Sunrise, or Sunset? Which do you favor? Both can be equally beautiful. Both can be equally colorful. Both are fleeting. It’s a bit deeper than just color and beauty though, isn’t it? I enjoy them both, but if I could only pick one? Not an easy question to answer, but I would probably say…
It’s easy to say you must be a morning person to see the sunrise, although I think that’s a bit of a cop-out. For myself, I wake up at approximately the same time all year long – about 6:45-7:00AM. That means in the dead of winter, I see some gorgeous sunrises. For the rest of the year? I’m out of luck, unless traveling or something. Virtually all of us are up at least occasionally at sunrise. Maybe not often, but at least occasionally for travel or work, or something else going on, so let’s take the morning person argument off the table.
Many photographers and photography sites seem to favor sunrise – better light, or at least cleaner light I suppose. Maybe that’s true, but to my naked eye? I don’t see the difference.
So what is the difference? Maybe it’s more metaphysical and less about color and light.
Who doesn’t like sunrise and the start of a new day? Poetry and quotes are filled with “wisdom” on this subject – The symbolism of darkness going back to light. The chance to pursue new opportunities with a clean slate. The promise of a new day and all that entails. The stillness of a new morning, that perhaps gives us the chance to think clearly and cleanly, almost as if the morning dew washed away our cobwebs from the night. This is stuff that reaches out to our core and there are elements of truth in all of it.
Sunrise at Rohan Farm one day this winter
Ah, but sunsets… They provide a close to the day and our activities. They let us take a small pause as we watch the setting sun, reflect back on the day, and maybe think about what did, or didn’t, happen that day. And if we are with others? I’ve learned over the years that for me, nothing says fellowship, like drinking a “sundowner” with friends while watching the dying light of day. That shared feeling of quiet and peacefulness is pretty wonderful. The warmth of those feelings often extend into the evening hours. And of course, most of us see many more sunsets than sunrises over the course of our lives.
A Sunset in Africa last fall
As I think about it now, the feelings I experience at sunrise and sunset are different. I hadn’t thought about it before, but it’s real and it’s true. I guess I’d sum it up as thinking about new beginnings versus a time of reflection. How do you choose between those two versions of truth?
This is, quite frankly, too much thought about things that happen everyday. And of course, we don’t generally talk about, or remember those sunrises and sunsets happening in the rain, or the fog, or on a cloudy day. Most of us will experience 20,000-30,000 sunrises and sunsets over the course of our lives. I think it’s OK that not all of them are “perfect”. 😉
The call came at about 3:40AM in late February, 1979. I answered the phone, “LT Hall.” – “Max, this is Captain Ward. A Lariat Advance Alert was called at 3:25AM this morning.” – “Got it sir – on my way.” I called my Platoon Sergeant, Paul Teague to notify him, and kissed Cathy goodbye, with a “See you when I can”. I was out the door for the drive to Hindenburg Kaserne by 3:50AM.
We lived in the little town of Helmstadt, Germany, about 15 minutes from Hindenburg Kaserne (Barracks, or Army Post) in Würzburg. My mind raced on the drive to the barracks.
LT Hall in 1979
This was my first Lariat Advance. I’d joined the 123D Signal Battalion, 3rd Infantry Division in January of ‘79. A Lariat Advance was a US Armed Forces Cold War mobilization alert in Germany. The thing was, you never knew if it was a drill, or in response to a real world situation. If just a practice, it might be called off after a couple of hours. BUT, you could also deploy and link up with the unit you supported (2nd Brigade, 3ID in my case), or even deploy to your General Defense Plan (GDP) location. For my platoon, that was near the village of Hof, and the Hof Gap on the the Czech/East German border. The Hof Gap was considered a major Armor Route for a Russian invasion of West Germany. The pucker factor increased significantly if you deployed there on an alert.
My unit, B Company, 2nd Platoon, was always the first unit scheduled for departure, as we had farther to go. We would depart two hours after the alert was originally called. In this case, we needed to be lined up at the Kaserne Gate and ready to go at 5:25AM.
Main Gate, Hindenburg Kaserne
I arrived at the Kaserne a few minutes after 4:00AM. As I climbed out of the car, I promptly locked my keys in the car. “D@mn!” I stood looking at the car, shaking the door when one of my squad leaders, Sergeant Santos ran by and called out – “Yo, L.T. (Pronounced Ell-Tee), what’s up?” – “I locked my keys in the car.” He stopped, looked at me for a second and then said, “Forget ‘em. We’ll get them later – we gotta go!”
He was right, of course. I left the car and ran to the Company HQ and checked in with the CO. Next, over to the Armorer, where I picked up my .45 pistol, and finally, I ran back outside and over to our Platoon Bay. It was probably about 4:15AM.
Sergeant Teague had also just arrived and he gave me a status report. About 80% of our troops were on the Kaserne, with the others expected shortly. We then looked at our vehicles’ status. Our platoon had around 20 vehicles in all – a combination of jeeps, a 2 1/2 Ton truck (the Deuce) and several Gamma Goats. Gamma Goats were six wheeled vehicles that could, at least in theory, perform off road much like a tank, or other tracked vehicle. We needed to determine which deadlined vehicles could be made readily available, by cannibalizing* other deadlined vehicles. We agreed that of our four deadlined Gamma Goats we could maybe get three ready, and still make the 5:25 departure time.
A Gamma Goat, with Comm Shelter
The next half hour was total chaos. By then, all of our troops but one were on the Kaserne and had picked up their weapons. We continued loading both personal and platoon equipment into our vehicles. Cases of C-rations were loaded into the Deuce, along with other supplies. Two of the deadlined vehicles were fixed, but we were still having problems with the third. Somewhere in there, we received word we would deploy to Kitzingen, and link up with 2nd Brigade’s HQ elements. It was now 4:55AM, a half hour before departure.
Suddenly, a feeling of great calm and clarity settled over me. The world seemingly slowed down. Sergeant Teague and I agreed it was too late to fix the last vehicle and to hell with it, we would roll with what we had. We held a quick meeting with our three section leaders and strip maps to Kitzingen were passed out for each of the vehicles (remember this was all pre cellphones or google maps). We lined up the vehicles in the motor pool and proceeded to the gate, with my Jeep in the lead. Sergeant Teague was in the last Jeep at the end of the convoy. At 5:15, we were at the gate where the Battalion Commander, Colonel Swedish and Command Sergeant Major Johnson greeted us. We spoke briefly and they wished us good luck.
