How's the Vegetarian Thing Going?

Funny you should ask. The vegetarian thing is going pretty well, but it is certainly not a reduced calorie way of eating, at least for me.  It's no secret, I'm a foodaholic, and I have the body to prove it. I think about food ALL the time. I love to read about it,  plan meals and snacks, shop for it, prepare it, and,of course, eat it. Not so much clean up after eating it. 

These days my sole sources for reading about food are online. Pinterest is my bible. I also participate in a private Facebook page called "What's For Dinner" where a couple dozen of us describe our evening meals. I think I'm the only vegetarian in the group, but I do get lots of meal ideas from these folks, and I enjoy sharing my successes and lamenting my failures. I have more pictures of food on my camera roll than I have pictures of my kids and grandkids. 

My birthday lunch this year: roasted artichokes and asparagus, tomatoes, and tabbouleh

Birthday dessert

s

A favorite tortilla soup

Grandson Ben typically picks up my e-cart from Raleys. Other markets offer the service, but I find Raley's online shopping easy to use and I like  their practice of substituting something bigger and better if the requested item is not available. Lately, I've heard some negative comments about their masking practices while others extol the rigid controls by Safeway. I'm considering switching, Ben also goes to Costco occasionally buying huge amounts of granola, the world's best dill pickles, and other staples of our diet. All this shopping by proxy leaves a void in the full satisfaction of my food obsession. I miss grocery shopping. 

The world's best dill pickles (the artichoke hearts are great, too)

And so I am planning a trip to Trader Joe's. I will be there promptly next Monday morning at 8:00 AM when the store opens to seniors. I will go hungry. I will roll through the doors in my wheel chair with Ben following closely behind with a cart. I want to fall prey to all the yummy things on the shelves and in the freezers. I will choose bananas for 19 cents each, the mango/jicama slaw will leap into the cart as I roll toward the apricots, cantaloupes, peaches, avocados, and limes. Moving on, I give myself permission to select four different cheeses and then Tzatziki, Greek yogurt, butter, and eggs are chosen as I round the corner to the frozen food/cookie and candy aisle. All kinds of frozen foods beckon, prepared meals, and that terrific vanilla ice cream. Thai, Italian, Mexican, Chinese, and Indian selections excite my salivary glands. I can't pass up the truffle flatbread. All the while I'm scanning for alluring condiments and seasonings.  I'm going to try the honey Alepo sauce. I need the mushroom Umami seasoning, and the Everything But the Bagel seasoning. I mustn't forget at least two boxes of triple ginger cookies. And then around the next corner for olive oil (the Greek EVOO is the best), tomato/red pepper soup (low sodium), some Thai yellow curry, and then the next aisle for nuts (unsalted) and all the "cluster" cereals. And the grand finale, drum roll please, the beverage section. I absolutely must have tonic and soda water, vodka, and at least six bottles of wine. This is going to be more than my budgeted $200.

I find I am coming to like spicier foods, veggies can be pretty bland. I use a fair amount of condiments and prepared foods which can be very high in sodium, so I make low sodium selections wherever possible.  I don't miss meat, I don't think I could bring myself to buy it for any reason, but I  haven't discarded the intention to cook a Thanksgiving turkey. We'll see. And wine is less appealing since I've given up meat. I was a moderately sophisticated imbiber and enjoyed pairing good wines to an interesting menu. That has lost its luster when the menu is meatless, although cheese, fruit, and wine make a pretty good combination.

So,what do I really eat?

