Orchid Mania

Did you know that orchids belong to the most diverse family of plants known to man? There are over 880 genera, 28,000 species and well over 300,000 registered cultivars currently documented. They grow all over the world, up in trees, down in the ground, on rocks and just about anywhere except on the oceans.

The above plant is a Cymbidium and I am very excited about it because I have never been able to get one to flower. They do not like heat so in my sub-tropical climate, I had to find a species that was more heat-tolerant. I purchased this little plant in Santa Barbara, California at a magnificent orchid nursery. I went there with Harry's dad, Sidney, not too long before his health failed and he passed away. He loved gardening and we shared that passion. So I call this Sidney's orchid and I sure wish he could see it.

I potted, and fussed over this plant for a long time before giving up on it. I eventually stuck it on the side of the house in practically full sun (pretty much an orchid no-no for most species) and ignored it. The sprinkler gave it a drink every few days so I didn't have to water it. One day I was checking my lemon tree for new fruit, and sitting next to it was this rather beat up looking plant with a three foot long flower stalk. Yippee!!

Orchid growing is an addiction. I got my first orchid years ago in Cleveland. I don't know where it came from (probably Home Depot) and I jumped in to learning how to care for it. It sat in a hall near an indoor pool, and apparently the light and humidity were just right, because I didn't know what I was doing and one day, it bloomed the most magnificent purple huge corsage type flower that people used to get from Woolworth's in clear plastic boxes to give their mother's for Mother's Day. I later learned it was a Cattleya.

I was hooked. Since then I have expanded my collection and one of the joys of living in the Keys it that it is perfect for growing. I have them glued to trees with Liquid Nails. I have them in pots, baskets, on bark slabs and even have a bamboo "great wall of orchids." I have joined an Orchid Club. I have met many wonderful, albeit sometimes strange, people that share my love of this plant. I have had successes and failures. And, I have definitely learned how little I know!!

But one thing is for sure. After waiting, sometimes years, it is very exciting seeing the first bit of a flower stalk peeking out among the leaves. Then there is a wait while it matures. And of course, the dénouement - day the sexy orchid flower bursts out makes all the fussing, all the spraying for fungus, all the moving about finding the perfect light and all the worry when the weather is too cold, too rainy, or a hurricane is forecast, all worth while.

Swedish Pancakes

Growing up, Sundays meant going to church, followed by dinner (usually roast beef or roast chicken or some other rather formal food item with all the accompaniments and often homemade dessert) and supper was the last meal of the day. Supper was often leftovers but occasionally, it was made by my father in the heavy black cast iron skillet. Both of my father's parents came to the U.S. from Sweden, and my father made Swedish pancakes. Traditionally, in Sweden, they would be served with lingonberries, but we ate ours with either powdered sugar or syrup. There is still some controversy over whether they should be rolled or folded in quarters but I have gone over to my sister's method of folding.

My childhood friends loved to stay for dinner on pancake nights. I cannot imagine how many of these I have created for my own family. And now, my son makes them for his children.

The reason I was thinking about them today was because Harry made them this morning and I realized that I probably had not had more than one pancake per seating in 30 years. Standing at the stove cranking them out for Harry, Matt, Tom, Sam and all of their sleepover friends growing up, by the time they had eaten their fill, there was usually no more batter left!

The recipe is simple and takes a few seconds to swirl in the blender. Try them and I expect hear some raves. The recipe was immortalized in a Jr. League cookbook in Cleveland years ago - tested and made the cut. It is no fail.

3/4 c. flour
3/4 c. milk

4 eggs

1 t. salt

1 T. sugar

Melt about a teaspoon of butter in a non-stick omelet size pan and let melt and start to brown. Pour in enough batter to swirl and coat the bottom of pan. When lightly browned, flip and brown and fold and serve.

Just wait until next Christmas when I share the Urich family Christmas Eve Bacardi Cocktail recipe. I will probably be loopy when I write the blog...

My Fishing Buddy

Matt came down for the long New Year's weekend for our Second Annual Sailfish Event. Look at the smile on my handsome son. Look at the terror in the eyes of that sailfish (and note the ramora on its side). The top photo is the first fish of the marathon, caught by Matt's brother-in-law Ryan Fitzpatrick who joined us with his girlfriend Julie Wise for three of the four fishing days. You can also see that the weather went from glorious to grueling. After Matt caught his fish, he and I were very happy to come in and sit in our favorite restaurant for a cup of hot she-crab soup. It was COLD out there.

