As The Rooster Crows
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Way back in 1998

I pulled out my old computer recently and just meandered about, what was I was doing 15 years ago. Writing my first Blog is what I found. It’s hard to believe I’ve been doing this for so many years. So, this is what I did early in the day back then. The little woman was working as a Nurse back then, so no one was around to say “Are you ever going to get off that thing? Today she is retired and I swear, looks at recipes on Facebook all day long. she will deny this of course. I still go to Refdesk quite frequently, as well as the weather. I just love tracking and doing my own predictions on Tropical Storms.

All in all, my first Blog was not that interesting, read on if you wish, have a great weekend and Semper Fi.

My First Day with a BLOG

Blog, kind of sounds like a cold, or a zit or some kind of an affliction. My first day with a blog, now what do I do with it?

Well to start off I’ll let the world know how I start my day on the Internet.

My start up page is http//refdesk.com

Having spent twenty years in Connecticut I next go to http://www.courant.com/ to check on the local news and how the UCONN Huskies are doing in any given season. I’m a forty year Huskie fan. http://www.uconnhuskies.com/
Next up, but sometimes #1 is the weather. While in the Marine Corps, way back when, I was in Weather as an occupation with Rawinsonde as a sub specialty. http://usmilitary.about.com/library/milinfo/marineenjobs/bl68.htm

I use a variety of weather related sites www.nws.noaa.gov/ #1, my other favorites are www.accuweather.com and www.weatherunderground.com

During the Hurricane season I live by the National Hurricane Center. www.nhc.noaa.gov/

I have friends and family in CT, FL, CA, and affections to Key West, FL, Pagosa Springs, CO, Flagstaff, AZ and Ireland and Germany. So, I usually check on the weather in those places.

Next it’s off to the Washington Post and Washington Times to get two diametric views on the news. www.washingtonpost.com

After the two DC papers I go to Google News, which I have preference settings in and glance over that. Next is onto my mail servers.

From then on I usually have a Memo Pad with notes on things to look up and it’s off I go. This all starts shortly after I get up, usually around 0500. Once downstairs it’s a hot cup of tea or coffee to start the day . During the day finds me Journaling, been doing that since 2011. My latest continuing read is “The Paris Review.” Want to make some changes in your life? Try reading “Atomic Habits by James Clear.” Thanks to daughter Kathryn for that one!

Here, I’ve given the world the start of my day for the start of a BLOG. I shall end this bantering with saying Cead Mile Failte

And Please, Don’t forget to check on the elderly!





Woof Woof

I’m going to share something from “The Paris Review,” it’s one of my yearly expenses and I’m reading of the works of many people past and present. What is the “Paris Review” you ask.

After reading this poem in the most recent review, I could not but look at my own pets down through the years, especially dogs.

My dogs started with a Mutt named Lady, I can not remember when she crossed the Rainbow Bridge. However I do know the loss of a pet can be an emotionally devastating experience.  I do know Lady was my pal early in life back in the 40’s. Somewhere around the age of 9 or 10 we adopted Scarlet & Amber, Dalmations from the same litter. They were inseparable and lasted at most, and I’m guessing, a month? They had to be returned as they were not good house pets I was told.

Next was Co Co, full name CoCO Mimi Celest by Hecht. I turned that girl into a hunting a dog, ten yards out, back and forth, Quail, Grouse, Pheasant or whatever, kick it to the air she would. She loved the hedgerows of Burlington County, NJ back in the late 50’s and early 60’s. Most of those hedge rows and birds no longer exist. The only downfall of this girl was, she hated getting her feet wet. Whenever we came to a stream, I’d cross, lay the Shotgun down and return for CoCo’s ride across the water.

In 1969 or 70 I brought home from work a medium sized scruffy wire haired dog named Ping. The name, she used to lay beneath the Ping Pong table at the firehouse I worked at. An old LaFrance (1947) 100 ft aerial ladder truck co. in Hartford, CT is what I rode. Back in the day I like to say.

