The End is Here!!

 

Well, the end of the year, not to be too melodramatic! And good-bye 2021!!

Sorry but maybe it IS the end of civilization as we have known it. I attempted to buy Bob a new TV for Christmas. Here's our old TV: 

Probably a lovely set in it's day but it's got a gigantic back that sticks out a good 18" and it doesn't have a very large picture area. It's old! And the modem that we require to allow the TV to "talk" to the dvd player needs a firm whack every few minutes to keep it running. (*1) We decided we needed a new TV.

 So I purchased what looked to me to be a huge step up; like 32" (diagonal) screen. And in all fairness, I'd done a ton of research and determined the brand and approximate size but was utterly intimidated and bowled over by all the enormous screens on view at the store. I felt like I'd crawled out from under a rock. I quickly selected my 32" set and fled the store.

I presented it to Bob on Christmas and we were both excited at the prospect of watching TV while lying in bed and feeling all luxurious and up-to-date. But somehow, I had misgivings when we brought the TV upstairs. It looked less huge; in fact, I thought it looked small. We debated for a while and finally agreed. We'd go one size up.

(Another consideration is this lovely sculpture that resides on top of the TV cabinet. The cabinet needs to accommodate TV and sculpture. Then we to arrived at wall mounting the TV and put the sculpture on another surface...)

So we went to the store- for us a still unusual excursion as COVID has kept us close to home and away from "the public"- and return the new but too small TV. We scouted the rear of the big box store, found the bigger TVs and instead of the 40", I see Bob's eyes go wide and he says, "That's the perfect size!" pointing at a 43" model. So we truly did graduate from old set to 32" all the way up to 43". (*2) The punchline is that they had two of these behemoths in stock, but the boxes were water damaged and we didn't want to take a chance on a defective TV and another return trip. I finally ordered the 43" on-line.

So we're awaiting delivery of the new member of our household. I alluded to the end being near and part of me is afraid of the novelty of a giant screen. Will it become so seductive as to reduce the time we spend reading? Will we become "like everyone else", glued to a huge screen and watching endless hours of mindless dreck? I fear for our future! Oh well, welcome to 2022!

(*1) We tried to purchase a new modem-thing and were laughed out of BestBuy and WalMart. How's that for humiliation?!? 

(*2) And yes, there are far gigantic-er tVs out there. 65", 75"... we'd have to get a bigger wall to make space for these "home theaters". And neither one of us wants our lives dominated by a TV that big!

 

Living the Life Historical

 

The other day, while out gleaning the field of horse poop, it dawned on me that I could be a peasant from any time in history. Essentially my activity- and even my garb- could have been from two, three, four (or more) hundred years ago. I asked Bob to document me in all my earthy glory. And it confirmed what I feared: I make a pretty good peasant.

A case in point. Same pitchfork (well, mine is plastic and came from tractor Supply. She probably made hers!), same basic stance, similar head gear (but her ground length skirt is fetching!)... you get the idea. I probably staggered off to lunch on the same moldy potatoes as her!

This is a painting by Kazimir Malevich entitled something like "Peasant Out in the Field" I don't know where his pitchfork went, but he's got that same attitude as me and the romanticized peasant in the above painting or even this woman with a wheelbarrow by Millet. Notice how our "technology" hasn't changed!

(She's probably praying that she smells better than I do when I'm done collecting manure!) I rest my case. I could be whisked back in time in some accident created by a tesseract! Why, I'd fit right in! Further oddball illustration is the below picture sent to me by my sister Cathy (Hi Cathy!). It purports to be a photo promoting vacationing in Estonia- one 1/2 of our family background. I'd look at home among these fine folks, too!

Satan's Pony

Doesn't Neko just look the picture of innocence all sleepy in the morning sun? Isn't she sweet? Isn't she just the bestest little pony? Ha! Don't let her fool you for one minute. Neko has been busy devising devious plots and dastardly deeds!

