… and remember that life’s a great balancing act. ~Dr. Seuss
I fed the birds on New Year’s Day.
I’ve written before about the Scandinavian custom of feeding the birds on the first day of the new year because it will bring you luck the rest of the year.
Since the expected snow and sleet from New Year’s Eve did not mess up sidewalks and streets, off I went, on foot, to mark my first five miles of 2025 and feed my feathered and furry friends at Council Point Park. My Park pals didn’t recognize the holiday as a new year, (although I’m sure they were glad to leave the old year behind), but they likely had their ears blasted bigtime by the fireworks going off in the area in the wee hours of January 1st.
Last week’s blog post was chock full of what I did (or didn’t do) in 2024. I mentioned how much time I spend on photos. While I don’t spend any time editing my photos, (I’m not that much of a perfectionist yet), I consider that most of the time I am just a lucky photographer, being at the right place at the right time. I’m going to start exploring Windows 11’s editing features though because there is always room for improvement in everything we do, right? I spend loads of time on the trail(s) stopping and taking photos, then sorting through them later. I also spend a lot of time scratching my head WHY I take SO many photos, many which are duplicative. 🙂
With my furry friends, there will be perfect shots when they are patiently posing while munching on peanuts or walnuts, but then there are times I return home with squirrels missing snouts, or an up-close picture of a furry tail and nothing else. Squirrels are quicker than the eye sometimes and, in the gloomy and bitter cold Winter days, often the flash is slow to fire, so that “Kodak Moment” is lost forever.
My “Birdie Bucket List” for 2025.
It has become my annual tradition to update my list of coveted birds to see and photograph and, as you see below, they are the same old-same old “wants” plus I’ve added White Pelicans which were inadvertently not included before. I know Sterling State Park is the White Pelicans’ favorite stopover when migrating south, but in 2025 this park will be undergoing a much-needed rehab to their trails, which is good news since there are trip-and-fall hazards from tree roots all along the 3.6 mile paved loop trail. Depending on how extensive the rehab is, I might not get to see those big white birds in 2025.
I photographed a few new-to-me feathered friends in 2024.
As a result of countless excursions, mostly to Lake Erie Metropark, I was able to add the below trio of new birds to my “Birding Life List” making a grand total of 58 birds seen in my lifetime.
I’ve seen female Wood Ducks with their ducklings before, but never the male with its extraordinary plumage. Too bad this fellow was way across the marsh, meandering amongst the lily pads and reeds.
Seeing a raft of American Coots gathered at the Sterling Marsh at Sterling State Park had me clicking away. I had seen photos of them on birding sites and instantly recognized these birds by their white bill.
On a trip to photograph about-to-fledge-the-nest Ospreys at Pointe Mouillee DNR Headquarters, I was lucky to see these unique-looking “bonus” birds with their orangey-red bills and black caps. They are Caspian Terns.
There were also a few birds I encountered/photographed, which you have not “met” yet. Whenever I go on longer excursions at larger parks, once I get online, I write a quick summary of what the walk entailed because it may be awhile until I pair the photos taken to the summary and compile and publish that post. So, after quickly perusing those summaries, I will tell you that as my posts about 2024 excursions unfold, you will meet a Bank Swallow, an American Bittern and a Black-crowned Night Heron.
Who doesn’t love babies?
Every April I am on baby watch at Heritage Park. I ensure I get there to see if Mama Canada Goose is sitting on a nest, at her favorite place, on the boulders near the bridge. It can’t be a comfy place to nest, but she evidently feels safe and Papa is there to shoo away gawking walkers and nosy dogs who dare to stray near his mate. After scoping out this venue weekly, the blessed event happens around Mother’s Day and my reward is a passel of lemon-colored, sweet-faced goslings like these two.
When the initial phase of the Council Point Park Project began on May 8th I swore off taking my camera to my favorite nature nook until it looked halfway-decent once again. But my mindset changed three weeks later when I arrived at the Park early one Saturday morning to see a Mama Robin feeding her one and only offspring. Instantly my resolve fizzled, my heart softened and I hurried home to grab my camera. The pictures may not be the best due to sun and shadows, but they were among my favorite Kodak Moments in 2024.
Unfortunately I only had a few days to enjoy those tender moments …
… because soon the nestling became a fledgling and the nest, which had been nestled in the barbed-wire fence, suddenly was empty.
I made multiple trips to Lake Erie Metropark in search of anticipated offspring.
First, I craned my neck to find a Sandhill Crane colt, the offspring of the pair of cranes I always see at Lake Erie Metropark near a fishing bridge, but I had no success; however I did get some close-ups of what I believe are a mated pair – this is one of them, checking out me who is otherwise known as the pesky photographer.
Repeatedly I scoured that park, in all the nooks and crannies, for does and their fawns; I saw only one pair and the fawn was pretty big. The pair got separated after I must have spooked them. Mama headed over the fence, but the fawn had to find a place to leap and join its mother as it could not jump that high and there were bushes which hindered it as well. I was as panicked as the fawn was, but, as it loped along parallel to the fence …
… it gained speed and finally found a “jumpable spot” and those spindly legs soared over that pesky fence. Whew!
