Summer Alphabet....

Continuing with my summer alphabet....

E = Ear of corn. One of the truly great things of summer is fresh corn on the cob. During the summer, we had corn-on-the-cob at most every meal; of course this was made a lot easier in my childhood when we planted and harvested our own corn. A favorite memory was when the entire family and some members from the extended family came together to harvest the corn, husk it, cook it, cut it, and freeze it. Of course, I enjoyed being able to drive the car through the field to haul back the picked corn. This corn harvest was a major endeavor that lasted long into the night with my father setting up outdoor lighting and a "Coleman" stove. I recall the fun and the energy of having "all hands on deck" through this process.

F = Front Porch. One of my most favorite places on the planet would have to have been the front porch at my Mom's place in summer. It was were we gathered for many a summer evening to talk, play word games,guess which color of car would drive by next, and to try and solve other such mental puzzles. We welcomed all visitors arriving by car, bike, or on feet to have a seat on the porch and join us in such revelry. The flowers, the painted rocks, the various planters, the wind chimes, and the company made this one of the most special places ever.

G = Garden. Our garden was so impressive that it was the envy of the neighborhood. My father made certain the rows were perfectly straight and he kept watch over it like a sentinel on duty at the border. We all shared in the work of weeding...as with most tasks it is made bearable when shared with others and the occasional weed fight with one's siblings. With the flowers or the pepper and tomato plants, my Mom spent many a summer evening in the garden. Both my parents enjoyed this hobby and it was evidenced in the quality of the work. Our garden kicked grass! Of course, we enjoyed the fruits of their labor throughout the year as both also excelled in the fine art of canning. It is only as I am older that I realize what a gift it was to be raised in a home where my parents were so connected to the land and how, literally and metaphorically, it grounded me and gave both ease and stability.

H = Hours. Do you notice in the summer how little time you spend watching the clock? Summer is a time to be and to enjoy; it's the season of cold drinks on porches and long, lazy afternoons at pools, on decks, in ballparks. How wonderful to have all those long days of daylight! Make the most of the season by simply being.

sj;

Alphabet of Summer: Part 1

Today's post is part one of a longer post. Were I to do all 26 letters in one blog it would go on infinitum; also I want to give you, dear reader, a chance to try your hand at this easy exercise.

Here is the first part of my "Alphabet of Summer" which are images, moments, experiences that I associate with this glorious season.

A = Allegheny River. If you are from these parts there is a very good chance you grew up near some river. Hailing from Freeport, our river of choice is the Allegheny. As a kid, the huge Beale Family Reunion was always held at St. George, the home of my Aunt Ruth and Uncle Chuck that was on the shores of the Allegheny in Kennerdale, PA. After feasting and frisbee, everyone would cross the railroad tracks and go to the river. There was a hierachy of where one was stationed in the river. Adults went water-skiing; teens and adults not wanting to be "board" dove off the deck and swam there. Older children swam in chest-high water on the sides of the deck. Young children and toddlers wallowed in the mud on the shore of the river.

B = Baseball. This wonderful game is synonymous with summer; men who play are known as the "boys of summer." From my days as a T-Bird playing Little League to going to my nephew's games, to many summer days and nights spent at Three Rivers and PNC Park watching our Buccos, summer is all the more wonderful because it's baseball season.

C = Campfire. Growing up, our family vacations were spent camping out along the shores of the Tionesta River and I'm talking serious camping out. There was no trailer, no water hook-up, no rec center...nope... the Snyder clan walked in over 1 mile into the woods carrying our gear for the week -- including food, tents, cooking utensils, sleeping bag, clothes, etc. There we made camp at the foot of, to the eyes of a child, a huge rock under which flowed a crystal clear and cold mountain stream. Maybe it was his Marine background, yet, my father made certain each family member had a specific job. Mine was to bury the cans of pop and items that needed to stay cool into the pale, soft sand at the bottom of the cool mountain stream. I also assisted in helping to build the fire pit which was the centerpiece of the campsite. Evenings we gathered around the campfire together as a family. I would like to tell you we sang songs, yet, my clan is not blessed with the gift of music. Instead, we shared in our gifts of story and laughter.

