Saturday, March 11, 2017

Sepia Saturday #358



STORMY WEATHER

Today's Sepia Saturday prompt (Thanks, Alan!) offers us a middle-aged couple, Phillip and Frederica Wylie, affectionately sharing a moment while listening to a weather broadcast on a radio in Miami Beach, FL. Now, as someone who grew up with a red transistor radio glued to her hip, who remembers when all the good songs were still being played on AM and who waited each week for Casey Kasem's long-distance dedications, I would have loved to do a Sepia Saturday post about radio.

Sadly, I have no pictures that do justice to that latent passion of mine. I don't even have a photo with a radio in it.

So ...

Let's talk about weather.

It stands to reason that if the Wylies are living in Miami Beach and they're glued to the weather broadcast, then there's probably a storm brewing. And we all know that if there's a storm brewing in Florida, it usually gets a name and a big spiral on the radar map to call its own.

June 22, 1972. I didn't live in Florida; I lived smack dab in the middle of Pennsylvania. But Hurricane Agnes didn't discriminate; she barreled up the Eastern Seaboard with a vengeance, leaving death and destruction in her wake. My little hometown, situated on the banks of the Susquehanna River, didn't stand a chance.


The photo above was taken by my father from the little bit of dry land where the end of my street met the four-lane highway that ran through town. There was a creek which ran just to the north of my housing development, and its overflowing waters extended the river's reach in this part of town. 

Ten inches of rain fell in a matter of days, and by the time it was over, entire communities had been destroyed. My parents had a radio on top of the refrigerator in the kitchen, and every day at noon my father would come home for lunch. And every day, while eating lunch, they listened to the news on WKOK out of Sunbury, PA. That June, I can remember the reports of the storm and the flooding -- Sunbury is another river town and it received extensive damage, as well. Harrisburg, the state capital, was hit hard, too; even the Governor's Mansion was under water:


Cleanup was a long and arduous process. The receding floodwaters left knee-high mud in its wake, (photos of which, surprisingly, I could not find on the internet) and the damages totaled $2.1 billion, an astronomical sum at a time. Today, that would equal over $12.2 billion. My parents were lucky. Living where they did, the most they suffered was a few inches of water in our basement and some time off work. Others weren't so fortunate.


And what did fashionable 7 year olds wear when venturing forth to view flood damage? Only the latest in print polyester pants and waterproof rain gear.


Just FYI, on June 24, 1972 the #1 song on Billboard's Top 100 was Sammy Davis Jr's "The Candy Man." My little red radio also played "Heart of Gold" (Neil Young), "A Horse with No Name" (America), "Doctor My Eyes" (Jackson Browne) and "Rocket Man" (Elton John). 

I'll leave you with this, another 1972 classic:


For more Sepia Saturday fun, click HERE!!

Monday, December 5, 2016

Sepia Saturday #346


Two days late and waaaay too many dollars short ...

Alan's December 3 prompt, along with Deb Gould's post in response to the prompt, had me immediately thinking of the childhood anticipation of Christmas. Just like summer vacation from school seemed to last a lifetime, the wait from Thanksgiving until Christmas seemed to go on interminably. Of course, back then the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade was a real, much lauded thing and the arrival of Santa Claus at the end of the parade heralded in the Christmas shopping season (unlike now, when it often preceeds the arrival of the Great Pumpkin). And one thing every anxious child pestered about was the setting up of the Christmas tree.



Now, as long as I can remember, my parents had an artificial Christmas tree, which meant that it could be set up and decorated anytime my father got tired of my constant whining and pleading and gave in. Believe me, I was an expert at Christmas Tree Whining, a genetic anomaly that I have since passed on to my younger daughter, who has turned it into an art form. Over the years, my mother had various themed trees, depending on whim and "fashion," from monochromatic bows-n-balls, to birds, to a mishmash of collectibles. In turn, my trees have been a combination of real and artificial, with no theme whatsoever. But no tree I have ever seen, or ever even imagined, has quite equaled my Grandma Shaffer's.


This is me, Christmas 1966.


And this, in the corner of the photo, is what she affectionately called "The Umbrella Tree."

The umbrella tree was exactly what it sounds like: the carcass of an old umbrella, fabric removed, set up in a tree shape and decorated with tinsel garland and Christmas balls. Easy to set up, easy to take down, and unique in every way. We know this quirky little tree dates back at least as far as the 1950s, because my sister remembers it as a child, too. We don't know if my grandmother ever had a "real" Christmas tree, but the one she had was certainly memorable! 

Today, it makes its home with my cousin -- I don't know if he ever sets it up, or if it's in a box somewhere in his attic and he just doesn't have the heart to throw it away. But I sincerely hope that at least once he will decide to bring it out and dust it off, and set it up for his grandchildren to wonder at. 

