The Changes in My Lifetime, Part 3

 Next Mosaic Moments - August 26

 

Before the final entry in my "Changes" series, a gallery of random photos I've been accumulating over the last few weeks.

 

A spring flowing out of a tree

 

 Below, the tallest bridge in the world - completed 2004:

Millau Viaduct, Southern France

 ADDENDUM to Changes, Parts 1 & 2:

Probably because it did not affect me personally (I was far from working age when the war ended), I forgot a truly seminal change brought about by WWII: Women working outside the home. Women who took over men's jobs, including factory assembly lines, during the war, did not all return home with a sigh of relief. In fact, many discovered they liked getting paid for their hard work! This was a truly significant change in our culture. Sorry I missed it the first time around. By the time I was married in the early Sixties, I was providing most of the after-school transportation for our neighborhood because I was just about the only mother at home (where I worked part-time as editor for the educational publishing company my husband ran,  in addition being head of the Audio-Visual Department at Yale).

  

THE CHANGES IN MY LIFETIME, Part 3

The Sixties - with a peek at the Seventies

 In 1947, after skimping on fabric during the war years, Paris designers plunged hemlines to calf-length, where they stayed until the advent of that era of rebellion, the Sixties. Just as the Twenties had seen women hike skirt-lengths and cut hair that had been worn long for millennia, so now came the great rebellion against the innocence of the Fifties. Against the conservative attitudes, conservative dress, conservative speech. The need for peace that my generation had embraced was scorned by those only a decade younger, those with no memory of living through a War. As for me . . .

 1. On Tour with The Sound of Music. In the fall of 1960, I had my own small rebellion, giving up my music teaching position to move to NYC and audition for musicals. I was among the lucky ones, being chosen almost immediately for the National Company of The Sound of Music, with Florence Henderson starring in the role made famous by Mary Martin. Imagine, two months in NYC and I was employed by Rodgers & Hammerstein, and about to go on the road, traveling across the country by train, each of us with our own roomette, our hotel accommodations also paid by R&H! As was my entry fee into Musicians Local 802 (NYC) as, in addition to singing in the chorus, I directed off-stage music, played piano for on-the-road rehearsals, and trained replacements. In short, an experience I will never forget.

2. Marriage. In December 1962, I gave it all up for marriage, a choice every performer has to make at some time or other. I never regretted my decision, though I was very glad I had dared to try for the upper echelons of the music  profession and truly enjoyed being part of it.

3. Mini-skirts. Skirts kept getting shorter and shorter, until they finally bared more anatomy than had been seen anywhere but on a South Sea island. There was also a growing tendency to flout the family values that had been so important for so long, a tendency which somehow led to the free-spirited Flower Children of the Seventies finding their way to a different kind of rebellion. And sadly, becoming forever notorious because of their rabid opposition to the Vietnam War. 

4.  The Berlin Wall. The Berlin Wall was begun the same year I was married. The Russian Bear was on the rise and demonstrating its might. "The Cold War" became a term known to everyone.

5. Assassination. I was alone in our apartment in downtown New Haven when Walter Cronkite announced that John F. Kennedy had been shot. I will never forget the moment he took off his glasses, laid them down, and informed us that Kennedy had died, plunging the country into a period of mourning even more intense than the death of Franklin Delano Roosevelt during the waning days of WWII.

6.  Diapers.  As any mother of three children in three years knows, I lost around five years of my life in the mid-sixties, but if there's one thing that stands out in my mind, it's washing diapers - yes, genuine cloth diapers. "Pampers" did not make their appearance until my youngest was about two. A change instantly embraced by mothers (& fathers) everywhere. You cannot imagine the struggle necessary to carry a full diaper pail, dump the disgusting water in the toilet, then get the diapers into the washing machine. (At least we had washing machines and were not forced to wash them all by hand, as was true for eons in the past.)

7. The Vietnam War. Although we first sent troops to the long-running Vietnam War c. 1964, the horror of this far-distant war did not seem to truly affect the general public until the Seventies. Perhaps we had simply come to accept our role as Policeman to the World; and sadly, the myth of our infallibility.             

