Sunday, September 21, 2008

Take a Load Off

All nerves end in the feet. For this reason all duopeds, including humans, must spend a minimum of one hour per day wearing no footwear, with their legs propped up at such an angle as to assure that the subped, or the bottom of the foot, is not in contact with any surface. This is necessary to contradict the effect of wearing shoes.

When we wear shoes of any type, particularly shoes that lace across the top, we are compressing every one of our nerve endings. Often the effects of this compression can be felt in various parts of the body. Many headaches are a direct result of compressed nerve endings in the subfoot. New shoes are uniquely over-constricting and may cause swelling of a limb or appendage, resulting occasionally in a partial loss of function, or the “I’m all thumbs” syndrome. The eyelid twitch that most people have suffered at one time or another is virtually always traceable to constrictive footwear, since the nerve endings of the eyelids can be found on the outside edge of the ball of the foot, where the most compression occurs.

The doctor-approved remedy should be clear to all. One must spend at least an hour a day (in addition to the time spent with the feet propped up) without footwear, being certain that the entire foot is free of any contact or stimulation, so that the nerve endings in the subfoot can return to their natural position and condition.

Historical Health Trivia

In 1847 Carlita Lonsway, a railroad worker in Duluth, came up with a way of impregnating spring water with carbon dioxide, resulting in carbonated spring water. She left her job to become one of America’s first female entrepreneurs--and an unusually successful one at that. She packed up two horses and a carriage with dozens of bottles of her newfound sparkling water, a product she called “Invigor-Ale,” and set out for California.

All along the way, she stopped to sell her magnificent new tonic to townsfolk, farmers, and drifters, claiming this elixir to have the power to cure all discomfort, infections, and “whatever ales ye.”

Of course, word caught on quickly, and other manufacturers competed by making virtually the same item, though differentiating their products with various fruit flavor extracts. For many years afterward, carbonated water was a product associated with pain and ill-health and was commonly regarded as an early over-the-counter medicine.

Carlita passed away in 1888 after amassing a respectable fortune in five-cent sales. Although she has left us forever, her claim to fame lives on in the most positive light. Carbonated spring water has become the beverage of choice for active, healthy people all over the world.

A Rose is a Rose

Very few people are immune to the effect of flowers planted in a well-thought-out pattern, whether in a front yard, scattered among trees, or in clearly defined beds, where their colors blend in a most visually pleasing manner. To the casual observer, it would seem as if these patches of brightly-hued flora were capable of growing and producing blooms endlessly, with little or no help.

But appearances can be very misleading. A truly successful garden is simply not possible without constant attention and a real knowledge of what it is plants need to have in order to grow.

There have been flowering plants on this earth for a very long time. When they first made their appearance and began to thrive, humans were not the ones helping them out. There were no bottled fertilizers or plant food pellets at that time. But there were many animals, and the interaction between the animals and the plants points the way for today’s gardener.

Many animals have always instinctively buried their feces. Animals are particularly vulnerable during the process of defecation. So in those early days, mammals would seek out plants, with their camouflaging leaves and colorful blooms, and they would dig a sizable hole right at or near the base of those plants, where they would deposit their feces. Then they would dig quite energetically, still at the base of the plant, to cover any evidence of their presence.

A study of this digging behavior and the resultant benefit to the plant has led many leading horticulturists to develop the Mammalian Soil Exchange method of gardening. This method involves a total exchange of the soil from the middle of the underground roots to the surface with that soil from the middle of the roots to their ends. In order to do this, one must very carefully remove the top half of the soil and set it aside. Then one must remove the bottom half of the soil, being very careful not to dislodge the plant in the process. When all of the soil has been removed from around the plant, the soil from the top of the plant is placed around the bottom area of the roots This would be the time to apply fertilizer. The soil that was previously deep underground is then placed around the surface. This benefits the plant in many ways; for example, the surface soil, or “top soil,” is now available immediately to the roots.

