Today's campaign event at La Crosse, WI

We attended the McCain rally this morning in La Crosse, WI in VIP seating. The previous post on this blog explains how this happened. Photos appeared in the Saturday 10/11 La Crosse Tribune; I've posted two here. In the first look to the far right and midway up you can see me and to my left Jerry. In the other photo right of the blog, look drectly to the right of the little black boy and you see Jerry's head and I am blurred to the right. Today's (Saturday) newspaper had another full double page photo where we also show up but when I downloaded it the picture was fuzzy.

Even with those tickets, we waited in a line to get in and then were escorted to seats. Not bad took about 15 minutes. What was bad though is we arrived, parked and the lines were down the street and around the block. Oh no! But after we reached the end of the line around the block, a young college guy saw our tickets and said that there was a separate entrance for VIP's. This made Jerry feel very smug as he said we should have looked for a special entrance, but I marched us down the street thinking that I would be beyond furious to not get in! So we had a morning walk in by returning up the street and then entering for VIP's.

Other's who only had tickets may not have gotten in. I understand they gave out more tickets than capacity in the room. This was inside at the La Crosse Center. I estimate about 6,000 in a space for 5,000. Obama rally was outside and packed 15,000 in the streets. Another proof that Republicans are more competent at organization.

After we were seated, I and another lady needed the bathroom! What's new! We had to be escorted from our seats to the bathroom and then brought back.

Security was tighter than anything I've experienced flying or even in DC and MD federal bldgs. back in my "working" days. I wasn't thinking this AM so my underwire bra set off the buzzer and I had to be hand wanded!

There was very high energy in the crowd. And lots of young people--college students from the 3 universities in La Crosse. Joe Gow, the very popular young president of UW La Crosse was there. Surprised me, I thought all academics were Dems. Two young college girls sitting in front of us who were so tickled to be in VIP seats explained to us that "Joe" as the students call him, was not given VIP seats to Obama last week so he did not attend that rally. But the McCain camp did accommodate him. Well whatever it takes to get the votes is fine with me. There was a beaming boy scout troop up front right in front of the stage. Those were some proud boys. McCain walked to them and shook their hands as he entered.

John (Yosemite Sam) is not a very big man. About Jerry's size only. And Cindy is extremely thin! She spoke longer today than I've heard introducing him. McCain was in his element. This was not the venue where we could ask questions, we only got to see and hear him. Wish Sarah had been here as she was with him yesterday in Waukesha, WI.

Sharing the podium with John & Cindy, Dan Kapanke, WI state Senator, and Tommy Thompson (former HHS Secty. and former WI governor and now in La Crosse with Logistics Healthcare. Reminded me that I have a personal kudo's letter from Tommy from my days in CA working on healthcare when I was flying back to DC to represent CA at hearings, etc. Guess I should get that thing out and frame it--Tommy's popular here.

Tonight we are back at the La Crosse center to watch an NBA exhibition--Milwaukee Bucks and Dallas Mavericks. I guess this is our day at the La Crosse Center!

The following thought in from a friend. I thought it worth including here.

.........Now isn't this something to think about!

If Barack Obama would apply for a job with the FBI or with the Secret Service, he would be disqualified because of his past association with William Ayers, a known terrorist.

If he is elected President he would not qualify to be his own Body Guard.

Call center experience

Today I went to the La Crosse Republican headquarters to get tickets to see John McCain on Friday AM. And this morning, my old CA mind resurfaced. I knew that the headquarters opened at 9:00 and tickets were first come first serve, I thought I should get there and get in line, so I arrived about 8:15, magazines to keep me occupied during the wait. After driving around the block several times I found a parking space right down the block.

When I first drove by there were only about 6 people in line outside. Oh, good, for sure I'll get tickets. Then I mentally smacked myself awake, "dummy, you are not in CA and you did not have to get here this early!" Especially WI. Are there any republicans there? Well, yes, my cousin for one and I do know some others.

They cordially opened early, at 8:30. I waltzed in, filled out a form with our names, addresses and email and went to get my tickets. No problem. And it still was only about 8:35AM. A young man at the ticket desk asked me if I could do some phone calls for them. "Why would I?" Well if I called 100 people using their phone list I could get preferred seats at the McCain event.

