"I Think That I Shall Never See.....

A poem as lovely as a tree" Joyce Kilmer

I think I love trees and poetry equally. The love of trees came first. Our Jasper #2 school yard was graced with many trees. Many of us had our own special tree we ran to at recess. More than one of us claimed the big old maple tree in the NW corner which meant if I wanted one to call my own I had to choose another.

When Dad planted two small maples in our front yard, the south one was mine, the north one was Betty's.

Over the years I've had many special trees including my Three Pines at the south end of the grove on the acreage NW of DM where we lived nine years.

At "The Little House" I was especially attracted to a grove of oaks on the hill across the creek on the farm south of us. I could feel magic there.

Ancient Celts believed different trees held special powers or served as homes for the faeries. The English word Druid derives in part from Celtic 'Dru' or oak. Maybe my Irish heritage accounts for some of my love of trees.

A passage from Muriel Barbery's "The Elegance of the Hedgehog" says it beautifully: "After I'd had a chance to think about it for a while I began to understand why I felt this sudden joy when Kakuro was talking about the birch trees. I get the same feeling when anyone talks about trees, any trees: the linden tree in the farmyard, the oak behind the old barn, the stately elms that have all disappeared now, the pine trees along wind-swept coasts, etc. There's so much humanity in a love of trees, so much nostalgia for our first sense of wonder, so much power in just feeling our own insignificance when we are surrounded by nature...yes, that's it: just thinking about trees and their indifferent majesty and our love for them teaches us how ridiculous we are--vile parasites squirming on the surface of the earth--and at the same time how deserving of life we can be, when we can honor this beauty that owes us nothing. I suddenly felt my spirit expand, for I was capable of grasping the utter beauty of the trees."

And from the Song of Wandering Aengus by W.B. Yeats: "I went out to the hazel wood, Because a fire was in my head, And cut and peeled a hazel wand, And hooked a berry to a thread; And when white moths were on the wing, And moth-like stars were flickering out, I dropped the berry in a stream, And caught a little silver trout......"

I love trees.

(The picture is one I took in NE Iowa last fall.)

Perfumes I Have Known

I can still remember how excited I was the first time I received 'perfume' for xmas at Grandma Ridnour's. I was eight or nine and the eau de toilette was 'Apple Blossom'. The little bottles of toilet water (as we called it) came in two fragrances. I think the other one was lilac, but Apple Blossom was my favourite. I felt so grown up when we got ready to go anywhere and I had my own perfume to put on.

By the time I started high school I had graduated to 'Blue Waltz' and 'Ben Hur'. I wanted to wear 'Evening In Paris' just because of the name, but it was more expensive. Then I was able to smell it and didn't like the odor even if I could have afforded it.

Avon fragrances were what I wore in my 20's - 'Somewhere' and 'Topaze' were two I liked. When I received a bottle of Coty's 'Imprevu' as a xmas gift, I thought I'd hit the big time as far as perfumes went. Houbigant's 'Chantilly' was my favourite throughout my 30's. I also liked 'Coty Musk Oil'.

When I was 37 I made a mis-step into the more expensive perfumes - I bought a set of Worth's 'Je Reviens' strictly because of its name, translated to "I Will Return". I could not wear it. Many perfumes affect me that way. I try them on my wrist at the perfume counter then have to locate a restroom so I can wash them off.

By the time I was in my 40's and the kids were mostly raised and I had a little more money to spend on myself, I was finally able to purchase what I thought of as "good" perfumes. 'Liz' by Liz Claiborne was what I wore for a long time - and Calvin Klein's 'Obsession'. I would wear 'Liz' during the day and 'Obsession' at night.

In my 50's & 60's I moved on to Clinique's 'Happy' and 'Aromatics Elixir'. I wore Estee Lauder's 'Pleasures' for awhile, but am now on my second bottle of her Eau de Parfum Spray 'Pleasures Delight'.

I know how a person spends money says something about them. I feel so much "richer" wearing an expensive perfume than I ever would wearing a designer dress. i.e., I will spend money on scents but not on clothes. What does that say about me? And what of my choices in scents? What stories do they tell through the years?