The Mrs. wasn’t too keen on this pathetic looking creature and I remember her saying, “If he so much as nips once, any of the children, out he goes. The kids, a new born, one, 1 yo and another age 3. Never a nip, had that wonderful pet for a good ten years. Called her Ping the Wonder Dog back in the day.

A Wiki photo

A Yellow Lab with the name of Saucy would also join us those years in Connecticut. Once the fruit of the vine appeared, we continuously found Cucumbers on our lawn from neighbors gardens, the Lords bounty.

After my retirement from the CT State Police we moved to the Eastern Shore of Maryland, a sort of compromise between Maine, the Mrs. choice, and Florida, my choice. We wound up getting a Black Lab – Mix, and what we suspect was the father, a Collie named Chief. That Mutts name was Troop.

We would have a Marsh and a Duke along the way. Next to last we had a Maggi, a Standard Poodle and presently, another Standard Poodle, Benjamin.

Many of the atributes mentioned in the poem I am about to share existed in one or all of our past canines.

Without further ado, I share with you.

Erica Jong

Jubilate Canis

(With apologies to Christopher Smart)

For I will consider my dog Poochkin
(& his long-lost brothers, Chekarf & Dogstoyevsky).
For he is the reincarnation of a great canine poet.
For he barks in meter, & when I leave him alone
his yelps at the door are epic.
For he is white, furry, & resembles a bathmat.
For he sleeps at my feet as I write
& therefore is my greatest critic.
For he follows me into the bathroom
& faithfully pees on paper.
For he is almost housebroken.
For he eats the dog food I give him
but also loves Jarlsberg swiss cheese.
For he disdains nothing that smells—
whether feet or roses.
For to him, all smells are created equal by God—
both turds and perfumes.
For he loves toilet bowls no less than soup bowls.
For by watching, I have understood democracy.
For by watching him, I have understood democracy.
For he turns his belly toward God
& raises his paws & penis in supplication.
For he hangs his pink tongue out of his mouth
like a festival banner for God.
For though he is male, he has pink nipples on his belly
like the female.
For though he is canine, he is more humane
than most humans.
For when he dreams he mutters in his sleep
like any poet.
For when he wakes he yawns & stretches
& stands on his hind legs to greet me.
For, after he shits, he romps and frolics
with supreme abandon.
For after he eats, he is more contented
than any human.
For in every room he will find the coolest corner,
& having found it, he has the sense to stay there.
 From issue no. 71 (Fall 1977)
Don’t forget to check on the elderly. theRooster

Jury Duty

Most of what you read here was original text.

21 January, 2023

Jury Commissioner

Circuit Court

Somewhere, MD 20***

Dear Commissioner;

I would love to do my civic duty, but honestly, I’m just tired.

Medically, I’m a real piece of work. Five cervical & Lumbar spinal surgeries have helped on the road to being tired. I can just vision the following taking place. I’m sitting in the Jury Box and get up to move, i’m getting numb again. “Juror # 7, where are you going?” “Sorry judge, just an old injury acting up,” I say. Neuropathy leads me to constantly raise my arms, #7, do you have a question? ” “ I’m sorry, no your honor I do not have a question.” The neuropathy also leads to my legs impulsively shooting straight forward at times. Not good should I be sitting in the second row of the Jury Box. “Juror #4, what are you on the floor?”

I retired from the State Police way back in1988 and found MD, that’s Postal speak for Maryland.. The first 12 years were delightful. We found a 100 year old house for sale next to the spillway of a gorgeous pond. After two years of work we opened this home as a B&B. Long about the year 2000, enter Cardiac issues. It all began with Atrial Fibrillation. A subsequent Heart Attack, two Bypass operations, five cardiac stents and on February 1 of this year I obtain my third Pacemaker. I’m much like that well known Rabbit, I just keep on ticking.An Electrophysiologist also added a third lead to my new device, one of my Valves is not operating properly. Never heard a word about the consonants though. I’m guessing I don’t have a problem there. Oh, and I lost count on the number of Cardioversions, scheduled and unscheduled. That’s the thingy where someone yells “CLEAR!” Now that would be excitement were I seated in the Jury Box and needed one, wouldn’t it?

