Free Kittens

This past summer, we noticed a stray cat helping herself to the cat food left on our porch for my mom's cat, Gus. The stray was a young black and white,skinny, but friendy female, who made herself at home. My brother, Phil, who lived up the road, had just had is dog of 14 years put down, decided to adopt the stray and named her Tina.
As soon as Phil moved Tina up to his place, he started to notice a slight change, Tina seemed to be getting fatter. Yes, Tina was "with kittens!" Too late to spay, Phil let nature take it's course and low and behold, Tina delivered six kittens. There were two black and white, two grey tiger, and two white with grey stripes, three males and three felmales. We went up to his place to see them and take pictures. How cute they were.
As they grew, they started to get restless in their box, soon they were eveverywhere, climbing up the couch, running through the house and quite wild.
I told Phil that they needed socialization, so he started dropping them off ant my moms house before he went to work in the morning. They had a ball outside on the porch. A lot more place to hide and a lot more adventures, as they could explore the yard, as well. To tell you the truth, they were quite entertaining to watch.
I printed several advertisements with the kittens' pictures and hung them up at work and at several public areas around the lake. My neice, Lauren visited over the weekend and the kittens kept her busy for two whole days. What an opportunity to see kittens at play. It might be the last time we experience that joy. It is hard to get rid of them once they're here, you just have to check out the newspaper, "free kittens."

A Letter From Norman

Have you ever written a fan letter? I did back in 1973 when I was know as Janet Nagley, I had just finished reading an autobiography by Norman Rockwell. I was so impressed with his life story, that I was inspired to write him. I really wanted to visit him. I guess after reading his book, I felt like I knew him. What can I say, I was young.

So I wrote him a nice letter and mailed it to Norman Rockwell, Stockbridge, Massachusetts. Guss what? He wrote me back! Do you want to know what he wrote?

Jan. 9, 1073

Dear Mrs. Nagley:

Thank you kind letter and the nice things you said about my work.

Because my schedule is so crowded, I have had to make a rulenot to have visitors at my studio. I know this sounds inhospitable, and I am really sorry, but I just have to stay at my easel without interruption.

Should you decide to come to Stockbridge, and wish to go there, there is a permanent exhibit of my orginals at the Old Corner House here.

I do appreciateyour interest in writing.

Sincerely yours,

(and he signed it) Norman Rockwell

I have kept this letter these many years and over the years I have felt differently about it. At first, I was trilled, then I thought I was a little silly for writing such a letter in the first place. Now I think it was very cool of him to write back at all, kind of sweet.

Well, that's my story, I hope you liked it and maybe you will write a fan letter of your own. Cheers, Janet

