Midland Trail, National Scenic Byway, a Road Full of Adventure and Fun

            “I am not a great book, I am not a great artist, but I love art and I love food, so I am the perfect traveler.”–Michael Palin

 

“To travel is to evolve.”—Pierre Bernardo

 

Author’s Note: This is the last installment of a three-part travel series that mostly featured the Greenbrier Valley area of WV. While the first and second part focused on the outdoor attractions, specifically C B Ranch, and the numerous dining experiences that abound in and around the city of Lewisburg, WV, this piece will focus more on the numerous attractions along the Midland Trail Nation Scenic Byway (US 60).

 

“Well, should we drive Interstate 64 home, or should we try Route 60?”

 

I mulled over the question John, my husband, just asked.  The interstate was full of orange barrels (construction) and, most likely, would be busy with Black Friday shoppers driving to and from shopping centers, malls, and big box stores.  We weren’t, per se, in a hurry, so why not slow down a bit?

 

After a bit more conversation, it was decided. We would travel along Midland Trail Scenic Byway (U. S. Route 60) or Midland Trail, for short.  After all, it was a crisp fall day with bright, clear sunshine that imbued the landscape with a golden light allowing the leafless trees and fallen leaves to possess the color of toasted pecans.

 

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The familiar road leading us from the beloved C B Ranch to the Midland Trail.

 

 

Historic landmarks and a small cemetery along the roadside leading to and from C B Ranch.

 

As we departed from C B Ranch, just outside of Lewisburg, where we had been staying, the surrounding farmlands glistened in the mid-morning light.  This now familiar road led us directly to the Midland Trail.  However, instead of the usual right that would have led back into Lewisburg, we turned left, and away we drove past expansive farmland, horse and cattle pastures, and earthen fields seemingly at rest for the upcoming winter season.

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Once last view as we departed C B Ranch.

 

The Midland Trail is part of a longer transcontinental road linking Washington DC to both Los Angeles, CA as well as San Francisco, CA that runs through a 172 mile southern portion of West Virginia, from Kenova (Mile 0) to White Sulphur Springs (Mile 172).  Research indicates that buffalo and/or native people mostly likely originated this expanse.  Later, George Washington ordered the trail to be cleared.  Of added note, John and I could not help but marvel at how earlier travelers could have ever managed the multiplicity of steep inclines and nausea-inducing switchbacks and curves in covered wagons, coaches or even horseback.  One thing was, and is still, for certain; the Midland Trail offers all travelers picturesque scenery.

 

Since we were departing from Lewisburg, we completely missed White Sulphur Springs.  (We will have to save that for another adventure.) We were, however, able to drive by Sam Black United Methodist Church, an historic, and quite majestic looking, Carpenter Gothic-style church, located in Greenbrier County and listed on the National Register of Historic Places.  It was built in 1902 in honor of the Rev. Samuel Black, a circuit-riding Southern Methodist preacher credited for spreading the gospel through Greenbrier, Clay, Fayette, Nicholas, Webster, and even Kanawha counties.  Black sold socks and deerskin gloves made by women of his congregations in order to help organize and build numerous churches throughout his beloved circuit. Thus, he came to be affectionately known as, “Uncle Sam.”

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Sam Black Church image as found on Trip Advisor.

 

Babcock State Park, the next point of interest after Lewisburg, took us by surprise, and we unintentionally drove past the exit.  We had been told that we needed to see and photograph the Glade Creek Grist Mill where cornmeal is still freshly ground, so we will have to save that for another visit.

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Glade Creek Grist Mill image via Trip Advisor.

 

Next up, Ansted and Hawks Nest State Park. While we did not, precisely, drive into the park, we stop at the look out area as well as the gift shop. This was a beautiful rest area with plenty of picnic and hiking spots, but it was the lookout that was indeed the true focal point.  This area offers breath-taking views of the New River Gorge.  While I am typically not afraid of heights, I have to admit, looking straight down over the edge of the lookout rock wall made me dizzy and a bit nervous!  Still, what an awe-inspiring view!

 

 

A few views from Hawk’s Nest.

 

While our daughter has never visited Hawk’s nest, I couldn’t help by photograph a rock with her name carved in it.  Looking over the rock ledge made me nervous and dizzy.

 

Driving on, we passed both Mystery Hole and Chimney Corner.  Described as a place where gravity does not apply, Mystery Hole is exactly that—still a mystery to me as we did not stop.  We have read that it is certainly worth the time to see balls roll uphill and chairs sit on a wall, but we decided to save both it, and Chimney Corner, with its country store and corner café, for another trip.

 

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Image via Trip Advisor.

 

Traveling westward, we derived great pleasure by the views at Gauley Bridge where the New and Gauley Rivers join to create the Great Kanawha River.  Additionally, we were able to see the remaining piers from a bridge burnt by Civil War soldiers for which we had read about at the Hawks Nest look out. However, it was the stunning sounds and view of Cathedral Falls that left us speechless!  Of course, the mere fact that water roared at deafening levels as it cascaded over the mountainous granite wall made any conversation nearly impossible!

 

Images from Cathedral Falls and Gauley Bridge area in WV.

 

 

Listen to the sounds of Cathedral Falls, WV.

 

Making our further along Midland Trail, John skillfully maneuvered the car around the twists and sharp turns of Gauley Mountain while I navigated the waves of carsickness attempting to overtake me. Gratefully, we entered a semi-straight stretch of the byway as we took in the view of Kanawha Falls and the Glen Ferris Inn.  My sister-in-law, Jacki Humphreys, and her husband, Tony, had recommended that we stop in the 1839 Inn for a bite of lunch to savor the view of the falls; however, since it was hours past lunch time, we decided that this should be saved for another trip. In the meantime, we did stop at the boat ramp, which appeared to be fairly unkempt due to what appeared to be heavy flooding, in order to better view and take pictures of the rushing falls.   Plus, the fresh air was an excellent remedy to motion sickness!

 

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Kanawha Falls with Glen Ferris Inn in the background.

 

 

 

Continuing on, we drove past Cedar Grove with great interest, but did not take time to stop by, choosing to also save it for another trip.  Of interesting note regarding this town, it was established in 1774 and was the location for the finishing point of the original road George Washington commissioned. There is both a mansion and a chapel from the mid-19thcentury located within the town’s borders.

 

Ten or so miles past Cedar Grove, is Malden, known as the boyhood home of Booker T. Washington.  This town has a replica of Washington’s childhood cabin as well as the church in which he taught Sunday School which can be viewed by the public.

 

Of course, the Midland Trail does end there. Other highlights include Charleston–the state capital of WV, South Charleston, St. Albans, Hurricane, Milton—home of Blinko Glass, Huntington with its Old Central City section, Camden Park— a 109-year-old-amusement part, and of course, Kenova, the starting point, that the geographical borders of West Virginia, Kentucky, and Ohio.  However, as these areas are our own local stomping grounds, and certainly noteworthy, each in their own right, we decided to drive on home, so we could plan our next traveling adventure.

 

Hmm . . . I wonder where the road will take us the next time?

 

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John and I pose for a selfie in front of Cathedral Falls.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lewisburg Dining: Feed your Inner-Foodie

           “Eat and sip your way through downtown morning, noon, and night . . .

Plan your food adventure for any time of the day.”—visitlewisburgwv.com

Author’s Note:  This began as one piece, but quickly became too long!  Therefore, this is part two of a three-part travel series, once more featuring the Greenbrier Valley area of WV.  In the first part, I focused more on the abundant outdoor attractions, especially those of C B Ranch. During this second piece, I will feature the wide array of dining experiences that can be enjoyed while visiting Lewisburg.  Finally, next week, I will offer snapshots of what can be discovered along the Midland Trail National Scenic Highway.

           “Hi! Welcome back!  How have you been?”

           I was a bit taken aback.  As my brain immediately recognized her face from our previous visit at the end of summer, my thoughts kept swirling as I tried to recall her name.  Furthermore, how on earth did she remember us with as many guests as they must serve daily? Nonetheless, after engaging in a few minutes of pleasant conversation with both her (I think her name is Paige.) and Annie, FOH manager, John, my husband, and I knew we made the right choice by deciding to kick off our dining adventures in Lewisburg, WV at Hill and Holler Pizza.

