RETREAT TO YOUR SANCTUARY

She's gone for weeks and then she's back two days in a row - the Curmudgeon. But as I was throwing Sunday's newspaper into the recycling I saw a headline that stopped me with an idea for an essay:

I loved this headline in this Sunday’s Community section of the Charlotte Observer: Outdoor Fireplaces: A hideaway in your yard.  Oooh! Things are getting bad: folks on the lam are searching for hideaways. And what about those “bedroom retreats”, and “adult sanctuaries”?  What I want to know is from what are some folks fleeing?  Why do they have to retreat? Why must they hide away?  Are things getting so bad that instead of sending recalcitrant kids to their rooms the parents flee to their own?  Are things getting so bad that folks must flee from the world in general?

Being just two weeks this side of seventy, I’m from an era where togetherness was the key word for families: togetherness at meals, togetherness for an evening’s entertainment and learning, togetherness in all times good or bad. It seems now that every family member is entitled to their own inviolable space. Entitled, I tell you!  Our son has three girls, and each has her own bedroom. The girls are all under six, so there aren’t yet any “go to your room” orders, or even their own desire to get away from the rest of the bunch - but they’re getting older every day. Of course, the parents have their own suite, and there’s a small guest suite on the first floor. Five bedrooms: gotta have ‘em! I’d better not complain too loudly: I may need that guest suite one day. But you know what I’m getting at here.

Excess, excess – it’s everywhere. (Witness yesterday’s blog about Booing.)

The size of the average American family home is increasing – doesn’t every home need a living room, a great room, a playroom, a media room, a billiards room, and maybe a gym?  Our son’s home has four of those six, yet along with those five bedrooms it’s one of the smaller houses in his golf club community.  I ask you!  But why not, it’s what up-and-comers do these days.  And I really shouldn’t comment, because they are doing so well. But it just chews at my conscious. Though I’m sure it is mainly doing what they think best for their family, it all seems to me to be the eternal keeping up with the Joneses, the maintaining face, if you will, and the showing themselves that they’re all right Jack.  Seems to me it might be our fault for not instilling simpler values in them.  It’s a vicious cycle, and many parents will probably be lamenting about this for eons.

Well, that’s off my chest for now – but I’ll probably still stew about it later on in life.

 

 

 

BOO FOR BOOING

The Curmudgeon is back!  She’s been gone for a while, though I could have trotted her out for my last blog on manners. She’s ready to give her opinion on the current trend to make Halloween that much more frenetic by “Boo”-ing.  Boo for Booing. In my most recent letter to my dear correspondent in Canada I told her of that week’s encounters with Booing:

-----Speaking of candy – eye candy and otherwise - Have the Canadians picked up the custom of “Booing”? At night someone rings your doorbell and runs away, leaving a bag of candy and a note telling you to make two copies of the note and the picture of a ghost, and pass it on to two more Boo-ees, along with bags of goodies for them. Whew! I don’t know who started this, but I think it should be stopped.  My daughter-in-law and the kids got Booed last Saturday while we were there. She suspected who Booed them and couldn’t Boo them back and couldn’t think of any two others to Boo in the neighborhood (not many households with kids there). She’d have to find two bags to pass on and some candy to fill them, and make copies, etc. She was a bit exasperated at that point, but the kids were excited. Just what they needed: more candy!

Then one night last week we got Booed here. What a pain! They don’t allow Trick or Treating here at SCCL, so I don’t have any supply of candy or other goodies. I recieved a bag-full of M&M snack bags, a Reesse’s Pieces, and one mint tea bag – strange! I don’t know what my daughter-in-law did about it, but I stopped it right there. Like a chain letter, I don’t pass such things on. Instead I just ate the candy! (Burp!) It might be fun for the kids – and I suspect this was started by the candy companies to drum up more business – but here in Sun City it is almost an imposition. From the looks of the bag I got it seems like the Booer had to scrounge up something to pass along. Many of us seniors don’t go in for such sweets – at least not the kind of things kids usually like. Last week I did have a coupon from Lindt for a free (free: my favorite word!) bag of their new Truffles – at $6.99 a bag! That is not for the kiddies. -----

Turns out that, just as I did, my daughter-in-law decided enough was enough, and didn’t pass on the Boo. It would have been fun for the girls to sneak up and ring the bells, but they can have other fun other ways. She is not a Martha Stewart Mama, all organized to the teeth and so busy she gets everything done elegantly.  If gals like that are not a myth, they’re few and far between.  She’s an every-day, loving Mama who has a lot on her plate and little inclination to go off on tangents imposed from the outside.  

