RED-TAILED HAWKS

For almost 6 years now, I have enjoyed the antics of a pair of Red-tailed Hawks who live in a tree near the back of my property. I love to watch these beautiful birds floating high above the trees, gracefully gliding through the air.

Red-tailed Hawks are large birds with razor sharp talons and can be very aggressive when defending nests or territories. They frequently chase off other hawks, eagles, and Great Horned Owls.

The Red-tailed Hawk is the most common hawk – raptor – in North American occupying just about every type of open habitat on the continent. This includes grasslands, roadsides, deserts, scrublands, pastures, parks and even rainforests. They love to soar above open fields, slowly turning in circles on their broad, rounded wings looking for prey. They also enjoy sitting on telephone poles or other tall structures watching for a meal.

Mammals make up the majority of the Hawks diet, including voles, rats, mice, rabbits, squirrels and snakes. Yes, I’ve seen my Red-tails flying by with a snake clutched in their razor sharp talons. They will also eat other birds: starlings, blackbirds, bobwhites and pheasants.

It is this love of other birds that lead to a hilarious sight a few weeks ago when I came home from work. As I pulled off the highway into my subdivision, I noticed one of my Red-tailed Hawks frantically flying overhead, but he (or she) was not alone. Hot on the Hawks red tail were three Starlings. The Starlings were dipping and weaving, trying their best to attack the swift Hawk. I can only surmise Mr. or Mrs. Red-tail had decided on baby Starlings for lunch. As Starlings are the one bird I dislike, I was rooting for the Hawks.

The Red-tailed Hawk has a raspy scream sounding exactly like a raptor should sound. It is this shrill calling that alerts me to the adventures of my Hawks. I enjoy sitting in the backyard and watching their aerial acrobatics.

The largest female Red-tailed Hawk only weighs about three pounds, but it is still one of the largest birds on the continent. The Hawks typically hunt in pairs, each guarding opposite sides of the same tree in order to catch a squirrel.

Both male and female Hawks help with building the nest, many times just refurbishing their nest from a previous years – this is what my Hawks do, because their nest is always in the same tall tree. Usually the nests are tall piles of dry sticks and the inner aspect is lined with bark strips, fresh foliage, and dry vegetation. Red-tailed Hawks typically put their nests in the crowns of tall trees where they have a commanding view of the landscape. They have also been known to nest on a cliff ledge or on artificial structures such as window ledges and billboard platforms.

Courting Red-tailed Hawks can be seen soaring in wide circles very high in the sky. The male will make a steep dive, and then shoot up again at an equally steep angle. He performs this ritual several times before approaching the female from above. He will extend his legs and briefly touch the female before flying away. Occasionally, the pair will grab onto each other by clasping talons and spiraling downward – they will then pull away before coming near the ground. Mated pairs typically stay together until one of the pair dies.

After courtship, the mother usually lays three eggs and sits on the eggs to keep them warm while the father hunts and feeds her. The babies will hatch after 30 days and they are covered with white down. The babies learn to fly just before they are two months old, but they still depend on their parents for food. During the summer, the fledglings follow their parents around, watching and learning how to hunt. Because Red-tailed Hawks are very territorial, it may be hard for the young hawks to find a new place to live. They typically leave the parents after the first year, but they are two or three years old before they mate and start raising babies of their own.

I’ve had the privilege of watching my pair go through the mating ritual several times and it is beautiful to behold. For the past two summers, this ritual has produced two hatchlings each year. When I saw the first set of babies learning to fly, it was so fascinating. All summer and fall I watched the babies learning to hunt with the parents, but then when colder weather was here to stay, I lost track of the babies.

By the following spring, the babies were not longer flying high with the parents. I’m not sure where the babies migrated to, but they haven’t stayed around with their parents. I guess when young Hawks fly the coop they stay gone.

Red-tailed hawks usually live six to seven years in the wild, so I’m preparing for my pair to be gone in the next few years. I just hope they are replaced by another pair of lovely hawks – maybe the offspring of my current pair - because there is nothing better than forgetting the stresses of the day by watching the free forms of the Red-tailed Hawk.