Breakfast choices: Frozen waffles with peanut butter and a banana or frozen fruit medley; pepper jack  cheese omelet (often with spinach, mushrooms, and onions); plain Greek yogurt with frozen fruit medley stirred in, topped with granola; bagel with cream cheese, fruit

Lunch:  leftovers, soup, salad, fruit, nuts, and cheese, sandwiches, quesadillas

Dinner: lots of frozen meals; spaghetti; Pad Thai; curry; variation on pasta dishes; hearty soups; rice-based concoctions; baked potatoes; tacos; pizza

                               

Omnivores Be Warned! This Post May Contain Triggers

February 1, 2020, was a day I planned to have Ben pick up the groceries on my list. And there was no meat on the list. I had eaten the last of the frozen meals containing chicken the night before and I just didn't feel like eating meat anymore. There is nothing remarkable about the date, that's just when it happened. And I feel like it happened to me, that something external to me had decided that Melody would no longer eat meat, not a personal choice. Kind of like it had been inscribed in the brushed stainless steel finish of the dual refrigerator doors, "No meat shall pass these portals".

I wish I could say it was because of some noble reason like realizing the inefficiency of meat as food for humans. I read Diet For a Small Planet years ago and kept eating meat. And I know cows contribute a lot to the environmental methane overload. All are solid reasons to avoid meat, but didn't sway me.

However, several other things over a long time had lead me to this point. I have always had a gut reaction to meat counters in grocery stores -- just so  much meat, and all of it raw and dead. But, the thought of a nice barbecued rib eye served up with twice-baked potatoes, roasted corn on the cob, and a good bold Cabernet Sauvignon painted over any fleeting thoughts of revulsion. Maybe it was really the thought of the Cab. Sadly, since meat has been off the menu, Cab has lost its allure.

I suppose another factor had been the several trips I had taken to Southern California during 2019, driving up and down the dullest road in America --Interstate 5. Between Sacramento and Bakersfield there is very little in the way of sensory stimulation, except. . .Harris Ranch! The miasma of the feed lots assaults the olfactory nerves for miles around and bring tears to the eyes. There is no escape, no matter how insulated the vehicle, the odor of Cowshwitz permeates. And do you know? There is a restaurant and a hotel there! I can't imagine how anyone could have an appetite, especially arriving from the north where the feed lots sprawl and the prevailing winds conspire to announce the presence of so many thousands of steers literally on their last legs. And who would want to spend the night? To better to soak in the glory (gory?) of it all? And yet, the label Harris Ranch Beef on a plastic-wrapped prime rib in a white Styrofoam tray conjured up visions of a Christmas feast, with mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, Brussels Sprouts (another olfactory assault) and the perfect Cabernet. So, is it the prime rib or the Cab? They are inseparable in my reverie.

And then there is the fact that I co-habit with my grandson, an avowed vegan (until February 1, 2020). He seemed to exist mainly on hummus, guacamole, and granola, with an occasional frozen Pad Thai meal. But, when I stopped eating meat and started cooking vegetarian meals with the possible inclusion of dairy or eggs, he suddenly broadened his food choices to include whatever I prepared. He never proselytized his culinary practices, but his disinterest in meat dishes I prepared had some influence on my conversion. I love to cook for an audience -- feeding the people has always given me joy. When the audience is limited to a single person who is not impressed with virtuosity in the kitchen, what had formerly brought joy, became tiresome. What was the point?

Then there was the time when a truckload of cattle was overturned and around 80 cows escaped. After a few hours they were rounded up and loaded into another truck, with all accounted for and no apparent injuries. The public reaction was bizarre. Everyone was worried about the well-being of the animals and relieved that none had gone missing and that none were hurt. Those creatures were on the way to the feed lots and eventual slaughter. Wouldn't a more compassionate person pray they made their escape?

 

The last straw was the dog. When Oreo was in the throes of her final illness and I became keenly aware of just how sweet, and trusting she was. I realized how all these years she had depended on us to take care of her. It was clear she had feelings. And since she did, doesn't a cow (or chicken, or pig)? Don't confuse me by the fact  that dogs are meat-eaters. A whole lot of what I came to feel has logic holes as big as a Florida sinkhole. 