This will be at 10:00AM Friday at the La Crosse Center in an area that seats only about 5,000. So I thought that might be a good thing to do. First I told them that I personally hate phone calls from campaigners, regardless of who they are, but I guess it's a technique we have to use. So I picked up a couple yard signs for friends who don't have them, got some coffee and sat around till 9:00AM when we could start to call.

Let me regress here with yesterday's horror story, which demonstrates that unleashed volunteers create confusion at a minimum and can be detrimental to an effort. I received an email from a well meaning local Republican, volunteer, Rosie. In it she said that social security numbers would be needed for identification to get tickets to the McCain event. What? I could neither believe nor accept that, so I called the headquarters. "No I've not heard of that," responded the woman on the phone. I explained that I would be more than offended at such a tactic and would not give out my social security number to anyone, even Republicans. (Maybe especially Republicans these days!) She assured me it was not true. I followed up with a rebuttal clarifying email to Rosie and others whom she'd ill advised and probably alarmed. Today waiting for 9:00 when we could begin the calls, I mentioned this episode to one of the staff volunteers. She laughed and then said, "We had several strange calls yesterday about that and could not figure it out. We thought that's how they do things in MN." Well, no that's not what MN does, I assured her. An example of what happens when people talk about that which they do not know. This is not the first time I've experienced this with Rosie. She's well meaning, but should not be unleashed. Let her stick to her one issue, which I will not discuss here because I do not share her views.

All the calls were to places in WI, towns that I have never heard of so no one would know me. There was an easy script to follow, tables with the phone banks, and an automated phone onto which responses, or not, were to be entered. That was easy--follow the phone screen and enter.

This was my first experience working a call center! Now I know I'm old. To me it was the pits, sitting right next to someone else who is chattering the same dialogue plus all the commotion of people walking in for tickets, talking, etc. And that was the most pleasant part.

Some volunteers were not able to work the automated phones or to follow a script and would look to me as their "assistant" interrupting me at my assigned task with their how to's, etc. I noticed that these were predominantly women "of a certain age" who were clearly out of their element with automation. One would not expect phoning to be so difficult.

The center had many young republicans (I assume college students) on patrol, techie types and all to help. But no the "adults" sitting near me had to ask me. Then one of the volunteers, brought over a puzzled woman who agreed to make calls, "Here sit with this lady, (Pointing to me) she is very experienced and she can show you how to do this." YEEaach! Now I'm tapped as an expert. I guess that 30 minutes on the phones and the appearance of being busy gives that impression. How hard is this anyway? Well, I guess it depends on one's life experiences. So I mentioned to one of the kids that "if I have to train as well as call, that's double duty so I'd better be given extra preferred seating." The response was the blank stare, behind which I could see their brain cells churning, "like, what's wrong with this woman?" Well, I'm cranky because when I "worked" I managed and things went my way. Here I am volunteering like a peon! And amidst the puzzled. Several times I "sshhed" people near me. I do not like to be talking to someone in one ear and hearing something else in the other. I prefer to just hear myself and the responses. Years ago while I was teaching public speaking to women, one asked me why I was so natural at speaking, wasn't I afraid, didn't I get butterflies. No, I really do not. I explained jokingly that I love the sound of my own voice, I guess. But here in the call center hearing others while trying to talk is multi tasking beyond my skill set or certainly my patience!

Well I thank God that I never had to work in a call center. It got on my nerves. Now maybe I'll not be so rabid when callers invade my home phone. Usually I hang right up with a, "not interested, thank you, bye." Now that I have sat in their seats maybe I'll listen a bit before I say "no."

This effort in political volunteerism cost me about 3 hours of time. To further entertain myself, I amassed the following informal data:

Of the 115 calls I made approximately 30 were "numbers no longer in service.." most of these to apartment type addresses. So here is an evident problem with phone banks--obsolete data.
At this time of the day approximately 50 did not answer, so I assume not at home, at work, one hopes. Many of these did not have answering machines. This really surprised me, I thought everyone had one.
Only about 10 declined to answer the five questions.
The first question was along the lines, "In this presidential election will you be voting for McCain/Pailin, Obama/Biden or are you undecided?" Of the responses I only had one man who said, "I would not vote for either SOB." Other wise, the responses were heavily for McCain. That is encouraging to me to hear from WI. This makes questionable the polls proclaiming Obamanation certainty.

