A Secular Season of the Fish

Partway through last year’s Lenten season, I decided that I no longer wanted to support the Catholic (or any other) Church by patronizing their Friday Fish Fries. I explain that decision at the end of Another Season of the Fish. I still like fish and therefore still like fish fries and I am more than happy to support the many non-religious organizations that take advantage of the season by operating their own piscatorial-powered fundraisers.

Between the first and second weeks of Lent 2024, I discovered a Cincinnati Fish Fry app, similar to the one I recently used for Inaugural Cincinnati Chili Week. My unaudited count of the listed sites identified 54 churches, 16 commercial operations, and 17 others. The “others”, of course, were my targets.

I began the 2024 season at American Legion Post 513 in Mt. Healthy, Ohio, where catfish and cod were both available. I went with the catfish. This tasty meal was $11 plus $2.25 for the Yuengling draft.

The second week’s fish was a bit more expensive than last week’s but the meal included one of the biggest pieces of cod I have ever seen. Everything in the picture plus a piece of chocolate cake was $17 at Cincinnati Shriner’s.

Plans for the evening ruled out a week three fish fry dinner so I decided to do lunch at a place I’ve frequently thought of visiting in the past. This is the McDonald’s location where the first filet-o-fish sandwich was served. It is also Ohio’s first McDonald’s and my only stop at a commercial restaurant this year. Although the location was listed in the Cincinnati Fish Fry app, the app refused to let me check in here. That original filet-o-fish sold for 29¢. My tab was $9.48 but I did get fries and a drink.

My second Americal Legion visit this year was at Post 318 in Anderson Township, Ohio. The pie added $2.50 to the total. Without it, my only baked fish (cod) meal of the season would have been an even $12 including the drink (iced tea).

Week number five had me venturing across a state line to the Wilder Fire Department in Wilder, Kentucky. Fish, shrimp, and chicken were available with no options other than white or rye bread (which I declined). The entire meal, including the green (because it was almost Saint Patrick’s Day) beer and an unphotographed piece of cake with green (because… you know) icing, was $14.

For the second week in a row, I was in Kentucky and drinking Bud Light. Last week’s green Bud was only $1. This week’s yellow Bud was $2. The rest of the meal at Newport Elks Lodge #273 was $13 and it just might be the best of the year.

Lent officially ends on the Thursday preceding Good Friday. Many institutions wrap up their fish fry operations before the Easter weekend is reached but enough don’t to make a seven-week season of fish easily accomplished. I finished my 2024 seven-week run with this $12 meal at Gaily VFW Post 7340. Food is ordered at a central location then hand-delivered so you need to find a seat before ordering to supply a table number. A couple sitting alone welcomed me to their table. A lady in a wheelchair soon occupied the spot to my left and she was immediately greeted by several locals who were delighted to see her. I never did catch her name but learned that she was 100 years old then learned through personal experience just how peppy and friendly she was. She told me she had been coming to the post since its founding in the 1950s. I admitted that this was my first time there but promised to come back to see her next year. Now I have something to look forward to.

Happy Imbolc (Again/Exact/Maybe)

One of the few details I remember from Tracy Kidder’s 1981 The Soul of a New Machine is the note that one of the engineers left behind when, frustrated by nanosecond timing issues in the computer they were designing, he simply took off. The note read, “I’m going to a commune in Vermont and will deal with no unit of time shorter than a season.”

What a wonderful idea. Problems seem to just naturally appear in dealing with time shorter than a season even when the time in question is much longer than a nanosecond. There is a problem of sorts in simply measuring a season. Something that I must have known but which did not really register with me until recently is that not all seasons are equal. And by seasons, I mean the periods between solstices and equinoxes. A simplified explanation is that Earth moves around the sun in an ellipse rather than a circle and that it travels faster relative to the sun when it is closer to it. I was reminded of this when I tried to calculate the time and date of Imbolc and realized that dividing an exact fourth of a year in half just didn’t work. The actual lengths are approximately 90 days for spring and autumn, 94 days for summer, and 89 days for winter. Yeah, that doesn’t add up to 365 days but throwing in the word “approximately” makes it OK.

