On Grief and Grieving - September 2026

September 1, 2026

A Quiet Start, a Successful Pumpkin Roll, and a Few Unexpected Visits

I started the first morning of September considerably later than usual. After falling asleep in the recliner around 8:00 last night, waking close to midnight, doing some blog work, transferring laundry from the washer to the dryer, folding another load, and then watching television until around 3:00 AM while drifting in and out of sleep, I finally made it to bed. Even though I woke several times afterward, I managed to fall back asleep fairly quickly and didn’t get out of bed until around 7:30.

After pouring my first cup of coffee, turning on some smooth jazz, and doing my usual range of motion exercises, I made my way out onto the deck. At 7:54 AM it was already 72°F with 93% humidity and a southwest breeze around 7 mph. There was only a slight bit of moisture on the deck furnishings, nothing that required more than a few paper towels.

By 8:14 I had settled into my usual seat at the outdoor table and quickly realized something was strangely different. The neighborhood was remarkably quiet. It finally dawned on me that because I had slept later than usual, I had completely missed most of the morning school-bus, truck, and automobile traffic. The only sounds surrounding me were the smooth jazz drifting out from the kitchen and the birds conversing in the trees. The breeze was refreshing, and the whole morning felt unusually serene.

While sitting there, my thoughts drifted toward the garden and an idea I have entertained for years. After looking through the year-round gardening book Fran’s cousin Justin sent me yesterday, I once again began thinking about constructing some type of dome over the former swimming pool that now serves as my garden. Over the years, I’ve imagined attaching elbows to the existing pool supports, running PVC pipe upward toward a central ring, and covering the resulting igloo-like framework with heavy plastic. In theory, it seems entirely doable. In reality, I had to admit that I’m not sure I still have the energy, strength, or stamina to take on a project of that size. Even if I completed it, I’d then have the responsibility of trekking down to the garden throughout winter to maintain everything, which is not particularly appealing considering how much I dislike cold weather. For now, the greenhouse dome may remain one of those projects that is almost as enjoyable to design mentally as it would be to build.

Before long, another fall related idea took over. I still had an abundance of ermine frosting left from making lady locks, and discarding it seemed almost sinful, so I decided to put it to good use by making a gluten-free pumpkin roll.

The cake came together remarkably easily. I mixed the eggs and sugar,

added the pumpkin and spices,

combined the gluten-free flour and dry ingredients,

spread the batter onto a prepared sheet pan, and baked it until evenly set.

Once it came out of the oven,

I turned it onto a powdered-sugar-dusted towel

Once turned out onto the towel I removed the parchment paper it initiakky baked on.

With parchmentpaper removedI proceeded to layer on the filling.

When the filling reached my point of satisfaction I sprinked it with a bit of Pumpkin spice sugar.

and rolled it while still warm.

That was the stage I had been most concerned about, but everything went smoothly.

Around 11:13 AM, while the rolled cake cooled on the kitchen counter, I returned to the deck to continue my morning watch. By then the weather had become quite warm, although a noticeable breeze still made being outdoors comfortable for a while. As noon approached, the temperature had climbed to around 83°F with a feels-like temperature near 87°F. Even beneath the umbrella, the sunshine eventually became a little too much, so I temporarily surrendered the deck and headed indoors.

At 1:17 PM I prepared a simple lunch of a couple of Ball Park franks with a generous amount of Castleberry hot dog sauce, some chips for crunch, and a Coke.

I took everything out to the shaded deck table and enjoyed lunch while waiting for the cake and frosting to reach the proper temperatures.

Eventually, the moment of truth arrived. I checked on the finished pumpkin roll that was chilling in the refirgerator and much to my delight, it came out beautifully. The cake held together, the filling stayed where it belonged, and the spiral looked exactly the way a pumpkin roll is supposed to look. I sprinkled some coarse sugar over the top and, naturally, performed a little quality-control testing by cutting off one end.

In my opinion, the result was definitely a keeper.

The afternoon then took an unexpected social turn. Around 2:30 PM, my friend Bob from Greensburg called to see if I was home and asked if he could stop by for a while. I had no objection whatsoever. When he arrived, we poured a couple glasses of iced tea and headed out to the deck. Fortunately, by that time the deck was completely shaded, and a pleasant breeze was blowing through. We sat and shot the other type of breeze for nearly two hours.

When Bob finally prepared to leave around 4:30, I told him he wasn’t going anywhere quite yet because I had a few things to package up for him and his wife. I sliced off a couple generous pieces of pumpkin roll and added some pasta with garden tomatoes, garlic and basil, a couple pieces of sausage and peppers, and what remained of some corn chowder I had pulled from the freezer earlier. Bob left with considerably more than he arrived with.

Shortly afterward, I called my son-in-law and asked him to stop by on his way home from work because I had something I knew he was going to enjoy, the gluten-free pumpkin roll. He said he would stop, so I sliced and packaged some of the cake along with a few other things and waited for him to arrive.

At 4:44 PM, however, I received a text telling me he had forgotten to stop and would try to remember tomorrow. I have to admit that was disappointing. I had everything ready and had been sitting there waiting specifically because I wanted to give him something I thought he would enjoy. Nevertheless, everything was packaged back up and returned to the refrigerator for another day.

Later in the evening, after spending some time in the recliner, I finally convinced myself to get up because tomorrow is trash pickup day. I took the trash outside and, while I was already out there, decided to water all of the flowers around the front and side of the house.

While I was doing that, Cathy and Nick drove by and stopped to talk. They live only about a block away and have been close family friends for about as long as I’ve known Fran and her family. Cathy and my sister-in-law Linda had been best friends since grade school. Even though they live so close, I rarely see them anymore, probably because they are a little older than I am and, as I’m increasingly learning myself, getting out and doing things that once came easily simply isn’t always so easy anymore. We ended up talking for more than 20 minutes, and it turned into one more unexpected but pleasant connection on an already rather eventful day.

So the first day of September began quietly, almost eerily so, with extra sleep, coffee, smooth jazz, birds, and a peaceful deck. It wandered through thoughts of greenhouses and year round gardening, turned into a surprisingly successful gluten free pumpkin roll experiment, included an enjoyable visit from Bob, a slightly disappointing missed pickup from my son-in-law, and ended with trash duty, flower watering, and an unexpected roadside conversation with two very old family friends.

All in all, not a bad way to welcome September.

September 2, 2026

From Morning Watch to Evening Shade

I began the day with my usual morning watch, spending some time outdoors taking in the weather, the changing light, and the activity around the backyard.

As the morning progressed, the temperature began climbing fairly quickly, making it obvious that this was going to become another rather warm late-summer day.

The backyard wildlife provided some entertainment before I got seriously involved with anything else. A cardinal made an appearance on the garden camera,

and beneath the oak tree at the back of the property several squirrels were carrying on enough that I started referring to the whole affair as “the squirrel circus underneath the oak tree.” 

I managed to get several photographs of them, including one squirrel that actually stayed still long enough to give me a reasonably good portrait.

Eventually I made my way down into the garden, where I spent roughly two hours giving everything a good through soaking, harvesting whatever was ready, cleaning up plants that had pretty much reached the end of their productive lives, and doing a little weeding.

By the time I finished, the comfortable conditions from earlier in the morning were long gone. At around 11:09 AM it was already 83°F with humidity at 73% and a southwest breeze of about 6 mph.

I had collected, among other things, tomatoes and beans and decided I had probably accomplished enough outdoors for one morning.

Once I came back inside, I was looking for a quicker way to cool down and remembered the bottle of strawberry syrup I had recently purchased. A few weeks ago, while getting lunch with my niece Stacey, I had been tempted by an advertisement for strawberry lemonade at a fast-food restaurant. Stacey and I both thought it was very good, although the two relatively small lemonades ended up costing more than the sandwiches and french fries I had gone there to buy.

At the time I remember thinking there couldn't be all that much mystery involved, start with a decent lemonade and add some strawberry flavoring. This morning I finally tested that theory by adding some of the strawberry syrup to lemonade over ice. As best as I could remember, the result was almost an exact match.

Better yet, a half gallon of lemonade and a 16-ounce bottle of strawberry syrup should produce quite a number of glasses for considerably less than buying them one at a time. I also have the advantage of being able to adjust the strawberry or lemon flavor any way I happen to want it.

As the afternoon heat continued to build, sitting outdoors became considerably less attractive.

In an attempt to beat the heat, I headed downstairs into the family room/office intending to begin working on photographs from my sister-in-law's nephew's wedding that she had asked me to prepare. Before getting into the photographs, however, I decided it might be worthwhile to clean up both computers and hopefully get them running a little more efficiently. I started the cleanup processes and returned upstairs to the living room recliner while the computers did their housekeeping.

The recliner apparently did what the recliner has a habit of doing. I spent some time watching the news and resting my eyes, and at about 6:02 PM there was a knock at the door. It was my son-in-law, which was particularly amusing because only moments earlier I had been thinking that apparently he had forgotten once again to stop and pick up the pumpkin roll.

Fortunately, he hadn't forgotten after all. I asked whether he was just getting out of school and, when he said he was, I commented that it had certainly been a long day. In his typically practical fashion, he said he was hoping that putting in a few extra hours early in the school year might make things go a little more smoothly later.

Naturally, there also had to be a little quality, control work before the pumpkin roll left the house. I had him taste it, and judging from his reaction there wasn't much question that it passed inspection. I had already cut three slices for him to take home, one for himself, one for my daughter, and one for my grandson.

By then the weather had undergone a pretty remarkable transformation. Earlier it had been downright oppressive, but once the sun moved around to the opposite side of the house the deck fell completely into shade. Even though the temperature was still 87°F, the humidity had dropped to 67% and there was a noticeable southwest breeze at about 7 mph. The difference was substantial, and suddenly being back outdoors was quite comfortable.

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The late day light across the yard made everything look particularly inviting.

The lawn and trees were still brightly illuminated beyond the shaded deck, long shadows stretched across the property, and the bowl of freshly harvested tomatoes and beans sitting nearby provided a pretty fitting reminder of how the day had begun.

It felt as though the worst of the day's heat was finally surrendering.

Unfortunately, there was still unfinished business downstairs. The whole reason I had gone into the family room/office earlier was to work on those wedding photographs, and although the computers had been given their cleanup time, the photographs themselves were still waiting for me. Sitting on the now comfortable deck made it very difficult to convince myself to leave, but I knew that eventually I was going to have to return downstairs and get back to the project.

All things considered, today had a little bit of everything: a quiet morning watch, garden work and harvesting, cardinals and a squirrel circus, oppressive afternoon heat, an unexpectedly successful homemade strawberry lemonade experiment, computer housekeeping, wedding photographs waiting for attention, a successful pumpkin-roll handoff, and finally a much more pleasant late-summer evening on the deck.

Not a particularly dramatic day perhaps, but certainly one filled with enough small happenings to remind me that sometimes an ordinary day can provide plenty worth remembering.

September 3, 2026

A Day of Weather, Memories, Family Errands, and One Wild Evening

I began the morning feeling anything but refreshed. I had awakened several times during the night before finally getting out of bed shortly before 7:00 AM. Fortunately, the weather provided a little encouragement. It was about 74 degrees with very high humidity, but a gentle southeast breeze made the air feel comfortable. The sunrise was understated but beautiful, with soft pastel colors appearing along the horizon.

One thing that immediately puzzled me was the fact that the deck and everything on it were completely dry. With humidity hovering around 90 percent, I fully expected the squeegee team to be called into service, but apparently they had earned themselves an unexpected morning off.

The forecast at that point was calling for mostly cloudy skies, followed by a mixture of sun and clouds later in the morning, with temperatures eventually reaching the upper 80s. There was also a rather unwelcome 70 percent chance of showers. I was hoping Mother Nature would have the courtesy to postpone those until later in the evening when deck time was no longer an option.

I had already made plans to take my daughter to a local hospital for some testing later in the morning so that my son-in-law wouldn’t have to take a day off from work. I told her I would pick her up around 9:45, and depending upon how long everything took, we might go out for a late breakfast or early lunch afterward.

There also happened to be an Italian market nearby, and I had already decided that a stop there would probably be in order. I seem to be developing a serious weakness for Italian marketplaces.

Shortly after 7:00, my friend Neal passed by on his way to work at the middle school behind my house. We talked for a few minutes before he continued on his way.

Seeing him heading off to school brought back quite a few memories of my own teaching days in public and technical schools.

In particular, I found myself thinking about a very dear friend who taught residential and commercial electrical construction in the classroom and shop next to mine. He passed away a few years ago, although it hardly seems possible that much time has passed. He and his wife became very close friends, and over the years we even vacationed together.

He was quite a character and possessed a sense of humor very similar to my own. I still remember the two of us standing in the hallway in the mornings as students arrived, which was required of the staff. Especially early in the school year, he would occasionally observe some of the more questionably dressed students coming down the hallway and make one of his trademark comments.

Those little moments are still vivid in my mind.

