Memorial Day

Earlier today I posted an entry on Decoration Day. It turned out longer than I thought so I ended that one and now can post another about my experiences visiting The VA Hospital and retirement homes by myself and with other with members of the VFW (Veterans of Foreign Wars).

During yesterday's visit to a retirement home on lower Queen Anne here in Seattle our group from the Ballard Eagleson VFW Post 3063 visited with some veterans of WWII, Korea and Vietnam. There were retired Navy, Army, Marine Corps and Air Force people who attended the flag raising ceremony we conducted in the courtyard of their home. There were also lots of women at the ceremony. That seems to be a constant when I visit retirement homes. Always lots more women than men. In the VA Hospital, on the other hand, there are men almost exclusively.

VFW members Kettle and Rodenberger raising the flag

Visits to these places always remind me that there are many of the residents who don't seem to have visitors. Some want to talk and get started even before introductions have taken place. It seems a shame they are so starved for attention.

Our western culture doesn't much value the wisdom of our elders. Quite often we see older people laughed at and derided as old and out of touch. What many younger people don't realize is that those elders have a lifetime of experience to share if only we would give them the opportunity. When we visit the retirement centers and VA Hospital we try to give the residents that opportunity to share or at least converse.

In our modern apartment complexes and homogeneous neighborhoods we don't see the cycle of life playing out. Sometimes we see babies and children but not often are the older people in evidence. But it is a fact that we all grow old and die. Visiting the retirement homes gives us a chance to see the end of life scenario that we all face sooner or later.

While you can why not take time to visit your local retirement center and take along your children or grandchildren. They would benefit from visiting with old folks and seeing the end of life picture that we all face.

Great nieces and nephew decorating grave sites yesterday

Decoration Day

Memorial Day, or Decoration Day as it was known from its creation in 1868 until after WWII, was observed yesterday.

General John Logan who was the National Commander of the Grand Army of the Republic, issued General Orders No. 11, May 5, 1868, which said, in part: "The 30th day of May, 1868, is designated for the purpose of strewing with flowers or otherwise decorating the graves of comrades who died in defense of their country. . ."

The May 30th day for Decoration Day was adopted by many states beginning with New York in 1873, and by all the northern states by 1890. The southern states refused to adopt it and maintained their own dates until after WWI when the date became a day to commemorate fallen soldiers from all our wars.

As the day became more and more a day to remember all our nation's war dead, the name Memorial Day, which was first used during the 1860's but didn't become common until after WWII, began to be used to designate the day. Finally, in 1967, the Federal Government officially designated the day as Memorial Day.

The May 30th observance was changed to the last Monday in May effective January, 1971, having been signed into law in 1968 (Uniform Monday Holiday Act, P.L. 90-363).

With the change to a three-day weekend many people believe its true significance as a day to remember our war dead has become lost in the festivities of the long weekend which is now known more as the beginning of summer.

There is a movement to return to tradition both in date and intent. The Veterans of Foreign Wars (VFW), along with some other groups, has been active encouraging a return of the observation to the traditional day of May 30th. The VFW proclaims: "Changing the date merely to create three-day weekends has undermined the very meaning of the day. No doubt, this has contributed greatly to the general public's nonchalant observance of Memorial Day."

To help encourage a respect for the original meaning of the day, President Clinton, on May 3, 2000, signed a Memorandum establishing a National Moment of Remembrance, ". . .to promote a "Natitional Moment of Remembrance" to occur. . .on each Memorial Day." This act was to encourage ". . .Americans everywhere, to pause for one minute at 3:00 p.m. (local time), to remember and reflect on the sacrifices made by so many to provide freedom for all."

Finally I'd like to draw your attention to a poem by Charles M. Province:

It Is The Soldier

It is the Soldier, not the minister
Who has given us freedom of religion.

It is the Soldier, not the reporter
Who has given us freedom of the press.

It is the Soldier, not the poet
Who has given us freedom of speech.

It is the Soldier, not the campus organizer
Who has given us freedom to protest.

It is the Soldier, not the lawyer
Who has given us the right to a fair trial.

It is the Soldier, not the politician
Who has given us the right to vote.

It is the Soldier who salutes the flag,
Who serves beneath the flag,
And whose coffin is draped by the flag,
Who allows the protester to burn the flag.

Charles Michael Province, U.S. Army Copyright Charles M. Province, 1970, 2005

Nocturnal Garden

As I get older I find that I wake at times during the night and let my mind wander. Or maybe it wanders of its own volition?

In any case I liken the experience to being in a garden where my past experiences, thoughts and dreams are growing in various states of vigor.

My garden is quite large as it holds flowers, fruits and bushes from over the years. In one corner I might find pleasant childhood memories waiting to be re-lived, in another there are images of Army experiences and in yet another might be memories of a more recent vintage. Here and there mixed all through the garden are weeds.

My consciousness sometimes seems to take the form of a butterfly, flitting from flower to flower. Spending more time on a particularly beautiful memory and perhaps a little less on a good, but less appealing flower.

My butterfly self seems to be adept at finding and feeding on the good and beautiful memories from across the spectrum of years. One minute I'll be smelling and feeling backyard dirt as I build highways and bridges and operate my truck as a five-year-old boy playing make believe with pieces of wood and pinecones. In another instant I am rowing a boat on Cascade Lake trolling for rainbow trout or as a man fishing for salmon on Ray's boat out of Kitimat, BC, and in yet another I am an older man hauling in Dungeness Crab out of Birch Bay.

Sometimes, through no apparent control of my own, my butterfly transforms into a bee, or a swarm of bees, buzzing from memory to memory, noisily bringing up things I'd rather forget. The bees know where to find the weeds in my garden. Sometimes their noise becomes so loud I think my wife and even others in the neighborhood can hear.

Earplugs do no good but sometimes I move downstairs to my recliner where my little dog can hear and empathize. He jumps up and sleeps lying across my thighs where his presence drives off the bees. Sometimes it takes him awhile but eventually he chases them away and what a relief it is.

