Mr. Johnson

It was October, 1970. Two months earlier our family had moved to Hampton, Virginia, where Dad was stationed at nearby Langley A.F.B. My new best friend, Linda Johnson, and I were twelve years old. We knew we were almost too big to go trick-or-treating with the little kids but thought we could probably get away with it one more time. So we started eagerly plotting what we'd put together for costumes.

Now, I don't exactly remember what Linda decided to wear that year, but I do recall she asked her mother if she could grab whatever in the heck it was from her closet. So we tore into her mom's room, anxious to grab the piece of apparel and be on our way. In her rush, Linda slid open the closet door on its tracks so hard that it banged against the jamb on the other end like a gunshot.

While she burrowed into the far side of the closet, I stood in shock, gaping at an immaculate row of Air Force dress blue uniforms. They were just like the uniforms in my mom and dad's bedroom closet, so perfectly presented on their hangers that they seemed to be standing at attention—every razor-sharp crease and seam, crisp, the ribbons and medals on the breast of a jacket, precisely aligned. A uniform hat rested on the shelf above them, the metallic glint of its insignia shining dimly as it caught the sunlight streaming through the bedroom window.

I had never met Linda's father. In fact, I'd almost forgotten she'd had one. Too late, I vaguely remembered my mom telling me that Linda's dad, an officer and Air Force pilot, had been killed when his plane was shot down over Vietnam just two months before we moved into their neighborhood.

The sight of those uniforms hit me like a physical blow. Here was proof that Linda had a for-real dad, a man I'd never met, a person who had probably meant the world to her...and he was gone. Now, as I stared at those uniforms that seemed to be waiting for a man who would never come home, I felt like I had just invaded Mrs. Johnson's private grief in the most thoughtless way imaginable.

If my first reaction was shock and my second was embarrassment, those were almost immediately replaced by an overwhelming sense of guilt. Blissfully unaware of my epiphany as she continued to pillage the other end of the closet, I wondered if Linda resented the fact that my dad had come home safe and sound from his tour of duty in southeast Asia, while hers had been killed. Did she sometimes hate me—even a little—when she saw my father with our family? Did she still cry when she was alone in her room at night? Did Mrs. Johnson?

I'd grown up surrounded by men and women in the military, but this was the first time I truly understood the ultimate sacrifice they may be called on to make for our country—the private pain their families may be left to endure.

Frankly, I go a little crazy when I hear the spin the politicians and the pundits want to put on President Obama's visit to Dover A.F.B. to pay his respects to the fallen Americans arriving from Afghanistan earlier this week. I think every president—every American—should confront that kind of painful, gut-wrenching wake-up call before they ever set about debating the "right" or "wrong" of war.


It was 1970, I was twelve years old, and my new best friend, Linda Johnson, and I were going to go trick-or-treat....

~ Robin

GeoCities—The End Of An Era

I was deeply saddened to read the news that the "vintage" web hosting site, GeoCities, has closed its doors forever.

Although I can't claim to have invented the Internet, I've been hanging around online since 1997, which is quite an achievement considering there were very few Internet service providers in Northern Michigan at the time—a whopping grand total of 2! In fact, our first ISP was Northern Michigan Libraries, and our email address read something like this:

xxxxxxxxxx@northernmichigan.lib.mi.us

What a mouthful, huh?

Needless to say, there were no "high speed" connections at that time. Everything was strictly dial-up, and although our computer had a 56K modem, the fastest speed we could manage was a blazing 26,400 bps because we live in a rural location.

I was a little slow to embrace the computer age because I was still heavily involved with amateur (HAM) radio, so all of my hobby time was spent on 10, 11 and 2 meter rigs. When we finally did buy our first computer and discovered the net, it was love at first sight—NO STATIC. Amazing!

As I recall the Internet as I remember it over a decade ago, I'm struck by how innocent and uncomplicated it all was by today's standards. Yet even then, GeoCities was a big deal—as big, relative to the size of the overall Internet, as Facebook or Twitter is today. I did try creating a few of my very early efforts at web pages on GeoCities but, ultimately, preferred the free advanced web editor offered with Angelfire.

Although most of my early web pages are long gone, I have left one collection of Angelfire websites up and running for posterity's sake, I suppose. Birdie's Virtual Places were created to compliment Excite's Virtual Places Chat.

