Watsontown, PA

“How’d you find Watsontown?” asked one of my 111 high school classmates after Stoic and I ended up there as we drove home from Niagara Falls last month. She, incidentally, is among the handful of us who didn’t stay there after graduation. Well, as a vaudeville comic might say, with great difficulty. I think because… Continue reading Watsontown, PA

Fresh, fabulous figs

We waited longer for figs than for a baby. The latter took just under 3 years; the former, more than 25. And this year, booyah!, we have figs. Figs to eat out of hand, figs to freeze for making preserves and figs to cook. Assuming figs grew in Eden (fig leaves, remember?), why would anyone leave,… Continue reading Fresh, fabulous figs

Strawberry pie; pork and cabbage salad

At the tire store yesterday to get a pickup tire patched, I bought this spring’s first local strawberries. (Hey, in our neck of the woods, it can pay to listen to the old men chatting amongst themselves!) They were perfectly ripe and sweet, he obviously picked them before the drenching rains hit, and I had… Continue reading Strawberry pie; pork and cabbage salad

New year, new me, blah, blah, Brussels sprouts

Time to get re-revved. I’ve rejoined the YMCA after 6 years away. I can walk on the treadmill, do weight circuits, take water aerobics, spin and zumba classes, swim laps. If only it weren’t so much easier to lie in the recliner, read novels (ooh, like Barbara Kingsolver’s Flight Behavior) and eat leftover Christmas candy! Christmas around here really… Continue reading New year, new me, blah, blah, Brussels sprouts

Spring is not for sissies, strawberry crisp

Somehow we associate baby pastels with springtime, yet when I look outside, I see primary colors: The sky, of course, is Carolina (ick, go NC State!) blue and the baby maple leaves, red before they’re green. The intense yellow of the wild mustard and forage turnips, blanketing Iredell pastures as well as the meadowlark breasts turned to… Continue reading Spring is not for sissies, strawberry crisp