More importantly, he was almost like a father to me in many ways. He was constantly reminding me to save money, invest, and prepare for the possibility that retirement would eventually arrive whether I was ready for it or not. Looking back today, I realize how much influence his advice had on the financial position I eventually reached in retirement. His friendship left a much greater mark on my life than simply being the fellow who worked in the shop next door.

While I sat on the deck enjoying the cool breeze and trying to ignore the constant stream of school buses, cars, and construction equipment passing on the road above the house,

another sound suddenly caught my attention. I could distinctly hear a freight train traveling through Irwin, perhaps two or three miles away. The whistle sounded almost as though the train were only a few hundred feet from the house. Atmospheric conditions must have been carrying the sound unusually well. Interestingly enough, that distant train whistle seemed to add something almost peaceful to the morning, unlike the constant road traffic I was trying so hard to tune out.

The morning school rush eventually began to wind down, but not before I took several photographs showing just how ridiculous the traffic can become. At times there were school buses practically nose-to-tail, mixed in with cars and trucks, directly above the deck. Once the parade finally began to thin out, the entire neighborhood immediately felt different.

By about 7:54 AM, the sky had also started changing. Clouds were beginning to thicken considerably, although the morning was still quite pleasant. Less than twenty minutes later, however, everything changed dramatically.

Around 8:12, what had been a calm and peaceful morning suddenly became dark, threatening, windy, and wet.

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The sky developed an ominous appearance almost within seconds, bringing my morning watch at the deck table to a rather abrupt halt.

Later in the morning, I picked up my daughter and took her for the testing she needed to have done. Afterward, we stopped at the Italian market I had mentioned earlier. I had originally thought we might go out for breakfast or lunch, but by the time we finished at the hospital and then wandered through the market, I had already managed to spend more than I had planned for the day. Much of that was the result of my daughter putting things into the cart, although I certainly didn’t mind. In retrospect, taking her out to lunch probably would have been cheaper.

Among the things I picked up was a package of frozen shucked mussels. Mussels are something I don’t have very often, but I almost always enjoy them when I order them in a restaurant. I immediately started thinking about incorporating them into another batch of my fresh tomato, garlic, and basil sauce sometime this week.

I also started considering another preparation involving butter, garlic, and perhaps some white wine. I happen to have a package of baby Bella mushrooms in the refrigerator, and the thought occurred to me that sliced mushrooms sautéed first and then combined with the mussels in a garlic-butter sauce could make for a very interesting dinner.

And, with a bit of satisfaction, I realized that I had already thought one step ahead, I had also purchased a freshly baked loaf of crusty Italian bread while I was at the market. If I do make the garlic-butter version, there should be plenty of sauce left in the bottom of the bowl for bread dipping, which may very well end up being half the attraction.

By the afternoon, the weather had completed another remarkable turnaround. Around 4:12 PM, it was about 82 degrees with the humidity down to roughly 62 percent and a southwest breeze around 9 mph.

The breeze felt absolutely wonderful and occasionally gusted considerably higher. When that happened, I found myself keeping one eye on the deck umbrella, half expecting it to begin another one of its Mary Poppins routines.

brother- and sister-in-law stopped by during the afternoon to pick up the photographs my sister-in-law had asked me to edit and print from her nephew’s wedding a couple of months ago. They left shortly afterward, leaving me once again sitting comfortably on the deck enjoying what had become an absolutely beautiful afternoon.

Unfortunately, Mother Nature was nowhere near finished.

I apparently fell asleep in the recliner sometime around 5:00 PM and woke around 6:00 to the sound of thunder and flashes of lightning seemingly everywhere outdoors. The sky grew darker by the minute and the winds increased dramatically.

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Although our immediate location fortunately did not take the worst of the storm, it was still quite substantial. Reports from the region indicated extremely strong straight-line winds, widespread damage, and enormous numbers of power outages throughout Allegheny and Westmoreland counties. At one point, more than 100,000 customers in the region were reportedly without power.

Our own electrical service repeatedly flickered off and back on. Although I have a whole-house generator, the outage has to remain continuous for a brief period before the generator starts, so the repeated short interruptions never lasted quite long enough to trigger it.

By around 7:30 PM, the most intense portion of the storm had moved east toward the Ligonier, Laurel Mountain, and Somerset County areas, where there were also reports of tornado activity. Additional storms were still approaching from Ohio, reportedly not quite as intense as the first round but still capable of producing damaging winds.

Flash-flood warnings began appearing on my phone as the evening continued, adding one more concern to an already rather remarkable weather day.

It occurred to me that I might not even want to close my eyes tonight for fear of another storm sneaking up while I was asleep. Still, the chances of remaining awake all night accomplishing anything useful are probably rather slim.

Looking back over the course of the day, it is difficult to believe all of this happened within the same twenty-four hours. I began the morning watching a gentle pastel sunrise on a completely dry deck, spent part of the morning reminiscing about old friends and teaching days, took my daughter for testing and made a successful raid on an Italian market, enjoyed a beautiful sunny and breezy afternoon on the deck, and finished the evening watching severe thunderstorms, power disruptions, flash-flood warnings, and widespread storm damage unfold across western Pennsylvania.

It certainly wasn't a dull Thursday.

Today 9:32 PM

Severe Weather Watch

Weather update: There is still a meaningful threat tonight, primarily from flash flooding rather than a new tornado threat at the moment.

The National Weather Service in Pittsburgh has extended Flash Flood Warnings across portions of southwestern Pennsylvania. One warning includes southeastern Allegheny and western Westmoreland counties, with Irwin, Greensburg, Jeannette, Murrysville, Manor, Trafford, Youngwood and New Stanton among the communities specifically listed. Radar estimates indicate substantial rainfall has already occurred, with additional heavy rain possible.

The earlier severe storms have also produced widespread damage and outages; reports around 9 PM put the regional outage total above 120,000 customers.

For tonight, I will remain indoors and avoid driving unless necessary, especially anywhere water is covering a roadway. The National Weather Service warning specifically emphasizes that nighttime flooding is difficult to recognize and that flooded roads should never be crossed.

I’m not seeing evidence in the latest information of a new tornado warning aimed specifically in my immediate area, which is encouraging. The flooding threat, however, remains significant enough that I certainly hope to be alerted rather than let it pass by unannounced.

September 4, 2026

From Calm After the Storm to Another Round with the Hornets

I began my morning watch a little before 7:40 this morning, and the contrast between yesterday and today could hardly have been greater. After one hell of a storm yesterday, this morning arrived remarkably calm. Before I could settle into my normal spot on the deck, however, the squeegee team had to be awakened and put to work. The deck and furnishings were covered with water along with leaves and debris that had been stripped from the surrounding trees during the storm.

Once everything was reasonably cleaned up, I could finally sit down with my coffee and take in a landscape that looked as though Mother Nature had given the entire place a thorough washing overnight. The temperature was around 68°F, humidity was extremely high, and there was barely enough southwest breeze to mention.

By about 7:50, the old hay maker had begun making its presence known, and shortly thereafter the morning entertainment arrived in the form of the neighborhood squirrels.

At least five of them seemed to be working the area around the large oak tree, undoubtedly taking advantage of the abundance of acorns that yesterday’s winds had shaken loose. Watching them race around the tree and across the lawn while I sat drinking my coffee provided more than a few chuckles. From their perspective, yesterday’s storm apparently amounted to winning the lottery, their breakfast had quite literally been scattered all over the ground for them.

As the sun continued climbing, the entire character of the morning began changing. By about 8:36, sunlight was striking the still wet flowers and ornamental grasses around the deck, and the combination of moisture and direct light seemed to increase the saturation of every color tenfold.

Water droplets sparkled on the petals and leaves while the railing cast sharp shadows across the deck.

It was one of those times when nature seemed to be doing with light exactly what I might otherwise try to accomplish with a camera or photo-editing program.

Only a few minutes later, around 8:53, it was becoming quite apparent that the temperature was climbing rapidly. The overall air was still comfortable, but the warmth of the sun on exposed skin was becoming very noticeable. The basil plant at the corner of the deck seemed to be enjoying the sunshine even more than I was.

With yesterday’s rain providing plenty of moisture and this morning’s sunlight streaming through the leaves, the entire little basil corner looked particularly healthy.

At around 10:00, I eventually made my way down to the garden. I spent roughly a couple of hours doing some weeding and tending to things that needed attention. I also cut several branches of basil from several plants to add to the tomatoes I had previously blanched. Considering how quickly the morning was warming, getting that work accomplished relatively early turned out to be a pretty good idea.

By shortly before noon, however, the atmosphere began changing again. Fairly dense cloud cover started moving in rapidly, and before long I began feeling a few raindrops. That was enough encouragement for me to gather everything from the porch table, put down or secure what needed protecting, store the cushions, and make my way indoors.

Once inside, I prepared myself some lunch while the electrical power began flickering on and off numerous times over a matter of minutes. It never remained off long enough for the whole-house generator to kick in, but apparently the disturbance was significant enough that I began receiving messages from my Internet and cable provider saying service interruptions would be repaired as quickly as possible. Oddly enough, everything inside the house continued functioning, leaving me wondering why I was receiving the notices in the first place.

Sometime shortly after lunch, I made what in retrospect may have been one of the wiser decisions of the day: I made my way to the living room recliner.

Apparently I needed the rest more than I realized because I didn’t awaken until approximately 4:30.

When I did wake up, there was evidence that the power had gone completely out sometime around 2:00 or 2:30 because several clocks needed to be reset. Once that was taken care of, I headed back outside. The sun had already done a remarkably thorough job of drying the deck, so Middle T and I only had to remove the remaining surface water.

Then my attention turned once again to an ongoing backyard adversary, the underground hornet nest near the garden.

Despite the treatments I’ve already given it, I had continued seeing quite a bit of activity around one of the entrances. I recently purchased another couple of cans of hornet spray, so I decided this afternoon was as good a time as any to give them another go.

Standing approximately 20 feet away, I directed the stream into one of the holes and continued spraying while a multitude of the insects hovered around the nest. I emptied the entire first can into that entrance and, still seeing activity afterward, emptied approximately half of the second can into the same hole. There is another entrance nearby that I didn’t even approach today, so I may end up picking up another couple of cans and dealing with that one over the weekend.

The strange part of the entire situation is that these things really haven’t bothered me. I’ve walked directly past the nest any number of times, and they seemingly couldn’t care less about my presence. Nevertheless, somewhere in the back of my mind I can’t shake the feeling that they’re down there plotting and simply waiting for the appropriate moment to launch their counteroffensive.

Whether or not there are tiny underground strategy meetings taking place, I’d still prefer to nip the situation in the bud before they decide that I’ve officially overstayed my welcome.

By early evening, the weather had once again undergone a remarkable transformation. The threatening clouds and rain were gone, the sky had returned to a brilliant blue, and the freshly watered landscape was an almost unbelievable shade of green.

Long shadows were stretching across the yard as the late-afternoon sun worked its way toward the western horizon, leaving the garden sitting down below almost as though it were occupying its own little amphitheater.

Looking back over the day, it was another one of those September days that managed to contain a little bit of everything, cleanup from yesterday’s storm, squirrels celebrating an unexpected acorn bonanza, beautiful morning sunlight, garden work, rapidly changing weather, electrical interruptions, an unexpectedly substantial meeting with the recliner, and yet another round in my ongoing battle with the underground residents near the garden.

Not necessarily the day I would have planned when I first sat down with my morning coffee, but then again, those are often the days that give me the most to write about.

September 5, 2026

A Day of Changing Light, Wildlife, Garden Work and a Few Battles

I was up and outside unusually early this morning. At about 5:55 AM, Saturday began under less than promising weather expectations. The temperature was around 70°, humidity was a rather opressive 94%, and rain was predicted for later in the morning. Despite all that moisture in the air, the deck itself was surprisingly dry, requiring little more than a few paper towels rather than a full deployment of the squeegee team.

Before sunrise I photographed the crescent moon showing through the clouds.

What struck me afterward was how dramatically different the photograph looked from what my eyes were actually seeing. The iPhone had managed to turn what was still an almost midnight dark scene into something that appeared considerably brighter and bluer.

By about 6:31 AM the first visible morning light had begun to make its debut. Nothing spectacular at first, but that changed quickly. During the next 15 or 20 minutes, the eastern horizon seemed to reinvent itself repeatedly. I found myself going in and out of the house several times while looking at and lightly editing photographs, and each time I returned to the deck the sky appeared completely different.

Then, while I was back inside, Herb Alpert's “I'll Remember You” began playing. Almost instantly, my attention shifted away from photographing the sunrise and toward Fran. I found myself thinking how much she would have enjoyed seeing what I had just witnessed. Ideas and observations that had occupied my mind only moments earlier, including thoughts about perhaps putting together some type of student project, with this years students at my former vocational school, and watching the nighttime sky transform into daylight, were suddenly pushed aside by considerably more emotional memories.

Morning Wildlife and Errands

The wildlife provided its usual share of entertainment as the morning continued. Two turkeys across the field became particularly bold, wandering out toward the road, changing their minds, and eventually marching right up the roadway toward another neighbor's property.

