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Happy birthday Dorothy!

10 Sep

Saturday afternoon I was honored to be on hand for a 100th birthday party held for Dorothy Humphrey. It was held at Cherry Ridge, and attended by a large crowd of friends and relatives, some of whom had come from as far as Colorado.

While Dorothy is technically my neighbor — she still owns the house a few doors down from me on Fuller Ave. in the village, which she and her husband built 75 years ago — she’s lived at Cherry Ridge for several years now. She’s been there since I moved onto Fuller four years ago, so I’d never met her before the party. This was a great opportunity to get to know her a bit better.

Dorothy and I had a very nice conversation, and I met many of her family members, who delighted me with their stories. Like how Dorothy was your stereotypical lunch lady at Spry, how she’d send a dollar bill to every one of her nieces and nephews on their birthdays until they were 16, and how she was a world-class quilter.

Dorothy with my friend Shirley, and sons Dave and Skip
Dorothy visits with Rita, a friend and fellow quilter

Thank you to my friend Shirley, Dorothy’s daughter-in-law, for this opportunity to finally meet my neighbor. And happy 100th birthday Dorothy!

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email me  at missyblog@gmail.com. “Like” this blog on Facebook and follow me on Instagram and Threads (@missyblog)

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(posted 9/10/2023)

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For the love of pickleball

4 Sep

I’d like to give a quick shout-out to a group of people I met Monday who really embrace the idea of community. They are the pickleballers who gather every morning to play at the Ellison Park courts.

I’ve played pickleball before, pre-pandemic, when my Plank North teaching colleagues and I would organize pick-up games after school. I really enjoy the game and miss playing it, now that I’m retired. But I’ve always been hesitant to join an organized league or even go to the Rec Center, because I’ve heard so many stories about how clique-y pickleball players can get. Even though I’m pretty good with a paddle, I wasn’t sure I’d be embraced by a group of established players.

When my friend Carl found out that I play, he invited me to join the Ellison Park gang, assuring me that they were very welcoming. When I arrived at the courts Monday morning, it was immediately clear to me that he was right. I hadn’t even walked all the way up to the first court before someone waved me out to play. He didn’t ask me how long I’d been playing or how good I was. It was just, “C’mon, you wanna play?”

For the next two hours, I played pickleball with Bob, Janice, Bill, Charlie, Goldie, Michelle, Julius and lots others whose names I can’t remember or didn’t get a chance to meet. There were so many players that morning — more than two dozen — that I didn’t play with everyone, but those I did were all friendly, cheerful, encouraging and helpful.

So thank you, Ellison Park pickleball players, for welcoming me into your community so readily. I’ll be seeing you again soon.

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email me  at missyblog@gmail.com. “Like” this blog on Facebook and follow me on Instagram and Threads (@missyblog)

You can also get email notifications every time I post a new blog by using the “Follow Me” link on the right side of this page.

(posted 9/4/2023)

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Thank you, my Webster neighbors, for the cowbells

2 Sep

My personal thank you to everyone who came out for Friday night’s First Responders 5K. This annual race takes runners on a 3.1-mile course from Webster’s Fireman’s Field through east-side village neighborhoods and back.

As usual, I ran the race — it’s one of my favorites since it runs right by my house — and am always appreciative of the families who set up lawn chairs and sit along the route to cheer us on, many with cowbells in hand. (I love cowbells. You can never have enough cowbells.) I especially like it when I can get children to give me high-fives as I pass; they always give me an extra boost of energy.

There were also plenty of volunteer road marshals, which I was happy to see since the call had gone out a few days earlier about the need for more volunteers. They were all smiling and friendly, cheering us on as they directed us down the next street. This race could not happen without them, so thank you very much to all.

I joined my friend Dave again this year for the race, and we both did very well. Could have been the perfect weather, could have been having a good friend at my side pushing me along, but I managed to beat my time from last year.

As usual, my husband and some friends set up a water and beer refreshment stand in the driveway, which I understand many runners took advantage of. The beer especially is a welcome distraction for a lot of participants near the end of the race.

I’m already looking forward to next year.

(Thank you to my friend Karen for the photo above.)

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email me  at missyblog@gmail.com. “Like” this blog on Facebook and follow me on Instagram and Threads (@missyblog)

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(posted 9/2/2023)

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There are fairies among us

1 Sep

I first noticed the fairies a few years ago.