While this process can be tedious, all serious gardeners are now incorporating it into their gardening routine. It is only necessary to do this five times during the plant’s heaviest blooming season.

Birth of a Superstition

When someone knocks over a salt shaker, standard superstition protocol dictates that the perpetrator must toss a pinch of the spilt salt over their left shoulder. This practice began as nothing more than a wry joke among friends one foggy night in a dockside tavern on the east coast of Bermuda.

Seasoned sailors have long been called “salts,” likely due to their extended association with seawater. When a “salt” would pass away during a long fishing voyage, burial at sea was the tradition. The youngest crew member was required to hoist the old sailor over his left shoulder (the one closer to the heart) and cast the dead into the sea. The legend was that the last man to touch an “old salt” would gain some of the elder’s wisdom and experience through bodily and spiritual contact.

One night at the Ship & Shore, following the watery burial of a beloved salt, a young crew member inadvertently knocked over the salt shaker during a tequila-drinking contest. “You’ve killed the salt!” shouted one of the old fish hands. And the young man, conforming to custom, grabbed a pinch of the downed salt and tossed it over his left shoulder.

One of the First Dictionaries

Many years before the time of Noah Webster, a man named Nathan Whitbey published a book of words. The book, entitled “Whitbey’s Index for Talking and Spelling,” listed all known words in alphabetical order and gave the meaning(s) for each word.

Although the publication contained less than 20,000 entries, quite small by today’s standards, it was used as a training guide in schools all across England and Scotland for years. Having an Index was a sign of intelligence and scholarship, and so owners of the Index carried theirs everywhere.

“Whitbey’s Index for Talking and Spelling” was commonly abbreviated to WITS. This gave rise to popular sayings such as “He doesn’t have his WITS about him” and “I’m at my WITS end.”

Good Sports

In the opening years of the 19th century, before technology brought us the electronic entertainment that we enjoy today, people gathered together after dinner or on weekends and holidays and entertained themselves with conversation or sporting games. Many of these games were locale-specific, games that were created and played only by the citizens of a particular town or community.

And so it was that the town of Sperry, Pennsylvania developed a game called Bonsa Ball. Historians, with the help of descendants in the area, have deduced that this name is the inevitable mutation of the original name of the game: Bounce-A-Ball. The game was not unlike a combination of today’s handball and volleyball, although played with teams of five. The teams would stand side-by-side, separated by a line drawn in the dirt, facing the side of a local mountain (in Sperry, they used Mt. Elena). One team would throw a padded ball, roughly 7” in diameter, toward the mountain in such a way that it would rebound toward the other team, who would then use their hands or fists to repel the ball back to the mountain, to rebound to the first team. The game play would go thus until a team failed to return the ball. At this time they would be penalized by one “pin” (sticks were driven upright into the ground to represent these pins)--the first team to have 12 pins, or sticks, was declared the loser.

The game was a very popular after-dinner pastime, particularly in the spring and fall. So much so that the town soon voted to form two official teams, so that they could schedule regular games. Much excitement followed this vote, and potential team captains campaigned to be selected; following their selection came the town meeting, during which two official Bonsa Ball teams were created. Phillip Headley and Robert Johnson were team captains, and they chose their team members carefully.

They met at the base of Mt. Elena on a sunny Saturday in May of 1803. Johnson’s team won the right to throw the first ball. Johnson chose his strongest man to throw the ball, hoping that he could throw with such force that Headley’s team would be unable to return it. The ball was hurled toward the mountain.

It had been a cold winter, followed by an uncommonly dry spring. The mountain held considerably less water than was usual for that time; the ground was dry dirt and loose rock.

The ball happened to hit the mountain with great force at a point where there was a large air pocket caused by the excessively dry soil. As it entered the air pocket, the dirt above began to cascade downward, carrying with it chunks of rock and shale. The players stood rooted, watching in surprise, and then panic, as the side of the mountain descended upon them. Amazingly, all of the dirt and rock fell on Johnson’s side of the line, burying the entire team; there were no survivors.