The other day, at around 6:30 when it's still dark, I go to feed the horses. Usually there are two semi-visible silhouettes near the top of the field, eagerly awaiting their slops 'n' grub. This morning, I'm seeing Maggie and I think, "Oh, Neko must be in the barn or lower down in the field".  But as I round the barn, I see Neko and it takes a minute for me to decipher why she looks odd. Then I realize she's on the wrong side of the fence!

She herself seems a tad confused or embarrassed (yes, I'm anthropomorphizing) and follows me through the side gate, docile and hungry. I know now that this is not the first time she has escaped; last week, Bob announced that there were piles of horse poop behind his studio. I said, "Nay; it cannot be our horses. They're both present and accounted for"... which they were. A careful tour of the fence perimeter showed no signs of having been pulled down so we came to the conclusion that someone else's horse must have gotten loose and come to visit Maggie and Neko. But having found her on the wrong side of the fence, I now know better.

Neko's like, "Whaddyou lookin' at?" It still remains quite a mystery how she got herself through the ELECTRIC fence- unscathed- and back inside (last week). I realize poor Neko is certain she's starving to death and must escape from our evil pasture to find sufficient forage, but she really is a Houdini. She had no scrapes, no damage to her person, did not disrupt the fence. The fact that she got herself back in; I just don't know how she did it.

Hopefully, she will be unable to duplicate her recent nightly escapades as I ran out to Home Depot and secured a bundle of fiberglass poles and reinforced the fence line. (Like I really felt like doing this... I was hoping to go for a ride that afternoon.) She came to the bottom of the field and watched me insert the new poles, as I lectured her about her perfidy. I wish she were contrite!

Later that same day, I caught her with her big fat head pushed sideways, between the mesh fence and the hot electric line, bending another section of fence down so as to snack on the other side. Bob and I are in the process of replacing this fence line, as it is old and rusty. But now we're required to double up on the electric line. Ah! The joys of horse ownership!

First Blood

 

It was going to happen some day; Robin actually caught- and killed!- an animal. Robin chases everything: squirrels, birds, leaves, shadows... seemingly she is a born hunter. (*1) But despite many heroic attempts at catching anything, it has taken Robin almost six years to achieve the status of Official Hunter.

She had been pursuing the above rodent (a shrew.. similar to mice and moles and voles) for several days. It apparently lived in the patch of lirope beneath the Tiger Eye Sumac. Certainly, it attracted her attention whenever she was in the vicinity. 

She finally nailed it one day last week and proceeded to "play" with it and one last toss in the air dispatched it to the Great Shew Beyond. (*2) However, once it was dead, a look of anguish seemed to cross her face. She sat and stared at it and all I can say is she seemed to experience some sort of existential remorse. Bob noticed this, too. (*3) Robin was no doubt analyzing the impermanence of life and considering what happens "afterwards". It affected her profoundly!

This is how Robin typically hunts. She up ends her toy box- which need frequent replacement as she chews the box apart as sport- and selects one toy to terrorize. (By the way, she totally ignores that pink camouflage alien in the front of the picture. Not sure why) She then shakes it and tosses it and eviscerates it.

Look at that face! You would never know that I had just spent twenty minutes performing surgery on this poor thing. Robin promptly pulled it's nose off, stuffing every where! I don't think she experiences and remorse about "killing" stuffed animals. I'm sure she knows the difference.

Although who knows? Maybe now that our little angel has tasted blood, and contemplated the loss of life, she'll reconsider her approach to hunting artificial game. She does look a bit contrite in the picture above...

(*1) And you would expect this as both her parents were field hunting dogs. You will perhaps recall that her mother, Chloe, was a Long Haired Weimaraner and her father, Gunnar, was a Llewellyn English Setter. 

(*2) I'm really glad she killed it as our previous dog Ricky used catch things but never figured out how to kill them. I followed her around with a shovel, finishing off what she had started. It was not the most fun I've ever had!

