Happy Lunar New Year

Here's one of the things I love about the school where I volunteer : the kids come from all over the world.   On Friday there was a celebration for the Lunar New Year-- with costumes and songs, with first graders from China singing in Mandarin,

with fourth graders from Indiana dancing a traditional dragon dance,

and with a group storytelling with the Japanese kamishibai theater.

Every one, no matter what their cultural background, was in a good mood all morning, ready to begin the year of the Horse.

"Yeah," says Scotty, "MY year!  Bring it on!"

Granddad's Memorial Day

I took Granddad over to Meadowood to see the World War II exhibit for Memorial Day.

He was not particularly interested.

He'd been there, seen that.

He was MUCH more interested in the traditional grilling and picnic.

Because it doesn't matter how many watermelons you've had in your life,

the one you have right now is best.

Here's a Cloodle

 Factoid:

Gather together all your Creative Cats....

Data Heads....

 Word Worms...

and Star Performers,


and you don't have to use your Cranium to know that you'll have a Humdinger of a time.

December 6 : St. Nikolaus

Did you have a visitor last night?

Did you put out your shoes with hay and carrots stuffed in them?

Did you find something else in your shoes this morning?

If so, you must have celebrated St. Nikolaus day!

Here's how it was celebrated in Hans Brinker, or The Silver Skates, by Mary Mapes Dodge:

"Now the spirit of fun reigned supreme. The very flames danced and capered in the polished grate. A pair of prim candles that had been staring at the astral lamp began to wink at other candles far away in the mirrors. There was a long bell rope suspended from the ceiling in the corner, made of glass beads netted over a cord nearly as thick as your wrist. It is generally hung in the shadow and made no sign, but tonight it twinkled from end to end. Its handle of crimson glass sent reckless dashes of red at the papered wall, turning its dainty blue stripes into purple. Passersby halted to catch the merry laughter floating, through curtain and sash, into the street, then skipped on their way with a startled consciousness that the village was wide-awake. At last matters grew so uproarious that the grandsire's red kerchief came down from his face with a jerk. What decent old gentleman could sleep in such a racket! Mynheer van Gleck regarded his children with astonishment. The baby even showed symptoms of hysterics.

It was high time to attend to business. Madame suggested that if they wished to see the good Saint Nicholas, they should sing the same loving invitation that had brought him the year before.

The baby stared and thrust his fist into his mouth as mynheer put him down upon the floor. Soon he sat erect and looked with a sweet scowl at the company. With his lace and embroideries and his crown of blue ribbon and whalebone (for he was not quite past the tumbling age), he looked like the king of the babies.

The other children, each holding a pretty willow basket, formed a ring at once, and moved slowly around the little fellow, lifting their eyes, for the saint to whom they were about to address themselves was yet in mysterious quarters.

Madame commenced playing softly upon the piano. Soon the voices rose--gentle, youthful voices--rendered all the sweeter for their tremor:

"Welcome, friend! Saint Nicholas, welcome!
Bring no rod for us tonight!
While our voices bid thee welcome,
Every heart with joy is light!

Tell us every fault and failing,
We will bear thy keenest railing,
So we sing--so we sing--
Thou shalt tell us everything!

Welcome, friend! Saint Nicholas, welcome!
Welcome to this merry band!
Happy children greet thee, welcome!
Thou art glad'ning all the land!

Fill each empty hand and basket,
'Tis thy little ones who ask it,
So we sing--so we sing--
Thou wilt bring us everything!"

During the chorus sundry glances, half in eagerness, half in dread, had been cast toward the polished folding doors. Now a loud knocking was heard. The circle was broken in an instant. Some of the little ones, with a strange mixture of fear and delight, pressed against their mother's knee. Grandfather bent forward with his chin resting upon his hand; Grandmother lifted her spectacles; Mynheer van Gleck, seated by the fireplace, slowly drew his meerschaum from his mouth while Hilda and the other children settled themselves beside him in an expectant group.

The knocking was heard again.

"Come in," said madame softly.

The door slowly opened, and Saint Nicholas, in full array, stood before them."

And the good saint still comes visiting, especially if you live in southern Germany - you may read about it here.

Enjoy your St. Nicholas treats and look for another treat behind tomorrow's window.

