SOME THOUGHTS, SOME GRATITUDE

It has been a crazy couple of weeks, but that is not a complaint… not even really an excuse for not staying in touch, but time has been short for blogging with so many other things to worry about. I have tried to keep up with some of you in private emails as blogger is being uncooperative again. Once again, storms have changed people’s lives. My cousin lost their cabin on the Susquehanna River up near Wilkes Barre, PA. But, that could have been their primary residence, so while a serious loss, they still have their home and all their belongings. And no one lost their lives – most important of all. Check off that little box on your gratitude list!

Normally this is a hectic time of year anyway, tons of things to do as summer winds down, a dozen events going on before it gets too cold, sometimes having to run from one event in the morning to another in the afternoon or evening. I feel like my friend, Ralph, bless his heart, who is running for Senate again and is trying to be in 5 places at once and still maintain a practice at Children’s Hospital. As I listened to his schedule yesterday, I just shook my head wondering how he does it all. But, he is much younger and in better health and has a team making all his arrangements. I am feeling my age! But keeping going keeps me going. Does that make any sense to you? I know if I quit and put my feet up, I won’t be getting back up.

My auntie up in the Wilkes Barre area had to be evacuated. This was not an easy thing to do as she was one of the hard heads who stayed in her house back during Hurricane Agnes (39 years ago) and had folks coming by boat bringing food and water to her thru the 2^nd floor window. But, for some folks, Lee brought more flooding and destruction than Agnes. The river went up to 43 feet. It was a shallow muddy puddle when I crossed it this summer to see her. But, as of last night, she is back in her apartment in her senior apartment building, full of praise for her son and DIL for treating her like royalty (which she is, of course!) My only regret is I was not up there to do anything for her – BUT, my house (up there) is on the other side of 2 rivers with lots of flooding creeks in-between Wilkes Barre and White Haven.

Here on the shore, actually, up in Delaware, one little town received 14 inches of rain in about 6 hours. I have been in the Seaford area when it was under water, drove home from PA in 9 inches of water on Route 13 just before they closed it. Talk about timing! That was June, 2006. We saw cars with water up to their roofs in parking lots, drove past houses with water up to the front doors. So sad!

Anyway, it is very busy here taking care of my own commitments and worrying about family and friends. So, if I neglect you a little bit, forgive me. I will catch up maybe sometime in November!

I hope you have made out all right in the storms!

IT’S NEVER TOO LATE FOR CHRISTMAS

I HAVE FRIENDS who are famous for celebrating holidays, birthdays, etc., just a tad on the late side. Sometimes I think we carry things a bit too far. However, the important thing is if the heart is there – and not when the presents get there.

Case in point… I got to visit a good friend over the week-end. I used to go there every week-end even tho it is an hour’s drive away. Actually, I used to volunteer at her Wildlife Center back in the days when I had a lot more energy and a lot less responsibility – not to mention ga$ was a whole lot cheaper! And then, my little possum lived out her days there after she outgrew all my cages here so I went up almost every week-end to take food, kitty litter, crickets… anything she needed. After PITA died, the trips were few and far between. Then came Lyme’s disease and everything became difficult to do, including driving for a couple hours.

Anyway, even tho we agreed to skip giving presents, you know how it is when you see something that is just too perfect and you just have to get it for somebody? Well, that seems to happen to me a lot. So, I had a collection of animal related ornaments for Bobbie’s animal Christmas tree, a possum puzzle I found 2 or 3 years ago, and a turtleneck with all kinds of birds on it. SO, we finally got together and had a package opening!

After visiting for a while, I asked if I could visit Blossom who, you might have guessed is a possum, so we trudged out to the Wildlife center and woke her up. It was cold, and Blossom made quick work of her snack… just poking her head out fast to grab a bite and back into her warm nest. Now let me just say something about her “nest.” Possums normally move every week or so in the wild. Often more frequently than that. Like cats, they LOVE cardboard boxes and will give up perfectly beautiful, crafted just for them, wooden nest boxes if you accidently happen to leave a piece of cardboard around. Go figure. There are at least 5 or 6 boxes in her cage, maybe some I did not see, and she moves from one to the other on her little possum whim… If you have never seen a possum on moving day, it is well worth the wait… they actually wrap their tails around their blanket (old shirt, towel, clump of straw) and drag it to the new nest site. I had a piece of rug here at my place that kept moving around, and an old T-shirt. Late one night I saw it being dragged across the car port and pulled up under the cover on the chair that was brought in for the winter. There is a box under that cover just for certain visitors. The little possum was moving from under the wheelbarrow in the shed back up to the carport.

Back here, a second Christmas was in store for Punkin and Spook. I thought their little heated box was too crowded. See them both in there? A full house! I had hoped one cat would sleep in the old location, the other on the greenhouse. No, they had to sleep together. After all, they have been curling up together for nearly 7 years.. Sooo, I found a bigger plastic box, cut a new door, built a new floor, filled in around the edges, and bought them a bigger heated bed. They do often stretch out, but they still sleep curled up together. This box is big enough to put a third cat in it – not that they would allow it. And not that I need another cat, NO THANK YOU!