Black History Month

Celebrating Black History Month has made me think about my own experiences with Negroes - which was the polite term when I was growing up. More often I heard the other N word used. In grade school of course we learned about the Civil War and the Emancipation Proclamation; Harriet Beecher Stowe's, "Uncle Tom's Cabin", the Dred Scott Decision and George Washington Carver . By the time I was in high school we were living with desegregation of schools and civil rights stories in the news on a daily basis.
I vaguely remember when Corning had one or two black families in residence. The first time I remember meeting and talking with an African-American was when we went to visit Grandpa Ridnour when he was in the hospital in Omaha in 1956. One of the cleaning women was a cheerful, loquacious extrovert who brightened his days. She called everyone "honey", including Grandpa - even when Grandma was in the room.
When I was in highschool, I went to a MYF (Methodist Youth Fellowship) picnic with my friend Donna. It had been arranged to meet with a group of Black MYFers from Des Moines in the Winterset City Park.
Growing up I remember hearing stories about Ku Klux Klan activities around Corning in the 1920's which I always dismissed. But looking back in online Free Press archives, I find that those stories were true.
I also heard Bedford and Villisca referred to as "Sundown Towns". When I understood the meaning - that no Black person should be in their towns after sundown - I felt kind of proud that Corning wasn't a Sundown Town. Villisca especially was inhospitable to Blacks because for a time it was rumored that a Black man was responsible for the ax murders of eight people in 1912.
What I wasn't aware of was that Black History Month began in 1926 as Negro History Week. It was changed to BHM in 1976. Carter G. Woodson, an educator and historian chose the second week in February because of Abraham Lincoln's and Frederick Douglass' birthdays occurred then.
I've seen many changes during my lifetime in the way African-Americans have been treated. I'm proud to have voted for this country's first African-American president.

The Mentalist

I have been know to agree with the statement: "Television has been the ruination of this country." Certainly it has been a major factor in changing almost everyone's life since the 1950's.

As Mom aged she watched more Iowa Public Television than anything else. As she said, "There's nothing worth watching on the other channels." (ABC, CBS & NBC - she didn't have cable.)

I'm finding as I age, I agree even though we have Direct TV and get umpteen channels, I'd rather watch IPT or read.

There are a few exceptions and tonight is one of them - I have watched "Bones" from the beginning and finally got Bud to watch it. And we have both watched "The Mentalist" from the time of its debut in September, 2008. We love Patrick Jane's (Simon Baker) power of observation which enables him to solve the 'who dunnits'.

Smart, insightful, observant protagonists are also the reasons I watch "House", "Monk" (sadly, no more), "Law & Order" and, used to watch, the original "CSI" (until Wm Petersen left).

One of the reasons I have given up on network tv is that too many times I have begun watching a series, gotten invested in the characters and story line, only to have it canceled. I'd rather not watch at all than to be left in the lurch. "Vengeance Unlimited" with Michael Madsen was such a program. (1998-99 season) I loved the way Mr. Chapel used people he had helped in the past to carry out intricate scams to help his current deserving client and ultimately best the bad guys.

Solving crimes using the powers of observation are nothing new. Arthur Conan Doyle's "Sherlock Holmes" is the most famous for doing so. When I think of Sherlock, I see Jeremy Brett who played the master detective on tv for ten years. (Bud's first thought is Basil Rathbone.) We recently saw the Robert Downey, Jr. and Jude Law movie version of Sherlock Holmes and both enjoyed it.

I doubt Simon Baker's 'Mentalist' will last ten years as Jeremy Brett's 'Sherlock' did. I'm hopeful it will be on for another year or two at least. If not, Laurie R. King is still writing her "Mary Russell" books, so I have those to look forward to.

"Grandma's Chocolate Cake"

There was always dessert in our house. Dad had a sweet tooth and Mom loved to bake. Her cakes were made from scratch. She might start with a basic recipe then add her own touches. She listened to KMA every morning and wrote down Florence Falk's Recipe of the Day. Even when she lived alone she always baked cookies to have on hand if someone stopped in.

When it was our birthday, we got to choose what kind of cake we wanted. Ronald always wanted chocolate. Betty liked chocolate, too, but would also choose other flavors. I NEVER chose chocolate. I did not care for chocolate. I would choose white or yellow or butterscotch or spice; anything but chocolate. I don't know what Leslie's favourite was - probably chocolate.

When the kids and I moved back to SW Iowa after Dad died in '78, we spent a lot of time at Mom's and at Grandma Ridnour's. Grandma was in her 80's then and still living alone on the farm. Anytime she needed help doing something we went to help if we could.

Where my Mom kept cookies on hand, Grandma kept chocolate cake on hand. Not just any chocolate cake - a very moist, flat chocolate cake. It was the only chocolate cake I ever ate that I truly liked. She made it because it was so fast and easy. She said she could make it, bake it and frost it in a half hour. Even though I did and still do call it "Grandma's Chocolate Cake", I never got her recipe for it.

By searching through some cookbooks and online I have found a recipe that I think is near to what she made. It is called "Texas Sheet Cake". Directions are: Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Grease rectangular 13x9x2" baking pan. In large bowl mix together 2 C Sugar and 2 C Flour. In a saucepan, combine 1 Stick Margarine, 1 C Water, 1 C Oil and 4 T Cocoa. Bring to a boil and mix well. Pour over the flour/sugar mixture and mix well. To this batter, add 1/2 C Buttermilk, 1 tsp Baking Soda, 1 tsp Vanilla, 1 tsp Cinnamon and 2 Eggs. Mix well; pour into the pan and bake for 25 minutes. Remove cake from the oven and pour frosting on the cake immediately while the cake is still hot.

Frosting: In saucepan, combine 1 Stick Margarine and 6 T Milk. Heat gently until margarine is melted. Add 4 T Cocoa, 1 Box Confectioners Sugar, 1 tsp Vanilla and 1 C Chopped Nuts if desired.

