Margaret Montet

Penn's Landing: Exploring Philadelphia's Waterfront

2012-01-15T19:15:00.000-05:00

The Moshulu, a floating restaurant at Penn's Landing in Philadelphia.

We dined aboard this Moshulu, a Penn's Landing icon for decades. It was exceptional, but more on that later. First, we took some time to explore Penn's Landing. There is a maritime museum here, but more interesting to us were the two restored ships docked here.


The USS Becuna (left, in black) and the USS Olympia (right, in red, white and tan)

Fred demonstrates the narrowness of the sub.

The USS Becuna glided under the South Pacific in World War II, searching for enemy ships to destroy. This isn't the first submarine I have visited, so it wasn't the first time I was faced with the idea of actually living in these tight quarters. There would be no room for T'ai Chi or yoga on this vessel, but perhaps a sailor could manage to fit some jumping jacks if s/he stood sideways in the hall. One is required to have a strategy when passing through the segments, or compartments, of the submarine because they are connected by these airtight, watertight, oval doorways. (These are not as tight as the circular doorways I navigated in a Soviet submarine in San Diego earlier this year.) My strategy is to stand sideways, stick one leg through the opening, duck and put the head through, stand up and pull the other leg through. Real submariners would grab the overhead handles and throw both legs through at once.


The passage between compartments in the USS Becuna.

The 160 sailors aboard the Becuna were charged with finding enemy vessels and destroying them with its steam-powered torpedoes. This is a pre-nuclear submarine, so consider the energy situation: four huge diesel motors (two of whom were named Huff and Puff) ran the generators that powered the electric motors that ran the submarine when it was on the surface. Those diesel motors also charged giant batteries that powered the vessel when it was submerged. (Thanks to Fred for this explanation!)

One of the Becuna's torpedo tubes.

Puff the magic diesel motor.

The USS Olympia's bell.

The USS Olympia was the latest in US Navy warships when it served in the Spanish-American War, most famously under the command of Commodore George Dewey at the Battle of Manila Bay in 1898. This was the battle that won the Philippines without any loss of American life. Visitors can explore almost the entire ship including the bridge where Commodore Dewey famously shouted "You may fire when you are ready, Gridley!" The Olympia seems luxurious after the tight quarters of the Becuna, especially since visitors see the officers' quarters first. Enlisted men slept in freely-swinging canvas hammocks. (This seems barbaric until one considers that the WWII sailors in the Becuna had to hot-bunk: when they went on duty, someone else was ready to sleep in their bunk.)

The USS Olympia: how would you like to sleep on one of those every night?

We didn't research the living quarters on the Moshulu. We went aboard that ship to enjoy a fine dinner. This beautifully-restored ship is actually the world's oldest four-masted ship still afloat. She was built in 1904 and carried cargo all over the world for the United States, Germany, and then private owners under a variety of names. She was named Moshulu by President Wilson's wife to honor the Native American Seneca tribe--Moshulu means fearless in their language. In 1975 the Moshulu became a restaurant here at Penn's Landing.

Yes, those are two people up there!

I have been fascinated by this floating restaurant since my college days in the early 1980s, so this first meal there probably would have been a real treat no matter what. As it turned out, our food was delicious and the smoked vanilla bean ice cream I finished with has been on my mind since. The interior of the ship/restaurant was beautiful, and the nighttime river view from our window was dreamy. It looks like I'm sitting in front of a TV, but that is Camden!

Waiting patiently for my dinner on the Moshulu (with the Battleship New Jersey over my shoulder).

The Mystique of Washington Square in Philadelphia

2012-01-09T11:37:00.005-05:00

Side by side, in their nameless graves, the lovers are sleeping.

Under the humble walls of the little Catholic churchyard,

In the heart of the city, they lie, unknown and unnoticed.

"the little Catholic churchyard"

These lines are from Longfellow's poem "Evangeline", which tells the story of two lovers separated when they were forced onto British ships bound for French Catholic settlements in what is now the United States. The British had just taken control of Nova Scotia in the mid-1700s, and these French Acadians were deported when they refused to pledge loyalty to England. Families were separated and Evangeline and her fiance from this Longfellow poem lost each other until he lay on his deathbed decades later. Most were sent to Louisiana where they became known as Cajuns, but many landed in other regions tolerant of Catholics: Maryland, New England, and Philadelphia. These were my ancestors on my father's side, and I was astonished to find out that this churchyard mentioned in the poem I've known for years is in Philadelphia beside Holy Trinity Catholic Church (1789), and that there are Cajuns buried there. "Unknown and unnoticed" indeed, especially to me!


Washington Square

This area surrounding Washington Square in Philadelphia has a colorful history that I'm willing to bet is "unknown and unnoticed" by the many folks who live near it. I've always noticed a peacefulness about this square, and perhaps I would go as far as to call it somberness, but I never knew why. William Penn included five squares or parks in his original plan for Philadelphia: Northeast (now Franklin Square), Southeast (now Washington Square), Centre Square (where City Hall now stands), Southwest (now Rittenhouse Square), and Northwest (now Logan Circle). Quakers like William Penn would not name places after people (this happened much later), and described these spaces by their relative locations.


Dogs walking their owner

Washington Square definitely lacks the hubbub of the other squares, and one would never expect to find a Rittenhouse Square-esque art fair or event here. My guess is that anyone aware of Washington Square's history would discourage such activity on this ground which conceals the final resting places of hundreds of souls. You will find the more contemplative set here: old men playing chess, people reading, dogs walking their owners, and people of all walks of life passing through.

It's true: this square was used as a "potter's field" or graveyard for poor folks and strangers to the city for many years until the Revolutionary War when soldiers from both sides were buried here in mass graves. Victims of the yellow fever epidemic of 1793 were buried here, too. People who died from deplorable conditions in the Walnut Street Jail were buried here until the 1820s when the jail was replaced by the Eastern State Penitentiary.

In 1954, the Washington Square Planning Committee set out to beautify the park and include a tribute to Washington and the Revolutionary War dead buried here. They imagined a Memorial Tomb to the "Unknown Soldiers of the Revolution" and brought in archeologists to dig up remains of an actual unknown Revolutionary War soldier to put in the memorial. So they dug and found skeletons wrapped in canvas, a clue that these would be the poor, or prisoners, or yellow fever victims. War dead were at least buried in coffins. At last a probable young American soldier's remains were found and placed in the memorial's tomb in front of the statue of George Washington. The eternal flame in front was added in 1976.

Memorial Tomb to the "Unknown Soldier of the Revolution" (1957)

Lippincott Building (1900)

Washington Square's history is not altogether gloomy. From the mid-1800s through the first quarter of the twentieth century, this place was a publishing hotspot. Lippincott, Lea & Febiger, Curtis (publishers of The Saturday Evening Post and Ladies' Home Journal), and the Farm Journal were here, and authors with the still-famous names of Edgar Allan Poe, Washington Irving, Charles Dickens, and Christopher Morley visited them and lectured nearby in the Musical Fund Hall on Locust Street.

The Athenaeum of Philadelphia (1845)

The famous Athenaeum of Philadelphia, an exclusive subscription library now a National Historic Landmark, still exists in a brownstone building on the east side of the square. This institution allowed Philadelphia's wealthy residents access to the latest books and periodicals in a club setting. Tours are available of this treasure on weekdays, and it provides some fascinating online tours which can be found here. The Athenaeum bookstore specializes in Philadelphia, architecture, and Philadelphia architecture.

For more detailed information and a comprehensive walking tour of Washington Square, please consult this virtual tour provided by the Independence Hall Association in Philadelphia. For more information about the Memorial Tomb to the "Unknown Soldiers of the Revolution", consult this page provided by the same organization.

The FACES Project

2012-01-04T17:54:00.006-05:00

Every year, early in January, I pick some kind of project to focus on in that year. In years past, I've focused on photography, French, Latin, non-fiction writing, Shakespeare, and Dickens. Some years I go all out buying or borrowing books and videos, taking classes, and journaling about my endeavors. Some years are just the opposite, and I lose interest right away.

Last year's good intentions for reading Dickens evaporated quickly once I was busy with other stuff. The good news for Charles Dickens is that 2012 is the 200th anniversary of his birth, and the Free Library of Philadelphia (a reasonable commute for me) is hosting bunches of Dickens-related events: http://libwww.freelibrary.org/dickens/. This might jump start last year's project.

Dickens aside, what I really want to dive into this year is photography. I take a lot of photos of places, things, and animals, but I really don't do much with portraits. I am captivated by the photography of Steve McCurry who shoots gorgeous, exotic portraits for National Geographic and other high-profile publications. I went to New York to hear him speak a few years ago, and I was mesmerized by the projected images accompanying his talk. You have seen his work, too: stevemccurry.com. I have decided this year I'll concentrate on portraits. Faces. There's plenty of information for me to get started in the photography books and magazines I already own. I went searching through the photographs I already have and put together a small collection of faces.

While doing this, it occurred to me that animals have to be included in my collection because their faces are so expressive. I included three very different portraits of Gladys the Sheltie that look completely different to me.

The next challenge for me is asking people to let me photograph them. I am very shy about asking people for things, so this will be difficult for me. (I do have a few volunteers lined up already.) These will be realistic photos (not be glamour shots!) with experiments in lighting and backgrounds. If any readers are interested in scoring some free head-shots or profile photos please comment here or shoot me an email. I have no lofty plans for this collection, but if I do decide to publish online or in print, I will make sure to have permission on file. Stay tuned for updates on this, and wish me luck with the asking!

Broad Street Euphoria: the 2012 Mummers String Bands

2012-01-01T20:43:00.009-05:00

I shot 339 photos today at the 2012 Philadelphia Mummers Parade, with my long lens over strangers' shoulders, between bobbing heads, around poking elbows, and while perched atop a barricade. I endured the heinous stench of cigars and the stomach-turning aroma of beer. I was almost caught in the middle of a dispute over a twelve-inch-square piece of sidewalk and just missed a train home (meaning a 55-minute wait for the next one).

I stayed for about half of the String Bands which meant I got to see the second-place winners, Quaker City ("A Toys Night Out"), and the first-place captain from Fralinger, Thomas D'Amore. Woodland took the top band prize, but they performed last today with the theme "It's a Jungle Out There." I was long gone by then. The rest of the results are here if you are interested: http://www.myphl17.com/community/mummers/wphl-2012-mummers-parade-results,0,7882020.story

It was all worth it when I got home and loaded up the photos, though. As I expected, they were vibrant and dazzling. The euphoric faces of the musicians, dancers, and captains reminded me of that top-secret bucket list entry of mine. I would LOVE to march up Broad Street on New Year's Day with a really good string band. I have some credentials: I play the tenor saxophone, I participated in seven years of marching band (four of them competitive), I can handle choreographed dance moves, and I would ROCK a sequined costume with crazy hat.

Credentials aside, I understand the huge commitment required for these groups and I know I don't have the time. They practice their music and dancing all year, and those costumes! Those costumes take a lot of work in design and construction, and have to be durable to withstand any weather. This year's weather was the best ever--the strut up Broad Street would have been like a walk in the park (but with lots of preparation!).

When I lived in Center City, I would watch the parade on TV until the string bands stepped-off in South Philadelphia. That was my cue to bundle-up and head out to the corner of Broad and Locust and make my way slowly through the crowd up to the crowd barricade to get a clear shot with my 35mm camera. I would be in position by the time the String Bands arrived at that performance spot. (I enjoy the Comics and the Fancies, but the String Bands are my favorites.) I took some nice shots and after an hour or two I'd head home with my frozen toes and fingers. Then, like now, it was worth it for the entertainment, the joy, and the photos! Check out some more of this year's best and behold those joyful faces:

At The Beach after a Windy Winter Storm

2011-12-29T12:39:00.011-05:00

I suspect most people are familiar with the concept of a pleasant walk on the beach on a lovely sunshiny day. If you ask me, though, the most memorable beach explorations happen as a storm approaches, or after a windy winter storm...like today. For two days here, one rainy and one sunny, the wind has been incredibly strong, blowing the patio furniture around and probably too strong for kite flying. Do you know about the B eaufort Scale? I would estimate the past two days as Force 7 or 8, based on the blowing sea foam and resistance when walking into the wind business.

Interesting stuff washes up after a storm. Some stuff you would expect to see like shells, stones, driftwood (above), crab carcasses, and piles of reeds. I saw all this stuff today, and was amazed at the large piles of reeds--as if some reed farmer harvested it and left it in piles at the high-tide mark. (See one of these piles below, with a softball bonus.) Today we saw plastic building blocks, that softball, a tube of sunscreen, and lots of processed wood.

This morning, while breathing in the delicious sea air, I noticed this HUGE black thing on the beach up ahead. It was a bird of prey, a raptor of some kind, and it took flight as we approached. This flying thing was so big that if Gladys had still been a puppy I'd have scooped her up and hid her inside my jacket. (But Gladys is a canine of gravitas and this was not necessary.) The big black flying thing flew in circles above us, getting smaller, then larger, then smaller again as it disappeared over the neighborhood houses. We kept walking, watching for big bird footprints where the thing had been, and sure enough, right by a big, dead, white bird, there were rather large bird prints. Here they are next to one of my own size 7 sneaker prints. Those are big bird feet. I don't know what the white bird's story was. I'm pretty sure it was not an ordinary gull, and I'm pretty sure the big black raptor intended it to be lunch. It looked like yet another thing washed-up in the storm. (I don't go near dead things, but I did take its picture for the record from two angles, neither of which includes a face.)

There are many things in this life that I can say I'm reasonably good at, but bird watching is not one of them. I try to learn about birds because they are so important to Cape May birders. Remember this summer I wrote this for NJ.com about the Raptor Watch: http://www.nj.com/shore/blogs/index.ssf/2011/09/looking_for_raptors_in_cape_ma.html While this bird talk didn't help me distinguish one hawk from another without reference tools, it did give me pointers on what to look for, like the fingery feathers at the ends of wings.

The best I can do is take as many photos as possible, blow them up on my computer, and then compare them to drawings or other photographs in my collection. This prevents me from enjoying the experience on-sight as much as I would if I knew what the heck I was looking at, but usually I can come up with a probable ID after the fact. So here s/he is, my new friend, Fingers, waiting for an ID. I think those very fingers are sending me to the Hawk pages of my bird ID books...but what kind of hawk?? Well, my bird ID books are about 100 miles from where I sit, so this is going to have to wait! Any guesses?

Update: After consulting my notes and books, I have to conclude that Gladys and I saw an eagle on the bay this week! It had the wrong head to be a vulture, wrong color to be any kind of hawk seen in NJ, and its size ruled-out those guys anyway. I've boiled it down to an immature Bald Eagle (uncommon in Cape May in winter) or a Golden Eagle (rare in Cape May in winter). That. is. thrilling.

I Made a Marbled Silk Scarf!

2011-12-27T20:18:00.011-05:00

I made this great scarf at the Bethlehem (PA) Christkindlmarkt this month. There, among the stalls filled with handcrafted holiday gifts, was a large work area with three long, rectangular vats filled with what looked like water with paint floating on top (see left). The area was mobbed with people watching and people doing, and soon I went from a watcher to a doer! This was the perfect Christmas gift from Fred (who also shot these photos)--crafting in a new medium I had never worked with and ending up with a beautiful silk scarf (and I wear scarves).

First, I was invited to choose colors. When in doubt or on the spot, I choose colors of the sea: blues, deep greens, rich purples. My scarf coach, who was very helpful, suggested some bright greens and yellows, and I agreed they would contrast well. The paints were all in plastic squeeze bottles like you might find ketchup in at a casual hamburger joint with red-and-white checked tablecloths. Some of the paints were really thin, and others were thick. My scarf coach knew them all by number and advised me which would spread a lot and which would just sit on the liquid in the vat. (That liquid turned out to be sizing and helps the paint stay on the silk.)

I squirted my paint colors onto the liquid. The resulting blob design (see right) was interesting and I could have stopped there. My scarf coach pointed out the samples on the wall: the French swirl design, the feathered design, and the plain blobs. That feathered design was tempting, and the scarf creator before me made a very cool feathered scarf that turned into a peacock design. Keeping my ocean inspiration in mind, I chose the French swirls. I was to poke a metal stylus into the floating blobs and draw a circle. This dragged the paint into the swirl design. I worked my way down the paint blobs in the vat making swirls and watching what the paint did. That's what I'm doing in the photo to the left.

My scarf coach then suggested adding a flower on either end, and we chose a nice pepto-pink for that. We put a big pink blob at either end of the vat, and a small white blob in the center of each flower. To make the flower I was to take the stylus and draw four lines from the outside of the flower to the center. Then the small white blob in the center got swirled. You can see me making a flower in the last picture.

Okay, so now the paint design is sitting in the vat, ready. My scarf coach pulled a long white silk scarf from a box of many. We each held the corners of a short end of the scarf and placed it on top of the paint for a few seconds. We removed it, and the scarf coach brought us over to a bucket of water. She dunked my creation in there for a rinse, and and then we stretched it out for a look. It was beautiful! That paint stayed on the silk just like it had been in the vat.

My scarf got stuffed in a plastic zipper bag with instructions on what to do when I got home: rinse, gently squeeze out excess water, hang to dry, and iron. It's one good-looking scarf. I've worn it twice so far and gotten lots of compliments and inquiries on the process.

If you're interested you can actually make your own scarf! Look here: http://www.ebrurichsilkdesigns.com/

Merry Christmas! Random Acts of Christmas Kindness Advent Calendar

2011-12-24T23:01:00.007-05:00

Merry Christmas! It's time to finish the Advent Calendar for this year. For a project that I started on a whim, it has been an amazing, unforeseen pleasure! I have enjoyed sharing my traditions and holiday delights with you along with the heartwarming stories I have discovered. I do plan on transforming the content of the Advent blog into an ebook very soon, and I'll announce that when it becomes available. This ebook will have most of the same content as the blog, but not completely as I'll not use the stories that are not my own or for which I do not have explicit permission to use. I do plan to put a few more crafty and tasty ideas that didn't fit in the blog. Stay tuned!

