I had bariatric surgery in 2008 and afterward, I came across a small book, Food Rules, that contained a list of very simple, easy to follow, tips for managing one’s weight. A couple of examples is, never order French fries. If you want fries, go to the trouble to do the work, make the mess, and clean it all up. Another is, nothing good for you comes through a drive-thru window.
Anyway, I love books like that. You learn valuable things and you don’t have to tie yourself to reading thousand-page textbooks.
It’s been a little teary-eyed around here lately. I’ve noticed that as a part of aging I find myself experiencing periods of sadness more frequently and I’m sure it’s attributable to witnessing the normalcy or familiarity of life fading away. I don’t know who the popular entertainers are, I couldn’t tell you the name of a professional baseball player, I don’t know what a “Karen” is, and I’ll never understand why anyone would give up beer in favor of flavored seltzer water.
Sunday I watched a PBS documentary about Jewish-Americans who fought in the American military during World War II. So many were first-generation immigrants whose families had escaped the horrors of Hitler’s Europe only to find themselves fighting to free the very places their families had fled from.
Orange of the White House got into one of his shit storms on Twitter yesterday and raved that Noble Journalism Prize recipients should return their journalism prizes to the Noble Committee. Upon being told by one of his caretakers that there was no such thing as a Noble Prize he deleted the tweet but not fast enough. The Internet works much faster than Trump and his latest stupidity was found out.
A learned person would know that there is the Nobel Prize and it has nothing to do with journalism. The journalism prize is the Pulitzer Prize. There are a variety of Nobel Prizes in various areas of science and literature and a Pulitzer Prize for Journalism. Trump will never possess either to hang on his wall next to that Purple Heart he will never have.
This caught my attention on the nightly news a few days ago but I wasn’t sure I got the facts correct. The news item had to do with fast-food restaurants and how they are doing with no dine-in business.
If you’ve ever tried to get down Jefferson Street in Greenfield at any rush hour you know that McDonald’s drive-thru window may be the
The thing today, especially with the virus threatening our ever move, is home delivery of groceries and the pick and click services offered by chains like Walmart and Kroger’s.
We’ve successfully completed a click and pick at Kroger’s and just submitted another. We had to wait several days for our turn and didn’t get all we ordered. But the pickup was clean, safe, and quick. I pulled into the appropriate parking space, an attendant asked through the window for my name, and in a few minutes, they returned from the building with our order, which they quickly and neatly placed in the back of the mini-van.
In January of 2012, my brother Joe and his wife Ruby, Elzia and Carol Hicks, and my wife Janet and I spent a couple of days in New Orleans before embarking on a seven-day Caribbean cruise. Of all the places we ate the one we liked best was a legendary chicken joint called Willie Mae’s Scotch House in the Treme neighborhood.
I don’t know if I ever shared this but several years ago I got interested in making primitive stringed instruments from mostly found objects like cigar boxes and tin cans.
When Blake’s Coffee Shop was demolished I scavenged through the debris looking for pieces I could incorporate into primitive stringed instruments. I ended up making three instruments from what I found, a one-string diddley bow, three-string lap steel, and six-string lap steel. I kept the six-stringed lap steel but gave the others away. One may have gone to the Greenfield Historical Society.
We’ve fed the birds in our woods for decades. But, this winder we decided to put out some corn in hopes of drawing the squirrels in. We have a large heard this season and they are great fun to watch.
So, I stopped at Tractor #and brought home a corn feeder, a 50# bag of shelled corn, and a bag of eared corn. Long story short, so far the squirrels have totally ignored it. I see them run down the tree and a few minutes run back up; showing no interest in the goodies offered. My only theory is that the corn feeder is hanging on a hickory tree and there’s got to be lots of hickory nuts on the ground that the squirrels prefer over corn.
I’m really not sure but I think these photos are from the first McClain All-Class Reunion that was held during the summer of 1999. The Clyburns permitted the temporary conversion of their restaurant into a make-shift Penny’s and it quickly became a major gathering place during the weekend. The Penn family loaned the
We’ve fed the birds for years and have loved every penny we’ve spent on suet and black oil sunflower seeds. Close at hand is a Roger Tory Peterson Field Guide and every species that shows up gets noted with the day and year it first appeared at our feeders. I’m pretty sure that if it weren’t for bar hopping, I could have gotten into bird watching as a hobby when I was younger.
I know that for many Christmas is a Christian religious holiday. But it is also a time that has important meaning to non-Christians. It is a time for family, for love, a time for remembrance, a time for joy, and a time to renew one’s commitment to helping make a better and more peaceful world. So, whatever Christmas means to you, to all a Merry Christmas and a joyous Season’s Greeting from the Chapman family.