Your Stories March 2010

To read The People’s Press, Meriden and Wallingford Ct’s Newspaper in image or pdf form go to www.peoplespressnews.com . We are your NewsMagazine! Wallingford Resident Begins Peace Corps Service in Jamaica Pamela VanderWeele, 63, of Wallingford, Conn., has been accepted into the Peace Corps. VanderWeele will be departing for Jamaica on March 17 to begin pre-service training as a Youth as Promise Peace Corps volunteer. Upon graduation from volunteer training in June, VanderWeele will be working with the Jamaican Ministry of Education to support rural schools. VanderWeele is the daughter of Allan and Lee Reynolds, and a graduate of Alexander Ramsey High School in Roseville, Minn. She then attended Hope College in Holland, Mich., where she earned a Bachelor of Arts in sociology, graduating in 1968. VanderWeele previously worked at the Wallingford YMCA as the aquatic director. “I have always wanted to join the Peace Corps since it was created in the 1960’s. The Peace Corps mission to share expertise while living with families in the host country is what attracted me,” VanderWeele said of her decision to join the Peace Corps. During the first three months of her service, VanderWeele will live with a host family in Jamaica to become fully immersed in the country’s language and culture. After acquiring the language and cultural skills necessary to assist her community, VanderWeele will serve for two years in Jamaica, living in a manner similar to people in her host country. VanderWeele joins the 108 Connecticut residents currently serving in the Peace Corps. More than 3,003 Connecticut residents have served in the Peace Corps since 1961. Over 3,600 Peace Corps Volunteers have served in Jamaica since the program was established in 1962. Volunteers in this Caribbean nation work in the areas of education, youth and community development, environmental and agricultural conservation, health and HIV/AIDS awareness, water sanitation and hygiene promotion, and business development. Many Volunteers working on HIV/AIDS prevention and care receive support from the U.S. President’s Emergency Plan for AIDS Relief (PEPFAR) program. Jamaica is a pilot program for the Peace Corps 50+ initiative, an agency-wide effort to recruit older Americans to serve in the Peace Corps. Currently, 86 Volunteers are serving in Jamaica. Today, 7,876 Americans serve in the Peace Corps. Of that total, 5.4 percent of currently serving volunteers are aged 50 or older. The Peace Corps regards older volunteers as a great asset, bringing both their professional and life experiences to help countries around the world meet their development needs. Volunteers over age 50 are currently serving in 58 of the 76 Peace Corps countries. As the Peace Corps approaches its 50th anniversary, its service legacy continues to promote peace and friendship around the world. Historically, over 195,000 volunteers have helped promote a better understanding between Americans and the people of the 139 countries in which they have served. Currently, 7,876 Peace Corps volunteers are serving in 76 countries. Peace Corps volunteers must be U.S. citizens and at least 18 years of age. Peace Corps service is a 27-month commitment. To learn more about the Peace Corps, please visit our website: www.peacecorps.gov. CALLA LILIES Dorothy Gonick The calla lily, or zantedeschia, is a native of South Africa that has been enjoyed for centuries and gives pleasure worldwide today. The unique form of this elegant flowering plant adds to its beauty. Florists favor calla lilies in floral arrangements and many brides choose these exquisite blooms for their bridal bouquets. The calla lily is a hardy plant that grows from bulbous roots into a plant with very large leaves shaped like arrowheads, and a rather thick stem. Atop this stem a bud will unfurl its single leafy sheath, called a spathe, into a trumpet shaped bloom that is usually white. Some varieties bloom in other lovely colors. Sheltered within the spathe is a yellow, fleshy club-like spike called a spadix that is covered with minute flowers that will produce seeds. The plant contains poisonous oxalic acid that we must be aware of. The calla lily is a hardy plant that will grow in most soils of a humid climate. The bulbs spread by producing many more bulbs which can be dug up and replanted in another location. In many countries where the calla lily is a native, the farmers consider it a weed and vigorously destroy the plants to create farmland for crops. Sacrificing beauty for livelihood. This brings to mind the many swaths of land we have sacrificed in order to build cities and commercial developments to enrich our lives. _________________________________________________________________ Oh, Go Fly A Kite ~ george arndt ~ The winds of March were a blessing for those of us who enjoyed the thrill of sending that ten-cent kite flying high into the blue. When my two sons were just knee high to a grasshopper, I would take them kite flying. Part of the fun was assembling the kite…somehow I always managed to get the two thin pieces of wood inserted into the designated spots without snapping them in two. Ahhhh, and then came the tail…it had to be made with just the right cut of cloth. The length was optional, but it had to be just one and a half inches wide. Then came the short pieces of material for the ribbons…one had to have the skill to determine the spacing along the length of the tail for those specially designed cross ribbons. With finished projects in hand and balls of string…off we headed to that wide open field with no trees to worry about. It took a bit of running to get that amazing thing called a kite, into the air. And, with the proper maneuvering by my little boys, those diamond-shaped pieces of paper soared like eagles. Now and then I would have to intervene to keep the kites on course. Oh, but as sometimes would happen, the wind would not cooperate, and I would hand the end of the string off to my son, and say… ”Here, Dougie, now you hold the string and run as hard as you can.” Oh, but such sorrow should befall my poor little boy…the wind was dying and the kite was fluttering and soon, there it was…stuck in that far off tree…the same one that good ol’ Charlie Brown always gets his kite entangled in. And so, the venture ended in tones of blues and grays for my youngest son…he was only five years old. As we drove back home, he sat in the back seat pouting and blubbering about how his kite got stuck in a tree……..it was so sad hearing his pitiful words of disappointment. As we were driving along, the sad tears became tears of laughter as we talked and joked about how that nasty old tree ate his favored kite. So, the next time someone tells you to go fly a kite…be a sport, and do just that…literally. _ _____ Connecticut Outdoors Written By: Paul Narducci As we head into the month of march it is time start thinking about open water. It has truly been a long winter and I am ready to start fishing. For those of you who don’t know, I do not ice fish. To be very honest with you, I’m afraid of water. What? Yes, this is true. The fear of falling in will keep me off the ice forever. I am not a good swimmer at all and do not enjoy being in the water but love being on the water. It is time to start getting all your equipment ready. The first thing is to clean your rods and reels. You should replace all your old line with new. I like to use Ardent’s reel cleaner kit and butter grease. This will make sure your reels are in the best shape and will be protected through out the year. I will also take care of my St Croix rod handles by using windex on the cork which will make them look brand new. I spray this on a paper towel and rub into the cork itself. Always replace all your old line with new and I recommend trying Silver Thread fishing line. The next area to attack is your tackle box. I like to sharpen all my hooks on my lures even if I didn’t use them. If there are any rusty hooks now is the time to replace them. I will also take a good look at what I used and what I didn’t with the idea of making room for the new lures for 2010. Most companies already have come out with their new lines of lures .I love trying new lures because the fish haven’t seen them yet and something different always excites me. I love using my go to baits but I truly believe something new to a fish will also excite them. With my rods, reels and tackle box done I’m ready to fish. Well not exactly? I forgot I have to get my fishing license, how much? Well, I’m not even going to get started on the increase and lack of care our state launches receive because this article is going to be a positive one. The other thing I’m going to discuss is your boat. If you own a boat hopefully you have been taking care of your batteries over the winter months. If you haven’t and they are old it may be wise to replace them. I have found that fooling around with cheap inexpensive batteries may not always be the smart way to go. I would recommend buying Optima Batteries and take any worries out of your mind. These batteries are top of the line and will keep you on the water. Some things you may be able to cut corners on but batteries shouldn’t be one of them. There is nothing worse than being on the water and your batteries don’t work. With hopefully the last month of winter on us it is a great time to take care of these basic things. It is important to take care of these things today so you don’t regret it tomorrow. For those of you who enjoy boating be sure you check and replace if needed your life jackets. It is very important that you wear them . With the life jackets that are on the market there is no excuses for anyone. Every year I hear and read about people who don’t wear them and it completely baffles me why they don’t. I use a Sospender life jacket that cost $200.00 because I do not want to die. You can also get the same type of life jacket for under $100.00. It is well worth the money don’t you think! I hope everyone one is excited for the 2010 fishing season and take time today to have a great fishing trip tomorrow. We will also be airing a new show of Connecticut Outdoors sometime in March and running through April. As always the Team Of Connecticut Outdoors