(*3) Yes, I know: many will find it anthropomorphizing and "inappropriate" to assign "human" emotions to dogs, but believe me, Robin the Good seemed bummed and confused.

Already Waiting for Spring

 

I don't know about you, but I'm ready for spring.The days have been getting shorter and darker, I'm still in a state of continual re-adjustment to the time change and suddenly it's cold. But tell that to the above primroses. These flowers are usually a tell-tale sign that spring has arrived; these crazy plants seem to bloom all year long. It's November, it's 23 degrees over night and they're like, "Perfect weather!" The kicker is that they came from Stop and Shop or Shop Rite- yes, I guess the variety is Super Market Mix. I buy them (marked down, of course!) in February so as to have color in the house and then plant them outdoors when spring finally arrives. Originally I thought we'd get a season's flowers and then they'd die but boy did I get a tremendous surprise when they came back, year after year. Truly perennial! 

I've got quite a few of them now. Last year, they were blooming in the snow so go figure: they must be some new mutant variety dreamed up in some horticulturist's perverse lab. But they're pretty and cheap so you gotta love them!

Okay but the main reason for my post is that I finally planted all the bulbs I bought:

As I've said before, bulbs are great; if you plant them and if they don't come up, no big deal! No one knows you wasted your time and money on them... not like some fancy-pants, over-priced perennial that looks swell at the nursery but immediately withers and dies when installed in your garden. So I planned on obtaining some bulbs. I have a spot where I plant tulips every year and then yank them to plant annuals. (Most tulips being not-too-perennial but soooooo lovely!) While bob and I were in Vermont recently, switching out his remarkable sculptures, I requested that we visit the Bennington Home Depot to see if they had marked down bulbs. Yes they did! And good colors! So for 50% off, I got Pink Impression and a beautiful mix called "Pride" (purples and pinks and reds). Also a bag of deep blue hyacinths for the Blue Garden.

I didn't stop there, however. Enthused by my luck and lured by the sales from nurseries that filled up my email in-box, I ordered petite miniature daffodils (Jack Sprite and Tete-a-Tete) and aliums (Bulgaricum and Christophii) and more tulips! Just you wait 'til next spring! Our gardens are going to be jumping! (*1)

(*1) I was fortunate that I encountered several warm sunny days to stagger around our vast estate, pushing a wheel barrow full of assorted bulbs, looking for spots to tuck them all in. It wouldn't have been fun had it been as cold as it was this morning!

The Junque man Cometh

 

Or go-eth! Poor Bob! He lived for almost twelve years with this ridiculous hot tub outside of his studio door. Not only was it an eyesore but it is/was big, heavy and well... an eyesore. When we first looked at the house- lo! these many years ago, the hot tub was on the rotting back deck, off the living room. When we came to inspect the house for our closing walk-through, it was gone. Somehow, the previous owner had hauled this monstrosity down to most recent location, by Bob's studio door. 

To be honest, I never entertained the idea of taking pictures of the hot tub in situ because it wasn't exactly photogenic. I knew how badly Bob wanted to get rid of it, though. He entertained several options- none easy- because this thing was massive and made of all manner of nastiness, including fiberglass and spray insulation. He debated making a "heat grabber" for his studio but the size and shape were unworkable. Friends suggested simply dragging it off into the woods, where it probably would have resided for eternity.

(Don't ask: I was simply photographing "hose arabesques".) Bob decided his best course of action was to haul that sucker away to the dump. Bob spent several days deconstructing the monstrosity and revealing all sorts of weird insulation, pipes, wood frame complete with nails... just awful stuff. Our good friend Joe agreed to come over and assist Bob in the heroic undertaking of getting it up onto the truck and help get it to the dump. It proved to be no small task as the unwieldy shape of the tub resisted being loaded and kept sliding back off the truck, and there was no way to lift it up as it was too heavy. (I wisely missed observing all of this fun,leaving it to the men folk to figure the logistics out.) Bob and Joe finally resorted to sawing the fiberglass body in half and then loading it on. 

