Saturday, May 24, 2003
DANDY GREENS
No too many years ago, the city of Vineland, NJ laid claim to being "The Dandelion Capital of the World" They qualified it by saying they raise more dandelions to be "“used as salad greens "than any spot on Earth!
I have, on several occasions when both front and backyard here became dandelion infested, I have been tempted to challenge that claim. But, we were not raising them primarily as salad greens - so the argument would have fallen flat anyway.
The truth is people do eat the things!
I have done so, but I can cite to a number of materials I had much rather have as my salad greens. It was not unusual for people to eat them during the years of the Great Depression of the Hoover-FDR years until WWII came along and zapped the recession. We ate more dry-land salad, or dry land cress as it was called, than dandelion greens because, they to, were plentiful in our area and much tastier as well as being easier to prepare.
I remember one dire situation in which I found myself in relation to this tiny, yellow flower. I was a visitor in the home of a family who had just recently moved to Virginia from Philadelphia. I did not realize it at the time of my visit, but they had just discovered that the dandelion were edible. They were very much “into” the dandelion routine. Being new at the fad, and ad-libbing freely in their enthusiasm, I found. They consumed the entire plant except the root portion. We, as a rule, dispensed with the flowers other than to see what one “tasted like” which usually made the final decision for you. They filled bowls with dandelion greens from their front yard and lathered on dressings of various sorts, to create a tastier treat. I accepted the salad offered and accepted as well, a smattering of sauce over it. I hesitated at one point when I saw a tiny, fat worm in mine busily engaged in getting his share. I folded a leaf over his plump little self and pretended he wasn't there. I survived. The fate of the worm sauce-smeared worm has not bothered me, but I do remember that moment when I was called upon to make a social decision. I felt I could not cause any disruption of the family's joyous celebration of their discovery of a totally new food and a food which was "“free"as well!
Dandelion wine used to be a favorite home-remedy for what ever ailed a person. There were also recipes for stewing pork in a bed of dandelion greens; others ground and plant into a form of coffee drink; some stewed the leaves for a laxative and remedial tea brew.
/ It is said to be a “storehouse of nutrients”. They are an excellent source of Vitamin A, some B and they contain proteins, calcium, iron, sodium, phosphorus and a some Vitamin C and potassium. They are very low in calories. Many people say a bit of dandelion is a good way to ruin scrambled egg, soups, sausage stuffing, fritters and even gelatin treats ....while others praise such ventures into the unknown, or say they do.
There are dozen more othe"“weeds"which can be eaten the same way, but I have avoided the ones which are sometimes said to be "uinsafe" unless skillfully gathered. I avoid them until I learn which types are toxic and which are safe. I've eaten chickweed, wood sorrel,, watercress, lamb's quarters but I've avoided nettles, common plantain, poke weed, and shepherd's purse. In England people have been known to brew a dandelion beer.
I am not searching seriously, I will admit. Dandelions look better on a lawn than on a menu.
A.L.M. May 23, 2003 [c993wds]
Friday, May 23, 2003
THE POLO TRIO
Being chronically nosey, I have long been among those who wondered from time-to-time how the famed Marco Polo got along so well on the road without credit cards - without plastics of any kind. Think about it. Primitive living. Not even colorful pieces pressed into neat, little cards with numbers on them.
Marco was a keen and accurate observe in this time. Whatever late innovations which might have been available in his time, he surely used to his advantage. We actually know more about Marco Polo’ s travels because records were kept detailed records of his travels.
Those records need some clarification, however. Marco was a lad of barely seventeen. He was more of a favored guest. Two other members of the group were merchant-nobleman-rich Nicollo Polo, Marco's Father and his well-established Uncle Maffeo Polo, his dad's brother. Both were old timers on the Silk Road. Both had been to China and back to Venice before - in 1260 or so. Each had become rich and famous; envied, perhaps, but not exactly seen as men telling the truth about their visits with and their peaceful meetings with Genghis Kahn. These three - Niccolo, Maffeo and Marco left Venice for a trip which would last twenty five years. Records, as far as I have read, do not say who stayed at home to keep the mansion fires going.
No “wish you were here cards” were sent along the way,” it seems, and after a complex trip to China the people of Venice were surprised to see them home one day a quarter of a century later - two old men and one one of about fifty – the ex-boy Marco, all wearing strange oriental clothing.