would like to wish everyone the best of luck and good fishing. ______________________________________________ To read The People’s Press, Meriden and Wallingford Ct’s Newspaper in image or pdf form go to www.peoplespressnews.com . We are your NewsMagazine! JURY DUTY… ……an observation by Ernie Larsen I’ve noticed in the past few years that nothing strikes fear in the hearts of able bodied men and women more than a letter from the Jury Commission. Well, something from the IRS would certainly trump a letter about jury duty, I’m sure – but jury duty seems to be a task people could do without. I’m sure there are a bunch of comparisons I could make – but while I’m writing this the curling team from Canada is soundly beating Norway in the gold medal match. Anyway, the call to serve as a juror seems to raise the angst of everyday folks to a level that instills an attitude of utter negativity and creates a mind-set that conjures up some very creative excuses that make “my dog ate my homework” seem primeval. I wondered why – I myself have answered the call and served my civic duty four times since 1972; just figuring it was something you were obligated to do. Never gave it a second thought when I was younger, the first time I served it was before the era of the one day, one trial scenario. Back then, jury duty was a 30 day obligation and I don’t recall many people trying to avoid their responsibility; however now, people seem less inclined to serve and try anything and everything to get out of even showing up to be available for the process. Seeing the lawmakers of CT had the wherewithal to institute a one day – one jury policy back in the 70’s or thereabouts – you really do not have to serve longer than that, well that is if you are not chosen to proceed on a case. Which I was back in ’72 – as I recall, I was picked to be on 3 or 4 cases, none which went all the way where the jury had to decide. Familiar with the term ‘plea bargain’ that was our fate, hearing all the testimony and then the two sides decide out of court – never telling us who got what, etc. And so it went. My other jury experiences were of the one day variety – one in New Haven where I just waited all day – not called for a jury and the other in Meriden, another day making sure the chair in which I was ensconced didn’t go anywhere. Then there was another stint in Meriden when I was chosen for a voir dire that is questioning by both attorneys to decide if they wanted you on the jury for the individual they were either defending or prosecuting. This time I was so lucky - upon entering the courtroom I noticed that both attorneys were acquaintances of mine; no chance for me being chosen to serve and voila, I was excused; the downside I had to wait around until 4:00 PM, why – who knows. My next summons was this past December, just before Christmas. I’ll give the jury commission one thing, they do give ample notice for those who are selected to serve. My reporting date was two months later in February. I was a bit apprehensive as the jury for one of the defendants in the Pettit case from Cheshire was being chosen in the court house where I had to report. So I started to do a bit of research and found out I was acquainted with a couple of the police officers from Cheshire from my freelance photographer days. Then I read the book about the case and found out one of the people who worked in the bank where the defendants forced Mrs. Pettit withdraw money was an acquaintance – I served in the Army with her brother and knew her from my high school days. And I have followed the case and really have made up my mind on the guilt of the two individuals. I figured I would not be chosen; then the defendant took sick and jury selection was suspended, whew! Well, back to the notice - you can plead your case for being dismissed from the jury pool; a medical condition is one of the choices or you can ask for a postponement to a later date. I decided to bite the bullet and filled out the questionnaire and awaited my fate. A week and a half before my designated appearance date I received a Juror Handbook, another questionnaire and directions to the Court and areas where jurors were afforded free parking. I have to say they were not that clear in pinpointing the free lots (I believe this may be one of the major reasons people don’t want to serve, lack of CONVENIENT and free parking) I know this was on my list of negatives for this summons. But, most importantly the mailing contained the phone number for the pre-recorded notice listing those who do not have to report on the designated day. You are instructed to all this number the evening before your service date and it was sort of like having the LOTTO numbers read to you – and if you’re anything like me you weren’t a winner. So, on a cold, bleak snow threatening Friday in February I was to report to the Superior Court at 235 Church Street in New Haven @8:00 A.M. The courthouse is easy enough to reach from Meriden, jump on I-91 south and follow the instructions on your notification from the court. Plenty of parking areas (paid) in the vicinity – I never did see the free ones recommended by the court, Oh well, I used one on Audubon Street; just a couple of blocks from the court house. The court in New Haven has moved since I had been there in the 70’s – now it is in a somewhat sterile, non-descript, government building with no character, well none that I thought outstanding – looked like any other office building on the block. Of course in this time of heightened security there was the mandatory security check – empty the pockets – walk through the metal detector – lo and behold, no surprise, I set it off – I guess it was my belt or suspenders – had to spread my arms and get ‘wanded’. After that and showing my belt etc. I was allowed to proceed to the 9th floor on the Juror Only elevators. This is a huge, I mean HUGE area – enough seating for over, I would say, 200 individuals. Residing in one corner the Jury Office – check in there and take a seat and wait for further instructions. Well, now the jury process takes on a persona that I relate to my stint in the U.S. Army – hurry up and wait! After checking in @7:35 A.M. (always like to be early) now I’m amongst a grouping of my peers waiting to decide the fate of other peers, or so we think. 8:45 A.M. rolls around and the clerk announces a gentleman’s name who will deliver a spiel why we’re there and what is expected of us. And following this pep talk there will be a video explaining the jury system in Connecticut. Our speaker keeps it short; goes over the highlights, tells us where we can and cannot go on our floor and what time we can have lunch - important stuff like that. Then the video – another overview of trial by jury in Connecticut and short spiels by former jurors and judges. So, I’m watching the presentation and recognize one of the judges – she presides in New Britain – really familiar and then I remember – she was on the news late last year – stopped for D.U.I., go figure, so I’m thinking this video is kind of old – and when it concludes the credits show it was made in 2004. I guess with the budget crunch you’ve got to use the old stuff – c’est la vie. Oh yes, and after all this the announcement was “time for break – be back in an hour’. We were allowed to go out of the building or just hang out in the jury area. I chose to stay in – going through security again – nah! Break is over in an hour or so – around 10:00 A.M. a group of people come into the room and check in with the clerk – they were jurors picked for a case the previous day and are reporting for duty. So, it’s now a waiting game – every time some someone walks through the waiting room – 60 or - 70 heads strain to see who is invading ‘their’ territory and if they were like me thinking the person may be a messenger bringing news that would let us be released from playing the waiting game. But, NO, one group was a bunch of lawyers – another just some unidentified court personnel, I reckon. So we wait and wait – newspapers rustling, hushed cell phone (thankfully) conversations – Tweeter’s tweeting – Face Booker’s booking – some sleeping. A foursome plays setback another watches TV – but mostly everyone is in their own little world – waiting patiently for something to transpire. Around 12:45 in comes the clerk with the announcement that there isn’t much action today and we can go to lunch a bit early but have to report back at 2:00. Most everyone relishes the chance of a change of scenery and the possibility of an early ‘retirement’ from this ordeal. I ventured out and found a deli and bought a sandwich and had a bottle of green tea. Then just walked around, it was sunny but a bit chilly so I headed back to the courthouse and around 2:05 the clerk gave us our walking orders. So, the waiting game was over and the letter I just received from the court clerk, I’m not required to do this again for 3 years – I’m keeping that document in a safe place, you betcha! So, that’s the tale of my latest jury duty experience, bearable, got to finish a novel I was reading and met a couple of interesting folks. It really is not that bad and if you are employed it is a day off from the ‘old grind’. Here’s an interesting note; if you’re into serving on a jury pool the court does accept volunteers – just call your local Superior Court and they will hook you up; to each his/her own, eh? Then when I began to write this piece I wondered if the person who coined the phrase ‘the wheels of justice turn slowly’ actually spent some time on jury duty? Think about it! _______________________________________________________________________________ THE THRILL OF COMMUNING WITH NATURE IN TROPICAL CLIMES By Phyllis S. Donovan By the time people get to be my age you'd think it would take an awful lot to actually thrill them. But guess what? The thrills keep coming! Let me tell you about my last off-the-scale delightful adventure. Last month, my husband and I spent some time in the Cayman Islands to take a break from winter. He was pleased that soaking up some tropical sun and swimming in warm waters actually helped relieve his persistent back pain. We didn't even know before we went that there are just three islands in the Cayman group. Cayman