A couple of squirrels were equally entertaining as they performed what amounted to acrobatics in the oak tree. Unfortunately, they were moving far too quickly and were too well camouflaged among the leaves for me to capture much of their performance photographically, although I did manage to get a picture of one as it crossed the road.

Around 9:00 AM I headed out to a local home improvement center, primarily to replenish my ammunition for the seemingly never ending war with the ground dwelling stinging insects near the garden. This time I purchased spray specifically labeled for yellow jackets, since the instructions indicated that yellow jackets commonly establish nests underground. Considering that I had two very active holes in the ground and everything else I had tried had failed to eliminate them, I figured it was worth a shot.

Before entering the store I stopped to talk with the local farmer who has been selling fresh produce from the back of his pickup truck there throughout the summer. I asked how much longer he intended to continue selling and he smiled and said, essentially, for as long as he could still get out of bed.

Our conversation eventually turned to garlic. I told him that I had attempted to grow garlic several times without much success and asked whether there was some secret to it. His instructions were wonderfully uncomplicated: break the bulb apart, put the individual cloves in the ground, and walk away.

That sounded suspiciously similar to what I had already done.

The difference, apparently, may be timing. When I asked when he plants his garlic, his answer was October. I had never tried planting it that late, so I bought a couple of bulbs from him, along with a dozen ears of sweet corn. Maybe this October experiment will finally produce something. Maybe it won't. Either way, I'm certainly going to give it another try.

The aftermath of the severe weather from a couple of days ago was still very evident during my errands. Several businesses I had intended to visit remained closed because of power outages, and even a gas station I pulled into was without power. What began as a potential shopping trip therefore became considerably shorter than anticipated.

Family, the Garden and Tomorrow's Gathering

After returning home I spoke with my daughter, who told me that her in-laws were having a weekend get-together and that I had been invited. Since I was seriously considering going, my next thought was naturally that I couldn't arrive empty handed.

Before starting anything in the kitchen, I headed toward the garden. On the way I stopped to check the two insect entrances. Unfortunately, they were still operating like a busy international airport on a holiday weekend.

I harvested a good assortment of peppers of different sizes and varieties, deposited some kitchen scraps into the compost bin, turned the pile a little, and then headed back toward the house.

My daughter and son-in-law had also brought over a large recycling crate filled with plants that Justin had left for me.

The idea is that some of them may help attract butterflies to the garden and perhaps closer to the porch and deck. I'm anxious to see what they do, although I'll probably have to check with Justin about whether any of them require special treatment to survive the winter.

I began considering what I might prepare to take to tomorrow's gathering. A batch of my roasted peppers seemed certain, and I briefly contemplated making Italian pasta and seafood salad as well. Dessert even crossed my mind, although by that point I wasn't sure the body was going to cooperate with all of the ambitions the brain kept producing.

An Afternoon That Became More Personal

Some of today's plans were also interrupted by conversations and concerns that were considerably more important than anything on my original agenda.

I spent a lengthy period talking with Frank, about an hour and a half, and the conversation carried additional weight because of the loss of his wife. I was also thinking about my niece Stacey being alone at her moms house while the power problems continued. Being without electricity is inconvenient under ordinary circumstances, but being alone in Linda's house so soon after losing her makes it something altogether different. I invited Stacey to come over for dinner and made it clear that she could stay here if she didn't want to remain there by herself.

Those conversations added another dimension to a day that had already begun rather emotionally with the sunrise and memories of Fran.

The Great Pepper Seed Adventure

By shortly after 5:00 PM, I finally made it back onto the deck, and the weather had turned out to be absolutely beautiful. It was about 77°, humidity had fallen to 67%, and a wonderfully cool north breeze was moving through at around 6 mph.

After the questionable forecast with which the morning began, sitting outside under those conditions felt almost heavenly.

Unfortunately, my hands were not enjoying the afternoon nearly as much as the rest of me.

I had spent several hours slicing peppers from the garden and carefully separating and labeling the seeds from the various varieties for next year's crop. Normally I would wear gloves while handling hotter peppers, but I decided against them because I wanted the dexterity to separate the seeds.

That decision eventually came back to haunt me.

By late afternoon my hands felt as though they were on fire despite repeated washing. I was particularly careful not to touch my eyes, having learned that particular lesson in years past and having absolutely no interest in repeating it.

What puzzled me was that none of the peppers had seemed extraordinarily hot when I tasted them. Some had a respectable amount of heat, but nothing that had me scrambling for a glass of milk. Apparently the problem wasn't so much the heat level of any individual pepper as the hours of accumulated contact with the capsaicin containing membranes while separating all those seeds.

Vegetable oil followed by Dawn dishwashing liquid eventually made a noticeable difference, although some residual burning remained, particularly between my fingers. Next year's seed saving operation will definitely require a better system, probably thin gloves and perhaps tweezers or another small tool to keep my fingers away from the inside of the peppers as much as possible.

Roasted Peppers and the Evening Campaign

The peppers themselves were destined for considerably better things.

I combined the sliced peppers with onions and mushrooms in a large casserole dish and started them roasting at 350°. Normally I would have included tomatoes from the beginning, but I apparently became a little too enthusiastic with the peppers, onions and mushrooms and completely filled the dish before the tomatoes ever entered the equation.

Knowing the vegetables would cook down substantially, I decided to let them roast first and then add some of the garden tomato mixture I had previously prepared with basil, garlic, olive oil and Italian seasoning.

At around 7:00 PM, however, there was still one piece of unfinished business outdoors.

Armed with the yellow jacket spray I purchased earlier, I made my way back down to the two entrances near the garden and gave both colonies, or perhaps two entrances to the same colony, a substantial dousing.

There was quite a bit of activity immediately afterward. From what I could see, considerably more yellow jackets appeared to be trying to get into the holes than were coming out, probably workers returning to the nest. Those that did emerge appeared somewhat dazed and confused.

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I stayed in the general area for about 20 minutes, at a reasonable distance, watching what happened. As time passed, the amount of activity seemed to diminish noticeably. Whether I've finally won the battle remains to be seen, but this particular treatment certainly appeared to have more immediate effect than some of my earlier efforts.

Dinner and the End of the Day

After completing my latest assault on the yellow jackets, I returned to the considerably safer environment of the kitchen.

By then the roasted peppers, mushrooms and onions had cooked down enough for me to add the tomato, basil, garlic and olive-oil mixture.

I returned the whole thing to the oven to continue roasting for perhaps another hour or longer and let all those flavors work themselves together.

Once those chores were finally behind me, I prepared yet another dinner from leftovers.

They may have been leftovers, but they certainly did the trick.

I eventually carried my plate outside and ate on the deck

as the remaining daylight faded,

a rather peaceful ending to a day that had included a moonlit beginning, an unexpectedly beautiful sunrise, memories of Fran, wildlife antics, conversations with family and friends, gardening, pepper, induced burning hands, cooking, and yet another round in my continuing battle with the yellow jackets.

Quite a lot, in retrospect, for a Saturday that began under a weather forecast that didn't look terribly promising at all.

September 6, 2026

Reflections

I began the morning shortly after 6:00 with coffee on the deck, looking out at a cooler September sky with the moon still visible just above the horizon.

There was a little dew on the deck and furniture, but nothing requiring more than a few paper towels. My main question at that hour was whether I should prepare something in addition to the roasted peppers I had already planned to take to my son-in-law’s parents’ gathering around noon.

The night before had ended in typical fashion. I had fallen asleep in the recliner around 10:00, woke again around 11:30, and briefly considered simply heading to bed. Then I realized I had not prepared the coffee for the morning and had not made any blog entries for the day. That was enough to send me downstairs to the family room/office around midnight to work on the blog. The writing itself went smoothly, but uploading photographs and video to Wix became painfully slow, something I have been noticing more and more lately. I began wondering whether the sheer number of images stored online might be contributing to the problem and whether it may soon be time to sort through them, save what I want to keep on an auxiliary drive, and clean things up.

By 7:00, the morning seemed determined to cooperate.

The sky was brightening, the air was comfortable, and I had that rare but welcome feeling that this was shaping up to be one of those days when I simply felt pretty good.

Not long afterward, the decision about bringing another dish to the party had apparently been made for me. By 7:17 I was already in the kitchen preparing pasta for an Italian-style seafood pasta salad. Looking outside through the patio door, I could see the sky clearing and the morning progressing exactly as I had hoped. A few minutes later, at about 7:26, the sun finally rose high enough to begin peeking through the canopy of trees along the back property line. So far, so good.  

The morning became much busier than originally planned. While finishing the seafood pasta salad, I discovered I was missing a necessary ingredient and had to make a quick trip to the market. As usual, “quick” became somewhat relative once I noticed several things on sale that I knew I would eventually need anyway. I returned home, finished the salad,

placed it into a disposable container to make cleanup easier after the party,

and also packaged the roasted peppers in a large foil pan surrounded by several varieties of corn chips.

By late morning, however, all of the preparation was complete and I had actually managed to meet my deadline for getting out the door. At 11:50 I took a few minutes to sit at the deck table before leaving. Mother Nature could hardly have done a better job.

It was 74 degrees, almost completely sunny, with humidity around 66 percent and a comfortable northeast breeze of about seven miles per hour. The forecast called for a high of only 78 and sunshine throughout the day—about as close to perfect weather for an outdoor family gathering as I could have requested.

The party at my son-in-law’s parents’ home turned out to be quite lovely. There were more people than I could even begin to count and enough food to feed several times that number. His parents have always been exceptionally gracious and caring people, and I consider myself very fortunate not only to know them through family but to count them as friends.

When I returned home, probably sometime around 4:30 or 5:00, I sat down in the recliner, turned on the television, and apparently fell asleep almost immediately. The nap certainly had not been planned, but I slept until my daughter called at around 7:30 and woke me.

Unfortunately, there was also some troubling family news waiting for me. My niece Stacey had texted to say that she would be remaining in the hospital another day and that the doctors were fairly certain she had suffered a mini-stroke. Hearing that was frightening. Stacey is an exceptionally loving and caring person who seems to take everything deeply to heart, and after losing her father years ago and now recently losing her mother, I cannot help but think about the enormous emotional and physical toll everything has taken on her.

After my daughter’s call, I made my way back outside to the deck for what I knew would probably be a short evening stay. Daylight was fading rapidly, and before I even reached the chair I turned around and went back inside for a light jacket.

Without the benefit of the sun, the temperature had cooled enough to put a definite September chill in the air.

As the last of the daylight disappeared, I found myself thinking about what a full day it had been. It began quietly with the moon, coffee, and a little uncertainty about what I would prepare. It quickly turned into cooking, a market trip, beautiful weather, a large family gathering, more food than anyone could possibly need, plenty of conversation, an unexpected several-hour nap, and then some sobering news about Stacey.

Weatherwise, though, Mother Nature was damn near spectacular from beginning to end.

And after everything else that filled the day, those few quiet minutes on the deck as the evening light faded seemed like an appropriate place to bring September 6 to a close.

September 7, 2026

September 7 turned out to be one of those rare days when doing almost nothing felt like exactly the right thing to do.

I can’t believe it was already 7:57 this morning before I finally made my way to the coffee maker and then toward the patio door. After yesterday’s holiday gathering at my son-in-law’s parents’ home, I came home and almost immediately fell asleep in the recliner. I didn’t wake until around 7:00 or 7:30 in the evening when my daughter called, and before long I had fallen asleep again, this time until nearly midnight.

When I woke, I was still tired but quickly realized there were several things I needed to take care of before going to bed. By the time everything was finished, it was almost 3:00 AM. I didn’t wake again until a little more than half an hour before writing this, so this was certainly not what I would normally consider an early start. The sunlight flooding the bedroom made it immediately obvious that I had slept later than usual.

I’m still feeling somewhat fatigued and a little on edge this morning, but stepping outside offered a much more encouraging picture.

Aside from a considerable amount of morning dew, everything suggests another gorgeous day may be ahead. It’s currently 58 degrees with 91% humidity, a light breeze out of the northeast at about 3 mph, and almost completely cloudless skies.

The morning sun is already beginning to work its way through the trees, making the deck look like a very inviting place to begin the day with a cup of coffee.

I didn’t get moving particularly early this morning. By the time I finally made my way out onto the deck at around 9:45, the old haymaker had already taken care of most of the morning dew. The temperature was around 67 degrees, the humidity had dropped considerably, there was a light breeze out of the southeast, and the sky was almost completely clear. It was difficult to imagine asking for anything better.

I settled into my familiar seat at the table with my coffee while smooth jazz drifted out from the kitchen, and before long the morning entertainment began.

A lone squirrel spent quite a bit of time wandering close enough for me to take several photographs.

Shortly before 10:00 I heard quite a racket coming from the southeast and immediately suspected Canadian geese. Sure enough, within seconds a flock came into view overhead, apparently beginning their migration.

I managed to get a couple of photographs of them silhouetted against an incredibly blue sky.