           While we had been to Hill and Holler on our previous trip, the food, staff, and atmosphere at Hill and Holler is wonderful; therefore, we had to visit again—especially since they offer gluten-free pizza with their own house made crust that actually tastes delicious!  With 16 beers on tap, Greenbrier trained chef and manager, Todd Wagner, and a menu that is way more than pizza; including homemade ice cream, house-smoked wings, crab cakes, and freshly plated salads, Hill and Holler is not your usual pizza joint. It is eclectic, hip, and possesses bistro flair.  Plus, it possesses one of the largest stages in town for regular musical offerings.

 

 

 

Garden salad for me (top); and a Caesar salad (bottom) for John.  Gluten-free veggie pizza for me (left); and Pepperoni and sausage with extra cheese pizza for John (right).

 

           Meanwhile, back at the tranquil setting of C B Ranch, where we were staying, John began to pore through Trip Advisor as well as local web sites in search of our next Lewisburg food experiences.  Honestly, it was hard to choose as there are so many interesting and varied offerings in the Lewisburg area. John, who is ever conscious of the fact that I have celiac disease and am not a big meat eater, read menu after menu in an attempt to find just the right places.

 

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CB Ranch, Lewisburg, WV

           There are several key points that make the Lewisburg food scene so darn good.  To begin, the Lewisburg area possesses a local distillery, brewery, and cidery; and after much conversation at numerous local establishments, they all agree it is the fresh, clean taste of the locally available spring-fed mountain water that contributes to the success of those local businesses. Additionally, Lewisburg is in the heart of the Greenbrier Valley surrounded by a plethora of farms. Thus, most Lewisburg dining establishments feature numerous locally raised ingredients on their menu. Which brings me to my final point, while there are a few restaurant chains in the Lewisburg area, most restaurants and food venues are locally owned/operated; and, most importantly, all of these businesses seem to support one another.

           Our next dining adventure occurred at Del sol Cantina and Grille.  Jamie, our waitress and bartender, spent a large time discussing all the menu options available at Del sol, which is varied and wide.  From house made pizza to their version of hamburgers, and from fresh seafood dishes to traditional Latin fair, this menu offers a wide range of tasting options.  In the end, Jamie recommended the Veggie Bowl for me and Pork Enchiladas for John. Plus, we also sampled the their tortilla chips served with two house made sides.  I chose salsa, and John chose Salsa De Queso. All told, our meals, service, and atmosphere were excellent, and I have no problem recommending this tasty restaurant.

 

 

 

Chips with salsa and queso (top); Veggie Bowl for me (bottom); Pork Enchiladas for John; Jamie, our super helpful/friendly waitress/bar-tender at Del Sol Cantina.

 

           Retro Donuts was the location of our next food foray.  Situated about 5-10 minutes outside of downtown Lewisburg, this diner definitely offers more than your typical donut shop.  Not only does Retro Donuts offer freshly made donuts and pastries, (Oh boy, did they ever look good!), but it also features organic/fair trade coffees, teas, and espresso, unique breakfast and lunch sandwiches, and homemade soups and salads, with both vegetarian and gluten-free options available! Plus, it is all served up in a 60s diner retro theme!  Even the on-going background music is from the 60s, adding to the dining experience. Once discovered, we ended up visiting Retro Donuts twice during our stay. John enjoyed their donuts (of course!) as well as two different breakfast-style sandwiches. I enjoyed their cappuccino as well as a breakfast bowl one morning and their house-made granola with fresh berries and nonfat Greek yogurt on another.  As two visits indicates, I highly recommend Retro Donuts for efficient service, amusing atmosphere, and quality food!

 

 

 

Retro food fare . . .Harvest bowl with house made cappuccino (Top Right); jelly donut with hot cup of free trade, organic black coffee; (Top Left) the classic BLT (Bottom R); House made Granola Parfait; (Center); and Bacon, Egg, and Cheese Breakfast Sandwich served on their world famous Donut Bun!

 

           Next up for us was a visit to The Asylum. Also located in downtown Lewisburg, The Asylum offers a unique and eclectic menu along with numerous craft beers and spirits.  The atmosphere is casual and cool with a large stone fireplace, leather couches/chairs, abundant tables, large bar, numerous large screen TVs, and multiple levels of sitting areas.  Yet, like all the other Lewisburg establishments, it was the food that made us want to visit again. John and I started off with a basket of their House Fried Potato Chips served Sizzling Sriracha style.  Next, I enjoyed their fresh house salad with house made dressing. Finally, John savored the oversized Pork BBQ sandwich with a side of homemade Mac-n-cheese; while I enjoyed their house made (gluten-free) black bean burger sans bun and served with fresh veggies and hummus. Yes, this is certainly another new favorite eatery that I highly recommend!

 

 

Images from the Asylum, open seven days per week.

 

 

 

Eating at the Asylum:  Sizzling Siracha House Fried Potato Chips; Pork BBQ with a side of house made Mac-n-Cheese; House made gluten-free Black Bean Burger served with fresh veggies and hummus as well as a House side salad.

 

           We were undecided about our last cuisine expedition until we happened to meet the owner of Retro Donuts, Arthur Forgette. He, along with Debbie Porter, are also the proprietors of The French Goat.  As the name indicates, The French Goat offers traditional cuisine as well as several twists on classic French dishes. Located in an attractively decorated house, the dining and bar areas are intimate, elegant, and comfortable.  Staff members go out of their way to ensure that every part of your dining experience is exquisite. Featuring the beautifully prepared and plated foods created by highly trained and much sought-after, Chef Stephen Gustard, The French Goat is a must-do dining experience.  John and I enjoyed being served and spending time with Shawn Huffman, bartender extraordinaire, who like Gustard, spent numerous years working and training at the Greenbrier. The wine and cocktail menu was extensive, and Huffman made perfect recommendations that enhanced our dining experience. We started with a decadent Cheese and Charcuterie Platter with tastes that seemed to melt in your mouth. After consulting with me extensively, Huffman recommended the Tuna Nicoise for dinner, but rather than serve it with the traditional ahi tuna, he suggested perfectly prepared, pan-seared scallops.  Meanwhile, Huffman suggested John try The French Goat twist on the traditional burger. The French Goat offered us a lovely and unique dining experience that I also highly recommend. Additionally, I could not help but notice the French Goat also has Bed and Breakfast! If our dining experience is any indication, I am sure the Bed and Breakfast would be restful and lovely respite.

 

 

 

Images from the French Goat . . .

 

 

 

Extensive Menus from the French Goat . . .

 

 

 

Dining at The French Goat . . . Nicoise Salad with scallops (Top right); The perfect red wine (Top Center) as suggested by Shawn Huffman (Top Left); Cheese and Charcuterie Platter (Bottom Left); and French Goat Hamburger

 

           Overall, Lewisburg, WV offers numerous choices to feed your inner-foodie! Unfortunately, on this visit, we were unable to revisit Stardust Café, Thunderbird Tacos, and the Irish Pub, but rest assured they are quite spectacular.  Additionally, we did spend a brief time in both The Wild Bean as well as Blackwell Catering, in which I, unbelievably, found a gluten-free chocolate chip cookie sealed in cellophane wrap to prevent cross contamination. The offerings in both eateries looked scrumptious!  Likewise, we heard great things about Amy’s Cakes and Cones as well as Corn and Flour, but due to my celiac,  we did not visit either one. Finally, we still have not yet visited General Lewis Inn, The Livery, The Market, as well as Food and Friends. Hmm . . . does this mean another trip on the horizon?

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C B Ranch, Almost Heaven, WV

            “Keep close to Nature’s heart . . . and break clear away, once in a while, and climb a mountain or spend a week in the woods. Wash your spirit clean.”—John Muir

 

“Wilderness is not a luxury but necessity of the human spirit.”—Edward Abbey

 

Author’s Note:  This originally began as one piece, but quickly became too long! Therefore, this is part one of a three-part travel series, once more featuring the Greenbrier Valley area of WV.  In this piece, I will focus more on the outdoor attractions, especially those of C B Ranch.  In next week’s piece, I will feature the wide array of dining experiences Lewisburg has to offer.  In the final installation, I will offer snapshots of what can be discovered along the Midland Trail National Scenic Highway.

