tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50115280725737715412024-03-11T23:10:21.205-04:00Mary Kunz GoldmanShop MaryKunzGoldmanArt.Etsy.Com and Zazzle.com/Store/MaryKunzGoldmanMary Kunz Goldmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02691118577179541037noreply@blogger.comBlogger2073125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011528072573771541.post-2513509741486482372024-03-10T19:30:00.000-04:002024-03-10T19:30:49.265-04:00My Artist's Date at the Zoo<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglqFYbftb_AHQjnLKVdZsPgDbBLKoZqtL0VSdZNZw2BTVe0UgjGrVcqy0rh_fszK2UicSoDL9VIGgtHbWPmEoTdazNmkvxycHWzczkQKBCquFTkMdN6c5b1XsNRGFmSYAnwLdHDmEM2ZakRWVtV1cI5jrzGYVdpHW5kPV2vQojJIfHGBgqwx8V2hpWD84/s4032/20240309_130009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglqFYbftb_AHQjnLKVdZsPgDbBLKoZqtL0VSdZNZw2BTVe0UgjGrVcqy0rh_fszK2UicSoDL9VIGgtHbWPmEoTdazNmkvxycHWzczkQKBCquFTkMdN6c5b1XsNRGFmSYAnwLdHDmEM2ZakRWVtV1cI5jrzGYVdpHW5kPV2vQojJIfHGBgqwx8V2hpWD84/w400-h300/20240309_130009.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p>I have had two more <a href="http://marykunzgoldman.com/search?q=artist%27s+date" target="_blank">Artist's Dates </a>and one of them was to the Buffalo Zoo!</p><p>This is a Victorian zoological gardens, in that it dates from 1875. It is across the street from my house. I mean I can see it from my front window, and at night I can hear the roaring of the lions.</p><p>However I almost never go there! Of course I was there when I was little. We all go to zoos when we are little. Then we go there again when we have little kids. However we never go there as adults on our own. Which, I just did that. And I totally recommend it!</p><p>The book "The Artist's Way," as I may have explained, demands that your Artist's Dates be on your own. You do not bring anybody! When I look around YouTube there are some YouTube gals who say you can take baby steps and bring someone else. However I strongly disagree. Get your act together and go somewhere on your own. It will not kill you. And when you are on your own you make your own decisions and you listen to your own thoughts. Do you want to stay and watch the polar bears for an hour? You do it. Do you want to wait until no one else is around so you can shoot a video? You can wait. </p><p>It gets extremely relaxing, I have to say that. You just wander around, accountable to no one.<br /></p><p>La la la la la la la.</p><p>Above is a picture I took of the capybara in the Buffalo Zoo's Rainforest exhibit. Just the Rainforest exhibit by itself is worth the price of admission to the zoo. You get to hang out in a
tropical environment for as long as you want, listening to the
waterfall, admiring lush greenery, looking at parrots...</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFFFpXMcwhvdLZseKGdgj4WbnORVHSRC-KYXmJBRlZvYbhAKYzX-BKH84UdSWunJZb_3LMGQVVnkAEiM1xiLpkIHiVlPxBoev07kc9IGzCGJDFH2hZMkk9u-HApLRpKaQ3QQzPQmQ67igDY31A4hC8wvKB9I9mPdfajoQQ5vk42ECytG21c1gaYSxmgvs/s4032/20240310_145732.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFFFpXMcwhvdLZseKGdgj4WbnORVHSRC-KYXmJBRlZvYbhAKYzX-BKH84UdSWunJZb_3LMGQVVnkAEiM1xiLpkIHiVlPxBoev07kc9IGzCGJDFH2hZMkk9u-HApLRpKaQ3QQzPQmQ67igDY31A4hC8wvKB9I9mPdfajoQQ5vk42ECytG21c1gaYSxmgvs/s320/20240310_145732.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>... and turtles and capybaras. There is also a Giant Anteater in there though I have not seen him. My Seek app saw him! I pointed the app at some birds and for some reason it spotted the Giant Anteater though I could not, and that was what it identified.</p><p>At least I could see the capybara. There is no missing him! I texted a picture of the capy to my friend Ryan. Ryan loves rodents!</p><p>Ryan wrote back: "As they used to say at the Erie County Fair: "Come see the RAT that's bigger than a CAT!"</p><p>After that I could not stop laughing.</p><p>These Artist's Dates, I am not sure what they are doing.</p><p>But at least they are keeping me entertained!<br /></p><p><br /></p>Mary Kunz Goldmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02691118577179541037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011528072573771541.post-37125950437926389342024-03-07T23:42:00.001-05:002024-03-07T23:42:21.081-05:00Fountain Pen heaven<p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOPjHQ5hbkJrXJhgJqOTxn9F93w9Dj4BRkHx9WxCu2cdiXzrPng0I1D2qPTS8kDN-Kjmb1iSx-HHAGuKZEwrCRLiPOEOENFISEtCTx93FQpyqDyJtr2LeCdS2fWPIoueZkN3nsXTKo_ED6i1QoT-QEM9koMTHDt9dQlKV0lgR9LPO_Aly4KAwAGeOwSfs/s3024/fountain%20pens.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="3024" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOPjHQ5hbkJrXJhgJqOTxn9F93w9Dj4BRkHx9WxCu2cdiXzrPng0I1D2qPTS8kDN-Kjmb1iSx-HHAGuKZEwrCRLiPOEOENFISEtCTx93FQpyqDyJtr2LeCdS2fWPIoueZkN3nsXTKo_ED6i1QoT-QEM9koMTHDt9dQlKV0lgR9LPO_Aly4KAwAGeOwSfs/s320/fountain%20pens.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />My new fountain pens are all filled now and in working order. I waited until this morning to take care of all that. These things always take patience, in my experience.<p></p><p>Above is a photo I took of my growing collection!</p><p>I bought, do not ask me why, an Oasis Light notebook to go with the purple fountain pen which, yes, I filled with a cartridge of purple ink. All this was a struggle by the way. I am making it sound easy however it required help from Howard and from, ahem, artificial intelligence. The end justifies the means!<br /></p><p>The purple pen is a Pilot. It comes from Japan. The other two pens are Lamys and they come from Germany.</p><p>Above is a picture of my growing family. The purple Pilot pen is at the top, and the Lamy pens are beneath.</p><p>Here is the purple pen with the Oasis notebook.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik6uqICJeCubS5dAiZrtHhWtJQrHbD6ULSMIfJ2w7VtIdSnzINHvZgBViLrcEDOa7pX8M6nMkxpv_O3kXVYN7IJ0ErnkGi19pKHkyIqW8reiO7dt-0hPEDO2h0424Rq-BitHeNTaoa_X2zU99fq1hLSRnhsCWQLBJiVqDh-lF1mI7mk9n9VDVLz1d4Y-M/s1066/purple%20pen%20and%20oasis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1066" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik6uqICJeCubS5dAiZrtHhWtJQrHbD6ULSMIfJ2w7VtIdSnzINHvZgBViLrcEDOa7pX8M6nMkxpv_O3kXVYN7IJ0ErnkGi19pKHkyIqW8reiO7dt-0hPEDO2h0424Rq-BitHeNTaoa_X2zU99fq1hLSRnhsCWQLBJiVqDh-lF1mI7mk9n9VDVLz1d4Y-M/s320/purple%20pen%20and%20oasis.jpg" width="240" /></a></div> <p></p><p>What to do with that notebook? That is the question.</p><p>The inside of the notebook said to check their website, OasisNotebook.com for "a lot of great tips on how to use this notebook." So I did.</p><p>All they had on there was <a href="https://itoya.com/products/notebooks-journals/oasis-notebook-tips-and-tricks/" target="_blank">how to print artistically</a> in your notebook.</p><p>Not write, as in longhand. Print!</p><p>This is what the world has come to. No more cursive writing. Which really bugs me. If you do not know handwriting, how are you to appreciate looking at the Declaration of Independence? How can you read Mozart's catalog of his works if you happen on it in the British Museum? I remember once going to the Karpeles Manuscript Museum because they were displaying musical manuscripts, and I marveled at Mendelssohn's handwriting, so perfect and flowing and scholarly. If we do not bring back handwriting, no one will be able to understand that.</p><p>Oh well. I will fight the powers the only way I know how.</p><p>Speak softly, and carry a fountain pen!<br /></p><p><br /></p>Mary Kunz Goldmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02691118577179541037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011528072573771541.post-41676369440161933632024-03-06T00:02:00.000-05:002024-03-07T23:42:38.268-05:00In the Land of Fountain Pens<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWl0tlAC2JYe0PfhWRqXmSp3Ma-idCTt2rtsGrXyv9DRqY8mIj4Hv8viTM_BW3cJ03J2r_sfDjcUzhwIh2nqBrz6XoOsjMOKGxyALei1EOWKuKGQBz6c0wZx3oCJGAaxtthOIU70G6hZUdsWA99Taz4uOaZQJSIj8-ZXEpSQ9-SLPZ2idUrAz0FwKSFL0/s1421/inks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1066" data-original-width="1421" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWl0tlAC2JYe0PfhWRqXmSp3Ma-idCTt2rtsGrXyv9DRqY8mIj4Hv8viTM_BW3cJ03J2r_sfDjcUzhwIh2nqBrz6XoOsjMOKGxyALei1EOWKuKGQBz6c0wZx3oCJGAaxtthOIU70G6hZUdsWA99Taz4uOaZQJSIj8-ZXEpSQ9-SLPZ2idUrAz0FwKSFL0/w400-h300/inks.jpg" width="400" /></a></div> <p></p><p>Today I went back to Hyatt's and bought a new fountain pen. It could not be helped!</p><p>OK, I bought two fountain pens. I admit it.</p><p>One was a Lamy. I already have a Lamy however I had to get another one because a few days ago I splurged on this fancy giant jar of Cobalt Blue ink by -- wait for it, Graf von Faber-Castell. Not merely Faber-Castell which we are used to seeing.Graf von Faber-Castell. The count of Faber-Castell!</p><p>So the Lamy pen was one. However I also went and bought a Pilot fountain pen.</p><p>Then cartridges to keep both of the pens fed.</p><p>I notice in the same series as the Cobalt Blue, the great Count of Faber-Castell also offers Garnet Red ink. Just the word "ink," I love it, you know? I will wind up owning all these inks.</p><p>Once you go into Hyatt you can never come out. Above is a picture I took of just a small portion of their ink department. It is not even the fountain pen department, or the ink paper department! It is just the ink. A tiny fraction of it.</p><p>Here is a bit of the ink aisle looking north. <br /></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHI2aPGb7WzukUp7fcdD-nHD-5fh7Q74TNTLOyjvEd4zFAie9H_CI5X0jPN75NRb4w493yXFlKqsVYoIK-fY58iQ-MeZz_u_nI7Qg-QBpS8WpCP3DU74VFMJMjzoUHATraKiIhW6dqB1Jij9U9FsfPQIN2vjas0etbIBPfkAZpyOLDoQwZQlzU6xxIVeY/s1421/inks%202.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1066" data-original-width="1421" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHI2aPGb7WzukUp7fcdD-nHD-5fh7Q74TNTLOyjvEd4zFAie9H_CI5X0jPN75NRb4w493yXFlKqsVYoIK-fY58iQ-MeZz_u_nI7Qg-QBpS8WpCP3DU74VFMJMjzoUHATraKiIhW6dqB1Jij9U9FsfPQIN2vjas0etbIBPfkAZpyOLDoQwZQlzU6xxIVeY/w400-h300/inks%202.jpg" width="400" /> </a></p><p>The inks are amazing. They come from Germany and France and Japan. The inks are interchangeable of you have a pen you can fill up, so I make sure that I do.</p><p>The inks are ready for their closeup!</p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjobgE9IhqBtvEum1r5MlRq8az8K79GtsG9jkAZPY1DIQOWVWpijfgkbAEmtMvX_5c9fCWjkDjt12hBwNm38903neWQyNx1aXmIMB_4NCDSmwYxXfGkQwlieea6Ljmv2LmVSOfgGb8FEHdOb_JM_sfXhVf6GRWw7JXgMh7Ce9x4CQ1_tpiNNCbfwyU1n90/s1421/inks%203.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1066" data-original-width="1421" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjobgE9IhqBtvEum1r5MlRq8az8K79GtsG9jkAZPY1DIQOWVWpijfgkbAEmtMvX_5c9fCWjkDjt12hBwNm38903neWQyNx1aXmIMB_4NCDSmwYxXfGkQwlieea6Ljmv2LmVSOfgGb8FEHdOb_JM_sfXhVf6GRWw7JXgMh7Ce9x4CQ1_tpiNNCbfwyU1n90/w400-h300/inks%203.jpg" width="400" /></a></p>Mary Kunz Goldmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02691118577179541037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011528072573771541.post-48090294167539590052024-03-04T19:39:00.005-05:002024-03-04T19:39:46.936-05:00A Summer Day in Buffalo Town<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicGjgJcg1qdH2b-1SYCflr8pUl4aoD6S3pbnMjIKNPtPoG2R4tqUX8chhNJDeptxfMOPSGRWeh9oLcucXeV2zZwKc69p7LcOuDGn7dZ2ndyqQFhVD5HRnazywym7yU_aEd9isjPFEEf39C8-XmVeA8mviDD_RXrXQY1xFHKTB_3qZF3zsJ3jWZUd-Uq60/s4032/20240304_102332.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicGjgJcg1qdH2b-1SYCflr8pUl4aoD6S3pbnMjIKNPtPoG2R4tqUX8chhNJDeptxfMOPSGRWeh9oLcucXeV2zZwKc69p7LcOuDGn7dZ2ndyqQFhVD5HRnazywym7yU_aEd9isjPFEEf39C8-XmVeA8mviDD_RXrXQY1xFHKTB_3qZF3zsJ3jWZUd-Uq60/w400-h300/20240304_102332.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />Today it was summer!<p></p><p>Just a few days after my freezing Artist's Date just last week, suddenly, as Howard said, it was as if we all flew to North Carolina. It was almost 70 degrees! My friend Ryan and I went and sat on the beach and took the sea air. And earlier, I took the picture above when I walked around Delaware Park.</p><p>The water was so clear.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxrbyAXc1Vwf2fyrq29g1Wf_aCO4hSkzIFhpp6pnIWrZBj5yKuk0KANYtTScQQHddW8jiDuF5g3uQKcxR8Ul35ic_H1VRYuGj3joE1iOjXVFgVX35XgYGFa5obg_xtw1RS28w8dPxVbQZo2VqcjNtxJbaa4Tth9IothHRgdzpAj-OsgDp0n0pNKHGiReY/s4032/20240304_102339.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxrbyAXc1Vwf2fyrq29g1Wf_aCO4hSkzIFhpp6pnIWrZBj5yKuk0KANYtTScQQHddW8jiDuF5g3uQKcxR8Ul35ic_H1VRYuGj3joE1iOjXVFgVX35XgYGFa5obg_xtw1RS28w8dPxVbQZo2VqcjNtxJbaa4Tth9IothHRgdzpAj-OsgDp0n0pNKHGiReY/w400-h300/20240304_102339.jpg" width="400" /></a></div> <p></p><p>I kept hoping I would see the <a href="http://marykunzgoldman.com/2023/05/snapping-snapping-turtle.html" target="_blank">giant snapping turtle</a> again. I am on complete Turtle Alert and I am sure he and I will meet up in the future!<br /></p><p>In the afternoon at the beach Ryan and I sat on Adirondack chairs in the sun and it was so warm we could almost complain about the heat. That is always fun, the first time each year when you can complain about the heat. We are not quite there yet but we will be soon.</p><p>Our usual spot, Wilkeson Pointe, is closed for construction. They cannot keep their hands off of Wilkeson Pointe. Here all our other parks need fixing and nothing needs fixing at Wilkeson Pointe and yet Wilkeson Pointe gets the attention. It is like working in the garden. You gravitate towards the area where everything is doing well and all the flowers are coming up. And that patch of bishop's weed -- oh, you leave that alone.</p><p>What with the summer weather I am thinking about my next Artist's Way Artist's Date. I am thinking a mani/pedi. Does that count as an Artist's Date?