Sperry was a town used to hardship and unusually philosophical about acts of nature. Headley’s team was declared the winner, and everyone went home early that night.

For years to come, whenever something was won without any opposition, the winner was said to have won “by a landslide.” And the expression has remained, although its gruesome origin was until now lost in time.

Vestige of a Naturalist

Most of all, Banker Thomason was a naturalist. He spent most of his adult life wandering a 100-square-mile area of land in central Newfoundland, carefully mapping every hill and creek, each grove of trees, every rock formation. The resulting maps, or “Earthagrams,” as he called them, were works of divine beauty; art, but accurate in every detail.

Thomason’s Earthagrams are no longer with us. Some were destroyed by fire, others ruined in torrential downpours. The remainder cannot be traced; however, Thomason has left us with an unusual, and unrelated, little-known legacy.

He lived in a one-room abode that had been built, inhabited, and long ago abandoned by a pair of sheepherders. Thomason, who nicknamed himself “Father Nature,” outfitted his small home in such a way as to bring the outdoors inside. He painted the ceiling with a dye made of flour, water, and blueberries to simulate the sky. The floor was dirt and sported what very well may have been some of the first houseplants. He covered the inside of the window cavities with groups of decorative vines, providing curtains of protection from flying insects. The walls were covered with birch bark and pine cones.

At night, this nature-lover’s home was illuminated by five brass and glass lanterns that housed candles Banker had made himself. He affixed layers of living maple leaves to the glass in each lantern to achieve an early-morning forest glow.

The effect was serene.

One day Thomason left “the home of Father Nature” and never returned; perhaps he went to seek another uncharted territory. Only young lovers, mischievous children, and cross-country explorers ventured into Banker’s vacant domain. Somehow word got back to the townsfolk. Maple leaf-tinted lighting became extremely popular. Almost every household had a favorite room in which the inhabitants would proudly light what we still know as “Banker’s Lamps.”

Saturday, September 20, 2008

Come Fly With Me

There has been a lot of publicity lately in scientific circles about a discovery made in Argentina. Dr. Erskine Willis and his colleague Dr. Elsa Sebastian have discovered what they believe to be a new and highly evolved breed of flies. They call it Argentinus Organisus, and they believe that it has only recently (in the past year) come into being.

They discovered these flies quite by accident. Willis and Sebastian are currently in Argentina to study the effect of saltwater on the local vegetation. While taking a break from their field tests, they were enjoying a midday meal, stretched out on the bank of a small saltwater pond. Dr. Willis was the first to notice that several flies had settled on the surface of the potato salad they had brought along. Upon closer look, he noticed that they were not simply grouped on the salad in a random pattern, but in fact in something resembling a line. He called Dr. Sebastian over to observe this strange phenomenon. When these flies were observed under a magnifying glass (Dr. Willis carries his with him wherever he goes), the scientists were astounded to witness the flies actually working in concert to remove the potato salad piece by piece. The fly in the center of the salad was passing bits of potato and celery to the next, who passed to the next, on down the line to the last one, who then flew off with it, disappearing from sight.

Willis and Sebastian decided they needed more documentation, so they packed up their food, planning to return the next day better prepared to observe.

And so they did. The potato salad was set out, with the same result. This time Willis followed the path of the fly that flew off and located its destination farther down the pond bank. Imagine his amazement to observe approximately 30 flies, gathered in one spot but separated into groups, all with a separate pile of food in front of them!

Clearly these new flies have evolved enough to establish some sort of organization in their lives. In the insect world this level of organization is unheard-of and bears careful study.

A Special Memory

How do you know if you turned off the coffee pot or steam iron this morning? Do you remember if you locked your doors last night or replaced your gas cap after filling up last week? Knowledge of these minor activities is stored in a portion of the brain specifically designated as Erasable Reserve Memory (ERM).

