Reminiscing -- August 22, 2025

Making breakfast this morning -- memories of Pateley Bridge. Twenty years ago, Friday, looking forward to wonderful weekends in Yorkshire. Some days, now, more difficult than other days. But in the big scheme of things, I have no complaints, doing well. Not a day goes by that I don't think of Yorkshire.

Someone Once Told Me -- August 13, 2025

 .... it would took eight years to get over an unrequited love. 

Not true. Has it been twenty-one years?

Not a day goes by that I don't think of you. And the memories seem stronger than ever. 

Google maps, satellite photos, and street views of Yorkshire bring back bittersweet memories.

I haven't changed a bit ... except normal aging process and "slow" at that. 

Visits to Menwith Hill.

Movie Night -- Ingrid Bergman Night On TCM -- We'll Always Have Yorkshire -- August 5, 2025

Movie night, tonight.

First, Notorious. Whoo-hoo!

Then, Casablanca! Another whoo-hoo!

As time goes by ... link here.

By the way, one of my favorite movies, Brassed Off -- I "own" it through Amazon. Many memories, Pat.

Tonight Would Be A Great Night For Wine And Escargot At A Most Exclusive Restaurant With The Most Beautiful Girl .... August 5, 2025

Link here.

Cistercian Abbeys -- July 29, 2025

Many, many Yorkshire memories.

Rievaulx Abbey, pages: 74, 102, 106 - 108, 160, 180, 260, 306-309.

Rievaulx Abbey, wiki.

Cistercian abbeys, from another blog, posted March 11, 2010. Licorice and Rievaulx Abbey.

During my multiple visits to Yorkshire between 2002 and 2004, a close friend introduced me to the abbeys in the shire. We visited them all, and visited them more than once. I think Rievaulx Abbey was one of my favorites.

Today, while tutoring a student, somehow the subject of licorice came up. We were curious about the origin of licorice. I guessed licorice originated somewhere in Africa or possibly southwest Asia. Wow, was I wrong. It originated in southern Europe.

But this, from Wikipedia, almost made me fall off my chair:

Pontefract, an old medieval town in West Yorkshire, England, was the first place where liquorice mixed with sugar began to be used as a sweet in the same way it is in the modern day. Pontefract Cakes were originally made there. In Yorkshire and Lancashire it is colloquially known as Spanish, supposedly because Spanish monks grew liquorice root at Rievaulx Abbey near Thirsk.

Maybe more later, but this is enough memories of Yorkshire for me for the moment.

Yorkshire, Pontefract, Licorice -- From ChatGPT -- Not Formatted -- July 29, 2025

Pontefract: 30 minutes southeast of Leeds.

How did we ever miss Ponefract???

Ah, Pontefract, licorice, abbeys, and Yorkshire — now that’s a rich mix of English heritage, botanical oddities, and medieval intrigue. Let’s unpack this in layers:

---

📍 

Pontefract, Yorkshire, England

• Pontefract is a historic market town in West Yorkshire, England, located near the River Aire and within the district of Wakefield.

• It was once a Royalist stronghold during the English Civil War and is most famous for:

  • Pontefract Castle — now a ruin, but once among the strongest castles in England (where Richard II allegedly died).

  • A center for liquorice production (more on that in a moment).

---

🍬 

Pontefract & Licorice (Liquorice)

• Pontefract has a centuries-old connection to the licorice root plant, Glycyrrhiza glabra.

• Licorice was originally grown in monastery gardens — notably at Pontefract Priory, a Cluniac monastery founded in the 1090s.

• Monks used it for medicinal purposes, particularly as a remedy for coughs, stomach issues, and inflammation.

• Over time, licorice cultivation spread, and Pontefract became synonymous with the production of licorice sweets, especially:

  • Pontefract Cakes – small, round, stamped black licorice discs, originally a medicinal lozenge.

    • The stamp traditionally featured a castle or a stylized fleur-de-lis.

    • Often produced by companies like Wilkinsons and Haribo (which still makes them today).

• What’s unique: Pontefract is one of the few places in England where licorice was historically grown outdoors, due to its relatively mild climate and rich soil.

---

🕍 

Abbeys and Monastic Roots

• Pontefract Priory (now gone) was the religious anchor that first cultivated licorice for herbal remedies.

• Not far from Pontefract, in the larger Yorkshire region, you’ll find other dramatic abbey ruins with a licorice or herbal tradition:

  • Fountains Abbey – a magnificent Cistercian ruin near Ripon.

  • Rievaulx Abbey – another Cistercian monastery nestled in a North Yorkshire valley.