Wedding Bells

“Amber, I am going to try and make you the happiest, healthiest baby alive. I want to make sure I do everything right. I love you so much, I want you to have the best life has to offer. When you’re older, I don’t want you to hesitate to come to me with your problems – I will always be here for you and so will God. He is the one that made it possible for you to be here and he will always have the answers you seek. Amber, you are the most precious little girl alive. You will always be my little angel and I love you with all my heart.”

(Excerpt of a letter by me from the baby book of Amber Dawn Huffman, written September 16, 1982)

The day was rainy, but there was nothing but happiness in my heart. “Tuesday’s child is full of grace” – this verse from the Mother Goose rhyme “Monday’s Child” was making me smile in spite of the rain. My first born child will be a girl full of grace - a child I knew in my heart was a daughter, although I had never had an ultrasound. The date was September 14, 1982 and Amber Dawn Huffman came into this world, screaming at the top of her lungs, at 1:31 in the afternoon – a Tuesday afternoon.

At 20 years old, my dream of being a mother had finally come true. After a short labor and extremely easy delivery, my first bundle of joy – all 5 pounds and 14 ounces – was placed in my arms and I knew I was the happiest woman on earth. Even though she was three weeks overdue, she was tinier than I had expected, especially after gaining 20 pounds. I guess most of the weight was due to the plain M&Ms I consumed on a weekly basis.

(Amber sitting on Granny Sallee's lap - age 5 months)

I was so scared the day we brought her home from the hospital. Her father worked nights, so I was going to be home all alone with a newborn. What if I couldn’t quiet her when she cried? What if I didn’t have enough breast milk to feed her? What if she got sick? What if, what if? I was so nervous I think I called my own mother three or four times before the night was over, and this was before speed dial and cell phones.

By the time Amber was one month old, she had doubled her birth weight – three cheers for mother’s milk. No longer a skinny newborn, my beautiful daughter now had little ham hocks for legs. And she was no longer bald because tiny wisps of blond hair were starting to peek through.

For her first Christmas, Amber was three months old and she was smiling and kicking her legs whenever she was awake. She was such a happy baby and she loved for family to carry her around - and carry her around they did. She turned into a typical first child who demanded to be carried whenever she was awake. She received a high chair from her maternal grandparents on Christmas Eve and within months she was able up and start on solid foods.

(Learning to walk - age 1)

Before I could blink my eyes, I was planning Amber’s first birthday party. Where did the time go? We had a house full of family and friends to help us celebrate the day. Amber was taking her first tentative solo steps and she enjoyed tip-toeing from one person to another. When she stuck her entire face into the birthday cake I baked for her, I caught myself crying and wishing she would never grew up.

(Dressed as Rainbow Brite - age 3)

For her second Halloween I dressed Amber up as Raggedy Ann. By her third birthday she was in love with all things Rainbow Brite and she had a younger sister, Carolyn Marie. When she was four years old she joined the Mission Friends group at church and sang in the preschool choir. The years were flying by at warp speed.

(My family at my nursing school graduation; from right to left: Amber, Marie, Mom, Dad, and Granny Sallee - May 12, 1990)

When it was time for Amber to start school, we both started at the same time – she in kindergarten and me in nursing school. Those three years of my nursing school career were the hardest times of my life. I was a single mother with two small children, but we all managed to survive healthy and whole, and we are stronger for it. Of course, I never would have made it through the tough times if it weren’t for my wonderful children – they were the reason for everything I did.

(3rd grade - 1990)

Elementary school flew by in a haze – PTO, teacher meetings, parent volunteer days and even though I was working the night shift, I always made time to attend all of Amber’s activities. Middle school brought her first dance and a whole new set of worries. Hormones and acne, boundaries and groundings, like most young teenagers she gave me a run for my money. But she was never in any serious trouble and always kept up with her school work.

(Age 16)

Soon she was moving on to high school, with an unpleasant surprise. Chicken pox at the age of 15 was a hard pill to swallow and we both learned that home schooling was not something we enjoyed. High school graduation was a blur of smiles and tears – graduating with honors, I could not have been more proud of my oldest daughter. Intelligent, beautiful and self-assured, Amber was ready to make her mark on the world. No longer a child, this young adult was now full of hopes and dreams of her own.

