Canning Fresh Vegetables by a Kid Who'd Rather Eat a Hot Dog

     Canning vegetables was an annual ritual for my wife Deb and me every fall buying boxes of tomatoes, corn and other vegetables at a good price.  And doing the work yourself gave you the satisfaction that on a cold winter day, cracking open one of the mason jars would give you a taste of all the fresh vegetables from summer. We haven't canned for a dozen years.
     For me eating fresh vegetables as a kid was an acquired taste. I grew up an army brat and everything came in a can from the Army post commissary. My mom made her own soups and was a great cook baking fresh pies weekly, but for some reason we ate vegetables out of a can. Annually we grew a couple of stringy tomato plants in the back yard but I got accustomed to the bland taste of store bought canned goods. And besides like most kids, I would have rather just eaten another hot dog than vegetables.
     When I met Deb, her late father was a gardener or should I say more like a farmer. He had a huge garden behind their Stowe home and was constantly pulling weeds or turning the soil planting and replanting. And at harvest time I was on hand at dinner to try the fresh veggies.
     I can eat a majority of anything fresh out of a garden but, I still can't eat fresh green beans. I look at Deb, smile and say these taste way to green! Funny, but the taste is still to strong to like. I can eat green beans pickled in a jar or cooked in with a ham and cabbage but I won't eat them unless they are boiled to death. The only vegetables I ate when I was a youngster was corn, waxed beans, apple sauce (yes I considered that a vegetable) and potatoes.

Deb working in her kitchen.

     With Deb's family, I was introduced to everything home grown from carrots, radishes, beans, cauliflower and broccoli, cabbage and tomatoes of all varieties. Peppers from mild to the set your tongue on fire types. Cucumbers, lettuce, squash, rhubarb, peas (no I won't eat these either) and kohlrabi. I looked at that green little thing and said to myself what the hell is a kohlrabi. I found out its a bit like a turnip. I never, ever in my life ate a turnip especially one called a kohlrabi. But when my father in law started mixing in all those leftover vegetables at the end of the season to make chicken soup on a cold fall day, I munched down those kohlrabi's along with all the other stuff. He made the best soup, just ask my daughters who still talk about how they miss not having a big bowl this time of the year.
     Deb's brother Joe also has a garden and cans some of the best vegetable concoctions I've ever tried. We were over recently and he had us try some home canned spicy hot asparagus and the taste was amazing. If I don't like something I'm not eating it to be polite. I could have eaten an entire jar and I'm not a big fresh asparagus eater. That ranks up their with the green beans. But pickled in a brine and adding in a couple of hot peppers gives it a flavor I go for. We ended up leaving with jars of some of his latest canned goods.
     And that got us thinking why not put up some jars for the coming winter. Yes it's easier to buy food at the grocery store, no mess, no time involved.  But being a vegetable convert, I have seen the light of eating home grown veggies, we decided to dust off the Victorio strainer, washed and sterilized our boxes of old mason jars and got to work.
     The first two projects were to make tomato sauce and the other was to make a salsa. I drove to several local farm stores and road side vegetable stands and bought a couple of big boxes of Roma variety tomatoes along with a bunch of onions, peppers and other vegetables requested by my wife.
     We skinned the tomatoes cut up the vegetables in large pieces. From here Deb took over to make her salsa. She has a processor that pulses them into small little pieces in seconds. It seemed to take a lot longer when we cut everything up by hand years ago. What a time and labor saver. From there we ladled the contents into a pint jars, sealed them up and boiled the jars in a hot water bath to kill off any remaining bacteria.  It was a lot of work to get fifteen pint jars of salsa. We chilled one down and tried it later that night, and I'm not exaggerating, it was the best salsa I ever had. Our kids agree as we are down to less than ten jars left and we haven't had a frost yet.  A second batch is schedule though I'm not sure we will be able to duplicate the taste. It had to be beginners luck.
     Next, we washed and cut up the remaining tomatoes in quarters and I ran them through the strainer to separate the juice and pulp from the skin and seeds. This hand operated little marvel doesn't miss a drop which is then mixed with spices and boiled down.
 