5:25AM came, and we rolled. The rest of the day passed in a bit of a blur. Google maps says the drive from Würzburg to Kitzingen takes a half hour, but at convoy speed, it probably took us about an hour. We arrived and I reported in to the 2nd Brigade Operations Officer (S3). Then, as is often true in the Army, we sat and waited. And waited. I stayed in touch with the Brigade S3, and also with my Company Commander via FM radio. After a couple of hours passed, we received word it was a drill, and perhaps another two hours later, we were released and returned to Hindenburg Kaserne.
The drive back took another hour. Once back at Hindenburg, we offloaded all of our equipment, washed our vehicles, and then topped all of them off with fuel, so they were ready to go. Cannibalized parts were returned to their original vehicles. A weapons count was done by the armorer, and it was verified all weapons were turned in and accounted for.
I reported to Company Headquarters that all recovery tasks were completed. Once all three platoons were finished, Captain Ward let me know we could dismiss the troops, which I did.
By now, it was late afternoon or early evening, and my keys were still locked in the car. I started thinking about how I was going to get home, when Sergeant Santos came up. “Hey L.T. Let’s get those keys.” – “Sure, how are going to do that?” Ramos just smiled, and then pulled a Slim Jim** out of his jacket. Two minutes later, the door was open, and I had my keys. I thanked him, and decided right then and there, I didn’t need to know why he owned a Slim Jim.
A Slim Jim – Need your car door opened?
With Russia and the Ukraine in the news, I was thinking about that first Lariat Advance. Forty years ago, we were concerned about, and prepping for war with, the USSR. After The Berlin Wall fell in 1989 and the Cold War ended, I thought those days were behind us, at least for Europe. With Mr. Putin’s current aggression, that no longer seems the case. I’ve been thinking about an Intelligence flyer that came out, right after The Wall fell, warning us about the long term goals of the Russians:
“We will Smash them with our clenched fist.”
It is no longer Communism against capitalism, but it is still Russia versus the West. Sometimes the more things change, the more they stay the same. I’m wishing Godspeed and safety to all of our troops.
Addendum:
• Cannibalize – If a vehicle was determined to have a safety issue, or something major wrong with it during operations or an inspection, it was put on the deadline report and the appropriate parts were ordered. You were not allowed to drive deadlined vehicles, until they were repaired. In the event of an alert, you “Cannibalized” one of the vehicles to remove parts to put in the remaining vehicles. It might be something as simple as a brake signal bulb (safety feature), or something more serious like a transmission problem. Cannibalization was frowned upon, as you could literally reduce one of your vehicles to a pile of parts in order to fix other vehicles. That one vehicle would stay on deadline forever. This is why we were to return cannibalized parts to the original vehicle when we returned to the Kaserne.
• **Slim Jim – For those unaware, a Slim Jim is a slender device used to break into a car by fishing down the side of window and into the door for the locking mechanism.
Embarrassment is what started it. Well, embarrassment, a class in Stochastic Communications and Trout Almandine. In 1984, I started learning how to cook, largely after being embarrassed at a friend’s house on a Sunday afternoon.
Last week, I published a blog about cooking a German dish, Erbseneintopf (Split Pea Soup) in 1982, and I received notes from several friends asking if that’s when I started learning to cook. The answer was no, that didn’t really come till later.
It’s true Erbseneintopf was the first recipe I collected, but as to cooking, my skills were limited. Yea, I could do steaks, brats, and burgers on the grill, but not much else. Cathy did the vast majority of cooking for us, and that (from my view point) seemed to work out fine.
Things changed in 1984.
The Army, in it’s infinite wisdom, sent me to Grad School to pursue a master’s degree in Electrical Engineering. I was in the Army Signal Corps and they were looking for engineers to help with the new field of Computer Networks. We all take the Internet and computer networks for granted now, but back then, it was brand new, except for some research networks like The Arpanet, a DoD funded network.
Captain Hall, The Future “Cook”. The Photo was Taken During my Time at Grad School.
As I started my graduate program, something quickly became obvious. My math skills were rusty and needed work. I’d studied calculus, differential equations, linear equations, and probability and statistics at West Point, but that was several years before and I’d forgotten most of it.
In the fall of 1984, I was required to take a class in Stochastic Communications – it was a theory class about how communication systems act in the presence of noise, and was very math heavy. A friend of mine, Gerry, was also taking the class and we often studied together to understand the math.
One Sunday afternoon, Gerry was at my house and we were working through some tough problems. At some point, I said, “Hey, feel like some dinner? How about if I order us a pizza?” Gerry agreed, and I ordered a pizza from the Pizza Hut just down the road. When they delivered the pie, we took a break and had a beer with our dinner. Eventually, we resumed our studies, and then quit an hour or two later.
Nothing Says Fine Dining Like a Pizza from Pizza Hut…
A couple of weeks later on another Sunday afternoon, we were studying at Gerry’s apartment. Eventually, we were getting hungry and Gerry said “How about a break for dinner?”, to which I readily agreed. I expected him to pick up the phone. Instead he said, “Come on, let’s go to the kitchen.”
We arrived in the kitchen and after opening a bottle of wine and pouring two glasses, he proceeded to the fridge where he pulled out some trout filets and asparagus. He then brought out some almonds, garlic, and God only knows what else from his cabinets. What? Was he actually going to cook a dinner?
Gerry spent the next half hour or so preparing the meal, while we continued drinking and talking. He toasted the almonds, sautéed some garlic and eventually pan fried the trout, while sautéing the asparagus in another pan. Half an hour later, it all came together on our two plates with the almonds scattered over the trout and the asparagus served on the side.
Trout Almandine with Asparagus on the Side – a Treat from my Friend, Gerry.
Holy Cow! A real meal, and a great one. I believe I was in a bit of shock. Thinking back to the Pizza Hut pizza I’d served two weeks before, I was also a bit embarrassed.