MORE MAINE

I had to do it… it was very, very hard. I just needed to see a few places again. I meant looking at pictures from 2003. Can it be? 7 years ago? I have not looked at these pictures since then. They were taken with a Mickey Mouse camera – one with FILM – and the film was made cloudy when the camera was x-rayed going thru airport security in Portland. THAT was an experience I won’t soon forget – but that is another story for another day. Or not.

Bear with me – I am still trying to figure out live writer… apparently the preview is not always what you get…

Anyway, trying to maintain my composure here… I just feel the need to share a few pictures, most include my sister, Luanne, who left us in January of 2004. This was her last trip anywhere, and she did so well… she out walked me, for crying out loud. The wheelchair I rented for her was used mostly by me! What can I say. Lets start in Bar Harbor…

Acadia -     

Maybe… again… one day…

"WE'RE ON PEAKS ISLAND!" OMG

OMG!

I just got a phone call about a half an hour ago... my dear friends, who go by Grenville and Beatrice on their blog, are sitting as I type this at the Peaks Cafe' - hopefully enjoying some nice hot coffee and a cinnamon bun... ah, yes, life can be good.

Unfortunately, they have about frozen their butts off - tis a bit chilly up there this time of year - BUT, it hasn't snowed on them yet... however the wind is high and probably made for a fun trip across the Bay.

It is a short trip, however, under normal conditions. 20 minutes, usually, if I remember correctly - unless there is ice. Yep, I have gone to school with ice swirling around the boat.

In the old days, as I may have mentioned before, (I'm an old lady, indulge me) if you went to high school, you had to go to the Mainland. As there were very few cars on the Island, one walked sometimes several miles on snow packed roads VERY early in the morning to catch the ferry. Once in Portland, it was a good hike up the hill into center city to Portland High School. We traveled cobblestone streets. I swear, we did for the first few blocks.

I don't know what time school gets out today, but it was out shortly after 1 pm back then, probably because of the long trip home for the islanders. It usually took about 20 min to get to the wharf, don't know how long we had to wait - when you are a kid you don't notice those things - the ferry ride was a minimum of 20 minutes, and then, for some, a walk home of about an hour. Walking on snow and ice is not quite as speedy as in better weather. So for many kids, they did not get home until about 3 PM. It is almost dark by then in mid winter. Maine is an hour ahead of the Eastern Shore, sunwise, not clock wise. But then, it is light earlier in the morning...
Living year round on Peaks is not for wimps. In my old age, I have figured out living year round in Maine is not for wimps. Oh, I am so spoiled. (Its gonna be 74 tomorrow here...)

Anyway, THANK YOU Grenville for the phone call. As soon as we hung up, I called my Aunt Kathryn and we oooooooooooo-ed and aaaaaaaaahhhhed for a while wishing we were back on the Island, just one more time... how wonderful our life was on the island, and all that great stuff. Couldn't remember one single bad moment. (Isn't memory wonderful?)

So, while talking to Grenville, I pulled up the Peaks webcam...

This image is from Larry's webcam, PI, 9:50 AM, Oct 22, 2010

BREAK FAST

 

A week or so ago, I did a post about Ramazan (Ramadan) and the comments to the blog were few, but I did get a number of emails about the post. http://possumlane.blogspot.com/2010/08/ramadan-ramazan.html.

As most folks who know me at all know that I used to live in Turkey and that I have traveled extensively throughout the Middle East. I have a number of close Turkish friends here on the Shore. There are several restaurants here on the Eastern Shore of Virginia that are owned by Turks. I can think of 8 without straining my brain all that hard…

Anyway, my Turkish friends seem to appreciate my pitiful attempts at speaking their language (which I had not spoken for nearly 50 years, except for a selection of cuss words when needed – that my boss could not understand) and they appreciate my love of their country, food, and understanding and acceptance of their customs. So, I and some friends that I hang out with were invited to a Break Fast at an American Turkish cultural center in Georgetown, Delaware. If you read my post on Ramazan, you will remember that they do not eat or drink during daylight hours, which is a long stretch when Ramazan falls in the summer months. Remember Ramazan is based on the lunar calendar, so it is about 11 days earlier every year. Next year the days will be even longer as Ramazan will start about the 1^st of August. So, last night, our dinner was served at 8 PM, just after sunset.

Most of the women were dressed in their finest headscarves and long sleeved, floor length dresses. Most of the women and children sat on one side of the room, most of the men and visitors on the other. It just seemed to work that way for ease in feeding and caring for the children, not as a segregation thing. Think about your home at Thanksgiving, the men in front of the TV set or hanging out on the porch or gazebo, the women gathered around in the kitchen… I remember G-ma threatening the men with a spatula if they did not get out of her way… the gazebo was the escape from work or just being underfoot.