  • Kirkstall Abbey – near Leeds; this one is often linked to monastic herbal gardens.

• These abbeys had large gardens growing everything from thyme and rosemary to medicinal plants like comfrey and licorice.

---

🗺️ Yorkshire: The Larger Context

• Yorkshire is the largest historic county in England, divided into North, South, East, and West Ridings (West Riding includes Pontefract).

• It’s known for:

  • Medieval heritage (castles, abbeys, battlefields)

  • Rugged landscapes (Yorkshire Dales, North York Moors)

  • Food culture — including licorice, Wensleydale cheese, and Yorkshire pudding

  • The Wars of the Roses — Pontefract was an important military location.

---

⚗️ Fun Historical Connection

• King Henry VIII dissolved the monasteries (including Pontefract Priory) in the 1530s, which ended monastic licorice cultivation… but the trade in licorice as a sweet took off during the 18th and 19th centuries, especially when sugar became cheaper.

• Pontefract’s shift from monastic medicine to commercial candy is a neat arc of economic history.

Major Mark Hoggan -- 2007

Oksol Bruce A Col AIA/SG 

From:bruce.oksol@lackland.af.mil

To:mark.hoggan-02@fairchild.af.mil

Cc:oksol@yahoo.com

Tue, Jun 5, 2007 at 4:56 PM

Mark,

Thank you for the update.  I did not get back to Menwith Hill, which is

one of my biggest disappointments this year, but perhaps for the best.

I have great memories, and perhaps going back, the reality would not

have lived up to expectations.

Having said that, I would like to return someday -- to Yorkshire, not

the installation -- as a civilian.

My official retirement day is 1 July 07, having served at that time, 30

years, 7 days (one retires the first day of the following month of the

mandatory 30-year retirement date).

Mike was fortunate to have had such a long time in Yorkshire, but I'm

glad to see he's a volunteer to a northern tier location; it has to be

tough for the USAF to get folks to those locations.  I'm from Williston,

two hours west of Minot, and even though it's my (ancestral) home I

really could not enjoy living there (permanently).

Are you at risk of deploying to the Mideast? Bring me up to date on your

chidren.

Things are quiet here -- my last month in the USAF.  Hard to believe how

fast it went by, and I still feel very young.  I feel blessed to still

be in good health.

I had a nice retirement / family reunion in southern California last

week; it was easier for me to be out there with family, than to have

family (on both sides) try to fly to San Antonio for retirement

ceremony. 

I will copy this to my home e-mail address so I have yours.

Keep in touch.

Bruce

-----Original Message-----

From: Hoggan, Mark E Maj 92 MDOS/SGOPF

Sent: Wednesday, May 30, 2007 3:31 PM

To: Oksol Bruce A Col AIA/SG

Subject: update

Col Oksol,

How are things with you? I wasn't sure if you have already started your

summer events yet.  I just wanted to let you know I heard from Mike

Shipman- apparently he is PCSing to Minot- closer to family. He thought

about retiring, but looks like he's staying in for another tour.  Did

you ever get back to Menwith per chance?

Hope all is well with you and your family.

Mark

The Lunar Men -- June 27, 2025

F Scott Fitzgerald taught us that "we can never go back."

But that makes it no easier.

I've nearly finished reading The Lunar Men. Notes here. The members of the Lunar Club, of which I've been reading for the past several days, are now coming to their own end. The author is introducing us to their growing / grown children. Some have already died. I can see the end coming. It makes me very sad, and every page with descriptions of England at the time, remind me of the time I spent at Menwith Hill and Pateley Bridge with a most wonderful woman.

Some outings with Pat were most incredible, such as the day-long hike to Whitby and back. I wish we had done more of those excursions. We did excursions every weekend, but somehow they don't bring back memories like Whitby. Haworth, of course, is an exception, such fond memories but we were a threesome that day and I needed / wanted to be with Pat alone.  Or alone with Pat.

We can never go back, but wow, the memories will never go away. 

Note: this is the second time I've read this book. There are some chapters I need to read yet again. But I'm getting a better and better feeling with regard to the dozen or so men of the Lunar Society. 

When I go through this again, I need to develop some way to keep track of the places where they lived, and the locations in relationship to each other, particularly Erasmus Darwin's home, Lichfield.

Breakfast -- June 22, 2025

One of my favorite "things" when I was in Yorkshire: breakfast with Pat -- English ham, eggs, bacon, and three newspapers: The Daily [London] Telegraph, The [London] Guardian, and, The [London] Times. 

I would run down -- literally run down --  to the village store, Sunday mornings, to buy fresh eggs, bacon and ham, and three newspapers, as noted above.

