Coming soon

If you're on Facebook you can get a sneak peek of what's going on inside the "Market at Liberty Place" at State and Center Streets in Kennett Square. The owners, Larry and Geoff Bosley, have posted a neat little video showing workers building walls and installing tile in preparation for the much-anticipated opening of the marketplace, which they describe as "combining community and culinary creativity." The official ribbon-cutting is at 6 p.m. Thursday, June 27.

"I'm bored"

I well remember how bored I used to get over summer vacation as a kid. So here's a suggestion for you newly freed students: instead of waiting until the night before, why not get a jump on your entries for this fall's Unionville Community Fair? Make some artwork or crafts. Play around with your photographic techniques. Experiment with cookie recipes (I noticed that one of the perennial cookie contest champions just graduated!). Tend your potentially prize-winning flowers and vegetables carefully.
And be sure to put the Fair on your autumn calendar: October 4, 5, and 6.

 

Freeze frame

Hillendale Elementary wrapped up the academic year with the annual fifth-grade Wax Museum. It was quite amazing: the kids chose scenes from American history, for example a Southern plantation or the Boston Tea Party, decided how best to portray them, produced sets and costumes, and then acted out the scene without speaking or moving as visitors walked by.
Some kids had it easier than others, although I know it's not easy even playing dead (you have to breathe without letting your abdomen rise). I have no idea how others stayed so still -- like the plantation mistress who was pointing out a spot of dust to her slave.
Of course I did my darnedest to distract the Young Relative, but I was utterly without success (my parents claim they got him to crack a tiny smile, but I'm skeptical).
What a terrific tradition! The kids probably didn't know that such "tableaux vivants" were a popular form of entertainment before our current media age.

What was I thinking?

Tilda's strategizing skills clearly need some help.
This evening the Cranky Friend and I were having a drink at the Half-Moon (which, by the way, just turned 16!) and realized that dinnertime was rolling around. Lucky for us, Lily's sushi restaurant is just steps away.
"You buy the drinks, I'll buy dinner," I offered. He accepted immediately.
Really bad decision on my part. Because it was still "happy hour" our bar tab was only $10! The bartender said she'd overheard my generous suggestion and wanted to stop me before it was too late.
The Suddenly-Not-so-Cranky Friend was utterly gleeful the rest of the evening. He scanned the sushi menu for the most expensive item and briefly considered ordering the "sushi for two" platter and eating it all himself.
But he didn't, and even let me have a shrimp out of his Tom Yum soup, an unheard-of kindness.

Bluegills come in every size

On Sunday I saw a boy fishing with his father at the lake in Anson Nixon Park. The Dad was giving him pointers on casting, and soon enough the boy's bobber went under and he took his time and patiently hauled in a bluegill.
"Dad!" he called out, triumphantly holding it up. "You don't have to catch fish for me anymore!"

That tree

The beloved Springdell tree is no more.
If you know the tree I'm talking about, I don't need to explain how beautiful and dramatic it was, standing alone atop a hillside north of Route 841, near Chapel Road. The often-photographed tree was just always there, reliable, majestic and comforting -- until this morning, when it blew over, crashing down to the east. At 10:39 a.m. I got a text message from the Sharp-Eyed Friend: "Omg. The tree fell down. That tree." I pulled on my boots, grabbed my phone and raced over.
It was a steep climb up the hill to the tree and it was a sad one. Instead of standing proudly, the tree was lying on the ground, pointing toward Blow Horn. Some of the limbs

were twisted apart, and smaller branches had been blown all the way down the hillside. There was a crater, with rocks in the bottom, where the roots had been; now they stuck up grotesquely toward the sky.
Looking down over the valley I could see a few cars stopped down along the road and other motorists were going very slowly and, I'm sure, gazing up to where the tree used to be. I immediately posted a photo online and my phone started "binging" once a minute with shocked and dismayed reactions. All day people were talking about how devastated they were to hear the news. One woman even called to make sure I was going to write an obituary.
Until today, I didn't realize how much that beautiful, inspiring tree meant to me and to lots of others. Our affection toward it was a bond that united the community. All you had to do was say "that tree," and people knew what you were talking about. We all lost a friend on Thursday morning.

Update #1: Initially I thought the tree had been hit by lightning because I saw a black crease down the trunk, but apparently that was earlier damage, and the strong winds were the culprit.

