It's a punctuation mark combining a question mark and an exclamation point. An advertising executive invented it in 1962 to add a little punch to rhetorical questions.
An example: People who talk with food in their mouth drive me nuts. “Would it kill you to stop chewing your food with your mouth open‽” Interro-BANG!
For me, finding joy in life means paying attention to the small, everyday moments instead of waiting for big achievements to make me happy. Sometimes joy appears in the most unexpected places, like this vintage red municipal call box, covered in layers of stickers, posters, and street art on a busy Manhattan corner. As people hurry past, absorbed in their daily lives, this piece of New York quietly stands there, and reminds me that joy is often hiding in plain sight, waiting to be noticed.
And that's one of the reasons I love to travel...so many joyful moments, big and small, are waiting to be found.
Paschal Baylón was born on May 16, 1540 (Pentecost), in Torrehermosa, Spain. Because he was born on Pentecost, he was given the name Paschal. As a young child, he worked as a shepherd and taught himself to read with the help of some of the townspeople.
Around 1564, Paschal joined the Reformed Franciscan Order. He was deeply devoted to the poor. Although a bowl of broth was the customary offering given to those who came to the monastery seeking food, Paschal believed the poor deserved more than leftovers. He would prepare a pot of cabbage, adding bread and meat, to share a more substantial meal with those in need.
Paschal was deeply devoted to the Holy Eucharist. He was assigned to work in the monastery kitchen, where he became known for preparing wonderful meals from the simple ingredients available to him. As he cooked, his fellow friars would often see him praying or meditating. They believed that angels assisted him in his daily work.
Because of his love for cooking and his humble service to others, Saint Paschal is honored as the patron saint of cooks and kitchens.
San Pasqual died on May 17, 1592. His feast day is celebrated each year on May 17.
I try to follow San Pasqual’s philosophy of cooking: taking simple ingredients and transforming them into meals that are both delicious and nourishing. For me, cooking is also a way of showing love and caring for others. I enjoy sharing food with family and neighbors, making a comforting pot of chicken soup when someone is sick, and preparing food for special occasions. One of my latest projects is baking 10 dozen cookies to share at the cookie table for my nephew’s upcoming wedding.
In these simple acts of cooking and sharing, I hope to carry on San Pasqual’s spirit of generosity and service. As he is remembered for saying:
“I joyfully celebrate the food I am given. May it deeply nourish everyone that I feed.” ~San Pasqual
Back in August, when heavy rain fell for several days, the Great Miami watershed received 10 to 15 inches of rain over a 30-day period. Four of the dry dams in the area collectively stored 5.8 billion gallons of water—the largest volume recorded during a high-water event this year. Because of the continued rainfall and the resulting volume of water, the 2026 season was extended through September 20 due to prolonged maintenance over the summer.
On September 20, Todd and I headed down to the river for one last look at the fountains for the season. We arrived at 4:45 and waited for the 4:55 whoosh as the fountains streamed into the river.
Then 4:46 came and went. Then 4:47, 4:48, and 4:49.
At 5:00, there were still no fountains.
With all the rain we've had since August, I'm thinking Five Rivers MetroParks decided it was time to shut them down for the season. C'est la vie...
Until next Memorial Day.
We spent last weekend in Cincinnati. Todd’s former boss and good friend got married, so the weekend was filled with celebration, laughter, and time with good friends. At this stage of life, we are beginning to say our last goodbyes to friends and family, which makes a new beginning like marriage feel especially meaningful. Celebrating the start of a new life together was such a joyful occasion.
Before the wedding, we visited the Cincinnati Art Museum to see Yayoi Kusama’s All the Eternal Love I Have for the Pumpkins. The timing felt poignant because Kusama recently died on August 14, 2026, at the age of 97.
Pumpkins were a deeply personal and important symbol throughout Kusama’s life. She grew up in a troubled family life with a strict, abusive mother and found a sense of warmth and comfort in pumpkins. Beginning around the age of ten, she experienced frightening hallucinations in which patterns and dots seemed to engulf her. Against that darkness, pumpkins became an emotional anchor. Kusama often described pumpkins as speaking to her about the “joy of living” - a source of comfort and, in her words and art, a triumph over the darkness she experienced.
The Cincinnati installation places dozens of vibrant yellow pumpkins, covered in black polka dots, inside an infinity mirror room. Floor-to-ceiling mirrors transform the small chamber into an endless field of glowing pumpkins. The effect is whimsical but profound. Because of the intimate size of the room, only two visitors are allowed inside at a time for 90 seconds.
90 seconds doesn't sound like much, but that's part of what made the experience memorable. Standing among those infinite pumpkins, knowing that the moment would end almost as soon as it began, was a fitting metaphor for life. We step into moments of beauty, love, friendship, and celebration, knowing that none of them can last forever.
Her pumpkins remain bright, playful, and infinite, offering their simple message of the joy of living.
It's a reminder to hold these seasons of life: celebrate the beginnings, cherish the people who are still beside us, and step into the beautiful moments we are given, even when we know they will last only 90 seconds.
Last night around 8:30 p.m., a doozy of a storm came through the area and it was very scary. I almost went to the tornado "safe spot" to ride it out. Luckily it was a fast moving storm but a frightening 30 minutes. At the time of writing this (September 21, 6:30 p.m.), we have been without power for 21 hours.
We drove around a little today to see the storm damage. Lots of big limbs down and uprooted trees. This is one time I'm glad we don't have large trees in our yard.
My son does have large trees...
To be continued...
Released in November 1978, this song became a lasting global anthem of pure joy, nostalgia, and celebration.
