WALKIN', WRITIN', WIT & WHIMSY

It was another downright cold September morn, and I tweaked the heat to nudge it up a little higher to take the chill out of the house. That was for my canary Buddy, even though he was bundled up nicely in the room where he sleeps. But, I confess I enjoyed that rush of warmth circulating as it enveloped the house, making it feel nice and cozy.

It was only 48 degrees when I headed out the door in my same garb as yesterday, but after a minute, I dashed back inside to grab a cardigan. While buttoning it up, I thought of my mom who often dispensed such pearls of wisdom like “always take a cardigan with you because it’s easier to take it off than wish you had brought one along” … yup, she had a point, but I figured that by the time I returned home from my walk, that cardigan would either be carried or slung around my shoulders.

I walked along thinking about all those pearls of wisdom I received through the years, and I guess my grandmother passed them along to my mom originally.

So, that line of reasoning, of course, got me thinking of my grandmother, Minnie Goddard, for the second time today – the first was because the radio announcer reminded the listeners that today was National Grandparents Day.

When this “Hallmark holiday” first began, I remember sending my grandmother, whom I called “Nanny”, a card for the occasion. At that time, I didn’t know that Grandparents Day wasn’t celebrated in Canada. When we spoke on the phone the next time, she thanked me for the card, but was perplexed a bit why I sent it. “Just because” was my answer. The next time we went over to visit her at her house in Toronto, the card was still standing up on the top of her fridge. She said all the neighbors wanted to know what Grandparents Day was and I would need to tell them all about it.

I missed the best years of Nanny’s life, when she was vibrant and full of energy, because my parents were thirty years old when I was born, and she was already over 50. Then, because our houses were “GU”, a/k/a “geographically undesirable”, when we lived in the suburbs, in Oakville, I only saw her about once a month on a Saturday or Sunday. Then, when I was ten, we moved to the States and only travelled to Toronto to visit her about three or four times a year.

I recall she worked very hard, and many hours, standing on her feet all day except for break times. So, she was pretty tuckered out by week’s end.

When she and my grandfather were raising their kids, they worked different shifts at big factories in the City. My grandfather worked for a company that made rubber boots and my grandmother worked at Rowntree’s and also at Planters Peanuts. I remember my mom saying that Nanny’s work clothes at both factories were a simple dark uniform, covered by an apron with huge pockets. At Rowntree’s, a candy factory, the employees got to keep all the misfit candy that they sorted off the conveyor belt. This included chocolate with uneven drips, misshapen Mackintosh toffees, the broken or chipped lighter-than-air Aero bars and more Smarties than one could ever imagine. Smarties were the equivalent of plain M&Ms. My mom said she used to play tiddlywinks with them when she was a kid. While working at Planters, my grandmother’s apron would reek of peanut oil and salt trails would be evident where the seams would split from pockets filled to the brim with less-than-perfect peanuts, because, as you may suspect … Mr. Peanut has always been rather persnickety about his wares.

In later years, she worked in food prep at a large cafeteria downtown. She’d be on her feet from 7:00 a.m. until mid-afternoon, then she’d traipse over to grab a streetcar to come home. She’d plop down on the seat, and nearly every night she’d nod off, miss her stop and sometimes ride back downtown again.

She waited much too late to retire, because by then she was plagued by heart problems which slowed her down to a crawl. Though she had earned the right to sleep in, she never did, blaming her early rising on years of getting up at the crack of dawn for work. She was content to watch her “soaps” on television every afternoon, often nodding off and missing half of the episodes. One of her favorite gifts I ever got her was a subscription to “Soap Opera Digest”, a weekly magazine which recapped all her favorite shows and the important portions missed while snoozing.

Nanny has been gone nearly thirty years now. On Grandparents Day, or her birthday, I like to think of the pleasant or light-hearted memories I have, like sitting in the living room together watching “rasslin’” which was broadcast from Maple Leaf Gardens with such greats as Buddy Rogers, Bruno Sammartino and The Sheik, or holding her hand while walking up the steep hill from her house to St. Helen’s Church on Sunday mornings. I’ve written before about how she loved her garden and we would go out back and she’d whack off a piece of rhubarb and come in and wash it and pour some sugar for me to dip the stalk, still warm from the sun, which made for a tangy treat.

The photo above was taken in June 1978 when I received my BA in Mass Communications from Wayne State University.  Just for kicks, my grandmother donned my graduation gown and mortarboard and clasped her honorary “degree”, a rolled-up sheet of paper.

Perhaps you recall the Oscar acceptance speech by actor J.K. Simmons, who hails from Grosse Pointe, Michigan. He thanked his family and dispensed some wisdom … a tribute to his own parents.