Not long afterward I caught something moving out of the corner of my eye and saw what appeared to be a small fawn crossing the road. Unfortunately, by the time I grabbed the phone it had already disappeared into the growth near my neighbor’s property.

Between the coffee, sunshine, smooth jazz, squirrels, geese and occasional glimpse of other wildlife, the morning watch was certainly living up to its name.

As the sun continued climbing, it became intense enough to shine directly through the fabric of the umbrella.

There was also a little comic relief when a large partially ripened tomato sitting on the table was initially mistaken for a small pumpkin. I got quite a chuckle out of that one.

A little later, I found myself simply scanning that almost impossibly blue sky. For whatever reason, the sunlight reflecting from the utility lines caught my attention. Lines that normally look black or dark gray appeared almost white or silver because of the angle of the sunlight.

Even an ordinary collection of wires became something worth stopping to notice and photograph.

Then, as sometimes happens, an absolutely beautiful moment suddenly carried me somewhere else entirely.

Several convertible sports cars passed by with their tops down, their occupants obviously enjoying what may be some of the last truly beautiful days of summer. Watching them brought back memories of Fran and me when we were much younger. There were so many occasions when we would see something like that and say, “Someday we’ll be able to do that.”

Unfortunately, some of those somedays never came.

Fran and I worked hard throughout our lives. We raised a family, paid the bills, dealt with responsibilities, made sacrifices and did what needed to be done. At the time there always seemed to be another tomorrow, another year and another opportunity somewhere down the road.

Looking at those convertibles this morning reminded me that sometimes the future we assume will be there simply isn’t.

It didn’t ruin the morning. The sky was still blue, the sun was still shining and everything around me remained just about perfect. But it was another reminder that grief has a way of entering even the most beautiful moments. Sometimes it is precisely because the moment is so beautiful that I become aware of the person who should still be beside me enjoying it.

By shortly after noon I had barely left the deck except to refill my coffee. I started feeling somewhat guilty about not accomplishing anything particularly useful since getting out of bed, but the weather was simply too incredible to abandon.

One thing that did continue irritating me was the problem I’ve been having while working on the blog. Entering text into Wix hasn’t been a problem, but lately uploading photographs has become ridiculously slow. Photographs smaller than one megabyte have sometimes taken ten minutes or more to upload.

The night before, I had gone downstairs after midnight to make some blog entries even though I was already exhausted and ready for bed. Sitting there waiting several minutes for one small photograph after another to upload came close to exhausting whatever patience I had left. There have been moments when I’ve been tempted to throw something at the computer, although fortunately common sense eventually intervened.

Meanwhile, the wildlife continued making appearances.

A couple of turkeys crossed the road from my neighbor’s yard into the grassy hillside behind the garden.

Just as I was getting ready to photograph them, my daughter called. We talked for about fifteen minutes, and when the conversation ended I was surprised to discover the turkeys were still wandering around the hillside.

During our conversation, my daughter asked whether I had eaten breakfast or lunch. I admitted I hadn’t eaten either. Her response was essentially, “Well, what are you waiting for?”

At first I still wasn’t particularly hungry, but apparently she planted the seed because around 1:15 I suddenly became very hungry.

What I originally intended to be a two-egg omelet somehow became a three-egg omelet filled with roasted peppers I had recently made, diced fresh garden tomato and Mexican cheese.

Just before taking it out of the pan I looked at it and thought there was no way one person needed that much food.

Naturally, I carried the whole thing outside to the deck anyway.

Afterward I did manage to accomplish a few useful things indoors. I finally dealt with the six small plates containing different varieties of pepper seeds that had been sitting on the kitchen counter.

I labeled some old prescription bottles, transferred the seeds into them and reclaimed a substantial amount of counter space.

While I was already in cleanup mode, I decided it might be wise to clean and prepare the coffee maker for tomorrow morning rather than discovering around midnight tonight that I had forgotten about it again.

That accomplished, I returned to the deck.

I had been meaning to call Justin regarding the plants he left here when he and his family visited for Linda’s celebration of life. As I was actually looking up his number, the name Myers appeared on the phone as an incoming call. For a moment I thought it was an amazing coincidence that Justin was calling me at the exact moment I was preparing to call him.

It turned out to be his father, Earl.

Earl and his wife Jo (Josephine) Frans cousin, recently relocated permanently from New Jersey to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. We talked for about twenty minutes. Afterward I called Justin and probably spent another half hour talking with him.

By then the afternoon was beginning its slow progression toward evening, and I still had absolutely no desire to leave the deck.

At around 4:52 the afternoon watch suddenly acquired another purpose.

A woman driving an SUV stopped on the road above the deck, rolled down the window and asked whether I had seen a poodle-type dog wandering around the neighborhood. I told her I had been sitting outside for most of the day and hadn’t seen any stray dogs.

She asked that if I did see him, to try to get him to come to me and then call the number on his collar.

I told her I certainly would.

Her situation brought back plenty of memories from the years when we had dogs of our own, as did my daughter. They were dogs who seemed perfectly content to sit there watching you until the second you looked away, at which point they would bolt toward parts unknown.

I remember driving and walking all over the neighborhood searching for them and, even more vividly, the gut-wrenching feeling of wondering whether something had happened to them.

So from that point forward, in addition to admiring the scenery, I found myself watching the roadway and neighboring yards a little more carefully in case that missing dog happened to appear.

Somewhere during all of this I made the mistake of becoming curious about another technological possibility.

I wondered whether there was some way to make and receive regular telephone calls on my iPad using my iPhone.

As it turns out, there certainly is.

Or at least there is supposed to be.

What followed consumed a good portion of the late afternoon and evening.

I went through settings on both the iPhone and iPad. Calls on Other Devices was enabled. Calls from iPhone was enabled on the iPad. Both devices were signed into the same Apple account. Wi-Fi was on. Bluetooth was on. Handoff was on. The devices were connected to the same network.

The iPad still insisted that phone calls were not available.

I restarted it.

No change.

I completed the full iPad software update.

Restarted it again.

Still no change.

I checked one setting after another, tested Contacts and eventually even tried Universal Clipboard as another way of determining whether the iPhone and iPad were properly communicating through Apple’s Continuity system.

That didn’t work either.

Eventually I reached the conclusion that this apparently wasn’t simply a matter of one incorrect switch in the Phone settings. For whatever reason, the two devices were not properly completing their Continuity connection even though virtually every visible setting appeared correct.

The next possible step involves resetting network settings on the iPad and reconnecting everything afterward.

By that point, however, I had had enough.

I don’t take defeat particularly well, so I doubt I’m finished with this particular battle. But for tonight the iPad has been granted a temporary reprieve.

By 8:15 PM I realized that I had probably spent at least eleven of the previous twelve hours sitting outside.

And I wasn’t complaining in the least.

From morning through afternoon and well into the evening, this was quite simply one of the most beautiful days I can remember experiencing in a very long time.

I’m not certain I could recall a better one unless it happened somewhere in the Caribbean, and comparing my back deck with the Caribbean probably isn’t entirely fair.

Still, for September in Western Pennsylvania, today came remarkably close to perfection.

It began with sunshine, coffee, smooth jazz, squirrels and migrating geese. It brought memories of Fran, some painful and some comforting. There were turkeys wandering the hillside, conversations with my daughter and members of Fran’s family, a rather oversized omelet, a little kitchen cleanup, a missing neighborhood dog to watch for, and finally several hours of technological combat with an iPad.

One blemish on an otherwise extraordinary day.

Now I’m finally making my way downstairs to the family room/office to work on the blog.

Technology may have tested my patience considerably today, but Mother Nature certainly did everything she could to make up for it.

September 8, 2026

My day began early enough for the crescent moon to still be clearly visible above the horizon at around 6:29 this morning. After drying the moisture from the deck table, I settled into my usual position for the morning watch and began

photographing the changing sky. From roughly 6:49 until 7:49, I watched the morning progress from the cool, subdued colors of dawn into a much brighter and more energetic September morning.

At approximately 7:43, the sun finally made what I would consider a rather grand entrance, breaking through the branches and canopy of the trees beyond the garden.

Almost immediately I could feel the intensity of its light and warmth. A quick trip inside to refill my coffee cup made the moment even more enjoyable.

Sitting there with warm sunshine on me while the surrounding morning air remained pleasantly cool was one of those simple combinations that is difficult to beat. With the coffee in hand and the yard gradually coming alive, I found myself wondering what the rest of the day might bring.

As it turned out, the morning brought considerably more activity than I originally anticipated. At around 9:30, what was supposed to be another simple trip into the kitchen for coffee reminded me that I had clothes sitting in the washing machine. I headed downstairs, moved that load into the dryer and, since I was already there, put another load into the washer. On my way back through the family room I remembered some paperwork that needed attention, so I sat down at the computer and took care of that as well.

By around 11:00 I was finally preparing to return to the deck when I remembered the two enormous, almost bowling-pin-sized zucchini sitting in the refrigerator. They certainly weren't going to improve with age, so yet another project was born.

I decided to turn them into a mock apple crisp, using zucchini in place of apples.

I began simmering the zucchini with lemon juice and

later added granulated sugar, brown sugar, cinnamon and nutmeg

while preparing the dry crumb mixture.

Somehow a simple coffee refill had transformed into laundry, paperwork and a fairly substantial baking project before noon.

By 2:20 in the afternoon, the first pan of zucchini "apple" crumble was out of the oven and the second was going in.

I had intended to photograph the layering process while assembling the first pan but completely forgot. I reassured myself that I still had a second pan and would certainly remember to photograph that one.

Naturally, I didn't.

It wasn't until I was putting the second tray into the oven that I realized I had forgotten all over again.

So much for my carefully planned photographic documentation. Fortunately, the finished dessert looked remarkably convincing, and the zucchini had taken on the appearance of cooked apples surprisingly well.  

After such a busy morning and early afternoon, I finally returned to the deck at about 3:36 and gave myself permission to do absolutely nothing for a while. It was 81 degrees with humidity around 64 percent and a very light southwest breeze of about 4 mph.

The sky was a beautiful deep blue with scattered clouds, and it was one of those September afternoons that seemed almost more like midsummer. After everything I had accomplished earlier, I was extremely thankful simply to sit at the table, enjoy the warmth and watch the afternoon go by.

By early evening I found a little more work waiting for me. At approximately 6:53, I finished watering the garden, the flowers around the front of the house, the plants near the small lean-to greenhouse on the other side of the house, and the flowers in the planter attached to the mailbox post. While I was watering, I noticed my neighbor Bob across the street spreading topsoil in preparation for planting some grass seed. He had apparently been working outside in the sun for quite a while and looked pretty well worn out, so we began talking for a bit.

I eventually walked over to the garage, grabbed a couple bottles of cold refreshment and joined him along the retaining wall beside his driveway. We continued talking for roughly twenty minutes. Bob apparently needed his refreshment considerably more than I did because I believe his disappeared in about two minutes. I, on the other hand, worked on mine throughout our entire conversation and eventually brought what remained back home with me to the deck,

where I continued nursing it during the evening watch.

Looking back, it was one of those days that managed to contain quite a bit without ever really feeling overwhelming. It began quietly beneath a crescent moon, moved through a beautiful sunrise and morning coffee, wandered unexpectedly into laundry, paperwork and a zucchini dessert experiment, and eventually settled into an exceptional September afternoon. By evening I had finished the watering, enjoyed an impromptu visit with a neighbor and returned to the deck with a cold drink in hand.

Not a particularly dramatic day by any means, but perhaps that is exactly why it was such an enjoyable one.

September 9, 2026

Today began at 7:12 AM with what looked like the possibility of a rather wet morning watch. It was 65° with 89% humidity and a steady southwest wind at about 8 mph.

Much to my surprise, however, the deck was completely dry. Apparently the wind had done me a favor and prevented any significant dew from settling overnight.

One of the first amusing moments of the morning came when Neal passed by on his way to school. Sometime last year I had told him that whenever he saw the floodlight illuminated on the street-side gable of the house, he should stop because it meant I had prepared something for him. This morning he finally remembered. Rather than following his normal route along the street, he came almost directly across the yard toward the house. Before he made his way off to school I handed him off a generous sample of the zucchini crisp.

It immediately reminded me of the old hotel slogan: “I’ll leave the light on for you.”

The weather also began changing quickly. At 7:27 the heavier clouds started breaking apart and the morning suddenly looked considerably more promising.

By 7:36 the old haymaker had found an opening through the trees and was letting his presence be known.

What had initially looked like a potentially dreary morning was rapidly developing into another beautiful September day, and as the sky brightened I found myself feeling considerably more optimistic as well.

Unfortunately, my thoughts eventually returned to a news story I had watched the previous evening on MS NOW. I could not remember with certainty whether the program had been hosted by Lawrence O’Donnell or Ali Velshi, but the subject matter had left me extremely angry and disturbed. The report concerned legal representation for unaccompanied immigrant children and changes involving HHS and its Office of Refugee Resettlement. What affected me most was the possibility of very young children appearing before immigration judges without attorneys, along with reports that information supplied by relatives attempting to sponsor or reunite with children had sometimes been shared with ICE and the children were basically used as bait to bring friends and family in and then arrest them as well.. I found the entire situation deeply troubling and once again began wondering how our country had reached this point.  