Matt is one incredible fisherman. From the time he was 2 years old and held a fishing pole, he has loved the sport. By the time he was 5, he knew everything about sharks. He has his Captain's license, and that is not easy to obtain. It requires a great deal of study and many, many hours on the water. We call him Capt. Ahab (lovingly) because when the fishing gets hot, he changes from his usually laid back demeanor into a man with a mission - ordering and directing the occupants of the boat. Lines need reeled in, spaces need cleared, the boat needs driven. As he says, fishing is hours of quiet contemplation time interrupted by madness. But his barking orders helps us catch fish. Like the fictional character, he has a quest for whatever fish species he is targeting. He likes bonefish on the flats, dolphin in the summer and sailfish in the winter. All require a hunt. I credit my father who instilled the love of fishing in me and my brother, Tom and was passed on to Matt. I am so proud at how he has grown up into such a great, competent, smart, fun, and wonderful loving son, husband and father. I love going fishing with him.

Sail fishing is two fold. First you have to catch the live bait. We are out on the coral reef early, throw out a chum bag and wait for the ballyhoo to show up. Then, we try to fill the bait well with three or four dozen, all caught on tiny hair hooks. Being out on the crystal clear aqua water and seeing all the sea life on the reef is a treat in itself. Sometimes Matt will throw a cast net if we are getting impatient but he is a purist and feels the ballyhoo are too stressed that way. There is often a bit of anxiety involved about making bait. Sometimes we have to move to several spots due to currents. Or the bait is skittish if a barracuda is lurking nearby, or they can be just not hungry. But, usually we fill the well, untie from the buoy and away we go - not too far on the outside of the reef and troll those live baits slowly behind the boat so they swim along.

The first sail we caught was within minutes of hitting the deeper water. We opened the bait well and the pump had failed causing half of the bait fish to die. We quickly decided to run back to the reef and try and catch some more when Matt yelled that a sail fish was free jumping alongside of the boat, perhaps 50 feet off. We hustled a few of the remaining live baits on and chucked some dead ones over for chum and within 5 minutes had the above beauty on and a nice 45 minute fight to get it to the boat, photo taken, back in the water to revive and on its way to create chaos for another fisherman. Ryan did a great job and Matt ran the boat. Julie and I just stood around enjoying the splendid show. It's not a matter of just reeling a sail in. It requires the use of the boat to chase the fish because he swims, pulls out all the line, does aerobatics on top of the water and generally gets your heart pumping. You reel in and he takes the line out. Can be exhausting, exhilarating, and maddening if you lose him after a long battle.

Unfortunately we had to end such a promising day early because the bait well did croak. Back to the dock for repairs and back at it the next day. Of course we did manage to relive the story over and over while enjoying the Rose Bowl. Although the weather deteriorated over the course of the weekend, our spirits did not and even when not catching fish, we saw sea turtles, a porpoise and today, a large shark. And, we enjoyed the company of our new fishing buddies, Ryan and Julie. As they say, there are no bad days of fishing.

Grey Christmases

The title "Grey Christmases" does not refer to the weather in Northeastern Ohio where I grew up, but to my mother's family, the Greys, with whom I have spent every Christmas Day save three that I recall: when I was 18 and left home alone with a stomach virus, when I brought my youngest son Sammy home from the hospital and last year when I was a martyr and worked.

The Greys are Welsh and loud and fun. I grew up with a number of cousins my age and we have remained close and loving. Our parents, aunts and uncles all had beautiful dark red hair and none of us sports that particular shade, although there are a few strawberry blonds in the mix.

Several years ago, my Aunt Betty (my mother's twin sister) received, from her brother Ted, a special gift on Thanksgiving. It was a potato from his garden, that looked like a turkey. We got many laughs from the gift. At Christmas, it showed up in our White Elephant gift exchange dressed as above, the Christmas potato. My 50th birthday fell near Easter that year, and sure enough, my cousin Mary gifted it to me, dressed as the Easter Bunny. And, then, the next Christmas, it made it's final appearance in the White Elephant gift exchange again, this time as an angel. It was so desiccated and scary looking by that time, it needed to retire to heaven. Recalling the potato this Christmas, we did have some memory of it wearing a bikini, and perhaps it did make an appearance at the annual Beach Haven, New Jersey cousin's shore vacation.

The White Elephant gift exchange was started by my mother. It was a bit of a hard sell that first year, but quickly caught on and has been an annual event for perhaps 25 or more years. The idea is to find your best white elephant and put it in the exchange. Each participant draws a number with #1 being the best because after all gifts are opened, #1 can steal any other gift and the event ends. Stealing gifts is a big part of the fun. When it is your turn, you can take someone elses gift and they in turn can steal or open a new present. This year, the premier fought after items were a skunk fur cap with a moving tail and a Poo-pet (don't ask). Over the years, there have been items that reappear ever so often, like the gi-normous underpants, the size 50DDDDDDDDDD bra that Aunt Mary obtained when she worked in foundations in Stone & Thomas Dept. store, a muumuu that my husband modeled, a used and happily discarded maternity bathing suit, adult size footed pjs, and many more silly items. Some choice antiques and collectibles have also appeared and then the stealing gets serious! I am reminded, with some guilt, that I put my great grandfather's large oval framed picture in the exchange after being designated its recipient when my Aunt Betty died. But you would have to see his face to understand. Frightening! I know Aunt Betty would forgive me; she loved her nieces and nephews that much.

