WALKIN', WRITIN', WIT & WHIMSY

Like you, I’ve been following the horror stories of the historical snow event in Buffalo … and, it is still snowing. The first decade of my life was spent in Ontario in Canada’s snow belt – our weather mirrored that of Buffalo, with never-ending snow most of the Winter. We lived right on the bend of a cul de sac and some black-and-white pictures in the old family album will attest to those mountains of snow. There was my father’s VW bug parked in the driveway, looking like an igloo, awaiting dusting off – no, make that shoveling off, so he could make his long commute to work in Toronto. I don’t really remember there being snow days for work, or for school either, but I do recall layers upon layers of clothes to go out and play in the Winter time. That’s probably the reason I’m no snow bunny and dislike the snow so much now. I guess we have it easy here in Michigan, though, from the sound of this morning’s traffic and weather reports it didn’t sound so great outside here either. Leaves still litter the lawns in our neighborhood. No one wanted to rake in the blustery weather last weekend, and, after all, we had until Thanksgiving week to get our yard waste hauled to the curb for the season. The leave-raking expectations don’t look too rosy this weekend, especially if it rains or we have freezing rain. Nothing like trying to rake glazed leaves. My handyman was supposed to come clean the gutters yesterday but phoned to say that job would require a pick axe so he has to defer the visit ‘til it warms up a tad. I follow “The Farmer’s Almanac” on Facebook and their weather folklore prediction is “if on the trees the leaves still hold, the coming Winter will be cold” … what joy! And, as to outside chores … for years it was great to wrap them up and put a bow on them before Thanksgiving and have a few weeks to relax before the snow shoveling drudgery began. At least I wrapped up the outside faucet last weekend, amid some grumbling, frozen fingers and though it is on there a little cockeyed, I think it will do the trick to get through this interminable Fall-Winter weather. So, chin up everyone. This quote by Lilly Pulitzer says it best: “Despite the forecast, live like it’s Spring” … so there!

Here is a warm fuzzy for this cold, Winter-like evening. Tonight, in the snowy Rochester, New York area, an 8-year-old girl is snuggling up with a fuzzy little Tuxedo kitten courtesy of my friend Carol.

My high school friend, Carol, now lives in Honeoye Falls, New York. The edge of her backyard is a large wooded area where deer often appear in the morning looking for food. Carol caters to the wild birds by feeding them and providing a birdbath as well, plus she fosters many feral cats all year around. One Mama cat ensures each new litter of kittens stays on the deck where they can partake in unlimited kitten chow and fresh water. Like she does each Fall, long before the snow and brutal weather arrived, Carol placed her heavy shelters on the deck for Mama and her little ones to live. The shelters are lined with heated warming pads, and food and water is placed in heated dishes nearby. When Carol is satisfied her charges are warm and fed, she goes inside the house to tend to her own three cats: Smudge, Harley June and Dudley.

The neighbors all know that any cat or kitten on the loose must be one of Carol’s feral gang, so often they just drop ‘em off. Sometimes she will come out on her deck in the morning to find a new face … still another mouth to feed.

On Devil’s Night there was loud knocking on Carol’s front door and she answered to find a neighbor with a tiny Tuxedo kitten in the palm of his hand. “Here” he said as he handed it over … “I found it on my porch and I don’t know what to do with it” and then he turned and left. Well, Carol shut the door and set to work on this tiny kitten. It was weak and not very responsive. She wanted to keep it segregated from her own cats, who are not allowed outside except in their kennels or on their harnesses. She wrapped the wee one in a blanket, then pushed two old cat carriers together for a makeshift kennel and put a donut bed inside with a few layers of fleecy blankets. Next, she filled a small baby bottle with canned milk. Cradling her charge, she got the kitten to finish most of the bottle, and it fell asleep in her arms. She placed it in the carrier and shut the light, saying a prayer it would last the night, then wrote about this event on Facebook.

The next morning Carol unzipped the mesh opening to the carrier and out bounced the kitten. She played and cuddled with it and then gave it a bottle and a toy and posted the good news on Facebook.

