Weather Or Not

I was duped over the weekend. I was duped and I should have known better.

I fell for it. The hype, the hysteria, the madness. I felt like Chicken Little waiting for the sky to fall and it never did.

To be honest, I wanted the snow. Five inches, ten inches, two feet - I wanted to be snowed in. No where to go. Stuck in my house with my family. (Yes, teens included). We spend weekends running from one activity to the next so the possibility of being stationary, quite appealed to this ol' gal. But again, I knew better.

I have mentioned before that I have some meteorology knowledge. I spent three years studying weather through Mississippi State University. Weather has always been a fascination of mine from the time I was little. My heroes: Bob Kudzma, Joe DeNardo, and Dennis Bowman. Yes, you know the names, you remember their faces. I looked up to them - wanted to be them. I would perform my own forecasts in my living room. We had a wooden front door that appeared to have tree stump lines going from side to side. The lines were bowed like those found on a weather map indicating the jet streams. I would stand in front of the door and talk about the weather making it up as I went.

When I was in between having my first and second children, I was trying to figure out what I wanted to do with the rest my life. I was working in radio at the time and I really didn't know which direction I wanted to go in. A friend of mine was making the transition from doing traffic reports to becoming a weather gal and was wrapping up her schooling. The more I thought about it the more those childhood memories came into play. Maybe, just maybe, this was my calling. Maybe I knew it way back then.

Long story short, I got my broadcast meteorology certificate in August 2004 and a month later my daughter was born. Three months after that, my husband got a job back home in Pittsburgh. I have never used my certificate because well, life got in the way, but I got a lot of knowledge stuck inside my brain. One little helpful tidbit is - you can't forecast snow.

Because I was only in a certificate program and I did not pursue a degree, we only skirted the snow prediction dilemma. There is too much higher math involved and even the best will tell you, it is not an exact science. There are many levels of the atmosphere to account for, many variables to consider, including the unique western PA topography, and many scenarios that are possible.

During the past week, local weather personalities worked hard to formulate the most accurate forecast to prepare us viewers. They knew some people were going to get a lot of snow, but they did not know exactly who.

 It is a shame because no one puts their face and name in front of information they do not think is reasonably accurate. But at the same time, snow is snow and well, you know how the weekend panned out - that 4 to 8 predicted in Pittsburgh ended up being maybe 1.5 inches, if that, in my backyard. But a mere 25 miles away that 4-8 came to pass, and then some, in places like Lawrence and Clarion counties.

 While we didn't get the snow forecasted, we did get a wintry mix and cold temps that forced many organizations to cancel events on Sunday. We had three things on our Sunday schedule that were eliminated. So it made for the day I needed, the stationary day of laying in bed, catching up on laundry and attempting to get the house back in order post holidays. I even played video games, which I never do. I haven't had a day when I didn't leave my house probably since the summer. Yes, it was overdue!

 Our local forecasters have been trying to explain what happened and why snowmageddon missed us, but it certainly gave local grocery stores a boost. Going into my local Walmart on Saturday night, shelves were actually bare. Spaghetti sauce, cereal, juice - gone. I didn't even bother checking out the toilet paper. I knew what kind of ghost town that would be. (I already had stocked up with the good stuff last Thursday. I told you - I got sucked in.)

 It's only January and there is still a lot of winter to be had. Let's not be sad by what didn't happen. Let's be glad that slowly the days are getting longer and spring is only two months away. And when that time comes, the only thing forecasters will have to worry about is the rain record we will beat this year.

Photo from late March 2018 snowfall.

There Are Places I Remember

Sometimes in life the moment defines what course you should take.

Sometimes a detour is called for.

I was stopped at a traffic light in McKeesport, on my way to my next destination, when I noticed the words National Tube Works on the side of the brick building behind the former Daily News. Despite the cold crisp day, the welcomed sun seemed to illuminate things that had been washed out by the grey overtone that is typically Pittsburgh in the winter.

I have driven past this building many times in my life, but never had those words jumped out at me the way they did at this moment. The significance of those words... National Tube Works is that my grandfather spent 30+ years of his life working there. I never had the opportunity to see him in action, or see actually where his department was, but I knew he faithfully rode a bus each day to get to and from his job. I knew he received a special engraved gold clock for his years of service.