We then enjoyed a wonderful breakfast that I cooked (LOL) and then spending a couple hours reading the London newspapers! 

After last night's USAF B-2 bombing of Iranian nuclear facilities, I wish I was back in Yorkshire reading those newspapers along with Pat.

Link here.

I really miss you, Pat, more than you will ever know.

*********************
Movies

Watching syrupy, treacly movies tonight. They bring back wonderful memories.

****************************
Yesterday

Link here.

Not A Day Goes By That I Don't Think Of You And About You -- June 10, 2025

I'm joined at the hip with my 10-year-old granddaughter, as I was when her two older sisters were her age. The oldest has just graduated from college and the middle one has just started college. The third of three granddaughters lives with her mom and dad in the same apartment complex in which we live.

I wouldn't have it any other way.

But that doesn't mean I don't think of you often -- every day, in fact. 

I have one last "thing" in life to accomplish. To see the ten-year-old granddaughter get her driver's license. Then my work on earth, as it were, or my purpose for living, is done.

That doesn't mean I love my two grandsons, twins, in Portland, OR, any less. It simply means they don't need me for anything. They have a mom that does not work outside the home and her two sons are her two priorities in life. 

Both of Sophia's parents have incredibly busy lives / jobs outside of their home and thus Sophia would often be stranded if her grandparents were not here to take her to all her activities and here all her stories. But by 8th grade, two or three years from now, that will be over. All she will need from us is a chauffeur. 

And when she gets her driver's license, she won't need a chauffeur.

It's Thursday, But It Feels Like A Friday -- May 22, 2025

My thoughts carry me back to Yorkshire, specifically Menwith Hill Station, Pateley Bridge, Friday night.

I would just like to share a bottle of wine with you tonight, listen to some YouTube music, and then maybe a movie, wrapped in each other's arms.  

Look into your eyes, again. 

Maybe talk literature. Share music. But mostly just share each other.

I Still Miss Someone -- May 22, 2025

**********************************
I Still Miss Someone

Link here.

 

Birthday -- June 1, 2025

Wow, I miss you. Birth dates are particularly painful.

Politics — May 12, 2025

It’s sad how so many folks are so upset about the current political environment. That was one of the nicest things about Pat. She completely avoided the news. 

Reminiscing -- May 1, 2025

Individually each of the posts on this blog are really, really awful, but as one scrolls through the blog, one can really see how good it is.

Every morning, walking back from the bus stop, having dropped off Sophia for another school day, and every evening dropping Sophia off at home -- I am reminded of the wonderful walks I had with Pat. Early morning and late in the evening, even in Texas, the weather is generally wonderful and dawn or dusk reminds me of those halcyon days in Yorkshire. 

I'm rereading Thomas Merton, The Seven Storey Mountain, An Autobiography of Faith. I came across this book during my time with Pat. It was probably during the middle of our time together. I do not recall how I came across the book. Somehow, Pat must have mentioned it to me. 

I could never write to Pat, but I wish I had kept up with Colleen, at least on a very irregular basis. I would like to know how things worked out for her and her husband. Most importantly, maybe she would have stayed in touch with Pat and would be able to tell me something -- anything -- about Pat.

You have no idea how much I enjoy Thomas Merton's autobiography and I wish I had someone with whom to discuss it. But, it seems, "sharing books" has never been very rewarding for me. May wouldn't even begin to listen to me. Pat might at least enjoy a conversation. I don't know.

Our best times, if I recall correctly when Pat and I went on long walks at night or on the weekend and were completely quiet, lost in our own thoughts.

Generally speaking, England was a miserable place to stop, get a snack, rest. The weather outside was generally miserable. I don't recall why we didn't go inside. Perhaps we weren't interested in anything more than resting and the proprietors would not let us just sit without ordering something. Why didn't we go out for tea more often or even an ale in the evening?

But if Pat wants to know a bit more about me, my psyche, a good place to start, Thomas Merton.

Wow, I miss her. Pat.

Not A Day Goes By That I Don’t Think Of Pateley Bridge And The River Nidd At Midnight — April 30, 2025

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tTpofzN3cJc

Fifteen Years Ago, John Prine

Thomas Merton, The Cistercians, Yorkshire, And The Trappists -- April 20, 2025

From:

• The Seven Storey Mountain: An Autobiography Of Faith, Thomas Merton, 1948, 1998.

Page 28: Thomas Merton talking about his grandfather by whom he was raised after his mother died and his father sailed to France to paint and leave his two sons back on Long Island, with the maternal grandparents. 

The chief reason was that he himself belonged to some kind of a Masonic organization, called, oddly enough, the Knights Templars.

