We hear a lot about the unhealthy diets kids are eating these days, but frankly I think they may be teaching nutrition a little bit too well here in the Unionville schools.
Five-sixths of the Tally-ho clan went out to dinner at Longwood Family Restaurant on Saturday. I ordered a gyro sandwich, and the waiter listed my choices for a vegetable: Brussels sprouts, corn, mac and cheese....
That was all I needed to hear: "Oooo! Mac and cheese, please!" I said.
The Young Relative fixed me with a withering look.
"How, exactly," he demanded, "is mac and cheese a vegetable?"
Then again, perhaps I should listen to him about nutrients: earlier that day, he ran his personal best time ever in the "Run for Our Sons" 5K at Patton Middle School.
Saturday, April 20, 2013
Brew pub in Kennett?
Here's some exciting news: there might be a new brew pub opening in Kennett! I was just at Inverbrook Farm's Spring Sale here in West Marlborough, and a very nice lady from the Kennett Brewing Company was there pouring samples on the patio. I tried a very hoppy brew called Xtra C and it was delicious. The woman said they hoped to open in downtown Kennett shortly, but she couldn't divulge any details yet -- all hush-hush -- so I signed up for their email list. I will keep you posted!
The sale -- in which local vendors bring their wares out to the farm -- was just delightful. While I was looking at the offerings from Talula's Table, another shopper told me that I simply must buy their Kennett Mushroom Dip. I obeyed and I'm glad I did: it's simple and exquisite.
Among the other vendors were Anne Eder and her Chansonette orchids; Nomadic Pies, a regular at the Kennett Farmer's Market; Dale Hendricks with some beautiful plants from his Green Light Plants; seeds from Happy Cat Farm; potting soil from the Organic Mechanic Soil Company in Modena; reusable sandwich bags and recycled cloth napkins from Logical Living; Bessie's handmade aprons and bags; Arden & James Eco-goods; pottery by Ardenheim Clayworks; art by Dan McShane (loved his sketch of a fox chasing a hen in a pumpkin patch!); Heirloom Jewelry; Philabucks; Three Birds Bouquets; U Bee Well; and Vidalia's Vintage (old Tupperware and typewriters).
On my way out a woman was standing in the driveway, her eyes shut and her blissful face upturned to the glorious spring sunshine. She "came to" after a moment and apologized; I told her I understood perfectly.
Thank you to Claire Murray for the invitation! A great event.
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The sale -- in which local vendors bring their wares out to the farm -- was just delightful. While I was looking at the offerings from Talula's Table, another shopper told me that I simply must buy their Kennett Mushroom Dip. I obeyed and I'm glad I did: it's simple and exquisite.
Among the other vendors were Anne Eder and her Chansonette orchids; Nomadic Pies, a regular at the Kennett Farmer's Market; Dale Hendricks with some beautiful plants from his Green Light Plants; seeds from Happy Cat Farm; potting soil from the Organic Mechanic Soil Company in Modena; reusable sandwich bags and recycled cloth napkins from Logical Living; Bessie's handmade aprons and bags; Arden & James Eco-goods; pottery by Ardenheim Clayworks; art by Dan McShane (loved his sketch of a fox chasing a hen in a pumpkin patch!); Heirloom Jewelry; Philabucks; Three Birds Bouquets; U Bee Well; and Vidalia's Vintage (old Tupperware and typewriters).
On my way out a woman was standing in the driveway, her eyes shut and her blissful face upturned to the glorious spring sunshine. She "came to" after a moment and apologized; I told her I understood perfectly.
Thank you to Claire Murray for the invitation! A great event.
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Thursday, April 18, 2013
A plea
One reason I started writing this column several years ago was in reaction to all the cheap, snarky meanness and point-scoring that seems to pass for civil discourse in society today. My point in mentioning this is that the political season is upon us, and here in Unionville we've already seen some perhaps overheated election rhetoric. You may disagree with what your local politicians are doing; goodness knows I do sometimes. But please, let's be mature ladies and gentlemen about it. Making accusations and personal attacks is polarizing, it's embarrassing, it's divisive, it's uncalled for, and perhaps worst of all it discourages good people from getting involved in politics. We can do better.
