Possibly one of the most spiritually advanced and personality building code is The Native American Code of Ethics that was originally published in the Inter-Tribal Times in October 1994. It’s a Code of Ethics that teaches everybody, American or not, how to live their lives in the best way. It’s fascinating to note that most of these teachings are reflected in other beliefs and faith as well. I mentioned these in a Blog back in 2018, I think it’s time to put them out there again.
1. Rise with the sun to pray. Pray alone and often. The Great Spirit will listen only if you speak.
2. Be tolerant of the people who are lost on their path. Ignorance, jealousy, anger, and greed stem from a lost soul. Pray that they’ll find guidance.
3. Search for yourself, by yourself. Don’t allow others to create your path for you. It’s your road and yours alone. Others might walk it with you, but nobody can walk it for you.
4. Treat your guests in your home with consideration. Serve them the best food, offer them your best bed and treat them with respect and honor.
5. Don’t take what isn’t yours either from a person, community or culture. It wasn’t earned nor given. It isn’t yours.
6. Respect every little thing placed upon the earth.
7. Honor other people’s thoughts, desires, and words. Let each person express themselves.
8. Never speak of others in a mean way. The negative energy you put out into the universe is going to multiply when it returns to you.
9. All people make mistakes. And all mistakes can be forgiven.
10. Negative thoughts cause illness of the mind, body, and soul. Practice optimism.
11. Nature is not FOR us, but a PART of us. Animals, plants and every other living creature are all part of our worldly family.
12. Children are the seeds of our future. You need to plant love in their hearts and shower them with wisdom and precious life’s lessons. When they’re grown, give them space to mature.
13. Avoid hurting other people’s heart. The poison of the pain you cause will return to you.
14. Be honest at all times. Honesty and truthfulness are the tests of one’s will within this world.
15. Keep yourself balanced. Work out the body to empower the mind. Grow rich in spirit to cure emotional pain.
16. Make conscious decisions regarding who you’ll be and how you’ll react. Be responsible for your actions.
17. Respect the privacy and personal space of those around you. Don’t touch the personal property of others – especially holy and religious objects. That’s forbidden.
18. Be true to yourself first. You can’t nurture and help others unless you can nurture and help yourself first.
19. Respect others religious beliefs. Don’t try to force your beliefs on other people.
20. Share your good fortune with others. Also, participate in charity.
I’m In Connecticut as I write this. My first trip back home since December 2019. Gathered around the table last night, we were having a conversation about appropriateness in what we say, especially in light of recent demonstrations around the country. My daughter in law Beth added much to making our granddaughters strong women. Our son Matthew said ” Should I say something inappropriate you need to let him know. On that I certainly concur. I’m close to 80 yo, help me out here people. This morning the following post came across regarding White Privilege. Worth a read if you want to change your thought process. https://marquettewire.org/4033765/featured/garner-a-letter-to-white-people/
In closing I must mention that our girls are no longer looked over by their Rooster, Gregory Peck was his name. Gregory kind of got a hair up his butt, I guess that would actually be a feather. Gregory decided he was going to go the way of a rooster from back in the day, Saddam Hussein was his name. He had become an Attack Rooster over the past few weeks. One evening while gathering eggs and locking the chickens in for the night, Mary Agnes was attacked. Bruises and broken skin were received on her legs prior to making a quick escape to safety. Over the past two weeks, yours truly was involved in multiple bouts of of defensive maneuvers to avoid death.
I decided last week, Gregory needed to go to camp. Perhaps he could meet up with a turkey and they could have Turchickens. I went so far to make a funnel lead-in to a pet cage, much like getting cattle to a pen. I have a 2×2 plastic square on a pole to help them all into the hutch at night if needed and used this to heard the #@&%**# into the pen. Not to be. The SOB turned on me, got airborne towards my face with claws outstretched, “Swat,” he backed off. He came and he came as I exited the pen to safety. After a brief conversation with Mary Agnes, and her blessing, it was agreed that the demise of Gregory Peck would take place. Suffice it to say, the end was swift and humane. Peace and tranquility has returned to their 80 x 22 ft free range pen. The girls are happy, refeathering at the tail end and egg production abounds. May Gregory RIP with Saddam!