(Age 17 - senior picture)

My baby is now 26 years old and beginning the next phase of her life. She has found the man of her dreams – Jason Wilham – and they will be married in just a few weeks on June 20th. I am so happy for the love my daughter has found and I am confident her future will be bright.

(Amber and Jason - Christmas 2007)

So as I stress and worry about the upcoming wedding, one thing is clear in my head – I’m not losing a daughter, I’m gaining a son. And although I’m not rushing things, I feel I’m one step closer to beginning the next chapter in my life with bundles of grandchildren.

Congratulations Amber Dawn Huffman and Jason Wilham!

The Joy of Amusement Parks

I have always been a sucker for theme parks: Silver Dollar City (now Dollywood), Ghost Town in the Sky, Kings Island, Opryland, and Beach Bend were just a few I visited as a child. But one of my favorite Kentucky attractions - Tombstone Junction – is no longer in operation.

Tombstone Junction was a Wild West themed park just outside of Corbin, Kentucky and it featured a real steam engine train and live “country” entertainment. Tombstone Junction had a railroad system of its own and was subjected to many “train robberies” over the years. These train robberies used to scare me as a child, but I always insisted on riding the train.

As a teenager, I was privileged to see Tanya Tucker and Glenn Campbell, Conway Twitty, Waylon Jennings and a few others I’ve long since forgotten. Unfortunately, or fortunately as my hubby likes to say, I grew out of the country music phase, but as a young child, I loved listening to my parent’s music. I even had a real “Tombstone Junction” cowboy hat I used to wear to the park.

All that remains of Tombstone Junction today is an empty parking lot, one crumbling shack, and some decaying bits of what was once the billboard, along with the memories of those who say the park in its glory days.

Another western amusement park I enjoyed as a child was Silver Dollar City in Pigeon Forge. Renamed Dollywood in 1986 when Dolly Parton bought the park, the old Silver Dollar City was started in 1961 - one year before I was born. It began life as Rebel Railroad, and changed names again in 1966 when it became Goldrush Junction, before finally becoming Silver Dollar City in 1977, named after the original Silver Dollar City in Branson, Missouri.

Dollywood is organized into several different themed areas including the Show Street, Rivertown Junction, Craftsmen Valley, the Country Fair and Timber Canyon. These areas reflect the historical eras and culture of east Tennessee. When Dolly bought the park, the Dreamland Forest and Adventures in Imagination areas were added and these emphasize Parton's life and imagination. Many attractions at Dollywood preserve the history and culture of the Southern Appalachian region.

Show Street includes the Show Street Palace Theatre, were most of the musical shows are performed and The Southern Gospel Museum and Hall of Fame. Rivertown Junction includes the Tennessee Mountain Home, the Back Porch Theatre, and the Smoky Mountain River Rampage whitewater rafting ride.

Craftsmen's Valley is my personal favorite and I usually spend the majority of my time at Dollywood in this area. In addition to the Dollywood Grist Mill, this area includes the Eagle Mountain Sanctuary, Wings of America Theatre, all the craft exhibits and Blazing Fury coaster. Blazing Fury is an enclosed steel roller coaster and was built in-house by Silver Dollar City Tennessee in 1978, prior to the park becoming Dollywood

Since my children are older, we rarely visit the Country Fair because this is the area with the children’s rides including the Dizzy Disk, the Amazing Flying Elephants, Dolly's Demolition Derby, the Scrambler, and the Wonder Wheel. We do visit the Village because this is where the train station is for the Dollywood Express steam engine – a “must ride” for every visit. When Christine was younger, the Dreamland Forest was her favorite area of the park, especially the Dreamland Forest interactive play area and the Mountain Slidewinder water-toboggan ride.

Kings Island is another family favorite amusement park, located just outside of Cincinnati, Ohio. The park owns close to 775 acres of land, but only 364 acres are currently developed. Kings Island was opened in April 1972, just before my 10th birthday, and I visited the park for the first time when I was 12 years old. Kings Island gained nationwide attention when it was featured on a 1972 episode of The Partridge Family, and again in 1973 on an episode of The Brady Bunch.

