Postcard: Mamma to Mrs. Henry Link, August 1913

Kind of on the subject of picnics, I wanted to share with you a picture postcard from 1913. I found it at a flea market in northern Ohio several years ago. It was just so intriguing, full of people who are all long dead, but they’ve been having so much fun, because they’re having a picnic meal together out in the woods somewhere.

Maybe it’s a family reunion. I understand that people used to get together in the teens and twenties for camping trips. Photographers often brought their equipment with them into the woods and made picture postcards for everyone. Sue read about it in old issues of American Photography magazine (she went through a period of reading a bunch of issues of it from the early 1900s). (You can find issues online.)

The card is from “Mamma,” who apparently lived in Milan, Ohio, but was on a trip to Clare, Michigan; she sent it to her daughter, Mrs. Henry Link, who lived in Bellevue, Ohio. I'm providing a transcription of the simple message, below.

Clair, Michigan, was probably a nice, cool place to go camping in August 1913.

One of the nice things about digital images is that you can zoom in on stuff and see things without having to use a magnifying glass and squint. So I’m providing some closeups for you, so you can enjoy this picture better.

To Mrs. Henry Link
Bellevue, Ohio
R. D. No. 3

Postmark: Clare, Mich., 7 PM 18 Aug 1913

Clare [Michigan] 8.18.1913

Dear Daughter

Earns came today we expect to start tomorrow for Milan can’t tell just when we will get home. We have had rain yesterday north of hear it rained very hard the rain just divided & went around we are all well hope you are getting along all right you can call Rob & tell him

Lovingly, Mamma

Mrs. Ferber’s Spice Cookies

It’s Advent and time for a Christmas cookie recipe! This is an all-time favorite of Sue’s family, and the recipe comes from Sue’s mom. It’s one of those cookies you can’t have Christmas without.

Mrs. F is currently in a rehab facility after recently falling in her assisted living apartment. So this year, since we’re in Ohio to be with her, I’m baking these cookies in Mrs. Ferber’s own kitchen.

At some point, after we get back to Missouri, I’ll be shipping these and other cookies to family and friends on my cookie gift list.

Note that these will be quite soft when you take them out of the oven. They will become crisp and firm when they cool. These are best when they are both crunchy and slightly chewy. If they turn out slightly too crispy, store them in a sealed tin with half an apple wrapped in some wax paper—that’ll fix the texture.

You will probably want to double this recipe, because everyone will want some.

3/4 cup shortening
1 cup brown sugar
1 egg
1/4 cup molasses (such as Brer Rabbit)
2 cups flour
2 tsp. baking soda
1/4 tsp. salt
1 tsp. cinnamon
3/4 tsp. ground cloves
3/4 tsp. dried, ground ginger

Mix dough and chill. Roll it into balls the size of walnuts. Dip in a bowl of granulated sugar and place 2 inches apart on a greased (or parchment-lined) cookie sheet. Bake at 375°F for about 8 minutes. Makes about 60 cookies.

Berardi’s Restaurant, Huron, Ohio

One of my favorite restaurants anywhere is Berardi’s Restaurant in Huron, Ohio, just about a fifteen-minutes’ drive north from where Sue grew up. It’s a restaurant with a long history in northern Ohio. It started in 1942 as a French fry stand at Sandusky’s world-famous amusement park, Cedar Point. In 1978, the park stopped allowing independent food concessionaires on its property, so Berardi’s opened a sit-down restaurant in nearby Huron in 1979. (There is another Berardi’s Restaurant in Sandusky, which opened in 1978; it has a slightly different, more Italian-focused menu.) Both are run by third and/or fourth-generation members of the Berardi family. The service is exceptional, even when it’s busy.

Although what I’m about to crow about focuses on traditional and ethnic dishes, I should point out that Berardi’s in Huron keeps it fresh by offering a variety of newer, healthier dishes, like a quinoa breakfast, gluten-free options, fruit and nut salad, grilled salmon and asparagus salad, chicken or tuna salad fruit plates, breakfast options with lots of veggies, and lots more.

I’ve been visiting with Sue’s family in northern Ohio since 1994, and it wasn’t until May 9, 2013, that I finally got to have a meal at Berardi’s. We’d been driving past the place for ages, and I’d always wondered what it was like in there. Hmm. Look at all those cars in the parking lot; that place must be good! One afternoon, when we were sitting around wondering what to do for a meal, I said, “How about that place up by Cornell’s—Berardi’s, or whatever?” They were like, “Oh, yeah. We could go there.” Then they were surprised: “Wait, you’ve never been there? We’ve never taken you to Berardi’s???”