Don’t forget to check on the elderly!
I follow https://jacklimpert.com We have several things in common, he’s from Appleton, Wisconsin, Mary Agnes and I attended a wedding there some years ago for a cousin of hers. The Fox river flows North from Appleton, WI, an interesting river it is. The Connecticut River flows from Canada to Long Island sound. We lived in Connecticut years ago.
Jack has written in the Washington Post, I read the Washington Post daily.
He served in the Air Force.
I have a daughter, son in-law, granddaughter and her husband, grandson, nephew, and cousin who all served or are serving in the Air Force. After two years on active duty as an enlisted airman, our grandson Thomas has been selected to attend the U.S. Air Force Academy as a member of the class of 2025. Congratulations Tommy, he reports to the Academy on 24 June, 2021. I served in the USMC and CT NG back during the days of horses and muskets.
Jack Limpert was editor of The Washingtonian magazine from 1969 to 2009—he now is a writer-at-large. He was born in Appleton, Wisconsin, served in the U.S. Air Force, received a B.S. from the University of Wisconsin, and for a year attended the Stanford University Law School.
He started in journalism in 1960 with United Press International, working in Minneapolis, St. Louis, and Detroit. In 1964 he became editor of the Warren (Michigan) Progress, and then became editor of the San Jose (California) Sunpapers. In 1967 he went to Washington, D.C., to start a weekly newspaper, the Washington Examiner.
In 1968 he was a Congressional Fellow in the office of Vice President Hubert H. Humphrey and traveled extensively in the Humphrey-Nixon presidential campaign. After finishing the fellowship, he joined the staff of The Washingtonian.
As a writer, he won an American Political Science Association award for distinguished reporting in public affairs. As an editor, he has received the Distinguished Service in Local Journalism Award from the Society of Professional Journalists, and during his tenure The Washingtonian won five National Magazine Awards from the American Society of Magazine Editors. He also won an Emmy for his contributions to the HBO movie Something the Lord Made. He has received a Lifetime Achievement Award from the City and Regional Magazine Association, and he has been inducted into the Washington Journalists Hall of Fame.
He is married to Jean Limpert, a pharmacist, and they have two daughters: Ann is the wine and food editor of The Washingtonian, and Jeannie is a physician at the U.S. Food and Drug Administration.
Copyright © 2021 Jack Limpert
From The Writer’s Almanac: Just something I frequent from time to time.
American novelist Francine Prose, born on 1 April, 1947 in Brooklyn NY. She is best known for her novels Household Saints, about an Italian butcher and his schizophrenic daughter, and Blue Angel, a witty and dark satire on academia and writing workshops.
Prose graduated from Radcliffe College, but dropped out of graduate school after reading Gabriel García Márquez’s novel One Hundred Years of Solitude, which inspired her to write in earnest. Her first novel, Judah the Pious, was published in 1973, and she’s gone on to write over 30 books of fiction and nonfiction, including two young adult books, Touch and The Turning.
Prose is a frequent reviewer of books for New York Review of Books and teaches at Bard College. She wrote a best-selling book on the craft of writing, Reading Like a Writer, in which she advises would-be writers to read widely. She said, “The advantage of reading widely, as opposed to trying to formulate a series of general rules, is that we learn there are no general rules, only individual examples to help point you in a direction in which you might want to go.”
Her best-selling novel, Lovers at the Chameleon Club, Paris 1932, was inspired by a series of photographs by Hungarian-French photographer Brassai. The novel features a cross-dressing heroine, auto-racing, and the backdrop of Jazz Age Paris. Pablo Picasso makes an appearance, as do several other real-life artists. Prose doesn’t consider it a historical novel, saying, “To be perfectly honest, by the time I got through writing the novel — five years — I was no longer precisely sure how much was ‘real’ and how much I’d made up. I see the book as a contemporary novel that happens to be set in the past.”