Update #2: I received the following note from blog-reader Dana: "Although I am no longer living in the area, I reminisce about the many times that tree served as my muse each time I passed it on morning rides (horseback and bicycle). It made each season more beautiful and I will miss it each time I return to my old neighborhood."

Well said.
Update #3: I was told on Friday that the landowner plans to put in a new tree in the same spot!
Update #4: You'll notice I've just been calling it "the tree." Some say it's a Hickory, but I strongly believe it's an Ash (it has opposite leaflets rather than alternating ones). I'm playing it safe and going with the generic.

Nettles

A fellow was telling me last night about how he brews tea from the leaves of the stinging nettles that flourish in his backyard. After donning cowhide gloves, he carefully picks the leaves, rips them in half, pours boiling water over them and lets them steep for 15 to 20 minutes. He then puts an ice cube in the concoction to cool it off and drinks it. He said it tastes bitter, so he'll sometimes steep the leaves along with some regular loose tea.
Why does he do this? He believes the tea is a natural histamine blocker.
If you're unfamiliar with stinging nettle, let me stress that the first step -- wearing gloves -- is critical. All you need to do is brush up against the plant's little stinging hairs and you will feel it the rest of the day.
According to Wikipedia, nettle leaves are also used as an early-spring vegetable (they are said to taste like spinach) and are made into soups, cordials and beer. And in Great Britain, competitors in the annual Stinging Nettle Eating Championship in Dorset "attempt to eat as much of the raw plant as possible. Competitors are given 60 cm (20 in) stalks of the plant, from which they strip the leaves and eat them. Whoever strips and eats the most stinging nettle leaves in a fixed time is the winner. The competition dates back to 1986, when two neighboring farmers attempted to settle a dispute about which had the worst infestation of nettles."

Fig magazine

A little hard-copy magazine called "Fig" has popped up recently and it is very nicely done indeed. Perhaps the current issue, all about local restaurants, shops, and organizations, has landed in your mailbox; if so,  don't toss it. Pretty photos, interesting content, clean and uncluttered design -- and best of all, I couldn't find a single typo in the copy. They even spelled "expatriate" correctly!
(If you haven't seen a copy, you can sign up for free delivery at figwestchester.com)

Herstory

I'm looking forward to "The Real Housewives of Kennett Square" walking tour on Thursday, June 27. It's one of this summer's county-wide "Town Tours and Village Walks" and is sponsored by the borough's Historical Commission. It's free!
"Guides will lead visitors through the Borough to hear costumed actors reveal the roles that women played at different periods in Kennett Square’s history. From nurses and teachers to poets and world travelers, these ladies were as educated and talented as their fathers, brothers and husbands," says a press release.
Starting at 5:30 p.m., tours will depart from the walkway east of the Genesis Building at State & Union Streets.
I've been going on these walking tours for years and they are really well done. You'll learn all kinds of interesting facts about places you drive or walk by frequently.

Dropping out

A spiritually minded friend writes that he will be spending his summer vacation (he's a professor) traveling and attending writers' retreats and meditation workshops in remote locales. "I plan to spend most of June, July, and August off-line," he says. "And yet, somehow, I will still exist—I think."
I'd have a hard time going unplugged. I would really miss e-mail and the Internet.

It's the law

Remember the item in last week's column about the smoky bar I visited in Honey Brook? A few people asked me how a bar could rate an exemption from the state's no-smoking law.
There are two ways, I found out. In both cases, the bar can't admit people under 18, it has to have signs posted at every door saying smoking is allowed, and it has to have "a valid restaurant liquor license or an eating place retail dispenser license." In the first type, food sales have to account for 20% or less of the establishment's total sales. In the second type, the bar area has to be separate from the eating area, and the food sales in that smoking area area have to account for 20% or less of total sales in the smoking area.

In another legislative quirk, I was surprised to see a purple-and-white "Classic Car" license plate on a not-especially-old Ford Explorer the other day and wondered what exactly the definition was. According to the PennDOT website: "Classic Motor Vehicle - A motor vehicle, but not a reproduction thereof, manufactured at least 15 years prior to the current year, which has been maintained in or restored to a condition, which is substantially in conformity with manufacturer specifications and appearance." To be considered an "Antique Motor Vehicle," the same applies, except it has to be more than 25 years old.