Gardening has long been a struggle for me

For the past 20 years of living in Arkansas, I have dreamed of a bountiful harvest. Every year, I begin with more optimism than anyone could ever hope to muster. In fact, from the time the leaves start to fall from the trees, I am stricken with Spring Fever, anxiously awaiting the coming of spring, my very favorite time of the year.

From reading a lifetime of gardening magazines, watching You Tube videos and television programs, trying plants and cuttings from friends, and having pretty good success with house plants, I have really tried to grow pretty flowers and tasty vegetables, but with little success.

I have planted beautiful gardens only to have them produce few flowers and even less vegetables. I’ve planted spring bulbs, perennials that never show up after the first year, and annual flower seeds that never get more than a few pair of true leaves. Something always happens along the way. Animals are a big problem. The deer, which I love to watch, like to eat nearly everything I plant. They are brazen, like the deer I saw on my front porch munching on a pot of petunias. Raccoons, squirrels, and armadillos, not to mention the three stray cats that have adopted me, dig up tulip bulbs, hyacinths, lilies, etc.

I’ve tried composting all my kitchen scraps. I never understood why they seemed to break down so quickly until one day I looked out the window and saw a family of foxes munching on a cantaloupe rind. I still compost sometimes, but realize I will never be making dirt. Admittedly, I think I’d rather give in to buying compost and still feed the foxes. I love watching them.

I’ve learned that soil is a problem, so additives are always necessary. The many trees have taken most of the nutrients out of the soil. And, of course, there are too many rocks. Trees block out sunshine that just the year before was not a problem. Too little rain…On and on, there is always something. I’ve tried to remedy each problem as it came up.

This year, as always, I will anticipate that first mouth-watering tomato from my own backyard.

As previously mentioned in another post, I took a trip at the end of March to celebrate my mother’s 95^th birthday. I had a wonderful time, but was anxious to get back to planning my garden. Then I got sick, some sort of a stomach bug. It seemed to last longer than it should. I just wasn’t bouncing back as quickly as I’d wanted to. But once the antibiotics were out of my system and I finally did get a little energy, my enthusiasm came roaring back.

I had lots of yard work to do, but I was ready. Outside chores had really suffered during my late husband’s illness. He died in the spring last year and I didn’t even give the garden a thought. But this year, I was bound and determined to get the property looking like there were actual people living here and not just animals playing in the tall grass and weeds. I hired a yard guy, who came once. It just didn’t work out.

So I got to it all myself. While trimming some bushes along the sidewalk, I had my first ever encounter with poison ivy. I knew what it was, and I took precautions. I disposed of my gardening gloves, washed my hands and arms with hot, soapy water, even though I was sure I hadn’t touched it. I put my arms inside a garbage bag as I pulled the plant and turned the bag inside out, careful not to get it anywhere near me.

Well, that didn’t work because my right upper arm was covered with red raised bumps and blisters that itched profusely. I used my favorite essential oils, but had to reapply often. I won’t lie; it was pretty miserable. Finally, after about a week I could stop tearing at my skin. Oh boy, that stuff is nasty. Needless to say I am not a fan of poison ivy. And I thought ticks and chiggers were bad – well they are bad – but this stuff!!!

Once healed, I thought I was in the clear to get outside and start working on the garden. I purchased some tomato and pepper plants, tending to them lovingly until time for planting. Finally, I added several bags of soil to the raised bed my husband made for me years ago and prepared a few pots.

I was pretty excited to get my plants in the ground. But the fates stepped in once again as I came down with a nasty respiratory infection. The last thing on my mind as I breathed with the help of an inhaler, was gardening. Gradually though, I started feeling better and was able to nurture my little garden space.

I finally feel good again. I am anxious to enjoy that first tomato of the season, pictured above.

My hot pepper plants are already producing beautifully and I have eaten a few Black Cherry Tomatoes.

I even had a few phlox that I planted last year put on a pretty show for the first time.

High hopes are in the offing. I got a late start but this might just be the best garden I have ever had, though it is early yet and time will tell.