Brac and Little Cayman attract the scuba diving thrill seekers while Grand Cayman, where we stayed, boasts gorgeous beaches and less strenuous water sports...along with lovely shops, expensive restaurants and the ubiquitous banks which helped earn its reputation. (A recent television series suggested that the Caymans are particularly noted for scuba diving and tax evasion. But neither figured into our plans which were far less demanding. Our bodies aren't robust enough for scuba diving and our finances aren't robust enough to warrant tax evasion.) But back to my big thrill which involved getting into the water with 20 or 30 stingrays -- many measuring almost four feet across -- and actually frolicking with the graceful creatures. These particular Southern Stingrays, I should point out, are not the lethal kind which resulted in Australian naturalist Steve Irwin's untimely death. But when we were in the water and they started gliding silently toward us, I did wonder what I'd let myself in for. Actually, the catamaran trips run by Red Sail Sports (which booked trips right from our hotel out to the stingray sandbar) rank right up there as special things to do in Grand Cayman. The story goes that in earlier days, Cayman fisherman would stop at a certain sandbar off the island's coast to clean their fish before coming back into port. The stingrays caught on that there was great food pickings near the sandbar so gathered there for the leavings. Years later, they still hang out there looking for food. Now they are protected by the government which forbids tourists from feeding them but old habits die hard. As soon as the catamaran set anchor and we were allowed to climb down the back ladder into the waist deep water on the sandbar, the rays moved right in to investigate. With eyes on top of their triangle heads and a mouth on the underside, they can't see what they're eating but clearly wanted to check us out. The biggest ones are female, and very inquisitive, bumping against our legs and raising a flipper to touch us. They were sandpapery feeling on the top side but their white underbellies were silky smooth. We were warned to pat them like a cat, from head to tail, as they each have a sharp barb that lies flat above their tail which could cause a painful puncture. The males and young rays are more shy and tend to swim deeper in the water, but we were surrounded by the big females who seemed to enjoy the encounter as much as we did. The fewer people in the water, the friendlier they got. We were so enchanted by them that we were the very last ones to reluctantly clamber back onto the boat. For more information about swimming with stingrays, check out: www.redsailcayman.com. On another day, we went out to the Cayman turtle farm at Boatswain Beach. Here they nurture and raise the great sea turtles which, at one point, were close to extinction as they were hunted for food. There they collect and care for the eggs laid on the beaches by the female turtles, protecting them from birds and other predators which decimate not only the eggs but dine on the baby turtles when they hatch out. Pens around the premises hold turtles of varying sizes from the smallest youngsters in one tank up through the middle size older turtles right up to the large full-grown turtles ready for mating. Since these turtles can live to be over 100 years old, this farm is already nurturing several generations of turtles to eventually be released into the sea. Earlier in the month, on a Caribbean cruise with my sister, we had visited a butterfly farm on St. Martin. (Yes, we know there's a butterfly farm right up I-91 in Massachusetts, but we wanted to see the tropical varieties.) There we were toured through netted areas where rainbow-hued butterflies and moths flitted about and chrysalises hung from branches of host trees whose leaves were favored by the caterpillar stage of the different varieties. The butterflies and moths prefer different natural foods, we learned. Like our monarch butterflies prefer milkweed, some tropical kinds like banana or lime leaves. Protective coloring and markings are of top importance to the otherwise defenseless butterfly or moth. One gorgeous butterfly had wings with markings like owl's eyes to discourage predators while the giant Atlas Moth sported what looked like miniature eagle heads on the ends of its wings. We were encouraged, when we got home, to plant things in our yards which would appeal to and attract butterflies. For anyone interested in doing this, the information is available on their website: www.thebutterflyfarm.com. Both in St. Martin and later at Grand Turk we had time to do some snorkeling and saw firsthand how unhealthy the Caribbean reefs are becoming. We didn't see anywhere near the numbers and varieties of the colorful reef fish we had seen as recently as five years ago and the reefs themselves looked cloudy and disintegrating. Concerted efforts are now underway to reverse this change and try to save these dying reefs. We only hope they are not too late. On a side trip on St. Thomas, we visited the St. Peter Great House and Botanical Gardens high on a hilltop looking out over the Virgin Island chain. The house gave a rare insight into the more gracious side of island living but the grounds really captured our fancy, with a small stream splashing through a veritable rain forest filled with all kinds of exotic flowering plants. Along the way, tall jungle-style cages held preening lovebirds, lemon-crested cockatoos and brilliantly colorful macaws. One especially industrious macaw named Sandy was so intent on ripping strips of wood off his cage with his formidable beak, he couldn't be bothered to pose to have his photo taken. Later, as we relaxed at the outdoor refreshment bar, one of the cockatoos, perched prettily on his keeper's shoulder, devoured a whole banana, bite by dainty bite. When our cruise ended in Port Everglades, we took a bus back to my sister's winter place in St. Petersburg crossing the old Alligator Alley, now the east-west portion of I-75. From the bus, we had almost a bird's eye view of the adjoining everglades waterways, filled with large white heron, black cormorants and occasionally a great blue heron. We had naturally also been on the lookout for alligators, expecting them to be large brownish green critters. Once we were told that the big black logs we'd been seeing strewn along the water's edge were actually the alligators, we saw too many to count on our trip west to Naples. What did we know, two kids from the Berkshire Hills who had never seen alligators in the wild before. To us, this was another thrill we couldn't have experienced at home. The next week, we visited long-time friends in Punta Gorda (the same couple who introduced us several years ago to the charming, diminutive burrowing owls who were later featured in the movie, "Hoot.") This time, they had another natural wonder to share with us. At a nearby town park, a pair of bald eagles had built a nest on top of a warped tree not even as tall as a telephone pole. One baby eagle had hatched out in the large, scraggly nest and although people come regularly to watch its progress, the two adult birds take turns guarding the nest and searching the area for food to bring back to their eaglet. When we were there, he was big enough to be seen sitting up there in the nest and gobbling up whatever the parents brought to him. The wonder was that the trio paid no attention to the people who regularly camped out nearby to watch them as they went about their daily lives, free in the wild. We came home from this trip reassured that nature, in all its forms, is indeed wonderfully amazing and we should do all we can to help preserve and nurture it for our grandchildren and generations to come to marvel over and enjoy. __________________________________________________________________ “Sheltering an Animal’s Perspective” by Gregory M. Simpson Have you ever felt drawn to another time and place you have never visited? As a reluctant traveler, there are no places I desire to visit, save one – Egypt, more specifically, Bubastis, the site of the ancient temple of the cat goddess, Bastet. Today, it is called Tell Basta and is in the eastern delta. The Cat in Ancient Egypt, by Jaromir Malek, describes that the earliest known remains of a cat in ancient Egypt come from the period before 4,000 B.C. Here the bones of a man were unearthed who had been buried with a cat, perhaps his pet. Mummified cats do not appear before the first millennium B.C. My favorite birthday outing is to visit the Metropolitan Museum of Art in Manhattan to view these cat mummies and other Egyptian antiquities. My wife patiently lets me marvel – or shall I say obsess – over my “connection” to these artifacts from thousands of years ago. Cats stand alone as the animal that domesticated itself. As it moved first into communities and then into homes to kill rodents which threatened grain supplies, it became a beloved pet, and eventually a deity. The mutually beneficial relationship between cats and people dates back to 4000-2000 B.C. By 2000-1000 B.C., the cat was fully domesticated as a companion animal in the Egyptian household. Besides statues, they were depicted on many items, including necklaces, vase handles, rattles, amulets, cosmetic jars, pins, and plaques. Any likeness of Bastet, the cat goddess, was believed to bring good luck. By 1000 – 350 A.D., cats were seen as manifestations of certain deities, especially Bastet, and cats were bred in large quantities in temple catteries. Bastet, or Bast, as she was also called, was a goddess believed to respond to personal situations and crises related to healing, intuition, protection, joy, pleasure, fertility, generosity, marriage, sensuality, and sexuality. It was during the Ptolemaic period of 332-30 B.C. that the cat’s popularity reached its peak in Egypt, where it was a familiar sight in most homes. Its popularity surpassed that of any other animal. Egyptians’ love of cats, and belief in the divinity of even household felines, was shown in many ways. The Greek historian, Herodotus, wrote that when an Egyptian house caught fire, those who lived there were more concerned about their cat’s safety than their possessions. He