Once again the people of Venice took their tales to be more entertainment material and little else. The leading commercial city the West did not realize that the cartography of the world had been drastically modified. The Venetians were the best traveled people of their time and ,yet, it was beyond their ability to comprehend what the explorations of the Polo people meant to civilization as a whole.
Today, are we aware of travelers of our time are saying? Are we aware of the vast changes which have mutated our future since men have traveled to the Moon and to some other place in space? Have we truly listened what such travelers say? The authorities of ancient Venice could not understand what the Polos said they found in China. Do we ask the right questions of those who, today, are traveling in Eastern nations and in China? Are we interpreting what we do hear wisely? Or, are we misled at times, by subtle narrowness and prejudices?
Marco Polo was an “also ran” in a sense, and, while his contributions were worthy. we have, perhaps, overlooked, as did the Venetians, the informational treasures available form Nicollo and Maffeo. They must have spoken of the fantastic wealth of the Orient ...but were not believed... ignored by Venice merchant. Marco laid it on thicker it seems with the PR people of his time and gets credited with various things the other Polos actually may have done.
Are we talking with and listening to the right people today? If we are asking questions and seeking only those answers which we see as Truth, we could be in big trouble.
A.L.M. May 22, 2003 [c894wds]
Thursday, May 22, 2003
MR.ROOP'S "HORSE"
Every Saturday morning, during spring and summer months, we kids knew Mr. Roop would be coming up our street bringing us produce from his farm.
He drove a neat horse and buggy rig and kept us supplied with all sorts of garden-grown produce, as well as chickens from time to time.
Most unusual for us was the fact that he called his horse "Horse"
"Horse" usually showed up around 9:30 depending on weather conditions up river from us. A little rain didn't stop them and he said Horse was part goose anyway. She was the only horse I ever knew who giggled - a tremulous, little neigh of approval and seeming joyfulness when he saw us run out to meet them. Heavy snow, downpour storms with high wind and deep freezes, meant they would not travel. Not that they felt in bad to cope with the weather at its worst, but the ferry they used to cross New River would not be operating if the river was too high or the wind too fierce, of if flakes and ice flew to plentifully anything that might pose a hazard for Horse Mr. Roop and Horse were good friends of long standing. They looked after each other at all times. There were blankets under the buggy seat - one for “Horse” and the other for Mr. Roop if the weather turned foul.
Mr. Roop, called his horse “Horse”; his dog was called “Dog” and he kept it that way because, as he told us one time, the love they held for each other piled up when a friend had to be replaced. “They seemed to like it that way,”Mr. Roop told us. “Leastways, I never had no complaints.” I found out later that he had “used up” two “Horses” and three “Dogs” since starting the naming system when reference was made it Dog-2 in conversation.
I never knew if Mr. Roop had any other customers. He sold all his produced to a friendly grocer downtown, but he always gave us “first crack at“ whatever he had on board any Saturday morning he came to town.
We always felt we had been privileged to have him call on us when he came to town and we enjoyed many good meals of farm fresh vegetables, fruits and other farm treats such as chicken, an occasional duck and sausage or side-meat as available. They had a long drive from Snowville,Virginia down to a settlement called Newbern, so named by its original Swiss settlers. He crossed the wide, fast-flowing New River at Ingles's Ferry, a three-car or two-wagon cable-connected flatboat poled across the stream by one man walking the edge of the craft and making use of the fast currents to speed the crossing. Once on the other shore, our town was five miles long, and we lived half way through it.
There came a time when Mr. Roop and Horse could no longer take such a trip. We missed seeing them ...Mr. Roop ...Horse and, occasionally, Dog , but we have good memories of them having been part of our growing-up years.
A.L.M. May 19, 2003 [c804wds]
Wednesday, May 21, 2003
WHA' HAPPEN'?
It is always good to read stories in the media concerning he development on new ways in which we may live more securely, more conveniently and more economically.
I came across a clipping in my old files from the Washington POST for Sunday, July 21, 1991 which makes the point that concerns me.
A small power plant serving the Sterling, CN area, was lauded for having discovered a way to cash in on some “Black Gold” to generate electric energy for the area. The unusual step was the fact that during the year they would burn - ten million used vehicle tires per year.
