Author: Eric

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Working The Autumn Harvest

Alison and I are bringing the remainder of our garden into the house for either instant processing (mmmm, Leek and Potato soup!), canning and processing for later consumption (pickled beets, pickled jalepeno peppers and carrots, kimchi), or putting things straight into storage (onions, garlic, carrots, beets, potatoes, cabbage).

Remembering John Bungen

What a great guy.
Saturday September 10, 2011, a group of John’s friends and family gathered to remember John.
John’s ashes were laid to rest in Cohasset Massachusetts, overlooking Little Harbor and Paula’s childhood home.
It was a beautiful day.
He is missed.

John and Paula 2009
John and Paula 2009

John's stone in Cohasset, surrounded by flowers arranged by Amy Bungen Mathews. Susan's stone is nearby, as are Paula's parents.

Continue reading “Remembering John Bungen” →

Meeting Montreal

Bixi bike stand near Palais des congres(not the apartment; this is a Bixi bike stand)

So here I am, in a Craig’s List short-term apartment (read: a cheap functional dump w/wifi) near McGill University after having spent the day geeking out at the American Cheese Society conference downtown at the impressive and modern Palais des Congres across from the minimalist cool modern Quebec provincial government building. I’m chillin’ in between a full-day of learnin’ (you can see the geek stuff over at the Guild web site), and an evening of partai-ing on the Quebec provincial government’s dime. I got here by renting and then riding a Bixi bike that I parked at the stand on the corner of the block where my apartment is located. I’ve got my laptop on my lap thinkin’ that Montreal is not quite but also is more than I thought it would be.
Continue reading “Meeting Montreal” →

July Adventure, Homeward Bound

The SAAB gets its fuel pump and we get on back to SF

In Reno, days passed and Brian went to work and we shopped and read and caught up on writing and ate some food and reveled in the usually perfect July weather experienced for the most part on Brian’s back deck.

At the Spa up north, Brian was reminded of the wonderfulness of his hot tub, but it has been out of order for a while. Brian so loves his hot tub. He gave me the job of finding a guy to fix it, and I made some calls. Yes, and there was a rainstorm…

and a spectacular sunset the day before the day of.

The day of was Thursday. I called Walton Car Care and they said they were installing my fuel pump and we could come for the car at any time. That’s just when the hot tub guy came to take a look at the offending tub. I hung around, standing in for Brian. Carol and I scheduled ourselves to leave at 10am for the 8 hour pick-up trip — three hours north, one there, three south and one whatever. Leaving a little later won’t kill us. The hot tub situation is fixable, not dire, but there are parts to order and what not.

We were on I-395 before eleven and after the hills and dales and wide roads getting out of Sparks and Reno, we settled on the straight and narrow to Alturas. Brian’s plans changed slightly… he’s going north on Friday, so Carol and I took his Sabaru and will leave it at Walton’s for him to pick up on Friday.

In these wide open spaces, it seems that the road is always straight, the land is always vast and the mountains are always in the distance. When you think you might get to the mountains, the road might bend a bit and go straight on by. This road is on the California side of the border. On the Nevada side, the sensation is similar, but the vast land is white and tan over there, as opposed to greenish and reddish over here. Empty, is what it’s like. We could go nearly an hour without seeing another car, or a person working in a field. On the other hand, its not the Wild West anymore. We travel about 200 miles, one way, seeing essentially nothing, but we do it in about 3 hours. Its not like traveling ten miles a day, walking behind a Calistoga wagon, or two or three days by horseback. Continue reading “July Adventure, Homeward Bound” →

Snapshot

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It’s that time of year in Maine: black flies and planting. Somehow they always come together. Yes, that is my bug repellent gardening outfit. Yes, each of those dots is a black fly that was trapped in the baby oil smeared on my helmet (an ingenious and effective bug-reduction device).