I played and sang at "midnight Mass" last night. Now, unlike the years when I was raising my children, "midnight" is actually 9:00 PM. By midnight, everyone is back home, completing their Christmas celebrations in their own personal traditional ways. So it was that I showed up at the church at 8:00 PM with the idea I would have a few minutes to tune my guitar before the pre-Mass Christmas carols began at 8:30. To my surprise, the church was dark, and locked, permitting entry to nobody who did not hold a key. I thought this strange. Yes, I understand the earlier Mass had ended and those who would be returning for the midnight Mass had taken their opportunity to get a meal, locking up when they left the church. Still, on Christmas, I somehow thought it odd to find the doors locked.
I spent the 15 minutes I had to wait for a key-holder to arrive, chatting with our pianist, who had actually shown up an HOUR before I did, with the expectation of being able to set up his recording equipment to record the music. We had a nice, if cold, chat while we waited. Then it was the usual mad dash to get ready for the start of the caroling and we were underway.
The music was lovely, the service was lovely, and the tree was lovely. The tree, probably 12 feet tall, stood in its annual spot in a place between the alter and the choir. It struck me that this lovely tree, adorned with silver decorations and lit with white lights, was lacking a certain community feel it had always had in the years I was raising my children. I wondered about what had happened to that community tradition that had always presented a most gloriously adorned Christmas tree on Christmas Eve.
Back in those days, the late '80's and the '90's, the last Sunday of Advent a pot-luck, Christmas tree decorating, caroling, prayer session was held each year. Families of the parish would bring with them a home-made ornament with which to adorn the tree. Those attending this evening of preparation would decorate the walls of the church with the Christmas wreaths, prepare the little packets that would be handed out just before New Year's with which the parishioners would bless their homes, and set the food up for the feast we'd enjoy when the decorating and other preparations were complete. And the choir would lead caroling after a short prayer session. At the end of the evening, we'd leave the church, bellies full, hearts happy, and the community Christmas tree attesting to the hundreds of personal traditions that made our community tradition.
It has been three years since I actually was able to participate in Christmas Mass at our church, having been traveling each of those three years. So, I was surprised when I saw the very lovely tree, "decorated" in a very aesthetically pleasing manner... but missing that hodge-podge, that confused jumble of tiny-to-huge, hand-made ornaments, to which I had come accustomed. I suppose all things change. I suppose people have other things to do on that final Sunday of Advent. I suppose it IS just a tree, after all. And it really WAS a lovely tree. I just miss that other one.... those nearly 20 years of other ones....
Merry Christmas to all who happen by my post today. May your Christmas be filled with laughter, music, good food.
Friday, December 25, 2009
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Just an Old Saucepan -- jcarolek
I was in California last week, wrapping up a too short vacation. Somehow the time always flies too quickly when I am away from the normal work grind and this time was no different. I had a lot of good, home cooked food, cooked by someone other than myself, and that is ALWAYS a plus!
My last night there, my friend's mother cooked dinner for everyone and we sat around the table, as always, enjoying the food and the stories of days gone by. One thing I find particularly enjoyable is the amount of time we spend sitting around that round table in the kitchen, savoring 'comfort food' and just talking.
That night one of the stories was about the old saucepan she had used in preparing dinner. She explained that it was a hand-me-down from her now deceased daughter-in-law, her eldest son's wife. The story involved her son using the saucepan to cook something, though I don't recall what, and managing to burn whatever it was, beyond recognition. His wife decided the saucepan was ruined and was going to throw it out. But my friend's mother resurrected it, confident she could return it to functionality.
Sure enough, with a little elbow grease and determination, she returned the saucepan to a usable state. She showed me the bottom of the pan, the copper bottom which is forever marked with the black from the flames of the gas burner. "See," she said, "Brandy had a gas stove."
Later that night, when we were sharing a last cup of tea before heading to bed, I saw that saucepan in the dish rack air drying and something occurred to me. To me, the saucepan looks like a million others -- nondescript, well-used, showing its age while continuing to serve. When she looks at that saucepan she sees much more. She sees a story of a favorite daughter-in-law and a story of her son, and the memory of all that was, that day in the now becoming distant past. To her, that saucepan is every bit as cherished as the photos of those loved ones years ago that fill the walls around the table.
