Sandy J. Hartwick's Blog

Photo by Ryan Hafey on UnsplashThe Man in the Red Flannel ShirtThis story was given to me by a childhood friend. I’d heard bits of this story when I was growing up–it is satisfying to present you with the complete version. Names have been changed in this story. The second story belongs to my friend as well. It is a short one, but it gave me chills. The following words belong to my friend.This story was told to me by my childhood friend. I believe it, because my friend is not prone to telling fantastic stories. He considers most ghost and paranormal stories as pure BS. This is a person who never reads or watches ghost stories, because it does not interest him. He is not religious. I am not sure if he believes in God and religion is probably also filed under BS in his mind. So, coming from him this story is all the more amazing.This story has several parts as it has evolved over time. My friend, Craig, grew up in Smith Valley with his father Glenn, his mother Madeline, and his old siblings Roger and Jennifer. Craig was about 5 years younger than his sister and probably 6 or 7 years younger than his brother. The family lived in a ranch style house on the south side of the West Walker River that bisects Smith Valley.The first part of the story was told to Craig by his father. One night Glenn woke up to find a man standing over his wife who was lying next to him in bed. Glenn was a large and muscular sort of fellow who had been captain of the football team in high school. So he jumped up and dove across the bed to tackle the intruder. Instead, he passed right through the man and slammed against the wall with a terrific crash. His wife woke up and wanted to know what the hell was going on. He told her he had seen a man leaning over the bed and that he was sure of it. Glenn described the man as wearing a red flannel shirt and a billed hunting style cap.Some years later Craig was out playing with his brother and sister out by the horse corral behind their family home. Their father Glenn was a roper and kept his roping horse in the corral–there was also an old caboose that was used as a storage shed and tack room. (A caboose seems out of place in Smith Valley, but there was actually a railroad line. The Nevada Copper Belt Railroad operated sporadically from 1911 to 1947, hauling copper ore from mines in the Smith and Mason valleys to the smelter at Thomson. So, I would assume this caboose was a remnant of that railroad.) I had been in the caboose several times before when I had been over visiting Craig. The exterior of the caboose was faded from the sun and the inside was painted white. I remember there was a heavy wooden door on the side of the caboose, the hinges had sagged and the bottom door latch had dug a deep gouge in the floor. The door was very difficult for a small child to open. Inside there were saddles, horse tack, feed and assorted stored items.On this day, the kids wandered into the caboose and came upon one of the family cats so they decided to place the cat in the old bird cage located inside the caboose. After securing the latch on the cage the kids went out of the caboose and closed the door. They went on with their game and had almost forgotten about the cat when the door of the caboose suddenly swung open and the cat came flying out of the caboose like it was thrown out. Craig said the cat was all puffed up and very scared and there was no way it could have gotten out of the cage, let alone move the heavy door. None of the kids would go near the caboose for quite some time after this incident.Many years later, Craig was visiting his mother at the house with his wife and family. During the night Craig’s wife Kayla heard their son John crying and went to find him, since he was not in his bed. John who was about 3 or 4  at the time, was crying at the sliding glass door that led out to the backyard pool. Kayla asked him why he was crying and he said, because he could not open the door. When she asked why he wanted to open the door, he said because the man wanted him to come outside with him. Upon further questioning John told her that the man had a red flannel shirt and a hunting cap. Craig was quite shocked because he had never told Kayla or the kids about the man in the red flannel shirt. Why was the man trying to get John out by the pool?The family is not sure, but they don’t believe the man in the red flannel shirt is a good spirit. They believe he was associated with the caboose, but it was burned down to make room for a new garage. The house is now vacant.

One of the other stories was told to me by Coy Pepper, who actually lived in Smith Valley when he was quite young ,until his parents moved to Idaho and bought a farm near Hagerman.  The story takes place in Idaho, but I am not sure the exact location. 