I take care with my garden, cultivating, watering and fertilizing the good flowers and fruits and starving the weeds. I encourage the butterfly to find the best flowers and refresh itself.

The bees I try to keep locked in their hive in a dark corner. Most of the time that strategy works but sometimes they come swarming out to make their noise. Come on little dog! Help me get these bees back in their hive.

Another interesting inhabitant of my garden is the humming bird. It's a beautiful iridescent little thing that seems to have the ability to discriminate between good and bad without having actually to experience the thing itself. He hovers over an attractive flower or weed or even evil fruit, debates whether to feed or not and seems to make rational choices before moving on seeking something better, or different.

I like the hummingbird because he works with me on keeping things under control in the garden. His gaze seems approving when he hovers over a nice flower. The flower becomes even more beautiful under his approving look. When he flies up close to a weed it wilts and sometimes shrivels and dies under his disapproving stare.

I like to work hand in wing with my hummingbird to make my nighttime garden excursions pleasant and relaxing.

If only I could find a way to keep those bees in their hive. . .

Fish For Dinner

Last night we had a Japanese style dinner. Ik'o made the usual assortment of vegetable dishes including blanched broccoli spears with a miso vinegar sauce, fuki from our backyard and after proper preparation (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Petasites_japonicus) with a vinegar-soy sauce-chili pepper marinade, kabocha squash deep fried then simmered in sauce, rice, soup, etc.

I like all the vegetables but the main attraction for me was the fish. I cut up sashimi from a piece of the tuna loin as an appetizer, there was halibut shioyaki, smelt shioyaki and, one of my favorites, smelt karaage

The fish all came courtesy my brother, Keith, the Shacho (president) of Claus Meats, the premium meat supply house I've mentioned previously.

The piece of tuna for the sashimi was from a loin we had for the New Year celebration. In years past I've cut the fish into blocks the right size for sashimi, vac-packed and froze them then thawed and cut into sashimi as needed. This year I cut the loin into pieces the right size for sashimi blocks, vac-packed and froze them whole. As needed I can partially thaw the whole piece, cut into sashimi blocks and then into sashimi. I refreeze the other still partially frozen sashimi blocks to be used soon. This process seems to work much better as you can see by the appealing color and texture of the sashimi.

Tuna sashimi

The halibut shioyaki (literally, salt grilled) was from a small halibut we got a few weeks ago. We had the rest of that particular fillet a few days ago prepared Italian style, but that's another story. This time Ik'o lightly salted and refrigerated it until ready to grill. You notice the pan which is a typical grilling pan from Japan. It sits on top of a gas burner (electric works also) which distributes heat evenly to the grilling surface.

Halibut on the grill pan

The smelt shioyaki was cooked the same but was freshly salted. In Japan small fish like smelt will sometimes be rolled in coarse salt then grilled but I like to eat the skin so prefer to lightly salt just before grilling.

The smelt karaage (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Karaage) is another different way to prepare those small fish. When we make chicken karaage we marinate the pieces and then flour and deep fry. The smelt might profit from that same preparation but it is time consuming so often we will use a premixed powder. The ingredients are flour, arrowroot starch, paprika, salt and MSG, among a few others. Ik'o rolled the smelt in the mix and I deep fried until crispy.

A short side note on the MSG in the deep frying powder. When I first went to Japan more than fifty years ago I was introduced to Aji-no-Moto (literally, flavor more) which is MSG in a granulated form. It used to come in a small tin with a tiny spoon. This condiment was used as a flavor enhancer sprinkled sparingly on pickles, soups and other dishes needing a flavor boost.

A few years ago MSG made the headlines in the West as something harmful and to be avoided. I continued to use it because, for me, the negative consequences of substituting other things to replace the flavor enhancing effect of MSG were unacceptable.

As with many things moderation is the key. A little MSG added to food brings out the taste. The old way of achieving similar results was to add more salt. Well I'd rather use a small amount of MSG (incidentally, it is a natural compound originally extracted from seaweed) than to increase the salt or go to the trouble of brewing a kombu (kelp) or mushroom extraction to get that elusive flavor boost.

I just looked up MSG as a flavor enhancer. More thanks to Wikipedia for interesting background information. Wikipedia isn't always accurate but it often sheds light on many topics.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monosodium_glutamate

Back to my dinner. There is a side benefit of smelt karaage. Because the smelt are deep fried until crispy you don't have to worry about taking out the bones. I boost my calcium intake by eating them bones and all.

Smelt karaage sizzling and ready to eat

Yummy fish for dinner.

Narita, Japan

A couple weeks ago I made a quick trip to Japan. Leaving SEATAC on Sunday, 4/19, a little after two in the afternoon I arrived at Narita Airport on Monday (because of the International Date Line) afternoon about 1645. I left Narita at 1715 on Tuesday and arrived back in Seattle at 0930 Tuesday morning, again because of the IDL.

I was carrying only a backpack so went through customs and immigration quickly and went out to the waiting area for local buses thinking I would catch the bus for the hotel where I wanted to stay. When I got the the bus stop I found that I'd missed the bus by four minutes. Now you might think it strange that I would say I missed the bus by four minutes but in Japan the buses and trains operate on a pretty rigid schedule. The bus was not there, the posted schedule said it would leave at 1720, I was there at 1724 so I had missed it by four minutes.

Before leaving home I had researched hotels in the airport area and decided on the U-City Hotel in Narita City. It was what is called a "businessman's hotel" which caters to businessmen who might have to spend the night in the city instead of going home. Often this happens when the boss spends a little too much time drinking, eating and discussing business at some local establishment. The salaryman can't leave for home until the boss does so off to the hotel he goes instead of home. . .

In any case I found the rates to be satisfactory (around $52) and it wasn't far from the train station so I decided it would be a good place to spend the night before heading back to Seattle the next day. I asked Ikuko if she thought I should make a reservation but she said it shouldn't be a problem getting a room.