Frozen yogurt
I celebrated the end (I hope) of a particularly unpleasant cold by treating myself to a frozen yogurt at Opayo, a terrific little self-service place tucked away in the New Garden Shopping Center, near the Giant and Pat's Pizza. They give you an empty dish and you pipe out as much frozen yogurt as you want, in any mixture of flavors, and then add any of the 80 toppings and sauces. I had a big dish of chocolate and vanilla yogurt topped with strawberries, blackberries, blueberries and chocolate chips, and it was delicious.
And a big shout-out to my wonderful pal Susan, who took pity on me when I was sick, picked me up in her giant red pickup (which makes any trip more fun) and drove me to the grocery store so I could stock up on soup, crackers and orange juice. (And a bonus: while we were at the store we ran into a foxhunting pal of hers who had just gotten kicked in the leg by a horse, big-time. One look at her bruises and all of a sudden my stuffed head, glassy eyes and hacking cough seemed like nothing to complain about.)
And a big shout-out to my wonderful pal Susan, who took pity on me when I was sick, picked me up in her giant red pickup (which makes any trip more fun) and drove me to the grocery store so I could stock up on soup, crackers and orange juice. (And a bonus: while we were at the store we ran into a foxhunting pal of hers who had just gotten kicked in the leg by a horse, big-time. One look at her bruises and all of a sudden my stuffed head, glassy eyes and hacking cough seemed like nothing to complain about.)
Bloodroot
There seems to be a bumper crop this year of Bloodroot (Sanguinaria canadensis), one of my favorite spring wildflowers. (Oh, who am I kidding? I love ALL spring wildflowers.) "The red juice from the underground stem was used by Indians as a dye for baskets, clothing, and war paint, as well as for insect repellent," according to my well-worn Audubon field guide. It's a member of the poppy family and you can see it growing along the side of country roads. I found these beauties along Hood Road on Thursday.
Close to the edge
I was surprised to learn how far the territory of the Jennersville Y extends.
A young mother I know from the gym, normally the most energetic of souls, posted that she was flat-out sick on the sofa and wouldn't be coming to class. I felt sorry for her and offered to take her some gingersnaps I'd just baked. She was enormously grateful, and I said I'd be right over after class.
"Just tell me how to get to your house," I texted.
I knew I was in for a drive when her instructions started out: Take the bypass beyond Nottingham and turn left.
It turns out she lives very close to the Maryland border, south of Oxford. An unexpected little jaunt! I was so glad I could help her out.
A young mother I know from the gym, normally the most energetic of souls, posted that she was flat-out sick on the sofa and wouldn't be coming to class. I felt sorry for her and offered to take her some gingersnaps I'd just baked. She was enormously grateful, and I said I'd be right over after class.
"Just tell me how to get to your house," I texted.
I knew I was in for a drive when her instructions started out: Take the bypass beyond Nottingham and turn left.
It turns out she lives very close to the Maryland border, south of Oxford. An unexpected little jaunt! I was so glad I could help her out.
Little League
The Young Relative has started playing Little League baseball, so I'm sure I will become as familiar with the URA fields as I did with the Patton Middle School soccer fields. It felt so good sitting out there on the bleachers in the sun the other day! The kids seemed to be having a great time -- one boy even scored a home run -- and, wow, they really throw the ball much faster than I recall from my brother's stint in Little League many years ago.
Toward the end of the afternoon the unmistakable, mouth-watering scent of BBQ started wafting across Route 82 from Hood's outside BBQ grill. Well played, Hood's. Well played.
Toward the end of the afternoon the unmistakable, mouth-watering scent of BBQ started wafting across Route 82 from Hood's outside BBQ grill. Well played, Hood's. Well played.
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
Hedge in the way
I don't need to tell most of you what a bustling place the Kennett Y is (particularly now that the cardio room is open again). And as all those fit people leave the Y, they head either left or right onto Race Street. This item is about what happens when you head left out of the driveway, and then try to make a left turn onto eastbound Cypress Street -- say you want to stop at the Country Butcher, or meet a friend for coffee at Starbucks.
