I am saddened and concerned about all the trees that have been lost

I can't remember when I did not have a fondness for trees.  When I was very young we lived in the inner city of Yonkers, NY and there was a chestnut tree in our front yard.  It sat in the middle of a small plot of grass and my parents tended and nurtured it and the grass with great care.  It was a 3 family house, a triple decker; we lived on the second floor.
 
My earliest memory if of the Chestnut tree is looking out of our front windows seeing it barely reaching the top of the first floor windows.  By the time we moved it had grown so that it was taller than the 2nd floor windows and was reaching towards the 3rd floor.

It had large leaves arranged in groupings of seven.  Each spring it had delicate white flowers that grew into chestnuts which were great fun to collect and play with.  The branches and leaves hung gracefully and danced gaily in the wind.  At our school, PS 19, we were required to memorize and recite Joyce Kilmer's poem, Trees.  I still see that beautiful chestnut tree in my mind's eye whenever I think of lines from that poem.


(By way of clarification, if you are from the New York State you will know this, but other may not, to New Yorkers anyplace and all places in state north of New York City and lower Westchester county are "up-state".  So, even though Shrub Oak, where we moved, is only about 45 miles north of NYC, it was and is considered "up-state".) 

When we moved "up-state", to Shrub Oak, a major point of debate and compromise with the builder of our house was to not remove the trees that were on the property, but to work around and preserve them.  This left us with a row of tulip trees along the front road.  In the back road there were 2 clusters of large weeping willows and centrally placed in the back yard was a large and stately elm.  

As with the Chestnut tree in Yonkers these were tended and cared for and, except for the elm grew and flourished.  The elm, like so many, succumbed to Dutch Elm Disease and eventually had to be cut down.  That was a very sad, sad day.  The tree had a raised terrace of grass surrounding which was braced with a stone wall my Dad had built.  There was a flower bed in front of the stone wall that had assorted bulbs and was in continuous bloom from early spring to fall.  It was so pretty to see, so nice to sit under and our dog loved running in circles around it, even when she wasn't being chased!

When we moved to Shrub Oak it was very rural with lots of undeveloped land and lots of woods and fields to explore.
Many hours were spent with my parents or friends walking and roaming in the woods, playing all sorts of imaginary games and enjoying the many and varied trees.  Birch trees became my favorite.  I love the small clusters that they grow in, their delicate white bark, their graceful trunks.  Their delicate beauty still makes me smile.

Not long ago I took a course on mindfulness meditation.  One of the early on practises we were given was designed to bring ones focus to the moment without really having to work at it, or at least that's what I think it was intended to do.  We were asked to think of something we could notice but not be actively looking for.  I opted for birch trees and since then I still notice them.  Whether walking or driving I don't look for them, but so very often just see them and it stills my mind and makes me smile.

When I was on my road trip to Nova Scotia I really got into noticing all the landscape that surrounded me.  And that has continued since. Whether I am on a long drive or just running errands in the neighborhood I often slow down or pull over to truly see the beauty of a field, a flower, a tree, the sky.  

Since that really severe wind and weather of this past winter, I keep seeing more and more trees bent and broken.  Some are just snapped off, some are torn from the ground with roots ripped out.  Some seem to be bent in half like a pipe cleaner.  They seem to be everywhere.  The clean up being done leaves stacks and stacks of branches and trunks along the side of roads,  is really great.  But that too saddens me as by the side of the road awaiting the chippers.  

I am saddened by how many trees have been lost.  I think this may be nature's way of culling the woods to make room for new growth, but worry that it is an indicator of some ecological problem we have caused.  

Trees     By Joyce Kilmer

I think that I shall never see

A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest

Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,

And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in Summer wear

A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;

Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,

But only God can make a tree.

There's something about a sparkly, clean house.....

...that so pleases and satisfies me.  My home has always been important to me and it has always been my most favorite place to be or to spend my vacation.  

I've always made it a warm and welcoming nest, primarily for my own satisfaction, but also so that guests and visitors will feel comfy.  