I often head down Dunning Ave. in the village on my morning and evening walks. Shortly after we moved to the village, I began to see fairy doors propped up against several trees in front of the house at the southwest corner of Dunning and Elm, complete with fairies frolicking on the doorsteps. They charmed me so much that two years ago I mentioned them in one of my blogs, where I also wrote about the porches, flowers and other beautiful and whimsical things that make our village so charming.

It wasn’t until a year or more later that I found out the fairy doors are the work of a friend of mine, Peter Elder.

Peter described the fairy-door-making project as an “evolution” which began several years ago with his decision to ring all of his trees with soil and stones. The next step was to plant flowers and various other growing things in the rings. As those gardens matured, he had another idea.

“There are these legends in Irish and Scottish folklore about fairies coming through trees,” he said. So, “I thought it would be a cool idea to do fairy doors.”

That was about five years ago, and the doors stood by themselves for a few years. It was actually his wife Pam’s idea to place fairies near the doors.

What was just a few doors back then has grown to a fairy village of ten doors. Most of them are propped against trees, one is actually nestled in a knot about head-high, and one adorns a butterfly bush in the side yard. Some of the trees have doors on two sides, and most of the doors have fairies in front of them, much to the delight of the adults and children who walk by each day.

Peter tries to get everything planted and set up by Memorial Day, and takes the fairies in at the end of October to protect them from the winter. He’d like to continue adding more doors, perhaps placing a second one at each tree that doesn’t already have two, and finding more hollows to tuck small doors into. There’s always room for more fairies, too.

So keep an eye on the fairies as you make your way down Dunning, because their little village will continue to grow.

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email me  at missyblog@gmail.com. “Like” this blog on Facebook and follow me on Instagram and Threads (@missyblog)

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(posted 9/1/2023)

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Reconnecting with “the boys” — part 3

29 Aug

Those of you who have been following my story of how I became acquainted with “the boys” will be pleased to read this latest installment. (Not familiar with the story? Check out this blog first, then this one to fill in the blanks.)

Early Monday morning, while I was still hugging my first cup of coffee and trying to wake up, I got an email from Tony, one of my original “boys.” Apparently one of the group had seen my blog on Facebook and told the gang about it. They were still meeting at Burger King every day, and he invited me to stop in some morning.

No way was I going to wait for “some morning.” It took me less than a half hour to get myself together and drive to Burger King.

As usual, I was welcomed with big smiles and open arms. Carl brought me a coffee and everyone filled me in on how the group’s been managing. Some old friends have passed away, very few new ones have joined. After bopping around from Hegedorn’s to Bill Gray’s to Guida’s to McDonald’s, they finally settled into the Burger King in Webster Plaza, where they’ve been for more than ten years. The pandemic didn’t even slow them down. When they couldn’t gather in a restaurant, they brought folding chairs and set up in a parking lot, tailgate-style.

The conversations haven’t changed much, focusing mostly on solving the problems of Webster and the world at large. By now, the boys have pretty much got all those problems solved. But that won’t keep them from their regular morning meetings, because, they all agreed, getting together with old friends is a great way to start the day.

And meeting up with old friends was a great way to start my week.

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email me  at missyblog@gmail.com. “Like” this blog on Facebook and follow me on Instagram and Threads (@missyblog)

You can also get email notifications every time I post a new blog by using the “Follow Me” link on the right side of this page.

(posted 8/29/2023)

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Reconnecting with “the boys” — part 2

26 Aug

I never really know when a particular blog will strike a chord with people, and sometimes it really surprises me.

Such is the case with the blog I posted yesterday about “the boys,” the group of guys I would join for coffee some early mornings when my kids were going to Schroeder High School. So many people “liked” and commented on that blog, I thought I’d post a follow-up today. Because I DID meet up with the boys again a few years ago.

So here’s the final installment of the story, which I originally posted on Sept. 20, 2020.

Reconnecting with “the boys”

There’s very little that will get me to set an alarm before 8 a.m. on Sunday morning — or set an alarm at all. But if it meant a chance to reconnect with “the boys,” I was happy to make the sacrifice.

I hadn’t seen the boys in more than ten years. I first met them back in 2008. I had to drive my son to Schroeder very early every Wednesday morning for his chorus practice, and since I didn’t have to be at work that early, I’d stop over to Hegedorn’s and have a cup of coffee.

On those mornings, several guys would be sitting in a nearby booth, drinking coffee and having lively conversations. For a few weeks, I would just sit and listen to their conversations as I read the paper.

