Faux Pas

Faux Pas
( or how I learned first hand the meaning of the term)

My husband, Sam, was on the board of directors of his company, a major accounting firm, and he made many overseas trips and I frequently accompanied him. Our first trip to Paris was a delight. Remembering all the movies I had seen which featured Paris locales, I felt like Gigi as we stood on the observation deck of the Eiffel Tower and gazed out over the city. We walked along the Seine and stepped into the grandeur of Notre Dame Cathedral. We visited the Louvre and marveled at the Mona Lisa. We strolled down the Avenue des Champs Ellesse to the Arch d'Triumphe. We dined at La Tour d'Argent. The dining room features an excellent view of the river Seine at night.. We toured Versailles

Neither of us knew a word of French but we got along just fine but before we returned on another trip to France I determined to learn at least a smattering of the language. I started attending classes at the local Alliance Française ,an international French language school, which has a branch in Atlanta.

We watched videos of Pierre and Mirerre, a French couple, and their adventures.Then we repeated the dialogue and acted out the scenes in French. Madame Saporta allowed only French spoken in the classroom so we quickly learned to converse a little.

Having no grasp of the grammatical aspect of the language, I decided to sign on for another class at Georgia State University in addition to the French 101. Since I would be driving to the downtown campus anyway, I decided to take another class while I was there. I chose Political Science the second semester as it dovetailed time wise with the French course.

The first day in the Poly Sci course I realized I had made a mistake in choosing this class.. It was in a large classroom of the amphitheater type. I prefer smaller classes.The professor was boring and bossy. Immediately she stated that all students in the class would have to divide up into groups of 6 or 8 and study and research together on their own time. Baloney, I said to myself. I am way past the age of these students and besides, I am just here to fill in a block of time, although I do have an interest in political science. Long story short I immediately dropped the course and simply stuck with the French.

The next week, back at Alliance Francaise, Madame Saporta was registering our small class for the current session. I was standing at Madame Saporta's desk while another student, Albert Andrews, waited to sign up for the class. Making small talk I told them about my experience in the Poly Sci class and how I had not liked the BORING professor and had dropped the course.

Albert Andrews, a grey haired man of about 50 listened intently. Then he asked what was the Poly Sci professor's name.

I said her name was ---- Professor Joyce Morris, Why do you ask?

He said "That is my wife. She retained her maiden name".

Drop through the floor time on my part. But we all just had a good laugh and went on into class to converse in rudimentary French.













Main Entry: FAUX PAS
Pronunciation: 'fO-"pä, fO-'
Function: noun
Inflected Form(s): plural faux pas /-"pä(z), -'pä(z)/
Etymology: French, literally, false step
: BLUNDER; especially : a social blunder

"Enemy women"

I have written before about the great book sale that takes place at my neighborhood library each month. It is staffed by volunteers and the books are NOT library rejects but donations from people in the area. Many times I run across best sellers or books by a favorite author or just a book I have never heard of before which looks promising.

I enjoy the book sale. I have always loved browsing in the library, but the book sale is even better. The proceeds go to our neighborhood library and they are used to buy books or equipment. And also, when I have finished reading one of my sale books I simply return it to be resold.

On a recent Saturday afternoon, the last day of the book sale, they featured an "all the books you can stuff in a plastic grocery bag for $5.00" sale. I already had about 6 hardback books in my plastic bag but I had room for one more and I spied a book, "Enemy Women," that peaked my interest mainly because it had a sticker that said "Read This" by "Good Morning America" So I said to myself,what the heck, I might like it, and in the bulging plastic bag it went.

I put off starting "Enemy Women" for some time but then one day with nothing else interesting to read that struck my fancy, I picked it up and started to read.

I could not put it down. One of the best books I have ever read.I finished it in about 2 days and one night I read until 2AM.


If you like historical novels that focus on the ordinary people in epic struggles, try "Enemy Women"

What have you read recently that you would recommend?