1986 Plainfield Farmers' Fair by Janet DiGiacomo

Living in a small town in northeast Pennsylvania in 1986, did not offer one the opportunity to find the perfect job. Since I had lost my position with Easter Seals of New Jersey, I found myself working a part-time job and time on my hands. It was then I decided to enter some flower arrangements in the 58th annual Plainfield Farmers' Fair.
Plainfield is located between Stockertown and Bangor, Pennsylvania, along Route 191. The fair is a small country fair with the main attraction being the demolition derby and tractor pull. Local farmers and young members of the 4-H Club show their cows, calves, sheep and goats. There is a nightly chicken bar b-q and 25 cednt bingo. The public is invited to enter the different competions such as, floral design, baking, canning, needlecraft, photography, horiticulture, sewing, and arts and crafts, just to name a few.
Since I have had success in the past with entering floral arrangements in the Blue Valley Garden Club Flower Show, I thought I would try to make some extra money by participating in the fair. Two weeks before the fair began, I waited in line with about twenty others, to purchase my entry number, exhibt tags, entry form and fair book. The fair book contained various advertisements, a brief history of the fair, rules and regulations and a listing of all exhibits one might enter. Not bad for two bucks.
Under the floral exhibits department, Section 5 Artistic Arrangements, I found five catagories: Island Paradise, Country Living, Over the Rainbow, See You In September, and Here Comes the Bride. First place paid $12.00, second paid $10, third,$8, fourth,$6, and fifth prize paid $4, plus ribbons. All I had to do was to come up with five arrangement ideas that fit each category.
Some ideas came easy, but it really depends on the containers and props you have on hand. One does not want to spend a lot of money on the making of the arrangements if you want to make money. It can become costly if you have to purchase flowers from a florist, I tried to use what I had growing in my garden. For the Island Paradise class, I used a large white seashell as my containerand filled it with a couple of daisy chrysanthemums, astromeria and seeded eucalyptus, which I thought resembled coral. For the County Living class, I filled an old aqua blue canning jar with a simple bouquet of carnations, daisies and blue thistle. I place it, along with a small canning jar filled with dried red beans, on a slab of black slatef.
For the "See You in September," arrangement I used a black and white composition notebook as a base and taped a yellow #2 lead pencil, a small box of crayons and an apple to it. I then put a line of daisies, red carnations and some purple status in an empty tuna can inside a brown paper lunch bag with the top rolled down.
I used a basket filled with colorful flowers and blue ginghan bow to represent the dress Dorothy wore in the "Wizard of Oz" for the "Over the Rainbow" class. I knew the reference to Dorthy was a stretch, but I couldn't think of anything else. For the final floral entry, "Here Comes the Bride," I made a simple white arrangement using a wedding cake top with two white doves.
Besides the floral arrangements, I decided to enter a vegetable quick bread and an angel food cake special state wide contest. Since I had fresh pumpkin in the freezer, I decided to use that as my main ingredient in my vegetable bread. I used a standard angel food cake recipe that called for 13 egg whites. My only concern was how to decorate it, since 10 points were awarded for appearance which included the icing and decorations.
After dropping off my floral arrangements at the fair grounds, I went home and started baking. I found several recipes for pumpkin bread, so I just picked one and added buttermilk, cloves and brown sugar. After baking the angel food cake, I placed the cake pan upside-down on an empty wine bottle and let it dry over night. The next day I prepared an orange flavored glaze for the cake and decorated it with red, white and blue sprinkles. After dropping both cake and bread entries off at the fair grounds, I went home to clean up from my baking and hoped for the best.
After all that was said and done, it was just a matter of time to see if all of my hard work had paid off. Originally, I had entered the fair to win money, but now I was not so sure if I would win anything. There were a lot of entries besides mine. Then I realized that I had accomplished something more. To think that people had been attending and participating in the Plainfield Farmers'Fair for the past fifty eight years was amazing! Now I was one of them. I also thought about the good people who put the fair on each year, they volunteered their time and effort, these dedicated people of Plainfield Township.
That evening, after the judging had taken place, I found out I had plced 5th for the "Island Paradise" entry, 3rd for "Over the Rainbow," 2nd for "See You in September," and 1st in "Here Comes the Bride." Another big surprised came when I found out I had placed 2nd in with my Angel Food Cake, which paid $40.00 in prize money and 1st place with my pumkin bread, which paid $50.00! All together I won $134.00 at the fair, but the biggest pay off was beigh part of an age old American tradition, the farmers'fair.

The Perfect Day by Janet DiGiacomo

My Uncle Leonard and my Aunt Evelyn Matylewicz lived on a farm with their six kids.  Elizabeth, nicknamed Betsy, was the eldest.  Next in line, was my cousin Jane, then Vincent, who was my age, Francis, whose nickname was Tonto, Duane, and Dinah May, the youngest.  My Uncle had a dairy farm at one time, but lightning struck the barn one night and the barn burned down with cows inside.  It was a terrible fire, but not one my cousins awoke durning the chaos, and in the morning when they woke they were horrified to find their beautiful barn, burned to the grown.  My Uncle never replaced the cows, he did have a work horse named Ebby, and an unbroken stallion, my cousin Betsy named Lucky and two ponies, Prince and Charlie.

When I was ten years old, I practically lived at the farm. Summers were especially busy.  Since my Uncle gave up milking, he used his land to plant tomatos, corn and hay.  My Aunt decided to plant the lot next to their large white farmhouse with strawberries.  Every spring the plants would spring up from their winter's nap and large white blossoms would bloom out from under the large green leaves. The reason my Aunt planted strawberries was to keep her kids busy picking berries once school let out.  After we spent the morning picking strawberries, my Aunt would load the back of her station wagon with boxes filled with overflowing quarts of the jucy berries.  Then she would drive over to Lake Winola to peddle the fresh picked berries to the "Lakers."  Of course, Betsy, Jane and I would ride along and everytime she stopped, we would take at least two quarts each to each of the cottages, knock on the door and offer the berries for sale.  We would earn a nickle for each quart we sold. 

One hot June day, after peddling, my Aunt encouraged us to go outside and play, while she baked my cousin's Francis and Dinah's birthday cake.  It wasn't their birthday, but they were both born in June, so she just picked a day to celebrate when she had the time.  It was this day that my cousin, Betsy decided to lead us all into the woods on a hike.  As it happened, my sister Eileen, who was the same age as Dinah,  and I were visiting for the day and we were thrilled to be included. There were eight of us in all, the three boys,
Vincent, Tonto, and Duane, and us girls, Betsy, Jane, Dinah, Eileen and I.  We started past the strawberry field and then past dog kennel, up into the forrest, single file, we followed Betsy, our leader of 13 years old.

