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Archive for the ‘up close & personal’ Category

If you’ll allow me a moment of personal giddishness. FINALLY,
we have snow! In the air and on the ground! I took a walk
in it earlier this evening. It’s a dry, light ‘n powdery snow, no
good for making snowballs, but perfect for walking. I thoroughly
enjoyed hearing it crunch beneath my feet. It was absolutely
awesome! HUZZAH!

Walking in a winter wonderland:

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May it be a fantastic year for you and yours. HUZZAH!

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And from the fireworks shot out over Prospect Park,
Brooklyn, NY, at midnight January 1, 2013. Far out!
(I’d also post a short video of the end of the firework
show, but WP won’t let me. Oh, well….)

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A lovely tribute for a horrid day:

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It’s been six years, and though time
marches on, my heart tends to cling
to the past. You see, on this very day
in 2006, my beloved furry friend, my
“cat-companion,” passed away. Yes,
I have another, and she’s a sweetie
who keeps me company, but it’s just
not the same. I guess it was a type
of “first love” with the my previous
buddy: he’s the one I’ll never forget.

In any event, as today is the anniversary of his passing, once
again, I offer the following remembrance. It’s the same as last
year’s, with minor updates; I can’t improve on it.

___________________________________

IN MEMORIAM

Twenty-some years ago, when I was living in Indianapolis, Indiana,
I discovered a stray cat sleeping now and then in an unused dog
house in my back yard. As time went on, I saw him more frequently,
and I began to set out some food. Occasionally, I’d come home
from work, and there he’d be out on the patio. At first, I’d let him
in, he’d casually walk around the room, and then head back out.

sc001ab8d7

Slowly but surely, he became
a regular visitor. Eventually,
he’d come inside, eat, take
a nap on my couch, and then
go back out. Soon we became
a team. He seemed to always
know when I had just gotten
home, for he’d show up
within minutes. Other times,
if I didn’t see him right away,
I would soon hear him. There’d
be meowing coming from one
direction or another, and all
I had to do was meow back,
and he’d come running. There
were many times when I came
home, and he’d be at the patio
door, waiting patiently to come in. And if I’d just had a long hard day,
I’d lie on the floor, he’d sit sphinx-like on my chest, and we’d have
ourselves a little cat nap. Before long, I’d come home, let him in,
and he’d stay until the next morning, when I’d be awakened by his
meowing to be let out. As cats go, it was a match made in heaven.

When I moved to New York, he came with me. On the plane, in the cabin.
In fact, during the next several years, whenever I’d go back and forth
to Indianapolis, he went with me. He didn’t mind flying. I’m sure being
in that cramped carrier, “placed under the seat in front” of me per airline
regulations wasn’t the greatest, but he knew that I was right there.
Several times I took him out (unbeknownst to the flight attendants,
of course), and he’d quietly and calmly sat in my lap. He’d even look
out the window. Like I said, we were a team.

In any event, to make this long story short…the point of all this is that,
six years ago today (July 28) my beloved pal, this dearly-loved magnificent
cat, who had essentially adopted me, passed away. He’d never been sick
a day in his life, yet suddenly he became ill and was gone in no time. It
was devastating.

Kitty-Pooh, 1992-2006

Kitty-Pooh, 1992-2006

Since those early days in Indianapolis,
he had been my constant companion. He
went from being a mostly outdoor cat to
being a completely indoor one. He went
with me from one state to another, and
from one apartment to another and then
another. There was even that short time
spent in Jersey (what I refer to as my
homeless period). He was there as I
navigated the trials and tribulations of
life in the Big Bad City. Not to mention
all the ups and downs of pursuing an
acting career. He was there, too, when
my parents passed, first one, then the
other. And the loss of my beloved dog,
Casey. In short, for nearly 14 years he
was the one constant in my life.

And so, this is in honor of my beloved pal.
You were the bestest cat I could ever hope for. My handsome fella.
My gift from God. You are dearly loved and dearly missed.

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Happy New Year! May it be a great one for all.
For my part, I promise to get back to writing
here more often!

And now, a few fireworks courtesy of the folks
at Prospect Park here in Brooklyn:

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It’s CHRISTMAS!! HUZZAH!

