Because You Turn 65 Only Once

The celebration seemed as good an excuse as any to be less conservative in my behavior -  and to wear a silly hat and wave a wand trimmed in pink mirabou feathers.  The day started on a sour note, but ended beautifully.  What more could one ask from a birthday?

In the clear light of the following morning, while brushing the sparklies from my hair, I was overcome by sensibility and rationality, far worse than any hangover I might have had in my life.  Now I had to be a somber, example-setting role model again - okay, okay - try to be.  My free-wheeling fun and silliness of the day before were becoming but a memory.

Albeit, a damned good one; to be brought out in the weeks and months ahead and savored; treasured, relived with wild abandon when life begins to get tedious again.  I started to write that the next milestone birthday would be my 70th, but following my quarterly check-up with my doctor the day after 65, I think every birthday from here on in will be a milestone.

Any excuse to wear a silly hat, I always say.

The Aristotle Window

This is the window I wrote about in earlier library posts.  No doubt, there are more spectacular pieces of stained glass art in the world, some even in the US, but this one lends a stately dignity and beauty to our library.  The artist was Raymond K. Perry.  He began designing and constructing the window in 1910.  Couldn't find much about Perry on Google.  Perhaps there is something in the library stacks about him; seems a logical place to start, eh?

The library's stained glass window is beautiful, especially when the afternoon sun shines upon it and the room is dappled in a rainbow of color.  It depicts Aristotle instructing a young Alexander, on his way to Greatness, I suppose.

The first image below shows the panel above Aristotle and his student.  The swastikas must have caused a terrible controversy post-WW2 because the library felt compelled at some point to produce an information sheet explaining that the swastika, as shown in the window, pre-dates the Nationalsozialistische Deutsche Arbeiterpartei by at least 2,000 years and is a part of ancient cultures around the world, including Native American tribes.

The final image is of the bottom panel of the window.  I don't know who Edward Etzler Young was, other than someone's beloved son who died in his youth.  The window was installed in 1911, when the library was completed - hence its original name, The Young Memorial Library. 

There you have it: all I know (at present) about the Aristotle Window.

Hello, from Computer #1

I soon should have my own Internet service back, probably by mid-August.  On the one hand, that's a good thing (I can sit at the desk in 'jammies - or not - and can bring food [though ought not, the way I spill stuff], and I can stay on the Internet visiting my favorite blogs all blinkin' night long), but I will miss the people around the computer table, an ever changing cast of fascinating characters if ever there was. 

Some days it's like a three-ring circus in here (like today), some days are quieter than a Quaker meeting, other days remind me of the tableaux in '20s and '30s night clubs; not that I was there, but from what I've seen in movies from the time. 

Today, there is a young man who reminds me of my grandson, who is autistic.  This boy seems to be in his late teens, physically, but exhibits the same distractedness as my grandson, speaks in a voice more like a 12 year old and giggles at the oddest things.  (Hmmmm...wait a sec...so do I, come to think of it.  Am I an Aspie, too?  If so, then cool beans!  I like seeing the world through a different set of glasses than everybody else.  So, you go, kid!  Enjoy your view of the world and giggle all you want.)  I think he's giggling about the fellow who took his chair up to the checkout desk, set it down on the counter and asked, "Why is this chair so low?  Every time I sit in it, it gets lower."

For some reason, the librarians are especially vocal this afternoon, something I'm not used to; but then things have changed quite a lot from the time when I was a kid and librarians shushed you for coughing.  (Daisy, if you read this, I know you aren't like that - the shushing kind, I mean.)

I meant to post a photo of the stained glass window I mentioned in the earlier post about the library, so will do that another time.  I left my photo thumb drive at home.  Turns out it wasn't done by Tiffany after all, but by the man who co-founded DC Comics, home of Superman, Batman, Green Lantern, Wonder Woman and others.  The DC line started out as illustrated crime/detective stories, in the style of graphic novels, but along came Superman and out went the detective/crime stories. 