Do you remember the 21st night of September?
Love was changing the minds of pretenders
While chasing the clouds away
Our hearts were ringing
In the key that our souls were singing
As we danced in the night
Remember how the stars stole the night away
Hey hey hey
Ba de ya, say do you remember?
Ba de ya, dancing in September...
Get up and dance...or at least boogie a little in your chair!
I wandered around the store, and when I reached the back, there it was, a HUGE display of Blue Willow dishes.
Boy, oh boy, did that bring back memories.
My grandma had a set of Blue Willow dishes, and when she died my mom brought them home with her. Mom loved pretty china and collected quite a few sets over the years, most of them purchased at estate sales. When Mom left this earth, she had nine complete sets of fine china. One of those sets was the Blue Willow that had belonged to her mother.
I was the one who had the job of finding new homes for all those beautiful sets of china. My sister took one set, my two sisters-in-law each chose a set, and my two daughters each said they would like one as well. (By the way, those dishes are still in my storage room). No one wanted the Blue Willow. I advertised the dishes, someone inquired about them, and I took them up on their offer. It was sad to let the set go, but I found comfort in knowing that someone would appreciate and use them, and in some small way Mom’s love of beautiful dishes would live on.
Standing there in Fishs Eddy and looking at that huge display of Blue Willow, I realized how much more than dishes they had been. They were pieces of my family’s story - my grandma’s, my mom’s, and mine, and have become part of someone else's story.
I stood there for a bit, smiled at the Blue Willow china display and walked away with a reminder that sometimes the things we inherit aren’t meant to stay with us forever. Sometimes their purpose is simply to connect us to the people we love and bring back precious memories.
Happy Birthday, sweet child of mine! (This was our song for the mother/son dance at his wedding). He always makes me laugh....even when he was in trouble he could make me laugh and charm his way out of being grounded for life. He always gives me a big hug...even when it wasn't cool to hug your mom he would hug me in front of his friends...and he still does. I've watched you grow from a little rascal to a remarkable young man and now to the best husband and dad. I love this kid. Wishing my fun and forever boisterous boy a happy, happy birthday!
A true taste of summer is now a memory. Sweet corn season has officially come to an end - the last ears were sold on Sunday.
People have been stopping by the stand, asking (and hoping) to find a bin full of corn, but nope. Those days are behind us for another year.
Sweet corn is such a special seasonal treasure. My favorite way to enjoy it? Right on the cob with butter and salt. Simple and perfect.
Yesterday was my birthday, so I guess, according to this chart, I’m showing my age… but I’m not going to share 😊
Here’s a clue: I’m a Baby Boomer—the only generation in human history to have experienced a fully analog childhood and a fully digital adulthood.
We grew up without the internet, smartphones, or social media, and then watched the world transform into one where those things became part of everyday life. No other generation will ever cross that particular bridge again.
I've posted a lot of photos of the bees and butterflies on the zinnias and sunflowers at the farm. They're so pretty. There are other insects, too...spiders!
This vertical line in the orb web is a "trashline" created by a trashline orb-weaver spider. These spiders build a vertical line of discarded prey remains, molt skins, and plant bits through the center of their web. The clustered, lumpy pieces along the string also frequently include the spider's own egg sacs. The line helps hide the spider from predators by breaking up its silhouette or making it look like a piece of drifting trash.
Well, hello! No itsy-bitsy spider here!
The other day, Alex, our resident bug-ologist, said, “Hey! Come over and look at this. Wanna see a wolf spider?”
“Ummmmm…sure. Why not?”
This guy was camping out in one of the tomato trays. Sure glad I wasn’t the one emptying that tray!
As creepy as they may look, wolf spiders are actually good to have around. They eat roaches, crickets, flies, ants, and plenty of other insects. Wolf spiders hunt on the ground rather than spinning webs and are wonderful OUTDOOR neighbors!
Welp… it’s already happening. It’s the second week of September, and here comes Christmas!
I needed some wrapping paper for a shower gift, and this is what greeted me at the Hallmark store: a mingling of Christmas and Halloween. Red and green mixing with orange, black, and gold. Quite the color combination. And FYI, Christmas is only 103 days away.
The Halloween/Christmas combo was the first thing that caught my eye. Then I headed to the wrapping paper section in search of something suitable for a bridal shower. Wrapping paper and ribbon used to cover a good portion of the walls, but that’s no longer the case. I wasn’t impressed with the wedding paper selections, so I chose a fun, colorful design instead.
The ribbon selection was even more scarce, but I managed to find a combination that would work. This was a bridal shower and ribbons are needed for the practice bouquet at the wedding rehearsal - and to keep up with the superstition of breaking ribbons while opening gifts to predict how many children will be in the couple’s future. (She broke three and one of them was my sabotaged ribbon 😁).
Twenty-five years ago, my friend Patricia Saxton created this digital illustration, NINE, in the immediate aftermath of the September 11 terrorist attacks.
I love how her minimalist depiction of the World Trade Center Twin Towers transforms them into the number 11 - a simple yet powerful visual connection to that day and all that it came to represent. At the base of the Towers, a blooming lotus flower offers a gentle, delicate contrast to the devastation: a symbol of peace, remembrance, resilience, and renewal.
Art has a unique way of helping us hold what words sometimes cannot. It gives shape to grief, creates space for reflection, and allows us to remember while also imagining hope. In moments of profound loss, creating and experiencing art can be a form of healing - a way to honor what was lost, process what we carry, and find beauty and meaning even in the aftermath of tragedy.
From darkness, something can still bloom.