Imagine that intersection, if you will. Are you there? Look to the right, up the hill. What's there blocking your view? A hedge. So you inch out a little further so that you can see any oncoming traffic (there is always oncoming traffic). But because of the hedge, you have to pull so far out that the people who are turning onto Race Street give you dirty looks.
My solution? I think the hedge needs to go, and I'm surprised the usually safety-minded borough hasn't approached the homeowner about it. It blocks the sight distance and creates a traffic hazard at a very busy intersection.
It needn't be an expense for the homeowner. Put up a sign in the Y lobby and I'll bet you'd get a dozen volunteers showing up with saws and clippers. The hedge would be gone in a morning. I'll volunteer to put in a nice groundcover instead. A nice LOW groundcover.
(Update: After reading this, a member of Kennett Borough Council told me he's looking into this situation! Thanks, Dan.)
Imagine that intersection, if you will. Are you there? Look to the right, up the hill. What's there blocking your view? A hedge. So you inch out a little further so that you can see any oncoming traffic (there is always oncoming traffic). But because of the hedge, you have to pull so far out that the people who are turning onto Race Street give you dirty looks.
My solution? I think the hedge needs to go, and I'm surprised the usually safety-minded borough hasn't approached the homeowner about it. It blocks the sight distance and creates a traffic hazard at a very busy intersection.
It needn't be an expense for the homeowner. Put up a sign in the Y lobby and I'll bet you'd get a dozen volunteers showing up with saws and clippers. The hedge would be gone in a morning. I'll volunteer to put in a nice groundcover instead. A nice LOW groundcover.
(Update: After reading this, a member of Kennett Borough Council told me he's looking into this situation! Thanks, Dan.)
Bad reporting
In my first newsroom, at a small town in central Pennsylvania, we had a slogan on the bulletin board: "Get it first, get it fast, get it right." All three parts were absolutely required. If you got something wrong, or late, not only did you get a dressing-down from the editor, but you also got the cold shoulder from your reporter pals: you'd let them down. Sloth on the job was unforgiveable: no matter how boring a small-town municipal meeting was, the thought of missing a story, and then having to explain why to your boss and peers, kept you in your seat. You got burned once misspelling Jon Smythe's name as John Smith, and forever more you learned to ask every single person how to spell his or her name, no matter how obvious it appeared.
We reporters griped constantly, we played hookey from staff meetings and we drank at lunch, but we had a sense of pride in our work far out of proportion to our $180-a-week salaries (perks: free coffee, notebooks and film).
I'm not sure that exists at any news organization except at the most local level anymore: this afternoon two of the major news outlets blundered by announcing that an arrest had been made in the Boston atrocities. I don't want to speculate about how that happened, but I can't help comparing such increasingly common sloppiness to our standards at a little 6-day-a-week paper in Cumberland County, Pennsylvania, staffed by underpaid 20-somethings.
I remember one Friday night, one of my colleagues thought he'd give his editor a chuckle while typing up the birth announcements: he wrote that our sports editor, a bachelor, had had octuplets at the local hospital. The editor didn't read the birth announcements and just sent them through to be typeset. Monday morning, of course, we started fielding excited calls about the octuplets.
The hapless reporter was fired by lunchtime, no questions asked. Which is as it should have been.
We reporters griped constantly, we played hookey from staff meetings and we drank at lunch, but we had a sense of pride in our work far out of proportion to our $180-a-week salaries (perks: free coffee, notebooks and film).
I'm not sure that exists at any news organization except at the most local level anymore: this afternoon two of the major news outlets blundered by announcing that an arrest had been made in the Boston atrocities. I don't want to speculate about how that happened, but I can't help comparing such increasingly common sloppiness to our standards at a little 6-day-a-week paper in Cumberland County, Pennsylvania, staffed by underpaid 20-somethings.
I remember one Friday night, one of my colleagues thought he'd give his editor a chuckle while typing up the birth announcements: he wrote that our sports editor, a bachelor, had had octuplets at the local hospital. The editor didn't read the birth announcements and just sent them through to be typeset. Monday morning, of course, we started fielding excited calls about the octuplets.
The hapless reporter was fired by lunchtime, no questions asked. Which is as it should have been.