Another thing I'll miss when I no longer need the library is all the books.  When I finish on the computer, I like to browse the stacks, to see what we have here.  It's the slow, tactile, hands-on, old-timers (that would be me) version of search engines.  I do the searching, the browsing.

Then, there are the drop-down, keyboard-hopping spider surprises.  No, there aren't any here at the library.  That's my point. 

I have a few more minutes at Computer #1, and I want to go read my favorite blogs, so - Adios, friends.  See you farther on down the line.

Oh, yeah!  The coffee.  The library offers premium grade coffee for their patrons, although we can't bring it to the computer table, a small bummer.  Yeah, I'm going to miss the coffee.

Okay...maybe I'll wean myself away from the library after I have the 'Net at home again.  Maybe for every posting I make at home, I'll come here and post three, or four, or more.  Yeah, that's the ticket.

Farmers Market: Last Images

She makes breakfast items - eggs, sausage, bacon, toast, breakfast sandwiches.

Father and son team make soft pretzels, pretzel sandwiches and pretzel dogs.  Pretzel dough is cut into circles, flattened into thin rounds then ham and cheese is sandwiched between the dough rounds - somewhat like a croque monsieur, only baked.  The wieners are wrapped in strips of dough, then baked.  I probably should have tried for a different angle on the dogs.

Of course, there are sweets, the kind that make your teeth ache just looking at them - from the gooey, pudding and whipped cream concoctions...

...to all sorts of candies.  There were dozens of items in the sweets category, but these are the only photos worth posting.

(C)2012, M. C. McLemore

Farmers Market: Not Locally Grown

The images below are from April. 

The contract with the borough all renters sign states that we must be open for business each day the Market is open and that we must sell what we stated we would in the contract.  Consequently, some of the farmers and fruit growers buy produce from area wholesalers in order to stay open and keep their stalls.  All the produce and fruit has to be grown in the United States, however.  Most of the warm weather and tropical fruit and vegetables come from Florida, Louisiana, Texas and California.  I think the pineapples are from Hawaii...or, maybe, California.
(C) 2012, M. C. McLemore

Huge cantaloupes (a.k.a. musk melons, down south).

Farmers Market: Local Greengrocers

When I went to Market in April, the local growers didn't have much in yet.  When I returned in June to take more photos, there were many more things on hand.  The first six images were taken in April; the remainder, in June.

I am embarrassed to say I have lost this farmer's name.  He owns one of the organic farms in the county and is very proud of that fact.  The greens and lettuces are from his farm, started in cold-frames then set out in the warm part of the beds.  Because we had such a warm, wet spring, the plants took off like a house afire.

A friendly, but camera shy Mennonite woman brought in asparagus from her farm.  Somebody else had the thin spears for sale a couple of stalls down from her, but I fancy fat spears.

These mushrooms are from Lancaster county, to our east.  The area is known throughout the state for its mushrooms, all kinds, but these are all that were ready in early April.

Beautiful spinach.

 Mrs. Mennonite also had early onions (scallions) on offer...

...and some of her pickled end-of-harvest veggies.  That's chow-chow relish third from the left.  Chow-chow is one of the seven-sour-seven-sweet pickles on their farm tables, especially at haying time, funerals and barn-raisings.  I don't think they put out that many for regular meals, though they might.

The following photos were taken in mid-June, when local produce became more readily available.

 New potatoes: Yukon Golds, I think.

 Zucchini wars!  One competitor's zukes are smaller, more tender, certainly fresher looking, and less expensive than...

...his competition right around the corner.  They all look good, but I bought from the first guy.

These next photos are all from the same farmer's stall.  His orchards are producing better this year, he said, than the last couple of years, due to the good weather we had this spring.

These are an early sweet cherry, the name of which I didn't write down.  I want to say Bing, but I'm not positive.

