BLAME IT ON THE SUWANNEE!

A series of essays.....

CEDAR KEY, FLORIDA: TAKEN FROM GULF BLVD.
LOOKING AT INLET THAT FLOWS OUT TO GOOSE COVE

.....as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

Imagine being the actor who, willingly, thrusts his hand into a glass box swarming with active mosquitoes? Now imagine two people who, voluntarily, begin an innocent trek up a dirt path in the Florida woods in search of the Shell Mound reportedly located along the gently rippling waters of the Suwannee Sound within the boundaries of the Cedar Keys National Wildlife Refuge.

Allow your imagination to go wild and you might even be able to feel their pain. Sans repellent, they continued on until nearly physically lifted above the ground by large clouds of thirsty mosquitoes...... A bit of an exaggeration. Maybe. You would had to have been there to understand their discomfort!

CEDAR KEY NATIONAL
 WILDLIFE REFUGE

LOOKING OUT TO THE
SUWANNEE SOUND

What on earth were we thinking?!? But, hey, I did manage to take several brilliant photos of this beautiful place inhabited eighteen hundred years ago by Native Cultures before running like an insane woman back to our Kia. Swatting the little vampires inside the car was truly a cardiac exertion and lasted until we hit the main road leading out of Cedar Key once again. I'm not sure if our tears represented pure pain or the laughter that swept over us as we traveled up the sun-dappled SR 24 that Sunday afternoon.

Heading east, we eventually picked-up Old Highway 27 and, taking it south towards Orlando, found ourselves driving through the town of Ocala. Our surprise find of the day (besides the hungry, malaria carrying mosquitoes) was an operable Drive-In Theatre now showing "Wonder Woman" and "Pirates of the Caribbean!" Who knew?

OCALA, FLORIDA ~ JUNE 2017

BRINGS BACK MANY
CHILDHOOD MEMORIES

As Dan and I approach 'short timer' status within our adopted home of Florida and prepare ourselves for the next phase of our life, we've decided to go on a mission based on access and opportunity. We hope to explore as much of Florida as possible, as long as we still can call it our home, and utilize it as our home base for many future satellite trips around the state. And we say, "Damn the mosquitoes, full speed ahead.....!" Time is short and there's still so much to discover around here.

One coastal area of Florida we'd been neglecting for almost twenty-one years happens to be located near the Suwannee River that flows into the Gulf of Mexico around sixty miles west of Gainesville, Florida. This famous river begins its long, wild journey at its origins in the Okefenokee Swamp in southeast Georgia. Having many questions about this swampy and wild area along Florida's northwestern coastline, we decided to make this our first 'off-the-beaten-path' tour of the state with, hopefully, many more to follow.

Just before Memorial Day, Dan suggested a two-night stay in the small, rustic town of Cedar Key. We had heard that this quaint village played a huge part in the early development of Florida's international commerce by having the first train route that stretched across the state from Fernandina Beach north of Jacksonville to the Gulf of Mexico. How had it retained its quiet charm having had such a rich history? 

After packing a small suitcase and filling the car with gas, we were heading along the two-lane back roads to Cedar Key one week later.

We weren't sure what to expect considering this was a last minute trip, not researched (totally not my modus operandi, at all!), and we would be arriving there late having left after Dan got out of work on Friday. I will admit, I was more than a little dubious about everything upon our arrival with its 'rough and tumble' vibe and a genuine feeling of claustrophobia considering that Cedar Key only has one main road in and out.

WALKING ALONG DOCK STREET

ISLAND HOTEL & RESTAURANT

Nanna's Room awaited us at the Cedar Key Bed & Breakfast owned and operated by Alice Phillips-Oakley and her caring staff. Eventually, we snuggled in like two kittens in front of a crackling fire, but not before making our way to the restaurants on Dock Street, known as 'the heartbeat of Cedar Key" and suspended over the waters of the Gulf of Mexico. Backtracking to 2nd Street, we settled on a delicious steak dinner at the historic Island Hotel & Restaurant built in 1859 by then Mayor John Parsons. We discovered later that the current  mayor of the town, Heath Davis, and his extended family, was dining at the table in front of ours.

