Christmas 2010

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It's been a quiet week at Gracerock, here on the edge of reality. Another Christmas has come and gone. As the years roll quickly past, so does this special season of joy and tradition and good will. When I was a kid, it seemed like Christmas took FOREVER to arrive. And now, all that is required is a quick blink, and it's gone.

I think that we've zeroed in on the best recipe for a peaceful Christmas. We have the Georgia Tech football team to thank for their assistance in formulating this recipe. You see, one of the penalties for having a mediocre, yet not horrible football season is that you're still "bowl eligible", but for one of the lesser bowls. So the Yellow Jackets are playing Air Force at the Independence Bowl in Shreveport, LA on December 27th. This required that the marching band depart Atlanta in the wee hours of December 26th. And thus, Chris had to fly south mid evening on the 25th.

As luck would have it, Atlanta had it's first white Christmas since Chester Arthur was in the oval office. Consider the hype on our local news when snow is imminent - and snow is a regular feature of our winters. Now imagine the pure exhilaration felt by millions of folks across the south at the prospect of a once in a lifetime event. While we're truly happy for them, our selfishness had us focused mostly on flight cancellations and alternative arrangements.

So you're asking, what is that recipe for the perfect Christmas? Quite simply, moderation and preparation. We knew that time with our little family would be limited, hence we were intent on getting the best quality from our time together. For example, instead of wrapping at 10pm on Christmas eve, Sharon took the wild initiative to wrap gifts several DAYS in advance. DAYS. Why didn't we think of this sooner? Instead of hosting Christmas dinner at Gracerock (which would be incompatible with driving to BWI), we oped for Christmas brunch. Non-Gracerock Forrence family - don't be shocked if we make the same offer next year.

Christmas Eve was perfect. A quiet candle-lit dinner and a nice glass of wine imported from Atlanta - purchased from Kroger with Chris' bonus card. After singing at the vigil mass, we stopped by Cathie's for another glass of wine and dessert - then home by ten. Shortly thereafter, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

Christmas day. A blur. The traditional stockings, gifts under the tree, ear to ear grins, and new this year - no one received underwear. All good! Not only did Chris' flight south actually arrive almost 30 minutes early, he had band friend Sarah on the flight for a bit of camaraderie.

Without a doubt, the highlight of the day was the world debut of Chris and Alex playing together musically. The guys have always gotten along with good humor and civil sibling rivalry. And they've both been musically talented in their own way - Chris on flute and piano, Alex on guitar and drums. Together they'd make a fine quartet. For whatever reason, making music together has never been high on either of their priority list. So they never have played together. Ever. However, at Sharon's request, Chris sat down at the piano and Alex brought down his guitar. Neither had the benefit of neither sheet music nor advance practice. Granted, I may be biased, but I thought that the result was quite good. And not a better song could have been chosen. And Sharon had camera at ready to catch the big event:






Now Christmas is past. As is Boxing Day. We think about Christmas days past - John Hasty (who has been with us more Christmas days than not) helping as we put together toys in the wee hours. And JoAnn and Nadine singing around the piano. And the years that Sharon and I drove from Emmitsburg to Severna Park and back on Christmas day. It's not that we rank our Christmas memories, but rather, we add them to the treasure trove that is life. Even the year that Sharon and I were both so sick that we could hardly move - even that year is remembered fondly - even though I haven't enjoyed cherry cheesecake since.

So back to normal life for a couple of days. Chris will return on Wednesday for another week or so. Alex is itching for the dorms to reopen and his college friends to return. And me... I'm just taking in each moment and savoring it. As it should be.

Merry Christmas to all. And to all, a good night.


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Flash Mob in Hagerstown

It had been thirty years since I last sang Handel's Hallelujah Chorus as a part of an organized group - Christmas of 1980. Until yesterday.

You may have seen the YouTube video of a Flash Mob singing the Hallelujah Chorus - a very cool video of some very talented vocalists. If you haven't seen the video, search for it - it's worth the effort. So, at the invitation of St. Marks Church in Lappans, a group of some 150 vocalists gathered at the food court at the Valley Mall in Hagerstown to somewhat replicate the effort. Representing St. Joe's were Mike, Bev, Sr. Mary Fran and myself. Bev had made us a photocopy of the music and a CD with our individual part.