When I spoke of calculating the time and date of Imbolc, I meant the point halfway between winter solstice and spring equinox. I suppose I should quit calling it that. Even though Imbolc may have originally been linked to that point, many who celebrate it have more or less attached it to the calendar date February 1. Same thing with Saint Brigid’s Day. Similarly, Candlemas and Groundhog Day have been nailed to February 2 even though they too were once associated more tightly with winter’s midpoint. Of course, even before they were detached from astronomy and attached to calendar dates, these were seen as holidays rather than instants. Back when humans first started recognizing solstices and equinoxes and points halfway between them, they were no doubt happily dealing with no unit of time shorter than a day.

I first wished the world Happy Imbolc in 2016 then repeated it in 2023. Those posts used a photo of a sign at Gobbler’s Knob taken on my only Punxsutawny Phil visit. This time it’s a picture of Howdy Doody and Princess Summerfall Winterspring which I think fits better with all that talk of seasons.

By my calculation, the instant halfway between the most recent winter solstice and the next spring equinox is 10:47 on February 4, 2024. I am not 100% certain that is accurate and I’m not even sure what I should call it if it is. But it’s all I’ve got and, since it is a mere 4 hours and 47 minutes after this blog’s normal weekly posting time of 6:00 AM, I have decided to synchronize this week’s post with that cosmic event.

Happy Winter’s Midpoint! We’ve made it halfway.

Trip Peek #129
Trip #158
Finding (More Of) It Here

This picture is from my 2019 Finding (More Of) It Here Christmas Escape Run. As I’ve explained, the sequence in which Trip Peeks are used is random but the timing of their use is a function of need. A common time of need is when I’m traveling and busy maintaining a trip journal. Even with all that randomness, Trip Peeks sometimes seem quite appropriate which is the case now when I need to use one because I’m in the middle of a Christmas Escape Run and what pops up is an earlier Christmas Escape Run. Christmas Escape Runs are trips I started taking in 2006 to avoid some of the holiday madness. In 2015, Ohio adopted the slogan “Ohio, find it here”, and I used it as the basis of the title of my 2016 all-Ohio Christmas Escape Run. It got reused, with the addition of a couple of words, when I set out on another all-Ohio run in 2019 and took this picture of some of the many nutcrackers in Steubenville. Although It has nothing to do with this post or the trip it peeks at, I’m happy to report that Ohio returned to the much cooler (IMO) “Ohio, the heart of it all” in 2023.

The picture was taken in the Nutcracker Village in Steubenville, the trip’s first stop. From there I headed north to spend Christmas and chase covered bridges in and around the fully winterized summer resort town of Geneva-on-the-Lake.


Trip Peeks are short articles published when my world is too busy or too boring for a current events piece to be completed in time for the Sunday posting. In addition to a photo thumbnail from a completed road trip, each Peek includes a brief description of that photo plus links to the full-sized photo and the associated trip journal.

Don’t Christmas My Yule

Heavens to Murgatroyd! How did I not know that? Until a few weeks ago I thought Yule was just another word for Christmas. Latin maybe. Or maybe German or Old — I mean Olde — English. Nope. The word itself is probably Norse in origin and the holiday it identifies predates Christ and Christ’s Mass by a bunch. There are many descriptions of Yule floating around and they vary quite widely but one of the things they all agree on is that Winter Solstice is involved. That’s important. It’s the thing I did not know. It’s something that distinguishes it from modern-day Christmas.

Of course, common sense and history point to a connection between Christmas and Solstice but these days no answer to the question “When is Christmas?” will contain the word Solstice. Conversely, the word Yule is used frequently in discussions of Christmas. It appears in officially designated Christmas carols and in greeting cards mailed from deeply religious homes. There are times when the words Christmas and Yule seem to be used interchangeably. That, no doubt, is why it took me three-quarters of a century to realize they are not interchangeable. One is tied to a naturally occurring planetary event. One is not.

The 12 Nights of Yule at the top of this post appears on numerous websites. I was unable to determine its origin so am unable to give credit. One of those sites is The Viking Dragon where an Origins of Yule post is quite informative. One bit I thought interesting is the fact that a King of Norway (Haakon the Good, 920–961) decreed that Yule and Christmas were to be celebrated at the same time. What better way to show the lack of a natural connection than a law arbitrarily linking them? The law also required every free man to consume a quantity of ale during the holiday which I assume is the reason that “the Good” was attached to his name.

