A Year of Blogging: September 14, 2011

September 14 is 'National Cream-filled Donut' Day. That sounds like a yummy day. In New York, we call a cream-filled donut a Boston Creme. I forget what they are called here in Ohio, but the first time I went into a bakery and asked for one, I got funny looks from the staff. Although, actually, a Boston Creme has the creme (or custard) inside, and chocolate icing on top. I know Dunkin Donuts makes other kinds of cream-filled donuts. They take a jelly donut shell and fill it with either a vanilla or chocolate cream that is really sweet. It's almost too sweet. I like Boston Creme donuts, even though I know they are so bad for me. Well, not like any donut is really good for you! But it just seems like the donut, the chocolate icing, and the custard all really conspire against you. Since I missed Jelly Donut day in June, I'll share a funny story about Jelly Donuts here. When my Mom was pregnant with me, she and Dad were visiting his Grandma Primeau, who lived outside Montreal in a rural area. That evening, Mom started craving Jelly Donuts. Dad pointed out the closest place to get donuts was back in Plattsburgh, NY- about an hour and a half away. Great-Grandma Primeau immediately got on Dad's case. As a young girl/teenager in Montana, she remembered a baby being born that was inconsolable. She said the baby cried and cried all the time, so the doctor was sent for. When the doctor arrived, he asked the mother what she had craved during pregnancy. The mother said bananas. Which were hard to find in Montana in the early 1900's. The doctor gave my Great-Grandma money and told her to ride (her horse) until she found bananas. When she returned with the bananas, the doctor mashed them up and gave them to the baby and the baby stopped crying. Great-Grandma remembered that and felt women should always eat what they craved. Dad says she hit him with her pocketbook and told her to go get donuts. Dad is 6'3" and his Grandmother stood barely 5' tall I think. It's a funny image to picture her hitting him. Dad went to Plattsburgh and bought Mom jelly donuts. And do you know what? I've never liked jelly donuts!

A Year of Blogging: September 13, 2011

There were so many options to choose from today. It is 'Defy Superstition Day', 'Fortune Cookie Day', 'National Peanut Day', and 'Positive Thinking Day'. As I pondered which one to tackle, my eyes scrolled down a little further and found one more thing to celebrate today. And I knew, this one, I just had to do. So settle in, it's time for a history lesson. About what else? New York! September 13 is 'Uncle Sam' day. Uncle Sam is the fictional personification of the US Government. Perhaps you've seen his picture around. Uncle Sam's roots trace back to the War of 1812. The story is that a meat packer in Troy, NY named Samuel Wilson supplied barrels of beef to the US Army. Wilson stamped the barrels with "U.S." for 'United States' but the soldiers started referring to it as 'Uncle Sam's'. Once the media (a newspaper) picked up the story, it went viral. Or the 1812 equivilent of viral. Uncle Sam came to symbolize the government of the United States. Several artists created images of Uncle Sam. His image was used on recruitment posters during WWI. In 1961 Congress issued a resolution recognizing "Uncle Sam" Wilson and authorizing a monument to be built in Troy, NY near his longtime home. Troy took that and ran with it. Troy is very proud of Uncle Sam. Signs welcoming you to the city welcome you to the 'Home of Uncle Sam'. Uncle Sam is buried in Oakwood Cemetery, one of the largest rural cemeteries in the country. Signs in the cemetery point you to Uncle Sam's grave. Each year, Troy holds an 'Uncle Sam Parade'. The 36th annual event steps off at 12:45pm on Sunday, September 18 (it is being held AFTER Uncle Sam day this year so as not to interfere with the 9/11 memorials). A month or so before the parade, the city holds a 'Miss Uncle Sam' pageant. Girls ages 2-18 can enter, as long as they are a resident of the county. There is a 'Tiny Miss Uncle Sam' (ages 2-3), a 'Little Miss Uncle Sam' (ages 4-6), a 'Young Miss Uncle Sam' (ages 7-9), a 'Pre-Teen Miss Uncle Sam' (ages 10-12), a 'Teen Miss Uncle Sam' (ages 13-15), and finally, a 'Miss Uncle Sam' (ages 16-18). The parade is a very big deal in Troy. I read somewhere that Uncle Sam is possibly the most recognizable figure in the entire world. I'm not sure about that. But I know he's the favorite son in Troy.

