The Other Side of 50

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Spring

noreply@blogger.com (Phyllis R) — Wed, 27 Jan 2010 17:16:00 +0000

Please tell me that spring isn't far away.
I'm sitting in my office looking out the window at all the robins searching the ground for a snack. Sure, I know that robins are not migratory and not a true sign of the approach of spring, but I can't help thinking -- or maybe just hoping -- that spring is not too far away.
After all, next week, Punxsutawney Phil just might not see his shadow. That's something I never really understood. If he sees his shadow, it means that spring is another six weeks away. It's just not logical. If he sees his shadow, that mean's its a nice sunny day, which in my mind means good weather is on the horizon.
But there are other signs that spring is near -- my pansies have started blooming again, its time for the Phillies Phantasy baseball camp in Florida and Downingtown Little League finished up their baseball signups.
Here's hoping. I've already had enough of winter.

Going WABAC

noreply@blogger.com (Phyllis R) — Wed, 18 Nov 2009 18:44:00 +0000

I just found out that we are about to celebrate the anniversary of an event that I believe has influenced my life and my personality. I've always been told that I have a strange, sarcastic sense of humor -- this could be the reason.
Rocky and Bullwinkle debuted on Nov. 29, 1959, as Rocky & His Friends, starring Rocket J. Squirrel and Bullwinkle J. Moose.
My favorite character was Mr. Peabody and his WABAC machine. For those of you who don’t remember the show or who were too young to ever experience it, Peabody was a very intelligent talking dog who had a pet boy named Sherman. His segment -- Peabody’s Improbable History -- offered a new look at history and what might have happened if ... And, it always ended with a really bad pun. It always intrigued me that we could go back and witness history -- as comical as his version was.
Rocky was a show that appealed to kids and adults. It was really funny, but offered intelligent humor, too.
I need to go out an buy a DVD of it and relive my youth! And laugh a lot!

Let's play

noreply@blogger.com (Phyllis R) — Wed, 11 Nov 2009 21:20:00 +0000

I’m a proponent of the philosophy that we don’t spend enough time playing. If each of us spent a little more time having fun, we might not be as stressed as it seems we all are.
There is a place near Rochester, N.Y. that might agree with me -- the Strong National Museum of Play and its National Toy Hall of Fame.
Each year, the museum inducts three iconic toys into its Hall of Fame.This year, it’s the ball, Nintendo Game Boy and the Big Wheel.
Everyone has spent time playing with a ball -- whether it’s a game of catch or soccer or a round of golf (although I’m not quite sure if golf is really stress reducing -- see last blog entry!).
Of course, you can still play Mario and Tetris on your computer, but it’s not quite the same.
I can proudly say that I have had all three. The Big Wheel was my daughter’s, but I did log a few miles on it myself. It was a blue Smurf Big Wheel. I’m sure I looked good pedaling down our driveway with a big Smurf head leading the way.

A day of golf

noreply@blogger.com (Phyllis R) — Mon, 21 Sep 2009 17:34:00 +0000

I love playing golf.
I went out on a course with my husband -- who I will start off by saying is a very patient man -- and was so excited to hit in the 90s. The only problem was that it was a nine-hole executive course. He would tell me how straight my shots were and would say nothing of the fact that they didn’t go very far. There was usually less walking involved to get to the ball than back to the cart!
However, today has been set aside to honor the golf course I have mastered. Today, according to some sources is Miniature Golf Day.
We played on one MG course in Florida that was covered with grass -- just like a real course. Didn’t like it.
I love the ones where you have to hit through and around things. Send your ball into the mouth of an alligator. Hit through the legs of the nasty pirate as he’s swinging his sword in front of his legs. That’s my kind of fun. If there’s water involved -- especially the bright blue stuff -- that’s even better.
I also want to add o all those parents I’ve seen on the MG courses teaching their kids how to properly line up their putts and expressing their displeasure when the little ones don’t sink the ball -- IT’S A GAME.
By the way, tomorrow is Elephant Appreciation Day. Where are those peanuts!

