My World of Wonders: April 15, 2026

What have I been up to in the kitchen? I asked Sweet Bear what he wanted for dinner, and he shrugged his shoulders and said, "take out Chinese?" That was all I needed to hear. I had ramen noodles, chicken, carrots, broccoli, cabbage, mushrooms, and a couple of Asian sauces, I made chicken veggie stir-fry over noodles. A few minutes of careful knife work, and a few minutes of cooking. Cheddar and Onion spread, my favorite Tesco Express sandwich when I am in the UK is Cheddar and Onion, sadly no one here makes this, so I make my own. It is simply grated onion, cheddar, mayo and maybe a little salt. Roast Pork Tenderloin, cheddar mashed potatoes, and mix veggies.  Sloppy Joe's and potato salad. 

Where have I been this week? The pool, the gym, the gallery to update a wall tag, the community center for an Arts group meeting. Into DC to have dinner with an old friend of Sweet Bear's.  The farmers market. King Street in Old town Alexandria for a Sunday morning walk. The pharmacy and a walk along the river. 

What have I been reading? Big Bad Wool, a novel about very wise sheep. I have four books loaded on my Kindle for travel reading. Amazon informed me this week, my Kindle is so old, that they are discontinuing technical support for it this spring. I have used this one for over ten years. A few years ago, I was worried that it was failing and I bought a replacement, but decided to keep using the old one as long as it worked. It still works, but sometime later this spring I won't be able to download new books to it. And I am okay with that. I have far and away gotten my money's worth out of it.  When I am home, I read mostly print books, I use the Kindle when I travel, I can carry a months worth of books in less space and weight than one book. I find the screen on my phone too small to read much on. My IPad is an antique - but it does what I need. I expect that Apple will drop it from support in the next year or so. 

Who have a talked to this week? My Sweet Bear, Erica, Eric, Warren, Paul, Marcel, Susan. 

What is special about this post? For a couple of months, I have been writing posts, scheduling them ahead of time, to assure coverage while we are away on a Grand Adventure, and to allow myself a digital detox. While I may do a little editing and updating over the next 5 weeks, this is the last post that I need to write between now in May 21. 

Travel Tuesday: Spring Time At Mount Vernon

 

Monday Mood: Random Beauty and Sadness

A week ago I went into DC to wander the National Gallery of Art for a couple of hours. It was a great day for a walk, bright, clear, cool but not cold. A beautiful day. At each end of the main floor at the National Gallery there are salons, areas a couple of steps down, with a high ceiling, plants and at various times in history fountains. A photographer and a couple of assistants were directing this young lady as I entered the space.  I captured half a dozen or so images. Looking at them, this is far and away my favorite. Her looking down, just works. 

The encounter was entirely random, unplanned, and so so beauty filled. 

Slow down and observe, 

Look up and look around, 

Sometimes the greatest beauty appears randomly. 

Sadness: A dear neighbor died Friday morning.  I met Larry a year or so ago, he was the partner of the sweet bear that leads the Saturday morning water aerobics classes.  He was a local native, born and raised in Maryland, he had served in the military (Navy as a recall) then had a long career as an accountant for the department of defense. He has adult children in the area and was looking forward to the birth of a grandchild later this spring.  He was kind of quiet, with a strong sense of humor. He and Giuseppe were so happy together.  They had been regulars at our monthly LGBT community gatherings, hosting at their condo a coupe of times. (Movie night featuring "The Bird Cage" one evening.) I knew he had been unwell, bouncing from test to test, and specialist to specialist over the last few months.  The last I had heard he was in the hospital, trying to make arrangements to come home. His death was not a surprise, when I saw the email, I had that sinking feeling. And yet it brings great sadness.  It takes a while to move from the sadness of loss, to fondness at having known him.  

Hold your friends close, 

Give them a big hug while you can, 

Life is short, embrace and enjoy everyday you can. 

 

Sunday Five: Flowers and Bees

1: What is the first flower to bloom in spring where you live? 

2: Is there a flower that reminds you of funerals?

3: What is your favorite flower? 

4: When was the last time you had fresh flowers in your home? 

5:  What is blooming where you are today? 

My Answers: 

1: What is the first flower to bloom in spring where you live?  Crocuses, I missed bulb flowers when I lived in Florida, there is not enough of a cold season for them to bloom a second year. 

