Tag: blueberries

Sundaz Wandering Thoughts

My wife greeted me from the kitchen as I entered the house.

Then she said, “You’re not going to be happy with me.”

“Why?”

“I used the last of your blueberries.”

Walking in behind her, I said, “What did you say?” As she repeated herself, I held up the pint of blueberries I’d purchased on my way home.

Astonishment lit her face. “How did you know?”

“I was watching you on the house cam.”

Suspicious doubt swept her astonishment away. “The what?”

“It’s a camera installed in a wine bottle. I put it in before we went to Pittsburgh.”

“You did not.”

Laughing and walking away, I replied, “Then how did I know?”

I later caught her peering at a wine bottle. Saying nothing, she gave me a look that was loud with accusations.

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Thirstdaz Wandering Thoughts

I was in the kitchen, looking for a dropped blueberry. “What are you doing?” my wife asked as she came around the corner.

“I lost a blueberry. Do you see a blueberry on the floor?”

“No.” She and I squinted at the hardwood floor together. “You sure you lost i?”

“Pretty sure.” I missed Quinn. Anything hit the floor and black paws was after it fast. Almost everything scared him but he was always willing to approach and sniff before giving things a bat. His ability to spot these things was useful. Papi, on the other hand, has no interest in anything falling on the ground. I once dropped some treats on the floor to see what he would do. He sat and stared at the treat before turning a puzzled expression onto me.

Without Quinn, I could not find the blueberry. Nor could my wife. While I had her, I asked, “Should I change?” We were going to dinner. I was rocking light grey slacks and a white shirt.

Her eyes went nuclear. “Absolutely. Go put on your nice blue shirt.”

She walked off.

I looked down. Something was on the floor. I picked it up. Piece of granola. I remembered dropping it two days ago. I couldn’t find it.

Probably find the blueberry in two more days. I certainly can’t depend on Papi.

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Tuesday’s Wandering Thought

His top ten lists are flexible. Whether it’s books, songs, musical groups, or places, mood and season seem to cause fluctuation. About his only constants is that blueberries keep eking out a win over watermelon as the top front and coffee just beats water as his favorite drink. For the record, beer is consistently third on that list, followed by red wine. Also for the record, water remains at the top of the most needed drink.

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Happy Canada Day to my Canadian friends and the nation north of the U.S. I send them wishes for a joyous celebration and greater success and prosperity.

Today is July 1, 2021. A Thursday. Pale gold burnished the upper reaches of hills, trees, and mountains at 5:38 AM. It’ll fade away into night at 8:51 PM. Sunshine will deliver us to some mild heat — the low nineties — today. Smoke comes and goes to the valley from the Lava Fire by Weed, California. If you want to see the fire, head to Mount Ashland, just outside town, which offers a panoramic view of the smoke. Flames are visible at night.

The deepening drought delivered another depressing blow. Water limitations and drought meant the blueberries didn’t come in at our favorite u-pick-em site. We’d been doing this for over a decade. It’s one of our Ashland traditions. The blueberry owners are trying to keep the place alive and hope to see us all next year.

Also canceled for the second year is the July 4th Parade. COVID concerns, yes. Planning needed to start months ago and where we’d be now was too uncertain to plan. The fireworks are canceled. I’ve become ambivalent about fireworks. Loved ’em as a child. Now I understand what they do to the land and animals. Sadly, this year, the drought is too intense to risk fireworks. Locals are still reeling from Ashland’s near miss last September. Yeah, near miss, not quite. Two thousand homes were destroyed on the north edge of town. Talent and Phoenix were reduced to smoky piles of rock and wood in many areas, gutting the towns physically and emotionally. With those emotional scars still vivid, many are relieved that the fireworks won’t take place.