8.  The Moon Landing (1969). The Sixties ended on a truly spectacular note. Although we were likely spurred on by our rivalry with Russia, who had launched a satellite (Sputnik) into orbit before we did, it was worth every bit of effort put into it. The entire world sat transfixed as the capsule descended those last few feet before settling on the surface of the moon. Wow! Just talking about it still gives me the shivers. It is sad, sad, sad that we were spooked into giving it all up. More than fifty years have passed, and we still haven't made it back to the surface of the moon.

The Seventies 

I was going to stop with the Sixties, but the horror of the Vietnam War should never go unspoken. Or the disgrace of many of our citizens who condemned the men who fought instead of the government officials who sent them into the jungles to fight, die, or return home to be reviled by their own countrymen.

The Vietnam War - Rest in Peace

May God Forgive Us All  & Grant Rest to Our Troops, so many of whom suffered wounds that have lasted a lifetime.

On the Happier Side of the Seventies . . .

Travel - USSR. In the early 70s I traveled 10,000 miles in the USSR, from Moscow to Soviet Central Asia (Uzbekistan & Kazhakstan including the fabled Samarkand), and on to Irkurtsk on Lake Baikal in Siberia, then north by bush plane to Bratsk, almost on the Arctic Circle. And finally, back to St. Petersburg, which was still called Leningrad at that time. 

Travel - Peru.  Only a year or so later, I was off to Peru with a group of Yalies, touring all the best-known archeological sites of the time, including, of course, Machu Picchu. (Where we stayed in the inn directly on site. Just roll out of bed and climb the path to one of the greatest archeological sites in the world—discovered in 1911 by a Yalie, of course.) A year later I went back to Cuzco and Machu Picchu, this time with my husband as I didn't want him to miss these special wonders of Peru.

Finale.  The Sorrowful Seventies gave way to the gaudy hedonism of the Eighties—another diametrical switch, as so frequently happens in history. (And yes, this was the beginning of the Computer Age for the average citizen. I had my first word processor in 1981; PCs with 8 K appeared c. 1982.)

The Seventies do not deserve to be remembered except by historians, and since most of my readers have some recollection of the Eighties, this seems a good place to stop.

Thanks for sticking with these moments of nostalgia. I'll end as did the movie cartoons of my childhood, with Porky Pig saying,

"That's All, Folks!" 

* * *

Featured this week - a Thriller in Need of More Love:

Mention of my trips to Peru reminded me of a favorite book of mine that never caught the attention of most of my readers. Yes, it's more Thriller than Mystery, and about as far from Regency England as you can get, but, hey, Peru is such a great setting, not to mention Europe and good old Florida. So if anyone would like to take a vicarious adventure on the Inca Trail with a Floridian Miss Fixit and an intriguing international colleague . . .

 

Weddings and murder do not mix well. When things begin to go wrong for her family's Fantasy Wedding & Vacation business, trouble-shooter Laine Halliday gets more of a challenge than she bargained for, even with the aid of a mystery man she finds on the Inca Trail in Peru.

Author's Note: Only a few of my Golden Beach books have cross-over characters, but all share the idyllic setting of an actual Gulf Coast community, whose residents would prefer to keep its real name a secret.

~ * ~

 

For a link to Blair's website, click here. 

 

Thanks for stopping by,

Grace (Blair Bancroft)

 

The Changes in My Lifetime, Part 2

 

Proud parents at Cassidy's graduation from Flight School

Below:  Friday afternoon, at 4:00 pm, we got the word. Cassidy passed her final Checkflight, and has received her Private Pilot's License. (That's her instructor on the right.)

Yay, hurray!

 With time running down to a 2-day cruise planned for this weekend, Cassidy's flight instructor flew her to the commercial airport, taxiing her right up to her gate. When boarding her American Airlines flight, Cassidy mentioned that she had just gotten her pilot's license that morning, and lo & behold, they invited her to sit up front!

  

 We're all feeling the heat these days, but maybe not as much as in Las Vegas . . .

 

 THE CHANGES IN MY LIFETIME, Part 2

(including Comments on the State of the World & Hints of Events to Come)

Addendum to Part 1:

 Rationing. When mentioning my child's-eye view of WWII, I forgot Gas & Food Rationing. Yes, both. My mother had "coupons" for nearly everything. Meat, in particular, was in short supply. The US was not only feeding a hugely increased military, but we were providing emergency rations for our allies, particularly Russia, with convoys of supplies to Murmansk the most dangerous naval assignment, not just for the Navy but for the merchant sailors on the supply ships they were escorting. (One of them was among the 11 Americans who toured Russia with me a quarter century after WWII. All he had to do, even so long after the war, was mention "Murmansk," and he was an instant friend to every Russian we met!) 

