ComputingColumbinesI’m used to doing round trips to places, but circumstances are the verge of making one giant k-turn after which going back to some of those places will be impossible.  Simultaneously, a place that was squarely in the “holiday” box will be migrating into the “ordinary, work-a-day” box, and that knocks some formerly-comforting edges off each concept.

Surely, there’s a Judith Viorst poem or essay about this somewhere; I don’t have the patience to look it up at the moment.

The lack of patience might be a side effect of the end of the semester — I don’t have traditional grades due this time around, but I’ve got plenty of papers to evaluate, and I feel a little like some of the freshmen I’ve taught in the past, whose sentences wrapped so tightly in upon themselves that the meaning so clear to them was barely visible to any other reader. There’s every chance I’m not making a great deal of sense to anyone, not even to myself at the moment.

So try again later.  Revise, refine, rethink.


What’s inside?

Gaspump gearsI could just have easily asked “What’s behind this?” If we didn’t travel via asphalt and gas and steel, this construct wouldn’t have been necessary. But it’s nice seeing inside, and interesting to think about whoever had to maintain and certify this unit.  Some jobs are kept invisible, even though they’re more interesting than many of the obvious ones…

[Of course, this could just be the kind of observation one expects from somebody who is typically working behind the scenes and only occassionally out front talking to the audience…]

Caption this….



My German may be questionable, but these roasted quince quarters are most definitely delicious!!!

On a walk last week

Peaceable-WindowOur corner of the world has a market for meditation figurines for cats, for cat owners, for people who think this sort of sculpture is necesary, cute, droll, something. Pick something. Buy something.  Wrap electrical wire around it and make art, make a statement, make a fire hazard.

Celebrate the season.

Have some tea.

March in the cold.

Sing the sun back into this section of the sky.

About that soup


With turkey and pomegranate sauce on a cheezy biscuit and some Bar Harbor Blueberry ale

On the hopeful basis of “surely you can make soup even with a freezer-burned chunk of hambone”, I sauteed some cauliflower, carrots, mushrooms, etc. with some Herbs de Provence and garlic, added the hambone, then some pink beans, the last of the hard cider, and ….I’m sure there was something else

Oh, part of a golden beet. I thought it would add a little color.

It’s been simmering for over an hour now, and the bits of meat on the hambone are dutifully falling off into the soup, which tastes pretty good.

I’m afraid it’s a little late for me to be eating it, but I’m sure it will be even better tomorrow, if Word doesn’t get any this evening.


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