As I mentioned earlier - it had been thirty years, so I practiced. In the circumstances of a totally unrehearsed performance, there are certain expectations. First, I knew that it wouldn't be anywhere near as good as the YouTube video we had all seen. Second, who knows if the person you're standing beside will know the music or be able to count as required (and this prediction came true as heard in at least one recording of the event). With no "director" to watch, everyone will certainly be doing their own thing when we hit the fermata at the end.

At 11:30 the food court began to fill with folks young and old. The instruction was to wear red or green under your coat and, when the music began, to take off your coat, stand up and sing (easier said than done when the musical intro is only four or so measures long). They were going for the element of surprise. Well, a room full of secret agents we weren't. You've never seen so many lost-looking souls, wandering around in their red sweaters carrying their full length copy of the Messiah. Fortunately, Mike had been invited by Michelle, the music director at Williamsport High, to share her table closer to the center of the action. And, as it turned out, Michelle not only knew her part very well, but wasn't shy about it. Practicing against the soprano part paid off.

And then it happened. At noon the music started and everyone sang. While they won't be inviting us to Carnegie Hall anytime soon, it was a truly special experience. And I truly hope they do it again next year.

Here is the best YouTube that I've found for the event. If you look - there's a guy holding a speaker on his head. Mike B is just to the right and I'm just to the left.

The Best way to Spread Christmas Cheer...

Is singing loud for all to hear! Yes, Buddy the Elf said it best.

In December 2004 I put together the booklet below - which is simply a compilation of popular Christmas and winter song lyrics. Every year I find it and spread some cheer - even if it's only in my office with the doors all shut.

Christmas Lyrics Booklet

So open it. Print it (all 15 pages). And leave it on the coffee table where it is easy to pick up and sing a song out loud... for all to hear.

December...

Incredible as it seems, December is upon us. Today is already the second Sunday in Advent. And while this is generally a very busy time, I am absolutely determined to not allow it to be a stressful time!

Tomorrow brings two big events. First is the Frederick University (FU) Student Art Show where my darling has both a photo - The Eternal Scribe (tombstone featuring an angel photographed at the historic Oakland Cemetery in Atlanta), and her Water Bottles are for Drips poster. Maybe I'll post both of these when the copyright expires - unless I can get the author's permission. Sharon and I have a date to stroll thru the gallery around noon.

Tomorrow evening is the annual Emmitsburg Christmas celebration. Every year this celebration reminds me of a song that we sang in high school choir called "Christmas in a Small Town". The celebration begins with tree lighting ceremony at the community center with a short speech by the mayor. Fortunately, there is a direct correlation between the temp/wind chill and the duration of speech. Then the party moves to the Carriage House Inn, where hot dogs and hot chocolate are the main faire (two of the four major food groups). Hay rides, live nativity including the sheep, bonfire in a barrel, more hot chocolate. Various choirs from local churches, the Mount, Daughters of Charity and a smattering of other musicians perform. You get the idea. Christmas in a Small Town.

And for the umpteenth time, the St. Joseph's Sunrise Singers will be among the groups performing. We've dusted off a couple of the old standards (it's great having standards to dust off) for the event. Sorry Chris, no "Pinecones & Holly Berrys/ Beginning to look a lot like Christmas" - we opted instead for "We Need a little Christmas/Deck the Halls". And while this really requires a separate blog, I will say that this is our 20th Christmas singing together - where were you and what were you doing 20 years ago?

However, even with all of these, the realities of December remain. Last year we cut down five sizable trees along the drive so they didn't fall on the house. In September we had more wood in the shed then at any time in the past. And now we've burned thru a third of it - and it is not yet officially winter! So I've walked the woods scoping out the ready-to-burn stuff. For some reason, Chris & Alex don't want to quit school in order to come home and cut wood. Just shows how much smarter they are than their father!

