By Laura Schroff and Alex Tresiowski
I don't remember the last time I was so moved by a book. It's a true story about a successful business woman in Manhattan, and an 11-year-old panhandler and the development of an incredible and lasting friendship, one that changes both of them. It's not just about the little boy's horrendous life, it weaves back and forth between their story and her childhood with a violent alcoholic father.
I think what got me the most was realizing all the simple things we take for granted, things that invoked awe or silent wonder in the little boy.
Also, there is a fascinating vignette when her mother dies. Another thought-provoking peek into the hereafter. About the time I'm convinced there is no autonomous consciousness after death, I hear or read an experience hinting of something else...
If you want to take a break from the heaviness of the day, this is a wonderful and heartwarming story of possibility.
-- Post From My iPhone
Wednesday, April 04, 2012
Sunday, March 25, 2012
A change of heart?
I just read in the news that Mr. Cheney got a new heart. Reading this reminded me of a little evangelical record I listened to over and over as a child. I'm not sure why, but I can still recite it:
"Mary had a little pig and he was white as snow.
That is, when he had had a bath, as you of course might know.
But Mary had an awful time to keep that piggy clean,
for he was just the dirtiest pig that one has ever seen.
She'd wash him and scrub him until he would squirm and squeal,
as if he wanted her to know he'd had an unfair deal.
And then in the green back yard he'd play from morning until night,
unless he'd happen to sneak out and lose himself from sight.
And when Mary would find him, he'd be blacker than e'er before,
So Mary'd get the soap again and scrub that pig some more.
Poor Mary thought and wondered much what she could ever do,
But then she figured out a plan and this she carried through.
She took him to a doctor, who put the pig to sleep.
And then he took his heart right out! But not of course to keep.
And then he took a little lamb and took his heart out, too,
And put it in the little pig before the piggy knew.
When little piggy did awake, he had no more desire
To wallow in the mud again or ever in the mire.
And try as hard as e'er he could he never understood
How such a pig as once he was could ever be so good!
So you see, boys and girls, you need a new heart too,
Just like the little piggy did, the old will never do.
Would you receive a brand new heart? Well here is how you may...
Accept God's son as savior now and let him in today!"
-- Post From My iPhone
"Mary had a little pig and he was white as snow.
That is, when he had had a bath, as you of course might know.
But Mary had an awful time to keep that piggy clean,
for he was just the dirtiest pig that one has ever seen.
She'd wash him and scrub him until he would squirm and squeal,
as if he wanted her to know he'd had an unfair deal.
And then in the green back yard he'd play from morning until night,
unless he'd happen to sneak out and lose himself from sight.
And when Mary would find him, he'd be blacker than e'er before,
So Mary'd get the soap again and scrub that pig some more.
Poor Mary thought and wondered much what she could ever do,
But then she figured out a plan and this she carried through.
She took him to a doctor, who put the pig to sleep.
And then he took his heart right out! But not of course to keep.
And then he took a little lamb and took his heart out, too,
And put it in the little pig before the piggy knew.
When little piggy did awake, he had no more desire
To wallow in the mud again or ever in the mire.
And try as hard as e'er he could he never understood
How such a pig as once he was could ever be so good!
So you see, boys and girls, you need a new heart too,
Just like the little piggy did, the old will never do.
Would you receive a brand new heart? Well here is how you may...
Accept God's son as savior now and let him in today!"
-- Post From My iPhone
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Back to my Roots . . . Sorta
When I was a little girl I was labelled a tomboy. I loved being outside, playing ball with my brother ("you don't throw like a girl"), driving the little Ford-Ferguson tractor my dad had, helping stack hay bales ... anything but house work and girl things. I wanted to grow up and marry a farmer. (Back then I couldn't imagine determining my own course and I suppose this was the best my little sheltered self could hope for).
Fast forward about 60 years, through a lot of experience and growth, and it now appears I've married a farmer. I spent about six hours in the vineyard side by side with Larry yesterday. We are experiencing the earliest bud break in history here in the east according to other vineyard owners, and we are way behind in getting canes tied down. After bud break we risk knocking the little buggers off. The kids, who normally
help with this, are off with other commitments, so I volunteered to help. I never thought I would be so actively involved in the labor intensive parts of this vineyard operation! But it's actually quite pleasant, working steadily in the sun, the slow, quiet pace allows reflection and connection to a different reality.