Maybe there is still hope in this election. I thought McCain blew the debate last night. And I thought Brokaw did a lousy job. I enjoy Tom Brokaw's books "The Greatest Generation" and "Boom." That's his real talent and I wish he'd stick there.

And when we go to hear and see McCain on Friday morning I hope it's worth the time and effort!

Limericks, reading and rushing in

If you check in here you know, I love to write and I love words. Jerry would add that I love to talk too. In CA a group of us met once a month to discuss poetry. Even better than that we each memorized a poem on whatever subject, poet, etc. we'd select the previous month. I loved that Saturday meeting. And I have to say, these were some of my most liberal political friends, but we could come together politics aside for poetry. By the way we all loved to read too. Am I on to something here?

At our local Curves, this month we host our annual book sale, the best deal around. We bring in books and sell them to each other for 50 cents for paperbacks and $1 for hardbacks and tapes/videos. Believe me this is a steal on some very expensive books. We have not raised our price in years. All the funds raised are donated to our local library. By working on this I have become the Curves librarian, daily arranging the books by subject, authors together, etc. Today Teresa, Curves owner,who is a free spirit and a sports player, but not very educated asked me how I knew so much about authors, books, etc. I really was taken aback because I do not believe I am any kind of scholar. But I did tell her, I have always been a reader. Give me a book and I'm entertained. This started in childhood with trips to the library. Now I own a great library in my house and must pass along books or would be driven out of house and home. I am thankful that I have the habit of reading and feel a degree of sympathy for those who do not and who miss out on worlds and learning and entertainment.

I have just had an experience that proves once again that sometime things take some time to jell. Yesterday a friend sent me an email about Limericks, as you can read below. Oh how I loved these things in school....So he challenged those of us who received it to come up with our own. Ahhhh it has be a while since I've done this, but I bit right into it. Then this morning, I had a revelation of improvement that came to me very clearly when I was making up our bed.

I have found in my life that when I am puzzled about something if I let it be, a solution comes when I quit dwelling on it. It took me oh so many years to learn this lesson. I've always been spontaneous, impulsive, rush in and do it now, go in with guns blazing, ready aim fire..... It's still difficult for me to let it jell or to stop and cool down and pray about it. Of course there are times when we cannot dwell or ruminate before we take action. However, here in retirement land, fewer things need immediate action.

So today, I offer my improved limerick and you can read below to see how all this got started....

There was a retired state worker
Who left behind the offices and worser,
But the PC, email and 'net called her
Before the screen for hours she sat
Till her fingers went flat
And her eyes went a-blur from the cursor.

My first attempt
I used to be able to do this right of the top of my head, but here goes

There was a retired state worker
Who left behind the office and worser,
But the PC, email and 'net called her,
In front of the screen there she sat
Till her fingers went flat
Typing back limericks and even worse versers!

(I take license making up words...if the rhyme fits, that's all that counts.)
Here is the original invite from my friend......
Subject: Limericks?
I was thinking about "limericks", at least, that's what I think they were called and an old one came to mind. I don't remember who the author was. Perhaps, I never knew. But here it is:

There was a young lady from Niger,
Who smiled as she rode on a tiger.
They returned from the ride
With the lady inside,
And the smile on the face of the tiger.

Then I thought, "Why not make one up yourself?" So I did, and here it is:

A drunk staggered out of a bar
And started for home in his car.
He thought he could pass
And gave it the gas,
But he misjudged the distance by far!

Home Again to a High School Reunion

Today's Sunday Parade Magazine (in the papers) featured James Grady's article,"You Can Go Home Again." He wrote about high school reunions and how it is different as the years go on. It struck me as I am looking toward a 50th in 2012 (how did we get this old?) in PA.

He wrote, "Reunions change reality..The 10 year reunion is about impressing your former peers...showing them you made it...By the 20th ..you get to just be yourself." At his 40th, "we hugged. The hugs meant we were still here." That's wisdom, to appreciate being here and to know what matters.

So I suppose we will really be ourselves at a 50th; after all who else would we be? By this stage of our age we surely know who we are. And if we are not comfortable in our own skin by now, look out!

I can remember some things about our 10th reunion that made me wonder where those jerks came from; especially one bozo who hit on me because he knew my husband was back in CA & here I was back home alone. As if I'd be grateful in his interest or him! Today I can't even remember his name, just the incident. I expect this time we will really enjoy each other.

