9/11: A Remembrance

This slideshow, created by me six years ago, represents my own personal journey in the wake of 9/11. It was, in a sense, my therapy, my way of trying to make sense of the senseless and coming to terms with the realities of war. Many of the images are disturbing. The first half of the video is about shock, violence, and grieving. The message in the second half is hope. May this slideshow and the events of 9/11 serve as a reminder that our lives have value and meaning, that peace is a personal process, and that we are all connected.

Los Poblanos CSA

I recently became a member of our local CSA (Community Supported Agriculture), Los Poblanos. Every Tuesday afternoon I drive to the farm, located less than two miles away, to pick up my share of the weekly harvest. I didn't get a chance to photograph last week's harvest box, but this week I managed to snap a photo before some of it wound up on my dinner plate.


This week's box included potatoes, beets, cheddar cauliflower, red onions (very sweet!), Juliet tomatoes, a bunch of beets, zucchini, parsley, avocadoes, pluots, pears, and roasted "Big Jim" chiles (a medium hot green chile). And, it's all organic. Missing from the photo are the beautiful green peppers. I still have carrots, spinach, lettuce and grapes from last week's harvest box, resting comfortably in Debbie Meyer Green Bags in the fridge.

Tomorrow morning I'm expecting a delivery of a new fridge. The old one still works, but the drawers are flimsy and it's just too small. There will be lots more room for farm goodies in the new fridge.

It's great to be making weekly trips to an organic farm again. Last time I did that was in New Hampshire over five years ago, when I traveled to Center Conway each week to work or pick up my harvest bag at the Earle Family Farm. It's always a surprise to see what's included in the harvest bags, which change from week to week.

Eat organic and eat local. It saves energy and the food is fresher. It's also fun.

Ike, Take A Hike

The Atlantic Basin is busy again. The parade of late summer tropical systems have begun the relentless march from east to west. As I watch storm tracks and spaghetti models change every few hours, I'm reminded of the realities of living in paradise. It's been two years since I left Florida, but with loved ones still on the peninsula, my attention is never far from developing weather that threatens the Sunshine State.


Ike, a dangerous major hurricane spinning in the Caribbean, is shaping up to be a very real threat to not only Florida, but the Bahamas, Turks and Caicos, and once again, the Gulf states. Today's 5pm forecast put the cyclone in the Gulf by next week, headed for storm-weary New Orleans. But the threat to Florida remains. There is simply no certainty to unpredictable storm tracks. Landfall predictions remain a mystery.

Hurricane amnesia has not yet set in for me. I remember watching, waiting, wondering. I lived for the updates from the National Hurricane Center, posted on the web every six hours. At ten minutes to the hour I'd reload repeatedly until the next update was available. During hurricane season, life was on hold. Do I have everything I'll need in my emergency kit? Will I have enough water? Will we lose power? Will I lose clients if I'm out of commission for a week, or more? Should I evacuate? Where will I go? Will the house be OK if we leave? What about looters? Can I survive the humid summer heat without air conditioning?

I don't ask these questions any more, but I worry about friends and family in Florida. I listen to them asking the same questions. There's little I can do to alleviate their anxiety. It's the waiting that's hardest. At least I don't sleep with my computer anymore, waking in the middle of the night to check updates. It's no way to live.

Ike, take a hike.