Widow's Endorphins: Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah...

Widow's Endorphins: Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah...: Hello Muddah, Hello Fadduh, Here I am at Camp Grenada Camp is very entertaining and they say we'll have some fun if it stops...

Widow's Endorphins: Hollywood Casting Call

Widow's Endorphins: Hollywood Casting Call: I love old Hollywood movies.  Summer is a wonderful time to watch old black and white movies - deep in the afternoon, when it's to...

Hollywood Casting Call

I love old Hollywood movies.  Summer is a wonderful time to watch old black and white movies - deep in the afternoon, when it's too hot and humid to be outdoors, or, at twilight, when the sky is that lapis blue colour, and you can hear the stillness of the night.  Whether you're alone in front of a big screen television, or stretched out on the floor of a Summer cottage with your siblings and cousins, and all of your friends, those old movies are pure entertainment. 

From the moment I saw this photograph of the yellow rose up on the "big screen" (my computer), I thought of nothing else but an old Hollywood movie.  It is one of the Gold Badge Floribunda roses growing on my Toronto balcony this Summer. I've taken many photographs of those yellow roses, and this image is my favourite.  There is something about the warm, buttery yellow, melting into the softer yellow, the deep green and palest blue that is reminiscent of the late 1940's and 50's colour palette.  

This is the rose that would be growing alongside an arching white trellis, just as Cary Grant would stroll by, tip the brim of his hat, wink, and say,"Afternoon, Rose", to the innkeeper's intelligent, self confident daughter. This is the rose that would be snipped from a New York penthouse balcony garden, and placed in a crystal vase on the piano - the one Frank Sinatra, or Bing Crosby would lean against, while entertaining cocktail party guests.      

Which got me thinking...if I were a Casting Director, who would play the part of this rose?  Even in a checked jacket, Lauren Bacall is smouldering.  This rose is cooler.  Rita Hayworth's glorious curls of red hair would have to be sacrificed.  Even with a bonnet of roses 'round her head, she's not quite the type.  Ingrid Bergman, has the strength of character, and needs a lightness of being.  

What about sunny Doris Day?  In my Dad's words whenever he'd walk past one of her "helpless female" movies on TV, "Gormless!"  Katharine Helpburn could portray this rose.  No?  She's more the full, multi-layered, wine red, or fiery orange rose.  The lovely Donna Reed, who played Jimmy Stewart's wife, in It's a Wonderful Life?  Type cast, as the pretty, soft pink wild rose. 

Casting call for a classic beauty:  one who is sophisticated, yet enjoys the simple goodness in life; one who is elegant, refined and kind; one who possesses - what's the word - grace...  

Grace Kelly, also known to the world as Her Serene Highness Princess Grace of Monaco.

Grace Kelly was born November 12, 1929 in Philadelphia.  Her father, "Jack" Kelly made millions in the brick business.  He was a three time Olympic Gold Medalist on the US Rowing Team, and her mother was the first coach of the women's athletic teams at the University of Pennsylvania.  With those genes, you'd think she too would have been an Olympic athlete.  Her uncles led her astray. Walter Kelly worked in Vaudeville, and George Kelly was a Pulitzer Prize winning playwright.

Her first big movie role was playing Gary Cooper's young wife, in High Noon (1952).  The following year, she received an Academy Award nomination, and a Golden Globe award for Best Supporting Actress in Mogambo, starring Clark Gable and Ava Gardener.  While filming in Kenya, she had an affair with Gable, and was later quoted as saying, "What else is there to do if you're alone in a tent in Africa with Clark Gable?"

Kelly turned down the chance to work with Marlon Brando in On the Waterfront, so that she could work with Director, Alfred Hitchcock.  She made three films with Hitchcock - Rear Window (1954), Dial M for Murder (1954), and To Catch a Thief (1955) with Cary Grant.

Somehow, she found time to squeeze in The Country Girl (also 1954), for which she won an Oscar for Best Actress, playing the role of the neglected wife of an alcoholic.  A year later, she was in Cannes with the US delegation, and met Monaco's Prince Rainier III.  In 1956, her last film, High Society, the musical comedy remake of The Philadelphia Story, starring Frank Sinatra and Bing Crosby (what did I tell you?) was released to the world.  It was her last movie.

