Friday, December 02, 2005

First cranberries, now Mr. Rogers

This morning's brief excursion around the blogosphere revealed even more shocking revelations than the cranberry debacle. While I have nothing but respect for Barbara Curtis, I was shocked --- SHOCKED, I tell you --- to read that there are no fans of Mr. Rogers to be found in her entire household. I urge my readers to follow this link and learn of the whole scandal for themselves.

I will admit that, in my youth, I didn't fully appreciate when my younger brother watched Mr. Rogers. However, all that changed when Eldest Son was a wee lad and his speech therapist insisted that we no longer let him watch Sesame Street. (The pace was too frantic; the characters used poor grammar and diction.) Instead, she recommended Mr. Rogers.

His presence in our home in the afternoons added a soothing predictability to our routine. Boring person that I am, I found the peaceful repetitiveness of his program quite nice to watch. And I even learned a thing or two along the way.

Plus, Mr. Rogers was just so NICE.

Since the anti-cranberry diatribes inspired me to make the four different sauces/relishes pictured below, who knows what I'll be inspired to do now?

The cranberry section of our Thanksgiving buffet


  1. And for the more macho amongst us, who disdain Mr. Roger's cardigans--he was a Presbyterian minister and former Green Beret.

    Personally, I've found the What do you do with the mad that you feel? song helpful. For me.

  2. I love Mr Rogers! I am actually just young enough to recall hsi show when I was about 9 years old. I thought he was very comforting to listen to, but his stories were too juvenile, so I gave up on him. As a teenager, I learned to love him while I was caring for a five year old boy every afternoon for about ten days while his mother was hospitalized. He was a kind man who was easy to listen to. My little boy, whose name I cannot remember, used to sit on my lap as we watched Mr Rogers and waited for his mother to call from the hospital each day.

    And then when I was grown and my brother in law was killed in a car accident, the family doctor recommended that my sister read a book by Mr. Rogers on handling grief with children. She said it was the best advice she ever got on how to handle it with her thtree children.

    Dear Mr. Rogers couldn't live forever, at least not on earth. But I think he was an excellent influence for good!