COONIE BEARS STRIKE AGAIN

COONIE BEARS? That was how we were taught that raccoons were members of the bear family, not kitty cats to be played with, but unpredictable wild animals to be respected and avoided if possible. We have a problem with rabies around here, and coons are our #1 carriers. (Might I add at this point that possums are NOT rabies carriers. Just sayin’.) Several times each year we have a battle with raccoons. They always win. No, I do not do anything to hurt them, but it is always a battle of wits. They always win. The battle begins when the garden is new. The coonie bears are into rearranging whatever I plant. Sadly, this means I have to fence in everything to keep it from getting dug up – or dumped. Sure, they can climb any fence, but they don’t seem to like to climb either the nylon fencing or chicken wire. Maybe it doesn’t seem secure enough for them because a friend who has a wooden fence around his garden has his stuff torn up by the coons that climb in and out nightly. Nylon or plastic fencing comes in rolls, is cheap, and easy to put up as long as you don’t wear anything with buttons. Like netting, the small squares can get caught up in buttons quite easily and getting untangled can be a problem, usually because one’s hands are already busy hanging onto fencing, posts, hammers or thingies to tie the fence in place… and, of course, the phone in your pocket usually rings at about this time, too. Sigh. Anyway, since this blog is sort of a diary of what goes on in my yard/garden, that includes vandalism by the 4 footed friends that travel thru looking for munchies- or just for entertainment.

Among other fun activities for the night, they pulled out some of the tomato plants (again) and emptied the pot of dill plants that I grow for the enjoyment of the black swallowtail caterpillars. The basil also got rearranged.

I had just repotted some old geraniums that had wintered over in the greenhouse… apparently the Coonie Bears did not like they way they were potted… so they unpotted them and a few other things. sigh. 

One of their main attractions when not destroying the garden is looking for left over cat food. Now that Punkin is gone, there is not much in the way of cat food left outside… so they removed the stainless steel bowl that goes in this ant-proof holder. We have not found it yet. They have taken cat dishes before and they were never found. Amazing creatures! So I keep the dry crunchies in a very heavy crockery bowl inside an even heavier crockery bowl, and now Spook is eating out of a pie tin that sits where his big food dish once sat. Fences have gone up where I never bothered to put them before, but the carrots bag got dug out, one bag of onions, and the tomatoes twice in spite of having a ground cloth. 

  Even the potatoes got dug out and are now fenced in.

This fencing is for the deer since the beans are just at the right height to be nibbled on… and it would be easy for the raccoons to climb up inside – but so far it seems to have kept them out.