I had hoped to finish the fabric Advent calendar I was making with all the little numbered doors, but with all of the baking, shopping, and Christmas-spirit-spreading I have been doing, this just didn't happen. I didn't want to rush this project, because I know it will be a treasured reminder of the joyful experience of writing this blog for years to come. I have it all worked out in my head, so I just have to find the time to do it mindfully. Watch for a picture of the finished project. It will look something like this:

So now the blog will go back to being about its usual topic, visiting places near and far, photographing points of interest, writing about traveling, and writing about writing about travel. By the way, I usually do not post every day or even every week, just when I have something to share! I hope that whether you have been reading the blog for a long time, or if you have just discovered it during Advent, that you will continue to follow me on my adventures. It may not be Advent, but I still try to share good feelings and fun. Take a look at my older posts to see what I do--the guest post by Gladys the Sheltie is one of my most popular (find it here: http://margaretmontet.blogspot.com/2009/06/dog-beach-guest-post-by-gladys.html). Gladys has agreed to do another guest post soon!

Please follow the blog, comment if you wish (I would love to hear from you!), or find me on Facebook, Twitter, Google+, or LinkedIn. I use the same name on each of those!

Day Twenty-Eight: Random Acts of Christmas Kindness Advent Calendar

2011-12-24T06:10:00.001-05:00

Former Secretary of State Madeleine Albright owns a huge collection of brooches. Her collection is so important to her diplomacy that she wrote a book called Read My Pins. I saw her on TV explaining how she uses them to cleverly but silently communicate with people, including the foreign heads of state she met with during the Clinton presidency. Here's the Daily Beast's photographic slideshow of some of her more famous pins: Madeleine
Albright's pins.

My collection of bijoux pales in comparison, but I do have a collection that seems to always outgrow whatever way I attempt to organize them. My favorites are the Christmas pins that come out around the first of December and appear on sweaters, jackets, and coats most days of that month. Many were gifts, and some were even gifts from readers of this blog! Check out the brooch made of puzzle pieces and buttons (left), the hand crocheted wreath (below left), the cat with dangly legs (below right), and the sleek, sophisticated black cat with the chic red bow and holly (below right). Many of these gifts of bling are from the years before Gladys the Sheltie when the menagerie here was limited to two cats. Although I don't use my pins to send subliminal messages to heads of state, it occurs to me that they are probably my best props for spreading Christmas spirit because at least one goes with me wherever I go. The givers of these pins are communicating with me. I'm recognized as a cat person, a Christmas lover, and a connoisseur of whimsy.

My holiday pins are important to me,they make me smile, and I look forward to December first every year so that I can bring out this bling. Do I have a favorite? Uh huh, this light blue Christmas tree below shows up silver in the photograph, but it is really a silvery aqua. That was my Mom's favorite color, and this was her Christmas pin. She didn't wear brooches much, but she did wear this one at Christmas time. I've had to replace a couple of the larger rhinestones, but the pin remains the most special in my collection.

Day Twenty-Seven: Random Acts of Christmas Kindness Advent Calendar

2011-12-22T09:56:00.007-05:00

My Christmas Eve tradition started when I was married to a church choir director. In Protestant churches, if you don't know, Christmas services are held on Christmas Eve. At his church, there was a service around 5:00, another at 7:30, and a late one at 11:00. He'd be tied up for most of the day conducting the choir, playing the guitar, and generally overseeing the music for these services on the day that music was probably the most crucial to the service. I worked at the public library then, and we would wait anxiously for word to come down to us from the mayor that we could leave early as long as a skeleton crew remained to keep the lib' open. Every year we'd walk out, and as the others got in their cars to join their families, I realized I'd be going home to an empty house. Bummer! I volunteered to staff the reference desk, but the director (who was awesome, BTW) insisted I go.

So I started taking in a movie on Christmas Eve. I usually picked one that would not have interested the spouse, and scheduled this around the church service I planned to attend. As the years went by, friends (usually the lonely hearts like me) started to join me for the Christmas Eve movie and we added a Chinese dinner somewhere during that day. When I no longer had the spouse the movie evolved into a multi-film festival.

VMS was the friend who really helped form this tradition. It was escapist for him as he worked through the grief and depression surrounding a particularly bitter divorce. One year he asked me if we could maybe not see a film with a beheading in it that year. That seemed like a strange request until I realized that films from the two previous years had featured guillotine scenes. That was the year that "Anna and the King" starrin g Jodie Foster was headlining the Christmas Eve Film Festival, and wouldn't you know that darker version of "The King and I" begins with a....beheading. Who knew?

I regret not keeping a list of movies I've seen over the years, but I remember "Slumdog Millionaire", "Australia", "Quills", "Brokeback Mountain", and "Memoirs of a Geisha" at the moment. Usually the festival consists of two films (and countless smuggled Christmas cookies), but some years there have been three. "Slumdog Millionaire" was the third of three that year. Usually I research movies meticulously, but this year so far I only have a vague idea of what is even playing. I have a hunch that "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo" will be on the docket, and many have recommended "Hugo." We'll see, because tomorrow three of us, and maybe four, will arrive at the AMC Hamilton for the 2011 C.E.F.F.!

Over the years, the C.E.F.F. has done its job, giving me something to look forward to in the bleakest years (like when Mom was failing and no longer remembered me), and catching me up on films that might be nominated for awards early in the next year. It's escapist to take my mind off of holiday-related troubles, but in happier times it's a way to do something fun with friends before they scurry off to be with their families. So if you're in the area tomorrow, you know where to find me!

Oh, and by the way, in case you're wondering why the days on this Advent calendar don't match the days of the month...I started the blog on the fourth Sunday before Christmas when Advent technically starts. That was November 27, so my numbers are four days ahead of the month of December. Most Advent calendars start on December 1, though, so when I re-work these posts into the upcoming ebook, I plan to arrange it in the standard 25 days. Also, I couldn't wait to get started with these posts, and decided to start in November.

Day Twenty-Six: Random Acts of Christmas Kindness Advent Calendar

2011-12-21T10:30:00.005-05:00

I give lots of jars of jam at holiday time. I enjoy picking berries in the summer and then making the jam although it is a very steamy job. This is not something you can whip up as a last-minute gift unless you actually have extra homemade jams and preserves, but you still have time to whip up a batch of applesauce. Next summer or early fall think about making some jams, preserves, salsa, or sauces for gifts. You'll be glad you have them come winter.

It is really easy to can jams and sauces provided you have the right equipment. You'll need a big pot with a wire canning insert, jars, lids (they have sealing stickum on them and can only be used once), screw-on bands, a wide-mouth funnel, and that gizmo for removing the jars from boiling water. These supplies are becoming scarce, but I find them in some grocery stores, hardware stores, Wal-Marts and K-Marts. The Ball Company is probably the leader in this field, and they have a good website for those who want to get started with this hobby: http://www.freshpreserving.com/getting-started.aspx I am a big fan of their cookbook especially for canning, and I actually have two editions of it! You can even get your supplies from that website if you can't find them in your local stores.

I like to pick my own fruit at Terhune Orchards in Princeton, and then make the jam or salsa that same day. If I don't have time to pick my own fruit, I like to visit the farmers' market for a big basket of fresh stuff. Here's a video I made a couple of years ago in the strawberry field:

Oh, and by the way, in case you're wondering why the days on this Advent calendar don't match the days of the month...I started the blog on the fourth Sunday before Christmas when Advent technically starts. That was November 27, so my numbers are four days ahead of the month of December. Most Advent calendars start on December 1, though, so when I re-work these posts into the upcoming ebook, I plan to arrange it in the standard 25 days. Also, I couldn't wait to get started with these posts, and decided to start in November.

Day Twenty-Five: Random Acts of Christmas Kindness Advent Calendar

2011-12-21T06:28:00.000-05:00

Many people at work today were talking about baking cookies, and what varieties of cookies they and their families would be making. I have my list of about five favorites, with some extras in case I don't run out of energy prematurely. One variety I haven't made in many years is the cornflake wreath with marshmallows and green food coloring. As I described them to some co-workers, their faces lit up with recognition. They remembered these from childhood (I discovered them much later) and told me they were all the rage some years back. And here I thought the green cornflake wreaths were my secret!

Brace yourself, these may seem too tacky, but I think they are just tacky enough and add some festive color to a tray of Christmas cookies. I'm in charge of supplying cookies for Christmas this year, and I want to include some of these to make my tray look extra festive. So reserve your judgment, or think of them as retro...

WREATH COOKIES
1/2 cup butter
3 cups mini marshmallows
1/2 teaspoon almond extract
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 teaspoon green food color
4 cups cornflakes

Melt butter, and add marshmallows. Stir, and when this mixture is smooth, add the extracts, coloring, and cornflakes. Make into wreath shapes on a wax-paper-lined cookie sheet. Decorate with red cinnamon candies and/or edible silver balls. Put them in the refrigerator until they hold together.

Oh, and by the way, in case you're wondering why the days on this Advent calendar don't match the days of the month...I started the blog on the fourth Sunday before Christmas when Advent technically starts. That was November 27, so my numbers are four days ahead of the month of December. Most Advent calendars start on December 1, though, so when I re-work these posts into the upcoming ebook, I plan to arrange it in the standard 25 days. Also, I couldn't wait to get started with these posts, and decided to start in November.

Day Twenty-Four: Random Acts of Christmas Kindness Advent Calendar

2011-12-20T08:00:00.000-05:00

Here's another story of kindness suggested by one of my readers. Thanks, LBM!
No Santa? Ridiculous!

I remember my first Christmas adventure with Grandma. I was just a kid.

I remember tearing across town on my bike to visit her on the day my big sister dropped the bomb: "There is no Santa Claus," she jeered. "Even dummies know that!"

My Grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled to her that day because I knew she would be straight with me. I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed with one of her "world-famous" cinnamon buns. I knew they were world-famous, because Grandma said so. It had to be true.

Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites, I told her everything. She was ready for me. "No Santa Claus?" she snorted...."Ridiculous! Don't believe it. That rumor has been going around for years, and it makes me mad, plain mad!! Now, put on your coat, and let's go."

"Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked. I hadn't even finished my second world-famous cinnamon bun. "Where" turned out to be Kerby's General Store, the one store in town that had a little bit of just about everything. As we walked through its doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars. That was a bundle in those days. "Take this money," she said, "and buy something for someone who needs it. I'll wait for you in the car." Then she turned and walked out of Kerby's.

I was only eight years old. I'd often gone shopping with my mother, but never had I shopped for anything all by myself. The store seemed big and crowded, full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping.

For a few moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and who on earth to buy it for.

I thought of everybody I knew: my family, my friends, my neighbors, the kids at school, the people who went to my church.

I was just about thought out, when I suddenly thought of Bobby Decker. He was a kid with bad breath and messy hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock's grade-two class. Bobby Decker didn't have a coat. I knew that because he never went out to recess during the winter. His mother always wrote a note, telling the teacher that he had a cough, but all we kids knew that Bobby Decker didn't have a cough; he didn't have a good coat. I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy Bobby Decker a coat!

I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It looked real warm, and he would like that.

"Is this a Christmas present for someone?" the lady behind the counter asked kindly, as I laid my ten dollars down. "Yes, ma'am," I replied shyly. "It's for Bobby."

The nice lady smiled at me, as I told her about how Bobby really needed a good winter coat. I didn't get any change, but she put the coat in a bag, smiled again, and wished me a Merry Christmas.

That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat (a little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma tucked it in her Bible) in Christmas paper and ribbons and wrote, "To Bobby, From Santa Claus" on it.

Grandma said that Santa always insisted on secrecy. Then she drove me over to Bobby Decker's house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever officially, one of Santa's helpers.

Grandma parked down the street from Bobby's house, and she and I crept noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his front walk. Then Grandma gave me a nudge. "All right, Santa Claus," she whispered, "get going."

I took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, threw the present down on his step, pounded his door and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma.

Together we waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to open. Finally it did, and there stood Bobby.

Fifty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments spent shivering, beside my Grandma, in Bobby Decker's bushes. That night, I realized that those awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said they were -- ridiculous. Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team.

I still have the Bible, with the coat tag tucked inside: $19.95.

It seems Santa's helpers really are everywhere. :) May we all take advantage of the gift of giving this Christmas season.

Day Twenty-Three: Random Acts of Christmas Kindness Advent Calendar

2011-12-19T06:00:00.002-05:00

Secret Santas are paying off Kmart layaway accounts.

This one brought me to tears. This heroin addict seems to have found the Christmas spirit.

I posted on Christmas lights earlier this Advent, but I didn't realize I was supposed to go to Richmond, VA, the Tacky Lights Capital.

Check out this Christmas tree for book lovers.

And to finish off this cyber-romp, a very sweet Christmas card.

Day Twenty-Two: Random Acts of Christmas Kindness Advent Calendar

2011-12-18T07:20:00.008-05:00

I jumped out of the van and hurried across the street, because there in front of us was Bethlehem's Live Advent Calendar! We were making our way through that Christmas City's traffic after a productive shopping experience at the Christkindlmarkt on the other side of town, across the river.

I had crossed the Advent Calendar off the to-do list since I didn't know where the Goundie House or even Donegal Square are, but we were enduring this traffic so we could explore the Christmas Village and the famous Moravian Bookstore.

But there was the costumed woman, just like on the video I saw online, with a festive crowd all around her. I jumped out of the van and made it over to the Goundie House in time to watch two little kids chosen from the crowd knock three times on the Goundie/Advent door. Out came the Advent surprise, a couple of singers and a soprano saxophonist, performing "Baby It's Cold Outside" and "Silver Bells." Each evening's performers are sponsored by a Bethlehem business. Last night's sponsor was Girlfriends Boutique, and representatives from that shop handed out goodie bags filled with candy (including SMARTIES!). One bag contained a special gift: a watch!

Alas, I was not the lucky winner, but I felt lucky enough happening upon the Advent calendar event by chance!

Day Twenty-one: Random Acts of Christmas Kindness Advent Calendar

2011-12-16T13:40:00.012-05:00

I like to go places at Christmastime. I like to go to places that are festively decorated and I like to go places that help me with my holiday shopping. There are not enough days in the week to visit all of my favorite places (and still make it to work every day), so I like to go to different places each year on sort of a rotating schedule. The people I go with seem to rotate, too. Sometimes there will be a friend in-between romances, or occasionally a newly-divorced or widowed friend. The best times are impromptu gatherings of available people, organized into a road (or train) trip to a festive place with a meal involved. Inevitably, a main topic of conversation will be traditions from families, friends, and in-laws, those traditions we hold dear and those we would rather skip.

Years ago, a bunch of us bought tickets for a presentation of Dickens' "A Christmas Carol" at the Madison Square Garden Theater. The performance was great--Roger Daltrey played Scrooge and moved through the theater's aisles passing within inches of our group. The lobby was decorated as a Dickens village and ushers and other personnel were costumed in colorful Victorian attire. It was festive. A few of us decided to take a later train home and wander about the city. We checked out decorations and visited the beautiful Christmas Tree and Nativity at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. We loved it so much, we went back the next week for more.

Another year, a newly-divorced friend was having a rough time at the holidays and suggested we put together a few people and go to Longwood Gardens, south of Philadelphia. We didn't have far to look for a couple of single folks who wouldn't have done such an excursion on their own. We piled in a VW Jetta, and off we went to Longwood. Those gardens are beautiful any time of year, but they go all out at Christmas with plants and lights and a well-stocked gift store. We all had a fabulous time even though not all of us knew each other well. It was festive and different.

Last year, I was lucky enough to attend a conference in Philadelphia in December. After the last grueling-but-fascinating day was over, we walked down to Wanamaker's-now-known-as-Macy's for that store's famous light show accompanied by the wonderful Wanamaker organ. This tradition for me dates back to college, not childhood like most of my friends from the area, but it counts as nostalgic just the same. After the show, we enjoyed exploring the Christmas Village temporarily installed next to City Hall.

This year, I've been to that Waltons' reunion in Jersey City with Fred, m erry Cape May with JWD, the Martels' Christmas Wonderland, and today Fred and I are heading to Bethlehem (America's Christmas City!) for the Christkindlmarkt. This is a treat indeed, and when we're finished I vow that this year's shopping will be finished. Readers of this blog might be interested to know that Bethlehem also has a Live Advent Calendar.

So my point is this: take time out of your busy holiday preparations to stop and smell the poinsettias. Think of people in your life who would enjoy a walk through a Christmas market, garden, museum, or festooned city, and consider how much such a trip might mean to them!

Day Twenty: Random Acts of Christmas Kindness Advent Calendar

2011-12-16T10:33:00.001-05:00

Today I'm sharing a story that brought tears to my eyes the first time I read it. Yes, it is one of those things that appears in your email inbox, and you may have already seen it...more than once. But the message fits right in with my Random Acts of Christmas Kindness Advent Calendar, so just in case you haven't seen it before, go get a Kleenex and read the story.

One day, when I was a freshman in high school, I saw a kid from my class was walking home from school. His name was Kyle. It looked like he was carrying all of his books.

I thought to myself, 'Why would anyone bring home all his books on a Friday? He must really be a nerd.'

I had quite a weekend planned (parties and a football game with my friends tomorrow afternoon), so I shrugged my shoulders and went on.

As I was walking, I saw a bunch of kids running toward him. They ran at him, knocking all his books out of his arms and tripping him so he landed in the dirt. His glasses went flying, and I saw them land in the grass about ten feet from him...

He looked up and I saw this terrible sadness in his eyes . My heart went out to him. So, I jogged over to him as he crawled around looking for his glasses, and I saw a tear in his eye.

As I handed him his glasses, I said, 'Those guys are jerks. They really should get lives.'

' He looked at me and said, 'Hey thanks!'

There was a big smile on his face. It was one of those smiles that showed real gratitude.

I helped him pick up his books, and asked him where he lived. As it turned out, he lived near me, so I asked him why I had never seen him before. He said he had gone to private school before now.

I would have never hung out with a private school kid before. We talked all the way home, and I carried some of his books.

He turned out to be a pretty cool kid. I asked him if he wanted to play a little football with my friends . He said yes.
We hung out all weekend and the more I got to know Kyle, the more I liked him, and my friends thought the same of him.

Monday morning came, and there was Kyle with the huge stack of books again. I stopped him and said, 'Boy, you are gonna really build some serious muscles with this pile of books everyday!

' He just laughed and handed me half the books.'