When Coy was a young bachelor, he was working as an equipment operator. He and one of his friends  decided to rent a place closer to one of their jobs.  After some searching, they found an old ranch house that had been a stage stop in the old days.  Coy said it was pretty run down, but great for a bachelor pad.  The house had a large kitchen with a door to the dining/living room at one end and a door to the back porch on the other.  Coy said everything was fine at first, but they started to notice that every time they went in the kitchen the cabinet doors would be open.  Initially, they  just assumed the other person had left them open, but when Coy was kidding his roommate about always leaving the doors open he told him he thought Coy left them open.  Neither had, so the next assumption was the house was so out of level that the cabinet doors would just slowly open.  The house was old and swaybacked so being out of level was a distinct possibility, but why would the doors on both sides of the room be open? They soon found that they could close all the doors and go out to the living room to watch TV, come back into the kitchen in 5 minutes to get a beer or snack and all the cabinet doors would be open.  They found it strange that you could sit at the kitchen table and eat your breakfast or lunch and the cabinet doors would stay closed. If you left the room the doors would open.  They tried going out of the room and then peeking through the door, but the cabinets never moved as long as someone was watching.  Coy said it got to be a great gimmick at parties. You could show the guests the cabinets closed and then go outside the kitchen, close the door, count to 5 and open the door and show them all the cabinet doors were open.  According to Coy it happened every time like clockwork and he never saw the cabinet doors actually moving–you just closed them and as soon as you came back they would be open.  Coy said they finally just started leaving them open and he and his roommate only stayed in the house for one summer.  Coy is not a person who believes in ghosts, but he said there was definitely something weird going on in that house.

 

Photo courtesy of v2osk

Vision Therapy

About six years ago, I had a choice of reading glasses or vision therapy.  My vision was at 20/25.  I chose and completed three months of vision therapy. My vision improved to 20/15 (better than 20/20)  and my depth perception also improved. I  am happy with my decision.

There were people of all ages at these classes, but many were children, as the vision therapy can make a huge difference in school and sports.

My doctor prescribed twenty minutes of reading per day and a vision exercise to be completed daily also. I have not been religious about keeping up with this, but usually manage to complete these tasks twice a week.

I recommend that you try to look away from your computer, phone, tablet or book at least every two pages or five minutes, whichever applies and look out at the farthest distance you can see. In a room, it may be a corner, but if you are lucky enough to be near a window, it may be a cloud or mountaintop. After this rest your eyes for a few seconds, closing and relaxing them. I’ve read that imagining blackest black (I always think of black velvet) is a quick way to relax the eyes.

I highly recommend the work of Dr. Jacob Liberman, who is the man who trained my doctor and is a pioneer in vision therapy. His book, Take Off Your Glasses and See, is fascinating and is what spurred me to try vision therapy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Christmas Memories

Looking back on the good memories associated with Christmas, it is difficult to pinpoint one Christmas time that was the “Best Ever.” These special times seem to blur together and I remember bits and pieces.

I remember one magical Christmas–there was a full or almost full moon. I awoke in the very early hours of that Christmas morning and tiptoed around the house. The moonlight made it easy for me to navigate the sleeping household. Forced air from the furnace wafted the silver tinsel on the tree and some of the ornaments gently rotated and swayed in the artificial warm breeze. Everyone else in the house slept on as I moved around the tree, observing the stockings that Santa had filled for us. I didn’t dare wake anyone or my parents would be angry. I remember taking in that simple Pinion Pine, the presents  under the tree and the beauty of it all, with my small child-eyes and realizing how special it was and knowing at that moment that I needed to remember it forever. I sat there in the living room in the moonlight just looking the scene and treasuring it. Finally, I went back to bed and fell asleep.

Another Christmas I remember invoved driving out to my grandparent’s house in Carson City. My grandparents had a cool fireplace which you could see in the kitchen/dining and from the living room. There was a gorgeous fire roaring  there on this Christmas Eve. The tree in the living room was in front of the large window that looked out on the neighborhood. It was framed by the fancy, gossamer white curtains my grandmother favored. It was beautiful.