He said:

“Call your mom. Call your dad, if you are lucky enough to have a parent or two alive on this planet. Don’t text. Don’t e-mail. Call ’em on the phone. Tell them you love them, and thank them, and listen to them for as long as they want to talk to you.”

Well, that’s sage advice J.K. Simmons, and it’s a stellar suggestion if you have grandparents too. In fact I suggested nearly the same sentiment in the last paragraph of my post for Grandparents Day 2013 entitled “Roots” … https://lindaschaubblog.net/2013/09/08/roots/

Reach out.

Do it today.

Do it right after you finish reading this post.

Just do it.

I know I wish that I could.

… and footballish.

Well, today is a football Saturday and we have the first home games for our primo Michigan college teams. Unlike the away games last week, the weather no longer feels tropical. In fact, it was a nifty-fifty degrees when I left on my walk this morning. Brrrrr.

While getting ready to go, I pulled on a long-sleeved Cement Masons Union tee-shirt, rewarded to my boss and I by our adversary on the day the contract was signed after many long bargaining sessions. Admittedly, the XL size was roomy, and the sleeves were a little long, even for me, so, while I walked, I tucked my hands up inside those longish sleeves to keep them warm.

Yes, it is only September 12^th and Autumn doesn’t arrive until the 23^rd of the month.

Actually, I’m lovin’ this weather. Autumn is my favorite time of year, even if it is the harbinger of the cold, snowy and icy days that lay ahead.

I decided to walk to the grocery store this morning. I needed just a handful of items, so I made Meijer my destination today.

It sure was windy and my brain got a good airing out as I made the journey. The gusty breeze not only caused alot more leaves to flutter to the ground, but there were acorns aplenty dropping down as well. The squirrels were darting to and fro grabbing them up, but then they’d see me getting near and get scared, and not look both ways before dashing into the street. I saw three near-casualties, but the drivers were kind and yielded for our furry friends. Whew! This bleeding heart would have had to look the other way.

Since my last visit to Meijer, I noticed that the store has relegated the back-to-school supplies to one small area, and they have hauled out their harvest and Halloween décor. Surprisingly, the nursery still has a few hanging baskets of annuals for sale. I guess (and hope) that they would be going for a song. Rows and rows of jewel-toned mums sit on wooden slats in the nursery area, and they beckon you to stop and buy a few to grace the front of your home.

I got in five miles for the round trip, and that included ambling around the perimeter of the store a few times. I paused at the fresh donuts, thinking how wonderful they’d taste with the cider I had in the fridge at home, but, before my willpower failed me, I stopped short of putting them in my cart by bypassing the bakery department entirely the next time around.

While walking home, the sun felt warmish on my face – it felt good. It was a gentle warmth; not that searing heat and intense humidity like earlier in the week.

The sound of some large maple leaves dancing along the sidewalk as I walked tells me it won’t be long now ‘til we add leaf-raking to our list of outside chores. That seems unbelievable to me, since I still have a few bright-yellow dandelions flourishing in my lawn. I wish they looked more like legitimate plants, such as those towering sunflowers I saw peeking over a few fence tops along my route today.

I hear that perhaps warmer temps will be back by next weekend. Oh Summer … do stay and set a spell, okay?

The early morning weather turned out to be a bonus, because yesterday all the weather folks predicted rain at a.m. drive time. That forecast caused me to languish under the covers a little longer after the alarm went off, as I figured I’d be hunkering down in the house instead of strolling in the streets.

I finally made it to the kitchen and peeked out the window – the sun was up and shining brightly!

Well, I put myself into gear and decided to skip breakfast ‘til I returned. I hustled out of the house in record time to get my walk in before the rain eventually arrived. My timing was impeccable – within an hour of my return, it started to come down in buckets.

Things have been slower at work this week, so I’ve sacrificed a few walks and devoted my time to getting some errands done in the car. One such errand was the annual oil change where the techs always laugh at my car’s low mileage. This past year I drove a mere 299 miles since the last oil change in September 2014, so they quipped “you’re really a Sunday driver aren’t you?” “Um … yes, I guess you could say that” is all I could say with a big smile on my face.

On this morning’s walk, I noticed the difference in the sun’s position, just since my last stroll toward the River. Yup, it is rising later and all of a sudden the sun seems to be setting earlier and earlier – those leaps and bounds in the sun’s position really make me sad as it signals our slow journey toward Winter.

As I strolled along, I thought about the significance of this day, and, like many others, recall my own morning fourteen years ago today. It is a sad event we will never forget.