Happy Thanksgiving

Thinking of all of you and wishing you were all around my table!

In which the Pirate enters

"I remember him as if it were yesterday, as he came plodding to the
inn door, his sea-chest following behind him in a hand-barrow--a
tall, strong, heavy, nut-brown man, his tarry pigtail falling over the
shoulder of his soiled blue coat, his hands ragged and scarred, with
black, broken nails, and the sabre cut across one cheek, a dirty, livid
white. I remember him looking round the cover and whistling to himself
as he did so, and then breaking out in that old sea-song that he sang so
often afterwards:
"Fifteen men on the dead man's chest--
Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!"

in the high, old tottering voice that seemed to have been tuned and
broken at the capstan bars. Then he rapped on the door with a bit of
stick like a handspike that he carried, and when my father appeared,
called roughly for a glass of rum. "

Aye, Mateys, pour a little rum in honor of our shipmates far abroad this day, and we'll all drink to one of the world's most inspired holidays: "Talk Like a Pirate Day".

(And then re-read that best of pirate novels, Treasure Island.)

Eggs

It's time to get ready for Easter, so here's a little Easter guessing game. ONE (and only one) of the following characters has been hard at work dying and decorating eggs.

Can you guess which one?
Is it the bunny?

Granddad?

Hoosier Kitty?
Was that way too easy?

Thanks to the Cook!

Well, this was the Thanksgiving that almost wasn't. Temporary Librarian just wasn't up for fixing a feast. Or for much of anything else. But the Bold Bloomingtonaut bravely stepped in. She would do it!
She called in some able assistance for a day of frantic preparation.

Then cheerfully set to stirring and chopping and mixing and seasoning and all those good cookery things.

There was a little last minute help,

much appreciated.

The family assembled, bringing even more dishes to add to the table, and everyone pitched in to get it all ready.

Granddad even got out of his bed and came to the table.
He tried to sample a little tiny bit of everything.

We were thankful to all be together.

And to have plates full of good food.

And we decided everything was delicious.

Even better than usual!
The Bloomingtonaut had pulled it off!

She even added a warm pear tart to the traditional pumplin pie desert.

It was a wonderful ending to the meal.
Thanks to everyone for pitching in this year and making Thanksgiving happen.

And especially, thanks to the Cook.
You can do it again next year!

Labor Day Traditions

This year the weather was coolish for the traditional end of summer swim (nights have been down in the lower 50's and even upper 40's) but it was perfect for the traditional Labor Day cookout. We had sunshine and a little breeze.


As is traditional, dinner took a little longer to cook than expected.

Some of us waited patiently to be fed.

Others of us cooked and made preparations.

And it was worth waiting for:

grilled flatbread

and a new dish: grilled ratatouille.

Hope you all have had as pleasant a holiday weekend as we have!

Remembering

On Mother's Day: remembering my mom

and happy times together.

Happy Easter

Easter dawned bright and warm, and full of bird song and flower - a greeting card morning. Fresh flowers went on the table.

Hoosier Kitty arrived with roses, a basketball quilt to show off, and an unusual Easter gift - a possum skull.

Also champagne, with which we toasted the season and each other and everyone who wasn't there and everyone who was ( did I miss a few toasts?)

The strada rose most spectacularly and made it to the table to be admired before falling back down and proving as tasty as it was decorative.
Somehow the pictures of the table and the fruit, muffins, multi-colored potatoes, and so on turned out a little blurry. Could it have been the champagne?

Funny, there aren't any pictures of the chocolate bunnies...the chocolate eggs.... the chocolate wrapped in shiny foil....where did they all go?

We missed many of our usual crew, but were able to talk with some through the magic of video computer calling - not quite like being there, but plenty amusing.

A sunny afternoon and a stroll down by the pond rounded out a lovely day.
Hope all of you had a happy Easter too!

A little Irish are we?

Oh it's no secret, says Charles, we're all Irish today.... You just have to wear a little green
drink a Guinness or two

and carry potatoes in your hat.

It's a sure-fire way to celebrate

the fine tradition of Saint Patrick's Day!

Valentine's Day

A look at Valentine's Day... Outside
Inside

In my dreams.

Happy Mother's Day

Here's to all the mothers,

mine and yours
and especially to all of you with kids too little to wish you a happy Mother's day themselves.