As Dean Martin sang, "Memories are made of this."

For other Sepia Saturday posts, click ==> HERE!

Friday, May 1, 2015

Day Five: To the Victor Belong the Spoils

This is what I have left after a week of Living Below the Line ... a half bag of Uncle Ben's. Slightly more than half a bag, actually, since I only cooked two cups dry and I still have some of that left, too. Tomorrow I'll make some, lengthy, insightful post about what lessons I'm taking away from this experience (and all flippancy aside, I have learned quite a bit). But for now, in these closing hours of the challenge week, I just want to mention a few of the physical changes I've noticed in myself after living like this for five days.

~~Most days, when meal time rolled around, I ate way too fast. And it was very hard to slow down, because there was this little voice in my head squealing "OMG! Food!" like a toddler on a sugar high. Of course, just like your mom always warned you, when you eat too fast you end up with a tummy ache. And I did. Frequently.

~~The lack of vegetable fiber (and other things, I'm sure) caused a definite change in the way my digestive system processed food.

~~The caffeine withdrawal headache finally disappeared by Wednesday evening.

~~Lethargy, although I'm not certain how much of that was nutritional and how much was lack of caffeine. It's surprising how much coffee and tea actually sustain me. Thank goodness I'm not a soda drinker or it could have been worse.

~~I didn't notice a marked decrease in cognitive abilities until today, when things like being more forgetful than normal, having to recount things three or four times because I kept losing count or wouldn't get the right number, making lots of simple mistakes that shouldn't have been an issue all made an appearance. It was frustrating to look at someone I've known for years and not only call them by the wrong first name, but completely forget their last name, Not cool.

I believe I had it slightly easier than some who've taken this challenge simply because I had a little bit more food at my disposal this week. The buying power of the dollar in the rural area where I live is stronger than in other, more urban areas. If I lived in a city -- London, NY, Los Angeles -- I would have had a horrific time feeding myself even half as well on $1.50 a day. Nonetheless, I went to bed hungry, got up hungry, and by the third day thoroughly disliked almost everything I had to eat. It may have filled my stomach, even if only temporarily, but it never satisfied.

But isn't that the point? No matter where you live, big city, small town, rural village, $1.50 does not provide enough nourishing food and drink to sustain you in a healthy fashion. Eventually your body begins to suffer. There are so many children in this world who live below the extreme poverty line. They may try to go to work or to school hungry, or they may not even have those options. Someone needs to help give them those options. Someone needs to help feed them and nourish them and give them hope for a brighter future. Because these children, these little ones who are stricken with hunger and disease and who never learn to read and write, they are our future. They deserve to have a future, one without pain and suffering.


Please consider a donation. Even a few dollars will help. And if you can change the life of one child, then this has all been worth it.

You can donate by clicking ==> HERE! 

Thursday, April 30, 2015

Day Four = Turn Four

I'm not a NASCAR fan, but I've been exposed to the sport enough over the years to be fairly well-versed in the lingo. Today, for me, is the equivalent of Turn Four on the race track. I'm coming into the homestretch and the finish line is in sight. 

But what if you aren't the race leader? What if you aren't even in the lead lap? What if you're so many laps down that it's doubtful you'll even actually finish the race, stuck in the "left-turn-left-turn-left-turn" rut, with no hope of pulling ahead? 

Okay, I've exhausted the metaphor, but you see my point, right? I get to finish this five-day race, but for millions of children around the world, extreme poverty has wrecked them beyond hope. 

I skipped breakfast today, not an unusual occurance for me, especially if I'm busy. But I didn't skip a meal because I was distracted, I skipped it out of necessity because, despite what I thought was careful planning, I find myself running out of food. I had planned on eating whatever was left from the week for dinner tomorrow evening, but I found that I would have only been left with plain brown rice and a few slices of bread. Yes, I could have had toast, but by eliminating a meal and shuffling some ingredients around I can actually have my last pack of ramen with my last remaining egg, stir fried together.  

Even with so little left, I still have options. So many people the world over just don't have options. they run the race, but never gain in the rankings, never get ahead, never cross the finish line. I want to help give them options. I want to help break the left turn cycle. Won't you please join me? Even a small donation -- the equivalent of the cost of tomorrow's lunch -- can be enough to make a difference in the life of a child. And don't we all deserve a shot at the winner's circle? 

Wanna help? Clicky ==> HERE!

Wednesday, April 29, 2015

Humpday ... Two More to Go

Not that I'm counting down or anything, mind you. But tonight it was all I could do not to lick the glaze off my plate after eating. That would have been extremely uncouth. And unproductive, as it wouldn't have garnered me much in the way of edible mouthfuls anyway.  
So, what did I learn today? 