This review from "AMAZON.COM

"Enemy Women, the outstanding first novel by poet Paulette Jiles, leads us into new terrain, both geographic and historical, in the war between the states. Set in the Missouri Ozarks during the Civil War, Jiles's story focuses on the trying times of 18-year-old heroine Adair Colley. When a group of renegade Union militiamen attacks the Colley home, stealing family possessions, burning everything down, and taking away her father--an apolitical judge--Adair gathers the remnants of her clothes and mounts a rescue effort. Unfortunately, she is falsely accused of being a Confederate spy, a charge that lands her in a squalid women's prison run by a decent commandant embarrassed by his post. After he helps her escape, the two agree to seek out one another after the war; their separate, harrowing journeys and the evolution of each character throughout make for breathtaking action and powerful writing. Each chapter of Enemy Women begins with excerpts from historical testimony about this terrible period in the Civil War, when marauding soldiers pillaged and murdered whole families and communities at will. These documents add depth and resonance to Jiles's remarkable narrative."

And this from another reviewer on Amazon

"With researcher's eye Ms. Jiles has illuminated a little known aspect of Civil War history, the incarceration of women. Her prose is artful, describing a new leaf as "already as large as a squirrel's ear, " or a man with "a pair of jaws like church pews." Painful in its authenticity, poetically rendered, Enemy Women is a book that will not be forgotten"

Nice Thoughts

I don't remember where I read these but they are "keepers"


"Living on Earth is expensive, but it does include a free trip around
the sun.

Birthdays are good for you: the more you have the longer you live.

How long a minute is depends on what side of the bathroom door
you're on.

I have noticed that the people who are late are often so much
jollier than the people who have to wait for them.

If ignorance is bliss, why aren't more people happy?

Most of us go to our grave with our music still inside of us.

If Wal-Mart is lowering prices every day, how come nothing in the
store is free yet?

You may be only one person in the world, but you may also be the
world to one person.

Some mistakes are too much fun to only make once.

Don't cry because its over; smile because it happened.

We could learn a lot from crayons: some are sharp, some are pretty,
some are dull, some have weird names, and all are different
colors ... but they all have to learn to live in the same box.

Everything should be made as simple as possible, but no simpler.

A truly happy person is one who can enjoy the scenery on a detour.

Happiness comes through doors you didn't even know you left open"

Remembering

On our second date, we went to Jennings Rose Room, a night club, dance hall and Sam talked me into trying a “Singapore Sling. When we returned to my apartment I felt the effects of the “Singapore Sling” when I sat down and totally missed the kitchen chair. I was so embarrassed but Sam said “Oh don’t worry. We will tell our “grandchildren about it”. I said, “YOU will tell YOUR grandchildren about it.”
Meaning, I am not signing on for a lifetime with YOU BUDDY. We just met.


However, as it turned out we were married on November 22, 1951, Thanksgiving Day. We had met on September 13, 1951. How’s that for a whirlwind romance?

I knew right away that Sam was the one for me and he says he knew immediately also.

We wanted a church wedding, but small and simple since neither of us nor our parents had any money for a big wedding. I started planning, asking around at work, and making phone calls and secured the small chapel at Glenn Memorial Methodist Church on the campus of Emory University. A friend at work told me about the chapel and said that it was a fine place for a small wedding. We were entranced by the beauty of the little chapel.


“The Little Chapel was designed by Philip Trammel Schutze and modeled after London's St. Stephen Walbrook Church, one of Sir Christopher Wren's masterpieces.
The Little Chapel is almost a replica in miniature of the English prototype, combining within the narrow limits of its rectangular walls the central dome and the traditional English church plan with nave, side aisles, chancel, and, in effect, crossing transepts. Most exciting of all is the dome, with its finely molded plaster ornamentation and the eight arches that rise from the architrave to support it. The contrast between the white walls and ceilings and the oak woodwork is intensified in the white and black squares of the tessellated floor. The beautifully carved woodwork at the front and back is in the Grinling Gibbons manner. It was executed by H.J. Millard, who learned his skill in his native England. His joyful offering of festooned fruit, flowers, and vegetables includes pinecones, peaches, dogwood, camellias, and magnolias, all borrowed from the Georgia landscape.”



