When does autumn begin? What about the change in the weather?

I never know whether fall begins on September 21 or 22 so I asked Cortana Computer who asked Bing.com. The following is the first of their answers.

ASTRONOMICAL: In the northern hemisphere of Earth, Fall begins on the Autumnal equinox --22-23 September (in Persian calendar it will begin at the first day of Mehr) and ends on the Winter solstice (21-22 December). 

In the southern hemisphere of Earth, Fall begins on the Autumnal equinox (20-21 March) and ends on the Winter solstice (20-21 June). Can you imagine this? An email friend in Canberra, Australia is enjoying spring and sharing photos of daffodils!

CLIMATOLOGICAL: The World Meteorological Organization officially mandates September 1 of any year as the first day of the climatological autumn and November 30 as the last day in the northern hemisphere.
In the southern hemisphere, the climatological autumn begins March 1 and ends May 31.

             ECOLOGICAL: The ecological autumn has no fixed dates but coincides with the period that the leaves of deciduous trees change color and fall to the ground.

So, now I know. Thanks to Cortana and Bing and their online sites. True to the Astronomical season, the weather changed, or began to change, Thursday night, the 20^th. Because, the next morning, I awoke with a piercing pain in the center of my left foot. Yes, I’d had foot surgery back a ‘ways, but not there—only in and around my toes.

Nothing to do but go again to Cortana/Bing: Two experts on the subject of changes and how they can/ may affect one’s body are Robert N. Jamison, Harvard Medical School, and David Borenstein, George Washington University Medical Center. They are quoted in the site that showed up first:

“One leading theory points to changes in air pressure. Although many people say that their pain worsens with damp, rainy weather, research has shown that it's not the cold, wind, rain, or snow, Borenstein says. ‘The thing that affects people most is barometric pressure.’"

 “But barometric pressure often drops before bad weather sets in. This lower air pressure pushes less against the body, allowing tissues to expand -- and those expanded tissues can put pressure on the joint. ‘It's very microscopic and we can hardly notice, except that we have these sensations,’ Jamison says.”

 “Nevertheless, the link between pain and weather changes remains hypothetical; research has come to mixed conclusions, Jamison says. " ‘All the results are not very clean, meaning there are people who say that weather doesn't affect their pain.’"

“Borenstein agrees that there's no consensus, but he finds barometric pressure a likely explanation because it does affect people's bodies.”

All right, then. Since my foot pain disappeared that same afternoon, I’m insisting it was caused by the barometric pressure of changing weather. Is this old wives’ tale or Grandma’s saying about pain and the weather just so much talk? Perhaps. 

 But this old former wife and grandma says it’s true.

       c 2018, PL d/b/a/ lovepat press, Benton AR USA

Death has dealt us heavy blows

 From August 6 to September 6—we in Saline County have been affected by too-many-at-one-time deaths.

                JIMMY KANE – A true Christian disciple; my Sunday-School teacher ‘way back when I was a teenager; a fisherman, a husband, father, grandfather, friend. Greeting everyone with a smile, even toward the end. He is the namesake of the Kaneraiser’s Sunday School class. Until a few years ago, he was the long-time teacher of the Tom Scott Sunday School class. I sang in the choir during his service after we quickly learned the requested hymn, “The Last Mile of the Way.” Rest in peace, Jim.

                BETTY DAGUE – The sweet mother-in-law of one of the choir members died shortly thereafter, and Ann asked me to play for the memorial service. I was delighted to do so, honoring this beautiful woman with a quick smile that exuded love for those around her. I played the organ, the 60-year-old Baldwin organ, that I had played for many years as music director of the church. Besides her large family, many church members also paid her homage. Rest in peace, dear Betty.

                LOUISE WHITLEY – (Aunt Lou) A sister-in-law’s only remaining sister died earlier this month. All four of our brother’s siblings attended the service at Ashby’s. Since Louise had taught at the Deaf School, one of the Nutt brothers signed the songs and the messages. Louise was also a minister. Janice was given a Christian flag in celebration of her sister’s well-lived life. We sisters-in-law hosted a post-burial lunch for Janice and Bill’s immediate family. Rest in peace, Aunt Lou.

