Another Strategy to Save Myself

Yesterday a friend on a phone call recommended a book to me and today, by coincidence, I read about it in my daily e-mail news feed: Dr. Dean Ornish's book UnDo It! - Lifestyle choices to reverse chronic disease. In particular, this book, acccording to my friend, strives to focus on brain health and early intervention against cognitive decline. Mp/> This blog post is only to introduce the idea. I have borrowed the book via Audible and I will be listening to it at bedtime which is my habit. I have lost so much vision due to Fuch's Dystrophy - a degeneration of the cornea due to the break-down of the Fuch's pumps responsible for cleaning and protecting the cornea, that I can't really read anymore - it is such a struggle and I need a magnifying glass. So, I listen to audio books. I doubt there is much new in this book to me, as I read Dr. Ornish's heart book in the beginning of my heart disease fifteen years or so ago, but I think of it as a REVIEW and Inspiration to get back to the good lifestyle.

In truth, I do a good many of the recommended things as do many of my friends including - I am a vegetarian. The friend who recommended the book is a vegan (Marilyn Quinn) as is my other best friend, Barb Solem. I haven't been willing to go that far but I am close. I still have dairy products in my diet, cheese, ice cream!, and a milk based protein drink, and, to be honest, I DO NOT eat enough vegetables and fruits each day. I am a carboholic.

My main failure, however, is in the area of exercise. For the month of July I have done no exercise. The previous couple of months I was doing well - going to the gym 3 times a week for a light workout: 15 minutes on the bike, two arms machines, two abs machines, a couple other weight machines here and there, a total of 30 minutes. And I was walking EVERY day at Martin's Lake, a half mile walk on a good sidewalk around a charming pond. Then, the dog got sick with a serious illness, pancreatitis, and my days were taken up with getting my sister in Clarksboro each day to help me carry the dog out, fix her special foods (boiled chicken and rice) and get her to the vet. That took two weeks, and then I got sick with a recurring stomach bug - diarrhea and nausea that lasted a day or two. The same illness hit me last summer.

That little health crash got me off my exercise track and I never got back on. The excessive heat of this month didn't help. Following that, I became apathetic, sad, lazy and struggling. My sister's bi-weekly cleaning visits really helped me keep my head above water, but I wasn't doing the minimal exercise component.

Fortunately, I was able to keep one thing going - my writing (my daily journal and my blog) and working in my Art Journal - creative exercises. Also, I work pretty diligently at keeping up with friends in whatever way possible, texting, phone calls, lunches.

So, with this blogpost begins my journey with the new Dr. Dean Ornish Book and whatever program or ideas for saving myself that it inspires which I will share with you. I have recommended the book to two other friends and we are tossing around the idea of a casual book club based on it. I will let you know how that progresses! Happy Trails - wrightj45@yahoo.com

Old People Talking - Conversation

One of the things I love about this blog is that I often have a lot of thoughts and conversations and this is a place where I can put them. I don't know if I am sharing them. Various friends have told me from time to time, that they read something in my blog and recently a cousin from my childhood found me because he looked something up and it took him to my blog! This morning I was talking to my sister about my latest passion for dressmaking in the late 1800's as a career and an art.

As I mentioned in my previous post, my Great-grandmother was a skilled dressmaker according to the Federal Census, by the age of 16. Also by that age, I was taught in high school Home Economics Class how to sew and by 18, I was making all my own clothes. My sister and I both could sew and we grew up watching our mother re-upholster furniture and sew all the curtains for our houses. My mother also made some of my clothes and in particular, I remember an Easter outfit she made for me of pale yellow linen in the style of Jackie Kennedy, a slim skirt and bolero jacket with a paisley brown and yellow cummerbund. It was beautiful. Being a teenager, I didn't respect the garment or my mother's efforts or art - I wanted jeans and a sweater set - the going fashion for teenagers.

But I digress, and that brings me back to my subject, old people talking. This morning I asked my sister if I was boring her talking about sewing clothes and the cost of fabrics in Philadelphia in the 1960's and she said I wasn't because she liked to sew too. I asked her because I had stopped phoning my brother because although I listened politely to his endless stories about getting tree trunks and renting a log splitter to make his wood piles for the winter wood stove, and his detailed accounts of car and truck repairs, if I talked about something interesting to me, he was in the habit of putting his phone on mute. When I got hip to what he was doing, I confronted him and then stopped calling. It is a two way street. You tell your stories and listen to theirs. My sister and I do that. She talks about work rlationships and the adventures of her daily bus commute which I find interesting because I took the bus to the city daily for years when I worked at the library in Glouceter City and my bus and hers used the same route and things have changed!

