Monday, March 26, 2012

Eleanor Lucas shared an Instagram photo with you

Hi there,

Eleanor Lucas just shared an Instagram photo with you:

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"Biggest strawberries ever. "
(taken at Pop's)

The Instagram Team

Friday, March 23, 2012

With Gertrude as my witness....

.... I shall never buy celery again.

Well, I probably will, but only because what's in my garden won't be ready for harvesting.

My cousin's wife posted a little tidbitty thing on Pinterest about what to do with that part of the celery that very conveniently holds the stalks together:  stick it in the dirt, and then stand back.

Henry, the chief gardener around here, said, NAH -- it'll never work.

So I handed him that bit of the celery and encouraged him as gently as I could to HUMOR ME.

Whaddya know?   See that green stuff there on the right?  That was from the doohicky celery thing after less than a week.  The white thing on the left is another celery doohicky thing that he put stuck in the dirt just a day or so ago - and it's already sprouting.

For sure and certain, we may never achieve usable stalks like what you get in the produce section, but I'm going to keep you posted.

Saturday, March 17, 2012

Unintentional Companions

Perhaps the truth depends on a walk.....
   ~Wallace Stevens

I lost my heart for many things when Mama died in October, chief among them my joy in  walking. I suppose a counselor would have a field day with that: the last time I heard her voice was when I called her to tell her that I had just finished my second half-marathon. 

Reasons turned into excuses, as they often do though, and the hard work I had begun in 2003 to get my health and my girth under control began to slip away.  I made a couple false re-starts with manufactured enthusiasm, and even now I can't say I've got my groove back.

But I am getting back to the park now at least a few times a week. I'm walking these days with no purpose (save getting back in some of my summer clothes) -- no thought of how fast or how far, just walking until I decide I don't want to walk any longer, listening to whatever music finds its way from my iPhone to my ears.

The picture up there was taken from the parking lot of Vaughn Road Park, just before a good, long walk this past Wednesday afternoon. That church is where I had cast my vote the day before, the one whose outcome left me incredulous, and more than a bit dismayed. (My disclaimer: I am a moderate conservative, which basically means I have nowhere to go most of the time, politically speaking.)

But this isn't a post about politics. This is a post about community.

The park was full of folks that day, and I enjoyed watching families out enjoying a beautiful late afternoon, and passing elderly couples strolling on the path (the only people I CAN outpace anymore!).  

As I was nearing the end of an hour, my legs were growing tired, and as I approached the final rise on the track I began to match pace and walk side-by-side with a young African-American man, dread-locked,wearing those godawful low slung pants, having a conversation into seeming air via a Bluetooth device).  I could not get past him - he was at a stroll, but his stride was long and these short legs just didn't have the gas left in them to speed up.  

It's odd how uncomfortable I feel walking side-by-side like this with someone I don't know, but I think it's probably a universal feeling. I have no doubt that as strange as I felt, he must have felt the same, and yet neither of us could or would do anything to escape the situation. And so we walked, side by side.  He finished his conversation, and we continued to walk -- together -- and after several minutes he began to break off to step into the park itself and he said, "I enjoyed the walk. You take care, and be blessed."

There are lots of things that do and will forever separate that young man and me, but for that parcel of time we were unintentional companions,  walking together.

It's what we need to remember when we are divided by political issues, and race, and religion, and education, and socioeconomic class: we only have here. We only have now. Whether we like it or not, we are walking this time together. 

Enjoy the walk. Take care. Be blessed.