 I bought 75 ears of corn at another stand so that Deb could make a picked corn relish.  First we husk the ears, then blanch them. After the ears cools for a minute I take a sharp knife and cut the kernels from the cob.  By the time I get finished two large bowls are filled with corn. Deb mixes in her spices, vinegar and other secret herbs from her recipe and we again fill several dozen jars.  We will have enough to last a year. What was left over we froze and will be able to use over the winter. This was pretty cost effective and it was definitely cheaper to make than to buy in the store.
     We are looking to buy a bunch of vegetables for the next canning. Deb wants to make chow chow. I call this the hodge podge of home canned goods. Whatever is left after the smoke clears in the kitchen and wasn't used is stuffed together in a jar. So we will be hunting down the last of the fresh vegetables at the end of a good season.     But, I will tell you this, there won't be any kohlrabi added. I'm drawing the vegetable eating line.
   
   

Back to the Wooden Bat Game of Baseball

     There is a distinct crack from a wooden baseball bat when the ball is smacked on the sweet spot. And when you don't make good contact you hear a splat and the ball doesn't travel very far.  When using a metal bat and hit it good you'll hear a ping, and when you don't you still hear a ping.
      Baseball is going back to the days of the wooden bat after years of kids swinging the metal. The metal bats give a routine hit more distance and the possibilities of of a ball rolling to the fence. With wood, outfielders can challenge the hitters by playing in closer to the infield.
     There are arguments for both sides, some say using metal makes for a more offensive and action packed game. Others like the fact that teams can play small ball with wood, bunt and hit and run manufacturing runs instead of just hoping someone will hit a pop that will carry out of the park.
     I'm all for the return to wooden bat game. Kids will get more accustomed to it with time. Instead of one base at a time mentality, coaches take more chances and I feel that the games are just as exciting.
     And what's wrong with leveling the playing field and having a good old fashioned pitchers duel. Bats will splinter and break and that can be a danger but it's also a problem with balls whizzing by the mound clanging off the metal ones.

     I feel Pennsylvania is on the right track and school districts still using metal bats need to get on board. They can argue it's costly to keep replacing broken wooden bats and school budgets are already tight. But, when's the last time a kid arrived at a game without carrying his own bat bag. So that argument is a bit weak.
     Even when I played decades ago, I had my own bat that I used in all of my games. If I broke it, then I'd use one the team supplied until I got back to Bechtel's Sports for new one.
     There was a couple things a baby boomer kid had on a bike when he pedaled off for the day's adventures. One was a baseball glove looped over the handlebars, also a baseball jammed into the bike frame. If you had a pickup game planned with the many other kids running around the neighborhood you brought
your wooden bat and held it across the bars as you steered.
     I'm still waiting to see a homer off of a wooden bat this summer and with several state tournaments coming up I'm sure someone will hit one out of the park. Abner would be happy to see the game returning to it's roots.

Travel - Touring Connecticut and Sneaking into Vermont

     After finishing up my Saturday work shift, my wife Deb and I headed to Guilford, Connecticut for a week of day trips and sightseeing with longtime friends Anne and Ted who had a loose itinerary set up for daily adventures.

A view of the architecture at Yale University

     It's a four-hour plus ride on Route 78 through the Lehigh Valley onto Route 95 and over the George Washington Bridge in New York. Heading to Connecticut it was white knuckle driving and quick lane changes to stay on course. I sneak a quick peak at the horizon of the Manhattan skyscrapers while keeping one eye on the snaking traffic.
     Crossing the state line into Connecticut, Deb dials up Anne and we meet at Wilson's Holy Smoke Barbecue, a joint my wife picked out after watching her favorite food shows. We keep a list of restaurants and diners to visit on upcoming trips and this was a nice start munching on a pork barbecue sandwich with collards, baked beans and cornbread.  Deb had the perfect words after dining stating, "The food was yummy!" After dinner it was a short thirty minute ride to their home which is near the Long Island Sound.

