“I see in you someone who is destined for great things. You’ll find your way, if you’re true to yourself.”
         from: Brambleheart: A Story About Finding Treasure 
                        and the Unexpected Magic of Friendship
                            written and illustrated by Henry Cole
                                       Kathrine Tegen Books, 2016

      As I thought about this week’s post, I tried hard to think of something I consider myself to excel in or be outstanding at. Not grammar with that sentence!
      I was not very successful with my piano lessons, although I gained a great appreciation for the instrument and a real love of Chopin, especially his preludes, waltzes, and other dances, the simple ones and the complex. 
       Although I can usually spit back a phone number (2024: this was true until my phone remembered them for me) and I add and subtract my checkbook in my head (mostly), numbers are not really my thing.
       My daughters are both good cooks. I told my older daughter she must have a tongue in her brain that helps her think of ingredients that go well together. I don’t have that, but I can follow a recipe.
       Common sense is not my forte, either. I do a lot of forehead slapping, you know, when all of a sudden some logical, elusive answer becomes crystal clear. I have lots of ideas, though. 
       I am not a champion athlete. You might remember I taught myself to roller skate with belts and pillows. And that ice-skating fiasco. 
       This week, lots of eyes will be on Rio de Janeiro. (2024: Paris) Kids, really, are participating for their chances of a lifetime to excel, to perform, to compete.  Athletes, it’s said, love speed: objective, measurable, quantifiable times, distances, and weights. Thousands of practice hours culminate in one race, one jump, one lap, one journey to the end of one balance beam, one barbell lift. 
       Did you know that table tennis is an Olympic sport and (2024: Breakdancing)? Here’s https://olympics.com/en/sports of Summer Olympic sports for the Paris Games.
       According to olympics.com, “There is no specific age limit for taking part in the Olympic Games. This depends on each International Sports Federation and the rules it lays down for its sport.” In 2024, Zheng Haohao, a skateboarder from China is 11 years, 11 months, the youngest competitor, and sixty-nine-year-old Mary Janna, who is traveling from Australia to Paris as a standby in case of injury, is the oldest.
      The average age is about 27, so from my point of view they’re mostly kids. All go to the Games with metallic dreams and National Anthem whispers.
       But what about the ones who come in fourth or fifth or merely finish? No medal. No national anthem. No lucrative contract with Nike, UnderArmour, SpecialK.       
       Gym was always my worst subject. In seventh or eighth grade we were supposed to master lots of equipment. Lucky for me I had friends in the class. Friends who really made themselves useful by holding my hand on the balance beam, giving me a boost over the pummel horse and pushing me over the uneven parallel bars, more than once, to perform my “routine.” If you think it was a hoot, you’re right! Even I was laughing, making it even more impossible. My teacher was generous. She gave me a D because I showed up. I didn’t chicken out or complain. I finished.
       Maybe I’m a little bit of a champion after all. 
       Maybe all those athletes who come in fourth, fifth, or even just finish are champions, too.
       Maybe we all are. 

In Alice Hoffman’s The Invisible Hour (Atria/Simon & Schuster, 2023), she wove her magic around a mother’s love, the “otherness” of fatherless babes, and the tragedy of falling in love with the “wrong” person. The time travel was handled deftly, but her heavy-handed descriptions of the importance of books and reading left me feeling that this was not her best work.

The Last Cuentista by  Donna Barba Higuera (Levine Querido, 2021 Newbery Medal winner and the Pura Belpré Author Award winner) was recommended by my granddaughter. If a dystopian view of the world can shed a bit of hope, this book carries it off. 
      A few hundred scientists and their families are whisked off to a new planet when it’s discovered that Earth is in the direct path of a comet and will be destroyed. Petra, an almost 13-year-old who carries her grandmother’s stories with her, is the only one whose memories of Earth have not been destroyed.
                     --stay curious! (and move toward your goals)

Drip. Drop. Nonstop.
Come on, pup.
Hurry up!
                                                  from The Umbrella
                                             written by Beth Ferry 
                                     illustrated by Tom Lichtenheld
                    Clarion Books/HarperCollins Publishers, 2023

    I spent Sunday and yesterday distracted and processing the news (good, mostly) and stuck to the news (more than I wanted to be) and tending my garden (where I needed to be). 
    I’m still working on an idea for next week, but meanwhile:
      Thank you, President Biden, for all the good work you’ve done. 
      Thank you for your example of a generous spirit. 
      Thank you for putting aside your personal goals in favor of much
            bigger goals.
      Thank you for passing the torch to an up-and-coming generation.