VIEW DOWN 2ND STREET
AFTER DINNER AT THE HOTEL

Walking hand-in-hand back to our room, we were looking forward to a comfortable night's sleep while dreaming about the hearty breakfast to be served on the veranda in the morning. 

PEEKING IN THROUGH THE
GARDEN GATE

DAN IN THE GARDEN AT
CEDAR KEY BED & BREAKFAST

Our informative host, Alice, dropped by our breakfast table and made so many great suggestions for things to do.....including a kayak excursion around several of the Keys. We knew that we couldn't possibly address all of them during our weekend visit. 

Our discussion turned to Ireland having met her dog, Guinness, who shared our space and showered us with wet kisses and love. We were told that because they already had three dogs at home when she wished to acquire this handsome guy, she had to sell the idea to her husband, George. Because of his Irish heritage and love for a pint of Guinness, she felt that George was more apt to accept this fourth, furry child if she were to poke at George's soft spot. Naming him Guinness seemed to soften his heart and George welcomed him with, more or less, open arms.

By the time George arrived at the B&B a short time later, Alice introduced us and knew that our common thread of conversation would be about our travels to Ireland. She was partially correct. The thread seemed to encompass even more as we discovered that George was a graduate of Michigan State University. As you can well imagine, our hearts bled Green and White together as we reminisced about campus life. The entire time we talked, Guinness was eyeing all three of us as if to say, "Let's take this outside and go play fetch, okay?"

ARTISTIC STREET SIGN AND
DIRECTION POST

THE GARDENS OF 'ISLAND ARTS'

Many artists live on Cedar Key today and exhibit their talent in pieces that are for sale in the arts and craft stores dotting 2nd Street. This place is so laid-back and calming that I'm sure many writers come here as a 'retreat' of sorts. I was introduced to the writings of New York Times Bestselling Author of the Cedar Key Series, Terri DuLong, who has been a long time resident of Cedar Key and now resides in Ormond Beach and working on her Ormond Beach novels.

The Historical Museum proved its weight in gold and enlightened us as to the local history of our Native Americans, the Timucuan Indians (eventually known as the Seminole tribe), with a substantial amount of their artifacts on display, and told how they fought to keep their land during a series of Seminole Wars (known as the 'Florida Wars' of which there were three) which began in 1816 and ended in 1858. Fighting the white man who brought his own slaves into Florida and desired the fertile Indian land, they remained proud people who had occupied these keys for at least a thousand years while thriving on the seemingly endless bounty of the land and waters.

We fell in love with Marcy, a docent who offered a 'personal touch' to all of the stories about local industry that helped to place Cedar Key on the map. Do you remember the small whisk broom your Mom may have used? They were made exclusively by Donax Broom Manufacturing from local palmetto fiber, young cabbage palm plants that dotted the many keys. The depletion of the Eastern Red Cedar tree, the namesake of the Cedar Keys, was brought about by the German entrepreneur, J. Eberhard Faber, in the late 1800's. The Cedar Keys were home to the mills of the Faber and Eagle pencil companies (Who hasn't used the trusty No.2?) who exported, via the new Florida Railroad, much of the wood back to Faber's native German and New York City pencil plants.

VARIETY OF WHISK BROOMS  ON DISPLAY
AT THE HISTORY MUSEUM IN TOWN

CEDAR KEY MUSEUM STATE PARK
LOCATED AT THE NORTHERN PART OF THE KEY

The railroad line, a major contributor to the early growth of Cedar Key, was abandoned and removed in 1932 when the locals decided to keep their population small and avoid the major growth that the line would have, inevitably, brought to the ecologically fragile Keys. The railroad was diverted to the Tampa area where it helped spawn the growth of Tampa's shipping trade and population as we see it today.

Quick note: Marcy and her late husband had met on the campus of Michigan State University and were married shortly after graduation. Yes, in case you were wondering, we swapped stories, as well.