I experimented with java script and applets, creating all the graphics, writing the HTML and installing music on web pages. The music players on these pages still work, although the quality of the sound is pretty pathetic by today's MP3 standards. They were saved in a .wav format that was heavily streamed to allow slow dial-up connections (like ours) to load the web pages. These .wav players, as antiquated as they may seem now, were still light-years ahead of the more common MIDI players which only played a type of computerized elevator music.

So far, Angelfire seems to be hanging in there, but I imagine (like GeoCities) it, too, will eventually close someday, and Birdie's Virtual Places will only be a fond memory for me. For a peek @ what the net looked like over a decade ago, feel free to take a look at my vintage web pages someday.

Like the dinosaurs, these old-timers may be extinct before you know it. :(

~ Robin

Asian Beef Noodles

By now, you've undoubtedly noticed I've been blogging about what's cookin' around our house quite a bit lately. That's probably because with the change in the weather, we've actually been hanging out at the house in the evening. You may have also noticed I like to put together "one dish" meals, and you'd be right. By the time I spend all day in a kitchen at work, I generally don't want to spend all evening working in one as well.

Here's today's offering: Asian Beef Noodles

This recipe was originally a Weight Watcher's recipe my mother shared with me several years ago. However, this version would probably be a few more points than the original because you can no longer find the Campbell's brand fat-free Ramen noodles it called for—and, believe me, I've looked! I've even hunted high and low on the Internet to find a source but no luck. I suppose even using regular Ramen noodles it might still qualify if you reduce the portion size or save up your points.

Here's what you'll need:

8 oz. lean beef steak, sliced in very thin strips
1/2 head green cabbage, shredded
1/2 yellow onion, julienne slices
1/2 cup carrot, chopped
1 cup mushrooms, sliced
1 small bunch green onions, chopped
2 pouches beef Ramen noodles, uncooked
1 packet beef flavor (found in the ramen packages)
1 Tbs. canola oil
1 Tbs. sesame oil
Soy sauce

Hint: I like to stick the steak in the freezer just long enough to partially freeze the meat. This makes it much easier to slice in very thin strips. Add the sliced beef to a skillet or wok with the Canola oil and stir-fry until browned. The original recipe called for you to stir-fry the beef in sesame oil. This isn't a great idea because sesame oil doesn't hold up to cooking temperatures; it burns easily. It should only be used as a seasoning.

Last night I used 1/2 head shredded green cabbage, but this recipe works just as well with a package of slaw cabbage or a shredded head of Napa cabbage. Add the shredded cabbage, sliced onion, carrots and sliced mushrooms to the skillet with the browned beef and cook over medium-high heat, stirring frequently.

While the vegetables cook, in a small saucepan add 1 1/2 cups water, ONE packet of the beef soup bouillon from the Ramen noodle packages and the noodles from both packages and cook until the noodles are tender. (The broth will be mostly absorbed when they're done.)

Add the chopped green onions to the skillet with the vegetables when the cabbage is nearly tender. Stir in the cooked noodles, 1 Tbs. sesame oil (optional--but it gives the dish an incredible flavor!) and soy sauce to taste. That's it—you're ready to serve.

The really great thing about this recipe is its flexibility. You can add more cabbage if you like, toss in some sliced bok choy—don't be afraid to be creative. In fact, the onion, carrots and mushrooms I add to the recipe were never included in the original version.

Give this dish a try some night; you're going to love it!

~ Robin

Moral Dilemma

I've recently read the results from two independent studies which seem to confirm and validate their respective findings.

Several months ago, I read a report in Miller-McCune which suggests that immersion in nature makes us nicer. Even when it's not possible to be outside—for instance, when we're stuck working in an office building—simply adding plants and flowers to the decor can have a dramatic "humanizing" effect.

In contrast, the same study also found that man-made environments oriented people toward more selfish, self-interested ends.

The result: "Those exposed to the nature scenes placed a higher value on community/connectedness values and a lower value on self-oriented values."

This morning, I read the findings from the second study in a report on the Science Daily website. This study found that "clean smells" promote moral behavior. They cite their research which suggests that when Citrus Windex Cleaner was spritzed around the room, they found a dramatic improvement in ethical behavior—"people are unconsciously fairer and more generous when they are in clean-smelling environments."

I know for a fact that I feel better about myself and the world around me when my house is clean, but I wonder if the second study is noticing their participants reacting to a "clean smell" or a natural smell. They repeatedly point out they used a citrus Windex product... not chlorine bleach, for example. I mean, if I really want to sanitize something, I would normally pour a cap full of bleach in some hot water and get to work. I suppose I associate the smell of chlorine bleach with "clean." However, I won't argue that citrus is a more pleasant smell, probably because it is a natural scent, not a chemical odor.

