Today was Bentley’s 4^th birthday. A friend of ours decided to throw him a birthday party at the park. Mike invited 11 dogs to join in the fun. Of course, we didn’t think anyone would really come, but at 10:00, we loaded the dogs into the truck and drove to the MacKay Nature Reserve to see if this event was really going to happen. As we pulled into the parking lot, there was Mike with nine other dogs waiting for Bentley and Cooper to arrive. Mrs. MacKay was even there to join in on the fun.

     There were three labs (one yellow, and two chocolate), two Bichon Frise, a Poodle a Collie/Shepherd mix, an Australian Shepherd, Golden Retriever, our Engish Springer Spaniel and our Great Dane.

     One of the owners brought Bentley a “gift” – a pound of hot dogs!  RJ, of course, broke the hot dogs up into pieces and shared with the other dog guests. Bentley also got a rawhide bone and a ham hock. I guess he thought he was in doggie heaven.  RJ had brought a bag of biscuits for our guests to enjoy.  It was amazing that these dogs could come together and be so well mannered. They played. They ate.  They rolled around in the snow and chased each other.

     After a morning of romping in the park, it was time to go home.  Bentley was pooped from his party and visiting with all his friends. Happy Birthday, Bentley!

     I went to the Rochester Central Library this evening to hear Jack Garner talk about 1001 movies you have just got to see before you die! He had 150 must see films. I was amazed that I had seen about 70-80% of them already. That’s scary!

Here are a few the of the all time greats that are must see.

1. The Reader
2. No Country for Old Men
3. Into the Wild
4. Brokeback Mountain
5. There Will Be Blood
6. A Beautiful Mind
7. Pulp Fiction
8. Alien
9. Blade Runner
10. LA Confidential
11. A River Runs Through It
12. A Year of Living Dangerously
13. The Departed
14. Jaws
15. Raiders of the Lost Ark
16. Taxi Driver
17. Saving Private Ryan
18. Godfather I and II
19. In the Heat of the Night
20. The Pawnbroker
21. A Streetcar Named Desire
22. The King and I
23. To Kill A Mockingbird
24. Casablanca
25. It’s A Wonderful Life

And of course there were a lot more but these were a few of my favorites.

     I have always been a big movie fan, even as a kid. Saturday afternoons were double feature days. My friends and I would walk down to the Bailey Show to see whatever was playing.  I’d stop at the bar to see my dad and get a few coins for the ticket and penny candy at Leader’s Drug Store. 

     Our family’s bar was located on the corner of Bailey and Genesee. I’d go into the side door, pass the tables and chairs, to the bar where my dad was working. I would wait as patiently as a kid can, until my dad could break away from customer and say “hi” and ask me what I wanted. I would tell him I was going to the show and he would give me 25 cents for the movie and a dime for candy.  Ten cents usually went pretty far back then. 

     After leaving the bar, we would cross

     The foyer was big and lush with marble floors that shined like a new dime. Against the wall on the left were three booths built into the wall with telephones. The seats were wood and highly polished.  A folding wooden door with glass inserts could be closed for privacy. The diamond-shaped pattern extended all the way to the double doors that were covered in a dark red velvet curtain and opened to a massive auditorium lined with rows of seats.

     The carpet was dark red, thick, and plush, so if anyone walked in during the film you didn’t hear them.  On the wall to the right was posted the times of the movies. A tiny light extended over the small plague so you could read the times even in the darken theater.

More tomorrow…

     It is quiet this morning. The sound of the furnace makes a soft rumbling sound as it spreads warm air through the vents in the floor. Cooper sits at my feet, leaning on the calf, keeping my toes warm. Bentley, my couch potato, is still curled up on his bed, which is the size of a floating mattress.

     The keys to my keyboard sound exceptional loud, only to be overshadowed by the muffled sounds of heat. The kettle boils but does not whistle. The cap is long gone and I watch as the steam creeps up to microwave, coating it with pearls of moisture.  I shuffle over to the stove, turn off the gas. The steam still rises and I lift the kettle and pour the water into my cup. The tea bag floats. Cooper is at my side. 

