Dublin Crew

click to embiggen

One of my favorite things to see, in my neck of the woods, is the Dublin Crew kids rowing on the Scioto.  They practice on the river, and travel to out-of-town regattas.  I love the precision of the team, the graceful way the shells skim over the water.  The cox sits in the stern, facing the rowers, steers the boat, and coordinates the power and rhythm. If I had to choose, I would definitely be the cox.

The etymology of the word "regatta" is debated.  Some say it is derived from the Italian "riga", line, for the starting line, and others consider it derived from the Latin "aurigare", to race.

This kind of competitive rowing has been around for eons, first noted in Egyptian inscriptions in 1430 BC. The first known "modern" racing began with competition among professional watermen that provided ferry and taxi service on the River Thames.

Doggett's Coat and Badge by Thomas Rowlandson

photos by Lisa Aurand

scents of stories

For men and women are not only themselves; they are also the region in which they are born, the city apartment or farm in which they learnt to walk, the games they played as children, the old wives tales they overheard, the food they ate, the schools they attended, the sports they followed, the poets they read, and the God they believed in. It is all these things that have made them what they are, and these are the things that you can't come to know by hearsay...   ―W. Somerset Maugham 

Just as people are a mulligatawny mix, so are places.  They are bowls left with remnants of unique recipes, scraps and scents of stories, wanting to be savored, waiting to be told.  ―me 

image:  from my Abandoned America series, "T-Shirt Window", Delaware, Ohio

eye of a buck

the lucky buckeye I keep in my handbag

Oh where, tell me where was your buckeye cabin made?

Twas built among the merry boys who wield the plough and spade,

Where the log cabins stand, in the bonnie buckeye shade.

Oh what, tell me what is to be your cabin’s fate?

We’ll wheel it to the capital and place it there elate,

for a token and a sign of the bonnie Buckeye state.

--William Henry Harrison's campaign song

Yesterday, when talking about the contents of my handbag, I was surprised some gentle readers did not know what a "buckeye" was. I took it for granted, living in Ohio, that everyone was familiar with the buckeye, the state tree of Ohio. My Hoosier great-grandfather, Glenn Hanna, first introduced me to the buckeye as a little girl, when he gave me one and told me to keep it tucked in my coat pocket for luck.

The common name “buckeye” was derived from the Native Americans who noticed that the glossy, chestnut-brown seeds with the lighter circular center looked like the eye of a buck deer. Native Americans roasted, peeled and mashed the buckeye nut, which they called “Hetuck,” into a nutritional meal. (Okay, my Cherokee  DNA might be begging for a sample, but I'm a bit reluctant.)

Early explorers carried the rare and curious buckeye to the east and reported the Aesculus glabra’s prized medicinal properties and talismanic attribute of wisdom. The extracts from the inner bark of the nut has been used in cerebro-spinal treatments. Some believe that the buckeye relieves rheumatism pain and provides good fortune when carried in pockets or worn as an amulet around the neck. The mysterious nut was used as a general cure-all for generations.

Buckeye, as used as the nickname of The Ohio State University sports teams, was adopted officially by the school as its nickname in 1950, and came to be applied to any graduate of the university. The buckeye nuts can also be dried and strung onto necklaces, particularly popular among Ohio State fans.

Candy Buckeyes

1 1/2 cup powdered sugar

1 1/4 cup peanut butter

4 Tablespoons butter

melted chocolate for dipping

Combine powdered sugar with

peanut butter and butter.

Mix together well.

Roll mixture into 1 inch balls and insert a tooth pick for dunking into melted chocolate. Set chocolate coated balls on wax paper to set. By not having the candy completely covered in chocolate, makes end result looks like a buckeye nut.

Speaking of local candy, I won a box of heavenly maple sugar leaves made by Putnam's Sugarhouse in Charlestown, NH, on Suki's lovely blog, Paint, Poems and Ponderings. Thank you, Suki!

buckeye candy photo borrowed from Google images

high as an elephant's eye

Blue Door Antiques, Sunbury, OH. (Closed. Darn.)