And I must admit I have enjoyed cleaning up until very recently when it has become a too laborious chore or when a teenager when I had no choice.   Fussing and puttering around the house has always been a favorite pastime.

There is a great satisfaction in working my way around a room, dusting, polishing, sweeping,, vacuuming, moping and then the final arranging or rearranging of things.  I can't count the number of days I have spent doing this with such great pleasure.  

At the end of a cleaning day, I would have a long, hot soak in my sparkling clean tub, in my squeaky clean bathroom, by candlelight with soothing music playing with something a bit intoxicating to sip.  After that I would put on clean pajamas, go from room to room admiring my hard work as surfaces shimmered and sparkled in the dimmed lights. And finally, climbing into my bed with crisp, clean sheets, stretching out, and falling into the deep and restorative sleep of satisfaction and physical weariness.  


For most of my adult life I've had this attitude, energy and experience about cleaning.  But, these past few years the physical effort has been more than I can muster.  I would imagine myself doing things, but once I started, I would hardly get anything done and needed to rest.  This took all the pleasure out of it and made it a chore I dreaded.  

So, l simply stopped regular cleaning.  Living alone with just my 2 senior citizen cats my house really doesn't get messy or dirty.  Some stuff gets tracked in on shoes and paws, over time some dust will settle.  Doing what my Mother always referred to as "a lick and a promise" would keep things in pretty good order for a long, long, time.  But every fall and Spring I have done a major floor to ceiling cleaning.

I was lucky last fall, my daughters were available and they did a great job.  But both are quite busy now, so they couldn't help me out.  I used Project Advisor to find a cleaner near me and oh, what a dream.  I don't mention names, because I don't have releases, but will provide this link, which is to public information.

https://www.homeadvisor.com/rated.LucieneDaSilvaHouse.70286182.html

This lady arrived early, started right in and worked without a break the entire day.  She cleaned like I would have if I could.  There isn't a surface or spot in my entire home that isn't clean, shiny, sparkling.  The windows appear invisible and, as it is a clear, sunny day, the light streams in.  She not only washed the windows, she vacuumed and washed the sills and she vacuumed the screens!  Nothing to block out any light. She vacuumed the exhaust fans in both bathrooms!  Every picture and mirror was dusted and polished, the reflection of light off of them is stunning.

I am so pleased with my sparkling house and feel it is now ready for prospective buyers to fall in love with at an open house. 

Next: Editing my stuff for the open house, ugh!

A Pause for some cooking chatter

For the past few years I have supported the fund raising efforts of my church and other local non-profits by offering 8 months of home-made soup at their auctions.  I offer a quart of soup, made from scratch using seasonal, local ingredients as much as possible, each month from September through April.  I aim for low salt, low to no fat, tasty soups.

I originally thought to do this because I like soup and especially enjoy making it in the colder months, but have never mastered how to make small quantities, "soup for one".  So, this way I make a lot, 3+ gallons and share with others and also have enough for myself.  

Over the years that I've been doing this, I've fine-tuned many parts of the preparation.  This year I really worked on, and think I have truly perfected, my stocks.

I had read somewhere when looking at stock recipes that many chefs keep a huge pot on the back burner of the stove and toss scraps into it so that they are always making a rich stock from fresh ingredients.

Taking my cue from this I started saving the peels and scraps from just about all vegetables I prepare.  I kept them in a bag in the freezer, adding more as they became available.  I put in potato peels, onion and garlic skins, carrot tops, leaves, ends, pieces of that I used.  When I needed a vegetable stock, these were more than enough to make a really good base.

When it is time to make a stock, regardless of what kind I was making, the whole bag of frozen, raw, vegetables goes into the pot.

A technique I adopted from the Julia Child's Turkey gravy recipe, is to roast all the meat and or bones first, before adding to the stock.  Whatever I was using, and most of the time it was the trimmed parts from the meat, excess fat, and lots of bones, I roast them until they are well browned.  Then, in addition to these solids, I de-glaze the pan and add all those flavorful, browned bits to the stock pot.