Admittedly, I think I just got lucky. We had lots of rain at just the right time and temperatures have been great. It is now the end of July and there are lots of flowers on my tomato plants. Even the house plants I bring outside each year are doing well, which makes me pretty happy.

Because this is Arkansas and two crops are possible, I added a few cucumber seeds and squash seeds from last year.

I even planted an herb garden. Things are looking up around here and that makes me very happy.

 

My recent trip was magical

Most people like to travel, often thrilled to get away from it all. I do not; I am a home body. My interests and therefore my life, revolves around things I like to do at home, like quilting, tending to my plants, watching birds, and caring for my cats. Nothing makes me happier than the little comfortable niche I have carved out for myself here in Arkansas where I find joy in the small, simple things. I just like looking out the window. It is beautiful here and the pace is slow.

But recently I decided it was time to go home again, to visit my mother who just turned 95, and to see my son and his family, to bond with my grandkids. Never mind the cost. Never mind the anxiety, fear of flying, reluctance for an old lady to travel alone, not to mention my completely non-existent spirit of adventure. It was time and I recognized that.

Despite years of hearing my loved ones clamoring for me to come home to visit, I was steadfast. I don’t travel. But, like a switch went off in my head, I decided it was time. I even started to get a little bit excited, so I booked a flight to O’Hare Airport. When I told my friends and family I was coming, they probably thought I was kidding and would back out at the last minute. I had no intention of doing that. I had made up my mind. It was just a matter of doing a little planning, making some lists, and getting organized—all things I try not to do—in my carefree, retired life.

The last time I was on vacation was in 1997 when my late husband John, who was getting ready to retire, decided we needed to take a trip to Arkansas to meet up with his friend Paul. Paul’s father lived in Jasper, AR. He rode his motorcycle here and he told us we had to see this place. He almost sounded like a vacation planner when he described the area around Bull Shoals Lake, a place I had never heard of at the time. But we felt it too because we kept coming back year after year until 2005 when we moved here.

I haven’t been on an airplane since 1974, when my mother and I visited my grandmother in San Antonio. Grandma was ill and we knew we would probably never see her again. We are both so glad we made that trip.

This was not just a visit with family and friends, but I am thankful it was that too. For me, this trip was so much more.

I decided I didn’t want to make a 9 hour drive. So, when I decided to fly, I didn’t hesitate. I wanted to land at O’Hare. Thankfully, my son Chris offered to pick me up.

In many ways, aviation has paralleled my life. As a child, I remember O’Hare, housing Air Force personnel before it was a commercial airfield. Chicago’s Midway Airport was then the busiest airport in the world. When I was a little older, my parents moved from Chicago to just a few miles from O’Hare, I watched O’Hare grow as we entered into the jet age. And then as an adult and young mother, I advocated for O’Hare expansion over building a third airport in the cornfields between Beecher and Peotone. John and I lived in Beecher for 28 years where we raised our family.

There was no doubt in my mind that I wanted to land and take off from O’Hare. After 20 years of fighting for it, I have and always will feel a fondness for the place. I was not disappointed. It was an absolute thrill – magical even.

To land at O’Hare and get picked up by one of the people I love most in the world – my son Chris –was a moment I will never forget.

I so enjoyed spending time with Chris, his wife, as well as my two grandkids. They are pretty grown up now and I am just so proud of the people they have become. It warmed my heart to see the love of this family, in their beautiful home and to get a glimpse of the life they live. It was indeed magical. I have missed so much, being so far away, but I believe regrets serve no purpose. These days, I live for the moment, and I will cherish these moments for the rest of my life.

I married into a wonderful family. John’s sisters and brothers-in-law, both named John, are like my own sisters and brothers. And at the same time, they are also friends. Betty and John used to live here in Arkansas, so when she and her husband moved back to Illinois, I thought I would never see them again. I was so touched that they traveled hours from their new home just to see me. Being with them felt like the most natural thing in the world.

I spent an entire day with Jean, John’s other sister. I got to see where she lives and works. It was wonderful to see places I’d only visualized during our phone conversations. Spending time with family during this trip was indeed magical.

It was good to visit my mother, who has never looked her age. She is in decent health and for the most part takes care of herself. Going back to your childhood home always seems smaller than we remember.