A personal note on Gas Rationing. My father had a Master's Degree from Harvard and wanted to get a Doctorate from Yale, so we moved from Massachusetts to Connecticut in the summer of 1941, just months before Pearl Harbor. Since our new home was about a 90-minute drive from New Haven, forgetaboutit. By the time the war was over, my father decided to let his dream of a Yale degree go.

Post-War - Special Note                                     

High school days were about as idyllic as it gets, though I recall a moment in 8th grade that presaged what was to come. (Reminder:  throughout WWII the Russians were our allies, attacking the Germans from east as the rest of the Allies attacked from the west. Russia as an ally was the world I had grown up in.) And yet . . .

My father, who had just become Superintendent of Schools after a number of years as Principal of the High School, noticed my interest in a school library book called Timur and His Gang - about a boy in the USSR. I really don't recall my father saying much, but by the next day, the book was gone, never to be seen again. So even directly after a long war with Russia as our allies, my father wanted no hint of Communism in our schools. (I try to remember that "other side of the coin" when being horrified by many censorship attempts down through the years, to which I am adamantly opposed.)  [Clearly, this incident was significant to me or I would not have recalled the title of the book after more than 70 years!]

The World, post World War II (1945- ). Most of the world basked in euphoria. Our fighting men were home, anxious to embrace wives, children, and sweethearts, something resulting in a new term—"housing developments," spurred by the need of men who had fought and won a war, while keeping alive to the vision of a home with picket fence all their own. The Russians, who had suffered terribly during the war, were a menace only to those tasked with analyzing potential threats. It should be noted that Germany and Japan, though humiliated by defeat, were not stomped into the earth but swamped with aid to rebuild (US aid, of course.) The UN was born, everyone wanting to believe it would forever end the need for war.

Grace note:  although I did not read this story until I was studying history in college, it's a good indication of how primitive conditions were in Russia at that time. It seems that when the Allies stood back and allowed the Russians to take Berlin (as compensation for all their country had suffered)*, naturally, Russian troops ran rampant through the city, many of them with backgrounds so primitive they had no idea what a toilet was and used them to wash their potatoes!

*Russia lost just under 8,700,000 people, military & civilians, in WWII.

Some Local Notes from the Post-War period

As with previous decades, locking doors was still a rarity. Hats and gloves were mandatory for a female when leaving the house. Even after the family moved to the New Haven area in 1952, I recall my mother getting "all dolled up" to take the train into the city to consult with her editor. A trip that always included going "upstairs" for a brief chat with one of the Dell brothers (who clearly had an eye for a good-looking woman).

It should be noted that although rayon had been invented, our clothes were almost exclusively made of natural fibers:  wool, silk, cotton, and linen. Every girl learned to iron!

My first job (age 14?) was reading to an elderly shut-in for an hour each week. For which I was paid 10¢. And, oh yes, at our new house there was a large bamboo plant just outside my bedroom window. Every time my teenage temper soared, I seized the loppers and attacked those branches. Believe me, that bamboo was well trimmed!

Wariness of a recovering Russia was rumbling into life, but Nuclear War? After Hiroshima and Nagasaki, who would be that insane? It was, after all, the US of A that dropped those bombs, the first perhaps justified as a clearly defeated Japan had refused to negotiate and "the bomb" brought long years of war to a halt within a week. The second bomb, however, (Nagasaki) would be forever to our shame. (Our Intelligence analysis of the total devastation of Hiroshima did not come in until it was too late to call off the second strike.) Nonetheless, the US of A was now king of the world (for WWII couldn't have been won without us), and naturally we set about helping the entire world, enemies as well as friends, recover.

Wow! The war was over, my generation no more than witnesses to the carnage our parents experienced, as they moved almost directly from the Great Depression to World War. They suffered so we could enjoy the halcyon post-war days. (Despite all those Newsreels, we youngsters were so-o-o innocent!)

