Art by Hart

A caveman, a blonde, and a blue heron walked into a bar . . .

Yolanda was Rickett’s first crush in a movie star

Maxine wore outfits that cried out for people to color her in

As different as they were, the Fogle twins usually saw eye-to-eye

Minnie didn’t understand her granny’s new do

Art and photos by Jane Art

In and Around Kendal

Sure Signs of Spring

Sail boats on the Hudson, by Beverly Aisenbrey

All alone, but trying, by Greg Lozier

Just greening up, by Carolyn Reiss

Just budding out, by Carolyn Reiss

Reflections from Robert Fulton Bridge

Photo by Ed Lannert

Kendal Art: It’s a Shoe Thing

Photo by Ed Lannert

Sleepy Hollow Fun Run 2026

Piping to help a a Runner on his way, by Beverly Aisenbrey

Stuff and Nonsense . . .

For those of you uninitiated in the glory that is Mah Jongg, it is a game of making patterns with tiles. Some tiles are like playing cards: a design with a number. Their “face cards” are dragons (red and green) and “soap” (looks like a bar of Ivory soap). Some are flowers. Some are “winds”: North, East, South, and West represented by the first letter of its name (N, E, S, W). At a recent game, players noticed that the gods of Mah Jongg must be sending them a coded message with the winds and a Soap:

Photo by Amanda Slattery

Day’s End at Kendal

Photo by Edward Kasinec

Out and About

Eat Your Hearts Out, Swallows

The swallows that return to Capistrano have nothin’ on the snow geese of South Dakota. A migratory bird, the snow goose likes to return north once winter is making more-southern climes uncomfortable. March 11, Beverly Aisenbrey just happened to be at Lake Byron in South Dakota near the Aisenbrey’s hometown when the snow geese landed—100,000 strong—for a rest in their travels.

To get a real idea of how many there were, click on the video below:

Photo and video by Beverly Aisenbrey

What’s New at the Neuberger?

Intrepid Kendalites recently traveled to Purchase, NY, to visit the exhibitions at The Neuberger Museum.

And they had a special docent: our own Birgitta Hockstader, who provided background and consideration of the art and the arts.

Photos by Harry Bloomfeld

This Is What Democracy Looks Like Tarrytown, March 28

More than 40 Kendalites—along with hundreds others from Tarrytown and surrounding towns—joined the March 28 No Kings rally.

Photo by Edward Kasinec

Photo by Ruth Dinowitz

They Fixed It!

On March 29, Amanda Slattery took her broken cheese knife, glass napkin ring, and a baseball trophy to The Rivertowns Repair Cafe, held that day at the Sleepy Hollow Senior Center. There she met Lee and Tom, who mended all three “with a smile” and for a very low price: free!

Photo by Amanda Slattery

The Rivertowns Repair Cafe is part of an intervillage community effort known as the “The Rivertowns Repair Cafe” organized in our area by volunteers from Hastings, Dobbs Ferry  Irvington, Tarrytown, and Sleepy Hollow. Their mission is not only to fix things—which then don’t have to be tossed and replaced by new things—but also to show people “how to” so maybe the next time they can do it themselves.

Repair Cafe is a part of a grassroots movement that has spread around the globe. It aims to reduce waste, overconsumption, and planned obsolescence. It hopes to reignite the spirit of “do-it-together” and “do-it-yourself.”

What's So Punny?

  • Venison for dinner again? Oh deer!

  • England has no kidney bank, but it does have a Liverpool.

  • I tried to catch some fog, but I mist.

  • They told me I had type-A blood, but it was a Typo.

  • I changed my iPod’s name to Titanic. It's syncing now.

  • Jokes about German sausage are the wurst.

  • Don’t worry about old age; it doesn't last.

Contributed by Simone

I Never Knew That

It Can Take Two Weeks to Make One Jelly Bean

The next time you pop some jelly beans into your mouth, you may want to take a moment to appreciate just how much effort goes into producing these bite-sized delights. As explained by industry giant Jelly Belly, the process begins by heating a sugar, cornstarch, corn syrup, and water mixture—known as a slurry—and adding fruit purée, juice concentrate, or other ingredients for flavoring. From there, the mixture is squirted into cornstarch-coated molding trays, and left to solidify into the chewy jelly bean centers. 