With 20 to 30 persons in one room, hooting and hollering, the din gets quite significant. Being a new member of this family must be daunting. Aunt Betty, who was left the matriarch after her siblings were gone, would put people "on probation" if they misbehaved, or even if they didn't and she was feeling ornry (which was often). One family member by marriage in particular was constantly on probation and there was even a protest one year with placards being carried through the living room saying "FREE STEVE."

When Christmas Day is coming to an end, when my sister Mary Beth's mulled wine is consumed, when we have finished appetizers and dinner and cookies and always sundaes with chocolate sauce made from Aunt Dolly's recipe, I feel the incredible holiday warmth and glow that comes after a day of catching up with loved ones. Grey Christmases are not gloomy at all.

I Married This Guy!

In case you didn't notice, the lens in the right side of Harry's glasses is half gone. Why this is significant is not because it is to correct his new cataract-free vision, but because he walked in this way after grinding his glasses to create a solution for his new adjusted eyesight. When the cartoon character Jessica in Who Framed Roger Rabbit was asked why she married Roger, she said "because he makes me laugh." I am Jessica (sans the looks).

My kids believe I married Harry because he adds excitement to my life and I have to admit, honestly, that I am a restless soul and so he does fill the bill. When I first met him, for our first date he picked me up in a car that had oil well equipment on the back seat, because he was drilling wells in Ohio. That did seem a bit out of the ordinary to me. When I first saw his house, I was amazed at the project he undertook. Not a simple remodel. He built most of our first house, which included an indoor swimming pool and pottery room for hobbies. The pottery room was an example of his creative mind. He found the kiln and equipment at a garage sale, and the classes and room followed. He saw a parrot and the next thing I knew, we owned macaws and parrots and even bred them. The cage was a spectacular open air affair that of course, he built. He wanted to fly. Well, he learned and we did. He had a series of different planes and there were a series of trips that ensued. The experiences are fairly endless, and I could go on and on, but the point is, this is a very interesting man who NEVER sees something as impossible. I just go along for the ride.

He has continued to be one of the most interesting, exciting, funny, impulsive, entertaining and annoying people I have ever met. He is generous and kind which counteracts his bluntness and sometimes rudeness. If he likes you, then you will benefit because he has helped many people; whether it is to get a start in a business, a job or just a helping hand. The Masons invited him to a meeting and later to join their organization after he was observed helping a fellow shopper deal with a difficult load in a Home Depot shopping lot. He talks to everyone. Someone once said he probably talks to statues in the park. He makes people laugh, or he offends them. Depends on the recipient and their willingness to engage with a stranger in banter or political views. He makes connections wherever he goes. And, he is unbelievable bright. Not just intelligence, but in a very creative way. I think of him as a small scale Donald Trump with better hair.

What would the last 25 years of my life have been like without Harry? Well, I am sure it would have been a smoother path to travel. There have definitely been some potholes along the way, and some have been pretty deep. But I would have missed the slow climb up the roller coaster and then the wild free fall down at breakneck speed. That adrenaline rush has made it, in the words of my father-in-law, quite a ride!

Watch Your Thoughts

I am a long time fan of police blotter news. The local paper for Chagrin Falls, Ohio that we used to subscribe to had a story one time about a police responding to a call regarding house plants that seemed to be changing locations at night in an office building lobby. I found this little gem of a story in the Marathon, Fl. newspaper.

"A Marathon man is under arrest for attacking another man with a large knife. The 50 year old victim told Deputy Bradford Colen that a 58 year old Florentino Arencibia rode up to him on his bicycle at about 2:10 PM last Friday. He said Arencibia said he was going to kill him, then took out a large knife and swung it at him, hitting him in the chest. The victim suffered a small cut on his chest, but did not want any medical attention.

Deputies found Arencibia nearby and questioned him about the incident. He repeated his threats about killing the victim. When they asked him why, he said it was because 'he stole my mind.' Arencibia as arrested and charged with aggravated battery. He was booked into jail."

Get Up, Stand Up

I won... sort of. I went to court for my small claims case against the "man" (Mariner's Hospital actually). I dreaded going. I hate to have to assert myself. I don't even like to do it on the phone let alone in a courtroom. I did get to go to a mediator which was much friendlier than standing in front of the local Judge Judy. I was organized and presented my case. The hospital agreed to zero my balance and I agreed to absorb court costs. So their bill for $1189 of lab work became essentially $300. I could have gone to trial for that $300, but I figured I did get a service, and I should pay something. What I did learn is that you better check exactly what your insurance covers before you have any procedure done. And, I did learn that emergency room visits are covered 100% minus your co-pay - no matter what hospital you go to and no matter what insurance you have. But scheduled procedures are a different story. So if they tell you that you need an x-ray, you better ask "am I covered."

Oh, and by the way, the judge down here has a ponytail.