Since the scheduled bus had gone and there wasn't another due for a little over two hours I decided to go back inside the airport baggage area, down one floor and catch the train. There are two lines serving Narita Airport, the JNR (Japan National Railway) Line and the Keisei Line. Either would have worked to get me to Narita City but the Keisei line was scheduled to leave at 1727, fifteen minutes earlier than the JNR so that's the way I went.

It's been awhile since I've traveled by train there but I've found that Japan is quite accommodating to visitors. I went to the information desk and asked (in English) where to buy a ticket and which track. The girl staffing the desk was quite helpful and sent me off in the right direction.

Bought my ticket and went through the automatic turnstile where regular riders hold their pass against the reader but occasional riders like me insert their ticket into a slot, pick it up at the other end of the console and proceed to the right track.

While I was waiting for the train I looked around the track area and found NO graffiti; brightly lit, clean waiting areas; well behaved passengers reading their email, books or even the paper and the station master walking up and down the platform checking his watch.

Narita Airport Station is the end of that line so the train pulled in about ten minutes early and discharged inbound passengers. Outbound passengers got on and waited quietly until 1727, on the dot, when the station master blew his whistle and the train pulled out. The second stop down the line was mine so I got off and walked to the hotel through a misty rain.

At the "furanto" front desk, I asked (again, in English) if I could get a room for the night. Asked if I had a reservation, I had to say no. Well, it turned out they were full so I asked if they could recommend another hotel nearby, in the same price range and within walking distance.

The friendly clerk asked me to wait a minute and disappeared into the back room. When she came back she said her boss said it was OK and she would give me a room. By this time it was after six and the room they gave me was actually a three person room. I guess the boss decided they wouldn't get a party of three that night and besides the foreigner had thrown himself on their mercy so I got the room. It would have been pretty crowded if there were three people staying since the room was only about 11 by 16 feet.

A businessman's hotel is pretty basic but even there they honor the Japanese custom of furnishing amenities. There was a sleeping kimono with obi (belt) and disposable slippers on each bed.

Three-man room

On the counter next to the TV was a hot pot with tea, instant coffee, sugar, creamer and stirrers.

Hot pot with green and black tea, coffee, sugar and creamer

In the bathroom was the usual selection of soaps and towels but with the uniquely Japanese selection of disposable toothbrush and toothpaste, razor and shaving cream, hairbrush and comb, shower head cover, q-tips and gauze pads. At the front desk there were complimentary makeup remover and facial products for the ladies. Of course, the toilet seat was heated and there were buttons for back wash, front wash, air dry and I'm not sure what else.

Standard amenities in the bathroom

On the counter next to the TV there was a spray bottle filled with disinfectant sitting on a small sign which said: "The water is fit to drink. No smoking in the room. Use the spray bottle to kill germs and help combat the spread of influenza.

Room cautions and guidance

TV and fridge

Under the kimono and slippers on the bed was a notice that the bathroom ventilator would be cleaned.

Another gave notice that the water would be off for an hour around midnight. 

In Japanese the word for water is "mizu" and it means cold or room temperature water. Hot water is "ou" so when the words are translated literally, as is often the case, the language seems a little stilted.

I found it interesting and comforting that the hotel management would go to the trouble of translating (literal translation though it might be) and then make a trip to a foreigner's assigned room to place the signs instead of just giving notice at the front desk as an American hotel might do. I have never seen such individual signs in an American hotel, even in English, let alone any foreign language. They just post a notice in the elevator and let it go at that.

In fairness I must say I admire the person in charge at SEATAC airport here in Seattle where verbal announcements on the two underground shuttle trains are broadcast in English, Japanese, Chinese and a couple other languages depending on incoming international flights.

I have said more than once that travel is a broadening experience. Travel in Japan is especially nice for a foreigner since the local people really go out of their way to help. I'll have to go back again soon.

First BBQ of the Year

Tonight the weather is more typical, misty rain and cool temperatures; however, last night was the end of a perfect, if atypical, day here in Seattle so I had my first BBQ of the year.

Generating coals

Beer to nurse while making coals

I say first BBQ because I fired up my favorite grilling device, a fifty- gallon drum cut in half and filled with sand. It makes a nice backyard fire and the leftover coals do a great job of barbecuing anything needing a good hot fire.  When the coals die down it's good for chicken or other things which like a slower fire.

I have a gas barbeque which is handy and quick and I have a Weber kettle which is pretty versatile. Both of those cook things but my favorite is the drum which not only cooks things but also gives me a nice fire, a comfortable feeling and generates some nostalgia from memories of fires in years past. Years ago I had Garth down at Ballard Sheet Metal make me a stainless grill for the drum. The grill has taken the heat for many years and some of the welds have parted but it is still serviceable and holds many good memories.

Sunday I helped Iko prepare dinner. My job was to cook rabbit loin. I broke down the rabbit carcasses that I had gotten earlier from brother Keith, the Shacho, who runs the best meat supply house west of the Mississippi and east of Honolulu. I used most of the carcass for stock but saved the hind quarters for another use, as the cookbooks say.

Most of the Sunday meal was good but I didn't do a very good on the loins. Well, I did a good job but we held them too long so the end product was not so good, but that's another story.

Nosy azaleas overseeing the coal making  

Back to my barbeque last night. The saved hind quarter meat I cut up into small pieces, threaded on skewers, dusted with Penzey's Greek dressing mix and let marinate for an hour.

When the time came I opened a can of Top Cutter IPA by Bale Breaker Brewing over Yakima way, spread the coals and burned off the grill. The Top Cutter is pretty good beer, by the way. It is hoppy, not too alcoholic (6.8%) and nicely bitter with an IBU of 70. I turned the skewers, sipped the beer and watched the waxing gibbous moon through the trees to the south of our backyard.

Iko made some wonderful potato balls for the Sunday dinner so the two leftovers I sliced up and sauteed in browned butter. Their crispy blandness complimented the slightly spicy meat. That plate, a small green salad and a glass of cabernet blanc made a good Monday dinner.

Pretty yummy entree

After dinner my little dog, Kuro, said it was time for his walk so off we went into the balmy evening.