I do tire quite easily and on most afternoons I catch a nap for an hour or so. From the bench once again, “ Excuse me counselor, would someone please wake-up Juror #7.”  My Long Term Memory is fantastic, the Mrs says my short term memory does not exist. If it’s not written down it’s not going to happen. Did I mention my hearing, well I’m not even going to go there. just ask the wife. “Turn the Volume down,” she hollers from the upstairs.

I stay busy spoiling my seven Hens, chickens, not wives, and have numerous bird feeders as well. For my eightieth birthday I got a feeder with a camera that takes great pictures. I read a ton, write a blog, “When the Rooster Crows” @ https://elfidd.com. In season Uconn Woman’s Basketball keeps me awake after Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy. Phillies baseball and Eagles football also occupy my time in their respective season. I grew up in the Philadelphia area in case you were wondering. The O’s are liked also, though not if they ever play the Phillies in the World Series. Hey, how about the UConn men, won the NCAA national title this year in basketball.

One other caveat to the March date of your SUPENA. I will turn Eighty (80) in March, pending good results from my new pacemaker of course. Our son and his family reside in Connecticut and we were hoping to spend a few days with them during my birthday week. A night out at a Michelin rated restaurant is worth a trip north on occasion. It was a seven hour trip some years back, now it’s at least two days. Some nice people work at those Holiday Inn Express’ and they feed you breakfast also. I always get a Banana for the road. it’s been said they help constipation. Lord knows I don’t want to eat no bananas were I on Jury duty.

” #7, where are you going in such a hurry?”

Our two daughters followed us here and reside in the county. they check on us often. In total we have had 3 children, 9 Grands and 6 Greats. We have been blessed.

So Ma’am, should you still wish for me to sit in a Jury Box, you have the power to do so. But Honestly Commissioner, I’d love to be excused. Be my Hero, say YES—-Please. The only good of me being there would be that my wife of 58 years would have the house to herself for a month. I’m thinking it would be a lot quieter also.

With all do respect,

The Rooster

Yes, my friends, I was excused.

Don’t forget to check on the elderly!

ANZAC DAY. (25 April)

I share with you a tribute to those down under from a fellow blogger. If you enjoy, click Like.

Thanks Pacific Paratrooper

Don’t forget to check on the elderly

What’s your Logo?

It was a beautiful day here on the Eastern Shore. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and the street was void of traffic. I guess people were going about their day, shopping, eating, and working. As for me, I was going into the post office to pick up my mail. Thirty five years ago when we moved here from Connecticut there was no rural delivery. We didn’t even have a street address. We’ve always kept the PO Box.

I walked into the post office and said hi to the woman in charge. She came out from behind her cubicle and I immediately saw something odd. She was wearing a green sweatshirt with the word “PINK” emblemized across it at an angle. Was I confused, was she, or was the shirt’s manufacturer color blind? It seems today everyone is wearing logo attire. From the businessman in his tailored suit with the Gucci logo on his briefcase to the teenager in her ripped jeans and Supreme hoodie, everyone was sporting a brand name.

Why do people wear such items, I asked myself. It was as if everyone was trying to show off their wealth and status. But what was the point? Why did people feel the need to wear logos?

Some people might say that it’s just a way to express themselves. They might say that they like the way certain brands make them feel. But I think there’s more to it than that.

I think people wear logos because they want to be seen. They want to be noticed. They want to be part of something.

And what better way to do that than to wear a logo that everyone recognizes? A logo that says, “I’m part of this group. I’m successful. I’m important.”

But is that really what’s important? Is it really important to be seen and noticed? Is it really important to be part of a group?

I don’t think so. I think what’s really important is to be yourself. To be happy with who you are. To not care what other people think.

