Each Little World

The kids are alright

Welcome garden bloggers

to the Madison, Wisconsin

Fling!

Each Little World

For the mind, by nature stagey, welds its frame

Tomb-like around each little world of a day.

We jump from picture to picture and cannot follow

the living curve that is breathlessly the same.

— Louis Mac Neice / 1907-1963

What little world?

EACH LITTLE WORLD that collides with mine:

The world of interiors and exteriors; bibliophiles; china and dishing; feasts and fests; food; flowers and gardens; material possessions and textile obsessions; worldly goods and bads.

Your worlds and mine.

Let the collision begin.

The above two paragraphs and accompanying two photos announced the arrival of my blog exactly three years ago today. Though collision is certainly not the right word — more like a whisper — given the few folks who actually read it in those days.

In the beginning I posted daily; sometimes even twice a day. It seemed easy compared to putting out two editions of a daily newspaper as I did in my pre-blogging life. I considered the blog to be more colorful versions of the myriad topics I covered in print. But when I went to the garden bloggers' 2009 meet-up in Chicago, they told me myriad topics were a blogging no-no. It's all about niche marketing and staying on topic. If you've been reading this blog for the last year — or week — you know that's not what you'll find here. I veer off track easily and often.

While I love to garden and write about it, I am equally adamant about art and reading. I am passionate about politics and history, and have been fascinated by food, fashion and fiber long before I ever picked up a trowel. In fact, I came to gardening through Elizabethan embroidery. I have been steadily writing about those topics since 1981 with a couple of short breaks between publishers. I've said it before and I say it again: To limit my blog to gardening is to limit my life. 

If you live in Wisconsin — or pay attention to politics — you know my life, like that of thousands of others, has been turned topsy turvy by the actions of our governor. Some of you were not very happy when this mostly-garden-blog suddenly went political in February of this year. I wish I could say you've seen and read the last passionate political post but I know the fight's not over, and thus neither are my takes on current events. I spent part of my newspaper career as an editorial writer and editorial page editor — professionally opinionated as I like to say. I was writing about politics right along side of home and garden stories. And that's how I see the blog — the place where all my worlds can come together.  

I've been lucky to discover a world of readers whose pursuits are equally diverse. Some of you I've known for years in my pre-blog life, some of you I've met in person post-blog and some of you I look forward to meeting one of these days. I picture all of you when I write, when I decide what to write, and when I look to see what you've written. 

Thank you for continuing to visit my little world. I'd love to hear what you think so don't be shy; leave a comment. If you do comment, be sure to scroll down and type in the crazy combo of numbers and letters that let's me know you are a real reader and not a robot. Here's to another year of sharing our worlds.

Blogger meet-up in Madison

Mark and I did not attend the most recent garden blogger meet-up in Seattle. We'd taken a trip to Seattle and points north and south of that city a number of years ago to see Asian gardens. Though we hadn't visited private gardens on that trip, we decided that the timing just wasn't right for us to head west this year. But, as it happens, Seattle came to us last week — in the person of Daniel Mount (below, with Joan Severa in her Madison garden).

Daniel Mount — garden designer, writer and blogger — stayed with us on a flying visit to Madison Monday and Tuesday. He was here to scout out local gardens for a 2012 tour of this area by Pacific Northwest gardeners. As the "Seattle Fling" blogger gathering suggests, usually gardeners are flocking to see those temperate northwest gardens rather than the other way round. (Those of you who were at the Seattle meet-up may remember seeing Daniel at the Epping and Lane gardens and Bellevue Botanic). 

Daniel is a Wisconsin native with family still residing here and he knows what we have to offer: Chicago public gardens like the CBG and the Lurie and Olbrich Botanical Gardens and the UW-Madison Arboretum here. Our Arboretum is home to the world's oldest restored prairie as well as an outstanding collections of trees and shrubs. Many of them were introduced by Emeritus Horticulture prof Ed Hasselkus, and are now consumer favorites like Whitespire birches, Columbus strain redbuds, and Northern Glow maple. Among the many highlights at Olbrich is the Thai Pavilion, or sala, a common structure in Thailand typically used as a shelter from rain and heat. Olbrich's structure is gorgeously ornate with teak, ceramic tile and gold leaf and is one of only four in the world located outside Thailand.

