SimplyLife

My uncle Cecil was my favorite childhood storyteller. I sat mesmerized listening to his adventures of growing up on a farm and the funny scrapes he got himself into.  One of his best tales happened at school, a one room schoolhouse just outside the Village of Castile.  It seems that he was in charge of getting the wood fire going in the morning, so he had to arrive extra early to accomplish the task. One cold winter morning, he loaded the old stove with wood and soon had the usual hot fire going. However, a delinquent type student arrived there well ahead of him one morning and  liberally smeared Limburger cheese inside the stove. As the heat increased so did the smell. The teacher was not happy and immediately punished my poor uncle. I believe school was dismissed for the day until the stove could be cleaned. Uncle Cecil also lost his early morning job, but I don't think it bothered him a whole lot. The culprit wasn't apprehended, so it remains a mystery to this day. The rea

The West has captured our hearts, but there are a handful of events, foods, etc. from New York that make us a little homesick. This time of year it's certainly not the cold and snow, but the maple syrup. Although real syrup is available in the grocery store, it's made in Northwest and not the Northeast. No, I'm not talking about the row of corn syrup products on the shelf, but bona fide maple syrup. If you were a kid back in the 60s or earlier  the sight of tin roof covered buckets on sugar maples was a common sight during February in Western New York. I remember a local family who borrowed trees to collect the thin, clear sap that would eventually turn into sweet amber syrup.  A big farm wagon and tractor would pull up to the neighborhood (a rural dairy farming neighborhood) loaded with buckets and taps or spiles.  A mallet quickly drove the metal spile into the tree and bucket would then be hung to collect a steady drip of maple sap. Big maples usually had two or thre

Today we received a package in the mail from our grandsons.  As you might guess, it was filled with special drawings, just for Grandpa and Grandma. There were also photos from their latest adventure at Busch Gardens. Obviously they'll go on the refrigerator to be proudly displayed for quite sometime. We're always happy to receive these special packages of drawings or get them hot off the press when we visit.  They warm a grandparent's heart. The crayon drawings are also reminders of years past, when their mom and aunt provided a steady stream for the refrigerator gallery. Back then, I wondered how I would be able to get them all on the door. Teachers must plot to overload parents with all sorts of assignments that require display at home and not at school. Of course, each one is quite special and better than their sister's, thus it demands the center of the refrigerator door.Whether a drawing or a spelling test with a perfect score, it has to be on the appliance mar

A familar sight around town is a homeless man who pushes an overloaded grocery cart.  He's got problems with mental illness and his family has given up on him. The man has refused to stay on medication that will help him and he prefers to live on the streets.  Over time the contents of the grocery cart he pushes have grown.  I'm not sure what's in it, but he's decorated it with colorful flags and tattered bits tied to wooden poles. The cart is never far away from him. Pushing it requires all his might, but he perseveres. As I watched him struggle with the cart the other day on the sidewalk, he was bent completely over pushing the cart holding all his worldly possessions. It seems the whole focus of his world is the cart with the stuff. We may feel sorry for the man and how sad his life must be, but aren't we the same?  We carry the burdens of seeking wealth and success. Or we may carry tremendous loads of guilt over past sins. There are burdens of self-righteous

Last week, I bought one of those mini greenhouses that you start seedlings in. It's always exciting to push  seeds into the tiny peat pots and dream about the harvest to come. I haven't always had the greatest luck and with these setups, usually because I lose interest and become negligent over time. What kind of gardener is that? Answer: a lazy one. So I'm trying to turn over a new leaf, if you'll pardon the pun and really pay attention to those little tomatoes that have peeked their heads out of the soil. I do have such high hopes for fried green tomatoes, BLT's, salads, salsa, and fat slices drizzled with balsamic vinegar, topped with fresh mozzarella.   The planting schedule for them will be early April. That seems a long ways off, but not really. What kind of seeds are you starting now? It might be too early for your area, so you might be dreaming about the ideal garden as you thumb through the gardening catalogues. Count the cost of the kind of