SheilaTGTG55's Open Salon Blog

You at Arlington

Mon, 28 May 2012 17:05:17 -0400

Arlington National Cemetery

Image courtesy of Wikipedia

You

I am remembering you today.

So much more than your stone in Arlington...

I am hearing you laugh today.

Sand and heat, mud and leeches...

I am remembering you today.

Your whisper in the night...

I love you too!

And Thanks.

This Memorial Day & One American Soldier

Mon, 21 May 2012 18:05:21 -0400

A soldier doing the job, David Bednar. Photo credit Ken Miller.

A Soldier’s Memorial Day

The passage of time is the only way to see something in retrospection. Memorial Day is a good day to look back on a soldier’s war experience and share the thoughts and circumstances that make the man the soldier. While these experiences are different for every man and woman in the military, it is possible to see this man’s evolution as one that many experience. Fathers and mothers, aunts and uncles, cousins and siblings, friends and acquaintances can all be a part of a soldiers experience back home. In the field it is men and women, just like themselves, there to do a job, and with luck go home again, that make indelible marks on their existence. These moments, tense and brief as it may be in retrospect are life altering and lasting. The bravery of these soldiers cannot be dismissed or forgotten, no matter which side of the war question a person can be on. On the battlefield there is really no politics, only command and execute. That is the business the soldier signs on for and that is the business of war. Many who have served have done so with honor, their bravery the very stuff that heroes are made of. Even those who do not distinguish themselves officially, are heroes to many as they do the job they are assigned. They do it with honor and efficiency. If they don’t, then people can die. So yes, they do it with the best in them, that is what they signed up for and that is how their mission is best carried out.

The following is an interlude with a soldier that gets at the heart of some of those experiences, things that you might not know, and things that might not have been shared before publically. What matters is that with each person who serves, there is a way to live it, learn from it and honor it. There is always a choice in how we conduct ourselves, and what we think, and how our lives benefit or not from adversity and challenge. A soldier in our path can be identified by their uniform, or sometimes by the way they handle themselves and how they relate to those around them. Many come back no longer whole, wounded in places we cannot see and struggling with experiences we, as civilians, can only begin to understand. Our experience is not their experience, so we cannot know, unless we communicate and they share with us that time in their life. So in honor of Memorial Day I wanted to ask a soldier in my family about his experience.

The first question I asked was about his personal information, his service dates, rank and where he was stationed. The remaining questions will help unfold and provide an important debriefing of this man’s experience.

I entered service on 12 February 1999 on the Delayed entry program, and finished basic training on 28 August of 2000. I was assigned to HHB 2^nd Battalion 7^th Cavalry Regiment of the 1^st Cavalry Division, out of Fort Hood, Texas. I was a signal support systems specialist (all forms of communications). I would later be assigned to Charlie Company 2bn7th cav as their communications guy for deployment to Iraq. 2004-2005, I was involved in the siege for Najaf and the second battle for Fallujah. Both engagements were heavy fighting. Upon my return home from Iraq I started my transition to civilian life, but would be recalled into service just a few months later. After my recall I decided to take an active role in the national guard, where I currently still serve my country.

Some young men choose the military experience after high school. I know that was your experience. Can you share your reasons why you choose the military?

To be honest I can’t recall ever having a reason other than I always loved and admired the men and women that served and I wanted to be like them one day. Even as a young child growing into adolescence I played army and took a huge interest in military history, and technology.

What does the experience teach about leadership, responsibility, politics, and any other important concepts?

Leadership was something that came with time. I believe that by having outstanding mentors and teachers throughout my military career who stressed the importance of not only learning my job but enjoying my job played as a segway into leadership. Nobody enjoys having to take orders from someone who isn’t proficient in their job duties, but by knowing your job you command the respect of your peers and higher command. I’m confident in saying that with where I stand now in my job is exactly what allows me to approach situations from a more professional stand point. Politics in my opinion are different for a soldier so I’m going to tread lightly. My favorite movie quote is from Gladiator when Russell Crow is asked what he favors emperor or senate, Russell Crow replies, “A soldier is able to look his enemies in the eyes”. I’m going to leave the politics question at that.