    Even though the sun’s only just starting to peek out from around the storm clouds (which are still visible and very much with us) and the road ahead is still pretty puddly, when I came across this clip I thought it sums up where we are and where we are (I hope) headed.
Gene Kelly with the Muppets Singing in the Rain 

    This week I finished The Last Apple Tree by Claudia Mills (Holiday House, 2024). It’s a heartwarming story of friendship, family, and self-discovery.
    I started (and will finish this morning) Ferris by Kate DiCamillo (Candlewick, 2024). With a cast full of zany and quirky characters, Ms. DiCamillo proves that “every good story is a love story.”
    I also started The Invisible Hour by Alice Hoffman (Atria Books, 2023). Escaping to the Community, Ivy, a young, pregnant woman, looks for protection but finds herself instead trapped in a misogynistic and oppressive cult.
    As a young woman herself, Ivy's daughter must now abandon the Community to discover that “love is stronger than any chains that bind you.” More on this one next week.
                                      Be curious! (dance in the rain)

    Then, just before it was time to go, Joe felt a tug on his line. He jumped up.
    “I got a bite!” Joe yelled.
                .   .   .
    The fish pulled back hard. It felt big and strong.
    Finally, after one last tug, Joe reeled it in.
                                                         from Hooked
                                          written by Tom Greenwald
                                          illustrated by David McPhail
                                          Roaring Brook Press, 2018

    Until the end of June 2024, only three US states did not have a representative state fish. On June 26, at the very end of Ohio’s 135th General Assembly, though, sander vitreus, commonly known as the walleye, was adopted by Ohio’s State Representatives as our state fish. Most Representatives were in agreement. The measure passed 94-2.
    Even though lots of fish live in the lakes and rivers of Iowa and even more populate Indiana’s waterways, Indiana and Iowa are still fishless, symbolically speaking.
    The walleye joins the rest of our state symbols: cardinals, buckeyes, trilobites, “Hang on, Sloopy” and tomato juice. For all Ohio’s symbols tap here.  
    Walleyes are large, toothy predators. They can grow to 36 inches long and weigh up to 16 pounds, although most weigh in at a modest two to four pounds and are about half that length. They’re found abundantly in Lake Erie and its tributaries and also found in the Ohio River, especially near Pittsburgh. They’re stocked in many Ohio reservoirs, too.
    According to Ohio's Division of Wildlife, over 160 species of fish live in Ohio’s many aquatic habitats “from our largest lakes and rivers to the smallest ponds and creeks.” And 95 million of them are walleye. When I looked up current rules and regulations regarding fishing for walleye in Ohio, I found that no minimum size is required, but only 6 walleye may be taken per day/per person.
    Other important fish in Ohio include smallmouth bass, found in all of Ohio’s 88 counties.
    Bluegill live in almost every one of Ohio’s bodies of water.
    Crappies are one of the easiest fish to catch.
    The rarest fish found in Ohio’s waters is the diamond darter. Since 2013, it’s been listed as Endangered at the federal level (and illegal to catch). 
    Of course, people have different tastes in fish, but according to some, the most delicious are yellow perch, largemouth, and smallmouth bass. And walleye.
    The State of Ohio produces over 30 million fish each year in its six fish hatcheries located throughout the state. The hatcheries and the stocking efforts make a wide variety of fish available to anglers. The Ohio Division of Wildlife works with universities and the US Fish and Wildlife Service in their research efforts to “stock newly created or rehabilitated water areas.”
    While most areas provide fish that are safe to eat, it is important to check the Ohio Sport Fish Consumption Advisory. Their general advice includes up-to-date recommendations for where to find “clean” fish and how much is safe to eat.
    Smallmouth bass and walleye have been vying head to head for the State Fish title since at least 2003 when the Ohio House voted to name the smallmouth bass as state fish, but the measure did not pass in the Senate.
    It just made sense to choose the walleye. State Representative Sean Brennan said in June 2024 when he made his recommendation choosing the walleye. It “generates hundreds of millions of dollars in [economic] impact … each year.” He also reminded his colleagues that several “big-money” walleye tournaments bring “more anglers to Ohio from across the country and world than any other fish.” Nearly one million Ohioans are fishermen and almost half of them fish for walleye.
    Ohio has a “walleye culture” of sorts. Here's a schedule for the Lake Erie Walleye Tournament, held throughout northern Ohio in the spring and fall.
    “Go Walleyes” is the cry heard from the stands when Toledo’s professional ice hockey team plays. 
    Ashtabula and Port Clinton both host annual walleye festivals. And on New Year’s Eve, Wylie Jr., a 600-pound, 20-foot fiberglass walleye replica dives down from the sky to hook in the new year. The fish is LED-lit and suspended from a crane until the time is right. Fireworks finish off the festival.  
    This year, the Ohio House of Representatives approved the walleye at the end of their last session. The recommendation still needs to favorably pass out of the Senate and acquire Governor DeWine’s signature. 
    This time around, the folks in the statehouse don’t see any snags. Could they be focusing on more important issues? We can only hope.