Recently, however, atlunch with two friends, I was talking about discovering the death of an old friend I had looked up on the internet. The friend and I had known one another in the 1970's and hadn't kept in touch much over the years. I looked him up and found his death notice an the Canadian registry of artists. He died in 2022. It was remarkable to me because I have reached the age where often when I look up someone from the past, I found they have died. The friend with whom I was talking had done her share of the conversation on the topics of her frivolous daughter-in-law, her son's lack of control of his wife, and her still painful hip replacement surgery, and I had listened politely, but when I was talking about the Canadian artist and how we had met, she was getting impatient and interrupted and told me to get to the point and complained that I digress too much. I was hurt. I fought back and reminded her of the social cotract of friendship where we listen to one another with patience and respect. She and I haven't spoken since and I feel the friendship may be waning. Waning friendships in aging is another good blog topic for another time.

Anyhow, talking about sewing my dresses for work as a young woman working in Philadelphia in a publishing company in the 1960's may have been one of those well known 'old people boring conversations' so I asked my sister but of course, she is prejudiced in my favor and said it wasn't boring.

The friend with whom I am having lunch today was mentioning to me how when she gets together with her gentleman friend's young family, his adult children are middle-aged and their children are in their teens, none of them ask her even one question about her books or her writing or her life. They aren't interested in her at all. She has written three wonderful books on the pines: Batsto and other Quirky Places in the PineBarrens is her most popular one. She is very popular at Pinebarrens events like the antique glass and bottle show and the Clountry Living Fair and hundreds of people tell her how much they love her books, but her boyfriend's kids have no interest at all.

I have seen this before in regard to old people. Once at the photo department of Walgreens an old man showed me a photo of his Navy ship in the arctic. They were there searching for parts of a Russian crashed craft of some kind. He was trying to tell the store clerk who was visibly bored and impatient, which I have seen before, and which I understand. After all, they are working! That clerk didn't give a hoot about Russian aircraft or the arctic and the old man was keeping him from his tasks probably stocking shelves.

We have no place to tell our stories if we have no friends. That's one of the things I LOVED about my previous involvement with historical society volunteer work - we all were interested in history and enjoyed the stories we shared. Plus it was all older people who were polite by a lifetime of training and because historical clubs and societies seem to attract polite people.

I don't have any conclusions to draw from this set of observations about aging and conversation, except that I suppose it is a big challenge and an important one to continue into our aging to cultivate friends in social groups who share our interests so we have people to talk to. And, perhaps, to take up writing and also take up blogging! It just occurred to me that one of the reasons I have been so interested in my Greatgrandmother's life as a dressmaker is because I listened to an old person talking when I was young.

Happy Trails! wrightj45@yahoo.com

New Art Journal Page project - The Dressmaker

As you may have read, if you follow this blog, I have my Great Grandmother Catherine Sandman's 1929 sewing machine. As a young child, I actually met her, although at the time, she was suffering from a catastrophic stroke and my Grandmother Mabel was taking care of her in Ocean City, New Jersey. She has fascinated me ever since. I am fortunate enough to have a series of photographs of her from the ages of 16, 20's, middle age, and just before she died in her 80's.

During the time that I was focused on family history I found CAtherine in Phildadelphia on the Federal census living with her family, German Catholics just south of center city. Catherine was listed as a seamstress and I had the oral history from her daughter, my Grandmother Mabel, that they both sewed uniforms for the Schuylkill Arsenal in Philadelphia. Most of my ancestors grew out of the fertile fields of South Philadelphia, which is where I, in fact, was born and raised until age 11.

My German ancestors in Philadlphia worked in traditional trades: brewers, bakers, dressmakers, watch repair. The tradition of sewing was passed down to me in the form of the quilts my Grandmother Mabel sewed for all of her grandchildren, one of which I passed on to my own daughter, Lavinia.