(COMMODUS: [Making introductions.] Senator Gaius, Senator Falco.
Beware of Gaius, he will pour honeyed potion in your ear and you will wake up saying Republic! Republic!
GAIUS: Well, Rome WAS founded as a Republic.
COMMODUS: Yes and in a republic, the senate has the power. But Senator Gaius is not influenced by that, of course.
FALCO: Where do you stand General, Emperor or Senate?
MAXIMUS: A soldier has the advantage of being able to look his enemy in the eye, Senator. From the movie Gladiator.)

How do you feel about your service then and now?

That’s a tough question, but one that must be answered. I would say I took a lot for granted when I first came into the service even for my first few years. I think being young and still learning who I was played a role in that. As the years progressed so did my understanding of myself, family, friendships, and life. Currently looking back over that time, I wouldn’t trade one day. All of the bumps and bruises on that path led me to where I am now, and that is happy in life. I’m very proud to count myself amongst some of the most giving and loving people I have had the honor to work with.

How did you experience cultural gaps, the physical environment, and what kind of imprint do you think those experience made on you?

Cultural gaps were a daily part of life on active duty. You meet so many people from all around the country and world. From customs and language barriers to nationality and family values, it always amazed me that no matter the differences, everyone genuinely wanted to be at peace and enjoy a good conversation, perhaps over a cup of coffee at times. I enjoyed every conversation I have ever had, even the heated ones. I was opened up to art, world history, and different ways of thinking, just by a simple conversation. All I had to do was become a better listener and I hope I have achieved that to some degree.

Did this make you appreciate home more, did it spark adventure to you, and did you experience a kinship or close relationship with people native to the area?

I have many fond memories of home, and growing up there. The smells, tastes, and sights and I missed it so very much when I was deployed. I missed my mother’s meatloaf, and her lasagna, my grandma’s German potato salad, going to Portillios, and Lou Malnati’s (area restaurants). These were the small things that are uniquely Chicago. When I was in Iraq, we had an interpreter who was educated in the States and went back over because he believed in seeing a better life for his family in his country. We shared many cigarettes, long conversations, and made many laughs together. It was nice to see that even if it was just him, a single person, who was looking forward to new beginnings, it made it (the hardships, the combat) all seem worth it. I had heard several months down the road he was killed for working with the US. It was a shame that his brothers and sisters over there were so torn that they would snuff out the flame of hope like that.

How did you experience your unit, brotherhood, comradely, was the group close, how are relationships then and now.

Iraq brought us very close together. Even to this day I would welcome any one of them into my house as family. We shared everything from the best of times to the very worst of times. We lost some of our brothers over there, and I think of all of them almost daily. It seems with time that we have all slowly started coming back together via Facebook or other social media. I must say it’s good to see that they are living their lives just the same as I. We never talk about feelings, and I don’t think we have to, it’s understood.
----

Perhaps in these words lie the true understanding of a soldier and his experience. We do remember, we remember the boy, we see the man. We know that there are many boys who become men there and many who do not come home. In their memory, those who do return, live the unspoken bonds remembered, the experiences which made them men, and they do not forget their brothers. Memory is not always a dark place where we cannot bear to see what is lost. Memory is sometime the echo of laughter, the remarkable joke, the look of knowing and the essence of the moment. All of us carry memories and while we live and breathe, we make many more. We know that we will continue to share ourselves along the way and in turn, we will remember those who shared with us.

In your Memorial Day experience this year, take a moment or two to think about those who serve our country. They serve us and we would do well to generously remember those who have fallen and those who continue to take the risks which help make our nation safe, they are our brothers and sisters.

Thank you for your service to our country, David Bednar.

Tanks

Cigarettes

Kids

Java

Photo Credits David Bednar.