So, the old adage rings true again, "be careful what you wish for!"
Fast forward about 60 years, through a lot of experience and growth, and it now appears I've married a farmer. I spent about six hours in the vineyard side by side with Larry yesterday. We are experiencing the earliest bud break in history here in the east according to other vineyard owners, and we are way behind in getting canes tied down. After bud break we risk knocking the little buggers off. The kids, who normally
So, the old adage rings true again, "be careful what you wish for!"
Monday, December 05, 2011
2011 Christmas Greeting
the months have flown since last we wrote. ‘Tis time
to be in touch, to send the annual rhyme,
a jaunty update on the year that passed.
Our work continues on the road, though less
than years before. We still enjoy each day
we spend with client-friends and so we say
we’ll keep on traveling for awhile. And, yes,
the days at home are filled from morn ‘til night.
Developing the vineyard’s Larry’s goal.
Though insects, birds and fall rains took their toll,
we gave our very best to do things right!
We can’t predict events that are in store
But count the blessings we are thankful for.
We didn’t stray too far from home, although
the trips we took are memorable. We went
to San Antonio. Four days we spent
with veterinary friends met long ago.
We drove to Outer Banks for family fun.
The birds, the fish, the water and the sand
provided joy for all our merry band.
The days flew by and soon the week was done.
Two weddings gave excuse to travel west
and celebrate with folks from far and near.
We trekked to Pine Creek as we do each year.
With safety in our travels we were blessed.
We’re glad for opportunities like these
and frequently replay the memories.
Our family all are well and working hard
in various endeavors every day.
They share their gifts with us, and I must say
we use our Doc. She’s constantly on guard
to patch us up from falls and stings and more
results from disregarding natural law--
like Larry’s run-in with a table saw,
(this year’s worst “oops” involving blood and gore).
We spoke our gratitude ‘most every day
while watching as his fingers quickly healed.
The wonder of our bodies is revealed
in these experiences, I guess you’d say,
And we affirm with, health and strength reborn,
God’s mercies freely given every morn!
A challenge I have yet to mention here
was offered by my daughters. Could we try
to finish a half marathon? Oh, my!
We did it! Not just once, but twice this year!
The benefits to life and limb abound.
It’s been a pleasant outlet, a great way
to shed all the encroachments of the day
and waken to the beauty all around.
And so in spite of news which would depress,
aware of want and sadness, folks in pain,
we hold to hope that joy and peace will reign,
transforming our surroundings, nonetheless.
We end with one last wish to all held dear—
A Merry Christmas and a bright New Year!
Sunday, November 27, 2011
A Story of Letting Go
Or, alternatively, "How it happened that I once bought a gun for Larry"
I recently told this story to some friends, who encouraged me to publish it on my blog. So here goes.
You must know, of course, that I'm pretty straight forward and not the storyteller some of my friends are. Most of my stories include elements of personal growth. This one is no exception....personal growth and "letting go" but not without elements of humor and irony.
You must also realize how much I detest guns and how difficult it was for me to accept Larry's devotion to hunting. Experiencing the hunting culture of his family and community was quite a shock to me. And so every year, as Larry would take off to the mountains, leaving me at home with children and
animals, I would struggle with resentment and frustration.
Often, of course, something would go wrong while he was gone. Pipes would freeze, animals would get out. Two different years our golden retriever (I'm not a dog lover, so this was HIS dog in my mind) went up to the neighbor's and bit their dog (in our dog's defense, the neighbor's dog was an ugly little thing that probably resembled a ground hog to him). Nevertheless, I struggled with my attitude year after year as Larry would meticulously pack, and by the time he'd finally get out the door I'd be boiling inside.
It didn't help, I suppose, that I would hear stories that just inflated my impressions that hunting takes precedence over EVERYTHING else. For instance, many years ago, one local man was up at his cabin for a couple weeks when one of his sons was born, and his wife sent him a POSTCARD to inform him!
One year, (nearly 20 years ago, I suppose, because the kids were all still at home) I was determined to get past this road block, and so I sat and journaled awhile. Journaling has always brought helpful insights to the fore for me. I came to realize that it wasn't the hunting that bothered me so much, but what it stood for to me....the great white hunter, male privilege, being taken for granted, and the like. Then I
began to compare that list with who Larry actually is, what it is about hunting that is important to him: spending time away with his dad and uncles, (now it's his brothers, sons and grandsons!) just being out in the woods, and yes, a successful hunt and the
resulting venison. I also realized that he had done his best to take care of things here before he left. I also knew that to love someone is to free them to be who they are, not who we would want them to be . . .on and on, you get the picture.
