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Columns

Saturday, October 18, 2014

By MARY TOBIA

tneditor@tnonline.com

A recipe passed down through the generations fills a house with love.

I just finished organizing my recipe box, which is filled with my favorite handwritten recipes.

Throughout the years I have accumulated more cookbooks than I need.

But if I want a special recipe sure to please my heart, my soul and tummy, it is off to my recipe box I go.

Saturday, October 18, 2014

Last week I was invited to appear on the local radio show "Coal Region Connections" with my longtime friend Mark Marek to discuss local folklore and legends, but a few callers had some questions about dream experiences they had.

The subject interests me, and I would like to share in a bit more detail how I feel about the experience of dreaming, and in the process we may answer some questions you might have about dreaming. The opinions I am providing are my own based on my own experiences and not necessarily reflective of anyone else.

Saturday, October 18, 2014

I just returned from an Old Broads Convention.

In reality, it was the 16th annual New England Traditions Convention for decorative painters, held in Marlborough, Massachusetts.

I said it was an Old Broads Convention because I swear, out of the almost 300 attendees, most were women, and one transvestite, with 90 percent of them over the age of 60. Half of them were probably over 70. Some walked with canes, others with walkers and there were even a couple with their Jazzy.

Saturday, October 18, 2014

After being quite sick for the past week, I found that I could not put off making a trip to the store for household necessities any longer.

It took every ounce of strength I had just to get myself cleaned up and presentable enough to be seen in public when all I wanted to do was crawl back into bed where I had spent the past four days.

Shopping took longer than usual and walking up and down the aisles proved to be quite exhausting.

Saturday, October 18, 2014

By PATTIE MIHALIK

newsgirl@comcast.net

Every now and then I pick up a book that tries to define the stages of life in a new way.

Richard Rohr talks about dividing adulthood into two periods accumulating (which lasts for years), then a search for more meaning as we get older.

In my mind, here's another way of dividing adulthood. There are the "work years" which can usually range anywhere from three or four decades to 50 years.

Then there are the precious years I call the "do what you want" stage of life.

Saturday, October 18, 2014

Nicknames and labels can be dangerous things.

In 2008, a York man was killed by accident because he had a similar nickname as the attackers' intended target.

The 29-year-old was known as "Big O," and apparently some thugs were looking for a man with the same moniker. They were caught and sentenced for murder, but justice can never be served.

Nicknames are popular, especially in our area. I did an informal, unscientific survey and asked people if they had a nickname. Virtually every person said yes. Some said they also were called names.

Saturday, October 11, 2014

By AMY MILLER

amiller@tnonline.com

Fall is one of my favorite times of year.

I love the colors of the trees as their leaves change to brilliant reds, oranges and yellows.

I love the smells that float through the air. I can't describe them though, but there is just something about it that screams fall.

And I love the pumpkins, cornstalks, hay bales and mums that adorn many people's homes over the next two months.

Something about this time of year just makes me happy.

Saturday, October 11, 2014

Our brain has over 100 billion brain cells, called neurons. Each one of those has between 10-50 glia cells. I'm no Einstein, but, that's a lot of brain cells.

After about the age of 35, we begin to lose about 7,000 brain cells. A day.

I tell you all this because I'm convinced I've only got about 7,000 of those little suckers left. Period. And if there's any new ones showing up, I think they're playing Hide and seek with me.

Saturday, October 11, 2014

By PATTIE MIHALIK

newsgirl@comcast.net

I'm sitting here in ecstasy.

I'm eating a ripe peach. It's so deliciously ripe that juice dribbles down my chin. Every bite confirms my taste buds are being treated to an extraordinary experience.

You may be sitting there thinking, come on! It's just a peach.

No, it's not "just a peach." It's a perfectly ripe peach. There's a perfect stage somewhere between ripe and overly ripe when taste is at its zenith.

Believe it or not, it's been years since I had this experience.

Saturday, October 11, 2014

As many of you probably know, I have lived in Summit Hill most of my life having been born and reared here in this hilltop community.

I can remember my very first interest in ghosts was with my friend Rich who told me about a ghost in the basement of the church near his house. We were about 9 or 10 years old at the time and I thought it would be cool to actually see one. I heard about them at the time but I never saw one. We went over to the church one afternoon in the fall if I remember correctly. Rich showed me which window was best to see "the ghost."