I just started reading The Last Apple Tree by Claudia Mills (Holiday House, 2024). Two neighbors who aren’t friends learn the importance of family history, friendship, and ecology as they navigate complicated relationships with both their families.
                   Be curious! (and take a break from the news)

    Except for Papa, everything [Zavion] had known his whole life was gone. The big oak tree and its shade and the brick walkway leading up to his house. Gone. The house. Gone. Everything inside the house. Gone. And the one last thing that had reminded him of Mama. Gone.
    All of them swept away in the hurricane.
                               from Another Kind of Hurricane
                                   written by Tamara Ellis Smith
                                 Schwartz & Wade Books, 2015

    The Atlantic hurricane season begins June 1, each year and concludes September 30. That doesn’t mean Mother Nature will follow the guidelines climatologists, meteorologists, or regular weather-watchers expect. She makes up her own rules. We humans are only beginning to understand them. 
    Almost everyone agrees with the scientific facts pointing to changes we humans have caused to our climate. Without blame or oversimplification, we can acknowledge that warm air holds more moisture than cool air. 
    Severe weather occurs when air blows across the warm ocean. The water evaporates and the vapor rises. As the water vapor moves higher and higher, it cools and condenses back into large water droplets. Storm clouds form. As more water evaporates and cools, the clouds get bigger and bigger and start to spin with the earth’s rotation. If enough water gathers into storm clouds, they organize into the familiar pattern we see on weather maps.
    Tropical cyclone is a generic name. Hurricanes, typhoons, and cyclones are all names for the same weather system, a large-scale, atmospheric wind-and-pressure system characterized by low pressure at its center and a circular wind motion. Storms forming in the North Atlantic, central North Pacific, and eastern North Pacific are known as hurricanes. A storm in the Northwest Pacific is a typhoon. Storms originating in the South Pacific and Indian Ocean are called cyclones. A tropical cyclone in Australia is called a willy willy. Really.
    No matter what we call them, hurricanes need two conditions to form. First, a weather disturbance like a thunderstorm must be present to pull in warm surface air from all directions. Second, the storm must occur over ocean water at least 80 degrees F. In the tropics, between 23.5 degrees N and 23.5 degrees S latitude, seawater is hot enough to give storms their strength. Earth’s rotation gives them their spin.
    According to the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA)’s Fact Sheet, Ocean Exploration, "[r]ecent studies have shown a link between ocean surface temperatures and tropical storm intensity - warmer waters fuel more energetic storms." And ocean temperatures are indeed getting warmer. 
    NOAA is expecting an above-average hurricane season in 2024. But NOAA’s Administrator, Rick Spinrad, PhD, assures the public that his organization’s commitment to keeping Americans safe remains its highest priority. 
    AI-enhanced language translations and new depictions of inland wind threats are one way to keep the public informed. 
    New forecast models developed by NOAA researchers began operation this season. The National Hurricane Center (NHC) is now able to update the public immediately instead of waiting for the next full advisory, issued every six hours. 
    A new generation of Flood Maps was made possible through President Biden’s Bipartisan Infrastructure Law. Signed in November 2021, up-to-the-minute information is provided to help local officials prepare and protect people and infrastructure. 
    NOAA is predicting between 17 and 25 named storms. We’ve already experienced Alberto, and Beryl, wreaking havoc in Texas at this writing, is predicted to barrel her remnants all the way to Ohio late tonight and continue dumping rain till the end of this week.  
    Storms are named each year according to where in the world’s six basins the storm originates. Each basin has an organization that comes up with names for storms. The Atlantic and Eastern North Pacific share a six-year alphabetical list. The difficult letters, Q, U, X, Y, and Z are skipped. Naming began in 1953 and men’s names were finally added in 1979. Each year, gender-specific names are alternated. If a male name goes first one year, the next year a female name is chosen first. At the end of six years, the lists start over. Some day, maybe gender-specific names will become irrelevant. Names will just be names. But that’s a subject for a different day.
    If a hurricane is particularly severe, its name is retired. Since 1953, when storms were first named, 96 names have been retired. Any country may request a name be retired and the World Meteorological Organization has the final say. The last names to be retired were Fiona and Ian, both in 2022.
    The Greek alphabet, adding 24 more names, is used if more than twenty-one named storms occur in any one calendar year. 
    Hurricanes are classified according to their wind speed.
        Category 1 winds 74-95 mph
        Category 2 winds 96-110
        Category 3 winds 111-129
        Category 4 winds 120-156
        Category 5 winds 157- higher
Here's a chart from the National Weather Service describing the projected damage in each category. 
    Meteorologists are discussing whether to add a Category 6 to the classification schedule. Some say a new scale is needed since the Saffir-Simpson scale which is in current use measures wind speed only. 
    A new scale could consider the damage and loss of life caused by amount of rainfall, storm surges, and flooding. In light of the increasing severity of the storms and their increasing frequency, this might be a good idea. Especially with the newly implemented tools and forecasting abilities. The (NHC) has not weighed in yet. 
    The most active Atlantic hurricane season on record in terms of total storms took place in 2020, with 30 named storms documented. Fourteen became hurricanes, seven of them Category 3 or higher.
    Hurricane Beryl is the earliest occurring Category 5 storm in recorded history.
    