This is the good thing about being comfortable in your skin, no need to impress. It's why I can ride my bike a couple miles to Curves in the morning, work out, and stop at the grocery store on my way home. All without a lick of makeup or hairdo. Actually it's more of a hair don't as I get out of bed, muddle a bit and take off.

I can remember that there was a time I'd never have done this. After aerobic classes I'd spiff up and always be sure there was a gloss over my lips. In CA I never ventured into town after gardening without mascara and lipstick; now I really don't care. In fact I like my au naturel look. So easy. I do the same while traveling in the motor home. I quit off all make up on our drives; Jerry's seen me in the natural for over 41 years, so if it doesn't bother him or me no one else matters. And if we stop somewhere, well, so?

Once in awhile though on the drives I think, "well I'd like better what I see in the mirror with a bit of mascara and gloss." So I do it for myself. I have saved gobs of $$ on foundations and blushes, eye shadows, all those frou frous that once upon a time I was fond of. Oh I still will make up but less. It's a blessing of aging--comfort in one's skin.

Recycling and PA

One of my friends sent me an email recently with tidbits and sayings unique to where I grew up, Pennsylvania. Perhaps I should correct that to PA was where I was born and raised because I really believe (as Jerry avows) that I did most of my growing up in CA through trials and turmoils from the age of 19. My life is proof that there really is a God and he intends good for us. Sometimes Jerry will say that I am still not grown up. Well last night I heard a 112 year old man on TV who made good time with his walker say that to live long one must keep using the mind and body. So if I do those things that cause some mind or body stress to myself or others, maybe that's my way to keep young.

We celebrated the 60th Applefest here in La Crescent Thursday through Sunday. It was a busy time and a hold over from the days when this really was the apple capital of MN. Now most of the orchards are gone to housing developments as the farmers became aware there was more money in selling out and off than working the orchards. All the small town activities and then some are available, craft show, flea market, antique car display, big small parade, kiddie events, crowning Miss La Crescent, etc. Right down our street at the "Hockey Rink--Community Center" is where the carnival and all musical activities (loud bands) convene. Our house is so solid with thick walls that we seldom hear anything outside even the near by high school football games don't phase us inside, but during Apple Fest the dark air and clear weather seem to carry the sound right into the house. The reverberating beats of some bands is more pleasant than others..We employed the philosophy, "If you can't beat 'em join 'em" this weekend by walking down the street through the carnival and to the beer tent and food vendors.

I noticed they were pouring a William Penn beer and so being from PA, I was curious. I mean we PA'ers know William Penn, our state Quaker founder of Penn's Woods. But I did not expect to find a mention of him here in MN, nor across the river in WI. Sure enough there was the face of William, but the beer is brewed across the river in La Crosse, WI. Don't ask me why they chose that name. Is it because the La Crosse Brewery bought out the PA brewery or was it the other way around? Anyway, I am more adventuresome than Jerry at trying out different beers--he's a beer purist and prefers his Bud or Busch. Wm. Penn is a bitter tasting darker more toward the ale flavor. I liked it and enjoyed several over the weekend, especially with the cheese curds. Cheese curds are a WI phenomena. At least no where else in the country have I had these. When fresh, the best, they squeak in your mouth on your teeth when you eat them. Then being WI, land of the hearty they take a good fattening product and make it more so. I know what you're thinking, but don't even try to substitute mozzarella sticks for fried cheese curds. Fried curds hand dipped in a batter and deep fried, so that you get a good crunch to melting cheese when you eat them. Well you get a ton of fat calories and a significant increase in cholesterol too, but somethings have to be sacrificed for enjoyment. I figured that I'd walked off enough calories the full weekend.

Saturday night we both worked at our Legion's steak fry. I'm an officer in the auxiliary thanks to a friend who keeps dragging me into things. Since we were in town this time, I was obligated to help. And if I'm going to and Jerry is standing near at the time of the volunteerism, he gets conscripted too. Conscripted, isn't that a colonial term? There's that PA heritage again. Back to the steak event where we served about 300 people between 5:00and 8:00PM. We were waiters/waitresses/bus persons, etc. That was a long time on the feet and busy. I always think that all my working out has me in great shape until I'm tasked like that, then I'm worn out for a couple days and wonder how come?