College. We met new people, were challenged by new ideas, new experiences, still with no credible threats on the horizon. Until . . . somewhere around 1954 a Senator named McCarthy reared his ugly, narrow-minded head. His rabid anti-Communism spread so far, so fast, that colleges that had been independent since their founding were obligated to see that both faculty and students took a "Loyalty Oath" to the country that had been founded on Freedom of Speech. I vividly recall all of us at the Boston University School of Music being herded into an auditorium, where the oath was administered. For college students who had just been doing what college students do, it was bewildering. McCarthy? Who was this weirdo? It would be years before sanity once again ruled, and Senator McCarthy faded into obscurity.

My college years also saw the arrival of TELEVISION. We did not have a set at home because my father refused to have the ugliness of an antenna on his roof. But I recall TV must have arrived sometime during my last two years of college, while I was living in the 7-story BU dorm in Back Bay. Because every Friday night at 9:00, I was among the contingent of upperclassmen descending on the lounge and taking over the TV so we could watch Dragnet. (Loved that show.)

And then, suddenly, our long, wonderful indulgence in Peace was over. Communists were kicking up a fuss in some previously unheard of place called Korea, and since our sterling performance in WWII had somehow made us Policeman to the World, we were plunged back into war, and this time it was my generation being drafted. (Somewhat mitigated by word filtering back from our musician friends at Camp Lejeune. They had all been accepted into the band, and thus were exempt from fighting a war on the other side of the world.)

My First Adult Job.

My first job was a music teacher in Junior High School in New Haven, CT. I am tempted to say the salary was $1500 year, but perhaps my memory is faulty. Let's call it the magnificent sum of $2500/yr. But living at home in East Haven, I still managed to save enough money ($600) to go on a concert tour with the "All-America Chorus" in what was now, in the summer of 1956,  being referred to as "Western Europe." I still recall taking the bus to work, sharing the old Tomlinson bridge with locomotives* shunting freight from one side of New Haven harbor to the other, while watching the construction of the new bridge (now also replaced) high above. [Hmm - I really think it was $1500/yr, bumping up to $2500/yr the next year when I moved to teaching in the wealthy suburb of North Haven.]

*That's right - RR tracks ran straight down the center of the bridge. You could be driving over it, look in the rear-view, and discover a giant diesel engine behind your car!

And if the Koren War wasn't enough to burst our euphoric bubble, then came . . . The Sixties.                        

"Changes" will continue next week.

~ * ~

This week's blatant promo:

In my fifty-plus novels one character has appeared in more books than any other. When I created Jack Harding for Tarleton's Wife, I never dreamed he would be so long-lasting. I even abandoned him for more than a decade after condemning him to not get the girl. Twice. But he insisted on resurrecting himself, demanding his right to Happily Ever After. And Rogue's Destiny was born. And never doubt that Jack is a rogue, as well as a vigilante, mercenary, genuine hero, and, of course, oh-so-charming. Jack appears in the following:  (Until I started counting, even I didn't realize the list was so long.)

Tarleton's Wife

O'Rourke's Heiress

Rogue's Destiny

The Lady Takes a Risk

The Abominable Major

The Making of Matthew Wolfe

Matthew Wolfe - the Adventures Begin

Matthew Wolfe - Revelations

 

 

 

In previous books in the Regency Warrior series, Jack Harding has suffered a broken heart, a close brush with the hangman, and continued his uncertain history with females by letting yet another woman slip through his fingers—this time to his employer, Terence O'Rourke. It would appear Jack is never to know the joy of true love—until he meets a feisty young French Canadian heiress in need of a knight in shining armor. A role at which Jack excels.

WARNING: Although the story in Rogue's Destiny is stand-alone, it contains major spoilers for the previous books in the Regency Warrior series: The Sometime Bride, Tarleton's Wife, and O'Rourke's Heiress.

 

~ * ~

 

For a link to Blair's website, click here. 

 

Thanks for stopping by,

Grace (Blair Bancroft) 

 

The Changes I've Seen in my Lifetime

 A Big Family Week:

Birthday photo with my children, Dave & Susie

Birthday photo at the "almost open" Capital Bar in Sanford

Cassidy's birthday is two days before mine. We celebrated in absentia with an old photo of our 17-year-old almost licensed pilot.

The Citrus Singers performed several times over the course of the International Girl Scout Convention in Orlando last week. (To great acclaim.) Below, a nostalgic moment, the final time Riley packed up equipment after a performance. She has not only aged out of Scouts but will be going off to Stetson University this fall.

