TARYTERRE: July 2020

Friday, July 31, 2020

Bubbles and Eureka Springs

Years ago, the hubby and I took a trip to Arkansas. We went to Eureka Springs in the Ozark Mountains. It was a quaint town with lots of original Victorian buildings. The town is built around the city’s natural springs and was incorporated in 1880. It is on the National Register of Historic Places. The Native Americans and European folks, who settled there once upon a time, claimed the springs had great HEALING powers. When word of the miraculous individual healings that had occurred, spread… thousands of people flocked to the area to see for themselves. From then on, the community marketed the springs as therapeutic. As a result, Eureka Springs became a vacation destination and retirement Mecca for more than a century. One of the reasons we stopped there was because of their reputation for healing. But also… as lovers of art in many forms, my hubby and I had heard through the grapevine… that there were numerous eclectic shops in the old buildings, throughout the city. That intrigued us. So we parked our car and set out to explore. It was challenging walking up and down the streets there, though… because of the steep winding pathways and mountainous terrain. But headed downhill on our jaunt, we saw bubbles wafting through the air. The further down the hill we went, the more and more bubbles filled the sky. We got immersed in them. They were iridescent and the effect was magical and mezmerizing. We found our Zen. When we finally reached the bottom of the path… sitting outside the shop, was a very interesting character, dressed in period costume…. manning the bubble machine that produced the bubbles… that had peaked our curiousity. We had a delightful time discovering this hidden gem and the handcrafted items inside. We were there for at least an hour or longer, looking at all the treasures. (Try as I might, I can't remember this shop's name) Afterwards, we went on to other sights, but the little whimsical shop, with the bubbles... from that moment on, held a special place in my heart. It became one of the most memorable excursions in my life, and taught me how to heal myself, without the springs themselves. Whenever the stress of the day or a situation seems impossible in my world, silly as it sounds, I blow bubbles. It calms my nerves and invigorates my senses. It takes me to a place of serenity and peace. When I attended a recent seminar on Mental Health one of the psychologists there, suggested blowing bubbles, to relieve tension for children and adults. So I felt vindicated. It was not such a farfetched idea after all. During these difficult times,with unemployment worse than the Great Depression, the pandemic killing and making our population sick, racial divide and unrest... and partisan politics, dominating our news cycles…. many of us are overwhelmed by it all. Perhaps buying a bottle of bubbles, or bubble machine, seems trite or frivolous in the midst of these crisis’s. But... rather than day drinking, or making numerous trips to the fridge, why not give it a try. See if it lifts your spirits or your children’s... for just a moment or so. Maybe you too, can find your ZEN amid all the turmoil. And let that carefree attitude, take you through the day.

Monday, July 13, 2020

OUI YOGURT AND GLASS BOTTLES

I eat OUI French style yogurt. It’s a little more pricey than most yogurts on the market. But I like the creamy taste and delicious flavors. I have grown accustomed to having one in the morning, and another at night, before I go to bed. The problem is, the yogurt comes in glass bottles and isn’t easily disposable. However, it is the perfect size to use for dessert cups. Their labels come off effortlessly, so I’ve been accumulating the cups in my cupboard for quite a while. But since I already have dessert cups, these are beginning to take up space. My husband has started to complain about them being in the way. We have no means to recycle here because they closed down the facilities that used to do it. It was costing them too much money. So I was left in a quandary. Nobody I knew, wanted the glass cups, and I couldn’t bear to just throw them out.They are substantial enough, for someone,somewhere to put them to good use. With the pandemic raging, Goodwill and all the other local thrift stores have been closed for months, and weren’t accepting donations. So that wasn’t an option until recently. Goodwill is now back in business taking the things you have to give. So I boxed up the OUI cups and packed them in shoe boxes. Then stacked ‘em up... in the back of the van, along with 4 bags of clothing that no longer fits, and deposited everything with a volunteer at their drive-thru. It made me feel good knowing... someone will discover these cute little cups on a shelf, in the weeks ahead... excited by the notion, they found a hidden treasure. And it’s all because of the pleasure I have... eating this delectable yogurt, and a company giving back to it's customers, with this special gift of glass dessert cups. It's a win-win for everybody. What brand of yogurt do you like?

Monday, July 6, 2020

CHILDHOOD REKINDLED

I miss my carefree summer days as a child. My family lived in a house, on a city sized lot, right on the outskirts of Baltimore. We had a white picket fence and all the trimmings. On one side of the street were Catholics. On the other side, Jews. All my friends were Jewish, save for a few Catholic ones who went to our church. I learned to eat bagel, lox, gefilte fish and matzoh. We played in the streets, on the porches and in the yards with careless abandon. Life was good. There was an archway of concord grapes with a gate leading into the yard on the right side of our property. And along the back edge of the fence, in the far reaches of the yard, were blackberry bushes. My mom used to bottle them and make jam. I delighted in picking the fresh fruit off the vine. The taste of those succulent fruits melted in my mouth. I lived there on that street from the time I was 4 years old, until I was in the 7^th grade. Then, my family moved out to the suburbs. And I was devastated leaving all my friends behind. Many of the Catholic families participated in this mass exodus. But most of the Jews stayed put. My very best friend Barbara was one of them. We stayed in touch for a year or two after the move, then we lost track of each other. Years later, after we had grown up and left our collective homes, my mother and hers, would occasionally bump into each other in stores, in the old neighborhood. And they would talk about us. Our lives had taken completely different paths and with nothing in common, no new addresses were exchanged for us to communicate. The last time my mother saw hers, I found out shortly later, that Barbara was living in New York City. After 9/11 I tried to find her. Not knowing whether she had married or not I searched using her maiden name. There was a picture in a paper that I thought might be her, but I had no way of knowing for sure. And when I tried to pursue it, I reached a dead end. I was frustrated and disappointed. But it was, what it was and there was nothing else I could do. Time marched on. But it didn’t stop me from wondering about Barbara and her life. Toward the end of last year, my mom got a letter in the mail. It was Barbara looking for me. My dad had passed earlier in the year and she saw the obit. She sent my mom her address and phone number and my mom forwarded them to me. I was in shock to hear from somebody from my childhood. It was so long ago. I wrote Barbara a quick synopsis of my life and mailed it. I warned her I’m pretty boring. Never venturing far from home. I’m just an armchair traveler and a bit of an entrepreneur. After getting it, she texted me. And just like that our friendship was rekindled. It’s as though we never parted. She travels the world. And I’ve been mesmerized by her stories of far off places. She doesn’t do any social media at all. But she’s lead me to old school mates that do. I’ve looked up many of them on Facebook. But so far I haven’t friended any of them. It was ions ago, and most of them probably don’t remember our escapades as youngsters. I am so glad to read about them, though. Sometimes the most unexpected things turn into blessings in disguise. I’m so happy Barbara and I found each other again. It has enriched both of our lives so much, in this time of crisis in the country. And I am so grateful.

Saturday, July 4, 2020

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AMERICA

ENJOY YOUR WEEKEND.

STAY SAFE.

WEAR A DAMN MASK

(and make sure it covers your nose)