Without too much surprise, I bet, I introduce a song about summer, called “Summer”. By War, it was released in 1976. Some may claim that 1976 was a simpler time. It may’ve been for many. For others, it was a time like the rest, working to feed yourself, working to beat the heat, playing to relieve the stress, doing what you can as you face an uncertain future. Who sang, “The future’s uncertain and the end is always near”? That’s right, Jim and the lads, back in another century. I used to sing, “The future’s uncertain and the end is always clear.” Made me sense to me

Anyway, here’s “Summer”, a mellow reflection on the hot season. Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get the vax. Cheers

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Blueberry Hunter

Quinn was a compact cat. His silky fur and bushy tail made him look larger than he was and often drew compliments. I was partial to his sharp, jade eyes. His nickname was black paws for the dark fur that covered them.

He passed away almost a year ago, succumbing to cancer. With us for about twelve years, he was a refugee from another house on the street. He’d come in during a cold and windy night when I was out calling my felines. We fed him and put him up. I put out posters. He was identified, and his people came and got him, but he kept coming back to ours until the people gave up and moved away without him. I’m flattered that he chose us.

A strong-willed feline, he prompted me to write about him numerous times. My favorite was just called “Quinn”, which I posted just over four years ago.

Life’s a rush,

When you’re Quinn.

If he’s out,

He wants in.

If he’s in,

He wants out.

And to find a way,

He’ll rush about.

He was also my inspiration for one of my favorite posts, “The Catfood”, from a few years ago. He was always a picky eater, forcing me to procure new offerings. Hence I found myself in a Walmart store contemplating chicken and waffle cat food.

I’m thinking about him today with fondness. My wife is harvesting the last of her cherry tomatoes. Plucking them from the vine, she sets them in bowls in the kitchen to ripen.

Today, she’s talking about using some of the ripe ones in an arugula-pasta-cherry tomato salad. One of our favorite dishes, it’s healthy and easy to make. Sorting tomatoes that could be use, she dropped a green one onto the floor where it disappeared from our sight.

That’s where Quinn would’ve come in. He was terrific at finding things on the floor, and then batting them around. Most frequently, blueberries were involved. We’ve picked blueberries almost every year since we’ve lived here. After picking, we set some aside for immediate use, and then freeze the rest. Freezing them meant spreading them on trays and then placing the tray in the freezer. Once they’re frozen on the tray, they’re transferred to plastic storage containers. We’d need to do that multiple times. Inevitably, blueberries would hit the floor.

Quinn would immediately rush to them and sniff the dropped berry. From the look that jumped into his face, he hated their smell. So offensive was it to him, he’d immediately start angrily whacking the blueberry around until a human interceded and took it away.

Such a fun sweetheart, he was also a bit of a slut. More than once, I saw people passing by notice him and say something. He’d hurry up to them for love and attention.

But he always returned to us, and slept snuggled up against me. I could’ve used him during this week, when tension from the combination of pandemic life and presidential elections is higher than the moon. Besides, he would find that cherry tomato that was dropped.

As it is now, we probably won’t find it until one of us steps on it or we move away.

6

Sunday’s Theme Music

Was walking and streaming to myself (of course, but who else could I be streaming to?), “No more speed, I’m almost there. Gotta keep cool now, gotta take care. Last car to pass, here I gooo. And the line of cars go down real slow, whoa. Radio’s playing that forgotten song. Brenda Lee’s coming on strong. And the newsman sang his theme song.”

Yes, it’s Golden Earring’s 1973 hit, “Radar Love”, at least how I remember it. I was pushing myself to get to nine miles for the day and reflecting on it all. Blueberry pickin’ at 6:30, the writing day at 9:30 (with forlorn results), drinks with a friend at three, then the final walking to reach nine miles. Mixed bag, you know?

The blueberries weren’t as fine and ripe this year. We came home with an ounce over eight pounds, which cost us $18.25. Long drop from those heady days of eighteen pounds for $36.

Meeting with FX was fun. He’s an established actor, most recently seen as a judge in On the Basis of Sex. After talking life and politics for a bit, we shifted to books and writing, and then movies we’d not like to seen remade, like Doctor Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb. I also don’t want to see The African Queen remade, Twelve Angry Men, or Bridge On the River Kwai. I don’t think they can touch the Godfather series, but who knows what lurks in the minds of Hollywood producers?

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