Month: July 2021

Mystery Solved – Day 982

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment
Wildfire Sunset #1 – Photo: L. Weikel

Mystery Solved

It didn’t take long for me to figure out why the moon was so uncharacteristically orange past midnight last night.  All I had to do was read the Air Quality Alert from The Weather Channel this morning. Mystery solved.

Indeed, the Delaware Valley Regional Planning Commission issued a “code orange” air quality alert for tomorrow, too. I know they weren’t referring to the shade of the moon last night (and tonight), nor the extremely Tatooine-like appearance of the sun as it set tonight.

Welcome to proof of how we’re all related on this planet. Smoke from the wildfires in Canada and the western states continues to take its toll across the United States.

Photo: L. Weikel

No Filter, No Edits

The photos I’m including in tonight’s post are exactly the way the sun appeared to my naked eye, although I must admit, the ring around it was not as obvious, since I didn’t gaze directly at and into the sun.

This is real – Photo: L. Weikel

And the photo at the end of this post is of the moon tonight, only a few minutes ago. She’s an even darker shade of orange than last night.

I guess the only thing we can do at this moment (besides watch Congress continue to screw around and fail us all by sabotaging the infrastructure bill that could finally start to do something substantive about addressing climate change) is enjoy the beauty of the sunrises and sunsets.

Take pretty photos of the end days. Or if not the end days, the last days in which it is safe for us to spend time outside without compromising our respiratory systems.

I’m worried. And angry. No mystery there.

Moon After Midnight – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-129)

Just Some Critter – Day 981

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment
Oddly Orange Waxing Gibbous Moon (extended exposure) – Photo: L. Weikel

Just Some Critter

I’m sitting here on my couch, laptop at the ready. Our thick wooden front door is open, leaving only a screen between the elements and me. Curiously, at least at this very moment, the only sound I hear is the intermittent buzz of a single insect. It’s not even a cricket. Just some critter hanging around the hostas or maybe sitting on a leaf or nestled in a crevice of our shagbark hickory.

Perhaps I’m noticing that the only sound is this single random buzzer because I was just outside trying to capture the eerie creamsicle-colored beauty of the waxing gibbous moon. I definitely wasn’t planning on writing about the moon tonight. In fact, I was pretty sure I was going to share photos of a hawk that screeched at us relentlessly for a good ten minutes on our walk last night.

But as I was getting the photos in order, my eye caught sight of something bright and colorful peering in at me through the living room window. At first I assumed it was a lightning bug. It’s kind of weird how often I see a lightning bug at the very same spot, blinking at me as it clings to the screen. It can’t be the same bug, either – I see one in the same spot year after year. I can’t explain it.

But it wasn’t a lightning bug. It was the moon – and a noticeably orange one at that.

Can’t Capture It

I’m sorry to say that no matter how hard I tried, I failed to capture both the rich pumpkin hue and the surprisingly large appearance of her this evening. It was the color that was most surprising, though. It’s startling to see so much orange when she’s so high in the sky.

While I was standing outside on the lawn in the dark, fiddling with my iPhone, I was at first serenaded by an army of bullfrogs. (Yes, that’s the technical name for a bunch of frogs.) Their voices were impressive – and in the blackness of the night, it was easy to imagine them each weighing a good 35 pounds or so.

But then, right while I was attempting to photograph the moon, my most treasured neighbors called out to me. All of a sudden the three donkeys that now graze on the hill behind our barn let loose with their otherworldly sand people (a la Star Wars) sounding voices. (Click the links – the donkeys really do sound like that.) I struggle to express how much joy their noisy, bizarre, cacophonic iterations bring me.

And of course by the time I switched to a mode in which I could record them all three of them abruptly went mute. I swear they were messing with me.

Weird – at this very moment, even the scritchy noise of the bug that’s not a cricket has stopped. Only silence so profound that I can hear faint ringing in my ears prevails.

Waxing Gibbous Moon (regular exposure) – Photo: L. Weikel

Disappointment – Day 980

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment
Where are they? – Photo: L. Weikel

Disappointment

Sometimes disappointment creeps up on us. It stealthily tiptoes up behind us and jumps out of the bushes when we’re least expecting it. And sometimes we see it coming a mile away – maybe even miles and miles away – but we hope against hope that we’re wrong.