Late summer in the Midwest offers scenes and plants that differ widely from those in the Pacific Northwest and Daniel wanted to refresh his memory of what our region looks like at this season. So Mark and I chauffeured him to eight private gardens — the first two on Monday evening. It was a long day considering he'd spent the morning with Jeff Epping, Director of Horticulture at Olbrich, and the afternoon with Ed Hasselkus at the Arb. 

We were off to an early start Tuesday with six gardens on the agenda. I had to be the tough task master since we only had an hour per garden — and that included travel time. The gardens ranged from Middleton to Oregon with the majority in Madison. With the assistance of Jane LaFlash of the Wisconsin Hardy Plant Society, I lined up gardens of all sizes and types for Daniel to visit. We saw landscapes with sun and shade, ponds and prairies, chickens and bees, native plants and the latest exotic introductions.

Despite our recent high temperatures and lack of rainfall, all the gardens were looking lush and lovely. Daniel got a chance to meet the gardeners who briefed him on their highlights. Staying on schedule was not easy as all these gardens had so much to offer in both design and plants. A number of them have been open to visitors as part of Wisconsin Hardy Plant Society tours of member gardens or Olbrich's annual Home Garden Tour. 

Jane LaFlash (above right with Daniel and me) has a garden tucked behind her house on a busy thoroughfare that is so secluded it's hard to realize it's smack dab in the city. We spent lots of time looking at her Japanese maples. Jane has had great success with them compared to most of us with sad stories about our attempts to grow them. 

At the garden of Tom and Rosemary Kleinheinz, we saw a plant that Tony Avent was touting at his recent appearance at the Wisconsin Master Gardeners state conference held in Madison. Tony put "Syneilesis aconitifolia (with feathery leaves above) on his list of "100 Favorite Perennials for Wisconsin Gardeners" — and I had just planted one.

The picture above gives you a sense of what it's like to see a bunch of gardens in quick succession. Mark snapped the photo while I am on the far left taking notes, and Daniel is bemused, befuddled and trying to take notes and keep it all straight as Jane LaFlash and Tom and Rosemary Kleinheinz make sure he doesn't miss anything. A long, confusing, exhausting, memorable day!

Doubly beautiful

When we moved to this garden we discovered a number of lovely wildflowers that could be traced to the garden of our neighbors. Wind and animals had given us a nice collection of plants, including Bloodroot (Sanguinaria canadensis, first two pix below). Having only gardened in full sun before, most of these plants were a mystery to me. Over time I learned their names and requirements and went on to want fancier examples — like double Bloodroot. I've bought the double version of the plant a number of times but have had no success in getting it to bloom — let alone establish a clump. 

Kathy Purdy of Cold Climate Gardening in New York state always has gorgeous photos of this plant on her blog. Last spring when I commented on their beauty and vigor, she said she'd bring some for me to the Garden Bloggers Spring Fling in Buffalo. When I told her I would not be able to attend the event, lo and behold if she didn't mail me a huge clump of double Bloodroot. 

I was stunned at the size of the clump she sent me and thrilled at her generosity. I was also petrified that I would kill it! I decided to divide it in two, hoping I would manage to find the right spot for at least one group. I also caged the them as soon as they were planted to mark them and keep critters from disturbing them. This year's very long, very cool Spring produced a stellar crop of single Bloodroot at these photos attest.

This picture (directly above) shows my garden treasure from Kathy. Both clumps came through the winter with huge, lush flowers ruffled with layers of petals. This is my official "Thank you" to Kathy for her thoughtfulness and generosity. And to let other gardeners know that it may take a while, but success with a problem plant is possible! (And yes, I have marked the two double clumps so I will know where they are during gardening season and will take extra care not to disturb them). 

Garden journals: The book or the blog

For those of you who started blogging as a means of recording time and change in your garden, my stack of handwritten garden journals may seem laughable. Even I look at them in wonder some days: I wonder how I managed to be so disciplined as to create twelve volumes; but mostly I wonder how to get back to keeping up those hand-written diaries. 

The entires are very different from blog posts because they are not written for an audience. As a long-time writer, however, I'm always conscious of grammar, clarity and legibility whatever and wherever I'm writing. I'm also conscious that I don't have to back-up paper journal entries or worry about incompatible formats. 