Along the way we saw a panorama of downtown Seattle, Elliot Bay and our proprietary mountain, Rainier, standing regally above it all.

Seattle panorama from the Space Needle to Mt Rainier

On the way back we came across an ancient lilac in full bloom perfuming the evening air and giving us a glimpse of the moon overseeing the evening.

Lilac moon

 A lovely day like that makes us appreciate them so much more because they are rare this time of year. It was a perfect end to my first barbeque of the year.

Security

I enjoy posting reports of my travels more or less as they occur. I think people read a blog expecting it will be timely. But we live in a world tied closely by electronic communication. Well, I guess that also explains why we can have such things as blogs. I hate to say it again but, "when I was young" things were a little different. Diaries, travelogues or letters (remember those old fashioned missives?) were the accepted way to keep track of and report on travels and other life experiences.

Well, in addition, people conversed more in those days. Dinner time, back fence, front porch or barbershop conversations were even more personal ways to pass along experiences and opinions. It seems those ways of exchanging information have faded in favor of instantaneous electronic communication. I'm not sure that's an improvement but progress(?) is hard to stop.

But back to timeliness, immediate communications and security. As a couple of my friends have pointed out, when I post to my blog that my wife and I are traveling in Mexico, or Canada or Eastern Westonia, it's a pretty good indication to the nefarious reader that our house is empty and might be easy pickings for the casual thief.

We live in a fairly dense neighborhood, we have a block watch group of neighbors, access to our backyard is difficult and we have an alarm system. Does that mean I can post our absences on the internet with impunity? I don't know. I see people posting their comings and goings on Facebook apparently without much regard for the lurker with evil intent.

I have considered posting only after we return home and sometimes I do just that by default since it's more difficult to post in real time when internet connections are spotty or expensive. But to complicate the issue my blog host now offers an app for portable devices which allows shorter posts with smaller pictures while on the road to Mandalay, or wherever in the world the user might be.

What to do? What to do? Maybe the precautions I've taken are enough. Maybe I should make the blog private requiring a user name and password? Maybe I should hire a house sitter each time we travel?

If it were you what would you do? Is a password and user name too complicated? I'm open to suggestions so please give me your ideas in the comment section, below. Click on the red "no comments" or "# comments" and you can contribute your thoughts.

Being Called from Afar

Last week Iko and I were in North Carolina, in January we were cruising (see 50th anniversary cruise, below), last weekend I was in Japan, later this year I'll be going to VFW conventions In Yakima, WA, and Pittsburgh, PA, in between son Glenn and I will spend three weeks in Vietnam and Laos and then in the fall Iko and I will travel to Japan again for sightseeing and to attend the fifty-year memorial for her parents. Sometime a little later this year I'll make at least one more trip to North Carolina and in November we're scheduled to spend a week in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico.

I sometimes wonder what it is about travel that appeals to me so much. When I was in the Army, at first I thought it was a natural tendency that anyone in strange surroundings, or better yet, in a foreign country, would want to get out and observe their surroundings and take in the differences in customs and cultures. But, no, I soon found out there were lots of guys who would just as soon stick close to the base, go to work, go to the mess hall, go to the club and go to bed. There were even some who complained bitterly about being forced to be away from home in this "hellhole."

The first time I observed this attitude the "hellhole" in question was Southern Japan! In fairness I guess I should say this was in the early sixties before Japanese cuisine and culture was much appreciated by the majority of Americans, but what a wasted opportunity, to be living next door to an ancient culture and not even give it a second glance.

Over the years of Army travel I learned that this was not an aberration and perhaps not even the most egregious example. I have seen people living in close proximity to amazing tourist attractions who decline to go have a look for what seem to me to be absurd reasons.

I don't claim to have access to universal truth. All I can say is what works for me. I enjoy staying home watching the almost daily change in the seasons, the different points on the horizon where the sun appears and disappears each day, the pleasure of making or eating a new recipe and the heightened awareness of surroundings and people as I sometimes take the bus through downtown Seattle.

But all this pales (for me) in comparison to the sense of anticipation I feel when I plan a new adventure or set off to the airport or step outside the hotel in a new place. What new experience lies in store tomorrow? What new contrast will I see to the standard routines of home? What novel approach to life lies hidden round the next corner?

Not to say there aren't interesting and sometimes different things to do around home and the comforts of home are hard to deny, but the call of the wild (or even the tame) in a different part of the world is hard for me to resist.

Flicker Update Two

For the first time I've had trouble with one of my blog posts. This post about our backyard flickers was originally posted Tuesday evening after I returned from Japan but some readers complained that they never received an email notifying them of the new post. I checked my own email accounts and found the same.

If you go to the blog website you may have seen it and in case you don't know, when you are notified by email of a new post you can click on the title of the post and it will take you to the blog itself where you can see all the entries.