    No book this week. Too much fun with grandkids and 4th of July festivities. 
                                      Be curious! (and be prepared)

Today [Dirt and Bugsy] are looking for beetles.
It is not very hard.
Beetles are everywhere.
On the ground 
and in the air.
                               from Dirt and Bugsy: Beetle Mania
                                           written by Megan Litwin
                           illustrated by Shauna Lynn Panczyszyn
                                      Penguin Young Readers, 2023

    Yes, I know. The phrase is really “Put a bug in my ear,” and it means to give someone a reminder or suggestion that relates to a future event. So last week when I bragged that I hadn’t seen a Japanese beetle on my roses yet, my gardening friends put a bug in my ear about waiting until the 4th of July.
    Turns out, I did not even need to wait that long. 
    Japanese beetles were first discovered in the US in a New Jersey nursery in the early 1900s, unknowingly attached to the roots of some plants brought in from Asia for the 1916 World’s Fair. While their population is kept in check in their native Japan by natural predators, they have no natural enemies here. They seem to multiply at the speed of light.
    As of 2021, they are found in 38 states and continue to spread westward. Eradication efforts are in process from New York to California. Even if a massive effort is made to rid an area of the pests, more could (and probably will) reproduce and reestablish themselves at any time. Here's a distribution map from the Animal and Plant Health Inspection Service (APHIS), a division of the United States Department of Agriculture (USDA). 
    Among its other duties, APHIS watches for “hitchhiking” adult beetles to prevent their continued western spread as it regulates air cargo traffic. 
    At my house, and my neighbors’ houses and their neighbors’ … adult beetles emerge from underground around the 4th of July. They feed on my rose bush and about 300 other plants including grapes (fruit and leaves), basil, hollyhock, marigolds (which some sources said are a deterrent since the beetles don’t like the smell), corn silks, cherry, plum, and birch trees.
    During their four to six weeks of activity, a feeding frenzy and mating orgy, females burrow underground periodically to lay their eggs. Each female will lay between 40 and 60 eggs. By mid-summer, right about now, the eggs hatch, and hundreds of thousands of grubs begin to feast on the grass roots conveniently close to their burrows. By late autumn, the grubs are about an inch long. They remain buried in their larval stage all winter, ready to emerge as pupae in early spring. Their metamorphosis is complete right around the 4th of July when the cycle begins again. 
    And again. 
    Looked at objectively, Japanese beetles, like the rest of the 350,000-400,000 species of beetles in the world including the 205 species of beetles that live in Ohio, are quite beautiful. The shiny, iridescent greens complement the richly-hued coppers of their outer wings. All set off by jet-black legs and feathery-looking antennae. 
    But I don’t stop to consider their beauty. They eat the leaves of my roses, morning glories, and the beautiful little, red bush with the springtime pink flowers until all that’s left are their skeletons. 
    Last year, against my better judgment, advice from gardener friends, and knowledgeable staff at the local garden center, my husband put up a beetle bag. The bags work by attracting the beetles, but they attract ever so many more than they catch. So even though beetle after beetle flew into the bag in enormously huge numbers, the staggering swarm seemed endless.
    In years past, I’ve tried ignoring them, picking them off one by one and dropping them into a jar of soapy water, spraying my bush with the same soapy water, and just shooing them away when I found them as I watered and weeded. And my coincidental and serendipitous companion planting. 
    These mildly non-aggressive tactics predictably did not work to eradicate the infestation. 
    So my beetle battle begins, again.
    This time around, I know I need a more offensive stance. I don’t mean to offend. That’s not the offensive I’m talking about. I’d rather deter than decimate, demolish, or destroy them, but when I have to choose between a flower and a bug, I’ll choose the flower every time.
    I read that Japanese beetles do not like the smell of chives, onions, basil, garlic, or rosemary. Coincidentally, my rosebush lives in the midst of all those plants, but my rosebush’s Japanese beetles did not get that memo. While companion planting sounds great in theory, it has not been effective in my small garden.
    I bought a spray bottle of Japanese Beetle Killer made by Bonide. It includes two active ingredients. Pyrethrins, found naturally in some chrysanthemum flowers, are a mixture of six different chemicals that are toxic to insects. Piperonyl butoxide is a man-made synergist. It works to enhance the effectiveness of the insecticide it’s combined with. 
    According to the label and the website, it’s registered with the EPA and safe to use on vegetables. 
    The first couple of days required vigilance. I sprayed my little rose bush every time I saw a beetle. Needless to say, I was outside for a good portion of the day. Since then, though, I have not seen a beetle. 
    But you can bet that if I do, (when I do) it won’t be there very long.