I think Sue’s family had somehow forgotten it existed. Maybe they thought it was too snooty (Sue’s dad had an aversion to cloth-napkin, “fancy” places), or too pricey? . . . But it really isn’t. And it’s got something for everyone. Anyhow, we went; we were all delighted; and so we’ve been going back since then. It’s become a favorite place for the whole family to get together. Whether for breakfast, lunch, or supper, Sue and I try to find a way to dine there at least once per trip.

Indeed, Sue’s family came to realize that Berardi’s is one of my “happy places.” One year when we were in Ohio for my birthday, they conspired to surprise me with a trip to Berardi’s. (I could tell from a mile away that’s where we were heading, but I played along. Surprise! Sue’s mom and dad were so pleased to see me happy! Yayyy! Ber-aaarrrrr-di’s!!)

There are so many interesting dishes at Berardi’s. It’s basically a homestyle cooking restaurant—Americana—but it’s certainly different than what a similar restaurant here in Missouri would offer.

• There’s a lot more seafood (which makes me ponder that many Missourians, indeed, are skeptical of seafood, unless it’s fried catfish). Especially, being less than a mile south of the Lake Erie shore, Berardi’s proudly offers the tasty fresh yellow perch and walleye so famous from that body of water.
• There are a lot of Italian dishes, served matter-of-factly, because the ethnic Italian Berardis are surrounded by plenty of other Italian-derived people in the area, so this is just good home-cookin’, not “ethnic” food from a “foreign land,” like it is so often in Missouri. (In Missouri, we serve southern food and barbecue, like cornmeal-breaded fried catfish and BBQ porksteaks, as if it were normal food that everyone eats everywhere.)
• Likewise, there are a lot of eastern European dishes that we rarely see here in Missouri. Sauerkraut balls, pierogis, and haluski (cabbage and noodles with kielbasa), chief among them. You may also encounter specials like stuffed bell peppers and cabbage rolls.
• Of the straight-up Americana dishes, I have to note that liver and onions is on the menu; also a tuna melt, a “mile-high meatloaf,” and an open-faced roast beef and gravy sandwich. The latter two were big favorites of Sue’s dad. These old-fashioned blue-plate diner dishes have pretty much disappeared from around here in Missouri.
• Berardi’s is also famous for its homemade pies and cookies. Lots of people get these to go; they beckon to you from a cold case near the entryway.

I won’t go into the whole menu; you can look that up online. But I do want to mention a few favorite dishes—especially things we can’t get around here in Missouri.

• The famous Berardi’s French fries. “Thick, hand cut, made to order.” Many people enjoy these with a bit of malt vinegar, but good-ol’ ketchup is also perfect. These are exactly the same as they were made at Cedar Point back in the day. Sue says they taste exactly the same. A blast from the past! The only difference is that now they’re served on plates instead of in a paper cone like they did at Cedar Point.
• Sauerkraut balls. “Hand breaded and stuffed with cream cheese, sauerkraut, and sausage. Served with bistro sauce.” We here in Missouri are missing out on a beautiful thing by not having sauerkraut balls. These are so good, they’re available everywhere in northern Ohio. Like, at bars. Even at goofy golf places, soft-serve ice cream stands, and bowling alleys. You hear that, German-heritage Missourians? Sauerkraut balls are so delicious, they’re even served at bowling alleys. At bow-ling-al-leys!. Naturally, the ones at Berardi’s are in a higher class, having been made fresh instead of prepackaged frozen things supplied by a food service.
• Potato knoephle and seafood bisque. These soups are always on the menu, and both are perfect. The knoephle (pronounced NEFF-luh, though they’ll know what you mean if you say NIP-fluh, NOP-fluh, K’nop-flee, K’neff-lee, or any other thing that sounds close) is a hearty, chicken-broth-based soup with potatoes, dumplings, and onions. The seafood bisque is creamy and velvety, with clams, shrimp, and lobster. They keep containers of these soups in a refrigerator next to the cash register, because so many people pick them up to go.
• Lake Erie yellow perch and Lake Erie walleye. Available as dinners or in sandwiches. Sue’s mom, who grew up on an island in Lake Erie, always gets the perch and relishes every single bite. Berardi’s fries it to perfection and serves it, as nature intended, with French fries and coleslaw.
• Pierogies. I’ll bet many Missourians have never heard of these. Pierogies (peer-OH-ghees) are like big, mild raviolis, stuffed with mashed potato and cheddar cheese. They’re boiled in water until cooked, then they are sautéed in butter and grilled onions and served with kielbasa and sour cream. Berardi’s serves them with a side of applesauce. It’s sort of like potato pancakes. Look for pierogies in the freezer section of supermarkets, or find recipes online. There are many traditional stuffings, including prunes, apples, cabbage, ham, sausage, bacon, sauerkraut, and more.
• Cabbage and noodles (haluski). My favorite! “Homemade cabbage and [egg] noodles topped with kielbasa and sour cream. Served with applesauce.” . . . And a piece of garlic toast. I honestly don’t want to know how much butter these are swimming in—I’ve seen traditional recipes online, and it frightens me. When I make it at home, I halve the amount of oil, and then use half olive oil and half butter. But eating at Berardi’s is a treat, and I relish every bite—which, given the ample serving, takes me about halfway through the dish. The rest of the meal comprises lunch the next day! It’s simple, hearty home cooking. So good!