Anyway, I determined that I would let go of my frustrations, let go of expectations, and "let" Larry be who he is and appreciate him for who he is (not that he was going to change anyway!!). So, then, what action could I take to symbolize this shift? How about I buy him a gun for Christmas? That would be a huge surprise! The more I thought about it the more excited I became. Again, not that it was a gun, but the message buying a gun for him would carry. So I asked Reuben what gun his dad would want, and he immediately said, "He's always wanted a .22 Hornet like Grandpa had."
Okay, so I went out to the Trop Gun Shop and sheepishly told the guys there that I knew nothing about guns but that I wanted to buy a .22 Hornet for my husband. I ended up with a Browning. I think they said it was the Cadillac. Whatever. They were quite impressed with me, though, and expressed some envy of Larry. I think they thought I am a pretty
special wife!
Of course, I had to buy the gun in my name, and along with that came a 6 month complementary membership in the NRA! The boys still like to tease me about that.
Larry was surprised and happy. And I've remained free from all the negative stuff that had clung to me for so many years. Here's some more irony. It always seemed that Larry was gone so long, at least a day
longer than he should have been. Now, when I don't care, he often comes home a day sooner than he had originally planned.
That's my story, and I'm sticking to it!
-- Post From My iPhone
I recently told this story to some friends, who encouraged me to publish it on my blog. So here goes.
You must know, of course, that I'm pretty straight forward and not the storyteller some of my friends are. Most of my stories include elements of personal growth. This one is no exception....personal growth and "letting go" but not without elements of humor and irony.
You must also realize how much I detest guns and how difficult it was for me to accept Larry's devotion to hunting. Experiencing the hunting culture of his family and community was quite a shock to me. And so every year, as Larry would take off to the mountains, leaving me at home with children and
animals, I would struggle with resentment and frustration.
Often, of course, something would go wrong while he was gone. Pipes would freeze, animals would get out. Two different years our golden retriever (I'm not a dog lover, so this was HIS dog in my mind) went up to the neighbor's and bit their dog (in our dog's defense, the neighbor's dog was an ugly little thing that probably resembled a ground hog to him). Nevertheless, I struggled with my attitude year after year as Larry would meticulously pack, and by the time he'd finally get out the door I'd be boiling inside.
It didn't help, I suppose, that I would hear stories that just inflated my impressions that hunting takes precedence over EVERYTHING else. For instance, many years ago, one local man was up at his cabin for a couple weeks when one of his sons was born, and his wife sent him a POSTCARD to inform him!
One year, (nearly 20 years ago, I suppose, because the kids were all still at home) I was determined to get past this road block, and so I sat and journaled awhile. Journaling has always brought helpful insights to the fore for me. I came to realize that it wasn't the hunting that bothered me so much, but what it stood for to me....the great white hunter, male privilege, being taken for granted, and the like. Then I
began to compare that list with who Larry actually is, what it is about hunting that is important to him: spending time away with his dad and uncles, (now it's his brothers, sons and grandsons!) just being out in the woods, and yes, a successful hunt and the
resulting venison. I also realized that he had done his best to take care of things here before he left. I also knew that to love someone is to free them to be who they are, not who we would want them to be . . .on and on, you get the picture.
Anyway, I determined that I would let go of my frustrations, let go of expectations, and "let" Larry be who he is and appreciate him for who he is (not that he was going to change anyway!!). So, then, what action could I take to symbolize this shift? How about I buy him a gun for Christmas? That would be a huge surprise! The more I thought about it the more excited I became. Again, not that it was a gun, but the message buying a gun for him would carry. So I asked Reuben what gun his dad would want, and he immediately said, "He's always wanted a .22 Hornet like Grandpa had."
Okay, so I went out to the Trop Gun Shop and sheepishly told the guys there that I knew nothing about guns but that I wanted to buy a .22 Hornet for my husband. I ended up with a Browning. I think they said it was the Cadillac. Whatever. They were quite impressed with me, though, and expressed some envy of Larry. I think they thought I am a pretty
special wife!
Of course, I had to buy the gun in my name, and along with that came a 6 month complementary membership in the NRA! The boys still like to tease me about that.