also noted that when a cat died, the inhabitants of a house would shave their eyebrows in mourning. Family members lamented loudly for hours. The cat would then be either embalmed and buried or placed in a sarcophagus, depending on the wealth of its owners. Cat cemeteries throughout Egypt date from 900 B.C. and it is estimated that hundreds of thousands, if not millions of cats, are buried there. When Herodotus visited Egypt in the mid-fifth century B.C., he found that anyone who intentionally killed a cat was put to death. Even an accidental killing was punished by whatever penalty the temple priests selected. Anyone finding a dead cat in the street would avoid it, for fear of being suspected in its death. In 59 B.C., a visiting Roman accidentally killed a cat with his chariot and was lynched by an angry mob. Even the intercession of Egyptian King Ptolemy could not save him. It was told that the Persian conqueror, Cambyses, shielded his troops in battle with cats, resulting in the Egyptians losing a key battle for fear of harming the cats. Thousands of years later, the cat still fares well in Egypt, where people are fond of cats and mostly treat them kindly. There are established charities to care for cats, the best known being that of the Sultan Baibars (1260-1277 A.D.), who left a garden near his mosque for the upkeep of Cairo cats. The streaks of yellow and cream fur of the Egyptian cat are described as the marks left when the Prophet Mohammed stroked it. It is said that he cut off a sleeve of his cloak rather than disturb a sleeping cat. For most of my life, I have been fascinated with Egypt and dedicated to the welfare of cats. Could it be that my devotion is the result of an earlier life in ancient Egypt? If you believe in reincarnation, it just may be so. Gregory Simpson’s animal welfare involvement spans over 25 years, having provided leadership for several Connecticut organizations, as well as having served as state advisor to the national Friends of Animals. Currently a Board member of Protectors of Animals, Inc., he was chosen by CAT FANCY magazine as one of the ultimate cat lovers in the U.S. He is also a member of the Cat Writers’ Association. __________________________________________________________________________________ To read The People’s Press, Meriden and Wallingford Ct’s Newspaper in image or pdf form go to www.peoplespressnews.com . We are your NewsMagazine! SATs, ACTs, Finals and More! Does your teen start biting her nails to the bone at the thought of the impending spring testing frenzy? The obvious clue around our house is a lack of erasers. By late April, each and every pencil has lost the little pink thing at the end. This is the time of year when the pressures of back to back finals and standardized college entrance exams are enough to send the most confident teen into a tail spin. However, with the right preparation, your teen will realize that tests are nothing to lose sleep over. Is your teen suffering from “test anxiety” or is he simply a bit nervous? Mike Malmon-Berg, Ph.D., a psychologist and Coordinator of Mental Health Services at The College of Wooster in Wooster, Ohio, explains, “Test anxiety is a specific condition that results from the fear of a negative evaluation. It is similar to the anxiety experienced by employees who are about to be reviewed by a supervisor.” Malmon-Berg reports that virtually everyone experiences some form of nervousness while taking exams, but approximately 20% of students suffer from test anxiety, which he says is characterized by two distinct symptoms. Malmon-Berg describes the first as “a level of angst that is disproportionate to the actual threat or consequences.” The second characteristic is “a degree of distraction that has a significant negative effect on the individual's performance.” Parents shouldn’t feel helpless. There are many ways you can help your teen put testing in perspective. Malmon-Berg points out, “Parents can help in several ways. The first is to realize that their job is to help take pressure off their teen, not add to it with demands and quotas.” He warns not to make comments such as “Your college future depends on this grade.” He also adds, “Ironically, most students who experience test anxiety tend already to be fairly high achievers who put undue pressure on themselves. Parents can help by providing a perspective.” Malmon-Berg suggests that parents offer encouraging comments such as “You've always done well in this subject” or “I believe in you, even if sometimes you don't believe in yourself.” He explains, “These will go a long way toward taking a bit of the edge off.” He also advises that parents use humor to take the excess seriousness out of the situation. He suggests that parents remind their teen that one test is not life or death and that a less than desirable grade can be made up for in many other ways. Even if your teen doesn’t have severe test anxiety, she will still benefit from any assistance and encouragement you can give, along with trying out specific strategies which will help ease her nerves before, during, and after the big test: Before: · Don’t cram – prepare well in advance with multiple study sessions · Ask for help (from your teacher, professor, or competent student) · Time yourself on practice tests to ease your worry about time constraints · Lightly review an outline of basic facts shortly before the exam · Prepare your body: a good night’s sleep and a healthy breakfast go a long way · College entrance exams: enroll in a test preparation class During: · Take a deep breath · Use positive “self talk” · Scan the entire test briefly so there are no surprises as you go along · Take your time and check your work After: · Take a walk · Plan to go somewhere afterwards to take your mind off the test · Keep mistakes and grades in perspective – what’s the worst that can happen? TIPS AND TALES (from Teens) “Most teachers take a lot of what they put on the tests and quizzes right into the exam. Look over previous tests to see what you did wrong and correct them. The morning of the exam, and before going to school, I take 10 to 15 minutes to rehash the things that I studied.” Ammon Doney – Essex Junction, VT – 17 “I try not to over-cram my brain because I know I will lose all the material in my head. The one thing that I do that really calms me down and helps me out is chew gum. For some reason that always relaxes me.”Sammy Giansante – Berlin, NJ - 16 Want to share your ideas? Upcoming topic: Vacations that teens love…they’ll even go with you! Please send your full name, address, and brief comments to: myrnahaskell@gmail.com Or visit: http://home.roadrunner.com/~haskellfamily/myrna/ _____________________________________________________________________________ Home Country Slim Randles When little Jimmy Crispin walked away from his home the other day, it was an earth-shaking calamity. Jimmy is three, you see, and Cheryl Crispin, his mom, is really a good mother, but we all know how quick a three-year-old can be. It was cold, and all he had was a sweater over his regular clothes. Blue-and-white. Knitted for him by his grandmother in the city. Within an hour, it was on the radio stations in the valley. The high school closed at noon so students could help in the search. Steve and Dud saddled horses to hunt for the boy down along the river. By lunch time, we had been informed by reporters just what Jimmy had for breakfast, what color shoes he was wearing, a good description including a small scar on his left ankle, and what are his favorite things to eat. At the barber shop and down at the Curl Up ‘N Dye beauty salon, Jimmy was the only topic of conversation. Jimmy’s plight replaced even the weather and political discussions at the Mule Barn and the garage. At least two local churches unlocked their doors so people could stop by and pray for the little boy’s safe return, and ladies from one church and the Ladies Literary League took hot dishes over to the Crispin house for the family. About eight o’clock that night, Mrs. Shepherd went out in her backyard to see what her dog was barking at, and found little Jimmy huddled in a corner of her garage. He was cold and hungry and crying, but he was all right. By eight thirty, everyone in the valley knew about it and gave prayers of thanks. On the other side of the world, a disaster claimed tens of thousands of lives later that night. But in the morning, all we talked about was Jimmy. We all know a three-year-old boy. None of us knows tens of thousands of people. We’ll just send some money and prayers and say isn’t that a shame. ----------- Brought to you by The Long Dark, An Alaska Winter’s Tale. Available at www.slimrandles.com. To read The People’s Press, Meriden and Wallingford Ct’s Newspaper in image or pdf form go to www.peoplespressnews.com . We are your NewsMagazine! ICE from Audrey Cable Linke I never saw Dad cut ice, but my friend, LeRoy Hibbard, remembers seeing him and a crew of three or four men cutting ice on the pond below our house, next door to the Hibbards. LeRoy told me he saw Dad using a team of oxen pulling the blocks of ice up the hill to a shoot. The ice then went down the shoot to be loaded and taken up to the icehouse near Church's barn. The icehouse was in the shape of a corncrib and was probably built for that purpose originally. The layers of ice were covered with sawdust, which kept the ice from melting. Dad used an ice pick to cut into the size blocks he wanted, then carried the ice with ice tongs to our house and to the kitchen of his boss, Stephen B. Church, whose business was drilling wells. Ray remembers going for ice with his little red wagon. The Linkes lived on Lilac Street in New Haven, and Ray, with a sister or two, went to the icehouse on Bassett Street to buy a piece of ice. The iceman would take a pick, chop a line across the ice and then tap it, the piece of ice would fall off the larger chunk exactly right. A ten-cent piece of ice would last the family the best part of a week.. My friend, Al Semmler, who grew up in Seymour, told about his first job, the winter after he graduated from high school in 1932. The depression was in full swing and jobs were impossible to find, but he heard they were hiring at Clark's pond