Walking the Walk

Easter Saturday, one gorgeous afternoon. Days like this are a gift to be savored like the first bite of that chocolate bunny sitting in the basket. Oh those ears are always too tempting.

With a writing project put to bed this morning, it was time to see what has been happening around the lake since the last time the weather allowed an enjoyable stroll. Winter comes early up here and spring comes late. Very late. We might see some leaves on the trees around Memorial Day. While back home in Jersey, the daffodils are already smiling, at the lake there isn't even a hint of green popping up.

There is however, a bright blue sky filled with cotton ball clouds. Its color is in stark contrast to the decaying leaves and occasional piles of snow still lingering. With a temperature in the low 50s, time to grab the camera, the pen, the notebook and the phone and go on the road to find out.

Not a quarter mile away, the music shuffle pulled up the Beatles doing "Good Day Sunshine." Seriously, you can't make this shit up. Another half mile and two boys on bikes, around eight years old I would think, rode towards me. One had already removed his sweatshirt and was riding in a Tee, yes spring is here. Through my sunglasses I watched them as they biked closer. Big smiles on their faces... it was that kind of day. The one in the t-shirt gave me a big wave as he approached, which kind of surprised me and made me happy at the same time. I gave him a big smile as I waved back. Hopefully in another couple of years, he will still be sweet enough to wave at someone else who is enjoying the moment just as much as he.

Not too many changes around the lake in the past month or so. A couple of new homes are getting close to being finished, a lot of weekenders are up for the holiday. Everyone is beginning the new chapter of spring cleanup. But for me and a couple of kids on bikes, it was a time to clear out the cobwebs in our minds. Time to embrace the changing season and time to just... smile.

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Before The Egg Hunt, There Were The Eggs

When I was little, really little, my dad used to color Easter eggs. Not the ones with the vegetable dye in the pastel colors. No, he created works of art. He practiced pysanky, the Ukranian version of coloring eggs.

I think he would start early in February. There wasn't much room in our house, so he had a makeshift area set up in my parent's bedroom. I remember everything came in paper packets. The different colored dyes were powdered and he mixed them in a vinegar and water solution, if I remember correctly. There were jars, saved throughout the year, of just the right size. The stylus he used to draw, the beeswax used to make the design and the candle. And the eggs of course.

He would sit and work with a small desk lamp. How the process worked was he would think up a design, heat the stylus, which was no more than an open-ended metal cone wired onto a stick. He would then take the heated stylus and rub it against the beeswax, melting it enough to drop into the cone. Then he would heat the cone and the wax would flow out of a tiny hole at the tip.

Whatever pattern he wanted to stay white, he would cover with the wax. When he was done with white, he would dip the egg in yellow or pink dye. You went from lighter colors to darker colors. He would then cover with wax everything he wanted to be in that color. Then dip the egg into the next color. The processed was repeated until you got to the final color of black. At this point, the egg was nearly covered in black wax.

Then came the best part. Holding the egg in one hand and a soft cloth in another, he would hold the egg close to the flame to melt the wax and wipe it off. And like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon, the beautiful design that only he knew in his head, was unveiled. For me, it was magic.

My mother had some of his eggs, but my aunt bought a lot of them. He sold them for $1 each. How funny is that. When my aunt passed away a few years ago, those eggs were the one thing I wanted to get back. The above picture shows some of them. I gave the other half to my brother and at some point I know my niece will have all the eggs... in one basket. Hopefully, they will be passed down another generation or two before the story, just like their once bright colors have faded.

Miss you Pops.

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This Is What Happens When You Listen To A Rodent

Are y'all happy now? Just like every year, you put your faith in a freakin' rodent. And most years his prognosticating is ignored after two or so weeks have passed. But not this year. This year the furball screwed up big time and no one is too happy about it.

Did I mention how much I hate Ground Hog Day? I once knew someone born on February 2nd and always thought with the exception of being born on February 29th, there wasn't a worse birth date. Because it's all about the ground hog.

This year the Pennsylvania rodent, the one who seems to have the most clout, was yanked out of his nice warm home and waved around like a grand prize in county fair. Where's PETA when you need them? Well the human idiots in their long coats and big hats decided that Phil had seen his shadow. Or maybe he didn't, but anyway, the human idiots declared that spring was right around the corner.