And I suspect the food that is cooked in pans that are so cherished cannot help but taste delicious. Certainly, the food she serves me always is.
Yes, the vacation was far too short, too few opportunities to play and sing, too little time to see everyone, too little time for stories. I look forward to the next opportunity to share time and stories, and eat good food with good people. And I look at old saucepans a little differently.
My last night there, my friend's mother cooked dinner for everyone and we sat around the table, as always, enjoying the food and the stories of days gone by. One thing I find particularly enjoyable is the amount of time we spend sitting around that round table in the kitchen, savoring 'comfort food' and just talking.
That night one of the stories was about the old saucepan she had used in preparing dinner. She explained that it was a hand-me-down from her now deceased daughter-in-law, her eldest son's wife. The story involved her son using the saucepan to cook something, though I don't recall what, and managing to burn whatever it was, beyond recognition. His wife decided the saucepan was ruined and was going to throw it out. But my friend's mother resurrected it, confident she could return it to functionality.
Sure enough, with a little elbow grease and determination, she returned the saucepan to a usable state. She showed me the bottom of the pan, the copper bottom which is forever marked with the black from the flames of the gas burner. "See," she said, "Brandy had a gas stove."
Later that night, when we were sharing a last cup of tea before heading to bed, I saw that saucepan in the dish rack air drying and something occurred to me. To me, the saucepan looks like a million others -- nondescript, well-used, showing its age while continuing to serve. When she looks at that saucepan she sees much more. She sees a story of a favorite daughter-in-law and a story of her son, and the memory of all that was, that day in the now becoming distant past. To her, that saucepan is every bit as cherished as the photos of those loved ones years ago that fill the walls around the table.
And I suspect the food that is cooked in pans that are so cherished cannot help but taste delicious. Certainly, the food she serves me always is.
Yes, the vacation was far too short, too few opportunities to play and sing, too little time to see everyone, too little time for stories. I look forward to the next opportunity to share time and stories, and eat good food with good people. And I look at old saucepans a little differently.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
California Jam -- jcarolek
The trip here was perfect. There were no typical travel snafus and the day that started in Gloucester, Virginia ended in the the wee hours of the next morning in the Yosemite area. I've spent most of my time here simply resting, eating well, and enjoying nature and the good company of friends.
We spent one afternoon getting my friend's mother's sewing machine working again. We had a grand time in the process, laughing and joking, and just as we finished up, the light on the front porch popped on, alerting us to a visitor arriving. We caught this photo of the visitor, before encouraging him to seek other lodgings.
Yesterday we drove to Sacramento for a jam session with more friends. It was an interesting one. There were about twenty of us there, of various backgrounds and native tongues. And we played and sang a variety of music. One of the more interesting aspects of this particular jam session/party was the inclusion of one of the host's family members from eastern Europe. He was not physically at the party, but joined us via the modern conveniences of Skype.
Now this guy, Pete, is a talented violinist. He, in fact, had the opportunity of visiting here in the US a couple of years ago and jamming with this musical "family" in person. So he, now joining us through the laptop perched on the mantle of the fireplace, recognized the violin I was attempting to tune -- the one that needed two of the pegs to be "chalked" so they would quit slipping. I had discovered the slipping pegs while I was here last July, when I first examined the instrument. So, on the way to Sacramento, we'd picked up some chalk and in a few quick minutes, the violin was tuned and holding a tune. And with that the playing began.
There were at least four guitars, a keyboard, an accordion and the violin, as well as the voices, young and old, melding together to create yet another musical memory. I suppose it is true that music is the universal language, but it is also true that when a group of amateur musicians come together to play, there is a certain amount of verbal exchange that occurs. I mean, as we are all playing the familiar songs of those from other cultures, it is necessary for us to know the chords to play. So, a call for chord might go up in English, and the answer returned in Spanish or Czech, or English. Nevertheless, we figured it out. And we had a good time.
We played from around three in the afternoon to nearly midnight, breaking only for food -- a wonderful spread of Mexican food. Finally, because we still had a three hour return trip ahead of us, we wrapped up the instruments and said our goodbye's until next time. We arrived back in the Yosemite area just before 3 AM and spent another hour or so unwinding, before drifting off to bed.
