Sorry About That

Sometimes, real life takes over.  One minute I’m lounging about in my short pants gathering cookout pictures and suddenly I’m sniffling into my hoodie sleeve and planning my Halloween costume.  Candidly, though, the last couple months haven’t found me very bloggy.  As a lot of you know, I had a death in the family recently and had to spend a couple of weekends in my hometown, including a trip to “the family farm,” to scatter ashes, chase wild turkeys and whatever.  The side-note here is that I really am grateful for the kindness many of you have shown these past weeks.  It’s been kind of a struggle to find a rhythm and an energy again.  But I’m getting there.

But I HAVE been cooking.  And reading.  And obsessing.   Not even sure where to start.  So, in the spirit of catching up, please indulge my speed round:
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Dear John Cougar, I Get It Now. Really. Love, Jeff

I didn’t see the constellation Orion. But I felt a sense of profound relief that I came of age just after the Friday Night/Heavy Metal/Laser/Astronomy at the Observatory thing.

Seriously, There was a point on the return leg of the road trip that found me absolutely mesmerized. I had to ease the Hoopty off the the side of Highway 46, sit out on the front fender, and look up at the stars. I’m willing to risk that sounding a little bit trite, but seriously, it had been a long time. It was a clear night, with great visibility and no glare save from a dimly lit A-frame farmhouse about a half a mile downhill.

And I try not be cavalier about the word “awe,” but there are times when it just fits. I sat there dumbstruck for what had to be a half an hour, staring blankly into a sky that just teemed with life. I didn’t see the space station, but I found the Big Dipper, the North Star, and this faint streak of powdery white that I knew wasn’t a cloud, but I think was the outer arm of the galaxy. I think this image was seared into my mind as the most compelling visual of 2009.

Yeah, I need to get out of the city more often.

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