As I sat at the light the thought ran through my head to take a photo with my phone. Unfortunately, the thought came too late and I had to drive on. I turned as soon as I could to double back and then I saw them...their blue color and shape unmistakable. I was drawn to them. I had to see them up close.

Another detour.

This time I was distracted by the royal blue onion domes of the Orthodox church on Shaw Avenue. I used to stare at these domes as a child while at recess. I attended St. Nicholas School just up the street. Our playground was a gravel lot a few doors down from the church. When I was a kid those domes seemed so majestic, so rich, so other worldly. I always wanted to go in that church, but to this day, never have. I would spend many an afternoon gazing at those domes and the other day against a clear blue sky backdrop they remain a beacon in that depressed community.  I took a few photos and then headed back to National Tube.

I am not sure what caused me to be so nostalgic the other day, but I did have a motive to take photos . I thought what if they tear down that National Tube Building? What if that church closes and the domes lose their allure? These cell phones make it so easy to capture moments and our storage space is often filled to capacity with more photos than we need, or will even download, but those photos of my grandfather's workplace and the Orthodox church, yeah, I want to be sure to have those.

My parents grew up in McKeesport and they remember what things were like when the town was bustling during the steel mill hay-day. Although it was sad for me to drive around and see how much things have changed from my childhood, it is almost like those days never happened with what is left, what is no longer there, and what has been replaced.

But McKeesport isn't alone. The other day someone posted an old time photo of Braddock Avenue and I did not recognize one building - Ohringers Furniture Store, Ochs Restaurant. I only became familiar with Braddock after the closing of Braddock Hospital so I don't have the intimate knowledge as many who grew up there.

It is sad how things change and the older I get the more nostalgic I seem to become. The farther you get from the "good ol' days" the more you want to remember the simpler times with no worries. Now the landscape where my children grew up is about to change. The Kmart in North Versailles is about to close forever and Kings Restaurant's will eventually disappear to make room for a Get Go.

That corridor is about to transform from what they have etched in their minds. There is a lot of talk about what might move into the Kmart building and my kids are hoping for either a Target or a Panera/Chick Fil A combo. We all can dream, right?

So as the landscape of our lives continues to change, we should not be afraid to make little detours. Let's keep filling up our phones with photos because we can and don't have to go to the Fotomat and wait 5 days to see if they took. Do you remember where there used to be a Fotomat? I do.

California Dreamers Bring New Life To Rankin Church

The final mass at Visitation of the Blessed Virgin Mary Church was held in September of 2011. The beloved Croatian Catholic church with the vaulted ceilings, large pipe organ and honey colored pews in 2014 was stripped of all religious articles and closed for good. For years it sat, falling prey to neglect. It, along with many other closed churches in the area, kept alive only through the memories of those who were married there, those who were baptized and came of age within its walls, those who, in the sanctuary, said their final goodbye to a loved one.

It is hard to believe that a place with such a wealth of memories would one day be discovered by a young man browsing Craigslist, looking for a place to live. Jordan Stasinowsky, age 24, was house hunting when he came upon this diamond in the rough. Jordan has called Pittsburgh home for the past two years. He works as a financial advisor for PNC Investments and early in 2017 he discovered the church and wanted to convert it into a place he could live. He pitched his idea to his parents Cheryl and Wally, who have been in construction for more than 20 years in California. At the time, they were in the middle of a remodel with their daughter, Amber Smith, and her husband, Daniel, teaching them the ropes of the construction business.

Cheryl flew into Pittsburgh to see why her son was so enamored with this church. "I wanted to talk him out of it," she says. "I told him yeah, it costs $34,000 but you would need to put a million dollars into it to make it into a house, and then you could never sell it."

But while she was in town, and after looking at other listings, she started asking Jordan some different questions. "What else could you do with this building?" and Cheryl says one night, over dinner, the idea of a wine lounge popped into his head and the two began a marathon conversation that, within an hour and a half, laid the groundwork for Mary's Vine. Yes, she admits the idea was crazy but there was one aspect she couldn't shake, Jordan's desire to make this a family project - incorporating all the talents of five individuals.