So if you want to wear logo attire, go for it. But don’t do it because you think it will make you happy. Do it because you like it. Do it because it makes you feel good.

And if you don’t want to wear logo attire, that’s okay too. There’s nothing wrong with being yourself.

The important thing is to be happy. And to be happy, you don’t need to wear a logo.

And please, know the difference between PINK and GREEN.

There are a few possible reasons why the woman is wearing a sweatshirt that says PINK and the shirt is green.

  • She might like the way the colors look together. Pink and green are complementary colors, which means they look good together.
  • She might be a fan of the PINK brand. PINK is a popular brand of clothing and accessories for young women.
  • She might be trying to make a statement. Wearing a PINK sweatshirt with a green shirt could be a way for her to show that she doesn’t conform to traditional gender roles.
  • She might just be wearing what she feels comfortable in. There’s no need to overthink it!

Ultimately, the reason why the woman is wearing a sweatshirt that says PINK and the shirt is green is up to her. There are many possible explanations, and it’s important to respect her choices. Let us respect everyone’s choices. Christ made a choice for us all, and it was a cross.

Happy Easter Everyone.

Go UConn!   And, don’t forget to check on the elderly.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day


Grandchildren Mia, Ana, Dax, and Zoe wish all a Happy St Patricks Day.

Weekly Quote

“Do not regret growing older. It is a privilege denied to many.”
—Mark Twain

An Old Pen Shop Is Mightier Than the Death of Cursive
March 15, 2023

I share with you this Blog posted by Jack Limpert, long-time Editor of the Washington Post. Jack’s Blog, About Editing and Writing, can be found @ https://jacklimpert.com

This writer loves Pens also. A Sharpie S-Gel 0.7 is my go-to. Like John Wayne back in the day. I always carry. “If it’s not written down, it never happened.”

From a Washington Post story by Tara Bahrampour headlined “An old pen shop proves mightier than the pandemic and the death of cursive”:

The enormous patina-green fountain pen juts over the sidewalk on F Street, two blocks from the White House, its gold nib pointing down at the front doors like a command.

“Fahrney’s Pens,” the sign in calligraphy reads. Inside, the narrow space with 28-foot ceilings is a cathedral to its acolytes, its objects of worship gleaming under glass counters. Ball or fountain. Plastic or rose gold. Steel or acrylic resin, redwood or ebony, matte or shiny.

“Allow me to dip it,” store manager Phuntsok Namgyal says softly. He bathes a nib in a bottle of blue-black ink and hands a fountain pen to a customer, who dashes off his signature.

“Perfect,” the customer says. “It makes you want to write more.”

In its 94 years, Fahrney’s has outlasted the advent of mass-produced ballpoints, the rise of email and text messages, and a pandemic that decimated newer downtown businesses all around it. Its staying power can be attributed to a base of loyal old customers, along with a new generation raised on the digital but enchanted by the mechanical.

But the future of a shop dedicated to luxury pens will depend on more people wanting to write more. Some parts of the country have become pen-shop deserts, said Jonathan Weinberg, an artist and curator of the Maurice Sendak Foundation in Ridgefield, Conn., a state where he knows of no pen shops. “It’s a dying breed.”

One reason for Fahrney’s resilience may be its location.

“There’s just so many potential buyers, between senior government employees, law firms, lobbyists, accountants” in Washington, D.C., said David Baker, executive director of the Writing Instrument Manufacturers Association. “There is a significant group of consumers that like to hold a fine writing instrument in their hand.”

Susan Ebner, 67, a lawyer from Potomac, Md., has been coming to Fahrney’s since the 1980s; on a visit last week, she reeled off the names of pens she had bought there and the year she had bought each one. Solomon Dennis, 79, of the District came in for refills.

“I was dealing with this shop when they were at the Willard,” he said, referring to the storied hotel. Fahrney’s moved to its current spot around the turn of the 21st century.

