Philadelphia Flower Show

It snowed on Tuesday. The forecasts seemed to range from nothing to 20 inches. Everything shut down -- including Don's new office and Ashley's school. We were stuck at home watching the snow, then shoveling, then waiting for the plow. A look at FaceBook showed Michele and her family at the Philadelphia Flower Show. What? They are open? Even better based on her pictures, they were really quiet.

We inhaled dinner. Left Ashley (who is allergic to tulips, and with this year's theme being Holland, we knew there would be a lot of tulips) at home, and hightailed it to Philadelphia.

Many people attend the Philadelphia Flower Show for the flowers. For Don, it was the bicycles. In the past he has created a calendar with images of the bicycles of Disney; another year it was bicycles from World War II; I joked next year could be bicycles of the Philadelphia Flower Show.

There seemed to be more bicycles than flowers. Well, not quite.

Bike sharing began in Holland in 1967

The tulip created in honor of Philadelphia

This bike IS as heavy as it looks

Blue tulips created by dipping them in blue dye, not grown that way

I broke my streak of taking pictures without other people in it

I've seen carved pumpkins before, but not carved watermelons,
cantaloupes, and butternut squash

Floral displays inspired by famous paintings

Miniature art -- hard to shoot through the glass

Bicycles everyhwere

Non-tulip displays were rare

Grilled Cheese and Tomato Soup Run

This year it was tough to get out the door to do the Grilled Cheese and Tomato Soup race. I really enjoyed this four-mile race last year, but this year temperatures were in the low 20s, it was breezy out. On the other hand, I have yet to DNS (Did Not Start) and didn't want to make this one it.

The race was set to start at 10. By 9 Don was pretty convinced he wasn't doing it. I messaged Gabrielle, who said she was still on for it. Since at this point the decision was all mine, I decided to go for it. Which then encouraged Don to also run.

Yes, it was colder this year -- but there was no snow and no ice. It wasn't windy after all. All that was needed was enough layers.

Despite being told at packet pick-up there was no "Spiral of Death" at the beginning like there was last year, it was the same course as last year. We use the first 3/4 of a mile to get into the right pace group. My GPS watch refused to connect, so I was running without my usual intervals, and at an unsustainable pace (for me). Don passed me when I took my first walk interval, not to be seen again until we passed at the turn around point. Gabrielle was WAY far ahead of me the whole time. She looked great in her plaid sparkle skirt (which I didn't get to take a picture of) and green sweater. 

I finished at 43:40.8 with a sub 11 minute/mile pace -- quite possibly my fastest pace yet for a race, and at least a minute faster overall from 2016 (or about 15 seconds faster per mile!).

All was not joy in Mudville. By the two mile mark I was regretting not having an carbs. A shot of Gatorade at the finish line fixed that. Unfortunately waiting in that line meant by the time I made it to the tomato soup line they were out of tomato soup. But wait! They are getting more! It was a cold wait under the gazebo. Don had dashed to the line ahead of Gabrielle and I and got the last of the tomato soup (not enough to share). I really wanted that soup, so we waited at least 15 minutes for more soup.

An apology was sent out the next day. They used the same algorithm this year as they did last year, but did not factor in that the weather was much colder this year. I suppose the fast runners took more than they did last year, leaving the rest of us without soup (and clueless that they did). When the truck returned with more soup we were told to only have half a cup. I was only fourth in line and had no troubles getting soup, but the line was mighty long. My friend Kim said they gave up on the wait. 

This year they sold out at 525 spaces. A hearty 399 finished the race (not sure if others started and DNF'd). There were even a few people cheering on the runners. They had the toughest job of the day.

As for next year, I do like the race. It was cheap (only $20 with early registration). Nice mug at the end. As with all races -- very dependent on the weather. I'll have to think about this one.

Presbyterian meets Purim

Sunday afternoon there was a knock on our front door. On the other side was a woman bearing this box of goodies, and a letter.