                REX HELMER, Jacksonville – This man, known to me because of his wife, Kathy, who, besides being a poet and writer, is a missioner for their UM Church. She has seen to it that I get invited to their team when and if there’s a vacancy—to their annual UMCOR trip to south Louisiana. On those years when I went, I spent the night before with Rex and Kathy and their late feline, Bob. Rex was a Vietnam veteran who served in the Air Force for more than 21 years. He was afflicted with Alzheimer’s at the last. Rest in peace, Rex.

                JOHN MCCAIN – Arizona’s illustrious senator, chose to stop treatment for his brain disease, and died one day later, four days before his 82^nd birthday. His death hit me harder than usual, because I was reading his latest book, The Restless Wave. Without sound, except for part of the church service, I scrolled through the internet’s myriad photos to get the flavor of the other services. Each time I saw Cindy McCain cry, I teared up, too. Rest in peace, Senator McCain.

                CLIFF BAKER – Brother-in-law, theater maven, all-around sweet fellow who loved everyone he met, and made them feel better about themselves—died September 6 in a New York hospital, having never awakened from a cerebral aneurysm after a week of surgeries and other treatment. He was a light in our family’s life, especially our brother, his husband. Rest in peace, dear, dear Cliff.

P.S.
And since this piece came out, two more dear ones have died: PATSY REED and GERALD BAXLEY. Condolences and love to their families.

c 2018, PL d/b/a/ lovepat press, Benton AR USA

When company’s scheduled, projects get done

 The leftover cobbler that I ladled into coffee cups has been eaten.

After that Sunday potluck, the rest of the week was free of scheduled activities. Saturday, though, I would host the monthly breakfast for the remnant of 1954 Bryant High School classmates. And it took all five days to accomplish what I needed to do before then.

Three huge projects loomed; projects I’d put off and put off. No longer; they must be done.

The first one was to clean the carpet from the hallway door to Billy’s bedroom door. I guess the milk from his bowls of cereal must have sloshed out. No telling what some of the other stains were. But while he was working, I pulled out the bottle of Resolve and a brush, brought in a pillow to kneel on, and set to work. Even without testing a corner of carpet for possible color change.

Number-two project was to put the second coat of paint on the outside of the front door. I fired the painter before he could “finish some little things.” He left large cans of Kilz and Cultured Pearl (white) paint thinking he was to paint the dining room also. But no, that job falls to me now. But first, the front door needed another coat so I could replace the vintage key plate that I’d painted gold. (This was just for looks, mind you.) I did it, plus the facings on the outside. Then I stained the faded, wood threshold step.

The third biggee was to mop the dining room hardwood floor. Warm water and a sponge mop did the trick, and after it dried, I buffed it with a clean Swiffer pad.

After those tasks were done, everything else was a piece of cake: Billy offered to put leaves in the table. Then I dressed the table and designed a centerpiece. I cleaned the bathroom, swept off the front porch, baked the scones.

Now that the breakfast is history, the only downer was the 10-cup coffeemaker I’d stashed away when the Keurig came into the house. I’d tried it out the day before and it worked. That morning, it didn’t perk. Nothing doing, then, but to heat up yesterday’s coffee, and eventually turn on the Keurig.

After the “girls” left, I decided to move the still-un-perked pot to a different plug. IT WORKED!!!  Oh, well. The "girls" will have something to chuckle over next month.

Japanese Kerria in the backyard

c 2018, PL d/b/a lovepat press, Benton AR USA

               

               

Unshared (I think) recent photos

Bouquet for '54 Girls' breakfast, August 4

Mother's Day pot verbena, summer '18

Aunt Olive's

 jade plant, plus others

Living room floor with door open to sunshine

Closeup of sunshine on living room hardwood floor

Encroaching on porch apron-purple jew & coreopsis

Wild coleus (comes up hither & yon) in back yard square

Yucca blooms, roadside

Beautyberry purpling

New plants I must get in the ground or in pots, pronto

c 2018, PL d/b/a lovepat press, Benton AR USA

Recipes: where do we get them? How do we use them?

I liked Tammy Keith’s column in a recent Sunday’s Tri-Lakes supplement of the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette about her husband cooking dishes from recipes in OLD cookbooks. Though I have a shelf of cookbooks, when I need a recipe now, I cheat and go online instead of pulling down one of the books. I have a pear-motif, straight-sided bowl in which I deposit those recipes I clip or copy.

