MUSHROOM DROP: What goes down, must go up?

My readers are such a creative and articulate bunch. One wrote to me this week to say how pleased she was with the Mushroom Festival, and then she went on to think about the upcoming New Year's Eve Mushroom Drop:

"But - here's a question to ponder.  Why does our Mushroom have to Drop? 

Wouldn't it be great if the powerful Mushroom could ascend and rise (85 feet above the Square) and with it, all our community hearts and watchful eyes as we lead upward and lift our spirits (precisely at the stroke of midnight) and begin a New Year?  They must have to raise it only to make it drop right?  So, it could be an annual Mushroom Rise - Only in Kennett Square!
Gosh, reading all the news that is news in our world of [2015], do I really want to watch something else drop?  I have to wonder if I'm not the only one wishing for a little lift of conventions."

What do you think? In dramatic terms, there's a certain resolution of tension to seeing the mushroom land at the intersection of State and Union Street. It's on the ground; it can go no farther. Would that ending point be as definitive at the top of the crane? A friend suggests an outside-the-box solution:  as the mushroom reaches the apex, it could close an electrical circuit, triggering a fireworks display.

AN OLD SONG: Deconstructing "I found her diary underneath a tree"

Remember the 1972 song by the band Bread called "Diary"? It's a sentimental ballad about a guy who finds his girlfriend's diary under a tree and starts reading about how much in love she is with a wonderful guy. Warm fuzzies: until he gets to the end and discovers she's actually writing about another boy. Ouch.
Back in the day, we all felt sorry for the guy, who was noble and self-sacrificing enough to give up his girl and even wish her well with her soulmate.
Four of us were sitting outside the aerobics room the other day putting on our shoes after Yoga/Pilates class, and the instructor of the next class started playing her music. "Diary" came on.
"Wow, I remember that song!" said I.
Another fellow did, too. "Yeah," he said. "That cheating hussy! Isn't that just like a woman!"
"Hey!" I retorted. "He was the one reading her diary!"
"Maybe she left it there for him," suggested another.
Funny, in junior high we never considered passive-aggressive behavior. Interpretation of lyrics has certainly changed with forty years of interpersonal experience.

BAD BEHAVIOR: I couldn't believe what I was seeing

In the past few days I've witnessed two incidents of bad behavior.
We were coming out of a local restaurant after dinner on Wednesday night, and a young couple followed shortly after us. They got to their car, and the woman walked around to the front of it and squatted down.
I couldn't believe what I was seeing and tried to craft an alternative explanation other than the obvious: Perhaps she was checking a headlight. Perhaps there was a clump of mud on the grille.
Nope. She stood up, pulled up her pants and got into the car. The man with her wasn't fazed at all.
Now, we've all had emergency situations where you need to improvise. But this wasn't one of them.
They didn't appear impaired in any way. She showed no signs of urgency, distress or pregnancy. The restaurant's bathrooms were functional and there wasn't a line.
Why would you relieve yourself in a brightly lit parking lot, mere feet from Route 1, rather than using the restaurant's bathroom? WHY?
I'm told that three friends spent most of their Saturday brunch discussing this crazy story. I feel sorry for the people at the table next to them, as I know how raucous they can get! And another friend told me that on Saturday she saw parents instructing their daughter to relieve herself -- right next to a Porta-Potty. Again: WHY?
And here is the second incident of bad public behavior. Today I was walking into one of our local grocery stores and a woman came out carrying a bunch of red roses. How sweet, I thought.
Nope again. In the cart lobby a fellow shopper told me she'd seen the woman walk into the store, grab the flowers and walk out without paying.
"Oh my gosh!" I exclaimed, and hurried back out to the parking lot to have words with her. She had disappeared, fortunately for her. I mean, not only is stealing wrong, but it raises the prices for the rest of us!

WEST MARLBOROUGH: New stone walls using a vintage design

Some West Marlborough neighbors are installing two lovely stone walls flanking their driveway. I've been watching the craftsmen from Steinbauten Artistry in Stone working through the stages from a ditch in the ground, through a cinderblock skeletons, to the stonework, mortar and decorative cones atop the pillars. They are making it look like it's been there for years rather than days.
The other morning as I was driving by I saw my friend Chuck Ginty consulting with the stone mason and stopped to chat. Chuck, a restoration specialist who focuses on historic properties (he is doing the mill at Blow Horn), told me that the house was designed by Philadelphia architect Arthur Ingersoll Meigs. Chuck managed to track down photos of a gate at another Meigs property and had it replicated here.
Meigs (Princeton class of 1903) was known for "country residences designed in styles which were popular at the time, i.e., the Pennsylvania farmhouse, the Cotswold, and the Norman farmhouse styles. Meigs's family and social connections aided in their gaining clients both in the residential field and for clubs, such as the Princeton Charter Club and the Radnor Hunt Club," according to the Philadelphia Architects and Buildings website.

