Snarkiness, ad hominem insults, "spin" and just plain meanness for the sake of meanness are certainly nothing new, but in today's world of social media, sometimes they can get really depressing. When that happens, I try to take a step back and notice the good stuff.
Like a teenager who, yesterday at the Kennett Y, was in a hurry and accidentally bumped into me. She stopped. She looked me in the eye. She said, "Excuse me!" (And she didn't even add "Ma'am," bless her heart.)
And last week, I was driving around looking at storm damage and, on a nearby back road, was taking a photo of some hard-working utility guys cutting branches and fixing downed wires. A local mushroom farmer pulled up, unloaded two big boxes of beautiful, just-picked mushrooms from his truck and took them over to the workers as a thank-you present.
Even I tried to get in on the act. I saw a woman wearing one of those horizontally striped, knit maxi-dresses that seem so popular this summer. As tough as that look is to pull off (stripes? knit? I ask you!), she succeeded brilliantly. I went up to her and told her she looked fabulous. She was stunned (I hope in a good way).
There is hope yet.
Saturday, July 12, 2014
Downton Abbey show
The July 9 edition of the Wall Street Journal had a review ("Upstairs Timelessness, Downstairs Precision") about the Downton Abbey exhibit at Winterthur. "What makes this exhibition special is the added dimension that Winterthur brings to it," writes Laura Jacobs. "While delineating early-20th-century life in the fictional Downtown Abbey, the curators tell of a parallel life, during the same years, at Winterthur."
I loved the exhibit, and at lunch at Philter few weeks ago I was telling a friend about it, perhaps a bit too loudly. The woman at the next table came over to us and apologized for interrupting but said she simply had to say how much she, too, enjoyed the show.
Blogs
Two new blogs have come to my attention and might interest you.
The first is "Vegging at the Shore" (www.veggingattheshore.com) by Marci Schwartz Lutsky (a family member of mine). Marci introduces her blog by saying: "I have spent the past three and half years taking care of twins. Full-time. All the time. They are the most amazing gifts we have ever been given, but as they get older, I’m finding myself ready to spend my limited free time on other things. Since I love food, cooking and talking endlessly about both, a blog seemed like the perfect idea."
The other is a fashion blog by a chic local woman named Lindsay who apparently really, REALLY likes Lilly Pulitzer clothes. It's called "Cheshire Hunt Fashion" (www.cheshire-hunt.blogspot.com).
The first is "Vegging at the Shore" (www.veggingattheshore.com) by Marci Schwartz Lutsky (a family member of mine). Marci introduces her blog by saying: "I have spent the past three and half years taking care of twins. Full-time. All the time. They are the most amazing gifts we have ever been given, but as they get older, I’m finding myself ready to spend my limited free time on other things. Since I love food, cooking and talking endlessly about both, a blog seemed like the perfect idea."
The other is a fashion blog by a chic local woman named Lindsay who apparently really, REALLY likes Lilly Pulitzer clothes. It's called "Cheshire Hunt Fashion" (www.cheshire-hunt.blogspot.com).
Friday, July 11, 2014
London Grove Oak in National Geo!
So I'm sitting in a comfy leather chair at Foxy Loxy on Friday afternoon, totally in the zone, proofreading a hard-copy world cultures book while listening to mind-focusing yoga music. I'm making great progress.
Then the email signal on my smartphone bings, and it's a loyal "Unionville in the News" reader informing me that AT THAT VERY MOMENT two "National Geographic" photographers are at London Grove Friends Meeting making photos of the Penn Oak.
In a matter of seconds I'd removed my earbuds and shuffled together my stack of papers and was on my way to the meetinghouse. There I met the very nice husband-and-wife team of Diane Cook and Len Jenshel, who are doing a story for the magazine on "wise trees." The assignment has taken the New York-based couple to India, Mexico and Ground Zero in Manhattan, where they shot the "survivor" Callery pear tree that lived through the 9/11 disaster.
They wanted to include London Grove's Penn Oak not only for its majesty but also because it was a witness to William Penn's requirement that Pennsylvania settlers preserve one acre of trees for every five acres cleared. They said they planned to photograph the tree at dusk Friday and dawn Saturday -- they scheduled the shoot to coincide with the full moon. (For my photographer friends: They were using Nikon D800 bodies, which "are good for working at night," said Diane. A few years ago they shot the night-blooming plants at Longwood Gardens.)
Diane said the publication date for the story keeps changing, but they think it's scheduled for the August 2015 issue.
Then the email signal on my smartphone bings, and it's a loyal "Unionville in the News" reader informing me that AT THAT VERY MOMENT two "National Geographic" photographers are at London Grove Friends Meeting making photos of the Penn Oak.
In a matter of seconds I'd removed my earbuds and shuffled together my stack of papers and was on my way to the meetinghouse. There I met the very nice husband-and-wife team of Diane Cook and Len Jenshel, who are doing a story for the magazine on "wise trees." The assignment has taken the New York-based couple to India, Mexico and Ground Zero in Manhattan, where they shot the "survivor" Callery pear tree that lived through the 9/11 disaster.
They wanted to include London Grove's Penn Oak not only for its majesty but also because it was a witness to William Penn's requirement that Pennsylvania settlers preserve one acre of trees for every five acres cleared. They said they planned to photograph the tree at dusk Friday and dawn Saturday -- they scheduled the shoot to coincide with the full moon. (For my photographer friends: They were using Nikon D800 bodies, which "are good for working at night," said Diane. A few years ago they shot the night-blooming plants at Longwood Gardens.)
Diane said the publication date for the story keeps changing, but they think it's scheduled for the August 2015 issue.