While I’m at it, I should mention the joys of breakfast at Berardi’s. Until recently, we have never been there for breakfast, since we have always had breakfast made in the kitchen of Sue’s mother. (Did I mention how much she loves the Lake Erie yellow perch?)

But since she has moved into an assisted living place, Sue and I have occasionally gotten breakfast at Berardi’s. So a few comments are in order.

• First, you can order a wide variety of traditional breakfast foods—the old-fashioned heavy favorites such as sausage gravy on biscuits, the usual variety of steak and eggs, omelets, pancakes, sausage, bacon, homefries, corned beef hash, and even creamed chipped beef on toast.
• But there are a variety of newer, fresher, healthier ideas: bran muffins, an “oatmeal breakfast” with a choice of topping, fresh fruit, and a bran muffin,” “fresh fruit, yogurt, and muffin,” and quinoa patties. And here’s a nice idea: a breakfast called “the uno,” which has one of each: a single pancake or piece of French toast, a single egg cooked to order, and a single piece of bacon or sausage. Along the same lines, there’s also the “1-1-1,” where you get a single egg, a single piece of bacon or sausage link, and a single slice of toast and homefries. I love the idea of scaling down the quantity of the food while keeping the variety!
• If you visit Berardi’s for breakfast in the fall and early winter—during “pumpkin-spice-everything” season—I encourage you to get the pumpkin spice pancakes, because they’re the bomb! Tender, tasty, and buttery, “here for a limited time only.”
• Finally, the coffee at Berardi’s is organic and fair-trade.

What’s not to like about this place? I hope that if you ever find yourself in northern Ohio, that you make it a point to eat at one of the Berardi’s restaurants. I know you’ll love it!

Berardi’s Restaurant
218 Cleveland Rd. East
Huron, Ohio 44839
419-433-4123

Full disclosure: The owners of Berardi’s in Huron are personal friends of Sue’s niece, but though I’ve met them a few times and told them how much I adore their restaurant, I certainly don’t receive or expect personal favors from them. In their business, they know tons of people, and I’m sure I’m just another fan.

Aunt Margaret's Aluminum Christmas Tree

Greetings, and merry Christmas! I’ve already received one of my wishes: We put up Sue’s great aunt Margaret’s aluminum Christmas tree!



It hadn’t seen the light of day for several years—I can’t remember the last time we put it up. I bet it’s been fifteen years (I know we put it up one year soon after buying my grandma’s house). Like all old Christmas trees, it’s fragile.

And because the Weihnachtspyramide is such a big deal with my family (who live around here), and it “goes with” this house, it always gets priority. After all the cooking and baking, there’s never time left to put up the aluminum tree. And usually, we’re out of town at Christmas. . . . But we’re here this year, and I’ve put cookies on the back burner. (So to speak.)

(By the way, in this post I'm including pictures of the aluminum Christmas tree, its boxes, and its shiny ornaments, many of which are "new" but which we haven't seen since we last put it up, since they're in a box of "our" ornaments as opposed to my Grandma's boxes of ornaments.)

(See? MODERN! I'd totally forgotten about my purple fishie!)



But I’ve really missed Aunt Margaret’s tree!

Of course, there’s a story. And you want to hear it, right?