The centerpiece of Kings Island is the Eiffel Tower, a one-third scale replica of the original Eiffel Tower. Elevators regularly take patrons up to the top of the tower, which offers a view of the entire park and, at park closing, offers the best view of the nightly fireworks display. Because of my extreme fear of heights, I have only been on top of the Eiffel Tower twice, once on my first trip to the park and once on the first date with my husband.

One of the first star attractions of the park was the twin roller coaster, the Racer. The Racer is a traditional wooden out-and-back coaster and is credited for reigniting the second golden age of the roller coaster. To honor the Racer’s staying power, the American Coaster Enthusiasts the Racer an “ACE Roller Coaster Landmark” during a ceremony at the park in 2008, making it one of only 14 coasters in the world with landmark status. Ten years after Kings Island opened, the right car of the Racer was turned backwards and remained on a backward course until last year. For the 2009, both Racers will be once again running in a forward motion.

My favorite roller coaster at Kings Island is the Beast. When the Beast was built in 1979, it was the tallest, longest, and fastest roller coaster in the world at the time. After nearly 30 years, it still holds the title of the world's longest wooden roller coaster at 7,419 feet (1 ¾ miles). The Beast tracks spread across a densely-wooded, 35 acre site and the rugged terrain adds to the excitement of the ride. Top speed of this coaster is 70 miles per hour and the ride lasts almost four minutes. In addition to two huge vertical drops, the cars go through three dark tunnels and makes a 540 degree helix turn near the end of the line. The Beast has been my favorite roller coaster for almost 30 years.

In addition to several more roller coasters – Vortex, King Cobra and Son of beast – Kings Island is home to several water rides and a huge water park featuring several slides, a wave pool, a lazy river and other attractions.

Of course, after spending all day enjoying the rides, great food and other entertainment, you must stay until closing time to see the spectacular fireworks display – it’s the perfect way to end a memorable day at the park.

I’m not sure I will ever outgrow my love of amusement parks. Not only are they fun places to spend time with your family, but they are great at making you feel like a kid again. It seems like the older I get, the more I enjoy a great roller coaster ride. Now I’m looking forward to spreading this joy to my future grandchildren.

Most Days Lead to Granny

Most days take me back to Granny. There in the warm coziness of her four-room house or outside in her tiny yard, I would follow her like a shadow on a sunny day, mimicking her every action. Granny would be crocheting a new afghan and I would sit patiently with my crochet hook like a surgeon wanting to start a delicate operation as I watched her knobby, arthritic hands manipulate the yarn with the speed of a typist. Granny would complete a row and then show me another stitch before moving on to start another row. I never did learn to crochet as well as Granny, but then again, I’ve never been able to do any of the miracles as well as she.

Baking cookies was always a thrill and Granny never seemed to mind the mess, and believe me, there was always a mess. Mixing the thick sugar cookie batter and then rolling it out on a slab of marble. When the dough was rolled to the right thickness, Granny would hand me a juice jar to use as a cookie cutter. Dipping the open end of the jar into a bowl of snow-white sugar, I would cut out one cookie after another. I was married with a child of my own before I realized you could buy preformed cookie cutters in all shapes and sizes.

While the cookies were baking in the old gas oven, Granny would mix up the frosting, several different colors – red, yellow, green and blue. The green was always my favorite and by the time we had finished frosting each cookie, I would end up with green lips from tasting so much frosting. Back then no one worried about how bad all the sugar was on a growing child and grandmothers were always trying to feed their grandchildren. Later, when my Mom would pick me up, Granny would send us home with a fresh tin of cookies and fresh memories I would look back fondly on in my later years.