I started reading The Woman in Cabin 10 by Ruth Ware (Gallery/Scout Press, 2016). I’m a little out of my regular genre (whatever eclectic mix that is) with this psychological thriller. After a young woman boards a luxury yacht to complete a work assignment, she witnesses something horribly disturbing. Without any evidence, though, no one on board believes her. So is this a classic case of gas-lighting, or did the unthinkable event really occur? (I haven’t gotten far enough along, yet to know.)
                                      -—stay curious! (and watchful)

…as they raced along the road Milo continued to think of all sorts of things; of the many detours and wrong turns that were so easy to take, of how fine it was to be moving along, and, most of all, of how much could be accomplished with just a little thought.
                                        from The Phantom Tollbooth
                                            written by Norton Juster
                                          illustrated by Jules Feiffer
                               Random House Children's Books, 2011
                                              (e-book read on Libby)
                                             originally published in 1961

    When I was young, I liked to ride my bike. I’d sometimes ride to school. Sometimes I rode to the neighborhood swimming pool. I’d sometimes ride to Lawson’s for bread, not milk in those heavy, glass 1/2 gallon jugs. 
    Or I’d go round and round the block and end up home. The wind whipped my braid, the sky was blue, the flower-scented air invigorated me. The journey was the point of the ride.
    Now I’m more into the destination. I don’t mind walking. I actually go out of my way to walk around town when I can. I walk to the library (if my book bag is not too full). I walk to the post office and the bank. I can walk to the grocery store if I don’t need too much bulky produce or too many heavy cans. In those cases, I consider the return trip as the more important leg of the journey. 
    I walk to our county fairgrounds to admire the flowers growing in their gardens. But I don’t see the point of walking (or riding my bike) around (and around) the block. I tried it and noticed the flowers in my neighbors’ yards and listened for birds and watched out for traffic. But it seemed pointless. I have a hard time getting past the futility of it all.    
    But, we’re all travelers, literally. Our Earth zooms around the sun every 365 or so days and we continually spin in place day and night at about 1,000 miles per hour at the equator and a little slower as we move toward the poles. We don’t feel the movement because everything is spinning at the same rate.
    Some people are filled with wanderlust. The word itself comes from the German for desire + to hike. And for people who are full of wanderlust, curiosity about places away from home can feel insatiable. Their longing to be somewhere else, consuming.    
    And Walletbe.com suggests travel can eliminate prejudices as we discover we all have similar needs for food, shelter, and human connections. We learn to accept and understand different cultures and ways of life.
    They also say, traveling to far-flung destinations helps us appreciate home, family, and friends all the more.    
    And in their article about Wanderlust, inscripture.com suggests when we go to a place where food, language, and the natural environment are different from home, and learn to navigate that place, travel becomes a confidence booster.    
    But physical travel to a different geographic space is not the only way to experience another culture, even another time.
    Books, fiction and nonfiction, those written for adults and those for even very young children tell tales of journeys. 
    Harold and the Purple Crayon by Crockett Johnson tells of a boy who draws himself in and out of adventures with his purple crayon. After some narrow escapes, he draws up his covers and falls fast asleep.
    The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry is the story of a young prince who travels to many different planets including Earth and discovers what it means to be human. He returns home mysteriously to find the rose he loves but left behind. 
    The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum shows how Dorothy Gale, angry with her “witchy” neighbor, gets caught up in a tornado, finds herself in a strange land, and finally is able to wish herself home again.
    Homer’s Odyssey, C. S. Lewis’s The Hobbit, Jack Kerouac’s On the Road, Douglas Adams’s Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy are all examples of journeys. More than merely describing the physical space, the authors (and their characters) search for answers to life’s big questions. What is important? What does it all mean? Where are we going? Why?
    And we readers travel with them, looking for answers to the same questions.
    For some, the journey is all important. For others, it’s the destination. Some travelers are focused on the trip itself: the maps, the reservations, the sights along the way. Others concentrate on important landmarks, new cuisines, and different cultures. 
    Still others spend their wanderlust in a dictionary, moving from one definition and etymology to another. Or exploring in a library. Coming in with a purpose, maybe, but giving in to wonderful and unexpected mysteries, or recipes, or biographies. 
    Or the chance encounter with a real neighbor or an old friend like Huck Finn, or Rebecca, or Harry Potter or Katniss Everdeen.
    Mostly, I like to stay home. I know where everything is. I always know where I want to go (even though I don’t always remember why I want to go there), and I don’t get lost. Unless I’m traveling to Manderlay or Oz, or tagging along with Milo after depositing my coin in a magic tollbooth.