I use as many fresh herbs and spices as I can.  I put all these in a piece of cheese cloth and tie it closed and toss it into the pot.  This way the flavor will be there, but not the solids.

And I also cook over a very low flame for a very long time. I bring it to a boil, then lower the flame to as low as I can get, put on a tight cover, and let it simmer for anywhere from 3 to 6 hours.

My goal is to have a rich, clear, low fat stock.  To get this I use my stock pot which came with 2 strainer inserts, one the full size of the pot and the other much smaller.  I use the larger one put all the solids that will make the stock in it, place it inside the stock pot, and then fill with enough water to cover, but not so much as to boil over and make a mess. When I feel I have gotten all the goodness and flavor out of everything I simply lift the basket and all the bones and large solid pieces are removed.  

Then the whole pot goes in the fridge for an hour or so.  This lets the excess fat come to the top and solidify so it can be easily removed.  And then I filter out all tiny bits and pieces.  To do this I line a large strainer with 2 layers of folded cheese cloth and pour the stock through it.  This leaves a clear, flavorful stock.   If it isn't "thick" enough I add some unflavored gelatin.

Lastly, so that I have some stock for when I may need it, I fill one or two ice cube trays with the stock and freeze.  When frozen I transfer the stock cubes to a freezer bag and they are ready for when I need to add one or more to what I am cooking.

Also, my senior citizen cats have teeth and gum issues and need soft foods, so one cube left to defrost in their food dish is a treat they love.

If no one wants it, it has no monetary value

One of the most difficult tasks of downsizing is the letting go of the stuff that we have accumulated and collected over the course of our lives.  

Last year I spend many, many, many months assisting my older brother who has Parkinson's and the related dementia.  He had been living alone and I was his nearest caretaker, over 200 miles away.  Last year he was persuaded to move to an appropriate setting close to his son and his family in the Seattle area.  In preparation of this a good number of my visits were spent sorting through stuff and making the decisions about what would go with him and what wouldn't.

This was excellent preparation for my own culling process.  When doing this with my brother I came up with some ways to help him, and when deciding about my possessions, to help me, make the choices needed.

A real stumbling block can be "just getting rid of things".  There can be lots of furniture, dishware, flatware, glassware, etc., etc., etc. that was purchased for a dear price and is of excellent style, quality.  The hard thing to accept is that so many of the things my generation has valued are not valued by the current young adults.

It would be easy to turn this into a negative reflection of them, their taste, their choice, their values about what is and isn't important.  But it really isn't a value judgement, it is a reflection of fashion and lifestyle.  Younger generations have over and over again rejected what their elders held dear, so this is not a new phenomenon.  And we elders need to cut them some slack.

It is okay that they don't want the stuff we have.  And it is okay that they don't find it lovely and attractive and compelling as we do.  Our liking and appreciating it doesn't make us "better" and their not liking and appreciating it doesn't make them "not as good".  It simply makes all of us who we are.

The often difficult part to accept, when thinking about letting go of items and considering selling them is this; if no one wants it, regardless of what it might of cost, it simply has no monetary value.

The way I helped my brother (and now help me) get beyond that was to pose the question, "was it purchased as an investment, did you buy it because it would increase your assets and wealth".  For all the stuff in the house the answer was no.  My next question was, "Did you enjoy owning it, using it, looking at it; did it give you pleasure?".  And the consistent response was, yes.  So, I concluded, you got your money's worth out of it, enjoyed it, and now, it is simply time to gracefully let it go.

I know this is true for me.  And think it might be true for most.  I did not purchase my furniture, pots, dishes, jewelry, decor items as investments.  I got them because I liked them.  I lived with them, enjoyed how then enhanced my home or my day-to-day living.  That no one else may want to spend any money on them is simply the way it is.  I had my pleasure and letting go is simply okay. 

Next, okay I can let go, but of what?

We resume our schedule....Where, where, where?