To cure (hopefully) the problem I just deleted the original post and am posting it again. Thanks.

~~~~~~

Well, I guess our flicker family has decided against moving into the newly remodeled house in our backyard. I've been watching from the kitchen window as they come for the suet in the feeder and they don't even glance over toward the house they worked so hard on.

While she was working on the entrance the female would occasionally poke her head in and when she had enlarged the hole enough I saw her actually climb in a few times. But then she didn't come back. I guess something about the interior didn't satisfy her instinctive requirements for a home.

On the other hand, I thought it had great potential as a flicker house. There was the nice morning sun exposure, a moss covered roof to keep out the rain, a good view of the wisteria vine climbing above the feeder and house, close proximity to the suet feeder and several tall trees nearby where the adults like to perch near the top and survey the countryside.

Flicker's eye view of wisteria above the birdhouse and feeder

If I were like big government I could issue a "fair housing standards act" and tell her to move in or I'd stop feeding suet, but I doubt that would work in her case.

It does seem to work for the government though. In cases from schools to roads they say, "Do it our way or we'll take away lots of money." In other cases from new cars to new appliances and light bulbs they say, "Do it our way and we'll give you lots of money." Strange thing is, it's our money they took away to begin with.

Maybe we should get the government out of the meddling business and follow our instincts more?

Lightweight Newspaper

This morning when I picked up my morning newspaper from the front porch I thought, "The paper has gotten really light lately."

 I put it on the kitchen scale and it weighed in at 4.1 ounces, including the plastic bag in which it is delivered. That same bag advertised jobs earning from $800-1000 per month as a new carrier. I don't know how much a carrier gets paid for each subscription he delivers but he must have to deliver lots of papers to make $1000 per month.

After I read the news of the day I counted the pages. There were 14 pages, which, when printed on both sides, totaled 28 pages of print including 5 pages of advertising. Not so long ago it seems there were upward of 50 pages. Of course, there were many more pages of advertising but even with that there was more news.

I guess lots of people nowadays get their news from the TV and radio shows.For the computer users (and who isn't now?) there is the ever-present home page with its news teasers aimed right at the reader. 

I find it amazing that if you like to read about riots, for instance, there will be lots of headlines about riots next time you visit your home page. If you prefer stories about beauty contests you will see scantily clad girls and news of beauty contests from around the world. Myself, I like to scan recipes for possible future candidates when it's my turn to cook. Of course, soon I see lots of leaders for recipe sites.

I like to defeat the little (wo)man in my computer who is my personal news selector by skipping my home page completely and going straight to email or other favorites. I know, I know, the little man doesn't get any extra revenue from me but I figure he makes enough off the others who nibble at his bait.

On a more serious note, I do wonder how people gain exposure to the other side of the news when all they see or hear is what they like or have selected in the past.

My morning paper, lightweight as it is, still prints only one local edition. They don't put out one edition for conservatives (not many in Seattle), one for liberals, one for tree huggers and one for heavy users of natural resources. 

I can skip the stories written by journalists from the other end of the political spectrum but they are there just in case they catch my eye and I might see some interesting editorials that I don't particularly agree with but at least I see them. There's something to be said for wide ranging news and opinion exposure. It's sort of like the days of the draft when I first entered the Army, you never knew who you might meet sitting next to you in the mess hall. Interesting people from many walks of life populated the Army in those days.

Another point to make in favor of the newspaper is the people and money they can send after stories that wouldn't necessarily make the evening news or find their way to your home page. 

So, what can I do to prolong the life of my local skinny newspaper? First, I can continue my own subscription. Second, for those of you who can, please subscribe, or re-subscribe. 

Help save news diversity in our time.

Our Northern Flickers

In our backyard I have several bird feeders hanging from an arbor where a wisteria grows. One feeder contains assorted bird seed, two have sunflower seeds and one has suet. The suet attracts Northern Flickers, a variety of woodpecker, but they are very cautious birds. One will land on the arbor and another might land on a nearby fence. Both will look this way and that for several minutes until they are convinced there are no predators nearby then the one on the arbor will hop down onto the suet feeder while the other keeps a sharp eye out. Even while feeding they will pause frequently to check the surroundings.

Several years ago my brother Harry gave me a birdhouse made from some old growth cedar he had salvaged from the woods near their house. It was a beauty with three holes leading into the nests, a small nail for the birds to perch on while entering and each hole had a horseshoe around it. I hung it from the edge of the shop roof on the far side of the arbor.

A nice multi-level birdhouse

I'm not sure if I have it in a bad spot or it it just wasn't attractive to the kind of birds we have but we never had birds nest there. Over the years the little nails rusted off but the horseshoes acquired a nice rusty patina and some moss grew on the little roof. It looked pretty attractive to me so I don't know why birds never moved in.

A couple weeks ago I saw a pair of flickers checking out the nesting box. The male would fly in, hang on the front of the box and peck at the holes a little, then fly off. Next time I looked the female would be there pecking at the holes. They both were a little tentative but over a few days they made a little progress on all three of the holes.

Finally I saw that the female had chosen the bottom hole and was busy enlarging the entrance. She worked pretty steady and in a few more days had enlarged the hole and climbed in several times.

Hole enlarged to woodpecker size

As I mentioned Flickers are very cautious so I haven't been able to get a picture of one actually at work. I can follow their activities from the kitchen window, about thirty feet away, but as soon as their is any kind of strange movement in the backyard they are gone.

So now the question is, will they actually nest in their chosen spot. I'm surprised that they have gotten this far but even in the city there are birds and animals that make themselves right at home. But will they actually nest?

Tune in next week and I'll try to post a picture of the female's head poking out of the newly enlarged hole.

Blood Moon

One of my sisters sent me an email yesterday about the rare "Easter weekend blood moon" forecast for this morning.

Kuro checking out the nighttime park

Last night as my little dog, Kuro, and I were walking we saw the full moon rising over Queen Anne Hill here in Seattle. It was gorgeous moon at that point because as it rose through the lower atmosphere it appeared larger and had a brighter tint than normal. The "blood" moon is so called because later last night when the shadow of the earth passed over the moon the color was supposed to go from full yellow-orange to more of a blood red.