I didn't realize it at the time, by the course in sewing that was given to girls in high school in my youth, was to play a contual part in my life. From those early introductory lessons I lerned to make a skirt from a pattern. The paper patterns were a thin tissue of a pale cream/coffee color. I learned to use a device with a spoked wheel and colored carbhon paper to trace darts and other details from the pattern onto the fabric. Thanks to the Simplicity Easy to Sew patterns, when I was 18, working in Philadelphia at a publishing company, I could buy fabric in the many fabric stores and sew a simple stylish sheath dress in less than an hour for less than $5.00. It took about 1 and a half yards of fabric which I could buy on sale from a remnants table, and since I had been taught how the patterns worked, even such arcana as finding the direction of the weave of the fabric (not really that important in the kind of basic sewing I was doing), I had no trouble learning how to make up the simplest garments. Later, I used that skill to make my toddler's adorable little cotton overalls. These could also be made in under an hour for under $5.00 which was a great help as I was living on very limited income until the 1990's when I was able to supplement my meager income with part-time jobs. By the time my daugher was school aged, I was buy clothes because I had no time to sew. For all those years, I used my mother's Singer sewing machine. I have written about that machine in an earlier post this year. According to my sewing machine repair-man, Chuck McGowan, it is the best model Singer that was ever made. I would have to agree as it has been sewing for me for over 60 years and for my mother before me.

My high school education prepared me for a job in the clerical world. I guess if you put a simple, broad chronology to Women's Work, the kind that earned money (for the common woman), it would be housekeeper, seamstress, nurse, clerk, schoolteacher. All of my friends in my age group - 70's, were carried by the stream of current culture into the last three of those career choices. The generation of women that I knew from my mother's period were almost all home=makers, although one or two had jobs in offices as clerks, or saleswomen in department stores. In my Grandmother's generation all the women I knew were homemakers, housekeepers, or in my Grandmother Mabel's case, saleswomen. She worked in Stainton's Department Store in Ocean City on Asbury Avenue.

Her mother's generation were housekeepers, seamstresses, bakers, cooks.

The important point to me, however, is that they had a way to earn a living. My interest has also shown me that many women in my Grandmother's and Greatgrandmother's time worked in factories as well which I saw in photographs of the early textile mills. I guess the one thing I left out because it was outside my experience was farm work. I do know that many women from the lower economic class in Philadelphia were transported by bus to do farm work during harvest seasons in New Jersey. Many brought their children who also worked in the fields during harvest. Now that work is done by immigrant labor and by machine.

To get back to the tools of the trade, however, which is what my next pages in my Art Journal will be about, I have a deep fondness for these things which made it possible for women to free themselves, by however so small a degree, from total economic dependence and domestic servitude: the sewing machine, and this trade, dressmaking, seamstress, was a SKILLED trade! It also involved beautiful resources, fabrics, laces, buttons and beads, and creativity, at the same time that it demanded backbreaking labor and exactitude. Take a look at those dresses in the next museum you visit and the painstaking details of pleating and beading and fitting. Those dresses were a creative and a tormenting process, and a kind of prison for the wearer.

Recently I came across an interesting detail about the white dresses worn by the famous poet Emily Dickinson. They ahve always caused a bit of mystery in those familiar with the life and work of the great America poet. She 'took' to wearing the simple white garment at some point in her life and stayed dressed in them until she died, a recluse.

What I learned recently was that the style of dress was a common "house dress" worn by women in that time, loose fitting and relaxed and most importantly NOT REQUIRING A CORSET! Can you imagine spending your days laced up in a suffocating torture chamber of a corset restricting both your movement and your breathing? I can't. No wonder Emily opted for the house-dress.

Even this simple garment however, had many tiny pleats and lace trim on collar and cuffs. Lace, remember, was hand-made from about the 1500's to the Industrial Revolution in the late 1800's and early 1900's in factories. Lace was imported from such centers as Italy and Belgium where it was handmade by skilled craftswomen.

Even in my own childhood, women plied some ancient fiber arts such as crocheted doilies and tableclothes, as well as the yarn arts of knitting. I have sample of each of these arts and they are magical - to be able to take a length of string and turn it into a lacy filigree! But these skills are dying out in my generation. We all have too many jobs to juggle along with housework and childrearing.

Many years ago when I was in Mexico, I bought a shopping bag finger woven from cactus fiber! I wish I still had it, it was unbrakeable but I have long since lost it. It is a long thread from those early women taking a fiber and figuring out how to turn it into a frabric, to the seamstresses making shirtwaists and ballgowns and the factory workers keeping eh bobbins loaded and the machines running.

Happy Trails along the thread that runs so true! wrightj45yahoo.com

Finding Inspiration-Fighting Ennui

July 26, 2025 - I was feeling a common apathy of a hot summer morning and in my e-mail news feed, I came across an npr essay on what columnists did to give a perk to the morning. As it happened, I was thinking that I felt uninspired and I began to think of what I do when I am looking for insspiration and I thought of my big tub of resource files in the back room of my little bungalow.