I don't carry a laptop or iphone with me but I always have a pencil and a Lamy fountain pen (with a box of ink cartridges) and a notebook in my so-called purse. When I can't figure out how to begin a column or a blog post or almost any written document, I begin by sitting down with a pen and a piece of paper. There is something almost primal that happens when you pick up that most basic of tools. That's why I draw rather than paint — and why I draw in black and white rather than color. 

This series of garden journals began in 1997 with Mark and I interviewing potential landscape architects to find one who could help us implement the design that we'd created for our garden. The books include musings about the process, lists of plants, highpoints of tours and lectures. Eventually I began to use them like a diary, not worrying if I strayed from gardening. The subjects can get quite rambling — and thus don't necessarily translate into blog posts. 

Volume XII is the "current" journal. It resides in a basket on the garden bookshelves, where I toss anything I want to remember or paste into the journal. I write weather or bloom data or anything else noteworthy on my calendar which I can then use to flesh out the journal entries.

It was a perfect system until I got distracted. First, I started making entries that were like little art projects after I took a class and decided the books should be equally about words and images. I spent hours drawing and collaging. 

And then I started blogging. It wasn't long before it seemed redundant to keep both electronic and hand-written logs. Until yesterday, the last entry I made in Volume XII was in mid-May 2009, as Mark and I were getting ready to go to Chicago to have a real-life, real time meet-up with garden bloggers from around the country. 

I figured if I really wanted a paper journal I could print out my blog posts or even turn them into a book as Jenny at Rock Rose has done. But as more time has passed without me updating my print journal, it's reinforced my sense of the the ephemeral nature of blog posts — something I never felt with my newspaper columns. 

My column typically ran in full-color on the cover of a Saturday section front and was available on-line as well. I saved a newsprint copy of each one, knowing a copy also remained safely in the print — and later electronic — newspaper library. But given the unexpectedly fragile future of newspapers, the fate of those hundreds of newspaper libraries around the country is equally uncertain. A fact that was made eminently clear when the local papers dramatically cut back on public access to their electronic library last September. 

Based on what I've witnessed over the last few years, what it ultimately comes down to is this: the written word lasts longest when it is written by hand and preserved on paper. So I spent the better part of a week — with my 2009 calendar, my basket of bits and pieces, a stick of archival glue and my pen — catching up. My paper garden journal, like my on-line garden journal, is now on real time. 

Garden Bloggers Buffalo fling: Food

If you're going to the Garden Bloggers' meet-up in Buffalo in July — officially known as Buffa10 — you're probably already wondering about the food. We had some great meals at the last Spring Fling in Chicago, including the city's famous deep-dish pizza. But I think Buffalo will be able to meet the dining challenge.

You are likely already familiar with one of the area's signature dishes, Buffalo wings: Chicken wings spiced up with cayenne pepper and served with celery and blue cheese dressing. While I've enjoyed that particular treat, it was created long after I'd left town. It isn't actually a regional specialty, but rather a smart marketing ploy as far as I'm concerned.

When I hit Buffalo in July, there are two culinary pilgrimages I plan to make: one to Parkside Candy and the other to Schwabl's.

Parkside Candy (pictured below) is home to my dad's favorite sweet treat, sponge candy. He loved this airy confection tasting of butter and molasses (though it contains neither), especially the version dipped in dark chocolate. I'm sure this is where my affair with dark chocolate began. He had such a sweet tooth for this candy, that my mom actually learned how to make her own. It is hard to describe because it is melt-in-the-mouth fragile and yet makes a definite squeeky sound if you chew it. Suffice it say that it is still a favorite in our family.

But before our childish palates were sophisticated enough for sponge candy, my dad would buy an assortment of Parkside's suckers (lollipops) for my sisters and me to share. These were not round balls, but discs about a quarter of an inch thick and came in flavors ranging from toasted cocoanut to peppermint. They were actually just as popular with grown-ups as with us kids, and you had to grab your favorite flavor fast or lose out.  

PHOTO: BUFFALO FOOD AND OTHER DELIGHTS   

Schwabl's Beef on Weck sandwich is the meal that says "home" to me, and I can't imagine coming to the city without enjoying one. It's a roast beef sandwich raised to an art by the skill of the cook who roasts the beef, the person who slices the beef and the roll on which it's served: kummelweck. "Weck" or "wick" — the locals say it both ways — is a German hard roll with big chunks of salt and caraway seeds on top. The freshness of the roll is critical so beef on weck has stayed a local favorite, as weck doesn't travel well and weck from a freezer case is downright unthinkable.