Where they picked up that name, I do not know: but the original Knights Templars were a military religious Order in the Catholic Church, who had an intimate connection with the Cistercians, of which the Trappists are a reform.

I first became of aware of the Cistercians when visiting the monasteries of Yorkshire with Pat. 

****************************
Re-Cap

A lost soul.

A very bohemian mother and father. Two bohemian artists. The mother / father: New Zealand/Australia; NYC; London; back to NYC; to England and Cambridge. His mother dies when he's about five years old and his younger brother about two years old. After the mother dies, the boys are left in the care of their paternal (?) grandparents in Doublaston on Long Island, nearer Flushing than Great Neck (Jay Gatsby). After a year or so, his dad returns and takes Thomas with him back to England but leaves his younger brother with the grandparents on Long Island.

Most of his early education was in England, I believe, and the he starts at Clare College, Cambridge University. He really doesn't know where he wants to go, what he wants to do. He is very, very conflicted. In 1933 he was about eighteen years old, so he missed WWI -- he must have been born around 1915 -- wow, wow, wow -- I'm right -- I just checked -- wiki 1915 - 1968 -- diet at age 53. His death in Thailand, near Bangkok, was suspicious. No autopsy. Cover story death by electrocution but the excessive bleeding from a wound in the back of his head was never explained. Assassination was widely thought due to he anti-war stance regarding Vietnam. This was 1968. No autopsy. Flown back to the US in a military aircraft, which, of course, raises more questions. 

But I digress. 

His autobiography conveniently leaves out details of an affair with a woman and out-of-wedlock child, both of whom he abandoned when he departed Cambridge after his freshman year. The child was likely one year old when he left England, never to return. 

His parents were incredibly poor in his youth and it appears most of his money came from his grandparents in Long Island. Later, his father did quite well; and perhaps he was able to provide some funds for his son.

I'm about a third of the way through the book; Thomas is in his first year -- his sophomore year -- Columbia University in NYC and I don't recall any mention of his younger brother as a young adult. And nothing about his dad at this point.

As noted, he does not talk about his affair but in England -- at Cambridge, no doubt -- except in a very distant way -- page 147.

I've read somewhere that the whereabouts of the woman and the child are unknown but other sources suggest he did look her up at least once, and the mother may have died very, very young (suicide?). None of that will ever be known but I will do what I can on the internet to see if anyone else has learned something.

Reading his autobiography -- at least to this point -- takes me back to the 60s. It is simply amazing how much the 60's affected me, and particulalry how many forks in the many roads I took between my sophomore year in high school (fall, 1966) and my first year in my first operational assignment in the USAF, Grand Forks AFB, ND, arriving, fall of 1980. 

Wow, I would love to discuss those fourteen years with another woman who I met later in life who was my exact contemporary, also born in 1951, on June 1, 1951. I was born two months later, August 14, 1951.

She was born in St Louis, MO; I was born in Bismarck, ND. Not all that far apart geographically and culturally..

There would be pieces of the story I would like to collect from the first love of my life, but she died years ago and we had not kept in touch after we broke up in the fall of 1976 or thereabouts. 

But quickly some bullets that need to be fleshed out at a later date;

High school:
722 17th Street West, Williston, ND; incredibly busy high school; activities at school from 7:30 a.m. (band, coronet, French horn) to post athletic activities, getting home routinely after 8:00 p.m.

I slept downstairs in the basement, shared a room with my brother, four years younger, twin beds, big bedroom. Best living arrangement ever. 

Maps of Vietnam hanging on the wall and I would circle geographical locations mentioned in the press; I don't recall seeing much on television. I was not home much. I do remember the moon landing in July, 1969.

Subconsciously the Vietnam War must have really affected me during my high school years but I was too busy to really remember, and somehow getting a deferral to go to college and I pretty much forgot about the war. I graduated in 1969 and that was just about the time anti-war protests had probably reached their apex. I might have to research when protests started declining. Nixon resigned in summer of 1974; he had announced the peace accords, peace with honor, January 23, 1973. So, I have to assume protests were still a big thing in first two years of 1970s, but I don't recall. Augustana College was not that "political." 

McGovern - Nixon election, fall of 1972.

Kent State shootings, May 4, 1970, after the US expanded the Vietnam War into Cambodia.

Linda's younger sister was attending Kent State when that occurred.

I met Linda's younger sister and her boyfriend during the summer of 1971 (?).

Kent State was a topic of discussion but I don't recall being particularly interested. I was more than challenged with selling books door-to-door in Union County (Westfield) New Jersey, a bedroom suburb of NYC.