 

 CHANGES IN MY LIFETIME

Having just passed a birthday that has me inching up on Methusaleh, I've spent a bit of time over the past few weeks thinking about the world that was. And decided it might be fun to share a few things with those who never knew that world. I've scribbled a whole bunch of notes but have undoubtedly forgotten a thousand changes I should have included, but here are the ones that seem most significant to me.

1.  Freedom. I was given an enormous amount of freedom to wander as a child, to play where I would, enjoy solitude if I pleased. My own children enjoyed the same freedom. And I hope that's still true in some small towns, but all too many of today's children never venture out of the house without an adult. They go to the park, have play-dates, etc., every moment under adult supervision. Yes, I know the world has changed, but not learning to be on one's own is a serious detriment to growing into an independent grown-up.

Grace note:  This is not my imagination. As previously mentioned on this blog, when I toured the FBI Academy a decade ago, we were told that it was getting harder and harder to find recruits with "street smarts." Children were no longer allowed to be "out there," discovering the world for themselves.

2.  Travel.  Before the gas rationing of WWII, my family drove from New England to Nebraska every summer to visit my grandparents. I stood the entire 1500 miles each way, poised on the floor of the back seat directly between my parents, so I could see where we were going. No car seats, no seat belts. Just the fun of seeing what was out there.

3. Travel.  It was a three or four day trip from Massachusetts to Nebraska at that time. We stayed overnight at "cabin camps." As the name implies they were little more than one-room shacks with a bed and an army cot (for me). If nature called, there was an outhouse out back.) As I recall, motels did not arrive until after WWII.)

4.  World War II. The war affected everyone's life. Nearly every house had a "star banner" hanging in the window. Blue for "currently serving," Silver for "missing," Gold for "killed in Action." Huge containers of chicken wire sat on every New England green; one for anything made of aluminum, particularly pots and pans; one for old tires. My mother did a weekly stint at the local emergency HQ; my father (who aged out of the draft by two months) stayed up all night once a week, doing his bit as an airplane-spotter. I recall learning all the plane silhouettes when he did. And I still remember sitting on the school's well-worn wooden stairs during Air Raid Drills. And once a week we brought in money to buy Savings Bonds to help support the war effort.  [Lots more, but time to stop.]

5.  Diesel Trains.  We moved from Massachusetts to Connecticut only months before the outbreak of WWII. Schools were strictly disciplined in those days, although we never considered it a hardship. That's just the way things were. But one day - I believe I was in sixth grade - we heard a loud noise we had never heard before. The entire class jumped up and ran to our second-floor windows. (I suspect the teacher did the same.) The noise came again - no one could figure it out. Order was restored and only later did we learn that what we'd heard was the whistle of the first diesel train to rumble through out small Connecticut town. [Time - c. spring 1944, as I recall.]

6.  Radio, Newspapers & Newsreels.  During the war and for many years after, these were our only source of information. Radio and Newspaper you can understand, but what was a Newsreel? Newsreels preceded the showing of every movie at the local theater. During WWII this meant photographers risking their lives to show us what was happening. (Something we take for granted these days.) And, believe me, I have not forgotten the impact of full movie-screen news, particularly the scenes of the liberation of the holocaust camps.

7.  Washing.  From Grade 3 through Grade 7 I remember helping my mother hang clothes from our second-story apartment in Connecticut. There was a pulley that ran from our back porch to a big tree twenty to thirty feet away. We'd peg each piece to the line, give it a pull, and peg the next. I'm not sure when, during that time, I was considered old enough to run the clothes through the "wringer" on our washer, but I still remember the thrill and tension of making sure my fingers didn't go through as well! When we moved to our very own house (I was in 8th grade), we had a standard clothesline in the backyard. [I'm drawing a blank on when the ancestors of our present-day washers & dryers first made their appearance.]

8.  Cars.  There was no such things as Automatic Shift, though, thank goodness, it arrived not long before I got my driver's license at age 19. And Turn Signals? No way. I still remember having to stick my arm straight out for a Left turn, bent at the elbow for a right turn. 

9.  Telephone.  I'm not sure what year it was, but we were living in our new house, so I was likely in 9th or 10th grade when, suddenly, we no longer picked up a phone and heard a live operator ask, "Number please?" We had to look up someone's number in something called a Phone Book and dial it ourselves, one number at a time on a wheel attached to the front of the phone? What was the world coming to? 