Fish was kind of a separate issue. It took a while for me to make the mental leap to exclude it. I miss it far more than I miss meat. If I should ever fall off the vegetable wagon, I'm sure it would be for some harvest from the sea. I  miss shrimp, crab, and lobster from time to time, although not enough to buy and cook it. 

Pairings no longer play into my meal planning. I never wonder, does red wine go with brown rice and white wine with white rice? Consequently I'm spending a lot less money on wine. My bank account and my liver rejoice. Of course, as always, Champagne goes with everything.

And so, I simply could not eat meat anymore. I don't know if it's forever, but it is for today. 

Mac and Cheese (Without Ham and Peas)

I'd been thinking there had to be more to Macaroni and Cheese than noodles and cheddar or the blue Kraft box. In years gone by, I prepared a stove top version of the dish for grandkids, Ben and Logan, probably one out of every three nights when they were between the ages of five to fifteen. Then I got fancy and added ham and peas to the mix for a one-pot dinner.  Oddly, I don't recall ever serving it to my children, I'm not sure why, perhaps memory fails.

So, in the throes of quarantine gluttony, I turned to Pinterest (it's what I do when I'm not on FaceBook).  I finally settled on a recipe that called for a ton of four different cheeses and a half ton of whipping cream. Separately, the ingredients sounded delicious and I made the leap to gathering the fixings (not easy when I shop online only twice a month). I wanted to sample an uptown version of good old Mac and Cheese.

The recipe calls for a roux which was really just a bunch of butter fat and four tablespoons of flour, and a pint of whipping cream. And then I added the cheese. My logical mind was telling me that this was a lethal dose of fat and the cooking odors alone could be fatal. But, my quest for a true gourmet Mac and Cheese experience continued. I tried to pour the sauce in all its cheesy glory into the cooked noodles. It had the consistency of molten lava and moved at that speed, which if you live at the base of a volcano is very rapid, but standing over a hot stove was agonizingly slow. Giving up on pouring, I scooped about a third of the mixture into the pasta. It now looked like noodles floating in fondue. Deciding enough was enough, I abandoned the plan to put the whole mess into a baking dish and covered in buttered bread crumbs. It was time for the taste test. My worst fears were realized. It was like eating a cheese-flavored version of the library paste I used to eat in kindergarten and I suspected it would likely have a catastrophic effect on my GI tract. 

I have a lopsided frugality about food. My parents came of age in the depression era and war-time rationing was in effect during my early childhood. I was a proud member of the clean plate club and dutifully thought of the poor starving children in China. So, in my "waste not, want not" convoluted way of thinking, I am willing to buy whatever food I crave, cost be damned, but, I unwilling to throw out leftovers.

And here they are (refrigerated version):

Party On!

 Last night I crossed an item off my bucket list. I had never had Dom Perignon before and I was determined to have it for my 75th birthday. Friend Sharon thought that sounded like a fine idea and suggested a small group of my friends pitch in to buy a bottle and celebrate with me. Well, it sounded like a good idea, but I wasn't too keen on sharing a single bottle with a group of people, so I offered to buy a bottle if the group also bought one. And to sweeten the pot as it were, I had a very fine bottle of Veuve Cliquot on hand, a gift from Lindsay for helping her edit work for her masters degree.
The group also contributed some yummy food to complement the bubbly.

 Sue Walker takes her turn pouring a glass for herself.

 With fierce concentration, Sharon takes her turn. Not a drop was spilled.

 And then the bottle was passed to Molly who has a death grip on the neck of the bottle.

 I didn't think Lindsay would care too much for champagne. I was wrong.

 Andra also said she didn't think she would like it, so she brought a backup bottle of white zin. She never opened the zin and she learned something new about herself.

 Cheers, ladies!

Three bottles and about three hours later, this is how we looked. We felt fine! The wine was wonderful, the food was great and the company fabulous. Now I have to figure out how to celebrate my 80th birthday.

How I Spent the Rest of My Summer Vacation.