By somewhere around 10 AM, I realized that continuing to dwell on the story was only making me angrier. I knew I needed to occupy my mind with something else, so as often happens, I made my way into the kitchen. I remembered a container of blueberries I had purchased a couple of days earlier. I had not intended to do any baking, but the berries had looked too good to pass up when I bought them, and suddenly blueberry muffins seemed like a very good idea.

I started by preparing a streusel crumb topping using flour, sugars, cinnamon, nutmeg, rolled oats and grated butter. The oats were something I decided to add after remembering how much I enjoyed the texture of the topping on yesterday’s zucchini crisp.

I then mixed the dry ingredients for the muffin streusel topping.

Next I prepared the dry ingredients for the actual muffins,

followed by the wet ingredients, which included sour cream, cream, melted butter, lemon zest, extracts and eggs. I lightly dredged the blueberries in flour before gently folding them into the batter.  

I carefully filled the muffin liners, trying to find that elusive perfect level that might finally give me the bakery-style dome I am always chasing.

The final step included adding a generous amount of streusel and extra coarse confectioners sugar.

I still had some batter remaining after filling the two muffin tins, so rather than waste it I lined an ovenproof bowl with parchment paper and made one oversized bonus muffin. Unfortunately there was not enough strussel for the bonus muffin so i simply sprinkled on a generous dose of coarse confectioners sugar.

Everything then went into the oven.

I started the muffins at 425° for seven minutes and then, without opening the oven door, reduced the temperature to 350° and baked them for approximately another 30 minutes.

They turned out very well. None overflowed, they rose evenly, and although I was still wishing for a slightly more pronounced dome, I had very little legitimate reason to complain about the results.

Once the baking was finished and the kitchen cleaned up, I returned to the deck with another cup of coffee. Unfortunately, with nothing occupying my hands and mind, I found myself becoming angry about the news story all over again. The baking had provided a temporary distraction, but apparently it had not completely cleared the subject from my mind.

Another event from the morning was a phone call from my good friend Bob in Greensburg. He recently sold the house he has lived in for quite a few years and purchased another home with fewer steps, something I certainly understand as we both get older. He asked whether I could help him install a replacement wooden garage door at the house he just sold. The used door he found is in good condition but was originally hinged from the opposite side, so the job will involve flipping it and relocating the hinges. The work itself should not be particularly difficult, but the measurements will have to be extremely precise so the hinges line up properly with the existing jamb. If they do not, we can always relocate the jamb-side hinges and make whatever adjustments are necessary to the mortises.

By early afternoon I had accumulated far more baked goods than I could possibly consume myself, so I began packaging everything for delivery. At around 2:30 PM I loaded the zucchini crisp, pumpkin roll and blueberry muffins into the car and headed first to my daughter’s house. I deliberately made her house the first stop because the remaining pumpkin roll contained cream frosting and I did not want it sitting in the warm car any longer than necessary. I brought two trays, each containing a generous serving of zucchini crisp, a couple slices of pumpkin roll and two blueberry muffins. One tray was for my daughter and the second for a close friend Tracy. who was expected to stop by later with a birthday present, since tomorrow is my daughter’s birthday.

After visiting with my daughter for about 15 minutes, I continued next door to my son-in-law’s grandmother. She is well into her 90s and has been dealing with some health problems lately. She was quite pleased both with the baked goods and with having some company. Although I had intended the stop to be relatively brief, we sat and talked for about half an hour, and I truly enjoyed spending the time with her.

From there I moved next door to my son-in-law’s parents. I called from the driveway first because I was not sure they were home and did not particularly want to make the trip up the long walkway and steps unnecessarily. They were both there and invited me to stay and have something to drink. I told them apologetically that I really could not stay long because I still had plenty waiting for me at home, but somehow we managed to have another very enjoyable conversation that probably lasted between 30 and 40 minutes before I finally headed home.

Earlier, prior to leaving the house to make deliveries and while searching the garage for containers to package the baked goods, I had returned to the kitchen and discovered that the table umbrella had disappeared from the deck.

Apparently a substantial gust of wind had lifted it completely out of its weighted base and tossed it into the side yard.

After the muffins were finished, I had also decided to use some fresh corn I recently purchased at a farmers market to make corn salsa. I roasted the ears at 400° for approximately 30 minutes with the husks still intact.

Before leaving to make my deliveries, I removed the husks using the method I recently discovered of cutting approximately an inch from the bottom of each ear.

It continues to amaze me how easily the husks and silk pull away using that method. After a quick rinse, the corn was perfectly clean and ready to use.

Later in the afternoon I finally returned to the kitchen and completed the salsa. It included the roasted fresh corn, diced tomatoes, peppers, red onion, freshly chopped cilantro, garlic, a bit of cumin and lime juice.

Naturally I had to conduct a little quality control before distributing any of it to anyone else, and I was quite pleased with the results.

After making the salsa, preparing a little dinner and cleaning up the kitchen, I returned to the deck around 7:15 hoping to enjoy what remained of the day. The conditions were nearly ideal at 79° with 74% humidity and an 8 mph southwest breeze. Unfortunately, the peace lasted only a few minutes before the roar of an engine announced that someone from the school district maintenance crew had decided that 7:15 in the evening was an excellent time to cut grass.

Thankfully, the commotion lasted only about 15 minutes before they moved on.

Once silence returned, another much quieter sound caught my attention. I began hearing a very faint, fragile chirping coming from the large pine tree directly beyond the deck. The sound continued for about ten minutes before stopping.

There have been countless birds going in and out of that pine all summer, cardinals, robins, blue jays, wrens, swallows and several others, so I could not determine what species was responsible. I wondered whether it might have been a late-season hatchling or perhaps a recently fledged youngster hidden deep within the dense branches. Unless I eventually see a parent feeding it or the youngster emerging from the tree, I doubt I will ever know for certain.

While sitting quietly on the deck, I suddenly remembered another matter I need to resolve. Several weeks ago I received a summons for jury duty on September 11. I completed the juror questionnaire online and requested to be excused because the information stated that anyone 75 or older could request an exemption. When I called the county after hearing nothing for several weeks, I was told they had never received my online submission. I again requested the exemption directly over the phone and was told that a letter would arrive within a day or two. That conversation took place last Thursday, and no letter has arrived. Since tomorrow is September 10 and I would supposedly have to report the following day, I will be calling the county again tomorrow morning to make absolutely certain I have been excused.

By 7:48 PM, what remained of the daylight was rapidly disappearing and I decided it was time to close up shop on the deck.

I still had to clean the coffee maker and prepare everything for tomorrow morning before eventually heading downstairs to the family room/office to work on the blog.

It took me considerably longer than expected to finally make it downstairs. At 10:59 PM, before beginning the blog, I went into the kitchen for my final cup of coffee of the day and spotted one of the blueberry muffins sitting on the counter.

I decided it was finally time to find out whether they tasted as good as they looked.

They did — and then some.

In fact, I believe these may be some of the best blueberry muffins I have ever made. As I tried to determine what might have made this batch noticeably better, I remembered the rolled oats I had added to the streusel topping. That idea came directly from yesterday’s zucchini crisp, whose topping remained wonderfully crisp even after sitting for more than 24 hours. The oats gave today’s muffin topping that same additional crunch and texture, and after tasting the result I am convinced that particular modification has earned a permanent place in the recipe. I also made a mental note that the next time I decide to take a photo of a muffin, that I cut to show a cross section, I need to try to not crush it.

So a day that began with threatening clouds and eventually included anger, frustration, baking, deliveries, flying umbrellas, corn salsa, noisy lawn equipment, a mysterious bird in the pine tree and an unresolved jury-duty question has finally ended with a cup of coffee, an exceptionally good blueberry muffin, and me sitting downstairs preparing to put the whole thing into words.

September 10, 2026

I began the morning at around 6:10 a.m., looking out through the patio doors and immediately realizing we had received a fairly substantial amount of rain overnight. I wasn’t exactly sure when it had fallen, but just about everything outside was soaking wet. The temperature was already around 70°, the humidity was an impressive 98%, and there was a light 4 mph breeze coming from the west.

Although the nighttime sky still had a fairly firm grip on the new day, I could see quite a few clouds near the horizon while the sky directly overhead remained clear enough for several stars to still be visible.

At that point I really had no idea what kind of day was developing, but I did know I had a couple of things on the agenda. I needed to contact the county courthouse to find out exactly where I stood regarding jury duty, and I was fairly certain I would need to make a trip to the market if I planned on doing much of anything in the kitchen.

Today also happened to be my daughter Kimberly’s birthday, so I knew there was a pretty good chance I would be seeing her at some point as well.

By around 6:38 a.m., daylight was gradually beginning to take over.

As I often do when I have something for Neal, I turned on the outside light as a signal that there might be something waiting for him. I had already put together a small care package containing some of the corn salsa I made yesterday, a small bag of corn chips, and one of the blueberry muffins that had turned out especially well.

The only problem was making sure I actually caught him when he passed the house.

At around 6:45, I decided it was time to wake up the squeegee team. They were somewhat reluctant to report for duty, but after a little persuasion and the promise of blueberry muffins, they eventually went to work.

There was considerably more water on the deck than the usual morning dew, but after some effort I managed to dry the table and seating area sufficiently to begin morning watch.

By 7:12, the weather was already showing signs of improving. The sky was beginning to clear, particularly toward the southeast, and I was finally able to settle into my usual spot on the deck with coffee in hand and a reasonably good view of the road.

At 7:27, mission accomplished.

Neal passed through, although he was running a little late and didn’t really have time to stop and talk. He did tell me that he had really enjoyed the zucchini crisp I had given him previously. When I handed him the new package and told him what was inside, he laughed and said now he was going to have to decide what to try first, but he was sure everything would be absolutely delicious. He thanked me again and continued on his way to work.

The changing weather became one of the most interesting parts of the morning. Photos taken only minutes apart showed the sky changing rather dramatically. At 7:17, the sun was only beginning to break through the trees, sending long golden shafts of light across the wet grass. By 7:35, much more blue sky was visible and the overall scene had brightened considerably.

Not long afterward, the old haymaker finally began making a more serious appearance, with sunlight filtering through the trees and illuminating the moisture still hanging in the air.

Somewhere during the morning, my thoughts drifted back to the blueberry muffins I had made the previous day. At around 3 a.m., just before finally falling asleep, I had actually found myself wondering whether adding a little active dry yeast to the batter, along with the normal baking powder and baking soda, might help create a little more rise.

After thinking it through, I decided a better experiment would probably be to slightly adjust the existing chemical leaveners rather than introduce yeast. Since the recipe does include acidic ingredients such as buttermilk, sour cream, or lemon juice, a very modest increase in baking powder and perhaps a tiny additional amount of baking soda could be worth trying. I also liked the idea of beginning the muffins at a higher oven temperature for the first few minutes to encourage a little more oven spring.

I certainly plan to make more blueberry muffins, especially since the addition of rolled oats to the streusel topping worked out so well, but I’ve also been thinking about changing up the flavor profile. Banana walnut sounds particularly appealing, and cranberry orange is another combination I would like to try. The muffin department appears to be expanding.

I left the house at around 10 a.m. and first stopped at my brother and sister-in-law’s house to drop off a couple of muffins and a piece of zucchini crisp. After visiting for a few minutes, I continued on to a local market.

As usual, I purchased several things I actually needed and a few things I apparently did not. It wasn’t until I got home and started putting groceries away that I discovered I had purchased several items I already had. I really do need to come up with a better system for keeping track of what is already in the house.

Before leaving that morning, I had also contacted the county courthouse regarding the jury-duty situation. They assured me that I had, in fact, been excused and told me that a letter confirming that had already been sent. According to them, they had no control over the efficiency of the postal system. When and if that letter finally arrives, I’ll be checking the postmark to see exactly when it was mailed.

After returning home from the market, I made myself some French toast for brunch, cleaned up the kitchen a bit, and then made my way back onto the deck.

By around 12:57 p.m., the sky had become considerably more overcast again, but conditions were still comfortable.

The temperature was around 77°, the humidity was 71%, and there was a fairly steady 9 mph breeze coming from the west. After a busy morning, I was more than ready for a little fresh air and relaxation.

Upon beginning my afternoon watch one of my furry neighbors decided to pay a visit and provide some early afternoon entertainment and apparently pose for a photo op.

Earlier in the day I had spoken with Kimberly, and she told me that my son-in-law’s parents, John and Karyl, were having her and the family over for dinner that evening and had extended an invitation to me as well. Considering it was Kimberly’s birthday, I had a fairly good idea what the occasion was.

After spending some time on the deck, I returned indoors and decided to sit in the recliner for what I intended to be a short rest.

As is so often the case, “a short rest” somehow became a three-hour nap.