The next four years, Kyle and I became best friends. When we were seniors we began to think about college. Kyle decided on Georgetown and I was going to Duke. I knew that we would always be friends, that the miles would never
Be a problem. He was going to be a doctor and I was going for business on a football scholarship. Kyle was valedictorian of our class. I teased him all the time about being a nerd.

He had to prepare a speech for graduation. I was so glad it wasn't me having to get up there and speak .
Graduation day, I saw Kyle. He looked great. He was one of those guys that really found himself during high school.

He filled out and actually looked good in glasses. He had more dates than I had and all the girls loved him.
Boy, sometimes I was jealous! Today was one of those days.

I could see that he was nervous about his speech. So, I smacked him on the back and said, 'Hey, big guy, you'll be great!'

He looked at me with one of those looks (the really grateful one) and smiled....' Thanks,' he said.

As he started his speech, he cleared his throat, and began ...

'Graduation is a time to thank those who helped you make it through those tough years.

Your parents, your teachers, your siblings, maybe a coach...but mostly your friends....

I am here to tell all of you that being a friend to someone is the best gift you can give them.
I am going to tell you a story.'

I just looked at my friend with disbelief as he told the first day we met.

He had planned to kill himself over the weekend.

He talked of how he had cleaned out his locker so his Mom wouldn't have to do it later and was carrying his stuff home. He looked hard at me and gave me a little smile.

'Thankfully, I was saved. My friend saved me from doing the unspeakable.'

I heard the gasp go through the crowd as this handsome, popular boy told us all about his weakest moment.
I saw his Mom and dad looking at me and smiling that same grateful smile.

Not until that moment did I realize it's depth.

Never underestimate the power of your actions.

With one small gesture you can change a person's life. For better or for worse.

God puts us all in each others lives to impact one another in some way. Look for God in others.

So, since I'm an Information Literacy Librarian and I spend my days teaching students to FIND, EVALUATE, and USE information, I decided to check out this story on Snopes.com. If you're not familiar with Snopes, you can go here to check out stories and urban legends to see if they could possibly be credible. We teach college students to use the CRAAP test when they are evaluating information for their papers and presentations, meaning they should check any source for Currency, Relevance, Accuracy, Authority, and Purpose/objectivity.

Anyway, Snopes told me that no one knows who wrote this story and if it is true, but it is remarkably similar to a story that appeared in the book Chicken Soup for the Soul. Nevertheless, this parable appeals to our emotions and uses the element of surprise to effectively remind us that our acts of kindness reach farther than we'll ever know.

Day Nineteen: Random Acts of Christmas Kindness Advent Calendar

2011-12-14T20:05:00.005-05:00

Who doesn't enjoy critiquing neighborhood light displays this time of year? Everyone has their own ideas of what constitutes a tastefully decorated home and what crosses the line into over-the-top display probably designed to annoy the neighbors and conjure memories of the Griswald family in the movies. I've heard of some people Who include holiday lights in their holiday traditions. They load the kids in the car to drive around their neighborhood looking at lights. The family votes on their favorite display and then leaves a note for the owner announcing that their display was chosen Best in the Neighborhood. That must make the light artists feel good!

Lights are universal at Christmas, and although I'm partial to small, white, twinkly ornamental lights, I can appreciate the time, dedication, and patience that goes into a large display. It seems every neighborhood has some guy who goes bonkers with the lights in December, and in Hamilton it is Bob Martel. Every year for over 25 years, Mr. Martel decorates his front yard, his neighbor's front yard, his side yard and his backyard with thousands of lights, inflatables, and illuminated sheds and playhouses inhabited by Christmas scenes. Thousands of people visit every year, and usually the Martel family is hanging around outside the house greeting visitors walking through the yard.

This guy's Christmas spirit and kindness to the community does not waver, even after being injured. Last year, while getting the yard ready for the Big Display, Bob Martel fell off a ladder and landed on a fence. A fence post went through Mr. Martel! While he convalesced in the hospital, neighbors, friends, and family pulled together to get the house ready for the season. The local press covered this story.

So when you're riding around your neighborhood admiring (or NOT admiring) the lights, think about the time and dedication it took someone to create the display, and what kind of Christmas spirit is behind all that. We all share our spirit in different ways, right?

Day Eighteen: Random Acts of Christmas Kindness Advent Blog

2011-12-13T22:05:00.009-05:00

Music is such an important part of the season. (Yes, I know, sometimes it can be annoying like today in the doctor's office where I listened to a half-hour of rather loud country Christmas music.) But live music, that's another thing. When was the last time you took the time out of the busy season to attend a concert or other Christmas performance? This could involve an expensive but festive trip to a big city for a professional orchestral concert or a classic interpretation of Balanchine's "The Nutcracker" (maybe at Philadelphia's Academy of Music at left), or...

...think locally: schools, churches, and community organizations often offer live nativities, concerts and performances that will be just as festive and joyful as the professional kind, and much less of a hassle to get to. My Facebook friends around the country and beyond have been reporting attendance at these events and the resulting holiday joy. I am reminded of that insanely funny Christmas play in the movie "Simon
Birch"--do rent that if you haven't seen it! Take a child, the family, take an older person, or take a newly-single friend who might not have much to do around the holidays to some kind of performance. Musicians and actors experience joy when they share their craft (I know this first-hand and hear it from musicians all the time) and this makes for an uplifting experience. So, check around your community and enjoy something live!

Day Seventeen: Random Acts of Christmas Kindness Advent Calendar Blog

2011-12-12T20:34:00.006-05:00

So here's a cool idea if you're looking for something special to tuck in a Christmas card. A few years ago a cousin sent me a photo she had scanned. It shows me at about six or seven years old at a dinner sitting between my parents. I'm not sure what the event was, and I wonder what I was thinking at that moment, unaware of the camera. I think my father probably wants me to eat some of those green beans he's got in that bowl. He was big on vegetables. Any other people are cropped out, so there are no other clues. It's a cool candid shot of us, and unlike anything I have from that time. I really appreciated finding that photo in my Christmas card.

I send birthday cards to a cluster of people in the last few months of the year, so I stole my cousin's idea. I scoured some photograph albums for photos of them as kids, especially at birthday and holiday celebrations, and especially with grandparents and others who are now gone. I didn't send the originals--I scanned them and printed new photos on acid-free paper. I had fun paging through those albums like a detective looking for the coolest family shots I could find. The color had started to turn on one photo, so I changed it to black & white. That changed the whole feel of the photo and I thought it was a winner. One of the recipients is a scrapbooker and was overjoyed at this windfall.

So, there's still time. Find some photos for card recipients and print them out at home or at the store. Include them in your cards for a special surprise. Nice idea? I think so. I keep that surprise photo of little me with the 'rents in a frame in my living room.

Day Sixteen: Random Acts of Christmas Kindness Advent Calendar

2011-12-12T01:23:00.008-05:00

And now for something completely different, how about an easy recipe for something yummy and festive? My friend shared this recipe for White Chocolate Peppermint Bark a few years ago, and it's always a hit...

You need:

One 12-oz. package of white chocolate baking chips
7-8 crushed candy canes (I use a rolling pin)
One teaspoon peppermint flavoring

Melt the chocolate in a saucepan on the stove or in the microwave. When it is smooth, mix in the crushed candy canes and peppermint flavoring. Pour chocolate onto a wax-paper-lined cookie sheet. Spread out chocolate to about 1/4-inch thick. (It will probably not fill the whole sheet.) Cool in the fridge until hard, and then break into pieces. Peel away the wax paper.

Day Fifteen: Random Acts of Christmas Kindness Advent Calendar

2011-12-11T07:10:00.001-05:00

This video is so fantastically perfect for this blog that I do not need to say anything else. Please take a few minutes to watch!

Video from KarmaTube

Day Fourteen: Random Acts of Christmas Kindness Advent Calendar

2011-12-10T08:42:00.006-05:00

Christmas cards are one of my favorite parts of the holiday. When I reassessed the parts of the holiday as a newly-single person about a decade ago, I realized that receiving cards, especially those with notes and photos, meant a lot to me. I hang them up on my hall closet doors and enjoy them well into January. I always save those photos of kids and use them in my Christmas scrapbook pages. To those who know me as not-so-much a 'kid' person, this may seem surprising, but I really do like to watch how the kids change over the years. My mother used to save the Christmas card photos in her albums, and I was fascinated by this phenomenon then, too. One proud mom seemed to send Mom photos of her boy a few times a year, and we would giggle over that one--I never met him, and I am not sure my mom ever did, either, but we had a thorough record, with annotations, of his early years.

I don't have photos of kids to share, but as a scrapbooker and a person who enjoys photography, I do like to create my own cards. Last year I used holiday and snowy photos big enough to take up the whole front of the card, but this year I'm into the scrappy look, with bits of repurposed paper, stickers, and maybe smaller photos. I hand-write stuff with my favorite Sharpie Pens and sometimes shoot messages out of my labelmaker. The cards are all different. Some of them are created with a specific person in mind, and some are just created to please me aesthetically.

This weekend my mobility is temporarily compromised by minor foot surgery, and I am looking forward to creating many of these cards. (It's a minor inconvenience and there's hardly any pain.) I'm not sure everyone will appreciate this style, but they will be different from the others crisscrossing the country. Creating them brings me joy!

Day Thirteen: Random Acts of Christmas Kindness Advent Calendar

2011-12-08T22:38:00.008-05:00

A couple of years ago, I attended a one-day conference on pet writing in New York City. The conference was in February, right before the Westminster Kennel Club's big Dog Show in Madison Square Garden. David Frei, one of the announcers for the show, was a speaker. He told many great stories from people he has met over the years that he's been affiliated with dog shows, but the story I remember best concerned taking dogs to visit residents in a nursing home. I forget what breed it was, but Frei took the dog to visit a man who rarely got visitors. Not surprisingly, the resident was thrilled by the visit, and greeted the dog with an enthusiastic "Hello, you knucklehead!" As Frei and the dog were leaving after the visit, the man's demeanor turned very serious as he asked Frei, "Please take good care of my dog, okay?" Well, it seems that this man once had a dog of the very same breed and he thought this was his own dog. This story brought everyone at the conference to tears. Anyone who has ever had a loved one with dementia will find it especially poignant. But think of it from the man's perspective: how much joy did that visit bring into his lonely routine at that depressing environment? Wow.

I have a friend who shares her canine friend with the residents of a local nursing home. She's humble and doesn't talk about it much, but this act of giving and kindness makes me admire her more than she'll ever know. I promise myself I'll do this someday with Gladys (right), but so far I think it is too soon after the loss of my own parents, both of whom spent their last days in nursing homes. Do you know of any friendly dogs that might like to visit some older dog lovers? Here is some information from the parent of a certified Visiting Dog. I would love to hear your stories if you do!

Day Twelve: Random Acts of Christmas Kindness Advent Calendar

2011-12-07T21:16:00.010-05:00

Normally, I wouldn't advocate stealing a car, ever. But consider this story: I used to know two guys, Joe and Frank. Joe was Frank's father-in-law. One time, Joe and his wife went off to New York City on the train for a show and some shopping. When they came home, the car was in a different place, it seemed cleaner, and was it running smoother, too? Yup, Frank "borrowed" Joe's car, washed it, vacuumed it, changed the oil, and returned it to the train station parking lot. He may have even done the brakes, too, I'm not sure. It took a while for Joe to figure out what had happened, but when he did he and his wife were touched by Frank's thoughtfulness. He talked about that gesture for years afterwards. I thought it was thoughtful, too--I heard this story a long time ago and never forgot it. Both Joe and Frank are gone now, and both are remembered as exceptionally thoughtful family men. Both of them loved Christmas and decked their homes with lights and trees and train sets and plenty of gifts and food.

Understand please, that you cannot perform this act of kindness upon just anyone. This one is reserved for kids, spouses, partners, or parents. Find the car keys, sneak out to the car wash, fill it with gas, change the oil (or have it changed), and return it to the spot in which you found it. Who has time to do this stuff to their own car this time of year?

So just in case you happen to know where I keep my keys, I think I'm up-to-date with oil changes and my tank is half-full. I could sure use a wash and vacuum, though. That red car above is mine, pictured on the Cape May Ferry. Thanks!

Day Eleven: Random Acts of Christmas Kindness Advent Calendar

2011-12-06T22:19:00.011-05:00

So what's your favorite Christmas music? What CDs or albums can you not live without? What music defines the season for you? I asked my coworkers and Facebook friends those questions, and most of them responded with music they remember from childhood: the Partridge Family's Christmas album, The Carpenters' Christmas album, Barbra Streisand's Christmas album, The Kingston Trio, The Lettermen, and Mitch Miller were all mentioned. Nat King Cole's "Christmas Song" is apparently the definitive version of that tune, and Perry Como is essential, in some families called upon to kick off the season. The Chipmunks were playing at a craft show I shopped at this week--do people really listen to that stuff voluntarily? One of Cousin Janet's favorites from childhood is Andy Williams because her last name was Williams, too. She'd tell her friends at school that she was going to be on Uncle Andy's TV special, and when they reported they hadn't seen her she explained that she was in the back row and they couldn't see her because she's little. I loved hearing these stories!

My story is much different. I started playing the clarinet at age ten, and every year thereafter, until I was roughly 22, I played holiday (Christmas and whatnot) music in band. Typically, we'd start practicing it in the fall for the big winter concerts, and by October I was thoroughly sick of it. (I did like "Sleigh Ride" because it's challenging.) I worked many years of retail while going to grad school and then the other grad school, so I've done my time with holiday Muzak in these retail establishments. So now you know my dirty little secret: I really cannot stand the stuff!

Okay, that's harsh. I do enjoy when artists I like perform Christmas music. There's Bruce Springsteen, of course. "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" and "Merry Christmas, Baby" are my two top favorites and they sort of signal the beginning of the holiday for me. Another top favorite is a bootleg I have of Joe Perry from Aerosmith (be still my heart) singing a very guitarish Christmas song.

I discovered Christmas on the Ponderosa at my public library and was thrilled to find it still in print. So I bought it and I listen to the Cartrights singing every year. Adam Cartright is the best singer, by the way. They joke around and welcome visitors to the Ponderosa ranch and drink gallons of eggnog. This CD is kitsch at its finest in my opinion.

I adored Brian Setzer in his Rockabilly 1980s Stray Cats days, and I was thrilled when he started performing swing with a big band later on. I loved playing swing music, and my dream came true when I found a friend willing to take swing dancing lessons with me. Our class outing to a real ballroom happened around Christmastime, and by then we were swinging without counting--you know, really feeling it. Wow. I WAS June Allyson in The Glenn Miller Story. So of course I really like Setzer's swank, swinging Christmas album. ("Dig that Crazy Christmas!") Look at that cover art!

I developed a taste for Johnny Cash later in life partly because he guest-starred on one of my favorite shows (Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman), and partly because a dear friend created an old-school country CD for me to prove that all country music is not heinous (and the rockabilly Cash tunes are my favorites on that), and partly because of the movie with Joaquin Phoenix and Reese Witherspoon. So when I saw that CD cleverly merchandised by a cash register a couple of years ago, I snapped it up. And I like it.

Strangely, unlike everyone who told me about their favorite holiday music today, my favorites are not from childhood. My Partridge Family Christmas LP is long gone, and the stuff my parents played never appealed to me. Whenever I play these favorite CDs, I am filled with happy -recent- memories. Music has that power to remind us of where we were and what was going on in our lives when we first heard it, or it can create a festive mood with jingle bells or organ harmonics or warm and tender Como vocals. (Although I can never help thinking of that comedian who did that bit where Como was in a coma while performing and needed an IV while lying flat on the stage.) Speaking of Como, I don't mind this one too much probably because it's 'in three' (waltz time--I like to waltz, too) and it moves along at a clip. I like the images in this video, too.

So who on your Christmas list is getting some new Christmas music this year?

Day Ten: Random Acts of Christmas Kindness Advent Calendar

2011-12-06T06:25:00.006-05:00

Do you decorate your door for Christmas? Did you ever notice how people put a lot of effort into decorating their door? I'm sure this tradition got its start in order to welcome people to the home, but it also provides a gateway to the holiday hospitality a visitor might find inside. I was shooting doors in Cape May this weekend...

And then there's the practice of decorating the office door. I haven't noticed any of these at my work yet--people are very busy this time of year there. I did notice when we moved into this office that there is an electrical outlet right next to the door should we decide to light the thing up. Until we do, here's a cute video from someone else's workplace to illustrate the custom of optimizing workplace holiday productivity and creativity:

Day Nine: Random Acts of Christmas Kindness Advent Calendar

2011-12-05T07:09:00.008-05:00

Today I am stepping up onto my soapbox to preach to you the importance of doing corny stuff at Christmas. Define corny? I'm thinking of things that were probably intended for kids and are filled with holiday cliches and tired old secular tunes we've heard a million times. These things are important to our psyche this time of year, and in my humble opinion, when we play along our minds just might be filled with cheer and humor.

Consider for example the West Cape May Christmas Parade. Most years I simply blow that off. I ignore it. Why bother? This year curiosity and a parade-loving friend got the best of me. Friends, I enjoyed this event, and not just because marchers were throwing candy at me. That was fun, I'll admit. The kids marching with their scout troups or dance studios were so proud and so excited. Marching band members and Philadelphia Mummers cheerfully played their holiday tunes, on decorated instruments, grateful for the unseasonably warm weather. However, those of us sitting still on the Perry Street curb were "chilled to the bone" after a couple hours. Yes friends, this little parade continued on and on for over two hours with dance troups and marching bands, lit-up fire engines and festive floats. JWD and I were not expecting a parade of this magnitude in little ol' West Cape May, and we had not pre-eaten. We were starving by the time we left with frozen toes, and we hadn't even seen the end of the parade. But we laughed and remembered to each other our favorite elements ("Remember the red-nosed dolphin?! How clever was that?!) that evening and into the next day. I am so glad we went. (Note to self: next year wear more socks and bring the tripod.)

My Friday night activity could be considered corny by some, as well. You'll remember I posted about the Waltons' 40th Reunion at the Loews Jersey in Jersey City. What a treat that was! All seven children were there, and Mama, annd a nice assortment of actors from the TV show and the original "Homecoming" movie. There was a tribute to Patricia Neal who played the mother in the movie (and wasn't even asked to join the TV cast), and a lengthy Q&A with the actors. Richard Thomas, AKA John Boy, read "'Twas the Night Before Christmas" and Jon Walmsey and Judy Norton (Jason and Mary Ellen) ended the evening with some tunes. I hadn't seen "The Homecoming" in roughly forty years, and it's much different perceived through middle-aged eyes. Again there was starvation because CFP and I didn't expect the program to go until 11:00pm, but those White Castle cheeseburgers and fries eaten in the vehicle on the NJ Turnpike were scrumptious.