Actually, I can see a sort of Booing here at SCCL.  Perhaps I’d call it “Gifting”. I remember when I was just a kid, maybe eight or so, and my Grandmother was writing out a birthday card to her Secret Pal. They even had greeting cards especially for Secret Pals. Do they have them now? I always thought that was a nice idea. So today, if someone knew that a neighbor or friend had a birthday coming up, or was recovering from an illness, or was just in need of some cheering, I could see leaving a Secret Gift. How about a gift bag of things like a small supply of herbal tea, some trial size toiletries, a colorful pair of socks, a box of Walker’s shortbread? You know the person so you should know what they like.  Add a cheerful card and Voila!  Just hang it on their doorknob.  There’d be no instructions to pass on the gift – though talking up the idea would be nice.  Mmmm!  One never knows, do one?

MIND YOUR MANNERS

What better month to celebrate National Manners Month than in October, the month when Emily Post was born to a prominent Baltimore family in the year 1873. She was raised in the Victorian era when manners were strictly codified, and women, especially well-to-do women, had to know their place and do nothing to jeopardize it. That was an era of polite society, so polite that even today the Emily Post website politely fails to mention her divorce, one of the first in her circle of friends, and her subsequent entry into the realms of the gainfully employed. After writing several successful novels and travel articles she turned her hand to a book on etiquette.

In my book, her book is really about two things: etiquette and manners. According to my handy dictionary, etiquette is “the conventional requirements as to social behavior, and the prescribed or accepted code of usage in matters of ceremony.” It is how you set a table, what fork goes where. It is how you formally address the President of the United States or the Archbishop of Canterbury.

Manners, on the other hand, are, according to the same dictionary, “social behavior, especially in terms of what is considered correct or unacceptable in a particular society or period in time.” There is a fine difference. Manners are how you relate to other people. Using an example from today’s technical world, we could say etiquette is using the accepted lingo or shorthand for text messages to your friends, while manners would be your texting them at appropriate times for both of you: not when you are driving, not at meal times, not at midnight.

Etiquette, as I said, is how you set your table. Manners are waiting to eat until your hostess takes her first bite. Etiquette and its rules go along with the times; manners are timeless. Emily Post said "Manners are a sensitive awareness of the feelings of others. If you have that awareness, you have good manners, no matter what fork you use." It comes down to this: it’s nice to be nice.

It’s not that you do something correctly, but that you do it with correct consideration. Etiquette requires a gentleman to hold the door for a lady; manners require that he do so graciously, not with an exasperated expression on his face. Further, manners at SCCL suggest that you hold the door for the next guy, especially at the Lake House where the heavyweight doors were designed for Gargantua.

I get all confused here: is it etiquette or good manners for SCCL golf cart drivers to park two carts in a regular car spot? Well, I guess it could be etiquette for two to use the spot, and manners to be considerate and park them offset so that drivers and passengers can get in and out of the cart with ease. 

Speaking of manners, we’ve a few husbands around here who are really pips.You may have seen one of these incidents with the genders reversed, but on several recent occasions I’ve seen men with relatively infirm spouses get out of a car or golf cart and just stride off, leaving the woman to get out, rummage around in the back seat for her cane in one case, and to get herself inside without so much as a steadying hand. You can’t tell me that on every one of those occasions he had to get to the john so fast he left her to fend for herself. He sure wasn’t catching a plane.

I firmly believe that courtesy, manners, and etiquette, are part of the foundation of a good marriage.  I have been blessed with one of the most considerate husbands on the planet, and I appreciate it no end.

To paraphrase Sgt. Esterhaus: “Let’s mind our manners out there.”