Within a few days, the kitten was 100% healthy and very energetic and playful. We all were regaled by its antics and Carol posted the above picture to show off the cute little boy and asked for names for him. We all applauded her efforts, contributed a name or two and suggested Carol might as well welcome him to the family. She responded with a resounding “no way” and reinforced that statement by calling the nearby Lollypop Farm Humane Society to advise she was fostering a healthy kitty named Dewey that was soon ready to be adopted.

Carol took Dewey yesterday for his first shots and tonight he went to his furever home … Carol packed up the whole kit and caboodle, which included all of Dewey’s possessions he amassed in 2 ½ weeks: a donut bed, a scratching post, a leash and harness, his favorite kitten chow, and … oh yes, all the toys he liked to play with during his stay at Carol’s. Lots of love went out to this lucky little guy.

Little Dewey’s life was spared a few weeks ago thanks to one kindly nurturing soul named Carol McCrellias and now his good fortune will continue with a little girl who will cuddle him and call him her very own.

You cannot do a kindness too soon, for you never know how soon it will be too late.
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

… and I did, in fact, walk those miles and sleep in this morning – a little later anyway. I’ve been running myself ragged the last few weeks, both trying to get errands done before the bitter cold and snow settle in, and all the while attempting to get to my 500-mile walking goal and I have done it. Yippee! I realize I could have paced myself a bit slower, but with the advent of snow and all this cold weather, I could just picture the walking scenario ending up the same as the tail end of 2013 … just scrambling around and walking loops at Memorial Park to get ‘er done. Looking back at my November 2013 blog posts, I note last year’s weather has mirrored this November’s blustery, cold weather. Only too well I remember the slick and snowy conditions that kept me housebound over Thanksgiving weekend, a weekend which I fully intended to finalize last year’s walking miles goal. So, this past week I pushed myself and walked a total of 28 miles since last Sunday. I am happy to say I now stand at 501 miles for the year 2014. If the weather turns ugly and the walking becomes more sporadic, I have at least surpassed my 2013 mileage amount. I’ll post my total miles at year end – I hope to get some more walking in, weather permitting. I’m still ahead of my car mileage for 2014 – double the walking miles in fact; I only drove 247 miles in the car so far this year. Here is another picture from our excursion to Elizabeth Park yesterday – the Canada Geese grazing with the picturesque bridge in the background.

The hunters are in their glory as firearms deer season began at the crack of dawn today. With all that snow in Northern Michigan making it easy to track poor Bambi, the hunters will have no problem taking out their prey. Bucks: better watch your backs! I thought of those poor deer as my friend Marge and I drove along West Jefferson in Trenton past a rural area where the deer hang out, but were conspicuously absent today. We trekked out to Trenton to The Lighthouse, a large lamp and light store. We visited with Angus, the Springer Spaniel store mascot, who greets everyone at the door with a smile … er, wagging tail. After the sniff test, if you pass muster with him, Angus promptly heads back to his perch, a large counter next to the cash register.

From The Lighthouse, we went to Elizabeth Park for an extended trip around the perimeter of that scenic Park. As we got closer to the entrance, I wondered if the blustery winds the past few days wreaked havoc with the beautiful trees, stripping them bare and sending their leaves in a downward spiral to carpet the ground. Well, we were pleasantly surprised to see many trees full of leaves, still cloaked in their beautiful Fall colors. We rounded a bend and Marge suddenly whipped out her camera and took this photo above. The scene reminded me of one of my mom’s jigsaw puzzles. How magnificent those trees looked and so picturesque on a sunny, but bitterly cold, Saturday morning.

We continued to take in the sights as we made our way slowly around the Park. Up ahead, a small car was pulled over on the shoulder on the left-side of the asphalt road. We pulled in behind after seeing a crowd of squirrels gathered in the wooded area near the car. A group of squirrels – numbering about 30-35, were sitting around munching contently on peanuts, with the occasional brave Blue Jay zooming in for a nut, then lifting off and returning from whence he came, only to repeat the process with a few of his counterparts a few minutes later. As we drove past, we saw the driver watching us – another kindly soul, enjoying her afternoon and eager to help the critters tuck away a few goodies for the long Winter ahead. It was a peaceful and idyllic scene. The sun warmed the front window and it felt so good basking in the sunlight, capturing the picture in my mind’s eye to churn out during those chilly months ahead.