The twelve days of observation is one of the more obvious things that the new guys copied from the old guys. The 12 Days of Yule begins the day before Solstice and runs through New Year’s Eve. The 12 Days of Christmas begins the day after Christmas and runs through January 6 which is the day associated with the arrival of the Magi or maybe Jesus’ christening. The Catholic Church calls this day Epiphany, and yes, I suppose you could use that word to describe my discovery that Yule was absolutely not another word for Christmas.


A Cosmic Reason for the Season — Reredux is this blog’s most recent previous post on the Winter Solstice. With plans to reference that post here, I looked it over and discovered that a website it linked to had disappeared. Since I thought its discussion of Solstice and Christmas a good one, I located the desired content through the WayBack Machine. fixed the existing links, and am including a direct link here. In previous Solstice-related posts, I’ve been upfront about the amount of time separating the post and the precise moment of Solstice. This year the event follows this post by 4 days 16 hours and 27 minutes.

Play Review
A Christmas Carol
Playhouse in the Park

This is less a review of a play than the reporting of one more Cincinnati Christmas tradition being checked off of my list. I seem to have gotten away with calling Cincinnati’s production of Every Christmas Story Ever Told a tradition even though its first year was just 2006. Cincinnati’s Playhouse in the Park first staged A Christmas Carol a decade and a half earlier, in 1991, so I’m sure its status as a tradition will not be questioned by anyone. What might be questioned is just how much of a reset to this tradition has just occurred, and whether or not it matters.

I don’t believe I had ever previously seen a live performance of A Christmas Carol let alone one of the beloved Playhouse in the Park performances. Although the names are the same, neither the play I saw nor its setting are the same as they were in 1991. A new main theater was built for the Playhouse last year and the annual A Christmas Carol run was put on hold while one theater was torn down and another built in its place. Some changes in the production were required because of physical differences in the stages, and the Playhouse’s artistic director, Blake Robison, took advantage of the hiatus to produce a new script. So the same Charles Dickens story of the ultimate grumpy old man being scared into a complete about-face is being told this year but the telling is not quite the same.

I obviously can’t tell you how the new compares with the old. I can tell you that the production I attended on Wednesday was spectacular in a way that could start a new tradition though I hope it will let an existing one get a new grip and continue.

That word “spectacular” applies most readily to the scenery and costumes. The onstage world looks exactly like what I’d expect a cleaned-up Dickensian world to look like. A giant clock anchors the set and also anchors the audience in stepping through the events of a long Christmas Eve. Special effects, puppets, and moving stage elements add to the sense of spectacle. When telling a story that everyone knows, the “how” really does outweigh the “what”.

Except for my comments about the new theater, pretty much everything I’ve said could be replaced with “Looks good to me” and that’s really all I’m qualified to say. For a real review, check out David Lyman’s report in the Enquirer which includes some official photos. A Christmas Carol will be at Playhouse in the Park through December 30. Go help a new tradition get started or help nudge an old one into a new phase. 

Yippee-Ki-Yule, Y’all

On Thursday, I got a double dose of holiday hoopla. The first dose was administered at Krohn Conservatory in Cincinnati’s Eden Park. The second came at Thomas More Stadium in Florence, KY.

This year’s holiday show at Krohn is called “Golden Days of Yule”. That name, coupled with my improved understanding of Yule (the subject of next week’s post), was one reason I wanted to visit Krohn this month. Another was that I realized it had been ten years since I’d seen the holiday display at the conservatory. All of my visits since 2013 were to see butterflies.

“Golden Days of Yule”, like previous holiday shows at Krohn, has lots of Cincinnati landmarks such as Music Hall in the opening photograph. All are made of locally sourced plant material and most return year after year. New this year is the National Underground Railroad Freedom Center pictured at left.

Numerous model trains travel among the landmarks and the conservatory’s normal display of plants. Even though no train has ever crossed the real John A. Roebling Suspension Bridge, this version has a double set of tracks so that a train with a Cincinnati Reds boxcar can cross it in both directions.

