I mentioned in my last post my friend Teagan calls me jewelry. After I wrote that post, I started thinking about why I chose the name Julz in the first place for myself.
My birth name was Clare, and my adopted name was Kathleen. I never once felt like a Kathleen or Kathy. I had felt this way since I was young; it sometimes sounded odd.
Many people called me by my maiden name, which was Parks, not because I asked them to; they said it was just more fitting for me. I had to agree.
I went by and answered to Parks, Sparks, Spark-plug, Sparkler, and Sparky. When I met Marty, he called me Sweets or some other name, but rarely Kathy.
I changed my name to Julz for many reasons. I wrote about it when I first started my blog in a post called I am Julz.
I wanted a name that meant something to me. It needed to be something that represented me and my personality. I decided on Julz but almost went with Jade.
A jewel or a gemstone is precious with many different shapes and cuts. Some gemstones are opaque, and others are brilliant in color. Some gems like diamonds have many cuts which are glittery and sparkling.
A piece of jewelry can be made up of different types of gemstones. The jewels in that piece of jewelry represent me.
I have as many sides to me as cuts in a diamond. I am funny, sometimes a tough guy, or a softee that gets mushy and emotional.
I am a hard worker and a daydreamer. I curse like a sailor but have a deep spiritual connection with God. I am a leader and a teacher but want to be taken care of when needed.
I am strong, a perfectionist, and highly driven, but I have allowed myself to be vulnerable, hurt, and heartbroken by a few people who were supposed to love me.
I try to be generous and kind but do the people I love wrong or me, and I will be in your face so fast it will make your head spin. I like peaceful moments and know when to keep quiet, but I love being loud, dancing and laughing.
Yes, I have many sides, represented as the cuts in the jewels that make up me; I am a precious piece of jewelry. My name is Julz; this is me!
*** The photo of the Crown Jewels of Ireland popped out when I looked at images for inspiration. I read the Popsugar article and decided I wanted to use it. Ironically, through Ancestory.com, I found out I am more than 70% Irish, something no one ever guessed, not even me.
I met Teagan four summers ago at the Saratoga Farmers Market. She was in a wheelchair being pushed by her mom Holly. They stopped at my spätzle booth; I gave them the spatzle spiel and a sample. Teagan loved it. Holly was thrilled she loved it.
Teagan and her mom Holly visited me every couple of weeks at the farmers market. Some weeks Teagan was too sick to come with her. Teagan was battling cancer again for the second time in her short life.
It was heartbreaking for Teagan to stay home because I knew the chemotherapy was making her very ill. I was glad our spätzle was one of the few things she could tolerate and eat during this terrible time, plus she loved it.
After Holly would come by to pick up Teagan’s spätzle, I would get so emotional and sometimes wept on my way home. I remember questioning God why he chose this for Teagan, such a beautiful, sweet girl.
Teagan is backstage at Proctor’s Theatre with the actress who played Elsa in the broadway show Frozen. We went to the same show two nights before which was fabulous! There was a touching video of Teagan and Elsa singing “Let it go” together. The video had to be taken down, unfortunately, but at least I saw it.
One day just before Christmas, Holly seemed upset. I was amazed how she could hold it together and be so strong for Teagan. It seemed Teagan wasn’t doing well, and Holly was afraid. We hugged each other at the indoor market, both of us crying. I prayed harder than I had ever prayed before.
I saw Teagan once at the beginning of covid; then I stopped doing the Saratoga market since we decided to grow our wholesale business and only concentrate on doing one farmers market.
I was friends with Holly on Facebook and was able to keep tabs on how Teagan was doing. For a while, they made endless trips to the ER and hospital. The chemo was taking a toll on her body.
This is one tough girl!
Then guess what? She got better! She kicked cancer in the butt twice. Her hair was growing back! She was smiling, and so was Holly. She didn’t need her wheelchair anymore.
I watched Teagan finally get to go on her Make a Wish Disney cruise after being canceled numerous times due to covid. I saw how beautiful she looked in her prom dress she got to go to this spring. This made me cry tears of joy.
Teagan at prom.
I saw Holly in person for the first time two weeks ago. She came to Troy to pick up some spätzle for Teagan. I told her to say ‘hi’ to Teagan for me.