Environmentalist figures at that time were quoted as saying we had a 3 billion used tires stock piled around the country and that stock was growing by 280 million tires per year.
Tires have more energy content than coal. The same firm, certain that this change would prosper, had already invested one hundred million to construct a new power plant in Santa Rosa, CA which was, even then, was burning tires at a rate of 27,000 per day. That plant had been inspected at least once each week to meet pollution standards of the area and had never been closed down for air quality reasons.
Each tire is said to have an average of 2.5 gallons of oil in its structure which give it a thermal output of 13,552, said to be well above a comparable amount of coal. In 1989 annual report of the company owning these energy production plants anticipated using 70 million tires annually by 1995, which was about twenty-five percent of the stock then being accumulated..
Whatever became of these plants? Are they still in operation or have they fallen by the wayside for some reason? The tires are still with us in growing abundance. Some are being ground to use as road building materials, but that sort of use does not compare with the volume needed by the power plants built to use them to everyones advantage.
Wha' happen? Was the news story flawed? Has environmentalist fervor caused the demise of a seemingly worthy venture? It would seem wise for control authorities to take a closer look at what became of this plan to provide needed electrical energy while eliminating the scourge of used tires on our national landscape.
A.L.M. May 18, 2003 [c593wds]
Tuesday, May 20, 2003
FRAGMENT
“A single, monstrous wave has taken the bridge out completely. It is no longer there. Only the black pylons remain as ominous blobs of darkness within the swirling mass of water and wind.
We can no longer even think of making it to the mainland.
We must return to the hillside cave, hunker down, and await the end of the storm. The fight has gone out of us, with the bridge gone. That was the center of our possible survival. Instead we shall protect ourselves as much as possible as we work our way back up the slope to the relative security of the small cave. Beyond being there, we can plan for nothing else.
Many men, I find, can sleep, even during time such as this.
Not I. I nod, of course, but sleep does not come. Instead I sit here huddled against the wind and rain and, in my mind, string together the these thoughts of and for - even to you, almost as if I believed that, in the mere thinking of such things, I could transmit my thoughts, my love and my great need of your presence with me across the dark forbidding miles In a type of frustration, I find myself transforming my thoughts into Morse Code and tapping it all out on my knee which gives me a connective touch with you in a vague sense.”
Update.
I actually wrote those words June 11, 1988, and I was surprised to find as I re-read in almost-June of 2003 I was not doing fiction writing at all.
They were part of a seemingly confused time in my life which I no longer remember, when I realized anew how important it was a to maintain contact with others at all times It may have been notes from a dream, I don't recall. I do know and realize anew each day that, with the misfortunes which seem to haunt us today , it seems wise to considered how well off we really are whatever occurs. It is good to give serious consideration to the worst case scenarios which are so often placed before us.
We are disturbed by continuing patterns of suicide bombings in many areas and dread such occurrences regardless of where they take place. We think of such actions as being needlessly cruel, and demeaning to all who subscribe to such cowardly thinking. We think of ourselves as being a cut above such low standards of evaluation of human life and work toward period of enlightenment for all.
We have not chosen an easy road. There will be times of marked despair and we must prepare in advance for such moments. When our bridges to security are swept away, we must look to each other and make full use of the bridges we have to one another in love, admiration, respect and honor.
A.L.M. May 18 2003 [c730wds]
Monday, May 19, 2003
TEMPORARY PSYCHIC
Try this little stunt the next time you find yourself with absolutely nothing whatever to do.
Be your own crystal gazer; your own psycho adviser person or fortune teller and see things you've never seen before ...well, maybe.
It's kid's stuff on surface, .but it can be interesting to older kids as well ...even puzzling.
To begin: take a clean, clear water glass . Fill it with water almost to the brim and place it on a low table before you. Seat yourself comfortably on a chair so that you can look directly down into the contents of the glass from above. You are now ready. All you have to do is relax – refrain from movement of yourself or of the table. Now - look - stare, intently into the surface of the water.
You may have wondered what it might be fortune tellers feign to see or actually do see, in the crystal ball they use. You are now doing it. Make no attempt to adjust any lighting. If you see nothing - change to a different area more alive with light reflections.