HONEYCOMB

On our recent trip to th Blue Ridge Mountains I bought one of these jars of sourwood honey at a roadside stand on Rt. 221 outside of Linville, NC. I opened the jar yesterday and tasted a bit of the honey - delicious.  Certainly beats the commercial stuff.  I've never eaten honeycomb, so naturally I went on line and did a bit of browsing.  My farorite idea was to serve it with good cheese and  great crusty bread or crackers.  Just cut into the honeycomb and spread it and savor it.  Ooooo - sounds like a great plan. Come on over and share it with us.

HISTORY GETS INTERESTING AGAIN

This week Frank and I took a leaf-peeper drive along South Carolina’s Route 11, the Cherokee Foothills National Scenic Highway. Our first stop was Cowpens Nation al Battlefield. As at any battlefield we’ve visited there isn’t much to see in the lay of the land – you have to use your imagination. We stopped off first at the information center.  They’ve got just about the best battle presentation we’ve ever seen.  It is a narrated summary of the war to the date of the Battle of Cowpens, and later to the surrender at Yorktown,  complete with a fiber optics display on two large maps: one map of the south in general, and one map of the battlefield.  Later we took the loop road drive around the battlefield and, with the presentation in mind, could get a better idea of what went on where.

I wrote the following article for the July 2011 issue of Living @ Sun City Carolina Lakes.  As today is the anniversary of the surrender at Yorktown I thought it appropriate to use the article again.

 

 

HISTORY GETS INTERESTING AGAIN

The Declaration of Independence was signed in Philadelphia on July 4, 1776, formalizing the conflict between ‘us’ and ‘them’. The conflict was all but ended south of the Mason-Dixon Line on October 19, 1781, with the British surrender Yorktown, Virginia, only 330 miles from here as the crow flies.

 

The Redcoats are going! The Redcoats are going!

 

Coming from one of the North Atlantic states I was fairly well schooled in the northern events of the Revolutionary War, but it never kept my interest for too long, seeming to be just a series of names, battles, and dates that I had to memorize for a test. Moving to the South has awakened my interest. 

Since my school days I’ve learned that some of our ancestors, especially the more noted ones, had a lot more going on in their lives than just leading the nation. Fourth grade history and the study of American Revolution never mentioned that Benjamin Franklin was quite the ladies’ man or that Thomas Jefferson had a concubine. Interesting! 

Fourth grade history in the North also never mentioned much about the role of the South in that war, and it was probably the same in reverse for students in the South. Nor did it mention what it was like for those on ‘the other side’ – in this case, the English on the other side of the pond.

 



Queen Charlotte

Did you know that King George III was married to Charlotte of Mecklenburg-Strelitz?  That wouldn’t have interested me before, but, living where I do just south of Charlotte, now it does. Poor guy: wars going on all the time, suffering from a mental illness that may have been a blood disorder, he had troubles galore. And some upstarts in the American colonies wanted things like “no taxation without representation,” and they had other objections to being mere colonies. They wanted their independence.  Think of it from George’s point of view: it was appalling.

If it weren’t for the South we might all be British.  Though the primary action of the opening years of the war was in the north, at the same time the persistent southern forces were handling British actions in Charleston and eastern Florida, and nagging at the British and Loyalists whenever they could. The North began to get help from the French, and in the last major battle there they defeated the British at Saratoga in 1777.  Still the British remained a large presence in the north, harrying and engaging the forces in a series of smaller battles. 

The same year as Saratoga, the southerners did lose Savannah, their biggest city, to the British.  Then Charleston went, and the Americans retreated in defeat to the Carolinas. There they met the British in several engagements: one of them was the Battle of the Waxhaws.  For about a year it didn’t look good for the American cause, but then the tide turned and they won at Kings Mountain and Cowpens.  The British kept at it, winning some battles, but at great cost to themselves. Finally the American southern, northern, and naval forces came together in Yorktown to defeat the British and accept their surrender.  King George lost control of Parliament to the factions within his own country that were suing for peace with the Americans, and that, in a nutshell, was that.  

Of course, the Revolution can’t be covered in 600 words. There’s so much to be learned, seen, and enjoyed.  You can begin on the internet researching the Southern states’ Revolutionary War Trails, starting at oldeenglishdistrict.com, or hit the brochure racks at the highway visitor centers.  Our nations’s history will keep you busy and entertained for a long time to come.