Clams! Clams everywhere! Nutritious! Delicious! (So they tell me! Never really a fan!) There's a 'new farmer' in town these days and among them they raise over ninety-five percent of farm-raised clams in the United States. Locally grown and harvested in the clean waters of Cedar Keys by the newest generation of clam farmers, the locals have utilized the rich sediment that winds through swamps, limestone outcroppings, and salt marshes for hundreds of miles flowing from Georgia and into the Gulf of Mexico.

TONY'S FAMOUS
CLAM CHOWDER

A SEAFOOD PO-BOY WITH
THE BEST COLESLAW ~ EVER!

We were soon to discover how proud the locals are of their clean clam farming distinction and reputation. Our waitress at Tony's Restaurant, known worldwide for their award winning clam chowder, told us that oyster farming is becoming as popular and profitable these days in the waters surrounding Cedar Keys. 

Blame it on the Suwannee River! The continuous accumulation of rich silt flowing from the mouth of the river in Georgia and into the Gulf of Mexico has attributed to the shallow, darker water of this coastal area and has become an extension of the southern Georgian swamps themselves. Marcy told us that the coastal waters are darker because of the silt-bottom, shallow depths and the line of distinction between them and the deeper, more colorful waters of the Gulf is quite apparent as you travel south to Tampa. 

Well, with the burning question niggling at me for years finally answered, Dan and I are contemplating our next adventure in Florida. Even though we visited Key West twenty years ago with our youngest daughter, Corinne....it has been way too long since we've enjoyed this colorful, magical spot. And, I'm always happy to have the influence of a beloved author, Ernest Hemingway, rub off on me.

Until then.....!

  

CEDAR KEY SUNSET

CAPPING OFF A WONDERFUL
SATURDAY ON CEDAR KEY

Copyright © 2017 by Jacqueline E. Hughes

All rights reserved

All Photos Copyright © 2017 by Jacqueline E. Hughes

All rights reserved

PRETTY LITTLE BOXES

A series of essays.....

"THERE'S A BOX FOR THAT!"

.....as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

Life seems to be charging at me in fragments. 

They are small, broken pieces that float in the air like tiny feathers at the mercy of the afternoon breeze; sunshine enhanced bits of reality and imagination intertwining with each shift and subtle nuance of emotion. They are multi-colored cotton threads of fact and fiction that float along in a suspended state, oblivious to the passage of time or thought or movement. They are waiting, waiting.....for me? Shrugging my shoulders abjectly, I attempt to carry-on as a functioning adult.

It is imperative that we set aside the time to assess our lives, take a personal inventory of our emotional possessions, even when (especially when) the fragments feel more like shards of glass rather than innocent feathers. We are human. We bleed. The lifeblood from our wounds spills down upon the soil at our feet and gravitates to the small streams and rivers that flow out to the sea....from whence we came. We have traveled full-cycle.

I spend many days collecting my life's fragments and placing them in tiny boxes. Some of these boxes hold dozens of pieces while others may be limited to only a few, even one. If the feather/shard is an enormous challenge for me, it might remain in 'solitary confinement' within its cardboard prison until I can, finally, come to terms with it. Its label of importance scribbled in crimson with the blood from a recent wound....

Am I good enough?

  Will this major change in my life be for the better?

     How well do I deal with people who hate?

       Am I strong enough to handle conflicts with my adult children?    

           When is it time to try harder or time to give up on something?                       

               Why do I allow self-doubt to control me?

                  Does contentment, and personal sanity outweigh a ten-year-old dream?       
                     Self worth...                      

                     

Issues..issues..issues! Yes, there's a box for those!

                         

If I am lucky, the containers are neatly stacked and labeled with most of the "t's" crossed and the "i's" dotted. Over time they begin to resemble 'old fashioned,' hand-painted, wooden blocks tucked away in the corner of a child's nursery, sometimes neglected but never, truly, forgotten. Because, how does one forget about his own soul? 

Unfortunately, spiritless, often cruel, and unsympathetic examples of soulless figures do exist throughout history and the melodic tempo of time.