Other returning favorites include Union Terminal, now the Cincinnati Museum Center, and Findlay Market, which is encircled by Thomas the Train. Procter & Gamble’s Twin Towers and the Tyler Davidson Fountain, featuring The Genius of Water, appear together in the third photo although the relationship between the two is nowhere near accurate in either size or location.

It somehow makes sense that the Krohn Conservatory contains a model of the Krohn Conservatory and there might be nothing more natural for a conservatory to hold at Christmas time than a giant poinsettia tree. “Golden Days of Yule” runs through January 7 with live music on weekends.

Thomas More Stadium, on the other side of the Ohio River, is home to the Florence Y’alls Class A baseball team. Winters here are way too cold for baseball so, for the second year in a row, a skating rink and 2.5 million lights have been moved in for Deck the Y’alls.

There are lights everywhere both inside and outside the stadium. They are impressive to look at from just about anywhere but following a path through the displays at field level is the main attraction.

A family of four was near me during the early part of my walk and the youngest child asked her mother to read the lighted signs that marked each section. As soon as she heard “Dinoland”, she announced that she was not going in there. I’ve a hunch that it was what she saw and not what she heard that prompted her reluctance. The family hung back at the arch but after a few minutes, I saw them move ahead slowly. Before long they were back at their normal pace. Up close, dinosaurs made of electric lights just aren’t that scary, it seems.

And “Ornament Land” just wasn’t scary at all.

Apparently, neither was “Under the Sea” although I lost track of the family somewhere around The Blue Whale of Florence.

Here’s a sampling of the “12 Days of Christmas”. In reality, this whole post is just a sampling.  There’s a lot more here than what I’ve shown.

This is the exit. I hung back to take some pictures — and watch and learn from the people in front of me —  then passed through the maze and headed for a cup of hot coffee.

As I sipped that coffee, I captured a short overview video. Deck the Y’alls runs through New Year’s Day with fireworks on New Year’s Eve.
 
  


For anyone wondering about the team name, it comes from a water tower. The short story is that while Florence Mall was in development, a water tower advertising it was erected nearby. Because the mall did not yet actually exist, that led to some legal issues which were resolved by hastily converting the “M” to “Y'”. This was supposed to be temporary but proved so popular that it remains today even though the mall has now been in operation for decades. A fuller version of the story is here. The team was founded as the Florence Freedom in 2004 but changed its name to Y’alls in 2020.

TG ’23

At one time, possibilities for Thanksgiving dinner included an Indiana state lodge with an overnight stay and an Ohio state lodge without. I dithered just a little too long, however, and both were completely filled before I made my calls. So I hastily put together a Plan C which involved an overnight stay in a Kentucky state lodge. That ‘C’ could stand for “cave” or “Carter” or both. Carter Caves State Resort Park was my destination as I crossed the Ohio River. 

Most of the miles I drove in Kentucky were on KY‑9 which roughly parallels the Ohio River although it is usually at some distance. It’s a pretty nice-looking drive but the low morning sun and the mostly eastern bearing were no help at all in photographing the scenery. After just under a hundred miles of KY-9, Garmin had me turn south on KY-2 where the sun was less intrusive and the scenery possibly even better as the road ran along Buffalo Creek. After a few miles of KY-2, the GPS directed me onto KY-7 and then, barely a mile later, onto Sutton Road. Sutton Road soon became gravel. With my destination just a few miles away, I saw no reason for concern…

…until I reached a T. The road to the right was marked with a “DEAD END” sign. To the left was a low water bridge with not much that I could see beyond it. Garmin assured me that Carter Caves Park was just a few minutes away on the other side. While I contemplated the situation, I checked the GPS to see if it was really in “Faster” mode and not in “Shorter” or “Adventurous” mode. It was. I have gone straight ahead in similar situations in the past but on this day I wasn’t in adventurous mode either. After turning around and traveling a short distance, I could look back and see a road heading off on the other side of the stream. I was tempted but continued on the prudent path.

I entered the park about half an hour later after a drive of 20, rather than 2, miles. Even so, I was there way ahead of my scheduled dinner time and assumed it was also too early to check in. I explored the park in my car and found every possible parking spot near the lodge/restaurant filled. The feeding frenzy was in full swing. There was a reasonable mix of cars and open spaces at the visitor center so I pulled in to take a look.