April 19, 1956 Grace Kelly became Princess Grace, the Princess Consort.  Her films were banned in Monaco.  The royal couple had three children, Caroline, Albert and Stephanie.

It was Stephanie who was with her in the car, that fateful day in September 1982, when Princess Grace suffered a stroke, while driving along the winding cliffs of France's cote d'Azur.  She lost control of the car, and it plunged down an embankment.  She was in a coma for 24 hours, and died. She was only 52.

I had a lovely, creamy white Hybrid Tea rose, Caroline de Monaco, growing on the balcony.  It is named for Princess Grace's first born, Princess Caroline.  Unfortunately, my nemesis, the grey squirrel staged a coup d'etat, and chopped off her head.  It has taken weeks for more buds to appear and begin to blossom.  If that squirrel dares chew through another blossom, he'll have a front row seat to my own re-enactment of Apocalypse Now.



Photos Afternoon, Rose copyright:  Ruth Adams, Widow's Endorphins Photographic Images Inc.

Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah...

Hello Muddah, Hello Fadduh,

Here I am at Camp Grenada

Camp is very entertaining

and they say we'll have some fun if it stops raining.

Allan Sherman's hilarious ode to Summer Camp, is based on a real life letter from camp written by his young son Robbie Sherman.  The camp - Camp Champlain - was in upstate New York.  It was owned by the uncle of writer, Paul Lieberman, who remembers the kid they called, "Sherman".

"Sherman had never been to camp before he arrived at my uncle's on Lake Champlain.  He was the smallest boy in the cabin but made his presence known by reading us the letters he was sending his parents, telling them how miserable he was:  'I wish you were here and I was there'.  'The counselor plays the trumpet in the middle of the night and won't let me sleep'.  That sort of stuff."  

I went hiking with Joe Spivy

He developed poison ivy

You remember Leonard Skinner

He got ptomaine poisoning last night after dinner.

"But the letters didn't work.  Sherman remained at the camp, and remained miserable, right up until the lunch hour when he took matters into his own hands."

"We were at one of the long tables in the barn-like mess hall.  He was sitting on my left.  Another boy was on my right. They began arguing.  About what I can't recall.  But, as I said, I'll never forget the dull butter knife, and it may well have been the thick handle that hit the boy.  But he fell backward nonetheless and started wailing.  I grabbed Sherman in a headlock and probably started pounding on him.  Of that I'm not certain - but the headlock definitely.  And the next day he was gone. They'd kicked him out."  

By contrast, my Dad's 1939 postcard home to his parents is uplifting!  He was having a "swell time" at Summer camp. They used words like that.  On the back of the postcard, in my Grandfather's handwriting, is the place name, Whytecliffe, the beautiful West Vancouver park, my Dad would later take our family to for Summer evening picnics of cold chicken and potato salad.  

Having learned that he may have an opportunity to travel to Hawaii with the Sea Scouts, he could hardly wait to write his parents, who only lived across the water, and an Inter-urban ride away from the camp. His spelling of Honolulu makes me laugh every time. 

That Dad would have chosen this particular postcard to send home, is no surprise.  Siwash Rock, with its Douglas Fir tree, is legendary in Vancouver.  The volcanic basalt stack is a landmark in Stanley Park, which this week (a few weeks ahead of the park's 127th birthday) was named the top park in the entire world.  

Brantford, Ontario-born Canadian poet, and daughter of a Six Nations Chief, Emily Pauline Johnson's ashes are, at her request, buried under a boulder within sight of Siwash Rock.  She moved from Ontario to British Columbia, where she died of breast cancer at the age of 51. 