Lesson learned: corny is fun, corny makes memories. Do the corny stuff with an open mind and happy heart. I'll now step off my soapbox and get ready for tomorrow's blogpost.

Day Eight: Random Acts of Christmas Kindness Advent Calendar

2011-12-04T10:07:00.000-05:00

This is the season we tend to do a lot of shopping. I was happy to see a coordinated effort this past weekend to bring attention to small businesses (Small Business Saturday) and indie artisans (Plaid Friday). I just read this great article in the Atlantic City Press about New Jerseyans shopping small. Why not support local artisans and crafters at co-ops, church bazaars, or craft shows? There are SO MANY of them around, and they are loaded with original gift and decoration ideas.

I've blogged before about the West End Garage in West Cape May, New Jersey. This is an artisans' co-op in a repurposed mechanic's garage. They feature their member artists and artisans every month and run lots of special events. It is a great place to find fantastic gifts, and I love knowing that the creators live in the neighborhood! I picked up some great stuff there yesterday, but I can't tell you what's in that bag to the left for obvious reasons. The lady at the register apologized for the long line, but it's actually fun in a place like that to watch the people in front of me and see what they bought. The guy just in front of me spent $650--I wish I had paid a little more attention to what he bought!!

This is another of my favorite events, and this one takes place where I work: Students and lab assistants from the Department of the Arts at Bucks County Community College in Newtown, PA, hold an Annual Holiday Sale featuring handcrafted ceramics, glass, jewelry, prints and wood. This year's sale is on Tue. Dec 6th and Wed. Dec 7th from 10am-6pm in the Rollins Building's Solarium. I have only one item hanging around to photograph from this sale since I've given all the rest of what I've bought away! But here's my little bowl, currently holding some yarn scraps. I paid less than ten bucks for this bowl. I use it all the time and I just love its simplicity. (Please note I photo-bombed my own illustration there--that's me getting ready to go on a boat tour of San Francisco Bay a few years ago.)

[Just in case you didn't know, I have an Etsy shop here where I sell greeting cards I make. I rarely put advertisements on my blog, so please don't be offended by that plug, but it's relevant to the topic of this post. Take a look!]

So wherever you live, search out places where artists sell their stuff. It's a rewarding experience to buy carefully-made, carefully-selected gifts from them, and even more rewarding to give the gifts. People tend to like thoughtful, handmade gifts, ya know? (And don't forget yourself!)

Day Seven: Random Acts of Christmas Advent Calendar

2011-12-02T10:15:00.009-05:00

My excessive chatter about how much joy this Advent Calendar blog is bringing me has prompted another great story suggestion. This story is from my friend's minister, Rev. Mardy von Harten, who was kind enough to type out the story for us. Enjoy this story--I think it is a perfect match for this blog project. Thank you, Rev. von Harten!!

My first wife, Eileen, was in heart failure from sarcoidosis and in need of a transplant. Just before Christmas in December of 1989 I was struggling with all of the emotions and frustrations that come with having been told by the cardiologists that without a transplant Eileen would not survive and that her time was limited. She was down to 86 pounds in weight and could not walk ten steps without being totally out of breath. I went to the mall to search for a Christmas gift for Eileen as well as for our four year old son, Peter. I was emotionally distraught at the prospect of losing a wife I dearly loved and having to deal with the prospect of being a single parent. The crowds were maddening at the mall with people bumping into each other and being rude and impatient with employees. I spent hours looking for a gift to no avail when I found myself in the midst of a huge crowd at Macy's Department Store, totally frustrated. All of a sudden, beyond and above all of the chatter in the store I heart the faint but beautiful sounds of the carol, "Away in a Manger," coming from what I thought was a music box. I fought through the crowds straining to hear where the music was coming from. The notes were clearly tugging at my heart and I pressed on trying to find the source of the music. After what seemed like the longest five minutes of my life I finally found myself in the midst of a beautiful Christmas display at Macy's and there near the base of a beautifully decorated Christams tree was a porcelain angel figurine ringing out the tender notes of "Away in a Manger." I stood there and broke into tears and sobbed for several minutes never having been so moved in my life with a simple message of God's love for me. God truly led me to this divine encounter and in the midst of the hustle and bustle of the season and deep spiritual need God enabled my ears to be open to this intervention. I purchased the Angel and it was as much a gift for myself as for my wife and my son. We rejoiced when Eileen was able to have her heart transplant at Temple University Hospital and God blessed us with ten more years together.

Every year during Advent and Christmas the Angel comes out and we have never had a more precious gift and reminder of God's special presence and nearness. We have discoverd that God always reveals himself when our eyes, our ears, and especially our hearts are open to his loving presence.

--Rev. Mardy von Harten, Allentown, PA.

Day Six: Random Acts of (not necessarily) Christmas Kindness Advent Calendar

2011-12-01T09:29:00.011-05:00

I am so excited about tonight. You're going to think I'm goofy when I tell you what I'm doing, but I'm hoping you'll hold off on forming your opinion until I explain why this means so much to me. One of the things I like to do during Advent is to visit special places that recognize the joy of the season: Longwood Gardens, the Bethlehem Christkindlmarkt, Winterthur, the entire island of Manhattan, Wanamaker's (Macy's) Holiday Light Show in Philadelphia, you get the picture. Some of these might seem cheesy or tired-out, but they always evoke happy memories of past holidays and the people I shared them with. (Do you know someone who would enjoy such a trip in coming weeks? Just asking...might be a nice thing to do for someone...) I'm looking forward to Bethlehem in a couple of weeks, but tonight, tonight...

Fred and I are going to see the 40th anniversary showing of "The Homecoming" at the Loews Jersey Theater in Jersey City, New Jersey. I was eight when this movie came out, and it was the first time I saw my new favorite seven children, all with the last name Walton. (They replaced, for about ten years, my previous favorite seven children, all with the last name von Trapp.) Yup, this Christmas movie was the beginning of the wonderful TV show, "The Waltons" which began in 1972. Grandma and all the kids from the movie transitioned to the TV show, but different adults were cast for TV. Tonight...even better than just viewing the movie again...get ready: ALL SEVEN CHILDREN PLUS MICHAEL LEARNED, THEIR TV MOM, ARE SCHEDULED TO APPEAR AT THE THEATER! I. Am. So. Excited. Remember, don't judge me.

So here's why this event means SO MUCH to me. Back in 1971, when the series began, I sat and watched it with my parents and Bambi the dog. Both of my parents lived through the Great Depression and World War II (both were Vets), and as the Walton family dealt with their challenges, my parents would tell their own stories from those times. Dad was a country boy on the Louisiana bayou and then a city boy in Chicago about John Boy's age, and Mom was a city girl in Brooklyn around Erin's age. They were green before it was popular, and never joined the throw-away society we're used to today. "Waste not; want not." I learned so much from the perfect storm of Waltons and Montets. But my interest waned as I got older and I didn't watch the show as much in the later years.

Then, one summer during college, I was living at home and working at a movie theater in Wildwood in the evenings. I went to the beach everyday. My father had had a debilitating stroke a few years before and really couldn't do much besides watch TV. He couldn't riff on Depression and WWII stories anymore because he could no longer speak. This time was very difficult for him since he was very active pre-stroke. There wasn't much I could do, but he liked me to be around. So every day, in-between the beach and the movie job, I'd sit and watch a rerun of The Waltons with my father. I remember the World War II episodes that summer. One day, during a scene where all four Walton boys, each in their different military uniform, walked down that dirt road away from their home and into the world, I saw my father sob. I had never seen that before and would never see that again. My mother explained later that the scene reminded him of himself and his own three brothers, each in a different military uniform, leaving their home near Chicago for points unknown during World War II. That experience, of seeing my father so touched by these Walton characters, taught me so much about my father and his life-defining experience of the war. I'll never forget it.

So lately I've been watching Waltons reruns on the Hallmark Channel and the Gospel Music Channel (GMC). I watch them after work, and I watch them sometimes on the weekends when those networks treat me to a themed marathon. I feel closer to my parents who are gone now when I watch those seven kids, and their spouses, parents, friends, and the next generation. Tonight the little girl in me will be imagining two guardian angels sitting on her shoulders watching the event with me. I might sob or I might melt into a puddle of goo if I actually see John Boy or Ben or Jason up close, but no matter what happens, even if most of the Walton kids don't actually show up, this is going to be quite a memory.

I will leave with one bit of trivia that I learned from the IMDb Movie Database: remember when Lorelei and Sooki bought what they would name the Dragonfly Inn in the show The Gilmore Girls (another of my favorites)? The exterior of the inn was the exterior of the actual Waltons' house from the TV series!

Day Five: Random Acts of (not necessarily) Christmas Kindness Advent Calendar

2011-11-30T21:57:00.006-05:00

It's still early in the season, so why not make your own Advent calendar? In fact, most store-bought Advent calendars start with December 1 so you're not even late if you start counting now. You don't have to be a sewer or a woodworker, either. There are tons of ideas online: use ready-made objects such as matchboxes or baby socks, burlap bags or paper bags. You'll need 25 of them numbered 1-25. If you are a tech-savvy individual, create something electronic. Inside each or behind each door put a little toy, candy, photo memory, Bible verse, or take a cue from this blog and plant a good deed suggestion in each (cleaning up trash in the neighborhood, visiting folks in a nursing home, volunteering at a shelter).

Here's a little history: Advent calendars began in Germany in the mid-1800s as a way to count down to Christmas. The first calendars used pictures and candles, and later on the kind we know with little doors were printed. These calendars had only 24 days--the last was to be opened on Christmas Eve--and 24-day calendars are still found in Europe. Twenty-five-day calendars are primarily found in the United States. The religious season of Advent, though, starts on the fourth Sunday before Christmas. I started this blog on the fourth Sunday before, but I could have waited until today.

In looking for ideas for how to arrange my little Advent doors (number 5 above, for example) in a more permanent way, I found some amazing clever ideas. Try Googling "Advent Calendar ideas." Or hit that Better Homes and Gardens site here: http://www.bhg.com/christmas/crafts/advent-calendars/I found a French Advent calendar that has holiday-related vocabulary, songs, and puzzles in French for each day of Advent: http://french.about.com/library/blxm-adventcalendar.htm What a great way to practice language skills! I would love to see what kinds of Advent Calendars you come up with!

Remember that the original idea of Advent is to make ready for the birth of Jesus by making the world and ourselves better. Even if we don't subscribe to that line of religious thinking, we can strive to be more mindful of the things we do for the important people in our lives and our communities. The transformative spirit of the season is there no matter what we believe, don't you think?

Day Four: Random Acts of (not necessarily) Christmas Advent Calendar

2011-11-29T09:38:00.011-05:00

I knew it! I knew when I started this project that readers would suggest content for me because there are so many examples of kindness and humility in the world that illustrate the "Random Acts" idea. I wouldn't have to look hard to find them once I started paying attention. This morning a friend told me about a church in Philadelphia that shares soup with hungry men and women of the community. I knew right away before she told me that this had to be St. Mark's on Locust Street!

I used to live down the street from this church in Center City Philadelphia, and I walked past it at least once every day on my way home from work, or the grocery store, or my friend's apartment. St. Mark's is a gorgeous building inside and out. I attended a few chamber music concerts in that glorious venue over the years. How nice that they made the church available for concerts! The well-tended garden seemed to me an oasis of tranquility in the bustling city. The place is remarkable, so I knew when my friend mentioned the soup ministry that it had to be St. Mark's.

So here's what makes the St. Mark's Saturday Soup Bowl special: volunteers from the community bring in batches of soup and it's heated up there in the church kitchen by more volunteers. They have a soup calendar on their website so that all of the volunteers are making the same kind of soup every week and it can be combined at the church. There is a link on the church's site for the official soup cookbook. I just think this is genius! The volunteers get to know their guests and it just sounds to me like a perfect example of people helping people. This goes on year 'round, not just at holiday time. I'm inspired by this.

P.S. You know that if you see some text up there in a different color that it is probably a link to something relevant, right? I'm just asking that because the St Mark's Church website is worth looking at and I linked to it twice!

Day Three: Random Acts of Christmas Kindness Advent Calendar

2011-11-28T14:38:00.007-05:00

I'm not an expert on what fills people with the Christmas Spirit, but I am an expert on what works for me! A few years ago I started a new chapter of my life and I decided to start a new Christmas tradition of my own. I admired New York's Metropolitan Museum of Art's Christmas Tree and creche years ago. No, more accurately, it took my breath away the first time I saw it maybe fifteen years ago.

I had no aspirations of having a nativity scene quite like that, but I loved the idea of collecting figures of regular people like the rug seller and the fruit-selling girl, and little items like the battery-operated light-up campfire and whatnot. I decided this would be my new Christmas tradition to represent the true meaning of the season. I started with the Fontanini five-inch Holy Family and promised myself I'd add to the collection every year. Setting up this scene and enjoying it are Random Acts of Kindness for myself, like a touchstone to ground myself to what is truly important about the holiday.The creche is growing as you can see. This year's addition will be the angel who floats above the scene (somehow attached to the peak of the stable's roof) and holding a banner that says GLORIA! She has not arrived yet. You may notice something about this creche that you've never seen in any other. Yes, that is an oompah band over there, purchased in Rothenburg, Germany, the most awesome Christmas town in Europe. Those Germans where not intended for the nativity, but when I realized they were the same size I couldn't resist inviting them to join. There are three of them, and that only made me more sure they belonged with the three wise men, the three shepherds and the three members of the Holy Family. Three is an important number in religion...I'm sure you knew that.

So the reason for this post is this: you may have a special ornament or holiday item that you don't bother bringing out every year. You should take the time to display it and enjoy it. Or if like me, you're starting a new chapter, treat yourself to a new tradition. Today, it's all about YOU! And I wouldn't mind hearing about your own special decorations and traditions!

Day Two: Random Acts of Christmas Kindness Advent Calendar

2011-11-27T19:31:00.009-05:00

I used to know a woman who had a daughter and a daughter-in-law, and the three of them would exchange handmade gifts at Christmastime. I was little when I knew them, before I learned to sew and crochet and knit...come to think of it the woman was the first to attempt to teach me to knit. (I'm more of a crocheter thanks to my Grandma. She got to me early.) The gifts these ladies would create with their own hands amazed me. They weren't fancy, and probably didn't cost much. They were clever and heartfelt, though. And although they were handmade, they didn't look homemade.

It's in that spirit that I'm sharing these quilted cotton coasters. They are an easy craft that a quilter once showed our group. They don't require much skill, and can easily be stitched by hand or machine. Keep your stitches straight and neat so that each coaster comes out the same size. So watch this video we taped yesterday in my dining room/Santa's Workshop, and try to make some cute coasters. Naturally you can make these in any fabric, for other holidays or to match a decor. And one more thing I forgot to say in the video: before you stitch, put the fabric squares right-sides-together and place the batting square on top.

You might notice that these coasters look a lot like the Advent Calendar doors that are at the top of these posts. mmm hmmm.

Day One: Random Acts of Christmas Kindness Advent Calendar

2011-11-26T09:58:00.007-05:00

That's door number one of the Random Acts of Christmas Kindness Advent Calendar blog, and if you look closely at the button doorknob, you can see me in pajamas taking the photo. Okay, you can't really tell i'm wearing pajamas, but it's still kind of goofy. Now, back to Advent...

This story touched me almost as much as it did the recipient. No, I was not the random-act-of-kindness doer, but the recipient is a good friend of mine. Her family was going through one of those rough patches where there never seems to be enough money to cover all the bills. One day she received an anonymous card in the mail with a grocery store gift card inside! That thoughtful gift helped that family make their holiday dinner even more special.

The recipient tells me she doesn't know who sent the card. She did a bit of detective work and discovered where the gift card was purchased. That narrowed the field considerably, but she pursued the mystery no further. The giver wished to be anonymous after all.

I love this story because it happened to someone I really like. The giver displayed true humility, a quality difficult to define but obvious when you see it!

The Random Acts of Christmas Kindness Advent Calendar

2011-11-26T09:07:00.006-05:00

"You can't sit around counting what you're missing. You have to count what you have. that way you can have a Happy Thanksgiving either way."

John Walton (the dad) gave Elizabeth (the youngest child) this advice on a Thanksgiving episode of my current favorite show, "The Waltons." Yes, I realize that this show originally aired in the 1970s, but the GMC channel shows a few episodes every evening. I watched it then, and I watch it almost everyday now. "The Waltons" has meant a lot to me over the years--long story short, I learned a lot about my parents by watching the show with them as a little kid in the 1970s or as a young adult in the mid 1980s when reruns were shown at 4:00pm in the summer. Both of my parents were shaped by the Great Depression and World War II, and this show started a lot of conversations about those events and my parents' experiences of them. Dad would have been about John Boy's age, and my mom would have been about Erin's age.

Elizabeth Walton was feeling blue in this episode because few of her older siblings were going to be home for the Thanksgiving. Many people do feel down during the holidays because loved ones have died or moved away, and we feel lost in all the family-centered chaos building up to the actual holidays. (Notice how I smoothly switched to the first-person pronoun there.) When I start feeling this way, it helps me to find some quiet time to reflect on what is really important to me, and what defines the holidays to me.

Christmas cards from people I haven't heard from since last Christmas? Yes. Staying up really, really late, exhausted, to bake ten different kinds of cookies? No. Setting up my nativity scene? Yes. Decorating every square inch of my abode? No.

Over the years I have collected some great ideas that for me define the season and fill me with "Christmas spirit." I'm calling it Christmas because that is what I celebrate, but the motivation here is not necessarily, exclusively Christian. I thought I might share those stories, deeds, and things that help me stay in touch with that spirit. I'll post one each day as a kind of Advent calendar. In case you don't know, Advent is the season leading up to Christmas. Some people start it on December 1, and others start on the fourth Sunday before Christmas which this year would be November 27. I did a little online research with my friend Google on Advent and found some great ideas for calendars to make yourself. Better Homes and Gardens has a great collection of ideas which you can look at here: http://www.bhg.com/christmas/crafts/advent-calendars/. Martha Stewart made one out of festive baby socks: http://www.marthastewart.com/270492/baby-sock-advent-calendar. Each calendar has a door or envelope or sock concealing a small toy, candy, or special message for every day in the Advent season. Pictured left is a typical calendar you might buy in a store. I've started working on an advent calendar of my own related to this blog project, and I'll post a photo when it is finished.