 Ben, Danny, and I arrived in Sacramento on Tuesday afternoon, June 11. Colleen was at the airport to meet Danny and whisked him off as quickly as she could. I kind of think she had missed him just a little. Ben and I made our way to the rental car office, picked up a spiffy red Chevy Impala, and drove to Valery's in rush hour traffic. I was nervous about being in heavy traffic after my years in Missouri, but it went very smoothly. We spent a quiet evening playing Mexican Train, well, not too quiet, we laughed ourselves silly and then went to bed exhausted after a long day of travel and a two hour time change.

Wednesday afternoon, Lisa Cardwell and I went to the Purple Place for a drink and some munchies. 

That place hasn't changed a bit in appearance, but the menu has definitely gone upscale. A friend of hers joined us after a bit and we enjoyed getting acquainted while watching the world go by. Then I stood up, announced it was time for me to get going, said my good-byes, and left. It didn't even dawn on me that I had left them with the bill until sometime the next day. I was mortified. 

Before going to the Purple Place, I got to see Lisa's kids Cameron and Alexandra. Cameron has grown so tall and is just a super nice personable kid. Alexandra is quite a talented singer and guitar player. Cameron plays guitar too, but he didn't perform for me this trip.

The second full day Ben and I were in California together, we went out to Davis to go bike shopping. We cruised the city streets looking for bike shops. We saw lots of bikes, including this beauty

but finally settled on this one. Selling points were: the color, green, which is Ben's trademark eco-symbolic favorite; the chain guard to protect against the battering campus bikes suffer; the rack, suitable for mounting saddle bag-type baskets; the absence of a derailleur, the gears are enclosed in the hub of the rear wheel, to prevent parking rack damage; the handy-dandy bell on the handlebars, ubiquitous to Davis bikes; the very sturdy lock affixed to the frame; and the overall form, fit, and function. I hope it serves him well (and doesn't get stolen!). He pedaled it around the campus right after purchasing it and it magically found its way to the Bohart Museum of Entomology where Ben enjoyed staring at exotic insects and visiting with a PhD student who worked there. I do hope Ben will be able to work there in time.

While Ben was off exploring, I was visiting with my dear friend Nancy. She took the train (and car and BART) from San Mateo to meet me in Davis for lunch. She also met this engaging bit of sidewalk art. Oh, how I love Davis. I could envision retiring there, should I ever retire. She looks terrific (I meant Nancy) and as always it was wonderful to spend even a few hours with her. We had lunch and strolled for a while. Colleen just happened to be passing through Davis on her way to San Mateo, so she was able to give Nancy a ride back to her car parked at the BART station. The day was perfect, maybe mid-80's, nothing like the beastly heat they have endured the past week. We really hit it lucky.

The next week, Ben and I drove up to Pioneer to visit my high school friends, Jack and Linda. Linda has been recovering from a difficult surgery and is taking things a bit slow. But, we had a nice, albeit brief visit. I regret not getting any photos of either Lisa or Jack and Linda. 

The day before I left, Ben and I made my ritual visit to Robin's grave and washed off the headstone with champagne, saving the last mouthful to drink a toast to her memory. It's so hard to believe all these years have past.

Many of Ben's ancestors are buried in Gold Country cemeteries.  We made a stop at Placerville's Union Cemetery where the Blair marker stands at the highest point in the Cemetery. There are maybe a dozen people buried in the plot, but not all of them are noted on the marker. The cemetery has records of who is buried there.

Dinner at a Thai restaurant with Valery's friends, Dorothy and Chuck, was a real treat. We must have sat at our table for 2-1/2 hours, but no one seemed to mind. Ben and Chuck really hit it off. Chuck is a Chemistry professor and they found much to talk about, scientist to scientist. Dorothy is a quilter and I enjoyed visiting her studio on a previous visit to California.