I don't want to talk about food anymore.

It's amazing, really how much of our lives, at least here in the US, are consumed with the making, eating, discussing, photographing, blogging about,and filming of food.  We create competitions around it. We earn awards for it. We go to special schools to learn how to prepare it exceptionally well. There are whole television channels devoted to the exploration of it.  We are told by the government how to eat healthy, and we are told by a myriad of "best selling" self-help gurus how to eat to lose weight, land that perfect job, romance Mr/Ms Right or improve our sex life with the significant other we already have. 

Food is everywhere, and it isn't until you can't partake in it that you become more sensitive to its proliferation. And today was the first time that listening to people discuss food began to bother me. Usually, for me, that kind of thing is easily ignored. The last two evenings I've sat beside people eating honey bourbon smoked sausages and fried chicken with only minor salivation. But the longer the week drags on, the more sensitive I become to what others have and, more specifically, what I do not. 

How discouraging it must feel to someone who doesn't have the money to participate in the overwhelmingly rampant consumerism found in a country such as the US. For someone below the extreme poverty level, who might be lucky to have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, it could be emotionally as well as physically devastating.  

There's a light at the end of the tunnel for me. But for millions of people around the US and around the world, this just isn't the case. Won't you please join me in helping to end the disparity? Won't you please consider even a $5 or $10 donation? Every little bit helps, and if together we can change the life of one child, then this week will have all been worth it. 
You can donate online HERE.

Tuesday, April 28, 2015


Raw carrots and I share a rather jaded past. While most people I know would wholehearted grab a handful when on a diet or when wishing to eat something a bit healthier for lunch than Doritos or Butterscotch Krimpets, I personally would favor the more neglected vegetables on the tray -- broccoli, cauliflower, cucumbers, etc. But as I sit here at my kitchen table on the downward slide towards the end of day two of Living Below the Line, I can honestly say that I have never, ever tasted anything sweeter. 

I'd also like to confirm, in case there was any doubt, that I really don't like brown rice all that much. Especially by itself. 

Brown rice was my staple of choice for lunch today, along with some cooked mixed vegetables tossed in. But the vegetables didn't stretch nearly far enough and I had leftover rice which I either had to eat or be hungry. I actually threw some away. The rice I had eaten, coupled with the water I'd been drinking all day, lay congealed in my stomach like a glob of library paste. 

Sorry. Unpleasant and inappropriately graphic. Or is it? For so many people, just a simple staple like that brown rice is all they have to eat for a meal, maybe for the only meal they'll have on any given day. No vegetables. No meat. No seasoning. Just rice, or whatever they can get their hands on. I reached a point today where I was done eating, regardless of the fact that I was still hungry. I knew there would be some kind of alternative waiting for me when I got home. And the carrots, despite the fact that they normally only get 3.5 stars out of 5 from me, are right now the best tasting things in the world. 

But if all I had was that one meal ...if I didn't have that $0.29 bag of carrots in the crisper ... would I honestly look forward to the next meal? Extreme poverty robs you not only of the nutrition your body needs to remain healthy and survive, but it also robs you of variety, and of choice. Please help me bring health and nutrition and choice to those in need. Your donation, no matter how small, can help ensure that a child gets much needed food, as well as medicine, vaccines and educational supplies. Won't you please help make a difference in the life of a child?   

Want to help make a difference in the life of a child? Visit my Live Below the Line page HERE to make your donation, no matter how large or small. All help is greatly appreciated!

Monday, April 27, 2015

Day One: A Lesson in Moderation


As far as first days go, today wasn't too bad.Slight headache this evening, which I expected, since I actually quit caffeine cold turkey on Saturday, so this is Day Three without my morning cup of personality. Because I was able to procure inexpensive eggs, I had eggs and toast for breakfast, which helped though. Lunch was ramen and my afternoon snack was some carrots. 
By the time I got to eat dinner, which consisted of four of the little potatoes and half the can of pork-n-beans, I was hungry but not ravenous. I counted the slices of bread in the loaf ... if I get hungry tonight I can have a piece of toast as a snack, but unfortunately I don't think that can be an every night occurance or I'll run out of bread before the end of the week. 

Moderation. 

A friend of mine in Southern California took my purchase list and did a price comparison in her local grocery store. Now, I have to admit, I tried to get as much "bang for my buck" as I possibly could, choosing straight-from-the-coop eggs and canned goods from the local bent-n-dent. Her purchase total was a staggering $20.67 as compared to my $7.31. Incredible. Which means if I find this challenging here ... 

According to UNICEF, 22,000 children die each day due to the ravages of extreme poverty. That is a shocking and heartbreaking statistic. So many young lives, so much suffering, so much wasted potential. Who knows what those young minds could have produced had they received the proper nourishment, healthcare and education.