Our host, Asher, served us.

 

My friend, Mehmet, sat with me. My friends, Beatrice and Grenville, who kindly drove me to the dinner – a wonderful thing since I don’t drive after dark - and sat across from me.

We had a delicious dinner, lentil soup and fresh baked rolls, Turkish meatballs (Köfte – pronounced kind of like Kurftah), pilaf with beef and chickpeas, and a salad, and a sauce to eat with the pilaf. The sauce is a mixture of yogurt, cucumbers, onion and light garlic. All this was followed by fresh made baklava and çay (chai).

It was an emotional experience for me.

If you’ve read much of my blog or if you have known me for a while, you will know I dearly loved the few years I spent in Turkey, I was treated like royalty wherever I went, and I was most fortunate to be able to travel throughout much of the country. That might not look like much on the map, but back in the early 60s, the only paved roads were in the major cities, and there were often no bridges over the shallower rivers, one drove thru them. So travel was slow and yet it gave one a chance to experience the country in a way today’s tourists will miss whizzing by things at 70 mph. Part of my dad’s job was to help set up facilities for building roads and bridges. And being young (I graduated high school in Ankara) I picked up a bit of the language – enough to get in or out of trouble, get something to eat or drink, and find the bathroom! For some reason some of the words have always been part of my thinking vocabulary and just pop out from time to time and I don’t even realize it. I learned to eat eggplant in Turkey, so I learned it as patlican (pot-la-john) and still have to pause and think of the English for it, which in my old age can take some time.

An imam called us to prayer. It has been 46 years since I have heard an actual live voice do the call to prayer. It brought tears to my eyes. I felt very homesick for Turkey. There was prayer both before and after dinner giving thanks for the food and fellowship.

I got to visit with my dear friend, Ülkü, and her daughter I will call Bebek. You might remember them from the post about visiting the Virginia Museum of Marine Science. http://possumlane.blogspot.com/2010/03/missing-in-action-once-again.html

So I want to thank my dear friend, Asher, for inviting me and my friends, Grenville for offering to drive, Beatrice for her company, Mehmet for being my dinner companion, Ülkü and her friends for preparing a wonderful dinner, and the Turkish community for sharing a special occasion with us.

I am still smiling. Çok teşekkür ederim.

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!

SO WHY DO YOU GO UP THERE EACH YEAR?

So why do you go up there year after year?

Well, several reasons. First and foremost, it is the only chance I get to visit with my Aunt Kathryn, now age 89. She has been my rock in the storm of my life since I was a kid. She protected me from my mother and step-father – enough about that – and well, she just has always been there for me. She took us in when my step father lost yet another job, fed us, and gave me the love that I so missed after I was no longer living with my grandparents. She taught me to be strong, to be a survivor, and to come out of life’s garbage dump smiling. Her life was not always easy, either. She raised 8 kids, but I am here to say I was “her first" even though her sister gave birth to me. I preceded her family by 3 years, long enough to create a loving bond that has never diminished a bit over all these years. I still call her a couple times a week.
I also get to see my cousin Leigh and his wife Carol. Leigh has been more like a brother than my own actual brothers who, in today’s world, are related to me but not to each other. Ain’t divorce grand? They probably don’t even know each other’s names. Leigh is Aunt Kay’s oldest son.
For a few years now, I have stopped in Chadds Ford on my way up to the Pocono's… getting too old to make the trip up all in one day when the traffic is so bad. Plus, I get to make a quick visit to the Brandywine Museum (of which I am a member) probably better known as the Wyeth Museum (Andy, NC, and Jamie Wyeth) and to get in a quick visit with my brother, Shaw, and his wife.
And the other reason I love to go to the Pocono's, I get to visit my favorite places, namely Hickory Run State Park, and Rockport, which is part of the Lehigh Gorge state park which runs for miles along the Lehigh River some of which used to belong to me and my family. Ever hear of Eminent domain? “Hey folks, we are gonna make a park here, hope you don’t mind, but we are taking your river front property, but you can visit it any time you want to, after all, it is right across the street from your house!”

First, Hickory Run… confession, these shots were taken last year – much more rain… this year the water is down to a mere trickle in places as you can see in this year’s picture of my favorite road.... Yep, that is my van on the right. The road goes thru the creek (pronounced crick up there)... as you can see, last year is was a real tire washer, this year, not so much.
Rockport…
Frances Walter Dam… from up on top of the dam. See where the road goes into the water? Ya don't want to try to drive thru this one however... This is from the other side of the dam looking down the Lehigh River.

I won’t even mention the fact that it is usually a good 20 degrees cooler up here than down home, and this year that was a huge difference as it was in the low 100s while we were gone.

Hmmm, trying to figure out why the date is wrong - and the time!
It is Aug 1st, 8:20 AM... go figure...