You may have noticed that a little while ago our site stopped sending you mail when there was new content. I updated the website software and unfortunately this introduced a problem with the email system.

It's fixed now, and much improved from the last version.

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Thanks for your patience!

Sitting in our garage for ten-plus years has been a cute red 1974 Triumph TR6. Sitting there because of the need for a transmission overhaul, that I knew would require me to dig up a couple of my coffee cans of money buried in the backyard. It has also been thought of as a retirement project. Now that I'm on the cusp of that state, my fancy has been captured by the idea of building a 14-foot strip-built rowing boat called a Cosine Wherry.

I find in myself, once again, such a wonder at the marvels of nature. I was awakened in the middle of the night last night to the most spectacular lightning. It filled my bedroom with daylight flashes that were followed, after a hesitation of a good 20 seconds, by thunder that had the windows rattling and the cats either under the bed or clinging to my comforter covered form.
I had to leave my bed to open a door and stand outside for a while until I felt the pattern of light and sound inside my soul.

Adeline Emma Thompson was born this week to John and Katie Thompson. John is the great grandson of my grandfather, John Mindling. I believe she is Ward and Barbie Thompson's first grandchild.

Dad loved messing about with his trailer. He enjoyed that as much as camping, I think. He would find excuses to "take the trailer for a ride". Perhaps it was to check out some new hitch adjustment, or work the grease in after packing the bearings. It might be around the block, or it might be to the ocean or the redwoods for a picnic.

Rainwater drips from the roof corner where the eaves come together, making a little puddle of clear water and glistening pebbles, washed clean by the constant dripping. A reminder that I should have blown the pine needles from the roof before the rain, but also triggering a memory of a winter long ago.

I am intrigued but deep down I want to know where my BLT vending machine is.

http://slice.seriouseats.com/archives/2009/03/lets-pizza-italian-italy-p...

Our hellebore always has that effect on me. The narcissus and daffodils show themselves as they emerge along the driveway as we come and go. But the hellebore is a bit hidden away up in back among the fallen leaves, twigs, and pine needles. I come upon it about the end of February when i creep out blinking in the cold still winter early morning with my cup of coffee, muttering about the cleanup i should do, stumbling over dead branches. And there, omigosh, look at that.