History has a way of proving that it is possible to exist without a soul, without a personal check and balance system that, normally, comprises our individual emotional and moral standards. Some people exist to nourish the body alone. The soul, having been sold to the highest bidder for shiny, earthly trinkets, has been professionally extracted and replaced by soulless eyes that define this extreme lack of rational behavior. Placing one's self at the mountain's highest peak in order to look down upon the living souls groveling beneath you, characterizes an inhuman, callous being and justly epitomizes 'soullessness.'

When an example of this behavior happens to be a major political leader who consistently guides the people down a winding and certain path of destruction with open notes of malice and contempt being his preferred Pied Piper's melody, we must become deeply concerned! We must be aware of the long term, negative consequences attached to his current actions, and how they will affect all of us within our own mental and physical capacity.

With everything hanging over me like a 'Sword of Damocles,' I understand how important it is to sort out the contents of my 'little boxes' whenever I can. 

The collective fragments form larger pieces as they settle within the boxes. Will time and purpose allow my thoughts to unite and form their own boundaries and shapes like puzzle pieces waiting to be snapped back together recreating their original picture and meaning?  Cut from one cloth, the multi-colored threads of my life reunite into manageable sizes that, with my help, complete a coherent picture of the journey I am to continue to follow.

Patience. Time. Understanding. Joy. Happiness. Hope. Balance. Spirit. Desire. Healing. Wisdom. Love.

The fragments keep coming. They are not shy! Learning to categorize, label, and sprinkle my efforts with showers of patience and love will reward me in the long run. The true payoff is understanding that our dreams, hopes, and desires really can come true if we remember to believe and trust in the kindness and love that surrounds us in our daily lives.

Copyright © 2017 by Jacqueline E. Hughes

All rights reserved

AUTHENTICITY

A series of essays.....

 CACTUS GROWING IN THE 'OLD CITY' OF
EYGALIERES, PROVENCE, FRANCE

.....as seen through my eyes!




 Nature is the purest form of God's gift of 'authenticity' that we will, as intelligent human beings, be able to site as a perfect example of what the future holds in store for us. Let's not screw it up!   JEH

By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

Authenticity is the quality of being trustworthy and genuine and something each one of us should strive for every day of our lives. Some of us do. Many of us make an honest attempt at it. And, only a few of us accomplish this goal that is, of course, provided we care about doing so in the first place. It may require some hard work and effort on our part. Our desire to be unburdened by daily conflict and the disagreement over fundamental issues often supersedes the basic qualities of honesty, clarity, and trustworthiness.

VIEW FROM THE ANCIENT HILLTOP
CITY OF EYGALIERES, FRANCE

Relationships suffer greatly when we fail to incorporate personal authenticity into the equation and treat a friend, lover, parent, child, or spouse as if their life is less important than our own. By not being honest and forthright with them about everything we experience and believe in serves to negate our own importance and relinquishes any reliability we may have hoped to create and achieve within the relationship. 

THE PICTURESQUE
ALPILLES HILLS OF FRANCE

It is not unreasonable to set-up personal boundaries in order to temporarily cope with basic negativity, pain, bullying, marital infidelity, or the physical loss of someone we hold so dear to our hearts. In fact, it is only natural that the mind, our search engine for the body and soul, is prepared to report reliable information to us so that our human psyche is less likely to break down completely or implode. 

OLIVE GROVE
GORDES, FRANCE

Stepping back from behind these boundaries, eventually, is mandatory if we are to become the authentic human being we hope to be. With so much noise and indeterminate amounts of facts and non-truths assaulting our personal space every day, stepping back from behind our comfort zone can be a difficult task. We can set our own pace, however, we must not lose sight of how important it is to succeed if we intend to pursue all of the joy that life has to offer. Fear paralyzes our genuine thoughts and places hopes and dreams in jeopardy. Clinging to the imaginary walls we choose to hide behind weakens our ability to showcase the unique purpose of our life that generously flows within all of us. Fear can slowly corrupt the individual power we are born with that strengthens and supports our success in life.

PATH OVERLOOKING A
BULLFIGHTING ARENA NEAR
FOOTHILLS OF THE ALPILLES HILLS
 

Learning to be honest with ourselves is the first step in becoming whole; being truthful is a major priority in being able to handle all that life has to throw at us along this amazing, crazy journey. We must learn to break away from the heavy drama we've placed ourselves in and come to terms with what is important to us: We need to be willing to hear what we too often don't want to hear. We must be prepared to be able to say what we need to say. Most importantly, we must be willing to just let go.....if need be. 