The following day, the bean centers are sent through a steam bath and a sugar shower to keep them from sticking. They are then loaded into a spinning machine for a process known as panning, in which sugar and syrup are manually applied over the course of two hours to slowly build each bean’s candied shell. Following another settling period, the candies receive an additional syrup coating, before being polished with confectioner’s glaze and beeswax. Upon earning a final thumbs-up by way of visual inspection and spot taste-testing, the beans are stamped with the Jelly Belly logo and shipped out into the world.

It’s a lot of shower, rinse, rest, and repeat for a process that takes seven to 14 days to complete. And while that might seem like an outsized increment of time for such a tiny edible, the Americans who gobble down an average of 16 billion jelly beans every Easter seem to think it's worth it.

Nobody knows for sure where jelly beans came from, but they’re said to have descended from a pair of European predecessors: jellied Turkish delights, which became the pride of Istanbul in the late 18th century, and Jordan almonds, which began receiving their candy shells in the 15th century. Allegedly mentioned early on in a Civil-War-era advertisement from Boston candymaker William Schrafft, jelly beans were considered a Yuletide specialty by the end of the 19th century, before becoming more closely associated with Easter within a few decades. But perhaps the biggest step in jelly-bean history came in 1965, when the Herman Goelitz Candy Company found a way to flavor both the chewy center and the crunchy shell of their Mini Jelly Beans, creating the modern marvel enjoyed by candy connoisseurs everywhere.

Source: interestingfacts.com, Tim Ott and Bess Lovejoy.

Art by Hart

Burnside always liked to book an extra week in hibernation

It was a rare creamsicle sunrise

Hutchins saw two creatures from another planet, and it scared him silly

When Geoff wanted to go incognito, he wore his butterfly disguise

Bella’s profession was tightrope walker, but her obsession was parting her hair

Art and photos by Jane Hart

I Never Knew That

Potatoes Were Once Banned Because They Were Linked to Witchcraft

People have historically behaved irrationally when they’re of the belief that witches are about. In addition to holding trials and inspiring plays by Arthur Miller, the denizens of the past once went so far as to ban the humble potato because they believed it was linked to witchcraft. 

Everyone’s favorite tuber originated in the Americas and wasn’t introduced to Europe until the late 16th century, at which time potatoes were looked upon with fear and suspicion. Botanists identified the tubers as members of the poisonous nightshade family, leading to their association with devil worship and witchcraft. (While potatoes belong to the same family as deadly nightshades, they do not contain the same toxins.) They also aren’t mentioned in the Bible, which some religious thinkers of the time interpreted as a sign they weren’t meant to be eaten. All of that was enough for France’s Parliament to outlaw potatoes from 1748 until 1772, when King Louis XV overturned the ban. The king was persuaded by a medical officer by the name of Antoine-Augustin Parmentier, who was fed little else during his time as a prisoner of war and found his confinement surprisingly tasty and nutritious.

Elsewhere in food-related superstitions, Europeans spent centuries depriving themselves of tomatoes because they believed that tomatoes were poisonous. The pewter plates tomatoes were sometimes eaten on contained lead that was leached by the fruit, resulting in the misconception.

Source: Michael Nordine, historyfacts.com, February 26, 2026

Art by Hart

With Kincaid on her head and a little red scarf, Lili hoped that nobody would notice her onion soup spill

The first multi-species country club was drawing attention

From Woofy’s point of view, the new squeak toy was not $7.98 worth of fun

The Barsky women took pride in their perfect sense of direction

Maybe there was a bite missing but Mazie was still an attractive slice of pizza

Art and photos by Jane Hart

© Kendal on Hudson Residents Association 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022 all rights reserved.  Please do not reproduce without permission.

Photographs of life at Kendal on Hudson are by residents.