2: Is there a flower that reminds you of funerals? Red Roses, what my grandmother ordered for my grandfather's funeral. 

3: What is your favorite flower? Dandelion, my father kept bees, and the Dandelion bloom was the first honey flow of spring for the bees. 

4: When was the last time you had fresh flowers in your home? Today, we almost always do. 

5:  What is blooming where you are today? Trees, bulb flowers, 

Please share your answers in the comments. 

The Saturday Morning Post: Magic Moments in Creating

 I remember vividly the first time I got into the zone, the creative flow, the magic moment when the creative process just simply works.  

As a teenager I spent hundreds of hours printing thousands of black and white photographs - the old fashioned way on light sensitive silver gelatin papers. Photographic printing is an art form. From selecting the negative, cleaning it, putting it in the enlarger (a special projector device), setting up the chemistry, selecting the paper, focusing, setting aperture and exposure time. Variations in all of these and changes in temperature or humidity, all impact the work. Sometimes no matter what I did, nothing turned out well. Most of the time, the work was acceptable, but a struggle. Then there was the first time everything worked, every print was good, and if I made adjustments and made a second print it was even better.  I pulled out negatives that I had struggled with in the past and nailed a perfect print on the first try. It was a magic feeling, I didn't want it to end. I worked late into the evening, until my father came knocking on the door telling me it was past time I washed things up and went to bed. 

Maybe half a dozen times, in as many years, I hit that zone, the flow, the magic moment in printing photographs. 

I have hit the same zone a handful to times when painting with acrylics, when everything just flowed. A couple of my best paintings were done in a single session. 

It also happens sometimes when I am writing. I write half a dozen short articles a year for the American Bar Association Senior Lawyers Division Voice of Experience Journal. Some of them are written in a flurry, a single setting when the thoughts and words seem to just magically flow. 

Those are wonderful moments in creativity. I have not found a formula for creating the conditions that cause them to happen, the moments just happen. But they only happen when I am creating, often sitting down to just grind it out. Not expecting anything special, and then the magic happens. And it feels absolutely wonderful. 

Seek your magic moments. 

Funky Friday: Wearing Our Feelings

 So how do I really feel about HeWhoShallNotBeNamed. 

The Thursday Ramble: Small Town Craftsmen I Once Knew

My grandfather's grew up farming with horses and mules. My mother's father farmed that way into the 1940's, and only reluctantly started using mechanical tractors. Horses as transportation disappeared from rural America in the 1920's into the 1930's. 100 years ago. 

When I was growing up in Michigan in the 1960's there were still remnants of horse drawn transportation around the area. Most barns or garages had remnants of collars and harnesses. The town livery stable, where horses visiting town would have been boarded and cared for was still there, a large barn painted a light green. Horses were bought and sold there probably into World War II. By my time the horses were but a memory, but the building stood for another few decades.

The part of the business that remained was the blacksmith shop. While the primary business was no longer shoeing horses, if you trailered them into town the craftsmen who worked where glad to do so, it was primarily as a place to have iron tools made or repaired. Ancient plows that cracked, would be repaired by experienced and expert hands. The coal fired forge was kept hot and working for decades beyond the horse days. They could make just about anything out of metal, replacements for one of a kind barn door hinges, or rollers for sliding barn doors were something they made every week. I remember going there a few times with my father or grandfather, with something from around the farm that needed repair. A garden tool, a mower blade that had hit a rock and was in need to straightening and sharpening. If you needed it now, they would stop what they were doing and attend to it, if not it would be ready sometime later tomorrow, and the cost would be next to nothing.  Even then you wondered how they made a living. And it is possible that, they didn't, that they did it because it was what they did. 

Around the corner from there, was Mr. Baldwin's leather repair shop. He was a master saddler, for the first half of his adult life he made and repaired harness and saddles. For the second half of his life, well on into his 8th decade, he repaired shoes. He stocked and sold work boots, but repairing shoes was the day to day way he kept himself busy. As an elementary school student I would walk to his shop during lunch, and he would do a minor repair and charge less than a dollar.  Even then I would say, are you sure that is all?  He was sure. It wasn't about making money, it was about being of service and practicing the craft that he learned as a teenager. He worked until the day his shop fell down. A delivery driver backed into the side of it, and literally the building collapsed around him. Luckily no one was hurt, but the building was shattered. His family convinced him to retire. A sad end to a long chapter in the life of a small town. He was the grandfather of one my high school friends.