THE MORMONS GOT IT WRONG

A TRUE STORY, WITH apologies to any Mormons reading this...
About a month ago, a group of us, Board members from SPOTS (http://onley-spots.blogspot.com/), went across the Bay to a Train Show at the VA Beach Convention Center. I was the only female with 4 of our male Directors. I was excited as it would be my first train show and I was anxious to see and learn. I don’t even pretend to know anything about model trains, so several of the men who have extensive train layouts of their own were going to teach me, as I really need to know about model trains in order to help get our education program up and running.
As some of you know, I cannot walk very far – I am lucky to be walking at all having been told many years ago I would never walk again after a really bad car accident. So, I took my wheel chair. The guys were more than wonderful, helping to push me thru the huge parking lot and into the building. That convention center is enormous! I never could have walked it. One guy or the other stayed with me almost all the time, gladly explaining the differences in the engines, types of track, names of the different cars, what they would have been used for in a real train… it was like being with a couple of train professors! It was GREAT!
I knew I wanted to buy some N scale cars, maybe an engine if I could find a blue one that vaguely resembled what runs here on the shore, and I was happy to see so many N scale trains at the show. (Check the SPOTS blog for the size of N scale and what I bought.) For example, the N scale engine I bought is no longer than a ball point pen. One or another of the men advised me and actually made the decisions for me when we had several things to choose from, after explaining the differences. They were extremely kind and attentive. One section of the show had some cool N scale kits. Dennis looked the kits over and we found something we thought would be just perfect. He explained everything to me; I put the kit aside, and continued to look for some box cars that were plain and of good color that we could put our station logo on. See, I don’t mind shopping like a woman – “What do you want, dear?” “Oh, something in blue…” I even use that when I buy cars! Tho’ today, I say “a van in blue.” But the logic in multiple bright colors in train cars (yeah, there IS some logic here) is because it will attract the kids better than a bunch of cars all the same, same color, same shape – which might be more authentic, I admit, but is also atheistically very boring. And we will be looking to keep kids interested in what we are doing, even if it is only learning shapes and colors with the littlest kids. “Can you find a car that is like a cylinder?” There are ‘shape ID’ SOLs for several grade levels. I also needed stuff for the scenery (my department) and buying stuff on line just wasn't working out real well.
Anyway, I digress, as usual… after I picked out what I wanted, it was time to pay the girl who was working the table with her husband. They were young, under 30, I am sure, but at this point in my ancient life, they all look like high school kids just as when I was in my teens and 20s, anyone over 50 was ancient! I pulled out the checkbook, made out the check, and looked around for Niall to co-sign the check as the group would be buying the train set, and the checks require 2 signatures. The girl saw me looking around and, seeing Dennis at the end of the aisle said, “Your husband is over there.”
“Oh, no,” I said – the word husband having not registered in my brain yet – “I need the one in the yellow jacket. Be right back…” as I rolled off in search of Niall. I found Niall and brought him back to look at what Dennis and I had picked out, he thought it was a good purchase, and co-signed the check. If we were getting funny looks from the kids selling the stuff, I did not notice. Not yet.
Time went by, we all split and rejoined each other here and there throughout the show, but I usually had someone by my side or nearby to explain things to me, suggest that I needed this one, not that one, and why. Like I said, I felt like a kid in school with the experts teaching Model Trains, 101. After a while, I went back to the table where I had found the N train kit and looked for some more box cars. This time Tom was with me. We picked out a few more cars, but rather than try to chase Niall down, I just put them on my credit card. Tom was also very attentive, enjoying teaching the rookie and watching someone get bitten by the Train bug. It was at this time the girl really took notice that I was with 3 different men. But when I showed up with Pat to show him an HO car I wanted and to pick up some stuff for the scenery, she really began looking at me kind of funny. I mean, here I was, an old lady in a wheel chair, with 4 men acting like what she was doing or buying was actually important to them. Of course, it did not keep her from taking my money.
We left the show at 2 PM, meeting each other at the entrance, maybe 30 feet away from the kids where I had made several purchases. As I rolled down their aisle on my way to meet the guys, the devil whispered in my ear. I rolled up to the young woman who definitely recognized me at this time – I might have been her best customer that day, who knows? She might have thought I was going to buy yet another couple cars or more track, so she greeted me with a smile, then looked around to see which man was in attendance. But I was alone, just passing by to get to the guys and go home. However, I stopped and quietly said to her, “Ya know, those Mormons have it all wrong. I mean, if a man can have several wives, why can’t a woman have several husbands?” Her eyes looked shocked but her face lit up in a big grin as she contemplated the idea. Her husband, having overheard my comment stepped in closer and started telling her in a slightly louder than usual voice, “Don’t listen to her, don’t listen to her!”

There stood the guys innocently waiting at the entrance, not having any idea what was being said 30 feet away… “I mean, look, 4 paychecks instead of one. Think of the shopping you can do! Always someone handy to fix things around the house…”
“DON’T LISTEN TO HER! SHUT YOUR EARS!” her husband was shouting and hitting (not hard) her arm. “DON’T LISTEN TO ANY OF THAT, ITS JUST WRONG!” Shoot, I thought the boy was going to cry! He did not tell me to go away, after all, I had spent a couple hundred dollars there that day, he had not lost sight of that, but he was getting worried! And his wife was grinning… in shock with what the old lady in the wheelchair was telling her, but her fantasies were running away with her, nonetheless, I could tell. Ah, youth...
“Don’t knock it until you try it, honey,” I said as I winked and rolled away. “Hey guys! Sorry, just wanted to say goodbye to (I forget her name). I’m coming!” I could hear him still carrying on back behind us as one of the men took over pushing my chair over the carpet and out into the sunlight, out to the Yukon. I smiled all the way home.
I bet she still thinks about it.

