Wheel of Time -
Seasons Go By -
Rust Never Sleeps

Blue Beauties

greeted by a budding forsythia branch,
hugged by leaves whose days are done,
encircled by myrtle ever-green,
blue beauties smile on their garden day.

Winter Berries

Winter berries doggedly remain.
They've withstood
driving rain,
winter freeze,
heavy snow.
And passed over by cedar waxwings,
they now take on a different role in the circle of life,
as they gently let go, to fertilize earth.

Leading to the Unknown

Railroad tracks mesmerize me.
Like sirens of the sea, they tempt me to follow:
mystery lies ahead,
an unknown destination,
a new adventure,
my destiny.

But I save that path for another day,
and memorialize the moment.

Early Harbingers of Spring in Michigan - 3/22/10

Throughout the garden, early blooms rise up through garden detritus. They stand alone, and gently sway like lonely sentinels watching over a graveyard.

They’ll soon be joined by others, as a greening mass slowly makes its way over the garden. By then, these original sentinels will have faded, making room for others whose time has come.

Although they will not play a part in the final array of spring plants that will soon cover every inch, they’ve played their part in the panoply we welcome as spring...yes, life.

The Allure of a Manicure - A Comfort Forfeiture - Old McDonalds Reassures - 3/12/10

Having a manicure is not one of my normal habits but today I indulged myself after looking in disgust at what I call my nails. Walking into a local nail salon for the first time, I was greeted by a woman sitting in a customer chair, manning her laptop, asking me what I wanted. “I’d like a manicure?” “Sit here.” Alrighty then. There were also two men in the rear of the shop, sitting at computers, and as the manicurist and I became situated and began the process, there was a constant stream of conversation between the three of them in their native language (Seinfeld fans, you know what I’m thinking).

Well, so what. English seemed to be a little difficult for her and I’m not a big fan of idle chit-chat anyway. Then she took a personal call on her call phone while she’s working on me - now she’s losing me. But the rest of the manicure transpired silently and I started to look around the shop. Egads! The place was filthy: the towel my hands were on, the dirty little fan used to dry my nails, dust on the entire work station, a small anonymous machine with dried drippings of some mysterious thing along its sides, work chairs stained, dirt on the floor - yikes!

I tried not to think about it while she finished. The concluding procedure was moving me to a counter with some sort of cool (not as in “groovy”) light that was intended to dry my nails. So I’m now in the front of the shop, facing the room. My manicurist immediately returns to my chair with her laptop, faces the two men in the rear, and they all resume their obscure (to me) conversation and computer gaming. Having nothing else to look at, I became the Peeping Thomasina.

During my time under the light, with my hands on the sticky counter, as I was dreaming of washing these same hands, another customer entered and in response to “what do you want?”, asked for a pedicure. Without another word, one of the men got up to wait on her. Division of labor is obviously clearly demarcated. After about 15 minutes at the drying counter, my manicurist turned around to ask me if my nails were dry. Once again, I was taken aback. I assumed I was on a timer of some kind. To my response of “I don’t know, what do you think?”, she said most would be done by now. Good enough for me - just let me out of here.

This was one of the most unprofessional businesses I have ever patronized. And here’s the postscript. My next stop was the gas station. By the time I opened the gas cap and started the pump, four nails were partially ruined, polish still soft enough that I could still ineffectively push it around in a vain attempt to salvage the manicure. Nice. Having hunger pains and wanting to salve the trauma, I treated myself to a McDonald’s cheeseburger and french fries (easy now, it’s been at least six months since I’ve caved to that indulgence). Life is good.

Adventures in Wine #2 - January 2010

With a slightly different group, we gathered again. This time we were blind tasting - comparing grapes, and new world vs old world. Discerning the flavors and learning to put a name to that flavor is a skill for which we all strive. Do you taste earthiness, minerality, black cherries, citrus? How about wet earth, chalk, teachers (no, not the last one; that was just a hilarious moment). How oaked is it? Being guided by a passionate expert, it becomes a great learning experience. There were brief moments when our Wine Host lost control of the group but he managed to wrest it back amidst the laughter. And when he waxed on a bit too long in his enthusiasm, his able assistant gave him a gentle nudge to move along.

One member of the group is an Executive Chef and we prevailed upon him to bring the appetizers this time. At our last gathering, he had brought the bulk of the food and anything anyone else had brought paled in comparison. So this excellent decision resulted in a gourmet spread worthy of a fine restaurant.

Wines were kept around the corner and served from within a brown paper bag, identities concealed. Beginning with Sauvignon Blanc from New Zealand, we compared Chardonnays from France and California, and Rieslings from Germany and Michigan. Moving from whites to reds, next up were Pinot Noirs from France and California. Our one Italian wine was a Sangiovese from Tuscany, and the next four wines were blends from France, Australia, California, and France. (The resulting discussion reminded me of a funny Frasier episode in which Frasier and Niles are competing against each other for Corkmaster of their Wine Club. The final blind taste-off bottle is identified as a Merlot by Niles and a Cabernet by Frasier. The wine is 45% Cabernet and 55% Merlot so Niles wins.) Our last taste-off bottle was a Cabernet Sauvignon from Napa Valley and although we were all sorry to see the evening end, our taste buds were saturated (someone’s lips were numb :) and any further tastings would have been for naught.

It was a very enjoyable evening and here are two important things to take away:

~ Only novices hold up their wine to the light to judge it visually; instead look at it against a white piece of paper.

~ Amateurs are tentative about their opinions; professionals make statements with confidence.

In vino veritas ~