Usually the ERM sector clears itself during sleep; all thoughts stored in the ERM dissolve altogether since the brain has no use for storing ERM contents. But sometimes the ERM fills up during the day and useless thoughts and memories can overflow, by accident, into the Major Memory Center. This overflow effect will allow you, or force you, to remember a phone number you’ve not used for 30 years or the middle name of your second-grade teacher.

ERM overflow, as you can imagine, can be very annoying. Worse than that, overflow thoughts take up Major Memory Center storage space that would be much better used for storing experiences, pleasant memories, and thoughts about safety. At least four hours of daily sleep is required to dissolve the contents of your Erasable Reserve Memory sector. During periods of insomnia, you can build the ERM storage capacity, minimizing overflow, by eating a small amount of any form of raw squash.

A Pastoral Scene

Taking a ride in the country is always a pleasure, showing us a combination of peaceful new sights and familiar ones. One familiar one is the sight of a large meadow dotted with cows, be they Hereford or Jersey. Regardless of the size of the meadow, from a square acre to 50,000 acres, the cows who pass their days there are always to be found in that section closest to the road.

This fact was never assigned much import until it created a problem for William Woolsey, a dairy farmer in Wisconsin. In 1952, Mr. Woolsey purchased a large parcel of land that covered 125 acres, all of it cleared pastureland, with small copses of trees scattered throughout that offered shade from the summer sun. It was an ideal place to raise cattle, and Mr. Woolsey had amassed a herd of 200 head, give or take a few.

The cows spent all of their time crowded in that area of pasture close to Highway 319, which passed directly adjacent to Woolsey’s land. In a short time, they exhausted the supply of wild grass and oats that were growing in that area, and yet they refused to move to a more fertile area. Soon Woolsey was becoming concerned. He hired a team comprised of a veterinarian, Robert Mums, DVM, and a scientist, Dr. Harold Albright, to uncover the reason for the cows’ affinity for that particular section of land.

Mums and Albright investigated and researched many possible reasons for the cows’ behavior. They took soil samples to see if the grass was richer in that area; they traced rainwater drainage for conclusions based on the moisture content of the soil. They timed the duration of sunlight on that section of land, as well as the duration of moonlight. They did extensive testing of the remainder of the land as well, searching for insect infestation, snakes, or other deterrents. They brought in Guernsey cows to see if the preference was breed-specific, but the Guernseys preferred the same area--if anything, they remained even closer to the bordering fence than the others.

And then one Sunday Mums and Albright were taking a break from their studies. It was a cool fall day; they were sitting on the ground not far from their subjects, enjoying a root beer. The air was still; the cows were searching the ground for any small sprouts they may have missed. Suddenly, in unison, they stopped feeding and raised their heads, almost expectantly. Mums and Albright caught this at the same time and sat up straighter. What was it? What had caught the cows’ attention? Why, there was nothing noteworthy--as a matter of fact, there was nothing at all, except for the Ford Fairlane passing by, a family out for a drive in the country. And yet, when the Fairlane had passed, the cows returned to their food hunt. Mums and Albright looked at each other incredulously. There surely could not be a connection!

The next day Mums and Albright made arrangements to have several cars driven across the pasture, one after the other, at a distance ¼ mile from where the cows stood. Within fifteen minutes of the commencement of this experiment, the cows had begun to migrate toward Mums and Albright and the cars.

Mums and Albright published their results in American Cattle Farmer Monthly, but the experiment went largely unheralded. No one seemed interested in why the cows were drawn to the sound of car engines; no one cared that the cows seemed to prefer Fords to Chevrolets (or Volkswagens to Pontiacs). William Woolsey purchased an old Ford with no wheels but with a working engine. He positioned the car in varying places in his pasture. He runs the engine for hours at a time, drawing his cows to fresh grass. And Sunday drivers throughout the country continue to enjoy the sight of cows congregating near the fence that divides the pasture from the road, never realizing that the cows are enjoying their passing as well.