D = Del's Ice Cream Stand. A couple of miles from the home of my upbringing is a delightful frozen custard stand called Del's. Going there on a summer evening is a constant for members of our family. Their black raspberry ice cream is a local treasure.

.......now dear reader, what are the first letters of your Summer Alphabet?

sj;

Stewards

Remember when you were a kid and you received a new pair of sneakers? You were thrilled by their newness, how they shone and how you walked a little taller and somehow ran a little faster.

When I would put on a new pair of sneakers I would walk very carefully so as to keep them looking new and shiny as long as possible. I think a lot of kids did this because there was the stupid prank where some idiot kid would spot you sporting your shiny, new sneaks and would come over to you shout.....I cant remember the word....(if you can let me know as I must have blocked it from my memory) and then proceed with his old, dirty shoe to stomp on the top of your unsullied, glistening shoe marking it with a dirty shoe print. I hated that. My spiffy new sneakers would never be quite so new again and it really smarted when the idiot kid did his little prank early on in the school day.

Folks say that today's young adults are part of the "throw away" generation and we build things cheaply on the premise that within five years or so they will break and need replaced or a newer, always smaller, able to do more zips and zings version will appear and one must upgrade. It's not just the younger generation that is prey to this.

I was thinking about these things as I am troubled about the drought burning up and drying out a majority of the United States and especially the midwest. And, as a global citizen, realizing this type of drought is a too frequent occurrence for many of the world's population.

New York Times columnist, Thomas Friedman, calls the bizarre weather patterns --- the record-setting snows in Europe, our ridiculous heat wave, the rash of tornadoes and earthquakes --- as the "season of global wierding." I can not shake what we are doing to the planet, the only one we get, and doing so without much alarm or shared intent by all of us to reverse course.

Each morning is a new day, glistening, fresh, with soft morning light slowly coming to fullness --- watching this one feels the possibility of new beginnings. Sadly, it doesn't take long for greed, expedience, and control to stomp on it.

Again, there is no new, faster, brighter, more balanced version to upgrade to --- this earth is it. No, I'm not banking on the moon community and residing in lunar land.

We need to be intentional about caring for the planet. It is out of balance because we are out of balance to such a degree that we have made our world out-of-whack. How much more evidence is needed or how much more "global wierding" until we wise-up and take our stewardship seriously?

sj;

Blue

When I was a kid the Pitt/Penn State rivalry was in full force. Having two older brothers who attended and graduated from Penn State, I had a lot of Penn State gear. A favorite was a button that read, "If God Isn't a Penn State Fan, Then Why Is the Sky Blue and White?" Thirty-Forty years ago, that button was cute; today it's sad, so very sad.

Today, the news revealed that the artist who created the mural celebrating the greats of Penn State University painted over the golden halo that he had painted above the head of Joe Paterno upon his passing earlier this year.

When the curtain is pulled back and the Wizard is an old man at a machine, those whom we make to be more than and are then revealed as flawed and failed that is a numbing, sorrowful experience.

Like most powerful institutions, Penn State was insulated, full of hubris, power, and an unwavering commitment to protect the institution beyond anything or anyone. I'll allow you, dear reader, to insert other institutions that fit this equation.

I have not worn any of my "Happy Valley" or "We Are" Penn State t-shirts nor buttons in some time. In part, the valley is far from happy and I don't know what Penn State was or will be.

Instead of what I view as senseless debate on what to do with the Paterno statue and whether or not the football team should play this season or the next or the one after that, I would hope we learn from this sad, tragic tale. Be wary of systems that grow too big and obtain too much power and lack transparency. For any of the many institutions of which we are a part, remind yourself what is the mission statement of the institution? Why do they exist? To what is it really and truly committed? When that starts to blur or diminish amidst power and control, raise the question and find the wind to blow the whistle.

sj;