Granddaughter Samatha and Husband Zed, Air Force Captains presently serving with NATO in Germany and living in The Netherlands have both been selected for Major. Congrats to the two of you.
Sams latest FB post. – 2 June, 2021
Today was a bittersweet day. In the military you’re lucky to hold the same position for a year, I had the chance to hold the same position for 3! It was my final day in the office as the Services Branch head (think party planner/hospitality management/mass feeding/postal/store clerk/and for the past year+ Covid coordinator) at NATO AB GK. This job has tried me in so many ways, but it has strengthened me in even more. The team I got to work with was truly diverse (16+ nationalities, military, NATO civilian, local national, and contractors) and taught me so many things. This was a one in a million experience and I am so grateful for every member of the team for supporting for me the past 3yrs. I am so excited to see the amazing things they will accomplish as the area begins to come out of COVID ops.Good news! My next position is still on base so now I get to be their customer.
Get your Covid shot? If not and you’re reading this, there’s still time.
Travels with Harrison
I must start with a happening yesterday (April 5, 2021) with my Buddy Harrison. Yesterday we drove S on Rt 13 from Carroll St, we were heading to our Dr.’s office to drop off copies of our Covid-19 shot records. I try to accomplish tasks like this when Harrison and I are together. We turn onto to Rt. 13 and I’m asked, “where are we going now?” I explain where we are going and the reason for the trip. “Oh” is all I get for any come-back. The office is on Power st. adjacent to SU’s stadium (Salisbury University). I pull to the Left Turn Lane at Bateman St just as the light turns red. We sit there for several minutes as the lights go through their sequences. Finally, the arrow turns green for a left turn. As I start my turn after ensuring it is safe to do so I get this from my companion. “Hey, what are you doing, I was watching that show.” You see, SU has a highly graphic video billboard at this location and some Lacrosse video from the previous days game was playing. At least that’s what I think it was. “I say I’m sorry and we continue on our way. “ Now where are we going,” my companion asks. “To my Dr’s office to drop off our Covid 19 shot records,” I say.
We had lunch today at a local Brew Pub, “Tall Tales Brewing Company” is it’s name. It is one of many Harrison favorites for food. On this day we settled on Cheeseburgers, one of Harrison’s all time favorites. They serve it with a nice Kosher Pickle wedge, my partner dislikes Pickles, a bonus for me. Driving out of the parking lot we happened to notice a well preserved 1957 Chevrolet in the parking lot.
The Mrs. has been busy with her quilting lately. It seems the Young’ns keep reproducing. She whips out these Rag Quilts pretty quickly. Snipping the edges leaves threads throughout the house, easy tracking for the Indians.
We remain at 12, 11 girls and their security Gregory Peck. So far Gregory, a Barred Rock is doing a good job of looking out for his girls. I’ve read a story or two of this breed being a bit cantankerous at times. One writer on Backyard Chickens said her rooster was so bad it made it into a pot and became Sunday dinner. That bird had apparently made a fondness of nipping at the heels of those who fed him. Playing Ring-Around-the Coop nipping at her was the last straw. We had one years back that was so mean we named him Saddam Hussein.
So far, so good with this crew. We are even sharing a dozen or so eggs with the kids from time to time.
Two year Airmen accepted to USAFA
Our grandson Thomas has been accepted into the class of 2025 at the United States Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs. He has had a great mentor in his Aunt Kathy, Air Force enlisted, Naval Officer, Retired Air Force Reserve Major. Tommy presently is an Airmen 1’st Class and works on F-18 Jet Propulsion Systems @ Seymour Johnson AFB in Goldsborough, NC.
Pentagon accuses Fox News host of demeaning U.S. military with anti-woman segment
I share with you a post from Facebook that was posted by my granddaughter.
I have had the honor of serving in the United States military for the past 13 years including my time at a service academy. I have had the privilege to create 4 lives while serving. I have been supported by my leadership and loved by my family. I am a proud military female who is motivated to continue serving to prove to the naysayers that it is the soldier.
“It is the soldier, not the reporter, who has given us freedom of the press.