Larry was surprised and happy. And I've remained free from all the negative stuff that had clung to me for so many years. Here's some more irony. It always seemed that Larry was gone so long, at least a day
longer than he should have been. Now, when I don't care, he often comes home a day sooner than he had originally planned.
That's my story, and I'm sticking to it!
-- Post From My iPhone
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
A Bear Tale
Last weekend members of Larry's extended family gathered at a cabin along Pine Creek in Slate Run, PA, for their annual reunion, its 43rd year. We were a smaller group than usual with several cousins absent; even so, we numbered fifty, circling the yard in numerous tents and campers. Only Larry's 89-year-old mother and two others were in the cabin.
Larry and I take our gooseneck work trailer, put a mattress up top in the neck and sleep in relative comfort. Thursday night I woke to the sound of rustling in the open pavilion nearby. I finally grabbed my glasses and crawled down out of the bunk to investigate. Sure enough, I saw a black bear digging in the trashcan a few feet away. I woke Larry. By the time he got to the door, the bear had ambled down into the yard near another camper. Larry hollered at it, and it left the campsite, walking down the path that leads to the Slate Run General Store. I went out and retrieved our cooler from the picnic table. Two garbage cans were overturned, contents strewn about. It was 2:00 a.m. We went back to bed, though I didn't sleep real well the rest of the night.
In the morning, we learned another chapter. At about 1:45, Larry's brother Don had heard someone digging in one of the ice chests outside his door. The someone was actually the bear, and he chased it away. Evidently the ice chest hadn't been closed properly after the evening campfire foodfest and the bear smelled dinner. The food belonged to Larry's mom. The bear had a feast. It ate her nectarines. It poked a hole in her cookie tin, got the lid off and ate every cookie and whoopie pie. The tin was licked clean, not a crumb remained!
We expected that after such a successful forage the bear would be back again. Larry bought some pepper spray to have on hand. Friday evening Larry and I went to bed around 10. Our kids and their cousins were still around the fire. About 10:30, our son Reuben was yelling outside our door. "Dad! Where is the pepper spray?" Larry jumped down and directed him to the cartridge sitting on the counter by the door and Reuben left. I didn't get up, not wanting to get dressed again.
In the morning we heard the story--a more aggressive encounter than the night before. I wish it were captured on video!
When one of the young women left the fire and went down to her tent, she discovered the bear right by the tent. She ran yelling back to the fire. That is when Reuben came for the pepper spray. With all the commotion, the bear had already gone--temporarily.
About an hour later, after all were in their respective tents, my daughter-in-law heard the bear just outside their tent. She woke Nathan. They, in turn, got Reuben. Reuben chased the bear, pepper spray in hand. As he tells it, the bear ran back and forth a bit, ducking around campers, then headed for the stone fire place located between the pavilion and the cabin. The bear went around the fireplace one way, Reuben went the other, spraying the bear in the face when they met. Reuben says the bear sneezed or snorted a bit, hesitated, rambled along the edge of the bank, then stopped again, this time on the other side of the pavilion near the fire ring. Reuben then picked up a good-sized chunk of firewood and winged it at the bear, giving it a solid rap to the head. The bear then went down the bank, crossed the creek and went up the mountain on the other side.
We did not see it Saturday night.
And that's the story as I heard it!
We did have a good time. All of our children and grandchildren were there. The photo is seven of 17. Larry's mother is on the porch.
The weather was perfect. The creek was too low for tubing, but great for the little ones who could play and wander at will the entire width of the creek.
Levi (10) and Max (8) managed to contribute their specialty again, poor man's lobster. They found about three dozen good-sized crayfish we cooked up and served with drawn butter.
The kids were delighted. I don't care much for shellfish, but Larry said they were good, far superior in taste to crayfish he ate in a restaurant down south, perhaps because these were in a stony river bed rather than mud.
We also saw two eagles, a kingfisher, great blue heron and green heron.
Several of us ran or walked a 5K along the Rails to Trails on Saturday morning.
We couldn't have asked for a more beautiful setting.
-- Post From My iPhone
Larry and I take our gooseneck work trailer, put a mattress up top in the neck and sleep in relative comfort. Thursday night I woke to the sound of rustling in the open pavilion nearby. I finally grabbed my glasses and crawled down out of the bunk to investigate. Sure enough, I saw a black bear digging in the trashcan a few feet away. I woke Larry. By the time he got to the door, the bear had ambled down into the yard near another camper. Larry hollered at it, and it left the campsite, walking down the path that leads to the Slate Run General Store. I went out and retrieved our cooler from the picnic table. Two garbage cans were overturned, contents strewn about. It was 2:00 a.m. We went back to bed, though I didn't sleep real well the rest of the night.