Off to the dump it (finally!) went. A loud cheer was heard through out the land as Bob was free of the burden of the accursed hot tub. Additionally, Bob discovered he had a whole new area of open space beside his back door. Victory was his!

Big 33

 

Hey look! The basil finally got zapped by a (rather late) frost! That mean that Bob ad I celebrated yet another trip around the sun together. Yes, 33 years of un-anniversary. In a nod to non-tradition, Bob makes an attractive (!?!!) arrangement of the deceased, now rotting basil.

I haven't much more to say than I can think of no one else I'd rather spend a year in COVID lock down with; we had fun! Now on to another 33... of course that's make me 98 and Bob 101 or something so I don't know if that's a good idea. 

So, yes, I look forward to this next year. Hopefully, we can crawl out of our quarantine isolation and once again show art in real spaces and maybe even risk taking a train into NYC to see some art. But let's just get through the upcoming winter first!

Politics as Usual

 

I hope it is easy enough to read ("Eat The Rich"). I photographed it quickly and the bottom is darker than the top, which made the letters harder to read. Obviously, the name of this piece is "A Modest Proposal". Possibly the rich are tough and stringy as they mostly seem to be pretty scrawny (*1), but this could solve some of the dilemmas facing our country at present. The President's (*2) proposed budget keeps shrinking as filibuster and renegade Democrats refuse to fucking raise taxes on the hideously wealthy and meanwhile "we the people" are still reeling from the pandemic and want free college and expanded health care, baby! So tax the rich and then eat them. I wouldn't miss Elon Musk or Jeff Bezos one bit...

My work is morphing from the last president's constant infuriating idiocy compelling me to immortalize his bizzarre rants(*3) to more measured ravings on my part about income equality and social justice. I should be busy for quite some time to come, as none of the societal ills we're plagued with are in danger of being solved any time soon. Call me a Socialist but I'd like to see some redistribution of wealth. (*4)

See what I mean? Plenty of raw material to go around! I know some philistines wondered where my work would go after "He Who's Name Shall Not Be Mentioned" (Thanks Stephen Colbert!) was expelled from the White House, but he was a symptom of some of these persistent dilemmas. Hell, COVID is still as major factor in our daily lives (whether many people would like to ignore this or not!), things are hardly "back to normal" and I'm still on unemployment. What kind of crazy job do I want to risk my life for? I'm content to make art and cause trouble. Revolution now, baby!

(*1) I think they're thin because they have private, at-home chefs that fed them exclusive omelettes comprised of egg whites and kale. And then their personal trainers boot-camp their sinewy muscles and force them to do a thousand squats. 

(*2) And for god's sake, how can Biden's current rating be lower than the Orange Buffoon's ever was?!??! I ask you?!?!? Things are a slow-go for Biden (again: filibuster, recalcitrant turn-coat Democrats in thrall to big money and obstructionist rethuglicans. I don't agree with everything Biden presents, but he's waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyy better than The Orange Menace- even on a bad day!!

(*3) Remember "Person, Woman, Man, Camera, TV"?!?!? Here's my piece "Cognitively There" for old times sake:

(*4) Of course this reminds me of the time that Bob and I were driving home from Home Depot (where we had gone in pursuit of N 95 face masks) when a man in a pick-up pulled next to us and- no doubt admiring our Bernie Sanders bumper sticker- screamed "Socialism Sucks" as he roared away. I assume he doesn't like, oh, I don't know, hospitals and schools and roads and libraries and fire departments and Social Security...

 

A Pleasant Diversion

 

I promise! This is a nice posting full of the colors of autumn; no blood-engorged ticks, or ailing animals. Just pleasing fall color... It all started when Bob bought the lovely chrysanthemum pictured above. Stupendous! It brightened our doorway and replaced the blown-by flowers of summer...

As I gazed on that delightful chrysanthemum, I realized that straight ahead was a maple tree, blazing the same orange color...