It is the soldier, not the poet, who has given us freedom of speech.
It is the soldier, not the campus organizer, who has given us the freedom to demonstrate.
It is the soldier, not the lawyer, who has given us the right to a fair trial.
It is the soldier, who salutes the flag, who serves beneath the flag, and whose coffin is draped by the flag, who allows the protester to burn the flag.”
Father Denis Edward O’Brien
Just today, It’s Monday the first day in February in the year 2021, I read a fellow blogger’s Blog. She started her blog by writing the following. My blogger friends, do you find you often blog in your mind, but never quite get it to the keyboard state?
Well, let me tell you, I do this all the time. Earlier today my wife finished a quilt and I had the task of taking that quilt to the women who will put it on a Long Arm and finish it for her. We have no Long Arm but we do have a Quilting frame. The Mrs. has made many a quilt on that frame over the years.
I recently saw a Bernina Long Arm machine listed for $20,499.00. Our quilting frame purchased over 20 years ago was $360.00.
Rambling thoughts herein lie. Just wanted to impart a bit of the wonderful work my wife does and the machines that can finish those works of art off.
So, I’m driving on the Bypass with this quilt, it’s cold outside, more snow on the way. What, you had snow you ask. Yes, here on the Eastern Shore of Maryland we got several inches yesterday. The first measurable snow in 706 days. It is reported that we shall get more tonight. I should write about that I thought. I’ll start with ‘HEADLINE, NO SNOW IN 706 DAYS.” That will attract an audience I think to myself.
I’m listening to the radio, Oldies channel, https://kool1043.com if your ever traveling in or around Salisbury, MD and enjoy the oldies. They give you little tidbits such as: This Day in Music History – 1962 – Warner Bros. Records signed Peter, Paul & Mary. 1966 – The Bobby Fuller Four’s “I Fought The Law” was released. 1969 – The “Glen Campbell Goodtime Hour” debuted on CBS-TV. 1972 – David Bowie performed as “Ziggy Stardust” for the first time. 1972 – Smokey Robinson left The Miracles. 1979 – Emerson, Lake […] etc. I’m sure you get the point so I’ll get back to my point. I was putting out a Blog in my head.
On November 9, 1965 the United States had a Black Out affecting all of the state of New York and parts of seven neighboring states. chaos prevailed, 800,000 people were stranded in the NY subways. Thousands more were stuck in elevators and trains. Just setting the scene here folks.
This writer was a young Marine Sergeant assigned at the time to USNAD Earle, NJ, a Naval ammunition Depot. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Naval_Weapons_Station_Earle
I’m in the Guard Bunker at that facility, I have fellow Marines under my command out on posts, some fixed, some mobile, some in vehicles on roaming patrols. One fixed post on that November evening held a Marine in a Tower overlooking all the bunkers under our watchful eyes that held some powerful ordinance.
I have the radio on, “You’ve got that Loving Feeling,” by the Righteous Brothers is playing and the young Marine in that tower radio’s down to me, “Hey Sarge, NY City has disappeared. Yep, here I am driving the bypass 02/01/21 and I’m back in the moment. It was then that I said, I’ve got to write that in a Blog. Thanks Chrissie, you’ve inspired me.
Then, at precisely 5:21 p.m. Eastern Standard Time, everything went black.
It was Nov. 9, 1965. And suddenly, from Pennsylvania to southern Canada, through parts of New York, New Jersey, Connecticut, Rhode Island and northern New England, right up into Ontario, more than 30 million North Americans were without power.
It was the Great Northeast Blackout.
Many people were swept up with the fear that the Russians had attacked and the U.S. was in the throes of World War III. Others felt it was a realistic version of the classic “War of the Worlds,” with alien beings to blame for the widespread power outage upon their arrival on earth.
The hubbub was caused, ironically enough, by a faulty relay estimated by one source as “probably a two-dollar piece of machinery” at the mammoth Niagara-Mohawk Power Plant in upstate New York. Such a minute wrinkle made it sound all the more like H.G. Wells’ fictional “War,” an example of the tiniest of things creating the biggest nuisance.
