“Mix sand with the paint,” said a painter. Wrong. The paint still cracked and got filthy because it shredded any cleaning cloth. I presented my problem at our local hardware store guru, brandishing a brochure showing a glistening painted wooden porch. “Why can’t ours look like this?”  With the Buddha-like calm which the profession entails, he said somberly, “Ma’am, if you want grandma’s front porch, you’re married to the project.”

Ah. To be a tad less married, I had composite material stairs put in and a ADA-approved handrail installed (you never know). Painters do the painting, I sweep and rinse regularly and a few times a year wash down the whole, a tedious but meditative project. I’ve had a painted front porch now more than half the years we’ve been married. Of course being married to a good person of whichever or the same sex has, not to put too fine a point on it, many more advantages than being married to a painted porch. But  I have to say that on a sunny summer day, a freshly washed porch is very nice.

Just the facts: Managers had locked the doors to prevent pilfering and authorized exits, a common practice at the time. When fire broke out, the trapped workers, mostly children and young women,  leaped from the 8th, 9th, and 10th floor windows. Most  died. It is the fourth largest industrial tragedy of this country, and the second largest in NYC until 2001. It is good to remember the labors of unions, particularly the ILGWU, OSHA and groups like Jobs with Justice that work so hard for worker safety. The list is from the University of Missouri, Kansas City pages on the tragedy. The images of the last four identified victims (not in the list below) are from the New York Times, “100 Years Later, the Roll of the Dead in a Factory Fire is Complete,” February 20, 2011.

Aberstein, Julia, 30
Adler, Lizzie, 24
Altman, Anna, 16
Ardito, Anna, 25
Astrowsky, Becky, 20
Bassino, Rosie, 31
Belatta, Vincenza, 16
Bellotta, Ignazia, Father identified by heel of shoe.
Benanti, Vincenza, 22
Bernstein, Essie, 19
Bernstein, Jacob, 28
Bernstein, Morris, 19
Bernstein, Moses
Bierman, Gussie, 22, Parents complained body stripped of rings.
Binevitz, Abraham, 20
Brenman, Rosie
Brenman, Surka (Sarah)
Brodsky, Ida, 16
Brodsky, Sarah, 21
Brooks, Ida, 18
Brunette, Laura, 17
Caputta, 17
Carlisi, Josep, 31
Caruso, Albina, 20
Carutto, Frances, 17
Castello, Josie, 21
Cirrito, Rosie
Cohen, Anna, 25
Colletti, Antonia (Annie). 30
Costello, Della
Crepo, Rose. 19
Denent, Grances, 20
Dichtenhultz (Fichtenhultz), Yetta, 18
Dockman (Dochman), Dora (Clara), 19
Dorman, K, Identified by registered letter.
Downic, Kalman, 24
Eisenberg, Celia, 17
Feibush, Rose
Feicisch (Feibish), Rebecca, 17, Died at hospital after jumping.
Feltzer, 40
Fitze, Mrs. Dosie Lopez, 24, Survived jump for day, then died.
Forrester, May, 25
Franco, Jennie, 16
Frank, Tina, 17
Gallo, Mrs. Mary, 23
Geib, Bertha, 25
Gernstein, Molly, 17
Gittlin, Celina, 17
Goldfield, Esther
Goldstein, Esther
Goldstein, Lena, 22
Goldstein, Mary, 11
Goldstein, Yetta, 20
Gorfield, Esther, 22
Grameattassio, Mrs. Irene, 24
Harris, Esther, 21, Broke back coming down elevator chute.
Herman, Mary, 40
Jakobowski, Ida
Kaplan (woman), 20
Kenowitch, Ida, 18
Keober, 30
Kessler, Becky, Tag read, “B Kessler, call for her tomorrow.”
Klein, Jacob, 23
Kupla, Sara, Jumped.  Survived five days after fire.
Launswold, Fannie, 24
Lefkowitz, Nettie, 28
Lehrer, Max, 19
Lehrer, Sam
Leone, Kate, 14
Lermack, Rosie D., 19
Leventhal, Mary, 22, Identified by gold-capped tooth.
Levin, Jennie, 19, Attractive woman who died with folded arms
Levine, Abe
Levine, Max
Levine, Pauline, 19
Maltese, Catherine, Mother of two victims below.
Maltese, Lucia, 20, One of three bodies identified by her brother.
Maltese, Rosalie(Rosari), 14
Manara, Mrs. Maria, 27
Manofsky, Rose, 22, Died at Bellevue Hospital.
Marciano, Mrs. Michela, 25
Mayer, Minnie
Meyers, Yetta, 19
Miale, Bettina,18, Identified by ring on her finger.
Miale, Frances, 21
Midolo, Gaetana, 16
Nebrerer, Becky, 19
Nicholas, Annie, 18
Nicolose, Nicolina  (Michelina)
Novobritsky, Annie, 20
Nussbaum (Nausbaum),  Sadie, 18, Lower half of body consumed by flame.
Oberstein, Julia, 19
Oringer, Rose, Died at St. Vincent’s Hospital.
Ozzo, Carrie, 22
Pack, Annie, 18
Panno, Mrs. Providenza, 48
Pasqualicca, Antonietta, 16
Pearl, Ida, 20
Pildescu, Jennie, 18
Pinello, Vincenza, 30
Poliny, Jennie, 20
Prato, Millie, 21
Reivers, Becky, 19
Rootstein, Emma
Robinowitz, Abraham
Rosen, Israel, 17, Sister identified body by ring.
Rosen, Julia (widow), 35, $842 found in her stocking.
Rosen, Mrs. Leob,, 38
Rosenbaum, Yetta, 22
Rosenberg, Jennie, 21
Rosenfeld, Gussie, 22
Rosenthal, Nettie, 21
Rother, R., 25
Rother, Theodore, 22
Sabasowitz, Sarah, 17
Salemi, Sophie, 24, Identified by a darn in her stocking.
Saracino, Sara
Saracino, Serafina, 25
Saracino, Tessie, 20
Schiffman, Gussie, 18
Schmidt, Mrs. Theresa, 32
Schneider, Mrs. Ethel
Schochep, Violet, 21
Schwartz, Margaret, Named victim in criminal case.
Selzer, Jacob, 33
Semmilio, Mrs. Annie, 30
Shapiro, Rosie, 17
Shena, Catherine, 30
Sklaver, Berel (Sklawer,  Bennie), 25
Sorkin, Rosie, 18
Spear
Sprunt
Spunt, Gussie, 19
Starr, Mrs. Annie, 30
Stein, Jennie, 18
Stellino, Jennie, 16
Stiglitz, Jennie, 22
Tabick, Samuel, 18
Terdanova (Terranova),  Clotilde, 22, Only victim to die on tenth floor; jumped.
Tortorella, Isabella, 17
Ullo, Mary, 20
Utal, Meyer, 23
Velakowsky,  Freda(Freida), 20, Survived jump for 3 days, then died.
Vivlania, Bessie, 15
Vovobritsky, Annie, 20
Weinduff, Sally, 17
Weiner, Rose, 23
Weintraub, Sally (Sarah?), 17
Weintraub, Celia
Welfowitz, Dora, 21
Wilson, Joseph, 21, Found by fiance; to have been wed in June.
Wisner, Tessie, 27
Wisotsky, Sonia, 17
Wondross, Bertha
Zeltner, 30, Died of internal injuries at St. Vincent’s.