 

 

IT'S PUMPKIN TIME

 

 

but where would I have put it once I got it home - that is if I had won the bidding?

 

BELOW THE MASON-DIXON LINE

 

On this October 18^th, 245 years ago, surveyor Jeremiah Dixon and astronomer Charles Mason completed the plotting of the 233 mile line known to us all, naturally, as the Mason-Dixon Line. Historically speaking, it settled the border between Pennsylvania and Maryland.  During the earlier settlement of the country things got a bit messy with lands granted to various families.  Stop here: this is where it sometimes “gets to me”, that bit about “lands granted.”  Broadly speaking, the English swept up what the French and Spanish didn’t particularly claim – though they had a few wars later over it all – and just stated, more or less: “Never mind who lives here now, all this is ours to do with and give away as we like.”  Talk about divine right of kings! Talk about coming in and taking over! Whew!

But to continue: the claims of Penns of Pennsylvania and the Calverts of Maryland overlapped significantly to the point where Philadelphia was technically within the Maryland colony. So out they went with their rods and chains, letting Philadelphia sit a good fifteen miles above the new border, and marked the line for posterity.  The line now forms the boundaries of four states: Maryland, Pennsylvania, West Virginia and Delaware.  The Delaware-Pennsylvania section of the line is relatively small, and the rest of their border is a twelve mile arc. That arc in itself is an interesting topic for another essay.

 

 

A born Yankee – a New Yorker from “Nu yawk”, although I don’t really sound like that – I never ever expected to live below the line, much less have my whole family living down South. One lives in the suburbs of Houston, one the suburbs of Charleston, and now the other two are near Charlotte. Jobs are the great movers of families these days. Needless to say, I never gave the line a thought other than to know that it separated us from them, culturally speaking and gastronomically speaking. Ooh – the gastronomy down here is superb!

Why do adults tell children outlandish things? I know my Father was highly indignant later on in life when he learned that chocolate milk did not come from brown cows. His Mother was born in West “By God” Virginia. Many times when I was little she told me that the Southerners would love me because my name is Lee. Well, good grief! How long can a kid believe something like that?!  I don’t know how many Southerners like me, but I like a whole lot of Southerners that I’ve met so far. They are charming, gracious people. Sometimes, living where I do, I am mortified at what they have to put up with from pushy Northerners. It’s the same feeling I got a few times when we were traveling in Europe and “Ugly Americans” - maybe they were Northerners! – were less than polite, shall we say, to a shop clerk or the hotel staff.  Maybe I just don’t want to be tarred with the same brush.

Reverting back to gastronomic delights, and I frequently do, I leave you with this prayerful poem by the late, big and big-hearted actor, Victor Buono. 

The last lines say it all. 

A Dieter's Prayer

Lord, my soul is ripped with riot
incited by my wicked diet.

"We Are What We Eat," said a wise old man!
Lord, if that's true, I'm a garbage can.
To rise on Judgment Day, it's plain!
With my present weight, I'll need a crane.

So grant me strength, that I may not fall
into the clutches of cholesterol.
May my flesh with carrot-curls be dated,
that my soul may be poly unsaturated

And show me the light, that I may bear witness
to the President's Council on Physical Fitness.
And at oleo margarine I'll never mutter,
for the road to Hell is spread with butter.

And cream is cursed; and cake is awful;
and Satan is hiding in every waffle.
Mephistopheles lurks in provolone;
the Devil is in each slice of baloney,

Beelzebub is a chocolate drop,
and Lucifer is a lollipop.
Give me this day my daily slice
Cut it thin and toast it twice.

I beg upon my dimpled knees,
deliver me from jujube's.
And when my days of trial are done,
and my war with malted milk is won,
Let me stand with Heavenly throng,
In a shining robe -- size 30 long.
I can do it Lord, if you'll show to me,
the virtues of lettuce and celery.

Teach me the evil of mayonnaise,
And of pasta a la Milanese
and crisp-fried chicken from the South.
Lord, if you love me, shut my mouth.


Amen

 

Oh yes!  Amen to that!

 

 

 

FALL FAIR

Our granddaughter at the Altamont Fair on a windy fall day in 1993!  Can't you just taste that candy-apple?  Makes my teeth itch!