And finally, a sign of the times. Every year St. Joseph's Church sponsors several families at Christmas. A tree is erected at the altar and is adorned with tags that specify a Christmas request for each sponsored family member. There are no Yu-gi-oh cards or legos or anything "fun". There are requests for laundry detergent, underwear and socks. These are folks that live here in Emmitsburg - and I can assure you that we have no monopoly on folks that need real assistance this year. So, when you're out buying that 56 inch television to replace the scrawny 48 inch television that you already own, or you're at a fine restaurant eating a meal that will be gone within the next day, think about your neighbors and how you could make a real difference. No, you can't provide relief to everyone who needs it - but for the neediest, a gallon of laundry detergent is significant. Please... do what you can.

Hon's second career

After a trip to Louis' lab, Hon has decided to take up robotic surgery
as a hobby - something about being able to write off the cost of the
DaVinci machine on his income taxes.

Just a nice photo

One of the fringe benefits of Sharon's photography class is no shortage of photos. I particularly like this one of us...

Sharon's VERY cool rally photos

The photos speak for themselves. What a blast we had...

Rally Bench stories

Marie, Sharon & Noel on the bench

Now that we're empty-nesters, we need to fill our time somehow. So, on Saturday we arose at the crack of 7am and headed to DC to attend the Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear.

After a long and winding trip we arrived in a sea of humanity that flooded the national mall. As we headed down Madison, we happened upon an unoccupied bench. Initially, it looked like just a good place to take a quick rest. Little did we know that some four hours later it would become a life raft against the outgoing tide. And while we camped there, several folks came and went. Much like in the movie Forrest Gump, folks came and sat on the bench for a while. We chatted and then they moved on. Some of our new friends included:

• Woman from Houston who had just moved to DC this week along with her husband. She has a new job at the Department of Labor that begins on Monday. She stopped and watched along with us, and after an hour or so, decided she'd had enough and headed home.
• Several folks stopped by to stand on our bench to provide a bit better view in hopes of finding their missing spouse/children/friend. Of the several, only one was successful.
• Button lady stopped for a brief rest. She was headed down to 7th to set up shop. We ran into her after the event
• Marie was one of the folks with missing family - borrowed the bench for a vantage point. And ended up staying for the duration. She and her sister Ann and a variety of their children came down from New Jersey and stayed in a hotel in Columbia, drove to Silver Spring and took the metro in. So, the crowd had spit Marie out to us. Ann wandered by a number of minutes later - the kids didn't show up until after the rally. Marie had gone to grade school with Bruce Springsteen (she was in 1st grade, he in 8th).
  
• The BEST was Noel, who also wanted a slight height advantage. She was trying to catch up with her match.com first date. Yes, they were meeting for the first time at a rally of some two hundred thousand people. So, we tried to help get Noel and her date Mark together by offering hints as to how they could actually find one another. As it turned out, our bench was next to the only car parked on Madison between 4th & 7th, but that apparently wasn't enough of a clue. We were a bit worried when Mark described his clothing as "I'm wearing jeans". However, he was also theoretically carrying a rose (good touch Mark). Well, I haven't ever checked out so many guys looking for that damn rose. And it just wasn't happening. Noel & Mark decided that the corner of 7th and Madison would be a better place to meet. At 3:00. When the Rally was over. After all of the waiting, Sharon and I (and Marie & Ann) REALLY wanted to see how it came out - if Mark and Noel ever got together. So I volunteered to go scope out and see what came out of the woodwork. Huge mistake. As mentioned, the Rally ended at three and the sea of reasonableness began moving off of the mall via the corner of 7th and Madison. And there I was, staring up at that ocean wave that can do nothing but hit me square in the chest. I clung to life behind the information pole then began my steady swim upstream - back to the safety of the bench. Some fifteen minutes later the oasis came into view and I climbed aboard. As to Noel and Mark, we'll never know... we both hope it works out for the best.

Even though we couldn't see or hear much, the microculture of our bench made the whole event well worth it. Our bench of reasonableness.

Some days I have a cool job

Not only do I get paid to take in the view, but I can say I've been
down a double-diamond ski trail. No one needs to know that there was
no snow at the time.