     I dip the spoon into the water and scoop out the tea bag that is floating. I squeeze out the water with the spoon and my fingers – hot – and throw it in the trash under the sink. The tea smells hot and I try to sip. I blow on the surface and attempt to sip again. Still to hot. I look out the window. The woods are still covered in a winter blanket and there is no sound.

     Taking the cup, I return to the table in the dining room.  The furnace is now quiet. Cooper returns to his place under the table by my feet. His breathing is heavy and loud. His eyes are closed. I sip the warm liquid and savor the flavor.

     Ask I work, the creek next to the “little” house, gurgles, “Where are the ducks?” before it flows over the waterfall and continues down to Oatka Creek. I look. The ducks are not upstream. Maybe later.

     Paper is strewn over my table, along with my sewing machine and pinned fabric waiting for thread to hold it together and become something. My mind wanders through my list of the day. That which has been completed has been filed away and new projects remerge, begging for completion.  My multi-colored bulky yarn is bunched in the center of the table next to the silver tray that holds a stapler, two pens, a magazine, and a book review. Valentine’s Day cards are neatly piled next to my book on top of the address book waiting for a pronouncement of my love for my family. I have time.

     The silence is broken by the sharp ring of the phone. I answer.

     “Attention, homeowners, are you behind one payment?”

I hang up. Computerized Telemarketing. They are a disruption I do not need.

      Today is Martin Luther King Day. A time to reflect on our great nation, about where she has been and where she is going.

Martin Luther King
August 28, 1963 

     Today while I was walking Cookie and Pippa with RJ, I met a man taking out his trash.

     “Good morning,” I said.

     “Good morning,” he replied.

     “Beautiful day,” RJ said.

     “Yes, it is,” he answered. The old man began walking down the driveway toward the street where we were standing with our son’s dogs.

     RJ paused. “This is Cookie and this is Pippa.”

     “Cute dogs.”

     “Thank you,” RJ replied.

     “You know, I’m 88 years old. I was wounded in Italy during World War II. I can only raise my arm this high.” He raised his arm straight out in front of him. “But I’m alive. I was wounded on January 8, 1944, 65 years ago on this very day. Can you believe it? Sixty-five years ago today.”

     “Wow!” I said softly.

     “I spent a lot of time in a lot of hospitals with his arm.”

     “My father was in the Polish army during the War,” RJ said.

     “My dad was in the army. He was awarded the Bronze Star. He drove a tank,” I added.

     “I was in the infantry and I’m Jewish. In fact my commanding officer said to me, ‘Cohen, you are not too smart being a Jew and in the infantry.” He tapped the side of this head as he spoke. “Maybe I wasn’t too smart, but I’m alive today.”

      “That’s great,” RJ said. “You have a nice day.”

      “I will,” he said as he turned and walked back up his driveway toward his back door.

      RJ and I walked back to our son’s house in silence. Sixty-five years. That’s a very long time and still Mr. Cohen remembers Italy and being wounded as though it was yesterday. Sixty-five years. So much time has passed and before long there will be no one left who served in World War II to tell the story of those men and women who went to fight in a foreign country to fight in a war that was to end all wars. How many wars have there been since that one? Too many, I’m afraid.

     I think I would like to sit and talk to Mr. Cohen again, to hear more about the war and what he did. What the battle was like near Rome, Italy, where he was wounded, when did he return home. So many questions. I think I would like to get to know him better. I bet I could learn a lot.

     I can’t believe how I have been sleeping in the morning. It is so unusual for me to be getting up at 8:30 AM. I’ve been an early riser since I can’t remember when. Now that we are “on vacation,” early morning just doesn’t happen. This morning we walked Pippa, M & J’s cockapoo. We walked to the Los Angeles River and toured the surroundings neighborhoods. Houses here are very expensive compared to a similar neighborhood in New York. The lots are relatively small compared to where we live. It looks like the houses fill the entire lot. Very small front yards with no side yards.