So here we are on March 24 and it's snowing like a bastard over half of the country and I will be shoveling the white stuff tomorrow. Happy I am not.

Apparently neither is Michael Gmoser, an Ohio county prosecutor, who has filed an injunction against poor old Phil for the misrepresentation of an early spring. He goes on to state that the rodent has committed an unclassified felony when he emerged from his burrow and didn't see his shadow. Or maybe he did.

Are you fuckin kidding me? This prosecutor is wasting court time with this? First of all, Phil didn't do anything, it was the human idiots doing their yearly grandstanding. They should be held liable for any ill-advised weather reporting. Or better yet, why don't we all just get lives and let Phil live his in peace and quiet.

If we would stop thinking a sleeping ground hog held the balance of a few weeks of our lives in his rodent hands, we could just go back to listening to the real weather forecasters with all their radar and dopler and forecast models. Because they're always right.... er, no they suck too.

Oh just look out the damn window. See any flakes yet?

Doodle: A Story, A Book, A Chance To Help

The one really great thing about writing a blog is I can do anything I want with it. Now for those of you who stop by on a regular basis, I tend to complain. A lot. Alright, I tend to bitch about almost everything.

But not today.

Today I'm going to try to use the Force to do a little good. And I hope some of you will join in and help too.

A little over a year ago I really started getting involved with my blogs and subsequently, involved with other bloggers. Some of them I'm now proud to call friends. Some I've met, some I just know online, but it has been a real fun ride getting to know them and to read them.

One of my friends, Jim Wood, has written a children's book. Jim's friend Michele has done the illustrations. It's the story of a little girl and a dog and a life journey. But more about that later. Ashley is the fourteen-year-old daughter of Michele Quinn's close family friend. Ashley has been critically ill and in and out of the hospital for the last four months. All personal proceeds from the online sales of the book, "Doodle" from now until May will be donated to Ashley's Army.

So here's what I'm thinking. Well, first of all, buy a book. Or better yet, buy more than one. Even if you don't have a child, buy one. I did. You can buy one or more, and give it to a child you may know. Or donate it to your public library, school library, pediatric department of your local hospital, or just use your imagination.

Jim is a good guy, that much I know. He works hard for his family and for his craft. This is his first published book and its profits are being used to help someone else. It's not a lot of money, only $7 and with its profits going toward helping a family with a sick little girl, it's money well spent.

Doodle is a rhyming book told from the view of a little girl as she and her dog explore the world around them and wonder how things were made. Purchase a copy at: https://www.createspace.com/3555995


Here's the link to read more about the story of how Doodle came to be: The Story of Doodle
The Doodle facebook page
Jim Wood's website: Go Jimmy Go

Please share or tweet or repost this blog to anyone and everyone you know. Let's just see what we can do.

From me, Jim, Michele and Ashley... Thanks.

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This Is Why I Don't Go Out In The Daytime

So I needed to bring the Subaru up to the dealer for a little service which was under warranty. This dealership is about a half hour drive up Rt. 17 in Bergen County NJ. For the most part the road is the highway to hell for six days a week when the malls are open. The only day of peace is Sunday when under the county's archaic blue laws, the stores are closed.

Knowing I didn't want to be anywhere on this road during retail hours, I scheduled the service appointment for 7:30. But of course it's been snowing since yesterday afternoon; luckily not much is really accumulating. So here I am, out in the world on a weekday morning. I know for most of you that is a normal day, but I should be having my second cup of tea and catching up with the overnight internet world.

What I am doing is getting agitated. Yes, the dealership has wifi so I am still connected with the world, but it also has "other people" here. And the woman next to me is playing Song Pop, or whatever the hell that shit is. This is what it is... annoying. The dealership is cool, they have piped in music...right now Mumford and Sons is playing. They also have a nice TV which they switched on and is currently showing the History Channel. Apparently none of us here really care what's on. Then I have missy next to me playing Song Pop. I am being overloaded by sound. Especially those electronic noises coming from this bitch's phone.

How long I ask, how long before I say "excuse me"  hmm.
And I'm getting hungry. This could go downhill very quickly.

Oh look, my car is ready.

And tomorrow is Spring. Life is good.
Sometimes.
Right now I have a headache.
Going home.
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