"Together, these findings suggest that full contact with nature can have humanizing effects," the researchers from the first study concluded. "Our results suggest that, to the extent our links with nature are disrupted, we may also lose some connection with each other."

Hmm...so, given all this new information, do you suppose if I spritz some Orange-Glo around my bakery at work, maybe hang a Boston fern in the corner, my boss will cough-up a raise?

Or would I just hand him back my paycheck—you know, to use for the intrinsic common-good of the business?

Arrrgh! I hate moral dilemmas. I think I'll just stick to chlorine bleach. :/

~ Robin

Our Sunday Drive

Heading north across the bridge--we're going out to breakfast in the Soo!

Snow in the Soo? Already? WTF?!

Our daughter, Jamie's, house in the student ghetto.
She lived here while attending college in the Soo.

We first watched this freighter while it was navigating the Soo Locks then encountered it many more times as we drove along the shore of the Saint Mary's River and Lake Huron.

This Crab Apple tree was LOADED with fruit!

A REAL man isn't embarrassed to be seen with a sissy dog in a sweater.
(Umm...but maybe he should be!)

We stopped to let Maisy see the deer in front of a small convenience store near Barbeau, Michigan.

Who says you can't find a rest area in the U.P?

We looked upstream...

... and down.

Detail of the reflections in the water.

Half the fun is never knowing what you might find around the next bend in the road!

Ouch! That's gotta hurt.

High and Dry

An old boat dock near De Tour Village

When you least expect it, you can discover America--even in the middle of nowhere!


Home Sweet Home!

~ Robin

"Commercialized"

Have you ever heard a tune from a TV commercial that simply haunts you? I know it sounds crazy, but every time this commercial comes on, I'm absolutely mesmerized. Yes, it's partly the stunning imagery that catches my eye, but the melody, too, is utterly captivating.

I had to know more about the piece, so I did a simple web search, and, *BINGO*, I discovered that I wasn't the first person to wonder about the music in this Valspar Paint commercial...



From here, I was one click away from tracking down the original version of the music by American composer, Jonathan Elias.



"Crossing River," from his album, American River, is lovely, but I believe I prefer the Valspar arrangement. It is a bit more lyrical, carries you along slowly—it seduces.

Jonathan Elias

So now you and the whole world knows I'm crazy enough to fall in love with a melody from a TV commercial. But if you think that's a little weird, just wait until I tell you that I think the talking E-Trade baby is absolutely adorable—"You Shankapotomus!"

Heh. Too damn funny! You know, I bet the kid they used to create that series of ads is probably ready to graduate from college by now.

Hm, I wonder who he is...?

~ Robin

UPDATE: So, I haven't exactly found out who the E-Trade baby is, but I did find this....

(parental supervision is advised)

Soupy Sales

I just read that entertainer, Soupy Sales, passed away last night at the age of 83 from "multiple health problems."

When I was growing up, Soupy Sales was my hero. I loved his madcap comedy routines on The Soupy Sales Show, and I couldn't wait to see him get a pie in the face. By his own count, he or guests to his TV show were hit by some 20,000 pies in the 50s and 60s. Are you old enough to remember his "dogs" White Fang ("the biggest meanest dog in the world"), Black Fang ("the biggest sweetest dog in the world"), Pookie the Lion and his girlfriend, "Peaches" (played by footage of Soupy in drag)?

Here's a great clip I found of an episode in 1979 featuring his guest, Alice Cooper, and his dogs, White Fang and Black Fang.



Since we're coming up on Halloween soon, I thought that particular video was timely; but to be honest, knowing Alice Cooper's penchant for the macabre, I really figured he'd be the one to squash the bug.

Hey! Watch out for that big pie in the sky, Soupy!

~ Robin

I'll be sure to stop by to visit, yesterday!

That nothing can travel faster than the speed of light, is one of the key tenets to Albert Einstein's theory of special relativity. However, I've just read an article which claims two German physicists from the University of Koblenz may have been able to do just that.

Dr. Gunter Nimtz and Dr. Alfons Stahlhofen report they have been able to move microwave photons, energized packets of light, instantaneously between two prisms placed up to 3 feet apart. So far, I haven't been able to confirm these findings through a reputable science journal, and I don't know if their experiment has been replicated with the same results by other physicists.

But just suppose for the sake of argument... if they have succeeded in busting one element of Einstein's theory using "quantum tunneling" which apparently allows sub-atomic particles to break seemingly unbreakable rules, life just got a little stranger. For instance, if I was traveling faster than the speed of light, I could, in theory, arrive at my destination before I left.