     There is so much traffic! I think I would have a hard time driving in L.A. until I had a feel for the streets. M & N took us to the Pantages Theater for the Wicked lottery. What is the Wicked lottery, you ask. Well, the Wicked, the musical, has been sold out forever, and it’s only in L.A. for 7 more days. There were 2 cancellations today for $250 each. But in the lottery, today there were 26 tickets available.  You have to get there 2 ½ hours before the show to enter. Then 2 hours before the show, people are selected based on those who had signed up for the lottery. Needless to say, we didn’t win any tickets, but we certainly had a good time participating. 

     Then we went to Amoeba, which is this absolutely the most extensive music and DVD store I had ever been in. RJ managed to find Letters to Iwo Jima, which had been looking for and I found a copy of The Orphanage, a Spanish horror film.  M found a complete copy of Vampyr, the classic German vampire movie. So all in all, it was a good day.

     This evening we are playing Wii. Got to go!

      This morning I had the undying pleasure of reading all morning!!! I finished Creepers by David Morrell. He wrote Rambo. I was addicted to the story. I couldn’t put it down.

      Today we went to see The Curious Case of Benjamin Button with Brad Pitt. Superb! I would highly recommend this movie.  Read the short story by F. Scott Fitzgerald. You can get the short story online. http://www.readbookonline.net/read/690/10628/  This film should be nominated and win awards for make-up, costumes, and screenplay. Brad Pitt was wonderful as Benjamin Button.  This was a 3 hour movie, and I swear, it never felt like it was that long. I would definitely recommend seeing this film.

What a fabulous game! This is my first Rose Bowl Game ever. I had an absolutely wonderful time! I can’t remember ever remembering seeing so many people in one place. The Rose Bowl had a crowd of over 92,000 people. The Penn State Blue Band, as always, plaDayyed superbly. Tight formation. Great sound. It reminded me of M’s Penn State days and his time in the percussion section.

Today was pretty low key.  We had a fantastic dinner. N got in from NYC this afternoon and cooked for us. The dish was chicken with onions, dried cranberries, raisins, olives, and garlic. The sauce was a yogurt with garlic, salt and pepper. He made a rice side disk that was crusted on the outside and moist on the inside. 

This evening I had time to knit, write, and watch a movie with my son. Can’t beat that! It’s had to believe it’s Friday already and the second of January. RJ and I still have a couple of days with one of them before M has to go back to work. I would like to visit the Angeles National Forest. It could be fun to do a little hiking.

I’ll keep you posted on my L.A. adventure.

      Today, RJ and I went with friends to the Genesee Country Village and Museum to see Yuletide in the Country. This tour takes you into the museum’s village with a step back into history beginning in 1814 and continuing to 1890 following the evolution of our American Christmas tradition.  I think this was the best one yet. The tour lasted about 1 hour 45 minutes and it was followed by a fabulous buffet dinner comprised of a variety of dishes from the 1800’s. Of course, I manage a faux pas by asking the chief if there was any gravy. I was informed that it had not been invented yet. Oops!

     The Yuletide menu was all meals that were served in New England and the mid-Atlantic states from foods that were available in the late fall and winter. So dishes with beets, celery, corn (corn chowder), onions (onion soup) chestnut dressing, squash, peas, potatoes – all put into absolutely divine dishes for consumption. I definitely have got to get the recipe from Shaun on the ginger beets. They were superb! The butternut squash with nutmeg was flavorful and a perfect side dish to the beef and turkey.

     I think I will add a couple of these wonderful side dishes to my menu for Christmas dinner next week. They will be a welcomed addition to our own feast.

     It’s Thursday and I’m glad to be home. This afternoon RJ and I went out to run a couple of errands. It didn’t matter what store we were in, Bah Humbug! was in the air. I have never seen so many unhappy, rude, and totally disconnected people in all my life.

     In AC Moore, an arts and crafts store, the lady at the checkout counter, stood there will a frown on her face and a bite in her voice.  There was no one in her line, so RJ pushed our cart into the aisle toward the register. The old gal looked up and snapped, “This was my last customer. I’m closed.”

