That You

September 23rd, 2018

Multi colored hairO on Sea BreezePier

Some people know how to throw a party. Fifty years is a lot to celebrate. Quite a few of us didn’t even make it. I went to my fifth high school reunion this weekend and this one should have been the best. Maybe it was. Maybe the standards have shifted.

I was looking forward to the first few hours of chaos, when everyone arrives and you spot an old friend across the room that you haven’t seen since high school, or someone greets you by name and you have no idea who it is, when someone tells you the silliest story, something they remember about you that doesn’t even sound like you. That you. There is a real buzz in the air as you reconnect and find yourself talking to someone you never said a word to in high school.

We experienced all this last week at Peggi’s reunion outside of Detroit. The ones my classmates threw every ten years went like this as well but something was off this time. The get together at the sports bar the night before was pure fun. Surrounded by giant tvs we managed to whoop it up. The reunion itself, the next night at the old Happy Acres golf club, was almost planned to death. Name tags were distributed as we filed in and we were encouraged to find a table so an MC/minister/classmate could work the room. And after that the town supervisor, also a classmate, said his piece. They killed the buzz in record time but we managed to rise above it all. We just had to work a little harder. We were sitting with Joe and he knows how to act. And before dinner was even finished we were milling about and magical conversations ensued.

We drove out here with Frank, the school president in 1968, and we didn’t want to leave until he had finished holding court with Marianne, Holly and Mickey so we hung out by the bar. A classmate said goodbye but came back about ten minutes later because he had forgotten his sports jacket. The committee was packing up the Party Store decorations when we went out for the car. The guy who had forgotten his jacket was still there, trying to get an Uber. He said he might be impaired and he didn’t want to jeopardize his job. We offered to give him a ride.

The front seat was Frank’s because his hip is new so we asked our passenger to sit in the back with Peggi. He had a hard time getting in because both of his knees had been replaced. We found Frank at the door and met another classmate there who was smoking a cigarette. He had too much to drink so we offered to give him a ride even though our car’s four seats were full. He refused our offer and we left. Peggi asked our back seat passenger what his job was and he told us he was a financial planner. He dropped something on the floor and fumbled around for it. It was a breathalyzer. His own breathalyzer.

How I Met My Wife

September 18th, 2018

Peggi on Blind Date, an Australian version the Dating Game, in July of 1969

In the summer of 1969, as I was preparing to go to Woodstock, Peggi and her sister were in Sydney, Australia for the summer. Actually, I didn’t prepare for Woodstock at all. I gave Dave Mahoney 25 bucks so he could buy tickets from a local radio station but no one ever collected tickets when we got there. And I simply got in Joe Barrett’s family’s Corvair with what I had on my back. No sleeping bags or change of clothes, just a few tabs of LSD in my pocket.

Peggi and her sister were bored. Their father had been transferred there from Detroit and they didn’t know anyone. They concocted a scheme to get on Australia’s version of the Dating Game. The tv show was called “Blind Date” and was hosted by Graham Webb. It ran from 1967 to 1970 on the 0-10 Network, now known as Network Ten. Peggi’s older sister sat in the audience and gave Peggi hand signals to ensure that she picked the cutest guy of the three. By some strange, small country coincidence the guy she picked had been an Australian exchange student at Peggi’s high school the year before. And his brother-in-law was working behind the scenes for the tv network. The guy was back in the states for their high school reunion and he brought three old photos, taken by his parents of the show as it was being broadcast.

Good Sport

September 16th, 2018

Hitsville USA in Detroit Michigan

Berry Gordy purchased this house on West Grand Boulevard in Detroit, Michigan in 1959. The soundtrack of our youth was recorded in Hitsville USA. Now the Motown Museum was a must see for us this weekend when we drove to Detroit for Peggi’s 50th high school reunion. We stayed downtown last time we were here and and we were happy to see how much it has bloomed since. We had lunch in the Eastern Market and Peggi bought a “Detroit Girl” t-shirt from a vendor for five bucks. This time we stayed in Royal Oak with an old friend of Peggi’s.