When I returned home after my walk, I put my headphones on to catch up on the news of the day while I made and ate breakfast. As usual, the many memorial services take precedence in the newscast on this date. It was sad to hear the annual roll call of the people who lost their lives on September 11^th, especially when that long list was accompanied by the melancholy strains of “Taps” playing in the background. Though we’ve come so far since that day, the service and those sounds can conjure up the images and take us back to September 11, 2001 in a heartbeat.

Time takes away the edge of grief; memory turns back every leaf.

Gone from our lives one so dear; in our hearts forever near.

~ Anonymous

Image and copyright by Rodney Campbell:

https://www.flickr.com/photos/acrylicartist/6162565643

There must be a hundred songs or more celebrating Summer. But, once the sun sets on Labor Day, the unofficial end of Summer, there is no mistaking the harsh reality that the season has ended, even though Autumn is a few weeks away.

Yes, Labor Day is Summer’s swan song as the Summer of 2015 goes into the books.

There’s a melancholy feeling once the campfire has been snuffed out and the last ooey-gooey marshmallow, chocolate and graham crackers licked from your fingertips. Even the bottle of fireflies you gathered look rather lackluster in your own backyard. Unless your cottage is winterized, there will be one more trip up North to see the Fall colors and close up the cottage until Memorial Day.

Today dawned just as hot and humid as a mid-Summer day, which left everyone wishing there was a way to extend the holiday just a little more. The convoy of cars was endless … people who trekked Up North for a few days’ respite, now had to face the music traffic-wise as they returned home. The traffic jam continued well into Sunday night. I’m sure there were a few stragglers today as well as folks around these parts who just decided to play hooky and enjoy one more day in the fun and sun.

Those long-awaited three-day weekends pass by way too quickly, don’t they?

I chose this picture entitled “Swan” by photographer Rodney Campbell to accompany this post. Of this photo, Rodney says “a swan takes a look at me” … I agree with you Rodney. Or perhaps that swan is looking back on Summer. Did it speed by for you? We all know it certainly took its sweet time getting here!

The school busses were rolling once again, and while walking along Fort Street this morning, I was dodging groups of teenagers with their heads bent and thumbs working furiously as they busied themselves with text messages. Back when I was their age, I was happy to catch up on everyone’s Summer doin’s walking to school on the first day of class, but what a different world it is today. Now kids are in touch constantly through social media, so they are in the loop about everyone before Day One.

Today was garbage day, and on my journey I saw the usual post-Labor Day suspects … those lifeless and now-dilapidated pool toys peeking from beneath garbage can lids, and, of course there were brightly colored garden hoses snaking out to the street, draining the water from above-ground pools.

But, chin up – there are many warm and sunny days to enjoy before the Winter arrives. Look on the bright side – only 264 more days ‘til Memorial Day, the gateway to Summer.

Every sunset brings the promise of a new dawn. -Ralph Waldo Emerson

This miserable heat wave persists, but mercifully, more seasonable temps will return in a few days.

Well, hurrah for that news.

I was a little conflicted this morning. While I prefer to walk when it is cooler outside, on Sundays or holidays it is always somewhat deserted in the neighborhood, so I opted to hang out in the cool house a little longer and I set out later on my walk.

Once on my journey though, within a matter of minutes I regretted that decision, and ended up just putting in three miles, then taking a load off my feet for the rest of today.

I think you are supposed to relax on Labor Day anyway, aren’t you?

Soon enough, the sun will rise later, so early a.m. walks will no longer be the norm. I’ve been walking five miles if I have the time, or it is the weekend, but most days it is just four miles. I don’t race walk, but just stroll at a moderate pace and five miles takes me about 90 minutes; four miles 65 minutes. I thought that was about average … that is, until today. I heard Governor Snyder talking about his ability to do a five-mile jaunt in a hair under one hour. Oh. Well, that burst my bubble for sure.

The occasion to discuss the Guv’s walking stats was because the 58^th Annual Labor Day Mackinac Bridge Walk commenced at 7:00 a.m. For my out-of-town followers, some info and pictures of the event may be found here: http://www.mackinacbridge.org/annual-bridge-walk-7/

Traditionally, the Governor always leads the pack, usually about 40,000 walkers. This morning there were only 30,000 because of a light drizzle when the walk began. When interviewed this morning on both local radio stations, Governor Snyder said he regularly walks to keep fit so he was hoping to keep his pace to finish in about one hour.

Well, that makes me think I need to pick up the pace a tad.

But, up ‘til now, that snail’s pace has served me well. I guess when it cools down a little, I’ll start walking faster or taking bigger steps … maybe I can surpass the good Guv’s walking stats by this time next year. In fact, maybe I’ll make those stats my goal for next Labor Day, which will also mark five years of my walking regimen.

