Back in the old days when cleaning out kitchen cupboards was my job the task would pretty much get done over a period of time. Every day I would empty a few cupboards or drawers, wipe them out, paint them if necessary and put everything back. Nobody else in the house was aware that this process was even taking place. That fact that the cupboards and drawers stayed neat and tidy, well, that just was. No thought was even given to that fact. HA!

Well, now some household jobs are in the hands of the man of the house, Mr. Retired Guy, who comes up with all sorts of activities to keep himself busy and no regard to any history of household procedures particularly ones never witnessed. His premise is because he did not witness a procedure it never happened.  

Anyway he is doing the kitchen cupboards this week. We are on day 4. Kitchen is a mess, Every single cupboard and drawer has been emptied. Every single flat surface in occupied with stuff. 

The kitchen is pretty much unusable.

I lived 17 years in State College and living there was an adjustment I never made. My first impression was the similarity I felt with the movie, "The Spepford Wives".  Specific comparisons are ellusive, but not the intuitiveness. The Penn State University holds a unique standing in a small town. It is the "center of the universe for much if not all of central Pennsylvania" --A kingdom with its realm that is huge awith a reign supreme. Penn State is a powerful force not easy to be reckoned with.


The economy of Centre County lives and dies by the university and its football. The town with a population of 40,000, and the purchasing power of Penn State University supports two Walmarts. The population doubles when school is in session and triples the weeks of home football games. People come with their RVs and camp out days before a home game. They spend a lot of money.


If it is a fall Saturday and home game day you go to the game. If you are a contrarian and do not attend the game then you have to plan your day accordingly.  You do not go out to dinner or run errands; there are too many lines, too many people, too much traffic. You time what you must do to coincide with game time when everyone is sealed inside Beaver Stadium or glued to their TVs. On any football Saturday State College becomes the third largest city in Pennsylvania.

In central Pennsylvania Penn State  is THE place to work; it is THE center for entertainment; it is THE resource for information and expertise. Everyone and every organization seeks its support, its sanction, its embrace. "State College" and "Centre County" is the subset of the PSU bigger circle of governance. And frankly if you are associated with the university you have a higher standing in the community. "oh, you work at the university" "oh, your father (husband) is a professor" (Notice the gender, as did Marlo Thomas in her commentary in the Huffington Post that there there's been scant mention of women in the school's (PSU) chain of command. But thats a topic for another blog.)


The populace of surrounding communities, towns "over the mountain" perform daily commutes into the "city" of State College to service the needs of the university. The goal of many in those areas is to land a job at the university. At the same time, the people of these surrounding communities are often intimidated by the university and its elitism: its intellectuals, its money, its power,  it size, its students...all of this so more sophisticated then what they know. These are simpler folk. The geographic fact that the school is three hours from anywhere is not insignificant. For some a trip to State College is a trip to the "big city" and a significant number have never ventured past there, not even to Harrisburg, to Pittsburgh, or Philly, but that may as well New Jersey. A few venture to Altoona. Essentially all the needs of the population need to met locally, and locally means Penn State University. Everyone depends on the university for something.

Everybody can mingle at Beaver Stadium and watch a great football game.

The football culture imbeds itself in so many ways. It is a way of life. For some it is the only life they know. Kids grow up there thinking football is the way of the world. JoePa is the "Holy Father" for  everyone. Michael Weintraub (SCAHS, 1991) states it best: http://www.grantland.com/story/_/id/7205085/growing-penn-state
If you do not "do football" you are a kind of geek; if you say you are not going to the game, people sorta stop and stare, like "what?!" The epitome is when you say you have never been to a game and people nearly gasp! You are marked much akin to the antichrist.

An Artist's Bio

I have only recently allowed myself to pursue my art not as a sideline but as a priority. Since a death-defying bout with breast cancer I realized many new things.  One was that I had really never allowed myself to prioritize what I really wanted to do—make art. Everything else always came first—customarily a woman’s, wife’s, and mother’s circumstance.

I studied interior design in college, but never did much with that degree as I immediately married, and had three sons (very artistic kids, I might add) and life passed by very quicky. We moved quite a bit so my own career development was hampered. While raising kids I dabbled in photography, fiber, metal, glass and all sorts of crafty things. Being an academician’s spouse I always had access to university art classes so I took advantage of the opportunities but family responsibilities and duties at home were always the priority most of my life.