I wore a pale blue lace dress, ballerina length, and a small hat of blue with a half veil. I wore elbow length navy blue gloves and navy shoes. I carried a small white Bible with a white orchid on top. My mother had given me this Bible the preceding Easter. of 1951. Sam wore a double breasted navy blue suit. My one attendant was a friend, Peggy G, and Sam’s best man was Bill M, a good friend and co worker. Bill remains a friend to this day , 56 years later. My brother Tommy gave me away and his minister, Reverend Alvin Barker married us. My mother was dressed in a grey blue dress with a pill box hat and white gloves. She looked lovely and was so proud and happy

We only had a few days off from work so we stayed in town and went to the Atlanta Biltmore Hotel for our short honeymoon. We have some lovely black and white professional photos of our wedding. We both look so young and happy. Who knew we would still be happy and content with each other and the life and family we had made 56 years later.

We are blessed.















Link

Rain, Rain, Rain

Blessed Rain
Singing in the Rain
A Rainy Night in Georgia

And all of the above.
Yesterday and the day before we had several nice rains. Some thunder too. Not enough to end the awful drought we have had here in Georgia but any amount is welcome after long weeks of total dryness.

The weather man is even promining more rain in the next several days.

Thanks be to God!












Link

Crafty Cats

Frank Paynter posted an interesting lost cat story on Ronni Bennett's "THE ELDER STORY TELLING PLACE". It reminded me of this long ago happening.



Many years ago, when my husband and I bought our first, small house, we had a large lot with deep,Georgia, pine woods behind it.

Our tom cat, named "Tom" was a few years old back then and we let him out to have free reign of the woods while we were away at work.

When we returned in the late afternoon, early evening, it did no good to simply call "Here kitty kitty'. "Here Tom. Come"

Since we had no children back then we had spoiled our jet black tom cat by, (you won't believe this) thawing frozen fish and feeding it to him.

If it was not completely thawed we would cut the pieces with a sharp knife on a wooden cutting board. This made a high pitched screeching sound. Scrape, scrape the sound reverberated through the back yard as we stood on the patio and called.

Alerted by the delicious sound, like a bat out of hell,Tom appeared from the woods, jumped the fence and followed us inside for his "fish supper"

Many times afterwards we "called" Tom by simply scraping the empty wooden cutting board.

Dirty trick, I suppose, but it worked

5 minutes of rain today

and one clap of thunder. Then later in the day, another 5 minutes of rain. But hey, at least it is a start and the birdies got a good bath..

Maybe tomorrow we will be blessed with 15 minutes of rain.

STILL no rain

Can you believe it. Not a drop of rain has fallen around here since I do not remember when. We are in the city of Atlanta and the watering restrictions are fierce, but luckily we have a tiny yard with our townhouse. I do have impatiens and mondo and liriope that I must give a drink now and again.

We can only water one day on the weekend and that is from 12 midnight to 10 AM on Saturday. I have fudged a little since I do not get up early and I don't want to break my neck turning on the hose in the dark.

Oh Well... as they say.."it wasn't raining when Noah built the Ark"
You gotta have hope.

Update on the smoke-and planning a rain dance soon.

Our air conditioning was off from Monday night to Wednesday afternoon late (the compressor died) so I spent a lot of time outside on the porch and also had the doors open. I didn't think about the effects of the smoke inhalation but I should have since I have some asthmatic tendencies and besides, I am no spring chicken. So as of yesterday I am staying inside as much as possible. I am fighting hoarseness, sinus and the whole nine yards. BUMMER!!

Amazing isn't it? Here I am over 200 miles away from the wildfires and feeling the effects of the smoke.

From today's weather update:


"...SMOKE FROM THE SOUTHEAST GEORGIA WILDFIRES CONTINUES TO SPREAD
ACROSS PORTIONS OF NORTH AND CENTRAL GEORGIA...