Teagan always calls me Jewelry, and she would correct her mother when she referred to me as Julz. When she gave her my message, she said you meant “Jewelry?” I got a big laugh when Holly messaged me later that day.
Last Saturday, I saw Holly. I was surprised since I had seen her the week before. She told me Teagan wanted to come to see me. I waited for Teagan to come by, then, through a sea of people, I spotted her at the same time she spotted me.
She started running towards me, I ran out of the spätzle booth, and we hugged each other. You could almost hear music playing like when that happens in a movie.
Can I tell you that was the biggest and best hug I may have ever gotten? I started to get emotional but pulled myself together in under 2 seconds when I looked at how happy and healthy she was and silently thanked God.
We talked about her prom and her trip. It was like the entire world stopped when we were talking to each other. Her smile could not only light up a room but the whole sky!
Teagan is my hero; her mother is one too. What this family went through not once but twice required so much strength and love. Teagan had the will to kick cancer’s butt because she has many things she is determined to do, like going to prom and back to school.
Cancer affects everyone in a family. Teagan has two older brothers and a giant circle of family and friends that love and support her and Holly. I watched on Facebook how wonderful her brothers are with her, even when they are away at school. I met one of them at the market on Saturday, and we laughed that we both know a lot about each other.
Being reunited with Teagan was a special moment in my life. Watching her run towards me still makes me smile. If it weren’t for our spätzle business, I never would have met Teagan. Everyone comes into your life with a purpose; maybe hers was to show me what true determination and strength look like.
I know I am just one small person in her big circle of supporters and fans. How lucky am I?
*** I knew I wanted to write about Teagan; this blog post practically wrote itself this morning during production. I sent Holly a message asking her if it would be ok, and she said, “Of course.” I always ask permission before writing a blog piece about someone else. I’ve only been turned down once and respected the person’s wishes.
I rediscovered our library here in Arlington last winter. We have a lovely library and a great selection of books. I used to take the boys there weekly when they were little.
I have been staying off social media except for business stuff on Facebook and Instagram. I jump around my pages like a madman avoiding as much negativity as possible.
I haven’t watched the news either because when I do, the stress and anxiety attacks I’ve been having are relentless. For my own mental health, this is what I have chosen; to live under a rock. Ironically, I’ve been sleeping better as well.
I went online and looked up the summer reading list for 2022 and made my own list which included other light, romantic, fictional novels about history and food.
I found a shit load of books online and made a list in notes on my iPhone so that I won’t leave it home while at the library; I can’t lose it either.
My shopping lists are always left behind on the kitchen counter when I am at the store. When I remember, I take a photo of the list, but not always. It infuriates me when I forget the list because my mind goes blank as I wander up and down the aisles of the food store.
Luckily, today the library hours are 9-8; after production and lunch, I went to look for books. The place was empty and quiet, which was fantastic.
I found a book from the 2022 summer reading list right away. I also found one of the culinary romantic novels as well. This is a perk of living in a small town; popular books are available and not checked out.
When I was young, I loved reading. I used to walk to the library all the time. Reading took me away from the shit in my own life and transported me to faraway places and different timelines.
I made “new friends” with the characters in the books and was sad when I finished the book. I was always pissed when the book had a shitty ending. Whenever I would finish a series of books, it left me heartbroken and empty, not knowing what to read next. I know this is a little dramatic, but that’s how it felt to a 13-year-old girl.
I loved reading on vacations at the beach or a pool when I got older. After we had children, my dad died, and dealing with my mother; I didn’t have the concentration to read. I tried many times but couldn’t concentrate. I desperately needed the escape, but it wouldn’t happen.
I did love reading out loud to the boys when they were little. I used many different voices and made the books exciting, funny, and enchanting. Even though they loved when I read stories and books theatrically to them, neither grew up to be readers; they took after Marty in that respect. That’s ok.
After I checked out my books today, I marked on my calendar when they are due since they don’t stamp the date in the back like they used to. I used to play library as a kid whenever I had a stamper and an ink pad. Sam took after me as a child when it came to imaginary play. It would make me smile whenever I saw him setting up a school room, store, or office like I did.
I know many people love reading and downloading books on their Kindles, but I like to hold a book in my hands and turn the pages. I am old-fashioned regarding a few things, and this is one of them.
Now, I have to decide which book to start first. I look forward to reading at the pool, front porch, and back deck. This will be much healthier for me than staring at my phone in disbelief.