Graveyards and cemeteries have always been some of my favorite places to visit, and when I was a child, I loved walking through row after row of old tombstones and statues looking for great grandfather so-and-so or great grandmother so-and-so or aunt and uncle so-and-so. This may be a morbid activity for a young child, but my Granny loved visiting these places and paying her respect for ancestors who have gone before us. Mom would usually take us – Granny, my brother and sister, and me – on Sunday afternoon drives. We would end up in the cemeteries of Deep Creek or Antioch or Bruner’s Chapel and my siblings and I would have free rein to run and play while Mom and Granny would clear weeds away from tombstones.

Although I have a fairly extensive family history I have been working on for many years, I can’t remember exactly who is buried in what graveyard, but I can find each family tombstone from all the cemeteries we used to visit. I remember walking down a deep hillside at Deep Creek, I remember walking up a small rise at Bruner’s Chapel, and I remember someone is buried near the old outhouse at Antioch. My childhood memories can carry me to these places like someone walking in a dream.

Another autumn adventure occurring on these Sunday afternoon drives was gathering bittersweet vine for fall decorations. Traveling the old back roads to the out of the way cemeteries, we would find bittersweet growing wild on fencerows near the road. Now a day, I would never dream of pulling over to the side of the road and gathering wild vines, but in the late 60s and early 70s this is exactly what we did. We would go home with the car trunk full of bittersweet vines full of bright orange berries. Granny would make wreaths or table decorations to help brighten the house for fall.

Gathering hickory nuts is another autumn adventure I loved to help with. Granny had friends who owned a farm near Perryville and one field of the farm had five or six hickory nut trees. We would fill several large sacks full of nuts, knowing Granny would use them in her wonderful jam and orange slice cakes, or in fudge or fruit salad. Once we had the nuts back home, we would sit in Granny’s side yard and remove the hulls from each nut. Although not as messy as working with black walnuts, the green hulls would still stain our hands. Mom and Granny would then crack the shell of each nut and carefully work out the sweet meat inside. It would take hours just getting a small bowl of nuts, but we knew the reward was worth it.

Although my Granny loved to sew and make crafts, I think her first love was working with plants in her small yard. Elephant ears were one of her favorite plants and she would grow the same bulb over and over again every year. During the summer, the huge green Elephant ears would grow happily in old buckets on the back porch. When the air started to chill in the fall, Granny would drag the buckets to the crawl space below the house. After wrapping the entire bucket in layers of old newspaper, the elephant ears would over winter in the dark dampness of this small cramped space, getting just enough warmth from the furnace pilot light to keep from freezing and damaging the root bulbs. Every few years, Granny would repot the elephant ears, harvesting baby bulbs to turn into new plants.

Granny also enjoyed growing sage in the tiny flower garden between her home and her next-door neighbor’s house. She kept the flowers plucked off each sage plant in order for the leaves to grow big and fat. During the late summer and early fall, Granny would start harvesting the sage leaves, lining them on paper plates and allowing them to dry on the back porch if it was a sunny day, or placing them on top of the refrigerator where it was warm. Granny would then use the sage for making her wonderful dressing on Thanksgiving and Christmas. My mother still grows and dries sage in the same manner as Granny and her dressing is always the highlight of the holiday season.

Sewing, gardening, baking and crafting, in my opinion, there was nothing my Granny couldn’t do – except maybe drive a car. Granny never learned to drive and never had any desire to learn to drive, depending on my Mom and aunt to take her the places she needed to go. It is because of Granny I love to work in my gardens, although my plants never seem to grow as good as Granny’s did. It is because of Granny I love to sew and craft, but my fingers will never be as nimble as Granny’s were. It is because of Granny I love to bake – although I hate cleaning up the mess – but my desserts will never stand up to the delectable sweets she would create.

Granny has been gone for 24 years, but I still think of her often. Although all my memories of her are happy memories, it saddens me to know my children and my husband never got to know her. In recent years the motto, “What would Jesus do?” has become very popular, but whenever I’m in doubt about something, I catch myself asking, “What would Granny do?”

School Days, School Daze

School days, school days
Dear old golden rule days
Readin' and ritin' and rithmatic
Taught to the tune of a hickory stick ...