HAVE YOU EVER BEEN……..

I have been in many places, but I've never been in Cahoots. Apparently, you can't go alone. You have to be in Cahoots with someone.

I've also never been in Cognito. I hear no one recognizes you there.

I have, however, been in Sane. They don't have an airport; you have to be driven there. I have made several trips there, thanks to my friends and family.

I would like to go to Conclusions, but you have to jump, and I'm not too much on physical activity anymore.

I have also been in Doubt. That is a sad place to go, and I try not to visit there too often.

I've been in Flexible, but only when it was very important to stand firm.

Sometimes I'm in Capable, and I go there more often as I'm getting older.

One of my favorite places to be is in Suspense! It really gets the adrenaline flowing and pumps up the old heart! At my age I need all the stimulus I can get!                                                          

And, sometimes I think I am in Vincible but life shows me I am not!

I have been in Deepshit many times; in fact the older I get, the longer I stay because I feel so much at home there.

THE PLAYHOUSE

 

I hate cleaning out closets, barns, attics… the storage bins of long ago memories, wading thru what some call nostalgic moments. Don’t get me wrong, I have had some wonderful experiences, been to some amazing places, done some exciting things, but at this stage of my life, most of my memories are bittersweet. I guess that happens when you are the survivor, and all of the folks you shared those experiences with are gone. I am not going into all that to depress anyone, no one needs to read someone’s whining about their losses, but this one took me by surprise. A gazillion years ago, back when I was working on my Art Ed degree, I had the good fortune to land a summer job (of sorts) as a lowly assistant to an assistant at a summer playhouse. I got to do all kinds of fascinating things… I learned how to make a castle so cold and damp and forbidding looking that sitting out in the audience, you were glad you did not live in that age and time… or a palace room so beautiful you never wanted to leave. Manor libraries, business offices, tenement kitchens, cozy living rooms with just enough hiding space for a corpse or two… ah, the theatre. From Sweeney Todd’s barber shop to the bed room in the Sound of Music, to the café in La Cage aux Folles… we whipped up scenery in a couple days or so that would have been good enough for Broadway, I swear. And really, it had to be. OK, our stage was smaller and the house only sat 500, but we had real stars playing on our stage. Real ones… where was this? About 30 miles from our house in the Poconos is a little town called Mountainhome, and in the middle of its tinyness is a little road called Playhouse Lane, and on that lane stood the Pocono Playhouse. In searching for some old pictures of the Playhouse, I found the following quotes… probably in the Pocono Record????? I was in such a state of shock, I forgot to make note of the source…

“Pocono Playhouse—theatrical home since 1947 to such heralded actors as Betty Grable, Walter Matthau, Jean Stapleton, Steve McQueen, Shelley Winters, Hal Linden, Gloria Vanderbilt, Larry Hagman, Cybill Shepherd, Richard Kiley, Kaye Ballard, Ted Knight, Bonnie Franklin, and John Travolta.” burned down last night….

And… “Gloria Vanderbilt and Margaret Truman made their debuts at Pocono Playhouse in the 1950s,” said longtime resident Maryann Miller, who owns Theo B. Price store in Cresco with her husband, Warren “Mickey” Miller.”

And… “Stars who played there over the years included: John Travolta, Walter Matthau, Larry Hagman, Cybill Shepherd, Jean Stapleton, Shelley Winters, Ted Knight, Hal Linden, Bonnie Franklin and Kaye Ballard.”