The noonday sun filtered through the treetops like golden drops of rain, making our hike almost magical.  One of the boys spied a tiny orange tree frog.  We all took turns looking at it before our shadows frightened under a fallen moss covered log.  We found a fairy ring of mushrooms, which we all agreed must be poisous.  We found two large maple trees with wild grape vines winding around their large branches.  One of the vines had broken off and was hanging down between the trees daring us to take a swing on it, which we did.  Each one of us had a turn on the vine, and in our minds, we were just like Tarzan of the Apes swinging across the jungle!

As we walked along, the path suddenly widened to reveal the sun shinning on a small pond.  There were large boulders long the shore, which we all climbed up upon.  I could almost swear there was a dried up cow's skull, but I'm not sure anymore.  The boys all skipped stones across the glass like surface of the pond until Betsy declared it was time we got back to the house.  We didn't waste any time getting back, because we all knew we had birthdays to celebrate.  Once we got back, what a surprise! My Aunt Evelyn had prepared a large pan of short cake and a punch bowl full of strawberry sauce and fresh whipped cream!
We had strawberry shortcake, as much as we could eat.  The perfect end to a perfect day.

Randy's Road Trip

A true story by Randy Shebby

I answered an ad on Craig’s list from someone who advertised an old working kegerator for sale. My neighbor Shaun went along with me to help load this into the Chevy Blazer. The location was an out of the way place in a town I never heard before located somewhere between Allentown and Bethlehem.

 The directions the GPS was giving lead us deep into the back section where the area became noticeably poor and gray as the homes didn’t receive the upkeep and the cars were pieced together with different color parts. We passed an old banana bike from the 1970’s that was completely painted orange – tires, handlebars, seat, everything was orange. We drove past and then had to turn around as the GPS wasn’t giving accurate directions to the address. We decided it must be this house at the top of the dirt road.

 As we turned into the dirt road driveway there sat a Ford Pinto dragster – or the remains of one; as the body had been extended and the big slicks protruded from the back wheel wells. I hadn’t seen a Ford Pinto hatch back in almost 30 years and had never seen one turned into a dragster. But there it was covered with a few pine needles from the nearby tree.

 We drove up to the top of the driveway and parked near another vehicle. As we got out of the car a man called to us from the other direction. It was a black man dressed in white, it looked like he was wearing an outfit one would see wearing if he worked in an ice cream parlor. He had a white delivery van. We walked over and he said you boys look like two good size men - would you be willing to give me a hand. We both agreed and he took us to where this phone booth was laying on the ground with a pipe and a concrete bottom from where it had been buried in the ground. He asked if we could pick it up and place it in his van. We both grabbed the post and together we tried to lift and it wouldn’t budge. We apologized but told the man that he would probably need a front end loader to move the phone booth. He said well thanks anyways and we proceeded to the house to see if it was the one advertising the kegerator.

 The house where we stopped was surrounded by dozens of plastic bins full of beer cans and bottles stacked so it looked like a wall. A dog was barking, a baby was crying and a woman yelled for her husband. This disheveled young man came out looking rough from the wear and tear and asked if we were here for the kegerator – we said yes and he took us around back to the Bilco doors that lead to the basement. As we walked in there was dirty laundry everywhere and a beat up couch with a small table and tv and a bunch more empty beer bottles. There sat the old kegerator. He plugged it in and showed us that it worked and I asked why he decided to sell it and he said it was his grand fathers and he hadn’t used it in a while and he said he quit drinking. We both looked at each other and thought when – last night? I said well it looks ok – should I write a check? And he said I only take cash – I‘ve been scammed before. I said ok – where’s the nearest ATM? Two miles down the road. I said ok we’ll be back.

 Now this all took less than 5 minutes. As we walked toward the car we noticed the black man dressed in white with the white van was gone and so was the telephone booth. We both looked at each other as this was impossible – we were within earshot of the cars and heard nothing like a front end loader or other people nor did we hear the van leave. It was like it had just disappeared into thin air. We were perplexed, baffled.

 We got into the car and drove to the ATM and got money. The first ATM was out of order and the second we found was inside a supermarket. We got the money and drove back past the orange bicycle and Ford Pinto dragster. We noticed there was a real nice car parked there that hadn’t been there before. The guy came out of the house and we said were back for the kegerator and we gave him the money. I said that’s a nice looking car and he said yeah I just bought it. Again we both thought this is the strangest place – let’s get the kegerator and go. So we dragged it out of the basement and stuffed it into the back of the Blazer and left – leaving the ice cream guy, the orange bicycle and the Pinto dragster behind.