Other fun foto finds …
I smiled when I saw this Muskrat chomping on a Lotus Leaf along the Cherry Island Trail at Lake Erie Metropark …
While on an early Spring jaunt at Elizabeth Park, I found a lot of these guys singing away in a large puddle in a low area in the grass. How nice to be serenaded while I ambled by.
Here is a slideshow of the rest of my favorite shots from 2024.
From Rebeca Green’s Etsy site “Atlas Vintage Prints”
I wouldn’t say 2024 was the best year ever for me … it was filled with ups and downs to be honest and began on a sour note as I HAD intended to retire on December 31, 2023, but reluctantly agreed to stay another three months.
The wacky weather was another thorn in my side.
The weather at the onset of 2024 was wacky and wild, wherein two full weeks passed without walking, with me only venturing outside to run the car. That short walk was accomplished precariously as freezing rain and bitter cold had created a skating rink that even my ice-melting product could not dissolve. Of course I worried about my furry and feathered friends at the Park, but I also worried about a slip and fall for me, so when I finally got back to the Park, while it was impossible to count snoots and beaks, I was satisfied everyone was present and accounted for as they rushed toward me when I started on the perimeter path. Perhaps it was my smiling face, but most likely the smell of peanuts perked up their nostrils.
Come Spring we had many days of rain, torrential rain. Then the heat and humidity settled in. Ugh!
Then there was July 22nd, the hottest day recorded on Earth and smack dab in the middle of the Dog Days of Summer. Everyone was sweating that day!
This weather worrier often stewed over the stormy nights that accompanied those sultry temps. Sigh!
Our warmish Winter of 2023-2024 meant the mosquitoes and ticks didn’t die off, so we contended with those pests too!
We had a warm Fall right into November which allowed me to recoup those two weeks sans walking and some days when it was so stinking hot and humid that I didn’t step out for as long. When I got to the last 100 miles/160 kilometers, the weather got a little erratic as you see below.
Council Point Park: Paradise lost in one fell swoop.
Any minor personal disappointments were surpassed by the destruction of Council Point Park, my favorite walking venue. Here it is pictured in all seasons at the beginning of the perimeter path before “The Project”. (Note the trees along the Ecorse Creek shoreline on the left-hand side of each photo.)
To anyone who cared to listen and in my blog I bemoaned the destruction of my favorite nature nook as I have enjoyed walking there since discovering it in 2013. On May 8th, multiple earth-moving machines wreaked havoc along the entire Ecorse Creek, destroying the habitats of squirrels, songbirds and waterfowl along the shoreline, while in nesting season no less, as well as unearthing turtles as they sunned themselves on fallen logs and paddled lazily in the Creek, sending those poor creatures airborne.
The following day, upon seeing the cringeworthy destruction, my eyes filled with tears for “Paradise Lost” and for the critters, their “homes” in trees that were now haphazardly horizontal, birds with offspring still in the nests, or squirrels that were now skittish, terrified of the loud machines and grieving the loss of their offspring, similarly in the nests. One woman walker told me she saw a female squirrel, heart beating frantically, making many trips from a fallen tree, each time carrying a different dead offspring in her teeth. I’m grateful I didn’t witness that. I have written about the destruction twice, here and here.
This continues to hurt my heart.
I wish I could say it looks better now, seven months later, but I can’t. Kelly Rose, a woman who is involved with the Friends of the Detroit River, is an advocate of saving the Ecorse Creek and organizing clean-ups and assured me in our back-and-forth messages that native plants will be planted along the Ecorse Creek shoreline. To me, that will never replace the ambiance, large trees and critters’ habitats, nor offspring lost when the destruction began.
However, I now wonder about the promise of those native plants because a few weeks ago, I was walking at the Park when a landscaping crew was working along the shoreline. I watched them for a long time as they spread a teal substance which resembled lawn patch. After the patch was applied on both sides of the Creek, a machine shredded up bales of straw, which spewed out layers to cover that lawn patch. “Hmm – this doesn’t look like native plants to me” I mused to myself.
So, when the machinery motors were silent, I strolled over to inquire about the job and was told “it’s just grass patch ma’am – there will hopefully be grass come Spring” but he knew nothing about native plants that were to be planted on the shoreline areas.
As you see in this slideshow below, the stumps have been leveled to the ground (somewhat), brush and weeds removed, but the ugliness remains. These photos were taken about a week apart, before and after the lawn patch and straw were applied. Also, a few days ago the City finally installed a new park bench to replace the one the machinery mangled. It overlooks what used to be “The Point” a very picturesque area of the Park.
In early Fall the poor squirrels buried their peanuts for lean times, only to have them unearthed once again. No wonder some of them are still skittish and wary at times.
The water level is extremely low in the Creek now and it is rare to see a duck in the water these days. In recent months, we’ve had deer sightings on the other side of the Creek and there have been coyotes that have crossed over to the Park, wading through the water, not walking on ice … of course, this is not great news for the furry and/or feathered critters that make Council Point Park their home.
A ray of sunshine ….
But, amidst the negativity above, there was one small glimmer of hope I experienced on my Christmas Day visit.
I have seen this tiny fir tree there for the past few years and I really never gave it much thought as the City planted many deciduous tree saplings around the same time. I took this photo intending to include it with my Christmas post.
But about two weeks ago I showed up one morning, without my camera, to find this tiny tree sporting one red bulb, à la the infamous Charlie Brown Christmas tree. The next day I took my camera, half-expecting to see the bulb smashed on the ground, or gone.