The reunion was a multi-pronged affair. I took photos of Peggi standing in front of two of her family’s old houses and then we met classmates at a bar where a beer and a glass of wine cost us 23 dollars. The group moved to a party at the home of one her schoolmates. He had his drums set up in the basement with blacklight posters on the wall. A group of guys who were in a band when they all were in high school entertained us in a mature lounge punk style. I spent some time talking to a biker, the partner of one of Peggi’s classmates. He had a beard like ZZ Top and he told me he worked in a machine shop long enough to lose a good deal of his hearing, the low end in his left ear and the high end in his right ear. He said if someone calls “she can always tell if I’m talking to a man or a woman because I use the left ear for women and the right ear for men.” The two of them rode their bikes from Detroit to Key West and back this summer.

The following night was the actual reunion, name tags with the high school pictures and all, and it was almost anti-climatic after the shock of seeing everyone the night before. The dj was pretty good and the class got rowdy in a hurry. Peggi and I danced to Spencer Davis’s “Gimme Some Lovin'” and the Detroit Wheels’ “Devil With The Blue Dress.” Both sounded unbelievably good. I’ve been to all five of Peggi’s reunions so I can easily find someone to talk to while Peggi is careening down Memory Lane. A few people told me I was a good sport for going. I thought I was having more fun than that.

So Much Tonight

September 13th, 2018

Army colored Dodge at Town Hall

Last year when we were working on Civilization Arpad played us a few tracks that he had recorded at Nod’s rehearsal space. We were finishing mixes for our cd and they were just starting work on a new album. The tracks we heard were rough. Nod is rough. I was anxious to hear the final results and asked about it whenever I saw one on them. I learned Joe Tunis was going to release it on his Carbon Records so I preordered it. The vinyl arrived this afternoon.

Nod has been around for twenty five years or so and this is their best album yet. Most bands go in the opposite direction. Think how good the first Talking Heads lp was and how each album after that got worse and worse. Nod is a three piece. They’ve sometimes worked with other musicians but no matter how good they are they take the edge off of Nod. Three letters, three players, Joe Sorriero, Tim Poland and Brian Shafer.

No one sounds like Nod; rhymes with odd. Imagine “No New York” with Can, an underground sound. Live, they are loud, they get the party started, but mostly because they are raw like the Stooges. And angular so you want to dance like an idiot. My favorite song on “So Much Tonight” is “Go For a Ride,” a classic Nod piece. “Rollin Around” nods to Exile on “Main Street” and “Whatchya Doin” is sweet. Nod is in good form.

Check them out. Highly reccomended.

Morricone Would Do It

September 12th, 2018

25 cent tablecloth with Citronella plant

“Ryuichi Sakamoto: Coda” played last night at the Little and it will be shown one more time, on Saturday afternoon at 3pm before it leaves town. It is a slow, beautiful movie. Slow only in the sense that you must stop talking, walking, texting to observe, to see, to listen and to hear. Like Tarkovsky, whose movies were highly influential to Sakamoto and are excerpted in this film, Sakamoto is focused on the yin and yang of equilibrium. He confronts the nuclear disaster in Japan in work, he says because if we were able to damage the earth we are able to fix it. While thumbing through a book of Tarkovsky Polaroids he says Tarkovsky was a musician because of the way he uses sound, rain, wind, footsteps, movement.

The creative process is beautifully laid out in this film as we see Ryuichi in early settings with his Yellow Magic Orchestra and in the studio working on soundtracks for “The Sheltering Sky,” “The Last Emperor,” “Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence,” and “The Revenant.” He battles cancer in the film and when pushed to explain how he felt when he received the diagnosis he says it feels like it is a joke. He says Bernardo Bertolucci asked him to rewrite some music on the spot. He said it would be impossible and Bertolucci told him, “Ennio Morricone would do it.” So he did it and an orchestra performed it a half hour later.

In a nod to the Fringe Fest, which will start tonight and be happening all around us, Margaret Explosion will be performing without a setlist! Wednesdays Little Theatre Café 7-9pm

Compromise Or Fraud

September 11th, 2018

Old lumber yard on Holt Road in Webster, New York

This old lumberyard on Holt Road in Webster looks like a movie set now. I took this shot from the side of the place as we walked the Hojak Trail. We started at North Ponds Park and walked to Drumm Road and back seeing only a handful of people the whole time. We felt like we were on the Camino again, an easy straightaway portion of the Camino, with a natural stone or mud surface and a clear trail, the old railroad line. We were almost to the lake when we turned around and will push it that far next time. I’d love to see where that guy drove through the barricade and into the water on Lake Road.

Our credit card has been compromised three times in the last year. Is that average? I don’t feel like we’re reckless but maybe we are. The repercussions are crazy. When we told the Visa representative that this was the third time our card was compromised she told us that our card was not “compromised” but someone had committed fraud with it. An interesting technicality. So that would be one compromise and two frauds in the last year.