In my first blog about “the boys,” on June 6, 2008, I wrote:

The talk bounces from politics to the best hunting and fishing spots, from the weather to the stock market. The conversations are always animated, the opinions always presented with conviction and an “I-don’t-care-if-you-agree-with-me-or-not” attitude. And if I keep my ears open, I occasionally pick up a vital kernel of knowledge such as “Never argue with a proctologist.”

But before long, I started joining in the conversations myself, and unofficially became one of the gang.

I started really looking forward to Wednesday mornings, which turned into Thursday mornings the following year when my daughter entered Schroeder and started chorus.

But early that school year, the boys were displaced when Guida’s Pizza moved into Hegedorn’s. I found them only once or twice after that, hanging out at nearby Bill Gray’s, but soon lost touch.

Until this morning. Thanks to a chance meeting with Tony, one of the original boys, at yesterday’s NEQALS groundbreaking ceremony, I found out that the guys are still meeting every morning, most of the time at Burger King on Hard Rd.

So I got up early and headed on over. I hoped they would remember me.

I shouldn’t have worried. As soon as I walked in I saw the smiles and heard some delighted greetings. The group’s grown a bit — they don’t fit in one, or even two booths anymore — and we’re all ten years older. But the conversations have pretty much remained the same.

And, coincidentally, Doug has a proctologist appointment this week. Hoping he remembers that sage advice from years ago.

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email me  at missyblog@gmail.com. “Like” this blog on Facebook and follow me on Instagram (@missyblog)

You can also get email notifications every time I post a new blog by using the “Follow Me” link on the right side of this page.

(posted 8/26/2023)

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Bygone blog: Wednesday mornings 7 a.m.

25 Aug

I got to thinking about Hegedorn’s recently, and how much I miss it. And THAT got me to thinking about several blogs I wrote over the years about one of my favorite things about Hegedorn’s: “the boys.”

In honor of our hometown grocery store which is no more, and the arrival of the new school year, I pulled out some of those blogs. I present them here as part of my on-again, off-again series of Bygone Blogs, in which I’m re-posting some of my favorite blogs from the last 15 years. This one was originally published on June 4, 2008.

Wednesday mornings 7 a.m.  

One of the things I think I’ll miss most as the school year comes to an end is my Wednesday mornings at Hegedorn’s.

Frequently this year I’ve had to drive my son into school before classes Wednesday mornings for his men’s chorus practice. Early on I decided that just because he had to be at school at 6:45, I didn’t. So I began stopping by Hegedorn’s Cafe for coffee and a paper to fill the time before I had to be at work. That’s how I got to know the boys.

The “boys” are the Wednesday-morning regulars who, like me, make Hegedorn’s their watering hole before heading off to the face their day. They always sit in the same booth, where they proceed to solve the problems of the world.

Settled into a nearby booth, I sip my coffee and read the paper, and occasionally tune into their conversations. The talk bounces from politics to the best hunting and fishing spots, from the weather to the stock market. The conversations are always animated, the opinions always presented with conviction and an “I-don’t-care-if-you-agree-with-me-or-not” attitude. And if I keep my ears open, I occasionally pick up a vital kernel of knowledge such as “Never argue with a proctologist.”

I’ve never really gotten to know my Wednesday morning coffee buddies. The only guy I even know by name is Doug. Even if none of the other boys has yet arrived, I can always count on seeing Doug, sitting in the same spot in the same booth when I walk in. He’s always good for a smile and a wave.

But now that school’s almost over, I won’t need to get up early on Wednesday to drive my son. For that matter, my son’s graduating this year, so there may not be any more early Wednesday mornings for me.

And that makes me sad, because the Hegedorn’s boys always started my day off with a smile. 

* * *

I would write about “the boys” a few more times. The next time was a few weeks later, shortly after the Democrat and Chronicle had published my “Wednesday mornings” blog in the paper...

Last Wednesday morning was fun. The editors at the D&C chose then to re-publish my “Wednesday Mornings 7 a.m.” blog about the “boy’s club” I had gotten to know at Hegedorn’s. I made a point that morning to tuck the paper under my arm and visit Hegedorn’s Cafe one last time before the end of the school year. I wanted to make sure “the boys” saw the paper.

I needn’t have worried. As soon as I walked in I saw that Doug, whom I had mentioned in the blog, had the article spread out on the table, and was calling anyone with earshot to come over and see it. When he saw me, he threw out his arms, gave me a big smile and a bigger hug. He was tickled pink to have seen his name in the paper (although one of Doug’s friends said I should have mentioned that he’s single.) I clearly had made his day. And it was a great way to start mine.