A Year of Blogging: September 12, 2011

September 12 is 'Chocolate Milkshake Day'. I'm beginning to think the people who create these special days are a bunch of chocoholics. Seems like every time I turn around we've got some kind of chocolate to celebrate. Not that there's anything wrong with it (except it makes me want chocolate!) I like milkshakes, but my preferred flavor is coffee. Although I still can't drink a coffee milkshake without thinking back to the days when I had braces. My teeth were in a terrible state before braces. My eye teeth overlapped the teeth next to them. My mouth, according to the dentist, was too small to hold all the teeth it needed to hold. My mother has always disputed the claim that my mouth was too small! I went on my 13th birthday for the consultation with the orthodontist. I spent my summer running between the dentist and the orthodontist getting spacers, teeth removed, and finally- the braces. I had braces for three years. My jaw had to be completely realigned. I was allergic to the metal in the braces, so I had to wear rubber 'bumpers' on the exposed metal parts. I went to the orthodontist every 4-6 weeks. Each time they made an adjustment, I left with my mouth hurting. Some nights I could eat soft food, and sometimes I wouldn't be able to eat for days. Obviously, I needed nourishment. At first, we stopped at Ted's Fish Fry so I could get a coffee milkshake. But Ted's was half an hour from home. We always had ice cream at home, so Mom started making milkshakes for me. I wasn't allowed to have a milkshake for breakfast (for breakfast I had Carnation Instant Breakfast drinks- which Dad remembered having when he broke his jaw). They didn't serve ice cream at school, so I had to make do with jello and pudding and anything soft. But for dinner, I could have a milkshake. Or two. Whatever it took. Mom made milkshakes for everyone for their drink, and I had the biggest glass because my milkshake was also dinner. And my dessert. It is a wonder I didn't have a weight problem in high school. My jaw was realigned so severely that it left me with TMJ. I still have days that my jaw gives me problems. I can hear my jaw clicking when I eat, and I know that before long it is going to snap, like a slingshot and I won't be able to manage opening my mouth to eat (talking also becomes difficult). That's when we start stocking up on milk and ice cream, and I tell Erich he's on his own for dinner. Well, I'm sorry for writing about unpleasant things (dentists) on what should be a pleasant day. One of my favorite things about being an adult is that if I'm out running around on a Saturday, I get to say yes to having a milkshake for lunch instead of grabbing a sandwich or something. I don't do it often, but I really enjoy it when I do!

A Year of Blogging: September 11, 2011

We all know what September 11 is. If you want to know my 9/11 experience, you can read last year's blog. I'm not going to write about it again. This will also be one of my shortest posts ever. For this year, I'm just fed up. I'm fed up with the media onslaught 'Remember 9/11'. This does not make me any less of an American, or any less patriotic. I just don't see the point of rehashing it over and over and over. Uncovering new 'angles'. I've watched very little tv in the last few weeks because I just cannot stand the non-stop coverage. We don't need this assault by the media to remind us. We will never forget. In the same vein, I don't read newspapers or watch the news much at the end of the year. They stop covering actual news and do nothing but 'year in review' shows or articles. I'm not a fan. The world does not stop turning so you can rehash past events. A Cincinnati area family was among those who lost a loved one on 9/11. They have been interviewed by I think every tv station in the area this week. The father, who lost his wife, had a good point. He said something to the effect that our loss is no more significant than the loss any other family feels when they lose a loved one. The only difference is we have video documentation. I refuse to live my life in fear. I have enough issues to worry about, I do not need to fear where they might strike next. Be vigilant, yes. But if you live in fear then they have already won.