Once inside, I was pleasantly surprised to find that cave tours were taking place that day and even more pleasantly surprised to learn that a tour of X‑Cave was starting in just five minutes. X‑Cave is not very large but it does have a lot of interesting formations. It gets its name from two passageways that intersect to form an ‘X’. Tours travel through one side of the ‘X’, step outside, reenter, and travel through the other side. On the first pass through the intersection, the tour guide shared the cave’s very own Daniel Boone story. It’s extra appropriate on Thanksgiving Day.

While hunting one day, Boone spotted the largest turkey he had ever seen. He inexplicably missed his first shot but saw the turkey enter the cave  He hurriedly lit a torch and followed. Reaching the underground intersection, Boone saw the turkey down one of the passageways and fired. In his haste and weak light, the frontiersman had overloaded his rifle with powder and the blast threw him backward with such force that the imprint of his foot can still be seen. The turkey was missed once again by the shot but was so badly frightened that it instantly turned to stone.

Things were still busy at the lodge but I was now able to find a parking spot. I was even able to check into my room where I relaxed until dinner time. There is a salad bar behind me and a dessert-filled table just beyond the ham carving station. I helped myself to turkey and stuffing and more but decided against the ham when I reached it. I think that was because I had also helped myself to that other traditional Thanksgiving entree, catfish, when I filled my plate. After dinner, as I again relaxed in my room, I decided to get on board with the popular Elf on a Shelf craze.


When I left the lodge on Friday, I was only slightly surprised when the GPS directed me to turn left rather than retrace the way I’d arrived. Even though the road name didn’t register immediately, it did eventually, and as Sutton Road became narrower and more gravely, I knew exactly where Garmin was leading me.

This is the other side of that low-water bridge where I turned around Thursday. On Friday, having seen both sides, I had no qualms about splashing right on through. In fact, I was quite happy to do so and erase some of the guilt I felt about not splashing through the day before.

Happy 247th

There are twenty “Underrated Attractions in Cincinnati” identified in the CityBeat article that motivated me to visit the Lucky Cat Museum last week. With that museum visit, I could count thirteen of the twenty as things I have seen. There are a few more that I will probably get to before long and a couple of others that I have little interest in. I thought it highly unlikely that I would ever experience one listed attraction despite being interested in it very much. “Stricker’s Grove“, the article said, “is closed to the public…”. It could be rented for private events but, unless I could get myself invited to somebody’s company picnic, it seemed I was out of luck.

Then, barely a week after the CityBeat article appeared, I saw another article announcing that the park would be open to the public on July 4th. I had, I now realized, stopped reading that opening sentence too soon. “Stricker’s Grove is closed to the public for most of the year”, is what it really said. It is actually open to all on a handful of days each year and Independence Day is one of them.

But the amusement park next to cornfields and a two-lane state highway would not open until 2:00 o’clock. I filled the morning and put myself in the general area by attending the Fourth of July parade in Hamilton, Ohio.

This parade was significantly different from the only other parade I recall attending in Hamilton. That was the Short, Sweet, Wet, and Irish inaugural Saint Patrick’s Day parade held earlier this year. That parade had just one fire engine and, with a route length of approximately 575 feet, barely had room for it. This parade route was well over two miles long with several fire department vehicles including a couple of real classics.

The Corvettes and firetrucks did not surprise me but the low riders did. And it wasn’t just one or two. The number of these incredibly tricked-out cars rivaled the number of Corvettes and they jumped higher, too.

I was also surprised by this group’s . They had already passed me when the word “militia” caught my eye. I snapped this belated photo then looked up The Last Militia at the end of the day. They describe themselves as “a preparedness organization that focuses on the needs of families during times of strife” and dispute their classification as an antigovernment movement by the Southern Poverty Law Center. Their camouflage-patterned vests display the motto, Molṑn Labé. Greek for “Come and take them”, the phrase is often considered an expression of defiance but in this case is probably just an invitation to avail oneself of some of the bottled water pictured on their website.

I had no trouble Identifying the hot air balloon burner and gondola in the bed of this truck but sorting out the headgear took a bit longer. Only when I saw the Hops in the Hangar sign did I realize they are foam-topped beer mugs.