On the way home, I thought to myself, “What the hell is wrong with this picture? A bachelor comes to a married guy’s house and has delivery pizza from a chain restaurant for dinner, while the married guy goes to the bachelor’s house and has a gourmet meal!?!?” Right then and there, I decided I needed to learn how to cook.
And so, my cooking journey began. Cathy still did most of the cooking, but I started cooking some as well, especially on weekends. I’d find different recipes to try and slowly expanded my repertoire. I also started collecting cookbooks, some basic, some focused on specific cuisines. I went through bread and muffin phases, German and French phases, Vegetarian, Stir Fry’s, and eventually Indian curries, among other recipes.
Just a Few of the Couple Dozen Cookbooks I Now Own
I found I enjoyed cooking, and I started to cook decently, but man, was I a messy cook. I knew nothing about “Mise en place” (prepping things ahead of time), or cleaning as you go. While I could turn out a great meal, the kitchen was a disaster. Cathy’s mom said something to Cath about it one time, and Cathy basically told her to be quiet, I was at least cooking some of the meals now. 😉
Eventually I retired from work around 2015, and and over time, started cooking my share of our meals. I also learned about Mise en place and cleaning the kitchen as I cooked. It only took me about 30 years to learn those two basic lessons. Better late than never, I guess.
So, that’s my story. Who knows, If I hadn’t been rusty in math and in need of help, maybe none of this would have happened. You don’t always know what will send you down a different pathway in life. I’m glad I discovered this one.
Addendum:
⁃ Strangely, there is no Trout Almandine recipe in my collection of recipes. I never asked Gerry for it at the time. If I’m making it now, I use a variation of a recipe I found online. C’est la vie…
– Gerry went on to get his PhD in Electrical Engineering – he was a smart guy about many things. Unfortunately, over the years, we lost touch with each other.
The oldest recipe in my recipe collection is for Erbseneintopf – a German Split Pea Soup. It came from TheStars and Stripes newspaper in Germany in ‘82 or ‘83, and is now a bit tattered. The first time I tasted the soup in a Gasthaus, I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. Getting the recipe was a bonus.
Erbseneintopf. The word and the soup are both a mouthful. Erbseneintopf literally translates to “Pea One-Pot”, and is really closer to a stew. Made properly, it is a thick soup with little chunks of sausage or ham hock in it. I’m not talking the puny American ham hocks, but the big German kind – meaty and smoky. The meat gives the stew a wonderful flavor. It’s a simple, hearty meal.
I believe the first time I had the dish was in a little village near Stuttgart, although I can’t remember the name of the town, or the Gasthaus, for the life of me. At the time, we often went for a walk in the woods on a Sunday afternoon, as many Germans did, and then would stop at a nearby Gasthaus for a late lunch, and a beer or two. We’d usually have some sort of simple meal – a bratwurst, or goulash soup, or some charcuterie and cheese. On one of those trips, it started snowing. Eventually we made it back to the village and the Gasthaus, where Erbseneintopf was on the menu, and despite the green color, I gave it a try. It was delicious. It became one of those dishes that stayed in my mind and I started looking for it on the menu anytime we went to a new Gasthaus – especially in winter.
Cathy, Top and I, probably in ‘82, outside a Gasthaus as it was snowing one Sunday
There were a few other dishes that stuck in my brain back then, and I would stalk them for a while – eating the dish anytime I saw it on a new place’s menu. One of those was Cordon Bleu. I spent a couple of years looking for the perfect Cordon Bleu during our travels across Germany, France and Northern Italy, and dragged visiting friends with me on my quest. Another dish was Käsespätzle, basically a German adult version of Mac ‘n Cheese, with homemade noodles, onions and cheese – It was total comfort food and a bazillion calories.
Cordon Bleu, käsespätzle, schnitzel, wurst, certain kinds of steak, pommes frites (french fries) and a host of other dishes all became a part of our life. We loved German food, but never tried cooking it at home. I’m not sure why. Maybe we knew we couldn’t match what we were eating in the Gasthauses.
Then one day, the world changed. Around 1982, our local military newspaper, The Stars and Stripes*, started a monthly feature with recipes for different German dishes. Some were simple, some more complicated. I’d read the recipes, but didn’t really think much about them, and then one day, they published several soup recipes – Gulaschsuppe, Linseneintopf (Lentil Soup), Tomatencremesuppe (Tomato Soup), and at the bottom of the page – a recipe for Erbseneintopf! I promptly cut the recipe out of the paper.
A little faded, and tattered, but the recipe works just fine.
This was most excellent. I spoke with a German friend about the recipe and she thought it looked authentic. Her one suggestion was to swap out the boiled ham called for in the recipe and replace it with chopped up ham hock, or some smoky local German sausage. It was a good suggestion.
A week or two later, we made the dish for the first time and lightning struck. We couldn’t believe how much it tasted like the restaurant version. The ham hocks provided the smokiness, while the “Melbutter” (see recipe – a mixture of flour and butter) thickened the soup. This baby was a keeper. At the time it was actually one of the very few dishes I cooked, or could cook. Yea, I did steaks, burgers and brats on the grill, but cooking something in the kitchen? I was out of my league there. This soup was probably just about it.
A bowl of Erbseneintopf. Still delicious, after all these years.
Erbseneintopf has remained a part of my winter repertoire ever since. I’ve only made one change since cooking it that first time. Here in the States, it’s sometimes hard to find good German sausage, or ham hocks with a bit more meat on them. As a result, I often substitute a smoked turkey leg for the ham hocks. It gets the job done.
Looking for a good winter soup on a cold, snowy day? Erbseneintopf might be just what you need. It’s peasant food at it’s best. As with many soups and stews, it’s even better on the second day.
Addendum:
⁃ * The Stars and Stripes newspaper was first published during the Civil war. Later, it was delivered to US forces in France during WWI, and became an overseas fixture during WWII. It continued through Korea and Vietnam, and is still published at overseas military locations to this day, although there were discussions during the Trump presidency of cancelling it (it wasn’t). It operates from inside DoD, but is editorially separate and independent from it. The newspaper has been published continuously in Europe since 1942.
⁃ I also struck pay dirt a month or two later when The Stars and Stripes published recipes for Spätzle and Käsespätzle, and our friends Jim and Res bought us a Spätzlemaker for Christmas. The Spätzlemaker is 40 years old now, and in great shape. We still use it a couple times of year.