It seems to me there’s more than our share of disappointment in the air at the moment. From witnessing the dramatic shift in the way our system of government conducts itself (or not) to those in power failing to be held accountable for egregious behavior. It’s a disappointment that consequences seem to be visited only upon regular citizens. Masterminds and master manipulators need not worry for a moment. All will be well. Nothing will change in their lives.

Just Weather

And then there’s the disappointment we sentient beings experience when we take a step back and honestly look at the climate alterations that are becoming more and more obvious. How long will it take before those living out west start to realize this is their ‘new normal?’ Yet another ‘heat dome’ settling in over our mostly western states and parts of Canada (the fourth in five weeks!), bringing Idaho of all places their 20th consecutive day reaching 100 degrees or more.

Of course, we all know it’s just weather. It’s certainly not climate change. And even if the climate is changing, it’s not our fault. And since it’s not our fault then we don’t – indeed, shouldn’t – do anything to mitigate it. Thus, we mustn’t reduce or eliminate our use of fossil fuels because (a) China might not do it; and (b) it’s not our fault.

It’s all about blame. And money. And refusing to take responsibility. Who cares if we can’t breathe? Or that we have no water to drink?  Most people (in this country, at least) are sure, deep down, that somebody will take care of us. Somebody will ‘save’ us. And they will, maybe – for a price.

Yeah, that ‘rugged individualism’ looks a lot different when it hits your home. It’s a disappointment people can’t see the truth of that.

Little Things, Too

And then there are the small disappointments in our lives. The personal ones. Witnessing people we know and love refusing to take precautions to keep themselves (and all of us) healthy. Listening to justifications that make no sense because they’re not grounded in reality. Wanting to find common ground again because we care enough to desire a conversation – but finding no traction anywhere anymore.

Or at a very basic level, just wishing we could see our besties again – and having them not show up anymore. Spartacus experienced that profoundly on our walk today, which you can see reflected in these photos.

We haven’t had a chance to take our walk-around (4 mile trek) in several days. It’s just been ‘too damn hot’ – or too rainy. But today we were able to take that longer route and Spartacus was palpably delighted, straining at his harness, yearning to see his ‘buds’ – which I’m not sure is a friendship or more a smack-talking hound fest. Either way, it gets Spart’s adrenalin pumping and he loves his wolfhound neighbors.

Spartacus was the embodiment of disappointment when not a wolfhound was to be seen tearing across the fields toward us, barking in a frenzy of terror-inducing menace. We’ll have to try again tomorrow.

The Embodiment of Disappointment – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-131)

Rebirth – Day 979

Posted on by Lisa Weikel 2 Comments
Bat Front Approaching – Photo: L.Weikel

Rebirth

It just so happens my Medicine Card* ‘pick’ for the day today was Bat/Armadillo. Simply stated, Bat is often associated with the cycle of birth, death, and rebirth. The single key word given for Bat in the book that accompanies the Medicine Cards is ‘rebirth.’ But truth be told, no one ever gets to rebirth without first experiencing ‘death.’ And that’s simply not a truth our culture feels comfortable acknowledging or accepting.

The fact that Bat showed up for me today felt affirming, to be honest. I feel surrounded by messages and signs of impending death or the crumbling of systems, norms, traditions, and foundations at not only personal but also cultural, systemic, and global levels.

Yeah, I’ve written periodically about the ‘theme’ of this year (2021) being tearing down the old structures and foundations in order to usher in radical transformation. Mostly I’ve addressed this in terms of how this is reflected in the stars (technically, the planets). Specifically, I’ve suggested that Saturn ‘squaring’ Uranus three times this year is the ‘tell’ for this cataclysmic shifting taking place on our planet and in our lives.

I’m not saying the movement of these planets and the way they’re aspecting each other is causing this to happen here on Earth. But perhaps the adage ‘as above, so below’ plays a role here.

Patterns, Sequences, and Harmonies

I’m suggesting that the movement of these huge outer planets is reflecting an energetic interaction or pattern that’s playing out on many levels of magnitude, right down to the microscopic, here on Earth. “From the macrocosm to the microcosm,” as they say. My approach to all of this is that the Universe provides us with a vast array of roadmaps and suggested operating procedures to help us navigate through our lives and through the millennia.