LOGIC AND DIPLOMACY - AND CHALLENGE

When I was in high school the Guidance Department gave us aptitude tests.  I came out highest to be an auto mechanic or a diplomat. At that time I just listened to the counselor’s spiel while I sat there, got up, and went out. All I remembered after that were the two professions, neither of which I chose to follow. Looking back after all these years, I see that the common denominator there was logic.

An auto mechanic must have a logical mind to go with his knowledge of cars.  The combination tells him, for instance, what’s wrong with the car, how to take it apart, and, most important, how to put it back together again.

A diplomat has to juggle logic: his own and that of the entities with whom and between whom he must negotiate, and with whom he must maintain cordial relations on behalf of his country or company.  Like being green, it ain’t easy.

I did fall into a field that required logic: computer programming.  I was working for a Long Island bank that was about to get its first computer.  They tested all the employees and I scored very well. So, from being a teller and then a clerk in the loan department, I was catapulted into the world of computers. Programming involves logic: instructions to the computer must follow logically, with no “oh, by the way” instructions to mess things up. Logically, I could say, I went from programming, to systems analysis, to running the department, to becoming and A.V.P. in Operations, the first female officer at the bank. 

On the face of things now, I don’t have to dig down and use any of my logic abilities. Except that I can’t get into a criminal mindset, I can usually understand other people’s point of view.  After over a quarter of a century of retirement, living in a relatively isolated and fairly homogenous rural community, it’s a brain boost, and sometimes a diplomatic challenge, to live in a dense, diverse community like this Sun City Carolina Lakes.

 

NOW I KNOW...

...WHY THEY CALL THEM THE BLUE RIDGE MOUNTAINS.

We're back from our too brief sojourn in Blowing Rock, North Carolina. We had a marvelous trip, saw this year's start of the fall colors, spent time and took a lot of pictures on Grandfather Mountain and the Blue Ridge Parkway, and bought wonderful handcrafts from pottery to jam and sourwood honey.

KEEPING IT ALL TOGETHER

Tomorrow is our 38^th anniversary.  We’ll be off later today to the mountains of North Carolina for a celebratory trip. We’ve had folks comment on how well my husband and I get along. Naturally, above all, we love each other to pieces.  Though we can mildly aggravate each other at times, we enjoy each other’s company above any others.

We both enjoy planning ahead: for the next meal, the next shopping trip, the next car, the next house. This usually helps us with our P’s: Proper Prior Planning Prevents Piss-Poor Performance. We’re probably in our last house now, but we still enjoy the planning. One never knows, do one? We’re fortunate that we’re both inclined to be neat and organized – it precludes sniping at one another.  Above all, we are courteous to each other. Saying a ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ for little favors leads to greater appreciation of bigger ones.

Over the years we’ve developed little rituals that we enjoy: from being sure to put out the sweet gherkins for our tuna melts to selecting fresh flowers for the house. Our best, now ingrained ritual is to say “I Love You” or “Love You to Pieeeeeeeeeeces!” Waking up each morning, settling in to bed, and all times in between; coming and going – especially going or ending a phone call with each other or any of the family – the words are always there. 

We’ve got a song-book of family sayings, many of which our children and grandchildren outgrew years ago. When Joe was Joey – a little kid, that is – if he’d had a bad day, struck out, guttered too many bowling balls, or maybe fallen off his bike, he’d say to his Dad “it’s a no day Dad.” “A no day Dad” is a phrase of the past for him, but it is a regular in the conversation between Frank and me.  Similarly, when our oldest grandchild was in day care, she came home disgusted one day because the resident baby ducks were gone.  When asked how they were that day she replied: “No ducks, es worms.”  This too is part of her past, our present. 

These are just family sayings and doings, nothing too catchy or memorable outside of the family, but they keep the memories alive and the love renewed.

You might like to read about Zen Hugs, another of our family favorites.

A LATE SEPTEMBER DAY...

...heading west into Montana in 1994.  A load of hay!  My Mom always said it was lucky to see a load of hay, and that was the trip and the time of year to see them.  And it was lucky: we had a wonderful trip.

WORDS, WORDS, WORDS

“Words, words, words, I’m so sick of words” sang Eliza Doolittle in My Fair Lady.  Words, words, words – I just love words.

