The best honey I’ve ever had.
I made some granola Saturday and used almost the very last drops of a jar of honey that I bought last spring while I was in Germany. I say “almost” because I intentionally saved a teeny bit for a soothing cup or two of tea (with bourbon and lemon) that I will savor during my inevitable and eventual winter cold. I think I’ll need it then.
Honey has kind of become a thing in our house, like refrigerator magnets and miniature models of landmarks. I buy it when I travel and it’s like bringing home a literal sweet reminder of where I was.
The jar that I nearly kicked today was purchased on a drizzly day in April, at the Saturday market in the Munsterplatz in Freiburg. I’ve visited this market a number of times over the years, but, this was the first time my youngest son experienced it. Unimagined by us, it was also the last time I would go there with my uncle.
The beautiful Munster, perpetually wrapped in scaffolding, has stood in that square for centuries providing shelter and comfort to generations. We ate sausages made by the same family who had been selling their delicious wursts in that same spot for decades. The honey, in its squat jar, tasted like pine or cedar and was the best honey I’ve ever eaten. I’m a little embarrassed about how sad I am that it’s nearly gone.
A year ago, my uncle was here, in my home. We visited Olana and attended Oktoberfest. He, as a consummate German, made himself useful and cleaned my toaster oven. It was a special time, made even more so retrospectively, after his sudden death. Like that jar of honey it was sweet and I wish it hadn’t come to an end so damned quickly.
The lunar b*tches ran tonight and it was blissful. The air felt damp in a delicious way and we ran well, loose and comfortable. With two miles left, I tossed out Las Vegas and the massacre which occurred there today. Like our pace, our thoughts were in synch.
We wondered why those kind of weapons were made available to civilians? Why? How is it possible for a person to take 10+ weapons into a hotel without attracting notice? We talked about how, for God’s sake, gun violence was something we could actually do something about as a country. If we wanted to.
This perpetual state of “worst mass shooting in modern times” we’re living in, needs to end. How does the ability of an individual to possess enough weaponary to kill 58 people and be responsible for injuring more than 500 more, make anyone in the United States feel safer? Enough.
We have the power to change this. We can take control, through the legislative process and education, of the number of weapons allowed in our society. If we cared enough about what’s important, that is.
The reason we don’t direct our attention and efforts towards eradicating the problem our country has with gun violence is that there’s too much money to be made selling weapons and war. We’d rather profit from death than prevent it.
Tell me I’m wrong.
Filed under DelSo, Exercise, friends, moms, musings, News, Observations, politics, Rant, running, Uncategorized
You quickly pull on clothes, pausing to brush teeth, and grab your camera and dog and get outside. You make your way down the stone steps to the dock and the water and, if you’re lucky, your Labrador actually obeys when you ask him to please not jump into the pond, thus allowing you to avoid having to deal with a wet dog first thing in the morning. The birds chirp and the fish in the pond jump and the sky is lit up like a popsicle and you know it’s going to be a good day.
The boys’ Crib
When the most intense colors of the sunrise fade (so quickly!), you take a little walk before wandering back to the house which is home for the week, taking in the fact that your youngest is now old enough to sleep in the separate cabin without the
annoyance presence of any grown ups. You smile when you note that the “big” boys slept in their cabin sans adults but avec, it seems, every single light on.
Then, it’s to the screened-in porch, with a scarf to keep the crisp morning air at bay, to watch and listen to the birds enjoy their breakfast. Breakfast…time to make pancakes. Hello, Tuesday.
When I run, I think. Last night I was thinking about the turmoil in our world – the terrorist attacks in our country and abroad, the conflict between our elected representatives and the folks they’re supposed to represent, the wave of anger that sometimes feels like it’s going to drown our country…it was pretty dark. The four letter word that seems to be most prevalent in all of those conditions seems to be hate, a word that I try not to use.
As the miles started ticking off, I began considering all of the other four letter words that I’m more inclined to use and realized how many of them have positive, even joyous, connotations. As I started listing them in my head I knew I needed to jot them down for the days that feel dark and populated by those who would rather hate than love. Here are my top 50, in alphabetical order. You know, because I’m a librarian and all.
What are your essential four-letter words?
One of the roads taken on this trip.
Do you ever have a day or two or three when it feels like you must be doing something right in your life? I mean, how else can you accept the good fortune that you’re experiencing? It almost makes a person believe that old adage about how if you’re happy inside, you’re happy everywhere you are. There’s no other way to explain the feeling of loving everywhere you go.
This trip has been remarkable. As I sat facing the charm of Rainbow Row, I had a hard time processing how lucky I’ve been in Charleston. The rain cooperated and only came at times that had no bearing at all on my activities. That’s saying something considering it rained 3 of my 5 days there. The people I’ve talked to have been friendly, the drinks cold and the food terrific. I scored parking each time I needed to and only hit legitimate traffic once – and that was on a draw bridge. It couldn’t have been a better solo trip.
You know, I didn’t grow up expecting to ever be in a position where I could indulge my itch to travel. I’ve come a long way since my first trip to Florida with one of my dearest friend’s family when I had $50 in my pocket, and that only because my brother gave it to me as I left our house. Along the way I learned to travel inexpensively, meals from grocery stores and delis, low budget accommodations, lots of self guided walking tours…you get it. It was good practice and I learned a lot.
Memories were made and I’m heading home with what feels like a new piece in place in my life’s mosaic. What’s your next destination?
“So shut up, live, travel, adventure, bless and don’t be sorry”
– Jack Kerouac
Why don’t drivers open their car windows on beautiful days? I suppose some may have allergies or might be on a call, but it seems like lots of folks don’t ever let fresh air in.
If we’re all just a moment from a terrible diagnosis, an accident or a horrible tragedy how can we make today count?
How is it possible for so many people to believe in Donald Trump? What does he have to do before his followers will accept that he is unfit for office?
Does anyone else think that time is simply moving too fast? I miss the days when summers felt so long that I was convinced the flowering shrubs bordering our driveway bloomed twice.
Why does leaving my phone at home when I take a walk or go to dinner feel like a rebellion? Is it really necessary for us all to be instantaneously reachable?
When will we stop fighting about civil rights and access to health care and higher education? What makes anyone believe that they’re more deserving of any of these things than anyone else?
Do you miss civility and manners like I do?
If you could time travel, which way would you go – back or forward?
One of the primary lessons we teach children is to share. How does that tenet get forgotten by so many greedy adults?
Why is life so hard for so many and how can I help to make it better?
There are so many thoughts and ideas bouncing around in my head about my experience as a business owner. It’s like too many, almost, and the words are choking me instead of flying out of my mouth. I can’t settle on where to start.
Other than with Day 1.
Waking up Saturday morning was different. The entire day ahead was completely my own and immediately it felt new. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve had other days off when I had no professional responsibilities to address, but after knocking off the banking and the daily journal, there was nothing left for me to do, nothing further to take care of.
It was Day 1 of not owning a restaurant, the perfect day to begin processing the experience of owning a restaurant.
- Owning a restaurant is like adopting a family.
- Owning a restaurant is more stressful than you can ever imagine.
- Owning a restaurant is unequal parts challenging and inspiring.
- Owning a restaurant taught me so much.
Each of those above bullets deserves its own spotlight. Stay tuned.