     RJ backed out of the aisle and returned to the first aisle with a long line of customers waiting to check out.  I mean really; there was only 2 registers. Why she snapped at RJ is beyond me.  I looked at him and he said, “Well, I guess, she told me. I’m not used to getting hollered at, especially in a store.”

     I said, “So much for customer service.”

     The woman ahead of us did not hear the exchange and walked toward the old gal with no one in her line. RJ watched. He knew what was coming.  Needless to say, the quip from the old gal was just as harsh and the woman returned to the end of our very long check-out line, obviously embarrassed and upset.  RJ said, “You were in front of me. Come up here.” The woman thanked him.

     I said, “So much for Christmas spirit.”

     “My, I was yelled at,” she replied. “All I wanted was to buy this tissue paper. I’ve been looking for gift baskets. My mother died and I am getting things ready for the funeral.”

     I said I was sorry for her loss. She paid for her things at this register, thanked the young man behind the counter as she took her bag.  We were next.

     “Did you find everything you were looking for?”

     “Yes,” I replied.

     Meanwhile, the old gal was getting ready to leave her register. Another associate (or supervisor) was checking out her drawer. The old gal grabbed a shopping cart and pushed it toward the exit, almost running over RJ. She left the cart in the entrance way and blew passed us without a second look. I glanced up at RJ is amazement. 

     “Not happy,” I said.

     The young man at the register was trying to check us out, answer the phone, and wrap my candles all at the same time.  I couldn’t wait any longer. He asked me if I wanted my candles wrapped in paper.  I said I did. The phone rang again. He answered it. I started to bag my own things. As he wrapped the candles, he gave them to RJ to bag. I couldn’t believe it. I’m bagging my own merchandise!

     This is the last time I shop at AC Moore.

     Favorite recipes are hard to come by. I’ve been compiling recipes (the tried and true ones) since who knows when. It seems that when I was a little girl growing up in the bar, the kitchen was the place to be.  Everything smelled good. The hustle and bustle of my grandma cooking and my aunt serving tables was a way of life. My job was to stay out of everyone’s way. Dad would come in and call out orders from the bar or grab wrapped packages of food for customers who had come in to pick up their orders. The bar was a very busy place. It was a local tavern and restaurant that served good old fashion home cooked meals – mostly Polish cooking, but my family could cook just about anything. Fridays were fish fry days and boy, could we move fish!  Breaded, fried fillets of haddock were served with stacks of French fries and homemade Cole slaw. My grandma and aunt would put the food on thick cardboard plates (none of this thin paper plates of today), add the tartar sauce for the fish, cover it with waxed paper, wrap it in sheets of newspaper, and slip it into brown paper bags. God, I loved those fish fries.

     Today’s recipe is one of my favorites. Easy to make and delicious with a cup of coffee.

Alternate:        1 cup sour cream

Bake at 350º for 45-50 minutes or until golden brown or toothpick comes out clean. 

This coffee cake can be made ahead and frozen. Drizzle confectionary sugar frosting over cake or sprinkle with confectionary sugar.  The coffee cake is good enough to serve without the sugar frosting.  Enjoy!

     I stare at the blank page and have no idea where my words will take me.  I discover that I have a lot to say but no time to translate that to paper.  I wonder when would be a good time to write. I need a space. Someplace where I can go to explore my thoughts and record my words. I've tried the office desk. It is too cluttered with "work." My bedroom has no writing space.  The Dining Room has a large table. I can see the mill pond through the sliding glass door, but the space is rather open and not conducive to writing. The Living Room is not set up for work. The stove is a focal point with the entertainment center dominating one wall.  That leaves the burgundy leather couch and loveseat to fill the center space. Once again no place to write.  The kitchen table faces the front of the house and the woods... that space doesn't work either. So my dilemma continues. 
     A writer's studio... or at least a writer's space.  I think tomorrow I'll set up on the dining room table and see what I can accomplish... if anything.  I need to write... to remember. There is so much I am afraid I will forget if I don't write it down.

     Stories.  Have you read The Mermaid's Chair? It's well worth the read. It's a story about traveling inside. I think that's what writing does for me. It lets me travel within.   I think I need to travel more.