Today was spent mostly sleeping and keeping warm. It has turned pretty cold here, especially at night. Nevertheless, I was able to get a few pictures of the beautiful nature here. I have another few days in this corner of paradise before returning to Virginia.
We spent one afternoon getting my friend's mother's sewing machine working again. We had a grand time in the process, laughing and joking, and just as we finished up, the light on the front porch popped on, alerting us to a visitor arriving. We caught this photo of the visitor, before encouraging him to seek other lodgings.
Yesterday we drove to Sacramento for a jam session with more friends. It was an interesting one. There were about twenty of us there, of various backgrounds and native tongues. And we played and sang a variety of music. One of the more interesting aspects of this particular jam session/party was the inclusion of one of the host's family members from eastern Europe. He was not physically at the party, but joined us via the modern conveniences of Skype.
Now this guy, Pete, is a talented violinist. He, in fact, had the opportunity of visiting here in the US a couple of years ago and jamming with this musical "family" in person. So he, now joining us through the laptop perched on the mantle of the fireplace, recognized the violin I was attempting to tune -- the one that needed two of the pegs to be "chalked" so they would quit slipping. I had discovered the slipping pegs while I was here last July, when I first examined the instrument. So, on the way to Sacramento, we'd picked up some chalk and in a few quick minutes, the violin was tuned and holding a tune. And with that the playing began.
There were at least four guitars, a keyboard, an accordion and the violin, as well as the voices, young and old, melding together to create yet another musical memory. I suppose it is true that music is the universal language, but it is also true that when a group of amateur musicians come together to play, there is a certain amount of verbal exchange that occurs. I mean, as we are all playing the familiar songs of those from other cultures, it is necessary for us to know the chords to play. So, a call for chord might go up in English, and the answer returned in Spanish or Czech, or English. Nevertheless, we figured it out. And we had a good time.
We played from around three in the afternoon to nearly midnight, breaking only for food -- a wonderful spread of Mexican food. Finally, because we still had a three hour return trip ahead of us, we wrapped up the instruments and said our goodbye's until next time. We arrived back in the Yosemite area just before 3 AM and spent another hour or so unwinding, before drifting off to bed.
Today was spent mostly sleeping and keeping warm. It has turned pretty cold here, especially at night. Nevertheless, I was able to get a few pictures of the beautiful nature here. I have another few days in this corner of paradise before returning to Virginia.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Hickory Dickory Dock -- jcarolek
I had this idea that I would spend a little more time on the blogs in their final days. But, as I have found to be more and more the case of late, the daily thrill of living has interfered with the opportunity to spend endless hours glued to the computer, reading and laughing at other bloggers' antics. No, as sure as the spring was filled with hours of planting of things to bloom later and the summer was filled with of hours casting for fish, so the autumn has been filled with hours of hickory nut collecting.
Each day as I run down the stairs from my office at the end of my "real work" day, grab my nut-collecting bag and head off into the woods on my version of the great Easter egg hunt, I think, "tonight, when it is dark and I cannot pick up nuts, I will post on the blogs."
And then, when night falls, I find myself processing the nuts collected and packing shipments of nuts to go out in the mail the next day. The hickory nut sales have been surprisingly good, considering I refuse to participate in the "let's undercut everyone else's price" form of eBay competition. No, I know the price I need to get for my product, and that's how I price mine. And, the day before yesterday when I tallied my shipped orders, discovering I had sold to 30 customers for a total of 160 pounds already, I was shocked!
So tonight, as I was processing the latest trailer full of nuts collected (not ALL from today, of course) I realized the time has all but run out for eBay blogging.
Only two posts in October 2009..... well, so, let's make it three, and then, as they say in the movies, "that's all she wrote."
For me the blogs were certainly fun. I met some amazing people here. I even met some of them in person when I happened to be traveling in their neck of the woods on business travel. And these people have enriched my life. No question there. I never really enjoyed the drama aspects of the blogs, but that was the beauty of the blogs... like a smorgasbord, I could take healthy helpings of those things I enjoyed, and maybe a taste of something new, but I could say, "no thanks" to things that did not appeal to me.