After I finish these, I have a list of 25 other books to search for and read. I’m so happy I can concentrate and read again. I look forward to escaping this crazy world we live in and being transported to another place and time, just like I did when I was young.
I made a lot of different dishes this weekend and had some leftovers; not enough to be served on their own, but perfect as the base for something new.
It’s raining today, which we need desperately, so I felt like having soup for lunch. I looked in the fridge and found two small grilled Italian chicken breasts and one grilled Thai chicken breast.
I also found a couple of lonely jalapeños, some chopped onions, and the last of the cilantro from the shrimp tacos the other night. Eureka! I had a plan!
I went into the pantry and knew I would find the rest of the ingredients to make a pot of Mexican Chicken Tortilla Soup. I looked up my original recipe for the soup to remind me how I made it in the past. Looking up my own recipes is always comical to me.
I grabbed a can of corn, black beans, chicken stock, and Rotel diced tomatoes with chilis. I rinsed off the Thai chicken breast, getting rid of the Thai glaze, and shredded it along with the two Italian ones. I chopped up three cloves of garlic and cilantro. Next, I got some chili powder, cumin, smoked paprika, garlic & onion powder, and masa.
My original recipe has a longer cooking time, but since the chicken breasts were already very flavorful, the soup came together faster. I finished the soup from start to finish in under 30 minutes.
Today’s version.
I didn’t have two compondents on hand to finish off the soup, so I improvised. The recipe calls for fresh lime juice and corn tortillas which are cut into strips and fried. I had tortilla chips with a touch of lime and decided to use those as a substitution.
Ironically, this quick version of Chicken Tortilla Soup was my best one yet. The key was the grilled, flavorful chicken breasts that gave the soup more flavor than starting with raw chicken.
I finished the soup bowls with crushed lime tortilla chips, chopped cilantro, and a dollop of sour cream. It hit the spot perfectly on a rainy day. Yum!
All mixed together.
Here is my original Chicken Tortilla Soup recipe for those who want to try it someday.
Chicken Tortilla Soup
My original version.
Ingredients
2 whole Boneless, Skinless Chicken Breasts 1 Tablespoon Olive Oil 2 teaspoons Cumin 2 teaspoons Chili Powder 1 teaspoon Garlic Powder 1 teaspoon Onion Powder 1/2 teaspoon Smoked Paprika 1 Tablespoon Olive Oil 1 cup Diced Onion 1/4 cup Diced Green Bell Pepper 1/4 cup Red Bell Pepper 3 cloves Garlic, Minced 1 can (10 Oz. Can) Rotel Tomatoes And Green Chilies 32 ounces Chicken Stock 3 Tablespoons Tomato Paste 4 cups Hot Water 2 cans (15 Oz. Can) Black Beans, Drained 1 can Corn Kernals, Drained 3 Tablespoons Cornmeal Or Masa Kosher Salt To Taste 5 whole Corn Tortillas, Cut Into 1/2 Inch Uniform Strips Canola or vegetable oil to cover the bottom of a small frying pan about 1/4 – 1/2 cup
Garnishes
Sour Cream Diced Avocado Diced Red Onion Salsa Or Pico De Gallo Chopped Fresh Cilantro Sliced Green Onions Grated Monterey Jack Cheese Cilantro Fresh lime wedges
Preparation
Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Mix cumin, chili powder, garlic powder, onion powder, and smoked paprika. Drizzle one tablespoon olive oil on chicken breasts, then sprinkle a small spice mix on both sides. Set aside the rest of the spice mix.
Place chicken breasts on a baking sheet—Bake for 20 to 25 minutes until chicken is at 165 degrees. Use two forks to shred the chicken. Set aside.
Heat 1 tablespoon olive oil in a pot over medium-high heat. Add onions, red pepper, green pepper, and minced garlic. Stir and begin cooking, then add the rest of the spice mix. Stir to combine, then add shredded chicken and stir.
Pour in Rotel, chicken stock, tomato paste, water, and black beans. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to a simmer. Simmer for 45 minutes, uncovered.
Mix cornmeal with a small amount of water. Pour into the soup, then simmer for an additional 30 minutes. Taste and check seasonings, add more if needed, and ensure not to undersalt. Turn off heat and allow to sit for 15 to 20 minutes before serving.