... Which would be a big help on days that I have to run a lot of errands! :D

~ Robin

Hey, wait a minute! If nothing can travel faster than light, and a photon is a component of light, why shouldn't it be able to break its own speed limit? You know, travel as fast as it wants without breaking any rules. Hmm... I guess that's why I'm a baker and not a German physicist. :/

Pandemia

It's been almost impossible not to watch the ongoing news coverage of the blossoming Swine Flu outbreak as it begins to grow exponentially with the encroaching winter. Local schools are beginning to feel the impact. Some have closed, including Harbor Springs Schools, which hits pretty close to home. Despite the CDC's calls for the public not to panic, it's a little hard for me not to worry over this one. Three of the people I love most in the world are high-risk.

My husband lost his spleen after bad car accident when he was a child. He has a much harder time fighting off infections that you and I would only sneeze at. For him, a bad case of Pneumonia could be fatal. Our daughter is pregnant and works in a facility for special-needs children and teenagers who like to finger-paint with their feces to get attention. Her toddler, our 17-month-old grandson, is on daily nebulizer treatments for a respiratory condition.

I see footage on the news of people being immunized for the Swine Flu, but to the best of my knowledge, there is no H1N1 vaccine available in Northern Michigan. Jamie says it's not available where her family lives on Cape Cod, either.

So until distribution of the vaccine begins to meet the demand, we do our best to avoid unnecessary exposure and wash our hands, wash our hands, wash our hands.

Oh, yeah... and don't panic. :/

~ Robin

"Closed For The Season"

As the leaves burst into flaming shades of scarlet and of titian then quickly fade to russet and begin to fall, the bittersweet season of autumn is upon us once more. One by one, our friends and neighbors shutter their cottages, and with the wind at their backs, they hurry away to a more hospitable view.

In Mackinaw, on the Island and at all points north, most of the stores and restaurants are doing the same. Yesterday was the last hurrah for many. I wonder—frankly astonished, even stymied—at their closing so early this year. The Straits area was packed with visitors over this past weekend, but no matter...they're closing just the same. With so many unemployment extensions in place, I guess they figure, "Why not?". They'll easily make ends meet until May.

For the next two weeks we'll be rockin', picking up all the business they turned their nose up at, and we'll be happy to take in their share. Job security. I couldn't keep my health insurance, otherwise—unemployment sure wouldn't pay the bill. Maybe I should ask some of them how they manage, for they must certainly know something that I don't know.

If I do find out, perhaps at this time next year my entry here will be posted from Florida.

... And won't reek to high heaven of the sour grapes we're left to harvest each fall. :/

~ Robin

Ghost Lab—Just Another Cheap Knockoff

To be fair, I've given Ghost Lab a couple episodes to impress me, but, unfortunately, no such luck.

First, I'd like to state for the record that although I like Mike Rowe (he's so darn cute!), he's quickly becoming too overdone. His voice is everywhere, narrating just about everything The Discovery Channel produces, from American Chopper, to Deadliest Catch, including his own show, Dirty Jobs. I think he may even narrate of bit of the Ghost Hunters intro... and now, he also narrates Ghost Lab.

I never thought I'd complain about Mike Rowe because he's so extraordinarily likable (and did I mention he's cute?), but, hey Discovery Channel, give the man a break already—too much of a good thing is NOT a good thing! I mean, what's wrong with Ed Herrmann? He has a great voice, and because he generally narrates documentaries for PBS and The History Channel, he might actually bring the pseudo-science of ghost hunting an aura of credibility. (Besides, he has a summer place in Mackinaw, and I know the property taxes on the cottage can't be cheap. Let's share the wealth a bit, eh?)

So, if strike one was having to sit through Mike Rowe's running commentary, strike two had to be the Klinge brothers. Through no fault of their own, they're just not Jason and Grant. Sorry.

Strike three: They rush, rush, rush! Trying to cram so many investigations into a one hour show means the investigations themselves don't seem very credible. Also, the "evidence," they do come up with, such as many of the EVP, is often pretty darn flimsy. At least Ghost Hunters are willing to admit they don't have a shred of evidence to support a claim of paranormal activity from time to time.

Bottom Line: In a media quickly becoming saturated with the ghost-busting genre, Ghost Lab is just another chintzy reproduction trying to cash in on a craze where, IMHO, Ghost Hunters remains the gold standard.