⁃ My friend Tim Stouffer reminds me occasionally about my Cordon Bleu quest. He visited Cath and I several times throughout the ‘80s. On at least a couple of those visits, I know I inflicted my obsession with Cordon Bleu on him.
It’s good to keep memories alive, and laugh and cry for those we have lost. It’s also good to remember that life is for the living – to try and savor each and every day, and the time we have with those we love.
Before New Year’s Eve 2021, the last time we were all together was almost three years ago at the 2019 Anderson Valley (California) Pinot Festival. The difference was there were six of us then, and only four of us now. Don passed away in October of 2019, and Kim in August of 2021. I like to think Kim and Don were with us in spirit this year. We certainly ate and drank enough to cover them. 😉
Don and Kim at the 2019 Anderson Valley Pinot Festival
Cathy’s sister Bonnie married Don in ‘96 and the four of us were great friends from then on. They introduced us to their friends Kim and John, perhaps ten or fifteen years ago. Over the ensuing years, we saw Kim and John just about every time we visited California. Inevitably they would spend a couple of days at Bonnie and Don’s when we were in town. Often it was for either the annual Anderson Valley Pinot Festival, or perhaps the winter white wine Alsace Festival, but there were also a couple of Christmases or New Year’s Eves in the mix.
In 2018, the Californians all came to Virginia for a vacation over New Years and we again enjoyed fun times. It’s always wonderful when you find people you get along with in multiple locations and over time – you realize you are a part of the same tribe. At the time, we talked about the six of us linking up at Kim and John’s vacation place in Hawaii, “sometime in the future.”
New Year’s Eve Menu at Rohan Farm in 2018
The following May, we were all together again at Bonnie and Don’s for the 2019 Pinot Festival. Kim was dealing with cancer, but it didn’t slow her, or us, down. At the time, we of course didn’t realize it was the last time all six of us would be together.
Pinot Festival 2019! From the left – Don, John, Kim, Cathy and Bonnie.
Don passed away five months after that Pinot Festival and Kim a little over two years later in August of ‘21. Covid provided an overlay for all of that time. We had reservations for Pinot Festival in May of ‘20 and ‘21, but it was cancelled both years due to Covid.
Time Passed.
We came to California this year for Bonnie’s birthday and to celebrate New Year’s Eve, and were delighted to find out that John would join us for both of those events.
We arrived first, and John drove up from Santa Cruz a couple of days later. The time passed in a whirlwind of fun, food, wine, poker games, walks and talks. We of course remembered and talked about Don and Kim throughout our time together. For John, it had only been 4 months or so since Kim passed away – they were married for 53 years. Bonnie and Don had 23 years together. As she noted, it’s not easy, and everything takes time. On New Year’s Eve, we toasted Kim with one of her favorite wines. On New Year’s Day, we went to Point Arena for a hike and toasted Don with beers and some tasty pizza.
Good Times Celebrating Bonnie’s Birthday on Dec 29th in Healdsburg, and later on New Year’s Day at Point Arena
We also spoke about many other things and didn’t forget to enjoy life and the time we were having together. John invited Cathy and I to Hawaii again. There was laughter and joking, smiles and stories. We kept old memories alive, while also making new ones. It was good to be with the tribe again. We consumed our fair share of food and al’ahol over the five days we spent together.
John eventually left for the drive back to Santa Cruz. There were hugs all around and promises to see each other sooner rather than later. John made sure to invite us to Hawaii again and we readily agreed to give serious consideration for a trip there.
It’s good to keep memories alive, and laugh and cry for those we have lost. It’s also good to remember that life is for the living – to try and savor each and every day, and the time we have with those we love. As the days fly by, I want to race with the wind and also stop and smell the roses. Can you do both? I want to keep trying.
—-
Ecclesiastes 5:18-20 – Even so, I have noticed one thing that is good. It is good for people to eat well, drink a good glass of wine and enjoy their work – whatever they do under the sun – for however long God lets them live. To enjoy your work and accept your life, that is indeed a gift from God. People who do this rarely look with sorrow on the past, for God has given them reason for joy.
Punk turns sixty this week. Yep, that’s correct. Punk, also known as Bonnie, Bon, Bonswa, Lana’s mom, Don’s wife, and one half of ‘The Sisters of no Mercy’ turns sixty this week. For Cathy and I, she is the youngest of all of our sisters and we are happy to finally welcome her to middle age – ;-). Come on in Bonnie, the water is fine…
Truth be told, I’ve known Bonnie for most of my life, and hers. When Cathy and I started dating in ‘72, Bonnie was ten years old, and known in their family as “Punk”. I don’t think anyone has called her that in a long time.
Bonnie, around the time we first met
When we married in ‘78, Bonnie was all of sixteen and at the wedding, held her own with the newly commissioned officers in attendance, and all of our long time friends. In ‘83, when we returned after almost five years in Germany, she was of legal age – twenty-one, living near Washington DC and was married. That’s when I remember our relationship starting to change. She was no longer just Cath’s punk sister – she had become an adult in her own right. It was really the start of an adult friendship between us, something I’ve treasured ever since.
Bonnie at our wedding in ‘78, with my classmate Tom Guthrie
In our second tour of Germany, Bonnie enjoyed Multiple trips to Europe and even a Christmas. She was present and an integral participant at the initial Hare-of-the-Dog New Year’s Day party. When we returned to the States in ‘89, Bonnie was still in her twenties. Two years later, we attended the combined party for her thirtieth birthday and her graduation from the University of Maryland. That was a fun night – I seem to remember a bottle of Dom Perignon at some point.
Never one to let the grass grow under her feet, Bonnie moved to California a year or two later. There, she really launched her marketing career, her firm, B3 Communications, was established and she met the love of her life, Don. For the next almost twenty five years, the four of us were the best of friends. We named ourselves the 4-H club and had “meetings” on the East Coast, West Coast, and places in between. Those good times still bring a smile to my face.
Good times with the 4H Club
In 2003, Cathy and I celebrated our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary with a large party, which Bonnie and Don attended. During the evening’s festivities, Bonnie disappeared for a bit. When she reappeared later to make a speech congratulating us, she was wearing her Bridesmaid’s dress, and carrying her parasol from our wedding twenty-five years before. At the age of forty-two, she was happy to inform anyone who would listen that, “Yes, the dress still fits; I didn’t have to alter it!” 😉
Yes, the dress still fit, 25 years later.
