|Donald J. Trump (@realDonaldTrump)|
|6/9/17, 3:54 AM
Great reporting by @foxandfriends and so many others. Thank you!
Download the Twitter app
‘Twas the day before Christmas with things all a bustle.
As mama got set for the Christmas Eve tussle.
Aunts, uncles and cousins would soon be arriving
With stomachs all ready for Christmas Eve dining.
While I sat alone with a feeling of dread,
As visions of lutefisk danced in my head.
The thought of the smell made my eyeball start burning,
The thought of the taste set my stomach to churning,
For I’m one of those who good Norwegians rebuff,
A Scandahoovian boy who can’t stand the stuff!
Each year, however, I played at the game
To spare mama & papa the undying shame.
I must bear up bravely, I can’t take the risk
Of relatives knowing I hate lutefisk.
I know they would spurn me, my presents withhold
If the unthinkable, unspeakable truth they were told.
Then out in the yard, I heard such a clatter;
I jumped up to see what was the matter.
There in the snow, all in a jumble,
Three of my uncles had taken a tumble.
My aunts, as usual gave what for,
And soon they were up and through the door.
Then with talk and more cheer, an hour was passed
As mama finished the Christmas repast.
From out in the kitchen, an odor came stealing
That fairly set my senses to reeling.
The smell of lutefisk crept down the hall
And wilted a a plant, in a pot on the wall.
The others reacted as though they were smitten,
While the aroma laid low my poor helpless kitten.
Uncles Oscar and Lars said, ‘Oh, that smells yummy,’
And Kermit’s eyes glittered while he patted his tummy.
The scent skipped on the ceiling and bounced of the floor
And the bird in the cuckoo fell to the floor.
Mama announced dinner by ringing a bell;
They pushed to the table with a yump and a yell.
I lifted my eyes to heaven and sighed,
And a rose on the wallpaper withered and died.
With leaded legs I found my chair
And sat in silence with an unseeing stare.
Most of the food was already in place;
There remained only to fill the lutefisk’s space.
Then mama came proudly with a bowl on a trivet,
You would have thought the crown jewels were in it.
She placed it carefully down and took her seat,
And papa said grace before we would eat.
It seemed to me, with my whirling head,
The shortest prayer he’d ever said.
Then mama lifted the cover on the steaming dish
And I was face to face with that quivering fish.
‘Me first,’ I heard Uncle Kermit call,
While I watched the paint peel of the wall.
The plates were passed for papa to fill;
I waited, in agony, between fever and chill.
He would dip in the spoon and hold it up high;
It oozed onto the plate, I thought I would die.
Them came my plate and to my fevered brain
There seemed enough lutfisk to derail a train.
It looked like a mountain of congealing glue;
Oddly transparent, yet discolored in hue.
With butter and cream sauce I tried to conceal it;
I salted and peppered, but the smell would reveal it.
I drummed up my courage, I tried to be bold.
Mama reminds me to eat before it gets cold.
I decided to face it, ‘uff da,’ I sighed;
‘Uff da, indeed,’ my stomach replied.
Then I summoned that resolve for which our breed’s known.
My hand took the fork as with a mind of its own.
And with reckless abandon that lutfisk I ate,
Within twenty seconds I’d cleaned up my plate.
Uncle Kermit flashed me an ear to ear grin,
As butter and cream sauce dripped from his chin.
Then, to my great shock, he whispered in my ear,
‘I’m sure glad this is over for another year!’
It was then I learned a great and wonderful truth,
That Swedes and Norwegians, from old men to youth,
Must each pay their dues to have the great joy
Of being known as a good Scandahoovian boy.
And so to you all, as you face the great test,
Happy Christmas to you, and to you all my best!
Before there was a Saint, from Ireland,
there was a man named, Patrick.
This was of course, several hundred’s of years ago. Way back before WiFi, VOIP objects, internet connectivity and even before,
‘wet blankets over smoldering fires.’
Norwegian’s call such a time referenced in this manner,
“Once Upon a Time…”.