WINDS ALOFT HAVE ALLOWED SMOKE FROM THE SOUTHEAST GEORGIA
WILDFIRES TO SPREAD INTO PORTIONS OF NORTH AND CENTRAL GEORGIA
THIS MORNING. VISIBILITIES WILL REDUCE FROM 1 TO 3 MILES AT TIMES
IN THE SMOKE. AS THE SUN RISES THROUGH THE DAY AND WARMS THE
GROUND...EASTERLY WINDS WILL INCREASE AND ALLOW THE SMOKE TO
DISSIPATE SLIGHTLY. HOWEVER...AREAS TO THE NORTH AND WEST OF A
LINE FROM PINEVIEW...TO MACON...TO WASHINGTON CAN EXPECT TO SEE
SMOKE ON AND OFF THROUGH THE DAY.

PEOPLE WITH RESPIRATORY PROBLEMS...AS WELL AS THE ELDERLY AND VERY
YOUNG SHOULD REMAIN INDOORS"

Click on this POST TITLE TO VIEW AN EXAMPLE OF A RAIN DANCE I WOULD
TRY IF I WERE MORE TALENTED AND AGILE.

Where there's smoke

You have probably read about or seen news reports about the horrific forest fires that have been burning in south Georgia and that have moved into northern Florida.

I had not realized the intensity of the fires and how far north the smoke could travel until yesterday, when in the early morning hours the smoke on the horizon near our home looked like dense, grey fog. The smell was awful. My eyes burned. And Atlanta is about 200 miles from the forest fires that have been raging in south Georgia for over two months.

All of Georgia is suffering from a terrible drought.

"MACON, GA (May 23, 2007) - The Georgia Forestry Commission is asking for every Georgian’s help in preventing wildfire this Memorial Day weekend. With a serious drought underway and record-breaking fires in south Georgia still burning, the risk of wildfire demands strict vigilance with all ignitable materials.

“I can’t ever remember a time when so much of Georgia was at class 5 fire danger,” said Alan Dozier, Chief of Forest Protection with the Georgia Forestry Commission (GFC). Class 5 is the highest level of measurable fire risk on GFC fire danger scales. “Our resources are stretched to the maximum with the south Georgia fires, so outbreaks anywhere else will present a real challenge. We need Georgians to pitch in and help prevent wildfires.”

As families begin spending more time outdoors this holiday weekend, fire risks can increase. Dozier advised extreme caution when enjoying campfires and cookouts. Fireworks pose a very high risk and are not advised. Lawn equipment on dry grass and the disposal of cigarettes should also be carefully monitored.

“Very simply, these drought conditions mean one stray spark can cause a ravaging wildfire,” said Dozier. “We want people to have an enjoyable summer, but it can easily go up in smoke if everybody’s not careful.”

Today an east wind blew in with a slight breeze that dissipated most of the smoke.
For that I am thankful.

My heart aches for those living near the fire area. They must be really suffering.

Please join me in praying for rain.

Mother's Day

When I was growing up the custom on Mother's Day was to wear a flower honoring our mothers. If your mother was living you wore a red rose or other flower. If she was deceased you wore a white flower. I do not know if this was just a southern custom or if was nation wide.

My father died when I was nine but my mother lived to be 91 years old. When she died I was 55. I was fortunate to have her for so long. She got to enjoy our three children and they were devoted to her. She lived with us for 13 years and we had a built in sitter when my husband and I went out.

Today, there is so much I would like to talk over with my Mother. Now that I too have grown old, I understand the aches and pains and concerns and worries that she had back then. When I was younger I simply did not have enough patience and empathy and for that I am sorry.

Now, every night as I turn the living room lights off I pass by my Mother's picture when she was a young woman of about 25, I blow her a kiss goodnight and tell her that I love her.

All I can do now is hope she understands.

"Scents" of smell

Roger B. on his most excellent blog, "There's Always Something" recently posted about some of his favorite scents:

This got me to thinking so I commented to Roger:



"Roger, this post conjured up so many glorious smells for me and yes, sometimes we are not appreciative enough of all our senses.

One scent that stayed with me for years was, indeed, "the scent of a woman." When my husband and I lived in Washington D.C. for 4 years we had an apartment at the Watergate. Claire Boothe Luce, the widow of Henry Luce who started "Time" and "Life" magazines, had two penthouse apartments there and we would sometimes ride the elevator with her. I always silently admired the lovely scent about her. Not too sweet, not overpowering, but just right.