Pepe's Pizza

     On Sunday afternoon we stopped at Chamard Winery and shared a bottle of Chardonnay. Later we made our way to New Haven for a walk on the grounds of Yale University and snapped some shots of their historic buildings. I've grown to appreciate the value of taking the time to look at architecture and famous places during our travels.
      Dining in spots also takes on a new meaning looking for family run businesses with a unique style so we dropped in at The Original Pepe's Pizza in the town's Italian district. The pizzeria was opened in 1928 and still serves up delicious pies from their coal fired brick oven. We waited in line outside the popular pizzeria along with other hungry guests before a booth opened up. It was worth the wait.
   The following day we went sailing on the Long Island Sound with Ted's neighbor. This was new to me as I've only been on the sea in power boats and cruise ships. I was put to work by Captain Fred and he had me hoist the main sail and jib and tie them off.

Captain Fred and 1st mate Ted prepare to sail

He also gave me a turn manning the tiller and it took a while to keep the boat on the correct heading and the sails filled with air. We sailed out on the sound 3.5 miles and circled Faulker Island lighthouse and back to the docks. The two men know the water and are able and knowledgable sailors. They sat relaxed giving me instructions as I took control of the boat. The winds were light so this landlubber wasn't concerned about tipping the boat and dunking us into the water but it does take some time to get a feel for controlling the boat.
    We were up early the next morning and drove to Hartford with our main stop at the home of Samuel Clemens, better known as Mark Twain. I enjoy reading his novels and got a kick out of touring the family home and seeing his upstairs area where he wrote at his desk, smoked cigars, took a nip of the spirits and shot pool with friends. We stopped at the book store inside the welcome center

The Mark Twain house

which is on the grounds and is larger than the home. Deb and I bought a book and I am saving mine for reading on cold winters nights later this year. The center has some of his catchy phrases cast in the cement walls.  There is a short movie of his life and some of his memorabilia displayed in the building.        

Deb's in the fast lane on the alpine slide in Vermont 

     From there we headed north. I took the wheel and drove through Massachusetts for a hour until we crossed the border into Vermont.  The state was the destination as we really didn't have a plan in
mind. The previous day while talking I stated, that while Deb and I have been to every state in the east from Maine to Florida, we never set foot in Vermont. To date,  I have been to thirty four states in the union. But whenever I would look at a map of the United States, I'd stare at Vermont, nagged that I hadn't made it there.

     I would have been content to stop the car, stick my toe on
the ground and drive back, but we decided to head to Bromley Ski Resort that had zip lining, an alpine slide and other summertime activities. The clouds were forming and a

View of Long Island Sound 

thunderstorm was nearby. The owner told us to head up the mountain on the chairlift and kindly offered for us to pay when we got back so we could at least get one run on the zip line. But when we got to the top workers told us we'd have to do the alpine slide with the fast approaching storm.

Gillette Castle

     Deb and I had ridden on the alpine slide at Camelback Ski Resort until they dismantled the run years ago. The rider sits in a sled with nylon runners and speeds downhill on a concrete or fiberglass bobsled track. It's lots of fun and I've crashed a number of times racing Deb in the lane next to me. I'm a little older these day but still zipped down the lane at a swift pace but did pull back on the brake at times to keep from getting out of control. We could only make one run as heavy rain wiped out the rest of the afternoon. On the return trip we stopped at a country store and bought the obligatory bottle of maple syrup, cookies and other snacks. Another state checked off of my list.
     The rest of the week we rode around Connecticut and toured a number of locations including Gillette Castle, the home of Broadway stage actor and writer William