In New York City, some 800,000 people were stranded in underground subways, while thousands more were trapped for the duration in elevators. Johnny Carson, in his “Tonight Show” monologue, quipped that in nine months, all over the East Coast, mothers would be giving birth and wistfully naming their sons Otis.
For the record, during the week of Aug. 9-15 of 1966 – nine months later – a total of 14 births were registered at Henry Heywood Memorial Hospital.
While many areas – including New York City – were without power for several days, the Greater Gardner area experienced a grand total of two hours and 57 minutes in the dark.
As the blackout hit, emergency generators were pressed into action and continued well past the hour when all power was restored to the area. As the lights went out, on came the candles, kerosene lamps and flashlights.
The very next day would be the 190’th Birthday of the Marine Corps.
Blogging is a great way to pass time during this the Covid Pandemic, there’s plenty of space between me and my readers. Now I’ve written that Blog I thought about and I’ve shared with you a moment in time during the life of The Rooster. Be safe my friends. Oh yes, thanks Chrissie for giving me the impetus to write this. Fall softly, save those knees. It only took me 11 more days to get this out. By the way, when we awoke this morning, 4 inches of snow.
Recently while sitting at our dining area table, my wife and I were reminiscing about our years of growing up. As you get older, you tend to reflect back a lot to days gone by. I call them: Do you remember moments. We are both in our 70s and have a lot of years we can reflect on.
To set the stage a bit, my parents were married during the early days of WW 2, I appeared shortly there after. By 1946 they had separated. Fortunately for me, they were both from the same town on the Jersey side of Philadelphia. Ferry boats were still in use back then, transporting folks over the Delaware River. I would get to see my father every week as well as my fraternal grandparents. There were not a lot of large gatherings at their dinner table. The table was in the kitchen up against a wall and made of metal. Two meals each week never varied. Friday nights was always Oyster Stew or fish, (Yuk.) Saturday meals were always Hot Dogs and Baked Beans, (Toot-Toot.)
My parents were young when married. When the war started, my father was already in the Army. He spent time in the Philippines, and I’m thinking once he came home, the glowing flame of a youthful romance was no longer there. Neither parent ever spoke of negatives about the other. I was fortunate that I was equally shared and held accountable for my actions by both, neither parent would ever put down the other.
My mother and I would share a second-floor apartment in the home of my maternal Great-grandparents. My father would move back into the same bedroom he was raised in with his parents. We were separated by railroad tracks and less than a mile. I would spend a lot of time at both homes. Also, one block away was my maternal grandparents and an aunt. I was loved, spoiled, and watched over by caring relatives.
My wife grew up less than an hour away in Wilmington, Delaware, 36 miles as the crow flies. She was #4 of 5 children whose parents stayed together forever. She had three older brothers and a younger sister. Most of her family’s relatives were in NE Pennsylvania; the family would spend a lot of time visiting that neck of the woods. In her life also, the Dining Room Table would be the gathering place in Wilmington as well as Freeland, PA. Neighbors would constantly drop in at the Wilmington location. My wife remembers one family in particular that timed their visit at dinner time, quite frequently in fact. Not wanting to be rude, they were always invited to stay, and they did. Yes sir E. Bob, “back in the day,” I like to say.
There were not a whole lot of electronic diversions back in the late 40s, early 50s. TV was just getting going and we didn’t have one. I do remember going next door to see Howdy Doody at 5:00 pm. That show came on the air in 1947 and ran until 1960. The folks who allowed me to watch the show would ultimately be the parents of my step-father when my mother remarried. On occasion, I would carry my dinner over with me and watch the show at the dining room table. Looking back, this was a strange place to have a TV by today’s standards. I might add that this home was a strict Methodist facility. Once my mother married their son, Methodist standards took hold. No card playing or sports or rowdiness on Sundays, ever.