Some years later, when we were back in Atlanta I started remembering the scent of Mrs. Luce's perfume and I wanted to duplicate it if possible. But how to find out. Claire Boothe Luce was now deceased.

I decided to Google her name and I came up with a book by Letitia Baldridge who was Mrs Luce's personal assistant for many years including when she served as Ambassador to Rome from the US. I found the book, and lo and behold. Ms Baldridge revealed that Mrs Luce wore the French perfume, "Joy" by Jean Patou. She mixed it with another lighter fragrance.

Amazing what one can discover with a "good Google"

My sweet husband bought me a bottle of "Joy" last Mother's Day and I mix it with "Cefiro" by Floris of London

Works for me:)"


(Check out Roger's blog by clicking on title to this post.)
...

What are some of your favorite aromas? Cinnamon apple pie baking in the oven, honey suckle on a summer's evening, a baby's skin after a refreshing bath...a fresh Christmas tree-------
or whatever

Dogs I have known and loved

In about 1937, as an eight year old I got my first dog, a brown and white beagle puppy. We named him Mickey after the cartoon character, Mickey Mouse. Mickey was an outside dog who ran free where ever he chose. No leash laws then and not much car traffic. He belonged to me and my older brother, Donald. When Donald went into the Navy during WW2, Mickey became my responsibility. He was a good dog and lots of fun He would sit on the front steps with me and at night we would gaze up at the clear, smog free sky and admire the Big and Little Dipper and all the bright stars twinkling above. Mickey was like a best friend for a little girl whose Father died when she was nine.

I did not have another dog until I was all grown up, married and my first child was born. When my daughter was about 4 years old, she started begging and pleading for a puppy. My husband and I looked in the newspaper and saw an ad for "Pug" puppies. I had never seen a Pug dog so we decided one Sunday to ride over to the seller's house and just "take a look" at the dogs. (you understand, we are NOT buying a dog, just looking). But of course we came back with an adorable little puppy. Who could resist those huge eyes and that curly tail. We named her "Lady"

Next there was a Collie dog we bought from my husband's secretary whose dog has just had a litter. I have to say this Collie was the dumbest dog I have ever known. She followed the children to school. She ran off and got locked in the unfinished basement of a house about 2 miles away. This was in a small town like suburb so we were not too surprised when one day "Lassie" came riding home in the back seat of a police patrol car. She was sitting up like the Queen of Sheba and enjoying herself immensely. It was pouring down rain and the policeman had spread his raincoat on the back seat to keep it dry and avoid wet dog fur and smell.

Then there was a precious little puppy that we named Sugar. She was a snow white West Highland White Terrier with a black button nose. We bred Sugar to a neighbor's Westie but it did not take. Later we bred her to another Westie and she produced two puppies which we gave away. Sugar was a real sweetheart. And smart too.

Our last dog was Mollie, an English Springer Spaniel, that my son chose for his sixteeth birthday. He spent many hours training Mollie and she turned out to be the best dog ever. Smart, obedient, fun, loyal. All the best attributes one wishes for in a companion dog. When our son went off to college, Mollie and I became inseparable friends.

Now I have grand dogs. Bella, the Havanese, comes to visit sometimes. When our daughter and her family are out of town we keep Bella and I pretend she is mine.

At my age a grand dog is the best of all worlds; just like grandchildren, spoil them and then send them home.

Are you a dog person? Tell us about it.

"Closet Disorder"

If you visited my home you would think I was the neatest, most organized person on the planet. You would not see any old newspapers or magazines on the floors or tables, no dishes in the sink, no crumbs on the counter tops. No clothes draped across the treadmill or chairs. All the wash is done and clothes immediately folded and put away.

But don't you dare open my closets. Disaster. My bedroom closet has been calling my name loudly every time I open it for several weeks now but I chose not to answer with action. Until this morning. I started to just rearrange the mess of winter and summer clothes and boxes and shoes but I got brave and took everything out and laid the clothes on my bed to sort our and make some decisions as to what to retain and what to toss.

