Salty

Heidi's parents invited us to a salt cave experience this afternoon.

Touted for improving respiratory health, anti-inflammation, and general relaxation, we were surprised that Gary and Louise wanted to go, but we were definitely along for the ride. Upon entering the unassuming strip mall shop front, dim lights, soothing music, and pleasant incense met us. We had to sign a few waivers and acknowledge a page of rules and disclaimers, but even the paperwork was not really a buzz-kill. The place was welcoming in an artificial Disney sort of way, and staring at the heavy door guarding the entrance to the faux cave, I suggested an escape room for our next activity.

When three blissed-out people in their 70s floated out and proceeded to make follow-up appointments, I was definitely intrigued, and craning my neck to catch a glimpse inside, I was more than ready to take my foot-protected self right into the cave. Our turn came soon enough, and after picking our way across a beach of loose salt and settling ourselves into zero gravity lawn chairs, we
listened to the story of how Polish salt miners and their super health revealed the benefits of time spent in such a chamber and learned how we would soon be enveloped in an invisible blizzard of micro salt particles.

In perhaps the most stunning turn of events, we were informed that no talking or even whispering was allowed during the 45 minute session. And then the door clicked closed and the relaxing music seemed to grow louder, so we pushed back our reclining chairs, grabbed the fleece blankets, and stared dreamily at the aura lights twinkling from the ceiling.

The Fourth of July

We spent our day surrounded by family at a holiday picnic with dogs and toddlers splashing in the pool and tumbling across the shady lawn.

What a privilege!

Happy Birthday, America.

What Daddy Likes

Heidi and I both have Upstate New York roots: she grew up in Buffalo and my dad was a Little Falls boy, born and bred just a couple hours east. It makes for a compelling cultural confluence; there are just so many vaguely familiar elements to the time we spend up here that something almost always seems to conjure up my dad.

For example last night we were talking about food we ate as children and lost family recipes. "My mother made a goulash that Gary loved," Louise told us, "but we've never been able to recreate it. He's always excited when he sees it on the menu, but he's always disappointed."

This conversation came at the end of a story about how the family was so poor when she was growing up that Louise's mother made spaghetti sauce first with ketchup, and then with tomato soup. "The first time I had real spaghetti I couldn't stop eating it," she told us."It was so much better than anything we ever had!"

"My dad used to love goulash when I was little," I said, "and it was made with, guess what? Tomato soup! I wonder..."

"Oh my gosh!" Louise interrupted. "Maybe tomato soup was the secret ingredient!"

"It makes sense," I replied. "I do know how to make it. It was one of the first things I learned to cook, along with creamed chipped beef, because they were my dad’s favorites."

Guess what's on the menu for Thursday?

Tucking In

We were roadtripping to Buffalo today, and as excited as I was to hit the highway, listen to some podcasts, eat car snacks, and sing really loud to the radio, and, of course, see my in-laws, I was concerned about my garden.

After
all
that
rain,

the last week has been
really hot
and really dry,

and my little plants were showing some signs of stress. With no rain in the forecast until Friday at the earliest, I rose early this morning to water for at least an hour and add some mulch to keep those guys as green as possible.

It was kind of a magical way to start the day.

Futures Market

We are leaving town tomorrow, so our trip to the farmer's market was meant to be brief: a couple of tomatoes for dinner and some peaches for breakfast before we hit the road. We had quite a few more items on our to-do list.

BUT, those tiny little pickling cucumbers were irresistibly cute.

I did a quick calculation in my head: brine them today...
pickles in a week?
Just in time for our homecoming!

Sold to the lady with more vision than sense.

They See Me Strollin

For a person who has almost everything, I got a lot of nice things for my birthday this year. By far the most photogenic was not actually for me, but rather for my cats.

You see it's come to my attention that while we are out gallivanting on all number of adventures with the dog, they are always stuck at home. And so, when I saw a kitty stroller in lovely lemon yellow last week, I was sorely tempted to buy it. I pushed it all around the store for a good ten minutes, appreciating the smooth handling, convenient bottom storage compartment, and handy collapsible design, but the end I opted out.

Fortunately Heidi alerted my sister, and so the early hours of my birthday were spent outside in the dappled morning sunlight, light breeze blowing, birds singing, and me strolling with my cats and the dog. And yes, there are pictures.

A Very Happy Tomorrow Today

The documentary about Fred Rogers is not over-rated.

I was probably a little too old to fully appreciate Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood when it ran on our local PBS station, but I certainly know all the characters: Daniel Strip-ed Tiger, Rex the Owl, Henrietta Kitty, Lady Elaine Fairchild, Handyman Negri, Lady Aberlin, Mr. McFeely, King Friday the 13th. I know all the words to the opening and closing songs, know the bench, the sneakers, the closet, the sweaters. I remember Picture, Picture and the thrill of the Trolley entering the tunnel on the way to the Land of Make-Believe.

Mr. Rogers himself was always a bit of a mystery to me: how could anyone really be that nice? But by all accounts, he really was that nice and that sincere. He purposely set out to create a show that was an oasis for children in the turbulence of television, and later, the world. One that would remind them that it was okay to be who they were, even when it didn't always feel like it. And any doubt about the timelessness of his message was erased with the information that the very first episodes of the show had King Friday closing the border and building a wall around the castle to keep out change.

His message that no matter how the world changes, kids are the same inside resonated with my inner teacher and made me promise myself to channel my inner Mr. Rogers a little more in my classroom, especially in these trying times. 

When I say it's you I like, I'm talking about that part of you that knows that life is far more than anything you can ever see or hear or touch. That deep part of you that allows you to stand for those things without which humankind cannot survive. Love that conquers hate, peace that rises triumphant over war, and justice that proves more powerful than greed." 
~Fred Rogers, Dartmouth Commencement Address, 2002