what's in a name?

noreply@blogger.com (Phyllis R) — Mon, 24 Nov 2008 22:31:00 +0000

I was named for my mother’s sister. She was named for my grandmother’s favorite actress at the time. I have met one or two Phyllises in my time, but not many. When I was growing up, kids had trouble either pronouncing or spelling it and I really hated my name. But now, I kind of enjoy being different.
I went on the state Department of Health Web site and checked out some of the names given to newborns and found that there was only one Phyllis born in Pennsylvania in 2006 (the most recent record I could find). As far as girl names, I’m right up there with Plum -- another unique name for that year.
The most popular was Ava, with 872 girls given that name.Checking out names for other coworkers, I searched for Natalie and found 357, to which Natalie replied, “I knew I wasn’t unique.” Actually, there are 11 Uniques -- which I guess makes them not so.
On the boys’ side, the most popular was Jacob with 1077. There were 407 Justins (another coworker) and 95 Scotts (my husband). Unfortunately for this poor child, there was one Chubby. Would I love to jump ahead to elementary or middle school and see what comments that name gets!
You know, there are some countries that legislate what names are permissible to give your children. For the sake of some children, that might not be a bad idea.

Thank a teacher

noreply@blogger.com (Phyllis R) — Sun, 16 Nov 2008 20:20:00 +0000

Nov. 16 is the first day of the National Education Association’s American Education Week. Aside from parents, there is no group of people more influential in our children’s lives than their teachers.
I can still remember the teachers I had during my years in the Great Valley School District -- the fourth-grade teacher who let me be the first to read a new book because she knew my father was in the hospital at the time, or the sixth-grade teacher who increased my fascination with science by bringing in cow parts from the local butcher for us to dissect.
Now it’s my daughter, Kate, that’s influencing a future generation. After a few years of working in research, she decided that she wanted to make a difference in the lives of students and inspire others -- in particular females -- to go into science, so she went into teaching.
She is now an AP biology teacher in Maryland and just loves her work. She is so proud of her students -- especially last year’s class valedictorian who went to University of Maryland (where my daughter went) and majored in environmental science and policy/biology, just like Kate.
So thank a teacher for influencing and making a lasting impression on you and future generations.

Perfect toy for Christmas gift giving

noreply@blogger.com (Phyllis R) — Wed, 12 Nov 2008 16:48:00 +0000

Good news for all you toy lovers out there. There have been some new inductions into the National Toy Hall of Fame, part of the Strong National Museum of Play in Rochester, N.Y.
Joining past inductees such as the bicycle, kite, marbles, crayons and Mr. Potato Head (one of my favorites) is (drum roll ....) THE STICK!!!
According to a press release from the museum, longevity is the key to getting into the Hall of Fame. The stick certainly fits that bill. It was also praised for its low cost and its ability to inspire learning and creativity. Think horse, sword, boat ...
In these hard economic times, what a great gift to to give to your children for Christmas. I have a few I can sell at a discounted price. Won’t your kids be pleased to get something that has been enshrined in the Hall of Fame!

Honoring veterans

noreply@blogger.com (Phyllis R) — Fri, 07 Nov 2008 16:14:00 +0000

The following appeared in the Berwyn Post in November 1944

To My Buddy

By S/Sgt. M.T. Purish
You’ve left my side to go the way young men have gone before

You heard the call, you did not wait
So straight you held your head aloft,And steps that carried you boldly toward

The warrior’s goal and passed that too.
The heights that soared about our heads,

Did melt before you and fade away.
You knew no fear, my gallant friend,

It never touched your heart.
Somewhere beyond this earthbound man upon the velvet sky,

A brilliant star flares up and beckons in the night.
So long, my comrade, Good-bye dear friend, the roll is being called up there,

Among the heroes of our land.
Dedicated to my Comrade Sgt. Maurice S. Houston, who gave his life so that these United States might be forever what he saw in them.