The letter reads:

Happy Purim!
One of the nicest traditions on Purim is giving the gift of food to friends. This is called a "Mishloach Manot" (Mish-LO-ach MaNOTE) - the sending of gifts. According to Jewish law, one should give a gift of two different types of food to at least one person. This law is described in the Book of Esther (9:22) as part of the proper celebration of Purim. The giving of gifts to one another helps to create a feeling of community closeness and hope at a time of year when we are still burdened with the bleakness of winter. There is a rabbinic teaching that we should not only give gifts to friends, but to someone who is new in the community, to those who are needy, and to those whose spirits would be bolstered by knowing that someone cares.

That last line in particular, whose spirits wouldn't be bolstered by knowing that someone cares?

Christianity and Judaism are very closely tied, however the tradition of Purim disappeared as we took on new traditions. In the religions calendars, Purim seems most closely tied to Mardi Gras or Carnival. Included in Purim celebrations is wearing costumes and partying. What I really like is the Purim celebrations include reading from the book of Esther and booing when the bad guy's (Haman) name is mentioned and cheering for Mordecai (Esther's cousin who encouraged her to stand up to Haman) and Esther. Hearing this reminded me of the children's plays I would take Ashley to at Hopewell's Off-Broadstreet Theatre, but without the thunderstorm Bob Thicke would always include.

A small Purim fact that has stuck with me ever since my friend Dave shared it with me:

What I find interesting about the Purim story is that megillah (the book) lists Ethioia as one of the countries where the word went out to fast to give Esther strength, but Ethiopia is not listed in the countries where it says the word went out that they were successful (in stopping Haman) and then when it was found that Ethiopian Jews were still practicing it as a fast.

In any case, receiving the basket was even more special to me because I had only heard about the tradition for the first time a week earlier when I attended a Rosh Chodesh meeting at our local synagogue, which meets in my church. Rosh Chodesh means the first day of the Jewish month, as marked by the new moon. An ancient tradition that disappeared for a long time only to come back within the past 50 years is that on Rosh Chodesh the women have a day off (who needs International Women's Day only once a year, when you can have this 12-13 times a year) from their daily work because they refused to give their gold earrings because Aaron ordered their husbands to part with their gold in order to build a golden calf (which obviously is wrong). Since the women were right in the long run, they are given a day off from sewing, spinning, and weaving (skills used to help build the Tabernacle). 

Don and Ashley are enjoying the treats. I am glowing in the sentiment. The box is filled with Israeli sweets, including homemade Hamantashen (tri-cornered cookies in the shape of Haman's pocket, though there is other possible symbolism). The chocolate one was particularly tasty.

Thank you Nancy and Peggy for thinking of us and including us in your tradition.

The Shimmering Road

My favorite hometown author, Hester Young, just came out with her second novel, "The Shimmering Road." In 2015 I was given an Advanced Reader Copy of her first novel, "The Gates of Evangeline" in exchange for writing a review in my blog. This year I did not receive an advanced copy, so when I heard her speak at the local Barnes and Nobles the day the book came out, I did not have a chance to read it first.

Reading her second book I am still as much in awe with her storytelling abilities as I was in August 2015. She has a real talent for putting in just enough details that you feel as if you have entered the scene. Somehow, though, in a book with nearly 400 pages, none of these words seems superfluous, they all seem to be the exact right word and deserves to be on the page. As someone who edits as one of my many hats, I read the book with my mouth agape and my eyes firmly wide open. I devoured it in barely two days. I quickly left a review on Goodreads.com raving about the book. Wished I could have given it more than five stars.

I'm so glad I made it to her book reading. Hearing her read a few pages from the opening of the book was enough to place her voice in my head as I read the rest of the book. Each character has a clear and distinct personality. The setting plays a huge role in her novels. The first one was set in Louisiana (not coincidentally near where her family lives). The second one takes place on both sides of the Arizona-Mexican border (where she worked post college). The third one, she announced, will take place in Hawaii (where she went to graduate school). It is a planned trilogy, but she says she has plans for more books after these three. Wonder how long before one of her thrillers takes place where I live.

It is rare I put a book review in The Pillsbury Press. That is an indication of how much I really love this book and want this author to succeed.