* * *

My daughter entered Schroeder that September and signed up for women’s choir, which meant that I had to drive her to school reallystinkingearly on Monday mornings, which gave me at least another year to visit with the boys before school. But then, in January …

I had a bit of a scare this morning.

I dropped my daughter off early at Schroeder for her a capella group practice as I usually do, and continued to Hegedorn’s to begin the work week with my regular Monday morning cup of coffee and laugh fest with “the Boys.”  But as I drove into the strangely empty parking lot, I saw that the café was dark. The doors were locked.

The Boys were not there.

I had been warned that this day was coming. Plans have been in the works for a while for Guida’s Pizzeria to take over the Bill Gray’s Pizza Café at Hegedorn’s.  Now, the Boys told me they had gotten assurances that the new owners would continue opening early every morning. But who really knew for sure?  

So when I saw the place dark, my heart skipped a beat. “Now wait,” I told myself, “Don’t panic. The Boys said they would leave a note if they were displaced, telling me where they were.”  So I drove by the front door.  Twice.

No note.

So where could they have gone? Starbucks across the street?  Nah, no way. Couldn’t see the Boys at Starbucks.  Maybe Dunkin’ Donuts in the village…that’s a long way to go, and there’s a chance they’re not there, but I could do it and still get to work on time.

Then a flash of brilliance: someone in Hegedorn’s has got to know where they went. Sure enough, I popped into the store, went up to the customer service desk (where they know everything) and was promptly told that the Boys were at Bill Gray’s down the hill.

Sure enough, there they were, packed into two booths like always, solving the problems of the world. My week was saved.

The good news is that Guida’s only needs to close the café for a few weeks for renovations, and then will reopen in the mornings.  So I’m looking at one more morning at Bill Gray’s, then life gets back to normal.

But it really doesn’t matter where the Boys are. (Except maybe Starbucks. I might have to draw the line there.) I’ll always find them, and they will always start my week off with a smile.

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email me  at missyblog@gmail.com. “Like” this blog on Facebook and follow me on Instagram (@missyblog)

You can also get email notifications every time I post a new blog by using the “Follow Me” link on the right side of this page.

(posted 8/25/2023)

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Streets light up for Fourth of July

5 Jul

If you happened to be driving or walking through the Finchingfield Lane neighborhood on Monday night, you would have seen a Fourth-of-July-inspired light display which you likely didn’t expect.

No, it wasn’t fireworks, although they were very much in evidence that evening. It was, instead, a series of 300 luminaria — little white bags, each with its own tealight candle — lining several of the neighborhood’s streets.

The display, which stretched for an estimated half mile along four streets, was the work of Canoe Birch Lane resident Mike Pauly, his wife, daughters, and several very helpful and enthusiastic young neighbors. It’s a project Mike has been doing every year around the Fourth of July for more than 20 years … but not always here in Webster.

Mike and Rachel Pauly (in back) with most of their young helpers
Dougie Gibson lights one of the luminaria

The tradition actually began when he and his family were making regular summer camping trips to Woodstream Campsite in Gainesville.

Mike remembered that a few other families would put about 20 candles out in front of their campers. His father liked the idea and thought they could do it, too. But they weren’t happy with just putting out a few dozen.

“We expanded on it,” Mike said. “It wasn’t long before we put 500 out and filled up most of the campground.” It became an annual project, with kids from all over the campground helping fill the bags and light the candles. After a while, the campground even started offering wagon rides so everyone could enjoy the spectacle.

They don’t make it down to Woodstream much anymore, so they haven’t put out the luminaria for a few years. But last year Mike’s wife Rachel had a great suggestion: why not continue the tradition in their own neighborhood?

And that’s what happened. Last year they started relatively small, putting out 200 luminaria. This year that number grew to 300. Young neighborhood helpers worked for several hours over a few days to fill the bags with sand and place the candles. Then, at about 7 p.m., Mike, Rachel, their two daughters and their team of helpers started working their way through the neighborhood to place the bags. Another trip through to light all the candles, and the streets were glowing. With everyone working together, the whole process only took about an hour and a half.

The result was beautiful, and the reactions have been very positive. “People have been saying, it looks great, thank you for doing it,” Mike said.

Unfortunately, it’s a short-lived display. The candles only last two to four hours, and Mike went around Tuesday morning to collect all the bags. So if you didn’t see them Monday night, you’ll have to wait until next Fourth of July.