 Yesterday’s  The Writer’s Almanac  celebrated the anniversary of the Norman Conquest in 1066, and cited many of the words we owe to the French. Now I know why we have cow/beef, calf/veal, and sheep/mutton. These three alone are a clue as to why English is not an easy language to learn. So many words, so little time.

On last year’s anniversary (I sometimes think this anniversary is a moveable feast) my blog celebrated the same, the 945^th anniversary, with a blog on languages.  To celebrate the day this year, why not check out Grammarphobia, a blog of “grammar, etymology, usage, and more” that is guaranteed to fascinate and enlighten anyone who loves words.

 

MRS. COW AND MRS. HORSE

FRENCH COUNTRY COWS

It’s another story as to why, but when my sister and I were small we shared a double bed. Many nights under the covers we would play-act. We had vivid imaginations! We must have played many things, but the ones I remember most were “Radio” and “Farm”.  We thought we were putting one over on our Mom, but of course she knew what was going on and knew, as she told us years later, we’d soon fall asleep.

 

 

When we played “Radio” one of us would decide what she wanted to hear and the other would make twist-the-dial noises and provide the show. “Farm” must have been our favorite.  Chit-chatting about our day, she was Mrs. Cow and I was Mrs. Horse.  And to each other, until the day she died, we were still Mrs. Cow and Mrs. Horse.  We were Mrs. Cow and Mrs. Horse to the point that our Mom once bought us beautifully-made cloth dolls with cow and horse bodies. We were Mrs. Cow and Mrs. Horse to the point where every time I see a cow – or her favorite daisies – I think of my sister Karen.

A heartfelt thank you to Sharon Santoni at My French Country Home. Today when I opened her blog there were several wonderful pictures of my favorite animal: cows. My sister would have loved those photos. Sharon has a great eye for photography and takes the most gorgeous photos. The shots from her brocante trips are not to be missed. I save many of her pictures for my Desktop slide show. So – the real cows are from Sharon, the dollies, sitting happily in my guest room, are my own.

 

 

 

THE COAT OF MANY COLORS

 

 



I recently started a relatively free subscription to Vogue. (I used some extra air miles.) Two days ago the September issue arrived – a bit late, but that’s probably because the mail carrier could have developed a hernia carrying it.  The darn thing is one and a half inches thick, runs to over 900 pages, and reeks of perfume samples, about 90% advertising content, and a lot of ugly clothing.

Oh, there are some clothes I just love. Trust Oscar de la Renta and Valentino, among others, to come up with some stunning creations. The magazine goes next to my daughter-in-law, so I dog-eared several pages of my favorites for her to note.

 

The issue marks the 120^th anniversary of Vogue.  I subscribed to it way-back-when.  Years (eons) ago I joshed that I went from Seventeen magazine to Vogue. There is no further step up.  There is no fashion magazine for us almost-seventy types living in fixed-income territory and wearing what is most comfortable, most presentable, suited to many occasions, and classic enough to span the seasons as well as the years.

 

But I digress. The impetus for this blog entry was the lack in the anniversary issue of any pictures of my favorite super model from “my era”, namely Veruschka.  Oh they had Twiggy and Jean Shrimpton, Iman and even Jerry Hall.  But no Veruschka.  Well, I was mildly miffed – I suppose perhaps the 70’s Vogue-Veruschka feud goes on – so I googled for some pictures of her. Even at the age of 73 she is still striking.  And there, down among all the images, was one I’d cut out and still have in my own special scrapbook. I just adored this coat-of-many-colors.  I once bought a rainbow striped caftan that was the closest I could get to the real thing.

 

Franco Rubartelli’s 60’s – photo from the blog Pleasurephoto  This one will find its way into my electronic "Eye Candy" file.  It is a pleasure photo.

 

[See that!  Frank just strolled by behind my desk and saw the picture. “I remember – didn’t you have something like that? Where is it?”  Or words to that effect.  Well as things do go, it went.  It had some strange unremovable stains down the side, and so I tossed it, donated it, whatever.  It’s gone, alas, but he remembers, and I remember, and I still do have that page from Vogue.]