Drawbridge opening in Mystic, Connecticut

Gillette. His castle sits on a hillside with a breathtaking view of the Connecticut River. Gillette was famous for his portrayal of Sherlock Holmes with the play opening in 1899. We took the time to read a number of Gillette's personal letters that are set under glass for visitors to see and we also looked over the unique interior decorations of the home.
      A side trip to Mystic, Conn. had us walking around the nostalgic town. Large sailboats passed by the open drawbridge on the Mystic River at the main street in town.  For lunch we chose Mystic Pizza, the restaurant where the Hollywood movie "Mystic Pizza" starring Julia Roberts was filmed.
      It was a fun-filled week and we boarded the Sea Mist for a boat tour of the Thimble Islands. The captain navigated the waterway where multimillion dollar homes are neatly built onto the small islands dotting the cove.
     We put in close to six hundred miles that week driving over some of the lesser traveled forest covered mountain roads and also along speedy interstates.  I prefer the two lane roads where I can turn my head on occasion to view the scenery without my co-pilot Deb offering her driving instructions to me about watching the road. I can't wait for the next time we hit the trail for another countrywide adventure.

Fly Fishing - I've Never Had A Hobby Until Now

     Yes sports fans, I recently took up the art of fly fishing.
The first thing I learned is that there is a lot to learn. And I am waist deep getting accustomed to the technique of casting and retrieving line, talking the jargon and figuring out what the heck is needed to be tied onto the end of a tip it ( new term for me ) to catch a fish.

Strick's Pix tries his luck.

     The main reason for the new hobby is an idea for my brother Gary and I to travel to West Yellowstone for an outdoors adventure together. We've never done anything like this and while I'm in still able, the time seems right for some hiking, sightseeing and fishing. And out west it's mostly fly fishing in the streams and rivers. This gives me a reason to try something new and I don't want to feel like a tourist when I get into the water.
     I am no purist and the journey will be long. Friends and family who fly fish give me ample opportunities to pick their brains as I launch question after question in their direction. I'm also watching videos, reading blogs and stories and books about line tying and what type of bug, nymph, wet fly, streamer or dry fly may help in the effort for a successful day on the creek. And it will take practice. Lots of practice.
     I've bought a number of flies with the recommendation of knowledgable sportsmen at several fly fishing businesses. Also bought a four piece rod and reel set prefect to start.
     Any day out will be a great day regardless of whether or not I've figured out what fish are biting on. So far the best I can say is that I'm a work in progress. One thing I need work on is tying a fly to the line.  I have hands of stone, the dexterity is lacking and it takes a while to get a proper knot tied with these shaky mitts. The improved clinch knot is fairly easy, but learning the surgeons, albright and nail knots will take practice.
     When winter rolls around and I'm not in the stream as much, I will sit down and perfect these knots. I'm too anxious now with the nice weather not to run down to the stream and drift a line in the water.

Small mouth

      I've been out to the creek a number of times and casting as close to a spot that I pick out. Sometimes good other times ugly, but for the most part I am getting the line where I want. I haven't ventured into any trout stocked waters yet, preferring to start in areas where with open spaces so not to snag brush losing those two dollar lures with a single bad flip of the line. Even so some have ended up snapped off out of my reach. A sad trophy for nature dangling from a tree branch.
    I have had success getting a feel for stripping in line and enticing fish to bite and take the fly. I've caught a number of small mouth and rock bass in Manatawny Creek in an area in West Pottsgrove Township. A bunch of blue gills some nice size others small but none the less, I am catching fish.
     In one hole while nymphing I managed to catch eight rock bass knowing I must be doing something right. I wasn't only drifting line downstream and waiting for fish to bite but worked the fly to have a fish bite. I missed a number of times failing to set a hook or watched one jump out of the water and spit the hook but that's okay I'm tossing everything back. That way, there will be smarter fish waiting for me to try again.
   I'm off to a fly fishing trout area in the French Creek with brother Gary for the first time together. He has been working the streams too, looking for areas where we novices can start out. Wish me luck!