Over the many many years, when I am working on a new project for an art show, I will print out pictures from photographs or other resources to use for reference. There are so many, I could go right up the alphabet but the most common are family, friends, historic places, landscapes, pets, memories. After the pojects are over, the files become scattered, but this Spring in a major organizing effort of a couple of weeks, I got all my art supplies and my downstairs folders into labeled tubs. (The attic will have o wait, maybe forever)

My morning latte' gave me enough energy to go back into the Den and pull the heavy tub off the shelf and rifle through the folders pulling out promising prints: pets, my favorite willow oak tree on Station Ave, in Mt. Ephraim, the Railroad trees (60 of them in a column beside the tracks) throughout the seasons, mushrooms and a Mary Oliver poem. I also found an old wooden ruler that I liked and I have been searching for.

I have been wanting to do a project on the railroad trees through the seasons for years. I have photos of them in winter in snow, in Spring in bloom, and summer in green and fall in russet colored leaves. Today may be just the day to do that page in my Art Journal.

I also found an old dinosaur birthday card that I filled out to mail to a friend whose birthday I am celebrating in August with tickets to the Edelman Fossil Park and Museum, part of Rpwan University. The card must be from my daughter's childhood, hence, more than 40 years old! In a few minutes I will take the dog for a short ride to the post office to mail that and another card I am sending to an Art Journal buddy. We will ride around one or more of the local parks while we are out which is another thing I do to get inspired and to cut through the haze of apathy that often fogs me in in the mornings.

This is a special day because it is the second day when, thanks to my sister's energetic and expert help on Thursday, all the chores are done and I am free to do whatever I please! So, the ride to the PO and the parks, then I will pick one of the pages and start an art journal page. I think it will be the railroad trees!

I hope this inspires some ideas in you for what to do with your one and only unique and irreplaceable day! By the way, I also received an essay from an old classmate that he wrote about the death of his family companion, Buddy the Labrador Retriever. My files inspire writing as well as providing imagery for my Art Journal, as can be attested by this blog entry. Maybe you'll be inspired to write. How about a summer memory?

By the way, if you are interested in starting an Art Journal, you don't need any specific or special artistic skills, you can begin by doodling, any pattern, any idea, any sketch. I think I wrote a blog entry earlier about a man who wrote a column in this month's AARP magazine about his 50 years of keeping journals! Good for the brain, good for the memory, maybe even good for posterity!

Happy Trails - wrightj45@yahoo.com

Groundbreaking Ceremony at Benjamin Cooper House, Erie Street, Camden, NJ

"America’s 250th birthday will be celebrated on July 4, 2026, marking 250 years since the signing of the Declaration of Independence in 1776 in Philadelphia. The celebration will involve various events and initiatives throughout the U.S. spanning several days." This excerpt is from a very much longer piece in my e-mail from the Camden County Historical Society of which I am a member and have been for many years. Once, after retirement, I was also a volunteer/part-time worker in the suitcase school visiting program for a couple of years. In that program, we (the volunteer/part-time employees carried a trunk of artifacts from two significant periods of our history - Colonial Settlement, and The Underground Railroad.)

Also, at that time, I was very much involved in what came to be about 15 years of intense family history research. Our family, on my mother's side, had a long history in the Camden/Gloucester County area: Major Peter Cheesement (a road named for him runs along Camden County Colege campus) was an ancestor. His daughter, Rachel Cheeseman married William C. Garwood a teacher, storekeeper for the Turnersville Store, and postal employee as well as some municipal and church posts in the Turnersville area. His grandson was my grandmother, Lavinia McQuiston Lyons, father.

Most of the family at that time were involved in the many mills that lined Timber Creek, saw mills, and grist mills.

One of Major Peter T. Cheeseman's ancestors was also a veteran of the Revolutionary War, Richard Cheeseman. During my voluteer days at Gloucester County Historical Society (Camden and Gloucester counties overlapped one another during their history) I found Richard Cheeseman in Strickers revolutionary War Index. Proving his blood connection to Major Peter T. Cheeseman seemed too complicated for me to pursue given the scarcity of paper trails in the time of wooden buildings and fires, not to mention the use and re-use of the same names throughout family history.

Anyhow, even without the family history, my volunteer work in the 20 years after retirement took me to many places that fired up my interest in our fascinating history in this early colony of the new world. I was also a volunteer at Red Bank Battlefield for many years, giving tours of the Anne (Cooper) Whitall and James Whitall House at that historic site.

I am eagerly awaiting the opening of this new venue to celebrate our history and grateful that speedy and brilliant strategy saved this landmark from the fate of the historic Harrison/Hugg House in Bellmawr which was demolished by the Department of Transportation.