in Woodbridge where ice was being cut. Al and his friend walked from Seymour to Woodbridge in the dark, at least five miles, as they had to be there before dawn; both were hired. Al's job was to guide the chunks of ice as they came toward the bridge, shoving them under the bridge with a long pole with a hook on it. My brother-in-law, Jack Randel, got ice from Crowfoots, on the corner of the Oxford Road and West Street in Oxford. The Randels lived on Chestnut Tree Hill, summers. Jack would go for the ice with his goat wagon, riding in the wagon on the way to get the ice and part way back after he got it. Then he'd get out of the wagon when he and the goat got to the hill. The goat was trained and all Jack had to do was steer it. Jack said the cart was similar to the one in the picture (not shown), but the seat was raised, like a western wagon you see in old movies. Jack lived in New York City during the school year and told how there were no elevators in apartment buildings with less than seven floors. People who wanted ice had a sign with big numbers on it. They would place the sign in a window with the numbers showing what size piece was needed. They could buy a ten-cent piece, a 25-cent piece, a 15-cent piece, or perhaps a 50-cent piece. The iceman would look up to the sixth floor windows, try to see the number on the sign, then lug the ice up to the apartment on the sixth or whatever floor the sign was on. A man could only carry two chunks of ice at a time so he climbed many a stairway to fulfill his job. An icebox was usually a rather handsome piece of furniture, made of wood and lined with tin. Ice was kept in the upper part of the icebox, put in from the top. The lower part of the cabinet had shelves where food was kept. As the ice melted, the pan under the icebox was emptied, usually once a day. As our block of ice melted we put jars of homemade root beer next to it. That root beer was a welcome, delicious, refreshing drink for Dad when he came in from cutting brush or hay, and we all enjoyed it with our supper. Ice was used to make homemade ice cream. The ice cream mixture was placed in a cylinder and the cylinder was placed in a wooden container. Crushed ice was added around the cylinder and coarse salt was added to help melt the ice---melting ice is what made the mixture get cold. Then the dasher in the cylinder was cranked by hand until the creamy mix became hard to move. The lid was then removed, the dasher taken out, and the cylinder returned to the ice where the ice cream continued to jell. This fabulous dessert was served on the Fourth of July and other special occasions. No ice cream ever tasted better than that, ever! Just thinking about it makes me smile. ___________________________________________________________________ “Maggie’s Corner” Make Room for “Oliver” By: Maggie Griffin If tears could build a stairway and memories a lane, I’d walk right up to Heaven and bring all my dogs and cats home again. I know they are happy, being in a better place, but think of all those dogs and cats that are still here waiting to have a loving home. I always do, and now I am going to tell you why. Since as long as I can remember, my love for animals was, and always will be, something special to me. From my first family dog when I was six years old, Tori, to my Cat Teresa that my Great - Uncle Frank and cousin Angelo gave me, my birds Fred and Ginger, then Tweedy, my Mini-poodles; Murphy and Tasha , and of course my adorable Beagle, Ben. To conclude; I certainly won’t leave out the guinea pigs. Let’s not forget there was Daisy, the goat my Dad won for wearing the best costume. All of those animals mean so much to me, still to this day. Remembering when my parents brought Tori home, they were out visiting someone who had a litter of puppies. When my parents came home, my Dad was holding an open paper bag and told us all to get in the family room as he and Mom had a surprise for us. He then placed the paper bag down very carefully and out came Tori, a Poodle/Terrier mix. When I was in second grade, Tori took a long walk, for two weeks, and how my entire family was so heartbroken and worried, even Mom cried for days, but we never gave up hope. My Dad placed ads in the paper constantly, until one night, at dinner time; the North Haven Animal Shelter called and said “We have a dog that fits this description”. At that time, it was closing hours, but the man heard our cry to let us all come down and see if that was our Tori. He let us. We all stopped what we were doing, left the dinner on the table and drove to the Animal Shelter. Sure enough, it was Tori. How I missed him, I was so happy to see Tori, looking into his Angel Eyes. That night we took him home. My Mom gave him a nice warm bath and a home cooked meal. Tori lived a long time, he was there when I got married, and he was there when I had my first child. Naturally, when I turned 22 years old, Tori passed away of natural causes. Then for me, along came Murphy, a dog my husband and I adopted who was a full breed mini-poodle. We adopted him from a nice couple in Hamden who had to find Murphy a nice home because they just had a child and Murphy sort of had a hard time accepting that. Well, after Murphy, we wanted him to have a friend, so we adopted Tasha, another mini-poodle, as a puppy. When the two met, it was love at first site for Murphy. I thought to myself, “What a wonderful world for them”. Together they ate, walked, played, slept; all the things two dogs do together. But in 1999, Murphy passed away of a sudden stroke and again, it devastated me, my kids and even Tasha as she was alone without her companion and partner in mischief. My kids were little and like me they were heartbroken when Murphy died. I told my children at that time “God needed Murphy now to guard the gates of Heaven”. Following, I saw an ad in a local paper for another mini-poodle, but when I called, the poodle was already adopted. However during that same call, the North Haven Animal Shelter told me they just took in a Beagle. My son being; four years old; and my daughter turning 7 at that time, they begged me “Mommy please, can we see the dog”. Off we went. Ben (whose previous name was Taco) was left out during a tropical storm from his previous owner who took a vacation. He was left with no food, no water, in a yard on a busy street. A good person who had a huge heart called the animal shelter to take him in, as I was told, this happened to him more than once from his previous owner. Not knowing who made that call, I knew I had to take Ben and give him the love and attention he deserved. Although his previous name was “Taco”, he didn’t look like a taco to me or my kids. How did we change his name to Ben? Simple, Tommy named him. Prior to meeting “Taco”, that same week when Murphy passed away, my son enjoyed watching the movie “Ben” and loved the song “Ben” sung by young Michael Jackson at that time. Tommy being only 4 years old, heartbroken and lost without Murphy, he cared so much about Taco knowing he was left behind by what he called “a mean lady that left him in the cold and rain”. Tommy re-named “Taco” to be an official “Ben”. The difference in reference to the movie was to us Ben is a dog, not a mouse like in the movie. Ben took to his new name very quickly, learned so many tricks and he and my son were inseparable. If you ever heard the song “Ben”, then you’d understand why my son, at four years old at the time with a BIG heart, felt why his new dog’s name had to be “Ben”. Ben had a lot of spunk in him. The first thing my daughter, Stephanie, gave him was a red bandana to wear and her Disney Bean bag chair to lie on. Tasha was happy to have Ben be a part of our family as she too grieved the loss of Murphy in her own way as animals do. Then we moved to a larger home in 2002. In 2003, along came Harley, a Boxer/Doberman Mix. She is such a Powder Puff, a lovable dog that loves to talk to her neighbors every day. Given she is 65 pounds now; Harley is a dog who is over friendly. She gets on her hind legs to tell you she wants to give you a hug. Very smart, she then was trained to help me during my battle of cancer. How did I get Harley? A friend of one of my clients told me about a litter of three, Harley being the little ball of snuggle out of that litter. The owner of the litter sent me a picture of Harley knowing how much I love animals. She then asked me if I would like to adopt Harley. I said, yes. Off to West Haven with my kids and my niece to pick up Harley. Harley loves the water, so much so we needed to buy her a kiddy pool for the summer months. How did Harley get her name? Simple, when I brought her home, the first thing my husband did was look at her paws and said was “She is going to be a large dog”. But prior to that, he was talking about getting a Harley Davidson. Therefore, Tom being concerned about the size of how big the dog would get and wanting a Harley at the same time, compromising was the best option. Tom got his Harley and she is 65 pounds of a bundle of love. Since 2003 to 2009, we have three dogs. Amazing how our family pets all got along. My oldest sister would call my pets “The Welcoming Committee” whenever she entered my home. Harley apparently is the president of the Welcoming Committee. But recently, back in September of 2009, Tasha the mini-poodle passed away at the age of 18 of simple old age. February of 2010, Ben passed away at the age of 13 of congestive heart failure. As a family, we all took care of them to the end because the fact is all our pets are a big part of our family. I cried for months about Tasha and I prayed so hard that she found Murphy in Heaven. I have to admit, I am still crying about Ben now too. But prior to Ben passing away, after Tasha, irony in a few things took place. In between Tasha’s passing and Ben’s passing, about a month ago, I saw a beautiful Black Lab/Dalmatian mix. I was leaving a property I was showing at that time in Wallingford and saw him right in the middle of the fork of the road on Parker Farms Road where you would turn onto Hope Hill. I stopped and just looked at him for a moment. Seeing how he looked at me with those big brown eyes and how clean he was, I knew I had to help this dog. I guess he lost