I know. All of you are probably thinking I've fallen off the face of the earth. Forgive me, for it's been over a week since I've been round the bloggyhood . My daughter was home to Willow Manor for a rare week-long visit, so I've shopped till I dropped, staying up to the wee hours listening to all the latest gossip, eating like a complete pig, and participating in wicked killer Scrabble championships. I guess you could say I was making rather merry.

However, like the dutiful blogger, I did take a few photos to share. We visited our favorite sellers of all things vintage this week, including the largest antiques dealer in the Midwest, the massive Heart of Ohio Antique Center, as well as shops in the villages of Powell, Sunbury, and Delaware, Ohio.

The corn in my neck of the woods is super lush this year from all the hot sun and rain; definitely high as an elephant's eye. The skies in Central Ohio were kind enough to give us a glorious display of what I like to call "N.C. Wyeth skies", or in keeping with the "high as an elephant's eye" corn, it was a glorious "oh, what a beautiful morning" Oklahoma kind of sky.

In addition to the ubiquitous corn fields, on our antiquing excursion, we passed wonderful old red barns, court houses in town squares, quaint gas station buildings now used for car repair, and an empty grain elevator, still in use, not for grain, but as a cell phone transmission tower, and last but not least, lots of proudly displayed American flags.

Clockwise: courthouse, Sunbury, OH; empty grain elevator outside Delaware, OH;
car repair shop in Delaware, OH; and a residence in Sunbury, OH.

E crossing the street in Delaware, OH, to Sandusky Street Antiques

So, did I find any goodies? I always find goodies. I like to keep my eye out for interesting pottery, mostly American, of course, although I do collect some West German, and actually found a nice piece of Waechtersbach in Powell, this week. (below, center) A quirky little Pigeon Forge, TN piece (left) found in Sunbury, and a mod aqua McCoy piece (right) waiting for me in Delaware....Ohio, that is. My daughter, E, has an excellent eye and loves to find all kinds of stylish, inexpensive stuff to take back to New York.

my loot from this week

It will take me a while to come down from my "elephant eye" high, but I'll be slowly making my way around to your particular street in the bloggyhood this week. First, I must write a little something about tomatoes for this week's Magpie Tales creative writing prompt. Click HERE to join in the fun! See you soon, my friends. xx

steles

stele: also ste·la (stē'lə) pl. steles also ste·lae (-lē) An upright stone marker or slab with an inscribed or sculptured surface, used as a monument or as a
commemorative tablet in the face of a building.


Every year, I like to take at least one lovely autumnal walk through a cemetery. I enjoy the history, as well as all the various forms of funerary art. There is something very compelling, full of human truths, that draws me to these places of solace and beauty.

Tombstones were relatively simple, like the one of my fifth great grandfather, below, who was a captain in the American Revolution, until Queen Victoria, who after the death of her beloved Albert, in1861, went on a veritable mourning frenzy and led the way in making memorialization fashionable. Cemeteries were not only a pleasant respite from the dirty and noisy cities; they also became large scale public art galleries.

The words carved on Captain Robert "Robin" Hanna's stone are these:

He was a brave defender of his country's rights

and lived and died an honest man.

On one of my last visits to my dear grandfather, who passed away two years ago, at the ripe old age of 93, he took me out to some old rural Indiana cemeteries to locate the stones of our ancestors. It was a beautiful October afternoon and I don't know who enjoyed the day more, he or I.

This month, on my walk through the Oak Grove Cemetery and Arboretum in Delaware, Ohio, this stone, "Pompey King, died Apr. 8, 1844, aged 100 years", caught my eye. I was curious what information I might find on Pompey, so on my return home, I promptly did a bit of research. I found him listed on the Official

Roster of the Sons of the American Revolution Buried in Ohio. He was married September 23, 1815 to Sally Stonemia in Licking County, Ohio. I wonder what he would think about me blogging about him, some 165 years after his death? I wish I knew the origin of his unique name. What was his secret to longevity?