</p><p>I was thinking that being a pianist I should get a manicure. Leonard Pennario always got manicures. When I knew him he was still getting them. You need your hands to look good on a piano. I will have to tell the manicurist to make my nails short because I am a pianist. <br /></p><p>This is a wonderful time of year, very early spring.</p><p>The possibilities are endless!<br /> <br /></p><p></p><p><br /></p>Mary Kunz Goldmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02691118577179541037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011528072573771541.post-12660617061976999762024-03-03T19:52:00.000-05:002024-03-03T19:52:14.994-05:00Sunday in the Gorge With George<p>Because of an unforeseen sequence of events, I did not end up at Zoar Valley today with my friend Barbara as I had thought I would, to conclude our Western New York Hiking challenge.<br /></p><p>Instead I ended up at Artpark, walking the gorge trail along the Niagara River!</p><p>My friend Barbara ended up going with her husband to Eighteen Mile Creek, an undeveloped -- that dreaded word! -- park in Hamburg. And I went with my brother George to Artpark.</p><p>Neither of us went to Zoar. Which is probably just as well, Zoar having the dangerous reputation that it does.</p><p>Artpark is also pretty impressive, I have to say that. <br /></p><p>Here is my brother George setting off on the trail. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ7ls02pJ7DkQMFkMVYi2zHNRFABvAIwDoc4Gm7iHWbMTg4UfR7JWewgtGGyPVe7UalksW3_nmARhbpPKC1rJ_3eoMjNC7CLQ5_gtC7MfCyBpa10kNjX0M7_0O5eQbvBMY4fLFj6kG6ibO5ke9MiY8TCr6WUN-2MTHXj1BlIU6yE2XlE1vEgjFZ7kp43I/s295/george%20on%20trail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="221" data-original-width="295" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ7ls02pJ7DkQMFkMVYi2zHNRFABvAIwDoc4Gm7iHWbMTg4UfR7JWewgtGGyPVe7UalksW3_nmARhbpPKC1rJ_3eoMjNC7CLQ5_gtC7MfCyBpa10kNjX0M7_0O5eQbvBMY4fLFj6kG6ibO5ke9MiY8TCr6WUN-2MTHXj1BlIU6yE2XlE1vEgjFZ7kp43I/w400-h300/george%20on%20trail.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />That is the beautiful Lewiston-Queenston bridge in the distance!<p></p><p>I asked George to go with me because I thought he knew his way around the terrain. He did not! My dad had taken him walking to see the remnants of the old Great Gorge Route where the streetcars used to go, however that had been 30 years ago or more.</p><p>So we explored it together. We could not get over that these trails were there. We have been to Artpark hundreds of times, many of them together. However we never went near these trails. As I just said to someone, all I have ever done at Artpark is listen to music and drink wine. And write concert reviews. I did a million Artpark reviews for The Buffalo News.</p><p><a href="http://marykunzgoldman.com/2009/07/midnight-on-290.html" target="_blank">Remember the one where St. Christopher saved me on the way home?</a> </p><p>Next to that adventure, this one was a cakewalk!<br /></p><p>As these hikes go, this one was easy to follow. You were just supposed to walk this trail. You did not have to turn right or left or look for anything, aside from the waterfall that I was supposed to get my picture taken with.</p><p>There were three waterfalls. Here I am with one of them.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGRksFO25laA0uEGZQVz_v82vf5h9ag6MWEPOSpuZURC2kce3Er2IH_WPluQc0hE0wZHFOrAtiKLrHiSJ1_SyIjeD0s0_4u1l5e9D-NVdJ5uISxyDE442ktIiHiyO1gih4toM2TgwBZ-JZmaBMQMnGwj6zx9jjGCRKQnTWGW7NT3pZFCKESQGdsAMiw4I/s4032/20240303_155435.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGRksFO25laA0uEGZQVz_v82vf5h9ag6MWEPOSpuZURC2kce3Er2IH_WPluQc0hE0wZHFOrAtiKLrHiSJ1_SyIjeD0s0_4u1l5e9D-NVdJ5uISxyDE442ktIiHiyO1gih4toM2TgwBZ-JZmaBMQMnGwj6zx9jjGCRKQnTWGW7NT3pZFCKESQGdsAMiw4I/w300-h400/20240303_155435.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /> I did not need that bulky pink coat today! However this trip was very spontaneous and I did not have time to turn the house upside down and my closets inside out.<p></p><p>This is really a magnificent part of the world. There is a color called Niagara that is the deep green of the river, and the river today was really that Niagara color.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqTQ7bXZs2x3uUy_SmDVUM44tWysck7poY6qEj40Yj_ZjTcg1He-uWJvvyDT_28fMcf0Dx-_oQk8mtvB6rgkzCfaCK2vtaKe74Sc3upG4OE7RoxNHpGPLpHfFnyVNtaC-qW_tA7mCBSXO8YP7j2ruOlo_hODLStxlq76lLDLco_0wnFz8wKX2PuwSeoow/s4032/20240303_155955.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqTQ7bXZs2x3uUy_SmDVUM44tWysck7poY6qEj40Yj_ZjTcg1He-uWJvvyDT_28fMcf0Dx-_oQk8mtvB6rgkzCfaCK2vtaKe74Sc3upG4OE7RoxNHpGPLpHfFnyVNtaC-qW_tA7mCBSXO8YP7j2ruOlo_hODLStxlq76lLDLco_0wnFz8wKX2PuwSeoow/w400-h300/20240303_155955.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcbkGh9yO10XT-4BY2TrQ1uZHRbxse67mbBRpcWEhvd2uUvz6d1oQmn8sAQlsqYlPdD2muYh9ruWCfUrbmExz9NKhPuXXn_X74HO4vLMi6mG1Sj-Pg0DJJfAErb2R5AB4Ju8pid9-I3633S_7YRFT3R8C-ll6HWntT2qR5elW0qD8Pcchmaz3o4X1uT4/s4032/20240303_155943.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtcbkGh9yO10XT-4BY2TrQ1uZHRbxse67mbBRpcWEhvd2uUvz6d1oQmn8sAQlsqYlPdD2muYh9ruWCfUrbmExz9NKhPuXXn_X74HO4vLMi6mG1Sj-Pg0DJJfAErb2R5AB4Ju8pid9-I3633S_7YRFT3R8C-ll6HWntT2qR5elW0qD8Pcchmaz3o4X1uT4/w400-h300/20240303_155943.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_qha9hQmhLD-r0KEuwmdt8mWkcxTO5sC96Nbrk-vUphrzRtiDLAkslrqehuCf_ITrlOIHqOSnzboR1JR_0YbzR7lw_N2LhOT7BmaDIYBLogEyn7K-3chCXHe_yMtaOCe99dYw0KkxuE_onhoTk0dvijugMsRMXmjrLZuEQ-4w4T0rgjrQCmhvyW21Nc0/s4032/20240303_160344.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_qha9hQmhLD-r0KEuwmdt8mWkcxTO5sC96Nbrk-vUphrzRtiDLAkslrqehuCf_ITrlOIHqOSnzboR1JR_0YbzR7lw_N2LhOT7BmaDIYBLogEyn7K-3chCXHe_yMtaOCe99dYw0KkxuE_onhoTk0dvijugMsRMXmjrLZuEQ-4w4T0rgjrQCmhvyW21Nc0/w400-h300/20240303_160344.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj26UjU7Bj5pg8lQVUyzImgDEMIsWzsaqD4u2nUDV2h39F2fASqIvmJFIPBfalTwMuF8qVz0RxEiXrPkgYXXc-sikWjuE8HCjZ_eKhW-CWc7SnN-R27RWv6-W-Jk0ZCvhaZ9-M92bHugOMsr3kFdbKstVnAT15gK1vN2ZzI1N-FwNWPzNs3lIVtVDMz5Og/s4032/20240303_154534.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj26UjU7Bj5pg8lQVUyzImgDEMIsWzsaqD4u2nUDV2h39F2fASqIvmJFIPBfalTwMuF8qVz0RxEiXrPkgYXXc-sikWjuE8HCjZ_eKhW-CWc7SnN-R27RWv6-W-Jk0ZCvhaZ9-M92bHugOMsr3kFdbKstVnAT15gK1vN2ZzI1N-FwNWPzNs3lIVtVDMz5Og/w400-h300/20240303_154534.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0VADL9NVSu-xMTfoUBlemjlHrh1Wg-vn2hNzdwnA5afPAM1Gww6XwoWR9zZk3G-7kBQDpM885tICXUUakC7fynQTpHJlRapbRgXYj6hOCp1qsnnJUWX_r2UeTow-x-xegrK1LUgDtY322W5eC2LYC530HA3Fl_9inij4SqspTTDvGzAJjVyNjrw9TpJI/s4032/20240303_162439.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0VADL9NVSu-xMTfoUBlemjlHrh1Wg-vn2hNzdwnA5afPAM1Gww6XwoWR9zZk3G-7kBQDpM885tICXUUakC7fynQTpHJlRapbRgXYj6hOCp1qsnnJUWX_r2UeTow-x-xegrK1LUgDtY322W5eC2LYC530HA3Fl_9inij4SqspTTDvGzAJjVyNjrw9TpJI/w400-h300/20240303_162439.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p>I like that building visible in the first and last pictures -- an old power station apparently, on the Canadian side.</p><p>I also loved looking up at the American and Canadian flags over the Lewiston-Queenston bridge. My parents loved this part of the country. They loved Canada too. My father would always tell us that the Canadians were great gardeners and he would point out that Canada was cleaner than the U.S. This old power station has such an elegant old British Commonwealth look. It makes me think of the Edwardian era.</p><p>Now I want to know about the Great Gorge Route, where its remains are to be found. Actually I want to go back in time and ride the streetcar along that route. That must have been a thrill!</p><p>We stopped for a picnic beneath the Lewiston-Queenston Bridge and enjoyed the vistas. <br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH9N6aYz20iTDWy9UhQ8udMeHgrf1mY3Y7PDrGydOJFAQbCqYN-m1VJtilo9OgEhWCOO37lUllBKxMxfPdZ1TnNc8kdnV6MVz3F8a4V6Yax039HeBZacdPdgoKfKNncpDyvSpDwpFX6K7gRA7NjbUZ7KMmWnImWjbUXCG0MO55trN4TPot-fRkfpCPz50/s4032/20240303_160158.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH9N6aYz20iTDWy9UhQ8udMeHgrf1mY3Y7PDrGydOJFAQbCqYN-m1VJtilo9OgEhWCOO37lUllBKxMxfPdZ1TnNc8kdnV6MVz3F8a4V6Yax039HeBZacdPdgoKfKNncpDyvSpDwpFX6K7gRA7NjbUZ7KMmWnImWjbUXCG0MO55trN4TPot-fRkfpCPz50/w400-h300/20240303_160158.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p>A beautiful hike, if a bit frightening at times! You do get close to the edge.</p><p>George and I agreed that we enjoyed the adventure tremendously. For us however it is not the thrill of hiking that we love. Hikers, I love them, however to them the point seems to be conquering adverse elements and terrain and visiting places that are not easily accessible. They also love employing tons of equipment -- snowshoes, spikes on their shoes, who knows what all.</p><p>Me, I like to travel with just Chapstick and a sketchbook. I do not even usually bring water. I love visiting places that are easily accessible. I can walk endlessly, I mean miles and miles. However I would prefer they are easy miles. I want to relax. Take the air. Look around.</p><p>I felt I could do that today. And now this is my eighth hike and I win my badge!</p><p>My old hiking partner Barbara also earned her badge for her hike at Eighteen Mile Creek.</p><p>As we love to declare...</p><p>We are the champions!<br /></p>Mary Kunz Goldmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02691118577179541037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011528072573771541.post-81079736239727188742024-03-02T19:23:00.003-05:002024-03-02T19:23:58.420-05:00Our sally to Zoar Valley<p><a href="http://marykunzgoldman.com/search?q=hiking" target="_blank"></a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUX11M0vl4_l4GWnzGklH5-vkfd0HEDbDrRf407ASzd4YGDEHxkNs2Ltrdeli0ewRuyKWX5BZhhrS4bNfXJ8N410QoEnjTDfWOYkkRpF2ZaXe6rnUoMM7N9WGqk8ECGOcQV1eo3B42bAcfAtgnZvgcrEU5wBwda-0F5oJoaTOv5EJ0EXf5ye_FSRT4kko/s4032/20240301_104834.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUX11M0vl4_l4GWnzGklH5-vkfd0HEDbDrRf407ASzd4YGDEHxkNs2Ltrdeli0ewRuyKWX5BZhhrS4bNfXJ8N410QoEnjTDfWOYkkRpF2ZaXe6rnUoMM7N9WGqk8ECGOcQV1eo3B42bAcfAtgnZvgcrEU5wBwda-0F5oJoaTOv5EJ0EXf5ye_FSRT4kko/w400-h300/20240301_104834.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />Remember my hiking challenge? My hiking partner, Barbara, and I are reaching the end of our trail.<p></p><p>We have only one hike to go!</p><p>You had to complete eight hikes before St. Joseph's Day, March 19. The hiking patriarch did not state it as St. Joseph's Day however that is how I can remember it. It makes sense because St. Joseph is the patron saint of Buffalo.</p><p>St. Joseph, pray for us!</p><p>We are trying to figure out what hike to do to conclude our saga. The search has narrowed somewhat because, not being dummies, we tend to reject hikes labeled "difficult" or, God forbid, "strenuous." That eliminates Emery Park, no matter how many picnics I have gone on there, and Boutwell Forest, wherever that is.</p><p>However we want to end our hiking adventure in a blaze of glory and so we are zeroing in on Zoar Valley. <br /></p><p>Zoar like an eagle as we say! Barbara even texted me the icon of an eagle.</p><p>That is not Zoar Valley pictured above. That is just Hoyt Lake in Delaware Park, a photo I took yesterday. I needed a picture of God's country, though, and it did the trick. </p><p>The Zoar hike is labeled "difficult" -- however we have it on good authority that the trails are clearly marked. As they darned well should be. A couple of steps in the wrong direction, and you could be in trouble.</p><p>Clearly marked trails are rare and wonderful. Deciphering the maps has been the toughest part of this hiking adventure. I will report how it goes. It will certainly be an exalted finish for an adventure that began humbly with Tifft Nature Preserve, which both of us hiked in sneakers.</p><p>This will be a good challenge to face tomorrow. However it will not be the greatest challenge of the day! That honor belongs to Orlando Gibbons, the English Renaissance composer. I have to sing Gibbons' "Almighty and Everlasting God" with the St. Louis Choir at the 11 a.m. Mass. The choir has sung it before however I have not and so I have been cramming. </p><p>"Stretch forth Thy right hand -- Thy right hand --" That is me! Over and over.</p><p>Two challenges, awaiting me tomorrow.</p><p>Challenges accepted!<br /></p>Mary Kunz Goldmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02691118577179541037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011528072573771541.post-76318437421320664972024-03-01T06:51:00.005-05:002024-03-01T07:25:18.056-05:00An Artist's Date with Charles Burchfield<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglL21SfinJHzofAa1m6f-uPiYRf96a7KzihR7M5XtFFeOc8AOvdvnoCR9rE32hj27ndXDI1ck3eTNCqIVO5n65z-kVnic6N2JoCQLcTsgkvXyXJgkMaCccevNgrgX98hu6cfwPQzKPR42nNKJf91HsIh_SKYurmiyPKV-CS8rfiKAm3g-PNOmQ6Ir9aM4/s2500/Burchfield%20for%20blog.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2500" data-original-width="2000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglL21SfinJHzofAa1m6f-uPiYRf96a7KzihR7M5XtFFeOc8AOvdvnoCR9rE32hj27ndXDI1ck3eTNCqIVO5n65z-kVnic6N2JoCQLcTsgkvXyXJgkMaCccevNgrgX98hu6cfwPQzKPR42nNKJf91HsIh_SKYurmiyPKV-CS8rfiKAm3g-PNOmQ6Ir9aM4/s320/Burchfield%20for%20blog.jpg" width="256" /></a></div><p>As I confided yesterday, <a href="http://marykunzgoldman.com/2024/02/my-first-artists-way-artist-date.html" target="_blank">I am working through Julia Cameron's famous book "The Artist's Way."</a> I am on Chapter Two and yesterday I decided it was time for my second Artist's Date.</p><p>These are forays you make on your own, to anywhere -- it is just supposed to be something you enjoy, something that's fun. Technically you are supposed to plan them in advance. Yeah right, as Leonard Pennario used to say. I will get better at this however right now I am just trying to make sure these Artist's Dates happen. You do a chapter of the book a week and one Artist's Date a week. This weekend is kind of crowded and I wanted to make sure I did not fall behind with things.