his collar along the way. I immediately put on my hazards, got out of the car where the fork to the road is on Parker Farms, while the driver behind me was very patient, she probably assumed I was trying to get a dog that belonged to me, when in actuality; I stopped to help this dog. Easily this dog jumped into my car, which I was very happy about, that told me the dog loves to ride in the car and I knew even all the more that he is trained and he has a family that is looking for him; and must be worried about him. At that moment, I thought about the time when I was in second grade when Tori was missing and how my family and I felt, worrying and missing him so much. I somehow knew the family who owned this dog was feeling those same feelings of worry and missing him. As I was driving, I noticed this dog licking my back seat. That told me he was hungry. So while I was on the road, I called my office and asked them to call The Wallingford Animal Shelter, where they spoke to Dean, to let them know I am on my way with a dog and how I found him. But I wasn’t going to let this dog go hungry, therefore, being hungry myself, we went through the drive thru at Subway since it was on the way to the Wallingford Animal Shelter. I have to admit, I had the best lunch date that entire month just eating subs in the car with this dog. He had a cold cut combo on wheat, no turkey. Wow - did he eat it. As I was feeding him, and talking to him, I had to give him a name. So I called him “Bruce”. I told him that I can tell he has a family that is missing him and they are looking for him, but not to worry, he will be home with his family. He perked up his ears when I said “Family”. We finished our lunch and proceeded to The Wallingford Animal Shelter where they were waiting my arrival with the Dog. Dean was there. Not even a minute went by and Dean said to me “I just received a call and a flyer through the fax machine that matches the description of this dog”. I asked Dean “Is there a name for the dog on the flyer”? He said, “Yes, his name is Monkey”. So I stood a while and kept calling the dog by the name on the flyer. Every time I called his name “Monkey”, he wagged his tail and came right to me. Meanwhile, Dean was on the phone with the owner and the owner was on his way to see if in fact that was his dog. Sure enough, that was his dog and Monkey is so happy to go home to his family. Meanwhile, Ben was getting worse in his condition, so we knew. Ben passed away peacefully in my husband’s arms on February 5th. He was our little buddy, tears from our eyes flowed upon him while he peacefully passed on. How he loved to jump for a Milk Bone and give paw, just like Tasha and Murphy. His favorite thing was his Big Teddy Bear stuff animal, tennis balls and my socks. But with Ben passing away, now the loss of two dogs in less than 6 months really took its toll on my entire family, including Harley. Two days later, I opened the Advisor and saw an ad for a Dog looking for a home. Talk about repeat history. That dog was spoken for already, but Erin at The Animal Haven in North Haven told me “we just took in a Toy poodle, would you like to see him”? There was no doubt in my mind I had to see this dog that they named “Angelo”, after his previous owner who recently passed away. On February 7th, my husband and I went to see “Angelo”. Before us was another couple looking at Angelo and how I started to cry. Every Dog I looked at, a majority were already been spoken for, that is how much love, care and attention the animal shelters give to all of these pets, you can see it in the eyes of a Dog and a Cat. But there is the coincidence about this dog, the poodle, they named after the owner who passed away. I felt strongly in my heart I had to take him home, I just knew he had to live in my home. Immediately, we went home to pick up Harley to meet Angelo. They clicked. Following, I started signing of the adoption papers. However, like Ben, I told my family “He does not look like an Angelo, what should we name him”? My daughter then said “Oliver”. I asked my husband, since February 7th was his birthday, if he wanted to name the dog. He then said, “I like the name Oliver and we can also call him Ollie for short”. There was really something there, an immediate connection with Oliver. Turns out, Oliver, who they called Angelo at The Animal Haven because it was the name of his previous owner who passed away, turned out to be the same Angelo that is my Mother’s cousin; who he and his Dad, my great-uncle, also gave me my cat that I named “Teresa” after my God Mother, when I was 10 years old. My Great-Uncle Frank and Cousin Angelo and my Great-Aunt, all of whom lived in the same house, knew how much I love animals since I as far back as I can remember. How did I find out he was my Mom’s cousin’s Dog? I got all of Oliver’s paper work from the previous vets he went to, that is how I knew he was my Mother’s cousin’s dog. And knowing my Mother’s cousin, there was no doubt in my mind Oliver loves Italian Food and listening to guitar music as I took my lessons to play my guitar from my Great-Uncle Frank. My mother just couldn’t believe this. How incredible and coincidental this was since I have not seen her cousin Angelo in 20 years. I didn’t even know he passed away until my Mom told me during all of this. I can be certain now that my Mom’s cousin heard my prayer and saw my tears over my dogs Tasha and Ben. Faith has is how I ended up with his dog. Oliver, being so small, can certainly jump heights, walk on his two hind legs and he just loves to tease Harley. He likes to be the boss. He is 8 pounds who enjoys going up to Harley and lick her nose, hop on her chair while she is on it and pushes her aside as if he was saying “Make Room for Oliver”. Please, find it in your heart to give a dog or a cat a loving home, faith is one good reason why. Animals give us unconditional love and they communicate with humans simply by their eyes and actions. There are so many dogs and cats just waiting to be adopted. Donations are needed as well to these animal shelters, donations like dog or cat food, blankets, dishes, monetary to help keep these shelters running and caring for all those loving pets. They are God’s creatures too and they need you. I will always love and miss all my pets that moved on and up to Animal Heaven, and I am thankful for the happiness they all gave to me and my family. But to me, giving another Dog a loving home is something I knew in my heart was worth more than 200% sure. When someone shows 100% love to an animal, those animals love you back 200% in return, unconditional love that is. I’d like to thank The Animal Haven in North Haven, CT again, Ridge Hill Animal Hospital in North Haven for caring for all my pets, The Wallingford, CT Animal Shelter for bringing Monkey back to his home, Meriden Humane Society and all of the Animal Shelters in CT. Most of all, like the person who finally helped Ben just by caring enough for him and called the Animal Shelter back in 1999 because he was left out for over a week during a tropical storm; remember, don’t be afraid to help an animal you see needs help; they tell you through their eyes. Our Animal Control Officers take good care of Animals that are in need of help, love and care. Most of all, they will bring those Animals home again; whether they are missing from a loving family or need a loving family to call their own. There is a reason why a pet needs a loving home. Just look at my experience. Especially the thought that Oliver was already family before he came to live with my family. If I had my way, I’d adopt more animals, but then I’d have to find my Husband a Loving Home. Please find it in your heart to help by adopting a pet, donate, anything you can do. We, as humans, can talk for our loving animals and help them. Visit: www.TheAnimalHaven.com , www.wallingfordanimalshelter.com , www.petfinder.com/shelters/CT20.html . See the pets they are advertising on their sites, looking for a loving home. These shelters are known to be places where friendships are made. Trust me; call them too, there are more dogs and cats at all the shelters in Connecticut, and every state for that matter. New dogs and cats arrive every day. Donations are a very big help as well. These shelters can provide you a list of donations they accept to keep these shelters running and these animals fed and warm until they find good homes for these lovable animals who want a place in your heart where they will always be there to say to you “welcome home”. And thank you God for giving me all the pets that are now with you guarding the gates of Heaven, they know how much they are still loved and missed, still to this day. Thank you Cousin Angelo for making sure I adopted your dog. In your way, you lead me to him. I promise to continue to play the guitar to him and once and a while treat him to Italian meatballs. I would like to share with you, something someone sent to me, not once, but twice, to honor of my love for my family pets through the years; and all the pets of my family members, for the life they lived and the happiness they gave. This came to me after Tasha, my mini-poodle, passed away, then again recently when Ben passed away. I need people to know, as a Real Estate Professional, home certainly is where the heart is, even for our loving pets. This letter, when reading it a second time, brought Oliver home to my family all the more. To my Dearest Family, There are some things I'd like to say. But first of all, to let you know, I arrived to Heaven okay. Here I dwell with God above. Here, there are no more tears of sadness; here is just eternal love. Please do not be unhappy just because I am out of your site. Remember that I am with you every morning, noon and night. That day, I had to leave you, when my life on earth was through; God picked me up and hugged me. God said to me, "I welcome you. It's good to have you back again; you were missed while you were gone. As for your dearest family, they'll be here later on. I need you here badly; you're a part of my plan. There is so much we have to do, to help our mortal man." God gave me a list of things that he wished for me to do. And foremost on the list is to watch and care for you. When