In advance of reading the new book James by Percival Everett (Doubleday, 2024), I picked up Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain (Chatto & Windus, 1884). Published 20 years after the end of the Civil War but set 20 years before it began, Twain presents an America in the throws of racism, the plight of enslaved people, growing up in a backwater town, and finding the true meaning of friendship. Looking forward to  James, where Everett tells us the story from Jim’s point of view.
                       Be curious! (and stop to smell the roses)

    “…Crickets are good luck.”
    “Good luck, eh?” Mama’s voice had a way of sounding very dry when she didn’t believe something. “Cricketers are good luck—so I suppose ants are better luck. And cockroaches are the best luck of all. Throw it away.”
    “Please, Mama, I want to keep him for a pet.”
    No bugs are coming to my house, said Mama.
from The Cricket in Times Square
written by George Selden
illustrated by Garth  Williams
Farrar, Straus & Giroux, 1960
Caldecott Honor, 1961
    By the end of George Selden’s classic, Chester, the cricket who accidentally arrived in New York in a picnic basket, discovers his unique talent and saves a failing newsstand that was on the brink of bankruptcy.
    Chester is a cricket. He does not play cricket. In that regard, he is like most Americans. In the US, cricket doesn’t even make the top five most popular games. Those are (American) football, baseball, basketball, ice hockey, and soccer. But worldwide, according to BestDiplomats.org, the second most popular spot belongs to cricket. 
    The game itself is ancient. Some say cricket originated in Flanders, the Flemish Region of Belgium, and may have been played as early as the 13th century. Others say cricket originated in the late 1500s in England. Think Queen Elizabeth I, William Shakespeare, and the Globe Theatre. While the people were attending live theater, and while Sir Francis Drake was plundering the known world at the behest of the Queen, British soldiers played cricket in India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Sri Lanka, and the West Indies. The game caught on as a “side effect” of colonization. It’s popular in South Africa, Australia, and other former British colonies, too.
    So why didn’t the sport flourish in the American colonies or Canada? Over the years, historians and cricketing experts have presented their thoughts. Some are illogical. Some are not historically probable.
    Canada and the US have a cooler climate than the countries in the rest of the cricket-playing world, but think about England’s climate where the game has been played in one form or another since William Shakespeare could hold a cricket bat. Besides, Canada and the US play other so-called warm-weather sports like baseball.
    Or maybe cricket isn’t as popular because it takes so long to play and Canadians and Americans are, by nature, (?) impatient. According to sportsbrief.com “[t]he game usually lasts about 7 hours and 30 minutes each day and the matches are played over five days.” Since the introduction of T20 games in 2005, though, a complete game is usually played in about three hours.
    The overabundance and strict adherence to rules might be to blame. But even though we Americans and Canadians are known for our independent spirits, when it comes to sports, we follow rules just like the rest of the world. 
    Since Canada and the United States were ruled over by the English for most of their recent histories, it might seem like the animosity is fresher. But just look at Australia. And India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, and South Africa. Cricket is played there widely. And golf and tennis, which both began in England are very popular here. 
    The only answer that might hold water according to crictracker.com is the influence of A. G. Spalding, American businessman and sports manufacturer. He promoted baseball to a wide audience by devising a system of professional leagues and commercializing the sport. He popularized the phrase, “Cricket is a pastime, Baseball is War” implying that baseball was a more serious sport. And when baseball was introduced as a college sport, cricket’s popularity continued its decline.
    On January 5, 2024, the International Cricket Council (ICC), announced its 20 teams. They are divided into four groups of five. Each team faces the others for a total of 40 matches.
The season is wrapping up as the Super 8 stage is getting ready to compete in the semifinals. What is so surprising is that the USA is represented in these top 8 teams.
    Team USA has already beaten the Canadian team and the Pakistani team and made history by beating Ireland in a washout last Friday (6/14/24). By earning their spot in the playoffs, Team USA also qualified for the 2026 T20 World Cup.
    The next scheduled game starts at 10:30 ET at Sir Vivian Richards Stadium, North Sound, Antigua. Team USA will play against the team from South Africa.
    I had an occasion to talk to a friend of mine who’s originally from New Zealand. His face lit up when I asked him about cricket. He played it when he was young and said it’s a great game and was great fun. 
    Learning the terminology is my first hurdle, especially overs, bowlers, the pitch, and the purpose of a wicket. The complicated rules pose my next challenge. I’m sure even a rudimentary knowledge of the game makes watching it much more fun. 
    But if cricket puts the US on firm footing on the world stage, I’m a fan.


