I am glad to know that I'm not the only one who values a good reason to stay home. I like it best here anyway. I loved your Christmas column. My dead loved ones live on in my head, and I'm happy to let them stay there - my father, my grandparents, my aunts and uncles, my mother-in-law, even my little pet dog - they are good company.
It looks like Strawberry Rhubarb Pie, not just Rhubarb. Rhubarb and Strawberries is a pairing that has few, if any, equals...and I say "few" just to tamp down unnecessary debate.
Like Jeannine, I loved your Christmas column! I was especially touched by the woman friend interpreting your poem as a clue to possible suicidal tendencies. Once, on an outing with our company birding club, a coworker mentioned a cartoon with a man dying of thirst, crawling toward the reader. I, too, thought that that might indicate suicidal thoughts. I spent a few anxious hours, wondering "Should I say something, or not?" The red sun, setting in the west, broke into my consciousness like Ra, the Egyptian Sun God. "DO IT!" Ra commanded. With Ra driving me, I went to his office. I tried, as delicately as I could, to note that the cartoonist, Charles Addams, of the New Yorker, seemed to have suicidal thoughts. Superficially, my colleague seemed to brush it off. However, his eyes were pleading with me: "Say more. Reassure me! Let me know I'm wanted." It seemed to me it was Ra speaking, more than we were. I never said "you" directly, but his eyes said that he got the point. We drifted off to other topics when Ra seemed satisfied.
A week later, we were bird watching again. There were only a few of us, as we stood by the side of a pond, with a tall crane on the opposite shore. The others had their binoculars on the crane as my coworker said "It's over now. I'm all right." Nothing more was ever said about it. However, just as you wrote here, I'm sure he would have said "it was pleasant to have someone be so concerned about my well-being."
Just a word to my fellow GK guests: If you think that someone is giving a cry for help, say something! Try to be low key about it, but don't, Don't, DON'T think "It's none of my business! Don't Interfere!" My coworker really might have taken his life, if he figured that no one cared enough about him to even notice the mood he was in! If you're worried about your own persuasive abilities, contact a suicide hot line and ask for their guidance.
My coworker died a year or two ago, when he was well over ninety years of age. After the suicidal low, he decided to become a high school teacher. He had an intuitive way with kids and I'm sure he was a positive influence for those under his tutelage. Unlike most teachers, he listened to the kids and interacted with them, rather than lecturing them from "On High." There are probably some scientists out there now, who wouldn't have chosen their professions if it hadn't been for this man, "Saved by Ra!"
Hi, Garrison: I knew that you knew, and that you were in jest, but wasn't sure about the other 12 million readers. All the best for the Season and thanks for your unfailing warmth and sagacity.
I had a visit and conversation with one the best of the many oncologists I've had since 2003. She actually converses in real-life talk, not just doctorese. When we discussed COVID issues recently, she referred to them as "circumstances" that have interfered with and disrupted many lives. Yes, both cancer and covid are real diseases, but my take-away from her (wonderful her) is that we continue to live our best lives in spite of "circumstances" of many varieties.
The mention of rhubarb always brings to mind an old family story about my grandparents Oscar and Rose. Both were born and bred on the farmlands of Warren Township in Macomb, Michigan. They met at a barn dance where my Grandfather Oscar was calling the steps of the dance. For Rose, it was love at first sight because she loved dancing.
Married January 11, 1921, at St. Clements Catholic Church they settled in at Oscar’s family farm in Warren Township where Joseph, his father had farmed for twenty-five years and his grandfather George Gill had farmed twenty-five years previous. Oscar’s great grandfather Peter Gill had migrated with his wife Elizabeth to Warren Township from France. They had arrived in New York City on June 16, 1851, on the ship Margaret Evans departed from London, England.
Oscar and Rose continued to square dance and eventually took dance lessons at the local Arthur Murray dance studio in Detroit. The interesting thing about this love of dance was my parents Irvin and Patricia who also loved to dance became instructors at the Arthur Murray Dance Studio. Later in my parent’s life, my Father Irvin built a dance studio at our home and gave dance lessons on weekends in the evening to friends and family members.
Yes, I do dance but never with the polish or panache that my parents could. Irv and Pat were awe-inspiring. My father has passed and my mother is ninety years old this month. I recently asked her if she missed dancing with dad and she responded that of course she did but to be honest that she really didn’t care for dancing that much. I just laugh at that. Dad and her life have been a continuous dance that will go on forever.
Back to rhubarb, it was the winter crop my grandfather Oscar would grow or force to have income in the winter. He would dig a huge trench by the barn and halfway fill it with manure. He would pull the rhubarb roots out of the field and place them into the manure. He would then place window panes on top of the trench to protect the roots. The manure would warm and nourish the rhubarb with the sunlight through the windows enough for the rhubarb to produce young leaves. Collected when ready and sold at the market produces an income to subsidize Oscar and Rose’s family. I think that's pretty clever.
