Date: Fri 20-Oct-1995

Publication: Bee

Author: CURT

Quick Words:

Mountain-Wasserman-Hipp

Full Text:

Mountain for 10/20

We like to get visitors here at The Bee, and our front door gets a workout

every day from old friends who stop by to see us and the occasional newcomer.

The Bee, for those of you who have never been here, is a rabbit warren of

offices, and often we find first-time visitors who have gotten off the beaten

path wandering around lost in typesetting, looking for the classified

department, or the editorial department, or more often than not, for the exit.

Well, this week even Bee employees were getting lost. We've been reorganizing

ourselves by moving desks from one place to another. Usually when we move the

desk, the person working at the desk trails along behind just out of curiosity

- but not always. Consequently we've been having a hard time finding each

other, and our many visitors are having a devil-of-a-time, since the

directions we give them often get them more lost than they would have been

exploring on their own. In fact, we couldn't find reporter Kaaren Valenta all

week. There's a rumor that her desk is now in the boiler room, but that rumor

is hard to check out since no one seems to know where the boiler room went to.

Julia Wasserman successfully found her way in and out of the office this week.

She was trying to drum up some interest in her crusade to get the state to do

something about the hazards of lead paint, but she wasn't so single-minded in

her purpose that she neglected to tell everyone who would listen that her

Christmas tree operation will be opening up soon. It isn't even Halloween yet,

and Julia's trying to get everyone in the Christmas spirit.

This is normally the time of year when I go around waiting for the sky to

fall. Well, not the sky exactly. Apples. At about this time, the orchard in

the backyard where I usually hang out becomes a dangerous place for cats and

other low-to-the-ground beings. The apples let go without any warning, and

then bop! You get smacked right on the bean. Well, this year, this particular

orchard hasn't produced one apple.

I know this isn't the case everywhere, because over at the Farmers' Market in

Stony Hill, they've got all kinds in abundance, even Macouns, which I like

very much. I don't know why my orchard has decided to take the year off. I

guess I'll just blame it on the dry weather, which is what I've blamed almost

everything on lately.

Driving through the center of Sandy Hook at night has always been a pleasant

experience ever since the big push to spruce up the area over the past few

years. I particularly like the gaslight-type lighting fixtures on the four

corners of the bridge. My enthusiasm for the scene, however, has taken a 25

percent dip lately, ever since the light bulb burned out in the lamp on the

northeast corner of the bridge. It must be the dry weather that did the bulb

in.

I thought you might like to see a picture of my friend Katie, the St Bernard.

She and I have had a go of it a few times during our friendship, but that is

the nature of cats and dogs, I guess.

INSERT DOG PHOTO HERE

Here she is at a birthday party last weekend where the canines outweighed the

guests. A little bored with the conversation, she patiently waited for the

cake to be served up (see how her paws are placed?)

Speaking of celebrations, it was great to see the people who care for those in

our community gather to honor one of their own. Claire Hipp was honored

October 16 at the Senior Center for her many years of public service. Someone

baked a cake to drool for - carrot cake with apricot filling and cream cheese

frosting. But it was most fun to see Marilyn Place, Sheila Knox, Karen Hoyt,

and Linda Pancrazio hanging out together and enjoying themselves (of course

they managed to slip in a lot of work). At 7:30 pm none of them had even

stopped to eat dinner. I should have so much energy.

That's it for this week. I thought I'd spend a little time looking for the

boiler room and Kaaren Valenta before I go home. If I don't get lost, you're

all invited back here next week to...

Read me again.