SENIOR LIVING: Scout & Gilbert & Oboe & a chicken

Sept. 15 was "Pet Day" at Brandywine Senior Living in Kennett, and my friend Susan, whose parents live there, asked me to bring my guinea pig, Gilbert, for a sort of show-and-tell.
So I put Gilbert in the little traveling carrier that the Chester County SPCA gave me when I adopted him (he barely fits into it now) and I packed a bag of baby carrots, and we headed over to Susan's farm. She had gotten up before daybreak to catch one of her chickens, which was sitting in a cage in the back of the pickup. She already had the horse trailer hitched up and loaded Scout without delay. I put Gilbert at my feet in the truck and we set off for the retirement home.
It was a beautiful sunny day, and the patio was soon full of residents eager to see our animals and hear our presentations (I hadn't been told in advance that I was supposed to make a presentation, but hey, whatever!). Susan had called in some kind of a major favor with someone else, too, because Adam, the huntsman from her foxhunting club (Andrews Bridge), agreed to show up in his full regalia, with "Oboe," one of their Penn-Marydel foxhounds.
Adam gave a great presentation about foxhunting and blew some of the calls on his horn (Scout looked up immediately, as if to say "Hey! I know that sound!").
Then Susan talked about her chicken, providing all kinds of graphic details about how exactly hens produce eggs (what can you do when a resident asks "So what's the rooster for?") and showing the different-colored eggs that the different breeds produce.
Then I wrapped Gilbert in a white towel, gave him a carrot to munch on, and spoke a little bit about him. Then I took him around and let the residents stroke him, which he bore with great patience. It brought tears to my eyes when I saw the love that the seniors lavished on the little critter. Several asked me to repeat how old he was, and what guinea pigs' life spans were.
One resident couldn't quite pronounce "Gilbert" and gave his name a definite French flavor that I think he quite liked. Another fellow, who I think must be on a restricted diet, asked me what Gilbert ate. I told him I feed him salad twice a day.
"Huh!" the man grumbled. "He'd fit right in here."
Scout stayed in his trailer, but the residents who were able went up to him and fed him carrots and apples. By the end of the afternoon Scout was actually full and showed no interest in eating any more carrots -- a rare event!
I can't speak for Oboe, Scout, the chicken and Gilbert, but Susan and I had a great time, and I hope we were able to provide the residents with a diverting afternoon.
P.S. What a sweet comment I got on this post: "A special place in Heaven awaits those who visit senior care facilities and amuse the residents, especially in the dementia units. On behalf of someone who has a family member in one, infinite and immense thanks."

Scout was tired of carrots and apples by the end of the day!

Oboe makes friends with some of the front-row residents.

Susan talks about the care and feeding of her chickens.

Gilbert and Laurel eye each other warily.

THE FAIR: The seventh annual Denim & Diamonds fundraiser

Unionville Community Fair & Farm Show president Danielle Chamberlain asked me to put in a plug for the Fair's annual fundraising Event, "Denim & Diamonds," which is coming up on Thursday, Oct. 1, from 6:30 to 10 p.m. As always, it is held on the Fair grounds in the Red Barn, where all the exhibits are displayed. I attend this great party every year so I can visit with my Fair friends and see whether my entries have won any ribbons (my friends know this, and I'm now also responsible for texting them about how their eggs, flowers and vegetables fared).
Instead of being provided by just one caterer, this year's Denim & Diamonds party will feature food from a variety of local restaurants and vineyards. There will also be music, and the homemade beer and wine exhibits will be judged.
More information and tickets ($75, down from the previous years' $100) are available through the Fair's website, www.ucfairinc.org.
And don't forget, the 91st Fair is coming up Oct. 2 through 4. I've seen stacks of catalogs ready for pickup at the Unionville Post Office 91st and Foxy Loxy.

UNIONVILLE: A mini-library thrives on a front porch

"Books are my thing," says Rutgers English professor, model, writer and horsewoman Shanyn Fiske. Stacks of books fill her living room, and even though she has lived in her Unionville house for two years, she says she has dozens of boxes still to unpack.
In fact, she loves books so much that she has started a mini-lending library housed in two metal cabinets on her porch at 1652 West Doe Run Road (two houses north of Hood's BBQ in "downtown" Unionville). Anyone is welcome to stop by and take books and replace them with others. On Sunday morning, the shelves were full of everything from romances to thrillers to "Star Wars" books. I swapped two mysteries and a children's book for a big book of Sudoku puzzles.
Shanyn, a charming, enthusiastic woman, sees her library as only a first step: she dreams of starting a community group to discuss literature. For now, though, "I just want people to come up on my porch." She suggests parking on the opposite side of Route 82 at the URA fields.
Thank you to Sunny, who rides with Shanyn, for introducing us!

The mini-library is stocked with a wide array of books. The flowers are from a well-wisher.

English professor Shanyn Fiske welcomes people to visit her porch.

 

 

 

 

 

SUNFLOWERS: Acres of green and yellow near Willowdale

The spectacular expanse of sunflowers on Route 926 at Walnut Road drew crowds of visitors and photographers this weekend. Although most of the tourists stayed at the edge of the field, I saw a few people taking selfies several rows in. One fellow was even piloting a drone over the field, which should produce some amazing shots. The best shot I've seen was taken by my friend Mary, who took a beautiful photo of one sunflower that towered over the rest: "Rising above the crowd" was her caption.