Her caregiver is one of my old friends, who for a time was my sister-in-law. I haven’t seen her in probably 40 years. She threw the birthday party for my mother which is the event that set my trip in motion. Just being with Patty again melted away countless years in my mind. I felt like a teenager again. Tell me that isn’t magical!

I was also able to see two of my first cousins and two of their daughters. It has been so many years since we were able to just sit down and talk. No wedding or funeral, just a good time getting together the way we used to when we were kids at family parties put together by Grandma and Grandpa, the glue that held families together back then. Who doesn’t miss those days? We talked about current goings on, but mostly reminisced about the good ole days. The feeling of being a kid again was pure magic.

And then there were two of my dear friends – those people with whom you share such a special bond – one that stands the test of time, people you rely on to help you get through the hard times, the people you tell your secrets to, and share your hopes and dreams with. I haven’t seen Sherri in 30 years, but once we stopped crying and hugging, it was like I saw her yesterday. There is no other way to describe it than pure magic.

One day my friend Michelle, my partner in our battle to fight the State of Illinois’ plan to build a Peotone Airport, came to see me. We worked so well together for so many years. I call her my friend in the foxhole, since we shared such a tumultuous time together, each of us having the other’s back. When we got together, we talked, and laughed, and cried, and hugged as we reminisced about some of the things we did, the places we went, and people we knew. Our relationship was always like magic as we defeated, at least for the last 20 years, the effort to build that unneeded, unwanted airport in the beautiful cornfields near Peotone.

As I traversed those farm fields, I couldn’t help but think about the countless stories I had written for the newspaper, the people who are no longer with us, the busy life I led when I lived there, and how different things are these days. This place was as much a home to me as the place I now live. It was so familiar. And as I thought about it all, more memories came flooding back. I was a part of this community and I left it behind, with no regrets. I love my home in Arkansas, but I will always be connected to my home in Illinois.

And then for the final magical moment of my trip

As I was waiting to board the plane for my flight home, I thought I saw someone I recognized, a friend from Arkansas. I really don’t know lots of people in Arkansas, so what are the odds that I would be in Chicago with a friend from Arkansas. But sure enough, as I got to my seat, there was Heather, one of the first people I got to know here. I couldn’t believe it. We sat next to one another on the flight home. When we got off the plane, her husband John was waiting for her. More hugs ensued.

It really was a magical trip.

You Tube just makes me happy

Howie

I have long been a television aficionado, and have written about my thoughts on the subject often over the years, in this very blog. There are too many posts to mention here, but for anyone who is interested, just type “television” into the search box at right to check them out.

My television viewing began at a very early age--coincidentally--both mine and that of the industry. I remember well, those black and white shows and movies as our family gathered in front of the round screen in the living room to experience what was then a brand new innovation.

I was only about three- or four-years old when my older brother Bobby and I used to visit our grandparents, just next door, to watch “Lassie,” every Sunday night at 6 o’clock. That was our time. My memories are vague about those days, but I’ve heard the stories my mother tells. She said Grandma made us snacks, often popcorn and apples, and sometimes cheese and crackers. Sometimes, there was a rare treat - iced tea and layer cake with coffee-flavored frosting.

The adults in my family always had a pot of coffee brewing. What a perfect way to use the last of what was in the pot. It was, so to speak, the icing on the cake. I don’t often bake these days, but if I make a cake, you can bet the liquid in the frosting is not milk or cream, but coffee. One taste of it, or come to think of it, the very thought of it, always brings me back to Grandma’s kitchen.

While so many details of those days in Grandma and Grandpa’s house are sketchy, I’ve seen “Lassie” many times in reruns over the years. I loved that show. There was always a lesson to be learned, family was the most important thing, and I was smitten with the way Jeff and later Timmy bonded with what I’ve always believed was the most beautiful dog I’d ever seen.

Lassie was portrayed as a hero, a friend, a loving companion, and the adult in me would have to add, well-behaved and smart.

That show has been so imprinted on me that several years ago I had the occasion to buy a Collie, one that looked just like Lassie. We named him Howie. That’s him, top right, and I swear he was the best dog I’ve ever known.

