Childhood

Every Leaf Is A Flower: 6 Links To Share As Autumn Begins In The Northern Hemisphere

/ Ally Bean / 207 Comments

I am nuts. I woke the other morning and the first thought that drifted into my mind was “crisp and clean, and no caffeine.” That’s a 1980s slogan for 7-Up. I haven’t had a 7-Up in years, nor have I seen any ads for it lately. So why was I thinking about it when I woke up? This is worrying me more than it should.

I am amused. I watched the Netflix TV series Nobody Wants This starring Kristen Bell and Aidan Adam Brody. It’s a predictable romantic comedy about an agnostic podcaster [Bell] and single rabbi [Brody] who fall in love despite their differences: families meddle, miscommunication happens, hilarity ensues. It is Bridget Loves Bernie updated for 2025. Funny, yes— but also filled with stereotypes.

Little me not smiling for the camera.

I am vindicated. I’ve never liked having my picture taken. As a child I considered a camera an intrusion into my little world, a way to slow my roll. As an adult in our selfie-obsessed world, I am an outlier who doesn’t take selfies. So imagine my joy when I read about a photographer who doesn’t ask girls to smile in their pictures.  Not everyone wants to smile for the camera and don’t I know it.

I am empowered.  As a kindhearted person who struggles with how to deal with some [shall we say?] willfully disagreeable people in daily life, I found this short YouTube video, Forgive Assholes | Have a Little Faith, inspiring.

The premise, as explained by Pastor Nadia Bolz-Weber, is based on the idea: “What you did is so not okay that I refuse to be connected to it anymore.” After acknowledging this, you get out your metaphorical bolt cutters and intentionally break the chain that tethers you to that person/situation. It’s wisdom with a skoosh of badass attitude.

One orange fish drawn by adult me.

I am tickled. Have you tried this online dealio where you draw a fish then make it swim? Doing so is fun and silly and the perfect diversion when daily news gets to be too much. Some people draw beautiful fish. I am not one of those people.

I am chuffed. In honor of the arrival of autumn I made a pie using this Easy Sweet Potato Pie recipe. It was outstanding, if’n I do say so myself. My change to the recipe: I didn’t use the rum substituting 1 Tablespoon freshly squeezed orange juice + 1/2 teaspoon orange extract. Because Cool Whip is the work of the devil [my hill to die on], I topped the pie with homemade whipped cream.

QUESTIONS OF THE DAY

If you drink soft drinks, which carbonated beverage is your favorite? Do you remember its advertising slogan from the 1980s?

As a child did you like posing for a picture? As an adult do you like having your photo taken, either by yourself or others?

Can you draw a better fish than the one I drew?

Where do you stand on the controversial issue of Whipped Cream versus Cool Whip? [There is a right answer.] What culinary issue is the hill you’re willing to die on?

+ • + • +

Welcome: A Few Meandering Thoughts About Being Gladly Received

/ Ally Bean / 205 Comments

I take my blog prompts where I find them…

Years ago I remember reading an article about how to connect with people, online and in real life. The gist of the article was about ways to make sure you’ll be gladly received, appreciated even by the people you meet.

In retrospect I realize that the article touched on ideas you might find in Norman Vincent Peale’s ‘The Power of Positive Thinking’ but that’s not what the article was about. It was a modern take.

According to the article the formula for being included was simple. Initially you establish yourself as memorable, then you apply yourself to being likable. A leads to B, familiarity with your uniqueness leads to people feeling comfortable around you. Then as long as you are consistent, you will be welcomed.

I’ve never definitively decided what I think about this advice, however it’s stuck with me— maybe to be shared and discussed in this very moment.

🔹 Playing the part of devil’s advocate here, first off it seems to me that being memorable can be a slippery slope. It’s great if you’re remembered for doing something ostensibly positive, but how many times do you remember someone because of the less positive thing that they did?

[QUICK: elementary school – who threw up in class? high school – who was stoned more often than not? college – who got caught cheating on an exam?]*

🔹 Then of course there’s also the issue of the definition of likable. Without using a dictionary, mine would be something along the lines of:

  • friendly, warm, non-judgmental
  • assertive but not aggressive
  • truthfulness wrapped in kindness

How would you define a likable person? Are you one? Is this something you aim to be?

🔹 And as for consistent, something I think of as being conscientious, but of course could also mean consistently not being conscientious, I’d suggest that most people don’t pay close enough attention to what other people do to really notice if someone is consistent.

Thus I will conclude by saying that the foregoing, my gentle readers and kind lurkers, is nothing more than my addled brain’s meanderings, unfiltered and with no hidden agenda, after seeing the word WELCOME on a wooden container holding a few tulip bulbs.

This is what I thought about.

Any remarks, regrets, reconsiderations you’d like to add?

* In fourth grade – Janie who was shy and scared to stand up in front of the class, threw up in front of the class while giving her report on how to play her flute. Vomit went everywhere, including inside her flute. She didn’t return to class for a few days.

In high school – Doug who was a kid who lived down the street from me on the swankier end of the street, had a ready supply of weed. He enhanced his social standing by putting vodka dyed dark green into an empty Chloraseptic sore throat spray bottle that he carried around, happy to spray some into your mouth.