I just finished Cranberry Queen by Kathleen DeMarco (Hyperion, 2001) and still don’t like it. Sorry, Sam. Still reading The Body Keeps the Score. It’s still interesting. Next week, something new!
—Be curious! (and take time to play)


FB: Some people consider eating a sport and MLE (Major League Eating) disqualified Joey Chestnut, the 16-time champ, from participating in Nathan’s 4th of July’s hot dog eating competition on Coney Island because Joey signed a contract with Impossible Foods and endorsed a vegan hot dog. Really. 


     

    Amelia Bedelia scooped up first base, and second base, and third base. 
    “Home!” shouted the boys.
    “Run home, Amelia Bedelia!”
    Amelia Bedelia looked puzzled, but she did not stop running. And on her way she scooped up home plate too.
                                       from Play Ball Amelia Bedelia
                                            written by Peggy Parish
                                         illustrated by Wallace Tripp
                                                   HarperCollins, 1972
                                     (accessed on YouTube 6/1/24)

    What would baseball be without its statistics? Baseball, besides being America’s pastime, is a numbers game. Batting averages, RBIs, numbers of bases run, ball speed (from the pitcher to the player and off a player’s bat) numbers of stolen bases, home runs, times left on base, you get the idea.
    And a couple of weeks ago, everything changed. Under the direction of the Commissioner of Major League Baseball, Robert D. Manfred, Jr., the League decided to include statistics from players who had been excluded from Major League Baseball until Jackie Robinson was offered a position with the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1947. 
    Shortly after George Floyd was murdered in 2020, the Major League accepted the Negro Leagues into the Majors. And now, to complete that work, statistics from the Negro Leagues are incorporated into the Major League historical record books.
    Baseball was organized in the 1860s. In the beginning, a few Black players played alongside their white teammates. Soon, though, Jim Crow laws and segregationist attitudes left over from the Civil War thwarted the careers of many Black ball players. They were still just as talented, but were not allowed to play with established clubs.
    The turn of the 20th century saw unwritten rules between team owners effectively segregate baseball. Black ballplayers formed their own teams. By 1920, Hall of Famer Andrew “Rube” Foster organized these new teams, and on February 13 of that year, the Negro National League (NNL) was born. 
    “Rube” Foster knew baseball. And he knew the racism at work. Even though crowds thronged to watch Black players, gate receipts were controlled by white booking agents. Little attendance money went to the team owners. Anyone who complained, risked losing a place to play. “Rube” also knew that to be successful, the Black teams needed to organize. He knew the Negro Leagues (which is what they became) needed to be just as professional and earn for its players the pay due to a professional.
    Among the cities whose teams inaugurated the NNL were Chicago, Cincinnati, Dayton, Detroit, Indianapolis, Kansas City, and St. Louis. Soon other teams organized into the Eastern Colored League and the Southern Negro League. The Black teams flourished until 1929.
    The Depression forced “nearly every colored baseball league, including the NNL, to shut down.” (National Baseball Hall of Fame) 
    Finally, the Leagues reemerged in 1937 as the Negro American League. They played with full rosters and full schedules and full stadiums until 1947 when #42, Jackie Robinson (with lots of encouragement, and fortitude, and persistence) broke through Major League’s color barrier and played for the Brooklyn Dodgers. 
    Robinson’s position in the Major League marked the start of Negro Leagues’ inevitable decline. But not before they proved Black ballplayers could play just as well as their white counterparts and attract crowds just as big and just as enthusiastic.
    But the decision to include the Negro Leagues into MLB and incorporate their statistics is not without controversy. First, the obvious but unanswered question, “Why did it take so long?” 
    And although it’s wonderful for family and fans to finally see the recognition those outstanding Black athletes deserve, the controversy for me comes from the idea that “wiping the slate clean” gives everyone a do-over on an even playing field, so to speak.
    Lest anyone think the Negro Leagues were “separate but equal” to their counterparts in Major League Baseball, know that the playing fields were anything but equal. Sometimes they could use a Major League field, but needed to schedule their games around time commitments already made. Negro Leagues did not have up-to-date equipment. Team owners needed to rely on white booking agents. Gate sales were woefully unevenly divided.
    Mostly the clubs played when and where they could. A few teams owned their own parks and a few of these segregated fields still exist. A movement to preserve them is a modern idea. You can find a list of some of them here. 
    And still with all this working against them, the 2,300 players on the Negro Leagues played outstanding and organized baseball from 1920 - 1948.
    Numbers (usually) are not my friends, but here are a few I like.
The all-time best batting average from 1876 to 2024 is .372 held by Josh Gibson. He was a powerhouse player for the Homestead Grays and Pittsburgh Crawfords. His .466 in 1943 is the highest mark in Major League history.
    Babe Ruth is still great. He holds second place with his overall batting average of .342.
    Here's the newly revised chart from MLB that takes all players’ stats into consideration. 
    Baseball on TV is where you’ll usually find me, but there’s nothing like the roar of the crowd, the smell of the popcorn, and the “twing” of a regulation baseball smacking against a metal bat for a home run!