In the morning, we learned another chapter. At about 1:45, Larry's brother Don had heard someone digging in one of the ice chests outside his door. The someone was actually the bear, and he chased it away. Evidently the ice chest hadn't been closed properly after the evening campfire foodfest and the bear smelled dinner. The food belonged to Larry's mom. The bear had a feast. It ate her nectarines. It poked a hole in her cookie tin, got the lid off and ate every cookie and whoopie pie. The tin was licked clean, not a crumb remained!
We expected that after such a successful forage the bear would be back again. Larry bought some pepper spray to have on hand. Friday evening Larry and I went to bed around 10. Our kids and their cousins were still around the fire. About 10:30, our son Reuben was yelling outside our door. "Dad! Where is the pepper spray?" Larry jumped down and directed him to the cartridge sitting on the counter by the door and Reuben left. I didn't get up, not wanting to get dressed again.
In the morning we heard the story--a more aggressive encounter than the night before. I wish it were captured on video!
When one of the young women left the fire and went down to her tent, she discovered the bear right by the tent. She ran yelling back to the fire. That is when Reuben came for the pepper spray. With all the commotion, the bear had already gone--temporarily.
About an hour later, after all were in their respective tents, my daughter-in-law heard the bear just outside their tent. She woke Nathan. They, in turn, got Reuben. Reuben chased the bear, pepper spray in hand. As he tells it, the bear ran back and forth a bit, ducking around campers, then headed for the stone fire place located between the pavilion and the cabin. The bear went around the fireplace one way, Reuben went the other, spraying the bear in the face when they met. Reuben says the bear sneezed or snorted a bit, hesitated, rambled along the edge of the bank, then stopped again, this time on the other side of the pavilion near the fire ring. Reuben then picked up a good-sized chunk of firewood and winged it at the bear, giving it a solid rap to the head. The bear then went down the bank, crossed the creek and went up the mountain on the other side.
We did not see it Saturday night.
And that's the story as I heard it!
We did have a good time. All of our children and grandchildren were there. The photo is seven of 17. Larry's mother is on the porch.
The weather was perfect. The creek was too low for tubing, but great for the little ones who could play and wander at will the entire width of the creek.
Levi (10) and Max (8) managed to contribute their specialty again, poor man's lobster. They found about three dozen good-sized crayfish we cooked up and served with drawn butter.
The kids were delighted. I don't care much for shellfish, but Larry said they were good, far superior in taste to crayfish he ate in a restaurant down south, perhaps because these were in a stony river bed rather than mud.
We also saw two eagles, a kingfisher, great blue heron and green heron.
Several of us ran or walked a 5K along the Rails to Trails on Saturday morning.
We couldn't have asked for a more beautiful setting.
-- Post From My iPhone
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Christmas Greeting 2010
Another year is ending . . . Twenty Ten.
As always, what began an empty page
is filled. The ups and downs upon our stage
give content to this missive once again.
Some things were planned, some took us by surprise.
The challenges of age were offset by
the freedom and the willingness to try
a new “If not today, then when?” reprise.
And so between the February storms
we flew to different places, both were grand.
He went to hunt with Don in Kona-land.
She spent the time in Arizona, warm.
What memories we made, what joy to be
with special friends and far flung family.
Spring dawned with added plants and greening vines.
Though lots of work, the vineyard brought a thrill
to Larry, Scott and Steve, who hope to fill
the future with a stock list of fine wines.
July held two reunions with our kin.
The Headings family hiked One Thousand Steps
to honor our beloved Ron, adept
in love and life and gathering people in.
With Kennels we enjoyed the annual ride
to Slate Run and Pine Creek. Fun, food and more!
Kids swim and fish, buy candy at the store.
We bike the trail or visit at fireside.
The gift of family does not dim or fade.
With thankful hearts we savor memories made.
September saw plans rearranged a bit
when Larry got wiped out by a recip.
His fall resulted in a fractured hip.
“A full replacement,” said the doc at Pitt.