Don't take my word that this a great sandwich. Jane and Michael Stern praised it in their column in Gourmet magazine; more recently Michael declared that beef on weck at Schwabl's was "worth driving anyplace from" on the Roadfood blog. Then of course there's the incredible warm German potato salad, the coleslaw without mayo, the hot ham sandwich, the birch beer ...

When I used to fly home from Wisconsin to visit my parents, my dad and I would stop at Schwabl's on the drive from the airport for some shared dad and daughter time. Beef on weck at Schwabl's was also one of the last meals my husband and I had with my parents before my dad's Alzheimers put a stop to such outings. It was the meal my sisters and I planned to partake of after our mothers' memorial service, but a freak October snowstorm put paid to that plan. So this trip will most definitely find me at Schwabl's, filling myself with food and family memories.

Though this image of a beef on weck sandwich is from Charlie the Butcher, not Schwabl's, it gives you a sense of what it's all about.

Chicago Spring Fling redux

For quite a few years my winter treat was a day spent at Olbrich Botanical Gardens at the annual Horticulture Magazine Symposium. It was where I tracked trends, fought attacks of plant lust and worked at becoming a more informed gardener. But mostly I sat in the dark seeking inspiration.

With no snow in the forecast, a brief warming trend and no more Hort magazine symposiums, I decided we should seek inspiration further afield: with Dan Pearson at the Chicago Botanic Garden. Pearson is the wunderkind of contemporary landscape design, working on projects around the world and author of a new book — "Spirit: Garden Inspiration" — which was the basis for his pair of lectures we attended on Saturday. 

    

Dan Pearson watches the auditorium fill up before his talk Saturday.

While Pearson gave us plenty to look at and to think about, so did our walk through the CBG. Neither one of us had ever been there in winter, so we made a quick tour of some of the spots that had captured our attention last May when the garden bloggers descended en masse as part of their Chicago Spring Fling. 

THE JAPANESE ISLAND GARDEN:   

  

   

 

    

THE ENGLISH WALLED GARDEN:  A checkerboard of clipped boxwood alternates with herbs in the foreground while a bright blue bench rests in the shadow of the pergola.

 

 

    

MORE WALLED GARDEN: The sweep of the curved bench against the back wall is no match for the scene-stealing weeping Katsura tree in the center of the garden. Our winter visit gave us a close-up of the severe pruning this tree gets in order to keep it in bounds. We plan on treating our Katsura the same way.

 

 

 

 

    

BRANCHED BEAUTY: Winter is the ideal time to enjoy all the clipping, pleaching, topiary and assorted other pruning techniques that the CBG does so well — and that is one of the aspects of the garden that most appeals to me. 

 

 

 

    

PLANTS AREN'T THE ONLY THINGS THAT GO DORMANT IN WINTER.

 

 

    

WINTER REVELATIONS: Shapes, patterns and a softer palette that would be lost in summer, predominate at this season.

 

 

 

Winter bulbs at the CBG

Trust the staff at the Chicago Botanic Garden to create an indoor bulb display as eye-stopping as this summer sweep of white Alliums and willows, which we snapped while visiting the outdoor display gardens as part of Garden Bloggers 2009 Spring Fling last May.

    

 

    

The garden's winter arrangement of pots of "Lemon Lime" Amaryllis underplanted with "Jacob Classic" Hellebore and trailing "Diamond" ivy is dramatic enough to hold its own, even when surrounded by huge photos of classic water gardens. 

    

 

 

    

The massive containers of Amaryllis are shown parading down the CBG's own indoor water feature in the Joseph Regenstein Center, where we had gone to hear garden guru, Dan Pearson, speaking about garden inspiration. This display — located outside the auditorium where Pearson was speaking — proves the folks at the CBG are no slouches themselves when it comes to providing inspiration.

    

 

Shrink your lawn

For those of you who haven't decided to go all the way and eat your lawns a la the "Edible Estates" philosophy — but want to get rid of some grass — along comes Evelyn J. Hadden to tell you how to shrink your lawn. Hadden's book, "Shrink Your Lawn: Design Ideas for Any Landscape," looks at gardens large and small, and of every type, including woodland gardens, lawnless front gardens, small scale gardens and island beds.