Case #1: I saw along corridor which appeared to be flowing away from me in deep, sharper than normal perspective. The floor was hardwood strips. I had a feeling it was evening or night time. To the right was a series of long windows, curtained in white, long and slim extending almost to the floor along a full length hallway toward an existing light area. Ahead was a more intense light - tinted yellow. Ahead in a doorway, in that yellowish glow of light, a thin girl stood in the doorway and seemed to be removing a heavy, knit sweater and re-arranging her tousled, brown hair,which was exceptionally long. I could not see the person to whom she was talking, only a shadow passing the doorway now and then. I did not know the girl. She just stood there talking to someone and did not notice me at all. She she did not acknowledge my being there. I went on down the hall.
Case #2: utter darkness in the water to start with and a light developed in the foreground and divided into two sections - upper and lower to show me the inside of a church. It could have been the church we attend but larger and more ornate. I realized I was seated above and behind organ pipes. I was look sing between them into the sanctuary, the high pulpit ahead of me and I suddenly realized the organ pipes, installed along the edge of the balcony were moving. I discovered, too, they were silver on the outside and, as one could see at the slots, they were gold inside. I was alone. The organ was not playing. There was no sound. It had a fuzzy, dreamlike quality about it all and I wondered about the pipes being gold on the inside and why they were in motion as they were like the long neon signs on buildings which spell out the news headlines. They were not all vertical, either, I found. A few leaned over the edge of the balcony and I felt they needed repair right away.
Case #3 same session : Longer than the others. Nothing developed after several tries. Uneasy in my mind. I should be doing something else. Inability to concentrate on not thinking which is essential. I did see a dark area with the expanse ...like a darkened TV screen - an entire cube and some flickering gray bands at times.
I decided to give it all up. Wisely, too, perhaps. We psychic tire easily. It's hard work keeping your mind blank on purpose for a a twenty minute session.
Compare your notes with others who have done the same thing but do not like to admit having tried such a stupid stunt. Just imagine , however, what such trivial trial must have meant to man kind over the centuries. Oracle ...prophet ....fortune teller... you can be all of them yourself!
You may think this to be silly, but it makes a great deal of séance to a good many people.
A.L.M. May 18, 2003 [c1056wds]
Sunday, May 18, 2003
END START
The end of anything can be the beginning of something better.
I can't go along entirely with the idea that everything must end, because it is obvious that some things do not terminate even when - or especially when - it appears they have done so. Some situations hang on in an altered guise, perhaps, to continue to affect our lives, of others about us and the lives stemming from us. That has something to do with the man's concept of “Hell", I , at times, suspect.
We live in an era of amazing contradictions as is. We kill thousands of our kind attempting to go faster in various systems of motion; we are careless in many matters of public concern, and we engage in wars and individual strife which are admittedly harmful. At the same time we develop medical marvels and find new and better ways to restore the human body as it is imperiled by disease, accident, poor diet, or plain old age, overuse and mis-use.
A war has just “ended”, but we don't really believe that, do we? The war continues, in a mutated form. It has different name, a different focus, perhaps, which exists with a slightly different texture and style. War is one of those things which never truly never ends. We make false plans for ideal associations in those times when the scourge of war seems to have departed. The basic causes remain in so many cases and they pop up now and again at the slightest instigation.
We, as individuals, face up to certain times in our lives when we experience genuine"“endings". They may come in the form of blessings or tragic loss but is those times of change that we find we can, indeed, start over once more an build a worthy life with values we admire and cherish for ourselves and for others about us.
We learn to look for new beginnings when such an event strikes our lives. What kid has not looked forward to the end of the formal school year? They do so in anticipation of dreams of summer-time freedom and enjoyment in the vast, unexperienced world of interesting things ahead. The very same child, sixty days or so later, plans for the beginning of a new school year with friends and the opportunity to do things ...ever learn something along the way.
Education, as well, then, is something which doesn't really end.
Whatever you are doing today determines what you will be doing tomorrow. That which occupies the mind at any given moment, often determines what our actions may well be. To be sure of a worthy future,learn how to put a genuine end to those elements in our life which have been working against your well being.
Work with the challenge of possible change in your life. Put an end to that which is hurting you. If you do not do so, you are merely extending your problem under a new disguise. Good, clean, clear endings make new beginnings possible.
A.L.M. May 17, 2003 [c801wds].
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