My grandparents had the most amazing ceiling–at least for a kid–it was a popcorn ceiling with sparkles in it. We kids loved to lie on the living room floor and look at the sparkles which seemed even more sparkly and amazing with the Christmas lights and the fire. 

Before dinner that night, I remember being lucky enough to go with my aunt to fetch dessert from an amazing ice cream store that had 31! flavors–something unheard of in the country valley where I lived. I remember looking in case after case at the store at all of the colors and flavors. My aunt in her wisdom selected a green ice cream that I was suspicious of, but later enjoyed, mint chocolate chip.

Everything seemed more sparkly, fantastic and grandiose at Grandma and Grandpa’s house. Grandma had tall, lovely candles on her table and she made her rolls from scratch. All of the food she made was extra delicious. After dinner, gifts were opened. I can’t remember what I received, but I remember my aunts got some cool things like a Spirograph and a Lite-Brite, which my brother and I coveted. I believe we stayed the night, but those details are lost to me.

Another special Christmas was when Santa visited our house and we were still awake. He didn’t have reindeer, but maybe that is because we didn’t have snow that year. I think he drove up with a helper in a Chevy or Ford pickup. Santa brought us some fabulous gifts that night. My brother and I got bikes and my sister got a trike. My bike was a cool purple with tassels on the handlebars and a white basket that was decorated with plastic flowers on the front. We were so surprised that we didn’t question the details too much. We used those bikes for years.

What is it about Christmas past, especially those associated with childhood that make it such a special time? I think that it may be, that as children, we are so focused on the present moment that these memories are seared into our brains with vivid colors, sounds, smells and tastes. It is a cherished time of year for most kids and revved up with anticipation. I hope you have some beloved Christmas memories dear reader and that this year you will have a marvelous Christmas.

 

           

  Photo by Chad Madden on Unsplash

” I remember taking in that simple Pinion Pine, the presents  under the tree and the beauty of it all, with my small child-eyes and realizing how special it was and realizing at that moment that I needed to remember it forever. “

 

   Lemon Curd

 

 Here is another dessert recipe from Sandra Savage, a real life executive chef and cookbook author. She is a graduate from California Culinary Academy (CCA); she has collected and developed recipes while traveling and cooking around the world, including two weeks aboard the USS Blue Ridge in Japan.

 

 

  8 ounces lemon juice

6 eggs

8 ounces sugar

8 ounces unsalted butter, cubed

  In large mixing bowl, blend together lemon juice, mixed eggs and sugar. Over medium heat, whisk mixture until JUST thick. Remove from heat. Add in butter. When melted, stir in.

Serve cold.

 

   

 

 

Photo by Caju Gomes on Unsplash

A Flat Line of Nonstop Serotonin

August 3, 2000

What does truly happy, truly mean? Happily ever after and all of that? Can a person be truly happy for longer than a minute, an hour, a day or a week? Perhaps, if lobotomized. Or insane.

What is happy anyway? For me, happy seems to be mostly moments — that delicious first taste of hot chocolate with whipped cream, the beauty of a coral rose, my child giving me a hug and kiss, my favorite song coming on the radio, the smell of rain on earth or my husband phoning me, “Hello Sweetheart!”. Some happy times last longer — a call from a loved one; a walk among purple mountains, blue skies and sugar pines; a day at the lake with the family. But trying to remember a whole week of pure bliss …

Even on the loveliest vacation, some bad moments will crop up. And some of us don’t even get a vacation. How can one make or have a truly happy normal week? Is there a way to be happy? To feel that each day overall was good?

Maybe true happiness isn’t a flat line of nonstop serotonin and endless sappy sweetness. But just life. Life lived with one foot in reality and the other in pure optimism, hope and faith. Gratitude for the simple gift of life and being lucky enough to be here. Savoring the little things we love and realizing how much they add to our lives. Meeting life with a smile. And following the golden rule.