So, now instead of tackling the job at hand I decided I should sit down at the computer and check out Ronni Bennett"s blog,"Time Goes By" and stop by and see what "Maya's Granny" is up to in Alaska after she was kind enough to comment on Driftwood. I also read about Rosie O'Donnell leaving(fired-let go) "The View".

I know my lack of action comes under the heading of procrastination and I should get busy, but I just looked out the window to see the sunshine and blue sky I am wasting by doing drudge work.

So what should I do? Go for a walk and leave the clothes and closet until tomorrow when rain is forecast?

Sounds like a good idea to me.

But what about all the clothes on my bed?

Nice weather at last

I hope all of you are enjoying some of this delightful springtime weather now that winter has finally retreated into it's dark den for good.

I trust I did not speak too soon as just about 10 days ago we were surprised with barely 25 degree nights and some sleet during the day which is unheard of in Atlanta in April. Now, however, it is sunny and calm with a temperature of about 75 balmy degrees.

The pink azaleas in front of my town house have finished blooming and the pansy bed which bloomed all winter has been replaced with multi-colored pink and white impatiens. I don't have quite enough shade for impatiens but I love them so I cross my fingers and do a lot of watering when the hot, hot days of summer arrive.

What's going on weather wise in your little corner of the world?

Youthanasia

I got a chuckle out of this definition in today's New York Times Style Magazine





"Youthanasia / (yooth en azhe) / n. / a neologism for the controversial practice of performing a battery of age-defying medical procedures to end lifeless skin and wrinkles; advocated by some as a last-resort measure to put the chronically youth-obsessed out of their misery: “My doctor was on the fence about youthanasia, but I whined so much that he finally agreed to perform my abdominoplasty, mammoplasty and rhytidectomy, all at once.” Think of it as mercy lifting"

Elder Story Telling Place

Check out Ronni Bennett's new blog, "Elder Story Telling Place," which she just started a little over a week ago. Ronni is one talented blogger and full of interesting new ideas.

Mick Brady, Cowtown Pattie, Tamar, Norm Jensen, Colleen Shannon and I have posted short stories recently.

Drop by when you can. (click on title for link)

PS: I posted this last year on Ronni's birthday and it reminds me of Elder Story Telling and also what an inspiration Ronni Bennett is for us all.
....




"Serendipity ...( The faculty of making fortunate discoveries by accident. )


One fine day I packed a picnic lunch and set out on a ramble to search for blogs and articles on "Aging." I wandered over to Google and quickly came across "Time Goes By," the blog on positive aging by Ronni Bennett. As I lingered there I came across a group of people, friends, comrades in arms gathered around a wise elder blogger. I pulled up a tree stump and sat down around the camp fire and felt the warmth of good fellowship as I read the diary entries and comments.

I lingered in the forest, absorbing the camaraderie, advice, issues, concerns, and just plain old fashioned horse sense. Soon I could no longer allow myself to simply lurk behind a tree on the periphery and read; I jumped in and commented occasionally.

From the central point in the woods of "Time Goes By" I followed the path that Ronni had pointed out in her links. This path has taken me to Japan, Scotland, France, England, the North, South, East and West of the US. I became acquainted with bloggers from all over the world. Still, I always come back to the incandescence of Ronni's "Time Goes By."

Thank you Ronni for sharing your many talents with us all and leading us into the realm of positive aging."

Wisdom Of Larry the Cable Guy

I LIKE NUMBER 21 BEST

The Wisdom of Larry the Cable Guy

1. A day without sunshine is like night.

2. On the other hand, you have different fingers.

3. 42.7 percent of all statistics are made up on the spot.

4. 99 percent of lawyers give the rest a bad name.