Foodie that I am, no visit to California would be complete without sampling some of the fresh produce I miss. So, I had some fresh Sloughhouse corn, yummy artichokes, and asparagus. We can get corn, artichokes, and asparagus in Missouri, but they just aren't the same.  

And I came home all alone. Ben stayed with Valery so he can start UC Davis in the fall and Danny traveled home separately on Friday. 

The Picnic

Sunday, the day following Bill and Brit's wedding, some friends and family members gathered at the Marshall Monument picnic ground of the Marshall Gold Discovery State Park in Coloma, California. I love this park for historical and sentimental reasons. And I love this picnic ground in particular. 

The area is steeped in family history. My great-great grandfather, Ezra Schooley, is buried in Coloma's Pioneer Cemetery where his is the oldest standing grave. Ezra didn't make it to Coloma alive; according to newspaper accounts from that time, ". . .he died ten miles short of the diggings, from the disease of the country."  Ironically, before I ever heard of Ezra Schooley, I bought a home in El Dorado Hills, which is about ten miles from Coloma, along the historical road that leads to the diggings. It could not have been any further than five miles from the spot where Ezra died.

My great grandfather, James Blair, wed Ezra's daughter, Amanda Schooley, in 1865. James and his brother, John, had established Sportsman's Hall in Pollock Pines, just a bit further east.

Sportsman's Hall served as an inn and a place to layover while wagon teams waited their turn to cross the Sierras on the one-way treacherous road that lead to the Comstock mines just east of Carson City. It also served as a pony express station. Today it is still in operation as a restaurant. My great grandmother, Amanda Schooley Blair, is standing on the porch with her two oldest daughters in this photo (one half of a sterioptican photo). 

Ernest, the son of James and Amanda Blair married my grandmother Minnie Pauline Nichols (born in Folsom, CA) in 1908. At the time of their courtship, both were living in Placerville and would on occassion take a day trip and picnic at the newly erected Marshall Monument in Coloma. 

So, to make a short story long, that is one of the reasons I enjoy visiting that picnic ground -- knowing that I am treading the ground trod by my grandparents during their courtship.

 Easily recognizable is Ben in the green shirt, cousin Robby sits next to him and then sister Valery and her friend, Jim.

 Brother Rick and his wife Kathy enjoy a moment of solitude away from the madding crowd. The picnic tables and barbecue pits are of WPA construction.

The first three people on the left are Kim, Jeannie and Jason. Kim is Jason's wife and Jeannie is Kim's mother. Jason was adopted at birth by my brother and his ex-wife. Jason reunited with his birth mother a couple of years ago in a fairy tale story that brings tears to my eyes every time I think of it. Jason's birth mother, Dianne and her husband Danny sit across the table from Kim. Dianne released Jason for adoption when she was fifteen years old and never had another child. Reuniting with Jason was for her a miracle and they have been very present in each other's lives since.

Sitting next to Danny are Tom and Nichole (Tom is blocking Nichole). Tom and Nichole along with their daughter Mallaika have the distinction of being the ones who traveled furthest for the wedding. They make their home in North Dartmouth, MA, where Tom has just completed his first year of law school.

Folks you haven't seen in other photos are Susie Lee, girlhood friend of sister Valery, standing on the left. Next to her is Jason, then Rachel and Kevin. Irene Ogawa is seated in front of Kevin. She is a friend of mine from ROLM/IBM days twenty-five years ago.

And here are the newlyweds -- Bill and Brittany Paine. To the left of Bill are Amy Schulze and her husband Bill. Amy was Ben's (and Logan's) second grade teacher in California and she remains forever in our hearts and lives. She and Bill live in the Coloma area where she has a bunch of dogs and a horse. Bill keeps bees, is a birder, and a retired veterinarian (a providential match for dog lover Amy). They are wonderful people and intend to stay active in Ben's new life in California.