In a small frying pan, heat the oil on medium heat. When the oil is hot, add a few tortilla strips, turning them with tongs and frying them until crispy. They will cook quickly, be careful not to burn them. Adjust heat as necessary. Drain crispy tortilla strips on a paper towel and set aside. Finish frying the rest of the strips adding more oil if necessary. Let the oil get hot each time you make an addition before adding the tortilla strips.
Ladle into bowls and top with tortilla strips. Serve with sour cream, red onion, avocado, pico de gallo, lime wedges, chopped cilantro, sliced green onions, and grated cheese. Let each diner choose how they wish to top their soup. The garnishes make the soup delicious and add a ton of texture and flavor.
My sister Jennifer came to visit this weekend. She met us at the Troy Farmers Market and had a great time strolling through the market and shops. She made some purchases and was happy she could support the farmers and small business owners.
She got to see us in action at the spätzle booth giving out the spätzle spiel to people who didn’t know what we were selling. I think she could have given the spiel herself by the end of the day.
We made some grilled pizzas with a watermelon feta salad on Saturday night and ate outdoors on our back deck. The weather was perfect; we couldn’t have asked for a nicer evening for Alfresco dining.
Marty didn’t think we had enough seating, so he sold our 4 seat-high-top outdoor set on Facebook Marketplace a few weeks ago and purchased 6 “used” brand new Telescope chairs.
He found a table that went well with the chairs and we picked up an umbrella at The Christmas Tree Shoppes when we were in Albany a couple of weeks ago. He had to redo our party lights from a zig-zag pattern to square to make way for the umbrella.
Our deck with the “new” outdoor dining furniture still doesn’t feel like we are on our deck. We typically wouldn’t have chosen bright blue and white, but we like how fresh and clean it looks.
I kid about when the server will come around and either bring me another drink or clear the table. That’s how much it doesn’t feel like our space yet. We love it and are glad we went outside our comfort zone.
We had coffee on the front porch Sunday morning, and Jennifer said, “This is like a resort.” We laughed and agreed how lucky we were to have a lovely front porch in a beautiful vacation destination.
We prepped our dinner and headed out to the pool. We set ourselves up on the pool deck and sat there until it was too hot and needed to cool off.
Our small pool deck is just big enough for two chairs.
We floated around for an hour or more on our pool noodles and chatted. The water was 85 degrees and lovely. Besides reapplying sunscreen, we did nothing but relax.
This felt wonderful for me since we have been working so much lately. It was a vacation for Jen since her kids were away down the Jersey shore with her ex. She has a busy schedule and rarely gets time just for herself.
We went back and forth from the deck to the water, and Jennifer said, “This really is like a resort.” I had to agree with her looking through her eyes and realizing the same thing myself.
After almost 4 hours, we moved up to the back deck and sat under the umbrella, trying to hydrate ourselves with water. This was when Jennifer said, looking at the mountains in the background, “It feels like a hotel.” Not being used to the furniture, I said it did.
Marty and Sam were out for the day, so we had the “resort” to ourselves. When the guys came home, we made homemade corn tortillas on the flattop grill and grilled some shrimp on the bbq in the outdoor kitchen—some toppings for the tacos and a Mexican street corn salad made for a delicious summer meal.
After dinner, I was the one who said, “When is that server going to come by and clear the table and bring me another glass of white wine?”
After dinner, we went to our next-door neighbors, Arthur & David’s house, for a small get-together. They are always so considerate with their dessert, cheese, and fruit buffets.
There were two delicious cakes from a local confectionery shop in Manchester, an assortment of cheeses, and GF crackers. This makes us feel like we are regular guests. I don’t think they know how special this is to us.
Jen packed up early this morning and was on the road by 6 am. She hit zero traffic going back to NJ. She made a mistake last year leaving later; the 3-hour ride took 5. Ugh! What a way to kill a relaxing weekend for sure. She was home by 8:50 am!
This is where I wrote this blog post this morning.
Today, Marty and I are taking a holiday off and will spend the day at the tiny resort. Simple grilled chicken with a bruschetta topping will be an easy breezy dinner. We are joining the neighbors for a campfire tonight and looking at the sky for nearby fireworks. 🎆
Marty is on-call with the rescue squad tonight, and Sam is working the overnight shift in the ER; hopefully, they won’t have too many patients with their thumbs blown off! It happens. Yikes!