 

 

“Mom, what would you think if I went home with Gigs over Thanksgiving break?”

 

I was listening to my daughter, Madelyn, on the phone as she talked in her usual rapid-fire manner.

 

“Listen, her mom invited me to join them. We’d be riding the Amtrak train from near her home in Sylvania, OH to Chicago.  Her mom said we could have Chicago style pizza for Thanksgiving!  How cool is that?”

 

And just like that, John, my husband of nearly 30 years, and I were childless for Thanksgiving for the first time in 19 years.  At first, I felt a bit sad, but deep in my heart I was happy for Maddie to have the experience. Maddie and Gigs had spent two weekends at our home already this semester of their sophomore year at Bethany College, and thus, I completely understood.  In fact, we often traveled with Maddie over the week of Thanksgiving, as she was growing up, visiting new areas for exploration.  Now it was her turn to sprout her wings and explore without us.

 

Images of our daughter, Maddie, and her friend, Gigs visiting Chicago with Gigs’ mom, Diana.

 

Soon enough, John was online and on the hunt for a Thanksgiving getaway for the two of us that would be pocket-friendly, and could be booked at the last minute as we were well into the month of November when Maddie made her announcement.  As we reflected over places to visit, we thought of our recent stay in the Greenbrier Valley area.  It was close—less than a three-hour drive.  Furthermore, it was beautifully situated in the WV Mountains, and the people we encountered were just the nicest.  Why not go back?  We had barely scratched the surface of things to do during our last visit.

 

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On a hiking trail at CB Ranch.

 

As John searched, he would show me one place, and then ask me to look at another.  Then, he found, “the one.” C B Ranch, located approximately four miles outside of Lewisburg, WV.  It was described as a “rental suite” with its own private entrance and private balcony views of the mountains.  Situated on 100-acre ranch, it offered everything we needed: living room, bedroom, full-bath, coffee-maker (always a must!), microwave, and mini-fridge. The pictures, along with its reasonable price, made it seem nearly too good to be true.  Hmm . . .

 

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We’ve learned, when using sites such a VRBO (Vacation Rentals by Owner), that it is very important to read the client reviews—and the more customer reviews, the more accurate picture you can gain of a potential property.  CB Ranch’s reviews were stellar and filled with comments that appealed to us, such as, privacy, hiking trails, friendly/helpful owners, beautiful views, and so forth.  The more we read, the more we were convinced to give it a try.

 

C B Ranch owners, Cheryl (foreground) and Brooke (background) with Cowboy, one of their goats that acts more like a dog.  Notice how it appears that Cowboy is smiling in the first picture as he plays with Cheryl.

 

Cheryl and Robert (Brooke) Bidish, owners of CB Ranch offer a most unique accommodation—the ability to have your own private vacation rental suite (or even primitive camping if desired) while staying on an actively working ranch.  In addition to renting a vacation getaway, CB Ranch is host to numerous horses for which Cheryl and Brooke board and/or offer retirement care.  In fact, you could even bring your own horses when staying at the ranch if desired!

Horses are aplenty at C B Ranch; and, you can even bring your own during your stay!

 

The ranch is also home to Nigerian Dwarf Goats, Mini La Mancha Goats, Katahdin Sheep, one talkative burro, two ponies (one is still a baby), dogs, cat . . . yes, this is the real deal.  Thus, John and I woke each morning to milky sunlight streaming through the mountain mist as the horses’ tails swished, the burro called, the goats and sheep grazed,  while Cheryl or Brooke, aided by their pet dog, made their morning rounds. There was something so profoundly peaceful about simply sitting and sipping coffee while observing these animals in such a tranquil setting.

 

While staying at C B Ranch, guests have the ability to regularly interact with all types of animals!

 

In fact, the entire setting was soul soothing.  John and I consider ourselves “country-dwellers” compared to when we lived in-town, but C B Ranch takes country living to a whole new level.  The stillness at night was rest inducing as were our daytime hikes. C B offers miles of trails for both two and four-legged creatures that offer breath-taking views; and we certainly took advantage of those trails as we hiked/walked the land daily! All that fresh air, the pure spring water to drink daily, and the ability to engage with the all the variety of animal life was truly restorative.  Cheryl and Brooke respected our privacy, but were readily available to share stories of their animals or offer advice/help for not only navigating their property, but also exploring the Lewisburg area.

 

Some of the sights from trails at C B Ranch.

 

One area Cheryl and Brooke highly recommended was the Greenbrier River Trail.  I could not help but notice in the suite’s journal (a journal the Bidishs ask that you use to record events of your stay with them) that several visitors to C B Ranch had brought their horses along in order to ride and explore the GRT.  And, why not? With 78 miles of trail, the longest trail in WV and ranked as one of the top ten hiking trails by Backpacker Magazine, the GRT, whose trailhead begins just outside of Lewisburg, is the perfect spot for a wide-range of outdoor enthusiasts.  GRT, a former railroad line, can now be used for biking, hiking, fishing, horseback riding, swimming, camping, as well as snow sports.

 

Brooke and Cheryl had a couple of hiking sticks at the ready for us to use!

 

Therefore, we certainly took advantage of C B Ranch’s close proximity to the trail and spent one late morning/early afternoon walking along this beautiful winding, and clearly marked, path.  We trekked three miles out, and three miles back, never tiring of the rushing river, gushing waterfalls, and fresh air on a crisp autumn day.  Afterwards, we made the short trip to Lewisburg for refreshments before heading back to C B Ranch to wash away the trail dirt and clean up for a short drive back into town for dinner.

 

I kid you not, you should swing by C B Ranch on your next visit to Lewisburg, WV.  You might even get lucky and earn a hug from Cowboy!

 

If you are looking for the place that is truly “Almost Heaven, WV” for a weekend getaway, or even a weeklong adventure, consider staying at C B Ranch.  You will find the accommodations clean and comfortable, the natural surroundings heavenly, and Cheryl and Brooke Bidish to be gracious, friendly hosts. Their website is easy to find, http://www.cbranch.net, you can find them on Face book and Twitter, or you can directly contact them: cbranch@gmail.comor 304-445-6168.  Tell them Steph simply sent you!  I promise, you won’t regret a moment of your stay!

 

More scenes of tranquil beauty courtesy of C B Ranch.

 

 

 

 

 

Everything you need for a comfortable stay.

Cheryl and Brooke completely respect your privacy.  

Present Moment Flow

“When you are here and now, sitting totally, not jumping ahead, the miracle has happened.  To be in the moment is the miracle.”—Osho

 

“Life is available only in the present moment.  If you abandon the present moment you cannot live the moments of your daily life deeply.”–Thich Nhat Hanh

 

“Mrs. Hill, why did you only record a part of our dance? You cut it off!”

 

Maanasa was laughing as she looked at me from around her computer screen.  Her bright eyes flickered earnestly.  She had been reading about the Tri-State India Association Diwali celebration of which she had been a part, and about which I had most recently written.

 

“I know I only videoed part of it,” I answered and returned to grading papers.

 

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Maanasa Miriyala smiles for the camera at the TSIA Diwali celebration.

 

It was lunchtime, and my classroom had become a study hall for those who would rather study, read, and/or begin homework than go to lunch/recess.  Usually, during this time of day, my classroom is fairly quiet with only the crinkling of food wrappers, the clickety-clicks of computer keyboards, the crunching sounds of food being chewed, and the whispers of students conferring over work. However, this was the last day before Thanksgiving break, there were very few students in my room, and no one was pressed with much homework.  Therefore, I had no problem with the on-going conversation.

 

Maanasa, who had been part of the TSIA celebration, was showing a few of her friends my blog, with special emphasis on her images and dance piece.  She had already spent time correcting spellings of names, which I appreciated; however, she was still in her teasing-critique mode when she lightheartedly made the comment about cutting short the video of her.

 

“But, there was more!”

 

“I know.  I cut off all the video recordings after a minute if you would take time to notice other dances that don’t involve you,” I teased back.

 

“Why?” she queried with a hint of playful indignation.

 

“Because, if I spent the entire song filming you, or any of the other dances, then I would not have been present in the moment.  I cannot enjoy and remember what I am seeing when I am focused on making a video—a video that wasn’t all that great anyway because I was too far from the stage.  While I wanted to record the event, I also wanted to savor the experience too.”