To this I can add dozens of names, the names of the people I remember working with, some fondly, some disappointing to the point of tears. I remember Gary Moore, and Gary Burghoff, Angela Lansbury, Imogene Coca and her husband, King Donovan. Gary Moore was funnier off stage than on – not to say he was not a good actor, just that he was a nut! Probably the funniest people to work around were Imogene Coca and King Donovan. We had to do frequent quickie repair work to the set because they often improvised during a scene and sometimes the set did not handle it very well. When cement blocks are really Styrofoam… well, you get the idea. They were gracious people and actually considered us human, unlike one or two others I won’t mention.

Does anyone remember Betsy Palmer? She was probably the nicest person to be around – a genuinely warm and unpretentious kind person. I always smiled when I arrived at the Playhouse and saw the Mercedes parked out back with the BP license plate. I knew it was going to be a good day. She was like sunshine on legs!

On the other hand, I was so excited anticipating the arrival of Eve Arden, having grown up on Our Miss Brookes, and then I became a teacher myself… well, I was just excited meeting the voice that convinced me that being a teacher would be a great and wonderful thing – and all I can say is – life is full of disappointments, and I will say nothing more.

Anyway, the point of this post, along with general reminiscing, is to pay tribute to one of the greatest little summer jobs I ever had, and one of the neatest places I have ever had the opportunity to visit, let alone “hang out.” The Playhouse used to be the highlight of my summers in the Poconos… In later years, we planned our vacation around what was playing – or often, who was playing, but that came to an end – first when the theatre was sold and it became… um, well, I am at a loss for words… lets say it lost its class. The performers were unknowns, and even though some of the performances were really enjoyable, I guess I always just felt a bit cheated. Several years ago, I wondered why we were even driving 30 miles to see anything. The quality of the performances left so much to be desired… and I guess lots of other folks felt the same way, too. I think the last time I attended a show there, there were empty seats all thru the house. It was sad, I just hoped someone would buy the place and bring it back to the Playhouse it was when Rowena Stevens owned it.

Anyway, I was cleaning out a box of “stuff” the other day, and I found my old make-up kit, my kit from a gazillion years ago. As I said, we all had to learn how to do EVERYTHING, and make up was included. After tossing the kit in the trash can, I came in the house to check on the whether the Playhouse was even open this year or not. I could not believe my eyes when I saw the pictures. It is like losing a family member, really. I read the story and shook my head in sorrow.

If you are interested, google the Pocono Playhouse, the Pocono Record has a great story on the history of the place and the history of the last owner Ralph Miller and his “trail of fire” –

“In this special report, the Pocono Record, Times Herald-Record and Cape Cod Times collaborate to uncover the string of broken promises, questionable business dealings and trail of suspicious fires that have followed Ralph Miller across three states over 21 years. The owner of Pocono Playhouse was also the one-time owner of the Woodstock Playhouse in New York and Falmouth Playhouse in Massachusetts. Every time that Miller or his playhouses have gotten into trouble, fire destroyed a theater or Miller declared bankruptcy.”

It is sad, like losing a dear old family member… and even though the shows were no longer as great as they used to be, I miss knowing I can’t even drive by and look at the old place, let alone buy a ticket and sit for a couple hours and have some live entertainment. The last few years, props were trucked in, unloaded, and the stage crew traveled around to a few different sites in the summer. Nothing was done on site anymore. I guess they were used to working on small stages, so things did not have to be custom built to fit.

I used to love to watch the show, often standing in the back of the house because there were seldom any empty seats. Some shows were sold out at the beginning of the season, a month or 2 before the curtain went up. But I would have to watch the show a couple of times… once to see the show, but initially, to see how the scenery worked. Sometimes we reworked a scene after the opening night to make it look a little better, or to make movement a little more realistic.

Several of us would stand in the back with ice cream cones in our hands as the curtain went up. The sign of a good show was forgetting to eat the ice cream and having a handful of runny glop as we got caught up in the show. I always kept a pocketful of paper towels in hopes of an excellent show!