Last week, I also accomplished a bucket goal (From the movie, "The Bucket List") to walk across the Mississippi River on the Bridge between La Crosse and La Crescent. We are enjoying the best weather--80 degree days and crisp mornings. On Wednesday a friend visited and we hiked down our back hill and around the road to a new restaurant where we enjoyed coffee and scones. I invited her to come along on my walk over the bridge. She declined and Jerry was not at all receptive. So off I went--it's over a mile there and another mile+ across the river and then back. Quite the walk for a day. See photo for just a glimpse of the beauty of the area--you'd want to walk too!

Somehow with these activities I've aggravated a muscle or something in my shin and foot. It doesn't hurt much except at night, though when it aches like the dickens. It's improving and has meant my taking it easy and giving up my bike riding and work out for a couple days. Proof again that my mind is younger than my body. And I recall doing something like this once or twice before. One should learn to not recycle old hurts, or reinjure.

I think of PA a lot more than I ever did. Partially because we live closer now and partly because of my refound friends. I almost wrote recycled friends but how can you do that? I suppose that could become the new rage--recycled friends, just like everything else that is recycled today.

Recently I noticed that AVON is selling the old plastic big hair rollers. Talk about something to not recycle--big hair and rollers. I really prefer my wash and blow dry do to setting my hair around plastic rollers to get volume. But there before my eyes is the proof--and it's touted as a new beauty secret. Sheesh! A couple years ago I was taking a class at UW La Crosse about literature. As an assignment we had to write a short story about something. I wrote "Hairscapades" about my life with my hair, big, blond, long, short, wigs, teased, permed, etc. You name it this head's had it. It wasn't too long ago while I was still in CA career land that I'd occasionally give my self a pouf in the mornings by using some of those plastic netty type rollers in my hair while I was in the shower. But now to even think of the hard plastic rollers and long hair, hmph, hey, faah-ged 'bout it(forget about is the translation for non- PA'ers.)

A few weeks ago a young man at our church asked me where I was from to which I looked at him with a "what do you mean?" He explained, "well I can tell you aren't from here by the way you talk." Of course, I'm not a MN sounding, "sure, yah, you betcha, uff'da." It's hard for me to answer that question and I generally respond that I'm from CA because I spent more time there than PA. Sometimes I feel I should give my background, so I reply explaining my 40+ years in CA and 19 in PA give me a unique sound. I think I have no PA accent at all when I hear folks from there. But sometimes it comes out. When I was singing in a quartet in CA my voice coach spotted it right away. She worked to get it out of my musicality. Sometimes after I've been to PA I readopt some expressions, like, "you guys. " In PA, 'You guys' is a perfectly acceptable reference to a group of men and women.

One PA colloquialism unique to the Pittsburgh area is "younse." If I hear that anywhere in the world, I know I've encountered a Pittsburgher. Or should I say, Picksburgher, as the locals. Once in an airport in Dallas, I heard a man say it and asked "You're from Pittsburgh?" To which he replied "How'd djah know?"

Another phenomena that I do, is refer to Pennsylvania as 'PA'(pronounced Pee-ay) and that makes heads cock. How many other states do that? None that I've visted. Other PA facts:You know that Blue Ball, Intercourse, Paradise , Climax, Bird-in-Hand, Beaver, Moon, Virginville, Mars, and Slippery Rock are PA towns. (and the first three were consecutive stops on the Reading RailRoad). A few years ago back in PA to tend to my aunt while she had surgery I took her for a longer than planned ride. We went to a festival at Sharpsburg and on the return trip ended up in Mars. We had a good laugh about that. But look at those names again, those coal miners had active sex lives! And finally, you must be a Pennsylvanina if you know and recognize a township, borough and commonwealth....

All these terms are now recycled to me--things I once said and did and knew about and now have returned with more frequency. Our local newspaper tthe LaCrosse Tribune is running a weekly history feature for the schools about the Presidents. I discover that my PA learning has endured because I really can fill in the blanks and match the correct President with the correct little known facts. I attribute this recycled knowledge to what was taught in the PA schools.