I woke up at around 4:15 p.m. and immediately realized I had only about half an hour before I needed to leave. I quickly pulled out the birthday card I had purchased for Kimberly, signed it, tucked some cash inside, grabbed my keys and hat, and somehow managed to get out the door by about 4:30.

I arrived at John and Karyl’s house at around 4:50. Kimberly and my son-in-law were already there, along with my son-in-law’s grandmother and, of course, John and Karyl. We sat in the living room for somewhere between 45 minutes and an hour, had a few cocktails, and enjoyed some very pleasant conversation. My son-in-law’s sister also joined us for dinner.

We sat down to eat at around 6 p.m., and as is usually the case at John and Karyl’s house, there was quite a spread on the table.

After dinner, Karyl brought out dessert, and John eventually asked if I wanted some coffee.

Anyone who knows me knows there wasn’t much suspense involved in that decision.

We continued talking for a while longer before I eventually thanked everyone for the hospitality, said my goodbyes, and headed home.

I’m guessing I arrived home sometime between 7 and 7:30 p.m. I put away the food John and Karyl had sent home with me and then, once again, made my way to the recliner.

I remember turning on the television.

That’s about it.

A short time later I was asleep again.

I woke up about an hour later, and not long afterward my friend Bob in Greensburg called. He asked if I could come over Saturday morning to help him with a door he wants to replace in his garage. I told him that wouldn’t be a problem. We agreed on a time, talked for a while longer, and eventually said our goodbyes.

About half an hour later, Kimberly called to ask how I had enjoyed dinner. We talked for another 15 or 20 minutes before ending the call.

At that point I returned to the recliner once again, thinking I would rest for just a little while before heading downstairs to the family room/office to work on my blog.

Apparently I still hadn’t learned anything from the earlier naps.

I didn’t wake up again until around 1 a.m. Friday morning.

Looking back, the day had quite a bit packed into it: a rain-soaked beginning, morning watch, a successful Neal interception, rapidly changing skies, muffin experiments, a market run, finally getting confirmation that I was excused from jury duty, a little French toast, an unexpectedly long afternoon nap, and a very pleasant birthday dinner with Kimberly and family.

Not exactly the quiet day I might have expected when I first looked out into the wet darkness at 6:10 that morning.

September 11, 2026

My day began at the rather ridiculous hour of 4:23 AM. After lying awake for another 30 or 45 minutes, I realized that returning to sleep was probably not going to happen. Apparently, after all the sleeping I had done on Thursday, my body had decided it didn’t require any more rest.

I stood at the kitchen counter near the patio door, gazing into the darkness and beginning to feel a little squirrelly. When I turned on the outside light, I discovered that the deck and everything on it had received a fairly thorough soaking sometime during the night.

I considered pouring another cup of coffee and sitting outside, but that certainly wouldn’t have helped me get back to sleep. Besides, I wasn’t about to awaken the squeegee team at that hour, so I continued looking out through the patio door.

Before long, I developed an appetite and turned my attention toward the mega muffin left from Wednesday’s baking. Although I had run out of crumb topping before making it, the muffin was still moist and quite tasty. The coarse sugar I had sprinkled on top before baking gave it a slight crunch that I found especially appealing.

By around 4:50, I had accepted that returning to bed was highly unlikely. I made the bed, got dressed, and returned to the kitchen. As I carried my coffee toward the patio door, the radio suddenly stopped and a message appeared on my phone claiming that I had no network connection. After checking the settings and seeing that the network was connected, I restarted the smooth jazz station. The first song to play was Chris Botti and Sting’s rendition of “In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning.” Considering the circumstances, the timing was almost comical.

At approximately 7:00, I decided to make productive use of my early start by baking another batch of muffins, three varieties, in fact.

I prepared the crumb topping,

followed by the dry

and wet ingredients,

and then divided the basic muffin batter among three separate bowls. One became cranberry-orange, the second banana-walnut, and the third blueberry with lemon zest.

Trying to balance all three varieties at once created several moments when I felt as though I might be approaching insanity. Nevertheless, I eventually filled the liners with four muffins of each variety. As anticipated, I had some batter remaining, which allowed me to make another mega muffin, this time blueberry.

The muffins came out of the oven at around 9:00, and I was quite pleased with the results.

Adding an extra half teaspoon of baking powder seemed to provide more lift, and most of the muffins were getting closer to the domed tops I have been trying to achieve. Not bad for someone who had awakened at four in the morning and was attempting to make productive use of all those unexpected hours.

The weather had also improved considerably. It was 69 degrees with 89 percent humidity and a three-mile-per-hour breeze from the northeast. Since I had completed much of the cleanup while the muffins were baking, I was feeling pretty good about things. I hoped the old haymaker might dry the deck and its furnishings without requiring me to awaken the squeegee team.

At around 10:00, I finally made my way outside. I didn’t need the entire squeegee team, although Little T was not especially happy about being pressed into service. With his assistance and a few paper towels, I removed the remaining pools of water. It was admittedly a rushed job, but after putting everything away and returning outside, I found that the deck and furniture were relatively dry.

By 10:39, it was 73 degrees, although it felt like 79. The humidity had dropped to 78 percent, and there was an almost imperceptible two-mile-per-hour breeze from the northeast.

Those conditions were certainly more than adequate for a morning watch.

My adventures in the kitchen continued into the early afternoon with another experiment, a yet to be named creation that looked like a muffin but tasted like a complete breakfast.

I lined the muffin cups with shredded potatoes

and added onions, bell peppers, spinach, diced ham, Mexican-blend cheese, garlic powder, Cajun seasoning, eggs, heavy cream, and a sprinkling of baking powder to give everything a little lift.

I had considered using sausage or bacon, but neither was thawed, so I diced a chunk of ham instead. After the breakfast creations came out of the oven, I placed them under the broiler for about a minute. They looked fairly impressive,

but I could only hope that I would be able to remove them from the tins without reducing them to hash or scrambled eggs with extra attractions.

While they cooled, I returned to the deck to enjoy a phenomenal afternoon. The sun was shining through intermittent clouds, the temperature had reached 79 degrees,

the humidity had dropped to 60 percent, and there was only a faint three mile per hour breeze from the northwest.

At around 4:00, I began trying to remove the muffin/omelet breakfast creations from the tins. The process didn’t go quite as smoothly as I had hoped, but I eventually managed to free all of them without causing too much damage. I used a cheese knife to loosen the perimeter of each one and then carefully worked it underneath until the bottom broke loose.

The shredded potatoes along the sides had released reasonably well. The real problem was on the bottoms, where the potatoes had not become crisp enough before I added the remaining ingredients. Once everything was piled on top, the bottoms were no longer able to crisp as much as I wanted. Removing them was not disastrous, but it was definitely painstaking.

Of course, no experiment is complete until the quality control department steps in. I cut open one of the lesser defined specimens and discovered that the ingredients were distributed fairly consistently.

More importantly, the taste was pretty damn good.

I have already begun thinking about the next attempt. Instead of shredding the potatoes, I may slice them extremely thin and arrange the longer pieces around the inside of each cup, almost as though I were making a potato rose. Allowing the rounded edges to extend slightly above the cups could create an attractive scalloped finish.

I also liked the suggestion of placing parchment rounds in the bottoms of the muffin cups. Since the sides did not stick badly, parchment cut slightly larger than the base of each cup may solve the most troublesome part of the problem.

At around 4:30, while cleaning the kitchen, I heard a lawnmower running. When I opened the patio door, I discovered that my neighbor Bob had once again taken it upon himself to cut my grass.

After he had been working for 30 or 45 minutes, I brought him a bottle of cold water and asked him to stop inside before leaving because I had a few things for him.

I packaged one muffin from each of the three varieties, a piece of zucchini crisp, and some corn chowder that I had taken from the freezer the previous day. After Bob tasted some of the muffins, he began thanking me. I told him it was the least I could do for everything he does for me and once again asked why he wouldn’t allow me to pay him. His response was simple: “Absolutely not, man. Just keep cooking.”

At around 5:30, I was greeted by the husband and wife who live near the bottom of the hill. They have apparently lived there for quite some time, but it wasn’t until shortly before Fran’s passing, or perhaps afterward, that we began having regular conversations. Now, whenever they pass my house, they usually stop and talk for a while. Since opportunities for adult conversation can be rather limited, I genuinely enjoy their visits.

Over the years, I have given them quite a few things from the garden, which they have always appreciated. During the past couple of years, they have also become enthusiastic recipients of samples from my baking adventures.

They walk almost every day, usually passing my house on their way toward the high school at around 5:30 and not returning until 7:00 or 7:30. Judging from the amount of time they are gone, they must cover a considerable distance. As they headed out this evening, I invited them to stop on their return trip because I had several things I wanted them to try.

A little before 6:00, while sitting on the deck and enjoying what remained of the day, I began getting hungry. It seemed like the perfect evening for outdoor dining, and not just any dinner, but something slightly decadent and especially delicious.

I prepared steak, a baked potato, and fresh corn (the leftovers from Kim's birthday dinner) and enjoyed the meal at the table on the deck.

At around 7:00, I saw the couple returning from their walk. I didn’t have to remind them of my invitation because they came down on their own. I invited them inside, offered them samples of several things I had made over the past few days, and then packaged additional portions for them to take home.

They know my name, and they also knew Fran’s name. We have talked numerous times, yet somehow I still don’t recall ever being formally introduced . All I really know is that they are very kind, congenial, and caring people, and I thoroughly enjoy the time I spend talking with them.

By 7:19, I believed I had taken the final photograph of the evening.

The freshly cut grass looked beautiful beneath a gorgeous blue sky filled with long, feathery clouds.

After a day that began far too early and became filled with baking, culinary experimentation, beautiful weather, good food, neighborly kindness, and enjoyable conversation, there was nothing more I needed to accomplish.

I simply remained on the deck and took in the beauty of the evening for as long as I possibly could.

September 12, 2026

Saturday began early when I awoke at approximately 5:15 AM. By 6:00, I was looking through the patio doors at a sky that was still dark

but already showing evidence of considerable cloud cover. Everything appeared relatively dry, which surprised me because the humidity was at 94%. The temperature was 63°, with a forecasted high of 82° and a very light breeze coming from the southeast at approximately 2 mph.

Rain was predicted to arrive around 4:00 PM and continue until approximately 2:00 Sunday morning. I could only hope that the weather would hold long enough for my friend Bob and me to complete the installation of a man door in his garage.

Before leaving, I needed to gather the tools I thought we might require and pack some of my recently baked goodies for Bob and his wife, Barbara. They have always been extremely appreciative of my baking adventures, so I fairly certain the treats would be well received.

I once owned a mortising template designed specifically for installing door hinges, but for the life of me, I had no idea where it might be. I therefore planned to stop at a local home improvement center on my way to Bob’s house and purchase another one. Their website indicated that four were available, and I hoped the inventory count was accurate. If none were there, I knew I could cut the hinge mortises the old-fashioned way. It certainly isn’t rocket science, but it takes considerably longer.

At 6:21 AM, the sun had yet to rise above the horizon, but the morning’s low-lying clouds were already quite evident. The sky was beginning to take on soft violet and lavender tones, and I thought there was definite potential for a respectable sunrise. Unfortunately, I also knew that by the time the show began, I might be driving to Greensburg, inside the home improvement center, or setting up for the day’s project.

I left the house at approximately 7:00 AM, knowing that I was expected at Bob’s sometime between 8:00 and 8:30. As I was leaving, I caught the first glimpses of the sunrise and realized that it was developing into something worth photographing. During the first mile of my trip, several relatively unobstructed vantage points facing east caught my attention. I made a few brief stops and managed to capture the old haymaker breaking through the layered clouds in brilliant shades of orange and gold.

I then continued to the home improvement center, picked up the items I needed, and made my way to Bob’s house. When I arrived, it took him a little while to answer the door. His first words were, “You’re early.”

I reminded him that he had said 8:00 or 8:30 and that it was now 8:00, so by my calculations, I was right on time. He laughed, agreed, and went upstairs to put on his work clothes.

When he returned to the kitchen, he began examining the box of goodies I had brought, some of which needed to be refrigerated or frozen. Once everything was properly stored, we made our way into the garage, developed a plan of attack, and began replacing the door.

The installation proceeded pretty much as planned. There were a few challenges along the way, as there usually are with this type of project, but nothing we couldn’t overcome. We completed the installation without encountering too many serious difficulties.

Afterward, Bob took me to see his new house, and I was quite impressed with his new digs. One of the most impressive features was the view from the back of the house. Both the breakfast room and the deck face east and provide an incredible window overlooking the Laurel Ridge.

I told Bob that he would have the opportunity to witness some absolutely amazing sunrises from that vantage point. Even on cold, rainy, or otherwise uninviting mornings, he will be able to sit comfortably in his breakfast room with that magnificent vista directly in front of him. I must admit that I envy him for the opportunity.

After Bob showed me the remainder of the house, Barbara arrived with burgers and french fries for lunch. Apparently, they had planned in advance to purchase them from one of the Greensburg fire halls, which holds a burger-and-fries sale several times each year.