So when those who study the movements taking place within our solar system suggest that the underpinnings of many of our institutions and beliefs are going to crumble or be destroyed and replaced with concepts or approaches that feel like radical transformations, like ‘lightning bolts out of the blue,’ we might want to stop for a second. Look around. Pay attention.

What’s happening all around us? Fundamental concepts are being shredded. Institutions we thought inviolable are being violated. And on a personal level, perhaps, beliefs and relationships we thought were true and forever are also struck by lightning and either shattered or energized in a whole new way.

In fact, we might even want to consider whether the ‘foundation’ of pooh-poohing systems of study such as astrology needs to be torn down and replaced with an open-minded willingness to consider there just might be something to these recurring patterns.

Bats, Death, and Rebirth

It’s time to publish this post and I feel like I’m only scratching the surface of my contemplations. Late this afternoon I was reminded that I’d picked Bat today when I saw this huge one looming on the horizon. This Bat brought torrential rains, flooding, and a clearing of the way for something new.

Perspective on the Bat Front – Photo: L.Weikel

*Affiliate link

(T-132)

Fair Warning – Day 978

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment
Stars – Photo: L. Weikel

Fair Warning

After writing 977 consecutive posts for public consumption, I notice a couple idiosyncracies about myself. For instance, I realize I just might have a few ‘go-to’ topics that consistently pique my interest. With this in mind, I consider it a service that I provide you with ‘fair warning’ this evening of the approach of an event that’s one of my favorite experiences of the summer – every summer.

The Perseids Are Coming

Yes! I’m a big fan of so-called ‘shooting stars.’ My favorites are the Perseids. And actually – technically – they’re here already. Even more accurately, the Earth started passing through the debris-filled tail of comet 109PSwift-Tuttle on July 14th and will continue to do so from now until August 24th.

The most active evenings for maximum oohs and aahs as we stare into the cosmos will be the nights of August 12th-13th. There’s a chance we could witness 100 ‘shooting stars’ per hour at the peak of the Perseids. And lucky for us, the moon will only be waxing at that time – so her brightness shouldn’t drown out our ability to catch them streaking across the sky.

My reason for writing about them tonight is two-fold: First, there’s a good chance you’ll see some (maybe one or two – possibly more) brilliant streaks across the sky if you look up tonight. And knowing when and where to look is a major factor to meeting success! Second, it’s helpful to cultivate a love of star-walking in the evening now. That way, by the time the most active evenings arrive, you’ll have a routine in place and be able to jump right in (or lay right down) to enjoy the show.

Personal Sweetness

The Perseids are also my favorite light show because they always peak on our son Karl’s birthday. Even before he was a glint in my eye, I knew these particular meteor showers would always hold special significance to me when I watched them from the beach of an island off the coast of the former Yugoslavia (now Croatia). I was only 18 then, but the magic of that entire experience will never leave my bones.

I see that I’ve waxed rhapsodic over my beloved Perseids for two years now (of course), here, here, and here. It’s doubtful I’ll ever stop writing about them and the effect they have on my sense of place in the Universe. Extolling the benefits of immersing ourselves in one-on-one encounters with the natural world feels like one of the best ways I can honor the memory of my son.

If you haven’t yet given yourself the experience of witnessing miniscule particles streaking through our atmosphere and creating fireballs of light that generate spontaneous gasps of delight, it’s time. There’s something both profoundly inspiring and humbling to realize tiny specks of dust can create huge fireballs blazing across the sky. Doesn’t it make you wonder even for a moment what we might be capable of creating?

It’s moments like these that have the potential to remain in our hearts long after the television shows, card games, and movies have long since faded into oblivion.

Practice. Get ready. They’ll be here in droves by mid-August.

Photo: travelandleisure.com

(T-134)

Green Again – Day 977

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment
Tributary to a Tributary to Tinicum Creek – Photo: L. Weikel

Green Again

My post last night was ‘hot,’ I know. It’s upsetting to contemplate just how out of balance Earth’s climate is at the moment and how much worse it may become in a very short period of time. As a result, I’m proffering this collection of thoughts and photos to counter the images of a burning planet from last night’s post and to bookend it with the cooler, if not also troubling, content of the post from the night before last. In short, I’m back to green again.