</p><p>I have a list of possibilities for Artist's Dates. It is easy to overthink them and I have vowed not to. I think I get the gist of it, which is to step out of your routine, do something different.</p><p>So yesterday I carved out a couple of hours and sallied out to the Burchfield Nature Center in Gardenville, i.e. West Seneca. It was actually not far from Cazenovia Park where I went for my first Artist's Date. South Buffalo and West Seneca are neighbors.</p><p>And speaking of neighbors, guess what was right across the street from the Burchfield Nature Center?<br /></p><p>Beautiful <a href="http://marykunzgoldman.com/search?q=fourteen+holy+helpers" target="_blank">Fourteen Holy Helpers</a>! <br /></p><p>The Burchfield Nature Center is a kind of mystery to me. Even after going there I was unable to determine its exact connection with <a href="http://marykunzgoldman.com/search?q=charles+burchfield" target="_blank">Charles Burchfield</a>. Did C.B. live there? Was it at least his property? I cannot figure that out and there was no one I could ask.<br /></p><p>However it was new to me and I enjoyed, even in what amounted to bitter cold, walking on the wooden pathways and standing at the edge of the rushing creek. </p><p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf8gDEBtH-khRMXvKRBx4dV-HbRNkjtnispMuDSV8x68vEXIe-R5bTRPrWOXcNoyJlfFlxI6ZF_WrMHX_rGPZZdhAXhCoMAwJvZwtjUPRA-4qhxp5Um3XbnrzdVe92r-IYSO0fgsF3zj6ItH5ALCNPK3pp-JscFHyX3RuUHdBz4ILXFPm7GMBZPVD1KA8/s4032/20240229_120438.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf8gDEBtH-khRMXvKRBx4dV-HbRNkjtnispMuDSV8x68vEXIe-R5bTRPrWOXcNoyJlfFlxI6ZF_WrMHX_rGPZZdhAXhCoMAwJvZwtjUPRA-4qhxp5Um3XbnrzdVe92r-IYSO0fgsF3zj6ItH5ALCNPK3pp-JscFHyX3RuUHdBz4ILXFPm7GMBZPVD1KA8/w400-h300/20240229_120438.jpg" width="400" /></a></div> <p></p><p>What creek is this? That is another question.</p><p>From time to time plaques showed you pictures of Burchfield's wacky nature paintings. They would tell you he liked painting poplar trees, things like that. </p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjnIcXDSE7FEIIrFjmhdw2gcRL_S8GIMjPMzW8aw5FRsEsxEDPjtWVasYWVy6LrrJY_nKk227D0JNlHQJEIDh6Nw8vxivUawKlCThzBBfmcEtsHGYciOSH_j14h4c13LCoBEbZzdibVH2qE_xqfRWJaHgcuINT72By9fSCBHo57zhyphenhyphenFghjway4OWP_W_g/s4032/20240229_114020.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjnIcXDSE7FEIIrFjmhdw2gcRL_S8GIMjPMzW8aw5FRsEsxEDPjtWVasYWVy6LrrJY_nKk227D0JNlHQJEIDh6Nw8vxivUawKlCThzBBfmcEtsHGYciOSH_j14h4c13LCoBEbZzdibVH2qE_xqfRWJaHgcuINT72By9fSCBHo57zhyphenhyphenFghjway4OWP_W_g/w400-h300/20240229_114020.jpg" width="400" /></a> </p><p>It left me wanting more information.</p><p>I wanted to know if it were these particular poplar trees he painted!</p><p>Did he paint this exact creek?</p><p>I am sentimental. I will have to look up these answers. One goofy thing about all this is I was friends with his daughter. My friend Michelle introduced me to Charles Burchfield's daughter Catherine Parker. Catherine was at my house several times. I was at her studio. I saw her at other friends' houses. Did I ever ask her one question about her dad? No!</p><p>Back then I knew nothing about Burchfield and I just was not curious. Which probably helped my friendship with her -- she must have gotten sick of people asking her about her famous father. But still.</p><p>Couldn't I at least have asked one question?</p><p>Back to yesterday. The Burchfield Nature Center itself, this sprawling wealthy-looking house, was closed. It was just me and the cold. I actually think this was a day Burchfield would have liked. I think he would have liked the color palette.</p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdc2PM9zQY27NNbAPUxdQzvRGAMjZOjDFBOn3hKDhlj8nNGualEGD-EKIFKQYluOX-6WyMUoEb87C35YP6WLXOCnmIJJM9JYOr687qHe-htHx81kkvdeyP-8muMTjXL5Nx0cgx-UhS9-8I7VuPOJrNJ2DoKhkyZ1hZ9JGme5ubZl-R4C0idgmiwJynV4Y/s4032/20240229_114515.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdc2PM9zQY27NNbAPUxdQzvRGAMjZOjDFBOn3hKDhlj8nNGualEGD-EKIFKQYluOX-6WyMUoEb87C35YP6WLXOCnmIJJM9JYOr687qHe-htHx81kkvdeyP-8muMTjXL5Nx0cgx-UhS9-8I7VuPOJrNJ2DoKhkyZ1hZ9JGme5ubZl-R4C0idgmiwJynV4Y/w400-h300/20240229_114515.jpg" width="400" /></a></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBZtyKKnepoTnyJVSyjDrDumxuLD8MhS6H8W3xg4N7OsMJq5vOh6emADPWDfAf3IQkbO7CtwBUwngk8FgH1VekDi0szr1q-Q-zwyNYw_wfJ5GAVHUoiwuP9MHyzx6M_rc_NhvrUiAUdRj1XvzONhjKC_K8DE7m75RbFmQx0nnUhErrfFon8nyzjWCtf8A/s4032/20240229_114520.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBZtyKKnepoTnyJVSyjDrDumxuLD8MhS6H8W3xg4N7OsMJq5vOh6emADPWDfAf3IQkbO7CtwBUwngk8FgH1VekDi0szr1q-Q-zwyNYw_wfJ5GAVHUoiwuP9MHyzx6M_rc_NhvrUiAUdRj1XvzONhjKC_K8DE7m75RbFmQx0nnUhErrfFon8nyzjWCtf8A/w400-h300/20240229_114520.jpg" width="400" /></a> </p><p>He loved this time of year, very early spring. He also loved the approach of winter. He liked the drama of our seasons here in Buffalo.</p><p>I walked around for about 45 minutes, thinking about things like this, and then I went on to Part Two of my Artist Date, which was to visit a nursery and treat myself to some plants. Gardenville was named for all its nurseries. </p><p>I thought I might buy one or two plants. Yeah right -- again.</p><p>I came home with about a dozen! Here is my cart at Rudolph's, on Clinton Street.<br /></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnThTl9uDJ5hpCYhfW27RyLsAAFO-6QHEM_tropLeb43S0XUzi6a_3cwh4eFuxtWfyVmqjngXrPTGhKzKNUjh2Dp7ruxCTSmP7XHBQYrYH5F56QYfQuAclbIFkwZYuUd9AiU_NwBYl6eeexwBMDa9kmmIe7JfPxCZE2V3QbfNKqChh9I9VxQhpoQCHTKM/s4032/20240229_124507.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnThTl9uDJ5hpCYhfW27RyLsAAFO-6QHEM_tropLeb43S0XUzi6a_3cwh4eFuxtWfyVmqjngXrPTGhKzKNUjh2Dp7ruxCTSmP7XHBQYrYH5F56QYfQuAclbIFkwZYuUd9AiU_NwBYl6eeexwBMDa9kmmIe7JfPxCZE2V3QbfNKqChh9I9VxQhpoQCHTKM/w400-h300/20240229_124507.jpg" width="400" /></a> </p><p>When I got them home I arranged my acquisitions in the sun room. And the flora, I now say, were the best part of the Artist's Date. Last night, as I was getting ready to go rehearse with <a href="http://marykunzgoldman.com/2024/01/singing-in-st-louis-choir.html" target="_blank">the St. Louis Choir</a>, I was sort of fretting about how the day had gone. I wasted too much time, I thought. I have a lot of work to do. That Artist's Date ate too much of my day. I should do them on Sundays. You are supposed to fritter away Sundays, not Thursdays.<br /></p><p>Then I looked up and saw all those flowers and ferns. And I thought, this is a day I will remember.</p><p>With pleasure.</p>Mary Kunz Goldmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02691118577179541037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011528072573771541.post-25362664615417291532024-02-29T16:14:00.004-05:002024-02-29T16:14:26.366-05:00My First "The Artist's Way" Artist Date<br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz48ozZLmWc16hi_ey-fvmEoR-HcgoklSiqWn1Z9jQg5yWzbJBO35NK84LvWrl5D8xLH6RKZ7DxoBBzf5quzlABXU1JY9d-5kkyw707g2ZXW5wk03bdyRyFt9osnKvPCue3IP_h8JTf_Djzx3OcrbvQVhWZIdlkOPBbyqP4i53bzYILu8hk476cHah-dc/s4032/20240224_130736.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz48ozZLmWc16hi_ey-fvmEoR-HcgoklSiqWn1Z9jQg5yWzbJBO35NK84LvWrl5D8xLH6RKZ7DxoBBzf5quzlABXU1JY9d-5kkyw707g2ZXW5wk03bdyRyFt9osnKvPCue3IP_h8JTf_Djzx3OcrbvQVhWZIdlkOPBbyqP4i53bzYILu8hk476cHah-dc/w400-h300/20240224_130736.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>Two weeks ago, I inherited a copy of "The Artist's Way," by Julia
Cameron. I found it at Amvets actually. It was in a heap of books that I
bought that day -- a bumper crop I will have to get to chronicling one
of these days soon.</p><p>"The Artist's Way" was originally published 25
years ago and is famous. When I mentioned it to my sister Katie, she
knew all about it. I had heard of the Morning Pages, which you learn
about first thing in the book. You are supposed to write three pages
every day as soon as you get up.</p><p>Which, I started doing that right
away. I looked into the book, thought it looked fascinating, and made
sure that Julia Cameron was not coming at things from any weird New Age
perspective. And so the very next morning, there I was, up early,
writing my Morning Pages. This morning I believe was Day 12. </p><p>You
can hear a lot about Morning Pages on YouTube. The next most-talked
about aspect of "The Artist's Way" appears to be the Artist's Date. You
are supposed to go out once a week by yourself to do something special
you enjoy. </p>I am into Chapter Two of the book now and I have done two Artist's Dates. <p>My first Artist's Date was Sunday after church, to Cazenovia Park in South Buffalo. I have not been there since I was 4 and lived around there and it is supposed to be a beautiful park and that was why it was on my radar. </p><p>It might not seem like a big deal, visiting a city park on the other side of town. I go for walks pretty much every day. Most of the time I go by myself. And I really do enjoy them.<br /></p><p>However you get your routine. There are a few routes I generally walk and I do not deviate from them much. To me this seems to be a big point about the Artist's Date -- it is supposed to change up your routine. You do something different.</p><p>You can easily start overthinking things, however I think I am on the right path with this. Because when I decided to go to Cazenovia Park, I could not believe the resistance I gave myself. There is something in you that does not like change.</p><p>What happened was, I was on my way to go on my usual walk, and I pulled over. I will map my way to Cazenovia Park, I thought. I will get on Google and have it direct me.</p><p>Then I raised a chorus of objections. "I'll get lost. I'll waste all kinds of time driving around. I won't get in my 10,000 steps. It's cold. Why don't I take my usual walk, and I'll go to Cazenovia Park after that..."</p><p>I pulled away without Googling. I drove another half a block. Then I pulled over again.</p><p>The same thing happened however this time I powered through. And yes, I did get lost, and yes, I spent 15 minutes or so driving around.</p><p>However I did get there, I got in my 10,000 steps, and I had a great time stepping outside my usual routine. I walked along Cazenovia Park in the freezing cold. I warmed up in the sun. It felt good to be looking at different things. I took the picture up above. Followed be others including these:<br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGQf6Wwv5aXXFUH6NOtFoup9q0X09JXUPRLNMDy5QF5EoOUGkWLcmy24HCQ-ee_iQi8wuOVoL05TBeNYoW5ZXtHeKZn6cE3b3uVXbTdU_yC9asIcg8rDWTL3YZrCyOpmI2pci65mBrhdAbbIDgukPcdQyLkMLknhHG0ecuKmY-pOQhCXN654Jdh_n0pfc/s4032/20240224_124334.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGQf6Wwv5aXXFUH6NOtFoup9q0X09JXUPRLNMDy5QF5EoOUGkWLcmy24HCQ-ee_iQi8wuOVoL05TBeNYoW5ZXtHeKZn6cE3b3uVXbTdU_yC9asIcg8rDWTL3YZrCyOpmI2pci65mBrhdAbbIDgukPcdQyLkMLknhHG0ecuKmY-pOQhCXN654Jdh_n0pfc/w400-h300/20240224_124334.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqte4V6zgBcMltpJwIQzyle27s6yFSTlUr6SiSfmvsbH5txefN5d9_0uHkk72cLnmfyzAEg91ill3EMMXRv5Buqqa3oT_9npX8eBu1MhU83MXUOEVbD0yMpdyrbfmAQrMfpE0_MtYuz1Yvp8T-civ8KFaf_GxSPXI2OMmUxkEYOsjxpTD2omCHHtQBLjU/s4032/20240224_124130.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqte4V6zgBcMltpJwIQzyle27s6yFSTlUr6SiSfmvsbH5txefN5d9_0uHkk72cLnmfyzAEg91ill3EMMXRv5Buqqa3oT_9npX8eBu1MhU83MXUOEVbD0yMpdyrbfmAQrMfpE0_MtYuz1Yvp8T-civ8KFaf_GxSPXI2OMmUxkEYOsjxpTD2omCHHtQBLjU/w400-h300/20240224_124130.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDlKxVB6xs5bJeRxAjzYa6NAGb210htIWkCTg1mVFgleeVm_vxtIws3jvOQeUcyLCQc8tDrcBtuppu-YxpK79Tu8OseyLPA8R-qOBpTY1POArM-dAuBlzY5qgOeepmmj3BqSlPelPsxRP5XURGVL16wdXoPxAtm1NQRTyrUlywS0TAd34PJN8UHV8Ffzc/s4032/20240224_122304.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDlKxVB6xs5bJeRxAjzYa6NAGb210htIWkCTg1mVFgleeVm_vxtIws3jvOQeUcyLCQc8tDrcBtuppu-YxpK79Tu8OseyLPA8R-qOBpTY1POArM-dAuBlzY5qgOeepmmj3BqSlPelPsxRP5XURGVL16wdXoPxAtm1NQRTyrUlywS0TAd34PJN8UHV8Ffzc/w400-h300/20240224_122304.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />Early -- very early spring -- I love it. I love the colors. I loved the blue sky.<br /><p></p><p>The adventure took me two or three hours and I was happy I did it. I do love walking around, thinking, and looking at things.</p><p>Which is also what I did this morning, on my second Artist's Date. I think Sunday is the best day for this kind of thing, however I am not sure I will be able to find the time this Sunday, and so I took the time slot I could get.</p><p>I will share the juicy details tomorrow! <br /></p><p><br /></p>Mary Kunz Goldmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02691118577179541037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011528072573771541.post-68117353906672646342024-02-14T22:58:00.003-05:002024-03-01T06:51:47.815-05:00A Medieval Ash Wednesday<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIZzmk2CiEiOSmqx5d9sp2dhzff7Pjz5qCOT8pUfyqNOWFHPeDOOeJHTWHu-ZMdXaY0ZJKRN9EJ94tmzDiaW1klKbgwcbMdz5jErWa4K3RIttrWwTBIWwQCEab7Goc2fqo8IOjxwPDMNw85g1PFw6K2IEthrVyokinJuvVdEqsZtNt5VczsSrUrOJqdyo/s940/ash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="653" data-original-width="940" height="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIZzmk2CiEiOSmqx5d9sp2dhzff7Pjz5qCOT8pUfyqNOWFHPeDOOeJHTWHu-ZMdXaY0ZJKRN9EJ94tmzDiaW1klKbgwcbMdz5jErWa4K3RIttrWwTBIWwQCEab7Goc2fqo8IOjxwPDMNw85g1PFw6K2IEthrVyokinJuvVdEqsZtNt5VczsSrUrOJqdyo/w400-h278/ash.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />Howard and I put off our Valentine's Day celebration until next week. And so today I turned my attention to Ash Wednesday. There was no getting out of it, you know? <br /><p></p><p>And already I can say: It is going to be one of those Lents.</p><p>Our 6 p.m. Ash Wednesday Mass was a Low Mass -- that is, long, silent, and mysterious to anyone who has not attended one before. A friend I have gotten to know at the St. Louis choir was thinking she might go to this Mass and so I made sure I was there. I had told her she could join us in the choir loft. Choir reciprocity! And if we sang a chant she knew, she could sing with us.