 

Maanasa tilted her head from side-to-side, as if truly contemplating my words, then emphatically stated, “Oh, okay then.”

 

She giggled and resumed talking to her friends as she explained Diwali to them, continuing to show them pictures from my blog.

 

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Maanasa Miriyala dances in the TSIA Diwali celebration.

 

I’m not sure what possessed me to explain my present-moment-philosophy to Maanasa, but it was the truth.  While I enjoy looking at photographs of past events, I am often terrible about remembering to take pictures unless I am doing it as part of a piece I am writing; and even then, my husband, John, usually has to remind me to take pictures as I often get lost in the moment.   That is not to say, I do not future-think or past-dwell; believe me, I do, but during certain moments, especially those deemed, “special,” I often try to soak in all the goodness as if basking in the sun, rather than use my phone to snap pictures.

 

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Cheryl and Brooke Biddish Ranch, Lewisburg, WV

 

Likewise, I am often similarly guilty of doing the same thing with social media.  I have friends, and even family, who assume I know something about them because they posted it on a social media site.  When I confess that I have not seen their recent post, I feel both guilty and simultaneously selfish because they have seen that I have posted about something to promote my blog, yoga class, or students without taking time to look at their posts.  Then, I feel compelled to hop on social media and troll all the family and friends I have neglected, but then, I find, I am neglecting the conversation/event going on around me at the time.

 

It is a vicious cycle it seems to me, balancing the right here, right now moment, with staying connected to the world around me. I observe friends and family who appear to have the ability to successfully sit in social situations holding their phone as they appear to seamlessly navigate what is going on around them with what is occurring on their favorite media outlet.  In fact, I often feel inadequate that I cannot do that. Therefore, I try to be savvier like them, only to find I can neither fully focus on what is occurring around me, nor absorb what is occurring on the screen in front of me.

 

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Cheryl and Brooke Biddish Ranch, Lewisburg, WV

 

Even before the advent of cell phones (Yes, there was life before then!), I can recall events that I probably should have photographed or videotaped, but did not. There were the routine moments, such as changing my daughter, Madelyn’s, diaper—the way her little arms and legs kicked as she would tried to vocalize along to the songs I sang to her.

 

Then, there were those silly life moments, such as the “naked baby game,” as John and I affectionately called it.  This was the time period when Maddie was a newly walking toddler, and I would bathe her.  Then, once out of the bathtub, John would be waiting at one end of the hall outside the bathroom with a fuzzy towel.  As I attempted to dry her with another towel, Maddie would  “escape” and run stark naked from me to John as he wrapped her up in a big ol’ towel hug. She would then giggle, wriggle, and writhe her “escape” from him and run back to me. Her antics continued as she ran between the two of us giggling with that infectious toddler hilarity that is only present for a short number of months.

 

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Cheryl and Brooke Biddish Ranch, Lewisburg, WV

 

There are special moments, even further back, such as the night when I first met John . . .his smile, the way in which he talked to me as if I truly mattered . . .the yellow of his shirt, the way his sleeves were rolled up slightly . . . the sparkle in his eyes . . .

 

And still, there are older, precious memories with grandparents . . .drinking Tang from a green plastic cup with my Mamaw as we sat and watched the Rockford Files—her big belly laugh so good and pure.  The long fingers of my Papaw proudly wearing the green Ohio University sweatshirt for which I had saved money to buy him as he grabbed my hands, looked straight into my eyes with his ever twinkling, devilment look, as he said, “Now talk without those.” The strong, swollen, sure hands of my Grandmother . . .gripping my own hands tightly, not wanting me to leave her because she would miss me . . .”Stethie, your ol’ Grandmother loves you, you know that . . .”

 

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Cheryl and Brooke Biddish Ranch, Lewisburg, WV

 

Even earlier . . .the scent of my mom’s Estee Lauder perfume lingering in the air as I followed her around the kitchen, telling her about my day’s events as she let me help (perhaps hinder) her with dinner and laundry . . .the scent of my Dad’s freshly laundered shirt as a I snuggled closer to him on the couch as he read the Christmas story to my siblings and me on Christmas Eve  . . .the good baby scent of each and every one of my siblings as each shared a room with me when they were first born. . .their cooing, calling, or even crying sounds when they woke during night . . the light paddings of my Mom’s feet coming into the room to check on them . . .the warmth of their bodies beside me as I read to them at night . . .the emotional energy of our sibling rivalry and disagreements. . .

 

Window fans and summer nights

Fireflies flicker through curtain sheers

Sliver of light under closed bedroom door

Whispers and crickets

 Backdrop to sleep

 

Earth scented walks

 Carpeted with leaves

Red chapped cheeks and hands

Plaid purple jacket with hood

Winds a’blowin up good

 

Icy street, slip sliding along

“Hop on the Bus, Gus”

Is our favorite go-to-school song

 

Pungent aroma of spirea

Scenting signs of spring

Phlox creeping purple ‘round

My favorite hill rock sitting spot

 

Looking in window

Yearning to touch the past

Present moment is here

 Better hold on it while it lasts

 

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Cheryl and Brooke Biddish Ranch, Lewisburg, WV

 

I am not sure that I will ever be able to successfully navigate between the cyber world and the life occurring around me.  Maybe it is because I was born of another time, but given so many others my age, and older, successfully slide between the two worlds; it must be a personal flaw.  Nonetheless, my thoughts serve as a personal reminder to me, that memories matter, they have real weight and texture; and when one is truly present, more moments are added to the memory quilt of a life.

 

May this holiday season serve as a reminder that while it is valuable to photograph special moments, it is just as worthwhile to sit back, savor the sights, sounds, scents, touches, and tastes of the day, before the moment slips silently through time, never to occur exactly the same way again.

 

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Cheryl and Brooke Biddish Ranch, Lewisburg, WV

 

 

 

 

 

 

May we be a Light to One Another

“May the supreme light illumine your minds, enlighten your hearts, and strengthen the human bonds in your homes and communities.”—Unknown (As seen on Times of India)

 

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“What a life we have!” I exclaimed to John, my husband of nearly 30 years, as we sat down for a late evening dinner.

 

It was Saturday, and our workweek had been a whirlwind, but that evening had been spectacular.  I recalled a statement made by one of my friends, Christine, earlier in the day during a lunch get-together and found myself repeating her words to John.

 

“We are truly blessed.”  Then, I added, “No matter the bills, we are truly blessed.”

 

Of course, John, being his ever sarcastic, and realist self, retorted, “We’d be a lot more blessed, and could bless ourselves more, if we had everything paid off.”

 

 

While John and I do not know the ladies in the picture on the left, they graciously posed for our picture.  Right picture is of one of our former students, Ajay Neginhal, and his beautiful mother, Sapna.

 

While I felt both the humor and the reality of his comment, I continued to feel contemplative and inspired as we had just left the Tristate India Association’s Diwali celebration held annually at Cabell Midland High School.  As John and I both currently teach in the same school, many of our current and former students were performers in the evening’s festivities.  Additionally, several more students and staff were in the audience. The celebration was lovely, full of displays of generosity, positivity, love, and mutual respect.  I could not help but feel my heart overflowing with hope, optimism, and gratitude in spite of the realities of life.

 

 

 

         Former and current students gathered to celebrate Diwali.  Top to Bottom, then right: Emily Blatt, Naveen Joseph, Angelina Bir, Nishi Chowdhury, Maanasa Miryala, and Heidi Short.

As best I understand it, (I do not claim to be an expert, and I ask forgiveness from readers in advance, if I explain something wrong.) Diwali is a festival of lights celebrated yearly in either October or November, depending upon the Hindu lunar calendar. It is not only celebrated in India, but also in several other countries, including Malaysia, Myanmar, Singapore, and Fiji to name a few.  Additionally, it is not only commemorated by those of the Hindu faith, but also by Sikhs, Jains, and some Buddhists.  However, it is the basic tenant upon which Diwali symbolizes and honors that persons of all faith backgrounds can agree upon, “victory of light over darkness, good over evil, and knowledge over ignorance.”

 

          The beautiful Bir family celebrate Diwali and insist on taking pictures with me.