Happy reading!

International Women's Day

Today is International Women's Day. The day of women. 

A bunch of women called for all women to strike today. Recognizing that not all women can just call out today (for economic or other reasons), they could just wear red. Everyone will know wearing red means they support the effort. Well, if they don't own anything red, they can just wear hot pink. 

Hearing about this strike reminded me of something we heard while in Iceland. Back in 1975 the women held a strike. They did not go to work, do household chores, do any childcare. Basically they showed the men of Iceland what they do and how it impacts the country. NINETY percent of the women participated. Some shops, factories, and schools closed forcing men to take their children to work with them. More than 25,000 women turned out in Reykjavik to protest (more than 10% of the country's 220,000 people).

The end result was a massive turning point in women's equality and women's rights. Only five years later they elected their first president who was not a man -- the first in Europe. (Source BBC article) They have the reputation for being "the world's most feminist country." The next day things went back to normal, but the seeds were planted and changes were made.

What really impresses me about the strike in Iceland is it took place long before social media. They managed to get the word out and build momentum without constant email, FaceBook, and Twitter reminders. The movement struck a chord with many women and it happened.

When I first heard about the plans to have a similar day off in the United States I was excited. I didn't clear my calendar, or travel to DC, but kept my ears open. It was called "A Day Without Women." As you have probably figured out by now, it didn't turn out the same way as it did in Iceland. I may know of one person who went (a cousin who lives in DC), some people wore red (but I did not see a sea of red), others said negative things about the whole idea and purposely did not wear red. And this is in the age of in-your-face media.

I really think our country is too divided as a whole for the movement to catch on right now. We are divided politically, and divided within those divisions by how to prioritize what divides us, then subdivided again and again. Until we can at least unite behind one cause, a national movement such as today's is doomed to fail.

Meanwhile I do hope a rally is planned in Trenton on April 22 to support our scientists and scientific research. That is one I can get behind.

The Breakfast Club

My trail friend and inspiration, Maggie, introduced me to New Hope's Fred's Breakfast Club. The Breakfast Club is owned by the same people who own The Landing, a tourist hot spot open to one and all for breakfast and dinner. This nondescript building is only open to members, as has been their practice since opening in 2008.

Since Fred's has its own website and Facebook page I feel I am not giving away any deep secrets. Mostly I am sharing with you my charming experience.

Before entering, you must leave your grumpies outside. It is a rule. It is the most important rule. When you come in you put your name on a list, grab free coffee and tea, and mingle. Everyone is seated at a giant counter facing the kitchen. Though the restaurant closes at 11, you can hang out as long as you want. If a long line starts to form, they will politely encourage you to move along and let someone else dine. As they can only seat 31 people, and prefer to have most of the seats filled at all times in order to stay in business, it is a tough juggling act.

Remember I said it is a members only dining establishment? Membership costs $20 and comes with an electronic key fob. The door is set to be able to open only between 6 AM and 11 AM. Come at 11:02, and your key fob will not work. Knock on the door and perhaps someone will let you in. There can be a wait list for new members that ranges from a couple of weeks to a few months. When the wait is 90 minutes on a weekend, they don't want to add members. When there are empty seats they do. It is up to the owners' discretion. Maggie was lucky and was granted membership pretty quickly. I suspect the wait is longer in the summer months, but I have nothing to base that on.

The place has the feel of a 50s diner. I was surprised the chairs were not attached to the floor, but they are stools that move (if I return, I will try to get a better picture). The atmosphere is congenial, bordering on lively. Most people know each other (they are members, after all), so the conversations last from the unmarked front door to the lobby to the seating area to their seat and back again into the parking lot.

As with The Landing, Fred's Breakfast Club is located on the Delaware River and faces this view:

If I was writing an advertorial for them, it would probably start with "Take a step back in time to a day when spending time with friends in person was the norm instead of the exception. Take the time to make new friends as you enjoy a made to order meal cooked in front of you."

If I am really lucky, Maggie will invite me back to spend more time getting to know her and her friends.