I notice, in speaking of phone conversations, you say "I worry about our kids and grandkids who have decades ahead of them, on whom uncertainty must weigh heavily." Personally, as someone whom Sputnik sent into science teaching as a career [No kidding! That year, and possibly for several years following, the clarion call went out to high school guidance counselors: Convince every student you can with scientific aptitude to become a science teacher!], the biologist in me thinks of the sudden scourge of poverty and malnutrition that must be affecting all those growing brains! There are groups in congress who are trying to alleviate the possible effects on our future adult generation. But others only look at the immediate price tag and holler "We don't need SNAP benefits expansion! We don't need a more robust Community College scholarship program," etc.
How blind can you get? While I was an Adopt-a-School chairman in a California company, I had the opportunity to attend a conference in Sacramento sponsored by Governor Deukmejian. I forget the exact statistics presented there, but the cost/ benefit ratio for more, versus less, quality schooling was enormous. For a current analysis, see "How much money is spent on prisons vs education? / The U.S. spends more on prisons and jails than it does on educating children – and 15 states spend at least $27,000 more per prisoner than they do per student, according to a new report. Americans account for 4.4 percent of the global population, but 22 percent of the world's prison population. Incarceration vs. education: America spends more on its prison system / ...https://www.readingkingdom.com
It seems to me, that with COVID, 2 + 2 will continue to = 4. Part of education is having healthy minds that are receptive to learning. If we skimp on family income support or basic educational opportunities now, we're going to end up with a generation of "COVID Kids." Quite possibly, many of them may be unable to support themselves or become productive members of society. We need to stop looking at the current $$$ signs and to think of the America that our present-day youth will be inhabiting ten or twenty years from now! What we do now may affect the course of America for a century, or even more!
Bravo again! To me, "Omnicron" sounds like a villain in the next Marvel series of Avenger movies, but I like your pharma angle also. Yes, we are rediscovering the need to use the phone to talk and not only text. Out of all negative there are still silver linings possible. I just started playing Xmas music - this year earlier by about ten days than normal - on Radio Santa Claus....just "because".
I am glad to know that I'm not the only one who values a good reason to stay home. I like it best here anyway. I loved your Christmas column. My dead loved ones live on in my head, and I'm happy to let them stay there - my father, my grandparents, my aunts and uncles, my mother-in-law, even my little pet dog - they are good company.
It looks like Strawberry Rhubarb Pie, not just Rhubarb. Rhubarb and Strawberries is a pairing that has few, if any, equals...and I say "few" just to tamp down unnecessary debate.
Bebopalooba Rhubarb Pie? An old sponsor, methinks.
Like Jeannine, I loved your Christmas column! I was especially touched by the woman friend interpreting your poem as a clue to possible suicidal tendencies. Once, on an outing with our company birding club, a coworker mentioned a cartoon with a man dying of thirst, crawling toward the reader. I, too, thought that that might indicate suicidal thoughts. I spent a few anxious hours, wondering "Should I say something, or not?" The red sun, setting in the west, broke into my consciousness like Ra, the Egyptian Sun God. "DO IT!" Ra commanded. With Ra driving me, I went to his office. I tried, as delicately as I could, to note that the cartoonist, Charles Addams, of the New Yorker, seemed to have suicidal thoughts. Superficially, my colleague seemed to brush it off. However, his eyes were pleading with me: "Say more. Reassure me! Let me know I'm wanted." It seemed to me it was Ra speaking, more than we were. I never said "you" directly, but his eyes said that he got the point. We drifted off to other topics when Ra seemed satisfied.
A week later, we were bird watching again. There were only a few of us, as we stood by the side of a pond, with a tall crane on the opposite shore. The others had their binoculars on the crane as my coworker said "It's over now. I'm all right." Nothing more was ever said about it. However, just as you wrote here, I'm sure he would have said "it was pleasant to have someone be so concerned about my well-being."
Just a word to my fellow GK guests: If you think that someone is giving a cry for help, say something! Try to be low key about it, but don't, Don't, DON'T think "It's none of my business! Don't Interfere!" My coworker really might have taken his life, if he figured that no one cared enough about him to even notice the mood he was in! If you're worried about your own persuasive abilities, contact a suicide hot line and ask for their guidance.
My coworker died a year or two ago, when he was well over ninety years of age. After the suicidal low, he decided to become a high school teacher. He had an intuitive way with kids and I'm sure he was a positive influence for those under his tutelage. Unlike most teachers, he listened to the kids and interacted with them, rather than lecturing them from "On High." There are probably some scientists out there now, who wouldn't have chosen their professions if it hadn't been for this man, "Saved by Ra!"
Very well said; to quote Dickens (but not about The Terror): Christmas is the best of times and the worst of times.
