Last night I couldn’t sleep, I got up, pulled on my jacket and took a walk around the neighborhood. It was interesting to see which of my neighbors leave lights one all night. Some have a totally dark house and others leave the porch light on.
I think I would be more inclined to like the people who leave the light on – it seems more hospitable. But then again, maybe they do it out of being paranoid and having safety concerns. I guess some people feel better about having lights on to deter criminals.
It’s logical to think that someone breaking into your house would prefer to do that in the dark instead of standing under a bright light. But then again, who is up and about at 3:00 to see who is breaking into houses? Except people like me who can’t sleep and happen to walking by. But I saw nothing suspicious and after about 20 minutes of fresh air, it suddenly hit me that I was very tired. I got home and fell out.
Goodbye, Daylight Savings. I’m going to miss you. The darkness always comes too early to suit me.
Thank God for Indian Summer. It got cold for a few days, which always gets the leaves to turn color. Then it gets warm again. So I can still grill my supper most nights.
That’s what I love about the South. Almost never too cold and nasty to grill. Those suckers up north have to deal with soups and stews in the winter. But down here we are still barbecuing and grilling steaks outside on the deck. Oh, snap!
The days of having a daily newspaper delivered to your door are numbered. I remember as a kid we had three newspapers delivered to our house every day. In the morning we had the Washington Post and the Wall Street Journal delivered to a metal box on top of a metal fence post at the end of the driveway. Every morning my dad would call to our dog, Lucky, and walk down to the paper box and get the newspaper. He read them both over his morning cup of coffee and then the breakfast that my mom cooked for him.
In the afternoons we would get the Evening Star delivered to the house. The Star brought us up to date on all the news that had happened that day, missed by the early edition of the Washington Post, which had to go to press at midnight. The Star also carried a lot more of the local news. The Lions Club meetings, the high school football games and high school events, and speeches by the Mayor or other dignitaries.
I do miss those days. The cable news and the internet give us the daily and breaking news, but it just is not the same as reading the newspaper in the easy chair with a hot cup of coffee and Lucky sitting beside you.
As kids we were taken to several different places that let you “pick your own” fruits and vegetables. My parents would take us because we would save some money by picking your own, but also because it was a wholesome family activity that would keep us busy for sometimes hours at a time.
My parents believed that fresh picked not only tastes best but is healthiest for you, and I agree. We often went to a farm that grew strawberries and we would load up the freezer with fresh strawberries – my mom’s most favorite fruit in the world. We also picked other fruits and vegetables, and we patronized a lot of fresh fruit and vegetable stands that lined the Maryland highways, buying everything from fresh peaches to cantalopes to green beans to sweet corn.
When my children were young, we continued that tradition with them and they have picked many things from other’s gardens as well as our own. But our favorite has always been to pick blueberries. Not only is picking blueberries great family fun, but they freeze and keep well, and can be used in so many delicious things from the kitchen. There’s nothing like a stack of grandma’s fresh blueberry pancakes with melting real butter and warm blueberry syrup!