More than two decades ago (1987), the lovely Julie Andrews
did a Christmas special in Austria with several of my favorite
performers: John Denver; Placido Domingo; and The Kings
Singers. Titled “The Sound of Christmas,” it was filmed at
many of the same locations that were used in the making
of one of my all-time favorite movies, “The Sound of Music.”
She even sang atop the same mountain (which was covered
in snow this round)! Ahh, it was great fun to watch, to see
it all, again (the von Trapp house, the convents, the church
where Maria and the Captain were married, the streets
of Salzburg, etc.).

Of course, at the time of the initial airing, I taped the show
(on a VHS cassette, don’t you know!), and then at this time
every year since, I’ve pulled it out and watched it yet again
(and yes, I STILL have a VCR!). I simply love it. (And those
old commercials are a hoot and a half!)

I figured the best way to share some of it with you was
to find (hopefully) a few clips on youtube. I did, but many
were either too short or too long or had someone’s name
written across the screen or whatever. And then I had
to choose. dagnabit. I’d tape my copy, but am not sure
that’d work too well. In any event, here’s one favorite,
featuring Julie’s now-gone marvelous voice. I hope you
enjoy it as much as I do, each and every year! HUZZAH!

Wishing one and all a very Merry Christmas!

______________________________

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Lately there have been alot of people here in NYC commenting
about their remembrances of the events that took place on this
day ten years ago. Of course, I vividly recall that day, as well,
not so much for what took place, but for what came after. You
see, I slept through it all. Yep, I had an appointment later that
afternoon, so I’d planned to, and did, sleep in. I didn’t have
a clue as to what was going on, or had gone on, until a friend
from Indiana phoned to check on me. At first, I was puzzled;
why was she calling? And at this specific time of day? After
a few innocuous pleasantries, and then a brief pause, she
finally asked what I knew.

“Um, know about what?”
“The attacks.”
“Attacks? What attacks?”
“On the World Trade Center. The Towers have been destroyed.”
“No. What?! When? How can that…what?!?!”

I turned on the TV, to the one still-broadcasting station, and saw
again and again, that black cut-out of a plane hit the tower. And
then, all the rest. I know it sounds trite, but it did, it looked just
like some wild action movie.

So I went outside, walked a few blocks down to Flatbush Avenue
in my neighborhood, turned, and walked towards Manhattan. Oh,
it was such a glorious day! Not a cloud in the clear blue sky. The
street was empty, not a car in sight. Then, as I walked, I was met
by people going in the opposite direction. Hoards of people. I walked
all the way down to the foot of the Manhattan Bridge, where I saw
what can only be described as a sea of humanity walking across
and into Brooklyn. Just hoards. Some were barefoot and carrying
their shoes, others had towels or handkerchiefs on their heads,
most had looks of shock, confusion, and utter horror written on
their faces. I looked in the direction of the Towers, and there I
saw it, a long plume of thick black smoke. And no Towers. The
world had somehow gone insane. It was all so surreal. And it
sometimes still is.

I didn’t know anyone who was killed that day. Nor do I know
anyone who knew someone. Even so, the grief was palpable
in the days, weeks, and even months following. It was heart-
breaking, gut-wrenching, and at times, overwhelming. I just
can’t imagine.

And so, in honor of those who lost their lives on September 11
ten years ago, I re-post this heartfelt, tear-inducing commercial.

May God bless.

____________________

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Year number five. And it’s no easier. Yes,
it’s hard to believe another has gone by;
another year without my dearly beloved
cat-companion, Kitty-Pooh. Yes, I have
Mystery-Kitty now, and although she’s
a sweetie and we’re bonding more each
day, it’s just not the same. I guess it was
sort of like a first love with me and K-P:
he’s the one I’ll never forget.

In any event, today is the anniversary, once again, of my beloved
pet’s passing. I considered writing something new, but I think this
piece says it all; I can’t improve on it. Although minor updating has
been done, it’s essentially the same as last year’s tribute.

___________________________________

IN MEMORIAM

Nineteen years ago, when I was living in Indianapolis, Indiana,
I discovered a stray cat sleeping now and then in an unused dog
house in my back yard. As time went on, I saw him more frequently,
and I began to set out some food. Occasionally, I’d come home
from work, and there he’d be out on the patio. At first, I’d let him
in, he’d casually walk around the room, and then head back out.

sc001ab8d7

Slowly but surely, he became
a regular visitor. Eventually,
he’d come inside, eat, take
a nap on my couch, and then
go back out. Soon we became
a team. He seemed to always
know when I had just gotten
home, for he’d show up
within minutes. Other times,
if I didn’t see him right away,
I would soon hear him. There’d
be meowing coming from one
direction or another, and all
I had to do was meow back,
and he’d come running. There
were many times when I came
home, and he’d be at the patio
door, waiting patiently to come in. And if I’d just had a long hard day,
I’d lie on the floor, he’d sit sphinx-like on my chest, and we’d have
ourselves a little cat nap. Before long, I’d come home, let him in,
and he’d stay until the next morning, when I’d be awakened by his
meowing to be let out. As cats go, it was a match made in heaven.