Of course Lana joined Bonnie and Don along the way in 2005 and we changed from the 4-H Club to the 5-H Club.
Bonnie and Lana
I now chuckle slightly at the fact that as Bonnie turns sixty, Lana is sixteen – the same age Bonnie was when Cathy and I married. How is it even possible? Seriously, how is that even possible? Where did the time go?
So, yea, Punk turns sixty this week. We look forward to celebrating the big day with her out in California. Good food, great wine, loving family and friends – It’s going to be wonderful.
Happy Birthday Punk!
Happy Birthday Punk! I love you as if you are one of my own sisters, and also one of my best friends. On the last day of your 59th year, I want to welcome you to the start of your seventh decade – jump on in, the water is just fine.
Addendum:
Thanks to Lana Harris for the use of the picture of Bonnie and their Dog, Ruby for the cover photo.
Thanks to Paula Johnson Hamley for the picture of Bonnie in the 5th Grade, around the time we met. I clipped the picture to just get Bonnie, but the whole picture (below) is too cute to pass up. They had just been selected as the 5th Grade Students of the Month in Mr. Herman’s class at Shabbona Grade School in Ottawa Illinois.
It’s funny what sparks a memory. For me, the Christmas song Up on the Housetop, with it’s chorus of “Ho ho ho, who wouldn’t go, Up on the housetop, click, click, click, down through the chimney with good Saint Nick…”, instantly floods me with holiday memories from my youth. I fondly remember McKinley Grade School in Ottawa, and our Principal, Mr Powell.
‘Tis the season. Don’t we all really remember the Christmases from our childhood? I know I do. The Christmases at McKinley, on the southside of Ottawa, Illinois were special. We ALL remember them.
McKinley was originally a small two story wooden school house. Eventually, in the late fifties, it was replaced with a large, one story brick building. The new school included an indoor gymnasium, with a small elevated stage on one side. Both would figure prominently in the school’s Christmas celebrations.
McKinley School Teachers for 1959/60. Mr Powell is second from the right in the second row. The photo is probably from about two years after the new school building opened.
Our excitement started sometime in early December. Christmas was approaching, which of course meant an upcoming break, and if we were lucky, the chance to go sledding, or maybe skating on the pond at Varland’s pasture. Almost as exciting was the Christmas Show the school presented, just before the break. The teachers told us about the upcoming show, and each class was assigned a song to sing. We stared practicing on a daily basis.
A large evergreen tree eventually arrived at the school and was placed prominently on one side of the gym. Of course, it needed decorating. Where did the ornaments come from? They were handmade by the students. Yes, there were the obligatory construction paper chains from the younger classes, but another source of ornaments proved a favorite memory for many. Milk, in individual glass bottles was delivered to school each day. Those bottles had blue or silver foil caps. We collected the caps and then made stars, ornaments, or strings of ornaments from them. Oh how they shined and sparkled in the reflected light on the tree.
Foil milk bottle caps similar to these made perfect tree ornaments
The excitement grew, and a few days before our break, there were gift exchanges in each of the classrooms. The gifts weren’t big of course, but it was still fun and increased our anticipation.
As the date of the show approached, we kids practiced our songs. The week of the show, the entire school gathered in the gym a few times to practice, and also to sing “songs of the season” together. Those daytime sessions were great fun. All of the kids marched by class to the gymnasium, and then we’d sit on the floor facing the stage. Everyone was in a giddy mood with much laughter, yelling and barely contained excitement. Each class practiced their songs, but in between, Mr. Powell would lead the entire school in Christmas and Holiday songs. He stood in front of us near the tree, wearing a holiday bow tie. I think he was as excited as we were.
When leading the songs, he also acted some of them out. One example several friends remember was singing the song Up on the Housetop*. As the chorus was sung, Mr. Powell would stick his belly out and while placing both hands over his stomach, sing in his deep baritone “Ho ho ho, who wouldn’t go, ho ho ho, who wouldn’t go…”. When the next line “Up on the housetop, click, click, click, Down through the chimney with good Saint Nick” was sung, he clicked his fingers three times instead of actually singing “click, click, click.” Of course, all of us kids quickly caught on, and did the same thing – imagine a couple hundred kids all clicking in time with the chorus, and you get the picture.
The songs we sang at the time included both religious and secular Christmas songs. One student who is Jewish, remembered feeling special because we would inevitably sing one or two Hannukah songs. It was a simpler time.
Eventually, it was time to return to our classrooms, but the singing wasn’t quite over. Mr. Powell would start us singing an old English folk song Christmas is Coming, with the opening line “Christmas is coming, the geese are getting fat…” The song is meant to be sung as a round, which is exactly what we did. I believe we were divided into thirds, with each group starting one line after the previous group started. Once we had sung “around” a couple of times, the classes were dismissed, one grade at a time, with each class singing the song all the way back to their classroom.
For the younger kids, there was often a bit of confusion on the lyrics. Instead of “…if you haven’t got a ha’penny, God bless you…”, they heard “if you haven’t got a hay penny God Bless a shoe…” What was a Hay Penny? Why were we blessing shoes? It could all be a bit confusing, but the fun and good spirits made up for it.
Finally it was the big day of the Christmas Show. It was also the day before Christmas break started. Excitement was at a fevered pitch.
The evening program was a bit more formal than our daytime singalongs. It wasn’t quite the Christmas Show from the movie Love Actually – McKinley School was a bit more primitive, but we did have a stage, and the adults sat on folding chairs set up on the gym floor itself. As kids, we dressed in our “good clothes” for the big night. Our parents brought treats and cookies for the classrooms.
While the adults found their seats in the gymnasium, we kids walked to our classrooms, waiting for our turn to sing. My friend Joy remembers sitting at her desk eating cookies and coloring (after smelling) the newly mimeographed Christmas pictures. For the younger grades, there were also games that some of the parents (moms) helped with in the classrooms. Everyone wanted to make sure we kids were entertained, focused and staying out of trouble.