Surprising, it was still there, so I took this photo to use along with the squirrels for my Christmas Day post instead of the original photo.
To my surprise, on my Christmas Day walk, a male walker, whom I only run into sporadically, pointed out how festive “his” tree looked. Of course Your Roving Reporter had to dig into that whole story and I learned that he had one of those small Christmas trees in a pot at home. It was getting big, so two years ago he and a buddy planted the tree along the perimeter path. (Luckily they didn’t plant it on the opposite side.) The tree “took” and is thriving, several feet tall now and he decided to bring one red bulb and place it on the tree. Well it brightened my spirits after seven months of looking at the remnants of what had once been a beautiful venue.
Now on to a few more positive notes about my year and yes, I realize this post will be very long, so I will be doing my favorite pics of 2024 post next week.
For the 13th straight year, I met my walking goal!
Aptly, I put a bow on my 2024 walking goal (1,257 miles/2,024 kilometers) on Christmas Day. I had five more miles left and with the threat of multiple days of rain and/or fog looming, I figured I’d better just get ‘er done. I waited until mid-day when I knew there would be no slick spots and ventured out. Yay! You know the drill – for 2025, it will be one more mile (1,258 miles/2,025 kilometers).
However, unlike the gingerbread girl pictured above, I was not hampered by snow in the waning days of 2024 as to my mileage goal. In fact, yesterday we enjoyed balmy weather: 58F/14C, some 24 degrees above normal. Not exactly Winter weather, but I’ll take it!
So, onward and upward for 2025!
Even my 15-year-old car got a workout as I put a whopping 1,545 miles on it in 2024. I know fellow bloggers Ruth and JP will be patting me on the back for sure with those stats! 🙂
Retirement is bliss; I rather like being a lady of leisure.
Nine months ago today I retired … Good Friday, 2024.
I was 67 years old … two weeks before I would turn 68 and what better incentive to just do it after reading this earlier in the year?
So, post-retirement … have I been productive, or was I a slacker? Well … ahem, if we are discussing walking miles, I did well and, if we are discussing blog post productivity, I churned out 106 posts. I can’t fathom how many photos I took – whew! Great Linda, those are fun things to do, but, if only everything else I planned (in my head) would have wrapped up so nicely by year-end, I’d have been thrilled.
WordPress decided Windows 7 was passé …
Well, thank you for doing that WP and, when I could no longer create a post without it freezing every few sentences, it was time to upgrade, something I had avoided doing for many years. Windows 7 was comfortable, like my walking shoes and it must be a sign of getting older, resisting change and all. So the upgrade was a pain and cut into my DAILY TO DO CHART but it got done … I had no choice.
Accomplishments and/or new ventures.
By the end of September, I took stock of my accomplishments in the six months post-retirement and my brow furrowed a little. Sure I had walked my socks off and taken a slew of photos but I had not accomplished a heck of a lot otherwise, despite my good intentions.
As to walking, sometimes it didn’t really feel much like anything was different, except having the ability to go on longer excursions at bigger parks on weekdays. I continued rising at the crack of dawn, still heading out as soon as it was light to enjoy the coolest part of the day, so old habits never died in that respect.
Then, along came September and the advent of Fall. All of a sudden the sun was rising later and later and a little bell went off in my head when I realized I no longer had to scramble to get my miles walked and hurry home to get ready for work … I could leave later and still get a long walk in.
It was finally time to shake off that mindset and embrace retirement – right?
But Linda – what about all the lists of things you wanted to accomplish?
Since I announced my retirement in my Easter post, a few of you have told me “you have all the time in the world – relax” or they suggested that “the retirement agenda and things you wanted to accomplish will eventually fall into place – you just need to find your groove.”
I took all those recommendations to heart – really I did. But, um, six months later and all I had accomplished was finding five new venues to visit, walk and take photos of. And I had done a lot of walking down the beaten path (and along that *&^# beaten path I had a tick hitch a ride on my ear – grrr).
But, did I get my house decluttered of work clothes and accessories I won’t be wearing in this retirement phase of my life? Well I half-heartedly embarked on that project and, after initially digging my heels into that task I proudly carried ten or more bags of garbage to the curb. Then I had to curtail that venture since the City switched garbage collection companies on July 1st and it took them about six weeks to get themselves together, sometimes not showing up for several weeks at a time So, I tabled that project to the new year now. in the depths of Winter to tackle it in earnest. Fitting household projects around walking, photography, blogging, reading and other hobbies, it seems housework takes a back seat.
Hobbies you say? What hobbies?
As September drew to a close, I sat nursing my coffee after returning home from a five-mile jaunt and took stock of stuff … “stuff” being my life.
What happened to all the retirement resolutions about hobbies I made? They were in the cloud, the cloud being in my head as I didn’t write down any lists. I had hobbies I wanted to pursue … taking some art classes, learning a language, reading more – had I accomplished any of these things? No!!
Procrastinate much?? I admit I am critical of myself most days.
So, in October I began dipping my toe in the water …
One item on my Retirement Bucket List was to learn how to sketch and paint, the latter so I may eventually join a plein air painting group when they have “paint-outs” where they gather at various large parks that I frequent and paint the landscape. I’ve written about the group in the past and I am in their Facebook group so I see where they go and what they paint. After meeting them the first time I took a free watercolor painting class down along the Detroit River at Dingell Park, went home, ordered lots of art supplies from Amazon and everything is packed in a box awaiting me to be inspired and begin.