Chirpy Chirpy Cheep Cheep

For some reason I spent several days trying to remember a song - just kept niggling at my brain. All I could remember was a mother and gibberish response. I asked a couple of "worldly" folks in choir and they couldn't help. When it FINALLY hit me, neither they nor Sharon had ever heard of it. So, now I'm asking you... has anyone else heard it, or is it just me? The song is Chirpy Chirpy Cheep Cheep by that classic UK band "Middle of the Road". It spent four weeks at the top of the UK chart in 1971, but didn't chart at all in US. Here's a You-Tube version:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wPThE4tBARQ

Youtube is an amazing thing. I can see Chris playing in the GT band or hear the Danny Kaye performance of Tubby the Tuba. And most everything in between - all from my iPhone whenever I want.

As kids, we had some unusual music in the house. We grew up singing protest songs that I didn't understand - recordings by Pete Seeger's and Peter, Paul & Mary. We had several kids records like the aforementioned Danny Kaye in Hans Christian Anderson, storybook records ("Perry the Little Girl Squirrel" - to this day, I'm still frightened of "The Martin"). But then we had a couple of oddball 45s. Now later in life, I wonder how Nancy Sinatra singing "These Boots are Made for Walking" slipped into the collection. And one that I haven't quite got my arms around called "The Nightingale who sang Off Key"

It was almost twelve o'clock, time for bed
I fluffed up my pillow for my sleepy head
I went to the window and opened it wide,
and guess what I saw outside?
There were ten little whippoorwills, sitting in the moonlight
singing a lullaby
led by a nightingale who couldn't get the tune right,
now matter how he tried
(insert non-remembered lyrics involving crickets)
I had never heard of a nightingale who sang off key

Even youtube doesn't remember this one.

So - at least for today - I'm committed to having a Chirpy Chirpy Cheep Cheep day! You should too!

Perfect day for trip to Paw Paw

Just outside of Berkeley Springs there is a majestic view of the
confluence of Potomac and Cacapon rivers. This is where you stop to
check voicemail as it is the last cellphone signal outpost.

So, you stop and take in the sights. Always worth the time.

I wonder if they're homesick...

Take pity on my poor boys - seeing a photo like this probably makes
them terribly homesick. Chris is probably checking airline flights
already. 'Tia the season.

The Park at Marietta Square

Beautiful day. Beautiful neighborhood. I understand why folks flock here.

Dinner in Buckhead

>

> We're having a grand trip to sunny Atlanta. Good omen when our flight actually arrived some 20 minutes early. Now in our fourth year of visiting Atlanta, we've got the public transportation down cold. Of course, from the airport, the trains only go one direction.
>
> We met Chris for lunch, then borrowed his car for the duration of our visit. Great having wheels at the ready.
>
> Sharon had more trouble with lodging on this trip than any other. Not only is it GT homecoming, but Gay Pride Rally just down the street a bit. So we've landed in Buckhead, which is the ritzy northeast suburb comprised mostly of very large hotels and the Lenox Square mall.
>
> Jackie & Joe arrived yesterday afternoon and we hope to catch up with them today and play tourist.
>
> Carpe diem!
>

A prisoner in our own home

It's the stinkbugs. They are everywhere - all over the media, on peoples minds and covering the side of my garage.
They sneak in thru the air conditioning, so we covered it with plastic and taped it up. They SOMEHOW get between the closed screen and closed window, so we keep the windows closed at night and the ceiling fan running. Even though it is 60 degrees out, we're steaming inside. Sharon figured out that it we leave one of the sliding glass doors in living room closed they don't congregate on the screen as much - so we can actually come and go without filling the kitchen with the little beasts. When I leave the office they dive bomb me like a barn swallow attacking a cat. Running doesn't work. Hiding doesn't work.

The solution? Better living thru chemistry! The nuclear option is my only option. As bad as it sounds, I want to be a Stinkbug Superfund site. I want them to fall out of the sky. Friends and colleagues describe home remedies such as 30% Dawn (no other brand!) dish soap mixed with ground pomegranate and sprayed under a harvest moon (which I can still see, but only for a few more minutes) will do the trick. They read it on the internet so it must be true. Me? I'm going the Monsanto method. So what if I grow another ear. After years of running the chainsaw, it may come in handy. Wish me luck!