Finally the show started, with the Kindergarten classes singing first. My friend Lynn remembers “The big curtain opening was our cue to start singing. It was quite intimidating to see all the people “out there” sitting on folding chairs looking at us. We sang Away in a Manger and the little stage seemed huge.”
One of the classes always sang Oh Christmas Tree, Oh Christmas Tree in German (Oh Tannenbaum, Oh Tannenbaum…). How cool was that? Singing a Christmas song from another country!
The show eventually ended and parents picked up their children from the classrooms. Cookies were finished, and newly colored Christmas pictures served as visual reminders of the fun that night. During the short drive home, we were still animated. I suppose the stimulation from doing the show, along with the sugar rush of the cookies combined and kept us amped up for awhile.
As with all things, time passed and the world changed – not for better or worse, but changed none-the-less. Mr Powell retired. The huge tree was replaced with two smaller artificial trees for fire safety. Eventually, the festivities changed from a secular Christmas celebration to a Holiday celebration, which was the right thing to do.
One teacher later reminisced “We teachers loved the singing almost more than you kids! We continued the tradition after Mr. Powell retired, but it was never quite the same.”
I’ve been gone from Ottawa for many years now, and to be honest, I don’t know if they have the Holiday celebration in the gym anymore. What I do know is I have wonderful memories from my youth that I wouldn’t trade for anything.
I’ll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams… Christmas is coming, the geese are getting fat, Please put a penny in the old man’s hat…
Addendum:
There is some question/controversy among my friends about whether the title of the song is Up on the Housetop or Up on the Rooftop. Folk seemingly remember singing it both ways. For what it’s worth, the song is referenced in Wikipedia as Up on Housetop. It was written in 1864 andis the second-oldest secular Christmas songafter Jingle Bells, which was written in 1857.
I had some memories from those special times at McKinley, but of course forgot lots too, until reminded by others about some of the activities. My thanks to the many who contributed memories to this blog, including: students Lisa Palmer Braley, Brenda Brown, Karen Williams Miller, Robert Cavanaugh, Linda Baker, Dorey Renee, Glenda Boettcher, Laurie Sargent Kinken, Mary Cunningham Heider, Kelly Nagle Shanley, Barbara Charlier Houston, LeeAnn Slack Niemann, Lynne Galley Robinson, Becky Ann, Roberta Sherman Schwandner. Jan Butler, Robert Cross, Linda Gerding Bergman, Joy Starjak Algate, Jessica Burress, Roberta Gourley, Tanya McCambridge, Tim Stouffer, and Howard Johnson, along with teachers Charlean Grobe and Sylvia Eichelkraut.
Thanks to Mrs Charlean Grobe for the photo of the McKinley School Teachers in 59-60! Charlean was my Kindergarten Teacher, one year later! She is second from the left in the second row in the picture.
I made Risotto last week. Due to some changes in diet, it was the first time in over a year and it was wonderful. Risotto isn’t hard to make, and it doesn’t take long, but it does require patience and attention. You can’t rush risotto, and to me, that is why making it is both relaxing and a bit zen like.
I’ve been making risotto for years, and have several different recipes. It was a staple part of our dinner rotation. And then about a year ago, I had a couple of blood tests that caused some concern. After engaging in bilateral discussions with my doctor* (… 😉 … ) , I made significant diet changes, and drastically reduced dairy and carbs. Some things were easy, like changing from regular milk to oat milk. Unfortunately, cheese was practically it’s own food group for me, so that required a fair amount of mental adjustment. Pasta, potatoes, white rice, and bread? All eliminated, or severely reduced. I went cold turkey, and just did it. The good news was that after three months, the test results were back to normal, and six months later, they remained normal. As a side benefit, I lost about fifteen pounds.
Over the past six months, we’ve reintroduced small amounts of dairy and carbs into our diet. They’ve become “special” as opposed to every day, and it’s worked out fine. It turns out, sometimes, you can teach an old dog new tricks.
Last Thursday I had a series of follow-up fasting blood tests. I wouldn’t receive the results for a day or two, but decided to celebrate early and chose to make risotto for dinner that night. On the way home, I picked up some cream for the sauce, along with fresh bread from a local bakery. I mean what the hell, in for a penny, in for a pound. While I have several risotto recipes, there was no doubt in my mind about which one I would make – Ben’s Cognac Risotto – a favorite of ours, with mushrooms, shallots, cream, butter, and plenty of Parmesan cheese.
From start to finish, Ben’s Cognac Risotto takes about forty five minutes to an hour to make. As with most risottos, it’s not complicated, however, once you start cooking, you can’t walk away from the stove. You need to be present, both mentally and physically.
That evening , I started heating up the required chicken broth, chopped up the needed shallots and mushrooms, separately measured out the cognac and cream for the sauce, and then grated the Parmesan cheese necessary for the finish.
Shallots and Mushrooms – the Key to Ben’s Cognac Risotto…
The next step is an optional one, but I find it adds to the relaxing nature of making risotto. I walked over to the bar and made myself a martini. In what may be a strange coincidence, I’ve learned that the time it takes to drink a martini, is almost exactly the same length of time it takes to make risotto. Not a martini fan? A Manhattan or Negroni will do, or even a glass of the red wine you opened to serve later with the risotto. Trust me on this. It works.
I made the mushroom sauce first and the kitchen filled with that heavenly smell only sautéed mushrooms can bring. After 5 minutes or so, I added the cognac and reduced it, and then added the cream and slowly reduced it some more. I set the sauce aside, and then started to work on the risotto itself. I also let Cathy know dinner would be ready in about twenty minutes, so she could finish setting the table, and pour some wine in our glasses.
Mushrooms, Cognac and Cream – What’s not to like?
After sautéing the shallots, I added the rice to the pan and stirred a bit. I started adding the broth, about a half a cup at a time, to the rice. Next? The ritual – Keep stirring the rice every few seconds; take a sip of martini; let the rice sit a little, then stir, and add the next portion of broth. And, repeat – Stir the broth into the rice, take a sip of martini, let the rice sit a bit, then stir, and add more broth. And repeat. And repeat. And repeat. A bit of zen zone settles in, or at least it does for me. It’s just me, the spoon, and the rice.
