IT'S JUST ANOTHER DAY

A blog about a life awakened and rejuvenated around Western New York.


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A DAY IN THE LIFE: AN OPEN LETTER TO BROOKLYN ARIEL

My Darling and Most Precious Angel,

Your name is Brooklyn Ariel and you’ve finally arrived, brought into this world on June 3rd of the year, 2019. This was a day that your “Poppi” had anticipated for some time. Not specifically Jun 3rd, but the day that you would join us. You are very small and won’t understand these words for a while, but I hope you will get the chance to and hopefully cherish their intent.

You were born a special little girl. Your Mommy and Daddy love you very much and they have been blessed with the greatest gift ever. You! And in that, you received a wonderful gift in having them as your parents, parent that wanted you and cared enough to have you. The gift of you keeps paying forward as you are also a blessing to your Grandparents, Grandma Jan and me, “Poppi”; G.G. and Grandpa Michael, Aunt Dre (Andrea) and Uncle Joshua, and a lot of cousins. Even your furry friends are happy you are here. Guinness and Marvel and Roman have taken on the job of watching over you and protecting you.

I can tell you as your “Poppi” that I cried when I heard you were born. They were not sad tears in the least. The birth of you is the happiest day of my life in a long string of happy days that I have seen. So, understand that happy tears are the best thing you could have.

In this short week of your life (as of today, June 10th), you have been an incredible joy and a reason to awaken each morning with a glow in my heart and the hope of seeing your beautiful face, your warm “smile” (even if it is gas), and the gentle sounds that come from deep within you. All of that stems from a contentment that you seem to display every day.

But, as your grandfather – your Mommy’s dad – your “Poppi”, let me offer my hopeful thoughts to you for your growth…

…I wish you could know right now how completely loved you are. There is no greater gift than that. I know one day you will understand this, but for now I hope you can bask in its glow.

…I hope to teach you as much as I can from this store of “knowledge” available to me. Know that “Poppi” is not the smartest guy in the world, but he knows enough to get by! I will try to help you see the promise of each new day, and the beauty of every sunset that graces your days. Whether in the sights they provide or in the words that describe them in the most poetic of ways, I hope you will find the hand of God in everything you witness. I promise to help you.

…I want you to know the music in the world around you. And the music in your very soul. Music is important. It will help you express your joy. It will help you understand your sorrows. It will ease your fears. Music will even make you happy for no reason other that just hearing it. And it will make you dance. Dance and music go together like Brooklyn and Poppi. You are my music. If I have the chance, I will teach you how to play music so you will never be without it. We’ll find your unique song (we each have one inside us) and we’ll dance to that too! And you’ll know the Beatles!

…I hope you never lose sight of who you are and where you’ve come from. It is nice to have nice things. But they will not make your life any better, only flashier. Your imagination will serve you well as long as you don’t get fooled into thinking you were meant to be something or someone you are not. Do not place more value on material things than you do on the people around you. They are your true wealth. They will make you rich in heart and mind, and that’s what is important! Be a good person. Be good to people. You are Brooklyn Ariel. Don’t forget it. And don’t get me wrong. It is ok to have nice things, if they are what you want and what you will work hard for. Things don’t come easily, but you’ll appreciate their worth when you work hard for them.

…Of all the gifts I can possibly give you, there is only one that truly matters; the only thing I can give you in great abundance. That is love. You are so loved, and will continue to be as long as I am able to be with you. Know that love will keep me with you no matter where I am. If given the choice of something of great expense or something as priceless as love, I hope you will know to choose love every time. In the end, love is worth so much more.

You are a beautiful little girl. You will grow to be everything you want to be and were meant to be. People will adore you for being the special person you are and will become. But not nearly as much as your Poppi does. Stay well, grow to be happy and love everything around you and you will be even more amazing than I already believe you are. I will forever carry you in my heart, Brooklyn.

