Merry Christmas

The Merriest of Christmases to you and yours.

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National Banana Split Day

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I’m eating lunch while searching for an idea for today’s topic: a sandwich and a banana that is past its prime. As I scroll, a yummy photo catches my eye, and so it is, National Banana Split Day. This delicious dessert was invented in 1904 by a pharmacist’s apprentice, David Evans Strickler, at Tassel Pharmacy in LaTrobe, Pennsylvania. In the soda fountain era, many counters shared locations with pharmacies. Banana splits were an immediate hit with the college crowd who eagerly paid 10 cents, double the rate of a regular sundae, for this tasty treat. The split became all the rage in ice cream parlors. The  ideal banana split recipe  includes a banana split in half, topped by 3 scoops of ice cream (vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry), fudge sauce, whipped cream, and chopped nuts; crowned with maraschino cherries. You don’t have to stick with the mundane, tried-and-true presentation: be creative. Change up the bananas by carmelizing them like Bananas Foster; dip them in chocolat...
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I emerge from my convalescence, much as the Earth unfolds from its winter cloak, stretching towards the Sun. I submit some random observances of Spring. Last week a whippoorwill announced his return in evening gloam. The whir of a hummingbird reminds me to retrieve and fill the nectar feeders.  BirdCast Migration tools  will give you an overview of birds on the move over the US continent. You can also hone in on your local area to see what activity to expect. My neglected gardens called out to me today: lavender buried knee-deep in leaves held a hidden surprise. As I approached, the plant shuddered, and autumn leaves crackled. A poke in the pile unearthed an unhappy snake, slithering off, to curl under the dwarf cherry tree, its dark eyes squinting, tongue flickering warning. Nearby, a nuthatch hangs upside down, a cardinal tells me I’m “pretty”, and yellow finches flutter among chickadees, all vying for tasty morsels of suet, seeds, and fruit. A  dove splashes in the bir...
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Today I am thinking about seeds. As a gardener, vegetables begin as simple seeds. As an author, writing ideas begin as kernels and either blossom into successful work or fail to grow into a completed piece. In both instances, one must have the foresight to recognize what is within the seed. Just as a gardener plans her plot, an author sees not only the night sky but a vision beyond. [above poem published on Cold Moon Journal 5/26/23] But for either, the hard work must be done. The gardener tills the soil and plants the seeds, waters, and weeds. An author must be ever alert for inspiration, jot thoughts in an omnipresent pocket notebook, and sit for hours and days on end, writing on paper or inputting line after line in a word processing program. This summer has been incredibly hot and dry. Despite nurture and watering, some plants have failed to thrive, other hardier specimens are prolific producers. Despite buzzing bees, neither my zucchini nor squash have fruited. As an author, I mus...
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