</p><p>La la la la la la la.</p><p>What happened was, she did join us up in the choir loft. However. </p><p>She lasted 10 minutes!</p><p>OK, 20 minutes. Or a half an hour. However long it took for the ashes to be distributed. It is funny, I am accustomed to the Latin Mass. We do not have Eucharistic Ministers or any lay people who distribute the ashes. We have nothing like that. There is a priest -- sometimes two, however in this case we had one. And there is a crowd. The church was full today. It can take quite a while.</p><p>And I am kind of oblivious to it. It is like my sister Margie, living in New Jersey, has come to expect traffic jams. She visits Buffalo and hits a bit of a backup on the 190, no big deal for her. She just keeps talking, whatever. Whereas I, living in Buffalo, am all mad. What is this, I am saying. No one on the radio warned us about this. What is this backup?</p><p>A modern Mass goer is like me in this situation. What is this? Why is the line for ashes a mile long?</p><p>Why is the Mass two hours long?</p><p>It just not is something a normal person can deal with. OK, the Mass was not two hours long today. However if Jake, the choir leader, had not been sick, it would have been. Not that I would have noticed. You sing a lot through a normal Mass. It flies by like a freight train.</p><p>As it was today, we had a Low Mass and it was a little over an hour. However those ashes, they took a while.And it was too much for my St. Louis friend, I am afraid.</p><p>Here is a snapshot someone took of us finally receiving our ashes.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivE0zU5lB68oCDho0BOTQ8NTqY2ejfvPWckpHESEXidy9hosWK6pLqFuLWOxm6X2umtzJ5lwB7sGokh4yLpHHXJzADCd8fRnYzrGftZKWOLndXR1c88OIF1VMExQz5LbaF0FRWHqs6IFfDtTEWYn1KCvXxhfpVwZR1zoxWon4ve6bf-fDPyIU2p29CFDw/s500/ash%20wednesday%20drawing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="432" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivE0zU5lB68oCDho0BOTQ8NTqY2ejfvPWckpHESEXidy9hosWK6pLqFuLWOxm6X2umtzJ5lwB7sGokh4yLpHHXJzADCd8fRnYzrGftZKWOLndXR1c88OIF1VMExQz5LbaF0FRWHqs6IFfDtTEWYn1KCvXxhfpVwZR1zoxWon4ve6bf-fDPyIU2p29CFDw/w345-h400/ash%20wednesday%20drawing.jpg" width="345" /></a></div><br />After which she fled into the night. And I do not blame her. Heck, she must have been thinking. What have I gotten into?<p></p><p>Next time anyone mentions wanting to come to our Latin Mass I will know better.</p><p>Instead of being all welcoming, I am going to say, "You know what? Don't."</p><p>And if the person persists, I will say, "OK, but be warned, we are on 12th century time."</p><p><br /></p>Mary Kunz Goldmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02691118577179541037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011528072573771541.post-15020699724714413422024-02-11T18:31:00.006-05:002024-02-11T18:43:13.355-05:00Ash Wednesday Meets Valentine's Day<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoyqR8F0ZufOH8sE1hx8iwMcJa-pB1I90aNmYa-IoheiRelC1Old3to4I15aHS6n1kXZnGE6CVvZC0ETXHkyv8_u-7xzrMKPD49Oumr7vP4ArwyQobFYw-LzHdM5nx1Pb0axEKYmGF_0klx3y4K37WJQ5oV6wC0uqc2O8FsICSO5a9rl42mhP5nJYIl9A/s1190/valentines%20ashes.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1020" data-original-width="1190" height="171" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoyqR8F0ZufOH8sE1hx8iwMcJa-pB1I90aNmYa-IoheiRelC1Old3to4I15aHS6n1kXZnGE6CVvZC0ETXHkyv8_u-7xzrMKPD49Oumr7vP4ArwyQobFYw-LzHdM5nx1Pb0axEKYmGF_0klx3y4K37WJQ5oV6wC0uqc2O8FsICSO5a9rl42mhP5nJYIl9A/w200-h171/valentines%20ashes.png" width="200" /></a></div>This week brings what for me is the most dreaded day of the year. Ash Wednesday!<p></p><p>And it is this Wednesday. And it is on St. Valentine's Day.</p><p>This has happened before in recent memory, Ash Wednesday landing on the Feast of St. Valentine. It happened in 2018. I remember because I had to do a story on it for The Buffalo News.</p><p>Before that, it had not happened for 73 years! The year 1945 was the last time. If you were a kid then, you could live out your whole life happily without having to deal with this Ash Wednesday/Valentine's Day situation. Now here I am having to deal with it twice.<br /></p><p>What did I do in 2018? This is why everyone should keep a Web log. <a href="http://marykunzgoldman.com/2018/02/i-must-continue-this-web-log-because.html" target="_blank">It turns out that Howard and I celebrated the day afterward, on Thursday. </a> I had completely forgotten that!<br /></p><p>However now I went and<a href="http://marykunzgoldman.com/2024/01/singing-in-st-louis-choir.html" target="_blank"> joined the St. Louis choir</a> and I have a rehearsal on Thursday. So that will not work. Who knows. We will do something. Technically we could have that traditional lobster on Ash Wednesday. It is not meat. However... There just is that Ash Wednesday feeling. Perhaps we will celebrate a week later. </p><p>On the bright side, I am going to go sing at the Latin Mass. This is one plus anyway: I get to sing, and I do not know what it is these days, all I want to do is sing. I am singing in these two choirs every Sunday and that is not enough. I need holy days too!</p>Continuing to look on the bright side, Lent is early this year and that is a good thing. We can start the countdown to Easter early. Easter is the earliest I ever remember it being. March 31. Not even April!<p>In 2018, Easter was April 1. However this year is a leap year so it is a day earlier. Once we get into March Easter will seem near. Lent does not seem that long.</p><p>It is funny and interesting that this year, when Easter is early, we also appear to be having an early spring. El Nino brought a mild winter and aside from one nasty storm, we have had it easy. There are rumors I hear that we will be getting more snow, however I have been checking the forecasts and I do not see it.</p><p> As I love to remind myself, "Lent" means "Spring." It comes from "Lenz" in old German. </p><p>And this year I think we can take it literally.</p><br />Mary Kunz Goldmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02691118577179541037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011528072573771541.post-10412262909031948662024-01-28T17:08:00.001-05:002024-01-28T17:08:34.214-05:00Singing in the St. Louis Choir<br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIxrygPOSk5bZV_2j3EBDQxEmcDgwDi7ZShBOOnCBS0GI8Vo2_uC0__fuE9VfevQUsiZ6eGuZf6Y58FkBDFu9wd-3udqrahk-13u_65TDAY8S4yTQpgKqmhfW1NYKU1eLaQrGB9fPb8ETKH94oBhnjUDg9EmMKXIRvsVbNfE3GI0Ba_wynv7-bKcMy_N8/s1225/st.%20louis.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="919" data-original-width="1225" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIxrygPOSk5bZV_2j3EBDQxEmcDgwDi7ZShBOOnCBS0GI8Vo2_uC0__fuE9VfevQUsiZ6eGuZf6Y58FkBDFu9wd-3udqrahk-13u_65TDAY8S4yTQpgKqmhfW1NYKU1eLaQrGB9fPb8ETKH94oBhnjUDg9EmMKXIRvsVbNfE3GI0Ba_wynv7-bKcMy_N8/w400-h300/st.%20louis.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>Today I sang for the first time with the choir at St. Louis Church. </p>What an adventure!<p>I am not sure what gave me the idea to join this choir however it crossed my mind a couple of weeks ago, and I took action almost immediately. I sing at the Latin Mass at St. Anthony's just a few blocks away -- however I realized I could do St. Louis on top of that. The Latin Mass is at 9. The Mass at St. Louis is 11. Sometimes in life you can have your cake and eat it too! That is what I am doing.</p><p>The director, Frank Scinta, is famous in Buffalo. I mean he is the best. Over the years I have interviewed him here and there for The Buffalo News so I was no exactly a stranger. However it was totally different to be standing there singing for him, so he would know where to put me. We met up for that purpose a week or so ago.</p><p>"Sing something Christmas-y," he suggested. "Sing, 'O Come All Ye Faithful.':</p><p>"Can I sing it in Latin?" I said. I am so annoying! <br /></p><p>"Sing it in Swahili for all I care," he said.</p><p>So I sang my "Adeste Fideles" and then I sang something else, I forget what. End result as we say here in Buffalo, Maestro Scinta said I have a good alto voice. </p><p>Another thing I have going for me is, he said, I am docile.</p><p>"You are docile." In our feminist world, I do not think most ladies would be pleased to hear that. But I was, once I had three seconds to think about it. Pleased, I mean, to hear that. It means I take instruction, I listen, I don't fight. In other words, I'm not stupid. </p><p>What, I am going to go and sign up to sing with this great choir with this great choir director and fight everything they tell me? Yeah right. </p><p>Anyway. I was assigned my robe and my number, 44.The number was on the tag on the robe. I also got assigned a seat. They have assigned seats in the St. Louis choir!<br /></p><p></p><p>This morning there were a lot of moving parts, but I got through it. Everyone in this choir is extremely nice, just to make the picture that much more perfect, and they make things easy. I was there only 15 minutes ahead of show time because our Mass at St. Anthony's was an hour and a half. With the time being short I underestimated all the organizational things that needed to be done. First I had to find this insanely long spiral staircase to the choir loft -- oh good, it was where I was hoping it was. These 1880s churches, got to love them!Then I was scrambling to find my robe, get into it, and button it up. I had totally forgotten I had to put on this robe. Ha, ha! The choir was busy warming up singing something in Latin I did not recognize and for a second I just stood there smiling, it was all so new and interesting.<br /></p><p>My assigned seat was taken so two of the other altos invited me to sit with them, and being docile, I knew enough to do that. I settled in to this choir loft, thinking of all the people who had sung there before me. And I got to sing...</p><p><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/S6OgZCCoXWc?si=RMMsbll5UZQBmgB3" title="YouTube video player" width="400"></iframe></p><p>... and other great music too. I just mention the Bach because that weaving accompaniment melody always overwhelms me with its peace. It is like a reminder to stop and to breathe. Frank Scinta told us it was like a gigue, a dance of joy. I never thought of it like that but you know what, he might be right.</p><p>I'm looking forward to next Sunday.</p><p>We have liftoff!<br /></p><p><br /></p>Mary Kunz Goldmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02691118577179541037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011528072573771541.post-79641904516250893522024-01-23T00:33:00.003-05:002024-01-23T00:33:28.890-05:00The poems you know by heart<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDBimADSUTVdmIfqoa9QGvW3l08ILEkgaQW7KXbXiPNmIgTi_XF7x8o-MjHGJXXzxxtNLXA9E6l0-gpiuT8db0CU_n5xumOUT6qpJmsxUOJDl2IZ08vYkyFrX_xO6q_G26BpK23bmCq9e_e3TfnHGWMDosQtXB6a9DD-j7hyMKq0XGKX8pvDek28eE_Us/s4032/20240116_152233.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDBimADSUTVdmIfqoa9QGvW3l08ILEkgaQW7KXbXiPNmIgTi_XF7x8o-MjHGJXXzxxtNLXA9E6l0-gpiuT8db0CU_n5xumOUT6qpJmsxUOJDl2IZ08vYkyFrX_xO6q_G26BpK23bmCq9e_e3TfnHGWMDosQtXB6a9DD-j7hyMKq0XGKX8pvDek28eE_Us/w400-h300/20240116_152233.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /> Writing about the Lockport hike yesterday got me thinking about poems I know by heart.<p></p><p>I love that phrase "by heart." It implies that you know something because you love it. You love a poem and you read it a lot and you say it out loud to yourself and that is how you come to know it by heart.</p><p>I do not know all that many poems by heart. I intend to learn more! However I do know a few.</p><p>After yesterday I know Robert Frost's "Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening." I will practice it to make sure it stays in my head.</p><p>I was telling my friend Barbara yesterday that I know Yeats' "The Fiddler of Dooney." And I do! For a while at The Buffalo News I was working on a series called "100 Things Every Western New Yorker Should Do At Least Once." I took them very much to heart. There is that word "heart" again. I took them to heart and thought about them a lot while I was writing them. Which was smart to do. When you love something it stops being a chore.</p><p>Sometimes I memorized a poem, privately, to go with the assignment. That was why I learned "The Fiddler of Dooney." One of the 100 Things was Buffalo's St. Patrick's Day Parade. The Irish dancers' float is festooned with the line "And dance like a wave of the sea." That comes from "The Fiddler of Dooney."</p><i>WHEN I play on my fiddle in Dooney, <br /> Folk dance like a wave of the sea; <br /> My cousin is priest in Kilvarnet, <br /> My brother in Moharabuiee. <br /> <br /> I passed my brother and cousin: <br /> They read in their books of prayer; <br /> I read in my book of songs <br /> I bought at the Sligo fair. <br /> <br /> When we come at the end of time, <br /> To Peter sitting in state, <br /> He will smile on the three old spirits, <br /> But call me first through the gate; <br /> <br /> For the good are always the merry, <br /> Save by an evil chance, <br /> And the merry love the fiddle <br /> And the merry love to dance: <br /> <br /> And when the folk there spy me, <br /> They will all come up to me, <br /> With ‘Here is the fiddler of Dooney!’ <br /> And dance like a wave of the sea.</i><p>I need to learn to pronounce those Irish names in the first stanza -- otherwise I am good with this.</p><p>It is beautiful to recite a poem to yourself. I am a writer myself and it helps get the words of these great writers into my head. I think of Beethoven who copied out, by hand, an entire Mozart string quartet. Because it was in his heart and he wanted to get it into his head. He wanted it to be part of him.