Full moon rising over Queen Anne

Along our walking course is the old playfield just below the Magnolia Elementary School. The building hasn't been used as a school for many years and a few years back the city converted the playground from an asphalt-covered playground to a pretty nice park with a walking path around it, swings, teeter totters and such for the children and a grand city overlook for the adults.

Seattle/Elliott Bay overlook at dusk

We enjoyed our walk and because of the sightseeing and lollygagging we finished our walk in the dark. Of course, that doesn't matter to Kuro. As long as I'm willing to walk, night or day, wet or dry, he's happy and his stubby little tail is on high alert or wagging energetically depending on his mood.

I try to take my cue from him and enjoy our walk for its own sake and put aside day (or night) time worries. It's a time to relax and get into the spirit of appreciation that lets things happen at their own pace and significance.

When I went to bed I wasn't thinking of the blood moon but my subconscious must have been wanting to catch a glimpse since I became restless about 0200.

Well, I got up at 0213 and it was a bright white full moon I saw but then an hour later it was mostly hidden by clouds. Sometimes I could see a faint outline but mostly clouds.

At 0300 I started watching the live show on Slooh so I wouldn't miss the eclipse but it wasn't quite the same as watching live from my back porch. Finally the clouds thickened and completely covered my view of the real live moon so I watched the live feed from California via Slooh. Incidentally, slooh.com is the site for all things astrological. If you are interested in the stars, moon or other parts of our universe, you might pay them a visit.

At 0320 the clouds were still blocking my view. The Live Show on Slooh showed the lower left quadrant in full shadow.

0330 - Eclipse still covered by clouds here in Seattle. Local overnight forecast from NOAA was 40% chance of rain with mostly cloudy skies. I gave up on viewing in real time and decided to go back to bed. I'll watch the reruns.

Sometimes things just don't work out the way you planned. To paraphrase the great Robert Burns, The best laid plans of mice and men and the subconscious often go awry. It makes me appreciate even more the times when plans work out for the good.

The Smell of Spring

This morning I opened our south-facing back door to check out the landscape and give my begging squirrels some peanuts when I was struck by the smell of spring. 

This time of year it is getting light before I get up. Even though official sunrise this morning was 0624, because of our northern latitude we have a longer period of twilight at both ends of the day. It was cloudy this morning so it was difficult to tell when first light began but it was at least an hour before sunrise. In another couple months at summer solstice we'll have daylight or twilight for at least eighteen hours of the day.

When I was fishing for salmon on a commercial purse seiner in southeastern Alaska a lot of years ago I remember the June days being filled with light. Even though the sun would go below the southern horizon for a couple hours we had daylight during that period and it wasn't long before the sun would rise again to make its circle around the sky. Of course a little farther north, in the land of the midnight sun, the sun doesn't even set but circles from low on the horizon around, over and back down close to the horizon as the day passes.

But back to the smell of spring. When the cool air hit my nose this morning it smelled of pollen, a little salt from nearby Elliot Bay and the beginning of the earth smell caused by the warming soil. All this was enhanced by the high humidity of the early morning dew. It is a smell that resurrects memories of similar mornings experienced at this same time of year over many years of  smelling spring air.

When we lived in other parts of the world the smell of spring was different and sometimes not even distinguishable from other smells at other times of year. 

In Panama at this time of year it was the end of the dry season with its smoke from the burning grasslands and the return to the higher humidity and frequent rains of the rainy season. Even though we lived close to the salt water I never smelled the salt in the air like I do here in Seattle. Maybe because the smells of the nearby jungle overpowered other smells.

Northern Japan, on the Island of Hokkaido, had weather similar to home but, even though further south, the weather was influenced by the Siberian air flow and we had snow and cold temperatures most of the winter. When spring came it was fast with lots of pollen and quick warming trends. We had the smell of pollen and dew but the smell of the ocean was missing.

Spring was more fragrant in southern Japan where the strawberries would just be coming on. We lived in a rural area where the farm smells were strong but they were tempered by the smells of the sea with drying fish and seaweed and tidelands.

In those days the warmer air often carried the smell of burning plastic and other garbage. Thankfully, the Japanese learned to dispose of those materials in other ways (now their recycling rate is near the top) so the smells of spring there are more distinctive.

In Saigon the smell of the city overpowered any natural smell of spring. Mostly I smelled dust and rain and the human smells of a crowded city. It seems the tropics have a distinctive smell but that smell doesn't evoke memories like the combination of salt and pollen and dew and warming earth like the backyard smell in Seattle.

I'm sure the smell of home is best for people of any part of the world, but for me, maybe it's because I'm getting older but I like the natural smells of spring and the memories they bring back to life here in Seattle.

Dave Z

I first met Dave in 1968 while I was stationed in Yokohama, Japan. We were both stationed at North Pier where water-borne cargo came and went for the US Army, and other users, in Japan. My family's household goods, shipped from South Carolina, came to Japan through that port and six years later when I was transferred to Seattle, our household goods left Japan through that port.

Dave held a transportation MOS (Military Occupation Specialty) and my MOS was in the administrative field. We worked in the same Directorate and shared a common boss, a Transportation Lieutenant Colonel who was on a twilight tour, as they sometimes called the last tour of duty before retirement.

Dave and I hit it off as friends and spent a great deal of time together. We enjoyed several fishing trips and one memorable trip had us traveling around the Chiba Peninsula staying at B&B's and fishing at noted fishing places.

At that time the University of Maryland offered classes in the evenings and Dave and I attended some together. We enjoyed the intellectual discussions and I think we learned as much from each other as we did from the professors.

Time has a way of moving along and Dave and I experienced the changes brought by the passage of time. I applied for and was accepted to the Army degree completion program and attended Sophia University in Tokyo full time for a couple years and Dave and his family moved on also. But even though separated physically, we kept in contact with the occasional letter (in those days before email) and Christmas card.

When I was traveling through California I stopped at their house when they lived in Concord and later my wife and I visited them after they moved to Lake Tahoe. Ten or twelve years ago Dave and Fumiko visited us in Seattle and we vowed to get together more often. But distance and time conspired against us and we shared only the occasional short visit.

Fumiko and Dave during a visit to Tahoe in July 2012