As Aristotle said, “Happiness depends on ourselves.”

 

 

Orange Basil Sorbet

Here is a dessert recipe from Sandra Savage, a real life executive chef and cookbook author. She is a graduate from California Culinary Academy (CCA); she has collected and developed recipes while traveling and cooking around the world, including two weeks aboard the USS Blue Ridge in Japan.

 

 3⁄4  cup sugar

 3⁄4  cup water

2 cups fresh orange juice

1 cup lightly packed fresh basil chopped

3 tablespoons Grand Marnier or

orange-flavored vodka

3 tablespoons orange zest

 

 In a saucepan, combine the sugar and water over high heat. Stir occasionally until the sugar is completely dissolved and the syrup is simmering, about 5 minutes. Remove from the heat. You should have a little more than 1 cup of syrup.

Combine 3⁄4 cup of the warm syrup with the orange juice, basil, Grand Marnier and orange zest; stir well to combine. Set aside for 30 minutes to 1 hour, according to taste: the basil flavor strengthens as it sits. For faster freezing, transfer the cooled mixture to the refrigerator to chill there first.

Strain the mixture and then freeze it in an ice-cream maker, following the manufacturer’s instructions.

Serve frozen.

 

 

 

Photo by NeONBRAND on Unsplash
Good Grief!

We all have those days when we wonder why we ever crawled out of the covers. Yesterday was my turn. First thing in the morning, my husband went and put the dog out in her pen. To do this he had to go downstairs, across the basement to her crate, out the sliding glass doors and about thirty feet across the lawn to Bindi’s pen and then reverse it to get back up to the living room. Once there he said, “What’s that?”

I looked down at the carpet at a turd, which looked to be of cat origin. The unpleasant discovery did not end as we found that my husband had stepped in it and was now tracking it on the wool area-rug. In defense of my cat, I had just cleaned all of her cat boxes, she had not been in the house most of the day before and how could we have missed a cat gift in the middle of the living room?

Then the awful idea occurred that perhaps my husband had stepped on this thing outside and brought it all through the house and up the stairs! NO! If you know me, you know that my Howard Hughes type tendencies were popping at this point.

After much CSI investigation, we found no further evidence on the route he had used. Against all odds, we believe he stepped in it outside and because it was on the outside toe of his slipper, miraculously, it did not fall off until he reached the living room. (We know this, because when it was daylight, he found the point of initial contact out on the lawn.) Some of you will say, “At least your Roomba didn’t find it!” An excellent point and you are right, because things can always get worse.

After cleaning up the mess, we hoped our day would get better. My husband had called our internet provider the night before, because we were having terribly low speed and the lady he talked to said, “I remember you, you called about a month ago, we were having a network problem. We still haven’t fixed it.”

I suggested that he call them this morning and ask for a month credit. After being on hold for over half an hour, he finally talked to someone who told him, “We are having a network problem with one of the towers and we will be installing fiber optic cable. You will have problems until December 15.”

Imagine this company charging everyone their regular bill while knowing that their service was going to be substandard and NOT what they are paying for. They did give us a credit for one month, but really!?

Of course we both had a lot of work to do online. I did not get my blog completed yesterday and everything I had to do on the computer took twice as long or longer than it should have.

Finally, we are having our bathroom remodeled and thankfully we are blessed with some extra bathrooms, one of them in the basement. I used the toilet in the basement and flushed the toilet and the handle snapped off in my hand. Really?! The timing just seemed too convenient. I thought of Bruce Almighty–“Smite me! Almighty Smiter!”

I know, all of these problems are tiny. They are all first world problems and I know that means that I don’t have any real problems. I am blessed. But sometimes I forget that and just have to say, “Good grief!” a phrase my third grade teacher said often. I remember  Charlie Brown used it a lot too.