THE LUBERON RANGE
SOUTH OF GORDES, FRANCE

In an age of ingenuous governing, false hopes and promises, and, dare I say it, fake news thrown at us left and right, the unhealthy lack of a positive role model and absolute truth compounds our daily problems and experiences. Making the decisive choice to care about ourselves and others is strictly up to us. We can't always impede the progress of 'crazy' but we can, definitely, sort it out within our own mind, make mature decisions, and inform others about the importance of being true to yourself.

A FRIEND IN THE LUBERON

Possessing the ability to be able to forgive others whom you may believe harmed or upset you is another quality or condition of being authentic and true to yourself. Forgiveness of others with the attempt at understanding that not everyone follows your own personal codes of what is believed to be right and wrong, will help complete us as human beings in so many intricate and beautiful ways. After all, we share the space created for us here on Earth with so many others that it would be virtually impossible to believe we are not different, to a certain degree, from one another. 

VIEW OF MONT VENTOUX FROM
THE NEARBY TOWN OF BEDOIN

When someone apologizes to you for an action that is perceived by you to be hurtful....you must know that they have opened-up their heart and soul to you in a most private and profound manner. They have authenticated their actions through humbleness and truth and become vulnerable souls subject to your response and subsequent actions. Even though you may feel strong and powerful while holding the emotions of others in your hand like the open book they've become, the misuse of this power will only serve to create stronger barriers of discontent and mistrust between you. You must ask yourself if losing the bond of understanding between the two of you is something you can afford to live with the rest of your life!

SAINTES-MARIES-DE-LA-MER
IN THE HEART OF THE CAMARGUE

In the words of Brené Brown, author of 'Daring Greatly,' "Authenticity is the daily practice of letting go of who we think we're supposed to be and embracing who we are." We must remember that we were born to be honest and real....not perfect. Learning to live with this thought in mind as a personal caveat, may we be authentic enough to be able to acknowledge this in others, as well.

ROLLING VINEYARD LOCATED
BETWEEN CARCASSONNE AND
PIEUSSE, FRANCE

FRUIT OF THE VINE

Copyright © 2017 by Jacqueline E. Hughes

All rights reserved

All Photos Copyright © by Jacqueline E. Hughes

All rights reserved

A WOMAN IN BLACK: "Nice is the New Nasty"

 A series of essays.....

RACHEL MADDOW OF THE "RACHEL MADDOW SHOW"

Photo: Courtesy of  rhodesproject.com




.....as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

Many newscasters and hosts of their own cable news programs are taking the quality and style of relating current events way beyond the ordinary. If they do their job well enough, watching their shows on a daily basis will make it seem like we have embarked upon a journey into the sobering reality of our world based upon their hard work, in depth reporting, and the brilliant unleashing of lies and cover-ups.

I am a news junkie and will always be the first to admit it. My 'mainline' of information is through MSNBC although, my itchy finger has been known to push the CNN button, every now and again. And, while I am frequently on FaceBook during any given day, my heart says kittens and pictures of Paris but, my open, inquiring mind will ultimately focus on current event posts and the reaction to these stories by the many who share and comment on them.

If the average person fails to take any opportunity they may have to become more aware of what's transpiring around them, they risk becoming oblivious to life itself and may become numb to the eventuality of losing their basic human rights. The most encouraging part for me is seeing people slowly waking-up, unfolding like flower petals in the morning light, stretching, yawning, and stirring the old 'brain stew' to a point where thinking, in and of itself, has become popular once again! Congratulations going out to open minds and free thinkers!!

When you discover certain people who instinctively know how to push your 'think-for-yourself' button....it may be prudent to let them into your life and learn what they have to say.