 

MADWOMAN



Lucia Sturdza Bulandra
in The Madwoman of Chaillot
by George Ştefănescu (1967)

Last week Sue, my dear Canadian friend, and I were continuing our emailing conversation. Both of us are certainly certifiable 'madwomen' at times. I couldn't recall offhand if in "The Madwoman of Chaillot", as she first referenced it, the 'madwoman' was one word or two, so of course I googled it. (She was correct! Why do I question these things?)  The top entry was, as usual, for Wikipedia.  I could see right there that madwoman was one word, but of course I had to click on the Wikipedia entry - and there was this wonderfully colorful picture that just just "spoke to me." I just had to save it for my "Eye Candy" collection, and had to show it to all of you. See that! My question led me to a great picture.
 

Lucia Sturdza-Bulandra, as I learned, was a Romanian actress. She died at the age of 88 in 1961, so evidently this painting of her was from one of her final performances. She must have been a wonderful character!

                                                       Painting by Corneliu Baba - 1953

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

SANTA CROCE

Galilleo's Tomb

 

In 1632, some 380 years ago this month, Galileo Galilei was ordered to Rome to stand trial for holding the then heretical idea that the sun was the center of the universe. We now know that his theory was but a step on the way to understanding the greater size of the whole shebang. What rang a bell when I read again about the association of the date was our visit to the Santa Croce in Florence, where Galileo is entombed.

Before we traveled to Italy with our daughter-in-law we asked for trip suggestions from her colleague Liliana who later took us on the wonderful gustatory tour in Liguria.  Liliana suggested that in Florence we pass up the Duomo and head for the Basilica de Santa Croce. I’m so very glad that we took her advice.

 

Ornately Michelangelo

Though I’ve never been inside Westminster I know of the many, many royals and other notables buried there. The names Elizabeth I and William Shakespeare do, after all, strike a familiar note. Still, to me the Santa Croce isn’t just another of the world’s big churches. Never in my whole life have I been so awed as I was there. It’s not that I didn’t believe that these men really lived, but whew, Michelangelo, Machiavelli, and Galileo! Most awe-inspiring was the tomb of Michelangelo. I can’t explain why, but I just stood and stared at it for quite some time, having a surprising sense of being in the presence of greatness. That sense of something special, all in my head and imagination as it may have been, has stayed with me. I hear or see a reference to Florence or the Santa Croce and the feeling is there again. Even a reference to the Duomo elicits a fleeting thought of “boy I’m so glad we didn’t go there.”

Simply Machiavelli

 

So my advice to you, should you be going to Italy and have, as we did, just a brief time in Florence, do take yourself to the Basilica de Santa Croce – and then have a great Margherita pizza in one of the outdoor cafes on the Piazza della Signoria. 

 

 

ALL ANYONE EVER WANTS...



...is a little patch of shade to call their own.

NATIONAL COUPON MONTH

This article was first written for Living @ Sun City Carolina Lakes, our community magazine, for the September 2010 issue.  It will also be included in this month's issue, the last printed issue, of Refund Cents.  I've updated some of the numbers and added items such as e-coupon which weren't so prevalent two years ago.

           

         Recently I was told that September is National Coupon Month.  Who knew?! Evidently it is has been dreamed up by the Promotion Marketing Association Coupon Council. Never heard of that bunch, did you? September or not, every month is coupon month at our house. My mother ‘couponed’ back as far as I can remember, and I carry on the practice. I call it a practice, not a hobby. It is just part of my regular routine for preparing to shop: cutting coupons, checking the larder, reading the fliers, making the lists. The fun part is seeing what great deals I can get and totaling up the savings. Along about 1983 I began to keep track of my savings. I included savings on coupons, supermarket discounts, and refund checks. In that year my coupon savings amounted to just 3% of my supermarket bill. It gradually grew to be around 33 to 35% of the bill. That’s quite a savings. Just to impress you, I went back and totaled it all. (Yes, I still have the records!). I can tell you that to date, since 1983, I’ve saved $18,861 using coupons; $20,310 in supermarket discounts, and received $2,915 in refund checks, for a nice total of $42,086. Now that is a chunk of change to add up over almost thirty years. 