Aunt Margaret—Margaret Armina Ferber Nottke—was Sue’s great aunt, her dad’s father’s youngest sister. She was born September 23, 1903. She and her husband, William Hartman (“Stub”) Nottke, lived at 13 Mechanic Street in Berlin Heights, Ohio (where Sue’s sister, Lynn, and her family live today)—it’s just around the corner from Sue’s parents’ home.

To Sue and her siblings, “Aunt Margaret” was pretty much like a grandma, since she and “Uncle Stub” had been the primary guardians and parent-figures to Nelson Ferber, Sue’s dad. (More on that situation in my next post, if you’re interested.)

Because Margaret and Stub lived so close nearby, they could be close in many other ways, too. Here she is on the Ferber's side steps with Prince and Cinders.



So, back to the Christmas tree: Apparently, Sue’s mom and dad bought it in about 1964, when Sue was 7, Lynn 5, and Mark 2. I asked Sue where they got it, and she had to think. “I’m not sure! Maybe at the Giant Tiger? Or maybe at an appliance store. Or they could’ve bought it at a grocery store—grocery stores used to sell Christmas decorations like that. But probably they got it at a discount store . . . or Penney’s or Sears.”



And they got a super-duper box of shiny, lightweight ornaments at the same time—perfect for the tree. We still have that entire thing. I think only two ornaments are missing.





The ornaments have an unusual hook system.



And you can see why we really don't like to even touch these ornaments; they're so fragile.



So, we use mostly "modern" ornaments now:



Anyway, with such a delicate, fragile tree, one that can only hold lightweight, shiny, breakable ornaments, and whose branches can fall out if you merely brush against them . . . and with a mechanical spotlight spinner that went with it, and its fragile colored gels—this Christmas tree really wasn’t a good fit for a house with three young kids.



Can you imagine Sue’s mom trying to take care of three kids, make dinner, bake Christmas cookies, clean, AND tell the kids over and over not to touch the tree—?



At that point, Margaret and Stub weren’t putting up a Christmas tree (that Sue can remember, anyway), so Sue’s parents gave the tree to them. And that’s how it became “Aunt Margaret’s Christmas Tree.”

Sue says she always had it on her sunporch (which is now brother-in-law Gene’s TV room/library), just off of the living room. There was good morning light in there, with all the windows.

So if your de facto grandparents lived around the corner from you, you’d have some really sweet memories of their Christmas tree! And that’s how Sue and her brother and sister think of this tree: Aunt Margaret’s Christmas tree!

Their great uncle Stub died in early 1970s, but Margaret put the tree up every year until she went into a nursing home in the early 1980s. After Margaret’s death, Sue’s sister and brother-in-law bought Stub and Margaret’s home, which has put them in arm’s reach of Sue’s parents all these years. Their lucky daughter, Kaitlyn, got to grow up on the same block as her maternal grandparents!

Margaret had kept her Christmas tree and its ornaments in her attic. After she passed away, there was the inevitable process of “who wants what?” Apparently Lynn and Gene were wanting to clear out the attic. Sue wanted the tree, and I guess no one else expressed an interest, so it became hers.



Sue was living in St. Louis at the time. At this point, she can’t remember if her parents brought it to her on one of their visits, or if Sue herself drove it back after a visit to Ohio.

It’s a well-traveled tree! Sue remembers that once, in late 1980s, when she was working at Maritz in Fenton, the tree decorated the hallway of the South-Central Performance Improvement creative department. And she also displayed it in her house on 7542 Warner Avenue in Richmond Heights. I remember when she showed me a photo of it, soon after we met. Even in black and white, it looked spectacular.

So, when Sue joined me in Montana, the tree moved with her. Then, when we moved back to Missouri, the tree moved back with us. I know we set it up one of the years we lived in Columbia. (We were alternating: one year with a real tree, the next with the aluminum one.) Next, it made the trek from Como to Jeff City, where we put it up one of the first years we lived here, but then we either lacked the energy to put it up, or else we weren’t going to be here over Christmas, so why bother putting up TWO trees?



And between “squirrelly Early” (Earl was our hyper Russian blue) and Genji (then a rambunctious young puss-puss), it was just like the scenario at the Ferber household in the early sixties: we didn’t want to be constantly yelling at cats.

So, I got one of my Christmas wishes this year: We put up Aunt Margaret’s Christmas tree!