But if you live in Madison and its environs, you can hear Hadden in person when she presents an illustrated talk on Thursday, Sept. 24 at Olbrich Botanical Gardens to help you make the lawnless leap. Registration deadline is Monday, Sept. 21. The fee is $11 for members, $13 for the general public and Hadden will sign copies of her book which will be for sale.

HADDEN/SHRINK YOUR LAWN

A neighborhood of lawnless front yards has a unique character and mood.

Hadden is only one of many people offering information and advice on how to downsize your lawn. Among the folks who are part of the Lawn Reform Coalition, along with Hadden, are the delightfully opinionated Garden Ranter Susan Harris, who offers her own take on the subject on her Sustainable Gardening blog. The Coalition's Web site has lots of valuable information as well as links to Madison's own Healthy Lawn Team, which is a co-sponsor of Hadden's Madison appearance.  An unexpected bonus of a visit to the coalition Web site was finding a picture of Austin blogger Pam Penick's front garden. (Mark and I had the pleasure of spending time with both Susan and Pam at the garden bloggers' 2009 Spring Fling in Chicago). 

As one who eliminated my entire back lawn in the early 1990s, I've been collecting images of landscapes with less lawn, no lawn and alternatives to the ubiquitous blue grass turf as well. So here are some of my favorite ideas to get you in the mood to shrink your lawn.

The lawnless entrance to a large house in Illinois (above) with the driveway running across the bottom of the image.

The front yard of a Victorian house on the grounds of the Chautauqua Institute (above and below) retains a bit of grass to tie it to the neighboring property.

Small, sloped and shady: A Madison front yard shows why grass isn't needed to create a beautiful entrance (above and below).

Three views (below) of a Milwaukee lot whose steep slope has been brilliantly planted for privacy and beauty.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Looking to the right at the end of the driveway (above) and looking left (below).

Olbrich's Meadow Garden is inspired by English meadow gardens, according to the staff, and features low-maintenance fescue grasses and spring flowering bulbs (below). 

SHARON CYBART / OLBRICH

"The short, drought-tolerant fescue grasses eliminate the need for high maintenance and energy consumptive lawn care," they noted in an email message. "The grasses don't require supplemental watering or fertilizer and are mowed just twice a year — once in late spring and again in late fall."

JEFF EPPING / OLBRICH

This garden has always struck me as the perfect solution to a large lot where one wants some spring color and then to take the rest of the year off. It's romantic and low maintenance — a winning combo!

Spring Fling Recap: Images and impressions

HE: I have to give the whole Spring Fling thing a big thumbs up. Now that I've had a little time to absorb it all and sort some of my thoughts and impressions, I'm really glad that we went.

First of all, Chicago is such a great city to visit, although I'm not sure I'd want to live there. I like the fact that we could take an easy bus ride from Wisconsin that didn't cost much more that driving when you consider parking, gas and tolls.

SHE: And we've taken the car to Chicago enough times for me to know that it adds pressure and subtracts pleasure for both of us. I loved the hotel they arranged for us: perfect location right in the middle of the action. Nice interior, good flower arrangements scattered about and you couldn't beat the price. I'm hoping we can figure out how to become "members" so we can stay there again! And the added bonus of the great view of all the terra cotta design details on the Rookery Building right out our window. (It's considered the oldest standing high-rise in Chicago, so why didn't we take a look inside since we were right next door? Reason enough to return.)

And as a former Buffalo gal (born and raised), let me point out that you will see some equally fabulous architecture in Buffalo, site of next year's Fling. The city is also home to the first system of parkways and urban green space designed by Frederick Law Olmsted.

HE: There's something invigorating, if perhaps a little masochistic, about walking the streets of a major city. I've always thought that Chicago has been particularly astute about picking public sculpture. Picasso, Miro, Chagal, Dubuffet (above) pop up when you least expect them.

SHE: And the "Bean" and the fountain sculptures in Millennium Park are the best interactive artworks I've seen — anywhere. You can visit them endlessly and be just as fascinated and giddy as the first time you saw them. It's still one of the few places I've been where everyone — regardless of age, gender or race — behaves exactly the same: just like a kid! Just thinking about them makes me smile.

SHE: I'm glad we came down early on Thursday. It was nice to have a day to ourselves and to adjust to city life. And we finally found the Golden Triangle, the store I've been wanting to visit since it's opening. 

HE: Yea, I liked just walking north without an agenda. If we had been on a schedule we would never have gone down that passageway you noticed and I wouldn't have got the picture of that little hidden green space among all the stone.