We exited the Park and drove along West Jefferson, pausing briefly to look for deer near the site of the old McLouth Steel Plant. Usually the deer come out of the bushes to feed at a place where people often leave bales of hay or toss their carved pumpkins after Halloween is over for the deer to feed on. Oh dear – the deer were absent today. I hope that no one was taking pot shots at them somewhere so they ran for cover!

We continued along West Jefferson, through downtown Wyandotte, and on to Bishop Park. It was so beautiful there today – the sun was high in the sky and a freighter was lazily gliding by while the seagulls kept watch from the sidelines.

I hated for our trip to come to an end, especially since I had some outside chores to do. Though it was a pretty day, the sun belied the frigid temps. I got a very brief walk in as well, and, but for the interlude of outside Winter prep chores, it was a perfect Fall day.

Well, this morning’s walk in the Park was no “walk in the park” as that expression goes … it was downright cold, and, when I opened the door to go out, it sure was not inviting in the least. But I am “this close” to finishing up my goal for the year, so off I went, after piling on even more layers, including my early Christmas present from Buddy. I bought myself a rather frivolous gift the other day, convincing my frugal self, that it was Buddy’s Christmas present to me, so it was therefore allowed. After fumbling to remove my gloves to take a picture last weekend, then essentially missing the shot by a mile, I decided to buy a pair of convertible fingerless gloves, with flip-up mitten tops. They are no doubt created for the younger set who text all the time, but they will work super for me when using the camera on those frosty mornings at the Park. I decided it was cold enough to wear them this morning and they sure were toasty … the rest of me – well, not so much.

The cold temps and yesterday’s snow flurries have descended on Council Point Park big time. As I walked on the perimeter trail, I saw loads of frost-encrusted leaves and a heavy layer of frost on the grass. In some places, the Creek already has a thin veil of ice covering portions of the water. Where there was no ice, the ducks were silently gliding along, stopping occasionally to alight on a log to preen themselves, or, intermittently plunging their pretty iridescent heads into the water in search of breakfast. They made me all the colder watching all that dunking in that chilly water. The Glee Club was out in full force. What is the Glee Club you ask? Often, when I start on the trail, I will see the various squirrels stop in their tracks, sit up on their haunches and then scamper over to see me from all parts of the Park. It puts a smile on my face, and, I must say, sometimes the look on their collective faces is one of pure glee in that they know a treat is coming … sustenance for them, but a good feeling for me. I wonder just how they will survive the elements sometimes because the berries are gone and I don’t think I’ve seen any Oak trees from which they might glean acorns. Perhaps they stray to the nearby neighborhoods to work their magic on the homeowners there. So, I gifted the Glee Club as I walked along the trail the first time, then revisited again on my second time around, and, of course by then, the peanuts were already eaten or stashed away somewhere so they came over to me once again. I may be in the poorhouse for my good deeds, but it warmed my heart to watch their antics on a frigid cold day like this one.

Weather folklore is great – after all, what would we do without Punxsutawney Phil predicting how many weeks are left in the Winter season? Naturalists say that an abundance of acorns littering your lawn means a bad Winter is on the way. Oh-oh … I’ve seen more acorns than usual on the City sidewalks this year. And “The Old Farmer’s Almanac” tells us a Woolly Bear caterpillar, like the one I saw on the Park trail back in late September and pictured above, is a good way to tell what is in store for Winter; the wider the light-brown band on its body is, the more weeks of Winter, because supposedly each segment represents one week of Winter. Well, this guy looks like three equal-colored segments to me. Folklore and urban legend tells us that squirrels gathering and stashing nuts in a hurry will cause the skies to flurry, and, also we can tell if the Winter will be wicked by how furry a squirrel’s tail is – the furrier the tail, the worse the Winter. Well my furry friends at the Park are gathering nuts aplenty and flicking their ample tails quite a bit so I guess we stay tuned and hope for the best. Whether we are predicting this Winter’s weather by studying squirrels’ tails or relying on Grandpa’s tales, I think we’re going to take it on the chin either way.