Just because we didn't get to see each other physically didn't mean we couldn't continue our friendship via mail and then email and, of course, the occasional phone call. The last time I talked with Dave, about a month ago, he was telling me all the details of the new dialysis procedure that he was undergoing and he sounded as sharp as ever.

Last night I got a call from an New York area code. Almost didn't answer since I figured it was a sales call. It turned out to be one of Dave's sons giving me the sad news that his father had passed away the night before.

Dave and I were friends for many years and, of course, I was saddened by the news of his passing. That sadness was tempered by the happy times we had shared. We didn't always view the world from the same perspective but I accepted and appreciated his viewpoints and he reciprocated when it came to mine.

I wish Dave's family well. May his sons and their families carry on his tradition of open-minded investigation of the world. I'll always appreciate the fact that Dave never discriminated against me just because I was white. I think he understood, as we all should, the world can be a better place when there is mutual acceptance, or at least tolerance, of other people.

Cinnamon Twists

A few weeks ago my sister Retha sent me an email from Aunt Mary (Lehman) who had put down in black and white Grandma Rodenberger's recipe for Cinnamon twists.

I call her Grandma Rodenberger. Her maiden name was Elizabeth Bryan Umbrell (born 3/14/97 (1897, that is) in Delta, Colorado) and she was married to my grandfather, Glen, (born January 1, 1888, in Rome Township near Bellingham, WA) on January 27, 1913.

Her recipe for Cinnamon Twists sounds good even if, in the way of many old recipes, it leaves a lot to the skill and common sense of the cook. For instance, it calls for spreading part of the dough with soft butter, coating half with brown sugar and cinnamon and to frost when cool. No mention is made in the recipe for amounts of soft butter, cinnamon, brown sugar or even what kind of icing. But the basics are there so thought I would try it out and let you know if it is as good as what I remember from my youth when we visited the grandma at the other end of the Island.

I say, "the Island" because even though the ferry from Anacortes stopped at Lopez Island and Shaw Island on the way and Friday Harbor (on San Juan Island) and sometimes Sidney (on the International run) after, we only visited Orcas Island. As I've mentioned in another post, my parents lived there when I was born but just a couple years later, in April of 1942, we moved to the Seattle area and visited on occasion until we moved back in August of 1947. It was always "the Island" whether we were visiting in those days, going back after a trip to town when we lived there, or just for a visit later in life.

Grandma and Grandpa McNallie, my mother's parents, lived on a farm toward the west end between Orcas and Eastsound and Grandma and Grandpa Rodenberger, my father's parents, lived near the east end close to Olga on the road that led eventually to Doe Bay.

To visit Grandma Rodenberger we would drive from the McNallie farm down along the east side of Crow Valley; around Fowler's Corner (old Man Fowler was the only farmer on the Island still using horses to farm at that time); through the village of Eastsound past Outlook Inn, Roger Purdue's garage, the two churches and Templin's General Store; up over the hill then around Crescent Beach with its little vacation cottages and hollyhocks galore. We'd follow the road along the east side of East Sound past the old King Place, up Flaherty's Hill, past the the Old Flaherty place (mother's in-laws) and the road leading to Rosario and on through Moran State Park, down O'Neil's Hill past the old cannery building (now a souvenir store/restaurant) turn before going into Olga, drive down the little hill, around Buck Bay and there above us, nestled in the little valley, was the old Doak Place where Grandma Rodenberger lived.

As I say, I call her Grandma. Some of my readers may call her Great-Grandma, some may call her Grandma Braids, some may call her Great-Great-Grandma and a couple still around would call her mother.

My first memories of Grandma and Grandpa Rodenberger's place include Aunt Mary and Uncle Bob, both still living at home, and it was a cozy place heated by a wood burning kitchen stove and fireplace. Come to think of it there wasn't much else to heat with in those days and a man who didn't get in his firewood would be hungry and cold in the winter.

Out behind the main house next to the woodshed there was an old cider press that fascinated me and caused me to do some early pondering of screws and levers and mechanical advantage. In the cellar Grandpa R. kept apples in barrels. I remember being asked to go down and bring back a couple of good Kings (what we call Thompson King apples today) and Grandpa would sit in front of the fireplace, peel an apple with his pocket knife and smilingly say, "wonder what the poor folks are doing tonight."

Grandma R. reigned in the kitchen and I fondly remember her cinnamon twists and cinnamon rolls. Sometimes when we visited (if there was a convenient low tide) we would walk out to the rock and dig clams for a a mess of steamers and homemade bread. Or maybe we would have fried clams or a good clam chowder. Other times we might have some venison, fresh or canned. There had been seven children in the family so Grandma was an expert when it came to putting food on the table.

During the early forties Grandpa Rodenberger was finished with the strawberry business but I remember the old trucks with "G. H. Rodenberger & Sons" painted on the doors like ghosts waiting to make one more run to Bellingham or Portland with strawberry plants. He used to like to drive Packard cars and usually had a newer model. Riding in a Packard was different from the ride we experience today in even the most luxurious cars.

It was during this period I remember Uncle Bob getting "blood poisoning" from a cut on his hand while he was processing tulip or dahlia bulbs for Grandpa R.'s latest endeavor. In those days before sulfa drugs, antibiotics and other miracle drugs, people could and did die from blood poisoning. The treatment of choice was usually nothing more than a poultice and if worst came to worst, amputation to stop the spread of the infection. Fortunately Uncle Bob recovered and went on to a full life.

After visiting with the relatives at that end of the Island we'd head back to Grandma McNallie's place. But that's a tale for another time.

So, how did the cinnamon twists come out, you want to know. Well, as it turned out, we didn't have any sour cream so I'll try the recipe later and let you know if they are as good as what I remember from those days of long ago.

Hanami

The ides of March has passed and the new moon is coming. This is an interesting week.

The ides of March, May, July and October fell on the 15th day of those months and the 13th day of the other months according to the old Roman calendar. We don't hear much about those of the other months but the ides of March has been a significant day since Julius Caesar was assassinated on that day in 44 BC. Well, it has been made more significant to modern folk since Shakespeare wrote the famous exchange with the soothsayer, "Beware the ides of March" into his tragedy, Julius Caesar.

Hanami is the Japanese word for literally, "flower see" but is usually translated as "cherry blossom viewing." Since ancient times in Japan hanami has been an occasion for a picnic with sake drinking and singing while watching the cherry blossoms. Some places have lanterns, electric nowadays, for viewing and partying at night. It's still a little cool at night here so I think I'll do my hanami in the daytime only.

Hanami 3/18/15 in my backyard