Happy Fourth of July!🇺🇸
***Before I finished writing this, Marty had a chainsaw and started cutting down tree branches. That man just doesn’t know how to relax!
It’s the damndest thing. Since I turned 50 6 years ago, or even a couple of years before that, I put limits on myself without really knowing it. When I thought of myself and how I looked I was fighting a battle that I wasn’t going to win.
It’s taken me well over a year on this self-acceptance journey, and I finally woke up and realized I was practically there. It’s harder than I expected to grow old gracefully. Hard af to be honest.
I blamed wearing black all the time on trying to hide my new size and body. I tried wearing color and realized that wasn’t it. I refused to wear shorts or feel comfortable going out bare-faced. I hated looking in the mirror because all I saw were wrinkles and a post-menopausal body.
I was depressed because I realized none of the miracle creams were going to help my crepey neck or the skin above my knees. This was the real reason I discovered why I wouldn’t wear shorts anymore.
Finally, without warning, my brain said, “enough of this ridiculous bullshit.” I finally accepted the inevitable; I was getting older after years of fighting it. I’ve written about how getting old is a privilege, but now I believe it.
I am wearing shorts again, including cut-off denim shorts. I bought ones already cut off with holes in them. They still look like they did on me when I was younger; however, they are slightly longer and more appropriate. They are not cut up to the crack of my ass like Daisy Duke’s shorts.
I am back to wearing playful t-shirts and bikinis. This, my friends, is a big thing for me. I don’t need to hide behind tankinis anymore; that made me feel disgusting anyway.
Our trip to Vegas last year was eye-opening in so many ways. I saw many women older, bigger, and wrinkled than me rocking their shit and owning it. Saying fuck it. They weren’t wearing teeny bopper clothing but cute, sexy, stylish, trendy clothing and bathing suits.
This spring, I had the urge to go shopping for shorts. This fall, I went black to wearing black not to hide my body, but because I like it. It is not a shroud of shame; it’s that I like black and gray, damn it. I still add a pop of color here and there when I feel like it.
What does all this mean? It means I feel younger again, not on the outside but within. I sometimes feel beautiful, cute, and sexy, and I don’t hate everything I see in the mirror or in photos.
They say age is only a number or to be young at heart. I had always believed those sayings but lost sight of them when my body changed. I am a confident person but lost a big piece of me. I no longer feel betrayed, ashamed, or disgusted by my body.
When I looked in the mirror this morning before heading out to make a delivery in East Greenbush, NY, I saw my old self and liked what I saw.
You know what? I can and will rock that shit like those women I saw in Vegas. I wish I wouldn’t have waited so long.
Happy Friday! Have a great Fourth of July weekend. My sister Jen is coming to visit on Saturday for the weekend. It will be fun, and the weather looks excellent on Sunday, our first day off in a few weeks.
On Sunday, our long production day went easy. Yesterday’s production day felt like an eternity that would never end.
I made boxes we needed to fill some of our orders; they towered over me. Ok, I am only 5’1” but you get the drift.
Making spätzle isn’t something I have ever gotten tired of doing. That’s the fun part of production. I love it! The dishes? They suck.
The dishes take me over 2 1/2 hours to do. Marty suggested he clean the big tilting kettle while I finish up the dishes. It was worth a try.
With Marty helping with the clean up as opposed to start weighing and packaging spätzle himself; this saves me 30 minutes and we both get to start packaging the product together. This is working and I am happy. Yay!
Once we started packaging the spätzle I kept look over at the towers of boxes. It became daunting. Then, whenever I looked over at the big bin of spätzle he was working on, it always looked full. It was like a bottomless bin; and there were 9 of them.
It took hours to finish but when we were done, we were pleased with our days work and closer to filling all of our wholesale orders.
Today, we finished up all the orders even though we cut production short since we have deliveries to make this afternoon and a show tonight. We kicked ass this week to get it done!
Now, I know some people who are reading this and are probably thinking, “Wow! They must be raking in the dough!” Unfortunately, trust me, this isn’t true.
We learned very quickly that farmers, cheese makers and food manufacturers make the least amount of money. You see, the distributor needs to take their cut then the retail stores need to take theirs.
