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June 28: Grandma’s Shortcake

Visiting my grandmothers in June meant one thing: Homemade strawberry shortcake.  The strawberries were picked by my grandfather. I remember sneaking down to their strawberry patch nestled between rows of rhubarb and tomatoes. I couldn’t believe how many kinds of vegetables they would fit on their city lot.  Of course, she would make shortcake from scratch.  She would beat the whipped cream cranking her mixer with her strong, tanned arms. When we heard the crank-crank of the mixer, we knew it was almost time.  To this day, I have yet… Read more June 28: Grandma’s Shortcake

Rustling Grass…

Summer as it was…Day 3 Rustling Grass, 6″ x 6″, Oil Painting Years ago, I found a poem. I inscribed it onto clay with some pressed Timothy grass. Every time I see wind sweeping across a field of grass, I think of that poem.  I will let the poem speak for itself! The Rustling of Grass, Alfred Noyes, 1920 I cannot tell why, But the rustling of grass, As the summer winds pass Through the field where I lie, Bring to life a lost day, Long ago, far away, When… Read more Rustling Grass…