Maurice Houston was my uncle. I never knew him, but I heard a lot from my father about how his brother lived and died. He grew up in Berwyn and graduated from Tredyffrin-Easttown High School. When World War II broke out, he served in the Intelligence Section of the Army Air Corps with the 5th Bomber Command in the Pacific. He died at the age of 30, killed in action on Aug. 12, 1944, on Biak Island. His name is now part of the Hall of Heroes at the Chester County Courthouse.

On Veterans Day, and throughout the year, remember those men and women who fought for our country.

e-mail time

noreply@blogger.com (Phyllis R) — Wed, 22 Oct 2008 15:03:00 +0000

I got an e-mail the other day from a friend, forwarded from a friend of hers, and so on ...

It contained about 20 of the cutest photos of dogs dressed in Halloween costumes. Some really tolerant pooches there. Also, I didn’t see any cats dressed up. I could just image the complaining and the scratches I would get if I tried to dress up my cat in a costume of any kind. She even hates the collar.

Anyway, it really got me thinking about the originator of this e-mail and of the dozens of others with equally large content. I got another e-mail about two months ago with dozens of beautiful photos, set to music.

What do these people do for a living? How do they have time to compile all this?

If anyone knows the answer, let me know. I want that job!!

Spam (the food -- if you want to call it that)

noreply@blogger.com (Phyllis R) — Tue, 21 Oct 2008 16:13:00 +0000

Last fall we went to North Carolina’s Outer Banks for the wedding of friends Wendy and Brian -- we call them Brendy.
A group of friends rented a house for a week and shared meals together. Everyone brought food to share, but we brought one thing I was sure only my husband would eat -- Spam. It nowhere near the top of my favorite foods list (although I really can’t understand since I’ll eat scrapple). He loves it. Of course, that’s not saying much since he discovered haggis when he went to Scotland and ate it almost every day while he was there. He was in the Navy for a few years, so I think he’ll eat pretty much anything.
Well, was I surprised.
I begrudgingly cooked it for him one morning for breakfast and two friends, attracted by the scent of something cooking, arrived in the kitchen. They tried it and loved it and eventually went out and bought some for themselves.
No longer can I kid him about his taste in food.
My husband has a new motto: Turning the world on to Spam, one slice at a time.

Catching the Phever

noreply@blogger.com (Phyllis R) — Thu, 16 Oct 2008 16:33:00 +0000

Everyone seems to have Phillies Phever. I’m one of them. But I’ve had the fever for most of my life.
It started back in the mid 1960s when my friend Linda’s father had tickets for the games. I’m not sure he had season tickets, but I know we went to a lot of games at Connie Mack Stadium. He had great seats, as I recall they were in right field, only about 10 rows back.
The three of us would bring our baseball mitts. One of my most vivid memories is of the day her father, with crutches and a cast on his leg, stood up and caught a foul ball hit by Johnny Callison. He of course gave it to Linda, who was in love with Callison (who coincidentally played right field). I, being a bit more of the wild child, was enamored with lefty Bo Belinsky.
So who are the teenage girls dreaming about now?

Fall in Chester County

noreply@blogger.com (Phyllis R) — Mon, 06 Oct 2008 21:48:00 +0000

Every year around this time, my parents would get in the car and drive north. They both loved looking at the changing leaves. They would drive for hours, stay a few days in Vermont and head back to Chester County.
My father spent much of his youth in Vermont. I’ve had family members living there since the late 1700s. There are still a few that have not sold out to ski resort developers. It is a beautiful state not only in the fall, but all year.
But no matter how beautiful Vermont was, they would always look forward to coming home. My father used to say that there was no place more beautiful than Chester County in the fall. I agree.
Look out your window and enjoy the view (and save a lot of gas).

