Further Adventures in Vegetable Gardening

Further adventures in vegetable gardening ... eating!

Cucumber sprinkled with Feta and drizzled with Greek vinaigrette

Cherry tomato topped with sea salt and fresh basil, drizzled with balsamic vinaigrette

#growyourownfood #backyardgarden

Remembering Hunter

Little wave of nostalgia:

An early morning scene from Hunter Mountain Resort in the Catskills. We were there for the International Celtic Festival.

Our 10+ years on the road took Greg and Maggie Muggins and me to so many places - places I'd probably never have seen, otherwise. A few of the places, I've since revisited. Some of the other places, like locales in the Catskills or the UP, I'm thinking I should see again. They were lovely places that spoke to the wanderer in me, more than any top vacation attraction could.

"Take a Hike" Has Its Rewards

 

Looking out toward Linville Gorge

Just Being Honest

Sharing this, a screenshot from Twitter, because it's important.

And though they say never to read the comments on social medai, I did, and was (predictably) disappointed at some of the push-back.

So in the spirit of honesty and candor, let me offer my own take on this meme. It is possible to be plain-spoken (honest and candid) and not be thought rude:

• Most people can perceive your intent, and if you seem to take delight in handing out (often, unsolicited) judgment, you'll be labeled as rude.
• Your audience can tell if you're deliberately trying to embarrass/humiliate/hurt someone, and if you are, you deserve to be labeled as rude.
• Make a joke or remark that reduces someone to a label (be it race, gender identity, hair/skin color, political affiliation, heritage, whatever) is rude. I said what I said.  

If you delight in being rude, have at it. But don't try to pretend you're "just being honest."

On Henry's Gotcha Day, Which Happens to Coincide with Mother's Day, Which Happens ...

 

My heart is breaking into a million pieces tonight.

Unless some improbable miracle happens, I'll be saying goodbye to my beloved Henry-Dog tomorrow. I'm crying so much that I can hardly see to type, but I need to ask for prayers and well-wishes for the courage to let him go.

He's about 15 years old now -- pretty old for a Retriever -- and it's been just about 11 months since the discovery that Henry has multiple cancers. Honestly, that he's here at all right now seems pretty miraculous; I fully expected to lose him last June. He's stayed comfortable (as far as I can tell ... ) these many months, with medications and a change in diet and love, lots of love. But I can tell that he must really be struggling with a new physical issue, and I just can't let him struggle any more, not on my account. My brother thinks that Henry's been putting a brave face on things, for some time now, out of his devotion to me; I suspect that's close to the truth.

I've cried off and on pretty much all day, sometimes with guilt and regret for all the times that I might have done more for Henry. But then I look at all of the adventures we've shared -- traveling all over the US and parts of Canada, camping, hiking, trail-walking, sharing campfires and beach walks and lazy evenings doing absolutely nothing -- and I think he's had a pretty remarkable life, and I know that my life with him in it has been pretty remarkable.

He helped mend the hole in Greg's heart after Maggie Muggins's death, and he helped to mend the hole in mine after Greg's death. Had it not been for Henry, I wouldn't even have been able to get out of bed some days. The necessity of caring for his needs was a gentle reminder that Life goes on.

The picture is an old one, from about 8 years ago, but the expression is the one I'll remember best. This is the face of devotion, of loyalty, of caring, of earnest dedication to the task of being the best protector-dog and adventure-buddy I could've ever imagined. 

My Henry-Dog

New Lessons Learned from an Old Dog

Almost every day I learn something new from my old dog.

He shies away from my hand when I go to pet him. Sometimes he even opens his mouth, as if to bite. But I've realized that, as his sight dims, he sees only the shadow and it's scary to him. Once he catches the scent and realizes it's me, he leans into the petting with joyful abandon, as you see.

There's probably a lesson in there: maybe a lesson about fear and aggression and how they're not always what they appear to be on the surface.

Dogs are great teachers, and I'm here for it.

Farewell, Yellow Brick Road

 

I just finished watching Elton John Live: Farewell from Dodger Stadium.

My heart is full and I shed more than a few tears as I watched. Elton John has been a huge musical influence in my life. 

I started playing the piano when I was six years old. A lot of little girls in my hometown took piano lessons, though only a few stuck with it for more than a couple of years or so. It just wasn't cool to play the piano.

Not that anybody teased me or bullied me for playing! But very few friends really noticed ... it's funny that, as important as piano was to me -- after all, piano lessons took up ten years of my life and by the time I was a senior in high school I was practicing up to six hours a day -- as important as piano was in my life, there have been former classmates who have been surprised to learn that I am a musician!

Elton John showed me that there was potential for a pianist beyond the classical concert stage or church musician or piano teacher. I've since realized that there were other examples all along: Thelonious Monk and Duke Ellington became famous in the world of jazz long before I was born. Scott Joplin's brand of ragtime music was occasionally heard in old TV westerns and became wildly popular for a period because of "The Sting." There was Jerry Lee Lewis ... but I could never envision myself playing his style of music. 

It was Elton John, with his arpeggiated chords, and unconventional voicings and bass lines, and rhythms that helped me to better understand the piano as percussion instrument, who fired my imagination for possibilities. From the moment that I heard his first single, "Your Song," I was hooked. 

I'd never abandon all the Bach and Beethoven and Chopin that I'd studied for so many years. They are such an excellent foundation for any type of music that one may wish to pursue! And though Elton John was my first "piano hero" from the world of popular music, there are others ... right up there is Billy Joel, who incorporated Beethoven into one of his own songs; and to an extent Barry Manilow, who borrowed from Chopin to compose his hit "Could It Be Magic." Stevie Wonder and Freddy Mercury and Paul McCartney and Carole King and Alicia Keys have all since impressed me in their use of the piano.

But Elton John's my favorite. I've seen him in concert several times -- twice with Billy Joel, and what a treat for me! -- and I'll probably watch this Disney+ presentation a couple more times before they pull it into the vault. 

Thank you, Sir Elton. You'll never know me, but you've influenced me more than you could ever know.