Patrick, an administrator of a single party party political system, was already having a difficult problem finding food for his under-fed people, the Irish.
Seems a great migration of Norwegian’s had moved in (illegal immigrants) seeking the warmer climate of Ireland. These northern invader’s thrived as social creatures when no longer confined to a warm fire and the confines of a cabin. Ireland was dwarfed by the great numbers of these sun-loving, thrill seeking, ox ear head dressed and property values tanked. Food was also in short supply. Demand was rising for Political and consumer based solution.
These new inhabitants, (Norwegians) had made all of the local Pub’s, change into bar room fight scenes, as the Norwegian’s fought and then ate them out of business. These Norse invaders drank all of the milk, ale, cheese and potable water to be found on this green isle. Their appetites were enormous and shortages in all the items of daily Irish consumption began to appear.
By this time, the Norwegians had eaten nearly everything caught from the sea.
The Irish were reduced to a diet of potatoes.
At an appropriated time, Patrick addressed an organization known as, The IRA. A powerful committee of this organization, called, ‘RIPNI.’ (Rid Ireland of the Pesky Norwegian Invaders) formed as was given absolute power(s) with the mission to solve Ireland’s woes, with respect to Norwegian ‘challenges’.
Patrick’s presentation captured a majority of the IRA memberships attention and he had seemingly unlimited power in this matter.
Mobilizing swiftly, The RIPNI began sabotaging all of the power plants where the Norwegians refrigerated their food. The RIPNI thinking was,
Turning off the refrigeration would spoil the fish and force the Norwegians to return to a colder climate where the fish would not spoil.
The fish spoiled, tis true. But everyone knows Norwegians thrive on spoiled fish.
Faced with failure, the RIPNI snuck into the spoiled fish warehouses and sprinkled the smelly spoiled fish with “lye”. Certain that such treatment would poison the Norwegians.
As if by magic, the Norwegians survived this concoction and actually dubbed this recipe. “Lutefisk”
Matters worsened as the Norsemen began taking over the remnants of a mediocre potato crop with the production of, “Lefse”.
Patrick, vexed and distraught, on March 17th finally, blew his top and told the Norwegians to go to, Hell!
Surprisingly, this actually worked!
All the Norwegians left and moved to Minnesota.
Patrick, a catholic, was made a Saint, by the Pope.
History records that Patrick became, Saint Patrick.
Of course history now tells a different story.
Does the reader really believe that Minnesota has 10,000 lakes?
I have an ‘old’ Tom Corwin story to relate.
Tom was an exceptional inspirational genius from Ohio that glorified the 19th century age, that he lived in.
Long before my own ‘Three score and nine’ years of ‘Liberals and Conservatives’, Tom was a candidate for Congress at the time of anti slavery was becoming acute and the Abolitionists, blessed with growing in numbers, were still to weak to elect candidates at the polls. Tom who was, “Swart as Othello”, as a candidate for Congress, was asked by an eager, perhaps malicious, wily inquisitor, in a crowded room, bellowing loudly,
“Are you in favor of a law permitting colored people to eat at the same tables as white folks in hotels and steamboats?”
Tom Corbin, also known as, ‘Wagon Boy, or ‘Black Tom’, (swart – above implies a dark complexion) did not follow the Scriptural injection:
“Let your communication be Yea, yea; Nay, nay.”
That was too concise and direct for his purposes. For example; Should he answer,”Yea” all the pro slavery voters would be cast against him. Should he answer, “Nay” the Abolitionists would defeat him.
So, Tom responded,
“Fellow Citizens, I submit that it is improper to ask that question of a gentleman of my color!”
The crowd delirious with delight, yelled itself hoarse and the “Wagon Boy” carried the day and the election, serving terms in both the House of Representatives and the United States Senate.
Donald Trump is like this Tom Corwin, a person with wit and humor, political savvy, THINKING ON HIS FEET. A person that can help us,
“Make America Great Again!”<
Filoli is closed until Tuesday, February 7, 2017. Please join us when we reopen.