And all along the top of our fence was the exact same shade of orange! I was surrounded by the brilliance of fall! (*1)

Close up of those dangerously beautiful leaves! And lastly, as I walked back to the house, I spied the burnished orange of the tall marigolds in our large container:

It seems to be the color of this season, alright! And I for one welcome all the burning brilliance I can imagine as all too soon, we'll have the whiteness of frost and snow.

(*1) The discerning among you will correctly identify that last flaming plant atop the fence as (yes!) poison ivy! This is why I come down with it every couple of weeks; we're immersed by it. But you do have to admit that it's got glorious fall color!

A Strange Post (Aren't They All?!)

 

I admit to being not the worlds most organized individual. Paperwork and almost anything that smacks of bureaucracy sends me scrambling in the opposite direction. This is why I frequently find myself procrastinating and creating vast piles of paper and odd folders full of random (often not-completely read) medical forms, insurance brochures, Chinese restaurant menus and the like.You can only imagine the "fun" that I've had attempting to decode the vast quagmire that is Medicare...

So the illustrations presented here are bleak evidence. These pages of cryptic scrawlings are reside next to the "home phone". (*1) Bob and I are both guilty of haphazardly adding to whatever chaotic piece of paper is lying atop the pile. Messages from friends, potential toppings for pizza, passwords to various accounts, hastily scribbled notes attempting to understand the arcane instructions delivered by a  computer servicing representative, phone numbers of government offices... you get the idea. Boy, do they make for one big indecipherable tangle! 

Here's a particularly fine example, looking for all the world like a Cy Twombley shopping list. (*2) Sometimes, we are actually able to find the number or name that has etched it's way onto the latest top sheet. Occasionally, we're not so lucky. (*3) 

Right now, we have stack I modestly estimate to be thirteen or fourteen sheets thick. At a mysterious level that I have not been able to anticipate, one of us (typically Bob) decides to "go through it" and two piles emerge: a "his" and "hers". Bob identifies a few bits of data salient to him, and the rest gets floated towards me. I then (very carefully) re-shuffle the heap and place it in one of my folders. Pity my poor archivist!

(*1) Yes, we still have this arcane communication device. Soon it will be worthy of a place in a museum.

(*2) For those of you unfamiliar with the name Cy Twombley, he was a mid-20th-Century artist that, well, scribbled all over his canvases. Someone had to do it!

The above isn't even his scribbly-est!!

(*3) But generally, two or three weeks after the information was needed, the now out-dated and useless number or password reemerges as the stack of papers is shuffled.

Sicko Neko

 

My poor horse! Neko has been diagnosed with Lyme Disease- like every member of our household at one point or another. At least we know what has been plaguing her.

About a month ago now, out of the blue, Neko came up lame. I initially attributed it to our change of blacksmiths (*1) . Sometimes, a small difference in angle of foot or a tad too much taken one side of the hoof or the other results in foot soreness. But her soreness persisted. She was definitely off in her left hind when I tried riding her; then the "fun" (*2) began, attempting to pin point what exactly was up.

"My head! My stomach! My feet! My hips!", Neko seems to be saying. Oy! Anyway, several experts were invited over and weighed in. There was discussion of perhaps she had fallen in the field- Bob saw a major skid mark that could have caused a seriously wrenched hip or back. One of my riding instructors thought it might be her stifle (*3), my new barefoot trimmer thought it might be her hocks. We tried using hoof boots... she was still limping. In fact, she seemed to be limping all over. She was also looking glum, like that picture above. Not the usual animated, evil Neko who is full of (charming) attitude. It was suggested that I call a chiropractor.

But I had my intuitions. I was not entirely convinced that it was physical. If I called a horsey chiropractor (read "expensive") and had her manipulated, but it was systemic, I'd still be screwed- as well as poor Neko. I suspected Lyme and called the vet. I was right. Her numbers were seriously elevated, proof that she has Lyme.