Dennis, leaning on a copper-colored walking stick, recalled the first pen he bought at Fahrney’s, in 1974: a Montblanc Diplomat. “It was a hundred and fifty dollars then; I think it’s a thousand and fifty now,” he said. When he lost it, he cried for a week.

Pens at Fahrney’s range from $20 to nearly $5,000 and from themes like Harry Potter to King Tut. Some have historical connections, like the Fisher Apollo, a ballpoint pen that traveled to the moon and contains gas that allows it to work underwater, upside down, in freezing temperatures and at zero gravity. A National Zoo pen features pandas.

Once, Fahrney’s sold a $130,000 pen “completely covered in diamonds,” store owner Chris Sullivan said.

Robert Collie, 58, of Vienna, Va., inherited a Parker 51 fountain pen from his father, who died when he was 8. “Three years ago, my mom says, ‘Oh, I forgot I had this; it was your dad’s,’” he said. Last week, Collie came to the shop to buy a similar one for his son, who was turning 25.

“I’m thinking maybe a fountain pen with his name engraved on it,” Collie said.

Choosing a pen is personal. How do you tend to hold it? Is your lettering large and loopy? Do you close your L’s? Do you prefer the feel of a light pen or a heavy one? Flashy or subtle? Fine tip or broad?

“It shows their individuality,” Sullivan said.

Sullivan’s parents bought the store in 1972 from founder Earl Fahrney. Sullivan, 62, worked in the shop growing up and now co-owns it with his sister; his 83-year-old mother is still working, too, in the warehouse in Upper Marlboro. (“I can’t get her to stop,” he said.)

Fahrney used to tell of how the store once supplied the White House, Sullivan recounted, aides “running down the street, knocking on his door after the shop closed.”

Nowadays, in-person purchases account for just 15 percent of sales; the rest is online and catalogue, he said. Still, the pandemic hit the shop hard. Its doors closed for three months, and business still hasn’t returned to what it was. “Look across the street,” Sullivan said, gesturing at papered-over shop windows. “It’s horrible.”

Worse were the lives lost during covid: Chuck Edwards, who repaired pens at Fahrney’s for three and a half decades; Elizabeth Spinks-Bunn, who taught calligraphy and cursive classes; and Sullivan’s father, Jon. The shop now displays Edwards’s neatly folded navy-blue work uniform, “The Pen Doctor” embroidered on its front, in a shadow box by his repair bench.

The store still does repairs, though it is getting harder to find parts. It also sells stationery, journals, inks and calligraphy books, a small bulwark against the drift of a country that long ago dropped handwriting classes from school curriculums.

And yet the generation that didn’t learn cursive has somehow fallen for fountain pens — and their interest is helping drive demand. The average age of customers at Fahrney’s is 60, but it is dropping, Sullivan said.

“There’s a lot of young buyers — ‘young’ being people in their 30s — paying $1,200 for a pen,” said Baker, the association director. “From what I hear, during covid, a lot of collectibles and fine items became significant as people had time to browse and look at these things.”

Trends like urban sketching and journaling have helped spur interest in fountain pens in particular, said Weinberg, who owns around 250 of them. “With a ballpoint pen, your hand tends to get a little cramped,” he said. “Your hand kind of flies across the page with a fountain pen.”

Like many old-school technologies, they do have drawbacks: the ink staining your hands when you fill them, the risk of leaks on planes. But for young people, who are embracing typewriters and vinyl, the glitches are part of the charm.

“Just as with records, you had all the scratches and skipping,” Weinberg said. “Young people don’t have that history, so they tend to romanticize.”

And so it was last week that a gaggle of young people, members of the concert choir at Otterbein University in central Ohio, skidded to a stop below the giant pen out front, mouths agape.

“CONNOR!”

“A pen shop!”

Connor Rosenberger, a 19-year-old music major with flowing blond hair, had been searching for a fountain pen in every town the choir had visited on its tour. He said he takes notes in class by hand, because “psychology studies show you retain the information better,” and journals “all the time.” But there are no pen shops where he lives.