I’m reading The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma by Bessel van der Kolk, M. D. (Penguin Books/Penguin Publishing Group, 2014). Whether dealing with the experience of war or tragedy in our personal lives, we all deal with trauma. Neuropsychology is shedding light on how our brains and bodies are connected, and how trauma “literally reshapes both body and brain.” Dr. Kolk describes innovative treatments like yoga and meditation, among others, to activate our brains’ ability to heal itself and our bodies.
                                     -—Be curious! (and play fair) 

I’m playing catch-up this week, but I’ll be back next Tuesday. Thanks for your patience!

Fox is late for lunch.
Go, Fox. Go!
      .    .    .
Fox gets home just in time.
                                                 from Fox is Late
                     written and illustrated by Corey R. Tabor
                  Balzer + Bray/ HarperCollinsPublishers, 2018
                             (accessed on YouTube 5/27/2024)

    As shown in Cory Tabor’s last, clever illustration, Fox is rushing around because he is the one serving lunch. His friends are concerned that their own lunch will be late.
    Although I like to be on time, punctuality was not a gene I inherited from my mom. I’m not as procrastination-prone as my dad was though, and I’m not as distractible as my daughter. I’m just sometimes a little time-challenged. Doing that “one more thing” usually makes me “not early.”
    Quarter tills and quarter afters mess me up, too. And this past week, I was a whole week early for a scheduled meeting (that I had recorded correctly on my calendar). 
    My issues with timeliness usually only affect me, and it’s something I’ve become more aware of as I realize my time on this planet is limited.
    Not so, it seems, with Ohio’s legislators.
    In order for President Biden’s name to appear on Ohio’s ballot, he must be recognized as the Party’s official candidate at the Democratic National Convention (this year in Chicago) at least 90 days before the General Election. But 90 days from August 19, is November 17, and Election Day (the first Tuesday after the first Monday in November) falls on November 5 in 2024. 
    Ohio’s ballot deadline is 12 days too late. 
    In April 2024, Secretary of State Frank LaRose advised Democrats in Ohio’s Congress that their convention was scheduled after the August 7 ballot deadline. He said they needed to pass a legislative decision by May 9 to solve the timing issue. The easiest way would be to change the deadline for certification. 
    Thats been done as a matter of course in the past. In 2012 and again in 2020, the Ohio legislature made sure all the candidates were certified in time for the election.
    But this time, disagreement between the Ds and the Rs resulted in different versions of a bill. Congress wants to move the certification deadline to accommodate a shorter “window of opportunity,” 74 days instead of the required 90. But Rs in the Senate included legislation to ban foreign nationals from contributing to ballot initiatives. Ds said “no” to that. 
    Ds agree that banning foreign political contributions is necessary,  and according to House Democratic leader, Allison Russo on her X platform, accepting money from foreign donors is already illegal. Ds want a “clean” bill that addresses only the issue at hand, the date discrepancy.
    Meanwhile, the Senate has already passed its version with the foreign contribution phrase, referred to as a “poison pill.”
    And the House is still deadlocked. 
    Last week, Governor Mike DeWine intervened. He wants to ensure that President Joe Biden's name will appear on Ohio’s ballot for the General Election this November so he called the Congress back into a special session to begin this very morning, Tuesday, May 28, 2024. 
    But DeWine, himself a Republican, does not support the “clean” bill in the House, the ones the Ds and Rs both support. He asked the Representatives to pass the Senate version.
    Obviously, it would be less than ideal (on many levels) for the citizens of Ohio to be forced to vote for Joe Biden, the incumbent President, by writing his name on a blank. And as reported in The Hill, “any newfound sense of urgency from Rs is not really about Biden…It’s about [the R’s wish] to undermine ballot initiatives.”
    It is an open (and a little bit scary) question, whether the Parties are willing to work together for the benefit of the citizens of Ohio to solve a problem that at its heart is not political.
    Both Parties and Biden’s campaign are confident that Joe Biden’s name will appear on Ohio’s ballot this fall. But at what cost?
    I’m sharpening my pencil.

I’m reading Mad Honey, by Jennifer Finney Boylan and Jodi Piccoult (Ballantine, 2022). It’s a story of domestic abuse and how it affects the survivors. I’ve only just started it, so I hope there’s some redemptive feature or a bit of optimism. I’ll let you know next week!
                       --Be curious! (and strive for punctuality)