Avoiding inclusion in any pictures, but making a token appearance, was Seth Matthews, son of my dear friend, Nancy Matthews. Nancy and I were neighbors at the time Kevin and Colleen were born. Kevin, Colleen, and Seth have known each other all their lives. Seth is now assistant DA in nearby Calaveras County.

All told, it was a glorious day, a perfect balance to the wedding of the previous day, and a great chance to connect with some folks who didn't make it to the wedding.

I'll Take the White One

Danny went car shopping the other day when his mom Colleen and brother Robby came to town. He tried on the Smart Car, but it was too small.

Kevin and Rachel came down from Kansas City that same weekend to celebrate the 49th birthday of Kevin and his twin, Colleen. We gorged on a meal of childhood favorite foods: flank steak marinated in teriyaki, rosemary garlic roasted potatoes, green beans lyonnaise, homemade German's Sweet Chocolate cake, homemade carrot cake and of course, clam dip. The requisite birthday song was sung complete with "Many more to you, Woooappy birthday dear. . ."

Danny is a great cook and has spent a lot of time working in restaurants -- Italian is his specialty. Here he and his mom are putting together a wonderful meal of eggplant parmigiana, spaghetti with browned butter and some kind of cheese, buttery, cheesy, garlicky breadsticks, and a tossed green salad. It smelled yummy and tasted even better (and it used every pot and pan in the kitchen!).

Robby is on his way home, probably a little the worse for the sleepless nights hanging out with his cousins. Saying goodbye was hard to do, he's a great kid.

And here they go, off to the Kansas City airport in Danny's new Mitsubishi Endeavor (it was just the right size for him). They were fortunate to get away in the slight lull between this week's record-breaking snow storms. I hated to see them go, but was grateful for their safe travels. I hope they hurry back.

Reunion, Part 3

The Golden Girls reunion continued with more eating, drinking, gabbing, and sight-seeing.

 On the third evening, we again enjoyed Mel's company along with bar food and a couple of bottles of wine carried back to our rooms. Feeling more comfortable with each other, our conversation drifted to more controversial topics (I mean politics) and although we did not necessarily agree, we navigated those tricky waters with grace and respect.

The Skunk Train travels from Fort Bragg half-way to Willits where passengers disembark for a barbecue lunch in a redwood grove while the train turns around and returns to Fort Bragg (after the passengers have re-embarked, of course). We enjoyed the trip to sunny weather through glorious old-growth redwood forests. The train travels through territory inaccessible by road, so it is serene and isolated. Several cabins are situated along the route, built around 75 years ago on leased land. These cabins cannot be sold, but can be inherited and so they remain family retreats for a select few families. They can be reached only by the Skunk Train, and all supplies must come in by train. They have propane, but no generators. I don't know if they have wells and septic, or if its outhouses and imported water. Seems appealing to me as a perfect writer's retreat.

 We ran into a fellow train traveler later in the day when we walked around MacKerricher State Park and he accommodated us by taking this group photo.

 The last morning we returned to the scene of our first meal at Little River Inn and enjoyed breakfast and our last meal together before departing. We said a reluctant good-bye to Janet and talked about planning the next reunion, closer to Marilyn so that she can comfortably join us.

 We made our way south once again driving through the redwoods and the Anderson Valley, turning further inland to Clear Lake, a lunch stop in Williams and then over to Interstate 5 and the Sacramento airport where Linda and I said good-bye to Merle.

 

Jack met Linda at the car rental agency and Valery picked me up. We returned to her house and the next phase of my many-fold reunions began.

Reunion, part 2

This second phase of my California reunions reaches back to my high school days. I get to spend four days with three of my high school girl friends. We're staying at the place owned and run by the family of a fellow classmate and his wife. The gorgeous Little River Inn is an historic Inn (built in the 1860's as a dairy farm) overlooking a beautiful cove on the Mendocino coast.