Whatever those burgers were called, I must admit that they were downright delicious. One of the things that made mine so memorable was the generous helping of sautéed onions covering it. The burger, onions, and bun were so flavorful that adding anything else never even entered my mind.

Shortly after we finished lunch, Bob and I returned to his old house. I loaded my tools into the car and began my trip home. Before leaving, I helped Bob load a pressure washer into his truck that I had lent him some time ago. I assumed he would follow shortly behind me and return it when I arrived home.

By the time I reached home, however, I was totally exhausted,downright beat. I settled into the living room recliner and was soon sound asleep. Bob didn’t arrive with the pressure washer until approximately 4:00 PM, and I only awakened because he called my cellphone to let me know that he would be at the house shortly.

The forecast had predicted rain at around 4:00, and for once it was almost perfectly accurate. Even before Bob arrived, I could hear thunder rumbling in the distance. He told me that a football game in Pittsburgh, approximately 20 miles northwest of us, had been delayed because of the approaching weather.

Just as Bob pulled into my driveway, the rain began. We managed to unload the pressure washer in time, and shortly after he left, the sky opened up. Heavy rain began falling while thunder roared in the background.

With the pressure washer safely returned and nothing else demanding my immediate attention, I went back to the recliner and fell asleep almost instantly. I didn’t awaken again until approximately 6:00 PM, and only because my daughter called.

When she asked what I was doing, I told her I had been sleeping in the recliner. She said she would let me return to my nap, and we ended our brief conversation. From where I was sitting, I could see through the living room and dining room to the patio doors. The rain was still falling intensely, and I decided that since there wasn’t much else I could do, I might just as well continue sleeping.

At approximately 11:00 PM, after considerable coaxing, I finally forced myself out of the recliner. I knew I needed to clean the coffee pot and prepare Sunday morning’s brew before going to bed, and I also wanted to make a few additions to my blog.

I went downstairs to the family room/office and turned on the computer. I then returned to the kitchen, cleaned the coffee pot, and prepared everything for the morning. By the time I sat down to reflect upon the day, it was already 12:06 Sunday morning.

Saturday had been a long and physically demanding day, but it was also a productive and enjoyable one. Bob and I successfully installed the garage door, I had an opportunity to see his beautiful new home, the three of us shared a memorable lunch, and I even managed to capture portions of the sunrise before the workday began.

Considering everything the day contained, my extended stay in the recliner was not only understandable, it was well earned.

September 13, 2026

Sunday began beneath a dark, gloomy and heavily overcast sky.

The deck was far too wet for my usual morning watch, so I remained indoors and used the uncooperative weather to my advantage. I completed several loads of laundry, folded everything and put it away, and spent some time working on a couple of computer projects I had been putting off.

My thoughts also returned to Fran and her many hospitalizations during the final ten years or more of her life. Those thoughts were more than likely triggered by the fact that on Saturday I had to drive within view of the hospital where she passed, on my way to Bobs house.

She absolutely loathed going to the hospital and repeatedly told me that she never wanted to leave this world from a hospital bed, she wanted to be at home. When she entered the hospital for what became the final time, neither of us could have known it would be her last admission. Within a day or two, however, it became apparent that I could no longer provide the level of care she required at home. I found myself remembering the difficult conversations we had before she slipped into an almost unconscious state. Even though I know I did all that I could for as long as I could, I still feel that my telling her that I could no longer provide the care she required may have been what finally caused her to just give up, her seemingly endless fight to keep on going.

My thoughts later wandered toward biscotti. From the time I was a small child, I can remember there almost always being biscotti in the house. Fran made her own, and it was quite good, but if she ever wrote down the recipe, I have yet to find it. After seeing how ridiculously expensive biscotti has become during my visits to the Italian marketplace, and developing a considerable hankering for some, I decided it may be time to try making my own.

By approximately 1:15 PM, the weather had improved enough for me to make my way onto the deck with minimal assistance from little T and a paper towel. It was 76° with 83% humidity and a light southwest breeze of about 4 mph. The transformation from the gloomy morning was remarkable, with brilliant blue skies, large billowing clouds and sunlight washing across the landscape.

Mother Nature also provided an unexpected opportunity for me to enjoy lunch outdoors. On my way to the garden to gather fresh lettuce, tomatoes and yellow peppers for my roast beef bagel, I noticed that the ground dwelling yellowjackets were still quite active. They were moving in and out of what have now become two rather large holes. After purchasing and using approximately ten cans of yellowjacket and hornet spray, their continued activity made it obvious that the ordinary long distance aerosol was not reaching the underground nest. I spent some time investigating foaming products designed specifically for ground nests, as well as the likely cost of professional treatment.

At around 2 PM, dense cloud cover began developing along the eastern horizon. To the north, the sky remained almost completely blue, while the southern sky contained a mixture of blue and low-lying feathery clouds.

The darker clouds appeared just as I was preparing to eat, and I briefly reconsidered taking lunch outdoors because I didn’t want to begin eating and then have to relocate everything if it started raining. I decided to gamble, and fortunately, I got lucky.

I enjoyed a roast beef sandwich dressed with garden lettuce, tomatoes and yellow peppers, along with mayonnaise and horseradish, all piled onto an everything bagel.

I topped off the plate with a very generous portion of kettle chips and enjoyed the entire meal on the deck without being chased indoors by the weather.

At around 5:38 PM, my good friend Bob from Greensburg and his wife, Barbara, departed after paying me a surprise visit. They had been visiting Bob’s sister and brother-in-law, who live approximately 10 to 12 miles from me, and because their return trip would take them close to my house, they called to ask whether I wanted some company. That was a rather odd question because I am always happy to have company, especially theirs.

We sat around the table on the deck and enjoyed a lovely visit filled with conversation. Bob and Barbara truly are remarkable people, kind, generous and giving. Bob also returned the block plane I had lent him during our work on Saturday and brought back the hat, I had accidentally left at his new house when we stopped there for lunch.

The weather couldn’t have been more accommodating while they were here. Because it was well past 3 PM, the deck was completely shaded, and a gentle breeze made sitting outdoors especially comfortable. Their visit was unfortunately brief, but I was extremely thankful for it nonetheless.

At around 7:45 PM, while still sitting on the deck, I realized that I hadn’t prepared anything for dinner. I finally made my way indoors to conjure up a reasonable facsimile of a meal and put a pot of water on the stove for pasta. Shortly afterward, I received a text from Neal asking whether he could stop by to collect the extra corn salsa I had promised him.

Neal mentioned that he was tutoring and expected to finish around 7 PM. Thinking he probably hadn’t eaten dinner, I decided to prepare enough food for two people in case he wanted to join me. By 7:45, however, he still hadn’t arrived, and I was becoming fairly hungry, so I prepared my own plate and carried it onto the deck.

My improvised dinner turned into a rather respectable plate of rigatoni with garlic, tomatoes, basil and peppers, accompanied by a large piece of Italian sausage and finished with a generous coating of grated cheese. I enjoyed it at the deck table with a cold drink and another freshly picked garden tomato sitting nearby.

As I finished eating, the sky became increasingly menacing. In one direction, a portion of the peaceful blue evening sky remained visible, while thick, darkening clouds were rapidly advancing from the opposite direction.

The wide panoramic view was especially dramatic, with warm, ominous light beneath the approaching clouds contrasting against the remaining strip of brilliant blue.

I photographed the changing sky before deciding it would be wise to return indoors.

After eating, I went back into the kitchen and began cleaning the dishes. While doing so, I heard a knock at the door and correctly assumed it was Neal. I invited him inside and explained that I had hoped he might join me for dinner, but because he hadn’t arrived, I had gone ahead and eaten. Fortunately, there was still plenty left.

I prepared a generous portion of the pasta for him, along with a large piece of Italian sausage and some peppers. In addition to the corn salsa he had come to collect, I gave him another blueberry muffin from the batch I had prepared Friday. He told me how sincerely he appreciated all the food I regularly shared with him.

While we were talking, I heard something unusual outside the patio doors and quickly realized that a tremendous downpour had begun. The rain was coming down in sheets, creating an almost monsoon like environment. Those threatening clouds I had photographed were clearly not making idle threats. Fortunately, the downpour didn’t last very long. I was also relieved that Neal had driven to my house instead of walking, so I didn’t have to worry about him making his way home through the rain.

Neal remained for approximately half an hour to 45 minutes, and we had quite an enjoyable conversation. I mentioned that I had been considering contacting the CADD instructor at the high school and asked whether Neal knew who that was or knew him personally. When he asked why, I explained the NAHB student competition held in Las Vegas each February. I thought the instructor and some of his students might be interested in the opportunity and perhaps in forming another team.

Neal left at around 8:30 PM and drove home. I finished cleaning the remaining dishes and prepared to make my way into the family room and office to begin posting the day’s events and photographs on my blog.

What began as a dark, dreary Sunday turned into a surprisingly productive, social and enjoyable day. I accomplished several neglected tasks, ate both lunch and dinner outdoors, received an unexpected visit from Bob and Barbara, spent time talking with Neal and even began exploring another possible connection to the NAHB student competition.

Mother Nature may have started the day in a rather disagreeable mood, but she ultimately provided far more outdoor time, companionship and photographic drama than I had anticipated.

September 14, 2026

I forced myself out of bed at around 6:30 this morning after going to bed near midnight. Although I had slept for approximately six and a half relatively undisturbed hours and probably accumulated another hour or two in the recliner yesterday afternoon, I still felt as though I could have used considerably more.

After making my way into the kitchen and grabbing my first cup of coffee, I opened the patio doors and was surprised by how cool the air felt. What did not surprise me was discovering the deck covered with pools of water. At 7:09 AM, it was 59° with 88% humidity and a rather brisk breeze coming from the north at approximately 6 mph. Obviously, the reluctant and somewhat groggy squeegee team would have to be rousted from its resting place before I could begin a respectable morning watch.

For the moment, however, another cup of coffee, some smooth jazz, and the cool morning air drifting through the screen door were sufficient. I had absolutely no plans for the day and no idea what it might bring.

At around 7:15, while standing inside the patio door with the screen closed, I heard a distant voice calling, “Good morning.” Once I determined the direction from which it was coming, I realized it was Neal on his way to work. I responded with a rather half-awakened good morning of my own, and he continued on his way.

The early cloud cover was beginning to break apart, creating the possibility of some worthwhile photographs. Soft peach, gold, and pink highlights gradually appeared against the blue-gray clouds, and within minutes the sky became increasingly dramatic. The old haymaker remained hidden at first, but he was illuminating the undersides of the clouds beautifully.

By 8:03, the squeegee team had reluctantly cleared enough moisture from the deck to permit me to begin a respectable morning watch. The sky had undergone a remarkable transformation. The clouds were quickly disappearing, the sun had cleared the trees, and the low morning light was turning the moisture on the grass into a field of gold.

At approximately 8:15, the sun reached an angle low enough to cast long, intriguing shadows through the deck railing.

The shadows created geometric patterns across the deck boards, while the sunlight passing through the nearby flowers and foliage made them appear to glow from within.

Droplets clinging to the leaves and blossoms sparkled in the warmth of the sun, and several of my photographs captured colorful lens flares that added an almost magical quality.

A check of the weather forecast showed mostly sunny skies, a high of approximately 70°, and wind gusts up to 10 mph. I had put on a fleece before supervising the squeegee team and briefly considered removing it. Although the sun felt quite warm on my skin, the surrounding air and occasional breeze told me it was not quite time to abandon the comfortable jacket.

By 8:48, the school-bus traffic had mostly ended and things began to quiet down. Unfortunately, no one had sent that particular memo to the construction crew working on the new stadium below the middle school. Heavy trucks soon began traveling past the house, interrupting the occasional moments of peace I was enjoying on the deck.

As I sat there with another cup of coffee, I began feeling somewhat guilty and antsy about being non productive, even though I was doing the hell out of being non productive. The increasing truck traffic seemed to be reminding me that the rest of the world had started its day and was doing something constructive. I decided that perhaps it was time to get off my ass and do the same.

I went into the kitchen with every intention of taking my first trip down Biscotti Lane, but before beginning, I decided a little nourishment was in order. I prepared a bowl of plain yogurt with mandarin oranges, chia seeds, and granola, reheated what remained of my coffee, and naturally returned to the deck to eat breakfast in the sunshine.

Once breakfast was finished, the biscotti experiment officially began. I lightly toasted sliced almonds at 350°

and prepared the dry and wet ingredients separately.

I hydrated the dried cranberries beforehand because those I purchase at the Italian market can sometimes be excessively chewy or even hard. I drained them thoroughly, wrapped them in paper towels, and removed as much moisture as possible, leaving them soft but not wet.

Because I had no fresh oranges available, I used orange extract rather than orange zest, along with vanilla and almond extracts. After combining the toasted almonds and cranberries with the remaining ingredients, I encountered the day’s first significant baking problem. The mixture was far too loose to shape into biscotti logs and looked more like cake batter than cookie dough.

