A welcome change

I am usually adverse to any type of change. There has been a change in the weather that is really welcome. The last two mornings when I stepped out onto the porch to have morning coffee, I had to go back inside to put a shirt on. It is that cool, almost cold out before the Sun comes up. I have been harvesting peppers and parsley and herbs from the containers. I have actually had several ripe tomatoes and have a cucumber and greens that will soon be a salad. I don't think that I have had a salad in years. We are entering August and soon it will be the blessed sweater weather. The leaves will turn, there will be frost on the porch, and we will enter into the restful time of Winter and hot cocoa and pies and baking. That is one of the attractions of New England, there is always another season coming. They are all anticipated greatly and don't wear out their welcome by staying too long. These changes are good.

Sometimes

Sometimes the world is a place of wonder and beauty. The birds are singing, the breeze is gentle, and I rejoice in the gentle happiness of being alive.
Sometimes I feel as if life has served me a big bowl of donkey fazoo. Today is a fazoo day but when life gives you fazoo, make a big plate of fazoo burgers.
I have a piece of beef in the refrigerator that needs cooking. I have been considering chili or Italian meat sauce or hamburgers and beans. Maybe I will make Yankee Chili.
Yankee Chili consists of hamburger, baked beans, onions, green peppers, garlic, tomatoes, and cold beer while it cooks. An extra shot of molasses at the end makes it perfect. Decision made!

In the Middle of the Night

Here I am again, up in the middle of the night. It isn't that I have trouble sleeping. The problem is that I have no trouble sleeping at all. It is midnight and I have already had ten hours of sleep.
It was hot and humid yesterday so I retreated to the coolness of the bedroom and started to read. The last thing that I remember reading was some Wordsworth and I must have dozed off around two P.M..
It is very pleasant right now. There is a cool breeze coming through the window and I am listening to Katydids in the trees outside. The sound of Katydids is pleasant but makes one glad that Katydids have no access to electric amplifiers. They are not exactly melodious. Katydids would be a good name for the band of the boy next door. Unfortunately they do have access to electric amplifiers. They do not have access to the knobs that turn down the volume. Neither did I when my Father used to holler up the stairs "Turn that darned thing down!".
So "As you sow....". Who knew that reaping could be so many years away?

Cool Breeze

Cool Breeze was the name of the dog that my friend Susanne Peterson had. Cool breeze is also what is wafting through the window as I sit here.
It has been very warm the last few days, very warm with too much humidity. Last evening I retreated early to the comfort of the cooler bedroom and soon fell asleep while reading. This led to missing Hercule Poirot on PBS. I was disappointed when I awoke this morning and realized that I had missed it. There are very few things on television that I actually enjoy and Poirot is the major one. It must be because I identify so much with his fussiness.
From what I can glean from the news, leaders of many countries are once again beating the war drums. Fools! What ever happened to the days when the leader was the first man in the front lines. Even if they weren't, they were at least on the battlefield. Even Napoleon was within range of his opponent's cannon. John of Bohemia led the last charge of his knights even though he was blind. Alexander was always at the forefront of his battles. There might be a lot less conflict if today's leaders had to face the dangers that their troops face instead of directing things from underground bunkers miles away from the carnage. It brings to mind an old adage: "Old men make war, young men die in it.". Did we learn nothing from Flanders Field?
Make sure that your children learn "Dulce et Decorum Est.". The latest folly is our attempt to elect by a national plebiscite a leader of Pashtun tribesmen. Doesn't anyone realize that they have an Electoral College that actually works? You can't win over the hearts and minds of a nation by blowing their hearts and minds all over the landscape. They tend to resent that.

Play a Song for Me

Last night I watched two specials on PBS. One was about Neil Young and one was about Bob Dylan. The similarities and differences between the two men was remarkable.
Both men appeared to not have been a very good companion when they were younger. Young doesn't appeared to have changed much but Dylan seems to have aged well like an old wine. Neither had an outstanding singing voice but each one was the voice of their generational sphere.
Dylan seemed to come off as the nicer person. It is strange that the most remote of these personalities should seem so human. The humor and wit of the younger Dylan was refreshing. The way in which he pursued his muse was admirable. Despite almost the whole world rejecting his change of instruments, he carried on towards his goal. He seems to have never yearned after fame or gold but simply gone his own way.
Young seems to have the bigger ego but Dylan showed great respect and admiration of those that went before him. His show also had extensive interviews with Joan Baez, something that I could sit and watch all night. That woman showed such intelligence and talent and compassion and courage in her life that she has become an icon of my life.
Speaking of the term "my" or the term "I", Young uses it a lot and the people on the peripherals of each entertainer are redolent with tales of how important they were to the careers of each but Dylan doesn't seem obsessed with the terms "Me", "My", or "I". His reverant descriptions of Pete Seegar and Johnny Cash were moving. His cynical, humorous,wit applied to a young Bob Dylan gave a new view of him.
Those men were the voices of a turbulent, strident time. The times were bathed in violence and dissidence. The people were of a kinder, gentler, more human type. They cared. If only Joan Baez could play a song for us now. Perhaps she and Dylan could share one final stage. It might heal some old wounds and some new ones.

Parting can be not so sorrowful

Recently Daughter #1 expressed an interest in bacon. The following link gives an old secret recipe from The Catholic Housewife's Alternatives to Divorce Cookbook.
http://www.bbqaddicts.com/blog/recipes/bacon-explosion/

Apply twice a week and rid your home of noxious elements.

Creature of the Night

I have become a Creature of the Night. I have not done so because of some sinister metamorphisis. I have done so because of the heat during the afternoons. The temperature has been over eighty degrees each afternoon for several days. While those temperatures are not overly oppressive, they are not comfortable so I retreat to the bedroom which is air conditioned. I lay down and read and soon begin to snooze. I usually wake up around two o'clock A.M. and get up as it is relatively cooler then. There is a gentle cool breeze coming in the window even as I type these words.
I have coffe on the porch and listen to the sounds of the night. Many years ago I was uncomfortable in the dark. That condition persisted until my Father explained to me that mankind is the most fearsome creature of the night. No denizen of the dark can compare to the ferocity of a deviant human being. Suddenly the dark became no longer fearsome but a gentle soft blanket that allows one to concentrate on the senses other than sight. The sense of hearing and smell and touch all now get a chance to report their findings without being overpowered by the tyranny of sight. Gentle is the night and soft is its touch. Earlier this Summer the lilac bushes across the driveway were a special treat in the night.
There is another special time. Just as the dawn begins to paint the sky, the fragrance of frying eggs and bacon and brewing coffee heralds the morning of the neighbors. It is a moving time and reminds me of an old rhyme.
"In the morning when I wakey, all I want is eggs and bakey.". It is good to start the day with a potential embollism.
Yesterday I washed and disinfected the kitchen floor. Today I will bleach and wash my dirty laundry. I will not hang it outside on the clothes line to dry as I was told a long time ago that it is not a good idea to air your dirty laundry for the neighbors to see. So bleach is on the schedule for today also. I use a lot of bleach, about three gallons a month. Bleach is an old trusted friend. It is possible for any germ that reproduces sexually to develop a resistance to germicides but it is not possible to develop a resistance to a substance that dissolves you instead of poisoning you.