~ Robin

Cookin' Up A Fall Classic: Boiled Dinner

There's just something about the first snow flurries of the season that has me pokin' around in the refrigerator, looking for a dinner to ward off the chill in the air. Tonight, I thought I'd put together a boiled dinner, a classic, fall favorite.

I was a teenager when my grandmother taught me how to make this simple one-pot dish from the fresh vegetables we'd harvested from the garden. She always used smoked ham hocks in her version, but to be honest, I don't keep smoked ham hocks on hand. However, I do usually have a few sticks of smoked sausage in the freezer which I've found makes a delicious variation.

I generally cut my sausage on a diagonal. This is an old trick you'll often see professional cooks use to maximize plate coverage. If you're watching your calories, a smaller portion seems to go further. You can also substitute smoked turkey sausage—your family will never miss those extra calories.

Core and cut a medium head head of green cabbage into wedges. Peel and quarter a small sweet onion, and add the vegetables and sausage to a large kettle. (Note: Many people also like to add some fresh, peeled, diced rutabaga for a subtle, sweet flavor.) Cover with water and bring to a slow boil. Reduce heat, cover and simmer at a gentle boil for about 35 minutes or until the cabbage is tender-crisp.

Scrub 4 or 5 red-skinned potatoes, halve and add them to kettle. Normally, I would add chunks of carrot to the pot when I throw in the cabbage, but all I had on hand today was a package of julienne carrot strips. I knew they wouldn't take long to cook, so I waited to add a handful when I put in the potatoes. Replace the cover and continue to cook for another 20-25 minutes or until the potatoes are tender.

Add a large slotted spoon and a side of hot corn bread, and you're ready to head to the table. This will make a hearty kettle of boiled dinner—plenty for a hungry family of four. However, don't worry that any leftovers will go to waste. It'll taste even better warmed up for lunch tomorrow!

~ Robin

A "Grand" Affair!

An article hosting the opinion of Joan Collins caught my eye: Have we lost the art of dressing up?

My mother-in-law, Freda, has commented on that subject many times, so I think it must be fairly apparent to women of a certain age that we just don't dress up like we used to. Freda often points to New Year's Eve as the perfect example.

As a young woman in the 1940s, on New Year's Eve she and her friends would dress very lavishly, anticipating a night of ballroom dancing. The gentlemen would sport their finest tux and tie. A corsage presented by your date as he picked you up at the door was traditional.

And, of course, many of us recall a time when ladies would always wear a dress and bonnet to church...well, at least I am old enough to remember. [sigh]

I mention this because I've recently been forced to scrutinize my own wardrobe with a critical eye. My sister and I are going with Mom for a "Mother-Daughter" escape to Mackinac Island and The Grand Hotel—Mom's birthday present from us.



Our reservation included the usual courtesy information about baggage handling and check-in times, as well as one rule which you don't encounter in most hotels nowadays:

"Dress policy. After 6:30 p.m. ladies are attired in their finest and gentlemen are required to wear a coat and necktie."

Well, Terry and I talked it over on the phone, and since our stay at the hotel will coincide with their annual "Somewhere in Time" weekend event, we thought it would be fun to approximate Victorian-era attire.

Of course, I didn't have a fall dress in my closet that even remotely met the criteria—the perfect excuse to go shopping! Thank God for the Internet, because Northern Michigan isn't exactly a mecca for women in need of a Victorian-style dress.

I finally found one that I like, a modern cut with a lot of lace, so *Click! Click!* I ordered it, and it should arrive by the first of the week. I hope it fits because there won't be time to reorder. Keep your fingers crossed for me!



A detail of the lacework at the wrists and hem:



Very pretty, huh? And, as every woman knows, a new dress just won't work unless it's paired with the right shoes... *Click! Click!*



...and the right evening bag...*Click! Click!*



Fortunately for my Visa Card, I do happen to already have the perfect necklace and earrings. Whew!

I feel a little like Cinderella after a visit from my Fairy Godmother before heading to the Ball. I hope Terry is having as much luck planning for our dress-up date.

Now, we spend the rest of the week anticipating, which everyone knows is half the fun!



I think Joan Collins (and my mother-in-law) would be proud!

~ Robin

*Knock! Knock!* Anybody home?

I shouldn't be surprised, but I am.

The time stamp on my blog entry, yesterday, is minutes after I read the news that Barack Obama had won the Nobel Peace Prize. At that time, CNN hadn't even carried the news. I could only find a "Breaking News" banner at the top of the MSNBC homepage, and there still wasn't a story attached to the headline. Last night, I would realize that I had, apparently, read the news even before the President and Michelle Obama had been told.