My walk the other day along a secluded and seldom-traveled road that meanders along the haphazard twists and turns of a creek bed was deeply restorative. It’s hard not to feel the juiciness of life being replenished when surrounded by so many shades of emerald, lime, and forest green.

The burble of water tumbling over a rocky streambed comforts me and brings a deep sigh of peace to my soul. I probably don’t need to tell you, those of you who’ve stuck with me on this 1111 Devotion journey, the number of times I’ve been consoled by the creeks that surround my home (but especially, of course, my beloved Tohickon). I doubt if I can ever express my gratitude for ‘life’ leading us to this particular place to raise our sons and cultivate our marriage.

Rocks and Moss – Photo: L. Weikel

A Pause

I’m tempted to take this post in a direction I wasn’t intending when I began writing this evening. That would be the direction of railing against fracking and the intrusion of pipelines near and through the land I love so much both here where I live and also in Northampton County and across the Lenape Sipu (Delaware River) in Hunterdon County, New Jersey.

The devastation to our natural habitats by companies feeding the climate change that’s resulting in unprecedented flooding, wildfires, and drought is supported by the highest court in the land. That’s hard to accept.

Those very same forces are demanding that we return to the Jim Crow era of our country’s history.

But perhaps I should just go back to taking a pause from it all. Let’s take a moment instead to revel in the simple, abundant beauty of the many shades of green in our world.

Mosses close-up – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-135)

Cooked – Day 976

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment
On Fire – Photo: L. Weikel

Cooked

In contrast to the emerald wonderland and water, water everywhere that we’re (for the most part) lucky to have here on the East Coast, conditions couldn’t be more dire elsewhere. Indeed, the real truth is that right here in our own country, we’re cooked.

It’s hard to miss the wildfires that are raging out of control in the west. Right now, in addition to the extraordinary heat domes that are trapping our brothers and sisters under oppressive, day-after-day temperatures of over 100 degrees, there are over 700 more wildfires already being fought this year than there were at this time last year.

By Far the Worst

But by far the worst (well, I guess that’s debatable – especially if its your home that’s been razed by an inferno), is the fact that millions of sea creatures off the Pacific Northwest coast were literally turned into a global-sized clambake. It’s disgusting and tragic, but the effect of the heat dome that killed so many people in Oregon about ten days ago also killed millions – perhaps up to a billion – sea creatures as well.

And just today, I read an article that warns that Chinook salmon are literally in danger of extinction as a result of the heat waves occurring out west right now. The temperature of the Sacramento River has become so warm that the salmon are dying before they can get back to their spawning grounds.

Think about this: they’re all dying before they can reproduce. This isn’t some gradual die-off as these creatures ingest pesticides or battle other human-produced challenges to their lives. This is a drastic, all-at-once event. Not only will it radically impact indigenous people who rely on these salmon for much of their economy (and food) but also our nation and beyond, both for their food source and their part in the overall ecosystem.

And that doesn’t even include the simple grievous horror of losing these fish forever.

Our House Is On Fire

Our planet is out of balance. What is it going to take before our representatives, who have the power to enact sweeping and essential changes to the way our country deals with these existential threats, stop dithering and start facing climate change head-on? What’s it going to take before we the people open our eyes and wake the hell up?

We are facing some truly enormous threats as a country and as a planet. The time for denial and lies must end immediately. Perhaps a few very rich, very powerful people will be able to launch themselves into space when the Earth becomes uninhabitable. Yippee for them.

But the rest of us? If we don’t seize control over where we’re headed and demand meaningful and dramatic change now? We’re cooked.

Eye of the Fire – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-135)

Green – Day 975

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment
Ferns of Every Stripe – Photo: L.Weikel

Green

I realized again today just how much green inundates our environment. Especially with the wildfires rampaging out of control out west again, it feels like a gross indulgence. Instead of feeling guilty about how much water we have, though, we’re trying to open our eyes, and our hearts, and truly be appreciative of this natural resource’s abundance around us.

There is a portion of lower Bucks County, though, that’s almost certainly not appreciating the over-abundance of water that visited in the form of some torrential rain late yesterday afternoon. The meteorologists are categorizing this as a 100 year flood – but I have a sense we’ll be seeing another just like it, or worse, within the next few years; perhaps even before this summer is over. It’s scary. And expensive – both emotionally and of course financially.

