Food is full of artistic beauty, and not just the big high priced moment; like the world class elegance in the plates from Chef Michel Guerard of France. The small moments that surround us everyday also have artistic beauty and in unexpected ways. When I was making lunch today, I cut the crusty loaf ofContinue reading “Incidental Art”
This week we feature the 1972 U.S. Postal issue commemorating Cape Hatteras on the Atlantic coast of North Caroline . This stamp is a mile stone in U.S.Postal Service stamp design. It is the first stamp that the image was not contained with in the bounds of the perforation. I recall that at the timeContinue reading “Stamp of The Week”
St. Marks stands silent at 9:00 am mass, but it’s message can still be heard. Jesus rose from the dead! After I live streamed mass from the Vatican, we broke out the colored eggs, the Peeps and the jelly beans to celebrate the good new. My favorite egg is the one on the right; theContinue reading “Happy Easter”
Four generations of fabulous food.
A while back, I went over to my Mom’s house for a visit. My brother was there too. The three of us ended up at her dinning room table while my brother was showing us something he found on the web. From my seat I saw my brother’s hand slip out from behind his laptop.Continue reading “The Return of the Hand!”
Why write about stamps? Well, stamps have many qualities that make them worthy of your time. There are three qualities I find unique for one piece of printed material to have. One, they measure on a monetary scale the effort it takes a system to move an object of a particular size and weight fromContinue reading “Stamp of the Week”
Its’ really strange not to attending mass on Palm Sunday. I cannot recall a time when that has ever happened to me. Our family has ‘attended’ mass watching a live stream from our church St. Marks. But it is not the same as being there in person. It is a richer experience when you prayContinue reading “St. Mark’s Church, Palm Sunday”
Dawn outside my window, Warm toast, coffee black crows calling In bare trees holding gray skies. Chimneys lean and curl smoke Along the roof tops of the dark houses As a lone runner chases her shadow Down the empty street.