Because of that summer in New Jersey and subsequent visits I gained a knowledge, a love, a respect for NYC that I would not have otherwise had.

So, Vietnam, when I want to think about it, was huge for me.

But, bigger for me, the women in my life, and there were several. Not one relationship with any one woma was trivial. Each relationship was important, incredibly important. Losing my virginity was an "incredible" experience. Technically, perhaps, I lost my virginity twice. Will explain later. Maybe three times.

Linda. Birth control before the pill. The Pill. Open Marriage.

I don't think Linda felt I could ever "adjust." My values were conservative values from North Dakota; hers were liberal values, having grown up in a suburb of NYC and then attending medical school at Rutgers / Harvard University.

With Linda, a road trip from Los Angeles to San Francisco along the Pacific Coast. Took forever. I read East of Eden, Tannery Row while she drove. We shared driving responsibilities. I assume we took the 1973 blue Chevy Nova that my dad had bought me. Wow, what a gift. I wish he and I would have had deeper discussions later in life. That's something I need to remember with Arianna and Olivia and Sophia and Judah and Levi. They will have to be written notes; it would be unlikely that any would really want to have a discussion with me on such things.

I will never know how close I came to giving up the USAF and medical school for Linda.

She never got married; never had children. I think she, too, was terribly conflicted throughout life, but highly driven, and incredibly successful at least at some level.

Then medical school in southern California. Two women. The second I married.  

Medical degree, three-year residency in northern California, with first child, and then completing than residency in summer of 1980 and moving to North Dakota for my first operational assignment,and then to Germany, for my second operational assignment, Bitburg Air Base, 1983 - 1986.

May just sent me a note regarding illegal immigrants along the southern border; I no longer care. May and I are in our 70's; she is closer to 80 than 70, and me only two years younger. We've had our opportunity in life; by all rights, we should both be dead by now. I am ready for death except for Sophia. This would be the wrong time to leave her. Seven more years.

Back to Thomas Merton.

So, although his timeline was (1951 / 1915 = 36 years) skewed thirty-six years ahead of me. He avoided the draft / WWII due to medical deferment.

I avoided the Vietnam War simply because I was in college and then medical school.

In his 20's Merton knew he would subject to the draft. As a pacifist, he had a problem. He volunteered to work for the medical corps as a pacifist. He failed the physical exam, rejected by the US military.

"I Still Miss Someone."

Haworth -- The Brontës

In the background I'm listening to "Canterbury Cathedral Evensong February 17, 2025" on YouTube and reading the biography of the Brontës by Juliet Barket, c. 2010. 

I am just now starting chapter three in which the Brontës have all been born -- six children, five girls and a boy. and Patrick, the dad, has just accepted his third parish. The first was Hartshead, the second Thornton, and the third Haworth. 

Had I known all this then, it would have been exciting to re-trace those steps from Hartshead to Thornton to Haworth over a period of five or six days, staying in pensions or inns or BnB's along the way with you. 

The distance would have been maybe 15 miles total, eight miles from Hartshead to Thornton and seven miles from Thorton to Haworth.

Link here.

Haworth --The Brontës

Hi, Pat:

Link here.

Tag: Brontës

February 8, 2025

 Hi, Pat.

Not a day goes by that I don't think of you. 

After a very warm day today and to some extent yesterday, it's going to be relatively cooler and colder this next week. Already, walking from the Bat Cave to the apartment was not particularly pleasant. The wind was truly picking up and it was getting very, very cold.

Now, I'm in a comfortable chair next to the bed in the bedroom -- all I lack is a fireplace and a golden retriever -- reading a short biography of Gertrude Stein and Alice B. Toklas. I can easily finish it in one sitting but the writing is so good, I do not want to rush it. I will stop for the night and finish it later.

I really have it quite nice -- a beautiful, cozy apartment, and in good health. One of these days I will fall off the cliff but right now -- knock on wood -- I'm doing well -- in every respect, I suppose.

Super Bowl Sunday tomorrow. I have no plans to watch it. I will check in at half-time and if the score intrigues me I may watch a bit of the game. 

Now, after putting the biography of Gertrude Stein and Alice B. Toklas aside I need to find another book before heading to bed.

We never did spend time together apart, did we?

Sitting in the same room, reading separately, just enjoying each other's company silently. 

Saturday Night -- Watching Some Wonderful Old Hitchcock Movies Filmed In The 1930s In Britain, Scotland -- January 25, 2025

Again, another night in which I miss you more than ever. 

I remain in good health. 

My favorite memories: midnight walks along the river in the cold and the rain.