In the Zen Zone – Just me, the Spoon, and the Rice…
As I neared the last of the broth, I tasted the rice, checking for chewiness. You still have the mushroom sauce to add, so a little chewiness is OK. I know that if there’s a bit of broth left, it’s not a big deal.
Finally, It was time. I stirred the mushroom sauce into the rice, and let it thicken a bit. I then added the Parmesan and stirred some more. Cathy brought our bowls over, and I put some risotto into each of them, with another dusting of Parmesan on top of each. I took the last sip of my martini, grabbed the bread warming in the oven and crossed to the table. We clinked glasses and then settled into the wonderfulness that is Ben’s Cognac Risotto.
The Wonderfulness that is Ben’s Cognac Risotto…
Cathy asked me if we were maybe celebrating too early, since I hadn’t yet received my test results. I answered I felt good about the tests and wasn’t worried. Besides, it’s a good thing to occasionally celebrate life.
Late the next afternoon, although I hadn’t received a call from the doctor, I logged into my account at her office. The four test results were there – I quickly opened and scanned each of them. Everything was fine, and in fact a couple of tests showed further improvement from last June. The low dairy, low carb diet was working. It also appeared the occasional piece of cheese, serving of roasted potatoes, or bowl of risotto wasn’t having an overly adverse effect on me. I could live with this.
Live is the key word. I’ve reached the age where something is always breaking down, or going a bit haywire in my body. There is always some new thing I need to be aware of for my future health. While healthy over all, Cath and I both have issues that crop up. And of course we have friends who are dealing with greater issues – cancer, loss of eyesight, early onset dementia… getting older isn’t for the faint of heart. But you also have to live, and enjoy life in all of the ways you can. For me, the ritual of risotto is one of those ways, and I’m not ready to give up on it yet. We may not have it as often, but trust me, it’s still going to appear on the menu.
Otherwise, what’s the point?
Addendum:
– * As a side note, I love my doctor, Doctor Emman Hussny, and have been with her for a long time – around twenty years. When she left one practice to start her own, I moved with her. She has a great bedside manner, and encourages leading a healthier lifestyle, without being draconian about it. During checkups, we certainly have discussions about my health, but also discuss other topics of the day. I feel like she genuinely cares about me, and I’m not just another patient flowing through her office.
– Here’s the recipe for Ben’s Cognac Risotto – enjoy! If you want to tone it down a bit, you can substitute milk, or even 2% milk for the cream.
Next month, it will be 25 years since our first dog, Top, passed away. He was 17 years old at the time. Recently, I was thinking about him as we were placing baskets on couches and chairs, so our current dog, Carmen, couldn’t hop up for a quick snooze while we were out and about. We weren’t that smart with Top, and he took full advantage of our negligence. He was a covert couch sleeper the entire time he was with us.
Some of our German friends often said Top was “einmalig”, which translates to “one of a kind.” He was definitely that. We have tons of stories about him – eating a cherry (and only the cherry) off the top of a danish; chasing and catching bees; leaping out of a moving car while traveling with Cathy; earning the nickname “Deerslayer” from our running group; hating cats, except for Vincent, who lived next door to us; eating half a ham one Christmas, as Cathy and I were opening our presents; learning how to open an outside door and letting himself out for a walk… The list goes on. This story is about him outfoxing us and sleeping on the couch.
Top, Early in His Life
From day one, Top wasn’t allowed on the furniture, unless “asked”. That is, he sat in front of you, looked cute and stared at you. If you didn’t invite him to join you, he knew he wasn’t allowed on the furniture. And for all intents and purposes, he respected that rule … as long as we were at home. If we were out of the house, there were evidently a different set of rules. Top’s Rules. Since there was no one to ask, he presumed it was OK to grant himself permission, and would jump on the couch for a nap.
Through much of Top’s life, when we arrived home and opened the door, there he was, sitting in the entry way with his tail wagging, eager to see us. You could look over at the couch, see the indentation where he’d been sleeping and feel his warmth on the cushion. Of course we were never able to catch him. He was too clever for that. We drove Saabs for much of that time period, and although I could never prove it, I always suspected he recognized the unique engine noise of a Saab, and knew it was his cue to leave the couch.
As the years went by, Top grew older, and had some hearing loss. When you arrived home, turned the key in the lock and opened the door, you would hear him spring off the couch and run over to the entryway. There he greeted you, looking innocent. We didn’t catch him in the actual act of laying on the couch, and so ignored the transgression.
More time passed and he became a senior dog, getting deafer and a bit creakier. Now when we arrived home and opened the door, he would still be on the couch, just starting to sit up, looking sleepy and a bit chagrined. He’d hop down and walk over to greet us. We’d admonish him, but only a bit. Who could blame an old guy for wanting a soft and warm place to sleep?
In the last year or so of his life, his hearing was pretty much gone. We’d come home, unlock and open the door, and come inside. No dog to greet us, no dog springing off the couch and trotting over, no dog looking embarrassed and walking slowly to the door. We’d look at the couch, and there was Top, curled up in a ball sleeping, while softly snoring. We’d walk on in and quietly go about our business. If it was dinner time, we’d go to the couch and gently wake him for his evening meal. Otherwise, he’d snooze away a bit, and eventually wake up. He’d hop down and find us in the kitchen, or wherever, and walk up to say hello and receive a pet.
A few months later, it was time, and we eased him over the rainbow bridge. It was a sad day, weekend and month. As with all things, time eventually passed and the pain lessened.
Flowers we Received from our Friend, Don, at Top’s Passing
We still think of Top, laugh at his antics and tell his stories. Of course many of our friends have heard the stories more than once. Maybe because Top was “einmalig”, or maybe because he was our first dog, we tell more stories about him than any of our other pets. I’m sure they are a bit boring to others, but for me, it’s a way of keeping his memory alive. He’s been gone for 25 years now, but will never be gone from our hearts.
Addendum:
Here’s another blog about Top from the past. I don’t know if our dog Top could bark in both German and English, but he had a fluent understanding of the two languages … We discovered this outside our local Bäckerei (Bakery), when an old German lady bent down, looked at Top and said “Gib mir deine Pfote”. As she extended her hand, Top […]. Continue at: https://mnhallblog.wordpress.com/2020/07/15/our-bilingual-dog-top/
When we returned to the Chobe Game Lodge, we were still animated from our safari that afternoon. The manager asked us how it went, and we excitedly told him about the lions hunting the warthogs. He asked “Ahhh, and who did you bet on?”