Bard barbs

noreply@blogger.com (Phyllis R) — Mon, 29 Sep 2008 19:59:00 +0000

Sometimes I’ve been known to utter a word or two that I shouldn’t. A word that would never be printed in the newspaper or on my blog (others I’m not so sure about). I have learned to control myself in most situations, but sometimes I feel that need to really express myself.
For this, I turn to one of my favorite Web sites -- www.flwyd.dhs.org/curse/curselist. Check it out. It was created by Jerry Maguire, a high school English teacher in Indiana. What a great way to teach high school students about Shakespeare’s work and words.
Now, when you get really mad at someone you can call them a beslubbering boil-brained dewberry. Take that you lumpish folly-fallen hedgepig.

puppy love

noreply@blogger.com (Phyllis R) — Mon, 15 Sep 2008 19:43:00 +0000

I’m a grandmother.
For those of you who know me, don’t be too surprised. My grandchild is Mia, a dog.
My daughter Kate got a puppy over the summer and when she went to Seattle for a conference, I got to take care of the dog for a week.
What a love, but what a challenge. We have a cat, pretty much an independent creature -- food, love and a clean litter box is all she needs. Now I know why my husband and I decided to wait until retirement to get a dog. Those 6 a.m. walks were torture (if I haven’t brought it up before, I am not a morning person. I found myself actually enjoying the walks, although hating the hour). Home for lunch and another walk. One more long walk after work and another before bed. Boy, did I sleep soundly at night.
I miss her now. The other day we went to Maryland to visit. To be honest, I was just as excited to see the puppy and how she’s grown up as to see my daughter -- Kate doesn’t greet me with puppy dog kisses or curl up in my lap and fall asleep.

What a strange trip its been

noreply@blogger.com (Phyllis R) — Tue, 10 Jun 2008 20:02:00 +0000

It was really a trip back into my history.
I was working on a story about the Town Tours and Village Walks program for Chester County Living (See Sunday, 6/15). I met Lynne Hockenbury, co-chairman of Malvern’s historical commission, at Malvern Borough Hall.
Borough Hall used to be malvern Public School -- the elementary school where my friend’s mother, Mary Koeneman, was a teacher.
Then, across the street was what is now a private school. In my past it was the Monday Afternoon Club home.
When I was in fifth grade I took dancing classes there. I learned to fox trot and cha-cha, but I never learned to waltz. You see, my dancing partner -- and the love of my life at that time, Peter -- was sick and I refused to dance with anyone else.
Fortunately, that never came back to haunt me. I have yet to be asked to dance a waltz.

A unwelcomed visitor

noreply@blogger.com (Phyllis R) — Wed, 21 May 2008 16:57:00 +0000

Went to use the grill last night for the first BBQ of the season. Seems it was already in use.
A bird had built its nest there -- sheltered from all the elements and predators. A cozy spot filled with pine needles.
Every spring I tell my husband he can’t trim any bushes around our property until well after nesting season so we don’t disturb the birds. So when we opened the grill and saw the nest -- which filled the interior space of the rather large unit -- he just looked at me. Do I have to leave this one undisturbed too!!
There’s going to be one very upset bird today. They can have the trees, but not my grill.

the woodpecker story

noreply@blogger.com (Phyllis R) — Wed, 02 Apr 2008 22:05:00 +0000

So, the story about the woodpeckers.
It seems a woodpecker decided to go after the wood siding on a friend’s house early in the morning. After numerous attempts to discourage the bird -- shouting, turning on lights, throwing water on it from the upstairs bedroom, the man was tired of waking up to the rapping sound.
Frustrated, he decided to have a face to beak confrontation with the offending bird. He threw the covers back, jumped up out of bed, ran out the front door, turned on the garden hose and proceeded to spray it at the bird.
The man was successful, the bird flew away.
But, as he was standing there, one of his neighbors drove past and yelled out something from the rolled-down window, gestured wildly and began honking his horn. It was only then that the man remembered he slept in the nude and -- in his rush to get rid of the bird -- well, you figure out the rest.
True story, honest.