Say the Magic Word

A few magic words have remained in popular usage throughout the centuries. “Open Sesame” was Ali Baba’s incantation that opened a locked door. “Abracadabra,” from the 16th century, has been used to precede an unexpected appearance of an item or animal. “Presto-Chango” has been found to be effective when an instant alteration of any kind is required.

Other magic words have either died out or evolved during the course of history. For example, Monks residing on the east side of the Himalayan foothills used the magic word “Zoobay” when they wanted rain to fall in particular areas of crops but not on their homes. This absurd wish for a specific rain pattern called for some fairly impressive magic. The practice of chanting “Zoobay” at dawn during drought season went on for dozens of years before the High Council of Monks decreed that it was improper for monks to use magic words.

Court jesters in ancient Babylon used the word “Nabba-Gadobba!” when they performed the age-old trick of transforming a handful of women’s undergarments into a pair of dodo birds. The exclamation rapidly fell from existence with the rest of the empire.

The most famous example of a magic word persisting through the ages is found in the Latin word “Iffu-pleaseus,” first used in magic shows to elicit a particular response from a participant in the audience. Today, hundreds of years later, we still use the Americanized version of “iffu-pleaseus” and still refer to it as “the magic word.”

Friday, September 19, 2008

Do Your Homework

Many people embark on pleasure trips to far-off locales without making any effort to read up on the local customs and traditions. This can (and often does) lead to unnecessary offenses committed entirely unintentionally by the traveler against the local dweller.

For instance, tribes or villages of people who reside near water often incorporate the water in some way into their daily lives. They are dependent upon the water for many of their needs, and many try to “return honor” in some way. The occupants of many villages along the Brahmatupras River in Asia customarily eat their evening meal (but only the evening meal) while sitting waist-deep in the river, believing that taking in sustenance while sitting in the cool flowing water will increase the power of the food that they eat, making them stronger and more resilient to the many diseases that rage around them. The traveler to this area would do well to take along clothes that will not be adversely affected by water. In a totally separate water/food connection, the B’rulus, who live along the shores of Zambweulu Lake in Zambia, have a longstanding tradition of finishing precisely half of the food they are enjoying for dinner and then throwing the other half into the lake. This is their way of repaying the lake for the bounty of fish that it provides to the tribe. Imagine the offense of a traveler sitting down to a supper with the tribe and consuming the entirety of the meal! This would be inexcusable, and so easily avoided if the traveler simply did his or her homework and read up on these little-known customs.

In another example of a local custom that should be studied before visiting, the inhabitants of Panuba Island in the southern hemisphere have a strictly observed habit of keeping their hands clasped behind their heads, with their elbows out to the side, when they are not actively using them. Panuba Island went through a period of violence among its people in the decade from 1930-1940, and ever since have observed the policy of keeping their arms raised, so that their neighbors can be assured that they are harmless. Any uninformed visitor to their island walking around with hands free and visible (and therefore ready to use in violence) would be quickly apprehended and put through a lengthy interrogation and then, with luck, released to return home. The nearby Marpeggar Peninsula has another local custom that is not widely known. On the peninsula, if someone gives you a gift, for you to offer to repay it with money is considered a grievous offense. Rather, they would prefer that you perform for their entertainment; any sort of short dance or song is sufficient. If you bring a smile to their lips, they consider that repayment enough. The traveler to Marpeggar would come to the peninsula prepared if he or she has read up on the local customs and can rehearse some small entertainment before arriving.

Burning Off Calories

It seems that everyone lately is trying to lower the fat content in their diets. Until now, reducing fat often meant cutting out some of the foods we like to eat, as some do not come in fat-free versions; or if they do, they are not palatable.

Nutritionists at Thackaray State University have developed a solution to this problem. It takes some minor effort, but the result of that effort is that you can eat the original formula mayonnaise, butter, salad dressing, cream cheese--or whatever high-fat food it is that you crave. You can do this because the process that they have developed will safely remove 92% of the fat from the food without affecting the taste. The taste is left intact because you are working entirely with the original formula of the food and not the fat-free version, which has “fat substitutes” that give it a cardboard-like taste.