- William Bowers Bourn and Sarah Chase Bourn
- William Bowers Bourn II and Agnes Moody Bourn
- The Bourns Build Filoli
- William Matson and Lillie Low Matson
- Lurline Matson Roth and William P. Roth
- The Roths at Filoli
Lurline Matson Roth & William P. Roth
After Lurline was born, Captain Matson did not command a ship again, but the family often traveled on the Matson ships to Hawaii, staying there for a month or more at a time. During one of these trips, Lillie and Lurline created the Matson Navigation Company flag from old signal flag pieces; the design is a circle with a large “M” surrounded by seven stars depicting the seven ships then in the fleet.
Captain Matson continued to expand the Matson Navigation Company, initiating the first ship with electricity, the first with cold storage, the first with a radio, and the first powered by steam. He was one of the founders of the Honolulu Oil Corporation.
The family bought a house near Mills College where they spent summers, and they would rent a house in San Francisco for the winter months. Lurline commuted to the city with her father to attend Miss Hamlin’s, a private girl’s school, studying music and art. Captain Matson valued Lurline as a companion and confidante even when she was a child. He loved horses, was an accomplished rider, and often took Lurline to horse auctions and amateur trotting races.
Although indulgent, Lurline remembers her father as “strict and straight-laced.” In 1913 when Lurline met Bill Roth, a young stockbroker in Honolulu, Captain Matson was very much against the match and delayed the engagement, sending Lurline and Lillie abroad. But Lurline persisted, and she and William Roth were married in 1914. Bill Roth sold his brokerage business and went to work as a secretary for Matson Navigation Company in San Francisco. He worked to advance and was named secretary-treasurer in 1916.
In October 1916, Captain William Matson died at age 67. After his death, Bill Roth was named general manager and vice president of Matson Navigation Company.
Bill and Lurline lived in San Francisco. Their son, William Matson Roth, was born in September 1916. Identical twins, Lurline and Berenice, named for their mother’s first and middle names, were born in 1921.
In 1924 Lillie Low Matson purchased Why Worry Farm in Woodside for her daughter’s family as a summer home and lived with them until her death. Why Worry Farm was a comfortable place for the family and had ample acreage and stabling for Mrs. Roth’s horses.
Mrs. Roth started a “show stable” buying a five-gaited horse, a three-gaited horse, a Standardbred road horse, a Hackney horse, a Hackney pony and a jumper and hired a trainer. She competed her horses nationally every year, except during World War II when she devoted most of her time to Red Cross work. Lurline’s favorites were the stallion “Chief of Longview,” a gift from her mother in 1925 and considered the greatest show horse of all time, and “Sweetheart on Parade,” a mare who was the winner of two consecutive world championships, purchased a few years later. Both were five-gaited American Saddlebred horses.
During the 1920s, the Matson Navigation Company, under Edward Tenney as President and Bill Roth as Vice President, expanded significantly, acquiring subsidiary companies, building super-freighters and building the 16-story Matson Building in San Francisco. The first of the Matson’s hotels was built in 1927 – The Royal Hawaiian.
After Tenney’s death in 1927, Bill Roth was named President. In the 1930s, under Roth’s leadership, the Company built its fleet of luxury cruise ships and expanded into the hotel business in Hawaii. Four luxury passenger ships – the Malolo (later christened the Matsonia), Mariposa, Monterey and Lurline – were added to the fleet. New hotels – the Surfrider, Moana and the Princess Kailani – were built by the Matson Company. (These hotels were sold to the Sheraton Corporation in 1955.)
Open: Tuesday — Sunday
beginning Tuesday, February 7, 2017
General Admission: Adults $20
Seniors $17 (65 & older)
Children $10 (ages 5–17)
86 Cañada Road, Woodside, CA 94062
© Copyright 2016, Filoli. All Rights Reserved.
FILOLI — Fight for a just cause. Love your fellow man. Live a good life. —WB Bourn II