Post surgery he lay flat, while miles away
a group of friends and family rallied round
to harvest our first crop of grapes. We found
it quite a humbling thing to see that day.
The trip from Pittsburgh home was not much fun.
But two weeks later, crutches tossed aside,
he went to work and hasn’t broken stride.
You’d never guess by all that he gets done.
As we go forward with our lives, we feel
much gratitude for how our bodies heal.
Some highlights of the “dream come true” design
unfolded for the Mrs. Yes, it’s true.
With Kratzes to Discovery Cove she flew
and swam with dolphins, gift of a lifetime.
In each of two 5K’s she ran her best,
and rode the train to NYC to join
with thousands using feet to raise some coin.
The goal, to banish cancer of the breast.
We’re glad to say our children all are fine.
We celebrate each little girl and boy,
sixteen in all. They fill our hearts with joy.
And every one to whom we send this line
has touched us in some way. We hold you dear
and send best wishes for the coming year.
Steve, Fran, Lily, Logan and Lucas
Reuben, Donna, Levi, Max, Judah, Ori and Gideon
Scott, Sarah, Jade, Colby and Tyler
Nathan, Terah, Bella, Noah, Jeremiah, Evelyn and Ruby
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Avon Walk for Breast Cancer - New York 2010
The 2010 New York Avon Walk for Breast Cancer is history. What an inspiring and memorable event! Nearly 4000 walkers, numbers of whom are breast cancer survivors, raised over $9.4 million dollars to fund research and to help provide treatment for those who need it.
Donations from my family and friends contributed $2655 to this amazing result. The commitment of women and men of all ages was almost too much for me to absorb. Reading the signs and t-shirt messages made the statistics quite personal and often brought a lump to my throat or tear to my eyes.
"Walking for Mom". "Walking for Nana". "Walking for Auntie Jess". One man was walking for his grandmother and FOUR aunts! Another woman told me she lost her best friend and vowed to walk until there is a cure. This was her tenth year walking.
There were hundreds of volunteers who marked the routes, staffed rest stops, provided medical aid, prepared food, helped us set up our tents and transport luggage, or worked in traffic safety at busy intersections. This biker, along with several others, not only volunteered, but added a touch of humor in showing support to the walkers.
Sponsors provided food, supplies, and foot and back massage at the end of the day. It was a huge undertaking, well planned and orchestrated.
Our walk began at 4:15 a.m.Saturday morning. Here we are on the subway, headed for the starting point, Hudson Pier 84.
We gathered with thousands of walkers, deposited our luggage in the appropriate truck, and grabbed some coffee.
Here we are, ready to go!
We began by walking along the Hudson River.
We walked along at a pretty good pace . . . we were at Mile 9 by 9:38 a.m. and we were at the lunch stop by 10.
We were often greeted and cheered on by supporters standing along the route. We saw this couple at at least three different spots during our 26 mile walk.
Saturday evening we joined hundreds of walkers in a tent city on Randall's Island.
We won't soon forget that experience, as we tried to pitch our tent in very blustery wind with no tent stakes provided! Later in the day, one of the men fashioned makeshift pegs out of a medium grade wire. Only then did we feel free to leave the tent!
Sunday morning sunrise along the East River.
Crossing the finish line! A bit sore and feeling our age after 26.2 miles, but exhiliarated to accomplish our goal!
Many of us stayed for the closing ceremony. The speaker was celebrity Suze Orman, one of the event's biggest fundraisers.
In it to end it . . . because every statistic is someone's best friend.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
August letter
This is a slightly edited version of my August letter sent to the Headings family:
The last month has been slow for embryo work, almost non existent, actually. We did have work this week, and we have now scheduled some things into September, for which we are grateful.