1. Those lush and heavy pompadour hair style of the early 1900′s were plumped by folding the hair around wadded cotton or horsehair appealingly called “rats.”

2. The heavy post-Victorian hats were held on the above mentioned hair extravaganzas with hat pins as log as your (or my) arm. Some hats included stuffed birds.

3. In the early 1900′s only one in eight Americans finished high school.

4. Vaudeville theaters (figure heavily in my novel) had shows that ran continuously through the day, rather like our moving houses, but with live performers.

5. Anxious to attract a family audience, many vaudeville troupes invited Sunday School directors to view the show and give their approval of “wholesome entertainment.”

6. The 60′s hit “I’m Henery the Eighth” was a 1910 hit first. Who knew?

7. Passenger pigeons used to make flocks that were 300 miles long, darkening the sky.

8. In researching the age of the term “pony tail” I discovered that a recent U.K. research team has done mathematical modeling to predict the shape of a pony tail (a human’s pony tail) based on “various factors”. Why?

9. Cleveland, Ohio was once the second largest producer of women’s clothes.

10. The 50 hour work week was once a fond dream of American workers. Many said it would never happen. Unions thought otherwise.

11. Women earned half to two-thirds of men’s salary for the same work. Of course now we’re at 77%  . . . so history doesn’t advance on all fronts.

Panna cotta is a flan pared to essentials: cream, sugar, gelatin, vanilla, a bit of water. But it’s lovely, can sit, in fact likes to sit a day or two in the refrigerator, bothering nobody. Dressed up with a berry sauce (spiked, if you like), it’s lovely. You can make it in five minutes, the sauce another five. Then go back to your whatever you’re doing (in my case, finishing chapter 10). So . . .