Spring arrives

noreply@blogger.com (Phyllis R) — Tue, 18 Mar 2008 16:28:00 +0000

Spring arrived about two weeks ago at my house. While the calendar says it comes on March 20, I know differently. All the signs are there.
Yes, the trees are starting to bud and the bulbs are sprouting up, but the biggest -- and most annoying sign -- is the all-you-can-eat buffet that has been set up by the birds in our gutters!
At dawn’s early light they are in there, picking away at I don’t know what -- and I really don’t care.
Actually, I do care. I’m a night person. I hate mornings. I hate mornings even more when I am woken up by rat-tat-tats coming from the area of the roof. And the sun is barely up.
I know it’s just starting. Pretty soon, we’ll go to sleep with the windows open and wake up -- very early -- to the sound of the birds singing. It’s a lovely sound, but couldn’t they just wait until about 8 a.m.?
At least it’s not woodpeckers. That’s a different story I’ll save for another time.

The race is on

noreply@blogger.com (Phyllis R) — Tue, 19 Feb 2008 19:19:00 +0000

I watched the Daytona 500 on Sunday. It brought to mind some thoughts on driving in Chester County
1 -- No matter how fast you go, there always seems to be another driver who wants to go faster. Did you know that when they were constructing the Rt. 30 bypass, a car was clocked at 120 going through the cattle shoots?
2 -- People seem to be more courteous in the morning than in the evening commute. I guess no one is very eager to get to work, so it’s “Sure, you can get in front of me.” It’s very different in the evening though. Everyone is anxious to get home. No “please” and “thank you” then.
3 -- I didn’t know it, but turn signals are optional on some cars!
4 -- Multi-tasking is an art form practiced frequently by drivers. I know one who can eat a sandwich with one hand and drink coffee with the other, all the while driving with knees.
5 -- Just like in in NASCAR, drafting is very popular. I’ve been driving at 60 mph and had cars following so closely, I couldn’t see their headlights.
6 -- People are very trusting of their brakes. When pulling up to a stop sign or a traffic light, they are only applied at the last minute.
7 -- The yellow traffic light, which I believe used to mean slow down, a red light is coming up, has become HURRY, a red light is coming up. And red now means, if your close go through because there is a delay on the green.
What have you observed? More later.

frozen funds

noreply@blogger.com (Phyllis R) — Wed, 16 Jan 2008 22:33:00 +0000

What an ingenious way to raise money. The Brandywine Valley Association is holding its first Make a Splash Polar Plunge on Feb. 9. Those who raise at least $25 for the group are invited to take a dip in the frigid Brandywine Creek.
OK, so it’s a good cause, but you’re not going to see me taking a dive. Not even a toe in the water. I protect my body heat.
There was a guy who used to work here who was a member of the Polar Bear Club and every New Years Day he would jump into the frozen water. Was he crazy or what?
If you are a bit crazy and are interested in participating in the challenge, go to the Web site at www.brandywinewatershed.org or call Cindy Loveland who is coordinating the event at 610-793-1090.
If I change my mind, you’ll hear about it.

noreply@blogger.com (Phyllis R) — Tue, 18 Dec 2007 17:24:00 +0000

December brings a love-hate relationship. While I love shopping and buying gifts for people, I hate the crowds, especially the parking nightmares. Last weekend, I went to the King of Prussia mall and drove around for about 25 minutes trying to find a place to park. In many aisles there were one or two cars just parked there waiting for someone to move their car. I gave up. I went to Exton and found a spot, got in to the stores, did my shopping and went home -- all without any major hassle or wait.
And even more than shopping, I love driving around looking at the lights. When I was alot younger, my parents would drive me around the area (we lived in Paoli) to see the displays. When I got married and our daughter came along, we would get in the car and drive around. When it comes to Christmas lights, the words “too much” doesn’t exist. The more the better. There are a few spots that are my favorites -- one home in Thorndale, another in East Brandywine. Then there’s Herrs down in Nottingham, Longwood Gardens and Waterloo Gardens in West Whiteland.
Tell me about your favorite spot.