In the meantime, we didn't have trouble finding things to do! Larry has been working hard in the vineyard. We are grateful for Scott and Steve's help. It looks like we will have a nice crop this year. Normally it would be another year before harvesting grapes, but we had such good growth and established the vines so well last year, that we were able to let fruit on. I think we will be selling most of this year's crop, as we just aren't yet prepared to handle them. Another source of huge frustration for Larry is that we learned recently that the nursery sent us the wrong grapes last year . . . pinot noir instead of merlot. We do not have the optimal growing season for pinot. This means we will need to replace vines, losing two years of production and labor. A consultant for the nursery is coming next week to confirm this mistake, and then we will need to figure out what we do from there and what compensation we might expect. Sarah took some pictures for us this week. If you want to see what the vineyard and grapes are looking like, check out her website at www.littlemomentsbysarah.com/Grapes
A couple weeks ago Larry and I spent about four days up at the house/cabin. It was pleasant to be there, so peaceful! We have known since the first summer that there are bats occupying the attic and that we wanted them out! But how best to do that was the problem. We do want to have them around, just not in the house. So, while we were there, Larry spent three days building a large bat house (a bat condo, really!) out behind the garage. This week, enroute to a client in New York, we stopped overnight. Larry had discovered a simple "bat exclusion device" which would allow the bats to get out, but not back in, a 10 inch long piece of 2-inch in diameter PVC pipe. Up on the porch roof we went, fitted the pipe to the crack in the soffit, taped it securely with duct tape, as well as taping carefully along the remaining crack. That evening we sat out in the yard and waited . . . about eight o'clock, bats started dropping out through the pipe. We quit counting at 56! The next morning, at six o'clock, we went over to the bedroom window nearest that soffit. What we saw was amazing. Bats were swarming up to the taped soffit, trying desperately to get back in. They didn't! But I almost felt sorry for them. Their anxiety was obvious! They would fly in, scurry along the tape, drop away, fly in, feel along the tape, drop away. Oh, well, they do have a lovely condo waiting, if they are interested. I took a video. What a scene. We want to get back up soon and permanently seal the soffit, assuming all the bats have vacated.
Reuben and Donna were at the beach last week. Reuben and the boys stayed here one night on their way back home (Donna stayed another couple days along with some friends). Larry took Judah down to the ChooChoo Barn to celebrate his birthday (just a bit late!!) I took Bella to the Pottery Works one day last week to celebrate her birthday. She starts back to school in first grade soon.
This week is significant, isn't it [Note: a year ago on the 18th is when my younger brother died unexpectedly of a heart attack] . . I know we have all been thinking about Ron, as well as Jill, Holiday, Meredith, Devaron and Shae. May we continue to be inspired by Ron's life!
On Sunday, our church will have services here in the grove and a fellowship meal. That's always a fun time. Our church family suffered quite a blow two weeks ago when we learned, during the service, that one of our own, Glen Lapp, was one of the ten workers gunned down in Afghanistan while on a medical mission in a remote area. The intensity of loss we all experienced in this community reminded me over and over about the many, many losses that families have experienced in Afghanistan and Iraq, and other places around the globe....each life special, each loss leaving a huge hole in a family and community. It is sobering.
The end of September several of us are going to Pittsburgh to participate in a 5K "Great Race". I'm looking forward to being back in Pittsburgh . . . we have lots of good memories of that city!
In October, as some of you know, I plan to join a good friend in NYC for a two-day "marathon and a half" 39 mile walking event called Avon Walk for Breast Cancer. If any of you want to honor someone you know that has experienced breast cancer, a (tax-deductible) donation at my web page will get their name printed on my T-shirt! http://www.avonwalk.org/goto/Marilyn.Kennel
I have to commit to raising $1800 to walk, and I've set a goal of $2000. I've never done fundraising before, but almost everyone knows someone touched by this awful disease. I can name five people without having to stop and think about it. My T-shirt list already includes a sobering number of honorees and memorials....
If you have nothing better to do, here are links to online photo books of summer 2010 Headings and Kennel family reunions....
They are long links so you may have to copy and paste although they show up as live links in my program:
Headings book with special memorial event is at:
http://preview.picaboo.com/Webview/CoverPage.aspx?album=000000000007B12F0D&user=0000000000002725C7
Kennel book is at:
http://preview.picaboo.com/Webview/CoverPage.aspx?album=000000000007C2DB5C&user=0000000000002725C7
-- Post From My iPhone
The last month has been slow for embryo work, almost non existent, actually. We did have work this week, and we have now scheduled some things into September, for which we are grateful.