“It’s like a candy store for me,” Rosenberger said, standing in the middle of Fahrney’s, as if unsure where to turn. “A very expensive candy store.”

For his choir mates, too. Teddy McIntyre, a 21-year-old redhead with a denim jacket and a mustache, said he writes actual letters to relatives. “It’s kind of like opening a present, instead of getting an email sent to you. And it gives me an excuse to use my wax seal,” he said. And Anna Kate Scott, 22, said she writes novels and short stories by pen “because I feel more like I’m in it, rather than separated from it by a screen.”

At the counter, Rosenberger pointed at pen after pen, and Namgyal took each one out for him to try.

“This is so exciting,” Scott said. “You have to tell your mom that you found a whole fountain pen store!”

Rosenberger hesitated. The pen he was eyeing, an orange and black Monteverde Regatta Sport, cost $90. “She doesn’t like my obsession,” he said. “She’s like, ‘You only need one.’”

Soon, he was on the phone with her.

“I’ve bought nothing,” he relayed. “I actually broke one of my friends’ bracelets, and she didn’t ask me to, but I bought her a new one … and I bought myself a new ring that was five bucks.”

His friends were playing with a four-foot approximation of a Shaeffer fountain pen. They posed for photos with it. McIntyre held it up like a bazooka.

Rosenberger got off the call with his mom.

“She said use your best judgment,” he said.

Tara Bahrampour, a Post staff writer based in Washington, D.C., writes about aging, generations and demography. She has also covered immigration and education and has reported from the Middle East and North Africa, and from the republic of Georgia.

And finally, some recent losses.

Six weeks ago we had eight hens of various descriptions providing us with eggs. Thanks to a local Red-Tailed Hawk, we are down to six. “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses …” Oops, that’s on the plaque at the base of the Statute of Liberty. Have you seen the price of Eggs lately?

March Winds

March has been windy here on Maryland’s Eastern Shore. None too warm either. Crazy weather across the country. We saw snow Flerries once so far this year. All those trucks with plows, just rusting away.

My goodness, LAZY could be my name. February flew by, well 28 days of it anyway. No Blog from the Rooster. I really thought I was on Wall Street. My ticker was working overtime, thanks to a new pacemaker, #3. I’ve had two during the past twenty years, the batteries get old and they, (electrophysiologists) put a new one in using the original leads. This time I got a third lead to my Left ventricle which was not beating according to Hoyle. What is an Electrophysiologist you ask? An electrophysiologist — also referred to as a cardiac electrophysiologist, arrhythmia specialist, or EP — is a doctor with a specialization in atypical heart rhythms and the electricity of the heart.

So the new lead was causing Diaphragmatic Stimulation and I got to make three trips to the ER over a three-week period. As of this writing, all is well. Enough already on that. Plenty of info out there if you’re at all interested. Really though, quite boring.

As some of you know I’ve been journaling daily for about ten years. I’ve been blogging since 08, here and on Blogspot. Granddaughter Jill, a senior at Siena University recently had a news piece printed about the subject. With her permission, read the below.

Just to give you the KID COUNT, we’ve had three of our own, nine grands, and six greats. I guess you could say we’ve been blessed over the past 58 years.

Jills Journal

The following are a few picks from the past couple of months.

Top left we have a Northern Magnolia. In the center is an Eastern Shore sunset. to the right is a flowering Apple tree.

The bottom center is a “Did You Ever Wonder”. How in the name of John James Audubon, do Sea Gulls know the farmers are tilling the fields?

https://www.audubon.org/content/john-james-audubon

Don’t forget to Spring forward.

If you’re confused by all this, the official time right now for all states and territories of the United States is available from the National Institute of Standards and Technology.

Don’t forget to check

Sunsets over the Chesapeake

Golden rays of sun descend, On creeks and fields near Chesapeake’s bay. The sky ablaze in shades of red, As day gives way to night’s display.