Are there people you try to remember more clearly, phantoms you'd like to reach back into the past and take a firm hold of? What do you remember of your early school years? High school years? College years? These are questions my best friend and I were reminiscing about a few weeks ago and I couldn’t believe it has really been 29 years since I graduated from high school? Where have the years gone? In recalling these memories, I was amazed at the details I remembered from certain years, while other memories I only had a vague recollection.

My first foray into the world of education was kindergarten at Lad & Lassie. I don’t remember much from this time in my life, but there are a few things I can remember with clarity. I remember the cold feel of the leather car seat on the backs of my bare legs as Daddy would drive me to school. I normally wore a skirt or dress with knee socks and this left the backs of my legs exposed to the elements when I would sit down. I remember the "play" we put on - everyone dressing and acting out a part in a circus. My best friend at the time Jennifer "General Foods" and I were the double-headed fat lady - both of us inside the same dress with our heads and one arm a piece in each sleeve. For the life I me, I don’t remember why I called her General Foods, unless it was because Jennifer and General sounded alike.

First grade was at Rose Hill Elementary in 1968 - the last year the school was open. At six years old I had this huge puppy crush on Duane, who was an older man, a mature seven years old. I got in trouble one day because I wrote him a note and then pushed it through a crack in the wall between my classroom and his. I was humiliated when his teacher brought the note to my teacher and then proceeded to read it out loud to the classroom! I also remember having a field day or party day, and my Mom got to come and bring my little brother, Brent. I got so upset when Brent tripped and rolled down a hill on the side of the school yard. I was so afraid he was hurt, but he managed to end up with only a few scratches.

When the Mercer County Elementary School first opened, I was in the first second grade class. I don’t remember much from second grade, but third grade was a different story. I took my best friend's, Ella Jean, turtle out of his bowl on pet day and put him on the table. Then, during the morning Pledge of Allegiance, the turtle walked off the table and fell to the floor - Ella Jean was furious and the Miss McGinnis made me stand in the corner. I also thought it was okay to sharpen my yellow crayon in the pencil sharpener on the wall; this earned me my one and only spanking at school. Actually, I didn’t get a true spanking – the teacher took me into the supply closet and told me to never sharpen my crayons in the pencil sharpener again. She took the paddle and smacked her hand with it twice to make noise and then told me not to tell anyone. After that, Miss McGinnis was my hero!

Seventh grade at Mercer County Junior High – we all thought we were so big back then. No longer with the younger kids at the elementary school, we were one step closer to being with the cool kids in high school. This was the year I let several people touch my legs because everyone thought I was wearing pantyhose with my shorts. Fact was I used to tan brown as a berry from days spent in the sun and my legs were just naturally dark. This was also the year I started to seriously keep a journal, something I’ve continued to do for the next 35 years.

All four years at Mercer County High School, I dated the same boy and I was head over heels to the point that I began ignoring all my old friends and did everything I could to please my first love. The one person I managed not to alienate was my best guy-friend, Damon – he managed to stand by me no matter what and for that I’ll always be grateful. My only regret from my high school years was not listening to my family and friends when they told me I should not have settled for the first guy who caught my eyes. Oh well, hindsight is 20-20.

Going to college as a single mother of two children under the age of six was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life, but it is also the thing I am most proud of. After my divorce I attend the Midway College nursing program. My children started school at the same time – Amber was in kindergarten and Marie was in Head Start. Those three years were so hard, not only because of raising my children, studying for classes and attending clinical rotations, but because I also had to hold down a job. This was 25 years ago and when I look back I don't know how I survived with my sanity intact, or how my children turned into wonderful young women. The majority of the credit goes to my boyfriend, Keith, now my loving husband of almost 20 years. He is the one who kept me going, helping me with homework and entertaining the girls while I studied for tests or wrote term papers.

These are just a few of the memories my muse brought up when my friend and I were talking about our school years. The problem is I am nowhere near the tip of the iceberg on this subject. Just looking at school pictures can bring back an avalanche of memories. Capturing these memories on paper may take me the rest of my life, but I think I’m up for the challenge.

Lights, Camera, Action

On February 17, 2009, all over-the-air analog television transmission signals on channels in the United States will come to an end – or at least that is the current plan approved by the Government, via the Congress and the FCC. Since we have had to deal with this message “crawling” across the bottom of our televisions for months, I thought this would be a good time to talk about the progression of television in my life.