You can find more on this landmark place and event via google and it would be a helpful and valuable thing for you to send in a check and become a member of Camden Historical Society. They have a terrific magazine and the e-mail flyer that I get gives literall dozens of wonderful events in this remarkable County!

Happy Trails wrightj45@yahoo.com

Batsto Citizens Committee Summer Newsletter item July 15, 2025

The Batsto Citizens Committee Summer Newsletter is a great read and I always enjoy it. You can become a member and get your on-line copy as well! There was a fascinating essay about the history of the paper mill turned Playhouse in this issue. What I can share with you however, is the Events Calendar.Special Events for 2025

7/19/2025 ~ The Second Pennsylvania Regimental Reenactment

7/27/2025 ~ Batsto Dog Show

9/28/2025 ~ Fall Antique Glass & Bottle Show

10/19/2025 ~ Country Living Fair

10/26/2025 ~ Haunting in the Pines

12/7/2025 ~ Winter in the Pines

I haven't been very often in recent years but Batsto was a favorite palce of mine since my teen years and I strongly recommend it for a family visit, or for a single solitary hike and enjoyment of the history of this wonderful place. If you go to an event, go early and be prepared to park at a distance as the events are very popular!

Happy Trails wrightj45@yahoo.com

My Morning read - AARP Mag. Two Grandmothers & a Journal Keeper

Tuesday, July 15, 2025 and 11:30. I should have been leaving for lunch with dear friend Barbara Solem today at Maritsa's but instead I an on the sofa sick with diarrhea and upset stomach. I think it was mushrooms in Chinese take-out leftovers. Anyhow, the AARP Magazine came in time to keep me company. I tore out two articles to put in my current journal, one on a man named Chip Brown who has 138 journals kept over 50 years!

I have a trunk full in the attic and a shelf full in my bedroom ceiling to floor bookcase, probably over a hundred at the rate that I keep them. They help me structure my life, figure things out, find a safe place to put my complaints and emotional pains until they fade. I also glue in countless articles on simple sets of exercises to do each day (I don't) but I am hopeful, and articles about artists among other things. I highly recommend journal keeping and it has been mentioned in many articles about keeping our brains healthy over the long haul.

Speaking of health and the long haul, there was an article about two grandmothers, very very different from one another who both lived to be 104! Was it genes? One did have a healthy life, the other had an ordinary life without particular efforts regarding healthy meals and nutrition. In the article they mentioned the pillars of aging: gemes.exercise, diet, sleep, social connection, purpose. Then they added resilience forged in hardship, sustaining poser of love, the anchoring power of faith, and the surprising power of conscientiousness! I thought those worthy of taking a break from my reading, toast and tea and making this blog entry.

My maternal grandmother was solitary (agoraphobic), melancholy, anxious, although she did have nearby and loving family. She spent her last ten years with dementia. She did have an ordinary but poor diet (a lot of crackers and cheese and tea). My paternal grandmother worked on the boardwalk every summer at the seashore where she lived and at a local department store in the winter. She walked every day and read and made quilts. She had friends and belonged to a movie group as well as the Democratic Women's Club. Both lived into their lat 80's but in dramatically different lives.

Something to ponder as I work my way towrds 80 this year.

Happy trails - wrightj45@yahoo.com

From the Eco-Justice Collaborative Newsletter July 2025

Eat Less Meat! That’s the answer many people give when asked to name the single most effective change we can make in our personal lives to lower greenhouse gas emissions. If you’re looking for protein from sources other than animals, you might be interested in this recording from Climate Action Now’s recent Plant-Based Revolution Climate Action Party. And at the website of the Good Food Institute (gfi), a nonprofit think tank “working to make the global food system better for the planet, people, and animals,” you’ll find their primer, “Alternative Proteins 101.”

As anyone who has followed this blog knows, I have been a vegetarian for most of the past 40 years since I read DIET FOR A SMALL PLANET, by Frances Moore Lappe. To help you, Colonial Diner in Woodbury has a vast menu of vegan items. One of my former favorites, no longer on the menu but very easy to make was: vegan chili in baked potato boats! My vegan chili is so easy: 2 cans of each - red beans, black beans, white beans, a large jar of mild salsa, 2 cans of corn. Bake several potatoes and scrape out the insides (save that to make potato pancakes!) Just put a scoop of chili in each half potato and if you are a vegetarian you can sprinkle some grated cheddar on top, if not, just eat as is or sprinkle some coconut bacon (Vegan item I buy at The Station in Merchantville - very tasty).