Seat time

Friday afternoon. Somehow more satisfying than a beer. Cutting a path along the west side of pasture - eight feet at a time. Ahhhhh

Life is a photo op

Today it is the raindrops on the honeysuckle, yesterday it was the
cool spider web. A photo per day is the assignment - which really
means minimum of 20.

It's all good!

Obie shows the way

It has been so long that I've forgotten how. "How to what?" you ask. How to spend a rainy Sunday afternoon. It feels like it has been months and months since we've had a dreary gray day. So long that I've forgotten the correct procedure. Fortunately, I have Obie. Good dog.

They're gone

We knew it would happen one day - and it has. Except for our emergency backup son Obie-the-red-dog, the nest is empty. And it isn't so bad. Sharon's view is that dropping Alex off in Baltimore (maybe ten blocks from his Aunt Jennifer's house) was way easier than dropping Chris off in midtown Atlanta a couple of years ago.

There are good things and bad, and I do miss them. Especially on Friday mornings when the trash needs to go to the end of the driveway. Or when the dishwasher needs to be emptied. But the house remains tidy for days on end. And a smallish container of chocolate chip cookies has lasted a good long time. There are still some adjustments to be made, such as deciding on full or half gallons of milk - but we'll work through them as they come.

Sharon has decided to go back to school for a certificate in computer graphics - taking three "real" classes plus a "continuing education" class. So, she is not only VERY excited, but very busy - which is a good thing.

And me... any time that I'm not "Voxcom-ing" can be spent yanking dead trees out of the woods or puttering in the garage. I've set some goals along these lines that include heavy use of Craigslist for lightening the load.

Several weeks ago, our friends Jeff & Tammy offered this sage advice on the subject. "The best part... clothing optional. Enjoy it". So, when you visit Gracerock, be sure to toot the horn at the end of the driveway. Just better for everyone involved.

The Silver Lining

Our house is constructed into the side of a hill in such a way that, without steps, you can walk out of the basement in the front and out of the kitchen in the back. During a rainstorm earlier in the year, we noticed a lot of water coming into the basement in a hard-to-access area. So, I did what any normal person would do - mounted the backhoe to the tractor and dug a trench beside the house that extended lower than the foundation. The water problem immediately went away.

So now, two months later, I've fixed the various holes in the concrete block, applied a coat of black tar-like goo as a sealant,put drainage pipe and gravel into the bottom of the trench and started closing up the trench. But I had to dig a bit more trench in order to extend the pipe out to a good "stopping point". Trusty backhoe and I set out to dig this 20' section. But we hit something hard. Very hard. A bit more work and found that we hit something square. And flat on top. But here's the "Silver Lining" part. Not only did we finally discover the long lost septic tank (that isn't even close to where the previous owner's diagram shows), but we found BOTH the cleanout and inspection hatches with the backhoe WITHOUT buggering up either one. If we hadn't had the water leak, I'd likely have never found the tank.

It's funny how, as one ages, one gets excited about strange things.

Nice Rack!

Well, what did you THINK I was talking about? This is probably one of the nicest guys I've photographed. Still looking for the bear....

You just never know

I know that most of my posts have been a bit melancholy recently. There's lots of great stuff in my life, but it just doesn't linger like this story. So indulge me.

They got up on Sunday morning, just like any Sunday. She probably put a load of laundry in the wash, they had breakfast and read the paper. Around 9:50 they got in the car and headed into town for 10:15 mass.

Like all good Catholics, they sat in the same (or nearly the same) pew - right hand side two-thirds of the way back. The one next to the air conditioning vent. They wanted to arrive early enough so that any "interlopers" wouldn't beat them to "their pew".

Mass was typical for a "Sunday in Ordinary Time" - Joey played the hymns on the organ and led the singing. And Father O'Malley's homily message was "Be vigilant". How poignant that message became just a minutes hours later.

Since our choir is on summer recess, we had gone to 8:00 mass, and didn't know anything was amiss until Betsey sent an email in the early afternoon, letting us know that there had been a terrible accident in front of church and that at least one person had died. Soon thereafter the Frederick News Post had the story that two people had died and one was severely injured. No names were listed. Early version of the story indicated that an SUV was involved.