She is not too old to be hip. She is not too young to be boring. She stirs the stimulus pot vigorously every weekday evening and does it in such a simple, step-by-step manor that the knowledge she and her staff uncovers reads like a mini-novel filled with emotion, intriguing characters, and, often, almost unbelievable plot lines. Her name is Rachel Maddow and she is the host of the highly acclaimed "Rachel Maddow Show" which airs on MSNBC at nine o'clock Monday through Friday evenings.

Rachel Anne Maddow turned forty-four years old this past April Fool's Day and certainly contradicts any chicanery or negativism that this particular day may conjure up. She has been described by a Time profile as being "whip-smart" and suggests that, "She radiates an essential decency that her career rise might signify that 'nice is the new nasty.' "

I find it very easy to love her style. Even the utter simplicity of her hairstyle and dark clothing helps to create a calm, transparent personality who tends to smile and giggle often under the influence of both truth and utter disbelief. "Watch this space," is her not so subtle catchphrase for explaining that further developments are expected and more information will be given later.

For me, Rachel is a hot-wired bundle of passion and facts and is capable of backing-up each one when you realize that she is the recipient of a Rhodes Scholarship and holds a doctorate in politics from the University of Oxford. A smart cookie and not just a cute face, describes her well. 

I find her method of handling the news and its factual content consists of a seemingly innocent 'How To' approach where the story she ends up with is brilliantly pieced together, fact by fact, thread by thread, and character by character. What we end up with at the completion of sixty minutes is a thought provoking piece that begs for more questions to be answered and expects our own intellectual spirit to seek them out. The soufflé is baked, the bookshelf has been completed, and the crops are sown....now, we are encouraged to devour, compile, and harvest the next steps on our own.

You can bet that no matter what political happenings occur during any given day, Rachel will have a unique way of detailing an intricate storyline that night that may or may not include the obvious events presented by the likes of Lester Holt at six-thirty on the evening news. 

Rachel's personality assists in heightening the factual drama of today's political scene that has, seemingly, drifted into the hands of a few competent reporters like manna from the heavens above; Spiritual nourishment of divine origin. When her passion exceeds normal bounds, she begins her show with her long neck flushed with deep color and warmth. She unabashedly gulps in the air around her and proceeds to gasp out the story she has meticulously set-up to tell us. When she is exceptionally unnerved by the content she is revealing, her body bobs and weaves like an Olympic skier mentally navigating each icy turn of his imminent downhill run. 

Interacting with Stephen Colbert this past Monday night, Stephen described Rachel's style as one where she places all of the components of a car out on the front lawn and then proceeds to put the vehicle together bit by bit until it becomes a roadworthy unit. To be able to accomplish this feat in less than an hour always amazes me.

CHRIS HAYES
Photo: Courtesy Wikiquicky.com

                                         

LAWRENCE O'DONNELL
Photo: Courtesy MSNBC

Her nine o'clock time slot is sandwiched between "All In" with Chris Hayes and "The Last Word" hosted by Lawrence O'Donnell where the commitment to in-depth reporting seeks to hold our leaders accountable for their actions while they speak with knowledgeable people who bring different points of view to the table. O'Donnell draws upon his experience as a former chief of staff for the Senate Finance Committee and never fails us when he offers his take on the political stories driving the national conversation. Like younger and older brother figures, each reporter offers his appropriate impact leading up to Rachel's show and the creation of continuity of ideas afterward. Stellar reporting is presented by all!

Rachel is realistic enough to understand that all things must and will change.The style of reporting the public craves today may be in complete contrast to what they require in the future. As long as Rachel Maddow opens up new horizons of accountability among today's politicians, she will have my vote for "Nasty Woman" of the year! Candidate Trump may rue the day he called Hillary, "Such a nasty woman." His spark of impropriety has already lit a fire among women that will never be extinguished.

Copyright © 2017 by Jacqueline E. Hughes

All rights reserved

REFLECTIONS OF CHANGE: A Work In Progress

A series of essays.....

~~THE CHEERFUL GREEN DOOR~~

.....as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

There is something so inspiring about returning to a place you always feel comfortable being at. It may be a certain city or town, a landscape that has heightened your senses or, a house where the front door is calling you to insert key and step inside. In this particular instance, perhaps, all of the above? Dot the map with a red-crowned pin. Follow the directions between point A to point B, and feel the enhanced momentum of your heartbeat as this destination appears through the next cloud formation, the final left turn of your rental car, and right up to the cheerful, green door. It stands regal and dignified as if awaiting verbal acknowledgment for a job well done since the last visit here.