Lipstick and pigs in the mud

I don't know about you but these days I've thought about lipstick more than I have the last many months. Beginning with Sarah's "lipstick" and yesterday Ob(s)ama's pigs, lipstick seems to be making a comeback. For quite some time all I've worn is lip gloss or lip balm. Lipstick wears off easily and smudges the cup or glass I'm using. I can never keep it on and might start out with some color which is all gone soon. I can keep some balm or gloss in my pocket and smooth it on in a second. Besides I prefer a glossy shine that plumps up my lips.

When I first heard Osama's remark I didn't get that it might be a veiled insult. It took me about 15 minutes. That's fairly quick for me. I'm slow that way. There's an advantage to not "getting" certain distasteful or off color jokes and stories. I can look at the teller with the quizzical, "huh." Others around might be uncomfortable or might even laugh but often when it is just downright something I'd rather not hear my natural proclivity to not understand serves me well. Jerry attributes it to my being blond and Polish.

During my career days, I had a framed cartoon hanging in my office. It featured a big sloppy pig angrily rising out of the mud. The caption, "Never try to teach a pig to sing, it wastes your time and it annoys the pig." So watch out Osama-bama, you have annoyed the pig in the mud. The polls show it.

No one mentions that the polls currently showing that 76% of blacks will vote for Obama might reflect black pride or reverse racism. We dare not insinuate that blacks would only vote for him because he's one of them. Yeah I know whites and others are also on his bandwagon. It has perplexed me since he started to campaign why he has never presented himself biracial, but ran with the black. That's his choice. But when women gather round Sarah suddenly we are wrong; we are just going with a "woman" because we are one. That's reverse sexism! And another thing, we can't even use the expression "pot calling the kettle black" for fear of that being considered racist. What a tangled web we've woven with political correctness.

Now I'm not for Sarah just because she is a woman. I felt stuck with McCain who was not my candidate, but the alternative did not appeal to me. I was initially disappointed when I heard Sarah's selection for vice president. But you know what, the more I see her and the more I learn the more I like her. Why not? Nope I don't agree with her stands on everything. I am not a single issue voter; I believe in choice but I find that I have to vote my fiscal conservative views first. And how about Sarah choosing to have her Down's syndrome baby. Now that is choice. Why are some of us offended, if we believe in a woman's right to choose, she did just that. Here we have in Sarah the ultimate working mom.

I am currently reading John McCain's book, "Hard Call." It is about the art of great decision making and uses stories of individuals through out history to demonstrate the eight criteria John considers essential to making great decisions. This is the kind of book I relish, history with reflections for today. So far I have read about Alexander Graham Bell, Jackie Robinson and Branch Rickey, Ronald Reagan and Mikhail Gorbachev, Marshall Fields, Werner von Braun, and others. Two qualities John considers essential in decisions are risk taking and timing. I think he has followed his own criteria choosing Sarah.

When Hillary was running I considered her. But her Bill baggage and her views just didn't wash with mine in many ways. Yet my friends have heard me say "I sure would love to vote for a woman for President before I croak."

So now along comes refreshing lipstick toting Sarah who carries the reform torch. Friends in Alaska are crazy about her. Her approval rating exceeds any other governor. Well she has something going for her. And maybe we do too now. I'm about as happy as that pig rolling in the mud watching the liberal "news" media be offended because they did not have advance notice; I heard Sally Quinn say, "we should have known about this months ago." Why? Translate that to they couldn't be ready to smear. The element of surprise at its best.

So let's keep our lipstick fresh, add the gloss and keep a big smile for Sarah. As for the other side, watch out for the angry rising pigs. As for Osama, Sarah is a far better shot than Dick Cheney and she can dress down the kill besides.

Apple pie season in MN

Simple Simon met a pie man going to the fair.....Just two days back on Thursday and Friday my friend Rachel and I made and baked 67 apple pies for our church to sell on Saturday at the city wide rummage sale. This was a repeat of our prior year feat when a farmer donated hundreds of pounds of dropped apples from the floods and some church hands gleaned them. We couldn't ignore that gift, somehow Rachel and I were conscripted to open a Methodist bakery. Maybe it's cause we are both retired and known as good cooks. Maybe it's that we are too willing to go along and help. But this is the last time...we are now officially out of business and I have recorded this on the web so that next year I can look back and vividly recall. Rachel and I are either slow learners or we are living proof of the adage that time heals all wounds including tired feet and legs and hands.

