Monday, July 14, 2025

Monday Mood: Remembering my Grandmother


My father's mother was born in England and crossed the Atlantic twice in the early years of the last century.  Her second crossing was months after the Titanic disaster.  That experienced stayed with her. The very real fear, and being grateful that she and her family where not on the Titanic.  Thankfulness and gratefulness stuck with her.  

Her family left England just a few years before World War I. She heard about the horrors of war from a safe distance. Her father was working on water and sanitation projects, work that was considered essential and hence not at risk of being drafted.  She was grateful for her nuclear family being spared the horrors of that War.  

She married by grandfather, almost 100 years ago, my father was born little more than a year later, and then the stock market crashed. My grandfather worked for Ford, and at times was down to a couple of days a week, but was never unemployed. They raised a huge garden, my grandfather kept bees. They always had food on the table. They were renting a home from a bank. A good honey crop yielded a couple of hundred dollars for a downpayment, and they bought the house during the depth of the depression, for mortgage payments that were less than they were paying in rent. They took in family members who lost homes in foreclosure. She was forever grateful that they kept a roof over their heads and food on the table and were able to help the extended family.  

During World War II, family from England came to live with them, escaping the bombing.  Sally was school age, Edith (little Aunt Edith - she was about 5 feet tall and never over 100 pounds) was one of her father's sisters, Bob was an uncle, who died of alcoholism before I was born. All three of them stayed. Everyone worked during the war. My grandmother enjoyed her years in an office at a machine shop, and graciously left when the man she had replaced returned from the war. My father was a teenager, he was drafted near the end of the war, and never left the country. If he had been two years older, he would have been cannon fodder, and she knew that. She was proud to be a Blue Star mother, and forever grateful that the were not a Gold Star family.  She was grateful that they contributed their share to the war effort, and that our family was spared the worst of the war.  

All of this reminds me to be grateful, to be thankful for the good fortune of my life. 

The photos above were taken on this spring's cruise, as the ship passed over the wreck of the Titanic. The personal connection - how the disaster shaped my grandmother was on my mind that day. I am glad we visited there. My grandmother considered the site a gravesite, that should be left undisturbed. When the wreck was discovered, she and I talked about this, I think she shared thoughts and feelings she had kept bottled up for decades.  She was right in so many ways.  She was and remains a major influence in my life. 

This Monday finds me thankful and grateful. 

 

Sunday, July 13, 2025

The Sunday Five: How Does Your Garden Grow


1: What is your favorite vegetable or fruit, fresh from the garden?

2: Have you ever eaten veggies while in the garden they were grown in? 

3: Describe your current growing situation? 

4: If you push a shovel in the ground where you live, what will you turn up? 

5: Is a tomato a fruit or a vegetable? 

My Answers: 

1: What is your favorite vegetable or fruit, fresh from the garden? Tomatoes, nicely ripe. 

2: Have you ever eaten veggies while in the garden they were grown? When I was growing up, green beans have a delightful texture, tomatoes taste devine, brush the dirt off on tiny carrots. 

3: Describe your current growing situation? Nada, I am not allowed to keep plants, after the cactus died from neglect. 

4: If you push a shovel in the ground where you live, what will you turn up? Construction debri and history I imagine. 

5: Is a tomato a fruit or a vegetable?  Ignoring the scientific definitions, a tomato is a vegetable. 

Please share your answers in the comments. 



Saturday, July 12, 2025

The Saturday Morning post: 50 States in 52 weeks: Nevada


 When people think of Nevada, they often think of Las Vegas, and Vegas was my first exposure to the Silver State.  A conference I was speaking at had been scheduled for San Francisco, then the hotel workers at the Hilton went on strike, and the conference was moved at the last minute to the old Las Vegas Hilton (now long gone.) 

I rather enjoyed it. Many of the conference attendees were horrified at being in sin city.  I stayed over a couple of days after the conference, and flew on from there to participate in a symposium on post practice careers for lawyers at Stanford Law School.  

The other couple of times I have been to Nevada, I flew into Reno. One trip I spoke at a conference in Reno, the other was a board meeting at Lake Tahoe.  Twice I have driven from Reno to Lake Tahoe. The second time we arrived at Lake Tahoe the day after the first snowfall of the season. A magical place. 





Friday, July 11, 2025

Foodie Friday: What I learned in Italy

Italy in February of 2000, was the first trip to Europe that Sweet Bear and I did together. A week in Rome, and a week in Florence. I hadn't been to Europe in almost a decade, he had been a couple of times for a conferences and research. 

Traveling with Sweet Bear I learned so much, and there is so much to learn in Italy. 

I remember riding the train into Rome from the airport at Fiumicino that first morning, seeing small gardens squeezed into every available space, tomatoes growing in containers on sunny balconies. Italian cooking thrives on fresh, local and seasonal. The closer to the source the better. Thinking back I knew this from sitting in the dirt in my grandmother's garden eating green beans fresh from the plant, they have a furry texture that goes away within minutes of being picked. After time and distance and they are never the same.  A tomato still warm from the sunshine that ripened it, has an intensity of flavor that it will not have once it has left the sun.  Italians would sooner not eat something, than to eat something that is out of season and shipped in from far away. And far away, is defined very narrowly. Kind of like the Appalachian "you are not from around here are you?" 

Italians will never rush you in a restaurant, bar or cafe. There is no rush to turn the table over. At times, especially for an American, the service can become frustratingly slow. The Italians would urge you to slow down, relax, there is seldom a reason to rush away. I remember my father at Red Lobster, pulling out his credit card as soon as the main course was served, asking for the bill, so he could leave as soon as he was finished, to rush home and - and spend the afternoon playing solitaire on the computer in his office. Sit, linger, observe, talk, read, savor the time. 

