NEWSDUMP ~ Life is a Strange Brew

Life is Like an Omelette

      When visualizing my life. it seems to me, its the same as making an omelette.
      If you've ever made an omelette, you know the steps. First you put the ingredients into a bowl and mix (genetics). Then you blend them together (your environment and early childhood). You prepare the pan to cook the mixture (schooling and early life experiences). Then you pour the mixture into a hot pan and begin the cooking (graduation from school and life in the real world).
      Now for the process. As the egg mixture goes to the edges of the pan, you take the spatula and begin to pull the mixture into the center of the pan. As you work with it and the heat of the stove begins to solidify the mixture, it stops flowing into all directions. Finally, you have one solid mass, textured and in most cases you have added special ingredients to give it your favorite flavors - that "certain" taste.
      Yes, my life is like an omelette. In my younger years I was "all over the pan," with activities in many directions. It was my way of tasting what life had to offer. And as a wife and mother, I had to go in several directions to make sure my family survived. Finally, in my middle years life got more organized as our children grew and I had more time for myself.
      I began to pull myself into a more solid, yet texturized entity. At last, I saw what has been accomplished and what I plan to accomplish. Much of the unknowns of life and that of my family begin to have a real focus and make sense to me. It's like a kaleidoscope, the stones and colors are the same, but the patterns change as it turns. So it has been with my life and I am sure it is that way with yours.

Anything

      Have you ever thought of what the word anything means to you? It is a very abstract word. It can be an uplifting thought and feeling by giving us hope - "anything is possible."
      In 1979, when our daughter was seven and having reading difficulties she was placed in a special tutoring class in reading at her school. The teacher used various educational and technical methods, and learning exercises to help the children to bring their reading comprehesnion levels up to their grade level.
      After several weeks of our daughter's progress, we met the reading teacher and discussed our daughter's progress. We were amazed and pleased with what we discovered. As part of her teaching, this talented and caring teacher, ahead of her time, used drawing therapy to build confidence to learn word concepts. She was quite pleased with our daughter's most recent vocabulary and reading progress.
      She showed us one of our daughter's drawings, while explaining that each child was given a word and they had to draw a picture that showed what that word meant. She had given our daughter the word "anything." When she came back to check her work, she saw a picture of a Christmas tree with presents under it. She asked our daughter what this meant in relation to the word.
      Her reply, "There can be ANYTHING in those presents!"

Yup - The Word of the Nineties and Beyond

      "Yup!"
      You hear it everywhere. To the older generation it has taken some getting accustomed to, while the younger generation takes it in stride.
      When it first became an everyday word, it made a baby boomer like me pause, because it sounded awkward, very uneducated. Then I realized those I heard saying it the most, were the educated of all ages, not just the teenaged.
      When I grew up in the 50s and 60s, saying "Yah," rather than yes received choruses by my parents. "Say, yes, don't use slang."
      This made me wonder how yup came out of mouths at such high levels. Could it be a return to "adolescence" for the person using it? No. I discovered it has been an evolving word, as most mutated words are.
      It seems to have started, and then gathered momentum and acceptance, when long distance calling became a daily way of life. "Reach out and touch someone," was more expensive than the commercials had led us to believe before 7 cents a minute was a realty.
      Yup became a punctuation word. It lets the caller know that you know what they are saying. And they, or you, can go on without any further details. And it has carried over to face-to-face conversations.
      Still, it puzzles me. How did a clippy little word like this entrench itself? No real answer has been forthcoming. All through the 90s, as I accepted it, I questioned, "Would it go with us to the year 2000 and beyond?"
      Yup!

Avocados Are Not Me - Or Are They?