So I signed up for a watercolor class taught by a local artist who is also a high school art teacher and on October 9th, off I went to learn how to paint still life pumpkins and I produced this painting which will never hang in the National Gallery of Art or The Louvre, but it was fun.
In fact, I intended to book myself for a second class but could not as the venue lost internet/phone/power so when that fizzled and died, I took an online watercolor tutorial instead. It will be a while until I’ve got the chops to join the group … practice makes perfect, right?
I resolved to study French and began doing so online after a 46-year absence from speaking or writing it. French was mandatory in Canada, so I took it from age five to ten and resumed throughout my college years; in fact, the last two years of our advanced French class we were not permitted to speak English. I thought I’d have an advantage, but other than remembering numbers and simple words like dog, cat and cow, it’s been intense with lots of grammar and loads of vocabulary words (750 to date) and verb conjugations (ugh) – today is Day #66. Brain strain for sure!
From “The Paper Grove1” (Etsy)
In the last quarter of the year, I started and finished four books before year-end and hope to become the avid reader I once was.
After wavering back and forth about the backyard perimeter gardens destroyed by the downed wire fire in December 2022 and the last Polar Vortex, every time I went into the backyard, I wavered on simply laying down sod versus a new butterfly garden. I had the back garden debris and tree stumps removed, new retainer walls put in and mulch laid down. As of now, I’m hoping to start a perennial garden come Spring; my only concern is if we have another extraordinarily hot Summer … or, for that matter, erratic weather going forward. It is a lot of work – do I want to dedicate that much time to it? I have awhile to ponder over it at any rate.
I guess if I had to pick a word for 2025, it would be this one … soon I will begin the 2025 version of tallying up my steps and I hope they continue to be long and leisurely walks, the best kind.
Your New Year’s greeting from me will arrive in this week’s Wordless Wednesday.
In this blog, I often step back in time, especially around the holidays, to reflect on days gone by. So, if you’ll indulge me one more time this year, I’ll share with you why teddy bears are still here, there and everywhere in my home.
The title of this blog has the word “WHIMSY” in it, so I think it is the perfect forum to introduce you to my INDOOR furry friends. After all, you’ve met Maryanne, the rag doll that has graced the kitchen deacon’s bench since 1985, Tilda Jane, my first doll and Joe the Monkey, stitched together by my mom when she was in the hospital some 85 years ago.
This post is about a collection of teddy bears I amassed in the 90s and through 2006. They are all still here, present and accounted for, although I stopped collecting teddy bears when I turned 50, my last acquisition being Boyds Bears Red Hat Society“Ima Lotsafun” seen below. (Yep, sadly just one Ima was not enough.)
“The Women of the Red Hat Society” (“RHS”) is a social group for women that began in 1998. There are 40,000 Chapters in 30 countries, a kind of sisterhood where its members’ credo encourages women to get the most out of life. From their website comes this motto that supports “women in the pursuit of Fun, Friendship, Freedom, Fitness and the Fulfillment of lifelong dreams.” (That’s a ton of alliteration! Dave will like that!)
When the Red Hat Society was formed in 1998, their members, who were aged 50 or above, didn’t dread turning the half-century mark, but instead embraced the idea. Once open to only 50+ year-old women, who would join one another at RHS social events, while wearing purple dresses and donning bright-red hats, membership was also extended to under-50-year-old women, who dressed in more subdued pastel colors: pink hats and lavender dresses.
I was only 42 years old when the Red Hat Society debuted, but I was mindful of the hoopla it entailed. You can read more about the RHS, which is still going strong in 2024, by clicking here.
Oops, I digressed a little because …
I really wanted to start at the beginning, as to the bears … I mean, who writes in reverse anyway?
The picture you see below is one of a kind … the only picture in all the photo albums of Yours Truly with a teddy bear. Oh, you’ll find lots of dollies through the years, but no teddy bears and nary a stuffed animal.
Look how much bigger the teddy bear was than little ol’ me. But then, I was only four pounds, 11 ounces (2.126 kg) when I was born and spent the first two weeks of my life in an incubator, healthy, just very tiny. Mom always joked that the special formula she fed me resulted in the 5’ 9” me in later years.
But soon after the above photo was taken, Mom told me that I had to see the pediatrician because I had allergy-like symptoms. The doctor did tests and determined I was allergic to stuffed animals. Dr. Hamlin said “they must go immediately!” Even the cute tiger pajama bag I posed with under the Christmas tree a few years later was not allowed to stay.
So imagine, a childhood without stuffed animals, or “stuffies” as people call them now. Well, I didn’t really know any difference as I’d never had them. There were dollies … the kind you cuddle, or paper cut-outs, then later my Barbie dolls. There are lots of photos in the albums of me clutching a baby doll.
Flash forward to 1986.
I remember the year, 1986, as it was sad due to the January death of my beloved maternal grandmother, Nanny. Mom and I were clothes shopping in the now-defunct Crowley’s Department Store. It was back-to-school time and, on a display table was a brown teddy bear wearing blue jeans and a plaid flannel shirt, (which you may recall from a recent post, was similar to MY favorite Fall garb). The bear’s name was “Boswell, the Teacher’s Pet” and my mom, on a whim, picked up that bear and said “Linda, I’m going to buy this cute bear for you – you never got to have teddy bears, or any stuffed animals when you were a kid, so this will make up it.”