I hope you will visit this blog everyday starting tomorrow as I open the door on an idea to define the season. I would love to hear your ideas and stories too!

The Charming Churches of Cape May Point

2011-11-13T08:49:00.013-05:00

We wandered around Cape May Point yesterday, a bright, sunny, dry and windy day. I called it a perfect kite-flying day, but the clerk at the hardware store called it a perfect exterior painting day. Both of of us turned out to be correct according to to evidence presented by the citizens of Cape May Point. They were flying kites and painting fences, riding bikes and raking leaves. We carried Joe Jordan's book, Cape May Point: Three Walking Tours of Historic Cottages, but only for reference. We agreed to go in search of Cape May Point's churches, picking and choosing parts of the three tours in the book.

Saint Agnes's Catholic Church was our first, just across from the Cape May Point General Store. This Carpenter-Gothic style church was built around 1885. It was expecting an early afternoon wedding luckily for us, so we were able to peek inside at the gorgeous stained glass.

The Beadle Memorial Presbyterian Church is just across from St. Agnes on Cape Avenue. Its namesake, Rev. Beadle, was John Wanamaker's pastor back home in Philadelphia at the First Presbyterian Church there (21st and Walnut Streets). Yes, that is the same John Wanamaker from department store fame--he was an early resident of Cape May Point! Beadle Memorial was built around 1882 in the Stick style popular then. It was moved twice (in 1920 and 1966) before landing in its present location, because the of the encroaching pre-duned ocean. Many of the buildings in Cape May Point used to be at different locations but many others were lost to storms and flooding. The Joe Jordan book has some vintage photos of some of these lost Victorian beauties.

Another Stick-style church, St. Peter's-by-the-Sea, is probably the most-photographed building in Cape May Point. This church was purchased from the 1876 Centennial Exhibition in Philadelphia, disassembled, moved to Cape May Point, assembled at another location, and finally moved to this triangular, picket-fenced site. Fred chatted-up the guy painting the picket fence supports yesterday (it was a perfect day for that kind of thing).

St. Peter's Beach is just across from the church, and is one of the hot birding spots in Cape May Point which is in itself a really hot birding spot, globally speaking. I had to veer off the church tour to peak at the ocean.
Union Chapel was the last church we visited. This is not the original non-denominational Union Chapel, but was built around 1900. I'm not sure what "soaking" is, but signs were attempting to entice us to one. We resisted.

Lastly, the iconic St. Mary's-by-the-Sea, purchased for $9,000 for the Sisters of St. Joseph around the turn of last century. Originally, this was the swank Shoreham Hotel. When the nuns took over, the Shoreham's ballroom was changed into a chapel and the building's name was changed to St. Mary's-by-the-Sea. This was to honor the priest from St. Mary's in Philadelphia who facilitated the purchase.

When our walking was finished, we stopped to rest at Lake Lily, the centerpiece of Cape May Point, and yet another hot birding spot.

"What's in it for Me?": Formulating a Pre-Holiday Shopping Strategy

2011-10-16T11:32:00.010-04:00

Whenever I teach or deliver a conference presentation, I imagine the class or audience asking "What's in it for me?" This little trick helps me stay on-track and produce what we call the 'takeaway', the nugget(s) people remember whether or not they remember my main point, the snazzy outfit I was wearing, or my messed-up hair. The "What's in it for me?" trick works in writing, too. Sometimes it is obvious as in which museum or restaurant to visit in a destination-based article, and sometimes it is less explicit as in a presentation tip used as the introduction to a post about the pre-holiday season at the shore.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that when the weather turns crispy, the nostalgic, holiday-inspired, travel writer's thoughts turn to her favorite pre-holiday hang-out. Of course mine is Cape May. I've written before how the Dickensian Christmas there tends to shape up just after Thanksgiving to fill me with holiday joy. This is around the same time that my busy fall schedule starts to relax and permit me to enjoy the season there. This year--and this is the 'takeaway' from this post--I've been planning my end-of-year gift shopping strategy. (Note: I've linked to a bunch of websites here, so if the text is a different color, click on it!)

1. The West End Garage. OMG, I love this place! Since I added this to my list of Cape May must-visit-each-trip list, I have never been at a loss for a gift idea. Everything here is unique. I've heard rumors that they have events there, too, for instance to help men shop for women (but really how could you go wrong here?). I blogged about it this summer for n j.com.

2. Jersey Shore Alpacas. This little alpaca farm just north of Cape May is run by Jim and Tish Carpinelli, two of the friendliest people in the universe. On Saturdays, they welcome visitors and even supply carrots to feed to the alpacas. This is fun for all ages, even the grinchiest. They have a small alpaca shop where they sell luxurious alpaca yarn (some from their own alpacas), and it's worth noting that this yarn does not irritate skin that is sensitive to sheep wool. If you don't knit or crochet or need a gift for someone who does, they also have garments and other items made from alpaca yarn. Most items were made especially for this shop by Tish or the Efata Knitters in Lima, Peru. I'm headed there ASAP to pick up one of those sock monkeys (from alpaca yarn) that I saw on their website! I blogged about JSA this summer for nj.com, and on my own blog here a couple of years ago.

3. The Whale's Tail. I've been shopping here for unique cards and gifts ever since I first got an allowance. It is still my go-to place for gifts of a nautical nature, imaginative kids' puppets, and unusual gifts, jewelry and cards. The Whale's Tail is on the Washington Street Mall which at this time of year is loaded with off-season sales. Here's what I said about the mall this summer for nj.com.

4. So maybe you can't get to Cape May, or perhaps you'd like a gift reminiscent of America's Original Seaside Resort. Maybe you'd like some Cape May themed note cards? Handmade by me? With my own photos? Go ahead and visit my Etsy shop...no pressure...new stuff is added as I get inspiration or replenish my supply of glue dots. If you missed it, the link is here.

Beethoven, My Travel Companion

2011-09-17T13:40:00.010-04:00

A major part of traveling is the getting there and the getting home. I select books carefully if someone else is doing the driving (or flying), and when I'm the driver I give thought to what is tuned in on the radio or inserted into the CD player. The recent drive home from the beach at the end of Labor Day weekend was bittersweet--the end of the summer season and all--but my classical station was finishing the much-anticipated Classical Countdown, or its top 30 listener requests. Beethoven's Ninth Symphony won the top spot.

My MINI Cooper has a great sound system and I often imagine myself in this bubble of high-fidelity moving through space. No. 9 never sounded so good as it did that day in all its layers and textures and contrasting movements. This may sound goofy, but that old favorite piece of musical genius sang to my melancholy soul. The third movement, the slow one, in particular seemed to take over my consciousness. This experience of full engagement in over seventy minutes of Beethoven caused me to think about his role in my life journey so far. From what I've read, I probably would not have liked the man very much, but his music is a touchstone for me.

As a Music Theory major in Music History class, I remember having the nicest professor for the one semester out of the four that we studied the Classical Era. Medieval/Renaissance, Baroque, and Romantic/20th Century were tough. We endured bitter professors who displayed no passion for the subject matter and inspired us to rename those courses 'Music Misery.' I'm here to tell you, umpteen years later, their intimidating, no-nonsense approach was not any more effective than the kind and gentle professor. Having that sweet, knowledgeable Dr. Meyer guide us through the music of Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, and their contemporaries was pure joy. Lesson learned.

In graduate school for Music Theory, we focused more on form and interpretation than individual chords and themes. Dr. Archibald blew the roof off the place when he performed Beethoven's "Waldstein" Sonata (Op. 53) for us in class. This might have been the single most inspirational moment of any of my Music Theory classes. I sat in awe as we dissected the piece after that, labeling the chords, themes and sections of the piece and talking about what was going on in Beethoven's life when he was composing it. Wow. Dr. Archibald was also my thesis advisor. I chose Beethoven's Quintet for Winds, Op. 16, an early work, because there wasn't much scholarship on it yet. I worked for two semesters on that piece analyzing every second of it. I'll never forget Dr. Archibald coaching me to consider the piece of music, and my analysis, as an organic thing growing in time. True that.

That musical education I put so much time into attaining is usually packed away with utmost care in some storage area of my brain. The experience of the Ninth Symphony in the car caused me to go rifling through my books, scores, and notebooks to reminisce about my glory days as a music theory student. The hearing of the Ninth Symphony encouraged me to do some reading which reminded me how Beethoven was a master at using themes and motifs to create impressions. He called himself a 'tone poet' (Tondichter in his own German). His music did not tell a story literally, but these impressions emerge as fanfares and pastoral moments with foreshadowings, reminiscences, and developments of these moments to create form. The impression you get from your listening of the Ninth Symphony will differ from mine just as von Karajan's recorded interpretation will differ from Muti's. It may be simply an aurally pleasing succession of sounds to us, or it could tell us a story. Wilhelm von Lenz wrote that the story told by No. 9 is the history of the universe with the first movement representing Creation. Could be. One thing is sure even to anyone who doesn't understand German or read music: the symphony is an incredible seventy-plus-minute journey to a joyful destination.

Two Busy Weeks in Cape May

2011-07-24T17:04:00.011-04:00

My recent two-week vacation was packed with more action than usual but at the same time I actually attained relaxation. I had planned a reading and writing vacation and brought a few stacks of books and notebooks. My main writing would be for nj.com's Je rsey Shore Blog. I'm contributing there about extreme South Jersey (i.e. Cape May, Wildwood, and points inland) just for the summer season. Therefore, I'd have to experience some adventures so I'd have plenty to write about for the agreed-upon twice-a-week posts.

On my first day, I took a whale watching cruise out of Cape May. I've done this before and only ever seen dolphins, so I was set to write a nice little post about those Atlantic Bottlenose scamps. To my surprise, the captain announced that there were three humpback whales sighted about eleven miles out and we were headed right for them. I'd seen whales off Bar Harbor, Maine, and San Diego, California, but never off the coast of Cape May! But there was one right in front of our boat, spouting and diving, and I got some great whale's tail photos. It was magnificent. Read about that cruise here.

I like boats and I'll take any excuse to ride on one. I also like pirates. We set sail on Wildwood's Dark Star Pirate Cruise on the last day of vacay. Fred and I were the only adults not accompanied by kids, but we had a fabulous time. Those pirates maintained the action and the interest for the entire hour. We learned some pirate jokes, pirate lingo, pirate history, hauled some treasure aboard, and we got to engage in a firefight (actually water) with another pirate ship. I posted about that here.

In-between the whales and the pirates, I explored Cape May. As a lifetime part-time resident, I know this place well, but I always learn new things on these (Cape May Mid-Atlantic Center for the Arts and Humanities) tours. During these two weeks, I toured East Cape May to see the mansions by the sea,

West Cape May to learn about its farms and history, the iconic Victorian architecture including Show allthe Physick Estate,

the U.S. Coast Guard Training Center (including the Sunset Parade), the 2011 Designer Show House (this year on the century-old Cape May Harbor), and I had a seat on the Ghosts of the Lighthouse Trolley Tour. Ghosts are really big this year (in New Orleans, too), so I had to sample a piece of Cape May's paranormal offerings. This tour included a nighttime climb of the lighthouse, another first for me. I have or will post about all of these things on that nj.com blog, along with some local farmers' markets and the Ocean Drive. What a fun experience that has been, and I still have over a month of posts left to dream up.

There were two excursions during this vacation that required some mileage and some decent outfits: a very pleasant al fresco dinner party with friends, and a book talk and signing at the Avalon Public Library. I just happened to notice an ad for this in the newspaper, but people I spoke to at the event had been looking forward to it for months. David and Julie Nixon Eisenhower spoke about themselves, their families, and their new book, Going Home to Glory, about Dwight D. Eisenhower's post-presidential years (1961-1969). I had the opportunity to chat with Julie Nixon Eisenhower, and found her quite witty and charming. They were headed to Cape May after the talk, and when she asked me how long it would take to get there, I had the answer: 27 minutes.

Even with all of these adventures, I had to be sure to squeeze in my favorite activity, the beach! I made it to my three favorites, the Cape May Point State Park beach, the Delaware Bay Beach (with Gladys), and the ocean beach at Jackson Street. A Cape May vacation can be so much more than just the beach, though! I hope you will click on some of the links above to get a sample of how I'm keeping myself busy this summer!

Perfecting our Saunter at Three Louisiana Sugar Palaces

2011-07-04T23:07:00.011-04:00

The River Road between New Orleans and Baton Rouge is actually a network of roads on both sides of the Mississippi River. Sugar cane was the big money crop here (and is still grown here), and the grand plantations built on sugar remember a grand lifestyle. We toured three of these, perfecting out hot-weather saunters on a sunny June day in Louisiana.

First on the agenda was Laura, a Creole plantation built in 1805 in Vacherie, Louisiana. The tour through the house and grounds was fantastic and we felt the most authentic of the three we'd see. We learned that these houses are supported by huge underground pyramids of bricks because the earth is so soft and wet. The house is painted in traditional Creole colors which set it apart from the white Greek Revival mansions we would see next.

Another unusual fact about Laura is that since its owners were of French descent, they saw no problem with women inheriting property. (The English didn't allow it.) Three generations of women ran the Laura plantation, ending with Laura Locoul Gore, upon whose memoirs the tours are based. The first-hand accounts of family and house history helped make this tour compelling.

It's also interesting to learn that the folktales told by the Senegalese slaves at Laura were recorded by a Louisiana State University professor and eventually became known as the B'rer Rabbit tales.

Just upriver from Laura, and still in Vacherie, sits Oak Alley with its iconic 300-year-old live oak canopy. This shot seems to be everywhere, but I had to take a few of my own. The trees predate the current house and the levee across the street. The 28 oaks were planted by the French owner of a much more modest house exactly 80 feet apart. The idea is for the two lines of massive oaks to draw the cool river breezes towards the house and sauntering people. One hundred years after that modest house, the current mansion was built on the site with 28 Doric columns, eight feet in circumference. (That's thick, but consider those huge live oaks are about 30 feet around!)
People used to sit on the veranda , sipping mint juleps, to watch the ships passing on the river. That's no longer possible since the levee hides the river from view. On the other hand, that levee protected the region during and after Hurricane Katrina.

Our third plantation visit was Houmas House in Burnside, Louisiana. This one gets the prize for the most interesting gardens. Exotic, tropical flowers, ponds, fountains, whimsical garden accents, and buildings populate the grounds along with live oaks, magnolias, and crape myrtles. There is color everywhere. This Greek Revival "sugar palace" was begun in the early 1800s and finished in the 1840s by his son-in-law. Gorgeous hand-carved furniture and fine art decorate the house along with noteworthy architectural elements. The three-story free-standing wooden spiral staircase caught my eye, as did the older, colorful French House connected behind the mansion which contains an open-hearth kitchen. By the way, men are required to climb it first so that women don't accidentally flash them any...ankle. Re-watch the movie "Hush...Hush, Sweet Charlotte"--it was filmed here and Bette Davis got to stay in the house. Today the current owner lives in the mansion, and it was a little odd to come upon his historically-correct bedroom and walk through it on the tour. Odder still, the wedding picture display of his pair of Golden Retrievers...

New Orleans Spooks Margaret (Part 2)

2011-06-30T10:39:00.010-04:00

"Visitors staying in this hotel would go home, have their film developed, and find pictures of themselves sleeping in their beds...taken from the ceiling!"

I heard this ghost story and many other convincing tales on the New Orleans Spirit Tours Ghost and Vampire Tour. The visitors mentioned above were staying in the Andrew Jackson Inn which at one time was a boarding school for boys. There was a fire in which some of the students perished, and these became the mischievous photographers who also noisily haunt the halls.

Like me, our tour guide, George, is skeptical about the existence of vampires. Thanks to recent movies and television shows, vampires are a big, big topic in New Orleans. Believer or not, George had some interesting stories about them. One tale describes a mysterious and dashing man-about-town from last century who suddenly disappeared. When his New Orleans social set researched his name, they found that it matched another character from generations before in Europe. The two men even matched the same description down to the "diamonds in his clothes" part. Was he a vampire? A ghost?

Whether or not vampires really exist (I hope not), there does exist a community of wanna-bees who hang out in clubs like the Dungeon, just off Bourbon Street. Walking past this establishment, even in the daytime when it was closed, gave me the willies. (It was also uncomfortably close to my own hotel.)

Ghosts and vampires may or may not exist, but one piece of New Orleans culture might be the most chilling of all. In the cemeteries, bodies are buried above ground because of the high water table. These family tombs are like real estate, and as with any property, there is a limited supply. (Do you know where I'm going with this?) After at least a year and a day (an old rule that allows for the quick decomposition that occurs in the NOLA climate), when there is a new body to be interred, the coffins of previous residents are removed and destroyed. The contents/remains/bones are pushed back into the crypts underneath (called caveaux) to make room for the incoming deceased. (Creeped-out yet?) As I mentioned, these tombs are property, and as such can be sold. New owners can agree to let the remains of the previous stay, or, they can insist that the tomb be cleaned out and the bones deposited elsewhere. (Shiver.)

In case you're wondering, no pictures of me sleeping in my comfy white Hotel Monteleone bed taken from the ceiling materialized on my memory card. (Phew!) How would I have reacted to that?! The Monteleone is supposed to be haunted, too, but I haven't heard any tales, or looked for any, either.

New Orleans Captivates Margaret, (Part 1)

2011-06-29T09:28:00.010-04:00

Sitting on the airplane, catching up on my journal, I realized I would have to limit my New Orleans posts to the sights and experiences that I found the most interesting. It might seem strange to pair a cathedral with street jazz musicians, and then mention piles of powdered sugar with doughnuts underneath, but these are the big surprises of New Orleans. We did visit the famous Bourbon Street, a few times, but it was close to what I expected. I intend to concentrate here on the delightful surprises.