When I first moved to the North Shore, in 1986 I lived in Peabody and for the next 12+ years lived there and then Salem.  I got very settled in the locale as I also worked in Peabody

So, when first started thinking about a change, I thought, well back to the Peabody area, for a number of reasons.  They follow in no particular order except as they come to mind:

• Some public transportation,
• Good access to Boston: auto, train, boat,
• It's familiar to me,
• Good friends in that area,
• Good senior transportation services,
• GREAT Senior Centers,
• Good options for privately owned senior housing,
• Good shopping, movies, theater, museum,
• Good higher education, life-long learning access,
• My favorite car wash is there,
• My Optician is there,
• My Primary Care Doc is in Beverly,
• My medical providers are at Lahey Peabody,
• Good libraries with lots going on

 So, that is where I started looking and in fact have submitted some housing applications.  The wait list for these is about 5 years, so in the meantime I'm looking a market rentals.

Now, both my girls have settled in Haverhill, which is about 15 minutes from where I am now, a bit north west.  And since they have settled there, they visit a lot.  And not just per-arranged visits.  Often I get a call or a text and next thing I know they are here.  And sometimes, they truly surprise and delight me and just drop in.

I've found myself loving these visits and wanting as many of them as they are willing to share.  They may not be long or elaborate, just a quick, "hi, can I fax this, love ya, bye".  I am loving having them around whenever it fits their busy schedule.  I love them so and enjoy them so and am so thrilled that they want to spend time with me.  I will take as much of this as I can get for as long as possible.

The clincher was the day I had been home alone all day and just puttering.  I was doing, not sure what, and they burst in on and surprised me.  It was just too grand! When they left I realized, I want more, I want to live near to them, so there would be as much of this as possible.

And so, I decided on Haverhill.  It is a city with all that a city has to offer, not unlike Peabody. In many ways in reminds me of Yonkers, NY where I was born and lived until I was 9.  On a river, hilly, lots of old mills, re-vitalized downtown.  So, it is a teeny bit like coming home.

And the list of why I should is not dissimilar to the reasons for the Peabody area.

• Some public transportation,
• A bit further to Boston, but easy auto, train access,
• It's familiar to me,
• Have my girls in that area,
• Have good friends in that area,
• Good senior transportation services,
• Good Senior Center,
• Good options for privately owned senior housing,
• Good shopping and easy access to NH shopping,
• Good higher education, life-long learning access,
• Good library with lots going on,
• Close to my church,
• My current volunteer commitments are there,
• Close to my favorite quilt shops in NH,
• My quilt guild meets there

With the geography decided, next is: What type of apartment housing?

Snow an April 2nd, why not?!?!

It's New England.  Yesterday, Easter Sunday was mostly sunny, in the 50s and quite nice.  A lovely Easter day.  

Today it isn't that cold, low 40s but quite grey and right now it is snowing.  Kind of like the ups and downs of moods and life in general.  Living in New England is good daily preparation for life.  

Look for the best, hope for good things, and then rally around what actually happens.  

We don't live with a long, horrid, extended dark, cold season, throughout winter we have lots of bright days which help remind us that there is hope.  We don't live in a perpetual warm, sunny season, throughout summer we get rainy days, chilly days, to remind us to appreciate the warmth and sun and be grateful for it.  

And those two transitional seasons, Spring and Fall, the beginning/ending ones, they are full of the visual beauty, enticing smells, beguiling sounds of changing seasons, and are full of welcome and unwelcome surprises,  Just like life.  

So, living in New England isn't always convivial, we don't always get the weather what we want.  And often we have to change or adapt plans to fit the actual (as opposed to predicted) weather.  

I believe we do get the weather we need to keep us grounded, to keep us in tune with reality, and nourish and nurture our faith.  

A snowy day after a sunny Easter is a more than a bit of a reminder that yes, there is always a rebirth, resurrection after a loss or death, but also there will always be another loss to transcend.  

It tells me to be strong and steady in my faith and not take it, or any part of life, for granted.  

So, yes, I would rather it wasn't snowing today, but can't say I over mind it.  I know that sun and warmth will be here with greater frequency if I am steadfast.