My point is, I wrote my post before I had a chance to hear the world's reaction to his award. When the delayed reactions began pouring in shortly before I left for work (beginning with NBC's White House correspondent, Chuck Todd, on Morning Joe), I have to admit, I was a little stunned to see how stunned everyone else seemed to be.

I'd been telling Dan for months that I thought Barack Obama would win the Nobel Peace Prize. IMHO, he seemed the obvious choice--selecting him, a "no-brainer," really. In fact, I first mentioned it to my husband right after that speech at Cairo University.

Rarely has an world leader taken the initiative to speak, to share a message of hope and ripe with opportunity, in a message delivered to the world-at-large in "real time." And possibly because he is such a charismatic speaker, people around the world were actually listening... or at least I thought they were—until yesterday.

Now, I'm stunned to realize, most of them didn't get it after all. :/

~ Robin

His Gift Is OUR Prize

I just read the breaking news headline that President Barack Obama has won the Nobel Peace Prize "for his extraordinary efforts to strengthen international diplomacy and cooperation between peoples."

I burst into an explosion of happy tears for him, enjoying this, the ultimate recognition of his efforts on behalf of world peace. I want to hold onto this moment—where it's just me and that headline—before his political detractors have a chance to ruin my day by turning up the volume on their bitter diatribe.

I was watching our president speak in Cairo on June 4. I cried that day as well. Here was a person, an American president, who was finally extending the gifts of hope and a new beginning that I would share with the world if I had the chance, a message of opportunity to world. Here was an American president extending his hand instead of his fist.

Yes, I know men and nations have been fighting since the dawn of mankind. Yes, I know they'll continue to fight until the end of days. Yes, I know a dialog that contemplates a world at peace is the stuff idealistic youths argue passionately over in their college dorms—a nonsensical, illusionary and quixotic vision that has no substance in the real, GROWN-UP world—but I'm glad our president spoke for me and for others like me that day in Cairo.

I heard two days ago that the United States of America has risen like a shot this year, from seventh place to first place, as the most admired country in the world.

And I know who has made that possible.

~ Robin

Mornin', Sunshine!

As routine, I was just browsing the news sites and found a bit of fluff describing one mother's frantic morning rituals as she gets herself and her family out the door for work and school each day.

While I know the pandemonium she relates probably exists, I don't think we've ever encountered it around our house—thank God! Fortunately, our family has always preferred to do with a bit less sleep in order to make our morning routine a very leisurely affair. And we like it that way, TYVM.

Even when Jamie was a child, she'd be up almost an hour and a half before she needed to be out the door to catch the bus. If she was taking a bag lunch, I packed it the night before, and I already had her school clothes laid out. All this, so I could linger a little longer over a good book and enjoy another cup of coffee.

Although, I must confess, one of my fondest memories was the morning a pre-school-age Jamie came to me crying because it was almost time to head out the door, and she couldn't find her "soxtuhpo."

"Soxtuhpo?"

"You know!" she gestured in a frantic pulling motion from her toes to her knees. "My SOXTUHPO!"

"Soxtuh...OH! Do you mean your knee socks?"

Her emphatic nod meant I had correctly interpreted that she wanted the long socks she had to pull up to her knees. How could I be so dim?

Sorry, Sweetheart. I guess maybe Mommy needs to get up just a little earlier in the morning. [sigh]

Today, Dan has to be down to Petoskey by 8 AM for a special class he's taking for his lead paint certification, so he asked me to get him up an hour earlier to accommodate the 40 minute commute.

I mean, let's face it, a hectic day comes at you fast enough—no sense in rushing this stuff, right?

[yawn!]

~ Robin

The Mojave Desert War Memorial Cross

As a child growing up at Edwards A.F.B. in the '60s, our family attended Easter Sunday services each year at the foot of a hill with a white cross. I vividly remember the view of the desert on those early mornings as we sang hymns while the sunrise painted the harsh landscape from a palette of lavender, mauve and magenta. The cross on the hill seemed to glow with a life of its own against the surreal scenery.

Breathtaking!

This cross was erected in 1934 by the local VFW as a war memorial originally dedicated to the fallen WWI soldiers. Although I can appreciate the respective opinions expressed by both sides in the argument for the separation of church and state, I find my heart aching to know that it is "our cross" at the center of a heated controversy that will finally be heard by Supreme Court on October 7.