Cheryl admits she is a California girl, but fell hard for Pittsburgh during her initial visit to investigate the church. Wally, Amber and Daniel felt a pull to the area as well after coming in person to see what this dream was going to take. They agreed, "We'll move our whole entire life to support you in this dream." But as fate would have it, their dream would involve two churches, not one. A real estate agent introduced the family to the former St. Barnabas church, less than a three minute drive from the future wine lounge.  That church and rectory held up better than the Visitation of Blessed Virgin Mary church, in large part due to its age. Visitation was built around 1903. St. Barnabas was built more than fifty years later. The rectory allows for members of the Stasinowsky family private and shared living space not far from where Mary's Vine is taking shape, while a local congregation leases the worship space.

 Everyone wrapped up projects underway in California and by November of 2017 Cheryl was on site full time. Everyone, except Cheryl, has a full time job so she oversees the project. "What we are giving to our kids - is priceless. We have meetings once a week when we discuss what each of us is doing."  Each member of the family has a role - Wally handles the building construction, Amber takes care of the human resources end, Daniel oversees all of the IT Systems, software, website, and marketing and Jordan is the wine guy. He is a certified specialist of wine and is currently studying to be a Level 2 sommelier. Jordan and Daniel are currently developing a, first of its kind, app that will walk a person through the, sometimes overwhelming, experience of choosing a wine.

Mary's Vine will offer between 45 to 50 wines by the glass. These will be wines people are familiar with but there will also be selections to help you step out of your comfort zone and expand internationally. The family will utilize Bermar vacuum sealing technology to preserve the contents of a bottle after being opened and will allow the prices to remain reasonable. This will also enable customers to try high end wines and champagnes and not break the bank. The app, through a series of questions, will intelligently guide a person through the selections and refine their choice to five wines along with menu recommendations that will pair perfectly.

"The goal is that it will remember what you liked last time, if you liked it and it keeps track to see if someone wants to branch out.  The purpose is to always grow people in their experience and their appreciation of wine and always feel comfortable with it," Cheryl explains.

The menu will feature a beef, chicken, salad, and seafood dish each night with an extensive list of appetizers for pairing. The kitchen will be in the former social hall of the church and dumbwaiters will allow staff to retrieve the meals quickly on the main floor. Live jazz music will be featured during hours of operation with an emphasis on Wednesday’s to promote the Pittsburgh jazz scene. During the rest of the week, music will add to the atmosphere.

"Wine is appreciated, Wine is slow. Wine is savored so we want the whole experience to be that way."

The years of neglect took its toll on the church. Major repairs needed to be done including replacing the plumbing, HVAC system, roof, and the electrical system. Wally and Cheryl have cashed in their retirement to get the building where it is right now, which shows their commitment to seeing this project through. They have been working with the Enterprise Zone and local banks to acquire financing.  "Everything that we have is in this place. It has to work. We won't recover from this."

Cheryl and her family are hoping that others will want to share in making their dream come true. A Kickstarter campaign is being launched this week to help raise the additional funds needed to complete the remaining work and ensure a spring opening. There will be thank you gifts from wine glasses to t-shirts but the family is hoping many in the community will want to immortalize a loved one through personalized wine bottles that will be showcased along the wine serving counter, in a shadowbox Wally crafted with wood from the church's pews.

"All we hear are the stories of 'We were married here, I grew up there.' The generational history that this building already contains - that's what we get to give not only to our family but to the community,"

An agreement with the borough of Rankin will allow the lot along Rankin Boulevard to be utilized for valet parking that will be 100% free with no tip required. A beautifully landscaped park will be the gateway to the Tuscan experience that awaits visitors of Mary's Vine. An illuminated sign and waterfall will be seen from the Rankin Bridge as a beacon inviting people to once again gather in this former worship space where generations gathered for more than a century.

"This area is about to change over. We got in on the ground floor. We brought dignity back to this building and when we get the outside finished, it will be back to life again."

For more information on Mary's Vine visit their website marysvine.com or check out their Facebook page.

 A lot of work needed to be done within the church due to it not being used or maintained for many years.

The family tree mural is taking shape through a collaborative effort of strength and creativity. 

Amber and Daniel Smith, Jordan, Cheryl, and Wally Stasinowsky in their holiday photo from the choir loft.

It's a Kind of Magic

I don't think I am the only one who has experienced a little bit of Christmas magic in their lifetime.