Here’s a look back at Granny W’s old-time dining table . This was the table at my maternal grandmother’s home. This home was a Lutheran home. That dining room table would host holiday meals for many years as well as other celebratory events. I can remember having to sit around and listen to whatever it was old people talked about back then. I vividly recall the Truman – Dewey presidential race being discussed. That was November 3,1948, and I was not yet six years of age. Truman won in an upset, by the way. All the newspapers reported Dewey the winner. Yep folks there was even fake news at the time. Many a card game, money on the table, cigar smoke in the air was the norm during a lot of get gatherings.
That Granny “W” could cook, and the aroma of the evening meal would hit you in the face the minute you walked into the house. She had a big part in raising me. Her dining room table was quite large. It had substantial sculpted legs with Gargoyles or something similer on them. Over the table was a chandelier encircled with gold-threaded fringe. Our children still remember being scolded for flicking that fringe. So I’m thinking, does that mean children were always on the fringe while the adults conversed?
The atmosphere at this table was much more jovial than the Methodist table. Many Aunts and Uncles would be in attendance. My grandmother would always have some Mogen David wine in the cupboard. For the men, it was Schmidt’s of Philadelphia beer. What a contrast between the two tables. I’m thinking about the difference between Lutherans and Methodists. I’m sure that’s politically incorrect in this day and age. I’ll call this the happy table and the other the stuffy table.
I would spend many hours at this table listening, trying to picture places and events that were talked about. When I was sent off to bed, I would listen to more stories at the keyhole in the door. Often talk would center around my great-grandfather, and the time he traveled with a Wild West show in the early 1900s. He was a Gun-Smith and kept the show’s weapons functioning. I could really close my eyes and place myself in those days of old. High-O-Siver, away! My grandmothers brother was often in attendance and would tell stories about his life as an Engineer on the Pennsylvania Railroad. I often would dream of riding the rails in the Caboose.
Yes, back in the day there were many things other than electronics to keep a boys mind imagining. I sure did like playing Cowboys and Indians. Thanks to that dining room table, I could place myself in the moment.
Semper Fi theRooster
Travels with Harrison on 12/21/2020
We two have been traveling and dining companions for over a year now. No trip has ever been the same, even if the place traveling to was driven before. Travels were such on this day as we found ourselves heading to Crisfield, MD. On this day, as are most, we headed first on a trash run. As we depart the house through the garage, I notice numerous tied trash bags and paper bags with recyclables sitting at the base of the slalom course that serves as a ramp for Harrison and his walker. I’ve often wondered why it’s not called a wheeler, as it’s something you wheel along in front of you.
Harrison is forever in amazement with the recently built Round-About which graces the intersections of, Camden, Riverside, Carroll and Mill streets in Salisbury. This section of roadway always leads to conversation about the Netherlands and that countries many roundabouts. Harrison’s father emigrated to the United State from the Netherlands back around the turn of the century. This time last year we were in the Netherlands as well as a host of other countries in the general area. On one day’s trip from Garmisch, Germany to the Netherlands we hit Austria, Switzerland, Lichtenstein and France. Most of that trip while traveling through the Alps was in a snow storm.
Let me get back to our trip to Crisfield. At five miles outside of the city we notice a combination bike and walking trail all paved and running parallel to Rt. 413. With Harrison being eighty eight years young, and me only ten years behind him we pass on parking at the beginning of this trail and choose to drive into town. With age comes common sense.
We drive around town, check out the waterfront and hit a few neighborhoods. There has been a lot of rain the past few months and many properties not usually waterfront, are now so. There is not a whole lot of high ground on Maryland’s Eastern Shore, especially in Crisfield, The Blue Crab Capitol of the world.
There were few restaurants open on this cold dreary day so we settled on a McDonald’s. With a Cheeseburger being my partners favorite meal of choice, how could we go wrong. Well folks, let me tell you, it was not to be a Cheeseburger, no sir, not on this day. A big old sign said “Back by popular demand, The McRib sandwich.”
If you never had one of these, wear a bib, old clothes, get plenty of napkins, wet paper towels and look for a shower near by. There was enough Sweet Baby Ray’s likened sauce on this baby to float a small boat, or at least a Gator. The two of us made a contest out of who would win the sticky finger, shirt, pants contest. Harrison won this contest and yours truly came in a close second. Thank you Lord for the bountiful backpack with wet naps in it. This is something not to order if eating in your vehicle.