We suspect the other fraud happened when we bought gas up near Niagara Falls. Someone skimmed our number when we inserted our card at the funky pumps. About five months ago a vendor where we used our card had their database attacked so we had to get a new card and that was a “compromise.” On Friday night we bought gas at Herrema’s down near Charlotte. Visa had told us to pay in person rather than use our card at the pump but the place was closed and the only way to pay for gas we desperately needed was to pay with a card at the pump. We pay most bills on line and contacting all our vendors is a pain in the ass.

Searching For Home

September 10th, 2018

Pete Monacelli Searching For Home Huberton Summers 1950s No3

The Little Theater tests the waters with movies by only giving them one showing. I was looking forward to the Joan Jett documentary and they have just announced it will be here for one screening, on a Wednesday this month when our band is playing in the Café. We’ll miss Dylan at the Auditorium because that too is a Wednesday. Tomorrow night “Ryuichi Sakamoto: Coda” plays the Little at 7pm. Our friend, Stan, called our attention it this one. Sakamoto was a member of the the Yellow Magic Orchestra and is an Oscar-winning film composer. After the Fukushima disaster he became an an outspoken social activist against nuclear power in Japan. A few weeks back I posted a link to a set of music he compiled for his favorite restaurant in NYC.

I’m starting to feel like that guy you see at every art opening chowing down the food. We went to two this weekend. On Friday we drove along the Parkway to Albion for Pete Monacelli’s “Searching For Home” show. This series is mostly flat, hard edged paintings with architectural shapes pulling and pushing the plane. On Sunday we stopped by Margaret Spevak’s opening in the Café. Her quilts happily cross the boundaries of craft and art. Both shows were delightful.

Fool On The Hill Pt. 2

September 9th, 2018

Pink and blue house on Lake Bluff Road

Five or six miles takes a good sized bite out the day but we are less than a month away from part two of our Camino walk and we need to be ramping it up. Peggi plotted a loop from our house that took us over to the bay, down to the lake, across Lake Bluff Road (where I photographed this house on the lake) and up Birch Hills to the trail that runs along the lake at Durand. When we got to Kings Highway we scurried across the golf course to Hoffman Road. We were surprised to see a vehicle in the driveway of the house on the hill, the one that has sat empty and unfinished since the original owner walked away from place the because he couldn’t figure out how to put a driveway in. Of course he should have given that some thought before he built the house.

Bankruptcy takes time. This house sat empty for eight years. Wouldn’t it have been in someone’s interests to get an occupation there who is paying both a mortgage and taxes? I don’t get why it takes so long. Suddenly it is on the market again and sold in days. The house is built close to the road on such a steep hill that it took three switchbacks to get to level of the garage. And by the time you get up there you don’t have enough room to turn and enter the garage. The driveway is mostly washed out now but this guy got a four wheel drive pickup up to the first turn. He told us the “house was a steal.”

We’re Gonna Touch

September 7th, 2018

Minimally Concert Hall in Fairhaven New York

Olcott and Wolcott, are both about the same distance from our house, one in the direction of Buffalo and the other on the way to Syracuse. Both are idyllic little towns on the shore of Lake Ontario, surrounded by fruit orchards. We visited both this summer and pushed it yesterday by continuing on to Fair Haven, the town after Wolcott.

Matthew was our guide. I had not been here since I was a kid and I was anxious to see the diving boards along the channel that runs off the lake into the state park. The hardware is still there but the boards are gone.

We parked in the center of town near the library, next to a street person who was sitting on the lawn. He was barefoot and wearing cut-offs, that’s it. Matthew introduced him to us and he stood up to say, “We’re going to touch” and he gave me a polite hug.

The town is charming. It swells in size over the summer and has three art galleries. We visited them all before heading to Little Sodus Inn, a dark funky bar right at the bottom of the bay. We passed a sign that read, “Curfew in Effect 10PM to 5AM Under 18 years of age.” The bartender’s top was cut really low yet it never ran out of tattoo covered breasts. We took our beers out in the sun but I could see spending some time in there.

Walking toward the lake by some dreamy cottages we stopped at the “Fly by Night Cookie Shop and Miniature Museum,” a fairytale like place run by a large German woman who looked like she stepped out of a Bruegal painting. We picked out cookies from glass jars, chocolate rum balls, “Hee Hee” cookies shaped like marijuana leaves and coconut almond macaroons.

