April 19, 2007  Soon to Come, I Hope!
 
I haven't been updating the site with any regularity lately. But it's all in good cause. One of my New Year's resolutions was to make some improvements and expansions to the site. The "Joy Camps" project has turned out to be far more involved than I first envisioned. In working on that, however, some problems arose with using the format of the existing site.
 
So it seemed prudent to tackle some behind-the-scenes changes in the site, first.
 
A new test bed will soon appear under the "Favorite Links" banner.
 
I hope that you'll enjoy these new features as well as the subtle transformation of this site. And, please be patient, for I know not what I do.
 
Until later.....DKHT

April 18. 2007  Sadness Reigns
 
The recent killing spree by a demented South Korean student, Cho Seung-Hui, 23, on the campus of Virginia Polytechnic Institute was totally horrific. He was described as being a loner who stalked coeds and had prior experience with mental health treatment.
 
There was the murderous rampage of Jeff Weise, a Hitler admirer who fatally shot students ain the Red Lake, MN High School in 1999.
 
How about Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold who killed 13 classmates at the Columbine high school in Littleton Colorado, also in 1999.
 
And let's not forget Charles Whitman, notorious as the University of Texas tower sniper. An ex-Marine.
 
All of these individuals have been loners with major problems integrating into society.
 
Is there a solution to this mayhem? I certainly don't have the answer. But please don't give me the gun control arguement, since I'll have to remind you of the Oklahoma City bombing of the Alfred P Murrah Federal Building by Timothy McVeigh and Terry Nichols... no guns were involved.
 
The shame these individuals have brought upon their families and ancestry should be a warning sign indicating the result of raising a "Me First" generation.
 
Terrorism is not only from without, but also from within. We certainly can do without.
 
Until later.....DKHT

April 8, 2007  Happy Easter!
 
Not much new or reportable from these Northwoods. Except, of course, the fact that temps have been so cold that the once clear lake is now half re-covered with ice. Or that we just came off a week where it snowed daily. Even the thirty or so mallards who flew in over a week ago gather along my shore every morning to discuss where they went wrong.
 
Not very much like Easter, here, so I'm headed once again down memory lane for Easter memories of long ago.
 
When I was a youngster, my family lived 2 miles out of town in the rolling countryside of Northern Illinois. Some of the land was heavily wooded with massive oaks, sumac and briars. Other woodlots were being grazed by dairy cattle. The cows kept the undergrowth clear, but left their own form of land mines. Much of the cleared land was dedicated to raising hay or corn.
 
The neighbors across the road were people of means and had about 20 acres of property. On the east side of the sprawling brick home was an expansive lawn of 10 acres, with flower beds and fruit trees spread throughout. In fact, when I was eight or nine years old, I was hired to mow that 10 acres and another acre on the west side. There was a gorgeous tiered bed of flowers separating the smaller lawn from the lower field, which was cleared of trees and bushes, but allowed nature to grow low grasses. That field was directly across the road from our house and yard.
 
Each Saturday before Easter Sunday, members of the PTA and Lions Club arrived at the neighbors early in the morning, loaded with boiled and colored Easter eggs for the annual elementary school egg hunt. They'd labor diligently for an hour or so, placing eggs in this field of grass, careful not to hide them too well. We'd watch the activity from our breakfast table. Moreover, our jet black cocker spaniel, Smokey, was busy watching and making doggie notes on the hiding places.
 
The volunteer egg placers would leave about two hours before the children would arrive. Smokey would take his cue and rush over to the field to gobble more than his share of eggs. He wouldn't come home until his belly was dragging on the ground and his shaggy coat was festooned with shards of colorful eggshell. We became used to the all night wails that signaled Smokey was paying with tummy pain for his overindulgence. Yet, the following year would see those memories erased and Smokey would again find his observation post and prepare for another egg assault. He indeed had a very selective memory.
 
On Easter Sunday we'd be up early and have a nice breakfast. It was a day for my dad to be able to relax. Mom would made a dish to pass for the huge annual Easter dinner over at my grandparents'. I knew my grandma Esther and great-grandma Anna would be hard at work in the kitchen next door. Esther was Anna's daughter and they came from solid English stock. However, they lived most of their lives in our overwhelmingly Bohemian community and became expert cooks of this cuisine. I know I was lucky to have this modified menu, since the stuff I saw and smelled cooking over at the pure Bohemian great-grandparents' scared the heck out of me.
 
Our Easter dinner would begin with a huge ham, scalloped potatoes, green bean casserole, peas and carrots, sausage and sour kraut, scratch biscuits and things I never even had room for. For dessert there'd be at least a pie and a cake, but my all-time favorite was peach dumplings. The peaches would be blanched to remove the skins, then pitted. A whole peach would be surrounded by dumpling dough until you'd have a dumpling nearly the size of a 12 inch softball. While the dumplings were cooking in a huge vat of boiling water Other peaches would be rendered down into a sweet sauce. You'd take half of a steaming hot dumpling, pour a little sauce over it then sprinkle a cinnamon and sugar powder over the top. Two were my limit, but if I tried three, I'd find myself wailing alongside Smokey later in the day.
 
Unfortunately, many of those recipes were lost with the passing of grandma Esther and great-grandma Anna. Subsequent attempts at any of the traditional (read BIG) dumplings wind up with sinkers... slimy balls of goo with centers of uncooked flour. I avoid experimenting with these recipes because 1) I'm trying to do low carbs, and 2) I don't want GeeDubyah tossing me in the hoosegow for creating weapons of mass destruction.
 
Happy Easter, all, and Happy Birthday to Nephew Dan.
 
Until later.....DKHT