Green & Lightning Bugs – Photo: L.Weikel

Appreciate the Beauty

While we can, for who knows how long we’ll have the benefit of all this moisture coming our way, we need to revel in the greenery. It sure beats having our yards become dirt and everything we plant crumble into dry oblivion.

Speaking of beauty, though – I must admit, this stricture against feeding our birds is torturous. I hear them singing and calling in the trees and within the thickets surrounding our house. They really are wondering what’s up. Even the hawks are wondering why the community is in lockdown and there’s no fast-food joints operating anymore.

To be honest, I think the hawks have been the most vociferous in the past few days. Hawk is having no trouble delivering its message: Feed us! You’re disrupting our entire community here!

Speaking of Food (Again)

I just had to add a photo of the kale I massaged earlier today. This batch was obviously made with green and red grapes instead of strawberries. It was delectable.

Freshly Massaged Kale – with grapes this time – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-136)

Bunnies and Bugs – Day 974

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment
Chocolate? Or Just Striking a Classic Pose? – Photo: L. Weikel

Bunnies and Bugs

The last few days have yielded such an abundant array of magical encounters with insects and animals that it’s hard to choose which photos I want to share. I’m excited that I managed to get a few photos of lightning bugs as they emerged from long field grasses at twilight. And the evening before, just slightly earlier in the evening, a bunny could’ve been the model for chocolate Easter Bunnies worldwide. Bunnies and bugs, an unbeatable pair.

Every now and then you can’t go wrong by taking a walk well after sundown but before all the light disappears. The temptation to do so increases exponentially when we’re enduring day after day of summer heat and, worse, humidity that can bring you to your knees.

Spartacus and I took our daily constitutional just after 8:00 p.m. last night and our efforts were amply rewarded.

Lightning Bugs Frolicking – Photo: L. Weikel

Reprieve From the Heat

Walking well after sundown was the only way to avoid flirting with heat-related complications. As the day unfolded, neither Spartacus nor I felt like keeling over, yet we knew it was a possibility. The air became so hot and close in the late afternoon that even I had to abandon my beloved porch. This was not a defeat I take lightly.

Besides the gift of a complete lack of traffic, walking later treated us to a delightful array of night sounds, primarily comprised of tree frogs, bull frogs, crickets, and catbirds. And as I mentioned above, the lightning bugs were out in full force, rising from their hiding places deep within the crosshatch at the base of the field grasses.

The batch we saw last night seemed to consist of a variety of lightning bug society. There were the quick flashers and the long zippers, trailing their names across the sky like sparklers. Some abdomens sported bold statements  – akin to klieg lights – while others seemed to barely generate any wattage at all.

I’ll be curious to see how well the photo I’m placing below is able to be seen once its published. As it shows up on my laptop, there’s a distinctive quality to it that makes it look far more like a painting than a photo. It delights me – and I hope it translates onto your screen.

Annual Urge

I’m always agog by the magic of walking in the evening. It’s almost as if I forget the loveliness of the experience, in spite of it engaging virtually every one of my senses.

Consider this my annual entreaty to each of you to give yourself the gift of an evening stroll at least once this summer. I know it’s hard to drag yourself outside once the sun is down and you’ve settled into your living room’s comfy spots. But I guarantee you will hold in your heart forever the mystical beauty of watching lightning bugs rise up and play.

Unedited and unfiltered – lightning bugs – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-137)

Massaged Kale – Day 973

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment
Massaged Kale* – Photo: L. Weikel

Massaged Kale

In yesterday’s blog I referenced my absolute favorite way to eat kale. Actually, aside from the extremely rare (i.e., maybe once a year) impulse-adds to a stew or a stir-fry, massaged kale is the only way I prepare this prolific leafy green vegetable.

I think I first saw the recipe for massaged kale on Facebook. I’m pretty sure I’d never eaten kale before. There’s no doubt in my mind that I never even once ate it when I was growing up. We were mostly an iceberg lettuce kind of family – albeit I was usually in charge of ‘making the salad,’ and I’d cut up tomatoes, cucumbers, and onions if we had them.