Well, that was the thought bubble over my head as I peered out the front door in my polar fleece PJs to see if it was flurrying in my neck of the woods since that was the #1 topic of conversation on the radio while I was eating breakfast. There was nary a flurry, so I suited up and got out as quickly as possible. Halfway to Council Point Park it became a different story, however, when huge flakes starting falling down and landing on my sleeves and pants and settling into the grass near the sidewalks. Wanting to remain undaunted by the snow flurries, I just kept walking. It was not as windy as yesterday but the wind chill was 23 degrees and I was cold, despite my multiple layers. I started on the perimeter path and decided to walk quickly to get my two complete loops in before heading home, should the weather turn worse. Today, the squirrels were in tune with my arrival, and scampered down to greet me as I walked along. I brought plenty of peanuts to share and there were many eager fur munchkins hanging out around my feet or waylaying me as I walked toward them. I did not have to turn around to know I had a few squirrels behind me because walkers coming from the opposite direction were either trying to stifle a giggle at the sight or pointing at the ground at my “following” … everyone should have a follower … or two … or three …. Through frozen lips each walker called out “good morning” and grumbled about the weather. I told the others that Mother Nature just wants to show who is the boss and one gentleman declared “Mother Nature just doesn’t like Michigan.” I sure am glad I am nearing the end of my miles walked to achieve my goal, because I think we are about to forego the balance of Fall and zip right into Winter and get slammed mightily. Today I put in a cool six miles to try to get finished as soon as possible and tomorrow I hope to do likewise.

… like these two above. But, for sure in these cold temps, you won’t want to “bare” it. Yikes! This morning it felt like Winter was here with a vengeance. It was blustery and downright cold, but dry, so off I went once the sun was up and it was light enough outside. I thought there might be some black ice from last night’s rain, but it was fine. Now that it’s cold again, it takes forever to get dressed and ready in my multiple light layers. Of course, the furnace always has to kick on while I am sitting tying up my shoes next to the register, all suited up and just needing to grab a coat to head out. Ol’ Sol wasn’t warming up the Earth much this morning, and, despite my layering up, I flipped my coat hood over my head and huddled down into my coat as I walked through the neighborhoods. Exhaust poured out of cars while they were warming up and kids ran out of the house wearing heavy parkas and mittens, their back packs strapped on and looking ten pounds heavier than they did yesterday at the same time. Down at the Park, only the diehard walkers were present this morning and the wind was chilly and had a bite to it every time you rounded a loop. I had packed a half-dozen Pink Lady apples and a big pack of peanuts for my furry friends. It felt like I should have packed some heat as well – no, not a gun, though I could quip that we are having a .38 Special type of weather forecast for the next five days – 38 degrees for a high each day. The first complete perimeter loop around I was loaded down with treats and there were no takers – perhaps the squirrels wanted to skip the early a.m. foray and stay tucked up high in their nests with their main squeeze. However, on the second trip around, some inquisitive squirrels came out to see what I had for them and I was happy to strew some peanuts on the path and set out some withered-looking apples. I bought those apples awhile ago and then kept getting cider every time I went grocery shopping, and putting those apples aside. Oops. They were all wrinkled up and soft, but that didn’t matter to the squirrels. After two complete loops I headed home, eyes smarting from the cold air and if I may be so cheeky to say – there were two sets of red cheeks from this morning’s frigid weather. It was worth the effort though – I added five more miles toward my goal.

… and those caissons go rolling along. This morning while walking I was thinking about “The Caisson Song” on this Veteran’s Day 2014. This was one of the first songs I learned to play on the accordion back in the 60s and I probably drove my parents crazy playing it several times each day ‘til my accordion teacher moved on to the next lesson and a new song. My trek through the neighborhoods, down to the Park and along a nice asphalt trail in comfortable clothes and walking shoes could never be one iota as treacherous or demanding as the route many of our armed forces personnel must march on or travel every day … mine is a cakewalk for sure.

