Why I Love Philadelphia!

Why I love Philadelphia – Philly “outside the box” 

Writers Group Assignment - August 2013

The parades. The museums. The theaters. The Mann and Kimmel Centers, Reading Terminal, The Liberty Bell, Independence Hall, The Seaport Museum, The Michelou, The USS America, The Spirit of Philadelphia, and the water front. The Eagles, Phillies, Flyers, the 76’ers, and let us not forget the statue of "Rocky", his fists perpetually risen to the sky on muscular arms, in front of the Museum of Art – all wonderful reasons to love Philadelphia! But, those are the obvious ones. There is another side to Philly that often goes unappreciated, or not appreciated enough!

The Wissahickon Creek and Park, the massive stone statues of the Quaker, and the Indian chief Tediescum set high on the hills in the park. The finger bridge, the red covered bridge and the wonderful stone bridges that cross the creek, with historic Valley Green Inn nestled quietly beside it, with diners gently clinking glasses of iced tea on the front terrace. Joggers, walkers, mothers pushing upscale strollers with their babies strapped safely in. Move over! Here come two horses with their riders cheerfully talking back and forth with each other.  A few walkers take out their camera phones and snap a few pictures, as the riders greet them with shy smiles. With the Monastery and Northwestern stables at each end of the park, horses are a common sight. In fact, “Forbidden Drive” meant at one time, “No cars or other mechanical moving machines on this drive. It is intended for horses and riders only.”

 The plaintive call of a red tailed hawk, the scatter of a chipmunk making a mad dash across Forbidden Drive, weaving in and out between people and dogs and baby strollers,  and too many bicycles to count!  Ducks, geese, birds of many species all vying for their place on the water, hoping to catch a fish in the shallow, cool waters of the creek.

Looking out my front door and seeing a herd of horses, burros, and sometimes a llama or two – and knowing that my mailing address says “Philadelphia, PA” makes me smile a goofy grin! A huge city, no less! Yet, I expect to see Rebbecca of Sunny brook farm picking up chestnuts off the ground, dropped by the aging chestnut trees that border Saul Agricultural School Field.I am fortunate enough to live very close by to Saul School; its sprawling fields are my amphitheater. It is the only school of its type on the entire east coast, as it proudly calls Philadelphia its home.

The antique car shows that spring up now and then around the area like wild mushrooms that grow overnight! The wonderful festivals that honor all sorts of things: holidays, cultures, ethnic groups, and the greatest ethnic gathering of all, St. Patrick’s Day parade, at which time everyone becomes Irish! And the Mummers! Unique to Philly, the Mummers are in a class of entertainment by themselves.Wild colors, toe-tapping, foot stomping music fills the streets, as people do the "Philly Strut" along with dancing marchers. It is a spectacle to behold!

Let us not forget King of Prussia Mall, at one time the largest mall in the entire country! Even though I hardly ever go there, it is nice to know that it is waiting for me to return whenever the need to do so may arise. Speaking of Malls, there are so many within a 30 mile radius that it almost seems ludicrous! This just doesn’t happen in a sleepy little upstate NY community, such as the one I hailed from.

Cheese steaks, soft pretzels with mustard, macaroni and cheese served with diced tomatoes, and pork loin served on New Year’s Day – plus the absolutely must-do corned beef and cabbage on St. Paddy’s day.

Everything in this essay is a part of the tapestry that makes up wonderful Philadelphia – and I for one am very happy and proud to be a part of it!   

44 different Philly ‘attractions’ mentioned

51 if you add in the ducks, geese, birds, horses, llamas, dogs, and chipmunk!

Writers' Group Assignment: Why People Lie

Why People Lie 

– Writer’s Group assignment for 9-20-13

Lying has always been a topic of interest for me for one basic reason:  my mother absolutely prohibited it. She told me my tongue would turn coal black, and fall out. She told me my soul would go to the eternal fires of hell. She told me she would beat the stuffing out of me, which to me, was the worst fate of all. So, I tried very hard not to lie when I was a kid. As a result, I had a somewhat uneventful childhood, while my friends were all having a ball and sopping up the joys of unbridled and nearly worry--free youth.

Then, I grew up. Things changed. First, there was college, back in the dinosaur days before the beauty and ease of computers. How do one hundred and fifty four freshmen do a 10 page report on The Great 100 Books, when there are just one set of them in the library? Easy – you lie. “Sorry, but my car broke down and I couldn’t get to the library in (whatever city).”  It didn’t help. My grade was still a great big “F” for that assignment.