 

With so much love,

Poppi


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BREAKING BACK

Who’s this guy Walter White? This Wojtanik guy came ready to leave it all on the table. The age-old fable stems from tales that Dad taught me. The carpenter and apprentice building a bond in the home that he remodeled. Today, the story has a new chapter and is carried forward. Yes, it is hard to believe (I’m finding it hard anyway) but, I’ve completed my siding project. Well there’s still a matter of the downspouts, byr for all intents and purposes, I’m declaring this (in my best  Borat voice – “Great Success!”, “Very nice!”)

We’ll be here twenty-four years in December (Yes, we moved in on December 1st) and through the first three years in which I vowed it would be done, the third year finally ended today. It felt like a long one!

The green shake shingles were an eyesore for all these years (although the green was reminiscent of the old homestead in Lackawanna, growing up on Wood Street.) Dad finally relented for a pastel yellow, but the green was where I began. It seemed fitting to start here, but as with Dad, change was in desperate need.

Vinyl siding, an undertaking I’ve never attempted (well versed in wooden clapboard – thanks Dad!) But I taught myself quickly. The month of August was a dedicated effort to finish. A new month takes control today; it is  right that final touches were completed by the time burgers and dogs hit the grill surface. Labor has ceased on Labor Day.

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< THIS IS THE BEFORE PICTURE

I had ranted on the many hues of “Tan”. (A Woj-TAN-ik house had to find its grounding in the soft brownish hue.) But good God, there was tan and beige and buff, and khaki, and wicker and… you get my point, And being somewhat frugal, I stayed within budget and had foregone the “fancy” colors for tints right off the shelf which were $11 – $22 cheaper a case.

IMG_1185 IMG_1186 Home1THIS IS THE AFTER PICTURE—->

84% of the project was a one man ordeal and as the title mentioned, I busted my back to get to today! And my back isn’t in great shape to begin with! Battling Summer’s hottest and haziest, I sweated off some pounds and turned my skin to leather. Another shade of tan for the project.

I would be remiss if I failed to thank my “crew”: my daughter Melissa and my son (in-law) Ryan Kruse, my daughter Andrea and her BF and my right hand throughout, Cody Stanek, my ‘kid’ sister Laurie Anne Wojtanik and my Brother-in-law Tony Kujawinski (my second story man). The “Foreman” (my wife Janice) kept the construction on track.

And so what next? The back fence posts need to be reset and plumbed up. But for now, mission accomplished. Very nice. Great success!IMG_1189


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HERE, THERE AND EVERYWHERE – BROADWAY MARKET AT EASTERTIME

BUFFALO'S BROADWAY MARKET

BUFFALO’S BROADWAY MARKET

“Bring your car, come and park it. Meet me at the Broadway Market!”

Surveying the Polish Sausages.

Surveying the Polish Sausages.

A Tradition, tried and true. An Old World Market in the heart of the city district of Buffalo, known as “Polonia”. The Broadway Market, a Western New York Landmark, has stood to serve the Polish community for decades. This is the place to be as Easter time draws near. Treats and goodies are found here, and Polish foods have become the staples of  the Swieconka Easter meal. Aromatic Polish sausages (both smoked and fresh) fill the air. The fanciful painted Easter eggs in the Old World style draw the eye and elicits memories of youthful times with family and friends. Breads and butter lambs, and the famous Broadway Market Horseradish, the “bitter herbs” of traditional times all complete the feast. Each food is symbolic in representing Christ’s journey during Holy Week and at Easter.

Easter flowers on display

Easter flowers on display

Easter flowers add their fragrances with Lilies, azaleas, hyacinths, and tulips available amongst others. It is a festival of sorts, as Tony Krew, of Buffalo’s Krew Brothers Polka Band parades down the aisle with his accordion to play polish favorites. But with the times comes mush change as the Market has presumed an International flavor with Middle Eastern fair along with Native American music and even a man with his barrel organ (sans monkey) to complete the scene. 

Much to see at the Broadway Market - Janice picks her Easter lily.

Much to see at the Broadway Market – Janice picks her Easter lily.

Attending the 9:30 mass at the Mother Church of Buffalo’s Polish Community, St. Stanislaus Bishop and Martyr R.C Church, it was the perfect time for my wife, Janice and I to check out the wares on this yearly Pilgrimage. This week will spell a savory trek to the Polish Mecca, in the shadow of  Buffalo’s New York Central Terminal, for no Easter is truly complete in Buffalo without a visit to the Broadway Market.  IMG_0894

FOR MORE INFORMATION, VISIT THE BROADWAY MARKET LINK HERE!