you lie in bed at night after your day's chores are put to flight, God and I are closest to you...in the middle of the night. When you think of my life on earth, and all those loving years, because you are only human, they are bound to bring you tears. But do not be afraid to cry; it does relieve the pain. Remember there would be no flowers, unless there was some rain. I wish that I could tell you what God has planned. If I were to tell you, you wouldn't understand. But one thing is for certain, though my life on earth is over, I'm closer to you now, than I ever was before. There are many rocky roads ahead for you and many hills to climb; but together we can do it by taking one day and step at a time. It was always my philosophy, as your family pet, what you give unto the world; the world will give to you. If you can help another dog, cat or any animal that’s in sorrow and pain; then you can say to God at night...."My day was not in vain." Now I am content. I want you to know that my life with you was worthwhile just knowing as I passed along the way I made you smile. So if you meet another dog or cat, any animal that is sad and feeling low; just lend a hand to pick them up, as on your way you go. When you're walking down the street and you've got me on your mind; that’s only because I'm walking in your footsteps only half a step behind. And remember when it's time for you to go...from your body to be free. Remember you're not going....you're coming here to be with me. ~ Anonymous _____________________________________________________________________________________ To read The People’s Press, Meriden and Wallingford Ct’s Newspaper in image or pdf form go to www.peoplespressnews.com . We are your NewsMagazine! Dear Housewives Dear Readers, Do you have a question regarding family life, budgeting, customer service issues, DVD or book reviews, or home organization? We will give you our candid advise from a family perspective. Contact The Peoples Press by e-mail or phone with your confidential question andwe will answer it in the next issue.June and Flora Dear Housewives,I can't share this with my friends so I am turning to you, my local 'go to gals'. I am in my late 60's and have grown children. They all went to college and have good jobs that pay well. My husband and I paid for them to attend college and that caused us to still have a mortgage on our home. I regret second mortgaging our home time and again for our children's college. I am still working to enjoy life and to pay my mortgage. Help me get this off my mind or figure out a plan. Thanks ladies. - Retired and tired of working in CT FLORA: If your children do not know that you and your husband still are paying on a mortgage; it's time to tell them. Honestly, I think that children who have the means, should help their elders out. Here is a shout out: If you are reading this and your parents are senior citizens with a mortgage: Here Ye Here Ye. Gather up your siblings to come up with a plan to pool funds to assist your parents. You did not have student loans, but your parents are still struggling; give them a hand. JUNE: I do agree with Flora except I would not say "Here Ye" and I don't know who Flora means by "elders" but I think children of means should help their parents to not have any financial burdens. No one in their late 60's should have to work if their children are living a well off life. Also, there is more than one grown child here so they can all easily pool some money. I say give them this article or come right out and tell them the situation. If you raised them right, they will offer before you can even ask. Dear Housewives, I need some good entertainment, local and fun. Any ideas? - Looking for fun JUNE: Of course, the library always has passes for museums and play places. For adult fun (clean adult fun) try a comedy show. Hartford sometimes have decent headliners visiting or see a big comic at the Oakdale (or whatever it is called now). FLORA: Go to a local church's BINGO night! It is a lot of fun, not expensive and helps a good cause. St.Stan's in Meriden has a fun one on Saturday nights.Bingo is for ALL AGES. JUNE: Great idea Flora!! I know a great girl who works there, all the proceeds benefit the school and all the workers are parents volunteering their time. Every Sat. Games start at 6:30 PM but doors open earlier. Food is sold as well. Anniversary Wishes Dear Andy, Dawn and The People's Press,We are so proud and pleased to be a part of the newspaper. Congratulations on your 125th issue! We wish you much continued success! Sincerely,June and Flora _______________________________________________________________________ Choose Something Like A Star "So when at times the mob is swayedTo carry praise or blame too far,We may choose something like a starTo stay our minds on and be staid." Those are the closing lines in one of my favorite poems by Robert Frost. It has a deeper meaning than I realized when I first became acquainted with this poem, which was in high school when I was in the a cappella choir. Randall Thompson set this poem to music, as well as others by Frost. It seems Frost was actually criticizing contemporary poets of the day, the stars of the time, and asking them to "Say something to us we can learn/ By heart and when alone repeat, " and to "Use language we can comprehend." I think the closing lines of his poem are suggesting that his poems have the requisite elements he is suggesting others have, and we can rely on their steadfast quality, and indeed they have stood the test of time. Robert Frost was a star to me back in 5th grade. I was living in Amherst, Masschusetts, in 1959, and that fall I began 5th grade in a very small school that housed five grades, 1st through 5th, one room for each grade. Mary Whittaker was our teacher, and she was quite young. One of our assignments was to memorize a poem and recite it in front of the class. I chose Birches, a fairly long poem for a 10-year-old to memorize. It's a beautiful poem though, so it was not hard for me to do. Well, it was a little challenging, but I did it. Mrs. Whittaker knew I loved Frost's poetry, and encouraged me to memorize more. I believe it was in the spring of 1960 that Mrs. Whittaker arranged for me, my twin sister Nancy, and one other classmate, Debbie, to attend a reading of poems by Robert Frost himself. Of course, I cannot tell you where this took place, but it seemed like a really large concert hall sort of room. There was a large stage with a podium, and there he was! How the next part was orchestrated, I have no memory of, but I believe Mrs. Whittaker asked if these three little girls could sit on the edge of the stage so that they could see better. I remember we were wearing little frilly kind of dresses and our best shoes, and I can remember sitting on the edge and looking up at this large, old man with white hair. Can you imagine how exciting it was to be sitting a few feet away from my favorite poet? I would not be able to recall exactly which of his poems he recited, but I am almost positive that they included Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Mending Wall, The Road Not Taken, The Gift Outright, and Birches. Listening to Robert Frost that evening was an event which was indelibly etched in my memory. He was and is definitely a star to stay my mind on and be staid.(The Wallingford Public Library has an audiotape entitled "Robert Frost Reads His Poetry" in case you would like to hear him for yourself. [Thanks, Earl, for letting me know.]) Barbara Sherburne barndt49@yahoo.com James Herbert Smith, author of WAH-SAY-LAN, gives a book reading and signing event at the Wallingford Public Library By Priscilla Reynolds The book, WAH-SAY-LAN, is an historic novel, James Smith's first novel, about the history of the Iroquois Indians in the American Revolution. The Community Room at the library was full of men, women and some children on the evening of February 24, 2010. Speaking for myself the author lifted my spirits as he read excerpts from his novel. (The evening seemed gloomy and if it hadn't been for my friends and their kindness in driving me, I would have missed out on an inspiring and interesting talk.) James read excerpts from his book without letting his audience know the whole story. He explained that many of the conversations among the historical figures had actually taken place but perhaps at a different time or place, and the history of the Iroquois was authentic. He has added his own imaginative skills in the journey of his main characters. But even a few of them were based on historical figures. For example, the slave he called Freeman Trentham, had lived in Wallingford, Connecticut. I empathized with the slave when he was litterally dumped in New England and separated from his parents. He could not understand the English language but always recalled the first conversation of the men around him or rather one name mentioned in that conversation of Thomas Jefferson. I'm anxious to read the novel to see if Freeman tries to find Thomas Jefferson. Wah-Say-Lan is a beautiful Seneca woman, just 17 at the beginning of the novel. She is the fictional main character and presents herself as a modern feminist. James Herbert read the first page of the novel that described this beautiful tall woman and the beloved island where the Senecas lived. One can visualize the two main characters, Freeman and Wah-Say-Lan becoming a couple. Many people from the audience asked questions following the book reading. My friend, Margaret, wanted to know the slave's real name and what had actually happened to him. His real identity was Chatham Freeman and Margaret plans to see if his grave lies in Center Street Cemetery. Many were interested in the Rev. Samuel Andrews, also an abolitionist from Wallingford, who confronts George Washington in history and in this novel. James H. Smith is executive editor of the NEW BRITAIN HERALD and the BRISTOL PRESS, and former editor for 14 years at the RECORD JOURNAL. He is a former president of the NEW ENGLAND SOCIETY OF NEWSPAPER EDITORS and a recipient of the distinguished Writing Award from the AMERICAN SOCIETY OF NEWSPAPER EDITORS. James and his lovely wife spent time afterwards talking with the fans and autographing