Eating like a bird
Remember those baby chicks that arrived in the mail a few weeks ago? I went to visit them after lunch today at my friend's farm and was amazed how much they've grown: they're now the size of small crows. Their wings and tails have come in, and there's a weighted screen across the top of their trough because they've already started to fly.
My friend reports that the 28 birds are eating her out of house and home: they go through two large bowls of chick feed each day, and a full water container. They are still basking under a heat lamp, and they won't be transferred to the coop til they get considerably larger.
My friend reports that the 28 birds are eating her out of house and home: they go through two large bowls of chick feed each day, and a full water container. They are still basking under a heat lamp, and they won't be transferred to the coop til they get considerably larger.
Advertising fail
I've written about the deluge of junk mail I get from Verizon; you probably do, too. Well, Verizon now informs me that I am eligible to get FiOS TV "at a price that's too good to pass up."
This is not likely. I don't want FiOS TV, or any other TV service, at any price.
Nor am I enticed by their newest marketing tie-in with the Marvel comic-book character "Iron Man": "Let FiOS be the hero of your home," reads their slogan. No thanks; I think I'd rather have my garden trowel as the hero of my home.
Obviously I am not the demographic FiOS is targeting. In fact, I think the marketing people at Verizon should pay ME to review their campaigns: "Dude! Tilda called this one `stupid and offensive.' We've got a winner for sure!"
This is not likely. I don't want FiOS TV, or any other TV service, at any price.
Nor am I enticed by their newest marketing tie-in with the Marvel comic-book character "Iron Man": "Let FiOS be the hero of your home," reads their slogan. No thanks; I think I'd rather have my garden trowel as the hero of my home.
Obviously I am not the demographic FiOS is targeting. In fact, I think the marketing people at Verizon should pay ME to review their campaigns: "Dude! Tilda called this one `stupid and offensive.' We've got a winner for sure!"
Office calendar
My office calendar, courtesy of the Avondale firm of H.L. Yerkes & Sons Inc., Growers Supplies, has a page for each week. On the back of each page there's some statistical information, sometimes useful (recommended body weights, suggested baking temperatures) and others times not so much: the number of days between the same date of two months (excluding leap years). All I could think of was the poor intern who had to sit there in front of a calendar counting off the number of days between, say, Feb. 1 and Nov. 1. Welcome to the publishing world, kid!
Sharing
My mornings are pretty much devoted to work, but how could I say no when a friend asked if I wanted any mostly-sun perennials from her garden?
I finished editing the chapter I was working on, collected some boxes and drove over there. She has a huge, lovely, informal garden in her side yard and, while taking stock of what was coming up, realized that she really needed to get rid of some of the phlox, daisies, yarrow and strawberries that were escaping from their plots.
I happily took them off her hands, brought them home and dug them in later that afternoon.
She also tried to give me some mint, anise hyssop and lemon balm, but I've learned a thing or two over the years about how avidly they spread. No, thanks, my friend!
I finished editing the chapter I was working on, collected some boxes and drove over there. She has a huge, lovely, informal garden in her side yard and, while taking stock of what was coming up, realized that she really needed to get rid of some of the phlox, daisies, yarrow and strawberries that were escaping from their plots.
I happily took them off her hands, brought them home and dug them in later that afternoon.
She also tried to give me some mint, anise hyssop and lemon balm, but I've learned a thing or two over the years about how avidly they spread. No, thanks, my friend!
Gun violence
West Marlborough resident Starr Cummin Bright was the lead-off speaker at a gun violence forum sponsored by Oxford mayor Geoff Henry that was held at Oxford Presbyterian Church the evening of April 16.
Starr showed true guts by standing up in front of the large crowd and talking about how, back in 1991 in Landenberg, she was shot at point-blank range by a mentally ill gunman. In her riveting, emotional talk, she described the devastation that one .32-caliber bullet has caused in her body and her life.
"This guy never should've had a gun," she said simply.
Supporting Starr at the talk were her two daughters (who were ages 1 and 3 at the time of the shooting), her husband, sculptor Clayton Bright, and a host of friends.
"Unionville in the News" is not a forum for my political opinions, but I will say that listening to the ensuing discussion, I was struck by the vast cultural and ideological gulf between the extremists on both sides. I know a lot of avid gun-owners with well-defended homes -- hunters, target-shooters, crime victims, farmers -- who fall squarely into the middle camp. We need to hear more from them.