Getting inside the structure behind the four-foot flame was a bonus. I am fairly familiar with the Butler County Soldiers, Sailors and Pioneers Monument from the outside but had never been inside. It is even more impressive than I anticipated. Built on the site of the original Fort Hamilton, it honors all county residents who served in wars fought before its construction in 1902. Non-military pioneers are also recognized on the second floor. Original stained glass copies of the seals of the State of Ohio and the Grand Army of the Republic are opposite each other on the first floor.

Even larger stained glass windows on the second floor honor Civil War nurses and mothers. A clear glass window provides a wonderful view of the Great Miami River.

This is the place the day was organized around. Stricker’s Grove opened at 2:00 with the rides beginning at 3:00. Admission is free. Parking is $5. The pictured pavilion filled with picnic tables is just inside the park. There are also lots of tables outside the pavilion. Picnicking is not just tolerated; it is encouraged. The one-hour lag between opening and the rides firing up might actually be part of that encouragement. Reasonably priced food is available for anyone not packing a cooler at home. I had actually started the day thinking of a place to eat but when I learned of the parade I had just enough time to drive directly there. I now had time for breakfast — mett $4, chips $1, pink lemonade $2. Hotdogs were available for $2 and a 14 once draft beer for $4.

Eating was not the only thing available for filling in that rideless hour. A couple of Skee Ball areas and a large arcade filled with video games and pinball machines were in full swing as were other games of skill.

The rides had been operating for a while by the time I made it to the midway and purchased tickets. The best deal was clearly the $20 armband that let you ride anything all day. Single tickets were $2.50 or 5 for $10 or 20 for $25. That last option only makes sense if the tickets were to be shared by multiple riders. The only thing I really cared about riding was the Tornado roller coaster which was one of the very few rides, or possibly the only ride, that required three tickets. $7.50 seemed like a lot for one ride so I went for the five-ticket deal which made it seem like a bargain. It was then that I saw the coaster in motion for the first time ever but I decided not to get in the line just yet.

I had already decided to start off with a ride on the train (1 ticket) thinking it might give me a better feel for the park layout. Disappointingly, it did not go through the park but around its periphery of which corn and the Great Miami River are major components. It did give me a different view of the Tornado, however.

With the train ride behind me, it was time to join the queue at the Tornado. Reportedly there has been only one man in the United States to build his own roller coaster That man was Ralph Stricker and this is that coaster. Al Collins designed it and Stricker built it between November 1990, and June 1993.

The line was fairly long but it moved with reasonable speed. I used to ride roller coasters quite a bit but it has been a while. It felt good to climb into the car and start through that first slow curve past that corn. Being “homemade” and all, I kind of expected this to be a little wimpy. Not so. It was a good ride and all the coaster this old man needed. Nicely done Ralph and Al.

I used my one remaining ticket on another ride with a view. The extra fallout protection blocked the view to some degree but I could still see the corn and some people seem to always find a way to live life on the edge.

I submit these pictures not as examples of good fireworks photography but as evidence that I did expose myself to Independence Day pyrotechnics as required of all U.S. citizens. Fireworks were scheduled at Stricker’s Grove but I left long before that happened. I watched these from the parking lot across from King’s Island. Note that I live close enough to the park to hear these every night. The structure at the right edge of the first photo is the Drop Tower which I assume was closed during the fireworks.

The show also included the synchronized drones that the park introduced during last year’s 50th-anniversary celebration. I reported on my first viewing of them here. Formations not shown here included the Liberty Bell, the Statue of Liberty, and more. A good con man might be able to convince you that the lights in the middle of the map are there to mark King’s Island’s location but they are really lights on the replica Eiffel Tower standing between the camera and the drones.

Another Season of the Fish

I like fish and therefore like fish fries. During Lent, I try to patronize some of the Friday fundraisers although I rarely manage to check off every week. I doubt that was even possible during the COVID-19-ravaged years of 2020, ’21, and ’22. Even without a pandemic’s interference, going 7-for-7 isn’t always easy. I thought I’d accomplished it a couple of times but maybe not. 2014 is the only year that I’ve boasted about in this blog so maybe it’s the only perfect run I’ve ever accomplished — until now.