So Neko is now three days into treatment and being a VERY good patient! She was a little hesitant when I delivered her first dose of apple-flavored doxycycline to her, smothered in grated carrots, grain, alfalfa pellets and molasses but I hand fed her and she seemed to think it must be safe if I was administering to her. Since that first batch, she's consumed all her food (hooray) (*4). Only 27 more days to go!!

(*1) Don't get me started on the perfidy of blacksmiths!! And rudeness! Good grief! We trust these individuals to care for horses, and do what's right by them. The last two have been doozies; yes, they came recommended, but one suggested I euthanize Maggie three years ago (and she's till going semi-strong, according to two veterinarians) and the other totally blew me off for over three weeks, resulting in over grown toes and ouchy feet!

(*2) Not fun! It's all a bit of a guessing game and they can't tell you what happened or why they hurt!

(*3) And I was assured you do NOT want it to be her stifle. The stifle is a mysterious joint sort of like our knee, on their hind legs, that gets messed up and hey presto! horse can become lame for life and career over. 

(*4) The alternative is to force feed it to her in a syringe, injecting this paste into her mouth twice a day for a full month. You can only imagine the "fun" (more fun!) trying to dose her thusly when they get smart to what's coming.

Kitchen Make Over!

 

Anyone who has visited us in the past few years will attest that something needed to be done. Yes, "we" (*1) replaced some cabinets and the sink but our walls and cabinets were getting heavily used and showing it. I have been threatening to repaint the kitchen for... oh, maybe a year or two now. And Bob has been complaining about the stupid drawer pulls for quite a while. (*2) 

Annoyingly, when you used said little round knobs, you couldn't help but wear the paint off underneath in a dirty circular pattern. Nothing cute about that!

                                      

So in what seemed a spontaneous mutual eruption of  "Hey! Let's paint the kitchen today!" was actually several years in the making. First, Bob drilled holes to fit the new handles. Simple, clean, modern-looking metal pulls that work easily (and will hopefully eliminate the weird wear pattern) that we had purchased a month or so ago for just such a day as this. Then we had to remove all the handles and Bob sanded down all the handle areas where something like three or four layers of paint had worn away. Then he washed the cabinets. I busied myself with cleaning the louvered door leading into the utility room. There was a prodigious amount of dust and aerial-borne dander adhered to each slat. Cleaning done, we moved onto painting.

Here are our new handles, patiently waiting being screwed back on, after the paint job is complete. I wish I had photographed the stupid, round knobs before Bob removed them! But there's always a scary place that you forgot about... how about the area above the refrigerator. Noooooooooooooooo!!!!

Yeech! Look at that grime! And the worst thing is I had to make Bob clean and paint that as even on the ladder, my arm wasn't long enough to get the back wall. Bob dropped something he was cleaning with down behind the refrigerator, but we won't mention that!

But look! All that hard work paid off as a day and a half later, we have clean, fresh, white cabinets with new modern-looking handles! That are easy to use! No more scraping the paint off every time you open a cupboard. Yay!

And even Robin the Good's food corner is nice and clean. This corner was particularly awful with baked-on dog slobber (sorry Robin!) and some odd semi-domesticated spiders and just plain old accumulated dirt. Now I have to make Robin a new place mat...

The window sill demanded special treatment in the form of some advanced spackling and sanding, which Bob heroically executed, and then he even took the Venetian blinds down and laundered them outside. Now they, too, look almost new. Well done!!

Hard to capture in these pictures but the kitchen is now a wonderful room that you want to spend time in. Or even eat in! I am glad we had visitors last night, and are expecting my family this weekend as someone has to witness the magnificence of our new kitchen! (*3)

(*1) "I" had nothing to do with the sink and cabinet replacement except clean up. Bob and our good friend Joe executed all the construction and installation. I'm giving credit where it's very much due!

(*2) Stupid drawer pulls in question were "cute" little white balls. They did look quirky but after 11 years of fingers slipping and trying to get a grip on them, they weren't so cute after all. 

