How to Build a Brick Sidewalk

I always wanted a brick sidewalk. So when I heard that a friends neighbor was giving away old paver bricks. I put dibs on them right away, surely I could build a little walkway around the side of our house? Then I realized this meant I had to haul bricks ASAP, find a place to store them until use, then figure out how in the world to do this.

So I drove my husbands truck to the lady's house and started loading bricks. They were so big and heavy I could hardly hold one in each hand. I carried them 2 by 2 to the bed of the truck and started stacking them.

When I got home I tried the wheelbarrow to move them 60 feet to the site. I was able to handle about 15 before it was too heavy to push. This wasn't working well. So I decided to carefully maneuver the truck sideways in the street, back up over the devils strip and sidewalk, and back up into the side yard, trying to miss the tree, hedges, house, flowerbeds, etc. It really wasn't that hard, just something I'd never done. Now I just had to off-load into stacks by the hedges.

I repeated these steps 3 more times, until I had gathered every brick she had. Now I started thinking about the pattern, width, supplies needed, and why the hell am I so impulsive?

I dug out the area where I wanted the walk, about 8" deep X 44" wide X 2 miles long, and wheelbarrowed about 16-20 loads of sod and soil to the compost pile 200 feet in the back yard. I am a fairly sturdy person, but this was hard work! The bricks were about 4x4x8. I figured on a base of 4" of sand, then the bricks, would make the walk pretty level with the grass.

The next week, I started looking for sand. I had no idea how much I'd need. It turned out all the playbox bags of sand had been sold out for the season in my area. Then I discovered our town has a sandpit. This place had huge mountains of rocks, gravel, sand and big machinery. I found their business trailer, parked and went in. A woman told me sand was $17.50 for a truck load. Perfect, all the sand I could need for only $17.50. She told me to drive on around the other side (she pointed to a mountain of sand behind me), and someone would help me there.

I did that, and within a minute a huge scooper machine drove up and dug into the mountain, backed up and approached the side of my truck. I started getting a little scared. The amount of sand he'd just scooped didn't look like much at all, just a corner of the scoop actually. But he raised it and drove forward until the scoop's shadow covered the truck, and started to dump it. The noise, shaking, and feeling the truck lower under the sand's weight scared me, and after just a few seconds I held my hand up to stop. Just because I wasn't sure how much I could take or the truck could take! The guy backed away and drove off.

So here I was with several tons of sand. I could tell when I put the truck into drive that this might be tricky going home. I drove very slowly and the engine whined. I started braking about 100 feet before each traffic light or stop sign. When I got home, I repeated my operation of backing into the side yard. Now I had to empty the truck (groan). Out came the wheel barrow again. Shovel, fill barrow, carry it to the plastic. I had laid out a plastic tarp because I didn't want the sand to melt into the grass. I kept that up until the truck was empty and I had an enormous sand pile.

Now my husband started getting involved. Ahem. He tried to describe how to build the base. He wanted me to make it slightly higher in the middle so water would run off. He wanted me to level and tamp the soil, then fill the area with sand and tamp it hard and smooth again, then plunk plunk plunk, lay the bricks in place. He said that would be the easiest. Oh, and to use a level going both the length and width so the angles of the bricks would be uniform.

So I leveled and tamped the soil. I lined my path with plastic so grass wouldn't grow up through the bricks. Then I filled the area with sand, tamped that, and finally it was time to start laying the bricks down. This finally felt like the fun part. I had a little stool I sat on to save what was left of my back. I'd carry 8-10 bricks to the work area, and start arranging them. Gradually it started to take shape. Carry bricks, place each one, place the level, hammer the brick (with rubber mallet) and check the level, over and over. I forgot to add I lined the walk edges with plastic landscape border as I went, kept it pushed up against the brick and stabilizing it with sand filled on the outer sides as I progressed. There might be a better way, but with the curves, this was the only method I could think of.

I got as far as the patio to the gate, about 25 feet, and stopped for the summer. I was exhausted. I still had half the walk left undone but my heart wasn't in it anymore. Except for another fun part. I threw buckets of sand over the finished bricks. When it dried out, I swept it, and the sand filled in the cracks and stabilized the bricks. It looks wonderful when it's done!

Finally, as the weather started to cool down, I bricked the rest of the walk toward the front of our house. It was one of the hardest projects I've ever attempted and it was worth the aching muscles, and swollen fingers. I go outside and walk that walk several times a day. I love how the bricks are all different earthy tones, that a little moss has established itself, that my cats use that walk, that it looks so beautiful, and that I built it all by myself for about $17.50. I counted the bricks this morning and was surprised there were exactly 400.