In my forties I fell into a career as an arts administrator where I ran an art education community center for children, adults and students on a university campus. I did this for some years. In the early 90s I created a very successful kids’ summer arts program and after school program. During that time I was awarded an internship with the Pennsylvania Council of the Art in Arts Management. This period set me in the art world, but I was focused on everybody’s else art.

I moved to North Carolina in 2003. Two months after I got here I discovered I had breast cancer. I was 56 and maybe at the end of my life. What had I accomplished? It was then I realized the necessity of pursuing my own artistic self. Art has always been the constant thread so I made the conscience decision to devote myself to developing my own skills. I built a studio over the garage to house all my artistic endeavors.

Watercolor is my current passion. It came to be because those are the classes that are available to me here in Washington, NC. Plus I had dabbled with it before as the medium for architectural renderings required of me in my college major. I had some familiarity with it. Conveniently, the local community college offered classes. I studied there a few years under various instructors. I found painting with watercolor very satisfying.

My current mentor is Jeffrey Jakub, current president of the Watercolor Society of North Carolina. I admire him for his work and manner with which he shares his mastery of the media of watercolor. He has given me great insight into my technique and vision. His critiques have made me grow and his opinions regarding my work have given me confidence as I confront the challenges of being a watercolorist. He has been an impetus to my getting my art in front of the people.

My natural tendency is to paint as I see it and my downfall is that I can paint only what I see. I cannot make it up. My desires are to paint with looser interpretations, gain the ability to paint what isn’t there and edit a final product. The onus for me is learning to see, knowing what I see, and committing it all to paper satisfactorily. I want to master the rules so I can prudently break those rules when I paint. Every time I paint I learn something new about myself, the medium and the subject.

Even though I have a studio I paint in my bedroom on an old wooden chemistry lab table taken from a college dumpster some 30 years ago. I avoid the studio because it is currently very cluttered with former “lives” (metalry, glass, fiber, oil and acrylic, books, etc) that I haven’t gleaned out my life yet. I guess I don’t want to.  Besides, I love getting up some days at 4 AM, painting in my nightgown at the foot of my bed, listening to the birds wake up.

I am a member of the Watercolor Society of North Carolina.

Xmas 2011, similar to xmas 2007

We et al spent xmas with in Annapolis and the baby showed up with his NYC germs and gave us all poopies and upchucks! Nine adults dropped like flies while the kiddies, despite runny diapers and throw ups, managed to still romp and jump unsupervised and play while the bastion of responsible grownups lay prone on the sidelines indisposed. Second holiday season where this has occurred-- patient 0 arrives and infects the household population, and destructs the harmony. At least this time we had at our disposal 3 bathrooms instead of just one. We are all well now but the downside of being around the grands infrequently is the susceptibility to their virulent contaminants.

Dinner last night

Cold and rainy weekend so we had this for dinner to comfort us. I also included this in last year's xmas care-pack of prepared meals and it was a huge hit.

Borscht with Beef  

(use mushrooms and omit beef and use vege broth for the meatless version) 

1 onion

3 cl garlic

1 # beef chuck or brisket
Brown beef bits with garlic and onions.

1 parsley root, shredded

2 parsnip, shredded

2 q stock

Add above and simmer, covered for hour or 2 until meat is tender.

Add:

1 T sugar

¼ c red wine vinegar

1 T salt 

2 jar/can red beets

1 jar pickled red cabbage

1 bag angel hair cabbage OR half head cabbage (red or green) shredded

1#potatoes, cubed

Simmer 30 min until vegetables are tender. 

Serve hot with garnishes:

sprinkling of parsley 

dollop of sour cream 

a broken country

I wrote this awhile ago

August 17, 1911

The United States of America is in a place we have not seen since the 1920s and 30s. We have so much broken and so much needs to be fixed. The government in charge of seeing that all this gets righted is the most polarized we have had in ninety years. Our congress seems more interested in party supremacy, re-elections and creating media frenzy than they do in fixing what is wrong. And we have so much wrong. They are making deals for the good of no one, except to say that their party has been victorious, and they get to say it on national television.

The financial debacle that set in motion the failure of the housing market, banking woes, and global disaster has seen no heavy handed attempt of correction. Banks are still wielding too much power and hoarding all our cash. Wall Street is still dallying in “funny money”.