The first program I have any memory of watching was “The Monkees” - the misadventures of a struggling rock band. This show first aired in September of 1966, so I was only four years old. I can still remember begging my mom to let me stay up past my bedtime so I could watch. At the time “The Monkees” premiered, they were a fictional rock band, but Davy, Micky, Peter and Michael soon became overnight sensations.

I don’t remember if mom actually let me stay up late on the night in question – 8:00 pm was past my bedtime – but I do remember religiously watching “The Monkees” on Saturday afternoon television. According to Wikipedia, “The Monkees” began airing on Saturdays in September 1969 – by this time I was seven years old.
I have no recollection whether I first watched “The Monkees” on a black and white television, or if we had switched to color. Colorized television was wide-spread by the time I was born in 1962, but not many families could afford them. It wasn’t until 1972 that color television sets outsold black and white sets in the United States.

“Dark Shadows” is the first show I remember watching in color, although it started out as a black and white show. I know I wasn’t old enough to have watched “Dark Shadows” from the beginning – it started airing in 1966 – but I do remember at some point coming home from school in just enough time to see most of the daily episodes. This series ended in 1971 – I would have been nine years old.

“Dark Shadows” was one of the lucky television shows to make it into syndication in 1975. I think it was these repeated viewings that endeared me to “Dark Shadows” – I liked it during its original run, but I grew to love it through syndication. Now, thanks to digital technology, I can enjoy “Dark Shadows” on DVD any time I want.

By the time I became obsessed with my next television show – “Land of the Lost” – I know we had a color television. “Land of the Lost” premiered in 1974 and it was a weekly Saturday morning children’s show by Sid and Marty Krofft. To say I loved this campy show is an understatement. This show had everything a 12 year old could want – dinosaurs, danger and adventure.

It was because of “Land of the Lost” I had my first introduction into audio recording. I would audio tape this show every Saturday morning on my little yellow cassette recorder and then listen to it with my headphones every night. Today there are audio books to listen to, but for me it was always “Land of the Lost.” I still have to be listening to an audio book or have the television on very low to go to sleep – my youngest daughter is the same way.

By the time I was 13, I thought I was in love – with “Starsky and Hutch.” Actually, it was Starsky I loved the most. I never missed an episode of this show, but I had to keep it turned down very low because it came on past my bedtime. My bedroom was in the basement, so as long as I keep the volume down, I could get away with watching. Of course, this is another show I would audiotape and listen to at night.

In addition to “Starsky and Hutch”, 1975 also brought “Crockett’s Victory Garden” on PBS. James Underwood Crockett was my gardening idol and it is because of him I became so fascinated with plants and gardening. Every week I would tune in to see what was growing, dreaming of the days I would have my own garden. The show’s name changed to “The Victory Garden” after Crockett died in 1979.

With the mainstream use of VCRs, television viewing would never be the same. I can still remember the first video stores opening in Harrodsburg. Movies lining every shelf – all you had to do was take them home and pop them in the VCR, if you were lucky enough to own one. The video stores also had VCRs to rent and I can remember lugging home one of those huge machines and becoming frustrated when I couldn’t get it hooked up right. I didn’t own my first VCR until I started nursing school – way back in 1987.

No longer content to wait once a year to see “The Wizard of Oz,” “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer,” or “Star Wars,” you can now watch these beloved classics whenever you want. My children don’t remember much about Saturday morning cartoons, because they have always been able to watch cartoons at the flick of a switch. Videocassette recorders/players are slowly being replaced by DVD recorders/players. By 2003, DVDs were out-numbering VHS tapes in total rentals and sales.
Three years ago, I was introduced to the DVR and my television viewing will never be the same. Not only can I record programs for future viewing, but I don’t have to waste tapes or discs for recording, unless it is something I want to keep. The DVR allows me to record all my favorite shows and then watch them whenever I feel like it. Not only does it record, but it allows me to pause live television and rewind to catch something I missed.