In Childhood You Are Young

Sat, 19 May 2012 23:05:31 -0400

In the awakening distance

where the young are in between

the aging forces of their nature

and the child hood grace of being

the merging cyclone of their

youth entwines

the distant threads

of history and memory

music to the dead

while each a fearsome stance

proclaims, "I am grown up!"

"You are a child!" the tender

elder whittles back bridges

and seeks the place of limitless smiles

"I am a child!"

"No you are grown up!"

Fancy that a backwards

lever

where one was once and is no more

you sent me back and I am now

the place where you are too

where the old meet young

and trade places

or sit awhile and are the same

where ships passing in some fog

of memory

call to each other in a night

lit only by a muffled moon

you are young

it is almost June

when a magic twists and flips

and we are switched

"I am young"

"You are old"

On Manners

Wed, 16 May 2012 15:05:45 -0400

If you were born at a certain time in the fifties, chances are you might have grown up with some manners. Not everyone, but most people did teach their children some manners. The fifties boom time was an opportunity for families to grow and neighborhoods to multiply. I was the child of older parents, who were born in the twenties. Popping out in the mid-fifties as I did, I was the youngest in the family. I went to grade school in the sixties and high school in the early seventies. I was able to see the difference even in high school between the kids of older parents and the kids of younger parents. It was not that they were date stamped on their foreheads or anything, but literally, all kinds of their behavior reflected how they were raised.

There were differences. In certain circles manners were everything. I can remember being told what to do and how to act. I also remember there were such things as Charm Schools for girls, debutante dances and dress codes. My sister only two years older than myself went to one of those charm schools. She also was presented at a ball. We were not allowed to wear jeans to school in high school and we wore uniforms at our grade school.

I am certain that as children we were annoying. My parents had two older children and there was a ten year difference between my oldest sister and myself. The best medicine for annoying children seemed to be manners. We were taught things like, "Don’t interrupt". We were informed on what not to say, such as, "uh huh", "like", "you know", and swear words.

We were taught not to eat in front of other people without sharing. We were taught that when someone was going in to eat after playing outside, we should leave. We were taught not to interrupt meal times by calling people on the phone or appearing at their door. We were taught how to set a table, how to write a thank you note, how to answer the phone, how to answer the door, in other words, how to be polite.

I can still remember being told not to discuss politics, religion or money with anyone, that all that information was private unless that was the topic of discussion and purposeful. If you had an opinion about any of it, you must share it gracefully and appropriately.

Throughout my life I learned that my manners set me apart from others. It gave me opportunities and experiences that others did not have or could not appreciate. It set me apart in many ways from my peers. I was taught not to pry, not to gossip or spread rumors. I was taught not to dress in tight clothes, to dress appropriately for an occasion and that it was rude to sleep (and snore) during an opera.

I was taught to say thank you, to ask how someone was doing and if someone asked me in turn, not to give a litany of aches and pains, don't drone on with too much information. I was taught not to be late, that promptness reflected courtesy.

I tried to pass all these gems on to my children. If I am unique, it is because I have lived by a code of manners and believed that respect was important. I have appreciated those who were different than myself, who were not a mirror image of myself. I have learned things by being open and in fact, improved my world view, by communicating with many types of people.

So I can confidently say I am not a snob by any means, my manners did not teach that or imply that.

Unfortunately somewhere along these lines, those important lessons have been gravely lost by many of my generation and new generations going forward. We have forfeited many courtesies and graces when we threw manners out the window. I think our politics today is a reflection of some of that. I also think it is a reflection of snobbery and pretentiousness, accompanied strongly by a worship of power and money. Many do not have power, many do not have money, but perhaps if we had all been taught how to speak to each other and how to behave graciously, we would not be discussing some of things we are today in politics and handling more of the people's business.