For three months, the heart beats out a certain rhythm. It marks time through a steady cadence of notes and chords, dreamlike in many ways, with a gentle foreshadowing of what joy there is to follow. A future based, partially, upon the past as old relationships weave magic into current ones; new relationships propel us along into astronomical heights, the likes we never knew were even possible. The undertones of encouragement from those who have the uncanny ability to open closed eyes and repair broken promises, guide me into a glorious new world that justifies the hard work and effort that has brought me back to this place, after all of these years.

Now.....standing here bathed in a reflection of green, the faux crystal of an Eiffel Tower key fob scrapes my right wrist as I pull the brass key towards the dead bolt. I return to the scene of the crime, a second home to love and take care of. Forgive me Father for I have sinned. It has been three months since I stood in this exact spot, doing this very same thing. Too long? My life has been torn in two directions: The present and the future. Wrapping-up the present will ensure the future. I understand. But, life takes its own sweet time, in its own sweet way. Who am I to judge?

Copyright © 2017 by Jacqueline E. Hughes

All rights reserved

DO I STAND ALONE ON THE SUBJECT OF GARLIC?

 A series of essays.....

NATIONAL GARLIC DAY ~ APRIL 19, 2017

.....as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

When the English poet, John Donne, composed the poem stating that, "No man is an island, entire of itself, every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main," he was not referring to me. At least, not when it comes down to the growing of, cooking with, or consumption of the garlic plant. 

Evidently, I am that island that stands alone and at a great distance from any and all garlic plants and/or consumers of said plants!

The real reason I bring this up, especially, writing this today, is that it is 'National Garlic Day' around the world and I am forced to attempt to ignore the reality of this celebration.  I, seriously, was never going to mention this minor factoid in public, especially due to my Ukrainian heritage, but here it goes: I hate garlic!

Okay, okay....hate is a strong word and one in which we school our own children never to use. Let's call it a phobia of mine as I do suffer an extreme fear and aversion to.....garlic. 

No. No, I am not a vampire, nor do I claim to own any supernatural or 'black magic' powers that I am aware of.  Thanks to Hollywood and popular literature, we're well aware of the myth that garlic deters all of the above therefore, placing the nugget of possibility into our consciousness that such supernatural powers might exist if garlic happens to be the 'perfect protection' against such things.

Garlic is an onion-like plant (Allium sativum) with a bulb that breaks-up into separable cloves and has a strong and distinct 'odor' and flavor. Garlic isn't dubbed the 'stinking rose' for nothing!!! 

GARLIC PLANT FLOWER HEAD

Even though I own 'Alliumphobia,' (fear of garlic), I will concede to the fact that the flower of this plant is pretty with its white, reds, and various shades of purple that are more than pleasant to the eye. I like flowers. That's where it ends.

America's history with the herb wasn't always a positive one and gourmands frowned on it because it was mainly used in ethnic, working-class neighborhoods. And, they say America doesn't openly show class distinction! Diner slang in the 1920's often called garlic the Bronx halitosis and Italian perfume. It wasn't until the 1940's that America embraced garlic and recognized its (apparent) value.

My aversion to the 'stinking rose' stems from its overpowering taste and smell, how it causes horribly bad breath and, it's odor seeps out from the body's pores days after its consumption. Cooking with it can pervade the air and permeate the vulnerable cloth that succumbs to it, such as kitchen curtains, tablecloths, and clothing, while lingering in them for eons. 

Oh, yes indeed......! I know this first-hand, my friends! 

As a young child, both of my parents worked full time and my dear, Ukrainian Grandmother would watch my older brother, Ronnie, and me until Mom and Dad picked us up after work. Often, however, we would stay for dinner as my Grandmother was never one to cook only 'just enough' and knowing how exhausted my folks were after a long day, prepared ample food to feed a small army.