Our next stop was a general store on Main Street with a “No Skateboarding or Loitering” sign out front. First thing that caught my eye was a shelf of gag items, a lollipop that will turn your tongue blue, birthday candles that you can’t blow out, and a bloody bandaid with a nail through it that you can wrap around your finger. A table near the door was stocked with local produce. We bought peaches, apples and eggs. The counter near the cash register was surrounded with tiers of Bic lighters, Bill’s Beef Sticks and five short stacks of “Big Slab” Beef Jerky in a big transparent case. Your choice of “Original, Black Pepper, Teriyaki, Sweet n’ Spicy and Cajun.”

Back at our car the shirtless guy was still on the lawn and a young couple, maybe eighteen years old or so, was sitting on a bench. The woman was was clearly strung out and she jumped up to pace with her phone. She walked around the building and returned holding the phone out to the guy and asking the person on the other end if they wanted to talk to daddy.

Corporal Punishment

September 5th, 2018

Virgin Mary statue in front of Bishop Kearney High School on the first day of school 2018

I went to two high schools. This one, above, is Bishop Kearney. We walked by there yesterday on our way to Starbucks. I like how the Virgin Mary, flag and cross on top of the building line up. I went here for two years and couldn’t wait to get out. Back in the day the whole left side of the building was for girls and we were on the right. The nuns and Irish Christian brothers lived on the top floor. The gymnasium was straight ahead and there was a little closet-like room between the gym doors where the brothers would take you and apply corporal punishment if you misbehaved. It was a Catholic thing. We had dinner with Martha O’Connor the other night and determined that her brother, Kevin, was in my class. I think I remember him. It was a long time ago. RL Thomas, where I went for my second two years, was a lot more memorable.

Margaret Explosion plays the Little Theatre Café every Wednesday in September. Here’s a song from our last gig.

Margaret Explosion - Homeward

Margaret Explosion – Homeward

Hearting The ADKs

August 31st, 2018

Big caterpillar on road in Adirondacks

Peggi’s phone read 93 degrees when we lost our cellular coverage so it stayed that way for two days while we were off the grid. It was too hot to do anything but sit and talk. And when dinnertime came Pete had some Tabouli, tomatoes and freshly pickled cucumbers ready to serve.

Out on the road the next morning we walked two and half miles toward Crown Point and before turning around. Long before the Revolutionary War the British fought the French at Crown Point on Lake Champlain. This is a dirt road and the only vehicle we saw was a logging truck.

The temperature dropped about forty degrees the next day. I dumped the rain water out of the rowboat and the four of us went out on the marsh. The sticker on the side of the boat said it held 400 pounds so it road pretty low. The boat didn’t have any oars so Pete worked a canoe paddle from the rear and Shelley sat up front with another paddle. Peggi and I sat in the middle and we floated through yellow pond lilies from one beaver dam to the next. It is incredibly beautiful up here.

We drank Gennys by candlelight and listen to tracks from the Gigunda vault.

Pete LaBonne – Acorn Girl

Desire of Ages

August 28th, 2018

Steel box near river on Plymouth Avenue

We couldn’t decide which way to walk. When we got to the corner we paused and then went the way didn’t go yesterday. We discussed coffee and the headed toward Starbucks. We heard someone on a P.A. in the distance, maybe at the town hall, so we headed that way. There was garage sale going on in the old farm house on Culver, the one set way back from the road. I was looking at a Snoopy Pez dispenser and Peggi was looking at some wine glasses when the homeowner came over to say they were closing up shop and they were just going to take everything out to the curb. He offered to get us a box that we could fill up for five bucks. That was easy.

We grabbed the glasses, a Blue Ray box set of the Godfather movies, dvd of Mystic River and Kill Bill. I chose three eps, Tom Jones Live, Ray Charles Crying Time ad the soundtrack to Dr. Zhivago which is primarily Lara’s Theme.We took a stack of books, As I lay Dying, Of Human Bondage, Main Street and the complete works of Shakespeare. And for good measure I through in a book called The Desire of Ages, the 1898 life of Christ by Ellen G. White. Each short chapter is illustrated. I might just cut the pictures out. We told the owner we would be back in a few hours to pick up the box.