I sometimes think we are a bunch of pioneers in the old west, with no law and order and great injustices being done, because those with power, money and guns could just get away with it. We had evolved so much as a society since that time, but it seems some of us longed for and glamourized that era to the point that power is the signal that anything goes. Do you remember giving up all your sense of privacy and decorum? Or, really, has it just been stolen from us like so many other things. The hallmarks of our civilized society, our sense of fairness and peace are daily disappearing. Why?

Teach your children well.

Happy Mother's Day, Cooking with Love and Remembrance

Thu, 10 May 2012 15:05:25 -0400

Mother’s Day is a special day for me as it is a constant reminder of the birth of my twin sons. They were born on this day 20 years ago. This weekend we will have a dinner and our usual family time and I will cherish it as I always do. I will also think of my deceased mother and mother in law and all the things that these women did in their lives for their children.

Somewhere in all of this I will remember all the food my mother used to make when she was still energetic and able to “cook up a storm”. When I was a little girl, we lived in Indiana and in that little place called Hessville, my mother made kitchen magic. Our kitchen table was large and made of that tubular steel legs and a kind of black and white marble looking top. The chairs were thick and padded in the 1950’s fashion. This table would be draped in homemade noodle dough. The raw dough covered the table and it was a table for six. It would dry and my mother would cut them into long thin strips for noodle soup and a number of other dishes. This was a huge process and one that she did skillfully.

I can still taste my mother’s apple slices with a light frosting glaze. I can hardly believe that even though she stopped making these probably in the 1960’s I can still taste them and see them. She would make a cookie pan full of these slices. Perfect dough, just the right filling and somehow they would all stay together and taste wonderful.

When we moved to South Holland I was a girl of about 6. Being the youngest in the family, I was probably technically spoiled, but when I think about it, with reference to food, I was not. Technically, I got the least home made goodies, I was not around to experience all the tasty efforts of my mother and grandmother, only part of them, as they gave in to the modern age and packaged noodles, store bought apple slices and other easily obtainable foods. I missed years of their cooking, being born last.

Yes, some foods were still homemade, all the tasty dishes that had to be made that people craved and could not be found in the freezercase, these included stuffed cabbage, nut rolls, chicken paprikash, cucumbers and sour cream, krazy cake, sweet bread, etc. Time marches on and not everyone can make my grandmother’s nut rolls or my mother’s chicken paprikash. (although, I make a valiant effort) There was an old custom in some cultures that you did not share your family recipes, at least not in their entirety. So if you had Mrs. Vamousch’s nut roll recipe, you did not have it exact, exact. Some little piece of information got left out. It often dies with the last matriarch of a family if it has not been orally passed down in the family.

In the old days your recipes were like gold. They were coveted. It was something that only a few people understand or practice today. The times they lived in were different. They had very little in the way of material goods, or wealth. Their wealth was in things like their unique knowledge of how they did something, how they prepared their special foods, or wine or prepared something. Women had great pride in their traditions and especially their recipes. Some villages were special for certain kinds of this or that. Maybe it was wine, because only a certain kind of plum grew there.

In WWII there was a certain kind of hell called Terezin or Theresienstadt. It was a ghetto and concentration camp. It was a place that Hitler decorated up to show that Jews were being treated well to the Red Cross and other authorities that it was necessary to impress. They even made a film about it for propaganda purposes.

This camp was located in Czechoslovakia and while it was only about 40 miles north of Prague it was worlds away. It was first a holding camp prior to departure for Auschwitz and other camps. Prominent people, special Jews, were brought to this camp. Some even paid their own passage.

In the midst of this horrid place, mothers and grandmothers recalled their family recipes and committed them to pages long hidden in Terezin. Women, starved and deprived of their lives for a brief moment in time committed their secrets to paper and hid them away. Mina Pachter, was the person who complied the recipes, her daughter survived by escaping to Palestine, and 25 years after the war, the manuscript which included letters and poems by Mina found there way to her in New York, where she had immigrated.