Businesses can no longer easily borrow money, sell or even export their goods. Job loses continue to plummet as job skills become obsolete or as businesses can no longer financially support their employees. With most manufacturing work now done in foreign countries our cities are dying. Trade deficits indicate we no longer sell our goods oversees.

Middle class America is not buying or spending. Who else is there to support the economy?  Middle class has always been the backbone of this country and they are bearing the brunt of this country current crisis. They are losing their jobs; they are losing their houses; they spending their cash for health care, daycare, taxes, fuel, groceries--basics of life--whose costs are rising astronomically. Those that are solvent and employed are hanging on to every dollar for an unpredictable future. No one is spending except the rich--luxury cars, luxury homes, luxury living.

We are fighting very expensive wars and for the first time in history there were no revenue generating plans to support these wars. Who is paying for these wars? To keep the cost of these wars off the books was financial fraud. To ignore these cost when talking about our debt is unconscionable.

We continue to promote an antiquated educational system that is a failure. Businesses seek out the best and brightest that we are not producing. Graduates of the system no longer put us in the global competition. We need to produce top-notch workers relevant to the global job market, a market that is ever-evolving in ways not even fathomable a generation ago. Education continues to be victimized in the budget cuts. It like cutting off our nose to spite our face. Education is our children’s future, more so than any “debt.” Educating, i.e. upgrading skills of the unemployable to meet current demands would slash unemployment rates long term.

Consistently rising health care costs, talk of abolishing social security  and dire medicare reforms scare those of us on the brink of retirement. Health care reform was a disappointment.

Fuel costs and a failing infrastructure hamper all aspects of daily living in this country. Lack of usable, efficient, and technically savvy transportation systems make daily commuting, travel for business or leisure, an abomination. Research into alternative fuels, global warming appears to be nonessential.

The debt ceilings has been addressed, though with big hallyballoo. Initiating discussion on new tax revenues is apparently taboo. Why cant we tax the rich? Why cant corporations pay taxes owed? Talk of spending cuts by cutting programs that serve mostly the poor and middle class is the preferred remedy. Should we talk about lobbyists and corporocratic governing?

To label what actions that are being implemented and calling them socialistic--well, let me remind you that communism is failing around the globe. Socialism is not the evil. The most successful countries embrace a socialistic democracy as do we. We have social security, unemployment compensation, maternity leave, welfare and medicaid. Eliminate those programs and welcome yourselves to the third world.

Fixing all these ills is necessary. Even though we are the richest country on the planet, our country is failing, dying a slow death, and this fact seems imperceptible to the powers that be, our government, our Congress. Political leaders across the board are focused primarily on the politics, the party power games. They focus on buzz words that change weekly to hammer the media and the American people with their platforms. This is their goal; they want their party in power; they want their people to win elections and to those ends they are ignoring the dire state of this country. This is irresponsible. They are completely neglecting the essence of what it will take to right this country. This slow erosion of what it takes to make this country what it ought to be, unless these ills are addressed in a deliberate and conscience manner, will be its death. No worry of foreign invasions, or nuclear catastrophe. We are killing ourselves.

Our members of Congress were elected of the people, by the people and for the people. Theirs is to impose the will of the people in running the business of this country. “The People” is not “the party”. Instead their goals of our elected officials are to be egocentric celebrities, to fill the airspace with their incendiary phrases which demonize what they oppose, as they bathe in the prestige of being a cog in the wheel of the greatest governing body on the globe. They are not fit for the job we have given them. As American voters it is our duty to eliminate the incompetence in our government. Hopefully they are not the best we have with which to work? Where are the  magnanimous statesmen, the visionaries, the wise leaders who can lead this country and amend the damage.

I had great hopes in Obama election, but his burden is too big and without a cooperative legislature his job is impossible. The consequences are dire. This catastrophe is not the will of the people.

Peter the soldier

Yesterday was Veterans Day. Never paid much attention to that holiday but nowadays with Facebook, etc people are constantly singing the praises and their gratitudes to the soldiers fighting crazy wars in the Middle East--understandable because these soldiers are their children, grandchildren , nieces, nephews, etc. Lots of pictures and lots of adulations!

So I thought I would post a picture of Peter from his soldiering days in the early seventies. Most people probably do not even know we were in the Army. (I say "we" because I was with him every step of the way, no separations.) It was then I realized that I could not even remember a photo of him in any kind of army garb. I realized then that I don't think we ever took pictures of him in a uniform. That fact struck me. I think there is a class picture of him graduating from basic which was at Ft McClelland, AL. At that time it was the training center for WACS (Women's Army Corp) but also for the chemical corps which is where Peter was assigned.