I have copied the posts I was interested in retaining into my new blog on blogspot (http://judyscornerstore.blogspot.com) and the rest, well, eBay can keep in their archives of "wisdom pearls" (that's that very large circular file that is labeled "jcarolek"). I can almost FEEL the server that has housed my zillions of posts for over more than three years, breathing a sigh of relief, as it anticipates the jcarolek load being lifted.
And there you have it. August slipped by, followed rapidly by September and before I knew it, October had all but vanished into the autumn air..... and here I've been, just enjoying the heck out of hickory nut pickin'.
I'm heading to CA for a couple of weeks next week and my hickory nut sales have paid for my trip.... but.....................
hickory dickory dock
the mouse ran up the clock
the clock struck one
the mouse ran down
hickory dickory dock....
My time here is done... I have enjoyed it...
And there are still so many nuts............
Each day as I run down the stairs from my office at the end of my "real work" day, grab my nut-collecting bag and head off into the woods on my version of the great Easter egg hunt, I think, "tonight, when it is dark and I cannot pick up nuts, I will post on the blogs."
And then, when night falls, I find myself processing the nuts collected and packing shipments of nuts to go out in the mail the next day. The hickory nut sales have been surprisingly good, considering I refuse to participate in the "let's undercut everyone else's price" form of eBay competition. No, I know the price I need to get for my product, and that's how I price mine. And, the day before yesterday when I tallied my shipped orders, discovering I had sold to 30 customers for a total of 160 pounds already, I was shocked!
So tonight, as I was processing the latest trailer full of nuts collected (not ALL from today, of course) I realized the time has all but run out for eBay blogging.
Only two posts in October 2009..... well, so, let's make it three, and then, as they say in the movies, "that's all she wrote."
For me the blogs were certainly fun. I met some amazing people here. I even met some of them in person when I happened to be traveling in their neck of the woods on business travel. And these people have enriched my life. No question there. I never really enjoyed the drama aspects of the blogs, but that was the beauty of the blogs... like a smorgasbord, I could take healthy helpings of those things I enjoyed, and maybe a taste of something new, but I could say, "no thanks" to things that did not appeal to me.
I have copied the posts I was interested in retaining into my new blog on blogspot (http://judyscornerstore.blogspot.com) and the rest, well, eBay can keep in their archives of "wisdom pearls" (that's that very large circular file that is labeled "jcarolek"). I can almost FEEL the server that has housed my zillions of posts for over more than three years, breathing a sigh of relief, as it anticipates the jcarolek load being lifted.
And there you have it. August slipped by, followed rapidly by September and before I knew it, October had all but vanished into the autumn air..... and here I've been, just enjoying the heck out of hickory nut pickin'.
I'm heading to CA for a couple of weeks next week and my hickory nut sales have paid for my trip.... but.....................
hickory dickory dock
the mouse ran up the clock
the clock struck one
the mouse ran down
hickory dickory dock....
My time here is done... I have enjoyed it...
And there are still so many nuts............
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Been Busy Hickory Nut Pickin' -- jcarolek
It's been an interesting hickory nut season so far this year. My trees are producing abundantly (I call them "my trees" though I neither planted them, nor cultivated them -- still, they are on my property and by that virtue, I have inherited them... they are mine). All I have to do is take a walk through my woods at least once per day, a walk that generally lasts at least two hours, but on weekends can stretch into five or six hours.
OK, I over simplify my part. Yes, I have to hunt the nuts as I walk. I have to stoop and pick each one up from the ground where it has recently fallen. I have to shuck off the thick hull and toss the nut in its shell into my sack...my double WalMart bag that is ALWAYS in my hand when I am outside this time of year.
When my bag is too heavy to carry, I return to the house and either return with a fresh double bagger, or set about the next stage of hickory nut preparation. I bathe every nut and examine each to ensure I retain only those nuts that are not either undeveloped or already consumed by worms. It's a fact that "organically grown" hickory nuts will have a certain percentage that have been inhabited and consumed by the hickory nut worm. Since I sell the hickory nuts on eBay, my preference is to eliminate those less than perfect nuts from my inventory. And after their bath, the hickory nuts enjoy congregating in mesh sacks where I place them, allowing them to air dry while awaiting shipment.