</p><p>So that is one poem I know by heart, "The Fiddler of Dooney." I also know "The Lake Isle of Innisfree," another poem we talked about yesterday as we walked the snowy trails. Barbara is part Irish and spent a year in Ireland, part of that time in Sligo. I wonder if she went to the Sligo fair! I will have to ask her.</p><p>There are other poems I know by heart, too.</p><p>I will have to get to them! <br /></p><p> <br /></p><p><br /></p>Mary Kunz Goldmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02691118577179541037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011528072573771541.post-18559490762452647802024-01-22T01:27:00.002-05:002024-01-23T00:17:13.346-05:00Hike No. 3: Lost in Lockport<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNbly-aK9fxRBun7qZzxZDaUr3F0lLT92MA5uUab5P1gfBqqmKJoKJ2BxBRgprCNl-3V_J07LNpbCV4yS0AoUmwAsTlU0SUm9zgfehOVdi1oVUH2lzL2Ah2ITvTSvNSKwgUR8BWUCf4hOrQgFKE2Td4LoREXlC9U8DGUnIu6Q4tO1Q3fMdt_wR7DvN4E4/s4032/20240120_134533.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNbly-aK9fxRBun7qZzxZDaUr3F0lLT92MA5uUab5P1gfBqqmKJoKJ2BxBRgprCNl-3V_J07LNpbCV4yS0AoUmwAsTlU0SUm9zgfehOVdi1oVUH2lzL2Ah2ITvTSvNSKwgUR8BWUCf4hOrQgFKE2Td4LoREXlC9U8DGUnIu6Q4tO1Q3fMdt_wR7DvN4E4/w400-h300/20240120_134533.jpg" width="400" /></a></div> <p></p><p>Another weekend, another hike! Well, we missed one weekend because of snow. However now we are back in the saddle.</p><p>I am talking about the Western New York Winter Hiking Challenge which I have foolishly undertaken with my friend Barbara. This time we attempted the Lockport Nature Trails. Her sister Laura went with us. That is Laura with the sign in the pic up above!<br /></p><p>The map on the sign looks simple. It is not. I said to Barbara, every time we do this I sit down beforehand to study the map we are given, and I research the park. I watch videos on it. I read up on it online. And every week, I cannot believe how little use all this preparation is.</p><p>We get lost, immediately!</p><p>The Lockport Nature Trails looked easy. The hike route went in a loop. I printed it out beforehand, took a yellow highlighter, and went over it. A simple loop. There was a Kiosk on the map and I marked that. Not that I expected the Kiosk to have any facilities, or any hot cider, or anything you would think a Kiosk might have. Parks in the Buffalo area love to leave you helpless. However it was a landmark. Speaking of landmarks, the one we were looking for, the one we were supposed to take a selfie with, was an Oak Tree. I marked that also.</p><p>Two other oak trees were marked on the map and I made note of that.</p><p>What could possibly go wrong? Easy as pie.</p><p>Ha.</p><p>As soon as we walked into the snowy park, one trail kind of blurred in with another. </p><p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg2cK-e4EwNXVn6J2V74tL-yBwzTIymlDNMiOgexFyd_gYlXIlIVFNkglpqc9ftwzr1lcNemWr7LwE4-gPJKFIVt2OSHJ-0U3oFLmfIGun1GBCLYlnEQKlveEIx4UrcMpAoyP_hLvZX6HbG3zk6e2t4LtTMmhhyHoLkItQlOnDvTQJLwfTFwXZUSud7iM/s4032/20240120_132314.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg2cK-e4EwNXVn6J2V74tL-yBwzTIymlDNMiOgexFyd_gYlXIlIVFNkglpqc9ftwzr1lcNemWr7LwE4-gPJKFIVt2OSHJ-0U3oFLmfIGun1GBCLYlnEQKlveEIx4UrcMpAoyP_hLvZX6HbG3zk6e2t4LtTMmhhyHoLkItQlOnDvTQJLwfTFwXZUSud7iM/w400-h300/20240120_132314.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQi_lFtWTVsi8ufdGsK_mBjNMOS3obVaZ-tUS_DMSYofsRGaE_58fwEY-ScrWfr-XdhtPFjYDgQfxFksyjTOERdnbefHuA_6w8lDsNi085xhSDPITZDnilimMBWG1Js09sdC9hvm05pAviAYmkiTl4zSV_80KuL1f5PuUfcSexLJuDEV9o4tba-ekpbc8/s4032/20240120_132754.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQi_lFtWTVsi8ufdGsK_mBjNMOS3obVaZ-tUS_DMSYofsRGaE_58fwEY-ScrWfr-XdhtPFjYDgQfxFksyjTOERdnbefHuA_6w8lDsNi085xhSDPITZDnilimMBWG1Js09sdC9hvm05pAviAYmkiTl4zSV_80KuL1f5PuUfcSexLJuDEV9o4tba-ekpbc8/w400-h300/20240120_132754.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>I mean, I ask you. Nothing was marked. Well, Laura noticed there were signs on trees. However the signs were faded and all looked alike. It was like Hansel and Gretel without the bread crumbs.</p><p>Luckily Laura kept her cool. She is a photo editor and not only did she notice the signs on the trees, but she noticed the Oak Tree when, after much travail, we reached it.</p><p>I had expected the Oak would stand out. However Laura pointed to a tree among many trees and said that could be it.</p><p>"That's not an oak tree," I said confidently. The oak trees I know all have big wide trunks and spread-out branches. Like the Mighty Oak in the Meadow in Delaware Park. Or the Sacred Oak that St. Boniface cut down when he converted the German people to the Christian faith. <br /></p><p>Shows how much I know. This ended up indeed being the oak. St. Boniface would not have bothered with this oak, I will tell you that right now. Still I had to acknowledge it as the landmark we were looking for. And I ate crow. I also ate more crow a while later when I failed to recognize a view we had just seen 15 minutes before, and almost cost us God knows how many extra steps. I had completely lost my sense of direction!<br /></p><p>However I ate crow happily. We had reached the oak tree. I had my selfie! Here I am with the unprepossessing oak tree.<br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia9HAMlCAMkUkRTiCYiSNja-bc7tmRf56W9T9XDphcZ9of89rsv6SeeC71ut0OxN5i8LWm9AYwMFYbEtXtML5163e0QgsiMOfbkFGTcEMQ201F10oQrx7yACbyJzMjG9UC88IQZZn-NTw97gr9n30gaKMSCTbFm_8m16F6kAnyN9wAybT0wzPk1sWwqRk/s2640/20240120_132214.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1980" data-original-width="2640" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia9HAMlCAMkUkRTiCYiSNja-bc7tmRf56W9T9XDphcZ9of89rsv6SeeC71ut0OxN5i8LWm9AYwMFYbEtXtML5163e0QgsiMOfbkFGTcEMQ201F10oQrx7yACbyJzMjG9UC88IQZZn-NTw97gr9n30gaKMSCTbFm_8m16F6kAnyN9wAybT0wzPk1sWwqRk/w400-h300/20240120_132214.jpg" width="400" /></a></div> <p></p><p>We never did find the Kiosk.</p><p>The views, I have to say, were beautiful. And I enjoyed the day. Hiking is fun. As was walking with two people I do not know all that well. We talk about this and that. Taking a walk is like doing a jigsaw puzzle in that the conversation just goes this way and that way.</p><p>One thing we got onto was poetry. Barbara and I began fitting together Robert Frost's "Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening." Once we figured it all out we recited it .. and those last lines: "And miles to go before I sleep / And miles to go before I sleep" -- never sounded lovelier than in this park, on this trail. God knows where we were, however it must have looked something like what Robert Frost had in mind.<br /></p><p>I hope kids still have to read this poem in school, you know? What beautiful writing.</p><p>The park even included a half-frozen waterfall. I was trying to take pictures but my hands got too cold. So you will have to settle for this. I think this is another picture of the oak.<br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD0Y5CB_Jc58pWMA9gJv72q4cTg9S-6yNC1shzGwFplmKpt_DBqzcGUZ2Gn0zmdVRPcfC_t9bMJxPRJJNdFQFcnMnm8mIfCtnX2waf0BLf8okikIHNAOCHgr7wl_JLsIcrPoMu_W0MUeBrdNZE7oSh7ayoTLDwoJQNQjRFYVMWCZgC-TTVPwV0h7ni5L8/s4032/20240120_132221.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD0Y5CB_Jc58pWMA9gJv72q4cTg9S-6yNC1shzGwFplmKpt_DBqzcGUZ2Gn0zmdVRPcfC_t9bMJxPRJJNdFQFcnMnm8mIfCtnX2waf0BLf8okikIHNAOCHgr7wl_JLsIcrPoMu_W0MUeBrdNZE7oSh7ayoTLDwoJQNQjRFYVMWCZgC-TTVPwV0h7ni5L8/w400-h300/20240120_132221.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p>The Lockport Nature Trails.</p><p>We came, we saw, we conquered!<br /></p><p><br /></p>Mary Kunz Goldmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02691118577179541037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011528072573771541.post-28729563942737048492024-01-06T23:27:00.003-05:002024-01-08T17:45:27.529-05:00Adventure at Bond Lake <p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGPQNOsbXKAhXEPE9uCTtRh6HyqyE9zhxCHfhM6L2ii0G_kVMtYbRdanv4IDSsf23-fD8PsDx9Op0ZH7aJ-UlBtD_ZUkYE5O2oJPsPmEUi4a_R3BcZBsjZt9TQ1tKZPucyjyQJp3HjMBDvORUjL1m8Pdxy_J1JbVObM83GAmayFEmJXSqVA1_Cbnob8ZQ/s1421/warming.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1066" data-original-width="1421" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGPQNOsbXKAhXEPE9uCTtRh6HyqyE9zhxCHfhM6L2ii0G_kVMtYbRdanv4IDSsf23-fD8PsDx9Op0ZH7aJ-UlBtD_ZUkYE5O2oJPsPmEUi4a_R3BcZBsjZt9TQ1tKZPucyjyQJp3HjMBDvORUjL1m8Pdxy_J1JbVObM83GAmayFEmJXSqVA1_Cbnob8ZQ/w400-h300/warming.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />My friend Barbara and I rose to another hiking challenge today.<p></p><p>We were Bond Girls! We went to Bond Lake Park. <br /></p><p>That is it up above. Well, that is not Bond Lake. That is just a big puddle. However it was all new to us! I had never been there before and neither had Barbara. Heck, neither of us had ever heard of it. </p><p>Getting ready was like getting ready for a trip to the moon. The WNY Hiking site has a huge list of things you should bring and it can make me anxious. I mean, I am just going to Niagara County, a half an hour away, and yet suddenly I feel like Ponce de Leon. <br /></p><p>My car must have internalized my stress. Half way there, I heard a "ping" and the dashboard flashed at me: "Tire Pressure Low." What to do? I texted Howard. Howard said to look at all the tires and see if one looked flat. I thought one of them sort of did -- </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2IClgP-3EZ-45cIu7n3YjPDbK7zHtYOmCxG36E8cfBIsWL6kBvO78XBKL7L2tK-W6gqZy2tI7rS6CT3UaLiJkQNYC0Wwa6U79fjhk780kt7XUfFL1fDrh-zg4OUoyGGcDfhXalppoYKecDU12b95tLjE5Qs42A2DpcYCDB6ollFjIECShZEDMBUkGehE/s4032/20240106_102127.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2IClgP-3EZ-45cIu7n3YjPDbK7zHtYOmCxG36E8cfBIsWL6kBvO78XBKL7L2tK-W6gqZy2tI7rS6CT3UaLiJkQNYC0Wwa6U79fjhk780kt7XUfFL1fDrh-zg4OUoyGGcDfhXalppoYKecDU12b95tLjE5Qs42A2DpcYCDB6ollFjIECShZEDMBUkGehE/s320/20240106_102127.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>... however then the others looked flat, too. The power of suggestion is strong!<br /></p><p>Howard said it might be the cold. He said I could proceed. I was happy to hear that. I was really excited about this hike. I had new hiking boots. <a href="http://marykunzgoldman.com/2023/12/rising-to-wny-hiking-challenge.html">No more sneakers for me</a>, no sirree. And I had packed cheese as a snack that I thought we could eat afterwards at the Warming Center. Yes, Bond Lake Park has a Warming Center! You picture a hut where they say, "Ladies, come in from the cold," and offer you hot cider. <br /></p><p>When I arrived at the park, there was no mistaking it. A big sign identified the park. And there, sure enough, was the Warming Center. It was not the bucolic hut we had imagined. But it was there! That is it at the top of this post.<br /></p><p>However the Warming Center gave us the cold shoulder. Note the rude sign. No apologies, nothing!<br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDCn6XWwSe4khfsENiI3YF4jQNBWl7tO9aDvzBIjXA4SIecAFc_3utYXRSwaWOa2BxAafuvzxoQx8HfPogGcBb3mVT9QN6I5E2WscDvOSZ-23ASRQZEIk72-tHyn_FO29TaOZdpKke01seaZAiI-zwVkf0OGHbR6-dP1DbqM8Ni7z2_Biy0usilrmBRRI/s301/bossy%201.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="226" data-original-width="301" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDCn6XWwSe4khfsENiI3YF4jQNBWl7tO9aDvzBIjXA4SIecAFc_3utYXRSwaWOa2BxAafuvzxoQx8HfPogGcBb3mVT9QN6I5E2WscDvOSZ-23ASRQZEIk72-tHyn_FO29TaOZdpKke01seaZAiI-zwVkf0OGHbR6-dP1DbqM8Ni7z2_Biy0usilrmBRRI/w400-h300/bossy%201.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>Bossy Bond! That was the name we came up with for this park. It was full of bossy signs!</p><p></p><p>What worried me about the Warming Center was that now there were no facilities.There were restrooms on the side of the building however they were locked. What if you needed to answer nature's call? That is what I would like to know.<br /></p><p>The Buffalo area is hilarious for this. Notices are everywhere telling you to get out and exercise in the snow, enjoy the winter, and above all to hydrate, hydrate, hydrate. Yet no facilities, anywhere. It is like the old Soviet Union, zut alors and fie.<br /></p><p>Still our day was full of fun and laughs.<br /></p><p>The hike was only three miles or so but Barbara and I are always getting lost so we must have added another mile or so. We did that at Tifft too. It is our trademark!</p><p>This time we set a new record. Map in hand, we crossed Lower Mountain Road in front of the Warming Center, set out on the path, and got lost within two minutes. While we were still in sight of the road!</p><p>However eventually we found our way to the lake, which I assumed was Bond Lake. The lake was on the map, and the trail was marked along side it, so we figured as long as we were walking around that lake, we were OK. Which we were. We kept running into other hikers also on the challenge and they would reassure us.</p><p></p><p>We found time to admire the scenery!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWnrrmJbe1ht36xiPYudttqgnWD06FVe95rItoYdtFFEUreablWvqj6nt3h732QNVfrE3iq6g1FmydXccllCacainlSmYsK98xogj5Aty7mpRhyphenhyphenGvYsYIyunoTvyWhr7DqxZuWtDFUUSDTsPj7aTAQNrXEHQu31rqhrrH7p65R53ApStE_Jt67psjn15c/s1421/bond%20lake%20cattails.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1066" data-original-width="1421" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWnrrmJbe1ht36xiPYudttqgnWD06FVe95rItoYdtFFEUreablWvqj6nt3h732QNVfrE3iq6g1FmydXccllCacainlSmYsK98xogj5Aty7mpRhyphenhyphenGvYsYIyunoTvyWhr7DqxZuWtDFUUSDTsPj7aTAQNrXEHQu31rqhrrH7p65R53ApStE_Jt67psjn15c/w400-h300/bond%20lake%20cattails.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeh7s_xIA0dL79x260vyuV5QUr1B4AuYOvwIZ_g8vxEfKuQV3iYGl1PJQXtSoWRjddxkXllSwrJpa1IXBY6BM0yU6h0KG1LUStMBFONjLfgTnbr3WT-4jWnXn2_urLmm7fDCF0ST21-sQJSi3dlQZjIs8O8VnpVbqBK1igolDW2d1INt6RLgdjPH3Run4/s301/bond%20lake.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="226" data-original-width="301" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeh7s_xIA0dL79x260vyuV5QUr1B4AuYOvwIZ_g8vxEfKuQV3iYGl1PJQXtSoWRjddxkXllSwrJpa1IXBY6BM0yU6h0KG1LUStMBFONjLfgTnbr3WT-4jWnXn2_urLmm7fDCF0ST21-sQJSi3dlQZjIs8O8VnpVbqBK1igolDW2d1INt6RLgdjPH3Run4/w400-h300/bond%20lake.