In a world often filled with division, derision, and discord, Diwali appears, based upon my limited understanding, to focus on the sweetness and goodness of life that can be attained through a commitment to faith, family, education, work, and community.  Thus, as I looked around the auditorium and observed people of all faiths, not just Hindu, coming together respectfully and quite joyfully, I could not help but feel encouraged.  Hopeful for not only our daughter, but also for the students John and I have taught, past and present.

 

These adorable girls dance and celebrate Diwali with their family and friends.

 

 

 

      

The family-centered atmosphere delighted John and me, and we were especially amused by buoyant and excited children of all ages, vibrantly adorned.  We watched in awe as women of all ages, shapes and sizes, dressed the most vivid colors and sumptuous-looking fabrics, were honored and celebrated. Distinguished and dapper men of all ages, clad in colorful clothing, helped hold babies, patiently delayed performances for family members trying to change costumes, talked with the audience about the importance of giving back to the local community, and even turned up the lights for crying toddlers, who had become suddenly scared, when the house lights were dimmed for the performance.

 

 

     Left to right: Dr. Kalpana Miriyala, Dr. Pushpa Joseph, and Dr. Vinod Miriyala at the 2018 Diwali celebration.

Police officers, Tri-state dignitaries, and various community leaders were recognized, honored, or even given donations for their various works of charity.  Abundant, and seemingly endless, trays of what appeared to be traditional Indian foods were offered to guests for an hour or more before the start of celebration. Additionally, after the first song, performers walked off the stage and out into the audience offering small bits of food. Countless hugs, kisses, cheerful greetings, and affirmations could be heard throughout the evening.  I could not help but wish I could bundle all this positivity up, and send it out into the world, allowing it to envelop all of humanity with love and light, peace and patience, and an overall sense of community . . . the, we-are-all-in-this-together sort of attitude.  But alas, I am a sentimental, dreamer . . .

 

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Our student, Maanasa Miriyala, dances in a performance at the 2018 Diwali celebration.

 

 

One of narrators of the evening’s festivities, as he defined and explained Diwali to audience members, who, like myself, did not have a background, referred to the famous words attributed to Mahatma Gandhi. He encouraged all in attendance to go out and be a light unto others, living the change we wished to see in the world.  This line, and its variations, is so often quoted, it sometimes falls on deaf ears.

 

 

Current students, Angelina Bir and Nishi Chowdhury, dance in a performance during the 2018 Diwali celebration.

 

On this evening of Diwali, however, my ears listened as Gandhi’s words rained over me. I was bearing witness to one group’s attempt to not only offer light, but also be the change they wished to see in the world. No, they were not trying to convert those of us of other faiths to their faith.  Rather, it felt as if the TSIA was demonstrating the understanding, tolerance, and dialogue that are possible when we concentrate first on the similarities we have with others, rather than focusing on the differences.

 

It was a beautiful evening with an even more beautiful lesson to be learned.

 

“From untruth lead us to Truth.

From darkness lead us to Light.

From death lead us to Immortality.

Om Peace, Peace, Peace.”—Brhadaranyaka Upanishad

 

 

More pictures from Diwali!

 

 

 

What is Play?

           “Play is the absence of stress.”–Poole

           “It’s okay to be absurd, ridiculous and downright irrational at times; silliness is the sweet syrup that helps us swallow the bitter pills of life.”—Richelle E. Goodrich

           “Mrs. Hill, may we play with the yoga blocks and build “Bob” before we start?”  

           I looked up from the teaching notes I was reviewing to see a fairy-like student of my yoga club imploring me with her large brown eyes.

           “Of course, this is snack time.  We have about ten minutes before we start. Handle them with care please. They are not made of the most sturdy material,” I added with a chuckle, thinking of how the students are known to karate-chop “Bob” after they build him.

 

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Annie with “Bob” in mermaid pose.

 

           Yoga club is for students, grades 5-8, as well as any staff/faculty members of the school in which I work.  We meet one time per week for an hour and twenty or so minutes after the regular school day. The first 10-15 minutes is an open time to allow students, and any staff members that might also be joining us, to have time to change clothes, enjoy a snack if desired, chat a bit, decompress, and, well, even play before I guide a more formal, but still somewhat not-too-serious, yoga practice.

 

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Annie, Julie, Nicolas, Izzy, Lilly pose with “Bob,” they’re imaginary friend that they build with yoga blocks before yoga club. He is in mermaid pose, they tell me.

 

           It is during those unstructured moments that students are free to be kids.  I never know exactly what they are going to do during this time, and I am often reminded of my days teaching kindergarten in which my co-workers and I purposely planned time to allow the five and six years old to play with new materials before directing their use in more formal, so-called educational ways. Watching these now 10-13 year old students giggle, play with what they consider fun yoga poses, dance, and, of course, build with yoga blocks to create “Bob,” holding a variation of mermaid yoga pose, makes my soul smile—no matter how tired I am.  I so enjoy seeing kids using their imagination to simply play.

 

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Annie, Nicolas, Izzy, Isabella, and Julie strike their favorite variation of tree pose.

 

           Recently, a coworker/friend of mine and I were engaged in a quick conversation after school regarding the levels of stress and anxiety we now see in many of our students as well as our own children. It seems as if kids don’t have much free time to play—play without teams, without electronics, without extra curricular lessons . . .. In fact, we drifted off into our own memories of childhood play . . .

           Swing sets and hula-hoops,

           Roller skates and 45-records

           Spinning our favorite beats.

           

           Badminton, jarts, and croquet,

           Company was over last night–

           Play it our own way now.

           

           Baseball bat not used for sport,

           Might be a sword or a gun—

           Depending upon the tale spun.

           

           Stories told, roles assigned;

           Funerals for butterflies and birds—

           You got to be preacher the last time!

           

           Banana seat bicycle for him,

           Pink Schwinn with

           Flowered basket for her.

           

           Kick ball in the circle,

           Better not kick the ball in that yard.

           Rules might change, depending on players,

           Hope he doesn’t lose his temper once more.

           

           Frisbee’s on the roof again

           Why d’ja throw it there?

           Can we make a fort out of that box?

           

           Summer sun, autumn chill,

           Wintertime stands still.

           Spring car washes,

           Big Red Machine’s on the radio.

           

           Rook on the porch when it rains.

           Go outside and play.

           Stay until called for supper.

           Childhood memories of long ago.

 

           I wonder, how many of my students have ever ran around at night in the late spring catching fire-flies as the dew soaks their sneakers?  Do they ever get to ride their bikes around the neighborhood poppin’ wheelies and riding with no hands as the wind whips all around their faces?  What about playing neighborhood pick-up games of kickball, touch football, run-down, or monkey-in-the middle? Have they ever hung out on their front (or back) porch just to watch it rain?  

 

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Banana seat bicycle for him (or her). . .

 

           What about swinging with head held back until it feels like you’ll puke; and then, laugh at the feeling of butterflies in the stomach?  Or have they experienced that older cousin or neighbor who will play part friend, part devil, and push them on a swing high enough for the pusher to run under?  What about the rush of merry-go-rounds that the biggest kid of the grade pushes as fast as he or she can, then hops on at the very last breath-taking second! Then, there was tetherball, jumping-ropes, marbles, and pick-up-jacks— and all the different ways to define “King” or “Queen” in grade school.

 

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Merry-go-rounds that made kids’ heads spin . . .

 

           I can even recall, shock of all shocks, going outside on one recess while snow danced down around us.  I clearly remember Mrs. Jones, one of the beloved first grade teachers at my school, leading us (students) around the playground in a hand-held chain, snow gently falling, and calling it a game of “snake.”  There were slicky-slides of all heights, monkey bars of all styles, and even a few gymnastics-like apparatus’ that gradually began to be withdrawn from public and school playgrounds alike, year after year. Like the erosion of one’s favorite beach shoreline, you don’t really notice the changes until you see time-lapse pictures spanning the years, and little by little it is revealed the beachfront ebbing away, in the same way, the notions and toys of childhood play have also ebbed away.

 

Andrew, a seventh grader at SJCS, “play” with pie, and throws it at my husband, and fellow SJCS faculty member, John.