Today, the cross is shrouded in a plywood box while it awaits the decision on its fate—a fate that may have far-reaching ramifications affecting the display of similar religious symbols on public lands.

Related Videos:





For more information visit: The Center For Inquiry and CNN.

~ Robin

The Big Adventure Tour!

Last year, all the "old gals" on the AM shift at work (which includes yours truly, of course!) got together and hired a Mackinaw Trolley to take us on a color tour from Mackinaw City to Harbor Springs, then along the tunnel of trees to Cross Village on Lake Michigan and, finally, back to Mackinaw. We had fun, but it would be pretty hard to beat the good time we had yesterday on this year's "Big Adventure Tour."

We'd talked about a Trolley ride to Tahquamenon Falls, but then I suggested we stay closer to home and go to Mackinac Island. It was almost comical to see everyone's expression when I mentioned it. They were like, "Oh, wow! Mackinac Island! Why didn't we think of that before?!"

I know it's hard to imagine overlooking the perfect short excursion right in your own back yard, but we honestly had. So Laura made a phone call and scored complimentary VIP passes on the ferry, and Margaret (who was born and raised on the Island) arranged a special carriage tour for our group. Let this be a lesson to you, boys and girls—sometimes it really isn't what you know, it's who you know. ;)

Yesterday, our big day finally arrived! Because the weather was cold and blustery and rain was threatening, we briefly considered rescheduling our adventure but finally decided to go for it. What's a little wind and rain, right? By the time we got off work, we were rarin' to go! We ran home to change clothes and met each other at Shepler's just in time to catch the 3:30 boat to the Island.

We almost had the boat to the Island to ourselves that late in the day. We planned to catch the last boat off the Island at 8 PM, which would still allow plenty of time to get into mischief. BTW, have I mentioned that the gang from our restaurant has been thrown off the Island at least 3 times over the years for misconduct? We have something of a reputation over there, let me tell ya. We only hoped they wouldn't see us coming. Heh!

Here is the obligatory picture of the Mackinac Bridge taken from the ferry as we crossed the Straits of Mackinac.

We arrived on the Island and spent a few minutes waiting for our carriage. As you can see, although the wall-to-wall crowds of summer have thinned somewhat, there was still plenty of activity in the streets. Once our ride arrived, the driver promptly drove us down the street to Doud's Market to pick up snacks and some [ahem!] liquid refreshments for our tour.

Here, just ahead and on the left, you see Margaret and on her right, her sister, Wilma. Beyond them, our driver, Billy from Ishpeming, MI (loved his Yooper accent, and, whew boy, could he tell the jokes! Heh!) and our trusty steeds, Belgian draft horses—Willy (left) and King (right). Because Margaret and Wilma are from the Island, they couldn't resist correcting our driver as he tried to narrate a bit of the tour. However, he was a great sport, and before long he did everything but hand the reins over to them!

We spent nearly two hours criss-crossing the Island—our wish was his command. So we drove past the Grand and West Bluff then wound our way around the back roads until we passed the airport. We then made a little side trip into Harrisonville for a quick visit with Margaret's brother's family.

It soon became obvious that Willy and King had absolutely NO IDEA where we were making them take us. You must remember, the carriage tours generally stick to the same route, day after day, year after year. The horses undoubtedly know the prescribed route so well, that a driver is pretty much optional. On this trip, however, they saw quite a bit of new scenery, and their ears perked up and they whinnied in surprise and curiosity. We all had to laugh at their antics and were thrilled to see they were obviously enjoying the drive as much as we were.

Here you see our mascot, Dan. (BTW, that's my BIG can of "soda" he's holding while I snap pictures.) Dan always comes along on our girl outings. When Billy commented on the fact that one guy was stuck escorting so many ladies (7 women altogether), Dan promptly asked our driver how much he thought he could get for his "girls" on the Island.

"Probably not much," Billy shook his head, regretfully. "Da girls over here, well, dey pretty much give dat stuff away...you know what I mean?"

Sorry about your luck, Dan. :P~~~~

Here's a view of town taken from East Bluff.

...and another view from East Bluff. You can see St. Anne's steeple from here. Sorry these pictures are a little rough. As with most of the pictures I grab for my blog, they're taken with my cell phone which only does a so-so job as a camera.

It was all downhill from here as we waved goodbye to Billy, Willy and King when they dropped us off at the Irish Pub. Then, further down the street, we wandered into the Mustang for one and into Goodfellows for another....

