yesteryear, and immerse yourself in history, romance, and adventure, St.Marys style. Dang Skippy, a new earworm, It’s always a good time! (Carly Rae Jepson again, she’s back!)

And nope, I won’t be driving that train! But I definitely plan to take a ride on it. See you there!

Columbus discovered… Chickcharney?

If you have the good fortune to find yourself at the beach enjoying Discovery Day (that’s Columbus Day in the Bahamas) today, keep your eyes open for the chickcharney! The chickcharney is a mischievous mythical creature known only to inhabit the Caribbean pine forests on Andros Island, the largest inhabited island in the Bahamas. They live in the tops of the tallest pines and make their nests by joining the tops of two tall pines. Chickcharnies have three fingers, three toes, piercing red eyes, and a tail. Flowers and brightly colored cloth can be used to charm them if you are lucky enough to see one. And seeing a chickcharney can result in a lifetime of good luck… if you show it respect. If you cross a chickcharney, it will turn your head on backwards! I haven’t seen anyone on Andros with their heads on backwards (and I have yet to catch a glimpse of the elusive chickcharney). Thus it is easy for me to conclude that no one on Andros has ever crossed a Chickcharney, at least as far as I can tell! Perhaps this is just one more indicator of the culture of courtesy I've experienced on Andros characterized by the Bahamian saying, May We Be Strangers No More... I have had the good fortune to frequent the beaches on Andros and they are truly beautiful. The direction of the sea breeze is explicit in the slant and sway of the clusters of casuarina trees that grow just beyond the wrack line. The water (it must be what the gemstone aquamarine is named for) is crystal clear. The sound of the surf in all its variations is white noise for the soul, both soothing and freeing simultaneously. The beautiful genteel people and pristine beaches are just two of my favorite Bahamian national treasures. As for the chickcharney, my personal jury is still out. I’ll let you know when I see one!   

Is Hallucinatoric Realism the New Normal?

Hallucinatoric Realism, I just love this term! I found it when reading a press release about this Year’s Nobel Literature Prize winner, Mo Yan of China, and I can’t help pondering over it. For Mo Yan, hallucinatoric realism describes how he merges folk tales, history, and the contemporary in is writing. Maya Deren, an American filmmaker and entrepreneurial promoter of the avant-garde in the 1940’s and 1950’s, describes hallucinatoric realism as a place where reality and subjectivity become indistinguishable. Maybe in today’s political climate hallucinatoric realism should be considered the new normal. Political ads are a good example of hallucinatoric realism. A merging of reality and subjectivity is a great descriptor for attack ads and their rebuttals. I think hallucinatoric realism is a better fit than calling the ads a manipulation of statistics, taking words out of context, or revelations of hidden recordings. A lot has been said about the voting public. And a lot is riding on just what the voting public will believe. Can we all  be victims of hallucinatoric realism? Or just some of us? Which part of the voting population do you think is living in a world of hallucinatoric realism, the 47% or the other 53%?

I also love the idea that Mo Yan gave himself a pen name that means hold your tongue that acted as a reminder for him do just that to keep himself out of trouble. I could probably use a reminder for that myself!