 

           To be honest, I suppose I have begun to reach an age of introspection as I begin to identify all the vast change I have witnessed over the decades—especially with regards to “play”.  As a person who, depending upon the definition used, is either the very last of the Baby-Boomer generation, or the very first of Generation-X, the changes of which I have observed, and of which I have experienced first-hand is, at-times, nearly unbelievable.  I cannot image what my parents must feel with their additional two decades of experience. And while change is an inevitable constant, the need for playtime, or at the very least unstructured, down time, I believe, will always be a need for all ages, but especially for kids.

 

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My great niece, Miss Luna, who loves the simple pleasure of play.

 

          While preparing to write this piece, I found the following quote by Alan W. Watts, “This is the real secret of life—to be completely engaged with what you are doing in the here and now.  And instead of calling it work, realize it is play.” Maybe that is the lesson my yoga club kids were, and are, teaching me.  Play is always available, and is always a choice. It may look differently now, but that doesn’t mean it still can’t be play—it’s all about the attitude brought to it.   Even more so, maybe that’s why my brain “played” with this idea—to beautifully illustrate—that I, too, am playing each week with a screen-full of words, hoping to discover “playmates” in which these words will resonate.

 

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My EW (Elevate Writing) Club “play” with words, like me, each week! The stories they create are certainly playful as they laugh, goof-off, rib one another, share inside jokes, and so forth, in the new form of technological type of play.

           

           

           

 

Grounded in Gratitude

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           “Get yourself grounded and you can navigate even the stormiest roads in peace.”—Steve Goodier

 

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           “But it turns out that people who are grounded and secure don’t change much under stress.  That’s what being grounded means.”—Michael Gruber

 

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“You need grounded,” Amy Vanhorn said to my daughter, Madelyn.  “Get outside. Go barefooted.  Get grounded.”

 

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My husband, John, and I had left immediately on a Friday at the end of our school day at St. Joseph Catholic School, where we both work, in order to make the four-hour drive to Bethany College where Madelyn is attending.  It was Dad’s weekend for our daughter’s sorority, Alpha Xi Delta.  However, Maddie and John had both insisted that I also tag along, and make it a family visit.

 

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Amy VanHorn, and her husband, Keith, had invited us to stay at their home, which is less than a five-minute drive from Bethany.  Amy’s daughter, Eden, is a friend of Maddie and also in the same sorority.  We gratefully accepted this invitation to save the trips and time driving up and down the mountainous, curvy, and car-sickness inducing roads traveling to and from the nearest hotel in Wheeling, WV about 30 minutes away from Bethany.

 

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The week had been exhausting.  John and I are finding that while we still love working during our 5thdecade of life, it seems we are never able to get enough rest.  Our recovery time isn’t what it used to be, and although we still get around six to six and half hours of sleep at night—which used to be plenty in our thirties and forties—it is no longer enough.  Still, we keep pushing through fatigue and forging ahead, ever grateful for our jobs.  Furthermore, that Friday had been filled with Halloween celebrations at our school.  Students were amped, and a large portion of the day was filled with the typically loud, stimulating celebrations that go hand-in-hand with the spirit of the holiday.

Personally, I emotionally struggle with Halloween. I find our society’s obsession with the holiday upside down.  I know, I know, it’s all about fun and frivolity, making me sound like a grumpy old lady. To be certain, I certainly enjoyed the holiday as a young child, but once I hit seventh grade, it was no longer an important event in my life.  However, this holiday has since developed into a multi-million dollar industry with all ages celebrating it for days on end.  Thus, when I look at all the millions of dollars and countless hours spent on candy, costumes, as well as decorations, and when I think of all the other beneficial ways the money and our collective focus could be used, it leaves me feeling not only a bit icky, but conflicted and out-of-sorts.  Therefore, this only added to my level of energy drain.

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Upon arriving at Bethany, we stopped by Maddie’s dorm to pick her up before heading to the VanHorn home.  She would be joining us for dinner.  Amy had suggested that we go to Dovetail Fire and Ale in nearby Wellsburg, WV, a local, family-owned and operated restaurant. (Which, by the way, John and I highly recommend!)

 

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“We love to cook, but not on Fridays, especially after an exhausting week like this past one,” Amy explained.

 

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We completely understood, and after hugs, greetings, and an exchange of a few pleasantries, we all hopped in Keith’s new, roomy truck and headed to the restaurant around 8:00 pm.  The restaurant’s atmosphere was comfortable and casual allowing all of us to relax our tired bodies and enjoy each other’s company.

 

It was during the early minutes of our conversation that Amy began advising Maddie to ground herself outside regularly to fight the stress and anxiety of college life.  I found myself agreeing as my mind drifted to earlier in the week . . .

 

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It was moments before the sun began to rise; the sky had blossomed with a harvest full of fruit colors:  cantaloupes, peaches, and rosy, pink apples. The inky black outlines of the graceful willows in our yard were in the foreground of these expanding colors as birdsong filled in the background.  I stood mesmerized in the open-door area of the garage holding my bags for school.  I breathed in the chill of the crisp air, both of my feet planted firmly on the concrete.  My heart yearned for more time.  Time to watch, time to breathe this moment into my body, time to fully feel all the gratitude of this heavenly touch at the start of my day.  Yet time tick-tocked onward, and I needed to move if I was to make it to school on time.  Thus, the sands of my hourglass slipped through this holy moment, not allowing it to be savored in a manner it so rightly deserved.  I took one more deep breath, drank in the lovely peacefulness, and packed my wares into my vehicle, making my way to school as the moment continued on without my presence.

 

 

Amy was right; not only for Maddie, but also for me.  I need grounded. We all benefit from time spent out of doors, but especially me.  My soul, my heart, my spirit needs it, and I have not been making time for it. God is there in nature, whispering soft words of love, understanding, and healing while painting seasonal images of Divine magnificence.

 

 

 

As I awoke Saturday morning, I soaked up all the “grounding” opportunities I could find.  I walked around the VanHorn property listening to the birds, their rooster, the snufflings of their horses, the cluckings of their chickens, and the pitter-patter of a cool, autumn rain.  Later, John and I drank-in the wonder of our daughter and her gentle friend, Ben, as we walked through the continual mist, across Bethany campus, listening to the swishing sounds of our feet traipsing over damp yellow, brown, and red leaves.  Then, we warmed up with coffee made with love by Ms. Linda, campus mom to many, at The Hub, Bethany’s coffee shop.

 

 

Afterwards, we parted ways with Ben, and Maddie blessed us with time alone with her as she gave us a personal tour of her daily haunts.  From the Robert Richardson Hall of Science, where Maddie currently takes three different science courses, to the Office of the University President where Maddie works several days per week; and on to the Art Building, where Maddie’s eyes twinkled as she shared several works of her own design as well as works of other students and professors.  I bathed in the gift of each moment.

 

 

 

 

Finally, we made the journey towards stadium and the tailgating event hosted by her sorority.  The fall air continued to kiss our cheeks, the light rain incessantly baptized us, and joy of time spent with someone you love enveloped us with warmth in spite of the chilly, damp air.

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Sounds of music and laughter offered a new backdrop.

Silly smiles. Serious smiles.

Poses held for photographic memoirs.

Sweet, sweet, time.

Grateful heart, overflowing with love and pride.

God’s goodness all around.

Centered by family love.

Surrounded by a Divine embrace.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Blessing abound.

Grounded in the gift of the moment.

 

 

 

P.S.  Thank you, Keith and Amy VanHorn, for taking time from your busy schedules to assist in this much-needed moment.  (I wish I would have thought to have taken your picture while I was there!)

MUCH love and appreciation to our beautiful daughter, Madelyn, for taking time away from her social obligations and course studies to be present with Mom and Dad for a few hours.

Apple Nachos

           “And when crush an apple with your teeth, say to it in your heart:

           Your seeds shall live in my body,

           And the buds of your tomorrow shall blossom in my heart,

           And your fragrance shall be my breath,

           And together we shall rejoice through all the seasons.”—Khalil Gibran

 

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Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

 

           “Mrs. Hill, do you think there are any bad kinds of apples?”

           I look at the earnest sixth grader who spoke these words. He was not speaking metaphorically.  He was crunching on an apple during the delegated “snack time” of the school day. In reality, it is part of my third Reading/Language Arts class of the day.  During this class period, students have permission to bring a snack with them to class and eat it. Although work typically continues, I do give students about 3-5 minutes to talk while eating their snack.