I am always trying to adopt more climate freindly hapbits - first, I became a vegetarian. After I bought this house, and read up on permaculture I have long since gotten rid of a lawn in favor of a little shady grove of trees and shrubs. Over the years, we (my daugher and I) planted Christmas trees we bought with root balls instead of cut trees. This past 2024, I started buying sustainable bamboo sourced toilet paper in place of the toilet paper made from Canadian trees. There are many ways I can improve still ahead of me that I haven't adopted yet. Of course, I use only oil cloth shopping bags, but I could get rid of my Dunkin Donut's latte' cardboard cup in favor of a re-usable metal thermos, and one of these days I have to stop using Poland Springs gottled water. I have two great water filter pitchers but I am not good at drinking as much water as I should, and using the bottles is a good way for me to make sure I drink what I should each day. Room for improvement.

Happy Trails! wrightj45@yahoo.com

a Canadian Artist -Salmon Harris

Back in the very early 197's, my then-husband, Michael and I took several trips in our camper VW van across the United States and across Canada, East to West. On one of those trips, we picked up three hitchhikers, not an uncommon thing to do in the trusting 1970's whe so many young people had hit the open road for adventure and travel. We dropped off one, a Quebois whose name I no longer remember, but we kept two and brought them to New Jersey with us for a visit. We had picked them up while headed West and they had taken us around near Vancouver. We visited an artists home and studio, and we hiked up a mountain.

The mountain hike was a disaster for me. I was trying to be strong and equal so I carried my own backpack and I wore new hiking boots. Soon, I was left behind by the two Canadians who wore sneakers and carried very light. I labored the rest of the way in pain, out of breath from the high altitude and with bleeding feet. When I got to the top, I was rescued by a band of women Scouts who took off my blood soaked boots and socks, cleaned my feet and bandaged them while Mike and the Canadians went fishing. They had brought a pretty young woman with them who pranced up the mountain unburdened by anything, like a young mountain goat, free and happy.

I didn't hold a grudge or resentment, but I was sad and I did learn a lesson. I carried too much and since I wasn't as strong as the others, my ex having been in the military and trained for long hikes with heavy packs, I was a fool to carry as much (or more) than they did.

The Canadian artists were a tall, twiggy fellow with a long curly mop of red hair named Salmon Harris. He looked a lot like Bert Lahr as the cowardly lion in The Wizard of Oz. The other artist was a handsome blonde with a large sailing ship tatooed on his chest named Christian Schmidts. They were slyly humorous, good natured, and full of fun.

One of the things I admired most about them was that they had created a fictional vacation camp called Camp Camosun and they had printed bumper stickers and other paper art in relation to it: envenopes with a line drawing of a dog, a scattering of stickers, a World War II airplane for one. I may still have these items lost up in the attic.

I thought this was such a fun and clever kind of art project. They stayed with us in Collingswood for a couple of weeks in our top story apartment with the small landing that was perched into a tree canopy. It was summer. I can't remember a lot from that experience, but I think we took them to the Philadelphia Art Museum. Also, while they were with us, I had gotten an IUD inserted at Planned Parenthood. I had been told it was relatively pain free.

We took LSD while they were with us, and my IUD wasn't at all pain free - it was agonizing as my body attempted to eject the foreign object. My LSD trip was filled with malicious monkeys jeering at me from the tree canopy off our landing.

Over the years, we heard from them by mail. Once about ten years ago, I looked up Salmon Harris and got in touch with him. He was working as a storyboard artist for the film industry: 2010 The Twilight Saga - Eclipse, The Grey 2011 and others. He also published a book of his Art Work which is now out of stock on amazon and for $95 via Diatrope Books. We kept in touch a bit and when I next heard from him he was working as a tax collector in rural British Columbia so that, as he put it, he could be near his son who lived there. The last time I heard from him via e-mail, he was in advertising, developing souvenir materials for tourist development in Summerland, BC. H had, allegedly founded a company to that effect called Samalot. Of course, who knows if that was even true! I sent him some mail there but it was returned as undeliverable. I never heard from him again.

Yesterday, while I was watching a series of natural disaster documentaries, one about snowboarders was set in British Columbia and I thought of Salmon Harris. I googled him and a notice in a Canadian artists' registry gave his death as January 6, 2022. He was born in 1948, three years younger than I am. I couldn't find any more information about him at all, no obituary. I couldn't find anything about Christian Schmitz either. I did find out that Salmon Harris's real name was Frank G. Prodnuk at his graduation from Vancouver School of Art.