10.  Milk Delivery. I almost forgot - this was the era when milk was delivered directly to every house. Daily. When my husband and I moved into our waterfront home home in Branford, CT, in 1963, there was an entryway with a large aluminum-lined wooden chest (with lift-up lid) designed especially for milk delivery. 

Addendum to #10:  Oddly enough, grocery delivery is NOT new. My mother, the author, Wilma Pitchford Hays, had her groceries delivered, beginning way back in the late 1940s right up to the time we moved to the New Haven area in the summer of 1952.

PART II - Post 1950  will, hopefully, appear next week.

 

This week's shameless promo:

Although I wrote The Sometime Bride before Tarleton's Wife, TW was published first, in December 1999. A year or so earlier, my mother (the author) had handed me a newspaper article about electronic publishing, and we had wondered about this new method of publishing. So I suppose I was more willing to listen when I received a call out of the blue from a brand new e-publisher, Starlight Writer Publications, asking to include Tarleton's Wife in their opening line. (Evidently, the owner had been one of the judges in an RWA writing contest I'd entered.) A publisher was REQUESTING to publish my manuscript??? I wasn't about to say no!

And thus began the first of four e-incarnations and two paperback versions of Tarleton's Wife. Finally, after many years, I got my rights back, and it is now available on Amazon, Smashwords, B&N, and other e-vendors. One of the wonders of e-pub:  Nearly 25 years after its debut, Tarleton's Wife still makes the sales chart each and every month!

 On the night before the final battle in one of the most harrowing retreats in British Army history, a colonel wagers his only child in a game of cards. She is rescued by Major Nicholas Tarleton, who marries Julia Litchfield the next day, but only as he is dying. Julia, a hardy soul who has followed the drum all her life, takes over her husband's estate, becoming a heroine to Nicholas's tenant farmers, and is developing an interest in a new man when totally unexpected events plunge her into a conflict of love and honor that might have challenged Solomon himself.

Reviews Excerpts:

"A real historical novel, TARLETON'S WIFE places the author in the ranks with Victoria Holt and a handful of other writers of romantic fiction that I have read, reread, and loved." Patricia White, Word Museum

"TARLETON'S WIFE . . . is filled with action and emotion, and with well drawn, realistic characters headed by a strong, admirable and totally likable heroine. The author has extraordinary ability to bring her characters to life and to create a real world around them." Lily Martin, Romance Communication

"Ms Bancroft has a clear voice and the potential to be another Mary Jo Putney or Mary Balogh." Kathe Robin, Romantic Times

"This is a very well written piece, painted with rich history and wonderfully drawn characters. We will be seeing much more from this brilliant author." April Redmon, Under the Covers

~ * ~

 

For a link to Blair's website, click here. 

 

Thanks for stopping by,

Grace (Blair Bancroft) 

 

Gallery, Recipes & Blatant Promo

[Next Blog - July 29]

 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!

A big birthday coming up on the 19th. I've spent a remarkable number of years on this planet and know, for all the hassles and disappointments, my life has been blessed with great joys, as well as long stretches of peace and contentment. Love my family, love to write. Am blessed with a second family in my church choir. And have great confidence in the our next generation, just blossoming into the glory days of college. What more could I ask?

Please note:  None of my three grandgirls were responsible for the following.

 

Is that writing Japanese?

Japanese Cherry Tree

 

And for the authors among us . . .

~ * ~

SUMMER RECIPES

When summer comes around, recipe writers seem to talk barbecue non-stop. Well, I have to tell you, not all of us have barbecues - or a man of the house, as traditionally expected for a proper barbecue. (The male's chance to shine!) So today, I'm posting a few recipes that don't need a grill, charcoal, gas, or a male in a great big apron. Although I've concentrated on a variety of tempting asparagus dishes, the first is the absolute easiest and fastest way to cook that all-American dish, corn-on-the-cob.