A couple of comments: one trivial, the other serious. First: it's not a "flu". It's Covid, and it's much worse than flu. To call it that is to echo Agent Orange who said the same thing...22 months ago. But seriously: I'm confused - sanitizing phones and Scrabble©️ pieces, but convening Christmas shows? With (one assumes) full houses? I don't think group singing will be the only risk encountered.
All the best to you all for the Season, and take care.
The part about santizing was said in jest, sorry. You're right about flu and COVID, two different viruses.
Hi, Garrison: I knew that you knew, and that you were in jest, but wasn't sure about the other 12 million readers. All the best for the Season and thanks for your unfailing warmth and sagacity.
I had a visit and conversation with one the best of the many oncologists I've had since 2003. She actually converses in real-life talk, not just doctorese. When we discussed COVID issues recently, she referred to them as "circumstances" that have interfered with and disrupted many lives. Yes, both cancer and covid are real diseases, but my take-away from her (wonderful her) is that we continue to live our best lives in spite of "circumstances" of many varieties.
The mention of rhubarb always brings to mind an old family story about my grandparents Oscar and Rose. Both were born and bred on the farmlands of Warren Township in Macomb, Michigan. They met at a barn dance where my Grandfather Oscar was calling the steps of the dance. For Rose, it was love at first sight because she loved dancing.
Married January 11, 1921, at St. Clements Catholic Church they settled in at Oscar’s family farm in Warren Township where Joseph, his father had farmed for twenty-five years and his grandfather George Gill had farmed twenty-five years previous. Oscar’s great grandfather Peter Gill had migrated with his wife Elizabeth to Warren Township from France. They had arrived in New York City on June 16, 1851, on the ship Margaret Evans departed from London, England.
Oscar and Rose continued to square dance and eventually took dance lessons at the local Arthur Murray dance studio in Detroit. The interesting thing about this love of dance was my parents Irvin and Patricia who also loved to dance became instructors at the Arthur Murray Dance Studio. Later in my parent’s life, my Father Irvin built a dance studio at our home and gave dance lessons on weekends in the evening to friends and family members.
Yes, I do dance but never with the polish or panache that my parents could. Irv and Pat were awe-inspiring. My father has passed and my mother is ninety years old this month. I recently asked her if she missed dancing with dad and she responded that of course she did but to be honest that she really didn’t care for dancing that much. I just laugh at that. Dad and her life have been a continuous dance that will go on forever.
Back to rhubarb, it was the winter crop my grandfather Oscar would grow or force to have income in the winter. He would dig a huge trench by the barn and halfway fill it with manure. He would pull the rhubarb roots out of the field and place them into the manure. He would then place window panes on top of the trench to protect the roots. The manure would warm and nourish the rhubarb with the sunlight through the windows enough for the rhubarb to produce young leaves. Collected when ready and sold at the market produces an income to subsidize Oscar and Rose’s family. I think that's pretty clever.
I notice, in speaking of phone conversations, you say "I worry about our kids and grandkids who have decades ahead of them, on whom uncertainty must weigh heavily." Personally, as someone whom Sputnik sent into science teaching as a career [No kidding! That year, and possibly for several years following, the clarion call went out to high school guidance counselors: Convince every student you can with scientific aptitude to become a science teacher!], the biologist in me thinks of the sudden scourge of poverty and malnutrition that must be affecting all those growing brains! There are groups in congress who are trying to alleviate the possible effects on our future adult generation. But others only look at the immediate price tag and holler "We don't need SNAP benefits expansion! We don't need a more robust Community College scholarship program," etc.
How blind can you get? While I was an Adopt-a-School chairman in a California company, I had the opportunity to attend a conference in Sacramento sponsored by Governor Deukmejian. I forget the exact statistics presented there, but the cost/ benefit ratio for more, versus less, quality schooling was enormous. For a current analysis, see "How much money is spent on prisons vs education? / The U.S. spends more on prisons and jails than it does on educating children – and 15 states spend at least $27,000 more per prisoner than they do per student, according to a new report. Americans account for 4.4 percent of the global population, but 22 percent of the world's prison population. Incarceration vs. education: America spends more on its prison system / ...https://www.reading kingdom.com
It seems to me, that with COVID, 2 + 2 will continue to = 4. Part of education is having healthy minds that are receptive to learning. If we skimp on family income support or basic educational opportunities now, we're going to end up with a generation of "COVID Kids." Quite possibly, many of them may be unable to support themselves or become productive members of society. We need to stop looking at the current $$$ signs and to think of the America that our present-day youth will be inhabiting ten or twenty years from now! What we do now may affect the course of America for a century, or even more!
Bravo again! To me, "Omnicron" sounds like a villain in the next Marvel series of Avenger movies, but I like your pharma angle also. Yes, we are rediscovering the need to use the phone to talk and not only text. Out of all negative there are still silver linings possible. I just started playing Xmas music - this year earlier by about ten days than normal - on Radio Santa Claus....just "because".