Siwash Rock held a strong connection with her.  She wrote about it in her book, Legends of Vancouver. The people of the Squamish First Nation say that thousands of years ago, a young Chief, named Skalsh married a Northcoast woman.  The night before the birth of their first child, they purified themselves in the Narrows of Burrard Inlet. While his wife crept back into the forest, Skalsh continued to purify himself for his family.  Gods paddling in a canoe that would lose its special powers if it touched human beings, ordered him out of the water, but he refused.  For his commitment to family, the moment Skalsh stood up on the shoreline, the Gods immortalized him in stone: a symbol of "clean fatherhood".  Just the legend that may have been passed down to generation after generation of kids at camp.

With Summer racing to an end, and those camps about to close for the year, I am reminded of Johnson's poem, The Song My Paddle Sings, and her words, "August is laughing across the sky".

The photographs of these clouds and the weathered, wind swept Muskoka Pine (at the top of the page), were taken from the deck of a Muskoka steamship returning to Gravenhurst.  The lone pine reminds me of Siwash Rock.  Two different trees, both standing tall through the violent storms of two millennia.  The tree atop Siwash Rock (actually trees, but they're so closely intertwined they appear as one) withstood hurricanes, which felled giant Cedars in Stanley Park.

Camp Champlain, the real life Camp Granada is no longer standing.  It is now a hotel, known as the Normandie Beach Resort.

Oh, and if you're wondering what ever happened to the real life boy who hated Summer camp, writer Paul Lieberman, who sat beside him that fateful lunch hour, tracked him down for an article published August 16, 2003 in the Los Angeles Times.

Robert Sherman could not remember many of the events of that Summer long ago.  "Not to look for sympathy, but just as a comment on memory - I had four just-outside-of-the-brain tumors removed, two in 1973 and two in 1983, and I have a bunch of memory gaps."  Sherman, weathered the storms. He had a boyhood interest in electronics, and started a series of entertainment websites including Quiz-land.com.  He made a nice living doing what he enjoyed.  He even sent his daughter to a day camp! 

P.S. (Summer Camp letters often end with a P.S.)  The Muskoka Pine is now available on Society6 as a phone skin or cover for your kid's iphone..."Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah..."

Muskoka Pine photograph copyright:  Ruth Adams, Widow's Endorphins Photographic Images Inc.

Summer Clouds photograph copyright:  Ruth Adams, Widow's Endorphins Photographic Images Inc.
Lyrics to Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah (A Letter from Camp) by Allan Sherman, Wikipedia
Legends of Vancouver, E. Pauline Johnson (1911)
The Song My Paddle Sings, Flint and Feather: The Complete Poems, by E. Pauline Johnson (1912)

The Boy in Camp Granada, by Paul Lieberman, LA Times August 16, 2003

Widow's Endorphins: Salsa

Widow's Endorphins: Salsa: Fresh Salsa is one of the pleasures of Summer.  Salsa is both Spanish and Italian for sauce.  It is delicious as a taco dip, or as a c...

Salsa

Fresh Salsa is one of the pleasures of Summer.  Salsa is both Spanish and Italian for sauce.  It is delicious as a taco dip, or as a condiment served with roasted meat, poultry or fish.  If you are lucky enough to have an herb and vegetable garden (or, a really great neighbour with a garden), then homemade fresh Salsa is probably something you enjoy throughout the Summer.  

There are five basic ingredients in Salsa:  tomatoes, onion, jalapeno pepper, cilantro and lime juice.  I know, just as I define the list, you'll add and subtract from it!  That's the beauty of Salsa, there's room for experimentation.

Traditional Salsa  

3 Cups chopped fresh tomatoes

1/2 Cup finely diced green pepper

1/4 Cup finely diced red pepper

1/2 Cup finely diced onion

1/4 Cup chopped fresh cilantro

1 finely diced jalapeno pepper

2 Tbsp fresh lime juice

1 Tbsp olive oil (optional)

salt and cracked black pepper to taste

Combine all of the ingredients in a bowl, stirring well.  Cover and chill for at least one hour.  Serve with taco chips and avocado, or as a condiment with roast chicken, meat or fish.   

