From our leaf tours:
It is the Solstice, Blessed Be. As they days grow slowly longer, may we also grow to love one another and to learn to live in peace. Holi...
Images of my container garden.
Belated Happy St. Patrick's Day. I have been too sick to enjoy one of my favorite holidays. I didn't even get corned beef, or to w...
Happy Halloween; it is my favorite night of the year! We were low key this year, but we did get out our graveyards and pumpkins. A scarecr...
Memoir; Writing your Life Story: Solstice, also for Dr. E's Greening Tips for the C... : It is the Solstice; Blessed Be! I look forwar...
Look closely at how delicate I am. I am probably a may fly, but I am as detailed as the scarabs from an Egyptian royal tomb. No one a...
Proclamation of Thanksgiving Washington, D.C. October 3, 1863 This is the proclamation which set the precedent for America's national...
Fresh Greek Peasant Salad This is the salad I grew up with; it was our late night snack and early lunch. This one has home grown t...
At this time of almost New Year, I would like to comment on the new family kindle, nothing personal, it's a fun little gadget, but rathe...
- I (1)
Tuesday, December 17, 2013
Dr. E's Doll Museum Blog: Seasons Greetings, Merry Christmas and Peace in 20...: From a Facebook friend; Enjoy!!!
This was an emergency recipe of sorts. I had to use up the tofu. Some put into hot and sour soup. The rest I sliced into rectangular pieces, and briefly sauteed in two pats butter, about 1 tsp soy sauce, a drop of Sake, and some sprinkled bonito flakes from our favorite Japanese grocery store. The result was very good, added flavor if dropped into the soup, and was very nice on crackers. So, here is a quick hot appetizer for the holidays :)
Monday, December 16, 2013
Friday, December 13, 2013
I'd say they deserve the Darwin Award, but this is not a funny situation. In honor of the spirit of the season, our local city council has voted to give us death and destruction for Christmas. Today, an ordinance allowing deer hunting within city limits went into effect. We have a lot of "city deer" wandering around. To date, I know of know accidents with in the city from hitting them. They are eating a few dead twigs and plants here and there. A couple people claimed a doe tired to paw them; we didn't ask if they had hit the egg nog a bit early or not. I can think of plenty of accidents that could happen with hunters a little to happy to zing that arrow in the sky. Couldn't we have just staged William Tell in one of our local theaters? When we had coyote running around, no one thought to hunt them. In fact, Animal Control was pretty clear they were not responsible for anything coyote ugly or pretty, and they stay far away from all wild turkeys [the bird kind; we can't speak for the bottled kind]. The raccoon population is out of control; they walk brazenly into peoples' houses. Those of us who still have an ounce of common sense think that a bite from one of these animals, especially if they are rabid, would cause more harm than the deer. We have moles and their relatives everywhere, and our yards are like tunnels. Yet, nothing is ever done about these varmits. Really, it wouldn't take deadly weapons to control them. Live tracks do the trick. It's a cold, bleak winter thus far. Not many feed the deer. They will die off naturally. What's worse, we have bow hunters running around. I plan on researching what it takes to get a bow hunting license. Please don't send me angry commnents. Honor the First Amendment, and read on. Killing things is not apparently enough. We have been conducting a new and negative urban renewal policy around here. Lincoln School, a landmark, was taken out of private hands because the owner was not "taking care of it." Ultimately, it was demolished; evidently, taking care of a historic building means introducing it to a wrecking ball. The empty lot where a 100+ year old school once stood is much better. This week, after some sinister machinations and a suspiciously broken boiler, Audubon school was detroyed. There were offers to buy it; the city turned them down. It paid three times as much to have it destroyed. Where did all the Audubon prints inside go, I'd like to know? And where did the Japanese Friendship dolls disappear to? I break my own rule and end a sentence in a preposition to make a point and attract readers' attention. I fear for our Civil War fort, and for the antique statues in Webber Park. Perhaps the Mayor won't like the way they are looking at him. And, speaking of Justice and The Bill of Rights, there are plans to tear down the historic courthouse being laid. They have already been defeated in at least one voters' referendum, but we are persistent in our efforts to make us all one happy big box store. By the way, we are getting our own Walmart. Yet another school building, this one rennovated by a community college, may go bye-bye. The City looks away as businesses here for generations close, and their buildings stand empty. People trying to rennovate old, elaborate structures run out of funds, or have trouble getting money. Strip malls replace history everywhere. We are becoming an urban blight ghosttown as more people move out of our city and into one of the surrounding communities. This is my home, or I would leave. I won't be driven out, though I fear if any of the Council sees this, a little holiday retaliation may come my way. So, thank you Honored Members of the Council for gifting us all with death and destruction this Christmas. Ho. Ho. Ho. Ho. When is the next election?
Monday, December 9, 2013
I have always loved old things, preferring them to the new and the shiny. I take it to heart that more and more of our old buildings are being imploded for the sake of progress, The Armory, Lincoln School, Audubon School, The Huber Home, have all been victims. Eyesores, some have called them, dangerous buildings, accidents waiting to happen. History, I say, that will never be repeated or enjoyed again, like the cafeteria on the mezzanine of McCabe’s Department store or the ice cream counter at Pitcher’s on 30th in Rock Island. There are some landmarks, though, that can’t be bulldozed. They will find their way into our consciousness, even in a disaster. Cases in point; the fossils found along the shores of our own Mississippi. Paleontologists will tell you that these fossils, by definition, evidence of prehistoric life, become exposed when the River’s water levels drop, or after the waters of a great flood have receded. See, they will find us, come “hell or high-water.” They also show up where you least expect them; trilobites and fossil ferns showed up in the limestone rock borders of my parent’s garden in Rock Island. Huge rocks encrusted with fossils with exotic names like Cladopora, Cephalpods, Anthozoa, Platyrachella, Productella-they made a home for a water snake that slithered out when I lifted up his rock roof to see the fossils close up. Twenty five years ago or so, they showed up at the gift shop of the Putnam, pre-IMAX, and in the sands near the Cordoba Nuclear plant, where we fieldtripped for Summer Biology in 1975. Our fossil landmarks are far older than the demolished school buildings amid whose walls our teachers first introduced them to us. They hail from the Devonian Period of prehistory, between 410 and 360 million years ago. Appropriately, many of these were marine animals, and fish Later ,the new kids on the block appeared during the Ice Age, the wooly mammoth, giant ground sloth, the land animals, ancient at 10,000 to 2 million years old, but familiar. They coincided with us, with the humans, who learned later to destroy so well. Fossils humble us, these often tiny pieces of prehistory. They have already outlasted us; they lived in some form or another for hundreds of millions years. We have only lived in this Valley for some 10-fiftenn thousand years. If by chance my fossilized remains should survive a million years, and some archaeologist in the far distant future finds me, I hope I have that little fossil fern and the trilobite clutched in my bony hand. And I hope I’m part of prehistory lesson that’s taught in a school that isn’t in danger of being demolished.