Those nice bright colors

I got a very late start with the flower garden this year, but the flowers seem to be catching up, despite all the dry, hot weather! Last year's crested celosia and statice were an epic fail, but this year's plants seem to be doing much better. And for my money no zinnia beats the "Cut and Come Again" variety for arrangements, but for some reason it's getting really hard to track down.

Good taste

One of Tilda's best pals was at a West Chester-area state store on Saturday and happened to pick up the Pennsylvania Liquor Control Board's free quarterly publication, "Taste." While reading through it, she was delighted to see that K. C. Kulp, one of the owners of The Whip Tavern in West Marlborough, is quoted in an Olympics tie-in story about the food and drink of England!
K. C. gives his recipes for a drink called "The Whipster" (cucumber slices, mint, gin, soda water and lemon-lime soda) and Whip classic Bubble and Squeak (a potato, leek and cabbage dish).

In with the new

Rave reviews so far for the new Genuardi's-turned-Giant grocery store in East Marlborough. I didn't have enough experience with the old store to compare, so I asked two family members for their opinions.
My mother said the new Giant is "twenty times better than the old store, at least!" She plans to make it her primary supermarket.
And my sister-in-law agreed, singling out for special mention the produce and the improved traffic flow of the store.

Friday the 13th

Does Friday the 13th have some kind of a carryover effect on cars and humans?
This past weekend:
1. Two friends' car batteries died (one was well overdue, the other wasn't).
2. A light on my dashboard came on, alerting me that my oil had only 15% of its life left.
3. A stone chipped a friend's windshield while she was on her way to a family reunion ... and then she hit a pothole and wrecked a tire.
4. A local trainer came off her horse and broke her right hand. 
5. Two friends got stung by bees. One of them had a bad and first-time-ever allergic reaction, but fortunately she was at a party with doctors, vets and nurses.
6. The latter bee-sting victim also got stepped on by her horse. "But I still managed to ride," she said.

Fate

I was torn today when I woke and heard the usually welcome noise of rain on the roof. On the one hand, it is so needed for the corn and other crops and for everyone's gardens and lawns.
On the other hand, why oh why did it have to happen on a Saturday when I was helping to run an event for 100 people from out of town, and for which I had argued strongly that no, we won't need to rent a tent?
Actually it all worked out for the best. We moved the morning portion of the proceedings indoors, and although it was a tad crowded a real sense of camaraderie developed. And by lunchtime the rain had lifted, though it was still overcast, and we could have lunch outdoors as planned. (By the way: Triple Fresh in Ercildoun does some awesome catering!)

Job description

I am deeply honored to serve on the board of a local historical group, but sometimes my duties go well beyond the four-meetings-a-year that I was promised would be all board membership would entail.
Yesterday the board president (who recruited me) and I loaded up cut tree branches from around the nonprofit's property and dumped them in the woods. I was standing there behind her pickup, sweating, impaled by rose thorns, tugging with all my strength-training might to try to dislodge the branches from the truck bed as my colleague pushed.
They weren't budging.
We paused. We both uttered the same oath.
I looked up at her.
"Four meetings a year, huh," I said.
She roared with laughter.
"Yeah, that's what we tell everybody!"

Along the way

Midsummer is a peculiar time for roadside flora. There's still a whiff of honeysuckle, but the multiflora rose, once so pungent, has been reduced to desiccated rose hips and the leaves look raggedy. The cow parsley, once so green and lush, is fried and brown. Dust kicked up from the road onto the verge has clotted onto cobwebs and powdered over the sheen of poison ivy leaves. The wineberries are especially plentiful this year.
If you get a chance, teach a kid how to make a shooter out of a plantain stalk. The Young Relative mastered this on maybe his second try, making me his target (per usual).
On my walk last night I spotted a harbinger of the next season: bittersweet berries, still green and tight. In a few months they'll be a brilliant red, with yellow hulls and brown pliable stems, perfect for fashioning into an autumnal wreath.