A big band, comprised of old people and teens, was playing in the band stand behind Town Hall. That must have been what we heard earlier. They did “Happy” and then KC’s ”Boogie Shoes.” We had seen a sign for the Sea Breeze Fire Department Festival, something we had stumbled onto years ago while we were out biking, so we headed toward the lake on Kings Highway. We found a big cooler with a bag of ice and a five inch stack in individually wrapped American cheese slices in it. The festival was apparently the day before. We turned around and spotted a pair of Santa and Mrs. Claus gnomes, about ten inches high, sitting under a shrub in someone’s yard. So cute they must leave it up year round.

Origin Of Matter

August 26th, 2018

Colleen Buzzard three dimensional drawing, "Origin of Matter" at Main Street Gallery

The quickest way to Clifton Springs requires two NYS Thruway legs, a fifty five cent toll. We were there in forty minutes. Pete and Gloria were in the back seat and of course we talked the whole way out. We were at Main Street Arts to see the Upstate New York Drawing Invitational, work from six upstate artists.

Kathy Farrell’s work looked more like painting, maybe drawing with paint with chunks of flat maps. They were attractive and fun. Tricia Butski, from Buffalo, has some strong graphic charcoals that are really impressive. My favorite piece, and one we considered buying if only we could figure out how to light it, is the three dimensional drawing by Colleen Buzzard, pictured above. (And please click on the photo so you can see the whole piece.) It’s called “Origin of Matter” and it is made (drawn) with wire, thread, ink on paper, torn paper and printer’s tape. We have radiant heat pipes in our ceiling so mounting a light to cast these integral shadows would be a challenge.

Acorn Girl

August 23rd, 2018

Bag of potato chips on blue sofa by curb along Culver Road in Rochester, New York

We tell how humid it is by how easily our front door closes. When we’re home we keep it locked but slightly ajar so we can get in without a key. A gentle tug closes it part way, the bugs stay out and we have easy access. When the humidity is really low the damn thing closes behind us. It was really low today, a perfect day for a walk to the beach. And once there we walked out the pier. We are headed back to Spain to complete our walk and we have just started to ramp up our milage.

We had dinner with friends last night. The youngest in our midst was an old friend’s son. He was playing country blues on a three quarter size guitar when we arrived. I went to high school with his father and he has been dead for quite some time now. We are still friends with his wife, Chuck’s “Acorn Girl.” I was struck by how much the son reminded me of his father. I wasn’t expecting it for some reason. I thought his father was truly one of a kind. I think he would be so proud of his son.

Here is one of Chuck Cuminale’s songs, “Acorn Girl,” as performed by Pete LaBonne.

Pete LaBonne – Acorn Girl

Salvaged From A Shredder

August 22nd, 2018

Flowers at Amans on East Ridge Road in Rochester, New York

Aman’s Farm Market picked up the slack when Abby Wambach’s parent’s place closed and they’ve been busier than ever. It’s family run as well but they have been around since 1867. They are great alternative to Wegman’s for fresh corn, strawberries and peaches. Their perennials are half price now so we put a few Vermillionaire plants in our backpacks and planted them out front by the four horseshoe chairs. Jim Mott painted the chairs and he was sitting in the fourth while he painted these three. They came from grandparents place on Gregory Hill Road but you can still get metal chairs just like them. We are delighted to find the small, orange, tubular flowers of the Vermillion plants are Hummingbird magnets.

We read this morning that the FBI was able to reconstruct shredded documents and use them to prosecute Trump’s lawyer, Micheal Cohen. I’m trying to imagine what that project must have been like.

Napkin Rings

August 20th, 2018

Woman painting steeple at Christ Church in Irondequoit

The brakes on our 2003 Element went funky over the weekend. Not bad enough to reach the calipers but they just started falling apart. I called B&B Auto and they were able to take us in so we left before breakfast, dropped it off and walked back home. We stopped at I-Square for a latte and watched this woman scraping the wooden steeple on the church across from the House of Guitars.

We spotted a handmade sign across the street from the town hall for a “Record Album Sale” so we stopped to check it out. A guy with a black wig was loading a car in the driveway and he seemed bothered that we interested in the sale. He told us to wait a minute while he locked up the dogs and then he led us to a small room with thousands of records. “Everything is a buck” he said and that was the last we saw of him.

The records were in surprisingly good shape, some never played, and there were multiple copies of many. We had a short stack in no time, Nino Roto’s soundtrack to the Godfather, KC and the Sunshine Band, Art Tatum, Stand by Sly and Family Stone and something I had never seen before, Our Memories of Elvis with a picture of Elvis’s father and the Colonel on the front.