The Kirkbride Plan

This morning I drove north to tour what used to be called the Eastern Ohio Insane Asylum. A woman named Chris, who gave the program talk was very knowledgeable about it's history.

It was built in 1892 by the state. The buildings plans were based on a Dr Thomas Story Kirkbride, who believed that if people with mental issues could live in beautiful surroundings, with views of manicured lovely grounds, seen from any window of the buildings, that their countenance would surely improve, if not heal.

And so this self sufficient little town with hundreds of residents came to be. Eventually the asylum acquired several thousand acres. There they raised cattle, pigs, chickens, planted gardens and orchards, and lived off their land. The residents did much of the work in the barns, fields and kitchens. Many Kirkland-planned facilities looked like huge mansions, 4 and 5 stories tall. The plan put an administration building in the center, then the females lived off wings on one side, the males on the other. The patients who were the least ill and probably would not be staying long lived closest to the center building. The long term care patients lived further away, and the 'violent' ones lived on the edges, to the back.

At this hospital, I learned that it was decided instead of building one huge (and I'm talking castle size) building they would instead spread out. So they built a few hundred cottages on the grounds. The cottages are all now gone, but we saw pictures on a power point program and some were really beautiful homes.

Chris said most of the years the asylum was in operation, that the administrator lived on the grounds with his family. She said she has spoken with people who remember the administrators children being picked up by the school bus. Imagine how that would feel?

During the time Chris was employed there, a new rule said the residents could no longer be required to work where they lived. The livestock had long ago been sold, and the fields sold to a golf course, strip mall, etc. She spoke of one man who always wanted to sweep the dining room after meals. He would sweep, then they would give him his pipe and he'd sit down and smoke it awhile. She said he was very upset when he was told he could no longer sweep.

In the main lobby, there is a little display case with a few archives. It includes a mannequin wearing an old nurse uniform, and a ledger that I read with lots of interest. It's opened so you can only see one page dated 1921. Most of the who people entered there died there, though a few were only there a few weeks. It listed occupations such as farmer and housewife, and ages which were mostly 30's and 40's. It listed country of origin and it was amazing that almost no one was 'American' but it said Czechoslovakia, Hungary, English, Germany, Russia. Some of the reasons for admission were lunacy, menopause, alcoholism and drug addiction. There is also a straight jacket and a metal mesh mask! I also just read here on the internet that families facing the 'embarrassment' of a pregnant daughter would sometimes put her in an insane asylum.

Chris talked a lot about its operation today, in a clean modern large building. She stopped numerous times to give us details through out her power point presentation, then took us on a tour. One area is called 'the mall'. Those who are allowed can shop at a store for clothes, books and magazines & misc. items. There is a library, a music area, an art room, and a kitchenette where they teach cooking. There is a beautiful large gymnasium, the normal size seen in any high school. There are stained glass art works which I heard were made by a husband and wife team from Akron. We saw the dentist office, several medical type examination rooms and a few offices. And there is a large outdoor area with a large gazebo and a basketball court. They even have their own police department there.

Even though it sounds like I'm sugar coating this experience, it was evident that we were in a high security building. There was lots of locking and unlocking of doors. We'd been instructed not to wear anything revealing, too short, too low, or too tight, and they didn't have to tell me twice. The people who are here have committed crimes or tried to hurt themselves and are kept there under the order of a judge, who she said comes once a week to hear assorted patients requests. They are there because they are incompetent to stand trial, or not guilty by reason of insanity.

We were walked through three of the patient areas. Some people had been there a few days, some for 20 years. I won't describe those people in detail, but they weren't very scary or threatening. She said that if there was a yellow sign on an outside ward door, it meant to look before you unlocked it, because someone inside had tried to escape. Every door we entered had a yellow sign on it. So I was a little nervous about that. But they were all relaxed and most were sitting in groups chatting. Most of them waved to us and I wasn't sure if we should wave back, but sometimes we did. Some made comments which were, well, not inappropriate, but off-the-wall.

Their rooms have two beds and have all kinds of safety features to prevent patients from hanging themselves or hurting each other. They were all new and clean looking, and just looked like a regular room to me.

Chris has spent much of her career working in the community. She was very smart, very capable, and I'd want someone like her in my court. She spoke passionately about the problems that people go through when they have serious mental illness. For some years she did the admissions, being the first person a patient would see after some explosive event brought them to her, usually by ambulance or police car.