So far this year, to supplement the original spotlight spinner, we picked up one of those “shimmering effect” LED motion projectors, which people often use outdoors to beam groovy colors onto their homes. The original spotlight spinner is another nifty artifact from another time.



We’re being nice to the old spotlight by mostly using the new one on the tree, and it looks pretty nifty! We can “choose from 6 color options”! Red, red and green, blue, blue and red (which just looks pinkish to me), green, and green and blue (which makes me think of an aquarium). The gizmo even comes with a remote control, so I can sit in my chair and make it change colors.





Would Aunt Margaret’s like the new color projector? Who knows. . . . but I'd like to think she'd love it!

Early July Trip to Ohio

Get excited! I'm belatedly posting some pictures from our trip to visit Sue's family in northern Ohio!

This is Sable, who belongs to Sue's brother and his family (they were visiting from South Carolina). Sable's an incredibly well-behaved German shepherd. She sat quietly in the living room of Sue's parents. Outdoors, Sable chased woodchucks!

We were there for Independence Day, and this year instead of driving to see a professional pyrotechnics display in one of the nearby towns, we had fireworks in the driveway. Nothing big--you can't buy fireworks in Ohio, except for sparklers, snakes, and snap-and-pops, which can be purchased there in common drugstores. So we had fun with those fairly mild incendiary entertainments.

Sue and I have been together nineteen years (our anniversary was last week!), and in all of these years I've never witnessed "the cannon." Long ago, a friend and former coworker of Sue's dad fabricated a genuine, working, miniature version of a cannon. The barrel is brass, the wheels are iron. And it really works!

Sue's family used to load this thing up with black powder, a fuse, and stuff a paper napkin or something in the barrel and use it to blast in the new year each December 31! It's a tradition in their family. They also used to fire it every July 4. But this was apparently all twenty years ago--at any rate, I've never seen them shoot THE CANNON!

And yeah, it was LOUD! Take that, you silly bottle-rocket people! --Boom!!

No summertime trip to northern Ohio would be officially complete without a trip to Cedar Point amusement park. Do I look like a big fan of amusement parks? No. But Cedar Point is different--it's on a narrow piece of land that pokes out into Lake Erie, and cool breezes keep it relatively tolerable--even during this hot summer. And there's something to be said for the therapeutic primal-scream therapy delivered by some of the crazier rides.

I took the picture above from the Giant Wheel, the park's venerable, huge Ferris wheel. The green rollercoaster in the background is my favorite ride in the park, the Raptor (click for a point-of-view video!). It's one of those "feet dangling" coasters. It's so cool--it's like you're flying!

This one's called the Skyhawk. It's a huge giant terrifying "swingset"--very interesting to do, on account of the great height and speed, but overall it's not as much fun as the big rollercoasters. (Sue took this picture--that's me in the circle! Wahhhhh!!!!)

As of July 4, this is what was left of the big Con Agra grain elevator that used to be a major landmark in Huron, Ohio, and the Sandusky area in general. Most of it was destroyed during a controlled implosion in early January, but the big silos have had to be knocked down more gradually with wrecking balls. I hear the thing is completely gone now, though I understand a great pile of rubble remains to be dealt with. Condos, apparently, will replace the famous symbol of Ohio's agricultural productivity. (Click here to see a video of the implosion of the plant--pretty exciting! The community made a big party out of the occasion.) (Do you get the idea that people in northern Ohio like to blow up stuff--?)

Toft's ice cream is another of those things we must do when we visit northern Ohio in the summer. To my Central Missouri friends, Toft's is the northern Ohio equivalent of Central Dairy: If you don't feel like tackling an entire vat of ice cream, better ask for the "kiddie" size! (Pictured is a "small" serving of their "Buckeye Bites" flavor--peanut butter and chocolate, like mini "buckeyes" candies!)

Abundance; Wealth

Back in the eighties and nineties, I had a friend who was fairly hung up on the idea of “abundance,” or “wealth.” She devoured all those New Agey books on the subject—you know—the ones that say that we are all wealthy by our very God-natures, and if you really, truly believe you are wealthy, believe that you already are wealthy, and you believe it so much that you act like you are wealthy, then you will become wealthy.

There are a lot of problems with the circular reasoning in this scheme; the magic doesn’t “work” until you fully believe you are wealthy, and if you fully believe you are wealthy, then that’s that—mission accomplished! The problem, and the magic, is that wealth is a state of mind; it’s not a number.