Swans
My longtime friend Linda was nice enough to send me this sweet photo of a swan family crossing Route 926 at the Traditions development. Traditions resident Suze told me that she and her neighbors see the family often: "They live in the pond in our community and their names are Frick and Frack. We feed and care for them, but they like to visit other ponds, too. We lost an adult a few years ago just like this....crossing the road."
Thursday, July 10, 2014
Car talk
Twice in the space of four hours I saw a bumper sticker "i drive naked" -- once at Union and Cypress Streets in Kennett, the other time on a different car leaving Anson Nixon Park! What's going on? Will we soon have big-city journalists visiting and writing about a nascent trend starting in what they call "sleepy" Chester County?
I was also all set to grouse about the First World problem of sloppy parking in downtown Kennett -- as I drove through on July 9 one big black vehicle (with a trailer hitch, no less!) was jutting out well beyond the lines, reducing State Street to essentially one lane -- but when I drove through today, all the cars were as neatly lined up as a well-disciplined marching band. State Street actually looked like one of those idealized renderings that architects draw up of the parking lots at shopping centers or office buildings.
I was also all set to grouse about the First World problem of sloppy parking in downtown Kennett -- as I drove through on July 9 one big black vehicle (with a trailer hitch, no less!) was jutting out well beyond the lines, reducing State Street to essentially one lane -- but when I drove through today, all the cars were as neatly lined up as a well-disciplined marching band. State Street actually looked like one of those idealized renderings that architects draw up of the parking lots at shopping centers or office buildings.
Municipal matters
Old-school reporters like me still scan the small-print "legal notices" in the classified ads on the remote chance that an interesting municipal ordinance is being proposed. Occasionally our compulsion is rewarded, like earlier today when I saw that the borough of Kennett Square is revising its "animals and fowl" regulations. They are redefining "fowl," "livestock" and "run at large" and adding a subsection "regulations for the keeping of fowl." I'm assuming this is in response to residents' concerns about neighbors raising chickens in some parts of the borough. Borough council will be holding a hearing on the matter at the Red Clay Room starting at 7 p.m. Monday, July 21.
In another municipal note, a fellow reporter who covered a local township meeting recently told me how surprised he was to see one of the township supervisors wearing a polo shirt and shorts instead of his customary business suit. "For anybody else, it would be like they walked into a meeting wearing a Speedo," he explained.
In another municipal note, a fellow reporter who covered a local township meeting recently told me how surprised he was to see one of the township supervisors wearing a polo shirt and shorts instead of his customary business suit. "For anybody else, it would be like they walked into a meeting wearing a Speedo," he explained.
The Melton Brothers
Once again the Weather Channel icon on my phone glowed red and thunderstorms were predicted for the Wednesday evening concert at Anson Nixon Park in Kennett. And once again the storms didn't materialize. The Melton Brothers Band (along with a Melton son on keyboards for a few numbers) played a terrific set, including "I Call Your Name," "Don't Get Around Much Anymore" and a silly song about nuking chicken. Bob Beach on harmonica and vocals was terrific.
Perhaps waiting to see what the weather would do, people arrived late (which means they missed chiropractor Chad Laurence's spirited introduction of the band). And instead of arriving in groups, I noticed that people arrived one by one, the first member of the part setting up camp and then waving vigorously to signal to the others as they showed up.
This was my first time parking in the new lot at the park, near the tennis courts, where a crumbling maintenance shed used to stand. It's good solid gravel footing, although I did hear a sandal-wearing woman say she wished she had worn sneakers.
Perhaps waiting to see what the weather would do, people arrived late (which means they missed chiropractor Chad Laurence's spirited introduction of the band). And instead of arriving in groups, I noticed that people arrived one by one, the first member of the part setting up camp and then waving vigorously to signal to the others as they showed up.
This was my first time parking in the new lot at the park, near the tennis courts, where a crumbling maintenance shed used to stand. It's good solid gravel footing, although I did hear a sandal-wearing woman say she wished she had worn sneakers.
Mile-a-minute
I had an all-too-close encounter the other day on a stream bank with "mile-a-minute weed" (Persicaria perfoliata). This invasive, noxious vined has barbs that enable it to climb and overwhelm trees, shrubs and basically everything in the vicinity. Said barbs ripped up the back of my right hand (another nickname for the vine is "tear-thumb," how true) and for a few days after the incident the clawed-looking area felt rough and just weird, like after you touch a stinging nettle.
The vine, which can grow up to six inches a day, is a native of the Far East but got a foothold here in American somewhere around 1940 when a curious nursery owner in Stewartstown, York County, let it grow. "It is speculated that the seed was spread with Rhododendron stock," Wikipedia tells us.
Speaking of noxious vines, my season-long efforts to inhibit the growth of wild grapevines have had, uh, limited success. I thought that perhaps promptly amputating the tendrils at their home nodule with my Fiskars would discourage them. Not so; perversely, it seems to spur them on to further offensive efforts ("we'll show her!"). Instead of attacking them individually, I've been reduced to just hacking them back en masse at the perimeter of the garden.
The vine, which can grow up to six inches a day, is a native of the Far East but got a foothold here in American somewhere around 1940 when a curious nursery owner in Stewartstown, York County, let it grow. "It is speculated that the seed was spread with Rhododendron stock," Wikipedia tells us.
Speaking of noxious vines, my season-long efforts to inhibit the growth of wild grapevines have had, uh, limited success. I thought that perhaps promptly amputating the tendrils at their home nodule with my Fiskars would discourage them. Not so; perversely, it seems to spur them on to further offensive efforts ("we'll show her!"). Instead of attacking them individually, I've been reduced to just hacking them back en masse at the perimeter of the garden.
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