LOONY COONS

FORGET THE LUNATIC SQUIRRELS, we are now dealing with some very naughty raccoons - very naughty! Yes, we have moved from destructive squirrels to destructive raccoons. My guess is we have a hungry mother, and in her haste to find food, she is just tearing up everything in sight. She seems especially fond of fresh potting soil and has made a mess of everything she can get her paws into. I think this Bleeding Heart will survive, but I am not so sure about the 10 tuberous begonias planted in these boxes. I have waited several weeks for them to sprout, and just as they finally had recognizable begonias leaves, the coon dug them out and broke the leaves off the bulbs. She also dug holes all thru the 4x4 garden, so today will be spent building a wire cage around – and over this fence to protect it until the tomatoes and watermelon get a good start. She even dug up some flowers that I thought would be better established by now. This was a pansy bed... torn apart... I had to search for the little plants...Last night, she got into a bag of kitty litter! Fortunately she didn’t like it so clean up was minimal!
I had to put a “door” on the shelves on the carport where I keep “stuff” for the yard, including cat food when we go away and have someone come to feed Spook and Punkin. Even though that food is in cans when it is out there, the coons knock the stuff off the shelves and roll things around on the carport. As I said, naughty, naughty! They knocked the marble off the old birdbath base. I usually keep a plant on it, but it only had potting things on it last night. The other night, they took the double sided cat food dish all the way out to the edge of the woods. I have no idea how far they would have taken it, but I chased them and found it about a hundred feet from the carport. Dumb part is – it was empty when they took it!
On the bright side, the strawberries have been making good progress. I was surprised to see a hint of red, then a lot more red, and finally enough to be able to share. How do you know when you have enough to share? You have enough when there are berries left over after you eat them as you pick them… that is an advantage of not using any pesticides or herbicides. Pick ‘em and eat ‘em! They were not as sweet as I expected, but someone told me that is because it has been so cool. Maybe the next picking will be sweeter, but today is another cool one, and they have said we might get down to 39 tonight! That is cold for us for this time of year, but I have friends in NY and Ontario who are getting snow today! Imagine, snow for mother’s day! there are FREEZE warnings for my place up in the Poconos!

HAVE YOU EVER?????

HAVE YOU EVER BEEN GUILTY OF LOOKING AT OTHERS YOUR OWN AGE AND THINKING, SURELY I CAN'T LOOK THAT OLD. ????
WELL . . . YOU'LL LOVE THIS ONE.
MY NAME IS ALICE , AND I WAS SITTING IN THE WAITING ROOM FOR MY FIRST APPOINTMENT WITH A NEW DENTIST. I NOTICED HIS DDS DIPLOMA ON THE WALL, WHICH BORE HIS FULL NAME.
SUDDENLY, I REMEMBERED A TALL, HANDSOME, DARK-HAIRED BOY WITH THE SAME NAME HAD BEEN IN MY HIGH SCHOOL CLASS SOME 30-ODD YEARS AGO. COULD HE BE THE SAME GUY THAT I HAD A SECRET CRUSH ON, WAY BACK THEN?
UPON SEEING HIM, HOWEVER, I QUICKLY DISCARDED ANY SUCH THOUGHT. THIS BALDING, GRAY-HAIRED MAN WITH THE DEEPLY LINED FACE WAS WAY TOO OLD TO HAVE BEEN MY CLASSMATE.
AFTER HE EXAMINED MY TEETH, I ASKED HIM IF HE HAD ATTENDED MORGAN PARK HIGH SCHOOL .
'YES. YES, I DID. I'M A MUSTANG,' HE GLEAMED WITH PRIDE.
'WHEN DID YOU GRADUATE?' I ASKED.
HE ANSWERED, 'IN 1975. WHY DO YOU ASK?'
'YOU WERE IN MY CLASS!', I EXCLAIMED.
HE LOOKED AT ME CLOSELY.
THEN,
THAT UGLY,
OLD,
BALD,
WRINKLED FACED,
FAT-ASSED,
GRAY-HAIRED,
DECREPIT
SON-OF-A-B**** ASKED,
'WHAT DID YOU TEACH???'