Next lie, to my parents:  “My professor was a total jerk! She lost my paper and refused to give me the grade I deserved!”  Their stony stares told me my lie fell pathetically flat, but I stood by it, no matter what.

I just gave a great example of one of the top 3 reasons why people lie: to avoid trouble.  I once heard that there are mainly 3 reasons why people do lie and they are:

1. To avoid trouble

2. To make oneself seem more important

3.  For personal gain

All other lies would come under one of those topics, such as reason number 1:  to avoid trouble can mean to avoid problems in relationships, or bodily harm,  or avoid punishment of any type, and so on. It can even mean lying to avoid hurting someone’s feelings – which, of course, could translate out to be troublesome to the liar. It if means “trouble” in any flavor, the lie falls under reason number 1.

Then, reason 2: to make oneself seem far more puffed up than he or she is. That can mean lying to appear smarter, or more educated, or more experienced than one really is. And, it can also mean lying to appear richer than one actually is. Lying to influence others is also an ear-mark of this reason, and can have deadly consequences. Just look at most politicians!

Reason number 3 is probably the grand-daddy of them all. People lie to acquire things more easily, with as little work involved as possible. A great example of this is cheating on one’s income tax returns. A very real, yet sad, first cousin to this is stealing – the two go hand in hand.  Example: claiming something belongs to you when you know it belongs to someone else is a combo sin: lying and stealing.

I guess my mother was right. I’ve tried to live my life as honestly as possible, telling little “white lies” hear and there like we all do. But all in all, she was a very wise woman and I trusted her teaching. And, to think that at one point in my life, from about age 15 to age 22,  I thought she was the dumbest simpleton I ever knew. 

To say otherwise would be a lie.   

The only thing missing.....

Well, I guess I am not quite over the 'nesting" instinct. Relax, gang. I'm not talking about babies (at our age....Good Lord Almighty, NO!) I'm talking about sprucing up the nest we already have.


What they say is true: DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT start any projects around the house, or you will be sorry! One little thing somehow mushrooms into a mad flurry of activity, resulting in bunches of money going out faster than it ever came in. And, somehow, it is all never quite 'done.' So, about half way through our little spruce- up, I got the bright idea to see what else is on the market. Yeah -- a buyer's market is THE time to look, I told myself. Really, I was trying to duck out of going any further with our madness of fixing up this place we call home. So, believe it or not, we DID find something rather interesting, just a few miles up the road from us. It sounded wonderful, the kind of house I always dreamed of!! The pictures on the web showed a house well cared-for and cared about with every creature comfort you could think of, including a massive "Florida room" -- which could house the entire downstairs of our present home, with room left over. A HUGE in-ground pool was right outside that room from paradise -- and the inviting blue water looked so cool and refreshing!! I just about ran all around, looking for my floaties, as we prepared to meet the Realtor the next day at the house.



Waiting for us in the spacious driveway, the Realtor figured he'd better prepare us for a little surprise: "There is some slight water damage, " he said, looking a bit sheepish. "Don't worry - a coat or paint will have it looking good as new in no time!" he finished with a flourish.

We entered the massive house (did I mention it was huge??) Nearly 4000 sq.ft. I believe the ad said.And, about 50 of 'em were lying face down in the downstairs hallway. The hallway ceiling had fallen down and lay in dusty piles all over the once-powder blue rug! "Water damage??" I asked, stepping gingerly around the fallen plaster pieces.

"Uh..yeah," he said. "Toilet upstairs probably over flowed or something. Hey! Did you see the size of the family room over here?!" he quickly added, hoping to distract us for a moment or two or a thousand.

My hubby was ominously quiet, always a bad sign. Polite to a fault -- but not saying much whatsoever. He asked where the basement door was and Mr. Realtor pointed to it. Richie went on downstairs and I swear, I have NEVER, in my whole life, seen such a dark, dreary, and totally horror movie-like basement! When I saw him round the bottom of the stairs, I held my breath, and squeezed my eyes shut tightly, expecting to hear a blood curdling scream at any moment! None came. Within moments, Richie was back upstairs.

"How long has the water been pooling down there?" he asked. The realtor tried to explain various scenarios re: sump pumps and what-not (boring stuff for a woman!) and I lost interest. I wanted to see the appliances in the kitchen. One look at the ancient stove caused me to actually ache for the new range back home that we bought 2 years ago, and its lovely glass top and self cleaning oven!