Want to help in the fight against extreme poverty? Visit my Live Below the Line page HERE to add your support.

Saturday, April 25, 2015

Round Two ... and I'm Broke!



Second round of Live Below the Line shopping this afternoon completed. I went to a local bent-n-dent and did well, I think. A loaf of whole grain bread for $1.00, a bag of brown rice for $1.00, a pound bag of frozen mixed vegetables for $0.99, a can of pork & beans for $0.39, a can of southern seasoned black eyed peas for $0.50, a can of seasoned diced tomatoes for $0.40 and a pound brick of margarine for $0.50. Total spent today was $4.78, for a grand total of $7.31.That means maybe one day this week I can splurge on a cup of coffee or a cup of tea with the extra $0.19.

The menu is all planned -- I think what will be the hardest to deal with is the lack of variety. Nothing flavored to drink at all. No meat, no spices or seasonings other than what's in the beans and tomatoes. I can imagine how having to deal with that every day indefinitely could quickly become discouraging.  And I'm very fortunate in that I live in an area where the cost of living is lower than in some places around the country and around the world. A friend of mine who lives in southern California said that she absolutely could not see how anyone in the Los Angeles area could survive on $1.50 a day. Here in rural Pennsylvania, our incomes may be lower but things cost less and our money stretches a bit further than it does in more urban areas. Nonetheless, it's still a challenge.

Want to help end extreme poverty? Visit my page HERE and lend your support with an online donation, or leave me a comment if you want instructions on how to send a check.

Friday, April 24, 2015

The First Round of Shopping ...

... is done. I've had lots of helpful suggestions from friends and co-workers, for which I'm very grateful. So far I have a dozen eggs for $1, three packs of ramen for $0.45, a bag of baby carrots for $0.29 and a bag of potato "fingerlings" for $0.79. $2.53 spent, $4.97 to go.
Want to donate to help end extreme poverty?
https://www.livebelowtheline.com/me/patty

Thursday, April 23, 2015

Living Below the Line


Psyching Myself Up to Live on $1.50/Day

I have often joked about things being a "first world problem." But over the last six months or so, I've found myself often assessing a situation using that very criteria. Having worked with the public most of my adult life, I've been afforded the opportunity to listen to my share of complaints and whining. And there have been times when I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying, "Do you understand how privileged you really are?" I have to remind myself of this, too, when I fall into the complaining trap -- when I whine because I'm frustrated with my cell phone and vow to get the one I really want next time; when I grumble because I live too far out of town for takeout deliveries; when I roll my eyes and grit my teeth because my internet connection is slow. 

First world problems. 

There have been times in my life where my family has lived paycheck-to-paycheck and that paycheck hasn't stretched quite far enough. We "robbed Peter to pay Paul" and did without any of the extras just so that we could buy groceries. Thankfully, we never fell below that extreme poverty line and we have recovered to a place where we are comfortable now. Perhaps that's why this campaign resonates so much with me -- because when I was at my lowest, when anxiety and worry kept me from sleeping at night -- it was the hopelessness that weighed on me the most. I never saw a light at the end of the tunnel. I want to help those who suffer from extreme poverty see the light at the end of the tunnel. I want to help give them hope that someday things will get better. I want them to know that someone cares. 

What is Live Below the Line? It's a campaign to fight extreme poverty worldwide. By agreeing to eat and drink on $1.50/day for five days, you help bring awareness to the ravages of extreme poverty and those who suffer because of it. There were several charities to partner with, and I have chosen to partner with UNICEF, a long-standing and well-known organization devoted to bringing relief to children and their families by providing food, vitamins, vaccines, clean water, educational materials and disaster relief.

I'm not going to lie ... next week is going to be difficult. I've already started planning out my menu and I've made a basic shopping list. I'm lucky that I live close to a bent-n-dent grocery store where I can purchase foodstuffs for cheap so my $7.50 will stretch just a bit further. Items are hit-or-miss there, so I have no idea what I'll find when I go shopping but I'm looking forward to that challenge, too. I know my week will end up being very carb-heavy, which is not something I'm used to, but I already know I'm getting fresh eggs for $1.00/dozen, which is fabulous, and a pound bag of frozen mixed vegetables for $0.99. Ramen is only $0.15 each and I can get a couple of bananas for $0.39/lb there. Cans of beans are $0.40 each. Rice can be had for less than a dollar. Oh, and a loaf of bread ... I may hit the regular grocery store day-old shelf for that, if they have any. 

So, having preached about first world problems, (sorry about that, by the way) will I keep my smartphone and my internet? Of course I will. And next week will be a tangible reminder of what's important and where my priorities should lie.

Want to donate and help me fight extreme poverty? Please visit my LBTL page HERE.