The air is filled with peaceful sounds of chirping crickets, singing birds. The gentle trickle of the creek’s bounds A symphony of nature’s words.

The grassy fields, a sea of green Stretch out as far as the eye can see. Beneath the sunset’s dazzling sheen, A beautiful sight, so wild and free.

I stand and bask in nature’s glow As the sun sinks lower in the sky. This moment of peace and calm, I know, Will stay with me until I die

So I’ll sit and watch the sunset fade On creeks and fields near Chesapeake’s bay. Content to rest in nature’s shade As the world slips quietly away. theRooster 01/03/23

Both photos were taken on Maryland’s Eastern Shore on 2 January 2023 with an IPhone 11. Our Lord’s paintbrush, just doing its thing.

Never Forget

I meant to send the below out on several mediums a few weeks ago. Business in my life obviously kept it in my draft file and it never was posted. Perhaps you may think the timing is poor, if so apologies are extended to you.Several years ago on a trip to Germany my son-in-law and I had the opportunity to visit the Dachau Concentration camp.

Dachau (/ˈdɑːxaʊ/)[3] was the first concentration camp built by Nazi Germany, opening on 22 March 1933. The camp was initially intended to intern Hitler’s political opponents which consisted of: communistssocial democrats, and other dissidents.[4] It is located on the grounds of an abandoned munitions factory northeast of the medieval town of Dachau, about 16 km (10 mi) northwest of Munich in the state of Bavaria, in southern Germany.[5] After its opening by Heinrich Himmler, its purpose was enlarged to include forced labor, and, eventually, the imprisonment of Jews, Romani, German and Austrian criminals, and, finally, foreign nationals from countries that Germany occupied or invaded. The Dachau camp system grew to include nearly 100 sub-camps, which were mostly work camps or Arbeitskommandos, and were located throughout southern Germany and Austria.[6] The main camp was liberated by U.S. forces on 29 April 1945.

Prisoners lived in constant fear of brutal treatment and terror detention including standing cellsfloggings, the so-called tree or pole hanging, and standing at attention for extremely long periods.[7] There were 32,000 documented deaths at the camp, and thousands that are undocumented.[8] Approximately 10,000 of the 30,000 prisoners were sick at the time of liberation.[9][10]

In the postwar years, the Dachau facility served to hold SS soldiers awaiting trial. After 1948, it held ethnic Germans who had been expelled from eastern Europe and were awaiting resettlement, and also was used for a time as a United States military base during the occupation. It was finally closed in 1960. (Reprinted from Wikipedia)

Now it is clear why the media hardly mentioned Pearl Harbor this year.When I was a kid, I couldn’t understand why Eisenhower was so popular. Maybe this will explain why General Eisenhower Warned Us. It is a matter of history that when the Supreme Commander of the Allied

Forces, General Dwight Eisenhower, found the victims of the death camps he ordered all possible photographs to be taken, and for the German people from surrounding villages to be ushered through the camps and even made to bury the dead. He did this because he said in words to this effect: ‘Get it all on record now – get the films – get the witnesses – because somewhere down the road of history some bastard will get up and say that this never happened.

This week, the UK debated whether to remove The Holocaust from it school curriculum because it ‘offends’ the Muslim population which claims it never occurred. It is not removed as yet. However, this is a frightening portent of the fear that is gripping the world and how easily each country is giving into it. It is now more than 70 years after the Second World War in Europe ended. This e-mail is being sent as a memorial chain, in memory of the, six million Jews, 20 million Russians, 10 million Christians, and 1,900 Catholic priests Who were ‘murdered, raped, burned, starved, beaten, experimented on and humiliated’ while many in the world looked the other way! Now, more than ever, with Iran, among others, claiming the Holocaust to be ‘a myth,’ it is imperative to make sure the world never forgets.