Microwave Corn-on-the-Cob

 I have no idea where this recipe came from, but I've been cooking corn this way for 20 years or more. It's not good for crowds, but is absolutely amazing for 1-4 people. Instead of struggling to shuck the corn, clear the silk, boil water, cook 3-5 minutes "by guess & by gosh," then fish the cobs out, try this:

1. Do NOT shuck corn. Do not trim.

2. Lay corn, husk and all, in the microwave. Cook 2 minutes on one side; turn, 1 minute on the other side. 

3. Remove. Trim ends (which will cut with ease). Pull off husks & silk (now also much easier - they just peel away.

4. Insert "corn holders" at each end, if desired. Butter & season to taste. Eat. 

Grace note:  Keep in mind that in microwave cooking each item must be timed separately; i.e., 2 cobs = 4 minutes on one side, two on the other.

3 cobs = 6 minutes on one side, three on the other, etc.

 

ASPARAGUS RECIPES

 

Below, four asparagus recipes to add a bit of pizzazz to any summer meal.

ASPARAGUS WITH MANDARIN-PEPPER SAUCE

1 can (11 oz.) Mandarin oranges, drained & chopped*

½ cup chopped, canned roasted red bell pepper

2 tablespoons chopped green onion

1 tablespoon soy sauce (or lite soy sauce)

1 tablespoon sesame oil

1 teaspoon freshly grated ginger (or ¼ tspn. dry ginger)

1½ pounds fresh asparagus, trimmed**

¼ cup toasted, slivered almonds***

Gently combine Mandarin oranges, bell pepper, green onion, soy sauce, sesame oil & ginger in a small bowl. Cook asparagus in a covered skillet or large pot, 4-5 minutes. Drain. Arrange asparagus on a serving platter; spoon sauce on top; sprinkle with almonds.

*or c. 3 Mandarin orange "cups."

**I prefer to cut asparagus spears into smaller bites.

***To intensify flavor, toast almonds in a dry skillet over medium heat for 2-5 minutes. 

 

BAKED ASPARAGUS WITH BALSAMIC BUTTER SAUCE

1 lb. fresh asparagus, trimmed

cooking spray

salt & pepper, to taste

2 tablespoons butter

1 tablespoon soy sauce

1 teaspoon balsamic vinegar

 Preheat oven to 400°.

Arrange asparagus on a baking sheet. Coat with cooking spray; season with salt & pepper.

Bake 12 minutes, until tender.

Melt butter in a saucepan over medium heat. Removed from heat; stir in soy sauce & balsamic vinegar. Pour over asparagus.

 

ASPARAGUS WITH MUSTARD SAUCE 

1 lb. fresh asparagus, trimmed

1tablespoon water

1/3 cup mayonnaise

1 tablespoon chopped fresh parsley

1 teaspoon Dijon mustard

1 teaspoon fresh lemon juice 

 

Place asparagus in microwaveable casserole. Microwave on High 3-5 minutes, or until asparagus is crisp-tender.

Meanwhile, mix remaining ingredients.

Drain asparagus. Top with mayo mix.

 

ASPARAGUS WITH DIJON VINAIGRETTE

1 lb. thin asparagus, trimmed

1 teaspoon Dijon mustard

1½ tablespoon red wine vinegar

1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil

2 teaspoons fresh chopped parsley

kosher salt & pepper, to taste

 

In medium bowl, whisk mustard, vinegar & 1 tablespoon oil. Add parsley and season with salt & pepper.

Boil asparagus 2-3 minutes until tender. Drain; run under cold water to stop cooking.

Transfer to serving dish. Drizzle with vinaigrette.

Grace note:  Due to my allergies, I substitute good old cider vinegar for both white and red wine vinegars. Not ideal, but it works.

~ * ~

 For this week's blatant promo, the very first "sellable" book I ever wrote. 

Grace note:  I did write a book set in 1970s Russia (after a 10,000-mile trip through the Soviet Union), but back in the days of the Cold War, not even an agent could get New York to bite on a book not wholly critical of USSR. A book, oddly enough, in which I predicted someone would rise out of the KGB to take over the government. Several times in recent years, I've considered going "e" with it, but it's hardcopy only (written 10 years before the Computer Age), and every time I thought of revising, retyping, and publishing, our relations with Russia would blow up again, and the timing never seemed right.