Now, I’m not going to get into actual economics here—they are bleak for most people in the world, as the super-rich become ever more so, and the middle class drifts into peasantry. And yes, those doggone Wall Street financiers who crippled our economy should go to prison—or pay the amount of the bailout. But today I’m not talking about our ability to pay for the things we need.




What I’m talking about is the feeling of wealth, the sense of abundance.

It’s something I’ve felt since we returned from Ohio, and it’s something I see on Facebook when my friends share pictures of their tomato harvest (Rhoda!) or mention the quantity of fresh basil they harvested (Ginny!).

In Ohio, we visited Burnham Orchards, in Berlin Heights, famous for its fresh produce, which, in the fall . . . means apples!

You might remember me talking about “Lutheran Apples” last year about this time; well, because of storm damage to the Lexington/Waverly–area orchards (that area got a tornado the same day that Joplin got zapped), the local Lutherans’ annual fund-raiser sale of apples wasn’t held this year. So my folks didn’t buy ten million apples this fall and share ’em with us.

So this year, Sue and I turned the tables when we were at Burnham’s and purchased a half-bushel each of three different apples—golden delicious, Jonathan, and Cortland. And then we split them with my folks. It felt great to send them home with a big bunch of apples!




Oh yeah: Applesauce, baked apples, apple oat bran muffins, fried apples, apples in the stir-fries, apples in the salads, apples in the potatoes (Himmel und Erde!), apple fritters, apple dumplings, apple pancakes . . . joy!

Then also . . . while we were in Ohio, Sue’s sister and her family have a nice-sized planting of grapevines in their backyard. Concords! . . . And the vines were laden. Every time we raised a leaf, we saw a cluster of grapes.




Sue’s sister is recovering from a broken foot, so jelly-making is “out” for her this year. So she was saying to us, “Take all you want. Seriously! We’re not going to be using them. Here, let me get you some containers to put them in.”

Now, when we were in St. James, Missouri, a few weeks ago, we had bought some grapes at a roadside stand—I’d already measured, processed, and frozen them. It would be enough for about three pies. That should be enough till next fall.




So when Sue’s sister told us to pick as many as possible, my mind got to seesawing between thoughts like “how many times I’ve bought Concords at the store, and here she is, giving them away!” and all the ideas for what I can do with this windfall of lovely little purple globes: Grape pie, grape kuchen (traubenkuchen!), grape tart, grape preserves, grape jelly, grape muffins, grape pancake syrup . . .




So in addition to a bushel and a half of apples in our trunk, we also returned with more than a peck of fresh, beautiful Concords. You know how I feel about fruits; I adore them.

All the way home, the car smelled ambrosial!

. . . And I felt very wealthy, indeed.

Where the Heck Have I Been?

I’ve been busy—yeah, I know, lame excuse! Bad blogger! But as you know, this is the best time of year to be in the Midwest, and alive, and I’ve been trying to soak it all in. This post is my list of excuses for not having blogged for a while.

The fall colors this year haven’t been especially spectacular, but the flowers (asters, chrysanthemums, etc.) have been doing well, and the trees have been doing their best, even though it was just too dry for them this summer and fall.

I don’t talk much about my work life on this blog, but this is kind of cool: One of my current freelance activities involves the Missouri Department of Conservation’s “Fall Color” website, where you can view weekly reports on the progress of autumn from foresters representing all of Missouri’s regions.

And yeah, apart from the dryness, the temperatures have been great, with the clear blue skies and dry air so perfect for hiking, and cool evenings that are optimal for sleeping.

On October 1, we visited, for the first time, the town of Versailles’s “Old Tyme Apple Fest,” billed as the state’s largest one-day festival. And it was very fun, with perfect weather. Good music! Lots of craft and food vendors!




Versailles, Missouri, as you know, is pronounced vurr-SAY-ullz. It’s the seat of Morgan County and became famous as an apple-growing area. (Remember when we talked about Jacob’s Cave, also in Morgan County? At one time, it was used as a cool storage place for the region’s apples!) Today, the town is more famous as a northern gateway to the Lake of the Ozarks.

I was certainly expecting to see more “Old Tyme Apple stuff” than I did, but there were a few vendors selling caramel apples, and the Lions had an antique steam-powered apple squisher and press and were selling apple cider, and that was great!




