It has occurred to me over the last several weeks that I have a large case of arrested development. I simply don’t know what I want to be when I grow up. Once again, Netflix to the rescue!
Let me explain. Over my eight-week incarceration ( the sentence was to eight weeks of extreme boredom for the crime of wearing stilts most of my life), I watched a lot of Netflix since I couldn’t do much else but beg my friends to make Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup runs to Fred’s from time to time.
My new friend, Paul Buckley, is producing some pretty stunning art on his computer.
I gave this one of downtown Starkville at sunset to my son for his birthday. Paul waited days with his telephoto lens to capture the scene on the one day in the year when the sunset produces this effect. Unfortunately, my phone camera didn’t do it justice.
Now hold on. The word “pimp” doesn’t always refer to some slimy guy setting up clandestine meetings in dark alleys. In this case it means the magical ability to turn lowly grits into the food of the Gods. You pimp them when you take them to new heights through the addition of non-traditional ingredients. Above, Chef Vivian Howard demonstrates one of the grits recipes in her restaurant in North Carolina. In her show “Life of a Chef” on CREATE, she devotes her time to featuring a “farm to table” menu Continue reading
I look a little like Santa creeping around the yard with a big black sack thrown on my back. Wonder why no one ever told me before that you can compost all those leaves in your yard with a couple of simple steps? Jane Loveless, one of my garden mentors, announced that we are throwing out the baby with the bath water by bagging our leaves and leaving them on the curb to be hauled to the landfill.
I love to create interesting vignettes in my garden. Sometimes they work and sometimes they don’t. The above is one of my favorites (not mine unfortunately), and I’m searching junk shops for old galvanized pots. I’m especially interested in one on an stand which I assume were created for pioneer homemakers as a wash-day convenience. Boy has convenience come a long way, Baby.