We took a circuitous route back to Salisbury while avoiding main roads. I’m forever requested to turn onto a road after I hear “I wonder where that goes?” It was another adventure that would fill a page in the Journal I keep daily, especially my days with Harrison. I would get my buddy home safe, we would give his beloved Sylvia a recount of our day and especially our McRib adventure.
On this date, our last in the infamous 2020, I have only a few pages left to fill in my Journal. I remain vertical, as does my wife and all those close to me. Mask up my readers, be safe and I’ll see you next year.
Happy New Year
I was meaning to get this out on Monday last, as often happens life got in the way. Just a busy week is all, nothing earth shattering. Monday was spent with my eighty-eight year old friend. When he and I get out, his Mrs. gets a chance to get some personal things done. On this day we traveled north to the town of Ellendale, DE and the Bella Terra Nursery. Being on the safe side we dined Take-Out, Chic-Fil-A fit the bill on Monday. With November coming to an end, I spent time on those Bills that seem to come in each month. The Hutch with the new (7 week old now) chicks needed some tending to, and I started to fence in a run for them. Gotta keep those hostile critters out. I got some PT in on my healing L/knee, old meniscus tear had been acting up. Nothing like cold damp Eastern Shore weather to bring out the worse in man and beast. Wednesday was quite important, in American Football the Baltimore Ravens were playing the Pittsburgh Steelers
Pittsburgh Steelers in a game delayed by Covid interference three different times. Saturday night was the annual WYC Boat Parade on the Wicomico River.
So, here I am a week late, but better late than never is what they say. Who are THEY, my eldest child would ask. Someone’s always has to be accountable, enjoy my friends.
We’ve dined, dined again, had eaten deserts and over indulged, now it’s time to slow the bulge.
I was trying Keto for a week or two, Thanksgiving arrived and I was through. I looked at my plate as I walked through the line, mostly Carbs were on that plate of mine.
Stuffing, Mac and Cheese, creamy potatoes and French style beans, there I was fulfilling my dreams. I passed on a drumstick and went with the white, smothered in gravy to smooth down the flight, what was I to experience, later that night?
With Covid around we worried a lot, were we too close, we worried not. The lord gave us warmth of 70 degrees, windows all open and a God given breeze. We ate and rejoiced and there wasn’t a sneeze. Ten days later we’re out of the woods, no one infected with those horrid goods.
Several years ago thirty two places were set, one of our busier Thanksgiving’s yet. With six in the Netherlands stuck in their home, we had no little ones around to roam. Many were missed and thought of with love. For now we are well and trying our best, to remain far apart, from all of the rest.
One holiday down with so many alone, who will have Santa enter their home? For you who read these words I’ll pray, that together again we will feast and play.
Cheers to you my reader friends, Christ was the beginning, not the end.
If you do nothing else, remember the task, in close proximity wear that mask.
The Nursing Notes for Shoo-Fly Pie
After following the recipe to a “T”, this is our final written word.
Line 2 pie pans with pie crust
- 3 cups of flour, 1 cup of Brown Sugar, (may use white) a generous 1/2 cups of shortening ( I split 1/2 Lard – 1/2 Butter) Mix with fingers till it resembles fine crumbs. Reserve 1 cup of crumbs to put on top of pie.
2. To the remaining crumbs add one teaspoon of cinnamon and one teaspoon of nutmeg.
3. Dissolve 1/2 teaspoon of Baking Soda in 1/2 teaspoon of Vinegar.
4. Mix together 1 cup of Dark Molasses with 1 cup of boiling water, add dissolved Baking Soda and Vinegar to Molasses mixture.
5. Add all to crumb mix, mix well, pour batter into lined pie pans.
6. Sprinkle the reserved crumbs evenly over the two pies.
7. Bake in 350 deg oven 30-45 minute until tooth pick comes out clear.
Let cool, eat and enjoy!