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwmYb0DDu_poMQhLLmI6KIWifc_s0q5r1h9hadzyttR4CvIqd54vjrgmPThY099abNhlg4Fy11JxFopfLSzpLT3zSjJnBpLsRpv5ORXatAzRh002JyDSroYFwogH4r_zjxlWptujN8rKNkvqydju3w0tOItGoPKqAYrEbe8PVGoJqtSMxN8GWd7qtZQI8/s1421/trees%20at%20bond%20lake.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1066" data-original-width="1421" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwmYb0DDu_poMQhLLmI6KIWifc_s0q5r1h9hadzyttR4CvIqd54vjrgmPThY099abNhlg4Fy11JxFopfLSzpLT3zSjJnBpLsRpv5ORXatAzRh002JyDSroYFwogH4r_zjxlWptujN8rKNkvqydju3w0tOItGoPKqAYrEbe8PVGoJqtSMxN8GWd7qtZQI8/w400-h300/trees%20at%20bond%20lake.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWk-JNpG_Wlmx2C2K_MKnKLPuuFWjFeSzLUDGqe7HSFIlEwYuERV9z-eXtSRABCx7nf_mJ1dRGPUzZyIcUfz3cwiYacRPR_T2nKZkXWX9wosiTEFHA2H9Q4_RP0f_lM9QFq-eWi7qdA1Gu4c4JHzY8V_9Bb1sQf0FHouKqs0c630bsdfilMpgv3sbKU6A/s1421/lake%20unsafe%20keep%20out.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1066" data-original-width="1421" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWk-JNpG_Wlmx2C2K_MKnKLPuuFWjFeSzLUDGqe7HSFIlEwYuERV9z-eXtSRABCx7nf_mJ1dRGPUzZyIcUfz3cwiYacRPR_T2nKZkXWX9wosiTEFHA2H9Q4_RP0f_lM9QFq-eWi7qdA1Gu4c4JHzY8V_9Bb1sQf0FHouKqs0c630bsdfilMpgv3sbKU6A/w400-h300/lake%20unsafe%20keep%20out.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p>That last masterful photo is important because if you look closely you can see the sign saying, "Lake Unsafe. KEEP OUT!" I told you Bond was bossy! There were other bossy signs too. Lots of them! However my fingers were too cold to remove from my mittens to take pictures.<br /></p><p>Each hike has an item you have to photograph yourself with and in this case it was "Distinctive Tree." According to the map it was right past a Scenic Overlook. </p><p>Sure enough, first came the Overlook...</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-z3R08z-E3W8LzjYtk1mbFaJ5K-IE4lP3k4vSY9fImY0eLuit-HGJI5G1yVUAAvrKWuyq7naQANNkp5D_6EEgMo2uGnMzh8qUVnw1VBqew72ZDQOmxfjL4um3DLBnJhF_rh4RUC05c1sLy4-yQ7Y1aWtwkeU9H61_oPDOiJsNX2LfPvdxBQUIItJRUZ0/s1421/overlook.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1066" data-original-width="1421" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-z3R08z-E3W8LzjYtk1mbFaJ5K-IE4lP3k4vSY9fImY0eLuit-HGJI5G1yVUAAvrKWuyq7naQANNkp5D_6EEgMo2uGnMzh8qUVnw1VBqew72ZDQOmxfjL4um3DLBnJhF_rh4RUC05c1sLy4-yQ7Y1aWtwkeU9H61_oPDOiJsNX2LfPvdxBQUIItJRUZ0/w400-h300/overlook.jpg" width="400" /></a></div> <p></p><p>... and then came the Distinctive Tree.</p><p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnRteMZ3lGTTfO9yPGb2xUnJLRS-XJVOTd6kcYr1erFOezBujXJdbWecUg8MtTfnKsGDwwm3vnB_JbjugApSDYfH4dED5VbR8K0P0L6dE95UkOmQqGXVf_4pxazKLMjOA8mzjE22geDIrd4WDHXSo3pC9wkeipKGCVuwIJlxROMYuieO2yO-Lr2bIqmPY/s1421/me%20and%20tree.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1066" data-original-width="1421" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnRteMZ3lGTTfO9yPGb2xUnJLRS-XJVOTd6kcYr1erFOezBujXJdbWecUg8MtTfnKsGDwwm3vnB_JbjugApSDYfH4dED5VbR8K0P0L6dE95UkOmQqGXVf_4pxazKLMjOA8mzjE22geDIrd4WDHXSo3pC9wkeipKGCVuwIJlxROMYuieO2yO-Lr2bIqmPY/s320/me%20and%20tree.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>Ha, ha! Barbara is privy to the art of taking a good selfie however I am not. </p><p>The tree was naturally photogenic. As Barbara and I agreed, it was a real Brothers Grimm tree. I saw other trees as well with that shape, off to the side and not as impressive, however still picturesque. They must all be the same kind of tree. I will have to come back in the summer when I can move my fingers and use my Seek app.<br /></p><p>After taking our selfies with the tree, we got lost again and finally decided just to return to the chilly Warming Center and call it a day. Maybe that was just as well. Other hikers had warned us anyway that the final leg was a mess, that the trails were not labeled properly. Who needs that? Not us, was our conclusion. Besides which we had just gotten in a couple thousand extra steps because of getting lost. </p><p>So, an exciting day, and a successful one. <br /></p><p>We did it!</p><p> <br /></p>Mary Kunz Goldmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02691118577179541037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011528072573771541.post-28771939713537172192024-01-01T18:00:00.006-05:002024-01-01T18:00:56.212-05:00In With the New<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi37i89KzPTVDtjoTcijgobs2xUxedrQY_OXt1EkJAdQSiMaaHLEZ0_VU7KyxffZPlExwTzti-27B6MBkimmgvJKDgrnWwn4dnA-qyLzbw96r3npxV8BQ8pp6D3JjZDcIlhCCGYwYfowGIoNLKxiS1fGN6rZD2v2PXpiC2TtZRlOX0bdVl_UfNGBnn_NPU/s1421/Christmas%20tree%207%20ft.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1066" data-original-width="1421" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi37i89KzPTVDtjoTcijgobs2xUxedrQY_OXt1EkJAdQSiMaaHLEZ0_VU7KyxffZPlExwTzti-27B6MBkimmgvJKDgrnWwn4dnA-qyLzbw96r3npxV8BQ8pp6D3JjZDcIlhCCGYwYfowGIoNLKxiS1fGN6rZD2v2PXpiC2TtZRlOX0bdVl_UfNGBnn_NPU/w400-h300/Christmas%20tree%207%20ft.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />Like the Roman god Janus who faces backward and forward, I like looking back on the year behind me. I like to think of highlights. <p></p><p>That hike yesterday was one of them! It got in under the wire. </p><p>Another highlight was a dinner last week with old friends, including one friend I had not seen in decades. So that makes two last-minute highlights.</p><p></p><p>And another late-breaking highlight: I got my first real Christmas tree in years. It is seven feet tall. That is it above!</p><p>My friend Cori helped me. We went to Home Depot and I know, we always want to go to cute little local places, however there is something to be said for simplicity. Home Depot goes and feeds your tree into a machine to bag it up and from there it goes into your car in a snap, no muss, no fuss. Well, I do not think I could have done it without Cori. But still.</p><p>Here is my tree being processed. This was on Dec. 10. My friend Cori is looking on critically making sure all the i's are dotted and t's are crossed. Cori is thorough. She is first generation German, mother from the Black Forest, father from Berlin. Nothing escapes her.<br /></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn7oKIdO2nuh22V_X5QwoSgVISG_Dsu-mNbZF2qwPhOm0Ixrhn0WsxNLHOpu11qON4kciO_OT31CAIQBkGkm804z4T7HD_WOaxx35Oob36j1MHjh0m7KS8EQ9MJlOD7RJdLOXCVA3Lm3haXrV4_htOGs0Ji2BLj1A5nNX-7_wuD8_7qeHrNpoRkIfcnt8/s1421/home%20depot%202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1066" data-original-width="1421" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn7oKIdO2nuh22V_X5QwoSgVISG_Dsu-mNbZF2qwPhOm0Ixrhn0WsxNLHOpu11qON4kciO_OT31CAIQBkGkm804z4T7HD_WOaxx35Oob36j1MHjh0m7KS8EQ9MJlOD7RJdLOXCVA3Lm3haXrV4_htOGs0Ji2BLj1A5nNX-7_wuD8_7qeHrNpoRkIfcnt8/w400-h300/home%20depot%202.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />Cori also helped me to put twinkly lights up in the sunroom which are more prepossessing than the old redneck lights I had before.<p></p><p>Another highlight of the year has been Howard playing at the Hyatt every Friday. This continues from last year and continues this year as well. What reminded me was the Hyatt also upped its Christmas tree game this year. They have a tree that is world class. Pictures do not do it justice however this is my attempt.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0ClFvnvThRhrl4drILE9Vi10Om1_aiLpAiZZdhcql-JWhYo-2C_C9oKXl8joP-XgXdiqz1jDOcUjMrNuGkZ4ZlsbexYPXqg82RWmasqdDftbXsda7_TfMGZjXoZtu41cxCj2tsL4xFD8e_5_ygeHEw9EpeE3h5q7c-VaeDb-wxMYQ6sOViCmHspIpCdA/s1421/hyatt%20tree.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1066" data-original-width="1421" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0ClFvnvThRhrl4drILE9Vi10Om1_aiLpAiZZdhcql-JWhYo-2C_C9oKXl8joP-XgXdiqz1jDOcUjMrNuGkZ4ZlsbexYPXqg82RWmasqdDftbXsda7_TfMGZjXoZtu41cxCj2tsL4xFD8e_5_ygeHEw9EpeE3h5q7c-VaeDb-wxMYQ6sOViCmHspIpCdA/w400-h300/hyatt%20tree.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p>Look at this. Here I was supposed to be remembering the highlights of my year and all I wind remembering are the highlights of the Christmas season. So far. </p><p>It is not over yet!</p><p><br /></p>Mary Kunz Goldmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02691118577179541037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011528072573771541.post-75391606365678782912023-12-31T16:33:00.004-05:002023-12-31T16:44:41.146-05:00Rising to the WNY Hiking Challenge<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg44Zjsjpr9H_t7dPRX0TApecgXHKo5-uFELN3E-yfldvvBNlcXoyqYZWHi1Xr5lZlP_8VuJuTuFoj9zP0MagTXx1Kvw_SPFm-wNqnb7E7kCXd1qLoX6JKxJ75EVt3k8YXlMLYECUAJhPCAFoAf-SvcqQ589oUDupaA3RioGXsiAL3j7Z1FCzd4VjVIh4k/s1225/tifft%20mounds.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="919" data-original-width="1225" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg44Zjsjpr9H_t7dPRX0TApecgXHKo5-uFELN3E-yfldvvBNlcXoyqYZWHi1Xr5lZlP_8VuJuTuFoj9zP0MagTXx1Kvw_SPFm-wNqnb7E7kCXd1qLoX6JKxJ75EVt3k8YXlMLYECUAJhPCAFoAf-SvcqQ589oUDupaA3RioGXsiAL3j7Z1FCzd4VjVIh4k/w400-h300/tifft%20mounds.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />There is a <a href="https://outsidechronicles.com/wintrails/" target="_blank">Western New York hiking challenge</a> afoot in Buffalo -- afoot, get it? And my friend Barbara and I rose to it.<p></p><p>Today we went on our first hike, at Tifft Nature Preserve!</p><p>Barbara and I are new friends in the grand scheme of things. However we have certain things in common, one of which was, both of us wore sneakers today on our hike. Sneakers! Her friends are laughing at her right now on her Facebook page.</p><p>We are having one of those mild winters we get from time to time, and Tifft's trails are awash in mud. We were like princesses trying to pick our way around this mud, treading on grasses and these tall cattails which<a href="http://marykunzgoldman.com/search?q=seek+app" target="_blank"> thanks to my Seek app</a> I now know to be the Common Reed.</p><p>So illogically wearing sneakers was one thing. Another was our shared preoccupation with the Wyeth art family. The conversation was always turning to Andrew Wyeth, Jamie Wyeth and the great, the one and only N.C. Wyeth.</p><p>Andrew Wyeth would have loved this landscape!</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0HonFMu0SY53Y1j7nVGIyHHKdClxRiQTvxBq-xa3czsEV-24nOYFpxJ2YrhrMSoY7aiuX52rFqAj6x124es6fe4gTRodMi4i2oa11KYKn8Sg9sUxy3GcBX1fBH0TBgTXc7gkINJnTzRQT57BO4_BR8yLKlpGVttLAf5erhcGqET3pSi0j9s4xvjoKv6Q/s318/wyeth%20landscape.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="238" data-original-width="318" height="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0HonFMu0SY53Y1j7nVGIyHHKdClxRiQTvxBq-xa3czsEV-24nOYFpxJ2YrhrMSoY7aiuX52rFqAj6x124es6fe4gTRodMi4i2oa11KYKn8Sg9sUxy3GcBX1fBH0TBgTXc7gkINJnTzRQT57BO4_BR8yLKlpGVttLAf5erhcGqET3pSi0j9s4xvjoKv6Q/w400-h299/wyeth%20landscape.jpg" width="400" /></a></div> <p></p><p>Or better still this one.</p><p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOnqRNlJ93lYgIGDFcyYAZnzhrGxwGDgCRG0mxUjxu4pduJ1F94Rn-AxGDNbRD2yRGpxUX2P4PEgCWphP-C-_DDOf7_bAgJEfcUFxT4AINZZhCltCkE4B7W-FZkVaTihXWo5GjYkxD-VNmWZS3T88HQM1HYHxuXXuFUdbcuBEAnVAOfeFQ6BldiLxKpw8/s318/wyeth%202.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="238" data-original-width="318" height="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOnqRNlJ93lYgIGDFcyYAZnzhrGxwGDgCRG0mxUjxu4pduJ1F94Rn-AxGDNbRD2yRGpxUX2P4PEgCWphP-C-_DDOf7_bAgJEfcUFxT4AINZZhCltCkE4B7W-FZkVaTihXWo5GjYkxD-VNmWZS3T88HQM1HYHxuXXuFUdbcuBEAnVAOfeFQ6BldiLxKpw8/w400-h299/wyeth%202.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>Slogging through the mud in our sodden sneakers, we paused to contemplate that.<br /></p><p>Funny, we thought it would be easy. We went in laughing, la la la la la la. I mentioned the sneakers. Did I also mention I was coming directly from church? And so I was also in a dress and carrying a purse. </p><p></p><p>Every hike in this challenge has a landmark, something you have to find and take a selfie with. We found the landmark easily, although it did take some muddy walking to get there. The landmark was called the Peninsula. Here I am at it.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZML5KeoW9I80ey7yw9SOq9E-adVFEP0946WDT40fJ_tFtpa5Fa9N5qkb_X4NAjs7KJdQJ9ZVZ1DEA7GidObZ6iIq6ytYJ7jZ3778L9rG4JnfW60D71OCe8n5_TGZyR4wiLTmXNlJUAtM2l-Q5Iao1aJ4HK1iuuoQioYRtQ7jZex6mCP1ebjFHNPugeT8/s1225/me%20at%20tifft.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="919" data-original-width="1225" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZML5KeoW9I80ey7yw9SOq9E-adVFEP0946WDT40fJ_tFtpa5Fa9N5qkb_X4NAjs7KJdQJ9ZVZ1DEA7GidObZ6iIq6ytYJ7jZ3778L9rG4JnfW60D71OCe8n5_TGZyR4wiLTmXNlJUAtM2l-Q5Iao1aJ4HK1iuuoQioYRtQ7jZex6mCP1ebjFHNPugeT8/w400-h300/me%20at%20tifft.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p>We did not know at that point that our adventure was just beginning! </p><p>We saw trees that reminded us of the Brothers Grimm. N.C. Wyeth would have liked these trees! They would have fit in well with some of his illustrations.<br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSI7PG_HUBDbwOTlEHCvYj5VytR8HSQYzVZRXey9UQGeWJVZwLftiiNdU1vjWmNGsBcUEkeyKuOSTM8Ao1FRNSiVTx6jgz15Hh9_SgUUnoJmDNE_COrZhSk4-z8dNk4hzq4g3TSTjGwBAyJbpxkAUfB2KcygUZWYf4rh-JywylTS1lXjpKrnPLqgt3EzQ/s4032/20231231_112103.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSI7PG_HUBDbwOTlEHCvYj5VytR8HSQYzVZRXey9UQGeWJVZwLftiiNdU1vjWmNGsBcUEkeyKuOSTM8Ao1FRNSiVTx6jgz15Hh9_SgUUnoJmDNE_COrZhSk4-z8dNk4hzq4g3TSTjGwBAyJbpxkAUfB2KcygUZWYf4rh-JywylTS1lXjpKrnPLqgt3EzQ/w400-h300/20231231_112103.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnHIHRX1aNebBEBVIqoKo0Ij3vXnHEDMZLkDjo8hnGvZUmrjeHM9ltUMBTNS7xQD5Hrg8HEqId8IiValx_KoPgjRddym1AMYW4KAzUQuIl7ryPOu7ndl2QLsaIPbaF4WSND4UVS_gyJpeRPGQxN4IDECf8Xm_Ztd9ukXtUQZIhbiepEG0RWM6kgGPcRrQ/s4032/20231231_112050.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnHIHRX1aNebBEBVIqoKo0Ij3vXnHEDMZLkDjo8hnGvZUmrjeHM9ltUMBTNS7xQD5Hrg8HEqId8IiValx_KoPgjRddym1AMYW4KAzUQuIl7ryPOu7ndl2QLsaIPbaF4WSND4UVS_gyJpeRPGQxN4IDECf8Xm_Ztd9ukXtUQZIhbiepEG0RWM6kgGPcRrQ/w400-h300/20231231_112050.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p>At one point, it began raining. That happened to be at a discouraging point, when we were trying and failing to figure out the map, so neither of us mentioned the raindrops. And after a while they stopped. </p><p>Next came a light hail. Again, we ignored it, and again, it stopped. </p><p>Twice, to avoid a river of mud, we had to thrash through a forest of Common Reeds.You would think they could have sent us on an easier trail however they