Today I’m a cat person, but if there was a sable-colored, rough-coat Collie that needed a home, the cats and I would make room without a second thought.

Watch on You Tube

“Lassie” and so many other vintage programs and videos that take me all the way back to the early days of my life can be seen on You Tube. 

 It is the latest addition to my TV addiction.

Watching You Tube videos is my go to these days when I can no longer handle all the bad news and ugly politics that fills the airwaves. I briefly touched on this subject in my most recent post, “Hey there, Hi there, Ho there,” as I related to filling the hours that used to be spent with favorite TV shows, still on hiatus due to the writers’ strike this summer.  

In addition to reliving days gone by, I have used You Tube to study instructions on how to repair this or that. I’ve sought answers to the ever-growing questions that elude me like who was that actor or what was that movie.

I’ve watched videos about the neighborhoods where I’ve lived. Pleasant memories always fill my head and my heart as I ‘travel’ to another place and time. I’ve watched countless quilting videos and learned how to knit socks.

You Tube, now owned by Google was purchased for $1.65 billion in Oct. 2006. It is the second most visited website in the world, only after Google Search, according to Wikipedia. It was founded on Valentine’s Day 2005 in San Mateo CA by Jawed Karim, Chad Hurley, and Steve Chen.

I certainly appreciate their work because today, I use You Tube to seek my own happy place and it does not disappoint.

 

Hey there, Hi there, Ho there…

One Friday afternoon, I was wondering what to for the weekend. My usual favorite TV shows weren’t on due to the writers’ strike this summer. I didn’t feel like a movie and had already exhausted my fill of reading and sewing, and household chores.

So I turned to You Tube.  I often turn to You Tube to satisfy curiosity, learn more about some of my favorite things, and to enjoy a little nostalgia. Generally, my ‘feed’ shows a variety of different topics. One of which, on this particular night, was a video of the original Mickey Mouse Club, a childhood favorite when I was about three.

I watched the presentation, time-traveling in my mind to my earliest days of TV viewing. My interest was peaked, so I searched for my favorite Mouseketeer, Annette Funicello. I knew she was big, page after page depicted stories, videos, interviews, songs, and movies.

I began watching everything I could find about her. There was so much content, but I settled on a serial she starred in with Tim Considine that aired on the Mickey Mouse Club in the early 50’s. It was called “Annette” and although a little hokey by today’s standards, it was also charming, innocent, and sweet. I found it to be enchanting.

I was surprised that I had zero recollection about what we might call a ‘mini series’ today, although I know I watched it. I watched the Mickey Mouse Club every day. I remember lying on my stomach in front of the television set as my mother scolded, “Don’t get so close!”

When I was five years old, I adored Annette. In fact, the picture above is of a much younger version of myself with my favorite stuffed toy that I named after her. I loved that little tiger. Perhaps that was the beginning of my cat fancy too, who knows? I carried her everywhere. Now that I think about it, I have no recollection of what ever happened to her, but I have never seen another toy like her. Believe me, I have looked.

I was not surprised at all the information about Annette on You Tube. She was the most popular Mouseketeer, hand-picked by Walt Disney who first saw her at a school dance recital. Annette was about 12 when she “got her ears.”

I learned so much about her during my viewing marathon. I realized that my adoration of her was very well-placed as she was an incredible human being who by all accounts was as sweet as the girl she portrayed in her beach movies with Frankie Avalon and in the myriad appearances she made on talk shows and interviews, and on the records she sang. She remains my idea of what a child’s role model should be.

Annette became ill in the late 1980’s. I was a busy young wife and mother at the time, so I was unaware of the struggles she went through after being diagnosed at age 50 with multiple sclerosis. I had no idea how brave and giving she was, or how much she suffered in her last years. She began the Annette Funicello Research fund for neurological diseases with the hope of finding the cause, treatment, and cure for MS. She made it the purpose of her life. While the disease made her unable to walk, eat, or speak in her last years, she never gave up the fight, nor did her devoted husband Glenn Holt.

Annette died April 8, 2013 at the age of 70. Holt died five years later.