Pottstown Rumble 2013 - Misty May-Treanor Will Be Here

     It's official!  Three time Olympic gold medalist Misty May-Treanor will be in Pottstown for the annual volleyball rumble June 21-23. The Pottstown Rumble is one of the nations largest grass volleyball tournaments and is played on the Memorial Park fields. With May-Treanor attending it will give the event even more star power. Thousands from around the United States and some from other countries make Pottstown their home for the weekend.
     And I can say that I have been a part of it playing in the tournament with different partners over the years.  Volleyball was my sport and an outlet for me for over 25 years but time moves on and playing competitively has to come to an end.
     Early on I played in three different leagues per week and couldn't get enough. I wasn't playing two man beach style volleyball at the time. But twice a week I played against some very good athletes. Guys that could set and others that could drill the ball with a powerful spike.
     And that what I liked to do. Take the days frustration out on that white ball and smash the snot out of it when someone set you up with a perfect ball. Bang! And I'd get a big smile on my face. Other times I'd get roofed and the ball blocked back into my face. But that was part of the fun.
     On the third night I ran a co-ed team in the Norco league with wife Deb, other family members and friends. This was a good league but not nearly as intense but a fine way to enjoy the game with family.
     Then twenty-two years ago Ken Kaas a true volleyball lifer started the Volleyball Rumble with a bunch of friends. From the start the tournament was a big hit. I played a number of years with Ken on the six man teams, some years on the same squad other times across the net from him.
     I don't remember if I played in the very first Rumble, but got to play a number of times.  Some years I had a justified conflict as our daughter Kelli's birthday is on June 22nd. She is a married adult with kids these days and not as concerned that Deb and I don't spend the entire day with her. But back then I'd get the question, "You aren't going to play volleyball and miss my birthday are you dad?" Of course my answer was that the day was hers to do what she wanted and we would be with her. I'd sneak down early to watch a little bit but family came first.
     Other years I'd work for The Mercury and photograph the event.  I think this was harder knowing I had no family commitments and still I couldn't get on the court.  But on the years I signed up to play, I couldn't wait for the weekend to get here. Sometimes I wondered why I played. The weather would get hot into the 90s and as I got older the guys around me got younger and the court seemed to get bigger. That couldn't have been due to the fact that I was over forty. Nah! And come Monday morning I'd be scratched up from diving trying to dig balls before they'd touch the grass. My knees ached and right shoulder would be sore as I hobbled into work. But it never stopped me. I loved volleyball.
     Some years we'd get beaten badly by teams. Other years we'd go far in our tourney bracket and into the final rounds. When teamed up with my brother Gary one year, I was dragging with high temps and the sun beating down on me.  If we won our last game against our bracket opponent we'd make it into the medal round. Sweating, I told him let's just lose this and go home, but that didn't happen and we continued to play. You give it what you got and I couldn't quit no matter how I was feeling.
    The Rumble grew and grew. Kaas is like a carnival barker, but humble. He always has a new idea up his sleeve to push at the event. Early on he held a swim suit contest. One year he brought out a motorcycle stuntman to jump across the Manatawny Creek to keep drawing interest. On opening morning at the start he sends up booming fireworks to let people know what's going on. Last year they had Gary Fry owner of the Craft Ale House and also an avid volleyball player serving up the local Sly Fox Beers inside the beer tent.  And now one of the highlights for the never tiring showman will be to have an Olympic gold medalist as part of the festivities.
     But Kaas is the first one to say that he couldn't keep the tournament running without his family and close knit friends. They start setting up piles of nets and fencing during the middle of the week. Once the suns sets they don't just sit down in a chair with a cold drink. You'll see them bumping, setting and spiking getting together for pickup games on a nice evening.
     You can spot him wearing a red, white and blue rumble shirt,  running around the grounds with a walkie talkie in hand and biting down on the short stub of a stogie.
     I'm scheduled to shoot photos again this year and will look forward to seeing some of the old faces I know that keep playing the game and the younger ones that move around effortlessly from corner to corner heads better than I could have ever wanted to be.
     Let's count on some sunny skies and good weather. Keep it in the low 90s to have these guys and girls sweat a little to get that victory. Welcome to Pottstown Misty May-Treanor. You will be surprised to see how a small town can put on a big-time tournament.
    