I think Grandma sometimes substituted a cup of strong, cold coffee for the cup of water or perhaps half coffee and half water, which may be one of the reasons I liked her chocolate cake.

The first time Grandma offered this cake after we had done some little chore for her, I declined, politely stating that I didn't care for chocolate cake. If you remember Grandma, you can hear her commanding: "Oh, just try some!" After that, I always ate a piece of cake with her.

Groundhog Day Remembered

When I was a kid I couldn't remember which way the groundhog seeing his shadow went: six more weeks of winter if he did see his shadow or if he didn't? It took a long time for me to figure out that either way, we were going to have six more weeks of winter!

February 2nd brings two other memories for me, both from my days at Lariam Associates on 28th Street in Des Moines. I worked there as office manager of the recording studio plus I was still a member of PRSA from my days working in advertising and public relations. One thing you learn about Des Moines after living there awhile, you may think it is a city, but it's really just a larger version of a small town - especially in the field of media -- everyone knows everyone else. At least they did back then.

Someone, or a group of someones, in that field came up with the idea of celebrating Groundhog Day with a big party at Adventureland Inn. It was a fun evening. What I remember most about it was meeting Dic Youngs from KIOA. Of course I had listened to him for years - not sure if he was hosting his "Saturday Night Oldies" yet at that time and he probably wasn't referring to himself as "The Ole Youngster" as he did in later years. But he was still a 'Personality' and I was still impressed by meeting and talking to him.

Yes, Pooh Bear does have something to do with my other Groundhog Day memory - February 2, 1978. One of the writers at Love, Scott & Associates Advertising was a young guy by the name of Tim McGraw. (No, not THAT Tim McGraw!) Tim never went anywhere without his very own stuffed Winnie the Pooh Bear. The first time he came into the recording studio with that bear tucked inside his coat, I wondered about his level of maturity. But he acted like an adult. I decided that Pooh Bear was just a gimmick.

One day he came in without Winnie. While he was there he received a phone call from someone claiming he had Pooh and was demanding ransom. Such drama! That was the kind of stuff which made working there fun. (One of his co-workers had the bear which Tim eventually got back.)

Late in the afternoon of Groundhog Day, our sound man got the radio commercials for Love, Scott all ran off the duplicator ready to deliver. Their agency was on my way home from work, so I offered to drop them off. I called to let them know so someone would wait for me. Tim & Pooh were there. We talked for awhile then I said: "Want to go somewhere for a drink?" There was a little neighborhood bar in the same strip mall as their office. We went there.

One drink became several. We talked more than we ever had. There was a serious side to McGraw after all. By the time we left the bar and parted company, I was ready to know him even better. He, on the other hand, retreated to the safety of friendship, only.

A few months later I moved "back home" to SW Iowa. Tim & Pooh made the move to the Big Apple to try their luck. We wrote to one another a couple times a year for a while, then lost touch. Sometimes when Groundhog Day rolls around I am reminded of an old friend. I wonder if he still has his Winnie the Pooh. Or if Tim, like "The Ole Youngster" has departed this earth. (October 1, 2009)

"Sometimes, if you stand on the bottom rail of a bridge and lean over to watch the river slipping slowly away beneath you, you will suddenly know everything there is to be known." Winnie the Pooh

(Another significance of this day: It is exactly two months until sweet Alyssa's 21st birthday.)

My Son, The Builder

A few years ago I attended my first Inner Gardener workshop at The Wildwood Ranch near St. Charles, Iowa. (www.innergardener.com) I did not know any of the other attendees although I knew of one of the presenters, Debra Landwehr Engle. My daughter had worked for her as a research assistant one summer before starting college.

At the table where I sat for lunch the women continued getting acquainted with one another. I heard one woman talking about the house she and her husband were building on the edge of the Anita Country Club. Her last name was Miller. As she talked about their future retirement home, it suddenly clicked in my mind. "Do you know who your builder is?" I asked. She looked at me like well, duh? "Yes, our builder is Doug," she replied. And I said, "Yes, my son, Doug." Small world.

But perhaps not so small. I have lost track of the number of homes Doug has built. Pictured is an authentic New England Salt Box near Waukee. He has built starter homes in sub-divisions, log cabins, spec homes, mcmansions, custom homes (including an off the grid building in the woods near Macksburg) and his own family home on an acreage near Redfield. (The top picture is of him and my Mom standing in the Crow's Nest of the master bedroom overlooking the great room.)

In addition to the houses he has built, he has also remodeled many. Whenever possible, he has added his own artistic touches - like the Crow's Nest above and a copper roofed gazebo in Menlo. I marvel at his abilities and talent.

Doug seemed to know what he wanted to be from an early age. He graduated mid-term from highschool and enrolled in the Building Trades course at DMACC. He did not complete the course, but he did become a builder, learning by doing for nearly thirty years. My son, the builder.