He wound up in the Army not by desire but by process. He joined ROTC in college so he could get  $50 extra a month, his spending money throughout college. Soccer and Lacrosse and being a residence hall assistant covered everything else. He came out of college debt free.

In 1969 he did graduate as a second lieutenant in the US Army Corps. His two best friends, Bob Lipinski and Ron Seabold managed to avoid the service . Bob had joined ROTC for the same reasons as Peter had but he went to court after graduation and got CO (conscientious objector) status. Seabold was 4F which meant he was physically unfit. We all used to laugh because he was made ineligible on account of knee injury from playing football on Sunday afternoon with the guys behind the high school. It was kid of a joke, or a fluke. Thinking about it now and knowing how the world works his dad, a prominent community guy, probably pulled some strings. Dr Seabold was pretty much a pacifist, though a quiet one.

In 1968, Vietnam blew up and things got incredibly heated and boys were dying in droves. Seems like everyone I knew in Vietnam died, lost a limb or 2, or 3 or 4 or came back crazy. Those last two years of college were very active demonstrating against the Vietnam War. I got my first bell bottom jeans and t-shirt ( the uniform of the day) at a navy surplus store for the Memorial March in DC in the spring of '68. That was also the year Martin Luther King and Bobby Kennedy were assassinated.

When Peter graduated he toyed with the idea of doing as Bob was doing and "going CO" as we called it. But he is too well groomed with the idea that one must stand up and meet his responsibility so that never happened. Never even came close to happening.

He went active in March, 1970 and we drove to Anniston, AL to begin his army career. We had decided that if orders ever came through sending him to Vietnam we would leave the country. That ideal was never tested because those orders never materialized. As a matter of fact, he got "an early out" due to the glut of lieutenants in 1972 and the elimination of post chemical officers on most bases. Agent Orange was passe and the war was winding down, its apex being the Tet Offensive in 1968.
We had Ben in the army--Ft Cambell, KY. His hospital bill was a tad over $5. Remarkable! I learned to cook. There was nothing else to do. I tried to hang in the Officers Wives Club but didn't do that very well. Never hung much in the Officers Club which was the social hub on base.

We did belong to something called "The Concerned Officers Movement" introduced to us by a young lieutenant who lived across the street. He and his wife (I don't think they were married but they claimed to be so they could get base housing) were Cornell grads. She baked whole grain bread and introduced me to some bits of the alternative life style. We never got to be real friends. She stuck to herself mostly and I had a kid. I don't ever remember their names.

Peter was pretty vocal about his opposition the war. He and his Master Sargeant had heated and lengthy discussions frequently regarding the war during their work day. His MS used to say "what is the sense of practicing all the time if you never get to play a game." As a result of all this our phone was tapped and in the end, when Peter was due to be discharged things got very bumpy.

In those days we drove a VW bus with tie dye curtains, I wore my hair long and loose, bell bottom jeans and tee shirts. Our baby boy had long curly hair. Those were indicative of a whole other culture, one not well espoused by our army peers. In the end Peter went from being recommended for the army commendation medal to almost being dishonorably discharged. Turns out the confidential files that he was in charge of were missing some papers. These files were checked just before Peter was to be discharged. Some papers were missing. Now, when they were checked prior and when those papers were last accounted for was unknown. That fact was his salvation but it took some weeks for the Army to aquiesce. Peter was on Valium during that time to settle his stomach. Peter never takes drugs so things had to be bad.

Then we had to go through the process of checking out of our quarters. We decided not to hire the Army's sanctioned cleaning crew, a side line business of one of the army officers. We opted to clean the house ourselves. Peter took our entire stove apart, to a million pieces and scrubbed the grease off of each individual piece. We vacuumed out all the heating vents. These were the notorious places where they would flunk you and not allow clearance of quarters. Our place was spotless. But they did manage to take a razor blade to the underside of the toilet bowl and scrap up some residue and measure the grass during an ice storm and find it a quarter of inch too long. We failed! I scrubbed the toilet while Peter took a broken push mower (a wheel was jammed but he was so angry brute strength made it work) through the ice coated grass and thus we were able to leave very late in the day.
Our army career was over!