Well, that started a trend.
Mom would likely later rue that purchase because it seemed wherever and whenever we went shopping, be it at a department store, Hallmark card store, or traveling, or even when Mom perused catalogs, I ended up the recipient of a new teddy bear.
Of course, having one or two bears was nice – they sat on the bed, then were put away at night when it was time to sleep, but soon bears of every size began to fill the tops of my dresser, chest and nightstand, until there came a time where I had no more room and new bears encroached into the TV room and eventually into Mom’s room.
But it was not only Mom who bought the teddy bears – friends started buying them as well. The daughter of one of Mom’s friends worked at Ganz, a stuffed animal factory in Toronto, so I routinely got a bear from her for birthdays and Christmas. Every time our neighbor Marge went on vacation, she brought me back a bear for taking care of her pets and getting the mail in her absence.
Admittedly, these are a lot of bears and over the years, I never thought to photograph them, although I did name them and dust them. Then, after connecting with a high school pal shortly after joining Facebook in 2009, we were catching up on news since graduation and somehow the topic of hobbies came up. She was sad as she was selling her collection of vintage dolls to a collector. She was going to photograph her collection before sending them off and offhandedly asked if I collected anything – “well yes, teddy bears, but I stopped doing so in 2006” was my reply.
She sent me photos of her vintage doll collection, then asked me to reciprocate as to my gang of bears. Well, I did so and you’ll see the photos in the slideshow below. But first, this is my first bear Boswell, who traded his comfy duds for a Red Wings “uniform” which I bought after the Wings won the Stanley Cup in 1997.
And here’s the rest of them in this slideshow.
Linda, the Arctophile.
Google tells me and I’m telling you that: a person who loves teddy bears is called an arctophile. The term comes from the Greek words arktos, meaning “bear”, and philos, meaning “loving or fond of”. The word became popular in the 1980s when interest in teddy bears increased.
“Really Linda – how old are you again?” I heard this often, but who can resist their sweet faces? But yes, I finally ended the parade of teddy bears with the two “Women of the Red Hat Society” which I bought myself.
Umm – dare I mention there was other “BEARaphernalia” too?!
Yes, my mother and others indulged my arctophile addiction, er … collection. This year I decided I would decorate for Christmas – the first time since 2008. While I was not going to put out all the decorations I once did, I decided I was going to put out a few of my bear collectibles which you’ll see below. I say “a few” as there are other bear decorations, not as easily accessible.
The first is a treasured Christmas tree Mom ordered from The Danbury Mint about 20 years ago. This ceramic tree has Boyds Bear characters from top to bottom and all around. It lights up and those tiny lights have to be replaced using tweezers. Here is the tree at some different angles.
Close-up of an exasperated Santa with a bear and her list of “wants”.
Front
Back
Around the tree are four of the Enesco Cherished Teddies Christmas collection, from 1995 – 1998, also from Mom.
1995 – Nickolas – “You’re at the Top of My List”
1996 – “Klaus – Bearer of Good Tidings”
1997 – “Kris – Up On the Rooftop”
1998 – “Santa – A Little Holiday R & R”
There were small wearables, like Christmas pins and other holiday pins and also this Boyds Bear tapestry jacket that Mom saw advertised in The Danbury Mint catalog with even more Boyds Bears and their Christmas decorating shenanigans. Mom ordered it, sent it to work and told me to bring it home and not to look inside the box when it arrived at work.
Last year my friend Nancy sent this fun pillow across the miles from Missouri because she knows I like teddy bears.
Christmas is a time for merriment, joy and a wee bit of whimsy too, right?
I’ll leave you with this quote and then a Christmas greeting from Jacquie Lawson:
“The world is divided into two nations: those with Teddy bears, those without. Each thinks the other is odd.” ~~Jenny DeVries
Hmm – who was celebrating and presented with a cake with all those candles?
Well, we know former President Jimmy Carter reached the century mark on October 1st, but no, it wasn’t him.
Nor was it Dick Van Dyke, who is now 99 and pushing 100. (Pardon me, but I thought he had passed away and I only learned he was alive because the national news reported he, his wife and pets evacuated their Malibu home because of the ongoing Franklin Fire – oops.)
It must’ve been someone special.
Well, thank you for BEARING with me as I teased this out a bit. Now I’ll share who turned the big 8-0 this year.
It was Smokey the Bear.
Smokey is all over social media and I’ve followed him since he was mentioned on the National Park Service site on Twitter/X, so a few of the photos that pepper this post are from his official X site. Here is Smokey asking for “likes” on X for his August 9th birthday.
Lest you think Smokey is just a cartoon-like figure who does PSAs, this national mascot for fire prevention WAS a real bear. The name “Smokey Bear” (minus the word “the”) originated from an orphaned bear cub with badly burned paws and hind legs which firefighters found in a charred tree during a raging New Mexico wildfire in the Spring of 1950. They feared the cub’s mother had died in the fire and a kindly rancher/member of the fire crew took the cub home to care for him. But a New Mexico Department of Game and Fish ranger ultimately sent the cub to Santa Fe to have the burns taken care of. Smokey Bear’s recovery and media coverage gave him instant celebrity status (yes, similar to “going viral” nowadays) and Smokey became a wildfire prevention mascot and living legend for the wildlife prevention campaign begun in 1944. If you would like to read more about the history of Smokey the Bear and see photos of the original Smokey and also Smokey II from the official Smokey Bear website, just click here.