Like so many of my fellow humans are apt to do, I immediately jumped to the conclusion that some ying-yang in a street-legal tank had roared up past church in the 25 MPH zone and plowed down a little old lady crossing the street. In my mind, I wanted a villain.

One of the charms of small-town life is that everyone knows everyone. Of course, this extends to the church community. And, pertinent to this story, you know where folks sit in church and often know where they park. So, the mind starts roll call - who parks over at the American Legion or walks to church from main street, or walks to the Palms restaurant after church. Which one of our friends is it?

All afternoon we're checking the fnp website for updates. And I wonder - terrible as it seems - is it better if it's someone that we don't know? And what will become of the driver?

Finally, at 7:30 or so, fnp updates with names. And the two dead are, in fact, folks that we know - John and Pat Cillo. They live... lived.... less than a half mile up the road. Just the other week, John had seen me walking up the hill and correctly assumed that I was headed for Tim's Garage. He stopped and gave me a lift. He was a brash New Yorker - and proud of it. But he was also a nice guy, well liked in the community.

And of the villain SUV driver? Well, it turns out that she was an "AARP" aged woman who apparently hit the gas instead of the brake while parallel parking. She was coming to church early because she's a greeter for the noon mass - not your typical Cruella DeVille type. However, in less time than it takes to read this sentence, two lives are extinguished and several others will be irrevocably changed.

So, when you get up on a Sunday morning and throw laundry in the wash, remember that you just never know. Be vigilant.

Ode to Captain Jack

He showed up sometime in the middle of winter - only looking for a little food and maybe some shelter from the storms of February. Jack - short for Michael Jackson (because he was black and white) took up residence in the wood shed. Sure, it offered a roof and some warmth, but the smoke from the stove surely brought tears to his eyes at least twice a day. For him, maybe that was a fair price for sanctuary. Early on we'd catch him peering at us thru the sliding glass door - wondering what it would be like to be on the inside. Being the kind soul that she is, Sharon began providing a bit of food here and there - and a couple of warm towels in which to curl.

Soon we noticed that the indoor cat food bowls were emptier than usual in the mornings - and the nearby dribs cleaned up as well. Jack had figured out the magic of the cat door. To hear Lilly and Harry tell it, Jack was setting the house on fire. Other than their midnight screeches, our only clue was a very tidy cat food area.

Then came spring and Jack was still around. The other two strays (and the possum) that had hung around during the worst of winter had moved on to greener pastures. But not Jack - he had a good thing and knew it. One day a few short weeks ago Jack decided to take a chance - and actually allowed Sharon to pet him. The dam broke. Sharon would go out to her flower garden bench and sing out, and Jack would materialize at her side - rubbing and rolling in the sun and looking for love. We'd go out to the yard to throw a tennis ball for Obie - again Sharon would sing out - and Jack would appear.

Maybe it was the beginning of the end - who knows. One evening last week we were in the living room and heard the tentative opening of the cat door. Our "regular" cats have nothing "tentative" about them when passing thru the kitty portal - so we could tell by the sound that it was a stranger. Sure, we'd heard it before. Usually turning a blind ear to it - allowing Jack a chance to grab a quick snack. But this time was different. Jack strode gingerly into the living room, sat down beside the fireplace and just looked around. He had finally made it into that warm space on the other side of the glass - the place that he had so longed to visit just a few short months ago.

Being the kind and responsible "stray-protector", Sharon decided that it would be best for all involved if Jack had a quick trip to the vet. After all, it would make him more attractive adoption candidate. Jack had other ideas. The original Monday appointment ended up a bust when Jack - who was 100% inside the carrier with the door 99% closed - somehow managed to escape in a flurry of claws and yowls. Neither bits of baked ham nor soothing praise could coax him out of his woodshed sanctuary.

Then came Tuesday. For better or worse, we devised a more solid plan and the next thing he knew, Jack was heading south on US Rt. 15.

Here's where I'd like to describe the happy ending. You know - how the vet proclaimed a clean bill of health and on the way home there was a little girl who had a "lost cat" sign in her drive sporting Jack's photo. But it wasn't to be. Instead, a quick test determined that Jack was suffering from feline AIDS, a contagious and debilitating disease. And remaining a stray in the woodshed was no longer an option.