I know that having had children in my life for the past 16 years, the holiday has been a source of great stress but also great joy. But even with kids of my own, my thoughts this time of year are of the best Christmases I ever had. The ones when I was a little girl waiting for Santa and hoping my little heart out that I had been good enough to get a few presents under the tree.

Of course I have memories of the great gifts I received over the years, as well as the great gift (a Cabbage Patch Kid) I didn't receive, but my favorite memory has nothing to do with a gift. It has to do with the year my brother and I hung out with Santa in our bedroom.

I was probably 5 or 6 at the time and my brother and I were just bursting with excitement. It was Christmas Eve and my mom was trying her best to get us to go to sleep. My brother and I had bedrooms in the attic and, if memory serves me correctly, we were sharing my room for the night. I remember finally being in bed too awake to even think about sleeping and I am sure my brother and I were whisper talking when we were interrupted by these sounds coming from the roof.

Thunk, thunk, thunk

We stopped talking to see if we could hear it again. Our minds were racing as we wondered if it could have been reindeer landing on the roof. What we heard next was a different sound. A much louder and recognizable sound.

"Ho, Ho, Ho! Merry Christmas!" Followed by the ring of sleigh bells.

Now we knew Santa had arrived and we raced out of our room to greet him. We were about to bound down the stairs for a first hand view of the man in red but were cut to the chase. He was actually coming up the stairs and each step was loud as his boot met the wood. By the time he got to the top of the staircase, my brother and I were jumping up and down.

I think my brother, with the more outgoing personality, was ready for a sit down with Santa but it was tight quarters upstairs. As we were getting the pleasantries out of the way I remember my brother saying, "Santa, let me put the light on."

Santa replied with a chuckle, "No, Ronnie that's ok." But before he could finish his sentence my brother had flipped the switch. What happened next I can visualize as if it happened yesterday. The light bulb in the fixture came on for a second and then flickered out. The bulb was dead.

Now don't think we were all fumbling in the dark, squinting to see Santa. There was a faint light on in the hallway, but my ever so curious brother wanted to see ol' Saint Nick clearly and fully illuminated. (Keep in mind, a brightly lit room could have revealed familiar traits that may have blown our guest's cover.)

The lack of light did not dim our conversation though. I really don't remember if I mustered up any courage to say one word during our special visit, but my brother had the chance to ask the burning question on his mind, "By the way, Santa, how's your wife?"

I remember the laughter and joy surrounding our intimate visit with Santa. It was brief but powerful. I don't even remember what special toy Santa left me that year, but the gift I received that night has outlived anything received as a child. (Although,  had I received a real Cabbage Patch Kid for Christmas in '83 I bet I would still have her.)

The memory of the light bulb burning out in the lamp carried me through my years of Santa doubt. I know there might be a truly practical, scientific reason why at that moment the bulb gave its last glow, but I prefer the more magical explanation. Wherever you stand on the Santa story, you cannot deny the magic surrounding this time of year.

During the past couple weeks I have noticed people are a little more friendly, more generous, more loving. I had a conversation in Walmart with a stranger about elf slippers as if we were best friends. I received an unexpected gift from a friend that was absolutely perfect. I had a picnic dinner with my husband in an uncrowded PPG Wintergarden surrounded by gingerbread houses and Santas from around the world. Magic!

I hope whatever magic you find this Christmas season makes your heart happy and warms your soul.

Merry Christmas!

KB and Santa at the Governor's Mansion

Up On The Roof Top

Sometimes it takes 14 years to make a dream come true.

This weekend after a very long day, I returned home to see a beautiful lit Christmas wreath adorning my house. The wreath was complimented by our festive Christmas lights, wise men, Mary and Joseph.

My husband, like many other smart minded people, took advantage of temps in the 60's this past weekend to get the outdoor decorating done. I know some of you overachievers had your lights up after Thanksgiving, but after getting the inside of our house decorated, our gas tank was on E.

This wreath I speak of has been a dream of mine since we moved into our home 14 years ago. Our roof comes to a point above our front door and the triangle shape, in my opinion, made the perfect spot for a wreath. Of course slapping a wreath up there would not be easy. There would be drilling involved, borrowing a ladder, heights to be climbed. No, this was not for the faint of heart.

In my loving, wifely way, each year I would say, out loud, this year I am going to put my wreath up there - like it would be so easy with a wave of my wand "Poof!" there it is. Truthfully, I was a waiting for my husband to risk life and limb to make this happen. Believe me when I tell you, with kids and work, some years it was a feat just to get the tree up. (I am sure many of you can relate.)