A woman was screaming at someone on the phone in another room. It seems her brother wanted her to pick him up and help him take back his empties. When she hung up she came in the small room to ask if we wanted some napkin rings. Peggi said no and then the woman asked if we canned. Peggi said yes, but that was as far as that conversation went. And then she started complaining about foreign people. “They want everything for nothing. Always trying to talk me down. I gotta get rid of this stuff. I’m just gonna give it all away.” She asked Peggi if she could get rid of the words on her tv. She said, “I’m a little hard of hearing but I don’t need the words at the bottom.” She was watching QVC and screaming at one of the contestants.

She got on the phone again and told someone that the guy had met someone on Facebook and he was moving out. She said, “I hope it’s a scam.”

Chicken Transfiguration

August 18th, 2018

Rocks at Durand Eastman in summer

Forget about walking along the beach at Durand. The lake level is too high again and there is hardly any sand visible after all that rain.

We met our friends for Fungi pizza at Napa Bistro in Webster. I had been playing Sly and Family Stone singles before we left, I kicked it off the set with with “Family Affair,” and realized I had two copies of “Everyday People.” So I gave one to Matthew and Louise at lunch. Matthew tried returning the wine glasses we had left out at their place but I refused them. Louise was wearing a vintage t-shirt from her brother’s band, Luna, and we talked music, art, home improvement and boating. The time flew by.

The Church of the Transfiguration, on the corner of our street, was having a cookout toady. We had it on our calendar for a month but we had the timeframe wrong and they were packing up when got there. So we came home and ate leftovers.

Iron Cannibal Choppers

August 17th, 2018

Woods off of Kings Highway in Rochester, New York

There was hardly anyone on the golf course when we cut through this afternoon. Maybe it was too wet. We saw the beer lady in her cart and she was just sitting under a tree studying her phone. We came across a dead skunk on one of the greens with a puncture wound in his stomach and surprisingly it didn’t stink.

At the lake we took Kings Highway up to the library. We walk on the shoulder going against traffic as cars act like its a drag strip in that isolated Stretch. The undeveloped part of the park was thick and lush, too thick to even walk through this time of year. We usually stop in the library, study the new releases, and use their bathrooms but we didn’t have any time for that today. We were headed over to Deborah Ronnen’s to check out some new prints. Our favorite was by Kiki Smith.

We passed a Harley up on the sidewalk and grey haired biker on his cell phone. It wasn’t until we were right on top of him that we were able to read his t-shirt. “Iron Cannibal Choppers.” At the end of street we spotted a big patch of orange Chanterelle mushrooms. While we were walking a I made a mental note to look up Genesee beer and BlackkKlansman when I got back. I thought someone would be talking about the Genesee neon signs in the bar scene. Either they carry the local beer in Colorado Springs or someone scored a strategic product placement. I didn’t find anything.

After our art preview we had the Sesame Tofu special at Lanai and talked to the chef, Rico, about Hawaii. Peggi complemented him on the soundtrack, most of which she first heard her mom play on weekends back in the first Polynesian wave.

Italian Power Forever

August 16th, 2018

SoccerB ball chair out by the curb, Rochester, New York

We are only a week away from the start of the season for La Liga and this guy is dumping his match time chair!

I like it when late summer slows things down to a crawl. Boring is not the right word for it, I find myself in too much of a stupor to feel bored. We linger longer after the horseshoes fly. I’ve been on a losing streak, though, and I’m wondering if it might be the logy weather. But why wouldn’t it affect my opponent? In a few weeks the cooler weather will clear my head and I’ll be productive members of society again.

I volunteered to do the name tags for an upcoming high school reunion. I did them ten years ago and I still have the files. Someone in the class is sharing a Google spreadsheet of who’s coming with me and I’m working my way through them. I see Matt Sanfilippo has not sent his check in. He signed my yearbook, “Italian Power Forever!”

The Corn Is As High As

August 15th, 2018

Jared and tall Indian Corn 2018

Jared’s grandkids broke his glass rain collector but he estimated we had almost two inches of rain the other night. Other parts of the county got up to nine. I expected to find some of our tomato plants laying on the ground but they were all still standing. Peggi brought home a bag of them and we plan on making gazpacho. We’ll use the cucumbers from next door. Maybe try this recipe. We were trying to estimate how tall these corn stalks are. Our best guess is fifteen feet.