It never even occurred to me, growing up, that there were any other types of lettuce beside iceberg. Surely I must’ve seen it in the grocery store.

And to think I grew up on a farm.

Hang On

Before you get all indignant and castigate my parents for being the worst farmers ever, I need to clarify: they weren’t farmers. We lived on a dairy farm. And that’s not even completely accurate, as no milking took place there. Our stone farmhouse was bordered by acres and acres of fenced-in pasture where heifers roamed. Yup. I grew up on a farm surrounded with teenage cows.

My father was a salesman for Bethlehem Steel and my mother was a librarian. And they both grew up in a suburb of Boston.

And when I was growing up in the ‘60s and ‘70s, there were no farmers’ markets teeming with fresh produce. It was cool to buy everything canned – or I guess maybe frozen occasionally, too. Bird’s Eye frozen vegetables. Yeah. I remember those little freezer bricks.

Now that I’m thinking about fresh vegetables, though…there was nothing that could compare to eating peas fresh off the vine in my best friend Chris’s grandfather’s garden. We’d just stand there, picking them off the vine, compulsively zipping them open and stripping the sweet, pearl-shaped treasures into our mouths with our teeth. Oh, yum.

Shoo-shoo grew spectacular vegetables, the most memorable to me being those peas and a variety of tomatoes. (I can just hear him now in his thick Italian accent, saying “Tomat!” and gesturing with his immaculate, calloused hands and a big grin on his face.) I think he wanted us to pick them – not eat them. Get to work. Earn our keep.

Back to the Kale

When I saw the recipe for Massaged Kale on FB, I had no preconceived distaste for kale lurking on my palate. Perhaps that made it easier for me try the recipe in the first place. I have to admit, the taste of just plain old steamed kale doesn’t do a lot for me. I don’t even like the smell of it. So yeah, my kale innocence was probably a boon. So for those of you who are kale cynics, I urge you to pretend you’ve never had it before.

The recipe itself couldn’t be simpler:

I like to use a good pound of kale. (That looks like a lot but trust me on this.) Strip the leaves from the main stalks using a large sharp knife. Once you’ve stripped the whole pound of kale, compost the stems – unless you’re a fanatic and make broth out of it or something. (I’m sure many of you out there would do more than just compost, but hey – we all have our limitations.)

Rip apart the pile of stripped leaves and put the pieces into a big salad or mixing bowl – the bigger the better. You’ll probably have to strip and rip several piles. It doesn’t hurt to squeeze them a bit as you’re ripping them, too. Every effort to break down the cellular structure of the kale benefits you in the long run. This is the part of the recipe that takes the longest.

Your bowl will probably be brimming with shredded kale leaves. Dress it liberally with olive oil: a good long drizzle in a couple of circles. Add maybe a tablespoon of sea salt – I like to lightly sprinkle the coarse size. And then add the juice of a whole fresh lemon.

Next is the best part: dive in and squeeze, kneed, and massage (hence the name) that kale. Do not take no for an answer. Pretend that kale represents your shoulders and give that green stuff some serious tough love.

You’ll be amazed at how quickly it becomes tame! That big puffy stuff that felt a bit stiff and unyielding and almost overflowed its bowl turns a richer, darker color and breaks down into a totally different and oddly compliant creature.

The final delectable addition is your choice: I like to add at least a good bunch of either white or red grapes sliced in half. Another favorite is at least a cup of sliced strawberries.  I’ve also occasionally used blueberries, although I prefer either grapes or strawberries.

Delicious

I’d like to note that I’ve massaged every type of kale I’ve encountered – both at the CSA and at the grocery store – and it all responds to my loving but assertive touch. I can’t recommend strongly enough that you really let yourself go on this – use it as a therapeutic tool just as so many kneed dough for bread. The more compliant your kale, the more delicious it tastes.

If you have any leftover, you may need to add more lemon juice the next day. (I tend to like my massaged kale tart (lemon juice), savory (sea salt), and sweet (grapes or strawberries). The mélange of flavors just floats my boat.

I hope it does yours, too. Try it!

*To be fair, this is a photo I took a few weeks ago to herald my first batch of the season. I didn’t make any this weekend, so I didn’t have a ‘more beautiful’ photo to share. This was just a random one I took to send to my kids, who all profess to love it…

(T-138)