flashback...

 This evening my son, who is fifty-four years old, texted me from Houston where he is spending four days with his company at a conference being held at NASA.  Today was their first day there. The conference presentations, which he will participate in, begin tomorrow.  But today was fun.  They got to scuba dive in one of the astronaut training pools and take a tour of the original Mission Control room.  I know the tour was a thrill for my son because he has been dreaming of being an astronaut since he was five years old and we took him to see the first Star Wars movie. 

When he was 11 years old we sent him to Space Camp in Huntsville, Alabama.  It was a week long program designed to teach students, beginning with fifth grade, all about what astronauts did and the space program.  At the end of the week his father and I and his younger sister drove to Huntsville to pick him up.  I expected him to be happy to see us.

While the students were finishing up their project we parents and other guests were taken on a tour of the facility which ended on the balcony level of a large room where we could look down and watch our kids working on computers getting ready to "launch a rocket."

When our son looked up, with all the other kids, he spotted us looking down at him, smiling and waving, because we were so happy to see him (this was the first time he had ever been away from home for a week) but his face did not reflect our joy.  His face fell like a deflating balloon and you could tell by his expression that he realized his wonderful week was over. 

But don't feel too sorry for him.  He, and his sister when she was old enough, went back to Space Camp year after year, as children and teens and eventually as paid camp counselors during their summers while they were in high school and college.  

In case you wonder if this camp experience did them any good, our daughter, who was more interested in planes than rockets, went on to serve in the Air National Guard for many years and our son has  taught STEM related subjects and worked in Science and Space museums around the country.  He now works designing summer camps and week long programs (which include developing research experiments launched by balloons into the stratosphere) for fifth graders around the US and, coming soon, as far away as Kenya.

Was it worth the cost to send them to Space Camp? Oh yes, absolutely.  

A worm's tail

Today my west coast brother suggested to me that I should blog about Cordova Ice Worms because today is "National Cordova Ice Worm Day."   Since my first search revealed that Cordova is a city in Alaska, and I have a fondness for Alaska, I decided to dig a little deeper.  First of all, it's not just a day, the Cordova Ice Worm Festival is a week long event including a parade, fireworks and an amazing array of other activities. 

Here's some of what I found:

 "The Iceworm Festival is one of Alaska’s best known winter festivals, and Cordova’s oldest community festival. Each year, we come together to put on a jam packed week of fun for all ages. We’d love to have you join us!"

This year the festival runs from January 31 to February 7, so you still have time to get there. It's always held at the end of January and into February to celebrate the increasing light each day and the anticipation of spring. I think this sounds like a lot more fun than Groundhog's Day.

Another note I found said that the ice worm in the parade is very long and looks something like a Japanese parade dragon. The tail of the dragon is removed and hidden at the beginning of the week. The person who finds the tail wins $100.

"Believe it or not, Iceworms are real ice-dwelling creatures! They existed long before our beloved festival. In fact, they were first discovered in the 1800's by Dr. G. F. Wright on Muir Glacier in Glacier Bay. They live as far south as Washington, and can be found in Southeast and South Central Alaska."

I find the above paragraph particularly interesting because my west coast brother actually lives in Washington State. Since he brought this whole ice worm event to my attention, I think he should find one (there's probably one lurking somewhere on his farm) and take a picture to send to me. Since he reads my blogs I'm telling him right now do NOT send me a worm, just the picture.

As soon as I receive a picture, I will share it.

fine dining...

 My spouse and I tutor children on Monday afternoons after school.  We go to their school and meet in the media center (aka library). Because of holiday and weather interruptions, today was our first tutoring session in three weeks.

My third grader was happy to see me and we had a good time reviewing some materials and reading together.  Among the things we reviewed was a list of his favorite things that I had typed out for him to read.  On the list was his favorite food - chili dogs.

Having worked up an appetite with all that hard tutoring, and having chili dogs on my mind, I mentioned this child's favorite to my spouse at the end of the lesson.  We both agreed that, since we would be driving through down town Fort Wayne on the way home, and since it was almost supper time, having chili dogs for supper seemed like a really excellent idea.