She said everyone was frightened or very upset and it was up to her to calm the situation down. She said she would explain that she was going to have to ask a lot of questions, but would they like a drink of water first? She hoped that they would later remember that in a worst time of their life, someone offered them a drink of water.

She described the common problem of patients not wanting to take their medications. But she understood it too. For example, she asked us if we were told we had to take a medication, but we could expect to gain about 50 pounds while on it, would we? Or we needed to take a medication, but then couldn't perform sexually, would we take it? Or we couldn't have a glass of wine or some beers with our friends, or we couldn't function at work because we couldn't think clearly, would we?

So it left me a lot to think about, but first I wanted to read about the Kirkbride Hospitals. Check out the link I have found to see pictures of these magnificent buildings.

http://www.kirkbridebuildings.com/buildings/index.html

Attic Orphans

Years ago I had a tortoise shell cat. It's been so long, I can't remember her name. She was a stray that I took in, and she got pregnant pretty fast. She had 3 kittens, two tortoise shells like herself, and a gold tiger male. Their nursery was a spare bedroom in my house.

One day I stopped at a friends house. They weren't home, but their mom was, so I sat at her kitchen table with her and chatted. I noticed an occasional little noise and asked her what in the world WAS that?

She told me that her cat had had kittens in her attic. She thought her cat had been killed on the road a day or two ago. She said "the poor things, they just cry and I don't know what to do about it?"

Well, I brushed my irritation away because that wouldn't help, I had to get those babies some care. I asked the woman how to get into the attic and she told me there was no easy way, and she pointed to a place on the ceiling where there was a square like a window on the ceiling. This turned out to be one of those staircases Chevy Chase encounters in his Christmas Vacation movie. I had to stand on a chair to reach a handle, and pull down. A ladder was folded up into this contraption, so I unfolded it out into the room, steadied myself and headed up.

It didn't take long to find two little gray tiger kittens. I scooped them up and came back down. They were tiny and weak. Their eyes were sunk in, everything was sunk in. They were badly dehydrated. They were about 3 weeks old, just a bit younger than my kittens at home. We couldn't figure out how the mother cat had gotten up there, but it didn't matter now.

I drove home and took the orphans into the bedroom. The mama cat was asleep with her babies. She ignored me when I walked in, so I just carefully laid each baby close to her nipples. The babies dove in. I sat down and watched for a long time. Finally the mama woke up, looked down, sniffed a couple times and started licking them both with vigor. By that evening their little tummies were round, and they had picked up energy. They would would survive! I was SO relieved!

I don't have a picture of those babies, so I've added a picture of my cat Danny. My husband found her in the alley during a bad windstorm a day before my birthday, so I called her my birthday present from him. Then he couldn't say we had to find a home for her. haha

Goat Island

My dad was the eldest of 4, with twin brothers and a little sister. There is a story he used to tell that was always one of my favorites.

I'm not clear on all of the details, but I want to write what I remember. It had to be in the 1930's. Grandma and Grandpa had taken the little sister Leah to have her tonsils removed. Back then doctors often had their offices in the home they lived in, and they removed tonsils right in their office! They left my father Russell, and the twins Gene and Dean, at home on the farm. They didn't know when they'd be back, so I'm sure a list of instructions were left for the boys. One of them was that a load of coal had been ordered and was to be delivered that day; they were to help the coal man.

Their house was located in a valley; and there is a quarter mile gravel lane leading down to it. So on this day, the boys were left on their own for a good part of the day. Dad said they fooled around, and eventually became bored. So they decided to walk to a friends house. I'm sorry I don't know who the friend was. But whoever it was, it had to be a walk as neighbors were quite far apart. They found this friend and decided to go play along the Tuscarawas river, near the White Bridge on Rt 800.

While playing there they found a rowboat. Well, what do you think 4 boys would do when they found a row boat on the shore of a river? And there was an island nearby. I think he called this Goat Island, and said someone kept a herd of goats there. So these boys took that boat and rowed around Tuscarawas River and went to Goat Island to explore/play.

They were gone a long time, hours by now probably. During this time the coal delivery came. There is a basement window where a coal chute from the truck was placed and the coal easily slid down into the basement in the coal room with a little persuasion with shovels. The coal man had no one to open the basement window, so he drove back up the lane and dumped that load at the top by the main road.

When Grandma and Grandpa finally drove home with little Leah, Grandpa was angry to find his coal laying by the road. And when they drove down to the house, the boys were gone. They were in big trouble. So the wait began for Russell, Eugene, and Dean to make their way home.