his novel. The library offered everyone coffee or tea and tasty treats. _________________________________________________ Eagles at Hanover Pond Life along the Q River… An Update from the Quinnipiac River Watershed Association For awhile now a pair of mature, bald eagles, along with an occasional juvenile, has been spending time at Hanover Pond in South Meriden. On any given day they can be seen in the large trees on the island in the center of the pond, or else in the many big trees along the edge of the water. Most of the time they are just looking over the area, but every now and then you can see them in action, swooping down into the pond in search of a meal. Other times you can see them gliding on the thermal currents, floating over Hanover Pond with such ease. The bald eagle is our national symbol and has been struggling for survival for the past fifty years. Loss of their habitat and the use of the pesticide, DDT resulted in severely depleted the eagles’ numbers. The American Bald eagle was placed on the ‘Endangered’ species list and was moved to ‘Threatened’ in July of 1995 and through conservation and repopulation efforts was taken off the list in June of 2007. The female, who is about 13 pounds with a wingspan of up to seven feet, is usually 25% bigger than the male, who, by contrast, is about 9 pounds with a five and a half foot wingspan. They have the trademark bald head, which is actually white feathers, with yellow talons and hooked beak and that takes about four years to achieve maturity, with a lifespan of twenty years. According to QRWA President, Ginny Chirsky, “Because of the tremendous efforts to restore the Quinnipiac River throughout the state, Hanover Pond has now become a feeding ground for the eagles, who feed primarily on fish, small animals and water fowl. These big, beautiful birds would not hang around if there was not a substantial food source, which is a result of cleaner water.” Both eagles may not be there for long. Bald eagles mate for life and in CT courtship begins in January. With any luck they will be nesting one to three eggs, usually two, that will a hatch sometime in April to May. Their nest, which is called an aerie, is quite large and estimated at five feet wide by 2 feet deep. The nest needs a large and strong tree to sustain the weight of the nest and eagles. Large branches are used to make the nest and it is lined with twigs, grass, and moss. One bird sits on the eggs all the time to keep them warm while the other scouts for food. Both parents will take turn feed the baby eagles, which are called eaglets, a diet of mostly fish, which is eaten by the parent and regurgitated into the mouths of their young. When the babies are about three months old they will begin to fly and search for their own food. They will stay in the nest until the end of the summer and then leave to find their own feeding area. According to Mary Mushinsky, “In 2007, we celebrated the first record of bald eagles nesting on the Quinnipiac River in North Haven. They raised two young. The following year, the eagles abandoned the nest upon the start of construction for the North Haven Commons shopping mall.” Mushinsky continues, “QRWA volunteers have participated in eagle counts in prior years, and our paddle program interns, along with local residents, have enjoyed the presence of 2 juvenile eagles for the last 2 summers at Hanover Pond.” “Bald eagles in the Quinnipiac River watershed are a beautiful sight to see and give us hope for the future,” adds Peter Picone, CT DEP Wildlife Specialist and QRWA board member. As stewards of the environment we ask you to observe these birds from a distance so as not to disturb them. This is especially true for the nesting areas, as the eagles just want to protect and care for their young. If we respect them, their feeding and nesting areas, these eagles will hopefully consider Hanover Pond their home for a long, long time. Upcoming QRWA Events –April is a busy month with the Annual Fish Stocking at Red Bridge, usually the 3rd week in April just prior to Opening Day for Fishing Season on the 17th. QRWA, along with the Meriden Land Trust and Meriden Conservation Commission will be at the Daffodil Festival at Hubbard Park, April 24-25. Earth Day Celebrations with take place in Hamden and North Haven both on April 24. Please check the website for specific dates and times. The Quinnipiac River Watershed Association (QRWA) is a 501c3 organization whose mission is to restore the Quinnipiac for the health and enjoyment of all citizens and communities along its reach and to educate all students, families, individuals, businesses and governments to be informed stewards of the river. We provide water activities, events in education, outreach, advocacy, scientific monitoring, conservation, restoration, recreation and public access to the watershed area. To learn more about the QRWA and future events please visit our website at www.qrwa.org. Thank you for your support and remember your donations are tax deductable. To read The People’s Press, Meriden and Wallingford Ct’s Newspaper in image or pdf form go to www.peoplespressnews.com . We are your NewsMagazine! Our Mother Alyssa Duffourc Mountains crumbling Skies falling Earth cracking What is happening To our mother earth and the people she cares for No one knows why she is angry Oh, But I do, We have hurt our mother earth, Now she is dying Ice melting People Dying Children hurting People crying Too much hurt Too much pain STOP! Stop the hurting Stop the crying Save our mother Save our home Help our mother! We are the only ones who can So what will you do? Please don’t let her wilt Don’t leave her to die. Save our mother For I know that I shall try ______________________________________________________________________________________To To read The People’s Press, Meriden and Wallingford Ct’s Newspaper in image or pdf form go to www.peoplespressnews.com . We are your NewsMagazine! Love’s Perfect Alignment By Diana Lewis Chapter 1 Josie Foster raced across the meadow with her brother, Mark right behind her. “That’s not fair,” he hollered as he galloped up beside her. “You left too quick.” “You’re just a slow poke as usual,” stated Josie. They arrived at the barn as a wagon pulled up in their driveway. Pa wasn’t home so Mark dropped his horses reins and went to see the stranger. “I’m looking for Miss Josephine Foster,“ said the stranger. “And who are you?” asked Mark. “My name Jacob Hammond. Is she available for me to speak with her?” Josie had heard everything that the man had said and she walked forward. “I am Josephine Foster. How can I help you,” she asked. He looked at her up and down because of the way she was dressed, with men’s pants and shirt. “I would like to have a private word with you, if I may.” Curious about what he wanted to talk about she nodded and led the way to the house. Mark wanted to object but he knew it would be no use with his sister, He was curious as well but he’s have to wait for her to tell him what it was all about. “Come, we can use my father’s office.” They stepped in and shut the door, “Is your father not here?” “No, he’s away on a cattle drawn. He won’t be expected back till sometime next week.” “Did he ever tell you that you were adopted?” “Adopted? No, why?” He handed her a copy of her adoption papers and she looked at them. At first she didn’t want to believe it but with the adoption papers in her hands, she had to believe it. “Because you were and your adopted mother has been looking for you for quite sometime. She would like to see you, if you will see her.” “Is she planning to come here?” “If you’d like or I could take you to her.” “Where is she?” “In Idaho, at the moment, on her way here but she lives in Montana.” “When will she be here?” “It shouldn’t be more than a week for her to get here.” Josie didn’t know what to think about all this. She was adopted by Frank Foster and now her birth mother wanted to see her. And with Papa being away, she knew he wouldn’t approve of this meeting. Maybe she should meet this woman herself. “I think it might be best if I went to greet her as she comes, because if she comes when my father returns, there might be problems and I don’t want that. What are her plans when we do meet?” “She would like you to return to Montana with her if you would consider it.” “Alright, what should I bring with me?” “That depends on whether you want to go to Montana or not.” “Montana sounds intriguing. I probably will.” “Then bring whatever you don’t want to leave behind. I just need to know how much it is so I get enough wagons and drivers.” “I guess two should be plenty. I’ll not bring anything that isn’t definitely mine.” “How long do you need to get ready to leave?” “I think I can be ready to leave tomorrow.” “Ten o’clock alright with you?” “Fine, everything will be ready.” They rose from the chairs and Josie escorted Mr. Hammond to the door. “What’s going on?” cried Mark. “I’ll be leaving in the morning,” she simply stated. “Leaving? What are you talking about?” “Mark, did you know I was adopted?” “No, that man told you that?” “Yes, and he showed me the adoption papers. I’m going to see my birth mother.” “Are you coming back?” “Probably not. She wants me to go to Montana with her.” “What’s Pa going to think?” “Well, I’m hurt with him for not telling me I was adopted and I’m eighteen years old, so he can’t really stop me from leaving.” “So, what do you want me to tell him when he comes back and you’re gone.” “Nothing, I will write him a letter and you can give it to him when he gets home.” she stated. “But I need to get busy so I can be ready to leave in the morning.” She walked up the stairs to her room. She found a carpet bag in the closet and started packing her belongings. She pulled out a couple trunks that she spotted in the basement and brought them up and filled them as well. She found some empty boxes u in the attic and filled them as well. She brought open her piggy bank where she’s been saving every penny she got. She counted $200. That would help her get started where she was going. To read The People’s Press, Meriden and Wallingford Ct’s Newspaper in image or pdf form go to www.peoplespressnews.com . 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