As I heard the men's conversation turn toward things such as "biologic tests for mold" and other dry as dirt topics, I meandered outside to view the pool and landscaping. The pool was a total nightmare! I mean, at any moment I expected to see a skeleton, eye ball, or other scary thing pop up to the nearly green-black water's surface, next to the dead cover floaty things bobbing around aimlessly. In my wildest dreams, I could NOT imagine that water ever, ever becoming blue and sparkling clean again! And the landscaping -- holy smokes! I never knew weeds could turn into tree-like plants if left alone to grow long enough, undisturbed and well nourished by the yuck probably leaching from the pool. Just how old WERE those pictures shown on the Web??? Probably about 5 years was my guess! (Turns out, I was almost right!)

We thanked the realtor as we left, and honestly, we could not get away fast enough! Back home that night, we both sat in our cozy living room, enjoying all of the sprucing up we did over the past 2 weeks, including putting in a deck out back and a patio out front -- and felt safe and secure there. We talked a bit about 'the dream house' we went to see and as I live and breathe, I will never forget my better half's final comment on it:


With dead-pan expression, he said, " The only thing missing was Jack Nicholson’s insane grinning face coming around a corner and yelling "Heeeeere's Johnnny!!"



Yup. That said it all!

Three Little Words

This was our Writers Group assignment for Feb. 15, 2013

Three Little Words

Three little magic words can set a person’s heart to dancing and leaping virtually out of his chest with visions of sheer delight going through his mind!  His senses on fire with thoughts of pleasures as yet unfolded, he anticipates how great life is going to become with the utterance of just those 3 words.  Sadly enough, some of us don’t learn these three words – said all together in one comprehensive thought – until there is some frost on the roof and the fire in the furnace is growing a tad dimmer. For me, I learned them early on,  thanks to Big Foot, or a reasonable facsimile thereof.The words are: "No, Thank You."

It was back in the late 70’s, when my son Jimmy was in the Cub Scouts. Needless to say, I was a den mother and up to my neck in volunteering for that noble cause. Someone came up with the idea of a real kick-butt Halloween party, complete with the landing of a flying saucer and a cameo appearance of none other then Big Foot himself. I never quite made the connection between the two, but that’s what the committee voted and decided upon. Besides, no one dared to come up against fellow committee person Lizette Beesley (who came up with the idea to begin with) too strongly as none of us wanted to deal with the fall out of her venom-laced outbursts of sheer anger. So, Big Foot it was to be.

“Who will help make this costume?” Lizette challenged. All eyes looked downward toward the table – all, that is, except for mine. Knowing I also had the Brownies, Girl Scouts, 4 H, youth league basketball, and community marching band volunteer duties to juggle, what do I say? Her eyes were burning two holes into my skull! She knew exactly who to target.

“I’ll do it!” I proclaimed as my stomach pulled inward toward my bowels and the vein in my forehead throbbed a little bit. After all, Lizette used the word “help”, insinuating that she was going to be in charge of the production. I could surely help. After all, what were an extra couple of hours of my time donated for a good cause, anyway?

That was my first mistake. My second one was in suggesting the materials of said costume – which she quickly put me in charge of procuring. Third mistake was I agreed to do the shopping/gathering of all of the stuff needed. So, the next day I bought four skeins of brown wool, six yards of burlap and a latch hook gizmo thing. My plan was to latch hook individual strands of yarn to the burlap, which I would of course fashion into a one piece suit (like an infant’s onesie, but enormous in size!) Lucky me – the volunteer to be Big Foot and wear the costume was a full six foot four inch dad of one of the cubs in my den. So, this costume was going to be extra, extra, extra large. Oh, boy.

One month later, and with my strained eyes streaming lines of salt water from seeing almost nothing but six inch lengths of brown wool for four weeks, and with fingers now permanently curled in the weirdest way from latch hooking literally thousands of these pieces, it started to really get to me! The four women who said they would help me never once showed up. It was one excuse after another – some of them quite creative, I might add. But, nevertheless, there was I like Mother Macree, latch hooking day after day, night after night until I wanted to pass out!

The big night arrived and our Big Foot was a smash hit! In fact, I can still hear the ear-splitting screams of the younger kids as they fled in terror from the room,  with hysterical, frantic mothers running after them. To this day, Lizette’s youngest daughter goes into a form of  PTSD at seeing the color brown – which is a strange kind of justice, I think. Score "one" for Karma.

Anyway, I learned from that experience that there are some times when you simply must take a step back – view the situation for what it really is (an escape for someone else from some chore they’re rather avoid)…and firmly aver, “No, thank you!”

Pardon me, but I have to get going now for two committee meetings here at JW, and will be teaching a class on brain training next week. Then, our chorus will be getting ready for St. Paddy’s day, and our beading group is gearing up for a big jewelry sale…and…........