Tonight's another one of those "close encounter" episodes when the moon winds (or 'wends' - your choice) its way close to the mother ship. High tides and 4th of July 'ooohs' and 'aaahs' will be heard around the globe (at least on this side for a few hours). We have such a fascination with all things astronomical, but hardly question or be amazed at how the same dirt chemicals can be transformed into the taste of tomatoes, potatoes or navel oranges. And then, further down the road that same dirt keeps you and me alive and healthy by what we eat.
It's still too cold today to get outside, except for a few minutes of fixing the vacuum cleaner in a frigid garage or taking a few bird photos or looking at the moon with my favorite granddaughter. I've become the proverbial wuss and perfect candidate for all things seniorish. "Where's the nurse?!"
We'll hopefully take Angel to the Serpentine Museum again tomorrow after church, and then maybe visit the Hill House Museum on School Street in Lodi. It's one of those restored turn-of-the-century Victorians with all of the old family's stuff still in it. The father (or some relative) was an artist and designed the east side of the upstairs with lots of windows for extra light while painting. Very authentic. Don't know if an 8-year old can appreciate any of it, except for the kids' bedrooms, but one thing about Angel - she hardly complains about
anything. Unlike her crotchety old grandpa.
Tonight's another one of those "close encounter" episodes when the moon winds (or 'wends' - your choice) its way close to the mother ship. High tides and 4th of July 'ooohs' and 'aaahs' will be heard around the globe (at least on this side for a few hours). We have such a fascination with all things astronomical, but hardly question or be amazed at how the same dirt chemicals can be transformed into the taste of tomatoes, potatoes or navel oranges. And then, further down the road that same dirt keeps you and me alive and healthy by what we eat.
It's still too cold today to get outside, except for a few minutes of fixing the vacuum cleaner in a frigid garage or taking a few bird photos or looking at the moon with my favorite granddaughter. I've become the proverbial wuss and perfect candidate for all things seniorish. "Where's the nurse?!"
We'll hopefully take Angel to the Serpentine Museum again tomorrow after church, and then maybe visit the Hill House Museum on School Street in Lodi. It's one of those restored turn-of-the-century Victorians with all of the old family's stuff still in it. The father (or some relative) was an artist and designed the east side of the upstairs with lots of windows for extra light while painting. Very authentic. Don't know if an 8-year old can appreciate any of it, except for the kids' bedrooms, but one thing about Angel - she hardly complains about anything. Unlike her crotchety old grandpa.