Lent, and the seven weeks of fish fries, ends with Easter. That 2014 boast was my Easter Day post for the year. I wasn’t completely confident of my ability to manage a fish fry every week this year and I had another Easter post ready just in case. When another 7-for-7 run began to look likely, I started thinking that I’d have to scrap that other post. Then I noticed that my calendar identified both an Easter Sunday and an Easter Monday. Easter Sunday got an Easter post and Easter Monday gets a fish post. 

The first week of Lent somehow caught me by surprise. I worked in a stop at nearby Saint Margaret of York on the way to something else. I’ve eaten here at least twice before. I do like to try new places but this is convenient and I like their baked salmon.

I did find a new-to-me place for the second week. At Saint Gertrude, I again had salmon but it wasn’t just any old salmon. This is “Roasted Lemon Dill Salmon”.

There is reason to think my choice for week three was a cheat but I think I can justify it. The Crow’s Nest is a commercial establishment and I did go there to see a musical performance (Ricky Nye) but the kitchen has been temporarily closed for renovation and food was not regularly available. A cooking tent has been set up in the courtyard for the duration of lent and fish is available for a few hours on Fridays. Only fish and only Fridays. Just like the churches.

Do you like Kolping? I don’t know. I’ve never Kolped. I found that silly joke, originally referencing author Rudyard Kipling, stuck in my head as I ate some really good baked fish at the Kolping Center on the fourth Friday of Lent.

During Lent’s fifth week, I went to Saint John the Evangelist in West Chester for baked tilapia. The meal, including drink, was only eleven dollars but the two-dollar pie pushed me to the teens.

There was no baked option at American Legion Post 484 so, for only the second time this year, I did not sully the name “fish fry” when I placed my order in week six.

Of course, the internet and online lists play an important role in all fish fry scheduling but it was extra important in locating a fry that I could work into a road trip without going too far off course. The event at American Legion Post 737 in Lake Milton, Ohio, met my Good Friday needs perfectly.


This may not be the last year with a “fish season” post but I expect it to be the last one with a set of stops like these. On the way home from one of the churches, I listened to a report on the boarding schools of nearly a century ago that were part of the effort to erase Native American culture. It told of physical, mental, and sexual abuse in which the United States government and the Catholic Church were involved. The report reminded me of a news article I’d read just the day before about a Cincinnati priest being sentenced on nine counts of rape going back decades. Arrest and prosecution had only recently occurred despite his “upsetting and alarming” behavior having long been noted. The specifics were new but the basics of the stories were not. When I started going to church-sponsored fish fries, I thought my patronage was harmless and was possibly even doing some good. Reflecting on these stories and the many others they reminded me of caused me to think otherwise. I may continue to frequent springtime fish fries but in the future they will be at fire stations, VFW and American Legion halls, and Irish pubs with closed kitchens and a grill setting outside the back door. So long churches, and thanks for all the fish.

Found on Easter Island

An entire lake dried up and all we got was this lousy moai. This previously unknown carving with “recognisable features but no clear definition” was found in a dry Easter Island lake bed on February 21. Regular readers may recall that Easter Island (a.k.a., Rapa Nui) is kind of special to me because it was on my -225th birthday that Europeans gave it the name Easter Island. By coincidence, that day in 1722 when Jacob Roggeveen and crew first bumped into the island was Easter Sunday. I first wrote about all that in 2016.

Moai are those large stone heads that Easter Island/Rapa Nui is known for. The lake where this unfinished moai turned up is inside the crater of the extinct Rano Raraku volcano. It used to look like this. The quarry where the stone came from for most of the moai is nearby. The lake started shrinking in 2018 and is just one sign of the impact that global warming is having on the island. There’s a broader view here.

On top of global warming, the island suffered an arsonist set fire in October. There is naturally some temptation to consider finding the statue in the lakebed a bright spot in the midst of all the bad stuff going on. I guess it is in a way, but it’s kind of like finding that quarter you lost last year in the wreckage of your house after a hurricane came through.

Many will find real joy in munching on this year’s new Dr. Pepper-flavored Peeps and maybe even washing them down with their namesake beverage. It’s definitely a sweet image. But that won’t be happening for Easter Islanders. The DP Peeps are a Walmart exclusive and Walmart has yet to reach the island. Hmmm. Perhaps that, and not the moai discovery, is actually the bright spot in this story.