I forgot to post this (from four summers ago), but better late than never: The salmon you see pictured here, is a sockeye salmon, I’d say perhaps a good two feet long or so. Now I would like to say he was caught at the end of my fishing pole, but that would be a tall “fish story”. He was however so kind as to accompany me back from the seafood section of a mostly fancy “organic” supermarket. The price per pound for a whole fish was substantially less than that for fillets, so it was an easy decision. Not only that, but to me, a fish as a whole fish is so much more enjoyable to look at. After being wrapped by the fish monger, I proceeded to the check-out line and playfully held the fish package up to my shoulder, pretending it was a baby and that I am burping it, much to the checker’s delight.
Once in the kitchen, the salmon was first washed of course, then scaled, stuffed with various herbs, before being wrapped in fig leaves, awaiting it’s final destination on the BBQ. Another fine culinary treat by my son Patrick.
Thank you God for making all the fish in the sea – especially salmon.
A quiet morning. Coming downstairs, I hear the tap-tap-tap of a tail on the floor (attached to a dog) joyously greeting me. I’m dog-sitting, and Moana knows it’s almost time for her walk. The tea kettle whistles, as I put on my shoes and down vest. I let the tea steep for a few minutes, before adding just a little milk. OK girl, time for your walk. It is frigid outside, but there is no frost this morning. Some of the trees have raindrops from yesterday hanging from their branches, a pretty sight, reflecting winter around them on a small-scale. As we walk along the long path, I come to a spot where hundreds of little acorns, no larger than a sunflower seed are scattered all over the path. Surely of keen interest to any squirrel that may reside in these parts. I pick one up to admire it, and playfully toss it near Moana. It is ignored however — she prefers sticks and stones, or an occasional soccer ball. It is completely still all around, a blanket of silent gray hanging over the valley.
I wonder what will the new year bring? Only you know God, but I thank you for the peaceful beginning today.
Today is Erntedanktag, the German Church celebration of giving thanks to God for the harvest, and for our food. In Germany at this time of year, the sights and sounds of fall are in the air, the leaves preparing themselves to drop from the trees to rustle at little feet shuffling through them, crisp air foretelling the end of summer and celebrating autumn, perhaps a fireplace wafting the smell of wood, pears and apples, waiting to be gathered to become apple cider or a yummy desert. A time to reflect, and to be grateful.
Have a blessed week
Running errands the other day I came upon what you see prominently on the left in this photo here. God definitely has a sense of humor which is clearly exemplified in this four-footed creature. You can’t help but chuckle at that face. After observing one another for several moments, contemplating life, and the sunshiny day, Mr./Ms.? bulldog (I thought it rude to check on specifics) was petted by yours truly, as we parted ways.
The last two Christmas trees at the local drugstore are finally gone now. In their place are dozens of roses, their roots wrapped in plastic, their pruned back, thorny stalks comprising the other half of what is visible. One would venture to guess it must be rose planting season. I have a wild rose still blooming in front of my loft — pretty amazing for January. Roses always make me think of Portland, Oregon — the City of Roses, as Portland calls itself, and for good reason. Portland has an ideal climate to grow roses. The rose garden in Portland is a pure joy to see and to smell in the summertime, when the roses are in full bloom. An abundance of color and fragrance to delight the senses.
Have a blessed week,