     

Travel-The Grand Teton National Park and Jackson Hole, Wyoming

Mount Moran reflected in Jackson Lake

    Floating on the Snake River as part of a rafting trip with my wife Deb and looking up at the Grand Teton Mountains is spectacular. The two-hour float capped several days in Jackson Hole, Wyoming  and is a part of the country where I could spend months. The veteran guide navigated the swift moving current and we felt safe. He was in complete control rowing and offering bits of wisdom and watched for bald eagles for us as we floated. The eagles were gliding above the water searching for cutthroat trout to swoop down and snatch for a meal.

Strick's Pix and Deb on float trip

Bald Eagle along Snake River

     There was plenty of time to take snapshots and there wasn't any sections of white
water to contend with. As advertised it is a float trip. I'm not looking for a rip roaring ride just a calm, easy drift downstream. But it's not a river to take lightly and can be dangerous to novices with little river knowledge floating without a guide.
     I never tired of viewing the Teton range and would like to hike on more of the trails in the area. While in the Grand Teton National Park I shot photos of Mount Moran reflecting in Jackson Lake and snapped others at Jenny Lake.  I made a number of nice pictures but seeing the range up close is what keeps me going on these trips. The sky was constantly changing as clouds filled in over the craggy tops. A short time later the mountains are bathed in sunlight, set against an emerald sky.
     There were other things to do in town as we

Deb at Antler Arch

shot the required picture standing in the Jackson Hole town square beside one of the antler arches. We did some shopping and Deb found a moose charm for her bracelet. She looks for a charm from each trip we take as a memento of our travels. Then we sauntered over to the Million Dollar Saloon straddling a saddle seat bar stool for a couple beverages. It's all part of the experience.

Dinner at Bar J Chuckwagon

     That evening we had dinner at Bar J Chuckwagon. You are given a tin cup and can wet your whistle with lemonade, water and ice tea which come with your meal. With a seating capacity of 750,  the bell rings and hungry wranglers line up holding onto a tin plate as workers ladle out a variety of dinner choices along with a baked potato, baked beans and other trimmings. I had the beef bar-b-q and Deb had a rib eye steak. The ranch hands get all the diners through the line in less than 25 minutes.  The meal was very
tasty and brought a smile to Deb's face enjoying the experience.

View of The Grand Tetons

     After dinner the Bar J Wranglers entertain the crowd with western musical numbers mixing in comedy and foot stomping fun for the crowd.
It's definitely part of the trip itinerary each time I'd travel to Jackson Hole.
 And on that note there is talk with my brother Gary about a trip out to the Grand Tetons for some trout fishing in the fine streams and rivers in Wyoming and some hiking in the back country. So I'm on a mission to learn how to fly fish so I'm not such a tin horn when I get to the stream. I'll see if I can master the art form before heading West again.

Speeding in a Work Zone

     Last week troopers from Pa. State Police and Lower Pottsgrove Township officers worked together on a traffic detail for drivers to slow down on Route 422 in a work zone in Lower Pottsgrove Township.
     Motorists continue to ignore the 40 mph designation in the area, many driving through the zone above the normal highway 55 mph. I was sent on assignment to the highway construction area to record photos for the website and The Mercury to get the word for drivers to follow the designated speed reduction or be ticketed by police.
     It didn't take long for a string of cars to get pulled over. After four hours 39 citations were written. Officers will continue to monitor the area and keep it safe.
     I don't profess to always stay under the speed limit and at times will look down at the speedometer and see I'm moving along, but as I get older I'm not hurrying down the highway as much. In a construction zone I try to stay as close to the limited speed limit as I can.
     The other day I was driving in the construction zone and tried to keep my car at 40. I was more worried about cars flying up on my back watching in the rear view mirror as drivers again were ignoring the speed limit. Many buzzed by like I was standing still.
     The only way I can see to get people serious to follow the rule is to constantly run a traffic stop so that motorists get the idea that its time to lower speeds not only for the driver snaking through the barriers but also for workers on the ground and in slow moving construction vehicles.
     If that doesn't slow them down keep writing the tickets. They can probably solve the national debt with all the money drivers will pay for their lack of concern in these areas.