Panna Cotta (8 custard cups)

2 C heavy cream, 2 C half and half.
1/2 C sugar
2 tsp vanilla extract
2 packets gelatin & 6 T cold water

Spray the inside of the cups with light oil if you are wanting to unmold the panna cotta for serving. Soften the gelatin in the cold water for about 10 minutes. Meanwhile heat the cream and sugar until the sugar is dissolved. Remove from heat and add vanilla. At that point, distressed by web comments of the panna cotta separating because the gelatin was put in too soon, I chilled the pan for 2 minutes by sitting it on ice. Not sure that’s necessary. Then whisk in the gelatin until the mixture is completely smooth. Divide in the cups. Cool to room temperature! Put the cups in the refrigerator. Recipes vary then, advising 4 to 10 hours of chilling. We tried at 10 and it was good, but very, very slightly grainy. The next evening even better. Unmold if you like. Dipping the cups briefly in hot water may help, and/or running a sharp knife around the edge but ours unmolded no problem. Add berry sauce. Enjoy yourself.

Berry sauce with Grand Marnier

I pkg. frozen raspberries or mixed berries
2 tsp. sugar
2 tsp. corn starch
bit of lemon juice, dash of Grand Marnier (or other orange liquer)

Heat the berries until bubbling with sugar. Thicken: put a bit of juice in a small bowl with the corn starch, mix until smooth, add back, bring to boil. Remove from heat, cool slightly, add lemon and Grand Marnier. Let sit until room temperature. You will be happy.

I believe it was Sara herself whom we saw when we came in, talking to an older gentleman who suffered from reduced lucidity and mobility. He was going on at some length about his troubles. Sara leaned close to hear him and said several times: “Hon, you just tell me what you need and I’ll do it.” Our waitress, a teenager who loves basketball and hates computers (“I bet you never heard a teenager say that”) means to go to community college for her associates, then U. of Florida to begin her journey to ob-gyn. “It’s what I always wanted.” I’m sure she’ll get it.

We’d been looking for some time for a place to eat and put off by the last few establishments’ odd couplings: “Chainsaws and hot dogs,” said one. “Milk shakes. American owned.” Then you find Florala, a lovely little town of deep porches, huge trees and a wide, wide lake of the state park. Stop at Sara’s Big R. You’ll be glad you did.

We fly the Italian peace flag (“pace” being Italian for “peace”). And we  have a hot tub. She must  think we have modified the rainbow flag with a reminder to pace out our debaucheries. The distressing thing is that while we try to be sociable and really do have a fair number of gatherings here, nobody has invited us to these drunken bashes. Most of our festivities (the ones we’ve attended) are fairly tranquil. Now we’ve drained the hot tub for the summer and where will our fictive friends go? What will they do? What will our neighbor’s neighbor do when all there is to watch in our backyard is zucchini and tomatoes growing and peaches ripening, waiting for squirrels to eat them?

Then, being of a writerly mind, I got curious about the phrase itself. Just now, when I should be novel-writing, I poked around and discovered that “He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother” is an example (as you all doubtless know) of the figure of speech called the paraprosdokian: a structure in which the second part of the line invites re-interpretation of the first part.

The indefatigable Wikipedia offers us time-wasters other examples of the paraprosdokian:

He was at his best when the going was good.” —Alistair Cooke on the Duke of Windsor

You can always count on the Americans to do the right thing—after they have tried everything else.” — Winston Churchill

“A modest man, who has much to be modest about.” — again (reputedly) Winston Churchill

I’ve had a perfectly wonderful evening, but this wasn’t it.” — Groucho Marx

“She looks as though she’s been poured into her clothes, and forgot to say ‘when’.” — P.G Wodehouse 

Do you have any paraprosdokians to share so we can all waste more time in harmless enjoyment of the English language?

Tenderness of the scalp and spine . . . teeth and gums, tenderness of the whole body, general or local itching, vague pains and flying neuralgias, tremulous and variable pulse, special idiosyncrasies in regard to food, medicine, and external irritants, sensitivities to changes in the weather, profound exhaustion unaccompanied by pain, ticklishness, desire for stimulants and narcotics, partial failure of memory, mental depression and general timidity, morbid fears of special kinds, as agoraphobia and aacraphobia [fear of lightening], sick headache, disturbances of the nerves and organs of special senses, local chills and flashes.

And so forth. One solution, recommended by Dr. John Harvey Kellogg of Battle Creek Sanitarium, was to eat a lot of cereals, especially granola or, better yet, his new corn flakes. I myself will continue eating granola in the morning.

He’s on his feet by the time I turn out the light and leads me, or so it seems, to the kitchen. He looks in, looks up, ever hopeful. The message, I believe, is that even in our largely vegetarian household I just might feel moved to cook up a large midnight steak and give it to him. Could happen. It never does, but he always stops at the kitchen. He takes me to the front door so he can take  his toilette among the perennials. Then, constantly looking back to make sure I’m following, he leads the way upstairs and to our respective beds. Whether the day’s output was a hundred or a thousand words, or only the polishing of extant phrases, Jesse brings a comforting closure.