did not. It had to be this trail. Ha ha ... Barbara began singing "It
Had To Be You," to the trail. That was a song we would return to several times.<br /></p><p>Trail, it had to be you!<br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGzl05-LD7d3h50WHpa2aX105a72hngtRNG43oKKQnUGqK4dr9N8M_n00CVUp4JFpdwTI5vmBEi9aAxhvlSYO5JqMhyDVZn5uEFPrnJT2Vr8XA1pOwHQtB4H-Z7xC5aOooCYfRyKfi-JeLcV_d6cClaLQgLHwAnzRSyFc4HHv96O9aJ8cLbRYtx7-kFOQ/s1077/reed%20forest.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="919" data-original-width="1077" height="341" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGzl05-LD7d3h50WHpa2aX105a72hngtRNG43oKKQnUGqK4dr9N8M_n00CVUp4JFpdwTI5vmBEi9aAxhvlSYO5JqMhyDVZn5uEFPrnJT2Vr8XA1pOwHQtB4H-Z7xC5aOooCYfRyKfi-JeLcV_d6cClaLQgLHwAnzRSyFc4HHv96O9aJ8cLbRYtx7-kFOQ/w400-h341/reed%20forest.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>And so we just charged into the reeds, going for broke. The reeds were taller than we were and we were afraid for a while we would not come out. </p><p>However we lived to tell the tale. And this is it!</p><p>Out in the parking lot, we greeted a big group of ladies heading into the park, and sure enough, they were also on the hiking challenge. Ha, ha! Lots of luck, ladies!<br /></p><p></p><p>It is funny, something like this, it just takes you out of your life. Mass that morning felt like a different lifetime. Also, I had completely forgotten it was New Year's Eve. It was like going into a time warp.</p><p>That is what's called an adventure.</p><p>We can't stop laughing about it!<br /></p><p><br /></p><p></p><p><br /></p>Mary Kunz Goldmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02691118577179541037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011528072573771541.post-89997464191768743562023-10-27T08:30:00.001-04:002023-10-27T08:30:00.152-04:00The Mystery Ogre-Faced Spider<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_tuYtdJUPnjM4kG1JeDjZsEPYA9KQ9lReC7ZicCQqU7qKJkv0WQdIHGUtLg8RjHxAj5iczJFV8q1yljhJ3oM_MULhS0cn_ntTvqbXm-pdCdPrsgMG7DyNSA_c-Y_XwLywLa4kTasdxruGcqL980QfLbFUSkHnuj4fKPgwRuGroSTZybMu2kmP73Kopow/s1800/ogre-faced%20spider%20the%20scientist.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1260" data-original-width="1800" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_tuYtdJUPnjM4kG1JeDjZsEPYA9KQ9lReC7ZicCQqU7qKJkv0WQdIHGUtLg8RjHxAj5iczJFV8q1yljhJ3oM_MULhS0cn_ntTvqbXm-pdCdPrsgMG7DyNSA_c-Y_XwLywLa4kTasdxruGcqL980QfLbFUSkHnuj4fKPgwRuGroSTZybMu2kmP73Kopow/s320/ogre-faced%20spider%20the%20scientist.png" width="320" /></a></div><br />So I was sitting at my desk, working, when all of a sudden I look up and there was this spider.<p></p><p>Not just an ordinary spider. It had long legs and it was vaulting this way and that, casting crazy shadows.</p><p>Quick! I sprang for my Seek app. I opened it up, fired up the camera, and aimed it at the big bug.</p><p>It was an American Ogre-Faced Spider!</p><p>However it held off on telling me the exact species. And zut alors, while I was trying to zero in on it from different angels, the spider vanished. I went back to work. </p><p>A few minutes later I saw to my delight that the American Ogre-Faced Spider was back! I tried photographing it again. However this time the app decided it was a fly. It identified it as one of a number of Common Crane Flies.</p><p>"Idiot," I told Seek. "It is not a Common Crane Fly."</p><p>It is an American Ogre-Faced Spider!</p><p>However now it is gone again and I do not think I will ever know which one, exactly. The picture up above, it is not my picture. It is from Scientist magazine. However that looks like the spider I saw, I will tell you that.<br /></p><p>Come back, American Ogre-Faced Spider!</p><p>Come back1<br /></p>Mary Kunz Goldmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02691118577179541037noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011528072573771541.post-74147280284738515832023-10-26T22:48:00.004-04:002023-10-26T22:48:33.141-04:00The Return of the Werewolf<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_40R06s3Aocnyvi3Rov_d5UqLLsdtncH-R6bSIWkui89R-2W4476g-Woe5xI2-OQgML2f0wiboXoe_1r41xfzjTQea5pGYMpdtQ_3SrCKNN6IHcITnD3jLMuztH9EVaIG2q-dprMrc8riXeQn-QLrB5EKlwESoXlapnlTCCPNjqH5lTejprhK29P7t3o/s4032/20231025_134459.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_40R06s3Aocnyvi3Rov_d5UqLLsdtncH-R6bSIWkui89R-2W4476g-Woe5xI2-OQgML2f0wiboXoe_1r41xfzjTQea5pGYMpdtQ_3SrCKNN6IHcITnD3jLMuztH9EVaIG2q-dprMrc8riXeQn-QLrB5EKlwESoXlapnlTCCPNjqH5lTejprhK29P7t3o/w400-h300/20231025_134459.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />Remember the Animated Immortal Werewolf? It is back!<p></p><p>This was the view from my front lawn yesterday.</p><p>It is, indeed, the Animated Immortal Werewolf! Wrestling with the garbage tote.<br /></p><p>Apparently the werewolf won the match because today it has moved to my neighbor's front yard. It is standing there next to a coffin. I fully expect to see its eyes glowing red and its jaw opening and shutting, as was the case last year. </p><p>I always remember the first look I had of this creature. When you see a box labeled, "Animated Immortal Werewolf," that is when you know it was going to be one of those Hallowe'ens. And it was!</p><p>And this one will be, too!<br /></p>Mary Kunz Goldmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02691118577179541037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011528072573771541.post-54015744417441789802023-09-26T21:10:00.003-04:002023-09-26T21:10:57.503-04:00Cat in a Box<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoIQXg7lAblMB1dvpj7YR5DgdS5eG4TKp-mZDLYg9dErFjIwXHWrlBpXtF4o7gYhvzEedu0lTbvjVXFsLN1uplH1pq-Lbq6kxwucP-HtLkt9NkMpCtfQgJaf4Vzs3fZdlvYgbFc65U-KX2fmvHQp_c1VYGQIW2zC6aHMprKFfxmnBannjg5P-0qP8mFpk/s301/cat%20in%20a%20box.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="226" data-original-width="301" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoIQXg7lAblMB1dvpj7YR5DgdS5eG4TKp-mZDLYg9dErFjIwXHWrlBpXtF4o7gYhvzEedu0lTbvjVXFsLN1uplH1pq-Lbq6kxwucP-HtLkt9NkMpCtfQgJaf4Vzs3fZdlvYgbFc65U-KX2fmvHQp_c1VYGQIW2zC6aHMprKFfxmnBannjg5P-0qP8mFpk/w400-h300/cat%20in%20a%20box.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />In our family we love laughing about brand names. Always have, always will.<p></p><p>And Albrecht Discount has the greatest brand name for pet supplies.</p><p>It is Heart To Tail!</p><p>The other day <a href="http://marykunzgoldman.com/2023/09/the-aldi-princess.html" target="_blank">when I had my delivery from Aldi</a>, some of the groceries arrived packed into a Heart to Tail box. It is now Jeoffry's favorite toy.</p><p>Heart To Tail must have planned that!</p><p>This box was just like a little cat house. It is like a freebie I got along with my Heart To Tail cat food and Heart To Tail cat litter. We are spoiling Jeoffry recently with canned cat food. He does not barf as much. If your cat barfs, try canned food instead of dry food, is my advice. It makes a difference.</p><p>Plus, if you play your cards right, you might get this box.</p><p>Heart to Tail!<br /></p>Mary Kunz Goldmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02691118577179541037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011528072573771541.post-67115941527170310082023-09-24T14:05:00.000-04:002023-09-24T14:05:10.568-04:00Back to the BPO<p>Last night I went to the Buffalo Philharmonic Orchestra's season-opening concert. It was my first time in Kleinhans Music Hall in something like four years.</p><p>It felt funny, walking in, just because it had been so long! However you always love going to Kleinhans. And in a minute I felt right at home all over again.</p><p><a href="https://goldmanmusic.blogspot.com/2023/09/bpo-season-opens-with-high-notes-in-low.html" target="_blank">I wrote a review of the concert</a>. </p><p>Which was just like old times. Aside from that I got to fuss with it a little. I have to be at church on Sundays at the crack of dawn however I got up extra early and fussed. </p><p>Actually writing a review can be drudge work -- you are home writing as opposed to out somewhere enjoying a cocktail after the concert. However this one was a pleasure to write. JoAnn Falletta, our music director, is fun to report on. <a href="https://www.visitbuffaloniagara.com/joann-falletta-making-music-in-buffalo-for-25-years/" target="_blank">I got to interview her this week.</a></p><p>Also the concert featured violinist Gil Shaham, whom I have enjoyed chronicling over the years. He has a unique charm. I got to talk to him a couple of times over the years, previewing concerts for The Buffalo News.</p><p>Here is my Gil Shaham story that I love to tell and that I subject my friends to frequently. The publicist had arranged our phone interview for late afternoon, a time I hated because by then I was invariably wiped out and off my game. On this particular day, it turned out that Mr. Shaham was also wiped out and off his game. I remember there was a problem involving the babysitter, and he and his wife were trying to figure out what to do, and --</p><p>As I remember it, I said, "Mr. Shaham, would you like to talk another time?" </p><p>And he immediately agreed. As I remember it, we both started laughing, because we were so happy to put things off. We ended up agreeing on talking later that evening at 10 p.m.</p><p>Which was great!! 10 p.m. was a different world. I was home, in my pajamas, fed and rested, with a glass of wine. Not that I confided these details, however what I mean is, I could think.</p><p>Long story short, he is a very nice man. You would guess that from his performances, however it is great to be able to know for sure.</p><p>And last night's concert was a concert I will remember.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Mary Kunz Goldmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02691118577179541037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011528072573771541.post-39284323835917753682023-09-23T16:50:00.005-04:002023-09-23T16:50:37.793-04:00Toilet Genealogy<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh4PXEshwZaiPiR9Kxn1nUBaVhTfz0nQ5vfIchOTzwYJpYt4mKZvwL07hsVq39byHTaei6wnxzpvHrYBY6OKbg9SyVOxJGTm83iRC6X2ZwNHN89ow4vtMEasEuaBZ_Uq1phbRzPxgUAaiVxKmArT2VDy10R3f1K9Qih-7i7QiLFHhDeuen0GiMLCyj-l8/s1894/toilet%20pic%202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1066" data-original-width="1894" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh4PXEshwZaiPiR9Kxn1nUBaVhTfz0nQ5vfIchOTzwYJpYt4mKZvwL07hsVq39byHTaei6wnxzpvHrYBY6OKbg9SyVOxJGTm83iRC6X2ZwNHN89ow4vtMEasEuaBZ_Uq1phbRzPxgUAaiVxKmArT2VDy10R3f1K9Qih-7i7QiLFHhDeuen0GiMLCyj-l8/s320/toilet%20pic%202.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Long story why, however recently I became interested in the genealogy of the toilet in my downstairs bathroom.<p></p><p><a href="http://marykunzgoldman.com/2011/01/toilet-eyes.html" target="_blank">Remember the toilet</a>? We explored this subject some time ago. Above is a file photo of it.<br /></p><p>Today I wanted to settle how old this toilet in our downstairs bathroom actually is. I happened to be reading in this book about Frank Lloyd Wright that I got at Amvets that you can often identify old toilets by a stamp on them. You can find very useful things in books about Frank Lloyd Wright and this was one of them.</p><p>I looked all over the toilet. No luck.</p><p>I reread the passage in the book. I did some Googling. Someone somewhere suggested I look under the tank lid. So I did. I saw nothing. </p><p>However after carefully replacing the lid I decided to give it another gander. I lifted it off again and suddenly .... there it was. Some lettering!</p><p>It took me forever to make it out. I had to do more Googling.</p><p>Finally, eureka! "A.R. San." it read.</p><p>American Radiator Standard Sanitary! I found that name somewhere online.</p><p>I consulted with Howard. As he has pointed out before, American Radiator merged with Standard in 1929. That means this toilet is not original to the house, which was built in 1917. Which we were thinking it might be, because it has that wall-mounted tank and just looks so antique.</p><p>It made sense however. When I moved in here a million years ago, a chatty neighbor told me that the downstairs half-bath had been added to the house, that the space used to be a pantry. I had always interpreted that to mean that it had been added more recently, and I had wondered if she was mistaken, because as I just said, the toilet is so old.</p><p>However, it turns out that she must have been quoting old oral history, and it is correct. From my research, the toilet dates to the 1930s. So the remodeling was done then. A long time ago.</p><p>From what I see online, there are a lot of vintage bathrooms, however very few with a toilet this old. Toilets are usually replaced at some point, out of necessity.</p><p>Ours has had its problems over the years, however the problems have been fixed.</p><p>It is going strong!