I am reminded, however, about some advice the local health expert, Dr. Frank McGeorge, gave on “Live in the D” recently. He said “you gotta sweat to have a good workout; you cannot just glow and glisten.”

Okay, doc … gotcha! So, I’ll pick up the pace to get more miles done in less time, get that heart pumping and I’ll sweat a little to ensure I’m getting a good workout, even though everyone knows that ladies aren’t supposed to sweat … just perspire and glisten.

On this Labor Day, whether you’re sweatin’ over the grill flipping burgers, or sweatin’ to the oldies to keep fit, remember the hard workers who have toiled through the years to make this country better from their labor. Happy Labor Day! I leave you with this quote:

Hard work is rewarding beyond gold. Sweating is living. ~Terri Guillemets

At least once a year, I meander over to the Lincoln Park Farmer’s Market to check out their wares. All the local farmers converge every Sunday from 11:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m., bringing with them a wealth of freshly picked fruits and veggies, homemade jellies and jams, as well as baked goods galore. Additionally, there are the local artisans who set up tables to sell their crafts.

The marketplace was not as large or crowded as in the past, probably due to the holiday weekend. I wanted to stop by and check it out, and maybe I’ll return, camera in hand, once all those groovy-looking gourds and great pumpkins land there later in the month.

I arrived shortly after they opened, a little tuckered out from my second of two Sunday strolls.

Earlier, I trekked over to the border of Lincoln Park and Wyandotte and paused on the bridge to watch some Canada Geese lazily gliding single file down the center of the Creek. The group was too far away to get a close-up shot, and it was way too sunny to just point and shoot and hope for the best. It didn’t matter because they paid no attention to me and soon they disappeared around the bend of the winding creek. I headed for home soon thereafter, sorry that I had left the house so late because by then it seemed to be getting hotter by the minute.

I went home and enjoyed the cool air and my tall glass of strawberry milk that revitalized me and I was soon ready to go again.

But … it was hot, hot, hot there in the parking lot, even though the majority of the vendors had umbrellas or canopies to protect them and their goodies from the searing sun, and, what shady areas there were to duck from the sun, did not allow for many good photo ops of the colorful bountiful harvest toted in by the trucks and trailers.

I would frequent the market more often, especially at the tail end of the Summer, when the produce is at its finest, except the vendors don’t like you picking up the produce to squeeze or thump it … that’s a no-no. Sometimes I feel like I might get my hand swatted or be chastised for such improprieties, just like the commercial of the bespectacled shopkeeper, Mr. Whipple, who admonishes the customers to “please don’t squeeze the Charmin.

I did eye a box of green beans, just like the ones pictured above. But not for any particular reason, except they reminded me of my mom who would clamor for some every time we went to an open air farm market or a drive in the county around this time of year. Not only did she love a large beefsteak tomato sliced onto a crispy piece of toast, or she would make a meal of new potatoes that were boiled up then drizzled with butter pats, but she liked to make stew with lots of green beans. Now, stew was not my personal favorite as dishes go. My mom would send me for green snap beans to put in the stew. She’d warn me not to return with mangled-looking or raggedy-looking beans that would spoil the stew. I’d counter that “I’m not going to inspect each bean I drop in the bag”, a statement that usually garnered a grimace or two on her part.

I took a complete tour of the market, and I passed on the beans, and any other produce, though I’d tucked some money and a few plastic bags in my pack before I left the house.

“Cool as a cuke” would not be the description for me for either of the two walks I took on this hot and steamy day. Though I added four miles to my total, I’ve never “bean” happier to get home and take it easy.

It’s another sizzling day, with soaring humidity, thanks to all the back-to-back storms over the last 24 hours. The people who are headed to the beach, or up north to their cottages, are rejoicing about the heat and humidity – the rest of us, not so much. At least me, anyway.

While walking this morning, there were few vehicles as I trudged down Emmons Boulevard, so I suspect the pilgrimage to the north country began last night.

I had a few outdoor projects planned for over the long holiday, but, with the threat of heat, humidity and pop-up storms every day, those projects will be tabled. Oh well … there’s lots of time to catch up before the snow falls. I hope so anyway.

Unfortunately, I have a list of indoor chores that need my attention – perhaps it would be good if it rained and I stayed indoors and skipped the walks. Definitely, I could check off those items!