But...there was a big problem. The boys played all afternoon on that island, but when they decided it was time to leave, the boat was gone! (I remember something about it's owner coming over to get it and leaving them there on purpose on that island, because he was angry they stole it, and was going to teach them a lesson. But that detail I'm not sure about) The boys had no option but to wait for help. Dad said they called and yelled and called some more. But no one heard them.

As it got later and later, Grandma became more and more worried (I can only imagine!). I think they had a phone but I'm not sure. I know they didn't have electricity. Grandpa had to get in his Model T, or whatever they drove, asking around had anyone seen the boys? The news came to them that the boys had been seen heading toward the river. Can you imagine how frightening that must have been for them? Eventually he had a lot of people out hunting for them. And finally someone heard them calling and they were rescued.

The next day, the punishment was that Dad and his brothers had to carry the coal by buckets to the basement. I can only try to imagine how hard that was, but it seems like a pretty good punishment to me.

Added 5/31/09-My brother said I had the story right. He said Dad also was sent to bed without supper, but that Grandma took plate of food to him.

Lamb chops

At our house traditions don't change easily, yet one year my husband announced that a he ordered a leg of lamb for Easter. I was appalled. Everyone knows we have ham and scalloped potatoes and coconut cake made with a fresh coconut, and candy for Easter. I let him take over when the huge bloody thing arrived. Actually it turned my stomach a little. The man he'd ordered it from had butchered it himself and supplied a recipe. I got a little more interested when I saw the list of herbs for the herb rub. And the cream and red wine for the sauce.

So we entered uncharted territory and altered our tradition. We roasted that lamb. We searched for and discarded the fat pocket located above and to the outer area of it's knee. This fat we were told, was what caused the gamey flavor. We bought red potatoes, asparagus, yellow pepper and spring onions. I made a Key Lime Pie.

It was delicious. And we've come to look very forward to it.

This year we changed our lamb cut slightly. The last couple of years we allowed our dog to eat at the leftover lamb leg and it made him feel kind of sick, so this year, so we won't feel compelled to share, I bought two boneless leg roasts.

Here's our recipe (which I'll alter because now we have boneless lamb:

8 pound leg of lamb
2 tablespoons of olive oil

Put the lamb in the largest roaster you have. Preheat oven to 450 degrees. Score the fat in diamond shapes. Peel a bunch of garlic and make little stabs all over the lamb and sick the garlic down into the slits. Then cover the lamb with the olive oil. Use your hands, this is the fun part.

Mix in a bowl:
1 tsp of each
thyme, basil, rosemary, tarragon, marjoram, oregano, 4 tsp of parsley and 1/2 tsp of black pepper.

Pat the herbs all over the lamb. Put it in the oven uncovered for 10 minutes then reduce the oven to 350 degrees and roast it for 90 minutes. Then arrange red potatoes, spring onions, and a yellow pepper cut into strips. Roast it for another hour or until the lamb is 160 degrees.

Move all the meat and vegetables out of the roaster and in that pan use 2 tablespoons of fat, 1/2 cup dry red wine, and cook til reduced by half. Add one cup beef broth and cook til reduced by half. Add 1/2 cup of half and half or cream and cook until it coats the back of a spoon. This is your gourmet sauce. (This year we tripled this recipe because the sauce is so good!)

We serve this with asparagus and coleslaw or a salad. It's fun to open a bottle of champagne at some point during the cooking, to help celebrate the beginning of spring.

Crossing the Street

The rule was that NO ONE was allowed to cross the street. Under any circumstances.

In 1956, I crossed the street to go to the Eisenhower campaign headquarters. It was located in a house right beside the Goshen Dairy. I had found out they were giving away free campaign buttons. They gave me one; it had a little metal tab you folded down to pinch on to your shirt. Then I found what I really wanted. There, under glass in a display case with stickers and other campaign stuff was the most beautiful pin I'd ever seen! IKE spelled out in RW&B rhinestones! I was spellbound with it and it wasn't free or cheap, I think it was $3.00! So much money! I remember the ladies telling me to go home when I hung there too long.

Another incident when I crossed the street was after a summer storm. My parents had left to run some errands. My friend Becky and I were playing in my yard when we heard sirens! Sirens in my town were something not often heard and always reason for possible excitement. Becky and I could clearly hear them very close by. We couldn't resist and crossed 3rd street and continued down Ashwood Lane. We saw nothing on 4th St. So we crossed it and headed down to 5th. I could see people ahead and with excitement we ran up the alley toward what now we could see were fire trucks, police cars and lots of people.