How many years will it be before the attack on the World Trade Center ‘NEVER HAPPENED’, because it offends some Muslims?Do not just delete this message; it will take only a minute to pass this along. Remember when all classrooms had an American flag in them? Do they even teach our children about the World Trade Center attacks in 1993 and 2001, or did it go the way of Pearl Harbor and Veterans Day? Don’t even mention Christmas or Hanukkah or prayers in school. Many schools no longer recite the Pledge of Allegiance and many children do not know the words to our National Anthem, or that we even have one!

On a more joyous note I wish you all a very Merry Christmas.

Semper Fi

Hamburger Helper

This morning the wife and I are sitting at the kitchen table and I notice a box of Hamburger Helper on the counter. It’s been many a year since I’ve seen a box like that in our house. ” What pray God are we doing with that,” says I. The little lady answers with, “I just thought a trip back to the fifties might be something different”

I am shocked. We eat quite well mostly, no strict diet of one kind or another. Our diet is what I would call well rounded. None of that scheduled fasting, no Vegan, Ketogenic, Mediterranean, Paleo, Weight Watcher’s, Carb Cycling or what ever. I’d like to call our diet a good old sensible 1950’s real food diet. I mean, for goodness sakes, I’ll be eighty (80) in a few months, we must be doing something right.

So, getting back to the Helper. No Hamburger in the freezer, so the lady breaks out a pound of ground Pork. “How about some Green Beans with that.” “No,” Hamburger Helper I’m told. You see, I love Green Beans. I could most likely finish a #10 can of the beans all by myself. I’m told there may be some Spinach mixed in. Wouldn’t Popeye be proud of us. So, tonight, it’s back to the fifties.

Our daughter Kathryn and son-in-law Jeff have Jeff’s dad living with them for a few months. Jeff’s heading to Austria and Slovenia for a few weeks soon and we shall prepare some of the meals. I’m guessing Jeff will eat quite well on someone else’s dime. Daughter Kathryn gets busy at work so we shall help with a meal or two on the table for her and her father-in-law. 

Some great meals from the fifties, Beef Stroganoff, thanks Hamburger Helper. Next on most everyone’s list, Meat Loaf. The beefy, robust flavors come together like nothing else and have become cherished by every American across the country. How about Skirt Steak on the grill? After World War II, American families could finally get more access to meat and with the advent of outdoor grilling, steaks became the hot item that continues to define American cuisine.

Chicken and dumplings trace their roots back for centuries. Our dumplings are called Slicks. Auntie Ems has them all ready to boil and frozen should you wish to shop in our Food Lion or Acme. A bit of Green Bean Casserole on the side would be lovely. My good Irish friend Ed O’Leary uses the word LOVELY quite often. Hands across the sea you know. I have a cousin, haven’t seen her in years, Patty was her name. For family functions we could always depend on Green Beans and Onion topping. If you’re reading this, “Hi Patty.”

Chili, we eat this with a bit of frequency, thanks to son-in-law Jeff. It’s especially good during football season. On the side you’ll always find a bowl of Jalapenos. His gut must always be in turmoil.

I could go on and on, how about Chicken Pot Pie, a Sunday Beef or Pork Roast with mashed potatoes and roasted carrots, and weekend meals are sure to transform forever. Don’t forget to go to Sunday School.

We in our suburban Philadelphia home always had, it seemed like a weekly staple anyhow, Fish Sticks. To this day, I deplore Fish Steaks.

At any rate, should you be old enough to remember, perhaps I’ve stimulated your brain and taste buds. Eat well, eat often, and don’t go to be hungry.

Turn off the TV and internet fifteen minutes early, pick up your favorite book, and read a few pages. It really helps you sleep. Currently, I’m Reading “Fall of Giants” by Ken Follett. It seems lately it’s either history or the life and times of Stone Barrington that I’m reading. Stuart Woods writes about Mr. Barrington.

25f on 12/06 on Md’s Eastern Shore this AM. It was a bit chilly when I let the chickens out of the hutch. Now, if we could just have a few more eggs girls. They’ve reached the terrible twos, The egg count is down.

Don’t forget to check on the elderly.