Starr showed true guts by standing up in front of the large crowd and talking about how, back in 1991 in Landenberg, she was shot at point-blank range by a mentally ill gunman. In her riveting, emotional talk, she described the devastation that one .32-caliber bullet has caused in her body and her life.
"This guy never should've had a gun," she said simply.
Supporting Starr at the talk were her two daughters (who were ages 1 and 3 at the time of the shooting), her husband, sculptor Clayton Bright, and a host of friends.
"Unionville in the News" is not a forum for my political opinions, but I will say that listening to the ensuing discussion, I was struck by the vast cultural and ideological gulf between the extremists on both sides. I know a lot of avid gun-owners with well-defended homes -- hunters, target-shooters, crime victims, farmers -- who fall squarely into the middle camp. We need to hear more from them.
Sunday, April 14, 2013
TT loves HP
Much to my surprise and relief, learning how to use my new computer has not been bad at all. In fact, I've actually enjoyed the learning curve.
My old Compaq 2003 laptop was still serviceable -- if the butt of jokes from friends and family -- but it was past its peak: it was getting a little slow, the sound card hadn't worked for years, and an increasing number of my files for work just didn't seem to like opening up in Word 97 anymore.
So while I had a week between projects, I went to Staples and bought an HP All-in-One PC with Windows 8 and Word 2013. As soon as they finished transferring over my old data, I took it home, set it up immediately and devoted the next two days to figuring out the various icons, "tiles" and "charms and learning the new Word functions (new to me, at least!).
With my learning style, I would have appreciated having a manual spelling out where to find things ("This is where your photos were on your old system. Here's where they are now"), but instead you have to just play around and experiment. That part gets a bit frustrating -- until you happen upon a shortcut or a new function that you realize will save you lots of time.
One problem that quickly cropped up was that the new version of Word I bought didn't have Outlook, which is what I used to use for email. Then I remembered that I didn't really need Outlook; I could just get my email directly from Verizon's website. Yes! OK, yes, I lost all my saved emails and email addresses while doing so, but the important people write to me all the time anyway, or I can get their contact information online. Spring cleaning!
I was almost certain my little Olympus camera wouldn't sync with the new computer. I envisioned trying to find the camera's instruction manual, circa 2002, and the software that came with it. No need: the camera linked automatically.
The new computer is so sharp-looking, with its big screen (I actually had to de-brighten it), and everything is so well organized. With my old computer, the space under my old Ikea desk was clogged with peripherals and power cords. Now, there's only a footstool. Amazing.
My old Compaq 2003 laptop was still serviceable -- if the butt of jokes from friends and family -- but it was past its peak: it was getting a little slow, the sound card hadn't worked for years, and an increasing number of my files for work just didn't seem to like opening up in Word 97 anymore.
So while I had a week between projects, I went to Staples and bought an HP All-in-One PC with Windows 8 and Word 2013. As soon as they finished transferring over my old data, I took it home, set it up immediately and devoted the next two days to figuring out the various icons, "tiles" and "charms and learning the new Word functions (new to me, at least!).
With my learning style, I would have appreciated having a manual spelling out where to find things ("This is where your photos were on your old system. Here's where they are now"), but instead you have to just play around and experiment. That part gets a bit frustrating -- until you happen upon a shortcut or a new function that you realize will save you lots of time.
One problem that quickly cropped up was that the new version of Word I bought didn't have Outlook, which is what I used to use for email. Then I remembered that I didn't really need Outlook; I could just get my email directly from Verizon's website. Yes! OK, yes, I lost all my saved emails and email addresses while doing so, but the important people write to me all the time anyway, or I can get their contact information online. Spring cleaning!
I was almost certain my little Olympus camera wouldn't sync with the new computer. I envisioned trying to find the camera's instruction manual, circa 2002, and the software that came with it. No need: the camera linked automatically.
The new computer is so sharp-looking, with its big screen (I actually had to de-brighten it), and everything is so well organized. With my old computer, the space under my old Ikea desk was clogged with peripherals and power cords. Now, there's only a footstool. Amazing.
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