Black and white versus color, analog versus digital, VHS versus DVD – as long as technology continues advancing, there will always be changes in viewing entertainment from your home. What will the future hold for my grandchildren? We’re already seeing movies on computers and cell phones. I don’t know how my grandchildren will view television, but I know one thing. There will be lots of stories from grandma about the good old days.

Blizzard of 1978

We've all heard stories of blizzards and snowstorms from our parents and grandparents, tales of epic snows and the struggles each one brought.

"I used to walk through snow 3 feet deep just to get to school."

"I remember the snow was up to the window eaves."

"We were snowed in for over a month."

Of course, I have a few stories of my own, like the snowstorm of 2001 when we were supposed to only get a "dusting" and we ended up with 2 feet of snow. This was the winter my middle daughter, Marie, made an igloo by digging out a 3 foot snow drift. This was not a legendary storm, but it is one all three of my children remember. And although I've lived through a few snowstorms and ice storms in my 46 years, nothing compares to my grandparent's epic storms of legend.

Not unless you count the blizzard of 1978. I was 15 years old at the time of this storm, but I'll never forget that winter. Although I kept a journal at the time, many of my facts may not be accurate because at the time, I was more concerned with writing about my boyfriend than the weather conditions. However, I was able to record some of my feelings and the increasing boredom, and my memories have grown each time I tell the story to my girls.

In my telling of the story, we were out of school from Christmas break until Valentine's Day, but I don't think this is exactly right. According to newspaper articles, the big blizzard didn't hit until January 25th, so my slice of reality doesn't hold up to historical facts. We probably had a few “snow days” between Christmas and the big blizzard, but I'm also sure we went to school a few days.

I remember the weathermen had predicted the approaching storm several days before it hit. My parents, like everyone else, had stocked up on food and supplies anticipating a few days of cabin fever. As I researched the blizzard of 1978, I found a report from the National Weather Service, who categorized the storm “as a rare severe blizzard – the most severe grade of storm.” I do have my own records showing at the height of the storm, winds were gusting up to 100 miles per hour. There were also a couple of days when the wind chill was more than 30 degrees below zero. I don't know what the official snow totals were for Harrodsburg, but in our backyard we had 26 inches.

I remember the water lines froze and we didn't have water for days on end. This happened all over town, not just in the subdivision of Riverview where I lived. I remember Daddy hauling water from my grandparents farm in Bohon so we would have water to drink and cook with, as well as to flush the toilets. We also went to the laundromat in Danville to wash clothes because the ones in Harrodsburg didn't have water.

It's funny, I can remember the water lines being frozen, but I don't remember if the electricity was on or off. Our home had a gas furnace, so I guess that would have kept us warm. And I remember we had telephone service because I kept the phone lines hot talking to my boyfriend.

The first few days after the storm were fun because we could go sledding, make snow angels and have snowball fights. My younger brother and his friends made an igloo in the backyard and it was fun watching the building process. After the igloo was finished, they spent hours having the grandest snowball fights!

Although I was a tomboy growing up, I was a wimp about snow and cold weather. After the first few days, I was tired of the snow, so I spent most of my days indoors reading. At the time I owned the first 16 “Trixie Belden Mystery” books and I re-read the entire series twice during this extended vacation. But no matter how much I loved Trixie Belden, I was getting tired of reading the same books over and over again. With school closed I was not able to check books out of the library and the bookmobile was not able to travel to our subdivision. I did have "A Wrinkle in Time" checked out from school, but even Charles Wallace and the Tesseract were not enough to hold my boredom at bay.

And bored became an understatement! After the first week, I would wake early every weekday, only to be disappointed when the radio announced school was closed again. I was actually envious of the Harrodsburg students because they went back to school sooner than we did.

Needless to say, I was so excited to go back to school - to see my friends, to see my boyfriend, to get new books from the library, and ending the overpowering boredom of cabin fever. This will probably be the snowstorm story I tell my grandchildren, and I'm sure the tale will get exaggerated, just the way my grandsparents' and my parents' stories did. But one thing is for sure, I will always remember the beauty and power of the Blizzard of 1978.