I was never truly disappointed when a Christmas would come and go without the touch of green that could make our house snap with holiday sizzle. But, I would whisper to myself, like a sinister Elf on the bad side of the North Pole, "Next year, will be my year and I will be envy of everyone in Christmas town."

This past weekend paved the way for my husband to 'get er done' since I would be out of the house for most of Sunday. He bought the wreath, bought a special drill bit to drill through mortar and then borrowed a ladder from our next door neighbor. I wish I could have watched the scene unfold as the magic started to happen. I am sure, while on the ladder, the words coming out of my husband's mouth were not very magical, but he would never admit that.

One of our other neighbors assured my husband that he didn't need to drill through the roof to make way for Santa. "That is what the chimney is for," he joked. Yes, my husband was able to spread holiday cheer and humor throughout our neighborhood, trying to make my Christmas dream come true. When he explained his story and what he was actually trying to do after 14 years the same neighbor responded sympathetically , "Sometimes it takes that long."

My husband told me to inform him when I would be driving up our street so we could do light up night. This was a tradition from my childhood when after a day of detangling lights, hanging up strands of bulbs, and replacing burned out bulbs my mother would take us kids across the street so my dad could flip the switch for the first time to reveal our holiday house.

Some years it would be red lights. Some years it was multi-color, although my dad's signature shade was blue. I remember our exaggerated 'oohhhs'  and 'ahhhs' to make my dad feel good about a job well done.

The one year my dad was having some trouble getting the lights to come on after numerous attempts to flip the switch. He came outside to investigate the problem  and that is when our neighbor's adult son classically asked, "Hey Ron, you need a match?" My siblings and I wanted to laugh, but we did not dare. We feared our dad would not be able to keep his frustration in check and may take a swing at the guy. But luckily, my dad offered only a slightly sarcastic reply and minutes later was able to set the house aglow with the cool flicker of soft blue illumination.

Light up night this past weekend offered the usual glow of red, green and white lights on our home along with the nativity scene, but it was only after pulling in the driveway did I notice the wreath near the roof. I was so surprised and excited. Because the windows of our van were down, in an attempt to give my older children a better view, I am sure my neighbors could hear my big mouth yelling, "My wreath, my wreath, I finally got my wreath!"

I am not sure why this became the year of the wreath. Was it the weather? Was it that the stars were aligned? Was it my nagging? We probably will never know the true answer to this one but really, who cares? The wreath is up and I can take in it's glow every night when I pull into our garage after a long day. I am kind of thankful that it took more than a decade for this dream to come true because I am sure after the first year, fifth year or even tenth year that I mentioned it, it would not have been appreciated nearly as much as it is now.

Snoopy creator Charles Schulz is quoted as saying, "Christmas is doing a little something extra for someone.” It sure is nice to be that someone!

Santa, please....

You may have spotted a jolly man in a red suit if you did any shopping Black Friday weekend. My daughter and I were coming back from running errands on Saturday when we spotted Santa and it appeared he needed some chicken fries from a fast food restaurant.

We were so excited for our first sighting of the season. We were hooting and hollering in our van screaming, "It's Santa! It's Santa!"

My daughter did not know I decided to see where Santa was actually headed. Instead of going straight through the intersection, I turned right. I wanted to know where Santa was going and what was he up to. When away from the North Pole, did he super size his fries? Was he a beef or chicken guy? Coke or Pepsi? I wanted to know.

This seems absurd that a 44 year old woman would be this interested in getting to the bottom of Santa's food preferences, but what can I say? Inquiring minds want to know.

As I pulled into the parking lot, our eyes were peeled to see if Santa was in the food line or already seated. But in the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of red. As I pulled focus I noticed red items balled up in the back of a pick up truck. As I took in the entire scene, I saw a man with red pants around his ankles standing near the side of a truck. Santa was taking his pants off in the parking lot.

"Cover your eyes!" I warned my daughter as I drove away as fast as I could. Don't get me wrong. Santa wasn't exposing anything. He did have layers on, but my fantasy world was extinguished pretty quickly.

