Monday, August 20, 2012
Chicken!
Visited my Mom in Oberlin last week, and I have finally mastered cooking chicken. My problem has really been lack of a roaster that isn't the size of the Capitol Dome, but I figured out that I can use my cast iron dutch oven if the chicken isn't too big. So last night I invited Gonzo over for dinner, and for once I was satisfied with the chicken. Gravy, not so much.
Sunday, August 12, 2012
Summer Receding
The first sign that the end is near is Johnny commenting that the sunlight has turned from yellow to silver. The next is when the sound of cicadas bursts from underlying consciousness into full throat ("notice us, notice us! we will soon be dead and gone, notice us!!) And the third is the morning that I am sitting in the bathtub shaving my legs and there are suddenly goosebumps meeting with the slim blade sliding over my leg.
That goosebump thing happened this morning and put me on notice that Miss Summer is sidling toward the door. It's been a summer to remember. A Canadian beach vacation that ranks as one of the best of my life. Grandchildren on the beach, Dark & Stormy rum drinks, food shared around a dining room table with a genuine crystal chandelier overhead. After that there was Dad's Funeral Gathering/Stewart Bash at the family farm involving ginger molasses ice cream! river trips! ashes to beech! (we buried Dad's ashes under a beech tree dug from the surrounding woods). Followed by a week of the Harvey Family at our house ~ I was in heaven to wake up to Osh every morning. Bike rides, horsie rides, cardboard castles, backyard pool parties, thunder storms, party barge on the Ohio River, and last but not least, Red Buoy!
Heather Harvey, here is the link to The Jim Bowie Song, which John and I attempt to sing every time Oscar starts talking about the red buoy in the Ohio River. Every single boy or girl who was between the ages of 6-12 in the 1950's knows this song. (Seriously, try it on a few in my generation.) Even if you sing 'Red Buoy' instead of 'Jim Bowie', said old person will know exactly what you're talking about and start singing along. They might not get far beyond "a bold adventurous man", but one never knows. When I am old and you are visiting me in the nursing home, you must come swinging gaily down the hall singing this song and all us old folks will be lifted up as you tap into the only memories we probably have left. OK, is that morbid?
That goosebump thing happened this morning and put me on notice that Miss Summer is sidling toward the door. It's been a summer to remember. A Canadian beach vacation that ranks as one of the best of my life. Grandchildren on the beach, Dark & Stormy rum drinks, food shared around a dining room table with a genuine crystal chandelier overhead. After that there was Dad's Funeral Gathering/Stewart Bash at the family farm involving ginger molasses ice cream! river trips! ashes to beech! (we buried Dad's ashes under a beech tree dug from the surrounding woods). Followed by a week of the Harvey Family at our house ~ I was in heaven to wake up to Osh every morning. Bike rides, horsie rides, cardboard castles, backyard pool parties, thunder storms, party barge on the Ohio River, and last but not least, Red Buoy!
Heather Harvey, here is the link to The Jim Bowie Song, which John and I attempt to sing every time Oscar starts talking about the red buoy in the Ohio River. Every single boy or girl who was between the ages of 6-12 in the 1950's knows this song. (Seriously, try it on a few in my generation.) Even if you sing 'Red Buoy' instead of 'Jim Bowie', said old person will know exactly what you're talking about and start singing along. They might not get far beyond "a bold adventurous man", but one never knows. When I am old and you are visiting me in the nursing home, you must come swinging gaily down the hall singing this song and all us old folks will be lifted up as you tap into the only memories we probably have left. OK, is that morbid?
Monday, June 11, 2012
Crackers
Can I just say here how much I love crackers? I'm plumb in the middle of emptying a box of ak-maks, probably my favorite cracker in the world. Especially when they're overdone like this box.
And speaking of things I love, I received a message on the phone this morning from Oscar. It was left entirely by him (OK, Papa was coaching a bit in the background.) "Whis. BB. I want to chat. I love you." Talk about having a hand reach in and rip your heart right out of you. How I am missing my boi, seems so long since I have seen him. The Bash can't come soon enough. He'll be 2 years old on June 23rd.
And speaking of things I love, I received a message on the phone this morning from Oscar. It was left entirely by him (OK, Papa was coaching a bit in the background.) "Whis. BB. I want to chat. I love you." Talk about having a hand reach in and rip your heart right out of you. How I am missing my boi, seems so long since I have seen him. The Bash can't come soon enough. He'll be 2 years old on June 23rd.
Sunday, January 01, 2012
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