Life started out briskly the other morning.
Dried poplar leaves twirled a foot above our driveway.
Silhouettes of dark clouds were on the horizon.
“LAST CALL,” read a handwritten sign at the sweet corn stand.
“What?” I thought. “They are flashing the lights on and off already?”
Instead of giving mouth to mouth to my once vibrant impatiens, I ripped them out of the dirt by their long legs and put away their pots.
My Sweet Sven’s calling in life is to gain knowledge. He likes facts.
And so this sentence came out of his perfectly formed lips.
“Hey Millie, did you know that we are going to lose two minutes of daylight every morning and every night this month?”
“It’s already Daylight Savings time?” I gasped.
“What? No. In September we will lose an hour and a half of daylight.”
Because of these harsh words, I, me, Millie Noe, now have a hankering to can my garden.
I don’t mean can it, like kick the can down the road.
I don’t mean can it, like doing the Can-Can.
I mean chop it all up. Put it in jars. Seal the lids shut in a double boiler. And stack them in the pantry.
Which is really weird, because I don’t have a garden. I don’t have a pantry. And I don’t can. Read More
I don’t mean to brag, but I was once in a rock and roll band.
Okay, it wasn’t exactly a rock and roll band.
I mean, we didn’t play any instruments.
I guess I should say, that I was once, one half of a duo. My friend Sue and I got to sing before my brother and his buddy Bruce, took the stage.
They had real instruments. Well, I should clarify. My brother had a real guitar and Bruce had a rubber practice drum pad. But his drum sticks were real. Bruce’s parents weren’t willing to invest in all that noise until he proved himself worthy.
But stardom cannot always wait for parents.
And that is why we were there, on a sunny afternoon, congregated in the next door neighbors’ back yard. Read More