In college – Susan who was smart but lived in fear of not being perfect, was caught sneaking around in the library cheating on a take home honor system exam. She cried her way into being allowed to take it a second time. She got an A+ of course.

Laugh When You Can: A Tale Of Brotherly *Love* + A Poem About Methuselah’s Diet

/ Ally Bean / 207 Comments

Is this not true?

A Tale Of Brotherly *Love*

The other afternoon the temps were in the lower 80s so I went out onto our screened-in porch to enjoy fresh air and read a book.

I heard kids playing in the ravine behind the house. They were down in the creek bed that’s practically dry this time of year. Kids go exploring down there occasionally and in this case it was two boys, about 6 y.o. and 10 y.o.

I didn’t think a thing about it until I was jolted out of my reading by a loud  Dad voice coming from the other side of the ravine.

Dad said: Alexander, where is your brother?

{Small voice, indistinguishable words}

Dad again: Alexander, I asked you, where is your brother? Where is William!!

{Slightly louder small voice, somewhat indistinguishable, but saying words that included “I don’t know”}

Dad continued: Alexander, I don’t care. Go back down into the ravine and find William. NOW!

At this point I heard a small whimper coming from the bottom of the ravine. A whimper so pathetic that I put down my book, stood up and looked down into the ravine where I saw a small boy sitting on a log by himself, crying, but not hurt or in any danger.

He was pretty much playing up the drama of being left behind.

I shouted over to the Dad telling him that I could see the abandoned brother, that he was fine, and then explained where I was so Alexander, the reluctant keeper of his brother, could find William.

At which point the Dad shouted thanks over my way while giving Alexander one last clearly stated command, a guideline for how to treat your brother.

And maybe all of humanity.

Dad said: ALEXANDER WE DON’T LEAVE OUR BROTHER IN A RAVINE, ANY RAVINE, EVER. Now go find him.

Which Alexander did with some alacrity while I watched, amused, from above.

So sayeth Dad, so let it be.

A Poem About Methuselah’s Diet

I continue to sort through old family photos and papers. In one of the boxes I found the following pithy poem. My father had saved it by cutting it out a newspaper.

According to the introduction to the poem it was on the dinner cards of the 1890 Class, College of Physicians and Surgeons in New York. Researching online I discovered there’s no known author for the poem.

DIET

Methuselah ate what he found on his plate,

And never, as people do now

Did he note the amount of the caloric count;

He ate it because it was chow.

•🔸•

He wasn’t disturbed, as at dinner he sat,

Destroying a roast or a pie,

To think it was lacking in granular fat,

Or a couple of vitamins shy.

• 🔸•

He cheerfully chewed every species of food,

Untroubled by worries or fears,

Lest his health might be hurt by some fancy dessert––

And he lived over Nine Hundred Years!

Here is the poem as seen in print.

Questions of the Day

What have you laughed out loud about lately?

What’s the last thing you overheard that made you stop what you were doing and eavesdrop?

What do you think of Methuselah’s pragmatic diet plan?

• • ❤️ • •

Glimpses Into A 1980s Presbyterian Community Cookbook & A Peek At Angelic Little Me

/ Ally Bean / 232 Comments
And now for something completely different…

My mother collected cookbooks. The following is a church community cookbook, a fundraiser, from the 1980s. She didn’t contribute anything to it, but dutifully bought one. I’ve shared a few glimpses into it along with a group photo of little Presbyterian angels that included me.

~ • ~

• On the front of the cheerful yellow custom cookbook is a lovely drawing of a generic, one presumes Presbyterian, church.

• My mother used to make this recipe for Crunchy Scalloped Turkey. It was tasty in a mushroom-soup-cracker-crumb sort of way. You understand, different times.

• This is a recipe for Blueberry Salad that I can swear on a stack of Bibles my mother never made. No way would she have put pie filling, sour cream, and [Jell-O brand?] gelatin together. Nor would I. Would you?

• Here is a Worth Remembering page featuring advice about how to clean house. My favorite idea is: “Wash old powder puffs in soapy water, rinse well and dry thoroughly. Then use them for polishing silverware, copper and brass.” Truth bomb, I have no powder puffs BUT if I did by cracky, I’d do this.

• Above is a Poetic Contribution to the cookbook. What would a church cookbook be without a hint of sanctimonious snark*? After Esther’s first rhyming stanza she shifts into a rhyme-less warning about bad breeding.

• Here is a close-up of my thick cute cat-eye glasses that measure 4.75″ wide x 1.25″ high. The little curves on the bows held the glasses securely around my ears thus keeping the glasses attached to my wiggly little self.

• And finally here is a photo of the First Presbyterian Cherub Choir in which you can see me over to the left in the front row wearing said cute little glasses.

~ QUESTIONS OF THE DAY ~

Do you have any community cookbooks? If so, did you buy the book, receive it as a gift, or inherit it?

Thinking about how you approach recipes in general, do you follow the instructions religiously or do you wing it adjusting the recipe as you go along?

Did you wear eyeglasses [aka spectacles] as a child? And how did that make you feel? Do you wear them now?

~ • ~

* Another delightful example of snark from an 1890s Presbyterian cookbook found here.