Grandma had lived and grown-up as a young adult in her homeland, the Ukraine, and, consequently, was taught to cook using 'old world' recipes that were passed down from one generation to another. Garlic, fortunately, was not Grandma's most significant ingredient, as I recall. The distinct aroma of raw and cooked onions pervaded the air at every meal I can remember. Even breakfast consisted of pierogies sautéed in light fat and mixed with slivers of buttery fried onion. These small, dough pouches, filled with a variety of mixtures, had been the boiled pierogies smothered in a combination of cottage cheese and sour cream we had consumed for dinner the night before.

GRANDMA WITH ME ON HER KNEE
AND PAPA BESIDE US

So, I do not have an aversion to onions. Their aroma reminds me of Grandma and all of the long, hard work she would perform every day just to keep many mouths fed and so many people feeling happy and loved.

My afternoons were another story altogether!

Papa Moshak, my Ukrainian Grandpa, would take me on his rounds of the neighborhood when we would check on everyone in their homes to make sure they were not sick or injured, hungry, and most importantly....alone or unhappy. You see, Grandma and Papa were a solid team and absolutely nobody in their neighborhood went without a meal, a friendly face, or a kind word for any reason.

Tucked in Papa's wheelbarrow where containers of Grandma's cooking were stashed around me, we would head-off for the small, durable brick homes that dotted this neighborhood of Mishawaka, Indiana. Papa often packed some of his own tools in the wheelbarrow just in case someone needed something mended or fixed.

Together, we would knock on as many as thirty doors and wait to be let in to say hello and offer food or help. You see, their neighbors were, for the most part, from the 'old country,' too, and I only wish now that I had paid more attention to their jovial conversations. I would love to be able to speak their language today!

As often as Grandma cooked with onions, many of these people preferred cooking with garlic, as they had back home. Their newer, well insulated brick homes in the States were just that and, without opening windows for days on end....the enclosed kitchens (rooms) reeked of stale and recent garlic odors. 

Old Mrs. Stasevich would always give me a huge hug of affection when we entered her back door and, with my nose pressed tightly against her ample bosom covered by a floral, bib apron, the overpowering smell of garlic generously poured from her breath, skin, and the rose-covered cloth. There were no roses, however, to be smelled here!

After visiting with Mrs. Stasevich, we saw Mr. Babikov and presented him with dinner. Later, Papa fixed the kitchen sink of old, Mrs. Mosalev whose red, brick home was close to our last stop for the day and she gave me enough wrapped, hard candies to take home for my brother, as well.

Please don't misunderstand me. I was overjoyed to be treated warmly by so many 'Grandma and Papa' figures as we traveled from house to house. My four-year-old mind and heart recognized and valued the loving nature of these kind souls who often thanked Papa for bringing me around because they were missing their own grandchildren at that moment. You could say that I was kind of a charm for most of them and, in turn, was certainly spoiled because of it.

And, you might think that because of this charmed life I would consider the smell of garlic as a positive and memorable scenario. It was memorable, and I could never get over having to smell so much garlic in so many places almost every day of my young life. I never told Papa this. I never mentioned it to Grandma or my parents, either.

As I grow older myself, I remember with so much joy my wheelbarrow excursions and understand that there must be something said about the apparent longevity of all of these kind, older people who went about their daily lives within their snug, little homes cooking merrily in their kitchens with so much garlic. 

I wish I could have enjoyed learning to love garlic as a child. Just as I wish, as children, we had been taught to speak the old world language of my dear Grandparents and all of their neighbors and friends. 

In honor of that exceptional childhood spent around so many hard working, generous, and kind individuals, I gladly step aside from my solitary, tiny island today and cheer National Garlic Day, April 19, 2017, and pay respect to those families who migrated to this country seeking a better life for themselves, their children, and their grandchildren. 

You see....no man is, truly, an island. And, no man stands alone. Even something you can dislike as much as I do garlic, can bring you together with others in so many remarkable and unforgettable ways. 

A FRENCH MARKET 
SELLING MOUNDS OF GARLIC
Photo: The Good Life France

Copyright © 2017 by Jacqueline E. Hughes

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