Along the way, Smokey Bear became Smokey the Bear, but his official name was/is Smokey Bear.
To commemorate the big bruin’s birthday event, I participated virtually in the Smokey Bear 5K Run/Walk held on September 28, 2024 at Bass Lake, California. Proceeds from registration fees and donations benefited the local community, notably CAL FIRE and USFS Fire Prevention Programs. This was the 37th year of the event, but this was the first year it was opened to virtual participants to honor Smokey, so I was fired up, (pardon the pun), to participate.
My swag was a nice, long-sleeved tee-shirt and my bib number.
Here is a quick peek at the event. There was a professional photographer that took photos of every participant and posted them on his website, without any licensing restrictions, so people could have a free image as a memento of the event.
If you see or read the national news or follow social media, you are well aware of how many wildfires CAL FIRE firefighters/first responders battle each year in California. The ongoing Franklin Fire is a perfect example of the devastation to trees, wildlife and homes.
While you may think I only have an affinity for squirrels and birds, I also like bears, um … the stuffed, roly-poly kind with sweet smiles. In fact, my Christmas post next week will be all about teddy bears, but I digress.
Smokey Bear a/k/a Smokey the Bear.
I’ll bet you were introduced to Smokey the Bear when you were very young. And, chances are you learned about his campaign to end forest fires from TV and magazine ads. I remember a fireman or maybe our City’s fire marshal coming to my elementary school to impress us with stats about just how devastating a forest fire could be. He probably brought along a Smokey Bear stuffed animal to make a point.
You’ve probably heard Smokey Bear’s booming voice: “only YOU can prevent forest fires” so I was impressed by this factoid: in 2022, 87% of wildfires were caused by humans. I truly thought most of the wildfires had natural origins, like severe drought conditions or sparks from lightning, more than someone carelessly leaving a campfire unattended or still smoldering.
And, if you have never heard Smokey Bear’s wise words, you’ve surely seen some posters throughout the years. Like this early poster of Smokey dousing a fire.
I like this poster of Smokey surrounded by forest critters.
As of Thursday, 4,000 acres had burned and only 20 percent contained in the Franklin Fire in Malibu – this was a photo I saw from CAL FIRE on Twitter/X – pretty horrendous isn’t it?! (It is still only 28% contained as of Saturday evening.)
What venue did I choose for MY virtual 5K?
For all the other virtual 5Ks I participate in, I generally choose the same site as the actual race, just the day before/after. So, Bass Lake in California looks like a beautiful place for a Run/Walk event but much closer to home, I chose a waterfront venue too, lovely Elizabeth Park in Trenton for my walk.
Unlike most excursions to Elizabeth Park where I’m sure to find many Mallards or Canada Geese gathering along the Canal, there were very few waterfowl and the ducks I saw were snoozing away, head under one wing, likely the casualties of the tail end of their annual molt. As I strolled the Boardwalk along the Detroit River, I couldn’t even scare up a Ring-billed Seagull and even the rotund Groundhog who pops out of his burrow to beg for treats was MIA.
So I focused on “critterless” things as I strolled along the Boardwalk that day …
The Gordie Howe International Bridge and the blue sky marred by industrial smoke – ugh.
Not the most-comfy perch from which to fish, but hey … no one was crowding him.
A Phragmities reed growing along the shoreline inside a rock.
Wherever there is a railing, you will see graffiti – in this case etchings into the metal.
“Jessica M” is a recent entry on the railing.
More scribbles and scrawls along the railing.
Up close, the railing has imperfections; people pose for big events on this bridge.
The railing’s shadows make fun lines and circles.
I didn’t even see a squirrel, odd because this park is full of them, although they don’t beg like the squirrels at Council Point Park. But some kind soul is looking out for the squirrels at this venue by putting cocktail peanuts into this hidey hole in the tree.
I thought of Terri, who enjoys stand-up paddleboarding, when I saw these women.
In the blink of an eye, stand-up paddleboarder #1 was almost out of my sight.
Paddling down the middle of the Canal.
Who could ask for more … my favorite season, plus a perfect weather day, the kind I already miss as we just got out of the deep freeze – ugh.
I have always been envious of families that have holiday traditions, many which have been passed down through the years from generation to generation, but, for me, what few Christmas traditions once existed, just like family members, they have dwindled down to zero.
Experts say that we really have no recall of events before the ages of three or four years old and sometimes even no earlier than seven years old. This is because our brains and memory capabilities don’t mature until age seven.
But, what if we argue that we ARE able to recall those joyous events like sitting on Santa’s lap and whispering in his ear about all the gifts we want him to bring, or the joy of unwrapping that doll or train set on Christmas morning (see Santa DID listen)?
Those party pooper researchers suggest that instead, what we really remember, is merely the old photos in the family album or memories from stories recounted through the years by family members.