Why does Mike continue to do this every year? I never actually asked him, but I can pretty much guess the answer: to bring joy to his neighbors and strangers who walk or drive by, and to bring a little light into everyone’s lives as we celebrate this important holiday.

What a very community-inspired, Webster-like thing to do.

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email me  at missyblog@gmail.com. “Like” this blog on Facebook and follow me on Instagram (@missyblog)

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(posted 7/5/2023)

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Bygone blog — Smelly yellow books

26 Jun

This is the latest in my on-again, off-again series of Bygone Blogs, in which I’m re-posting some of my favorite blogs from the last 15 years. This one was originally published on June 23, 2009, when I was working in the Webster Thomas High School library.

Our set of Encyclopedia Britannicas played a very important part in my young life. I was reminded of them the other day when I was poking through some old books in the attic, and I came across one with a familiar smell.

Smelly Yellow Books

An unfortunate and always difficult job every librarian must face at least once a year is weeding out-of-date and worn books from the collection. No one ever likes to throw out books, but it’s a necessary evil to keep a collection current and make room for new arrivals.

In our library, one thing nearing the end of its lifespan is our World Book encyclopedia set. I’ll be sad when that has to go, because for me it will mean the end of an era.

I remember fondly the Encyclopedia Britannica set we owned when I was a child. It was yellow, had 18 volumes and dark gold-leaf lettering. It resided, very dignified, in the same bookcase in the dining room of every house we lived in. The pages in those volumes guided me through countless school projects and research assignments. Just knowing they were there gave me confidence; I knew I had the resources at my fingertips to get a good grade.

We even used our Britannica to play the “encyclopedia game.” My mother would tell us which volume she had, then start reading the article (saying “blank,” of course, when an obvious word would have given away the answer.) We raced to tell her what the article was about. We loved that game.

And I can still remember how our Britannica set smelled. Robust, and just a little musty. To me, that aroma signified knowledge.

But no one uses encyclopedias anymore, at least ones printed on paper. High schools and public libraries now subscribe to online databases which tap into a thousand times more information than any encyclopedia set could ever offer. Google and Wikipedia are even easier. I think it’s safe to say our library’s World Book set hasn’t seen the light of day in more than a year.

The death of encyclopedia sets is really the end of an era. It’s like another piece of my youth is disappearing. The internet is awesome, and has opened up the world to us. But I hope there will never be a time when our children don’t know what it feels like to turn a page, or hear the snap of the paper…or know the smell of a book.

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email me  at missyblog@gmail.com. “Like” this blog on Facebook and follow me on Instagram.

You can also get email notifications every time I post a new blog by using the “Follow Me” link on the right side of this page.

(Posted 6/26/2023)

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Spam, spam, spam

24 Jun

I’ve written about this before, but I thought I might revisit this topic again today because it continues to amuse me.

If you’re sitting around the house looking for some cheap entertainment, I recommend you check out your spam folder. Don’t worry, if you don’t actually click on a link, you’re safe. I do this every once in a while when I get bored. I visit my Gmail spam folder and see how many people want to give me money or need help carrying all their money-stuffed suitcases to the United States, or consider me a perfect candidate for a cheap loan. (I don’t get the male enhancement ads very much anymore. Maybe they wised up.)

But it’s the comments I get on my blog that really intrigue me. They’re not only a great mental exercise in decryption, but if I’m having a down day, they really do a nice job making me feel … well, accomplished.

Cases in point (these are copied and pasted without any editing):

* * *

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* * *

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in іt оr something. I fwel that уou ϳust can dо with a fеѡ p.c.
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is wonderful blog. Ꭺn excellent rеad. I wіll ԁefinitely bｅ bɑck.

* * *

(And in case I ever doubt my writing ability):

Thаnks for your marvelous posting! I quite enjoyd reading it, ｙoᥙ cɑn be a grеat author.
I wiⅼl bbe sure to bookmark your blog and ԝill evemtually сome baｃk in tthe foreseeable future.
І ԝant to encourage thаt y᧐u continue youг grewat job, hɑvе a nice evening!

Thanks … I guess. I look forward to seeing you come back eventually in the foreseeable future.

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email me  at missyblog@gmail.com. “Like” this blog on Facebook and follow me on Instagram (@missyblog)

You can also get email notifications every time I post a new blog by using the “Follow Me” link on the right side of this page.

(posted 6/24/2023)

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