The latest addition to the stash is a Breakfast Casserole that I thought I was going to make when the classmate who usually brings one said she wasn’t coming to the breakfast at my house. I had all the ingredients. I had just gotten the Pyrex dish down from the cabinet when she emailed that she could come after all and bring a casserole. I hoisted the dish back to the cupboard. When other overnight company comes, I’ll be ready.

Next is a Five-Minute Fudge recipe from Heloise. Then a Grandma Murray’s Apple Cake recipe from July 2017’s Arkansas Living that I DID make, only I used pears instead. That dish went to a family gathering last October.

From the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette, I clipped Murlene’s Black-Eyed Pea Salad I (one) in December of ’17. As I look at it now, I realize I have all the ingredients on hand. Excuse me while I whip it up—kitchen-test it, if you will. . . .

Okay, all done. Now it must cool and absorb the flavors.

The next in my bowl is Heloise’s recipe for peanut brittle. For some reason (I haven’t yet asked) Harvest Foods quit stocking raw peanuts, which I’ve been buying and parching for a long spell. The ones already roasted aren’t nearly as flavorful as the raw ones.

Then here’s a Pumpkin Pie Cake from ADG’s Joe Riddle, clipped in the fall of ’14. When Billy was little, and we had a jack-o’-lantern each year, I’d make pies after Halloween, freeze them and take to our Thanksgiving gatherings. I have a poem somewhere that essentially says, “Halloween’s Jack- o’- lantern is Thanksgiving’s pie.

Now, my mouth’s watering. A Southern Pimento Cheese recipe, clipped back in 2014, makes me hungry. But I don’t have pimentos on hand. (Put them on the grocery list, please.). I also like onion rings.  Here’s a recipe that BAKES them. I’ve written “Doable” on the yellowed paper.

If a recipe turns out well, even eight Christmases ago, tape it to an index card and write when/ where it was served. This one, Mom’s Easy Pound cake I made for the choir party and the poets’ meeting. Here is the recipe: 1 box yellow cake mix; ½ cups water, sugar, oil; 2 tsp. melted butter; 4 eggs; 1 tsp. vanilla. Mix ingredients. Bake one hour at 325 degrees in a Bundt or tube pan. Also freezes well.” – from Sharon Ridgeway, Alexander AR. My note says, “Delicious!”

Finally, let me taste the Black-Eyed Pea Salad . . . You get veggies and protein in one dish, plus the tang of vinegar! Not bad, as our choir director used to say after an anthem. Not bad at all.

               

c 2018, PL d/b/a lovepat press, Benton AR USA

Finally, it cooled off—and rained

                                                       Well, it didn't rain THAT much.

          Last weekend, the rain that stormed through while I read the state and local papers provided both a respite from the near-drought and a reason not to finish my project of cleaning and grooming the corner iris bed. I’d begun working early the day before, bending, clipping, tossing detritus into Mom’s discarded shredder-cum-yard waste container.

          With an early lunch meeting in town, I had to stop, shower, and dress. An Aleve would (ahem) eventually alleviate the soreness. After the meal, I drove a short, back way to Home Depot for landscape materials. I hauled down a huge bag of potting soil. But I waited for an assistant to load the marble rocks and bags of pea gravel I wanted for the south yard.

          But then, I needed a few things from the dollar store, so I stopped. I took only a yellow basket with me, but halfway through the store, I picked up a second one and filled them both. I left with five bags of merchandise on one arm and a bag of cat food in my other hand—by this time, it was early afternoon—and I suddenly felt old. I felt like I walked like an old person—for the first time in my newly-82 years. At the car, unloading my arms and hand, I talked severely to myself. “You ARE old!”

         Obviously, I said that in a weak moment, tired from the early yard chore, dressed too warmly for that time of day, not to mention the oppressive humidity. After a longer-than-usual nap, I recovered both my strength and my positive attitude. So, I moved on as we all must do at certain times.

        The next morning, I arose early to water the roses, but the sky looked bluer than usual. Weather sources said 100% chance of rain, and a map showed a storm moving our way from the west. Sure enough, thunder pealed and eventually, the rains came.

        The rain was no flood--an inch deep in my garden wagon--but it helped. After it stopped, I finished the iris bed and de-grassed part of the sidewalk--until ants appeared from under a paver.

