Indiana Idylls

On May 13, Paul and I participated in a glass-working workshop through Minnetrista Cultural Center here in Muncie. How often do you get an opportunity like that? We had a terrific time. Back in December, we had attended their Luminaria Walk -- a sort of holiday open house -- where the Ball family mansions were open and decorated for the holidays, admission to the museum was free, and there was a craft show and some artists demonstrating their craft. Among these, we were fascinated by the glass workers. There were several women making glass beads, and Steve Sizelove was selling some of his intricate glass vessels and demonstrating blown glass, as I recall. He was very personable; we probably stood there chatting with him for 30 minutes. In the course of conversation, we learned that he occasionally taught workshops through Minnetrista, so when we saw it advertised in the paper we were sure to sign up. We were bussed up to Ft. Wayne, where there's a very small commercial glass s...

Sorry, everyone -- you'd think that with all the soggy weather we've had (I think we were up to 10 days of recorded rain in a row until the wet spell broke on Friday) I'd have spent more time in front of the computer. I haven't been feeling very chatty recently, I guess, or even much like sitting at my messy desk. I'll try to catch everyone up in the next few posts. May 9 and 10 Paul judged his science fair in Indianapolis and I explored the city some. I had a great time. I was hoping to see some practice runs at the Speedway, but I spent they sunny afternoon Tuesday checking out Broad Ripple neighborhood, a locale one of Muncie's businessmen referred to in our latest show on downtown development, and it turns out they don't race in the rain which threatened all day Wednesday. Anyway, so when we got into town, Paul went right to his judging duties, not to return until 11pm. I checked in at the hotel, caught a bus, and headed up to Broad Ripple, an area of se...

It's a bird, it's a plane, it's... it's just a bird, actually. Dad has been pondering a different sort of wildlife: How do woodpeckers do what they do without their brains rattling around in their skulls?  Ranger Rick's answer might surprise and astound you. Did I mention the baby bunnies are out? It's hard to figure out how many there are, although I believe I saw at least two running around and about the deck one morning. Since then, I most often see one bunny at a time -- occasionally with momma -- and this bunny has a white stripe down its forehead, like a thoroughbred would. Maybe we should start calling it White Lightning and enter it in the races. (Of course, "this" bunny could be "these" bunnies. There's no way of knowing unless they start venturing out in groups.) I'm not sure rabbits have raced since Bugs Bunny's stint at the greyhound track.

When one grows up in a town where even the pizza joints have a house version of "greens" (that's a fresh, bitter green, like escarole or swiss chard, sauteed with the likes of cherry peppers, garlic, breadcrumbs, and/or Proscuitto/bacon); where "chicken riggies" is on every menu (that's a tomato-based meat sauce with cherry peppers and diced chicken over rigatoni); where eggplant parmesan is baked into a casserole, like lasagna, and served at every wedding, graduation, and funeral, one comes to believe that these dishes are universally prepared. When dining out, Paul and I normally observe a household rule of thumb: Don't go out for Italian. I refuse to pay someone $10 apiece for $1 worth of macaroni and $1.89 worth of tomato sauce that I can make better than they can. Despite this, I was seduced by a radio advertisement for Johnny Carinos' Country Italian restaurant. They're running a $19.99 dinner for two special, where you can choose two entre...

It's the fourth dreary morning in a row in the great Hoosier state. A little rain is good (even better, if I ever get my herbs and radishes in the ground!), but I'd appreciate Mother Nature breaking it up a little bit. It's hard to spring out of bed when it's gray and dismal out. Last Monday I did go back out after dinner and unearthed the last of the herb garden stumps. That root ball was so heavy with clay, we let it dry out a bit and I enlisted Paul's help in hauling it to the curb Wednesday evening. A call to the sanitation department left some doubt as to whether or not the city would collect my growing pile of yard waste, but Thursday morning the big truck with the big grabby arm picked all my branches, bags, and shrubbery carcasses up in one mechanical handful. Hooray! Paul mowed the lawn, and the front yard was presentable once again. While I was out there Monday, I was tended to our bicycles when our neighbor, Ashley, came home from school. I waved and she ...