The first two ingredients in our spätzle are local milk & eggs. We feel strongly about using local ingredients and supporting the farmers near us. The eggs have tripled in price and the milk has almost doubled.
The flours we use are all non-gmo and cost more; again we feel we need to use the best ingredients for our product. The packaging supplies like our retail packages, bags and cardboard boxes have tripled as well.
I don’t have to tell you about the cost of gas when we travel to make deliveries, we are all suffering greatly from this right now. Our distributor had to raise their price to help cover the fuel for their delivery trucks.
We are hanging on and slowly but surely we are continuing to establish our brand and growing the business.
We are very blessed and grateful how far we have come in 5 short years. We couldn’t do it without our customers who are spreading the spätzle love.❤️
We are completely caught up for the moment which feels pretty good! Tomorrow and Friday we will focus on making spätzle for the farmers market on Saturday.
Now, I am going to try to take a power nap before getting dressed up, help get the delivery boxes loaded up, and on our way to a fun afternoon & evening in Schenectady.
On the road again…
I’ll let you know how the show was and if we were successful finding a good gluten-free dinner out. Fingers crossed!
Waiting for the coffee to brew, then it’s off to work!
Yesterday when the Alexa alarm went off at 4:25 am, he told us, “The early bird catches the worm.” We have a male Alexa voice because he sounds friendly and not bitchy all the time like the female one.
Yes, the early bird catches the worm proved true again today, hitting the production kitchen very early while it was still cool out. By the time we were finished with production, it was hot and steamy in the kitchen.
We must make a lot of spätzle today, tomorrow and Tuesday to fill the large orders we received last week. No day of rest for us this week, but that’s ok; we are grateful for the business. After today’s production, we are in a good place and now know we will get it all made on time. That’s a massive relief for both of us.
So, it’s going to be a busy but fun week. Tuesday, we have deliveries to make in Saratoga and Niskayuna, NY, which is very close to Schenectady. It just worked out perfectly that we are going to Proctor’s Theater in Schenectady on Tuesday night to see the show, Mean Girls, so we won’t have to make a separate trip.
We have been looking forward to seeing Mean Girls for a while and know the music well from the weekly broadway music we play in the production kitchen on Fridays. After making our deliveries, we can grab a bite to eat and then hit the show.
For the rest of the day, we will keep cool and relax. We have a couple of steaks to throw on the grill with a baked potato and salad for an easy uncomplicated dinner.
I hope you guys had a good weekend, enjoy the rest of your Sunday! 😎
I’m still here! I haven’t written in days; it’s not that I haven’t wanted to, I haven’t had anything noteworthy to write about.
VT Spätzle has been busy, in fact we are already behind for next week! This is a great thing but a little overwhelming at times. Our small business consists of Marty and me and that is how we want to keep it for the time being.
All week I’ve been completely stressed out until Marty pointed out two things yesterday that made me start to think of things a little differently or try to anyway.
We would be more stressed out if we didn’t have orders coming in. ✔️
I can’t worry about the things I have no control over such as the current state of affairs and high prices. ✔️
While I try to give all my worries over one by one to God at night, these worries are deep in my subconscious. They are so deep I have been woken from a deep sleep twice this week with terrible anxiety attacks. What the fuck?
On the outside I don’t appear to be stressed out, but this is how depression and anxiety usually works. It’s true that some of the most happy and funny people are the ones suffering from depression and anxiety. Take Robin Williams for example.
Last night at dance class, I had fun without any worries or stress. I really needed to dance; when I do all of my thoughts outside of the dance studio fade away. Dance really is my therapy.
This was from last June when we had a photo shoot.
When I am dancing or teaching I am in the moment. I am not thinking about what I need to do, or things I’ve already done. I am in that one moment of time with music and the women I love to dance with.
Any of our dancers will tell you just how therapeutic dance is. We have all had a bad, rough, tiring, or just a bla day and didn’t feel like going to class. Since we are dedicated we show up anyway and always leave with a smile on our face.
Today, we are out of the production kitchen making deliveries in Saratoga & Albany. We really don’t have a production day to waste, but the orders need to be delivered.
While we are in Albany, we also have errands to run, scheduled an oil change, and supplies to pick up. Every trip counts just like every penny.