When I moved to New York, he came with me. On the plane, in the cabin.
In fact, during the next several years, whenever I’d go back and forth
to Indianapolis, he went with me. He didn’t mind flying. I’m sure being
in that cramped carrier, “placed under the seat in front” of me per airline
regulations wasn’t the greatest, but he knew that I was right there. Several
times I took him out (unbeknownst to the flight attendants, of course),
and he quietly and calmly sat in my lap. He’d even look out the window.
Like I said, we were a team.

In any event, to make this long story short…the point of all this is that,
five years ago today (July 28) my beloved pal, this dearly loved magnificent
cat, who had essentially adopted me, passed away. He’d never been sick a day
in his life, yet suddenly he became ill and was gone in no time.
It was devastating.

Kitty-Pooh, 1992-2006

Kitty-Pooh, 1992-2006

Since those early days in Indianapolis, he
had been my constant companion. He went
from being a mostly outdoor cat to being
a completely indoor one. He went with me
from one state to another, and from one
apartment to another and then another.
There was even that short time spent
in Jersey (what I refer to as my homeless
period). He was there as I navigated
the trials and tribulations of life in
the Big Bad City. Not to mention all
the ups and downs of pursuing an acting
career. He was there, too, when my parents
passed, first one, then the other. And the
loss of my beloved dog, Casey. In short,
for nearly 14 years he was the one constant in my life.

And so, this is in honor of my beloved pal.
You were the bestest cat I could ever hope for. My handsome fella.
My gift from God. You are dearly loved and dearly missed.

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Awhile back, I added a link to a collection of my favorite
videos (you’ll find it on my Home Page). Of course, some
are historic food related, some are not. Here is one of my
favorite “nots.”

Hope everyone has a fantastic Independence Day!
HUZZAH!

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First of all, I want to mention two things: with this post, I’ve hit yet
another blogging benchmark, for this is Entry Number 300; and, I’ve
been writing here now for nearly TWO years. HUZZAH!

More importantly, however, is the fact that, 20 years ago today,
April 3, 1991, I started working as an interpreter at (what was
then known as) Conner Prairie Museum (CP) in central Indiana. Yep,
if not for that fateful day, and the years that immediately followed,
this little blog would not exist. For it was at CP that my passion for
open hearth cooking, historic foodways, and culinary history was
born. My years at CP began oddly, and ended even more strangely,
but in general, it was some of the best years of my life. And overall,

that experience has served me well in years since. From the training
I received to the knowledge I gained to the nigh daily opportunities
to put it all into practice (and in front of hundreds of people, mind
you!), it is the basis of everything I’ve done with regard to open
hearth cookery during the past six years (and counting!). I’ve
certainly not only put it all to good use, but I’ve also made many
additions to, and expanded on, that experience, first at Lefferts
Historic House
and now at Wyckoff and The Israel Crane House.
My years at Conner Prairie gave birth to my current passion for
food history and hearth cookery. It was definitely time well spent.

____________________

The newspaper ad that started it all (eegad, I still have it?!):

Of course, I was familiar with Conner Prairie. I’d been there often
with school, camp, and other assorted groups. I’d always wanted
to work there, to wear the clothing and to pretend it was another
day and time. In short, I was drawn to the acting side of it. And
I tell you, after spending a few years “playing” in the 1836 Village
and then doing numerous acting gigs here in the Big Bad City, it
was most definitely THE best damn acting job I’ve ever had.
HUZZAH!

As to the headline in the above ad…funny thing is, I can remember
a couple of fellow interpreters complaining that those burger flippers
at McDonald’s and Burger King earned more per hour than we did.
Ahhh, well, but they didn’t get to do it over an open fire!