      I grew up in Western New York, where snow comes by Thanksgiving and stays until April. Usually, people who grow up in severe winter climates acclimate and feel out of their element when they leave. I was not one of those people. In the middle of severe winter as I shivered under layers of winter clothes, I thought surely the stork must left me in the wrong place.
      In the 1960s through a military assignment to the Canal Zone, my family lived in the Republic of Panama. Even with limited communications between the two countries (before touch tone phones and the internet) and homesickness, tropical was very inviting. NO SNOW. It was both a beautiful and overwhelming paradise.
      We lived off base the three years we were there. For me this meant really learning first hand about another culture, one where Americans are not revered, but at times treated like second class citizens. On an individual basis people were warm and friendly and showed me kindness.
      Memories of get togethers with friends both American and Panamanian, the picturesque beaches, lush jungle scenery and naturally ripened fruits and vegetables come to mind when I think back to those years. And I learned to enjoy a slower pace.
      The food was fabulous, including egg rolls baked in the local bakery and fresh fruits and vegatables sold at the roadside stands shaded by palm trees. Avocados, tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers, and lettuce were easily bought at these stands. I discovered oranges are green on the outside and orange on the inside in their naturally ripened state. In the tropics they are orange only when spoiled.
      As I was growing up, my mother loved avocados. Each time I tried them I tried to like them. The look on my face told her I could not stand them, but each time she would say, "Avocados are an acquired taste."
      Sure.
      In Panama, the house next to mine had an avocado tree that bloomed and bore fruit like apple trees do in this country. As we stood on our porches enjoying tropical breezes my American neighbor would call to me, "Come and get all the avocados you want."
      I would usually say, "Thank you, but avocados are an acquired taste. So far, I have not acquired the taste."
      Still, every now and then she would beckon me to come over and insist I take a few and try to eat them. I did but they just were not me.
      A few years later, back in this country, another military friend said as we sat and chatted, "Would you like to split an avocado with me?"
      Eeeeeeeooooow!
      I was surprised, since I had not heard of splitting an avacado with someone. I grimaced, and shook as if chilled at the thought of doing this. I told her avocados were not me.
      She insisted, and with that she cut one in half, poured some lemon juice on each half, salted them and handed me one with a spoon. Hesitantly I ate it, but thought, this tastes good.
      Who knew? A little lemon, a little salt, a little maturity - all the difference.
      Today some thirty years later I live for the ripe avocado sales at the grocery store. Now days a half an avocado is a whole meal. Where is an avocado tree when you need one?
      Ah, yes. Like so many things in life, avocados are an acquired taste.

The Lake Effect

      All of us who grew up on the Great Lakes, know the drill. As each winter begins and ends the words lake effect come to mind.
      All my life growing up in Western New York, on Lake Erie's shore, those words have been the reason for bad weather in the surrounding region. Usually, it is linked by weather reporters year-round to the snow, the rain, the humidity,the overcast sky or any inclement weather.
      In the 50s and 60s, as a child living south of Buffalo, the lake and its beaches were taken for granted. How could we know before television took over our lives and took us to global places, that there was any other type of geographic community? This gave us time to concentrate on our own locale, undisturbed.
      And concentrate we did. We swam all summer and played on the beach at the water's edge. Our parents took us swimming every evening at the local town park, and we reveled in the water and all its splendor. This was a rich time of no cares, no worries. The sounds of "Mom, Dad watch this" to every water play we engaged in still echo in my mind.
      Up to the age of ten, it baffled me as to why every living person was not in the water with us. I knew there would never be a day in my life that I would not be in the water in the summer, "no matter what." Ah, yes, the projections of youth.
      While children still swim and play at the beaches on the lake's shore, all it takes for me to mellow is to sit by the water on warm sand, listen to the water swish and lap, deeply breathe the moist air, read, listen to music, or just sit and soak it all in. It's my sand and water therapy.
      At times the Great Lakes' beaches have been called this country's versions of the "Riviera." And anyone who lives near, or vacations, at their shorelines would agree with this comparision.
      For me they are a place to walk, wave at friends, watch the sunsets, swim, play, sun ourselves, meditate, enjoy the comeraderie of other "lake people," or just sit and BE.

      One September, I sat at my hometown boat marina at Sturgeon Point, and watched the breathtaking sight before me. The lake and the sky were the same color blue. There was just enough haze that the lake and sky merged. As an waterscape photographer, I lamented at not having a camera. Then my realization was, perhaps no film or camera combination could record this pristine moment.
      So I sat there and soaked it into my memory to draw on at any moment, any where in the world.
      Translucent blue. Calm waters. Table top smooth. Rough waters. Like a mirror. Aqua mist and waves. Tranquility and blueness. This is what Lake Erie and the surrounding waterways mean to me. This is my lake effect.