We had arrived at the Lodge the afternoon before. Located in Chobe National Park, it’s a wonderful setting. The Park is particularly known for some of the largest elephant herds anywhere in the world and didn’t disappoint – we saw hundreds of elephant along the Chobe River on our drive to the Lodge that first day.
The next morning, we were on safari when our guide, Thuso*, received a radio call that lions were at a certain location near the river. We quickly changed our route and drove to the spot by the Chobe. Sure enough, there were a couple of female lions and we watched them, as they settled in for a sleep. We were told they had cubs, but the cubs stayed out of sight in the brush. For me, big cat sightings are always special, and this time was no exception.
Settling in for a Snooze
Eventually we moved on and resumed our planned route. For the rest of the morning we had the opportunity to see plenty of ellies, baboons and male Kudu. We’d seen plenty of female kudu on previous safaris, but it was a treat to see the males with their huge spiraling horns. Later, we returned to the Lodge for lunch, and siesta time.
I love the Kudu’s Spiraling Horns
When we left for our afternoon game drive, it was bittersweet. After three weeks of travel, this was the final safari of the vacation and our friends, Bill and Sharon, would fly back to the States the next day. We made a joke with Thuso about it being our last safari, and we hoped she could make it special. She laughed, and then said “Let’s go back and check on the lions. I doubt they moved during the heat of the day.”
Our Wonderful Guide, Thuso
We drove for twenty minutes or so and arrived back at the location of the lion sighting from that morning. As we pulled around a corner, there they were, not two, but seven lions sleeping or lounging in the shade. We watched for the next twenty minutes, as the pride woke up, and started moving around. It was fascinating to see their nonchalance as they slowly stood, stretched and nuzzled one another.
The Pride Starts Coming to Life
The matriarch of the pride eventually crossed the path in front of us and strolled to a nearby stream for a drink of water. Thuso quietly said “I think she is on the hunt.” and pointed out two warthogs, perhaps two hundred yards away, foraging along the bank of the Chobe River. As the lion drank from the stream, her view was fixed on the warthogs. She crossed the stream, and after sitting briefly, slowly started covering the distance to her prey.
The Lioness was Keeping her Focus on The Task at Hand
Meanwhile, while there was no apparent communication, the rest of the pride slowly stood up, and one by one, at perhaps one or two minute intervals, crossed the road, and made their way to the stream for a drink, and then oh so slowly, followed the matriarch’s lead.
As the matriarch proceeded towards the warthogs, she occasionally slowed or stopped, or shrunk down to the ground. The rest of the lions followed her lead and acted similarly. While she moved on a straight line to the warthogs, the rest of the pride slowly spread to the left as they crossed the stream. With the River on the far side preventing the warthogs movement in that direction, the lions spread in a lazy “L” to the left, creating something of a classic ambush setup. The warthogs were blocked in on three sides and oblivious to what was about to happen. We were barely breathing as we watched the lions set up the attack.
The Lions Set Up a Classic Ambush Pattern
The matriarch was pretty much low crawling at this point. Finally, she was perhaps fifteen yards from the nearest warthog. She paused, then, with a leap, charged the warthogs. And…
Two of the Lions and One of the Warthogs. Note the Lead Lion in the Crouch
Do you remember watching the Roadrunner cartoons as a kid? When the roadrunner disappears in a flash of speed and a cloud of dust? That is exactly what the warthogs did. The warthogs turned to the left, turned on their afterburners (who knew warthogs had afterburners!?!) and were gone. I swear, they moved 50 yards instantly. The lead lion raced for perhaps ten yards, and then just stopped. The other lions didn’t do much more than stand up to join the chase, and immediately stopped as well. We watched the dust trails form behind the warthogs as they raced parallel to the Chobe River. They were quickly out of sight and all we saw was their dust lingering in the air.
We were silent for a second, and then all of us burst out laughing and talking at the same time. Of all the possible outcomes, this was one we had never anticipated. The lions had a great setup, they had three sides blocked, and yet, the warthogs made their escape, and made it look easy.
We eventually continued on our safari and saw several more animals, but the hunt didn’t leave us. Even as we drank our last sundowners that evening, the lions and the warthogs dominated the conversation. We had spent close to an hour watching the hunt. It would have been hard to find a better way to end our final safari of the vacation.
The Perfect Ending to our Last Safari with Bill and Sharon. We were Still Laughing about the Lions and the Warthogs
Returning to the Lodge, we were still animated. We saw the manager and he asked us how the afternoon went. We quickly and excitedly told him about the lions hunting the warthogs. He asked “Ahhh, and who did you bet on?” We looked at each other and all of sheepishly admitted we mentally bet on the lions. He chuckled, and then with a smile, said “Never bet against the Warthog.”
Addendum:
⁃ * Thuso was the first female guide we had on this trip, or on our previous trip to Africa. In fact, all of the Guides at the Chobe Game Lodge are female. They must meet the same exact standards of schooling, tests and field work as the male guides. She was an excellent guide – as good as any of our previous guides at the other locations.
⁃ Thanks to Bill Reichhardt for the great photo of the stalking lions. When I asked him whether he had any pics of the hunt, he replied “This shot shows two of the lions and the intended prey – the super speedy warthog – just before he turned on the afterburners. I didn’t have a fast enough shutter speed set for that.” ;-). If you want to see more of Bill’s wonderful photos from Africa, you can view them here: http://billreichphoto.com/
⁃ This is the eighth and final blog about our 2021 trip to Africa. The previous blogs are listed here, in the reverse order of their publishing.
⁃ This is the second time we have used Karen Dewhurst, of Sikeleli Travel & Expeditions as our travel consultant. After working with her in 2018, there was no doubt we would use her and Sikeleli again. All accommodations were amazing, the food and wine excellent, the logistics and travel arrangements perfect and the animal viewing exceeded all expectations. If you are coming to this part of the world, I highly recommend her and them. You can reach Karen at: karen@sikelelitravel.com | (+27) 81 067 1094 (South Africa). Their overall website is at: https://sikelelitravel.com/ .
Live Life Exuberantly 