Not wanting to miss one minute of this last, beautiful, calm-before-the-storm-and-brutal-cold- weather day, I left the house as soon it was light outside. Destination: Council Point Park followed by a quick jag over to Memorial Park to the memorial pavilion area. On my last visit to the Park on Sunday, I couldn’t help but notice a new memorial wreath under a large fir tree. My interest piqued, I went over to look at the wreath and decided to take a picture of it and the tree for today’s blog post. The memorial wreath commemorates a Marine – Sergeant Donald J. Di Pietro. A light-yellow silk ribbon says “In Loving Memory”. I paused a moment in front of the wreath before leaving while wondering about the fate of Sergeant Di Pietro. Was he a career Marine? An elderly veteran? Or was he a young man, like Lincoln Park High School graduate Sergeant Craig Frank, who enlisted in the Army National Guard, and was deployed to Iraq to the campaign known as “Operation Iraqi Freedom”? Sergeant Frank’s dreams and life were cut short at age 24 in 2004 from injuries from a RPG. A permanent Fallen Heroes memorial honors him in Memorial Park and I wrote about at length in last year’s Veteran’s Day blog post: https://lindaschaubblog.net/2013/11/11/remembering-and-honoring-our-vets/ … I wondered all these things, just from looking at that brightly colored wreath sitting solemnly in front of the stately fir tree. I left and began my walk. Much later that day, after returning home, when I downloaded the pictures from the camera, I examined the close-up photo of the wreath but couldn’t quite read the spelling of the Marine’s name. I decided to return today to find out his complete name so I could do some internet research to delve into any info about this Marine. It turned out his story is just as heart-wrenching as Sergeant Frank’s, but in a different way. Coincidentally, both young men attended and were graduated from Lincoln Park High School, some five years apart. I found out that Sergeant Donald Di Pietro passed away at age 28, on March 9, 2013. But he didn’t die from injuries sustained from defending his country. Instead, after serving six years in Iraq and Mexico, this decorated serviceman was then stationed in Texas. He was off-duty and riding his motorcycle in San Angelo, Texas, enroute to meet some fellow Marine buddies at 7:30 p.m.. He was killed instantly as a result of a drunk driver, sadly, someone who had several other instances of driving while intoxicated already. Sergeant Di Pietro was to be promoted to Staff Sergeant in the near future. I found this news story about this young serviceman:

http://www.thenewsherald.com/news/father-grieves-loss-of-marine-son-allegedly-killed-by-drunken/article_1e4c3b2d-06bf-5e55-8ced-871baf663f09.html

On this Veteran’s Day and always, thank you to all who have served and continue to serve this country.