My gesture today in remembering these women and their effort to preserve memories of their favorite dishes, their ability to cook, to do for their families, to remember entertaining, the joy of feeding someone, while they starved, is a renewed testimony to their spirit.

I remember so much about my mother and grandmother, but as a child I remember the food, the kitchen, the smells and the happiness of holiday meals. This mother’s day I will prepare a turkey given to us by a friend who likes to shower us with food at Christmas time. I will prepare it for my houseful of children and their college friend who lives to far away to visit his mother. I will make food the following weekend for my daughter’s tent party and people who have been here before are already talking about if I will make this food or that food.

I am really, sincerely, not a good cook. When I was young I did not watch carefully how to cook things my mother made. I could fail at making jello. I have said that when I married that changed. I began to make food as an expression of love.

To honor the women who cook with love, here is a recipe from the book In Memories Kitchen, a Legacy from the Women of Terezin. Edited by Cara De Silva, Translated by Bianca Steiner Brown with a forward by Michael Berenbaum, Director the United States Holocaust Research Institute, Washington D.C. 1996 Jason Aronson Inc. (Publisher ) New Jersey.

Viennese Dumplings (Mrs. Weil)

Wiener Knödel (Frau Weil)

Translated from the German, page 40 of Memory’s Kitchen

Amounts are not exact and sometimes ingredients are missing. I have made packaged dumplings in the past, found with imported German foods from Bavaria. Inmates at this ghetto/camp/city were from mostly Czechoslovakia but also Austria and Germany as well as other places, their recipes reflect that, and they were translated from other languages besides German.

Pour over six rolls cut into cubes, ¼ liter hot milk, 1 spoon butter. Mix well. When cooled add 2 eggs, a little salt, and as much flour as it absorbs. Let stand. Form dumplings and before the meal, boil 8-10 minutes. Sprinkle dumplings with cinnamon and sugar, or serve (plain) with roasts.

*************************

Bread Dumplings

Semmelknödel - Bread Dumplings

From Whats4Eats Site

· Stale rolls or bread, cubed -- 10-12 rolls, or about 1 pound

· Warm milk -- 3/4 to 1 1/4 cups

· Eggs, beaten -- 2-3

· Fresh parsley, minced -- 2 tablespoons

· Salt and pepper -- to season

Method

1. Place the bread in large bowl and pour in the warm milk, using more or less depending on how dry the bread is. Using your hands, knead the milk lightly into the bread. Cover and set aside to rest for about 30 minutes.

2. Mash the soaked bread to form a thick dough. Mix in the eggs one at a time, incorporating each one before adding the next. Only use the third egg if the dough is too dry to form balls that hold togehter.

3. Add the parsley, salt and pepper and knead until smooth. If the dough seems too loose or sticky, add 1-2 tablespoons of flour or some breadcrumbs to firm it up.

4. Using wetted hands, form 1/4-cup portions of the dough into balls and set aside on a baking sheet until all the dough has been used up.

5. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil over medium-high heat. Reduce heat to a slow simmer and drop the dumplings carefully into the water. Simmer for about 20 minutes, gently stirring occasionally.

6. Remove to a bowl with a slotted spoon and serve hot.

Variations

· Schinkenknödel: Mix 1/3 poundb chopped ham into the dough

.· Sauté 1/2 minced onion in 2 tablespoons of butter and mix it into the dough.

· Other possible additions: thyme, sage, marjoram, or a pinch of nutmeg.

· Leftover dumplings can be sliced into rounds and browned in a little butter.

Notes

· The bread mixture should form a dough that can be molded into balls. How much milk and how many eggs to add is heavily dependent on the moisture content of the bread. Too much liquid, and the dough will be too wet to form balls. Too little liquid, and the dumplings will fall apart.

· Do not use American-style sandwich bread for this recipe as it is too soft and collapses too completely. Use a good quality roll or bread that has some chew.

Recipe & dumpling courtesy of Whats4Eats http://www.whats4eats.com/pastas/semmelknoedel-recipe