           Recently, the inquiring student had been bringing an apple to class nearly every day.   They were beautiful, succulent looking orbs full of vibrant reds, yellows, and greens that he would thoughtfully bite, then chew as if tasting a rare delicacy.  He clearly did not believe in the traditional practice of bringing an apple to his teacher as he made the noshing of each apple look scrumptiously special. Thus, I decided it was high time I partake of one of autumn’s favorite fruits!

 

           

           Fuji, Gala, Crispin, Honeycrisp, Granny Smith, Jazz, Ambrosia, and Cripps Pink, to name several of my personal favorites, are full of nutritional benefits—even in the age of low-carb, Keto, and Paleo! Apples contain quercetin, catechin, phloridzin, and chlorogenic acid—four beneficial antioxidants.  These ingredients combat free radicals, help stave off oxidative stress as well as aid in the fight against cardiovascular disease and cancer. Additionally, regular consumption of apples can promote bone health, weight management, pulmonary function, and gastrointestinal protection. If that weren’t enough, apples, as part of a whole food diet, can combat both diabetes and asthma!  That said, in order to get the maximum benefits of apples, it is important to eat the whole fruit, including the skin. No wonder there is the old adage, “An apple a day keeps the doctor away.”

           Last weekend, my daughter, Madelyn, a student at Bethany College, and her friend, Gigs, came home to visit during a short, four-day fall break.  When I asked her what sorts of foods to stock up, one of her first request was apples—enough to have some to take back with her to school!

           “The kind they serve in the ‘caf’ are never good!” she added.

 

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Maddie and her friend, Gigs, at our home on Fall break.

 

             I understood. While her school does have a nice cafeteria, the apples they offer students are typically Red Delicious and Granny Smith.  While there was once a time in my youth in which Red Delicious were quite yummy, over the past few years it has been my experience that Red Delicious are often now mushy and mealy.  Furthermore, although I absolutely love the tart, crisp, tang of a Granny Smith, I understand, they are not for everyone. Therefore, I had no problem honoring this request to pick up Fuji, Cripps Pink, or Honeycrisp apples—her favorite variations.  In fact, I must have bought more than the girls wanted because even though they took several back to school with them, they still left me with five! Hmm . . .

           I recalled over winter break, coming up with a unique breakfast idea for Maddie—apple nachos.  As I recalled, she greatly enjoyed them, and said I should definitely make the recipe for myself sometime; however, I never did get around to it.  Therefore, when I came home from work on the day Maddie and Gigs returned to Bethany and spied the apples in fruit bin of our refrigerator, I knew what I wanted to do with at least one of those apples—make nachos!

 

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Apple nachos I made for Maddie over winter break.

  

         When I made my original variation for Maddie, I slightly thinned out peanut butter with water in a bowl, added the mixture to a baggie, cut off one corner, and squeezed it over sliced Fuji apples—a variety usually available year-round.  Then, I sprinkled both raisins and mini-chocolate chips on top. Whereas, when I made apple nachos for myself, I mixed powdered peanut butter with water, but I, sadly got it a bit too thin, although it still tasted good! Then, I topped my nachos with mini-chocolate chips, dried cranberries and hemp hearts.  

 

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Apple nachos I made for myself. Even though I accidentally added too much water to the powdered peanut butter, they were still tasty!

 

           Apple nachos are such a simple, and easy to individualize recipe.   Any favorite apple variety can be sliced and arranged on a plate. The “sauce” can be made of cream cheese, yogurt, caramel, all types of nut butters, and even maple syrup. Additional toppings can include, but are not limited to all varieties of nuts and seeds; chocolate, peanut butter or butterscotch chips; coconut flakes, dates, figs, raisins and other dried fruits; as well as any number of spices such as cinnamon, nutmeg, and cardamom.  

 

           Any way you slice up this recipe, it is sure to be a winning meal or snack!  However, do keep in mind that apples are part of the “Dirty Dozen” produce items that are heavily sprayed with pesticides. Therefore, it is worth buying organic, or, even better, purchasing from a local farmer/market.

           From my home to yours, I wish you healthy, happy, and homemade meals!

 

apple business fruit local
Photo by Erik Scheel on Pexels.com

 

Apple Nachos

Makes one serving

1 apple, any variety, sliced thinly

1-2 tablespoons of favorite nut butter, powdered peanut butter, cream cheese, yogurt, caramel and so forth

1/2-2 tablespoons of water, depending upon how thin you prefer your sauce

Optional stir-ins to sauce:  ½ -1 teaspoon vanilla or other favorite extract, maple syrup, honey

1-2 tablespoons of as many optional toppings as desired, such as: chocolate, peanut butter, or butterscotch chips; favorite candy pieces; favorite dried fruit; favorite chopped nuts/seeds

A sprinkling of favorite spice

Directions:

Arrange thinly sliced apples on plate.

In small bowl, mix nut butter, powdered peanut butter, cream cheese, yogurt, or caramel with water (and/or extract, if desired), ½ teaspoon at a time, until desired consistency is reached.

Pour mixture into Ziploc baggie and cut off one corner.

Squirt “sauce” mixture over sliced apples.

Sprinkle with desire toppings.

Serve immediately.

           

 

How Long Does it Take to Make a Life?

           “Every child comes with the message that God is not yet discouraged of man.”—Rabindranath Tagore

           “We’ve had bad luck with our kids—they’ve all grown up.”—Christopher Morley

           “The world is going to hell in a handbasket,” was an expression from my childhood that I often overheard grown-ups use that I never quite understood at the time.  Of course, now, as an adult, I certainly understand those sometimes-still-stated words. In fact, I’ve even been known to think it a time or two! Then, I go to work, see the kids, and rethink that phrase.

 

           I have been blessed with an amazing career—education.  I became a certified (now licensed) teacher, unbelievably, at the age of 21; naively thinking I would set the world on-fire!  Now, thirty-one years later, I realize, it is the opposite. It is the kids, as well as my own daughter, that have continued to ignite and inspire my own inner fire.  They give me hope that, well, maybe, just maybe, society, as a whole, is not doomed to a fiery abyss.

           While I have had the privilege of working in several wonderful schools, my current place of employment is St. Joseph Catholic School.  One of the unique qualities of this school is that our students’ ages range from 6-weeks (daycare) to preschool age, as well as from Kindergarten to grade 8.  While I spend most of my time with students in grades sixth through eighth, I do have occasional opportunities to indirectly encounter and interact with younger students, such walking through the halls, attending our weekly mass (church-service), and during school-wide events such as assemblies, the upcoming pumpkin drop, and so forth.   Additionally, there are school-families, one of, if not my favorite, cross-grade activity.

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Many of our SJCS middle school students “dressed down” (not in school uniform) in pink to raise money and awareness for breast cancer research.

 

           Arranged differently each school year by our administrators, a school family is one or two students per grade from each K-8 grade level paired with a teacher or instructional aide.  Then, throughout the school year, special activities are specifically planned to be completed as a school family. When these activities occur, middle school students are asked to gather the younger students, K-5, and lead them as a group to their assigned staff member.  Then, the staff member helps facilitate the activity.

           Benefits of school family activities are numerous, including fostering positive and appropriate communication, increasing empathy and understanding, encouraging team-building and problem solving, as well as an opportunity for leadership and role-modeling for the older students to name a few.   As a teacher, school families allow me to see students as kids—the whole child, not just the student-side.  Furthermore, it puts me in touch with wonder—the unbridled joy and enthusiasm with which children view the world!

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Painted pumpkins drying in my classroom–a product of school family day activity.

 

           Recently, staff and students at SJCS took a break out of our regular daily schedule for our first school family event.  I individually talked to each member of the middle school students in my family—Caleb, Hope, and Carson–regarding my expectations for them.  As I talked to Caleb, Hope and Carson individually, I tried to be both cheerleader and guide. All three students responded with nods of agreement, yet I still wondered if they would step up and own the full leadership potential I saw within each one.  It would only take minutes to discover my answer.

           The two kindergarten students tentatively entered my classroom holding Hope’s hand.  First and second grade students burst through the doorway vibrating with liveliness, two of the *four kids, holding onto Carson’s hands. Lastly, walking politely and energetically came the third, fourth and fifth grade students with Caleb in the center, smile spreading widely across his face.  As I assembled the group around a table set up with supplies to paint pumpkins, I could not help but feel a sense of pride for the middle school students as they assumed their role as caregivers and leaders.

