Issue of September 24, Readme: This sort of thing requires a bit of research, and so I have been writing to various companies and asking their publicity people where their corporate or product names came from. Most of these folks have been, as one might expect, extremely cooperative and eager to help, bombarding me in a very welcome avalanche of information.
Dad believed in a big bang theory when it came to stretching a dollar. If he ever walked through another life style, it had existed years before I was born. Suspicions ran rampant that in his early years, Dad had been a big spender, judging from the quality of antique furniture that made its home with us.
We lived in a two story cottage in Upper Darby, a northern neighborhood in the city of liberty, Philadelphia.
Beds of rose bushes lined the front walkway to our home. I remember Dad stopping on the sidewalk each morning on his way to work, picking a new rose and placing it into his suit lapel. In early spring, roses stood proudly by the dozens each morning waiting for the master to choose one of them.
I took spent roses, placed them in a glass jar, added a little water and pounded rose petals with a stick, making perfume for my Mother.
After creating a grueling mess of water and broken rose petals, I proudly gave them to her and waited for her to use the perfume that I had made with love, behind her ears. A proud moment arrived when she would tell me how wonderful the rose water smelled.
On the east side of our home, Dad had constructed cold frames out of lumber and old windows he had collected. It gave seedlings an early start in the spring, protecting them from cold Philadelphia mornings in March until mid April.
Then I helped with the planting of the tiny plants when spring arrived in our neighborhood. The basement, heated by our boiler in Philadelphia winters, became a play area for me after school and on weekends. Dad had turned part of the lower level into a recreational room by painting the walls sky blue and the half windows above ground black, to keep the lights inside from getting out at night during black out exercises in Philadelphia during World War Two.
By winter mornings the house remained freezing to a young boy whose ears heard every blue word my Father could invent, yelling at an inanimate heater. I loved the coal chute descending from the driveway on the first floor to the basement.
Puffs of coal dust tumbled into the air surrounding my slide down to the pile of coal slumped beside the furnace. Mother shook her head at me, handing a bar of lava soap for me to clean up with in the mop sink located across from the room.
During the war, air raid practice drills were common occurrences in Philadelphia. Our entire family gathered in our basement, listening to the radio, playing cards or reading, whiling time away until we heard the all clear siren, cutting through the silence in a city paused for the air raid practice.
It was one more experience telling my mind, the war was a constant reminder of a strong country united in one simple pursuit, the ultimate defeat of our world enemies.West Suburbs & Cayuga County; are working to restore the chestnut tree where the decline was discovered,in the Bronx, NY.
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colinleslie/5(24). Apr 10, · Coaxing American Chestnuts Back to Appalachia.
By Deborah Weisberg April 10, if efforts to restore the American chestnut tree in reclaimed coal fields are successful. Over the next three years, more than acres in Pennsylvania, West Virginia, Virginia, Kentucky and Tennessee will be planted with a variety of American chestnut.
Then, you can leave the orchard with the chestnuts, with chestnut honey (worth the $15 cost), a chestnut knife ($10, for making an "X" before roasting or baking or boiling them), and a heavy metal chestnut roasting pan with long handle (made in Italy, $26 for the big one)/5(27).
American Chestnut - History and Restoration Efforts in Virginia. The American chestnut, Castanea dentata (Marsh.) Borkh., was once a common dominant tree in .