Adirondack Mountain area

Pictures of some animals found in the Adirondack mountains. The picture below is Lake Placid, I believe. In the background of the top picture you can see White Face Mountain. There are many lakes in the area and this became a place for treatment of tuberculosis. The air is cooler, dryer and less polluted than in the cities where tuberculosis became prevalent.
Please excuse the picture taking.

Edward Trudeau, M.D. was a physician from NYC in the late 1800s who was affected by a death from Tuberculosis of a close relative. Tuberculosis was a major cause of death at the time. He had heard of a M.D. in Europe who was using fresh air to help cure his patients and so he decided to open up a practice in the Saranac Lake area to treat this disease.

People rented out their homes and cottages around the lake and patients were placed in glass enclosed porches where they were given lots of fresh air, sunshine, and good nourishment. When author, Robert Louis Stevenson came down with T.B. he rented a cottage in Saranac and Doctor Trudeau was his physician. He did improve and left the cold climate, which he hated. I have read that today they are not sure if he had T.B. or something else, like bronchiectasis, but at that time I believe there was no question.

Today the Trudeau Institute is still in the Saranac area and does research on not only Tuberculosis, but other respiratory illnesses. We were fortunate to happen upon the institute while driving near the lake.

The cottage where Stevenson lived, wrote, and was treated for tuberculosis (shown in previous blog) is now a museum holding some of the author's belongings and books.

When driving to Saranac Lake you can see many little cottages that were used for the treatment of tuberculosis at that time. They were called "cure cottages." I was told that people could be seen walking around with masks over their faces and there were strict rules about wearing them and about spitting. This form of treatment did "cure" many people and was used until the discovery of Streptomycin.

Robert Louis Stevenson

While on a trip to the Saranac Lake, Lake Placid area a few years back, I came across a small frame house that had been made into a museum for author, Robert Louis Stevenson who wrote such endearing stories as Treasure Island, A Child's Garden of Verses, Kidnapped and the Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

Mr. Stevenson had spent some time at this place when he was diagnosed with tuberculosis. The Saranac area was a well known place to treat tuberculosis at the time, before the modern medications.

It was told to us, by the owner of the museum, that he did not like the cold weather and could not wait to go visit his friend in Tahiti, the famous artist, Gauguin.

There was some dispute, at the time we visited here, whether his things should be allowed to stay here or put into a more modern and apparently safer place in another building in the town, so this place might not exist any longer. But, wherever his things are stored, it is worthwhile to go see it as some of his original books were among them.

New England

The weather is gradually cooling off as September progresses and today was a New England sort of day. There was a beautiful, fresh breeze. My daughters and I ended up eating at a favorite place that has become very popular since its opening and has an attached outdoor cafe/porch .
Long ago I wrote a little poem (well, kinda) about New England. Here it is:

New England Village

by

Annabelle Ambrosio

Twinkling lights distant

Surrounded by greenery

How proudly hold your heads

For all to see.

Above you rests a sky of blue,

All clean, and clear, and

grandly new.

Awake in me my vital breath,

So I may catch your glory left.

Of years gone by,

America great,

The land on which our

Forfathers spake.

Fill my lungs so I may give

Life to those who after me may live.

Speaking of New England, I've been watching some CDs of Murder She Wrote. They were wonderful t.v. shows of Jessica Fletcher, the mystery writer who resided in Cabot Cove. They are a real classic.

Bye for now.

Mirror Image Twins

I've recently finished and sent in for consideration a story where the hero is a mirror image twin. The mirror image twin occurs in about 25% of the twin cases. They are identical twins, where the DNA is the same, but there may be some small differences, such as left handed and right handedness. This occurs because the split in the fertilized egg came late, usually about nine to twelve days.
The reason I became interested in this was because I once saw someone who looked so much like someone I knew I could hardly believe it was not the same person. However, it was not the same person and in the back of my mind I thought they must have been twins. This sparked an idea for a story and so I began to put it together. Ideas are all around us and now I have another one I'm working on. Have to get busy.

9-11. Today, the nation hangs its head in prayer. Years ago I wrote a little poem that I felt at the time and would like to share it with you.

Free

by

Annabelle Ambrosio

As I lay beneath my oak tree,

And gazed into the sky,

How peaceful was my home life,

No troubles, thought I.

The nails held down my shutters,

The chimney worked all right,

All was "peace" and secure,

Through the stillness of the night.

Then along came my neighbor,

And warned me of a plight,

"They're chewing beneath your foundation,

Working quietly with all their might."

The sounds, the signs, were only foolishness,

I told him with triumph,

No great threat to my fine home,

Of love, and peace, and warmth.

I could not be bothered to look for them,

Or protect my foundation more,

For the windows were down,

The glass was clean,

And I had shut the door.

So today I lie here gazing,

Beneath my old oak tree,

Out toward my shaky timbers,

My home that was "Brave and Free."

And I wonder why I hadn't seen them,

Hadn't heard their cries,

As they were chewing my foundation,

Beneath my very eyes.

The Drawing Board of Life

Transitions and backstory. Transitions in a story should be smooth and backstories should be filtered in gradually, to make for easy reading. How much of life can we say is a smooth transition? We hurry here and there, seldom thinking of how we go from one thing to another. If we have been trained well while growing up or are pragmatic by nature, we might have every bit of our lives planned out, preferably on paper. The backstories of our lives, hopefully, are where they're supposed to be-in the background. But, as in a story, a little bit filters in today, a little tomorrow. The pieces of our background affect the stories of our lives, like the imaginary characters we have written. The background of our characters make them who they are. The more they are planned out, the easier it is to write the story. I usually begin a story with an idea, then work on the characters. I have only done a real outline of two stories I've written, but suprisingly found they were the easiest to write in the long run.
The children here were excited to go back to school and see their friends again. They had new haircuts, new shoes, clothes, washed and pressed, baths taken the night before and they fell asleep early. Up and eager to go in the morning. Now, after a couple days, they stayed awake longer the night before and woke up with more difficulty. It took longer to get dressed and out of the door. What happened to the transitions? They weren't smooth. And maybe we need to go over the backstory .