I started my walks this year about a month ago. I imagine I have another month yet to go. And already I have collected at least 500 lbs of hickory nuts, 400 lbs of which were fit for sale. My eBay room is lined with mesh sacks of these large, beautiful nuts.
I have sold about 60 lbs so far this year. When I put up my first listing on eBay in September, there were only maybe three of us selling the whole nuts. Others were selling the nut meats. My first listings sold within hours of being listed, and sold for my Buy-It-Now prices. I shipped immediately, received positive feedback and listed more nuts, listing daily as I collected daily. Then, all of a sudden, there were 15 listings from multiple sellers.
This year I have observed a behavior different from my last excursion down hickory nut sales in 2007. This year I have observed a willingness of other sellers to take the "easy" way out. I was looking at another seller's listing, and all of a sudden it struck me. Her photo was MY photo. Not my entire photo, since I have my id watermarked on the photo. No, she had taken only the center of my photo and displayed it as her own. She was successful in selling her first listing of hickory nuts... the one using my photo. I did notice that she did decide against using my photo for her subsequent listings, opting, instead, to take photos of her actual product... which looked significantly different from mine and which did not sell. I decided to get more creative with MY photos....
I also noticed sellers literally copying each other's verbiage in their listings. I don't mind being a mentor for a new seller, but for goodness sake, would it be so hard to write your own story? Promote your own product? I made it harder to copy mine... I know this will come as a huge surprise to anyone who has made it this far in my tale, but, I added verbiage to my listing... making it more verbose... most of the copiers want to copy short listings... easier to disguise as one's own.
The hickory nut marketplace is getting larger on eBay, now sporting more than three dozen listings on any given day. There are those who sell the nuts in the hulls and those who sell them without the hulls.; those who wash the nuts and those who don't; those who offer free shipping and those who try to lure the buyers in with a 99 cent starting bid, and charge more than 10 times that amount in shipping.
Naturally, eBay sellers will try to entice the buyers with lowest price, best product and outstanding service. But in the past month I have watched as the hickory nut sellers have competed so intensely to hit that lowest price mark, they have literally made their product and the work involved in getting their product to market, worthless. It is sad to watch. I still have my hickory nuts listed and will continue to list them. But I refuse to engage in the "undercut the next guy" game. I have determined what my hickory nuts, in all their glory are worth, and I continue to list them at those prices. I work hard to take good photos to market my hickory nuts, and of course, I am committed to exceptional customer service. And I continue to make sales, albeit not as many as others, perhaps, but, I suppose when they have sold out of their hickory nuts, I will still have plenty to sell....
None of the concerns above will change the fact that walking through my beautiful Virginia hickory woods every day is rejuvenating to both body and mind. I enjoy the company of my three outdoor critters (two cats and a dog) who accompany me every step of the way, each and every day. And when I put my head on the pillow at night, I sleep hard, thoroughly exhausted from my favorite autumn pastime. I've been a little busy lately....walking in the woods collecting hickory nuts.
OK, I over simplify my part. Yes, I have to hunt the nuts as I walk. I have to stoop and pick each one up from the ground where it has recently fallen. I have to shuck off the thick hull and toss the nut in its shell into my sack...my double WalMart bag that is ALWAYS in my hand when I am outside this time of year.
When my bag is too heavy to carry, I return to the house and either return with a fresh double bagger, or set about the next stage of hickory nut preparation. I bathe every nut and examine each to ensure I retain only those nuts that are not either undeveloped or already consumed by worms. It's a fact that "organically grown" hickory nuts will have a certain percentage that have been inhabited and consumed by the hickory nut worm. Since I sell the hickory nuts on eBay, my preference is to eliminate those less than perfect nuts from my inventory. And after their bath, the hickory nuts enjoy congregating in mesh sacks where I place them, allowing them to air dry while awaiting shipment.
I started my walks this year about a month ago. I imagine I have another month yet to go. And already I have collected at least 500 lbs of hickory nuts, 400 lbs of which were fit for sale. My eBay room is lined with mesh sacks of these large, beautiful nuts.
I have sold about 60 lbs so far this year. When I put up my first listing on eBay in September, there were only maybe three of us selling the whole nuts. Others were selling the nut meats. My first listings sold within hours of being listed, and sold for my Buy-It-Now prices. I shipped immediately, received positive feedback and listed more nuts, listing daily as I collected daily. Then, all of a sudden, there were 15 listings from multiple sellers.