The original recipe called for 2 cups, or 240 grams, of flour. I added another quarter cup, bringing the total to approximately 2¼ cups, or 270 grams. That substantially improved the consistency.

A wooden spoon would finally stand upright in the mixture. something it had not come close to doing before. The dough was still softer than I expected, so I refrigerated it for approximately 30 minutes.

I briefly wondered whether the extended time between combining the ingredients and baking might weaken the baking powder. Fortunately, the Clabber Girl baking powder I used was double, acting, meaning part of its reaction began when it became wet while the remainder would occur once exposed to the heat of the oven. Since biscotti require only a modest amount of rise, the refrigeration period did not appear to cause any difficulty.

While the dough chilled, I returned to the deck and continued enjoying what had become a spectacular September morning. I began considering how to transfer the sticky dough to the parchment lined baking sheet without creating a massive mess. I decided to use a large pastry bag without a tip, cutting an opening approximately three-quarters of an inch wide.

That experiment worked surprisingly well. The chilled dough passed through the bag with almost no effort, allowing me to pipe two logs onto the baking sheet and smooth them into shape. During the first bake at 325°, the logs spread somewhat more than I expected, but they remained separated and emerged looking like two broad, lightly golden loaves.

After allowing them to cool for approximately 15 minutes, I returned from the deck armed with a serrated knife and some concern that everything might crumble into a million pieces. Much to my delight, the loaves sliced almost perfectly. There was hardly a crumb left on the cutting board, and the interiors showed a good distribution of cranberries and toasted almonds.

I placed the pieces cut-side down on the parchment-lined baking sheet and returned them to a 300° oven for approximately 10 minutes. I then turned every piece over and baked them for another 10 minutes. Because I wanted a little more color, I gave them an additional five minutes before transferring them to a cooling rack.

The finished biscotti were evenly golden, crisp, and remarkably good. Quality control began with one of the end pieces and confirmed that the flavor was excellent even before the second bake had completely crisped them. Once fully finished and cooled, I considered the first batch a definite success.

I could not help wishing that Fran were here to enjoy them with me. I could imagine the smile on her face when she bit into one, followed by a comment such as, “That’s not the way I make mine, but they’re pretty good anyway.” After tasting the final result, I began thinking there was even a remote possibility that she might have reconsidered her own approach and done a little fine tuning, although I doubt she would have admitted that immediately.

I left part of the batch plain and dipped several other pieces into melted milk chocolate before sprinkling roughly chopped toasted almonds over the chocolate.

The garnish transformed them into something that looked as though it had come from a bakery. They were truly amazing even without the chocolate, but the decorated version created an entirely different experience.

Naturally, my brain immediately went into overdrive considering future varieties. Possibilities included white chocolate with macadamia nuts, dried blueberries with lemon zest, and sliced almonds with lemon zest and a white-chocolate garnish. I also considered hydrating the next batch of cranberries in amaretto rather than water. Fresh orange zest will definitely be included in the next cranberry orange batch because I believe it will provide a fresher, fuller orange flavor than extract alone.

I recorded the adjustments directly on the recipe, including the additional quarter cup of flour, the refrigeration period, and the successful use of the pastry bag. Today’s experiment therefore produced not only a successful batch but also a dependable starting point for future trips down Biscotti Lane.

Throughout the morning, I also noticed that ChatGPT’s response time was considerably slower than it had been previously. Several photographs took additional time to process, and there appeared to be at least one temporary connection problem. I wondered whether the constantly increasing interest in artificial intelligence and the growing number of people using it might also be placing additional demands on the system.

While all of this was happening, the weather continued improving. The morning began with dark clouds, cool air, and a deck covered with water, but by midday the sky had become an almost uninterrupted deep blue. The sun was brilliant, the grass was intensely green, and only a few small white clouds drifted overhead. With the umbrella open and providing shade, the deck became an ideal place to enjoy coffee between stages of biscotti production.

Later in the afternoon, I texted Neal and invited him to join me for burgers and hot dogs on the deck. He responded that he would be happy to come and expected to arrive between 6:15 and 6:30.

By 6:18, conditions were almost perfect for outdoor dining. The sun had moved to the opposite side of the house, leaving the deck in shade.

The temperature had cooled somewhat, the breeze had nearly disappeared, and the air remained warm enough to be comfortable in a sweatshirt.

I decided not to put the burgers on the grill until Neal arrived in case he was detained. There is nothing worse than an overcooked burger. I prefer mine quite pink in the middle, although I recognize that not everyone shares that preference.

Neal arrived at approximately 6:30, and we enjoyed grilled burgers with grilled onions and garden tomatoes, hot dogs with chili sauce, baked beans, roasted peppers, and some of the leftover corn salsa. We finished dinner with a couple of the biscotti I had prepared earlier.

As always, it was wonderful to have adult company and someone to talk with besides myself. The meal, conversation, beautiful weather, and opportunity to sit together on the deck made for a thoroughly enjoyable evening.

Sometime afterward, I settled into the recliner and fell into a lengthy nap. Apparently, I awakened several times but simply could not persuade myself to get out of the chair because I was too darn tired. When I finally woke more fully, it was already 1:00 Tuesday morning.

This late night, or technically early morning blogging routine is clearly not working for me. At this hour, I am simply not functioning well enough to write or accomplish much of anything. I need to develop a better plan for preparing my blog entries earlier in the day rather than repeatedly trying to reconstruct everything after midnight.

Despite that realization, Monday turned out to be a remarkable day. It began with cool air, pools of water, and no plans whatsoever. It developed into a beautiful sunrise, an almost flawless September afternoon, a successful first journey down Biscotti Lane, and an enjoyable dinner with a good friend.

For a day that began without direction, it certainly managed to find its way.

September 15, 2026

My morning began shortly after 7:00 AM when I opened my eyes and noticed that the bedroom was already flooded with morning light. I quickly pulled back the curtain and realized there was the potential for a rather interesting sunrise. With that thought in mind, I didn’t even bother going into the bathroom to throw some water on my face. I quickly put on some clothes and dashed toward the patio doors.

As the morning unfolded, I was certainly glad I had moved so quickly.

By 7:13 AM, I had taken my usual position at the table on the deck. The accumulation of morning dew was far beyond anything tolerable for a respectable morning watch, so I had to awaken little T from a sound sleep beneath the kitchen sink. I almost felt guilty disturbing the little fellow, but in situations like that, you have to do what you have to do.

It was 52 degrees with 85 percent humidity and a light wind from the southeast at approximately five miles per hour. According to the forecast, the temperature was expected to reach 81 degrees beneath mostly sunny skies. It appeared that another lovely September day was ahead of me.

Sign me up...

At approximately 7:20 AM, Neal passed by on his way to school. We had a brief conversation during which he thanked me again for dinner the previous evening. He said he normally has a rather robust snack sometime after dinner, but there had been no need for one the night before. I got a chuckle out of that, told him he was quite welcome, and assured him we would do it again sometime soon.

Meanwhile, the sunrise continued changing by the minute. Shifting patterns of light were backed by quite a palette of colors, giving me plenty of reasons to move around the deck trying to capture a few worthwhile photographs.

By 7:45 AM, it had become apparent that the colorful performance was coming to an end.

As I prepared to return indoors, I couldn’t help noticing how much dew remained on the deck. My movements from the chair to various vantage points were clearly documented by the trail of footprints I had created while trotting back and forth with my camera.

Something else became quite evident during the morning watch. The sunrise had moved noticeably south compared with its position earlier in the spring and summer. As far as I could remember, this was the first morning I had watched the sun make its debut to the right, or south, of the shed behind the large pine tree at the back of the property. With the shed and pine providing permanent reference points, there was no mistaking the shift.

Fall and winter were definitely on their way.

Later in the morning, I headed out to do some shopping and eventually visited three different markets. I didn’t go to three stores because I particularly wanted to, I was searching for macadamia nuts for a possible batch of white chocolate macadamia nut biscotti. Unfortunately, none of the three markets had them, so that particular experiment will have to wait for another day.

I was also searching for dried blueberries but couldn’t find those either. I did, however, discover a package containing dried cranberries, blueberries, and lemon, which immediately suggested another possible biscotti combination. I also purchased shelled pistachios, pecans, soft caramels, and several other ingredients for future baking experiments.

While I was out, I picked up fresh flowers for Fran’s dining room memorial to replace the ones that were beginning to look rather shabby. Those flowers were certainly more important than the missing macadamia nuts.

My cellphone rang while I was shopping in one of the markets, and it was my daughter. I explained that I was out and about and would call her after I returned home. I arrived home at around noon, put away all my purchases, called her back, and we talked for approximately 45 minutes.

By 1:30 PM, I was feeling rather tired, so I moved outside to the umbrella-covered table on the deck with another cup of coffee.

I hoped the fresh air might provide enough inspiration to accomplish something else. The biscotti I had prepared the previous day were disappearing at a rather alarming rate, although the principal suspect had repeatedly been observed standing near the container with a cup of coffee. Considering how appetizing I found them, the remaining biscotti appeared to be virtually indefensible.

After resting for a while, I returned to the kitchen and began another batch. I prepared cranberry-and-almond biscotti, adding orange zest and soaking the cranberries in a mixture of Amaretto and cognac. After draining the cranberries so they wouldn’t add too much moisture to the dough, I collected the remaining liquid in a shot glass. Throwing it away seemed terribly wasteful, and I can report that it went down quite smoothly.

Once the dough was mixed, I placed it in the refrigerator to chill. At around 3:10 PM, I returned to the deck to soak up some afternoon sunshine and arrived just in time to see and hear the middle school buses heading off to the races.

The commotion reminded me of a Broadway production, although instead of the roar of the greasepaint and the smell of the crowd, it was more like the roar of the engines and the smell of the exhaust. My timing couldn’t have been more precise, if I had deliberately wanted to experience every bit of the afternoon school dismissal production.

While sitting on the deck, I noticed someone walking toward the house in the distance. He looked somewhat like Neal, but I initially dismissed that possibility because he ordinarily doesn’t leave school that early. As he came closer and called out, “Hi, Tony. How are you doing?” I realized it was indeed Neal.

I asked whether he had received an early dismissal, and he laughed and explained that he leaves early whenever there is a cross-country meet because he is one of the coaches. We spoke only briefly because he was operating on a fairly tight schedule.

At approximately 3:48 PM, I used a piping bag once again to form the chilled biscotti dough into two logs. The piping bag made handling the sticky dough considerably easier than trying to shape it entirely by hand. I placed the logs into a 325-degree oven and set the timer for approximately 30 minutes.

After the middle school buses passed, followed by the high school buses, I made another attempt to enjoy some peace and quiet on the deck. Unfortunately, nobody had sent a memo to the construction crew working on the new stadium project.

Before long, a large dump truck came rumbling past the house, providing an unexpected encore after the afternoon school-bus performance.

At around 4:11 PM, I heard a strange noise coming from the kitchen. For a moment, I couldn’t imagine what it was. Then it dawned on me that the oven timer was going off.

When I opened the oven and checked the biscotti logs, they looked quite good.

They were just beginning to turn golden and felt firm in the center, so I removed them and placed them on the kitchen counter to cool. Then they sat waiting to be sliced, and I sat waiting for them to become cool enough to slice.

Once they were ready, I cut the logs into individual pieces and completed the second baking.

Later, I dipped approximately half of the finished biscotti in chocolate and coated the chocolate with crushed almonds.

The remaining pieces were left plain for anyone who might prefer them that way.

Throughout the afternoon, I also gave considerable thought to future flavor combinations. One possibility is a turtle style biscotti using pecans and caramel, with each finished piece dipped partly in chocolate and sprinkled with additional chopped pecans. Because soft caramel might become hard during the double baking, another option would be to build the pecans into the biscotti and add the caramel afterward as a drizzle.

The package of dried cranberries, blueberries, and lemon also opened another promising avenue. Almonds would work, but after considering the pecans, walnuts, and pistachios I had available, the pistachios seemed like the most interesting choice. The berries, lemon, and green pistachios should make a flavorful and colorful combination, especially if the finished biscotti are dipped in white chocolate and sprinkled with additional chopped pistachios. That idea may have moved rather quickly from the experimental list to the future-production schedule.

At 7:42 PM, after finishing the chocolate and almond coating, I made my final attempt to find some peace and solitude on the deck. Although there was still enough light to see across the backyard, the traffic had finally diminished. The buses, construction trucks, and other commotion had disappeared, leaving behind the sounds of silence interrupted only by a few crickets here and there.

After several unsuccessful attempts throughout the afternoon, I had finally found the quiet I had been seeking. From the colorful sunrise and dew covered deck to three markets, fresh flowers for Fran, a conversation with my daughter, another batch of biscotti, school buses, Neal’s unexpected early appearance, stadium construction traffic, and finally a peaceful evening, it had been a rather full September day.

Hopefully, I can complete my blog entries earlier this evening rather than finding myself awake during the early morning hours, trying to put my head on straight and remember everything I did throughout the day.