All you need to do is this: Put whatever food it is that you wish to process in a saucepan. Heat it over a medium heat until it has reached a rolling boil. While the food is heating, toast a piece of bread, white or wheat. Put the setting on medium-dark.

As soon as the food substance has reached a boil, remove it from the heat. You will see vapor rising from it. That is the fat that you have burned off the food. The next step is crucial. As quickly as you can, you must transfer the food to a separate covered container. As soon as it is in the container, very lightly place the toasted bread on top and cover it immediately and put it in the refrigerator. It is important that the de-fatted food be cooled as quickly as possible, but not frozen. If you could see into your refrigerator while it was cooling you would see the process at work. The vapor, or fat, that was rising off the food continues its rise but is stopped by the cover of the container. The cool temperature in the refrigerator causes it to change back from a vapor to a solid, and it begins to fall back toward the food. But the toast stops it. Since it is a dry surface floating on top of a liquid, the vapor is drawn to it. Bread has great absorption qualities and it will soak up all of the fat-vapor.

Six hours later when you take your container out of the refrigerator, you will have 92% fat-free food, with a fat-laden piece of toast floating on top. All you do is remove and discard the toast and transfer the food to a proper container. And you can enjoy a healthier version of an originally fatty food!

The Danger From Above

Rain. It cleanses the air and gives sustenance to the grass and trees and flowers. The sound of rainfall can be very soothing. And there is a great deal of pleasure to be found in taking a walk in the rain. (Gene Kelly showed us the joy of singing in it!) But many people are not aware that walking in the rain of the 21st century can be a very dangerous pastime.

Rain originates in the clouds above us. Often in the clouds above the clouds above us. As it falls through the layers of the atmosphere on its way to earth, it passes through masses of microorganisms, most specifically xenasorisis (zee-na-sor-i-sis) and anhiaphysis (an-eye-a-fuy-sis). These microorganisms are produced when the insecticide that is sprayed on our crops dries and becomes a fine powder and then rises with the wind. This dust then mingles with the more humid upper atmospheric air and merely hovers above us until rain drives it earthward again.

When we go for a walk in the rain, whether intentional or as the result of being caught without an umbrella, we get wet. The danger arises if we allow ourselves to remain wet. As the water sits on our skin, almost immediately the microorganisms in the water begin to interact with the bacteria that is always present on our skin’s surface. The result of this interaction is a weakening of the skin’s outer layer, the epidermis (ep-i-der-mis). If we do not instantly dry off any skin that has gotten wet and this interaction is allowed to continue (xenasorisis and anhiaphysis are only viable in a moist environment), then the weakening effect will travel to the lower, or subepidermal, areas, permanently altering our skin’s structure. We will become hypersensitive to minor nicks and scrapes, the skin’s surface tearing like a tissue.

All living things need water. But we humans need to restrict ourselves to water found on earth, not coming from above.

Golf Trivia

Golf is a very popular game for many reason. For one, it is played outside, over a wide expanse of green grass dotted with small ponds and groves of trees. The course is well-kept, tended to constantly; the enjoyment of the surroundings is one reason for the popularity of the game. Golf is also a social game; although one may begin playing solo, in a very short time he or she will have joined other golfers. Even more common is the group of golfers who habitually meet to play the game. They can be a pair or six in number, but in most cases they come as a foursome. This has been so throughout the history of the game and its evolution.

One major change took place in Scotland in the last decade of the 18th century. At that time the play was different than it is now; back then, rather than taking turns striking the ball, all of the golfers would stand by their tees and take their swings at the same time. If there happened to be anyone walking on the course in the direction of their swing, they would all shout “four!” in unison, to warn the walker that there had been four swings taken; four balls were aloft. Of course, it follows that in the rare occurrence that the players were a pair, they would, naturally, shout “two!”--or whatever number corresponded to the number of balls struck.