This year I have observed a behavior different from my last excursion down hickory nut sales in 2007. This year I have observed a willingness of other sellers to take the "easy" way out. I was looking at another seller's listing, and all of a sudden it struck me. Her photo was MY photo. Not my entire photo, since I have my id watermarked on the photo. No, she had taken only the center of my photo and displayed it as her own. She was successful in selling her first listing of hickory nuts... the one using my photo. I did notice that she did decide against using my photo for her subsequent listings, opting, instead, to take photos of her actual product... which looked significantly different from mine and which did not sell. I decided to get more creative with MY photos....
I also noticed sellers literally copying each other's verbiage in their listings. I don't mind being a mentor for a new seller, but for goodness sake, would it be so hard to write your own story? Promote your own product? I made it harder to copy mine... I know this will come as a huge surprise to anyone who has made it this far in my tale, but, I added verbiage to my listing... making it more verbose... most of the copiers want to copy short listings... easier to disguise as one's own.
The hickory nut marketplace is getting larger on eBay, now sporting more than three dozen listings on any given day. There are those who sell the nuts in the hulls and those who sell them without the hulls.; those who wash the nuts and those who don't; those who offer free shipping and those who try to lure the buyers in with a 99 cent starting bid, and charge more than 10 times that amount in shipping.
Naturally, eBay sellers will try to entice the buyers with lowest price, best product and outstanding service. But in the past month I have watched as the hickory nut sellers have competed so intensely to hit that lowest price mark, they have literally made their product and the work involved in getting their product to market, worthless. It is sad to watch. I still have my hickory nuts listed and will continue to list them. But I refuse to engage in the "undercut the next guy" game. I have determined what my hickory nuts, in all their glory are worth, and I continue to list them at those prices. I work hard to take good photos to market my hickory nuts, and of course, I am committed to exceptional customer service. And I continue to make sales, albeit not as many as others, perhaps, but, I suppose when they have sold out of their hickory nuts, I will still have plenty to sell....
None of the concerns above will change the fact that walking through my beautiful Virginia hickory woods every day is rejuvenating to both body and mind. I enjoy the company of my three outdoor critters (two cats and a dog) who accompany me every step of the way, each and every day. And when I put my head on the pillow at night, I sleep hard, thoroughly exhausted from my favorite autumn pastime. I've been a little busy lately....walking in the woods collecting hickory nuts.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Dad taught us to dance -- jcarolek
When I was a very little girl, maybe three years old, I have memories of dancing. Dancing with my doll, dancing with my sister and brothers. Mostly I recall our "dancing" to be sort of "ring around the rosie -ish" but in my teeny tiny mind, I was dancing. Time passed and I outgrew the circle dance that so delighted me as a preschooler. It wasn't until we moved to England, when I was 10, that I recall dancing again.
We never had a television, and instead, amused ourselves with records and books. On occasion, Dad would move all of the living room furniture out of the way, put records on the turntable and we'd dance. All of us, the six kids and Dad. I don't really ever recall Mom dancing with us, but probably she did and I am just not remembering. I know Dad taught us how to waltz (ever so useful in the disco's of the early 70's LOL) I have never forgotten how to waltz, though I probably can count on one hand the times I have actually "waltzed" in public.
One night I recall Dad showing how to dance the "modern way." Now, I don't mind telling you, it looked a little funny to me seeing Dad do his rendition of the 70's dance hall. His arms were flailing and his legs were going every which way. And Jeannie, my sister, did not indicate that Dad's version of the modern dance was anything less than accurate. And she was 12 or 13 at the time. She would have KNOWN, because she WAS out there at the discos, dancing with the other kids of Cheltenham. No, I was convinced that Dad was correct and so, copied his "style" -- we all did, my brothers and me. I really cannot recall whether Jeannie did, but, then again, I was too preoccupied with polishing my own dancing skills to concern myself with hers.
