Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Monday, May 23, 2011
The Mystery on Bushkill Hill
The William Castle-directed cheesefest "The House on Haunted Hill" (1959) stars Vincent Price (who was always better than the material he chose) and the decidedly creepy titular abode, the façade of which was actually the historic Frank Lloyd Wright-designed Ennis House in the Las Feliz section of Los Angeles.
Easton has a similar house on a hill, but to me, it’s more sad than scary, and as it turns out, it has a bit of history itself.
Mt Jefferson, which was originally known as Bushkill Hill is one of Easton’s 5 “mountains”, and is located at the top of North 5th Street behind the Easton Library. The name was changed as a tribute to Thomas Jefferson upon his election as President.
It’s also arguably one of Easton’s prime pieces of real estate. Although impeded somewhat by trees & foliage, it has views of Route 22, and most of Easton itself. Sitting in disrepair at the bottom of that piece of property is the subject of our mystery...which shall be continued in Part II
Friday, May 13, 2011
Fat, broke and under-employed...
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Mama's Things
Born and raised in North Carolina, my mother was a true Southern belle - a Sherman tank disguised as a powder puff. She could bake anything, sew anything (most all of my clothes until I was a teen-ager, and in one instance, a very memorable Little Bo Peep Halloween costume - from scratch), and make you quake with fear by just raising her right eyebrow.
She loved beautiful things, and when she died right after my 15th birthday, those "things" took on new significance. The really special things are in my home now, and they help make my house a home.
When I look at her wedding china, I remember her carefully setting the table at Christmas time. Because of her, I know which fork to use when, and how to fold napkins. I use her pink Depression glassware in the summer because it reminds me of the azaleas outside our house in Jacksonville, and the hand-painted china baby cup she made me occupies a place of honor on my mantel. I love to look at the delicate forget-me-nots and I smile to think she made that for me, and true to the flowers she painstakingly applied, I have forgotten her not..even after 35 years.
I will be 50 in June, and I've lived to be older than my mother did. But she lives on in my memories - and in Mama's things.
Happy Mothers' Day, Mama.
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