It i an all too common event for me now that I look up old friends and find they ahve died. It shouldn't be surprising as I will be 80 on my next birthday and by my age, a lot of people die. I was sorry that I lost touch with Salmon Harris. His comic spirit and his artistic talen were bright like 4th of July sparklers. I remember both of those young men, both young and beautiful, lithe and joyful, ready for life and adventure and full of creative energy and good humor.

During one of my searches, years ago, I had been able to find some of his film storyboard work. I wish I had it in my photo storage but it was long ago. I would have posted it here. He does have a listing in the Internation Movie Database under artists for his film work. Sorry to see you go Salmon Harris - Happy Trails!

wrightj45@yahoo.com

Making friends and living longer

My morning e-mail today contained a CNN report on how socializing is an essential to a longer life. As is so often stated, we are social creatures and increasingly people live isolated lives - delivered meals, work at home, delivered groceries. This CNN article mentioned some ways to find and make new friends. I want to add that making and keeping friends not only lets you live longer, but better!

Let me start with my two newest friends and how I met them and how we developed our budding friendships: A couple of years ago, my brother's granddaughter moved from Philadelphia, Pa. to New Jersey. I had tried off and on to make a greater/warmer relationship with her father, my nephew, but he didn't take to it. Like some other male relatives of mine, he tends toward morose and is not particulary inviting or friendly, so I gave up. His daughter, however, is in education, so we share a career and she is friendly and was receptive to my efforts. We have developed a monthly lunch routine. Today we will be going to lunch at one of two local railroad stations repurposed as cafe's. Developing friendship: I took an active interest in her house hunting projects as well as in her career and I avoided topics where we might not agree - politics, for example. I like my great-niece and she is easy to spend time with. She is polite, pleasant and cheerful.

My newest friendship developed out of an Art Show at one of the repurposed train stations I just mentioned. I show work there regularly in their group shows. At one show, I saw prints by a South Jersey Art Group and inquired into contact information since printmaking was my major at Rutger's the State Univ. for my second bachelor's degree. I contacted the group, joined up and there I met an artist who specializes in Art Journaling, something I have always wanted to get into. We met for lunch and she brought two of her Journals and I was stunned by the beauty and complexity of her work. I bought supplies and got started on one of my own. I hope to meet her again and I will get in touch to try to work out another lunch date, to a place closer to where she lives as she is quite a distance from me.

The CNN article suggested making small talk at group events with people standing or sitting nearby. You have the shared event for a take-off point. We just had a holiday and if you attended a group event, it was a great way to meet new people, staning on the side of the road watching a parade, for example. Attending historic site events as well as celebrations is great for meeting new people! I belong to two historical societies and I get e-mail notifications of their events, that is helpful, as are libraries! I met one of my best friends at a hike with an Outdoor Club decades ago. She wrote a book and I bought a copy.

Because I keep this blog, recently, I heard from a relative I hadn't seen or spoken with in decades. He read one of my blog posts and shares an interest in local history. We have been e-mailing one another weekly ever since! I am also very diligent about birthdays and keeping in touch with old friends and relatives, such as my cousin Patty who lives in Cape May. It is far to drive but I try to get ther one a year.

I have a small group of old work friends who meet seasonally for lunch. Some are still teaching. One of the group of about 6 always takes the initiative to set up our next lunch date.

The neighbor who kindly walks my dog for me each day has a couple of groups of friends he meets for breakfast regularly. Many articles say it is harder for men to maintain friendship groups but my neighbor is a chanpion at it. He has a golfing group, a hgih school classmate group, and he is always present at the games of his granchildren.

Helping a neighbor is a great way to make a friend, as is walking the dog. Both of these have brought new friends into my life. A neighbor I passed frequently while I was walking my dog has become a good friend; we started walking together! And a neighbor with whom I had been discussing an adjoining backyard fence has become a good friend. I introduced them both to one another and the three of us meet for lunch about once a month.

I hope this gives you something to think about and an idea to try out - it reminds me of the girlscout rhyme "Make new friends, but keep the old; one is silver and the other is gold."

wrightj45@yahoo.com

Trends: housing, women's fashion (July 3rd 2025)

Today, in my news feed, I read two interesting articles from The Atlantic, a magaizine to which I used to subscribe before my vision failed so much I have too much trouble reading fine print. Fortunately on the laptop, I can enlarge the print. One article was about how so many people are still flocking to the sunbelt, in particular Arizona and Florida, which was interesting to me because I know of people who are doing that, both relatives of my friends, and people with whom I went to high school. It is surprising to me because I HATE the heat! And I mean I HARE it. I lay the explanation for that at my ancestry: British, German and Scandinavian. These are cool and moist places. My expewrience with Florida came during my marriage when my in-laws retired to New Port Richey on the bay coast. The steamy heat was like living in a sauna, enervating and unpleasant. My favorite seasons are and always have been autumn and Spring. Autumn takes the lead - the cool crisp weather, the taming of the sun.