September and late August begin apple harvest here in this corner of MN which used to be the apple capital of the state. Now most of those orchards are gone to housing development. But the tradition of baking apple pies, apple squares and apple cakes continues. I don't know what's my excuse because I am not from here. Shades of the past and Apple Hill from CA. Or is it the recollection of the PA stories of Johnny Appleseed. Something about the first crisp coolness to the air and the memories of aroma of apple pies brings out our rolling pins.


We announced our retirement to all including her hubby, Glen, who helped us by peeling apples and who thought we could do this again this year. He recalled it being "fun" last year. I'm in charge of procurement which means making a Sam's run for 50 # sugar, 50 # flour, 12 # Crisco, 3 # butter and a large container of cinnamon and allspice. Then the local Woodman's for the pie tins. Glen purchased 70 # of apples, 40 # more than I wanted. But he considers this an outing of sociability and fun! That's because he sits on a stool and uses the apple peeling machine while I wash, cut and core apples, mix them with the sugar, cinnamon, allspice and flour and Rachel makes and rolls the crusts and slips the pies in and out of the oven. The day wraps with our massive clean up of the church kitchen and utensils. Glen says we are the three musketeers--I think we are the three stooges!

After standing on our feet for two long days in a row, 8:00AM till 5:30 PM I believe I've toughened up from last year. Thursday evening I was able to go to my monthly women's Bunko game and didn't feel too worn out. Oh those few glasses of Pinot wine hit the spot and rejuvenated me to shake those dice. I sure could have slept in longer Friday morning but there was not time to slip back and count apples jumping over the fences. By Friday evening I knew we had done something as did Rachel's feet and my arthritic right hand. So we advised Glen to sell the remaining bags of apples at the sale the next day and we closed up at 5:30 Friday. Slave labor ends.

All this to benefit our Missions committee with funds to distribute to needy deserving causes. I'm not even on that committee but I do this so Rachel won't be the lone ranger pie maker. Last year we had a little help both days but this year one gal's husband is facing hip replacement surgery and had presurgery appointments with him. Others did not answer their phones. Likely they remember last year's shifts and played "nobody home" when they saw my number on caller id. Our pastor's wife helped out for a few hours on Thursday taking pity on us and using this as a chance to get to know us.

Oh we make it pleasant and have several laughs. At the end of the day, we look like sugar and spice and not so nice. I thought I was the solitary sloppy cook--I am just like my grandma who wore whatever she cooked. Rachel does just the same; hoisting one 25 # sack of flour she overshot her bowl and somehow nearly dipped her nose in the sack. As it was she had flour on her glasses, through her hair. Well it didn't show up as she has white hair.

The pies were better this year and sold for $10 to $8. Last year one elderly lady who volunteered to help was stingy with the apples. She made Frisbees or pancakes, not pies. So Rachel tried to adjust some the next day by adding apples and remaking. We gave up and those pies nearly ruined our reputation. This year we knew we could regain it, but we did not solicit help widely lest she show up again. With volunteers you have to take what comes.

Friday while baking the aroma enticed sale of five pies from a small group meeting at our church. Saturday the men have a brat cook where the town comes out to feed amidst garage sale mania. Jerry & I went up to eat lunch. They also sold slices of pies this year. Finding no rummage of interest or vital calling, I even bought one of my own pies to bring home....well you wouldn't think I'd want to make another pie after home after this two day event. And there was Jerry drooling because unlike last year I'd not brought any samples home. We ate them ourselves to be sure we were not making inferior merchandise. Our pastor joined us for lunch Thursday and ate pie too. Friday he returned at lunch and sat smiling. But Friday there was no "free pie." The lure of the aroma did him in so he opened his wallet to buy a pie against his wife's advice that he did not need to eat pie every day. Makes you wonder if Eve really was tempted with just an apple hanging on the tree or if that slithery serpent baked an apple pie and the aroma was just irresistible.

It will take a couple days yet for my hand to be right again, and then I'll be making our own pies. I'd already made one apple pie and one pan of French apple squares a couple weeks ago. But for a couple days here in recovery mode, I'd just as soon not see an apple or the rolling pin.

Margie Sway

I wonder how we adapt traits that make us become like those who are not DNA relations? And just what traits are genetic? For a long time I've wondered about what's genetic and what's environmental? I also wonder about how much environmental is needed to be influential?