The Cathedral-Basilica of Saint Louis, King of France, sits just north of Jackson Square in the French Quarter. Taken from pretty Jackson Square, almost any photo of the cathedral will have Crepe Myrtle, magnolia, and palm trees in the foreground. I couldn't resist taking a few photos of the Spanish-style cathedral, but I hadn't planned on entering until (of all people) our ghost-and-vampire tourguide advised us not to miss it. It might have been partly the turbo air-conditioning on a beastly-hot day, but to me, the cathedral was breathtaking and I wanted to stay in there and inspect every stained-glass window (those tell Saint Louis's story), every shrine, every ceiling painting, and every piece of Catholic symbolism. This cathedral has more recently (1964) been named a basilica (meaning an archbishop presides here) and the umbrella see left) and bells encased in glass symbolize this important designation. If the Pope should visit, he is greeted with the umbrella, a symbol of hospitality as it is too narrow to protect him from actual rain. The massive organ pipes are framed by an arch illuminated by golden vines and angels reminding me of the prominence of music in this city. The organ was water-damaged during Hurricane Katrina and had to be sent away to be fixed. It was reinstalled in 2008.

I expected to find jazz musicians on the streets of the French Quarter, but I did not expect them to be so good! Almost every block had some unusual combination of instruments playing technically-virtuosic, heartfelt, and intense jazz. My favorite, just down the street from Aunt Sally's Pralines, was a clarinet player endowed with the technical prowess of Benny Goodman jamming with an equally accomplished trombonist. They were playing in a Dixieland style. As a longtime clarinetist who has enjoyed many friendships with trombonists over the years, I appreciated this combination. Music is after all, a kind of conversation between musicians, and jazz is the most personal kind of conversation. As usual, when I heard this clarinet I heard it as my voice even though I never was and never will be as good as the player sitting on this bench. By the way, the bucket says, " My name is Fill=up D. Bucket!"

These guys outside the cathedral were irresistible. I heard the saxophonist alone as I was shooting photos of Jackson Square and the exterior of the cathedral. Then the drummer joined him and added a hot beat and some vocals--WOW!!! I could feel some swing-dance moves coming on, but oh, no partner (shucks).

On the other side of Jackson Square is the famous Cafe du Monde. I couldn't get near this place until my last day in New Orleans because it was so crowded. Finally after our city tour, Linda and I popped in for some beignets in the late afternoon. Sadly though, the sousaphone player who had been there Sunday for this photo was not there to entertain us on Monday. She had the required cafe au lait, but I stuck with a nice cold diet soft drink (they don't say soda). I will admit to making a mess with that powdered sugar, but it was worth it and in my defense, so was everyone else! The small cafe tables were covered with it. I think I might start a movement to replace all Starbucks with Cafes du Monde. What do you think?

Signs of Spring in Cape May, New Jersey

2011-05-07T20:27:00.005-04:00

I remember working on an assignment in second or third grade where we had to go out into nature and find 'Signs of Spring.' We probably had to make some kind of visual presentation, but I don't remember that. I do remember finding buds on trees, tiny leaves, dandelions, and probably pansies. I think of that assignment every year when the trees start to bud, and today as I walked through Cape May on a fabulous five-house Private Home Tour, I identified some Cape May signs of spring.

I did notice more traffic on the southbound highways last night, and I noticed more cars competing with me for the best free parking. But I'm trying to keep this post focused on positive things, so I'll point out that there were many folks biking around the city today. These bikes were parked outside Congress Hall.
It was a warm spring day, so there were quite a few people catching some rays on the beach. You can tell it is not summer because those tents on Steger's...uh, I mean Jackson Street Beach aren't unfurled yet.Tulips, of course. It's actually a little late for tulip viewing, but these looked nice on Washington Street Mall. Cape May takes pride in its tulips because the earliest European residents were Dutch.

So back to that Private Home Tour: loved it. I felt like I was being nosy at first paying money to sniff around other people's homes, but each of the hosts seemed pleased to show off their beautiful homes. I'm going to blog at length about this for the NJ.com Jersey Shore blog, so I won't get into detail here, but I will say this tour was a special treat. Cape May's Mid-Atlantic Center for the Arts and Humanities, the tour organizers, asked that we respect the homeowners' privacy and not take photos inside. Here's a shot of one of my favorites, possibly because the lady of the house is a stitcher and a gardener and that was evident throughout.
Here's my favorite elementary school sign of spring, buds on trees:Each house had a docent stationed on the porch assigned to chat us up until the hosts were ready. One of these docents pointed out something I hadn't realized before. Cape May has trees. Lots of big, old, shade-giving, leaf-shedding trees. Other New Jersey shore towns, not so much. You learn something every tour.

Longwood Gardens II: Every Flower's Got a Story

2011-03-27T12:11:00.004-04:00

I suspect I get my love of flowers from my parents. They always had flowers in the gardens. My father enjoyed shooting photos of flowers, especially those he had grown himself. He experimented with light and filters and backgrounds. We have some nice dahlia photos of his, but most are in the form of slides. Perhaps I was channeling him at Longwood Gardens last week when I took about five hundred flower photos and spent quite a lot of hours sorting and cropping afterward. That's all I do--crop--I don't enhance my photos in any way. This post contains my favorite non-orchid flower photos.

That top photo is a gardenia. That was Mom's favorite flower. I don't remember her growing gardenias until my father passed away and one of her friends bought her a bush to cheer her up. It still thrives in Cape May, and is loaded with pink gardenias in mid-spring. The problem is, Mom loved white gardenias because she carried them when she got married in 1943. She didn't have a fancy white dress or professional photos to remember the day because it was wartime. She and my father were married in their uniforms, U.S. Coast Guard for him and Navy WAVES for her, and the white gardenias were the one luxury. There's now a white gardenia bush next to the pink one in Cape May, purchased in memory of her.

I do remember Mom growing roses. I have never had luck with roses (they practically die when I breathe on them), but Mom grew roses in many colors wherever we lived. Some of her salmon and pink ones still bloom in Cape May, but I don't get too close. I like this photo because I got the blurry background thing right.

Dad's favorite flower, besides dahlias, was the bird of paradise. I remember these growing on the porch of the Cape May house, but once we left Cape May for Staten Island, he turned over his plants to his friend Fred (a mechanic with a greenhouse) for safekeeping. This is my best bird of paradise shot from Longwood:

Generally, I favor hibiscus. Sometimes, I get them to grow and bloom in my own garden. Cape May is a whole different gardening zone from Hamilton, so I'd probably have more luck there except that I'm not there often enough to water them. But here's a nice shot from Longwood:

I pulled out my fish-eye lens to shoot the palm room. The window panes in the background and the palms themselves make a nice effect curved on the sides. There's another one like this that includes Fred (another mechanic, but without a greenhouse) holding my pocketbook. He doesn't like that one.
There's no story behind this shot except that I really like these flowers. I think it's the color. I have one garden beside my house that has almost exclusively this color blooms of different varieties with yellow flowers.

Finally, here's a vintage shot I took in May, 1977, of my parents at the Topiary Garden at Longwood Gardens. (This one I had to touch-up a little bit.)

Longwood Gardens' Orchid Extravaganza

2011-03-27T11:51:00.006-04:00

I had been meaning to walk around Longwood Gardens with my camera for months--I missed the chrysanthemums in fall and the holiday lights--but thanks to a great deal from Groupon I got to see the orchid show. Thousands of orchids in countless varieties were worked into the exhibit areas in the Conservatory, and the usual orchid room was full of colorful specimen. I am no orchid expert and wouldn't attempt to grow them, but I can shoot them with the Nikon...I LOVE the unusual color on these:

How do these know to form a perfect sphere?

Is this one my favorite? I'm not sure.

Tijuana, Baby!

2011-03-06T12:29:00.009-05:00

I was warned not to tempt fate in Tijuana because I would become the victim of unspeakable horrors, but at the same time I was encouraged to explore Tijuana for the delicious food and low, low prices on silver, serapes, tequila, and vanilla. The truth of the matter is, it probably would be dangerous to venture over the border alone in a rental car not knowing where I was going. But a three-hour bus trip with a group of tourists and a knowledgeable, experienced bus driver seemed like a fun way to spend an afternoon. I was right. After the trip, I asked Rick the bus driver if there are ever any problems on this tour. He said in 24 years of driving busloads of tourists back and forth over the border, he can only count three instances where people had problems. In each instance, the tourists had wandered off the main tourist street and had money or jewelry stolen.

Rick told us everything we needed to know on the way south from San Diego.
1. Stay on Avenue Revolucion between 1st and 10th streets, (otherwise unspeakable horrors...),
2. Don't pay the first price quoted: haggle. (I got pretty good at this mainly by stating that I couldn't afford that price and heading for the door.)
3. Whatever you buy has to be carried over the border at customs,
3. "If he's holding a gun, don't take a picture,"
and the scariest of all to me,
4. "Don't eat at that restaurant up there." (Evidently there's a custom where they force tequila down your throat and then shake up your brains to disorient you.)

I was warned not to take a Tijuana taxi. Here they all are getting gassed-up at one of the government-controlled stations:Rick warned us about purchasing prescription drugs cheap at the many drugstores in the tourist area. This was no temptation for me since I take no prescription medicines, but if I had the slightest inclination to save some money this way I would have been discouraged by sights like this:Rick even drove his bus up and down Avenue Revolucion to point out the more reputable establishments. I stayed close to those, bought some Mexican textiles, some geegaws, and had a fabulous lunch of chicken mole preceded by chips and the most awesomely delicious salsa ever. If I lived in Tijuana, I would eat at Tia Juana Tilly's (recommended by Rick) everyday. By the way, there is a legend in Mexico that Tijuana was named after someone's Aunt (Tia) Juana. This is not true, but that nickname is seen a lot.

What I would not do everyday if I lived in Tijuana is get my picture taken behind a striped donkey, but this was fun to do once.

San Diego, California, by Water

2011-03-06T11:17:00.007-05:00

During any conference, there has to be some downtime to rest the brain. During a conference in San Diego, this downtime is likely spent walking the Embarcadero, admiring the super-yachts and wondering who the heck lives like that, people watching, cruising over the bay for a walk around Coronado (the movie "Some Like it Hot" was filmed at the Hotel del Coronado),
or touring the USS Midway.This enormous aircraft carrier served the US Navy for forty-seven years, beginning right after the Japanese surrender in 1945. It is difficult to get a sense of the length of the flight deck with the many restored aircraft poised for duty, but it is a whopping 1,001 feet long.
My colleagues and I toured the entire ship, saw the bunks and control rooms, and even spent some time in the brig.

As my colleagues flew home after the conference, I hung around for a couple of days to explore. I walked through the Maritime Museum, made up of floating ships rather than buildings. I eavesdropped on a class learning about the Star of India (1863), the oldest active merchant ship in the world.
I was surprised to encounter the HMS Surprise, a replica of an 18th century British Royal Navy frigate which was featured in the movie "Master and Commander". (I will have to re-watch this movie as I embarrassed myself by falling asleep during my first viewing in the theater. And it was my selection. I was really tired that evening. My friend was annoyed.)
The 1974 B-39 Soviet Attack Submarine was memorable partly for the small, round, three-foot-maximum passageways I had to maneuver through.

Keeping with the nautical theme, I signed on for a whale watching cruise that afternoon. although the promotional documents guaranteed whale sightings, I was skeptical. Way out, almost ten miles into the Pacific Ocean, we did see three Pacific Gray Whales. We were told to watch out for heart-shaped spouts,
and then to look for breaching whales, and whale flukes.
I was thrilled, these being my first whale photos after many Atlantic Ocean whale watching cruises. Our naturalist, from the Birch Aquarium at Scripps, thought one of these three was a yearling and mentioned that these Pacific Gray Whales are the size of a VW Beetle when born.

After a long day of water sightseeing, I headed out to El Cajon Boulevard to my post-conference hotel, the Lafayette. This formerly opulent hotel was a favorite of movie stars in the 1940s and features a swimming pool designed by Johnny Weismuller of "Tarzan" fame.

The hotel is undergoing a renovation and shows promise, but don't stay there anytime soon unless you enjoy carrying heavy suitcases up a flight of concrete stairs. Hey, I saved some money AND got to stay in the Mae West suite.

NJ Lighthouse Crawl

2011-01-12T15:56:00.008-05:00

Every year, I say I'm going to participate in the New Jersey Lighthouse Challenge in October, and every year I don't. October is a very busy month for me, and I just can't seem to fit it in. This year, Fred, Gladys, and I decided to make our own challenge on Thanksgiving weekend. We thought we'd hit all the oceanside lighthouses from Sandy Hook in the north to Hereford Inlet (North Wildwood) in the south on Day One, hang out in Cape May for Day Two, and then travel north on starting at Cape May (at the confluence of the ocean and Delaware Bay), visiting the three bayside lighthouses. (That's the East Point Lighthouse in Heislerville, on the bay, at the top of this post.)

Unfortunately, Fred had to go to work on the morning of Day One, and I hadn't considered that the days are short and we'd lose daylight around 4:30. This was important because I had planned to photograph each lighthouse even if I didn't climb them. The Day One plan was spread over Day One and Day Two, and there was a lot of extra driving. On the positive side, we enjoyed traveling the Ocean Drive in the off-season through some of the shore towns we don't often visit. Gladys was thrilled that all of the lighthouses were dog-friendly this time of year except Hereford Inlet in North Wildwood. This is because they have a pretty awesome garden and prefer to regulate the fertilizer that goes in it.

So we visited the eleven lighthouses: Sandy Hook, Twin Lights (Navesink), Sea Girt, (Day One); Hereford Inlet, Absecon, Tucker's Island, Barnegat (Day Two); and Cape May, East Point, Finn's Point, and Tinicum (Day Three). I photographed all and climbed none. At the beginning, we borrowed the term 'challenge' for our adventure, but about halfway through changed that to 'crawl' (see the title of this post). Red and green words in this post are hyperlinks, by the way.

STUFF I LEARNED

Sandy Hook is famous not merely for its nude beach, but also for its lighthouse, the oldest in the United States (1764) and occupied by the British during the Revolutionary War.
The Absecon and Barnegat (pictured below) lighthouses were designed by the same engineer, Brigadeer General George Meade who later distinguished himself at the Battle of Gettysburg.
The Absecon Lighthouse is only steps away from the Showboat Casino in Atlantic City, and is New Jersey's tallest lighthouse with 228 steps.
The exoskeletal Finn's Point (pictured below) and and Tinicum lighthouses are rear range lighthouses, and each was used with another light. Ships' navigators would line up the two lights to make sure they were on course to enter a channel, river, or harbor.

Cape May is still my favorite.

Washington, Crossing the Delaware

2011-01-04T16:41:00.006-05:00

We were a little late arriving in Titusville, NJ, this year for the annual reenactment of General George Washington's historical 1776 crossing of the Delaware River, but we got to see his boat land on the New Jersey side. By the way, Washington and his troops used Durham boats, manufactured in Pennsylvania since 1750 to cross the river. You can read more about them here: http://durhamhistoricalsociety.org/history2.html

You'll recall from eighth grade history that the Americans were not winning battles much at this point of the Revolutionary War. Washington, the great leader that he was, empowered the exhausted troops with his plan to cross the river from their camp in Bucks County, PA, to Titusville, NJ, and march south to Trenton. there they would surprise the Hessian soldiers who fighting for the British. The Hessians, thinking the war was won, were celebrating Christmas in Trenton. Other troops would join Washington's from Princeton, a few miles inland. Washington's plan, originally suggested by a man from Bordentown, NJ, (just south of Trenton), was successful and it turned the tide of the American Revolution.

The historic river crossing is reenacted every Christmas afternoon, and draws rather large crowds on both sides of the river. Uniformed reenactors mingle with the spectators, and some even pose for photos. (That's Gladys, held by her "cousin" Cecily, posing with some soldiers.) Gladys was not thrilled about this event because of the incessant cannon fire which sounded a lot like fireworks to her. She HATES fireworks. Gladys and I wonder: wouldn't cannon fire have alerted the partying Hessians that something was amiss upstream? We're supposing the cannon fire had more to do with showing off artillery than authentic reenactment, but that is just conjecture.

This year's crossing went smoothly from what we could tell, but it doesn't always. Back in 2007, Washington's boat was swept away by the swift current (towards Trenton), and we got a side view.

All was well as 21st-century rescuers were waiting on hand, and Washinton's troops finished their triumphant march through the park.

The Hamilton-Trenton-Bordentown Marsh

2010-11-22T12:19:00.011-05:00

I write a lot about Cape May, so much so that many readers probably assume that I live there. No, it was my parents' home, I was born there, and my sister and I maintain our family home there. I planted myself in Hamilton, NJ, because I'm near highways, trains and airports that lead me to all the places I like to visit. (Was that a long story not made short enough?)

My house sits on a bluff overlooking the Hamilton (-Trenton-Bordentown) Marsh, now a county park, but hundreds of years ago it was Lenni Lenape territory. Hunters would wait in what is my backyard for game to appear in the marsh below. Location, location, location.

At the turn of the last century and after, there was an amusement park in the marsh centered around Spring Lake. It was built by a trolley company so that people in Trenton would have a reason to ride the trolley on weekends. This stairway is leftover from that time. Visitors would walk down these steps to get to the amusements after riding the trolley through my current neighborhood's backyards. The houses on my street were built in the 1950s, but this neighborhood is a hodgepodge of single homes, duplexes, and rowhomes of all ages. There is even a mansion once owned by Joseph Bonaparte, Napoleon's older brother. I don't think he lived there, but his mistress did, and he lived on the other side of the marsh in Bordentown. Location, location, location.

Today the marsh is a great place to go to photograph nature in all seasons. In spring, the water lilies begin to bloom in Spring Lake.
And the Old Man Tree is surrounded by new growth.

In summer, wildflowers abound and avian residents hang near the lake to stay cool. This photo, "Single Cattail," actually sold at a marsh photography show a few years ago.

In fall, the leaves turn and start to drop revealing less obstructed views like this one of beaver lodges.

In winter, it's a treat to stand in my backyard and see the marsh covered with snow. Location, location, location.

Dog Friendly Cape May

2010-11-11T14:08:00.008-05:00

Hello everyone, I'm Gladys, the Sheltie dog who goes to the beach a lot. Last year, I guest-blogged about Dog Beach, also known as the Bay Beach in North Cape May. Today I'm writing about the ocean beach in Cape May City. Let me assure you this is perfectly legal:

This is where Mom sits when she goes to the beach without me in the summer. I may sound bitter, but I think mom is right that I wouldn't like it. I wear a thick fur coat all year long and I don't really like the hot weather.