</p><p><br /></p><p> <br /></p><p><br /></p>Mary Kunz Goldmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02691118577179541037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011528072573771541.post-72089520940925911522023-09-11T22:39:00.002-04:002023-09-11T22:39:42.108-04:00The Aldi Princess<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimJuw978Q9MYbuFDs0-Wr2Kc1vSQtA61KxcgiFvg3OQeeevNjb8cKc0cKIFtKjY-BM2qlvrDxz3MagfyE6FkXOffrFrJ2eq_hgtgVk-a8K7_BHptxnBjwCg6OAxVP5uai7-hD44Q4_o04x87ruSfx0_VzXLXxMivcn7zIBjBYbLEW0NcHZf3DO-yoc-7E/s1421/jeoffry%20aldi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1066" data-original-width="1421" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimJuw978Q9MYbuFDs0-Wr2Kc1vSQtA61KxcgiFvg3OQeeevNjb8cKc0cKIFtKjY-BM2qlvrDxz3MagfyE6FkXOffrFrJ2eq_hgtgVk-a8K7_BHptxnBjwCg6OAxVP5uai7-hD44Q4_o04x87ruSfx0_VzXLXxMivcn7zIBjBYbLEW0NcHZf3DO-yoc-7E/w400-h300/jeoffry%20aldi.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><br /></div>I love Aldi, you know me. And so does Jeoffry, as you can tell from the above photo of him enjoying an Aldi bag.<p></p><p>Now Aldi and I have taken our relationship to a new level. Ever since Covid made me aware that you could order your groceries, I have not been able to kick the habit. I have become an Aldi princess!</p><p>You order online, and poof, the stuff shows up faster than it would if I had gone to Aldi myself.</p><p>However you know me, I always find a way to complicate the game. With me the rule is: What you get is what you get.</p><p>There is no arguing!</p><p>There is no going over the bill and making a fuss over anything. </p><p>It makes things more exciting! Plus I do not want to do anything to upset this Aldi apple cart. This is a tremendous service they are offering. And the shoppers, I admire the shoppers for being up for this job. I do not want to make their lives difficult. I do not want to jeopardize this arrangement in any way. You screw up my order, I will eat it.</p><p>I mean literally, I will eat it!</p><p>Today was a great adventure.</p><p>Instead of one bag of red onions I was brought three.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCEdRCs8Y7Re8JBNKW4LdDlK00nl43N6nsAyrbSpLbE8qfihSzHznWxy_BfYcV-KhLaGeUU8wYiodrWSJrYrz-ovR_JyfWTtXD5U3o7vQpOdCYz4kHwQXk_RvNgJ1WOTAuFynazLek-KXwg3Rd3Lz6rV7gyVMhSmflxyFCIizJCnsYfhNNTpH7qB2QrDo/s4032/20230911_191624.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCEdRCs8Y7Re8JBNKW4LdDlK00nl43N6nsAyrbSpLbE8qfihSzHznWxy_BfYcV-KhLaGeUU8wYiodrWSJrYrz-ovR_JyfWTtXD5U3o7vQpOdCYz4kHwQXk_RvNgJ1WOTAuFynazLek-KXwg3Rd3Lz6rV7gyVMhSmflxyFCIizJCnsYfhNNTpH7qB2QrDo/s320/20230911_191624.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Instead of one bunch of bananas for Howard, I was given two.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAPUh5Tuh-5YrbDs_TgAXLe067FhdZyX2ESc_bMT8lnPUYkEsmbPkFZ9X3dCnGfQ1fxnhUylrj9xN2NwHjQpkhqsZcGJZS-sV6ZcfPmLbDlBcw8M6qndXKmxzWXRPEU4urnKTQSLmSk86Fv4wxXagHS4VDqICAwVpIZNei5f93gg6ZiSVg1cSQSuTvuBs/s4032/20230911_191816.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAPUh5Tuh-5YrbDs_TgAXLe067FhdZyX2ESc_bMT8lnPUYkEsmbPkFZ9X3dCnGfQ1fxnhUylrj9xN2NwHjQpkhqsZcGJZS-sV6ZcfPmLbDlBcw8M6qndXKmxzWXRPEU4urnKTQSLmSk86Fv4wxXagHS4VDqICAwVpIZNei5f93gg6ZiSVg1cSQSuTvuBs/s320/20230911_191816.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />The cat litter also multiplied. One became two.<p></p><p>Last time I remember I received two cabbages, not one. So I am learning that this is typical. Make no mistake, I am paying for all this doubling and tripling. But still.</p><p>Who cares, you know?</p><p>It is not as if I will not use the stuff.<br /></p><p>OK, there was one exception. One thing I got today I will not use. The delivery included -- doh! -- DOUGH --<br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjajfvF9UqUO7UhCWd-7xoPQ5NAGlzUwWbcRXHbLxu6vCCWeFUDCLy9GPY7JGIGWQRxSlYf5uNjyR-WiwQNq6goFIgE_Kl5ptq4lQdPVDyPfUOOggUvHBttwoDbGfa7Nwti6IT_3Gv667OE8Lx1NXIJSMo90liqWlHtPRHdy090ZBiCAFORanWMagO6X54/s4032/20230911_191550.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjajfvF9UqUO7UhCWd-7xoPQ5NAGlzUwWbcRXHbLxu6vCCWeFUDCLy9GPY7JGIGWQRxSlYf5uNjyR-WiwQNq6goFIgE_Kl5ptq4lQdPVDyPfUOOggUvHBttwoDbGfa7Nwti6IT_3Gv667OE8Lx1NXIJSMo90liqWlHtPRHdy090ZBiCAFORanWMagO6X54/s320/20230911_191550.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />-- a loaf of gak bread!<p></p><p>That was what my parents called this white bread, gak bread. I no longer eat any bread, let alone gak bread. I have not eaten bread for two years now. Howard even has knocked it off as well.</p><p>So what do I do with this Aldi gak bread?</p><p>Something for church coffee hour?</p><p>A picnic with friends?</p><p>I will figure something out!<br /></p><p><br /></p>Mary Kunz Goldmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02691118577179541037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011528072573771541.post-53869311626682247442023-09-06T16:21:00.006-04:002023-09-06T16:21:48.175-04:00The Hawk Has His Lunch<p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dy2gRBz_IAER2XfoyMEaeUwTFY9xZ_LlzAY8sTam9CnjpaQh1-puUnKCRA6fA44ANeXq__xi-2YLMW15ap4sA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br />Talk about Wild Kingdom! I was walking in Forest Lawn Cemetery and I see, some yards away on the bank of the creek, this big bird. He was perched on the ground and he was eating something.<p></p><p>You know me and the Seek app, I had to try to get a picture of this bird to identify it. It took many pictures -- the Seek app is finicky -- however just as I was about to give up, it told me what the bird was.</p><p>It was a Red-Shouldered Hawk!</p><p>And he was having his lunch.</p><p>It is kind of horrifying to see a hawk having his lunch. As Howard said later, you know that whatever he was eating had been having a nice day until he was lifted up by this hawk, carried to high heights, then dropped to the ground so as to be stunned, and then eaten. That is what Howard says hawks do.</p><p>What about Howard Hawks, the great movie director? <br /></p><p></p><p>I felt like him when I was filming this hawk!</p><p>Here is some footage I took of the dramatic scene. Warning: Gross! <br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyGxFpM5bbgtnvxWlIWecwRgsgBkFpx5VrPUGQVIRL-argJZ9-YBIq8ZueDjVHWctcQ4GXh-SupMdw5jmvA8Q' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div> <p></p><p>I kept filming the hawk off and on, edging a bit closer. I must have been about 15, 20 feet away from him finally. I didn't want to go away, you know? This is the only time in my life I will have this experience. I will never again be this close to a hawk eating his lunch.</p><p>The hawk kept glancing up, as you can see in the video. He was always on the watch for something that might want to take his kill away from him. He would glance at me too from time to time, however I think he understood that I didn't want a bite.</p><p>The video at the top of this post is pretty graphic. I think his meal might have been a squirrel.</p><p>That was what this other bird was eating once, this big bird up in a tree. I thought I had written about it but now I cannot find it.</p><p>I will have to dig out those photos and we can compare and contrast! <br /></p><p><br /></p>Mary Kunz Goldmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02691118577179541037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011528072573771541.post-35611873306901707452023-08-07T09:00:00.023-04:002023-08-27T05:39:11.520-04:00My car wash adventure<p> <iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxd1ZvtVnA6SJzMNVdI1pZ5mJkY9CftgAcDGFwssTRbh7TNw7YqPtXa7QiLVq2aLpwh1URPSXN1nUH1hq9qxg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I have gone on a glorious adventure. I took my car through Delta Sonic. That is the car wash here in Buffalo.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p style="text-align: left;">Here are a few pictures of the psychedelic experience.</p><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2RvarDHtwMYD5xdIUVKghl44qkdjyzbBHT-ce05GS2t26HVvYB1Px9KWP_ONipE3QzdMpQq9opcMKeXCCK9ATJmAOi7pZZ7rNm-knn2DLdUd-syHQK0-6Px15xLlhOtVZDRamGiL-BB7FboCb9rIDvKv24CylaBZ_2-Ge1dkQYtaPaW0RKu8tFYBn9hQ/s4032/20230802_112333.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2RvarDHtwMYD5xdIUVKghl44qkdjyzbBHT-ce05GS2t26HVvYB1Px9KWP_ONipE3QzdMpQq9opcMKeXCCK9ATJmAOi7pZZ7rNm-knn2DLdUd-syHQK0-6Px15xLlhOtVZDRamGiL-BB7FboCb9rIDvKv24CylaBZ_2-Ge1dkQYtaPaW0RKu8tFYBn9hQ/s320/20230802_112333.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcgoTMT9KZ6CQa_MPv-Fc0dAKMaMgZP2t-MCGG8WHeEBYuBkFBdrpCuPl5JnPEI-tVoSIw1zQtw_8NiEQGhkyKfwVxf-tOPlLwASBJJURXs5LaNqoR6E9L0k5D9tbk_AvXkK4VberMpO9gUR4U8sLLTXGGcpeqcEC9nI08omikjzYFw07ac797GdadNAw/s4032/20230802_112328.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcgoTMT9KZ6CQa_MPv-Fc0dAKMaMgZP2t-MCGG8WHeEBYuBkFBdrpCuPl5JnPEI-tVoSIw1zQtw_8NiEQGhkyKfwVxf-tOPlLwASBJJURXs5LaNqoR6E9L0k5D9tbk_AvXkK4VberMpO9gUR4U8sLLTXGGcpeqcEC9nI08omikjzYFw07ac797GdadNAw/s320/20230802_112328.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVshu9YIoF8FUmYKhFzvSpAYzKZCrkn-7ZWpoxIayvhgbKp40A4sDJhZBuWWKd180hjvF5jmgOod96KJFp9mJ8FB_EVX5lU9a4aXCOWKS9WcDzsRcUdVP-4FukLUFqQu7KChozEXaiU0NsvjxH8IjgSqI67gEVmJ2Mu2sIMsU4v6Fvxu3jVP0bFG4vrl0/s4032/20230802_112326.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVshu9YIoF8FUmYKhFzvSpAYzKZCrkn-7ZWpoxIayvhgbKp40A4sDJhZBuWWKd180hjvF5jmgOod96KJFp9mJ8FB_EVX5lU9a4aXCOWKS9WcDzsRcUdVP-4FukLUFqQu7KChozEXaiU0NsvjxH8IjgSqI67gEVmJ2Mu2sIMsU4v6Fvxu3jVP0bFG4vrl0/s320/20230802_112326.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJMrCLyBVxtKtRkizAgGz2Otg6SwgDzX178zABVff6SscrLh3zYz4OOtuit80XVEwaobrhbNJZpNWo1m3V5lS4Olw0wrf_wv38LNOEGKXzAEkocQKDfrc6ssyj4KXQr78q-eB5rkypA9xdTLZ8tbPVU0lVJ6nFe1pRKID7JtitQRr86ZyP5OBx5WpyVh8/s4032/20230802_112331.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJMrCLyBVxtKtRkizAgGz2Otg6SwgDzX178zABVff6SscrLh3zYz4OOtuit80XVEwaobrhbNJZpNWo1m3V5lS4Olw0wrf_wv38LNOEGKXzAEkocQKDfrc6ssyj4KXQr78q-eB5rkypA9xdTLZ8tbPVU0lVJ6nFe1pRKID7JtitQRr86ZyP5OBx5WpyVh8/s320/20230802_112331.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>On Sunday at the Latin Mass coffee hour I dined out on this experience. In Buffalo you are not brought up to pay to have your car washed. You are supposed to wash your car yourself. And we are all fascinated by the experience of going through a car wash.</p><p>Not being brought up to go through a car wash, I have been in one only... well, only once. The Buffalo News had me doing a story on going through Delta Sonic on the first warm day of spring and so I did.</p><p>What a pain! I remember begging Howard to go with me however Howard would not. I had to go through on my own. Not easy!</p><p>This second time around was just as challenging.</p><p>The car wash puts out no prices, no options. There was nothing in print as far as I could determine. It is expected that you know these things. <br /></p><p>As I was heading into the car wash I had to notice for myself that one lane, you did not go in that lane, nobody was in it. Everybody was in the other lane. The lane on the right was not open, however nobody told you that. There were no signs.</p><p></p><p>When I got out of the car wash the drama continued. The arrows were all pointing in this one direction however when I followed them, the only exit I could find was the road going the wrong way. It was the road where the people coming into the car wash were supposed to go.</p><p>Luckily nobody was coming into the car wash at that moment. However I thought, I must be wrong. I backed up the car. I looked around. </p><p>I could not figure out any other way out!</p><p>So I went out the wrong way. I reached Sheridan Drive successfully, hung a right, and I was out of there.</p><p>I do want to become accustomed to going to the car wash. Sure, you get hosed -- pun intended. </p><p>Still it is worth it to get your car cleaned. I am trying to get my life together and cleaning my car is part of that. I am, as YouTube motivation gurus would put it, raising my floor.</p><p>The car wash was part of a larger surge. On the way to Delta Sonic I also went to the dry cleaner, for the first time in my life. And to the shoemaker, also for the first time in my life. </p><p>But that is another story for another day. <br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Mary Kunz Goldmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02691118577179541037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5011528072573771541.post-44921791312971505122023-08-06T23:06:00.006-04:002023-08-06T23:06:50.787-04:00The Delaware Park Restroom<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd7j5hZI60xW1cYf07ATlTp3i_eGzuaP8MN2MGNv0M8oFn2c0DOXWSkSOwyrND_IqaDLg34FUW9AVCEXHaBXPbQB0pHjdPdkWl1Y6d1UWOg46oIENCGoGqk4XyWHaGjr3uNn6PAG5I-13lPCR7ulaGjb8YH0nkp624U-oDnQXHA5MKMapPfrTgUXhLk3o/s4032/20230804_103828.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd7j5hZI60xW1cYf07ATlTp3i_eGzuaP8MN2MGNv0M8oFn2c0DOXWSkSOwyrND_IqaDLg34FUW9AVCEXHaBXPbQB0pHjdPdkWl1Y6d1UWOg46oIENCGoGqk4XyWHaGjr3uNn6PAG5I-13lPCR7ulaGjb8YH0nkp624U-oDnQXHA5MKMapPfrTgUXhLk3o/s320/20230804_103828.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>The other day I was out drawing in the park and by mistake all I had with me was a brush pen.</p><p>This pen is kind of like a big fat marker. Normally I would not draw with it however it was all I had in my bag with my sketchbook. And so I did that picture up above, of the Delaware Park restroom building.</p><p>This building looks really beautiful in the photo. However if you are not from Buffalo, do not be overly impressed. It is closed and says it is "under construction." However nobody is ever working on it.</p><p>Still it is an interesting looking building and it was there and so I drew it.</p><p>I was happy with my drawing, too. I went home and looked at it. I should take watercolors to it but right now I am just leaving it be. Those big fat shadows and big thick lines, there is something I like about this marker.</p><p>Maybe I will take it out again tomorrow!</p><p><br /></p>Mary Kunz Goldmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02691118577179541037noreply@blogger.com0