Aunt Marge in 1941,  before marriage

Today I thought about my Aunt Marge; she was my aunt because she married Uncle Carl, Mom's brother. Aunt Marge died in 1997 and Uncle Carl is still going strong living on his own in Lower Burrel, PA at the age of 89. I sure wish he would consider hiring help in mowing his lawn, etc. but that's another story of the stubborn Ostrowski Polish lineage. Well that was another thing, Aunt Marge was a "Slovak" and the Polish let her know that too. The comment, "what can you expect from a Slovak?" was said in a teasing manner but seriously too.

Aunt Marge was a beautician. She had her shop in their home for as long as I remember. She put hair up in pin curls for many older ladies many years after it went out of fashion to do so. She also liked to travel while Uncle Carl confined his travels to annual reunions with his WWII Army buddies and many fishing and hunting trips with the guys. He said he'd seen enough of Europe during the war to last him for several lifetimes. So Aunt Marge traveled with others or took tours on her own to Europe and all over. Aunt Marge had a favorite saying, "Carl if you can't speak and say something nice to me just don't say anything at all." And with that she'd vacate the room or area, off smiling about her way. They never had any children.

I thought of Aunt Marge when I put on an old sweatshirt jacket today that I've had for years. It's way too big but comfortable. I admired the floral and faded sage green pattern and the corduroy collar when I picked it up at some garage sale in CA for probably $1 years ago. I wore it to aerobic classes in CA because it reached to my knees and gave cover over the leotard and tights till I got into class. I've not lived in CA for 3 years and I must have given up aerobics at least 10 years prior to that. I toss this history of this sweatshirt jacket in so you get the drift of my parsimonious side. Some things I just keep. Well last year I looked at it hanging in the closet abandoned for years, and being in one of my sewing moods said, "I'll shorten it and then I can wear it with jeans and it won't look so bad." Never mind that the shoulders hang 3 inches below my shoulders and the cuffs fall far below my hands, I push those up. It's comfortable. So I did indeed cut it down to jacket size length. Aunt Marge would have been proud.

She was short and often her clothes were too long. In my family Aunt Jinx, Mom's & Carl's sister, is a top notch seamstress who for a time, when she was laid off from Pittsburgh Plate Glass worked as a seamstress at a blouse factory. By the way she too is still hanging in there at age 86 and lives in her own home, a widow in Natrona Hts., PA.

Well Aunt Marge used to cut down her skirts and even her shirts, making them shorter to fit her. All this she would do spontaneously as one day she'd put the clothing on and it suddenly occurred to her that it was too long. But while Aunt Marge might have been great with hair, sewing was not her forte. She could neither cut nor stitch a straight line. But it didn't bother her much, she was always proud of her alterations. It came to be known as the Margie sway!

Jinx would take one look at Marge's product and say, "Marge take that off and give it to me to take home and fix." Aunt Marge would be astonished,"Fix it? I just did. See how good it fits." It was a routine for I Love Lucy. Usually these discussions ended by Jinx taking the altered article home with her to sew it straight and fix it right. Jinx too has the stubborn Ostroski lineage which I really must write about someday on this blog. Though they were friends, the Pollack always won over the Slovak.

A couple years ago visiting in PA I put on a pair of slacks that were too long which I'd shortened. Jinx was horrified. She immediately said, "Patty take those off and let me hem them." I laughed and said, "Oh I already did..see they fit." Jinx nearly became apoplectic and continued--"I don't know how you can be like Aunt Marge wearing something that crooked......" And she would straighten my hems.

So today after heading outside with my jacket I caught my reflection in the car window. Wow! This jacket hem is not straight at all! I had to laugh out loud--Aunt Marge's spirit attacks again. Here in retirement in MN , I sew a lot more and know way better. I can sew and cut straight lines too! But here's my jacket with a Margie sway to it. And I've worn it for over a year this way--well it's just for kicking around. Maybe this will start a new cut to clothing in the fashion line--I just might have a new design. And I would call it the "Margie sway", see the directions now, --cut two lengths to the Margie sway, hem with 2 to 3 inches of the Margie sway!

So while there was no genetic link to Aunt Marge and I did not spend lots of time with her, how did I pick up this trait? Or is it that as a people we are all really a lot more alike than we can imagine?