Before we knew it, the group was getting loud and rowdy, Dan mooned Laura, and we figured we'd better hurry to catch a boat off the Island before they asked us to leave... again. [sigh]

This year's big adventure finally ended right where it began—at our restaurant where we all met in the lounge for a late dinner and a nightcap. Dan and I were home before 10 and looking forward to next year's big adventure by 10:01!

~ Robin

Sacred Sanctuary

It was most fitting, I believe, that Ken Burns' PBS documentary series, The National Parks, ended with the words of John Muir echoing ever after. The passionate naturalist embodies the quest to preserve for our children's children the finest treasures with which nature has blessed us.

The battles, the politics involved, have been harsh—even brutal—but in hindsight, I don't believe there is a man, woman or child among us who would argue that America would be better off today without a Grand Canyon, or a Yellowstone, or a Denali.

The documentary was, for me, a trip down memory lane. I couldn't help but recall my own encounters with America's wilderness as a child in the mid-60s. I vividly remembered our time spent living out west and our family's frequent excursions to California's high country.

Mom and Dad would pack the camper, and we three kids would ride on the top bunk as Dad's old truck wound its way around the narrow logging trails, up the side of a mountain. From our perch over the cab, we could look out the window as the top-heavy truck swayed precariously close to impossibly steep ravines—not a guard rail in sight—around and around we climbed the mountain until there before us unfolded a beautiful meadow embraced by towering evergreens.

We'd park near the crystalline stream that ran through it and spend long days exploring those wild places where we felt surely no man had gone before. It was our little secret, and we kept it safely there, near and dear to our hearts.

Now, many decades later, I'm certain our secret has been discovered, and the high meadow has been lost, the evergreens...gone. I can never go back to visit that place save through the clarity of my mind's eye, can never take Collin there to play beside the crystalline stream, where the wind whispers to his heart through the pine needles.

That place may be lost, yet all is not lost through the passion of John Muir and his words that echo ever after.

"Few are altogether deaf to the preaching of pine trees. Their sermons on the mountains go to our hearts; and if people in general could be got into the woods, even for once, to hear the trees speak for themselves, all difficulties in the way of forest preservation would vanish."
~ John Muir (1838-1914)

~ Robin

EASY Stuffed Pork Loin

After work yesterday afternoon, I decided to make a stuffed pork loin for dinner. I'd bought a large boneless pork loin on sale, cut it in half and froze one half for dinner another night. Because I like to keep things as simple as I can after a busy day, I thought you might like to see my "quick" version—perfect when you'd like a nice dinner but don't have hours to spend fussing in the kitchen.

Stove Top Stuffing for Pork tastes great and saves a lot of time. Prepare the stuffing according to the directions on the box. Chop 1/2 of an unpeeled Golden Delicious apple (although any apple variety will do) and toss it with 1/3 cup of dried cranberries. Stir these into the cooked stuffing. Eat the other half of the apple to hold you over 'til dinner time. ;)


Gather the spices and seasonings: Lawry's Seasoned Salt, pepper, granulated garlic, ground Rosemary, and Maggi.


The boneless pork loin.


Butterfly the loin open into a long, thin portion of meat then rub both sides with the spices and seasonings. Go easy on the Maggi and Rosemary—a little goes a long way.


Spread a thin layer of the apple/cranberry/stuffing mixture on the inside of the loin. Don't try to use the entire batch of stuffing, or you'll find it too difficult to roll. Put any remaining stuffing in a small casserole dish, cover with foil and set aside to warm in the oven when the pork is almost done cooking.


Carefully roll the pork loin and stuffing like a jelly roll. Cut 3- 2 foot long strands of butcher's string and slide these under the loin. Tie them securely and trim any excess string.


Place the stuffed loin in a roaster, and add a scant 1/2 inch of water to bottom of the pan. Cover and bake @ 350˚ for approximately 1 1/2 hours or until a meat thermometer inserted into the center of the loin reads 160˚. Remove the lid and set the oven to "broil." Carefully finish the loin under the broiler to a nice golden brown (approximately 5-7 minutes).


Remove the loin from the roaster and allow it rest on a platter for a few minutes before carving. If you'd like gravy to serve with dinner, pour the drippings from the roaster into a large measuring cup and add water if necessary to make 2 cups of liquid. Pour the drippings and water into a saucepan and add 2 envelopes of McCormick's Brown Gravy Mix. Prepare according to package instructions. (Another BIG, time-saving shortcut that tastes great!)


And there you have it—just slice, serve and sit back to enjoy the compliments!

~ Robin