It was an emotional weekend where I laughed; I cried. I admired this woman as a child, but not only was she a good role model for a young child, but as an adult, I found that she was even more inspiring. Life is hard for child stars, but Annette seemed to take it all in her stride.

I think about early television and how innocent it all was. But those were the times in which we lived. I’m so grateful to have experienced those years. I think when people talk about the good ole days, this is what they mean. It wasn’t all sunshine and roses, of course. And I can only relate my own experience. Times were simpler, slower. There was a sense of purity and trust. I am glad that at an early age I learned to admire a person with good qualities and character, not just someone who was famous, beautiful, or rich, although Annette was all of those things.

My marathon was filled with emotion, but isn’t that what life is all about?

 

US DOT Secretary visits Gary/Chicago International Airport

U.S. Transportation Secretary Pete Buttigieg returned to his Indiana roots Wednesday to visit the Gary/Chicago International Airport where he remarked about the future of the facility. 

This is music to my ears, as I've been an advocate of the Gary airport for the past 30 years. I've long felt that it just makes sense to improve an existing airport in an urban area close to Chicago, rather than build a brand new airport far, far away from where anyone wants to go.

Oh, I know, the State of Illinois' latest iteration of Chicago's Third Airport is to settle for a cargo airport at Peotone, rather than the sprawling 7-square-mile rival to O'Hare International Airport, one of the busiest airports in the world, which is what they really wanted. 

Illinois' flawed plan for a simply wrong-headed project has never received the support necessary, financial or otherwise, to actually lift the thing off the ground. 

I remember when studies were performed back in the 1990's in search of a perfect location; there was a no-build option for the project, but only for a short time. It was never taken seriously by airport advocates, so they simply dismissed it. 

A long, long time ago

The project was actually first proposed in 1968 by three area chambers of commerce but accomplished little. It was resurrected in 1985, in the Illinois legislature as a means to bring economic vitality to the south suburbs. 

A small contingency of south suburban officials are all that ever really took the project seriously. Even the airlines balked at a new airport. And despite millions of dollars spent trying to make it happen, there has never been a proven need for it.

That isn't for a lack of trying however. Illinois transportation officials and south suburban leaders would try anything to bring back the economically-depressed southern suburbs, trying everything to get the airport to fly. They made it central in planning discussions, proposed economic opportunities with the airport front and center. But they never really looked at what was necessary in the corn, soy, and wheat fields, along the tar and chip roads, and working farm economy of eastern Will County.

Conversely, the Gary/Chicago Airport has enjoyed support of presidents, mayors, governors, and members of the public who recognized a real need to revitalize this airport and this region of the country. For many years, the State of Indiana and City of Chicago have been doing just that. 

Now, add the U.S. Secretary of Transportation and the Biden-Harris Administration to offer their support as well. 

"And I want to lift up the story of Gary because this is a community that kept the fires lit, that literally kept the furnaces going to supply the tens of thousands - tens of millions - of tons of steel that this country needed…" Buttigieg said, likening the viability of the airport to the once-heralded steel industry that actually built the region. 

He added that the federal government wants to make sure that there will be boom times again. 

"We've made new investments to build that heavy air cargo apron and logistics center here at Gary/Chicago Airport," Buttigieg added.

According to the Chicago Tribune, Gary’s airport received a total of $8 million in federal community project funds in 2022 and 2023, with the money going toward a specialized fire truck, snow removal equipment, a heavy air cargo logistics apron and a new sanitary sewer for the cargo center. The airport has requested another $3.5 million in federal funds for 2024, which would help further expand its cargo operations, airport executive director Dan Vicari said.

When I first learned that Pete Buttigieg, the former mayor of South Bend, Indiana was named Transportation Secretary, and that President Joe Biden got a sweeping infrastructure bill through the Congress and signed it into law, I wondered how this would affect the third airport debacle. 

This is what I had hoped, that funds would flow to Gary which has been steadfast in its quest to serve the aviation needs in the region. So far, the federal government barely recognizes the Peotone project.

Peotone does not now nor has it ever had aviation needs. And it is time to pull the plug on the project.