SHE: I may have dragged you down there, but I actually missed the view you shot. Otherwise, I would have gone up the steps to check it out. (Wait, does it sound like I kept missing the good stuff ....)

HE: In fact, it was often the intimate details of events at Spring Fling that attracted me as a photographer and that stick in my memory. Remember the gardener's bench at Rick Bayless' garden? It had so much more human content than the rest of the garden.

SHE: I think that's because the garden — even though it provides produce for the restaurant — really seemed more like a show garden or teaching garden. It was so pretty and perfect; but I guess that's how it is when you have full time gardeners. Actually, I found it interesting that the gardeners were growing food in the city rather than tending perennial borders in one of the lakeshore enclaves. That did give it a nice, quirky Midwestern touch. 

SHE: You know how every time you hand me the newspaper to read an article that you think will interest me, I read every other story on the page first? That's how I felt about the Lincoln Park Conservatory. I kept being fascinated by everything but the plants. I couldn't care less about this Venus flytrap (above), but I am absolutely in love with the Wardian case and its cache of blue glass chips. Can I have one? Please? Puuullleeeezzzeee?

HE: I don't know that I would ever have gone to see the railroad garden if we hadn't been given passes. But it was really quite enchanting. You know, we did that quite a bit this trip — choosing to do and see things we haven't on other trips to the city. 

SHE: Or even other trips to the Chicago Botanic Garden. We skipped the Japanese garden and did the tram instead. You did still have to twist my arm a bit to get me in to see the trains. I'd love to ride a real train again but these kind of set-ups usually annoy me. It was so much more creative and charming than I had imagined. Only one drawback: they didn't provide enough plant labels. I loved how they used baby trees and dwarf conifers as stand-ins to deal with the issues of scale, but I wanted names. I'd definitely duplicate some plant combos — though never the trains!

SHE: I always come away from garden tours with so many ideas — and potential solutions — for our garden. At CBG you pointed out the side by side comparison of the two colors of gravel we're contemplating for our paths. I found that heavily pruned Weeping Katsura that should help us keep ours in bounds. And this slope of perennials and shrubs — edged with those big rocks — may be the answer to how to deal with the sloping front garden where it meets our long driveway.

HE: As the photographer for our blog, the Fling was a real challenge. I know I probably shouldn't think this way, but in my mind it was something of a competition. I wonder if other bloggers felt that. I kept thinking I had to find a new angle or some detail that no one else noticed. I found myself watching to see what other people shot.

Certain subjects, like the incredible poppies at CBG, were virtual photography battle grounds. I noticed that a couple members of our group had retired to a bench and seemed to be enjoying the photographers as much as the poppies. 

HE: The other stand-out subject was the Lurie Garden in the late afternoon sun. After taking a number of pictures I realized that my real subject was the single red poppy. Including it in the composition somehow anchored the picture — like the period at the end of a sentence.

SHE: More like a scream, you mean! I would shoot myself if it intruded on my perfect river of blues and lavenders. Makes me think of that red peony in our garden that is in the same view as my ribbon of irises along the dry stream and in the bog. The one I said I think I have to move! And what about the dying bulb foliage in that photo? Nobody really knows how to deal with it.

HE: I came away from the weekend with one clear regret. The thought occurred to me late on Saturday that I should have been taking pictures of other bloggers taking pictures. I had a few but realized too late that I had missed countless opportunities. Maybe next year.

SHE: I love this portrait of Mr. Flatbush! And, even though we didn't realize it at the time, CBG was giving us a little poppy foreshadowing.

HE: I'm still enormously impressed with the generosity and organizational skill of our Chicago hosts. And if I didn't get a chance to thank you personally, I'd like to do so now publicly: You did a great job!

SHE: I loved getting to tour Carolyn Gail's house (above) as well as her garden. I am obsessed with interior paint colors and she had some great ones that showed off her artwork to perfection. (For those of you who noticed the Jeep in the front yard across the street from her house, Carolyn says the owner of the house has declared bankruptcy as a result of the economy. That's certainly a dose of reality, in the midst of her lovely neighborhood!)

HE & SHE: What were often the most memorable and instructive times — for both of us — were the intervals between events when we were able to share personal experiences and knowledge of our blogging craft. We look forward to doing even more of that next year in Buffalo.