I DO remember waking up on Christmas morning, then, still in my PJs, creeping down to the foot of my bed where my Christmas stocking awaited me to tear into it. My parents told me on Christmas Eve that after Santa finished off the milk and cookies we left for him, he put the presents under the tree and left my stocking at the end of my bed for me to explore while Mommy and Daddy slept in on Christmas morning. (A subtle hint … yes, even then I “got” it.)
Happily, I drifted off to sleep dreaming of what Santa would bring and in the morning, as I investigated my booty of goodies, there were the inevitable squeals of joy, thus waking up Mommy and Daddy so we all ended up getting up at the crack of dawn. I DO remember the stocking, filled with books, small games, knitted clothes for my dollies, and the perpetual big orange in the toe since Mom said when she was young “oranges were dear and considered a treat.”
I don’t have pictures taken with any of my Christmas stockings, but I vividly recall images of Christmas morning in my room.
I’m happy that I spent Thanksgiving weekend 2017 digitizing all the family photo albums and scrapbooks. Now a trip down Memory Lane awaits me with just a few mouse clicks, which allows those memories to come back to life when I am retelling them here in my blog.
Terri’s Challenge this week, like last week, is the topic of “Traditions” and even though I’ve shared some of these Christmas memories through the years in this blog, I thought I’d do a collection of vignettes from past Christmases for today’s post.
Visiting the Jolly Old Elf.
The family album is chock full of photos of me, beginning with the day I came home from the hospital, a treasure trove of images from black-and-white to Kodachrome.
This is my first visit with Santa – I was eight months old.
Yes, I was way too young to whisper my list of “wants” into Ol’ Santa’s ear, so it looks like it was just a photo op that time.
It would be 29 years (1985) before I would have my picture taken with Santa Claus again. We made a surprise trip to my grandmother’s house for Christmas 1985 and on Christmas Eve a neighbor and his son, dressed like Santa and an elf, respectively, came to visit. I got kissed under the mistletoe and my grandmother (“Nanny”) posed with Santa.
Once I was old enough to make a list for Santa, I was given the Eaton’s Christmas catalog and told to pick out two items that I wanted. Yes, I was an only child – no, I was not spoiled. But only two items – really!? The game plan was one item would be bought by my parents; the other by my maternal grandparents. This was long before we had “sticky notes” and I know I studied that catalog and dog-eared the pages to winnow down my final two “wants” so Mom could help me write a letter to Santa.
Then, as Christmas neared, there was a trip to downtown Toronto to watch the Santa Claus Parade, then to see the holiday-inspired store windows with their animated displays in Eaton’s and Simpsons Department stores. We would have lunch, then I queued up with all the other kids at Eaton’s Toyland to visit Santa. I was eager to see the Jolly Old Elf to ensure he matched my face to the letter sent to him earlier.
Here I am waiting for Santa in his chair while he was on a break (hope he didn’t mind me taking liberties).
“O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree”
Over the years friends and/or coworkers and their families went to the tree farm to pick the perfect Christmas tree. Back in those days, they made a day of it, packing a lunch and thermoses of coffee and cocoa. They took along an axe or two and hauled their prize tree to the car and strapped it on top to head home. These fun family photos at the tree farm often became the annual Christmas card, long before posting a similar day’s event on social media.
Admittedly, it is difficult to have a tradition this fun when there are only three of you. Alas, our fir, pine or spruce tree was bought off a lot with not much fanfare. My parents decorated it and it remained bare beneath its branches until Santa’s arrival.
I recall how the scent of the tree filled the living room, but I also remember Mom complaining about the needles everywhere, or Dad grousing about filling the tree stand nightly. By Boxing Day, the tree, still with its clinging tinsel pieces was out at the end of the driveway for garbage pickup.
Baubles and baby dolls.
In the years that we had real trees, they seemed to grow bigger, just like me.
Back in the day, nothing was more fun than posing with your favorite new toy by the tree. This rocking horse was from my grandparents – it matched my bedroom suite, which I remember was gray with black speckles.
There was always a new doll to cuddle and coo over …
… and even a xylophone appeared under the tree one year. I’m sure my parents tired of hearing that noise pretty quickly. I DO remember this turquoise velvet dress in the above and below shots; my parents never used colored film until the mid-60s.
Soon those baby dolls became Barbie dolls and the “real deal” trees were no longer a mainstay of our holiday traditions.
My parents, although never enamored by current trends, bought an aluminum tree which was all the rage in the early 1960s. The popular look was rather stark … unicolor bulbs with a floodlight in the same color trained on the tree. Most trees sported green, red or blue bulb/light combos. There was nothing “Christmassy” nor traditional about aluminum trees.
This photo of Peppy and me was taken at Christmas 1965, the year before we moved to the States.
We gave the tree away before moving here and green artificial trees or ceramic trees became the norm after that.
Going to Grandma’s house.
It was the tradition, before we moved to the States, to go to my grandmother’s house for Christmas dinner. Nanny did not like cooking or baking, so my grandfather made all the meals. Most of the time we had ham.
Mmm good – Christmas goodies.
I could write endless paragraphs about Christmas cookies and treats through the years. I have already written a post before about Mom’s annual cookie-baking marathon; it is here.