A legend dies

noreply@blogger.com (Phyllis R) — Wed, 31 Oct 2007 21:53:00 +0000

I was sad to hear about the death of Robert Goulet. It was in the early 1980s, soon after I started in newspapers and he was appearing at the old Downingtown Inn. The Downingtown Inn was the place to go in its time, all the celebrities would go there and he was one of them.

I was assigned to interview him after his performance. Sure, he was an actor and trained to put on a good appearance for the public, but he was really charming. And his voice!! He wasn’t bad looking either.

After I finished asking him what I’m sure were some stupid questions, he told me it was the best interview he had ever given. Then he reached down, grabbed my hand and kissed it. I was speechless.

What a line, but I didn’t care.

Unfortunately, my husband was there with me, taking photographs (including the one above). Again unfortunately, he didn’t get a shot of the kiss. But I know it happened.

Over the years, his name would pop up in conversations -- usually making fun of him. But I stood up for my man.

He holds a special spot in my heart -- and on my hand.

An uncommon language

noreply@blogger.com (Phyllis R) — Thu, 11 Oct 2007 20:52:00 +0000

I recently got back from visiting my sister-in-law and her husband in Florida. While most people in Florida don’t speak with a heavy Southern accent, they live in Pensacola, less than 30 minutes from Alabama.
While there, we went to what could be my and my husband’s favorite bar in the U.S. -- the Florabama, an establishment which straddles the Florida/Alabama line. Before Ivan came through and ripped apart the building, there was a line painted down the middle of the floor showing where the state line passed. It was amazing, you could drink in two states at the same time.
In the Florabama you hear a lot of Southern. On a recent Saturday night, the band was playing -- loudly. A woman came up to me and said, “Scuse me, do y’all have a ‘pin’?” Thinking she had broken a strap or lost a button, I had to say “Sorry, no.”
She went down to my sister-in-law, who has lived in the South for more than 30 years, and asked her the same question. She reached into her purse and handed the woman the PEN she had been seeking. Turns out she wanted to write down her phone number for a guy she met that evening at the bar. Now, if she had just asked for paper and a “pin,” I might have been able to figure it out.
It’s interesting all the differences in a common language. When my husband and I were in Mexico a few years ago, we met a couple from the British Isles. He asked my husband if he wanted to play golf the next day and my husband, not sure of the skill level of the other man, told him that he would love to, but he wasn’t that good. The other man replied, “Don’t worry, we just play for the ‘crack.’”
Our eyebrows went up a bit on that comment, but it turns out that crack just means friendship, fun. Boy were we relieved.
I’m sure people down South and in England have some comments about the way we talk, too.

Getting a jump on shopping

noreply@blogger.com (Phyllis R) — Tue, 09 Oct 2007 15:57:00 +0000

If you ask me, it’s a little early to start Christmas shopping, but I’m sure some people are almost done.
If there’s still room in your shopping cart for a few select items, the recently released Neiman Marcus Christmas catalog might be a good place to look.
-- For only $35,000 you can have a dragon topiary in your yard.
-- A cell phone studded with pink and white diamonds will cost $73,000.
-- A portrait of you and your favorite person made from chocolate syrup will run $110,000.
-- A two-person submarine capable of diving to 1,000 feet costs $1,440,000. By the way, it comes with a “comprehensive” two-day training program (I sure would feel safe 1,000 feet below the water after two days of training!)
-- For $1,590,000, the Kirov Orchestra will perform three pieces for you and 499 of your closest friends. You even get to keep the autographed piano.
-- And, on top of the price list, you can get 10 acres of land in Montana for a mere $2.3 million. Quite a bargain when you consider it includes part of a nature preserve and a private dinner and entertainment.
So, dig deep into your pockets and under the cushions of the couch for that loose change. You’re going to need it.