a bushel of gumption, an ounce of grace
Jewels and gems of winter, here are the core of les collines for the coldest months. The fruits are harvested locally—most within a few miles of where I live—excepting, sadly, the Meyer lemons and limes! Yup, wrong climate.
Extra quince, rhubarb, and Concord grape are frozen, while sage I can continue to harvest and good local cider is available year-round.
For more information on any of the fruit and its provenance read my prior posts…for detail on these winter flavors, read on!…
The near blizzard of 2015 was just a mild snowstorm as it turned out. …
About halfway through my 12 days of flu, nocturnal scratchings of small rodent co-residents reached a crescendo. Of course, right? …
Epiphany, January 6, did not hold much meaning for me growing up. …
Maybe the title for this one should be, January stock. Here’s the count….
When I heard the news Joe Cocker died, I thought, too soon. Already? He was just 70. …
The week before Christmas my three months of 7/7 were reaching their pinnacle in a paroxysm of effort. And I’d thought that week would be a wind-down….
Well that was a long lag time from the last post….maybe I’ll write about the intervening high-density 23 days next post. For the moment just glad not to be speaking French for a bit, eh oui….
Thanksgiving seems to have evolved to become yet another venue of competition rather than a moment to give thanks. I wonder if it is a cultural thing– we are not just overweight, we are obese, and have reality television shows to help us shed hundreds of pounds. We don’t do yoga as the yogis intended, we do it as hot, among other things, and we compete with our neighbors in frequency, poses and attire….
How to make space for stillness in a world that values ever faster movement?…