           I had one more responsibility before that day ended: baking a pear cobbler for Ebenezer UMC’s Fifth-Sunday potluck, a new church activity. I intended to use a 9x13 dish, so I lifted three packages of al-ready-stewed pears sans sugar and cinnamon from the freezer and set them to thaw. Before the storm that morning, I had “run” to Harvest Foods for a pie crust to make decorative strips.

           After an unrestful nap, it was time to begin. Using a recipe I found online and printed out, I substituted for fresh ginger, half as much of the ground spice. For the lemon zest, I substituted twice as much lemon juice as called for—both suggestions from online.

                In my ignorance of this church's potluck "doings," when I signed up for "dessert," I figured it would be the only dessert, so I'd better make as large a dish as I could. I filled a 9x13 Pyrex dish to the brim, added the cut strips of pie crust, Voila! Enough for all two dozen or so folks. I took whipped topping, too.

          But when I got there, I saw 2 store-bought pies, two homemade cakes, cookies, candy. . . I'd forgotten that when "potluck" is mentioned in a United Methodist Church, it usually means each family brings at least 3 dishes. True this day!

          Three of us took small helpings--to sample some of all, of course. I took the rest ofit home where it sat in the fridge for a day or three. Finally, I filled 8 coffee cups (not mugs) packed down, topped with (ahem) topping, and placed them in the freezer before covering with plastic wrap.

          I'll know next time.

Still too hot to work outside

During last week’s heat wave, I stayed inside. Also, I was under a deadline to enter a regional writers conference contests. I entered seven—three prose pieces and four poems. And I even made it BEFORE deadline. Now, I’m facing two more sets of contests with mid-August deadlines.

Another inside activity that has taken more of my time is reading the current news, both online and in print. It’s not that I don’t have things to do in this house, but I feel a compulsion to keep up with EVERYTHING going on in the country and the world. I credit Dr. Richard Yates at Hendrix College during the late ‘50s when I took American and World Governments. Made Ds in both, but I cared not then nor now.

I’m learning, too, as I read. Just today, I looked up the word, “exculpatory,” a word used by Mr. Giuliani. That’s an adjective for “exculpate,” a verb meaning to show or declare that (someone) is not guilty of wrong doing.

Puzzles educate now and then: I didn’t remember (if I ever knew) that Zimbabwe was once Rhodesia. And that a “cure-all” is E-L-I-X-I-R. I had the last letter wrong; no wonder I couldn’t figure it out. “Salient” was the answer to “conspicuous,” and “vera” means “truth.”

A prison cellblock can hold approximately 60 inmates, according to an article by C. Turnage in the  state paper last week. And the U. S. Forest Service was created in 1905. So wrote F. Lockwood, ADG.

For the longest time, I’ve heard—but never used—the word “inflation.” Now, I know what it means to inflate a tire, but I’ve never grasped the concept of inflation except that it’s not necessarily a good thing. But an ADG editorial last week, had an actual definition, which I quickly wrote down: “A hidden tax that destroys the value of our currency.”

Bing Online defines it this way: “In economics, inflation is a sustained increase in the general price level of goods and services in an economy over … time. When the price level rises, each [dollar] buys fewer goods and services. Consequently, inflation reflects a reduction in the purchasing power per unit of money – a loss of real value in the medium of exchange and unit of account within the economy.” OK, inflation is when our cash buys less now than it used to. Got it.

“Hegemony” is another mystifying word. Two pronunciations are listed online:” həˈjemənē,” and “hejəˌmōnē.” It means: “leadership or dominance, especially by one country or social group over others.” I’ll never use it in conversation, but I can now pronounce it in my head when I read it.

Finally, another F. Lockwood article elucidates a bit of government information: “Under the 1974 Congressional Budget Act, lawmakers are supposed to pass a dozen separate spending bills by October 1, the start of the federal fiscal year.

“But that hasn’t been done by deadline in more than two decades. Some years, they fail to pass any of the 12—late or otherwise. Instead, they pass a series of stop-gap spending measures, known as continuing resolutions, or they pass a single, massive spending package.” Hmm. By October 1, we’ll see what this year’s Congress has done/ will do.

            Stay cool, folks.

c 2018, PL d/b/a lovepat press, Benton AR USA