I was terribly impressed by one food vendor from Iowa, the “Corn Roasting Company.” They had a big yellow corn roaster and were selling ears of roasted corn—with the husks pulled back into a “handle”—with your choice of Mexican, Cajun, or “American” seasonings. They were also selling fried dill pickles, homemade jalapeno poppers (with bacon!), spicy linguiça sausage, and cute little single-serving-size smoky meatloafs (cooked and served in a pot-pie pan). This was totally not your average “festival food” (though there was plenty of that around, too).




We ended up “eating our way” through that festival, even though, in the interest of saving some money, we’d packed a lunch of baloney sandwiches, grapes, and potato chips.




We ended up having our “lunch” as a picnic dinner during sunset on the Osage, after a pleasant drive through Tuscumbia, St. Elizabeth, and Meta, and a hike through Painted Rock Conservation Area to the river’s edge.




. . . And then, last week, we traveled to northern Ohio—a driving trip, so we got to enjoy all the fall color between here and there. Driving north, I had expected to see the progression of autumn in a speeded-up, telescoped way, but the latitudinal gradient seemed to have little effect on the color this year. Moisture seems to have dictated the timing and intensity of color instead. In fact, it was greener in northern Ohio than it was in Missouri.




One of the fun things I’ve been up to—well, it’s fun for me—especially on car trips, is that I’ve been learning to recognize the various makes of trucks (yeah—as in semis, eighteen-wheelers, class 8 trucks). So I’ve been scrutinizing the shapes of radiators, insignia badges, and the overall designs of the vehicles.




Except to zip around them while ascending a hill, and stuff like that, I had never paid much attention to trucks before.

I started trying to learn to distinguish them on our way home from our Fourth of July trip to Ohio, and on this trip I was pleased to discover that I’ve gotten pretty darn good at telling a Kenworth from a Peterbilt from a Freightliner, and a Mack from an International. It’s kind of like learning how to identify the various species of birds.




Some are fairly rare. Western Stars, for example, are definitely a minority. They’re based in South Carolina, although, like Freightliner and Sterling, the company’s a subsidiary of Daimler.

It’s also rare, now, to see any kind of large COE—cab-over-engine configuration—on the interstates. The flat-fronted, less-aerodynamic design is out of vogue these days, except for smaller, in-town delivery trucks, where drivers appreciate having a better view for maneuvering.

International is currently making a model, the “LoneStar,” with a striking profile—its grille is heavy with chrome, V-shaped, steeply slanted, with a strongly retro/hot-rod feel. Its design was inspired by the look of 1939 International pickups. Compared to the un-aerodynamic fronts of classic, heavy-duty Peterbilts and Kenworths, this sleek truck might prove to be a pacesetter for future design.

I’ll bet you didn’t know all this stuff!

What is this knowledge good for? I don’t know. You could say the same thing about learning to identify songbirds at a glance. Maybe I’m practicing keeping my mind active, for when I get older.




What else have I been up to? Some of you know that I started blogging when I found myself unable to play the trumpet. Blogging, I thought, might provide an alternative creative outlet. But seriously, there’s no comparison, and I never completely gave up on the trumpeting.

In the past month, I’ve gotten some news that’s given me hope, and it’s actually led me to physical therapy, which is helping. It seems I have a partial and nonclassical form of “facial paresis”—something like Bell’s palsy—making my facial muscles imbalanced. And this seems to be at the root of my trumpeting problems.

So I’ve been doing facial exercises designed to “even up” the muscles on both sides of my face. There are two goals: to make the various muscles equally strong on both sides, and to train my neuromuscular impulses and movements to be better coordinated on left and right.

Some of these exercises involve “smiling.” I do them before a mirror, to make sure the sides are balanced. I have to admit, it makes me kind of happy just watching myself do these exercises!

And I’ve been practicing my trumpet more—I’m able to play some things that would have seemed hopeless a few months ago. A few days ago, I even played a few lines of Arban’s Characteristic Study no. 2! There are plenty of frustrations, still, but this is definitely moving in the right direction. Even though it’s cutting into the blogging time.




The next thing, of course, is the “plant dance”: bringing in our tropical plants, digging up the hibiscus and elephant ears, and all that. I don’t want to wait until the last day before it freezes. Plus, there’s the storm windows . . . wonder how we’ll rank this year on the “cussometer”?

But don’t worry—I’m not forgetting about the blog!

Thanks again to Sue for sharing her excellent pictures with me! Only two of these are mine. I can't tell you how nice it is to have such great photos to use in my blog!