I also don't like the water and these ocean waves are a lot bigger than the waves at Dog Beach. (Mom says to call them breakers because it's more descriptive.) On Sunday we walked from the Perry Street Beach up to the Cove. I have never seen so much sand. There's another dog with its people on the jetty in silhouette.

Here's me posing for the camera by the drift fence: This is Sunset Pavilion next to Cove Beach where all the brides go to get married or to have their pictures taken.

And this is Cove Beach See the lighthouse?

After Las Vegas and Disney World, Cape May is the most popular U.S. municipality for weddings.

On the way back to the car, Mom stopped to shoot some pretty Victorian architecture.

What I do not like about Cape May even in the cooler weather are the flagstone sidewalks. I cannot get traction on them. And this: But I really like that beach!

Ugly Fabric?

2010-09-26T14:56:00.006-04:00

The New Normal for me consists of staying home on weekends, cooking, sewing, preparing for the work week and maybe cleaning. Extravagant spending seems to be out these days even for those who can afford it, but for a person like me it is just careless. Luckily I can find joy in the simple things like trying new recipes and putting together a new outfit with fabric from the clearance shelf or my extensive fabric stash.

I have almost always been attracted to fabric, first for doll clothes, then clothes for me, and eventually for quilts and home decorating. (Why buy curtains when you can make exactly what you want to fit any window?) My mother was a sewer and used to drag me to fabric stores. As a little kid I found this excruciatingly boring, but when she started buying me inexpensive remnants for doll dressmaking experiments, I began to be very interested in the stuff. If I had a size 8 model I'd show you some of the masterpiece outfits I made from challenging Vogue Patterns in the 1980s, the era of Dynasty. And now that I have figured out how to fit my middle-aged shape I'm at it again. it's fun.

Recently, I've started watching Project Runway. A friend convinced me to try the show, and I wondered why I hadn't already gotten hooked by it. I'm hooked on it now, and although I never learned to sew without a pattern, I sense the need to take risks. Look at this fabric:

Hideously ugly or out-of-this world cool? I am not sure. My mother bought me this piece, about two yards, at Fabricland. (This is the North Plainfield fabric store I mention in the wedding post below, where I found the scrumptious midnight blue silk for a dressy dress.) I had to have this gaudy fabric and I think Mom was nervous and repulsed by my attraction to it. She was going to make something for me--I don't remember what--but I think couldn't bring herself to do it. Months after she passed away, I found it in with her sewing stuff. Somewhat surprised that she hadn't found a new home for it somewhere far away, I took the fabric home. Roughly forty years later, I'm still not sure if it is hideously ugly or way cool. It is sloshing around in my washing machine now to get rid of its musty smell, and after about 45 minutes in my dryer with a Bounce sheet it's going to become a skirt. Or a jumper.

If you see me walking around wearing such a garment, remember this little blogpost and see if you can decide whether it is hideous or cool. (The skirt I mean--that's the risk. I know the story's cool.)

Colors of a Wedding

2010-09-07T22:01:00.005-04:00

I went to a wedding Saturday. That night, waiting to fall asleep, I reflected on the colors of the day, something the poet and author Frances Mayes does as she travels, and I've noticed myself doing often. It hadn't only been me noticing colors--my confrere and I had been noticing the colors all day.

First was my dress. I chose the fabric for its delicious texture and rich midnight blue (according to my long-lost Crayola box). My shape demands more of a matronly muumuu style than a flirty cocktail dress, so I think the texture must have interest. As I put the dress parts together and the edges frayed a little, I realized that the fibers were black and fuzzy (warp) and electric blue and shiny (weft). Together, they made a fabric that was bright royal blue in sunlight and dark midnight blue under clouds and ceilings. This meant the dress only matched my bright royal blue brocade purse (shaped like a Chinese take-out container) some of the time.

I walked through green to meet my confrere at two o'clock: his green lawn, leafy green trees, and potted plants all illuminated by the bright September sun. An umbrella of green wisteria extended his front porch roof. He took care with his colors, too: the light brown of his suit was repeated in the light blue of his shirt and tie to create a perfect summer look without resorting to the more casual seersucker or khaki. (I have some classy friends.)

There were many hues of purple, violet, orchid at the church ceremony. The bridesmaids' dresses were what I think I remember Crayola calls mulberry, a reddish purple. The bride's mother wore a shade of purple more like eggplant or aubergine. Purples, pinks and blues in many textures seemed to be the most popular choices for the guests' frocks: strapless, one-shoulder, sheaths and gowns. My confrere and I agreed to dislike one (only one) dress. It was a flat sapphire blue, merely smooth satin with none of the all-important texture so many of the others wore. I had rejected this kind of fabric repeatedly while I searched through fabric stores. With no texture, the eye is drawn to the seams and lines of the garment (the waist, princess seams defining the bodice, the sleeves or armholes), and frequently these are unflattering.

Deep plum defined the reception. The tablecloths puddled on the floor and the napkins too fine to really use matched the darkest hue in the orchids that were everywhere. Young ladies in jewel-tone dresses posed for photos on the terrace with the Lake Nockamixon as a backdrop. The lake changed from bright azure to to sapphire and then disappeared into the darkness as the inside moved from late summer sunlight to warm candlelight. Tiny green and white lights dotted the lake like nonpareils to mark the locations of boats.

The most striking colors of the day were, of course, the bride's honey-gold hair, worn loose, and the exquisite cream-colored lace of her veil and gown. Looking like a fairy tale princess, her train had a magical, graceful drape and movement. She radiated deep joy and happiness as she moved through the colors of her long-anticipated day.

Turtle Back Zoo

2010-08-15T10:52:00.014-04:00

The Turtle Back Zoo in Essex County, NJ, is filled with engaging and aesthetically pleasing exhibits, but one of my most vivid memories is a giant pig named Arbuckle. This dude(?) was 800 pounds easy, and lumbered over to us at the "Essex Farm" exhibit. I have never seen a pig this big, and wondered, how do those pointy (relatively) petite hooves hold him up?
We were in this area of the world to visit the seamstress's mecca, Fabricland, in North Plainfield (where I lived from kindergarten to fourth grade). Mom used to drag me to Fabricland, but I hated it then--love it now. It's NJ's largest fabric store, after all. Anyhow, after driving past our old house and my old school, I thought it would be fun to visit the zoo in East Orange. This was a popular destination for Girl Scout trips, school trips, and playdates with friends. I remembered going there, but no specifics. On one of these trips I learned about carsickness; not me, but my seatmate. Ew.

The zoo is not huge, but the exhibits were terrific. The first 'wow' was the prairie dog exhibit. It looked like a landscaped playground thing for kids, and we were going to skip it. Then I noticed the prairie dogs and the plexi-glass lookouts with real kids heads sticking up in them, among the prairie dogs!
We were there for feeding time and got to see the dogs eating carrots. the zookeeper explained to Fred (who talks to everyone, everywhere) that they like orange foods the most: carrots, sweet potatoes, oranges. (I learn a lot from Fred talking to everyone everywhere.)

Next up was the Wild New Jersey exhibit I had read about online. This was interesting, but the animals are old news and the exhibits ordinary. But look at the cool shot of the Bald Eagles:This Australian Budgerigar (parakeets to us yankees) aviary was a stroke of genius. The pastel-colored birds fly around, perch, and eat seeds off sticks purchased by zoo visitors for $3. Kids and adults alike got a bang out of walking around the aviary with parakeets attached to their seed sticks. I was so mesmerized by the birds and the people interacting with them, I hardly noticed the noisy, sticky kids and their younger siblings' enormous strollers. Fred, who has infinite patience with rugrats, had reached his kid-saturation level while I was still admiring the scores of beautiful birds and their willingness to eat seed from strange people. Now that's an engaging display!Also part of the Australian exhibit were kangaroos and wallabies. These guys move fast--I tried to capture them boinging around on video, but that proved too much of a challenge.The Asian exhibit featured these graceful cranes, a red panda, lots of bamboo, and a waterfall.The Cape May County Zoo (mentioned in some earlier posts), has Capybaras, too. These are the world's largest rodents. We hit the Capybara paddock at feeding time, too. They seem like gentle creatures; really big hamsters.
Then the reptile house...
My photo of the giant python with the huge lump halfway down did not come out, so we will have to be satisfied with this sleeping bat photo.

And right at the entrance to the zoo, some of the newest residents, penguins! We got to see them swimming in their bright blue water when we entered, and their parting gift was this nice group pose.

Ringing Rocks Park, Bucks County, PA

2010-08-01T18:01:00.004-04:00

We spent Friday driving around Bucks County, Pennsylvania, so that I could gather information, photos, and video for an article about lesser-known attractions in this county. (I stayed away from Sesame Place and Peddler's Village, but we did drive through New Hope.) One of the most interesting places of all is Ringing Rocks Park. We brought all sorts of hammers as we were told, but a regular metal hammer was the best of all....

No one knows how these rocks got here, and the meteorite and glacier-dump theories seem to have been discredited. There is very little information online which adds to the mystery. It is an interesting place to visit, straight up the River Road (Route 32), among all of the other Bucks County sites: quaint towns, covered bridges, historical monuments, huge parks, and original restaurants. Why didn't I think to write this article sooner?

Cape May's World War II Observation Tower

2010-06-26T14:59:00.009-04:00

I chatted with World War II veterans at the restored observation tower and learned some stuff I didn't know. This mysterious structure has intrigued me since I was a child. It stood there with no explanation just down Sunset Boulevard from Sunset Beach and the sunken concrete ship Atlantus.
It looked creepy and spooky. The tower was finally restored over the winter of 2008-2009 by Cape May's Mid-Atlantic Center for the Arts and Humanities and opened to the public in March 2009.

Signs, officially called "interpretive panels," tell the history of the tower. It was built in 1942 as part of Fort Miles. Fort Miles was mainly situated on Delaware's Cape Henlopen, with some sites on Cape May. Originally it was called Fire Tower #23, and there were eleven others on the Delaware coast and three others in the Cape May area. The towers were staffed by soldiers who were charged with guarding the Delaware Bay and River from German U-boats. The ports upriver (Camden, Philadelphia, etc.) were though to be prime targets. Part way up the spiral stairs is an engaging memorial to local veterans showing then and now photographs. A couple more flights and there is the soldiers' "Dayroom" or lounge.

From the veterans last weekend, I learned that these towers were actually decommissioned in 1944. The army figured that if there were German U-boats approaching, they wouldn't be seen anyway because they would be under water. Also, the shipping channel, closer to the Delaware side of the bay, was not deep enough for the U-boats to submerge to sneak up on us. After the decommissioning, those two thousand soldiers involved were reassigned and the towers were staffed by volunteers until the end of the war.

I had been wondering about communication, too. How did the soldiers in this tower communicate with those in the other towers and on the base manning the big guns? (Cape May was remote when I was a child--imagine thirty years before that.) My question was answered by the equipment hanging on the wall and explained by the veteran at the top of the tower Sunday: they used radios until telephone lines were put up. Telephone lines, as you might imagine, were much more secure than radio transmissions.

The tower now has metal, spiral stairs up to its sixth-story top, but those don't seem military.
What did the soldiers use in the 1940s? The veterans explained to me that there were straight wooden ladders running up along the inside of the tower. They were staggered and passed through manhole-sized openings. If a soldier fell, he wouldn't fall all the way down because each ladder ended and a new one started on the opposite side of each floor.

The restored tower is no longer creepy to me. It is a meaningful memorial to the Cape May residents who fought for our country and a great addition to Cape May's riveting World War II destinations. How lucky are we that there are still veterans from that Greatest Generation willing to share their knowledge with us today?!

The view from the top:

Cape May Free Photo Opps for Free

2010-06-14T18:37:00.004-04:00

I just submitted a new article to the Cape May-Lewes Ferry's magazine, Twin Capes Traveller, about taking photographs in the Cape May County area. Of course I can't spill all the details of the article here, but I can suggest some cool (free) spots for my readers to try taking some great photos.

For great flower shooting, visit North Wildwood's Hereford Inlet Lighthouse and its amazing gardens. I hadn't explored this gem until last year when I read about it on Twitter. The Cape May County Park and Zoo in Cape May Court House is a nifty place to go for animal photos. Many of the exhibits are viewed from above, on cool overhead walkways. Back down south, the Cape May Point State Park is free and the best place to go for close-up views of the lighthouse. And if you are not worn out by now, check out the great sunsets at the (free) Sunset Beach. Technically this beach is in Lower Township, but it is south of the canal and seems like it is a part of Cape May Point, all the way at the end of Sunset Boulevard.

Now you know some of my Cape May photography secrets, but to read the rest and maybe learn some photo tips, head on over to either ferry terminal (Cape May or Lewes) later this summer and look for the little magazine that has my article. Oh, and the magazine is f-r-e-e.

Cleveland, Part II (Austintown)

2010-05-05T10:35:00.007-04:00

WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?! Eventual answer: a noisy but mild blowout on I-80 near Austintown, Ohio, a suburb of Youngstown.

Stay calm, it's still early on a Saturday, we're safe, the car isn't damaged and AAA is on the way. Tire stores close at 2:00 on Saturdays? And they don't have size 195-55-16 anyway? Well then what do we do now?
Yeah. Due to a massive soccer tournament in Austintown, all of the hotels were booked except for this one. After many phonecalls, I found two rooms at the Econo Lodge, just a stones' throw from where the blowout happened. (#19 orange on map) At first glance, the motel seemed about on par with my inexpensive Cleveland hotel, but way beneath the quality of the conference Marriott where Bill stayed. It was part of a truck stop megalopolis, so at least there were restaurants, drug stores and a liquor store. We passed on the adult entertainment options, and hiked up to a Ruby Tuesday's (#51 green on map) for hamburgers through knee-high grass and dandelions with unbelievably thick, mutant stems. Ruby Tuesday's looked a lot closer on the map, but it turned out to be a three-mile walk, round-trip. Afterwards, we made do with the crappy TV reception and Bill left to crash in his own luxurious room. I decided to wash out some clothes in the sink because I would run out of stuff if we had to stay past Monday when Flynn's Tire and Service would probably have my 195-55-16s in their delivery truck. Almost done, I decided I had enough packets of Tide to wash out my jeans as well, and that is when the sink fell through. Into the homemade "vanity." There was no way I could fix this even temporarily, and got a new room on the flip side of our strip of rooms. Bill graciously helped me move. (It was more than a little spooky there at night, especially after I noticed the guy standing on the footbridge in the woods just across from Bill's room.)

I settled in my new room, exhausted, and realized that my deadbolt wouldn't latch into the door. Okay, but the special hotel-style lock worked, and the handle locked securely. I'd be okay. I didn't notice until the last day that the hotel-style lock had mismatched bolts and looked as if it had been detached with force, perhaps by Austintown SVU. Whatever. Don't fuss and make Bill more miserable.

Next day, Sunday, we walked over to Cracker Barrel (#44 green on map) for brunch and checked out this gem of a highway eatery:

Yup, that really does say Quaker Steak and Lube (#49 green on map). We were tempted, but a steak and lube from Quaker were not in the cards for us. We expected thundershowers Sunday night and ordered Chinese delivery, and ended up at Cracker Barrel again Monday morning where we were greeted like old friends.

By the way, the numbers and the map are almost meaningless because, as we discovered, the map is not drawn to scale. But that gives you an idea of this part of the adventure.

Things moved quickly after this. Flynn's Tire and Service sent out a truck for us and our luggage, and we waited in the shop until the car was finished. About eight hours later (including more hamburgers, this time at Applebees) we were in New Jersey where I'm pretty sure Bill kissed the ground when he thought I wasn't looking. This girl went bonkers when I walked in the door like I have never seen her go bonkers before:

It was quite an adventure. I wasn't murdered in my sleep, I wasn't murdered by Bill, the Mini is fine, he graded papers, I read a book I'm using in my sabbatical project, and we listened to lots of good music in the car. I managed to match-up outfits each day from my meager supply of clean casual clothes, and Bill looked like a GQ model each day. Glad to be home now, and glad I risked taking lots of silly pictures for the blog.

Cleveland, Part I

2010-05-05T08:44:00.009-04:00

How many New Jersey librarians does it take to pump gas? Two: one to hold the nozzle and one to take the photograph. (It is illegal to pump your own gas in New Jersey, so we don't do it often.)
We thought it might be fun (and more economical) to drive to Cleveland from New Jersey for a conference where we would be sharing our work providing information literacy instruction to online learners. My colleague, Bill, and I loaded up the Mini Cooper with luggage and carefully-selected CDs, hit the highway, and arrived in Cleveland about eight hours later. The conference was worth the trip and we met some new librarians who do almost the same kinds of things we do at different colleges and universities across the country and beyond. We even caught up with some people we knew in our previous professional lives at Rutgers University, where we both took our Masters in Library Science degrees and worked in the library system there.

We did have time for some sightseeing and dinners out. Cleveland seems to be having renaissances: small parts of the city, especially near their sports venues, are revitalized. These oases of culture or cuisine are separated by depressed areas with empty storefronts. We enjoyed choosing restaurants on 4th Street, a pedestrian mall of restaurants, for our two dinners outside the conference. We chose La Strada for the first (a mixture of Mediterranean styles of food and decorations including Italian, Greek and Spanish),and Flannery's Irish pub where we were served delicious onion rings the size of donuts. We learned a new word: colcannon, which means mashed potatoes with cabbage and other stuff mixed in. (It was something like this: http://www.tasteofhome.com/Recipes/Colcannon-Potatoes.)

On the way to the restaurants, we stopped by the Cleveland Public Library and posed with their cute little sculpture people.The library, enlarged by a recent new structure,features a tranquil reading garden where more of these sculptures frolic, but that was still closed for the season.

