the friday feed: garbage disposal

For the last five months, due to a home renovation, I have been without my kitchen. Before the project started the construction crew set up a makeshift kitchen in the dining room using some of the old cabinets, the old stove, refrigerator, and a laundry sink. It worked fine, I cooked everything I wanted in a limited space, but over time found that I really missed my garbage disposal the most. It got old peeling carrots and scraping the residue from bowls, pots, and pans into the waste basket.  

July 31, 2024 is the red letter day that I moved food from the old refrigerator into the new fridge. Little bits of this and that filled the veggie bin so it was time to make the good ole "garbage salad." There was a single carrot plus other odds and ends. Such joy to peel that orange root veggie and push the peels into the garbage disposal! I really missed that garbage disposal and appreciate it even more.

7/31/2024...Bye, bye carrot peels!

wednesday's words and wonderings and wanderings

Love those dainty little bottles of shampoo, conditioner and hand lotion in hotel bathrooms? I do. I take them home, use them for guests or donate them to the local homeless shelter. Soon people won’t be able to take these tiny amenities home - states, localities and some hotel chains are scrapping them. Those little bottles of shampoo, conditioner and body wash in hotels - icons of travel - are disappearing, replaced by bulk dispensers mounted on shower walls. And some travelers are in a lather.

Hotels say bulk dispensers cost less and are better for the environment. Billions of half-full bottles get thrown away every year. Think of it as roughly 1,000 bottles for every hotel room, multiplied by more than 5 million hotel rooms in the U.S. That’s a lot of single use plastic right there. Environmentally this makes sense. In the long run it will save money for hotels. Even though this is a sensible measure to take, a fun little souvenir will soon go down the drain.

sunset on the great miami

"There is something magical about the way a sunset can make us feel at peace, grateful, and alive all at once."

~ Morgan Harper Nichols

 

“The water was glassy and calm, still candy-colored in the afterglow of sunset.”

~ Stephen King 

 

monday's mulling: the seed of life memorial

Five years ago on Sunday, August 4, 2019, a gunman opened fire in Dayton's Oregon District, injuring 27 people and killing nine. The horrors of that night still haunt many people who were there and who saw evil up-close. In a flash, a beloved entertainment district that many people view as the beating heart of downtown Dayton was turned into something resembling a war zone.

Five years later on Sunday, August 4, 2024, a memorial, The Seed of Life, honoring the nine victims of the shooting was unveiled. The public artwork created by a team of local artists pairs nine standing pieces and a ground mosaic in several colors. It memorializes the lives that were lost, the resilience of a community. It's a place to heal. It's just sad that it had to be built.

Remember the Seed

Sunlight shines on a mosaic of gnarled

and supple hands tilling the soil of sorrow

and solace, sowing the enduring seed of life.

Hands, steeped in generations of gully-

scarred Gem City grit, reach back and pull

from the rootstock of ancestral resilience

etched upon weathered gabled rooftops

and vintage Victorian trim, tracing back

to tales of treasured Oregon District traditions.

Out of the darkness a deluge of mourning rain

watered seeds of courage, wedged beneath cracks

of uneven concrete by pioneering feet

on the corner of Jackson Street - bloomed

into a beacon of unwavering bravery

in the face of carnage and catastrophe. Strangers

sharing proximity, staff serving, friends bar hopping

and first responders across the Miami Valley

choked on panicked grief, sobbed in disbelief,

comforted the ailing, throbbed as one human heart

beating in survivors’ solidarity. The ears of heaven

rang and nine apotheosized doves spread

their whistling wings on Fifth street. Halos

of hurt harness the stems of sorrow. We climb

toward the light of lasting peace. Candle-lit

eyes have grown weary, lamented with images

of sidewalk roses, stumbling over condolences,

cobblestone cries, wilting scarlet carnations,

and handmade signs end the vigil veneration

speeches - lawmakers “do something.” Remember 

the seed of a mother’s might, a father’s prayer, 

a son’s levity, a daughter’s loyalty, a brother’s grit, 

a sister’s spirit, an aunt’s affection, an uncle’s wit

and a friend’s laughter to mollify the resin of resistance.

Disperse seedlings, sow harmonious, grounded healing.

We are all on a pilgrimage to be loved in between

the coming and going home - there is space to grow.

~ Sierra Leone, poet, Dayton, OH (2024)

lantana

Once again the gardening catalogs took over my heart rather than my head and six of these pretty lantana sare now gracing my garden. They attract butterflies and other pollinators but come to find out, lantana is a tropical plant. Oops. Ohio is not a tropical place.

After some further reading, depending on the region, lantanas can be annuals or perennials. I had hoped for perennials because I would love to see them come up year after year but in the colder regions lantanas are considered annuals. These six plants are not lost...yet. First, it's still summer so there's a few more outside months for them to brighten the garden. Probably toward the end of October, I will dig them up before the first frost, plant them in pots, and bring them indoors to overwinter. This will increase its survival chances until spring. If they make it to next spring, I will keep them in their pots.

Gardening, just like any other experience, teaches lessons. Lessons in knowing what will thrive in the particular environment, lessons in staying rooted, lessons in knowing when to let go, lessons in balance and moderation, lessons in patience and an  understanding that things can fail, lessons in diversity, lessons in the miracle of nature.

"Flowers are like friends; they bring color to your world." ~ Unknown

the friday feed: grandma's butterscotch squares

This Friday Feed celebrates my maternal grandma, Clara Louise Weinzierl, born on July 27, 1904. Do the math. That's 120 years ago...wow! 

My grandparents lived on a farm outside of Bloomington, Illinois. Whenever we visited, Grandma baked a pan of butterscotch squares which would be on the kitchen counter waiting for us, her four grandchildren famished from the long drive in the family station wagon. The drives weren't too terribly long, no more than 4-5 hours, but when you couldn't wait to see your grandparents, the time in the car went soooo slow. 

Dad pulled into the gravel driveway, tires crunching all the way down to the barn.  Once the car stopped, we'd pile out of the car and race to the house, first getting hugs and then making a beeline to the butterscotch squares. Oh, so good. 

After my mom died in 2020, I was going through her recipe books and found her mother's handwritten recipe book. I thumbed through the pages, smiling at all the memories that flowed from them. And then, there it was, the Butterscotch Squares recipe. I found the golden ticket. And the tradition of butterscotch squares waiting on the counter will continue when my grandsons come to visit at my house.

hello, august!

Wow, it's August!

August brings quite a few emotions with it. It feels celebratory and festive. It's still summer and a time when many of us take vacations. But there's also a feeling of nostalgia and sadness as the season winds down.  

Back in my days as a child, school started after Labor Day and itt was that way through high school. Our family vacation was always in mid-August. When it was time for college, my university was on the quarter schedule and classes started in mid-September. When my kids started school, the school calendar changed. This was due to the State testing and figuring out how to maximize academic time in the classroom in order for the schools to get the best possible ratings which was tied to school funding. My school district now starts in mid-August. Back in the teaching days, gearing up to return to school in August was tough. It felt like summer was being short-changed.

Here's a fun tidbit - August 1 marks the midpoint between the summer solstice and the autumn equinox. 

August is summer's last hurrah. By month's end we're ready for the long Labor Day weekend. As the days of this busy month go by, it's surprising that August has no major federal holidays or bank holidays. But there are plenty of celebrations, in  August. Did you know that August 8, the height of zucchini season, is Sneak Some Zucchini onto Your Neighbor's Porch Day? I have an August baby, my second daughter born on the 30th, who has blessed me with my second grandson. 

It's a month of transition, enjoying summer but thinking about fall.

I'm going to savor this last half of summer.