Addiction

Addiction:  the state of being enslaved to a habit or practice....  I'll admit it, I'm addicted to the sky.  I can't help myself when I see a particularly beautiful sunrise or sunset, or even a flotilla of puffy white clouds sailing overhead and I reach for the camera.  It may be a holdover from when Steve was alive and we would call to each other to, "Come see!"  I still have this need to share.

Addiction comes in many forms, and I may be developing an over-fondness for agrodolce, that Italian sweet-sour sauce.  Having tried it on Pete just a couple of days ago, when Clay came up yesterday I couldn't help myself and made it again.  I did put it over butternut squash as before, but it went wonderfully with pork chops and Clay gave the sauce a thumbs up of approval, too.

The weather has been so goofy this year.  It seems too early for the lilac leaves to turn color, but they sure are pretty.  I started this hedge, such as it is, from rootless, bare twig cuttings, and now it's above the eaves.  I never planned to have anything block the view from my kitchen windows, but what I didn't realize at first is that the summer sun beats in and the room becomes stifling.  It's the one room in the house without a ceiling fan and has poor cross ventilation, so the shade provided by the lilacs is most welcome.  There's the added bonus of having little birds right there at eye level.  The branches go bare in winter and let in plenty of light.

Clay had come up to see what, if anything, could be done about the log splitter.  The last time Helper Dude was going to work on the mound of oak rounds, the splitter would not start.  I had nightmares about having to replace the darned thing, and I was getting worried because I sure don't have enough firewood to get through the winter.  We're due for rain and dropping temperatures by the end of this week.  With no thermostat in the house, one must plan ahead for heat in cold weather.  Clay fiddled with this or that, gave the machine a shot of starter fluid, and ta da! that sucker fired right up.  Instead of nightmares, I'm having visions of a cozy wood stove.  Of course, there are all those rounds to be split first.

As much as I appreciate Clay's help, his real gift was his time and that's never to be taken for granted.  My Kids are my joy.

It was a good day.