And now the story of Jack ends - one of the many of God's creatures that have entered our lives - that have brought joy and then sorrow to our hearts. Although his time with us was short, his mark on our lives will be long lived. Captain Jack, rest in peace.

Thirty three years ago today

July 7, 1977 was a Thursday. We were in the middle of a very long week and hot week. That was the week that we moved from downtown Johnsville, USA to a farm outside of Emmitsburg. At the time I remember thinking that Emmitsburg was surely rednecksville if ever there was - and my mother must be crazy for making us do this. The day stands out in my memory because it was the first entry - 7/7/77 - on my passbook savings account - opened that day at Farmers & Mechanics on the square. You remember passbook savings accounts. With each deposit or withdrawal, you took your passbook with it's embossed burgundy cover and protective plastic sleeve into the teller - who would carefully note, initial and stamp the entry. It was important to keep the passbook in a very safe place so that you wouldn't lose your entire fortune.

That week, Hon and I must have taken fifty trips with the pickup truck - over hill and dale - between the two houses. There was a former colleague of Hon lived along the route. With each trip, we'd beep and wave to Andy and were sure the poor guy had no idea who it was making all of that racket. Then, as now, we were easily amused.

So now, some thirty plus years later, Betsey may still be crazy. But if so, I must have inheritied some of the crazies as well as I'm still in Emmitsburg. Of my own volition. Go figure.

A rite of passage

It is a rite of passage. Graduate from high school and then spend a week "downy ocean" for senior week. Alex, Justin and Chris Gebhart. He packed his bathing suit and boogie board, his guitar and ukulele. They took some food and his GPS. Packed up in Chris' parents Dodge Caravan and off they went.

I survived. Sharon survived. Chris survived. Alex will survive. And thrive. It is just a taste of things to come in a few short weeks. It is the natural order of things. It is a rite of passage.

The BIRDS

Is it a remake of that Alfred Hitchcock classic, or are they just really happy that Sharon went to the Thurmont Co-op instead of the grocery store yesterday? You decide...

Snow Hype!

The grocery store was packed at noon today. Joe said Giant was totally out of ALL milk last night. Channel 4 began their all-snow coverage at 4:30 this morning. Schools announced closures before the first flake hit the ground. Yes, it's snow hype. And I love it. And I must be a participant because:

• I was at the grocery store at noon today.
  
• The tractor is full of fuel with an extra 10 gallons on hand.
  
• The loader is greased.
  
• The VoxVan is in the garage
• And I'm hardly getting anything done as I watch it come down.

All I've got to say is "bring it on!"

After all, it is Academic

What do you do on a Friday night in the middle of winter? For the past seven years, I've spent virtually every Friday night in January & February in the meeting room at the Board of Education listening to students answer questions that I don't even understand. They usually begin with words like "If F of X is on a tangent in standard position toward infinity..."

So, Saturday was the taping of the local TV version - and Catoctin pulled out a big win, likely helped along by the Friday night practices.





Although it was wonderful, I'm not sure what was more exciting... the big win on Saturday morning or the drive home Saturday afternoon
.

Raging trickle

While chatting with Chris yesterday afternoon, he mentioned the deluge he was getting in Atlanta and how he would be sending it our way. He wasn't kidding. This morning Alex's upstream and Christopher's downstream (the same sedate trickle of water) had become raging torrents. Water is oozing from every nook and cranny of this hillside in incredible quantities. I think the drought is over...

Fox went out on a chilly night

Fox went out on a chilly night
Prayed to the moon to give him light
Had many a mile to go that night
Before he reached the town-o, town-o, town-0

A Christmas toy was a trail camera that is triggered by motion. Well, I've gotten a couple dozen photos of Bambi and kin, several of a blue jay eating the cracked corn that I put out. And a couple of Mr. Fox - possibly interested in the mice that are interested in the cracked corn that I put out... When it stops raining, I'm going to move the camera to the very large and newly hewn hole in the tree - to see if that's where Mr. Owl lives.