(*3) But unfortunately, inevitably, all that new freshness only reflects how dirty the paint and walls are in all the other parts of the house...

Bedlam!

 

Here's a rare, intimate view of our bedroom. Looks perfectly nice and cozy, bed made... who would ever expect that this is the scene of of much bedding consternation.

Well, one issue was settled recently with the purchase and addition of a bed topper (100% organic latex with 100% cotton cover!) Bob had complained of aching hip and sore shoulder from sleeping on our rock-hard mattress. Solved! He's sleeping better these days. (*1)

But our latest dilemma is having aging sheets, all of our lower fitted sheets are disintegrating. Here's a shot of the pile of orphan sheets:

This is only part of the problem. There are a few more "singletons" in the laundry basket. I liked all of these when they were sets: a bottom fitted sheet, a flat top sheet and two lovely MATCHING pillow cases. Now, I struggle to make a sorta/kinda set out of one swirly blue pillow case with the top sheet of the striped set (missing a bottom and one pillow case) and then what? The blue bottom, fitted sheet (again) that now has a big rip where my feet go? (*2)

So my question is this: do I attempt to buy several bottom, fitted sheets to supplement my top sheet "collection"? Or do I spring for entire new sets of sheets? Several considerations avail themselves. One is that to purchase fitted sheets costs almost as much as getting a new complete set of sheets. The second is that I'll have to order on line as finding a fitted sheet by itself is impossible in local stores. And don't get me even going on how hard it is to find 100% cotton sheets in attractive colors or patterns! There sure are some plug-ugly bed sets out there! And they try to sneak polyester into the sets by calling them "comfort cotton" or "ez care"... all code words for sleazy sleep sets! 

I did break down and buy a couple of pillow cases last week. They're a kind of watery pale blue; not offensive but none too exciting, either. But this leaves me perplexed: why can I buy a package of two pillow cases, but not get a simple fitted sheet by itself? Who makes these executive decisions?!?! (*3)

But we do have a lovely throw pillow with a picture of a Robin on it! (Thanks to Bob's mother). Funny, it's the one spot in the house Robin isn't allowed (on the bed) so we have an avatar.

(*1) The jury is out on my side of the mattress. My lower back has been cranky and I don't know if it's coincidence or whether the mattress topper is too soft for me!

(*2) Bob said that when he was growing up, all the family sheets were flat; there was no such thing as a fitted sheet. I agree: fitted sheets came along many years after our childhoods. However, I have observed that "they" now manufacture flat sheets smaller so that you can't use them as bottom sheets. They never tuck in all around. A hideous plot!

(*3) I know, in light of all the truly awful problems in the world at present (COVID, Climate Change, Texas, the Taliban, Fox News etc etc) my having issues in the bedding department are not major issues. But I'm having enough trouble sleeping with out tossing and turning on ripped, mis
matched sheets!

Fruits and... More Fruits!

 

And this is only part of our peach harvest! Bob informed me today that he's picked 150 (!!!!!!) peaches from our tree. Thank you, my friend Laurie for having given us this tree when we moved in, knowing how much I love peaches. I know we're going to be busy eating peach pie and freezing a slew of them for enjoying mid winter.

And did someone say blueberries? We have so many blueberries... we've had blueberry pancakes, blueberry pie, blueberry upside down cake, blueberry muffins, not to mention simply cramming blueberries into our mouths, straight of the bush and...

even blueberry crisp. That was quite good! The freezer is packed with frozen blueberries. We certainly can't complain about a meager crop. These bushes are amazing; several "Jersey" bushes and three stellar "Elliots".

And fruits of another kind. Lots of tomatoes finally; they were a bit slow to ripen but are now going great guns. I'm looking forward to yet another Bacon, Lettuce and Tomato sandwich. My favorite! And look at those eggplants; they really like the hot weather. At least we won't go hungry. I am actually thinking the opposite is true: I think I'm putting on weight, trying to keep up with everything our garden is producing. Too bad the summer seems to be winding down!