The cherry blossom is especially significant to warriors and their families because the cherry, unlike most flowers, doesn't shrivel and die before it falls but its petals fall to the ground while in their prime, much like those warriors who are killed in battle in the prime of their youth.

Of course it also applies to all of life. "Here today, gone tomorrow." is an apt forecast of our life on earth. Uncertain and unpredictable, we need to make the most of our limited days by living and acting in ways that fulfill our best concepts of human life.

Normally our cherry tree doesn't bloom so close to the ides of March but this year and the last the flowers have been in full bloom on the eighteenth of March. In 2013 the picture I have of the cherry blossoms was taken on March 29th which is a more usual time for them to bloom here in our part of the world.

Our weeping cherry in full bloom

Earlier this month and even last month we could see the plum trees blooming here in Seattle. There is a Japanese word for plum tree viewing also. It is "umemi" and the practice of viewing plum blossoms is more popular among older people in Japan because there is less drinking and rowdy behavior under the plum trees than the cherries.

In the first paragraph, above, I mentioned the new moon. This Friday is the new moon but I don't know any significance attached to that except what the old timers said about salmon fishing being better in "the dark of the moon."

The full moon however, does have significance. It has been linked to everything from lunacy to lovers. I especially like the "harvest" moon and "hunter's" moons since they come in the fall when the full moon tends to be lower in the sky and its light is filtered through more of the earth's atmosphere so it appears reddish.

In Japan the fall full moon is seen as another occasion for a party. The party to watch the full moon, "tsukimi" usually involves special foods such as sweet potatoes, beans, chestnuts and perhaps others from the fall harvest. Of course, there will also probably be sake or other alcohol. Some restaurants offer special dishes during the season.

Traditionally the viewing places were arranged on a pier or on a boat so the reflection of the full moon on the water could be enjoyed along with the view of the real thing in the heavens. I understand that the party can even be held if the night is cloudy and there are specialized Japanese words that mean a moon viewing party when the moon isn't visible.

I like that concept, no need to cancel the party just because the main star (or moon in this case) doesn't show up.

Email Alerts

Finally, I got the email signup gadget to work.

 If you want to receive notification via your favorite email whenever I post a new blog entry you can enter your email address in the block to the right and click the submit button. Complete the sign up window by copying the crazy text into the box and you are set.

 It has been an interesting learning process to work out the bugs from this blog. With lots of help from my friend, Charlie, I'm gradually getting it whipped into shape. The email link was one that took awhile to fix and the white background on the 50th Anniversary post took time because of the length and having to manually change the HTML code to change the background color but it's done too.

 Now I need to find time to write more reports so you'll have more to read. ;-)

Happy New Year

Yesterday, on pi day for this century, Ikuko and I went to a New Year party sponsored by the Japan Shumy & Culture Society and held at the Nisei Betsu Kaikan (Japanese American Veterans Hall) near Beacon Hill here in Seattle. When it was built after WWII to honor the memories of the fallen Nisei soldiers from Washington State it was in a mostly Japanese-American area. Times change, today it is in the middle of Little Saigon.

Entrance to the Memorial Wall

 Originally honoring the 57 KIA (killed in action) WWII Nisei veterans (from Washington) who volunteered or were drafted from the concentration camps (or to use the current politically correct term, internment camps) where they and their families had been sent following President Roosevelt’s order removing Americans of Japanese ancestry from the west coast, the memorial wall has been expanded to honor three from Korea, three from Vietnam and 1 from Grenada.

 The unit in which most of these men served was the 442nd RCT (Regimental Combat Team). This racially segregated unit was composed of Nisei troops and ended up as the most highly decorated unit in our history, based on its length of service and size.

Seattle Nisei Veterans Committee Logo

 I spent some time again looking at the pictures and other mementoes and found them quite moving. There is a Medal of Honor room and although it was closed today I have toured it on a previous visit. 

Back to the New Year party. You might think it strange to celebrate the New Year in the middle of March but most Asians celebrate the lunar New Year which began on February 19th this year and stretches for two or three or four weeks depending on the group celebrating.

This year is the year of the sheep or ram or goat depending on who is translating the word. In Chinese the word is yang and can mean sheep or goat. In Japanese the word is yagi and, again, can mean sheep or goat. If you want to differentiate the male or female animal in Japanese you add the male or female modifier. Sounds complicated but why worry, I’ll just call it the year of the sheep.

Party Guests

 The group of people at the party is getting smaller year by year. I think they have the same problem as other fraternal groups, the young people aren’t interested in joining and the older people are dying off. I did a quick count today and there were about 46 older women, four older men (including me) and around 20 younger people. The younger ones were, for the most part, children or caregivers of the older folks.

 Two of the younger people there today were a young (25?) man from Japan and a Buddhist priest.

After the priest led us in a silent prayer he gave a short lesson on the origin of the phrase “gochisosama” in Japanese which is said to the host(ess) after a meal. I learned something new. He (priest) said the initial “go” is an honorific, the “chi” character means “to run,” the “so” character also means “to run” and the "sama" is another honorific for person. So the total meaning is “you are an honorable person who has run and run.” It is understood that the running is connected to gathering the ingredients and preparing the meal. After that lesson we tucked into a nice box lunch (obento). It reminded me of the ones we used to get at the train stations in Japan.

An Excellent Obento 

 Next on the program were karaoke singers and some dancers. “Karaoke” is an interesting word. It was created about forty years ago from two words in Japanese. The first was “karapo” meaning “empty” and the second was “okestura” meaning orchestra. The first part of each original word was combined into the new word meaning “empty orchestra.” The empty orchestra plays the music and it’s up to the singer to supply the voice. If you’ve ever listened to karaoke you’ll remember that while the empty orchestra is always good the voices vary from excellent to not so good. But everyone seems to have a good time.

Traditional Dancers Celebrating the Year of the Sheep

 At the end of the singing and dancing the young man from Japan demonstrated a typical cheer that he leads during a sporting event. Very athletic and loud he was. I’m sure his team was inspired to work hard to win.

 After the program there was a typical Japanese ending to the party when door prizes were given out; not just a few people but everyone received a door prize. Ikuko got a box of Kleenex and a hand towel; I got a three pound bag of sugar. What a happy ending to a nice New Year party.