It was a beautiful morning and I bemoaned the fact that I had to take my car into the dealership to fix the infamous ignition switch recall issue, and would miss out on a walking opportunity. I thought about wearing my walking gear and traipsing along Telegraph Road instead of staying in the waiting room, but it is busy on that highway, so I just took a loss on the walking event and watched the “The Today Show” instead. Like you, I heard about that ignition switch issue from the outset, and even Googled around to learn more about it after I found out my 2009 LaCrosse was part of the recall. I could have sworn that the part was on the steering wheel and the two rings in question were part of the ignition switch where the key fits in. Well, I was dead wrong … for my car anyway. I arrived at 8:15 a.m. and I was greeted inside the service area, where my car was allowed to remain, basking under the awesome overhead heater. Instead, it was the keys that were carried to be fitted with new slots. Instead of a horizontal slot, it is now a round hole and the ignition key connects via two small rings onto your key chain. That was the two rings you keep hearing about! While I was there I prevailed on my nice service rep to reset the current time. In fact, driving home, I happened to glance over and saw the time and wondered why I didn’t just ask Chris to set it to Daylight Saving Time, since I don’t drive much in the Winter months anyway. Zubor Buick and I are no strangers to recalls. This might have been the first recall for the LaCrosse, but my previous car, my 1988 Buick Regal had several recalls and I was part of the brake litigation after getting multiple sets of brakes on the front and back. I loved my Regal, which is pictured above, and felt like a princess riding around in its rich burgundy velour seats, Landau roof and sides trimmed with mirrors and pin stripes. The color was officially called “Ruby Red”, but it was actually more like an iridescent burgundy. The saleswoman I bought it from had the identical car in a powder blue paint/roof combo. We often would see one another tooling around Lincoln Park and alot of honking would ensue; it was as though we belonged to a private club or something. I am surprised I didn’t wear the paint off, since I was always washing and waxing it to keep that new-car gleam and because I took the bus downtown, it spent most of the time ensconced in the garage, out of the harsh elements. But, though I loved that car, electrical issues finally exasperated me to no end and I had to get rid of it as it was not always reliable. Through the years, I lived through its honking issues, when the horn would start honking for no reason. “Mushy horn pad” and a manufacturer’s defect I was told when I took it to the dealership. They shrugged their shoulders as they could find no way to correct it, so I used to take the horn fuse out and kept a pair of tweezers and the horn fuse handy in a coffee cup on the car floor. It was a little tedious when I had an agenda of driving errands and had to take the fuse in/out/in/out, many times dropping that tiny fuse on the floor, so I always had to have a stash of new fuses in the glove box. I finally took it to a car repair shop that opened up around the corner from me and they jerry-rigged a horn button that worked, although I never ever used the horn, but going hornless was not recommended. One recall was for the passenger door which would not stay open; it would slowly close shut on its own volition. They put a special hinge and it worked fine. The gas gauge conked on three or four years after I got it, so I kept track of my mileage in a spiral notebook in the glove box. For still another recall, I had to take it in because the cars keys hanging down scraped the paint off under the ignition switch and they kept the car several days, painting the steering column with a more durable paint, guaranteed not to wear off – ever. I had that car for 21 years and it only had 64,000 miles on it when I decided to get the LaCrosse. I actually cried on the day I let it go … yes, a modern woman should not get maudlin over her wheels I suppose, but … I was heartbroken to turn it loose. I know I also broke the hearts of several neighbors who were eager to buy it from me, but I couldn’t bear to see anyone else tooling around town on what were “my wheels” all those years.

When I arrived at the Park, I was the first one there, and that surprised me since the wind was not huffing and puffing and there was no precipitation (for a change). The red-hued leaves have now disappeared, and, in their stead there are yellow leaves aplenty. The term “harvest gold” sure was the color of the day as golden leaves littered the Park and were drifting in the swift Creek current as well, in fact – it made the water look almost golden in some spots. As I walked my two complete loops around the Park I heard the brittle brown leaves hanging on for dear life and wiggling in the wind, their crispness sounding like mini chandeliers in the slight breeze. The Park’s formerly vibrant colors are now mostly mottled and muted now, and almost non-descript. Many of the trees are already bare and exposing huge, previously hidden squirrel’s nests way up high. Speaking of squirrels, I tucked an extra pack of peanuts into my pocket, intending to share one bag for each loop of the trail the first time around. However, on the second loop, there were not many takers, and, one particularly cute little guy, with a dark-colored nose, kept begging at my toes. I kept “gifting” him with more peanuts after I watched him run ahead of me, then double-back, then finally come right up to my feet to grab my attention. At one point, I wanted to hand him the Ziploc bag and say “take these peanuts and save ‘em for later in the season – you’ll need ‘em”. I took some pictures of him as he kept posing for peanuts and I’ll share them later in the week. I also clicked off some shots of the mallards that I now can see much better since the leaves are sparse on the bushes and trees. One of those pictures is above. It’s harder to take pictures now as I have to keep ditching the gloves to operate the camera, and sometimes a nice shot is missed in trying to finagle the gloves and camera quickly. The wind chill was 29 degrees and the temperature was right at the freezing mark when I departed for my walk. Well, brrrrrr … and it was breezier and colder than that in the open areas of the Park I’m sure. It was not a picture-perfect day at all; in fact, the clouds hung down dark and heavy and it almost looked like a snow sky. I came home with rosy cheeks, my nose running and eyes watering from the stinging cold, but with a sunny disposition because there are no gray days at the Park.