The problem was a tree limb had fallen and taken an electric line with it. The wire was live and was sparking and dancing around right at the opening of the alley and 5th St. No one was near it-except us. The crowd watched as a fireman walked toward us keeping a safe distance from the wire. Then I saw them. My parents were standing in the crowd. I was totally busted. I knew where I was supposed to be, and it wasn't there. I started to cry and every one thought it was because I was hurt. The fireman asked me if I was ok and nodded yes. He took my hand and led us safely away. My parents confiscated me. Looking back, I realized they both had fear in their eyes and weren't thinking about scolding me.



And finally my favorite experience associated with crossing the street. I mentioned that we lived very close to the Goshen Dairy? It was a wonderful place. Ice cream cones were 5¢ for one scoop, 10¢ for 2 scoops. High up on a shelf on the back wall behind the counter were two giant fake ice cream cones. I think one had one scoop of vanilla with a chocolate scoop on top. The other one was identical but I think with vanilla and strawberry. My favorites-chocolate, chocolate ripple, butterscotch ripple, White House, and raspberry, orange, or pineapple sherbert. I spell it like we pronounced it. Sherbert.

Anyway, this dairy delivered milk. All day long the horse pulled yellow wagons that said Goshen Dairy on the sides. The horses lived behind the dairy. Their stalls were right off the alley and as you walked by, sometimes you'd see a horse or two standing in there.



Well, one day I had again crossed the street and walked up the alley to see the horses. There were little kittens playing in the hay. Even today, a sight like that will bring me to a screeching stop. And so it did that day. I walked into the corner of that barn, sat in the hay and pulled kittens into my lap. I held kittens all day. I held them as they slept, tried to play, played with my fingers, met their mother and petted her. I held each one as tenderly as I could and carefully put them all to sleep. I held them and held them and held them.

I wasn't allowed to hold cats. I was allergic to a lot of things back then. I'd never held one in my life, but that day I more than made for any shortage I might have felt. Finally a man spotted me and told me to leave. Even at that age I knew I was some place I wasn't really supposed to be, and I left wheezing. But it was worth it.

Our Mothers Day-Well, Actually the Day Before

I found this email I'd sent to a friend....Hi Jane, the wedding shower yesterday was very nice. Dianne had some really cute ideas for it, I'll tell you about them when we talk. When I got home, Tom was in an awful mood! We were planning to stain the cement block of our patio. Before I left for the wedding shower yesterday morning, I had gone over every square inch and cleaned it really well, so that after Tom got home from getting his moms shopping finished, he could just slap on the stain, and it would be done. We had two 1/2 gallons of old stain we had used on it in previous years, and he just poured them together, mixed them up, added a bit of water to thin it a bit and set to work. The last time we did it, it took about 1/2 hour to actually paint, and I bet it has been at least 4 years since we last did it. So it really did need stained again.

Well, when I got home at 3pm, he had only done a tiny portion, and it was all blotchy, and didn't look right at all! He was mad, he'd had to go to all these stores for his mom, and to find paint rollers, and to JoAnns for two chairs I wanted for Mothers Day. And he was hot, the temp was in the 80’s, and it turned out the old stain he had applied wasn't working out so he'd gone down to Lowes to get fresh stain. He said the stores were so busy you couldn't move, which made him even frustrated because he doesn't like shopping in the first place. Tom picked out a color that was close to what we used in the past, but it was very different once we opened it. Before, we stained it in a red brick color, this new color was the color of a clay pot, and I loved it! But since it was different he was very upset.

So I said I LOVE it, lets start painting. And he said no, that f*cking cheap paint roller I bought at Giant Eagle isn't worth a crap, go to Drug Mart and buy me one that says "for rough texture". So off I go. I was wearing the shoes I wore to the shower and they were killing my feet! I could hardly walk through Drug Mart! But I limped through, and bought two rollers, so I could also roll and help him get this job done double fast.

So I got back home, changed my clothes, and we started putting the stain on, and we were both so hot, and he was so p*ssed and frustrated. You see, you aren't supposed to walk on new stain for 24 hours, and he'd wanted it finished by 2pm, so when we have our 'Mothers Day cookout' tomorrow the 24 hours would be up. But here it was, 5pm, and we were just putting the new color down. And guess what, since it is a new color it needs two coats, you can see the brick red color through it.