 The person’s grandfather had indeed bought the kegerator back in 1972. It had the paperwork and a user’s guide. This kegerator is different in that the compressor is located on the top – not like one I have ever seen before called the Flagron. Though my neighbor has since left the area the kegerator is still remains in use.

Midnight train to Scranton

     Yesterday as I was driving to work, I was detained by a passing freight train.  When the caboose finally rolled by, it reminded me of my Grandfather Shebby, who had worked on the Erie-Lackawanna for most of his life.  My Grandfather never learned how to drive a car, but went to work on the railroad by hopping on to the back of the caboose as it crossed the railroad crossing.
     Though he was a quiet man, he did have a few railroad stories he told to his grandchildren.  The most facinating tale happened one dark night along a lonely stretch of track between Duryea, and Scranton, Pennsylvania.  Grandpa and a co-worker were sitting in a railroad shack having a cup of coffee, waiting for the midnight train to pass.  It was their job to throw the switch so the train would be on the right track and not run into the 1 AM train traveling up the track from Wilk-Barre.

     According to Grandpa, he had pulled out his pocket watch to check the time and then he head down to the tracks.  As he approched the switch, he could hear the train in the distance.  With both hands on the lever, he felt someone touch his shoulder. "D'ya have a match, Mac?" he heard a voice in the dark ask.  "Wait until I throw the switch," my Grandfather, replied.  When he turned around, no one was there.  Just then, the tain roared by.  After switching the tracks back, my Grandfather, walked back to the railroad shack.  

     Once back at the shack, Gandpa told his co-worker about his eerie encounter, only to find out that it was a common experience to anyone who threw the midnight switch along that pecticular strech of track.  Apparently, it was the last act for the poor man who was killed on the tracks so many years ago, that no one could remembered his name.    

Tell me a story: Suprise Visit From Sister Sally

Tell me a story: Suprise Visit From Sister Sally

Suprise Visit From Sister Sally

“Surprise Visit From Sister Sally” by Thelma Shebby

After graduating from Lackawanna Business College in Scranton, Pennsylvania, my first occupation as a secretary was with the Central Intelligence Agency. It was 1950 and I was with a group of girls who left their small towns in the north east to apply for government jobs in Washington D.C. We were housed in a temporary housing complex used during WWII to house military personnel, known as Arlington Farms. In fact, my sister, Eleanor, lived at Arlington when she was a WAVE in 1943.
Every day, we girls would take a bus from Arlington, Virginia across the Potomac River to go to our jobs in the District of Columbia. We would meet for lunch in the public cafeterias and return to our boarding house after work. Even though we had individual accommodations, we shared a laundry room and the telephone. I mention the telephone because it relates to my story.
I had arrived at Arlington in early July, and with my first paycheck, took the bus into Washington with my friend from Duryea, PA. We were in a huge department store shopping, when one of the girls who had remained at Arlington Farms found us, and who should she have in tow, but my sister Sally and her friend, Joan! What a surprise!
I never got a phone call from my Mother saying Sally and Joan were on their way to visit me. Perhaps because the telephone was always in use at Arlington Farms, she was not able to get a hold of me. Non the less, here they both were. Sally and Joan, both only twelve years old, had traveled from Scranton on a Greyhound Bus, a six hour trip. I was happy to see them, but now I had a problem - what to do with them. We weren’t allowed to have overnight guest in our rooms at Arlington Farms. In those days, I didn’t have a credit card or a check book, for that matter. I had just got my first paycheck and it wasn’t much.
What was my Mother, and Joan’s Mother thinking? Who would send their twelve year old daughters on a six-hour bus trip to Washington D.C. (This is before the interstate was built) How they managed to arrive at Arlington Farms in Virginia is beyond me.
Since I could not take them back to Arlington Farms with me, I quickly found accommodations in a private home where you could rent a room for the night. We couldn’t go sight-seeing too much , as I was new to the place myself. We ate dinner at a nice restaurant and walked up and down Pennsylvania Avenue, down to the Capital building and took a taxi past the White House. Then we went back to the rooming house for a good night’s rest. The next day I put the two girls back on a Greyhound Bus for the six hour ride back to Scranton. How they got back to Lake Winola from there, I’ll never know. I do know that when the bus stopped in Harrisburg, PA, Sally got off to go to the bathroom and the bus took off without her. Her friend, Joan informed the bus driver that he had left without her and he turned the bus around to pick her up!

Post note: When asked about her ordeal, all Sally could say was that she was so spoiled that Mother would let her do whatever she wanted. I think, because both of our birthdays were in July and the fact that it was the first time I was away from home, Sally just missed me and wanted to see me.