_______________

Here I am, just before my first day of working in the 1836 Village,
which, strangely enough, wasn’t until the end of July. Yep, I had
to spend nearly FOUR months NOT being in the Village. Something
about my working “only part-time.” Huh?!? What about those other
people who are “only” part-timers?!? Or the fact that your ad says,
specifically, “part-time job”?!? WTF…? It was absolutely, positively,
unbelievably wacko. I still don’t understand why I was treated
differently. Ahh, well…so it goes. Nevertheless, I was finally “in,”
and I was more than ready for some REAL “historic” play, er, work,
in a “loaner” outfit (sans apron) from the Museum’s Costume Shop:

The first character I portrayed was Abigail Bucher, the hired girl at
Dr. Campbell’s. It was my introduction to early 19th century cooking,
albeit on a cast iron cookstove and not at the hearth; this is where
I was first introduced to both The American Frugal Housewife and
The Kentucky Housewife, books I still use frequently today:

_______________

Now, we had to make all our own 1836 clothing. My first complete
outfit was made by another interpreter, but it was, um, well, a bit
odd and ill-fitting in places. So I figured I could do it better myself.
And once I started, I couldn’t stop! I ended up making three more
work dresses and numerous aprons and daycaps. I also branched
out by tackling several “non-required,” and sometimes challenging,
items such as a quilted sunbonnet, a winter lower-class bonnet,
an early 19th century shortgown, and a full-length cape. AND,
I became an expert at piping. Love, loved, LOVED inserting piping
any and every where I could. I was the Queen of Piping. HUZZAH!

_______________

Ada Noreen McClure, daughter of the town’s carpenter, was my second
character. NOW, it was finally time for cooking at the hearth:

By the way, that’s my niece, one Kelly Capehart, standing next to me.
She’ll soon graduate from Vassar College. Lordy, how time flies!

_______________

Then it was on to Lucinda Baker, wife of Isaac Baker, one of the three
(then-called) Baker brothers, all of whom were potters. Sadly, the one-
room cabin in the photo below is no more. First, it was greatly altered,
and then, eventually, it was torn down. What a travesty. I spent many
days happily “being” Lucinda and talking to folks while cooking outside
under the canopy of trees. HUZZAH!

_______________

I played several other characters, as well, ranging from Patience
Higbee to the younger Mrs. Whitaker to Laura Moore and so on.
I must say, however, that my favorites were anyone who cooked
and those who were members of the “lower” classes. Now, a few
of my fellow interpreters found the latter quite interesting. In fact,
when I was Lucinda, who was pretty low on the proverbial totem
pole, one of them used to voice her amazement at how someone
with a Master’s degree (me) did such a great job playing a lowly
character. (Hint: it’s called “acting”!)

Certainly, one of the highlights of working at Conner Prairie was
being given the opportunity to participate in the numerous special
programs. Candlelight, Maple Sugaring, Hearthside Suppers, and
others, to be sure, but also: being the “bride” (twice, to two different
guys!) in the 1836 wedding (kissie-kissie!); becoming “saved” when
the Camp Meetin’ came to town; assisting with pottery kiln firings;
cooking up scrapple during butchering; dancing with “my man Isaac”
during the Independence Day celebrations…. OH! the list goes on and
on. I even thoroughly enjoyed talking to all the visitors. In fact, I’m
sure some would say I never shut up! But I just loved sharing the who,
what, when, and why of whatever it was that I was doing. And all the
training that was offered, in a variety of different topics. I went to every
session offered, whether it applied to me or not. I was eager to learn as
much as I could. Then there was the working with a great group of people
(for the most part), day in and day out. I made alot of wonderful friends.
Golly, what other job offers up such amenities?!? I know of none. It was
simply pure joy to work in such a unique environment.

_______________

My sewing sampler, containing a specified assortment of different
stitches and such. Doing this and “passing” (which I did) enabled
me to sew out on the historic grounds. A similar “test,” along with
some reading, was required for knitting:

_______________

Well, I could go on, but I won’t bore you any further. I will, however,
add that I often miss playing in the 1836 Village at Conner Prairie. I
miss all that hustle ‘n bustle. And the people; luckily, I’m still in touch
with a few. It was all great fun. Yet, I firmly believe that I was there
during some of the Museum’s best years. Sadly, things have greatly
changed, and not necessarily for the better. It’s far from the place
I knew and loved, that’s for sure. And in many ways, I’m doing more
now of what CP used to be, at the historic sites where I do hearth
cooking. In any case, life goes on, I’ve moved ahead, and I have
wonderful, lasting memories that I will always treasure. HUZZAH!

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