When we returned to the States, I was in the eighth grade. One of the very cool perks of being in Jr High, as we called it then, was the "teen club." Now I don't recall whether this was an every Friday night thing, or once or twice a month, but I do know it was fun. I looked forward to going to teen club, where many of the kids danced, but where those who prefered could go play games, basketball, etc. I vividly recall the night I finally had the courage to get out on the dance floor with the other kids. I decided Dad had been right, that the kids were dancing, more or less as he he taught us. And so, with a reasonable amount of confidence, I joined the pulsating throng of kids and before long my arms were flailing and my feet were moving in all sorts of strange directions.
All was going well for the first few minutes. All of a sudden, my friend Chris Macey, who himself was no prize, with a mouth full of metal braces, and a skinny gawky appearance, started to laugh. I looked to see what was so funny. Part of Chris's charm was his laugh. He threw his head back and I swear his mouth opened wider than any I've ever seen, except perhaps that guy on the commercial with the flip-top head. Anyway, Chris had his head thrown back, mouth open a mile, and was laughing for all he was worth.... AT ME!
"What's so funny?" I asked. He seriously sounded like he was going to choke to death, he was laughing so hard.
"What are you doing?" he finally got out.
"What do you mean, what am I doing? I'm dancing!"
Well, he laughed even harder at that. It seems that simply flailing the arms and having the feet going at all kinds of cock-eyed directions did not actually constitute "dancing." I laughed it off, and blamed it on my father having taught me wrong (couldn't POSSIBLY be that I just was a klutz and dancing should be left to more graceful souls). I found I was suddenly thirsty, and headed for the punch bowl. After that, I moseyed out of the cafeteria (aka dance hall) and down to one of the rooms where the geeks were playing chess. Chess, I could handle.
So, for the remainder of my teen club weeks, months, and years, I mostly played chess. I figured I'd leave dancing to those who would not embarrass themselves. To this day, I still evoke roars of laughter when I dance... ask my brother Dan... he was laughing at me when I was dancing at my son's wedding last October.
What brought on this little trip through the dance halls of yesteryear? I was driving to Northern VA today, as I will be working here this week. I had the radio on to pass the time on the three hour drive, and a song came on that immediately made me feel like Pavlov's dog. The song was "Playing in a Travlin' Band." And it was all I could do to keep on driving. For every nerve of my totally klutzy self screamed at me "Dance, Dance!" Ahh, yes, the spirit is willing, but the flesh is SO weak! I managed to continue on my journey, satisfying my spirit's urge to dance with a little rhythmic finger thumping on the steering wheel. And Chris Macey's flip-top head, and his outrageously contagious laugh, jumped forward 38 years and dragged me back into that teen club when I was 13 years old.
We never had a television, and instead, amused ourselves with records and books. On occasion, Dad would move all of the living room furniture out of the way, put records on the turntable and we'd dance. All of us, the six kids and Dad. I don't really ever recall Mom dancing with us, but probably she did and I am just not remembering. I know Dad taught us how to waltz (ever so useful in the disco's of the early 70's LOL) I have never forgotten how to waltz, though I probably can count on one hand the times I have actually "waltzed" in public.
One night I recall Dad showing how to dance the "modern way." Now, I don't mind telling you, it looked a little funny to me seeing Dad do his rendition of the 70's dance hall. His arms were flailing and his legs were going every which way. And Jeannie, my sister, did not indicate that Dad's version of the modern dance was anything less than accurate. And she was 12 or 13 at the time. She would have KNOWN, because she WAS out there at the discos, dancing with the other kids of Cheltenham. No, I was convinced that Dad was correct and so, copied his "style" -- we all did, my brothers and me. I really cannot recall whether Jeannie did, but, then again, I was too preoccupied with polishing my own dancing skills to concern myself with hers.
When we returned to the States, I was in the eighth grade. One of the very cool perks of being in Jr High, as we called it then, was the "teen club." Now I don't recall whether this was an every Friday night thing, or once or twice a month, but I do know it was fun. I looked forward to going to teen club, where many of the kids danced, but where those who prefered could go play games, basketball, etc. I vividly recall the night I finally had the courage to get out on the dance floor with the other kids. I decided Dad had been right, that the kids were dancing, more or less as he he taught us. And so, with a reasonable amount of confidence, I joined the pulsating throng of kids and before long my arms were flailing and my feet were moving in all sorts of strange directions.