I kept replaying the scene and shaking my head. It was not right to have a Santa disrobing in a parking lot. Don't these guys so to Santa school? Isn't there an etiquette code these "Helpers" have to follow?

The next day I went to a nearby store and once again a Santa sighting. I was with all three of my kids and yet again the response was the same "There's Santa!" Now my little guy is 7 so I would imagine his excitement is more heightened than someone in their fourth decade. But before you could say ho ho ho, he was yelling at a motorist driving though the parking lot to hurry up so he could cross.

"Come on, come on," he uttered gruffly as my kids and I took a step back. This Santa was grumpy and we didn't want any part of that.

Now it isn't even December and these guys are already disgruntled. What is going on?

I have to admit that I am not too keen on seeing another Santa anytime soon. I don't know what I am going to get. My Christmas spirit was at an all time high until I saw the remake of Bad Santa come to life.

Not for one minute do I believe that being a retail or restaurant Santa is easy. I know what some kids are like and if you aren't used to being around little ones it can be taxing. But if you are in costume, whether you are grabbing a quick bite or going to the loo, these guys should keep in mind someone could be watching. Actions speak louder than words and I am sure Santa did not change in front of the elves or yell at reindeer who got in his way.

So please, dear people who this time of year make a few bucks taking on the role of Santa, remember this is more than just a job. It is a passing of the torch if you will. A spark of magic that can last a lifetime. Please don't yell at people while in costume and please keep your drawers on until you are out of sight!

  

Ho Ho No

I did something last week I have never done. Ok. I don't know if never is the right word but for the first time in at least 16 years I started listening to Christmas music before Thanksgiving.

Two of my kids came home from school to observe candles lit on the dining room table, muffins on a Christmas tree tray and 'Is Zat You Santa Claus' blaring from the living room.

"Mom, what is going on?" my daughter shouted. "Please turn it off."

Yes, I admit even for me it was weird. Deep down, I knew it was wrong, but I didn't care. I was like Superman and my kryptonite had arrived - about an inch of snow on November 16. It made everything look a lot like Christmas and I wanted to bask in it. The snow wore down my defenses and I was not up for a fight.

Funny thing is I didn't wake up that way. In fact, an hour before the holiday spirit took over my body I was buying up what was left of 70% off Halloween decorations at the local dollar store. I had a basket full of spiders, window cling skeletons and webbing I planed to pack away to surprise myself when I unpack the tote next October. But the Thanksgiving stuff was bookended around the Halloween stuff. Then the Christmas stuff was just across the aisle. I was...defenseless.

Although I managed to get out of there without any tinsel, the seed was planted. When I got home, I baked muffins and made a pot of potato soup. The view from my kitchen window was hard to ignore - the shed, trees and bushes lined with snow. (Blades of green grass could still be detected as the snow wasn't deep enough to make it a true Norman Rockwell scene.)  The wind was howling adding a chill to the air and, for me, the only blanket big enough and warm enough to drive away the winter blues was to embrace the only thing I like about winter, Christmas.

I have been a staunch believer that Christmas music is for after Thanksgiving. There were even years I made my family wait until December 1 to start listening to anything ho, ho, ho and fa, la, la. Before you report me to the Grinch Patrol, I have since seen the error in my ways. Now, after I have consumed my second plate of stuffing and sampled every pumpkin dessert,  it is time for Bing, Dean and The Beach Boys. To be fair, I just wanted to be sure as a family, we could devote time to be thankful for our blessings before diving headfirst into the consumerism that Christmas often brings.

There are mixed opinions out there about Christmas music being played before Thanksgiving. Last Friday, for Light Up Night in the city, some local radio stations started their 24/7 holiday music through December 25. You may not know this, but being the first station in the city to go all carols is kind of a big deal. I was lucky a few years back to be working in radio and experience the weird excitement surrounding "flipping the switch". High fives, hugs, cheers, the only thing missing was Buddy the Elf telling everyone "You did it. Great job everybody!"

Now I am stuck. I started something I don't think I can finish but luckily there are only a few hours left before I can, without guilt, immerse myself in the songs of the season. Maybe we need musicians to start recording Thanksgiving hits for people to enjoy, in lieu of carols, until Black Friday? I already have a few titles picked out, The Little Drumstick Joy, I'll Be Home For Leftovers, Carol of The Belch. Now, I've gone too far.

Bring on the carols 2016