In Florence I learned about restaurant service. Being a waiter is a dignified and reasonably paid profession in Italy, not something you do to get by, something you can do for a lifetime. The waiters knew the menu, and what was best that day (fresh, local, and in season.) The service added a dignity to the experience. I think back to a restaurant named  Antico Forno, the Ancient Oven, we went twice, the food was amazing and this foreigner with very basic Italian was made to feel so welcome by the staff. 

We went into the Central Market in Florence, it was a short walk from the hotel we were staying in overlooking the Medici Chapel. Three memories stand out there. 

A poultry vendor, I was admiring the chicken and asked if I could take a photograph. He encouraged me to do so.  I remarked about the heads still being on the birds, and he said that is so you can look them in the eye and tell how fresh they are. He went on to explain that he had looked over those birds from the day they hatched, through their life, and on to this morning. His repeat customers would look at the eyes and tell him what time that morning the chickens had been dispatched.   

I was looking for a bottle of Limoncello.  One vendor had a nice selection, as I was trying to decipher the differences in them and the lady who owned the stall came over to help.  She was about 5 feet tall, wearing a mink coat that was about 4 1/2 feet tall, she had a voice cultivated by smoking since she was about 12, at least 60 years before.  She summoned a tray of shot glasses and we started sampling Limoncellos, one after another in mid morning.  After half a dozen shots I made a choice, and then we sampled a couple of olive oils, and I bought the best bottle of olive oil I have ever tasted. She explained that she knew, or was related to all of the producers, that she selected what she would sell, only the best. I will always remember her. 

The last one was a refrigerated case, filled with gelatinous fibrous tentacles, I was thinking it was some kind of exotic seafood. Reading the sign, and talking with the vendor, it was bovine nerves.  I have no idea what you do with them, but enough people in Florence did for there to be a vendor who specialized in them. 

I could go on, but I would sooner go back and learn even more.   

 


 

Thursday, July 10, 2025

Thursday Ramble: Sheep


About 20 year ago we spent a week in Yorkshire, we rented a house, Duncan and Stephen rented a car, and we explored and discovered how delightful sheep are. 

The room we stayed in was on the back side of the house, with a Velux Roof Window, overlooking a steep hillside that was home to a flock of sheep.  We would awake in the morning to their gentle bleating. What a beautiful scene to look out and see the green hillside dotted with those gentle fluffy creatures. 

We went to the Wensleydale creamery one day. I really like cheese, and had no idea what Wallace and Gromit was all about. To get from the parking area to the creamery, we crossed a field of sheep. Sheep that were accustomed to hundreds of visitors crossing their meadow every day. Gentle, friendly, fluffy sheep.  It made us wonder if we could keep one as a housepet (not really.) 

Stephen's parents lived in the area.  We stopped by to meet them, and Peggy mother insisted that we take lamb stew back to the house with us for dinner.  I had always turned my nose up at lamb, I was very unsure, but didn't want to insult anyone. Oh my, were we in for a treat.  It was so good. Savory, mild, full of veggies in a thick rich gravy. We had dinner with Peggy and Ralph a few evenings later and I had her describe to me how to make it.  A very simple, low and slow braise.  

The photos above, I was out at Mt Vernon a few weeks ago and they were finishing up the spring shearing. They shear by hand, the way it was done in George Washington's day. This particular lady was not real happy with being on her side, making the shearer's job especially difficult.  Great care was taken to keep the sheep from getting stressed. 

A stressed sheep, is a likely to be a dead sheep.  Many have written that a sheep is an animal that spends its life looking for a hideous an unexpected way to die. When my mother was a child, her father worked on a farm that had sheep, decades later she said, "if you look at sheep cross eyed, they keelover and die." 

If I win the lottery, I will buy a farm, hire a farmer, and raise a flock of black sheep. The farm will be called "Black Sheep Farm."    
 

Wednesday, July 09, 2025

My World of Wonders, aka, the Wednesday Ws July 9, 2025 edition


Where have I been this week? Close to home, the farmers market, Aldi, Trader Joe's, the liquor store, the pool, the treadmill in the gym, out to lunch and the Fresh Market with the sweet bear. 

What did I learn this week? A gin and tonic, is a drink for people who don't like gin. What a terrible waste of good gin. 

Who have I talked with? Linda, Pratibha, Jon, Ana, Susan, Raphael, Russel, Ruth, the water aerobics gang, John, it was a social week. 

What am I reading? Revenge of the Tipping Point by Malcolm Gladwell, when it is finished I need to head to the library. 

What have I been up to in the kitchen? Homemade baked beans, potato salad, a hearty soup made with leftovers, guacamole, cheese spread, 

What artsy thing have I done? I framed and hung three more prints. 

What have I written this week (besides blogs)? I finished an article on interviewing for the ABA Voice of Experience, and finished edits on a PowerPoint for a webinar I am co-presenting later this month. 

 


Tuesday, July 08, 2025

Travel Tuesday: Sir John Soane Museum, London

Sir John Soane was a British architect in late 1700's early 1800', and a boundless collector. His home is preserved as a museum as much like it could be preserved from the time of his death in 1837. I think my space is a little cluttered, this mueseum shows what an amature I am at packing things in, there are over 50,000 cataloged items in this house. It is near Covent Gardens, it is free, and well worth spending an hour or two in.  










Duncan and other artifacts.