       If you are unfamiliar with couponing you may think that number impressive. For a household of just two people it may be, but there are people out there who make me look like a piker. Right here in Sun City Carolina Lakes we have people who not only manage to save for themselves, but who amass shelves-full of food and other products for the various local pantries and drives. I can come up with many items to donate, but these folks are in it ‘big time’. They don’t just collect a bagful or two over the year, they collect bagsful in a month! They work the deals at CVS, Walgreens and Rite Aid, the by-one-get-one free deals (known as BOGO’s) at the supermarkets, and glean as many on-line free samples as they can. Wow! That can be an almost full time job. 

        To start the couponing practice you must first get the Sunday newspaper. Your yearly savings will more than cover the price of the paper. In with the various store fliers will be two, maybe three booklets of coupons. (Don’t look for them on holiday weekends. That’s when their publishers take a break.) Begin by searching for and cutting out coupons for the products you use regularly. The manufacturers will try to tempt you with a lot of convenience food coupons, but don’t give in! (unless it’s a Freebie, of course!). Once you’ve cut out a good number of coupons over the weeks you will want to begin organizing them. Save any Business Reply envelopes you get in the mail. Write your shopping lists on the back, and keep your matching cents-off coupons in the envelope. Use other envelopes, either those business-reply or new ones, to organize your coupons into the categories. Making categories of the various departments and aisles of your most-shopped supermarket is the best idea. If you really take to couponing there are many coupon files and binders available to help you. 

        Next you must get familiar with the fliers from the stores where you shop regularly. Walmart fliers can be hit or miss, but Harris Teeter, Lowes Foods, Food Lion, CVS, Walgreens, and the other locals have their fliers included in the Wednesday or Sunday newspapers. (These are the ‘locals’ for my Charlotte neck of the woods.)The alternative to the newspaper fliers is to go on line to the websites of your favorite stores.  The complete fliers will be spread out for you there. It will be important for you to check these regularly so that you can know when the stores are running specials. Harris Teeter, as many of us at SCCL know, doubles coupons up to 99 cents every day, but will often triple those coupons, and sometimes double coupons from $1.00 to $2.00. 

 

      And now, while we’re on line, let me introduce you to two of the couponer’s newest, greatest assets: printable coupons and e-coupons. There are many sites where you can select and print just the coupons you need. The best of the bunch are couponinc.com and coupons.com. All the rest are takeoffs on those two. 
      E-coupons from sites like SavingStar.com are coupons you select to be electronically loaded on to your account at participating stores.  When you shop and purchase the matching item the price is deducted from your bill. There is nothing to print or clip, and many stores will take the e-coupon plus a clipped coupon for double the money off.  Many supermarket chains have their own e-coupon programs too. One drawback to this is that the coupons are “out of sight, out of mind”, so you may forget to use them before they expire.

 

       There are many hobby-couponer sites out there too. The best of that bunch, one to which I’ve subscribed to in print and on line for eons, is RefundCents.com. This is couponing and refunding’s bible, its vade mecum, its Wikipedia. Much of the site’s information can be accessed for free, but the ’good stuff’ requires a subscription. Some of the ‘good stuff’ includes weekly listings of the double plays and free items at, for example, CVS and Walgreens; news of free samples; store deal such as the Teeter Triples and Kroger specials; previews of the Sunday coupons; and great deals at on-line retailers, known as etailers. An on-line subscription is $12 a year, and that will repay itself many times over. 

      Once you have the couponing habit you’ll be on the lookout for good deals everywhere. Don’t throw out those newspaper fliers or mail box stuffers without checking them first. There’s a trove of savings to be had by coupons on restaurants, pizzerias, clothing, cleaners, hair cutters, home improvement centers, oil changes - savings all over the town. Sign up for emails from Wendy’s, Ruby Tuesdays, Outback and other places you visit regularly. Many emails contain printable coupons or news of good deals.

 

    And finally, do keep track of those savings. There are those who ear-mark the savings for special nights out, special gifts, or an otherwise frivolous purchase. Part of my savings justifies my subscriptions to the shelter and cooking magazines I love, not to mention that subscription to RefundCents. Do look into couponing. You will be pleasantly surprised when the savings start to add up. 

 

 

                                                                

 

 

TREES, TREES...

...and cypres knees and one Barred Owl on the lookout for a meal.


Congaree National Park, South Carolina   May 2011