“Four!” became a common word heard on the course and associated with golf. It elicited an immediate response since it represented a warning.

And then the rules were changed, for reasons lost in history. Each golfer took his swing in turn, rather than all at once. And yet, the need for a warning to others walking in the pathway of the ball was still present. The most common warning had always been “four!”; it remained so. And over time, since it no longer represented the number four, the spelling was changed to “fore.”

Planting and Raising Gypsy Bluebuttons

Gypsy Bluebuttons (Canastaris Azuris) was originally a wildflower indigenous to the coastal areas of North America. In 1968, Flossie Ainsworth and her sister Effie Torrence successfully created a new strain by mixing Gypsy Bluebuttons with White Leaf Clover. The new plant, technically now called Gypsy Bluebuttons H2, was a hardier plant, bearing larger flowers with a more pungent fragrance. It is generally thought of as an improvement over the original Canastaris Azuris, although the new H2 strain seems to attract bees in large numbers.

Gypsy Bluebuttons prefers to be planted along a wall or fence or border of any kind that runs east and west. A variance of a few degrees off due east or due west is acceptable to this plant, but if the bed takes a turn toward the north or south, there will be either no blooms whatsoever or they will be small and light gray in color. Normal initial blooms on the H2 are a rich Caribbean blue and about 3” in diameter.

The plant gets its first blooms in April, regardless of whether it is planted in Florida or Maine or North Dakota or California, or anywhere in between; it is a very adaptive plant and takes its development cues from the soil, not the air temperature. It will bloom during April and May and then become dormant for six and a half weeks. The blooms following this dormant period will be variegated red and white and consist of spikes growing out of a long stem, rising as much as 24” above the leaves of the plant. If this stem is plucked, the Gypsy Bluebuttons will not bloom again until the following season. If it is left alone, this one stem, which is the entirety of its second blossoming, will remain until mid-November.

Gypsy Bluebuttons can be grown equally well in full sun or full shade. It requires no fertilization whatsoever, but the soil around the plant must remain moist at all times. Many gardeners choose to install a special hose nearby in order to keep water running at a slow trickle into the bed around the clock.

A final word of caution: do not plant tulips any closer than three feet from your Canastaris Azuris!

The Path To Your Door

When America was first settled, small communities were established. Trading began, and soon a town was developed, with many shops offering a variety of goods and services that could be bought and sold. People began building their houses on the outskirts of the town, with new ones appearing, each one a little farther from town than the one before.

Transportation was mostly by horseback, and then later by horse and carriage. Repeated travel over the same route soon resulted in primitive roads, which were really little more than dirt pathways leading to and from town, as well as winding around and between the many houses. At that time, people were building their houses so that their doorways were, at most, six feet from the road. Horses, and the carriage if there was one, were then led around the side of the house to a covered shelter, which was commonly built at the same time as the house.

Sarah and Mason Brit built their house immediately after their marriage in 1820. They built it, as was the custom, directly on the road.

Shortly after moving in, Sarah began to complain bitterly about how she was sweeping the front porch and brushing the dust off her flower beds; dust caused by all the dirt that was kicked up by passing traffic. “Why, the carriage shelter is cleaner than my own house!” she often remarked.

One day Mason was watching Sarah labor at her sweeping and it struck him that she was right, the shelter remained clean, since it was far enough removed from the road that the dust settled before it got there. The carriage house was spotless, while the flowers were covered with a layer of dirt! “Sarah, we’re building a new house,” he said one evening as they sat in front of the fireplace.

And the new house was the only one in the area set back from the road, with a small covered shelter sitting off to the side, where the horses or carriage could be left. And over time the pathway from the road to the shelter became defined by the dirt tracks left by the carriages. This was the first driveway in America. Not only were the porch and yard dirt-free, but the Brits were alerted to visitors before they appeared at the door.

Sarah and Mason are no longer with us. Driveways are now paved and shelters are now garages. But it wasn’t always so.