So I put away my metaphorical pen until my children were grown, my husband had an incapacitating stroke, and as his caregiver, I was home all day with more than a bit of time on my hands. Which is why, twenty years after my first book and after reading a gazillion novels by classic Regency authors (at least three times each)—and as much as I loved them, wondering why they ignored the war raging on the Continent during that era—I plunged into writing a 140,000-word historical romance that turned out to be a saga of the seven years of the Peninsular War (Napoleon's invasion of the Iberian Peninsula). And somehow came up with the highly apt title of The Sometime Bride. [Ballantine offered to publish it if I'd change the heroine's age. Idiot that I was, I refused.]

My second novel, Tarleton's Wife, ended up being published first, with The Sometime Bride a close second. Both have seen several incarnations over the years and are available at Amazon, Smashwords, Barnes & Noble, and a long list of other e-book vendors.

 

 A very young bride finds herself married to an enigmatic British spy "for her safety." And is plunged into a seven-year, highly personal view of the Peninsular War—ending, after years of blind devotion, in discovering a betrayal of her trust so immense she can only wonder: Is she the sometime bride of a man who never existed? A discarded mistress? Or a beloved wife whose only rival is her husband's expediency in a time of war?

Author's Note: In addition to being a saga of young lovers caught up in a war, The Sometime Bride is the history of the Peninsular War, Britain's fight against Napoleon in Portugal and Spain. The story moves from France's invasion of Portugal and British troops being driven into the sea at La Coruña to the return of British troops under General Sir Arthur Wellesley, the fortified lines at Torres Vedras, and the gradual push of French troops across Spain and back to France. Plus the chaotic times in Paris after Napoleon's surrender and the Emperor's triumph as he gathers up his old troops, only to be stopped in one of the most famous and bloody battles in history—Waterloo.

~ * ~

 

For a link to Blair's website, click here. 

 

Thanks for stopping by,

Grace (Blair Bancroft) 

GALLERY ( incl. our budding pilot)

 

MAJOR FAMILY EVENT ON 6/29/23

On Wednesday, June 28, we celebrated my daughter Susie's birthday, and on Thursday, June 29, her youngest daughter, Cassidy soloed for the first time. Family went wild!

Short recap:  Cassidy, who won't be 16 until July 17, is one of 130 Air Force Junior ROTC students chosen for a government-sponsored 8-week flight training program. Which she is doing in a group of 16 assigned to Elizabeth City, No. Carolina.

Mike, Cassidy's father, has an app that allows him to track her flights, which he has been doing constantly since she started her training. A truly astonishing app, as you will see in the pic below. Cassidy describes the program as "stressful" - a barrage of instruction and flying from morning to night. But, she also reports, they are well fed! They are housed in a college dormitory. 

Cassidy embarking on her first solo flight

Below, the view on the Tracker App. Susie swears she and Mike didn't breathe for the entire 18 minutes of the flight as they watched Cassidy do three take-offs and landings.

Cassidy getting her way-too-big flight suit

On the left, her instructor

Riley, Hailey & the Birthday  Girl

On an entirely different note - from Facebook . . .
 

 

Mentioning Hell might have made me think of this one (sent to me by my son in CT):

 

 From Facebook - "Albuquerque Sky" by Meteorologist Grant Tosterud:

 

And one of the strangest sights I've seen on Facebook:

Mountain village in Tibet

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The Vicar's Daughter

 If you're inclined to believe that all ministers, pastors, and priests are natural-born saints, you might not want to read this week's featured Regency Gothic by Blair Bancroft. But if you believe - if only a smidgeon - that a female has the right to follow in her vicar father's footsteps . . .

 

 

Independent and capable Prudence Wedderburn, daughter of a vicar, is a woman before her time. She not only manages the parish duties usually performed by a vicar's wife, she has learned the art of healing, and during her father's final illness, she also assumes some of his religious duties—all actions welcomed by her village until her father's death abruptly ends her life as First Lady of Kenner's Cove, Kent.

Well aware she must curb her independence—even learn to practice subservience, a quality entirely unknown to her—Prudence accepts a position as governess to a five-year-old girl in Cornwall. Where, alas, rumors of her activities in Kent plunge her into difficulties with the church, she clashes with her pupil's father (an earl), finds herself hip-deep in smugglers and Cornish legends, is befriended by a 500-year-old cat, and discovers that someone—several someones?—want to kill her. Finding a happy ending in a deluge of disasters will be the vicar's daughter's greatest challenge.

~ * ~

 

For a link to Blair's website, click here. 

 

Thanks for stopping by,

Grace (Blair Bancroft)