(for ore info o Pompey King,see addendem at the end of this post)

The image on the stone below is full of symbolism. A winged Death, complete with sickle, much like the one pictured in my header, is accompanied by an angel of grief (sorrow), holding an olive branch (peace), and a broken column (early death).

Listed below are other intriguing symbols often depicted in tombstone art. Ivy or a lamp would be beautifully symbolic. I don't know about you, but I don't think I'd like a gourd or skeleton on my stone. Hmm. Maybe a lovely willow tree would be more appropriate?

Anchor - Steadfast hope
Angel of grief - Sorrow
Arch - Rejoined with partner in Heaven
Birds - The soul
Book - Faith, wisdom
Cherub - Divine wisdom or justice
Column - Noble life
Broken column - Early death
Conch shell - Wisdom
Cross, Anchor and Bible - Trials, victory and reward
Crown - Reward and glory
Dolphin - Salvation, bearer of souls to Heaven
Dove - Purity, love and Holy Spirit
Evergreen - Eternal life
Garland - Victory over death
Gourds - Deliverance from grief
Hands - A relation or partnership
Heart - Devotion
Horseshoe - Protection against evil
Hourglass - Time and its swift flight
Ivy - Faithfulness, memory, and undying friendship
Lamb - Innocence
Lamp - Immortality
Laurel - Victory, fame
Lily - Purity and resurrection
Lion - Strength, resurrection
Mermaid - Dualism of Christ
Oak - Strength
Olive branch - Forgiveness, and peace
Palms - Martyrdom, or victory over death
Peacock - Eternal life
Pillow - Deathbed, eternal sleep
Poppy - Eternal sleep
Rooster - Awakening, courage and vigilance
Shell - Birth and resurrection
Star of David - God
Skeleton - Life's brevity
Snake in a circle - Eternal life
Swallow - Motherhood
Broken sword - Life cut short
Crossed swords - Life lost in battle
Torch - Eternal life if upturned, death if extinguished
Tree trunk - Beauty of life
Triangle - Truth, equality and the trinity
Shattered urn - Old age, mourning if draped
Weeping willow - Mourning, grief

This just in...After Roy mentioned in his comment that he thought Pompey King might have been a slave, since they were often named classical names as such, I did a bit more research, and found that Pompey

King was indeed an African American, former slave and pioneer! Serving in the American Revolution was mostly likely his ticket to freedom. He was also listed a member of the First Presbyterian Church. First buried in the Old Burial Ground, his body was later moved to the Oak Grove Cemetery, in Delaware, Ohio. For more Ohio historical info from the Ohio Digital Resource Commons at Ohio Wesleyan University, visit [HERE].

Isn't it curious, that Pompey King and my Capt. Hanna were born the same year and both served our country in the revolution. I wonder if they possibly could have known each other?

Thanks, Roy. This aspect of the blogging community is one of the things I like best. ~x

my neck of the woods

Last Sunday, while the staff was preparing for the manor ball, it was
a perfect day, so WT and I took off in the old green Land Rover on a
glorious fall drive up to Delaware. No, not the state, the little Ohio
town, named after the Delaware Indians.


The main street is the charming typical vintage American

style, and what used to be the business heart of the town, with banks

and hardware stores, is now filled with antique shops and such.

There's a great vintage clothing store with Kramer in the window,

peeping out, one eyebrow raised, from the hats and accessories.

The sidewalks have been nicely bricked and wonderful lush moss
(I know. I am nutty for moss.) is growing between. I found two lovely
brown vintage bottles; a large twelve inch pharmacy bottle, and a
very old nine inch Phillips Cod Liver Oil, New York. Both treasures
for $10.