 

           Natural conversation ensued as the painting began.  It never ceases to amaze the ease with which younger kids can engage one another with little to no apparent bias, judgment, or preconceived notions.  Further, I love the way in which the little guys can fully embrace their task with a can-do attitude. By middle school, most students have lost part, and sadly sometimes all, of that openness.  Thus, it is good for the middle school students to observe and once more be around that genuine spirit of all-is-possible.

 

 

           Once painting was completed, I allowed students the freedom to draw, talk, and even read to one another, although one student read simply chose to read to himself.  The conversations grew more animated. I walked about the room hopping in and out of the chatter, taking pictures, and overall soaking up the sweetness of the moment.  Then, my ears perked up.

           “How long did it take you to get to middle school?”   

           It was a second grader, his face intently and earnestly gazing at Hope, a seventh grader.  I couldn’t help but smile and inwardly chuckle; and from the look of Hope’s face as well as the twinkle of her blue eyes, so was Hope as she tried to explain the math to him.  His question stuck with me though.

 

 

           How long did it take to get to year 31 of my teaching career?  How long did it take for my own child to grow up and move on to college? How long did it take for my husband, John, and me to arrive at nearly 30-years of marriage?   How long, how long, how long . . ..

 

      

     The older I get, the more precious time and life become, and yet still, I move through each day more likely than not, forgetting that life is short.  Like that slice of Grandmother Helen’s decadent brownie I can never recreate as much as I try, or Mamaw Musick’s beloved sugar-laden, thick-crusted apple pie that John swears was the best, life must be savored because it too will soon be gone as quickly as a fork being placed across an empty dessert with only a few crumbs of memory left.  

           Isn’t it ironic that some of the most important life lessons are presented in the form of child’s question?

  

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Just as I savored and enjoyed this rare treat, life must be savored too. (Thank you Paradise Donuts for creating a Gluten-Free Donut that doesn’t make me sick!)

         

 

Rise up

          Author’s note to reader: This was not easy to write, and I realize by sharing a story so personal that I risk offending and/or losing readers.  Further, I do not write this to change minds, but rather to offer additional insight.  I am NOT promoting one political party or position.  Instead, I am sharing how one short-term experience with trauma forever impacted me.  I cannot begin to imagine what other victims of long-term abuse, violation, and/or suppression have experienced and been impacted.  My hope is that readers begin to see there truly are faces behind statistics, and that the other “you” is a real person.

 

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Photo by Rahul on Pexels.com

 

           “Through the darkness of today’s conflicts, each and everyone of us can become a bright candle, a reminder that light will overcome darkness, and never the other way around.”—Pope Francis

 

           I don’t know about you, Dear Reader, but my mind, heart, and soul are a swirling with questions.  As I type this early Sunday morning, I am reflecting over events of my lifetime, events of recent years, and current headlines.   I am one who rarely speaks to topics of controversy, but my heart and soul are urging me, an ordinary person, to share my story in order illustrate why there is often a great divide.

           I am but one person, one voice, and one point of experience.  I am not naive enough to think my thoughts will impact the world in a big way.  However, as I sat this past week in Morgantown overlooking the Monongahela River, I observed a random leaf drift down onto the chocolate-milk-colored water.  As soon as the leaf alighted upon the river, it created a wave that reached the shore. That is my hope for these words—they will resonate and/or increase understanding/empathy within a person or two.  

 

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As seen in a presentation by Sheri Wohlfert, Keynote Speaker at recent Professional Development for educators.

 

           “Don’t say: ‘That person gets on my nerves.’ Think: ‘That person sanctifies me.’”—St. Josemaria Escriva

 

           As a child I often received spoken and unspoken rules from a male-dominated society.  Some of these messages included:

            “It’s not good for a woman to be too smart.  She won’t get a husband.”

           “Women should only be nurses, teachers, or secretaries; otherwise, they are taking work away from a man.”

           “Women who wear _______________ (short skirts, low-cut blouses, high heels, and so forth.) are asking for ‘it.’” (What “it” was, I never understood as a kid.)

                       “Women who go to a/n ______________  (bar, restaurant that serves alcohol, empty street, boy’s house, and so forth.) alone are asking for ‘it’.”  (Again, I did not know what “it” was, but I sensed “it” must be bad.)

 

           As a youngster, I questioned the validity of these messages.  In fact, I questioned most everything, including my own family rules. I am sure I drove my parents crazy because “why” seemed hard-wired into my child-brain.  My siblings have often told me they learned from me, mostly due to my frequent bouts of “punishments,” including getting my mouth washed out with soap on more than one occasion, the rewards of not talking back.  Still, I kept speaking out, questioning. Then, I learned the hard way, not everyone cares what you have to say.

 

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Photo by Burst on Pexels.com

 

           I was an older teen when it happened. How it exactly happened, I am unsure.  Just as I cannot tell you the dates or the exact words I said as a kid to get my mouth washed out with soap, I only remember the bitter taste of the soap, so too is this memory.

           The shag carpet of the staircase in my face, and pain exploding in my body.  I said, “stop”, but the carpet was in my face. The pain was like no other. The carpet fibers chafed my tear-stained cheeks as I continued to say, “No.” The pain continued to explode as my voice fell on deaf ears.  Shame filled my mind. Can. Never. Tell. Must. Not. Ever. Tell. It. Must. Be. My. Fault. Hurt, hurt, hurt.

           I do not remember how I got home. I only remember the bathroom, lying on the cool linoleum, overcome with pain and shame that would not go away, and continually sobbing. Must. Not. Tell.   

           I remember him.  He is clear as the taste of Dial soap, but I don’t recall the date or many pertinent details.  Most days, I don’t think of him or the event. Most days, I have moved beyond that event, and even forgiven him because he was (and is) a product of the times in which we were raised. However, I can now recognize how that event forever changed me, changed the way I perceived my voice, created fears and inner demons within me, and planted seeds of mistrust of others and myself that have taken decades to acknowledge and understand.

 

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As seen in a presentation by Sheri Wohlfert, Keynote Speaker at recent Professional Development for educators.

           “If you judge people, you have no time to love them.”—Mother Teresa

 

          These past two weeks though have brought much of it back: the nightmares; feelings of shame; the knot in my stomach; and the feeling of being powerless.  The talking heads of society that mock, ridicule, and/or hide behind positions of power often remind me of the same vitriolic attitudes I sensed so long ago–those attitudes and “rules” I once questioned as a kid.  I feel those same questions begin to rise once more as bile rises when one begins to get sick. And, yet, my faith and personal disposition at age 53, remind me that I must move beyond the hate, the judgment, and acridity of headlines.  Therefore, I choose to use my voice, my words, and my thoughts to promote change; and, I do this with the full love and support of my husband and daughter.

 

 

 

 

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As seen in a presentation by Sheri Wohlfert, Keynote Speaker at recent Professional Development for educators.

 

           “Feeling hopeful does not mean to be optimistically naïve and ignore the tragedy humanity is facing.  Hope is the virtue of a heart that doesn’t lock itself into darkness, that doesn’t dwell on the past, does not simply get by in the present, but is able to see a tomorrow.”—Pope Francis

 

           I say, not just to women, but also to all victims of oppression, cruelty, and repression: Rise up.  Let your voices be heard in government, churches, businesses, educational institutions, corporations, social media, news outlets, and all other forms of societal groups.  Tell your stories. Be quiet no more. Act upon your words and beliefs. Work to bring about change. Uplift and support others. Watch and protect one another. Do not dwell on past events; but rather, use them as a point of motivation.  

           Most of all, now, more than ever, embrace an attitude of hope, rather than defeat.  For it is by embracing hope that we are motivated to work towards a future of change—a tomorrow that, albeit, may never be perfect, but can be filled with progress—progress toward a path in which ALL voices can be heard/seen; positions/institutions of power and policies can be questioned; and the content of character matters more than media image, political party, bank account size, or special interest affiliation.   

           “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.”—Jeremiah 29:11

 

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As seen in a presentation by Sheri Wohlfert, Keynote Speaker at recent Professional Development for educators.

           

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As seen in a presentation by Sheri Wohlfert, Keynote Speaker at recent Professional Development for educators.