Eventually we ended up at the Colony Plaza to drink some hot apple cider at the Brew Ha Ha. Cups in hand, we tottled two doors down to Allen Stoneware. I asked Vickie if she donated a piece of hers to the Humane Society annual to-do. She didn't recall because she is most generous with her work, but I am purt near positive I recognized her blue glaze at the fundraiser. Glory. |
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This is the first winter in my memory that I don't have to be anywhere. I am praying for a season of serenity.
First test run of IT'S DUN! Went to Shannon's house where her whole family was finally in one place at the same time for family pictures. Terry did his thing: rounded everyone up, placed them, posed them, the whole works. Me, I stayed out of his way and took my black and whites. This one I 'antiqued'. Groovy, no? We came home and made our cuts. I uploaded what you will see here to Walmart. Why Walmart? Because it is the easiest way I know to say, "IT'S DUN."
Not to be confused with crock pot cooking. The idea of slow foods is only in part the antonym of 'fast food.' Eating slow means eating local foods, connecting to the community. It's a grassroots philosophy that can be explained further at 'slow food international.' Sorry, it is beyond my small capabilities right now to make a link there.
I bumped into the idea of slow food when I heard about some folks who volenteered to eat slow for a year. Four families, I believe, agreed to buy the majority of their groceries within a fifty or a hundred mile radius. Certain things, like salt, had to come from further away. After the year was up, all involved agreed that the experiment had opened their eyes with some of the difficulties in procuring local foods. All of them talked about certain treats they had to give up because of the slow restrictions. None of them decided to live permanantly in that slow radius. Tonight's dinner was fairly slow. I made mashed potatoes with local new potatoes and added about a tablespoon of fresh parsley from the same roadside stand. When I mixed up my pot of baked beans, I added sweet onion and chunks of Gala apples grown locally. My skin on mashed potatoes looked lovely with their flecks of green. The beans were a picture. Embarassed to admit I wasted time attempting to capture Rothstein's photographs through my lens, but I wasted very little time through that. I experienced Arthur Rothstein's humanity with eyes unencumbered by the camera. Then, of course, I turned to Terry. Time to put away Baby and get out my little Fujifilm, my little black and white.
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May 2016
If you don't dream they can't come true
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