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MAKING MY WAY BACK “HOME”

It’s been a while since I posted here. Situations and circumstances put life clearly on my doorstep. But we persevere. It’s what life is about.

So here I sit, less than two weeks to Christmas 2013. The tree’s up (the SECOND thing that gets my spirit right – the Christmas music that begins on Halloween not withstanding). That sight and those sounds brings the feeling closer to home. Those who know, understand. Losing both parents at Christmas time (mom on Christmas Eve ’86) it takes some doing every year to find my Christmas. It comes around eventually, but it is still a struggle. The girls are grown and all the magic of their wide-eyed Christmases lingers in the shadows. They “will” my spirit to come our and play!

So I am slowly coming home to Christmas. The decorations that have laced our traditions are being put into place. I will be ready.

A little known secret. Every year for twenty-six years, after all have retired to bed, I put on the suit to dress under the tree. All gifts wrapped and brightly adorned are placed beneath by me in the guise of the Jolly Old Guy! They believe because I believe. Even if only for ten minutes once a year on Christmas Eve, I AM the spirit of the Season. I am Santa Claus. We are all Santa Claus.

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For a journey through my Walter-ego, visit my poetry blog, I AM SANTA CLAUS ( iamsantaclaus.wordpress.com )


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HAPPY 80th BIRTHDAY, JOHN!

DCIM100MEDIAMy father-in-law John turned 80. A milestone for anyone. But the fact he has lasted this long is a testament to his constitution. John has advanced Parkinson’s Disease. He had his stomach removed 6 years ago due to cancer. He no longer walks. To say he’s getting the best care at the hands of my mother-in-law, would be a blatant lie. (And she know all about that!)

John exists. His mind is failing. And when we pause to celebrate a momentous occasion, we have to do it  by halves of the family. It is equally divided. Anyone who would read the details would be amazed by the ignorance. And I would be embarrassed  to tell it. According to the mother-in-law, there are the haves and have-nots! The ones who have husbands, and good law abiding kids, and do not live above their means, who are not on public assistance and are not even treated like daughters… blah, blah, blah. The obverse is true for the other two, grown women both at 48 and 52 respectively. Mommy still cares for them. One milks her for she its worth; the other is a horrendous bully. And listening to reason is not a strong suit she’s ever held.

But, I digress. John exists, and it’s sad that things couldn’t be better for the man, but he holds on to live by a precarious thread. And while he does, we still celebrate. Happy Birthday John, on your 80th Birthday.


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WATCHING WALLENDA

Nik Wallenda.

What can you say about him? The guy is insane. He’s nuts. He has a death wish. He is extremely talented, And focused. And driven.

Nik Wallenda is amazing.

My knees knock on an extension ladder more than a story high. They say, “Don’t look down!” I look down and worry about falling and breaking something. What does that say about Wallenda? (What does it say about me?)

To be so sure that’s what you want to do when you grow up is commendable. To achieve your dream is a gift from somewhere way North of the horizon. It’s no wonder Nik Wallenda is so successful at what he does. He’s the seventh generation in the “Family Business”. And he walks with Jesus.

Now this isn’t a religious diatribe. It’s just that from his first step over the gorge that is as deep as the Empire State Building is tall, Wallenda was thankful for every new step forward he was “allowed” to take. And if he were going down, he’d go down with his prayer in his heart. But, Nik Wallenda was held aloft. As you watched (if you watched) his incredible feat, you noticed something. After a while, the high wire disappeared. It blended into the grandeur of the Grand Canyon’s magnificence. And there he was, the Great Karl Wallenda’s great-grandson suspended in mid air walking with the most spectacular view in the house.

Nik

Photo credit: AP

It laughs in the face of the old joke, “Why does Wallenda cross the Grand Canyon (and last year, Niagara Falls)?” It’s obvious. To get to the other side (which was the side this whole trek started on before helicopter whisked him to the starting point!)

Every ending is a beginning, after all!