All was going well for the first few minutes. All of a sudden, my friend Chris Macey, who himself was no prize, with a mouth full of metal braces, and a skinny gawky appearance, started to laugh. I looked to see what was so funny. Part of Chris's charm was his laugh. He threw his head back and I swear his mouth opened wider than any I've ever seen, except perhaps that guy on the commercial with the flip-top head. Anyway, Chris had his head thrown back, mouth open a mile, and was laughing for all he was worth.... AT ME!
"What's so funny?" I asked. He seriously sounded like he was going to choke to death, he was laughing so hard.
"What are you doing?" he finally got out.
"What do you mean, what am I doing? I'm dancing!"
Well, he laughed even harder at that. It seems that simply flailing the arms and having the feet going at all kinds of cock-eyed directions did not actually constitute "dancing." I laughed it off, and blamed it on my father having taught me wrong (couldn't POSSIBLY be that I just was a klutz and dancing should be left to more graceful souls). I found I was suddenly thirsty, and headed for the punch bowl. After that, I moseyed out of the cafeteria (aka dance hall) and down to one of the rooms where the geeks were playing chess. Chess, I could handle.
So, for the remainder of my teen club weeks, months, and years, I mostly played chess. I figured I'd leave dancing to those who would not embarrass themselves. To this day, I still evoke roars of laughter when I dance... ask my brother Dan... he was laughing at me when I was dancing at my son's wedding last October.
What brought on this little trip through the dance halls of yesteryear? I was driving to Northern VA today, as I will be working here this week. I had the radio on to pass the time on the three hour drive, and a song came on that immediately made me feel like Pavlov's dog. The song was "Playing in a Travlin' Band." And it was all I could do to keep on driving. For every nerve of my totally klutzy self screamed at me "Dance, Dance!" Ahh, yes, the spirit is willing, but the flesh is SO weak! I managed to continue on my journey, satisfying my spirit's urge to dance with a little rhythmic finger thumping on the steering wheel. And Chris Macey's flip-top head, and his outrageously contagious laugh, jumped forward 38 years and dragged me back into that teen club when I was 13 years old.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Just a little nutty -- jcarolek
Two years ago I test marketed an item that was abundant in my yard that fall. Hickory nuts. All day and all night I heard the nuts falling from the trees and crashing down on unsuspecting decks, cars and the occasional passerby. I wondered whether anyone sold these hard-shelled nuts on eBay. A quick look assured me that, indeed, they do. So, I decided to start collecting and selling my collection.
When I started, in late September of 2007, I had no idea that by the end of the season, some two months later,
When I started, in late September of 2007, I had no idea that by the end of the season, some two months later,
Friday, September 25, 2009
At the end of the rainbow -- jcarolek
I returned home from my out of town training yesterday. As always, it was good to be home. It really doesn't matter whether I am traveling for training, work or pleasure, returning home to sleep in my own bed is truly a reward.
Though I'd been gone only three and a half days, as I find so often, things were noticeably different upon my return. Yes, the grass needs cutting again (I think it grows double time when I am not here to glare at it daily), but that's not what really struck me as my broken car rolled down the driveway to the garage. What struck me was the tobacco.
I had decided to try growing some
Monday, September 21, 2009
And me without a camera -- jcarolek
Tonight I drove to MD for work. I'll be here the rest of the week, and my schedule will be very full. I intentionally left my camera at home -- didn't need the temptation to go wandering around and taking photos -- must stay on task, blah, blah, blah.
So, mine was about a three hour drive and right at about the 1 1/2 hour mark, I had a thought about deer. My thought was, I really hope I get off this particular road before it turns completely dark and the deer start jumping. I'm always
So, mine was about a three hour drive and right at about the 1 1/2 hour mark, I had a thought about deer. My thought was, I really hope I get off this particular road before it turns completely dark and the deer start jumping. I'm always
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Changing Seasons -- jcarolek
Seems the seasons are changing. I can feel the coolness in the air and the hickory nuts are, once again, bombarding me when I venture out in the woods. I collected a sackful today, the first of many, I am sure.
As I walked, I thought about these things that are so familiar and yet are forever
As I walked, I thought about these things that are so familiar and yet are forever
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