The sightseeing highlight was the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. I could have camped out there all weekend just to read and look at stuff. The display cases were jammed full of rock & roll artifacts as iconic garments, report cards, hotel key collections and guitars. We were surprised at how small many of the garments are, especially Mick Jagger's costumes! The highlight of the museum for me was the special Bruce Springsteen exhibit on the top two floors. The Boss's clothing, including the famous worn jeans from the "Born in the USA" album, his notebooks of lyrics, posters from when he played at Rutgers, his scrapbooks made for the earlier albums, his guitars, Danny Federici's accordion, Clarence Clemmons's tenor saxophone, Bruce's key to the city of Freehold were all displayed behind glass because they knew I was coming. There was an awards section as well where his Oscar, Grammys, Golden Globe, Kennedy Center Honor ribbon (seen here: http://www.mediaite.com/tv/jon-stewart-honors-bruce-springsteen-at-kennedy-center-honors-plus-sting-eddie-vedder-many-others/), AND a certificate from Blistex proclaiming his lips luscious. Ooh, ooh, Bruce, I've got a crush on you (and so do millions of others, apparently)! No photos were allowed inside the museum, but Bill and I posed for this gem:

The Cape May County Zooooo

2010-04-12T21:11:00.004-04:00

There's a short list of things I like to do in the Cape May area that are free. (Sometimes this matters more than others.) Along with walking along the bay, shooting photos of the sunset, visiting Jersey Shore Alpacas, and checking out the flowers at the Hereford Inlet Lighthouse, the Cape May County Zoo is a great way to spend some time. Every time I go, it seems that there are improvements and more people milling about. This Sunday I was almost disoriented with new buildings and new parking lots meant especially for zoo visitors. The old parking lots are now designated "park parking." Okay, I can deal with change.

First up is the barnyard: chickens, pigs, goats and sheep. I never get tired of these guys.

One of the things I like about this zoo is the elevated boardwalks:

These allow zoo visitors to walk above the more exotic animals and get great photos without a lot of bars and fences in the way. That's how I got these cool shots (along with my longer lens).

These nattily-dressed creatures are part of the African Savanna section:

This is the best photo I've gotten of this snow leopard in years of attempts. He is behind a fence and I somehow got it to blur! (Look at the size of those paws!)

I skipped the Aviary and the Reptile House this visit, because there's just too much to see in a short visit. The lion was reclining, and because of this not a great photo subject, but we could all hear him pretty much all over the zoo. I wonder what the other creature think of his roars!

Exploring the Formerly Scruffy, Always Charming, Cape May Point

2010-03-20T09:09:00.012-04:00

I am a tourist when I go to Cape May Point: I visit the lighthouse

and Sunset Beach.

I relax on the beach by the lighthouse which is now a state park. Birding is big there, but I seem to lack the birder's eye that can identify an unusual bird by just its tail feathers or the color of its feet.

I thought it might be fun to write a piece about Cape May Point, familiar to me but not quite. This quiet neighbor to uber-popular Cape May seems to have its own personality. I like exploring what lies beneath the surface of places.

As part of my research into what makes Cape May Point...Cape May Point, I interviewed Rich Chiemingo, a lifelong resident, at least in summers, and self-described Cape May Point hermit. He keeps busy today educating visitors of all ages about John Philip Sousa, Doo Wop music, the Cape May Point Lighthouse and the Twin Capes' involvement in World War II history

for Cape May's Mid-Atlantic Center for the Arts and Humanities. (http://capemaymac.com/index.html) Rich apologized that he was not exactly a font of knowledge. (What?!) He painted for me a picture of what it was like to be a kid in Cape May Point in the 1950s and 1960s as if he had just walked out of a "show, don't tell" writers' workshop. He described an idyllic existence (using all five senses!) cooking hotdogs in beach bonfires with cousins. Those same kids would wait under the fire station's siren pole waiting for the siren to blow while inhaling the smell of the pole's hot creosote. When the noise started they'd run screaming with their hands over their ears. Those tender bare feet would step on wild cactus that really hurt in the beginning of summer but by the end would toughen and not notice the cactus as much.

Television reception was terrible then, but there were Phillies games and Doo Wop music coming out of transistor radios and Rich's older cousin's black Oldsmobile convertible. His memories were at times like a mixture of mine and my older sister's: weekly trips to Cape May's boardwalk and the big annual Wildwood Boardwalk excursion.

I asked Rich what has changed since those magical childhood days and he had two big answers. First, the place has become more developed and more populated. (We agreed that the homes of today are gorgeous, though, and he added that Cape May Point's properties are consistently well-kept.) Rich used the word "scruffy" to describe those early days, but emphasized that he meant scruffy in a positive, natural, primitive and charming way. I know exactly what he means because my little section of beach paradise was like that, too, until the grandiose, modern beachfront homes started appearing in place of the tiny fishing shacks with concrete-block fences. (This scruffiness is close to what I call "Authentic Cape May" in another article.)

Rich's second answer was that he realized as a young adult that not every kid had this opportunity to run around barefoot all summer. Other kids got to go away for a week or two, but he got to spend the whole summer in this kids' paradise. Yup, it took me awhile to figure that out, too. I am no Oprah, and I dread doing interviews. I get this nagging feeling that I am being too nosey. With every interview I do, though, I come away with a new understanding of a person or a place and in this case, both! Rich's vivid memories fave me the spark to pursue this Cape May Point project.

Later that day I showed up with my camera at Sunset Beach on the edge of Cape May Point. I was surprised but delighted to find the parking lot full (in March), and the beach populated by others experiencing this little piece of authentic Cape May.

Philadelphia Flower Show 2010

2010-03-05T10:07:00.007-05:00

I went to the Philadelphia Flower Show Wednesday imagining the blissful afternoon I would spend flitting from one exhibit to another shooting inspired flower photos through Nikon glass. It would definitely be less crowded on a Wednesday than it is on the weekends, right? Wrong. After ninety minutes I had had enough of being pushed and nudged and hurried along, and I took my leave. The theme this year was "Passport to the World" and there were displays featuring New Zealand, Netherlands, South Africa, India, Brazil and Singapore. These, of course, were the most crowded of all.

I loved this elephant and stood there forever for this shot because some whiney brat's yellow smiley face balloon kept popping into the frame. anyway, look closely at the elephant's toes painted with sparkly nail polish. It's all in the details, right?

Lilies are always good for some good shots. Stick that camera right up in their faces:

There were many creative displays including this one with little globes of colored water suspended from the ceiling (or a frame, I don't remember) at different heights with assorted flora popping out.

I was surprised to see figs in portable pots. These are the same variety we've been growing at the Cape May house for longer than I have been alive, Turkey Brown. They are green because they are not yet ripe, of course.

These are two of my favorite shots. Just flowers, nothing fancy.

I should add that the Marketplace was not as crowded as the exhibits and I spent some time there. I only bought a small Flowering Maple that I will try to keep alive until summer. If anyone is wondering what to get me for my upcoming birthday, I would like a Bagz-it, an Air Chair, a complete re-landscaping of my backyard, and a special keepsake DVD of the 2010 Flower Show so's I can see what I missed.

In which Margaret survives for three days without electricity in a blizzard

2010-02-13T08:03:00.008-05:00

I drove to North Cape May ahead of the storm, on purpose, because it is so unusual for that area to get more than a few inches. I have rarely seen shovelable snow there, and I have known this house since before I was born. As this was a last-minute adventure decision, I didn't take much time to think about what I might need, but I tossed some extra candles, a candle lighter, warm sweatshirts and socks and easily-prepared food and baked goods into the car. I packed for Gladys the Sheltie, too, since she would be my blizzard partner. She had plenty of toys, food, treats and her little jacket that we call her barka.

The snow started right on schedule, and we watched in awe as it quickly covered the lawn and streets. The lights went out around 4:00 on Saturday. Snow was sticking to the window screens blocking any light from outside, and eventually it stuck to the window glass. In order to see what was going on out there, I had to open the door and peer out. Even with all the white snow it was incredibly dark outside because the bright streetlights were out.

I managed to light the gas log in the fireplace (the first time) for some light and warm. This involves going into the basement to turn a certain stiff valve with pliers and then turning a switch on the side of the fireplace contraption to let the gas out and then lighting the gas with the candle lighter. For a person terribly squeamish around fire and flammable gas (I will not have a gas grill), this was quite a feat. The house got colder each day and the number of blankets making up our hearth-nest grew to about six. At one point Gladys even got under the covers with me.

Cooking was easier because even though I had to light the gas stove the same way as the gas log, it seemed less threatening. However, the kitchen, being in the middle of the house, got dark early. My clip-on LED light and strategically-placed candles could not illuminate well enough to cook or clean up. I left everything I might need out on the counter for the dark time. One afternoon I made Rachael Ray's Zuppa Ossa Bucco (minus anchovies). It was delicious. Leftovers went out on the front porch in my snow-packed cooler.

I never did conquer the challenge of digging out. I made some nice paths in the thirty-inch snow from the front and side doors to the sidewalk, and the neighbor, Kevin, snow-blew the sidewalk. This made a great tunnel for Gladys to get some exercise (we call it the Glunnel).

It turned out very few people in the neighborhood bothered with sidewalks as digging out of cars was more of a priority for most. My car was parked on the street because we don't have a driveway at that house. Plows went by frequently and each time threw more boulders of icy snow into the snow fortification that separated my car from the icy street.
Over two days, I managed to clear a path to each car door

with the plan of clearing the snow away from the exhaust pipes on the third day. this way I could start up the car and sit in it for awhile with Gladys to take advantage of the heated air and seats.

I never got to this as Fred came down with a rescue generator and dug out my car as the house warmed. We were more worried about the house's pipes freezing than Gladys and me. The house had gotten down to the mid-forties--it lost about ten degrees each day. Gladys and I were warm as long as we stayed in our hearth-nest with a book.

I wore layers covered by the fuzzy blue (think Cookie Monster) robe Jeanne sent me for Christmas. That thing was blessedly warm, and sorry, but there are no photos of that. The borrowed generator brought the house heat back up to comfortable and gave me some electricity to charge my laptop, netbook and iPhone. I had sacrificed the laptop and netbook battery power to charge the iPhone, and was now down to nothing.

The next storm on Wednesday, the one that would turn out to be Snowmageddon for Central Jersey, would only blanket Cape May with (only!) six to twelve inches. The generator was going back to Central Jersey and I was preparing to break the news to Gladys that we were going to brave this one, too, when power was restored. I never packed up so fast--got back to Hamilton in time for Snowmageddon II: Central Jersey. Before heading north, though, we went south just a bit to shoot photos of Cape May City in the snow:

Junk Yard Shots

2010-02-05T08:04:00.006-05:00

I went to the auto junk yard last week with Fred, and until I got in trouble for shooting photographs (this was not posted, but who would anticipate it?) it was an interesting departure from the ordinary. By 'ordinary' I mean my 'ordinary' because Fred ordinarily comes here often. In fact, he visits all the local junkyards frequently for parts. The idea is this: you find an undamaged part, a wire, or a tire on a junker that works in your vehicle and you buy it for a fraction of the cost of a new one. The vehicles stay around the lot for around 30 days depending on whether new stock is coming in and they have to make room.Bring your tools, because you'll have to remove it yourself. We were in search of a tire for Fred's minivan and so lugged around a jack and a wrench, and other tools I cannot name. (Get it: lugged around?) I happily shot my photos until a guy in a big tractor-looking thing with a car-scooper in front told me no photos were allowed and watched us walk to the van and place the camera safely inside. No photos, fine, but really what horrible misdeeds could I commit? Here are some of those verboten photos carefully chosen so as to not reveal which lot we were at.

Since we were looking for minivan tires, we were mostly in the van/pick-up/SUV department:

Buddy, your back fell off.

Can you find the part you need in there? This spaghetti looks more complicated than usual to me.

This is what's under your bumpers, y'all:

The personal items strewn about was spooky to me. Why? Unless I were on a road trip somewhere and got into a bad wreck, there wouldn't be many personal items other than CDs in my car, and I would retrieve them promptly. Unless... There was one van with a whole lot of women's clothes in it and many brochures on driving under the influence.

While guys pulling parts from these junkers treat the vehicles with some respect (propping up the thing with a found object after removing a wheel for instance), the personal objects are thrown about all over. I suppose customers are hoping to find some treasure in there, but it just added to the gloominess of the place to me.

Scrapbook-a-palooza

2010-01-31T18:12:00.004-05:00

The actual event is called a crop, actually, because what we do is crop our photos (physically, with cutters) and then mount them on paper with all matter of stickers and cut paper. We write descriptions of the photos, which in scrapbooking is called journalling. A smart scrapper will organize her photos, stickers and tools before the crop so that she doesn't waste precious scrapping time trying to find those stickers she bought last week. There has never been a male scrapper at any of the crops I have been to, so if I use feminine nouns and pronouns here it's intentional. All ages of women show up with friends and family, and photos can be of children, grandchildren, nieces/nephews (Amy) travel (me mostly) or family events.

The crop I attended last weekend in Cape May was hosted by an outfit called Crop Classix. We met in the ballroom of a lovely oceanfront hotel (The Grand) and have access to wonderful paper cutting tools called die cuts, paper punchers, stampers and online scrapbooking tools. This is the long table with all the great die-cuts:

Pick a shape, border or letter from the display, find the corresponding template, and run it through those crank gizmos with any paper you like. Voila! Vendors set up at these things so that if you run out of glue (me) or layout ideas, there is help at hand. The event runs from Friday until Sunday, and croppers have the option of cropping around the clock if they wish. Amy, Maureen and I opted for the Two-Day Commuter Package which entitles us to half a banquet table each and the privilege of leaving our cropping tools set up from 9:00am Friday until 9:00am Sunday. We stayed at the Cape May house to save some money, but many of the ladies get rooms at the hotel and show up in pajamas to crop.

This is a great retreat where the time just flies by. Most ladies are productive at crops because there are no distractions other than the many tools, the vendors and nearby scrapping ladies. It takes awhile to set up all these tools and supplies, so the possibility of leaving everything out and ready to use for multiple days is worth the price. With so many other scrappers around, all one has to say is something like, "I need a snowflake," and offers of snowflake stickers and paper flood back. "I saw two sizes of die-cut snowflakes up there!" "I have these sparkly ones leftover. Use both if you want." Amy mentioned she was doing a gingerbread-themed page and got paper, a sticker alphabet and a fabric gingerbread border. Here's Amy in her space:

This year, we lucked out with what were probably the best seats in the house. We could see the ocean from our work areas and Amy and Maureen had two much-coveted outlets for their electrical scrapbooking tools. By turning my head 45 degrees to the left, here's what I saw:

Aesthetic Arrest

2010-01-27T19:49:00.007-05:00

Dr. Stimson Carrow introduced the concept of Aesthetic Arrest in a graduate Aesthetics course at Temple University. My classmate Dori and I snickered on the Broad Street Subway after class at the weighty pretentiousness of the term, but it turns out that the concept swirled through the remarkable minds and out through the pens of James Joyce and Joseph Campbell. Far be it from us to question the significance of Aesthetic Arrest.This is that phenomenon of being so overwhelmed with a thing of beauty that you just have to stop everything and stare. It can be a work of art, a scene in nature or even an original thought manifested in a well-built machine. Most of the time, it sneaks up on you. It's almost spiritual, or even completely spiritual.

Aesthetic Arrest snuck up on me Monday. It rained all morning and into the afternoon, and the accompanying wind was strong enough to knock out my phone service. Then the sun came out and I took Gladys (the dog) for a walk along the bay. I brought my Nikon along so that I could shoot some winter beach scenes for another project.

The bright post-storm sunlight changed to that magical golden light that happens just before the sun sets. I love to photograph Gladys in that light, but I think that goldenness would make anyone look good. The clouds were spectacular, probably from the edge of the storm.

Gradually, as I shot some photos for my project, the lovely golden light morphed into an oddly dark, filtered light. The residual storm clouds were covering up the sun, ruining the sunset for those folks in parked cars up on the street. Some of those clouds looked rather threatening and I thought I should probably get Gladys and my Nikon home safe and dry.

I could not get enough, though. It was Aesthetic Arrest for sure. I had never seen the bay quite like this and I have been coming to this beach at every time of day, in every season, for decades. I took more than my share of gorgeous photos.

Anyone know of a good contest?

Vizcaya

2010-01-03T15:39:00.006-05:00

While in Florida last month we visited the Vizcaya Museum and Gardens formerly known as James Deering's winter home. He was the Vice President of International Harvester Company known for its reapers. (Agricultural equipment.) This guy had oodles of money and also maintained homes in Chicago, Paris and New York. This is where he spent his winter months from 1916 to 1925. It wasn't just a mansion but a great experiment in self-sufficiency. Materials and supplies were hard to come by a century ago in remote Miami, so Deering hoped that the workers on his estate could grow, manufacture and build everything they needed to survive. Sixteen to eighteen servants worked inside the mansion while During was away and twenty-six (!!) gardeners keep the gardens manicured. It seemed to work for awhile, until a catastrophic hurricane ruined everything in 1925.

The mansion was rebuilt by Deering's descendants after another earthquake in 1936, but some changes were made in order to preserve the interior. The open courtyard was enclosed by windowed walls in the front and back, and a glass roof covered the enormous courtyard. Prior to this, if you stepped out of your guestroom, you'd be standing on the wide tiled gallery in open air looking over the courtyard. (Hmm, kind of like a classy version of a Motel 6.) The house has a total of thirty-six rooms including a music room, a library and a state-of-the-art kitchen for then. The wealthy of that time saw themselves as successors to the Great European Families, and in order to make this clear to visitors, they collected Great European Art. Vizcaya retains most of its original antique furniture and art from the fifteenth to nineteenth centuries.

Off the East Loggia is the Biscayne Bay. Visitors arriving by boat were greeted by a huge limestone barge which acted as a breakwater. On one side of the barge is a special dock and walkway,

and on the opposite side is a tea house. These elements extend the architecture of the house into the Biscayne Bay which, by the way, was especially choppy the day I visited.

The formal gardens are off the South Terrace. The gardens are full of sculptures and structures made of concrete and coral. Almost everyday there are fifteen-year-old girls getting their portraits taken for their Quinceanera (that 'n' has a wiggly line over it) celebrations. We counted five lavishly gowned young ladies the day we were there. The ten-acre garden includes a maze garden, a hardwood forest or "hammock," the David A. Klein Orchidarium and many varieties of palm trees.

Photography is not allowed inside the mansion, so if you would like to take a tour, please visit Vizcaya's website: http://www.vizcayamuseum.org. The estate has been owned and maintained by Miami-Dade County since 1952 and has been declared a National Historic Landmark.