A Year of Blogging: September 10, 2011

September 10 was 'Swap Ideas Day'. It seems like I am always swapping ideas with someone. Whether it's sharing recipes with friends, or asking a coworker how they would handle a situation. Even having a conversation with someone is an exchange of ideas. And sometimes, if there's no one available to bounce an idea off of, I discuss it with myself! September 10 was also 'Sewing Machine Day'. Yeah, another day I really can't talk much about. When I went to the Bennington Museum with Sydney a couple of weeks ago, there was a small antique sewing machine. She had no clue what it was, and as I tried to explain it to her, I realized her female role models are failing her in this area. I explained that people used it to make dresses. Her response was 'why didn't they just go to the store?' So I tried to tell her that long before there were stores everywhere, you had to make your clothes. Women bought fabric and made clothes for the family. I had no way to make it relevant to her. There are no women left on our side of the family who have sewing machines, or who sew for that matter. I at least remember my grandmother's sewing machine. My mother has never owned one. Sewing is a lost art in our family. As proof of this, Sydney asked me to buy her a little craft kit at the museum. You can make your own fabric doll. It said it was EASY! So I bought it, and when we opened it, you have to cut out the pattern and then make the dolls. That was too much for me. Thankfully, I had left my reading glasses at my mom's house, so I was able to back out of it. I felt a little bad, because I don't know that those dolls will ever get made. But when I babysat her a couple days later, I told her we could make those dolls, and she said 'no, it's ok'. I suppose she needs to know how to sew, I just don't know who's going to teach her!

A Year of Blogging: September 9, 2011

September 9 was Teddy Bear Day. Long before little girls start playing with dolls, and little boys start playing with action figures; we have teddy bears. For many children, teddy bears are their first stuffed animal. They are soft and comforting. Most children move beyond playing with teddy bears to other interests. But for some, the lucky ones, they never outgrow their teddy bears. I am one of those people. I have always loved Teddy Bears. As a pre-teen, I was always buying them. I loved to get them for presents. I thought I hit the jackpot when the Baptist Church in town got a new minister. The parsonage is next to our house, and not only did we get fantastic neighbors, but the minister's wife made teddy bears! I bought one of her bears at a local craft fair, and I still have it more than 20 years later. For my sweet 16, my Mom and Dad gave me a little bear wearing a fancy teal dress. She had pearl earrings and a pearl necklace. Some people at the party thought it was a way of Mom and Dad wishing I was still a little girl. No, my parents knew me. I still have that bear too, she's proudly displayed in my bear room. That's right. My bear room. My love of teddy bears turned into a collection of over 400. I haven't bought a bear in at least five years, but I'm still drawn to them. I rotate the bears seasonally (because the bear room now also doubles as a guest room). As I take out the bears for the next season, I remember why I loved certain bears. I know it will sound crazy to say they are my friends, but they are. There's still something comforting about teddy bears. It is a peaceful room for me. I can sit in there and just be. I don't have to do anything. My love of teddy bears introduced me to wonderful friends- mostly women, but a few men- from all over the world. It was the bears that drew us together, but our other interests and shared experiences bonded us. I am closer to most of my bear friends than I am to friends from high school or college. They are some of the most caring people I've ever met. It takes a special person to play with teddy bears past childhood. I'm so proud to call those special people my friends.

A Year of Blogging: September 8, 2011

September 8 is 'Pardon Day'. You can either use this day to show the world that your Mom really did teach you manners (by saying 'Pardon me' or 'Excuse Me'), or as a day to seek forgiveness from others. Holiday Insights (www.holidayinsights.com) did not explain why today is Pardon Day. It seemed a little odd, since there is also a Forgiveness day in June. Hoping to find something else to write, I went to history.com to see what happened on this date. And what do you know? On September 8, 1974 President Gerald Ford pardoned Richard Nixon. Now it all makes sense! On this date in 1644, the city of New Amsterdam became New York. Peter Stuyvesant, the Dutch governor of the colony of New Netherland, surrendered the capital of New Amsterdam to the English. It was renamed New York in honor of the Duke of York. Stuyvesant was an unpopular ruler. His subjects refused to rally around him. Yet today, the Stuyvesant name can be found in many places around Albany. Stuyvesant Plaza used to be one of the more upscale shopping centers (I'm not sure if it still is, since I haven't lived in the area for years). The dutch influence can still be seen throughout upstate New York. From the architecture to the names of places: our Dutch heritage is obvious. In fact, each year in the spring, Albany (the oldest Dutch settlement in America) hosts a tulip festival. The festival is Mother's Day weekend. It starts with young women dressed in period dutch colonial costumes scrubbing the street. Washington Park is transformed by thousands of tulips- each fall they plant the tulips. After the festival is over, the bulbs are dug up and given away free to the public. The displays change from year to year. I never went, but my sister and parents started going a few years ago. Their pictures are beautiful. I hope to get home for it sometime, even though I know I'll have to take a lot of kleenex with me for the allergies! Pardon me for getting off on a tangent about New York. You know I always love the opportunity to share stories about NY with others!