For those of you that are wondering about that phrase, “good grief” was originally a mild oath. It’s “a euphemism for ‘good God,’ ” according to The American Heritage Dictionary of Idioms (2d ed.), by Christine Ammer. https://www.grammarphobia.com/blog/2017/07/good-grief.html

 

 

 

 

 

Gingery Jasmine Rice

 

 Here is another tasty recipe from Sandra Savage, a real life executive chef and cookbook author. She is a graduate from California Culinary Academy (CCA); she has collected and developed recipes while traveling and cooking around the world, including two weeks aboard the USS Blue Ridge in Japan.

 

  2 tablespoons olive oil

2 small quarter size pieces of ginger, peeled and minced

1 garlic clove, minced

1⁄4 jalapeño, seeded

1⁄2 shallot, minced

1  cup jasmine rice

2  cups chicken stock

1 tablespoon cilantro, minced

salt and pepper, to taste

 

Heat olive oil in a medium saucepan over medium- high heat. Add ginger, garlic, jalapeño and shallot and sauté for 1 minute.

Add rice. Toast rice for 1-2 minutes. Add chicken stock.

Add cilantro. Taste and adjust seasoning with salt and pepper.

Cover saucepan and reduce heat to low. Cook for 20–25 minutes, or until the rice is tender.

Serve hot.

   

 

 

 

Creamy Feta Pine Nut Spread

 

Since Thanksgiving is less than two weeks away, I thought it might be a great time to post some recipes. Please check out this recipe. It belongs to Sandra Savage, a real life chef and author.

 

    1 8-ounce tub whipped cream cheese spread

1⁄2 cup plain nonfat yogurt

3 tablespoons pine nuts

2 tablespoons (packed) chopped fresh basil

1 garlic clove, minced

1 7-ounce package feta cheese, crumbled

1⁄3 cup oil-packed sun-dried tomatoes, drained and chopped

 

Preheat oven to 325°F.

Spread the nuts on a baking sheet and place in the oven. Toast, shaking the sheet occasionally, until the nuts just begin to change color and are fragrant, about 3 minutes. Remove toasted pine nuts from oven and let cool to room temperature, about 5–10 minutes.

While toasted pine nuts are cooling, place cream cheese, yogurt, basil and garlic in processor. Blend, using on/off turns, until combined. Add feta cheese and sun-dried tomatoes and blend, using on/off turns, until combined but still chunky.

Stir in cooled toasted pine nuts.

Transfer spread to bowl. Cover and refrigerate. Makes about two cups. Can be made up to three days ahead.

Serve cold.

 

 

Colorblind

It was 1974, and Rex, his older brother Mike and his father, John were headed to Elko, Nevada on a deer hunting trip. It was dark, around eight or nine p.m. They had all of their gear and two horses in their trailer as they approached the Carlin tunnel. The tunnel was under construction and traffic was being diverted from the freeway to the old, two lane highway that followed along the river.

They were about halfway along this road when the lights shorted out on the truck. The road was narrow, but John managed to find a wide enough patch along the pavement to get the truck and trailer off the road. It was not the best place, because there was busy traffic on one side  and river on the other. With the hood up and one of the boys holding the flashlight, he tried to find the problem. The emergency flashers wouldn’t even work.

After struggling for some time, a pickup with a cab-over camper pulled up behind them and put on its emergency blinkers. The man was just returning from a deer hunt himself, had seen them broken down, driven until he had found a place to turn around and come back to help.

He and John worked together and finally found that the winch on the truck had rubbed the wiring apart. John patched the wires and they were good to go again. He shook the man’s hand, thanking him for his help.

He and the boys admired the four-point buck the man had harvested. They said goodbye and went their separate ways. Rex still remembers the man’s kindness and finds it remarkable that out of all of the many cars that passed them, a black man from Oakland stopped in the middle of nowhere to help some white people he didn’t know.

“With the hood up and one of the boys holding the flashlight, he tried to find the problem. The emergency flashers wouldn’t even work. ”

Photo by Jonas Verstuyft on Unsplash