And so we stopped at the original Fort Wayne's Famous Coney Island, in business at the same location on Main Street for over 100 years, where their 'buns are steamed' to have our supper.  We each had two of their original chili dogs.  My wonder spouse added catsup and I added cheese and they were soooooo good.  It's surprising how filling and satisfying two hot dogs can be. This may not sound like gourmet fare to you, but trust me it's an experience not to be missed, and having dined their once, you will go back.

just for laughs

 My west coast brother has informed me that today is "Spunky Old Broads Day" and also "National Dark Chocolate Day."  Well, it goes without saying that I'm always happy to celebrate anything involving dark chocolate, but I needed to think about spunky.

At 81 I'm pretty sure that I qualify as an 'old broad' but I'm not so sure about being considered spunky, so I looked up the definition.  It turns out that spunky means courageous and determined.  It can also mean feisty, energetic and daring.  There's a whole other meaning in the UK but I won't go in to that.

I have been daring, courageous and determined in my life. Moving to a town in upstate New York for a teaching job and tending bar when I ran out of money comes to mind.  

Much more recently I think it took some courage to decide to remarry at the age of 79.  Of course that may have taken more courage on my wonder spouse's part.  I think we both were pretty spunky during our trip to Egypt last November, although I didn't ride a camel so maybe he was more spunky than I was.

All in all though, after giving it careful thought, I think that yes indeed I am a spunky old broad.  I think I'll go eat some dark chocolate to celebrate.  

Oh happy day

 Today is January 31.  My west coast brother informed me that it's "National Hot Chocolate Day" which does sound like a very fine day indeed.  But for me January 31 has an even greater significance.  It is the LAST day of January and that means there are only 48 days until SPRING!!!

Snow is lying deep on the ground around here, and the high temperature each day continues to hover around 15 (that's 15 above, thank goodness).  Snow is beautiful when the sun shines on it, but honestly I am getting tired of snow.  

So I am focusing on March 20th and envisioning green grass, little yellow flowers, clear pavements and no snow anywhere.  That's my vision, what's yours?

How well can you yodel??

 My west coast brother told me, earlier today, that this is "Yodel for Your Neighbors Day."  Just seeing the word yodel brought back an avalanche of memories.  But before I get into that, let me assure you that I have not, nor do I plan to yodel for my neighbors.  There are three very good reasons for this constraint on my part:

1. It's bitter cold outside, not at all a good day for yodeling.

2. Many of my neighbors don't know me very well and this would not be a great first impression.  Even though, if I stood in the middle of the cul-de-sac, I could entertain several neighbors at once.

3. And, probably most importantly, I can't yodel.

That brings me back to the memories.  When I was young our heroes were cowboys.  Many of the shows we heard on the radio and later watched on television starred singing cowboy, and sometimes cowgirls.  Gene Autry, Roy Rogers and Dale Evans were our favorites.  I liked their singing (who can forget "Happy Trails to You"?) but I was especially impressed with their yodeling.  They could all yodel beautifully.  At about that same age, 10 maybe, I read the novel "Heidi" about a young girl raised by her grandfather in the Swiss Alps.  Yodeling seemed to bounce from every page of that book, even if I was only hearing it in my imagination.  'Yodel ay hee hoo' is how they spelled it out. and when they yodeled people far away could hear them.

I have tried and tried to learn to yodel but alas to no avail.  Lucky for me, I have never been lost in a snowstorm in the Alps (or anywhere else for that matter) with a need to make enough noise to be rescued.  

good fortune...

 I had Chinese food for supper tonight and with it came the inevitable Fortune Cookie.  My fortune said "Your perseverance will be a key to achieving your goals."  Well that sounds very nice and positive, as they always do.  I mean, fortune cookies are nice, mildly flavored cookies that go well after a large dinner, especially with hot tea, but I don't think people would be so eager to eat them if the fortunes were less positive.  For instance, if the fortune above was rewritten like this "If you give up now you'll never amount to anything." I don't think it would be as well received by the cookie eater.  

But pondering fortune cookies got me wondering who came up with the idea of little folded cookies containing bits of wisdom.  Naturally I turned to Google and here's what I found out. Wikipedia says they most likely originated as cookies made by Japanese immigrants to the United States in the late 19th or early 20th centuries.  The Japanese version did not have the lucky numbers or fortunes and were eaten with tea.

There is a hot dispute between bakers in Los Angeles and San Francisco, each city claiming to be the site of the origin of these tasty little cookies.  Whatever the truth, which we may never know, I wish you good fortune in life and on paper.