Also, I didn't say any thing, but when he was at Lowes, he bought semitransparent stain, while before we bought, I'm pretty sure, opaque stain. There is a difference, but he was so p*ssed I didn't want to point out another mistake he'd made. And in-between all this, he's saying put the leash on the dog and take him out to pee, (cause he can't be outside cause he'll walk on the new stain), so I'm trying to do this too, and the phone must have rung 10 times, my persistent brother had left 14 messages wanting us to come out to the farm for a weenie roast last night, and was calling every 10 minutes to see if we were interested. And to say that by the way, he had a flat time on the lawnmower, and could Tom fix it. So Tom wouldn't answer the phone, so he just kept calling all day.

Tom had wrapped an electrical cord around our gate entrance on the patio to keep anyone from entering there. Well, my brother has this inclination where if he doesn’t hear from you, he will just drive over to see you physically. So of course he showed up. Tom and I are working so hard we are out of breath, and brother heads out the back door. He stopped before stepping onto the fresh stain thank God. He made his way into the back yard, standing around and it just makes for some more tension, you know.

Then Brian came, and had brought me a new red dogwood tree, a Mothers Day gift from him and Mike, and he wanted to plant it right now. I wasn't unappreciative, but the timing was quite off. Well, he has to get shovels, and tools from the garage. and the location I want it is where our old dogwood was, and all that's left is a stump, and I want the stump removed first. So Brian is dragging tools around the patio, into the front yard. Tom goes into the house for something and Cecile the cat wants out to pee. But when he opened the front door for her, she heard Brian hitting the stump with a sledge hammer, and it scared her, and she wouldn't go outside. Tom saw her go back behind our desk, where she has peed before; we spent a week getting that stain out about a month ago. He chased her away from there and said she ran upstairs, so we don't know what she did. But that's another story, about the cat and her aversion to the litter box.

I finally gave into his bad mood, and now it was me saying f*ck this, and f*ck that, and you know what? Now HE feels better, and I'm p*ssed.

So that is the story of yesterday afternoon. We finally finished, cleaned up the paint mess, ate, and relaxed. Today we will put together my two new Adirondack Mothers Day chairs, and put the patio back together, go to the store for groceries, which we didn't have the time or energy to do yesterday, mulch the new tree, (it is beautiful), go get Evelyn, get the boys over here to cook chicken for their mom and grandma and Uncle Frank, and who knows what else will come up, but I have a feeling it will.

Anyway, happy Mothers Day to you!

Enjoy! You cute little Aunts

I collect old costume jewelry. (notice I call myself magpie?) About once a year I sort through it and decide on quite a few pieces to share with my husband's two favorite Aunts. One is Mary Jo or Jo, the other is Norma. And today is the day, because I have two boxes ready to mail. Mary Jo, like me, wants rhinestones. So I chose some Coro, Sarah Coventry, and other gorgeous pieces that I know she will love.

Norma has worked in an art gallery since ~ 1964. She is so cool you wouldn't believe, steady as a rock, and sweet as can be. She lived in the same apartment until just a few years ago, the top floor in a century old brick home. She has had the same job and the same boyfriend all her life. Every Saturday night they would go on their date, and ONLY on Sat. night. Norma has never driven, and takes a bus everywhere she goes, or she walks. She walks 2,3,4 miles a day and has really all her life. Though she is past retirement age, she still works at that gallery.

Norma has been exposed to so many artists and beautiful works, that her style is much more sophisticated than many, and I don't have a lot of jewelry she would like (I don't think), but I try to send her unusual pieces. The above print is from a Miriam Haskell ad, and is how I picture Aunt Jo and Aunt Norma back in the 30's or 40's.

Childhood Rhyme

I've heard this a thousand times. I learned it from my father, who learned it from his father, who learned it from his father. Dad would rock the babies and pat their bottom to the rhythm:

Mikie Bum Bike-y
Tee Lie Da Go Fike-y
Tee Legged, Tie Legged, Bow-legged Mikey

Or

Frankie Bum Bankie
Tee Lie Da Go Fankie
Tee Legged, Tie Legged, Bow-legged Frankie

Or

Brian Bum Bye-an
Tee Lie Da Go Fie-an
Tee Legged, Tie Legged, Bow-legged Brian

My best friend gave me Paul Potts new CD for Christmas. If you don't know his story, you can pretty much figure it out watching this first youtube video. They second one is a just a recording of a song from his new video, "You Raise Me Up". Excellent listening, don't click the back button until you hear them!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NLF9iEXnBRo

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kfg9qOHSgi0