We arrived at Little River Inn and sat on the verandah watching, listening to, smelling the ocean, and feeling its cool salty dampness on our skins. It wasn't cold, just serene and calming after our six hour drive from Sacramento through the Napa and Sonoma Valley vineyards, the Anderson valley, the redwoods, and finally to the coast. We saw the best California had to offer and driving in the company of dear old girl friends made it perfect. Only with all women in the car were we able to turn around and go back to the In N Out Burger I had zipped past. A man would have kept driving to the "next" place. In fact, I zipped past it a second time, but arrived at the right place on the third attempt. And it was worth it! I haven't had an In N Out Burger in years, didn't even know I missed them, but boy, was it good! 

Our host and classmate invited us to be his guests at dinner that evening at the Inn's fabulous restaurant. It's hard to beat the combination of great food and wine while celebrating and reminiscing with dear old friends. Laughing, "do you remembers," confessions of high school hijinks and crushes, and all the "what ever happened to . . . " made the evening pass all too quickly. But by around nine o'clock we were sufficiently sated (and just a bit drunk) to toddle off to our rooms and get ready for the next day.

We eased into our first full day together by starting with room service breakfast on the verandah. We moved through the morning very slowly and then went off to Fort Bragg for a bit of exploring and picking up a few necessaries.

And a perfect day ended with another perfect meal, this time at the home of our host and his wife. He and his wife prepared wild salmon with home or locally grown veggies and served wonderful local wines. He is a trumpet player and friend Janet is a pianist, so they entertained us after dinner with an impromptu concert.

And now, we're ready for yet another day of revelry!

Hen Party

Friend Sharon had a birthday a week ago and I wanted to celebrate with her. Because she's so skilled at attracting interesting people, I asked her to choose four friends to invite for lunch. And she did. I had a great time planning the party and preparing the food and then they all showed up and the fun began. Going around the table from the left: Louise (from church and she went to St Louis with us a couple of weeks ago) Delys (from church) Sharon, the birthday girl, Sue (also from church) is standing between Sharon and me, and Molly, long-time friend of Sharon and fellow book club member.
We just sat around eating and talking, and oh yeah, there was that Proseco, too. I thought it was a great group -- well done, Sharon! And have a good year.

Home Again, At Last!

Logan's home from his visit with Tom, Nichole, and Mallaika. At least I think that's where he was. In typical teen-aged fashion, he hasn't told me much about it, but I'll piece it together over time by eavesdropping when he talks to his friends. I told him to take lots of pictures of the people and what I got was this photo of Brown University's gate, one of his left hand holding a lobster, and one of his right hand holding a large burrito. I'll spare you those and instead post my own food pictures. He did come home very excited about trying to get into Harvard. He has a plan in place to try to establish a project with the Christian County Courts to demonstrate leadership, commitment, and community service, and to bolster his chances for admission to Harvard. It sounds interesting and possible, I hope he stays with it.

He was two days late getting home because of a fierce storm that closed the Providence airport, cancelling his scheduled flight. When I called the airline to rebook him, they told me the first available seat was Friday, two days later. Seemed odd to me, so I looked online and found eight coach seats available on the plane a day earlier. Not willing to spend another half hour on hold while I tried to negotiate for the earlier flight, I left well enough alone. But, I really don't understand. It left me feeling sad about the state of the industry and just a tad anxious about my upcoming trip in September.

Here's my food picture -- the table topper of the month, and the week's haul from the Farmer's Market. I got long red beans, eggplant, and beets from the Millsap's and carrots, corn, and cantaloupe from other vendors. The carrots aren't very good -- woody and bitter, but the rest is yummy. We're having the corn tonight with cedar-planked salmon (Ben gets a cedar-planked veggie burger).

Friday was Ben's seventeenth birthday. He seems so adult in many ways and yet so young in others. I guess that's what adolescence is all about. We celebrated quietly, he started the day with his traditional birthday batch of monkey bread and opening gifts from me -- a few nature and science books. I hope he likes them. And then ended the day with strawberry shortcake.