Even though we were a small family, Mom started several weeks before Christmas with her holiday baking. The three of us each got two picks of favorite holiday goodies, plus Mom always baked more-traditional cookie must-haves like Scottish shortbread breakers and dainty shortbread butter cookies with a maraschino cherry on top. Mom baked mini tartlets filled with Damson Plum, Mincemeat and there were always family favorites, the Canadian-style butter tarts. The jars of None Such Mincemeat were infused with rum in mid-Summer and put into the fridge with a ratio of half-mincemeat filling and half rum. They were pretty potent by the time it was tart-making time. Just a whiff of the mincemeat tarts and you felt like you would keel over. Mom didn’t drink, but she sure did enjoy those tarts. 🙂
Mom’s motto about me was “once the baby of the household, always the baby” … so she always made candy cane cookies, beginning in kindergarten for my school chums until I was an adult. These cookies were a labor of love, braiding red dough and white dough and for which I heard for years that “my big mixing bowl is stained red from the red dye from YOUR candy cane cookies.” I finally bought her a new, large mixing bowl because of hearing that and handed it to her. Mom turned to me and said “I was kidding for goodness sake Linda!” That old mixing bowl exists, as does the big red stain.
For three weeks I’d come home from school (and later from work) and once changed from my work clothes, I looked forward to my plate of misfit cookies, i.e. the broken or misshapen ones. Such a deal! When I was older I told my mom that even if the cookies had no imperfections, it was her parental duty to break at least one or two from each batch just for me. Mom’s mission was to eat up the tart misfits and she was happy to do so.
After all the Christmas baking was done, Mom would put cookies on holiday paper plates and wrap them up with a note on top and when I got home I was the delivery girl – a plate to each of our elderly neighbors and also to the gas station owner who pumped our gas, cleaned the windshield and checked the oil (yes, long before self-serve). My father had friends at work, as did I, so cookies were piled on plates and taken in. The rest were for us – still plenty.
Many years later, my good friend Ann Marie is my treat angel, coming over to visit me every holiday, not just Christmas, bearing treats and always gifts. These were candy cane cookies from a few years ago, just the same as Mom made me for so many years.
We had another Christmas goodie tradition, a snack called “Nuts and Bolts” which was a variation of what most folks call “Chex Mix”. Mom made that mix up, a batch with a garlic seasoning for my father and another batch for Mom and me with just mild seasonings. We munched on “Nuts and Bolts” while watching Christmas specials. For many years, there was just one TV and I knew all about crooners like Perry Como and Andy Williams, everyone wearing ski sweaters with fake snow twinkling down in the background.
Holiday specials and music just for kiddos.
I’ve written before about the annual Christmas specials for kids and how I loved them.
My favorites were “Frosty the Snowman”, “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” and “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” … I knew the words by heart. I was too young for “A Charlie Brown Christmas” or for any of the Peanuts character specials. As a kid, when those holiday specials were on, it was the only time, except Halloween, if it fell on a weeknight, that we did not sit down to a home-cooked meal. We had something quick, maybe a Swanson’s TV dinner, so dinner was over quickly, I could be done with homework and ready to watch those holiday shows. Here I am sitting next to the old TV set.
When I got older and we got a VCR, I taped those shows and still watched them faithfully every year.
Mom even bought me the boxed set which I still have.
Along with the kiddies’ Christmas specials I watched as a youngster, I had a collection of the vinyl 45s of those shows, like a red record for “Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer”, a light blue one for “Frosty the Snowman”, a bright green one for “Jingle Bells” and a yellow one for “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus”. I wasn’t old enough to have my own record player, so Mom played them during the holiday season on their record player.
Deck the Halls.
Once upon a time, I spent the day after Thanksgiving decorating the entire house. Even though it is a small house, it took all day to put out the holiday knickknacks, baubles, bells, bows and get multiple trees up. We amassed a lot of country Christmas décor as we often went to craft shows. It’s a small house, so all the year-round knickknacks had to be tucked away in a safe place while the seasonal decorations were out. On New Year’s Day, it took another entire day to put everything away. I’m sorry to say I have not put up any Christmas decorations since 2008. I am putting up one tree this year and will be writing about it and maybe there will be more decorations next year.
From the time I was very young until I was an adult, I have embraced the holiday season, wearing Christmas-inspired jewelry and clothing to work. I decorated my office and brought in candy for every holiday and my mom and I made bags of holiday seasonal treats for all the staff members, usually cookies. Sometimes we bought the tall Voortman’s gingerbread men and bagged them up with a Christmas message or poem and I put them on their desks to be there when they arrived.
In forging new traditions, one year I bought two Lenox Winter Greetings mugs – Mom loved anything with cardinals. But, after washing them she said “they’re too pretty to use; they’ll get tea and coffee stains on them and I can’t put bleach in them.” So, we never used them. Every Christmas season I open the cupboard door over the fridge and look up at them, but alas, some things are better left as is and memories not stirred up.
I think back on those holiday traditions – fun on many levels, some simple holiday rituals or niceties, extending the love to those we cared about. But now, all of those people, just like those traditions, are long gone. I know one day I will have drained the memory well … in this forum anyway. The memories will continue to play in my mind and the images will remain physically stored on a flash drive. In a couple of weeks, I plan to dredge up another dear-to-me memory and will share it on the 22nd.
Terri’s Challenge this week continues the topic of “Traditions” but she had no planned post this week for me to share with you.
Linda Schaub
WALKIN', WRITIN', WIT & WHIMSY 