rampant curiosity--how do you waste time?

Yes. Her research sabbatical that year was intensely focused, and though she insisted she'd love my company, in fact I would have been at best a distraction, and more likely a hindrance to her obsessive work habits. She concluded her work there with a presentation at Oxford, and it seemed best that she have no spousal baggage this time. Also, my vacation time is limited to 4 weeks per year, and we usually have that all planned out for trips to Cape Cod, upstate NY, family in Wyoming & South Dakota, etc.OTOH, we have hopes for a research grant to help fund a visit to Scotland, in which case I would take a leave of absence from my employment and join her. Yeah, I have a conflicting reactions to large green organization's strategies in this regard: tough call, in any case, but I think local involvement and impact are essential.We were scratching by for years on essentially one income (while she pursued her PhD). I gave up a great job in Boston so that she could accept a tenure-track job here in Connecticut, and then I struggled longer than expected to find decent work; when at last we found ourselves fairly affluent on two full incomes, it came as a shock. True in many ways, and a damn shame: from what I can see, the sort of diverse city troop that meant so much to me is a thing of the past, and the organization seems much more conservatively politicized. I think that is the very field we worked. Picture this: Omnivorous standing by the road with a sandwich board--PARK HERE--in full BS shorts and tabbed socks uniform. A small party of drunken young men approach, one says, "Whoa! Man! a f**kin' Boy Scout!"--and emptied a can of beer on my head! His friends dragged him off, apologized--and then one turned back to hand me a six pack of PBR as reparations. "Chug a lug chug a lug...first time for everything...mmmmm my ears still ring."Was that you, Flies? I think the ages are wrong, though, since I am OTD (Older Than Dirt). Very cool. We enjoy large populations of tree frogs, toads, and salamanders at home--as canaries in the mine, they reassure us of the general good ecologic health of the immediate area. I leave offerings for a beautiful fox (4-legged variety) up on the hill sometimes, and she has graced me with a few glimpses but won't approach while I'm there, which is fine--I'm not generally into taming wild things. Doing banding and hosting an ornithological study would truly rock.We had a wren at the kitchen window suet feeder this morning, russety, feisty, refusing to give an inch to the hairy and downy woodpeckers despite its size disadvantage. No sign of the redbellies for weeks now, though we did have a breeding pair this year, and the thrushes have been gone even longer, as have the hawks. Won't begrudge you a single bird, Flies: I hope that we see many, and that you see more.

Great gourds, PD!Like Ringo, I esp. like the earrings (also like Ringo, I have a thing for earrings--my wife must have one of the world's largest collections, from gems to paper, antique to punk).Oh, the Indiana State Fair! I have warm and well-worn memories of working there in the early '60s, roasting corn for the Lion's Club Fund for the Blind. I'd work the huge cinder block grill, and sometimes get on the PA, just like a real carny barker (I was 13):"Getcher ears here! Roasted, toasted, corn on the cob, picked this morning, roasted to perfection, ready to take a dip in melted Grade A Butter right now!"Way better than deep fried Twinkies.At nights I roamed the Midway and flirted with the cotton candy girls. I confess I didn't spend much time in the Arts & Crafts exhibits, but if I had, I doubt I'd have seen gourds like yours.I once made some bird houses from gourds, but your work is art, and I know that making things with gourds is one of the oldest crafts--I imagine you can feel that deep time connection as you work.Sorry, good art makes me natter

I make a mean orange-cinnamon roll myself, PD, my buttermilk biscuits have a loyal following, and my strawberry-rhubarb cobbler never gets a day old .My mother (who was an outstanding country cook) was surprised that I was the only rug-rat of six interested in learning to cook--I made my first pie from scratch at age 5, and dinner-time would usually find me hanging at Ma's elbow, learning how to make that magic stuff she put on the table. The aroma of a new dish was about the only thing that could get my nose out of books.The year I came home from Asia we planted a full acre garden at my mother's house, and the two of us spent the fall canning and pickling: that was when we truly came to know each other as grown-ups.Alas, much of what I learned to make in those days gives my cardiologist hives (and you can hear your smaller arteries snapping shut when you eat them), so there are many I make only for special occasions--like creamed sausage gray over buttermilk biscuits, braised Swiss steak with carmelized onions in brown gravy, cranberry & cream scones, lemon pound cake served warm with homemade vanilla bean ice cream... One of my favorites is double-apple fantans--sweet apple muffins with sugar and cinnamon-coated apple slices set into the batter in a fan pattern, baked and drizzled with icing: it's like having a small slice of apple pie atop your apple cake.sigh