5. Remember, half the people you know are below average.

6. He who laughs last thinks slowest.

7. Depression is merely anger without enthusiasm.

8. The early bird may get the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese in
the trap.

9. Support bacteria. They're the only culture some people have.

10. A clear conscience is usually the sign of a bad memory.

11. Change is inevitable, except from vending machines.

12. If you think nobody cares, try missing a couple of payments.

13. How many of you believe in psycho-kinesis? Raise my hand.

14. OK, so what's the speed of dark?

15. When everything is coming your way, you're in the wrong lane.

16. Hard work pays off in the future. Laziness pays off now.

17. How much deeper would the ocean be without sponges?

18. Eagles may soar, but weasels don't get sucked into jet engines

19. What happens if you get scared half to death, twice?

20. Why do psychics have to ask you for your name?

21. Inside every older person is a younger person wondering, "What the heck
happened?"

22. Just remember -- if the world didn't suck, we would all fall off.

23. Light travels faster than sound. That's why some people appear bright
until you hear them speak

Yellow dust

Robert Brady at Pureland Blogger (Living in Japan) wrote about the yellow dust everywhere outside his mountain home in Japan:(click on title for link)

" Then I remembered all the yellow days in Tokyo back in the seventies when I lived there, the kousa days that came in early Spring, when the high winds lifted up the dust from the Gobi Desert in China and blew it all the way to Japan. I hadn't noticed it this far south before, but here it was, dusting everything a light yellow, including me."

Here in Atlanta, Georgia we have had the "yellow dust" of a different variety for about 10 days now. The pollen count has been over 5000's for many days and over 150 is rated extremely high.The pollen is from pine trees and also oak beech and several others. I have a problem with this pollen getting into my chest and making me extremely hoarse if I am out for any length of time.

But yesterday and today we had some wonderfully heavy rain which is washing away the yellow stuff.

Glory be to God for small favors.

Exotic Gardening

What's the most exotic plant you have ever grown?

I suppose mine would be an avocado tree that I grew from a pit. I stuck 3 toothpicks in the avocado pit and put it in a glass of water, suspended by the toothpicks, placed it in a sunny window and waited for it to sprout. Sprout it did and in no time it grew into about a 4 foot tall "tree". I took care of it tenderly and eventually planted it in a pot.

Now after reading this article below:

I want my own spaghetti tree:


"A plantation of 57 spaghetti trees imported from Britain as seedlings in 1957 has been destroyed by bushfires. "It's a heinous tragedy," said Australia's Prime Minister. "We will all have to eat baked beans this year."

Exactly 50 years ago today, broadcaster Richard Dimbleby showed BBC viewers a documentary film of a Swiss family picking spaghetti from a tree and placing it out to dry in the sun.

The BBC switchboard was swamped with callers wanting to know how they could grow their own spaghetti trees. "Place a sprig of spaghetti in a tin of tomato sauce and hope for the best," they were advised.


and this

Spaghetti Harvester

"On April 1, 1957 the British news show, Panorama, broadcast a segment about a bumper spaghetti harvest in southern Switzerland. The success of the crop was attributed to an unusually mild winter. The audience heard Richard Dimbleby, the show's highly respected anchor, discussing the details of the spaghetti crop as they watched a rural Swiss family pulling pasta off spaghetti trees and placing it into baskets.

"The spaghetti harvest here in Switzerland is not, of course, carried out on anything like the tremendous scale of the Italian industry," Dimbleby informed the audience. "Many of you, I'm sure," he continued, "will have seen pictures of the vast spaghetti plantations in the Po valley. For the Swiss, however, it tends to be more of a family affair."

The narration then continued in a tone of absolute seriousness:

"Another reason why this may be a bumper year lies in the virtual disappearance of the spaghetti weevil, the tiny creature whose depradations have caused much concern in the past."

Dimbleby anticipated some questions viewers might have. For instance, why, if spaghetti grows on trees, does it always come in uniform lengths? The answer was that "this is the result of many years of patient endeavor by past breeders who succeeded in producing the perfect spaghetti."


Blurry photo of Swiss family harvesting spaghettiAnd apparently the life of a spaghetti farmer was not free of worries: "The last two weeks of March are an anxious time for the spaghetti farmer. There's always the chance of a late frost which, while not entirely ruining the crop, generally impairs the flavor and makes it difficult for him to obtain top prices in world markets."

But finally, Dimbleby assured the audience that, "For those who love this dish, there's nothing like real, home-grown spaghetti."

From Eric Shakel's EBOOK
(click on link above in title)