For years Labor Day was a time to hunker down and stay indoors and begin the Fall cleaning. I took a few extra vacation days and my mom and I would work hard to get the rooms up to snuff. It seems to me that each long holiday I always had “the list”, a not-so-fun list of chores or items to be accomplished over the time off. My mom would compile that list and slowly the items would get checked off. But usually, by the time I returned to work after my “time off” the listed items on the agenda might have gotten accomplished, but I felt rather listless myself from expending all that energy on housework and cleaning. My mom and I didn’t always see eye-to-eye on housework.   I now have my “to-do” lists in my head and it seems they are rather loosey-goosey, but I try not to beat myself up over getting everything done anymore.

I know this mindset began at Labor Day 2011 when I began my walking regimen.

The Greek philosopher Aristotle said “the end of labor is to gain leisure” … I like his thinking.

I hope you have a safe and happy “toes-up” holiday.

On a sweltering hot day, interrupted by round one of what will be two rounds of volatile weather, we welcome in the college football season … U of M kicks off tonight and MSU tomorrow night.

But, it hardly feels like weather to be throwing around a pigskin.

Football is meant to be enjoyed in cozy sweats or swaddled by a stadium blanket, with numb hands curled around a hot drink – not the likes of what temps were out there today.

As Summer wanes (on the calendar anyway), I noticed in my trek this morning that the garden flags festooned with flowers or Summery sayings have been replaced with flags bearing Wolverine or Spartan logos. Even the mischievous (and sometimes evil-looking) garden gnomes are proudly wearing their favorite resin team gear.

I may have hit the ground running early, but the end of my journey today had me dragging my wagon a bit. Though my pedometer registered exactly four miles, it felt like I had logged in twice that amount.

Nevertheless … I’m happy with my result because I gave it the ol’ college try.

It was another sultry morning when I left for my walk, and the atmosphere was just oppressive at 75 degrees and 90% humidity. As I headed east toward the River, I felt a wee bit of a breeze, but when I turned around to come home, the hot sun made me feel as if I should melt into a pool like the Wicked Witch of the West. All that would remain on the sidewalk would be my heavy walking shoes and socks, lanyard and fanny pack. People would remark “I know her when ….”

The canopy of trees along Emmons Boulevard make it very shady to walk when it is so hot out, even though the leaves are falling rapidly now, just like it was a Fall day. The lawns and sidewalks are littered with colorful and crumpled leaves. I heard WJR’s Garden Doctor tell us that the trees are stressed due to the erratic temperatures the last three calendar years. Stressed trees? Hmmm. Well, trees … just join the crowd.

Speaking of trees, every time I stroll down Emmons Boulevard I pass the treehouse that I have written about several times before. I’ve yet to see kids playing outside on the treehouse porch, but it is always early when I pass by. I had to smile when I saw the newest addition … a wicker picnic hamper on a wide rope which must be used to transport lunch from the ground to the treehouse. Those kids have got it “made in the shade” as that rather dated expression goes. I can remember my parents using it to describe lucky people who had it all. I know alot of love and effort went into that treehouse, which, in a very few days will be relegated to weekend and occasional after-school visits only.

Meanwhile my refuge is straying to the shady side of the street, where the trees aren’t stressed, until this heatwave abates.

September has arrived.

When I listened to the tropical-sounding weather forecast before I left for my walk, I swear I thought it was August 1^st and not the first day of September. I think Mother Nature flipped her calendar page backward instead of forward.

When I left the house it was still misty from the overnight fog. The sky was hazy and the sun was trying its best to peek through the clouds, and, if ol’ Sol had been successful, it would have been even steamier and more uncomfortable.

As I passed Ford Park, out of the corner of my eye, I could see mist rising from the baseball field, and dancing along the grounds, and, I must admit it looked a little eerie. Likewise, when I walked down Emmons Boulevard toward the marina, the sky and water just blended in together.

I didn’t take along my camera today because it was so murky-looking, and why subject it to the humid air if there would be no pictures to take?

But, I was wrong.

About the photo ops, that is.

As I headed toward the River, I passed the white stockade fence where I took the peephole picture of the Creek last month. As I neared that fence, my eyes honed in on two very large dragonflies that had alighted side-by-side on the fence. Occasionally I’ve seen a dragonfly flitting around the garden, but, I’ve never seen one up close, let alone two of them. I stood there a few minutes just admiring that posed pair, their delicate gossamer wings twitching ever so slightly, all the while kicking myself for leaving the camera behind.

On the return trip down the Boulevard, I saw my first Halloween decorations adorning a homeowner’s windows and doors. The spooky-looking bunch were the usual cast of characters, complete with evil smirks or sinister-looking grins, but … it was the devils who made me do it … write about them in this post.

From the delightful dragonflies to the macabre Halloween meanies … it was all part of the sightseeing trip on this early September morn.