 This is a recently developed peach Mr. Tuckey's experimenting with in his orchards, called PF5.  It's supposed to mature early, produce heavily and early, and is sweeter than most early peaches.  It is a cling.  Too early, I learned, for freestones.

Root crops (turnips and beets), left in the ground and heavily mulched over last winter for an early spring crop.  Dug up and cleaned the day before market.

 Another early peach, Rich May, if I remember correctly.  I'll correct that, if I discover that isn't the name.  Another cling.

Queen Anne cherries, possibly Rainier, one of my favorite sweet cherries.  (I also favor Bings and sour cherries.  I think the sour cherry is Montgomery...I'll check.)

There are a couple of commercial 'farmers' stalls that I photographed because of how nicely the produce was arranged, but the produce was not locally grown.  I'll post a couple of those next.

(C) 2012, M. C. McLemore

Farmers Market: the Baker

This is Mrs. B, owner of Byer's Butterflake Bakery, and her granddaughter, who loves to come to Market with her grandmother.  I used to buy a pastry from her shop when I had a stall here, to have with one of the teas I had brewed for samples.  Good stuff, let me tell you.  Lots of Pennsylvania-Dutch treats, and so much more.

What I like about her cinnamon bread is that it's baked in pans that leave cutting marks along the loaf.  How convenient!  The loaves are loaded with cinnamon and make fantasic toast.

Despite it being only early April, she had several of this lovely, fragrant strawberry pie for sale.  (I think the berries are from Louisiana, maybe Florida.  Local berries don't start showing up until mid-May, usually.)  Those are key-lime pies in the background.



 Lemon sponge pies above, and springtime-themed sugar cookies below - flowers, chicks, Easter eggs.  Oh, how I wished I had brought money along that day!  Mrs. B also makes the best shoo-fly pies I've ever had, but that photo didn't turn out well enough to post.  Another day, perhaps.

I returned a couple of weeks later, with wallet, and bought one of what Mrs. B calls molasses cakes.  I call it delicious, soft, and wonderful with a cup of coffee from the corner mini-mart.  I justified the purchase by telling myself that I had burned off most of the calories in the cookie...uh, cake...by all the walking I'd done that morning.  Hey, that's my story and I'm sticking to it, okay?  Okay.

(C) 2012 M. C. McLemore

Farmers Market: the Butcher

This is where I was headed the day I took the photos in the last post; our local Farmers Market.  It was too early for much local produce to be in, but there are lots of things to buy, nonetheless.

 Mrs. Nell is now the matriarch of the family that owns the only remaining butcher shop at Market.  When I had my tea stand here, fifteen years ago, there were two butchers.  The Nells' shop is now into its fourth generation offerings meats and meat products.  All the family shows up to help, including the teenagers. 

The gentleman she is sharing a laugh with is John B, an architect in town.  He's working on the renovations to the carriage house at the Warehime-Myers Mansion, which will eventually house a gift shop, our library and research center and my new office.

I think these are free to dog owners, because there was no price tag to be found.  Mostly beef leg bones, there are a few pork legs in there, as well.  I considered picking one up the next time I was in, until I realized they were mostly gristle and sinew, which dogs go crazy over, but probably not so good for soup, or a pot of beans.  I'll have to ask Mrs. Nell.

 They sell everything but the moo, the squeal, the gobble-gobble and the cock-a-doodle-doo.  Freshly cut the day before.  Made me wish I had brought my wallet with me.

These are seriously dry, salt-cured ham steaks, the kind you should soak in successive cold-water baths before cooking.  My Dad used to refer to this as shoe-leather ham, but he loved it.  Also called country ham.  In our house, the drippings from a fried slice of this would become red-eye gravy: remove the ham, discard all but about a quarter cup of the drippings, then add a cup or so of hot coffee, and be sure to scrape all the fond off the bottom.  Best served over steaming grits.

There are more pics from the butcher shop, but I'm trying to keep these posts short.

Next up: the Baker.
(C) 2012, M C McLemore