So as you can see, there is nothing exciting to mention or no fabulous food to share. I wanted to check in anyway and say hello so you don’t forget about me. 🙂
*** I used my phone when I wrote this on the road coming back from Albany so forgive the mistakes; its hard to post this way, but it’s the only time I will have tonight.
History was my favorite subject in school, and I still love it today. We live in historical Arlington, VT, a small town with some famous residents such as Ethan Allen one of the Green Mountain Boys.
Some others include Seth Warner, Samuel Adams, Remember Baker, Thomas Chittenden, Dorothy Canfield Fisher, Norman Rockwell, and the newest famous resident Alec Baldwin.
I wrote about the history of Arlington, VT last year in a blog post titled “Puddle jumping through history.” You can read the blog post by clicking on the title if you are interested.
Last May the city of Troy, NY, where we are vendors at the Troy Farmers Market, HBO turned Troy into New York City in the 1880s. HBO was filming a new series called The Gilded Age. The transformation was incredible down to the most minor details.
I wrote about the transformation in a blog post titled “Hollywood on the Hudson.” The day I walked around the streets turned movie sets I was utterly alone except for one other person snapping photos and taking it all in like I was. It was very cool. You can read the blog post by clicking on the title.
Our vendor spot at the Troy Farmers Market is located on lower River Street. I knew there was a plaque on the building directly behind us; today I went over and read it.
It was where the poem ‘Twas the night before Christmas was first published. I love shit like this and grabbed my phone to take a picture.
I did some research on Dr. Clement C. Moore the author. The writer’s cousin sent the famous poem to The Troy Sentinel Newspaper anonymously. Dr. Moore wrote the poem in 1822, but it was published on December 23,1823.
The inspiration he got for the poem was while he was walking through the streets of NYC looking for gifts and a Christmas goose for charity. He saw a chubby round gentleman with both white hair and a beard. This is who prompted the poem.
This poem led to the story of the modern-day Santa Claus we know today. Rudolph came along later. LOL. Geez, that’s two Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer references this week from me!
Dr. Moore wrote the poem at Christmas time for his six children and had no idea it would be published, let alone become iconic. I am sure he didn’t imagine when writing the poem that would create the legend of Santa Claus.
After the poem was published, at first, Dr. Moore was embarrassed by the childish poem and felt it wasn’t something to be proud of since he was known as a highly educated man. He didn’t want people to know it was he who penned it.
However, after the publication, Dr. Clement Moore took credit for the famous poem when he saw people’s reactions and a new love for old St. Nick. The rest is history.
Troy, NY is a city rich in history, it is known as the home of Uncle Sam. A welcome sign tells you so as you drive along route 7 headed towards Vermont. It’s been there for the 33 years I’ve lived in VT.
Samuel Wilson was always cleanly shaven even though his well-known image as Uncle Sam has a beard.
I did some more research and looked up the history of Uncle Sam. Uncle Sam was a real person named Samuel Wilson who is buried at the Oakwood Cemetery in Troy. Here is a link about Uncle Sam if you want to know more about him. He was a remarkable man who eventually became the face of America.
So, on this severely windy and cold day at the farmers market which is located along the Hudson River, I became curious about the history of the building standing 20 feet behind us. It was an unexpected history lesson that I loved learning about.
I found out from the Poetry Foundation the poem was originally titled “A visit from St. Nicholas.” I never gave the poem a thought about where it came from, and now I know. “Hey, and if you don’t know now, you know.” A quote from Hamilton.
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse; The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there; The children were nestled all snug in their beds; While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads; And mamma in her’ kerchief, and I in my cap, Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap, When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash, Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash. The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow, Gave a lustre of midday to objects below, When what to my wondering eyes did appear, But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer, With a little old driver so lively and quick, I knew in a moment he must be St. Nick. More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name: “Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now Prancer and Vixen! On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donner and Blitzen! To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall! Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!” As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky; So up to the housetop the coursers they flew With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too— And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof The prancing and pawing of each little hoof. As I drew in my head, and was turning around, Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound. He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot, And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot; A bundle of toys he had flung on his back, And he looked like a pedler just opening his pack. His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry! His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry! His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow; The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath; He had a broad face and a little round belly That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly. He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf, And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself; A wink of his eye and a twist of his head Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread; He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk, And laying his finger aside of his nose, And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose; He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, And away they all flew like the down of a thistle. But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight— “Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”