Friday, September 4, 2015
     

Columns

Saturday, April 4, 2015

It was winter. A heavy mantle of ominous foreboding had settled over the village.

Everywhere you looked, it was dismal and gray. The graphite naked branches of the trees against the gunmetal of the sky created an air of somberness that seemed to seep into your pores. Even the whiteness of the snow had become dirty and ashen. It had become a season of 50 shades of gray.

Saturday, April 4, 2015

I will remember the winter of 2015 as extremely exhausting weatherwise, not because of large snowfalls, but just because of the many small nuisance storms.

As I get older, I find that if I can avoid driving in nasty weather, then I will, not because of my skill, but more due to the lack of skill of other drivers.

I am still amazed anyone living in this area of Pennsylvania really forgets or never learns how to drive in the snow. It seems to get worse each year instead of better.

Saturday, April 4, 2015
Thirty years ago I had a chance to spend a day one-on-one with Jack LaLanne, America's first fitness guru, and pick his brain about tips for healthy living.

It was exactly 30 years ago. But I'll never forget.

I was working in Wilkes-Barre and was given a chance to spend a day with fitness guru Jack LaLanne.

Younger folks might not recognize that name. But we boomers grew up watching him on television.

His real name was Francois Henri LaLanne and he was called the godfather of fitness.

He was the first fitness superhero, a pioneer in healthy lifestyles who opened the first fitness club in America.

Our day began early when I met him for a breakfast interview at a brookside table at the Woodlands Inn and Resort.

Saturday, April 4, 2015

Most of the time anxiety is foreign to me unless I'm driving in heavy traffic or in rain that reduces my vision.

I've already shared with readers my driving anxiety that was the aftermath of a car accident that happened when I was making a left turn onto a busy highway.

After almost two years, I could still hear that crash in my head whenever I had to make a left turn. It got to the point where I didn't want to get behind the wheel of a car unless I had to.

Saturday, April 4, 2015

I love to be able to get away every now and again, even if only for a couple of days.

I enjoy the change of scenery and waking up someplace different, whether at the home of a friend or family member or even on an air mattress in my tent.

I am, however, really leery about staying in hotels and motels.

Over the years I have had some rather unpleasant experiences that make me cringe to even think about.

As a kid, my mom and I always spent a week "down the shore."

Saturday, March 28, 2015

By PATTIE MIHALIK

newsgirlcomcast.net

Thomas Wolfe immortalized the phrase, "You can't go home again."

I don't know about you, but I've had the experience of trying to go back to my beloved hometown, hoping to see the happy place of my youth.

Instead, the town had changed so much, and not for the better. The people were still extraordinarily warm and friendly, making even a trip to Dunkin' Donuts a nice adventure. I think coal region people are some of the friendliest people anyone could hope to encounter.

Saturday, March 28, 2015

I heard a story recently on Coast to Coast AM about the famous World War I flying ace, Baron Manfred von Richthofen, the Red Baron.

The Red Baron has maintained a legendary reputation one hundred years later as one of the greatest pilots of World War I, having shot down a career total of 80 pilots during the conflict.

There is an extra aircraft that some accounts attribute to the Baron as well, but this one may not be of Earth.

The account is attributed to a fellow flier who accompanied the Red Baron on an early morning mission in the spring of 1917.

Saturday, March 28, 2015

At every stop light, other motorists beeped their horn and shouted at me, but I'd already coached myself not to look at them. I already knew there was an arrow embedded in my passenger side door. I just didn't feel like explaining it, not to strangers anyway.

How would I explain that I'd shot my own truck, while trying to get a turkey? That I'd known I was going to hit the truck when I let the arrow fly?

Plus they'd want to see the turkey, and I'd have to tell them that I'd missed it. And that it was only a jake.

Saturday, March 21, 2015

I was excited last night because a very dear friend of mine was giving a talk at a church organization.

The last time she gave a talk, I was in the hospital so I had to miss it. I told my husband I would camp on the church steps if I had to because it meant a lot to me to be there this time.

"I didn't realize you knew her that well. She doesn't live around here. How do you know her?" he asked.

When I told him I met Lisa at a church seminar, he wanted to know how long I knew her. "It can't be that long because you just started going to those retreats," he commented.

Saturday, March 21, 2015

It's a cool, bright March Monday, and I'm giving our library an early spring cleaning.

I pull a dusty old book off a shelf, intending to run a lemon-oil scented rag over its cover and page edges before putting it back onto a cleaned bookcase.

But I succumb to temptation and sink into a comfy chair, book in hand. It's one I read to my daughters when they were small.

It takes a few pages of reading to adjust my 2015 brain to 1905 language.

Language has always been fluid and dynamic. What meant one thing in 1950 means something entirely different now.