If you're like me, and all of the women in our family, you'll be changing the recipe as you read along. Substitute red onion, or even green onion for white onion.  What, no garlic?  Add garlic.  Don't have cilantro and lime?  Substitute with fresh parsley and lemon juice (not the same, but it works). Terrified of handling jalapeno chile peppers?  Many recipes come with a warning about using disposable gloves, washing hands with soap and hot water, and avoiding touching your eyes for most of the day.  Substitute with dried Chile peppers, or season with dried Chipotle pepper.  Hey, it's a Summer snack, not Christmas dinner!

For the non-conformists, there's a non-tomato version of Salsa you might enjoy...

Just Peachy Salsa

1 Cup chopped fresh peaches

1/2 Cup diced red bell pepper

1/2 Cup diced red onion

1/4 Cup chopped fresh cilantro

1 diced jalapeno pepper

2 Tbsp lime juice

salt and pepper to taste

Blanche the peaches with boiling water, so as to more easily remove the peel.  Chop the peaches, and combine all of the ingredients in a bowl.  Stir, and cover.  Refrigerate for at least one hour, so that the flavours blend.

This recipe too, has a variation:  substitute peaches with fresh nectarines.  Nectarines are much firmer than peaches, and dice easily.  Whereas peaches are best chopped.  You don't need to remove the skin from the nectarine, making this option a much easier one if you are in a hurry.

Photographs Copyright of :  Ruth Adams, Widow's Endorphins Photographic Images Incorporated.

Widow's Endorphins: Peaches and Cream

Widow's Endorphins: Peaches and Cream: Grandpa had a peach tree.  It was, and still is a rarity in Vancouver.  While Canadian peaches grow in abundance in both the hot, dry ...

Peaches and Cream

Grandpa had a peach tree.  It was, and still is a rarity in Vancouver.  While Canadian peaches grow in abundance in both the hot, dry Okanagan region of British Columbia, and in the hot, humid Niagara region of Ontario, it is unusual to have a peach tree in Vancouver.

My Grandparents had a large double lot with a white picket fence all around.  An enormous cherry tree presided over the backyard gardens...three different gardens.  One, closest to the kitchen door, produced corn, beans, peas, potatoes, carrots, lettuce, tomatoes and chives.  Another, produced strawberries, raspberries, sweetpeas, and gladiolus.  The peach tree grew in the rose garden.  It was always called, "Grandpa's tree", and he was proud of the bounty it produced.

 
Grandma's father was the Foreman on the rail line through Northern Ontario gold country, and her mother ran an ever moving boarding house for railway construction workers.  Grandma learned to cook and bake for crews of hungry men. When I was growing up, her Westcoast kitchen was Central Command for whatever was in season.

So, when the peaches on Grandpa's tree ripened, their house was filled with the sweet fragrance of peach pie, peach cobbler, and canned peaches.  The kernel found in the peach pit, would be added to the canned peaches, giving the syrup an almond flavour.  The Mason jars of canned peaches would be left standing on the kitchen table, until after their lids made the popping sound, signalling they'd been sealed.  The jars would then be brought down creaky cellar stairs to the pantry.  On dark Winter nights, Grandma would open a jar of Summer, and together they'd savour a simple dessert of peaches and thick cream.

After Grandpa died, the double lot was subdivided and sold.  The rose garden and peach tree were bulldozed to make way for someone's house.



Photographs Copyright of:  Ruth Adams, Widow's Endorphins Photographic Images Incorporated.    

Widow's Endorphins: After the Storm

Widow's Endorphins: After the Storm: We had a frightening storm yesterday.  Ominous black clouds, and an eerie green glow appeared in the sky above Toronto.  Then came t...

After the Storm

We had a frightening storm yesterday.  Ominous black clouds, and an eerie green glow appeared in the sky above Toronto.  Then came torrential rains, thunder and lightening.  

  

Nature gives us lessons in life.  After every storm, the air is fresher, we breathe easier, and the sun shines.  Be strong, tomorrow is a brighter day!  These roses appear so fragile, yet they withstood the wind and rain, which destroyed trees. You are stronger than you know! 

Photographs Copyright of:  Ruth Adams, Widow's Endorphins Photographic Images Incorporated.