The article went on to detail many of the detrimental aspects of living in the sunbelt, burned barefeet from the blazing hot sidewalks, windshield wipers melting onto the glass fo the car and the threat of an electrical grid failure which woul allow for people to die of heat in their homes. One thing they didn't mention, in regard to Arizona, was the lack of water. I read once before that deveopments were built that were entirely dependent on trucked in water supplies. The south is steamy and unpleassant, the west is dry dry dry and scorching. I hae a cousin with two sons who live in Arizona and the temperature is regularly over 100.

My other experience with heat was in Morocco, in the desert with my then husband, and the heat was so bad, it scorched my throat and mouth and I couldn't breathe. My body couldn't breathe. Same thing happened in southern Spain. It was unbearable.

If I migrated anywhere, which I would not, it would be north. I wonder why people are going to these places? They mentioned in the article, affordability. Sprawling developments made housing cheaper in those sunbelt regions. I do remember many older pelple talking about how it is more affordable living in certain states. They don't factor in the absence of municipal resoures we take for granted here, liek trash pick-up, municipal sewerage, and municipal water, all things my parents did without when they moved to the mountains of West Virginia. It didn't matter so much when they were in their 60's but when they reached their 70's it mattered a great deal. There was also no snow plowing on the back roads.

True, where I live, the taxes are fairly high. But it is so much easier to live here when you are old. Also there is the factor of old neighborhood living. My little house, where I have lived for 40 years this year 1985-2025, is a five minute drive from the grocery, the pharmacy, any kind of shopping mall or municipal entity. Also, because of our taxes, we have senior/handicapped transport if you don't drive anymore and senior income based housing available if you put your name on the list and wait long enough. I have neighbors I have nown for those 40 years and they help me with my trash and recycle and walking my dog. We share things with one another.

I have said many times before that I love my hosue and I love my neighborhood and town and even my state. No complaints here. No reason to move. I pay fairly high taxes and it is WORTH IT! Also, we have senior/freeze, so my taxes were frozen a decade ago. I pay the full freight but get the difference between the current rate and my rate when it got frozen back in a rebate in the summer which I use to pay the August quarter. My brother who lives in Wewt Virginia has very low taxes and no municipal resources at all. He is much more of a penny pincher than I am and he won't even run his air conditioner to save on electricity!

Here is where the housing and the fashion topics overlap - I thik people moved south and west because it was apopular trentd, something they all talked about and it became a 'fashion' - that's how so many of my high school classmates ended up in The "Villages" in Florida, just like a fashionable trend running through a high school, a kind of shoe (Weejuns) or a kind of backpack. Claire McCardle made a fashion for women that changed our lives in big ways, thank goodness.

I still have a few articles of clothing with no pockets, but not many. Epecially now that I have to carry my cell phone everywhere for my safety as well as convenience, pockets are a necessity, but it wasn't that long ago that most women's clothes had no pockets. And it wasn't that long ago that women worke shoes with high heels even in the daytime. I ust watched two Doris Day movies recently and she was cinched up and crippled into high heels all during her adveture. We had such inconvenient clothing. I grew up in the time before pants were acceptable attire, pretty much anywhere. To work each day all of us women in Phildadelphia offices wore high heeled shoes and skirts and dresses so our legs froze in the winter waiting for the bus!

So today, I am thankful for pockets, flat and comfortable shoes, pants, and those helpful trends. I am aslo grateful for staying in my small and comfy bungalow in a small town in a great state, my good neighors, and even though sometimes too hot, or too cold, mostly temperate and bearable weather. I live in paradise! Glad too that I don't have any arguments with a spouse over "money saving benefits of rural living." A lot of the people I used to speak to at the dog park or other public spaces, it was the husbands who wanted to go south or rural to get out from under taxes or paying for yard care of snow removal. The wives wanted to stay near the children and their communicty conneections. That was certainly the case with my parents. My dad wanted the woods adventure and my mom lost her church friends, ceramics class, neighborhood visits with lifelong girlfriends, and many other social benefits.

Hope wherever you are, you are happy there! Happy Trails! wrightj45@yahoo.com