In the meantime, we didn't have trouble finding things to do! Larry has been working hard in the vineyard. We are grateful for Scott and Steve's help. It looks like we will have a nice crop this year. Normally it would be another year before harvesting grapes, but we had such good growth and established the vines so well last year, that we were able to let fruit on. I think we will be selling most of this year's crop, as we just aren't yet prepared to handle them. Another source of huge frustration for Larry is that we learned recently that the nursery sent us the wrong grapes last year . . . pinot noir instead of merlot. We do not have the optimal growing season for pinot. This means we will need to replace vines, losing two years of production and labor. A consultant for the nursery is coming next week to confirm this mistake, and then we will need to figure out what we do from there and what compensation we might expect. Sarah took some pictures for us this week. If you want to see what the vineyard and grapes are looking like, check out her website at www.littlemomentsbysarah.com/Grapes
A couple weeks ago Larry and I spent about four days up at the house/cabin. It was pleasant to be there, so peaceful! We have known since the first summer that there are bats occupying the attic and that we wanted them out! But how best to do that was the problem. We do want to have them around, just not in the house. So, while we were there, Larry spent three days building a large bat house (a bat condo, really!) out behind the garage. This week, enroute to a client in New York, we stopped overnight. Larry had discovered a simple "bat exclusion device" which would allow the bats to get out, but not back in, a 10 inch long piece of 2-inch in diameter PVC pipe. Up on the porch roof we went, fitted the pipe to the crack in the soffit, taped it securely with duct tape, as well as taping carefully along the remaining crack. That evening we sat out in the yard and waited . . . about eight o'clock, bats started dropping out through the pipe. We quit counting at 56! The next morning, at six o'clock, we went over to the bedroom window nearest that soffit. What we saw was amazing. Bats were swarming up to the taped soffit, trying desperately to get back in. They didn't! But I almost felt sorry for them. Their anxiety was obvious! They would fly in, scurry along the tape, drop away, fly in, feel along the tape, drop away. Oh, well, they do have a lovely condo waiting, if they are interested. I took a video. What a scene. We want to get back up soon and permanently seal the soffit, assuming all the bats have vacated.
Reuben and Donna were at the beach last week. Reuben and the boys stayed here one night on their way back home (Donna stayed another couple days along with some friends). Larry took Judah down to the ChooChoo Barn to celebrate his birthday (just a bit late!!) I took Bella to the Pottery Works one day last week to celebrate her birthday. She starts back to school in first grade soon.
This week is significant, isn't it [Note: a year ago on the 18th is when my younger brother died unexpectedly of a heart attack] . . I know we have all been thinking about Ron, as well as Jill, Holiday, Meredith, Devaron and Shae. May we continue to be inspired by Ron's life!
On Sunday, our church will have services here in the grove and a fellowship meal. That's always a fun time. Our church family suffered quite a blow two weeks ago when we learned, during the service, that one of our own, Glen Lapp, was one of the ten workers gunned down in Afghanistan while on a medical mission in a remote area. The intensity of loss we all experienced in this community reminded me over and over about the many, many losses that families have experienced in Afghanistan and Iraq, and other places around the globe....each life special, each loss leaving a huge hole in a family and community. It is sobering.
The end of September several of us are going to Pittsburgh to participate in a 5K "Great Race". I'm looking forward to being back in Pittsburgh . . . we have lots of good memories of that city!
In October, as some of you know, I plan to join a good friend in NYC for a two-day "marathon and a half" 39 mile walking event called Avon Walk for Breast Cancer. If any of you want to honor someone you know that has experienced breast cancer, a (tax-deductible) donation at my web page will get their name printed on my T-shirt! http://www.avonwalk.org/goto/Marilyn.Kennel
I have to commit to raising $1800 to walk, and I've set a goal of $2000. I've never done fundraising before, but almost everyone knows someone touched by this awful disease. I can name five people without having to stop and think about it. My T-shirt list already includes a sobering number of honorees and memorials....
If you have nothing better to do, here are links to online photo books of summer 2010 Headings and Kennel family reunions....
They are long links so you may have to copy and paste although they show up as live links in my program:
Headings book with special memorial event is at:
http://preview.picaboo.com/Webview/CoverPage.aspx?album=000000000007B12F0D&user=0000000000002725C7
Kennel book is at:
http://preview.picaboo.com/Webview/CoverPage.aspx?album=000000000007C2DB5C&user=0000000000002725C7
-- Post From My iPhone
Friday, August 06, 2010
Book Review: The Help
The Help by Kathryn StockettMy rating: 4 of 5 stars
This is the first book I've read in a long time that I absolutely didn't want to put down. Part of the fascination is that the setting (Mississippi, 1963)is one I know little about. I remember the Civil Rights movement from a northern perspective. This book gives a glimpse into what it might have been like to be a "colored" domestic, as well as the consequences for a young woman who challenged societal norms.
View all my reviews >>
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