Hold Me Tenderley: Lighting a fire

We went out of town for a few days to clear our heads and breathe some cherry wood smoke. We smoked some fresh kielbasa, baby back ribs and more.




We made a double smoked ham and cold smoked some cheese, so we made these little sandwiches for a late night snack.

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Days Aren't Long Enough

In honor of my mother.

Steve Earle & Allison Moorer: Day's Aren't Long Enough

From Washington Square Serenade

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Barbara Louise Fisher, RIP

My friends--

After a nearly 3 year fight with Ovarian Cancer my mother, Barbara Louise Fisher, passed quietly at home last night, surrounded by her husband and children.

Her passing was as her life had been, peaceful and full of grace and dignity. The people that knew her and loved her the most were close by her side, as she had always wanted it to be, and how we knew it had to be.

Barbara Louise Fisher was exceptionally strong and determined and confounded the expectations of the doctors and nurses that cared for her up to the very last days. She was counted out and stood up again more times than you can imagine.

From guidance counselor to therapist and drug and alcohol counselor and school teacher, mother, wife, friend and confidant, in all of her roles in life, the most important thing was her capacity to give to others.

She was a unique and exceptional woman and we will always remember her, talk to her, listen for her words and music, her guidance.

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No Expectations: September 11, 2007

I Come Home Wanting To Touch Everyone

The dogs greet me, I descend
into their world of fur and tongues
and then my wife and I embrace
as if we'd just closed the door
in a motel, our two girls slip in
between us and we're all saying
each other's names and the dogs
Buster and Sundown are on their hind legs,
people-style, seeking more love.
I've come home wanting to touch
everyone, everything; usually I turn
the key and they're all lost
in food or homework, even the dogs
are preoccupied with themselves,
I desire only to ease
back in, the mail, a drink,
but tonight the body-hungers have sent out
their long-range signals
or love itself has risen
from its squalor of neglect.
Everytime the kids turn their backs
I touch my wife's breasts
and when she checks the dinner
the unfriendly cat on the dishwasher
wants to rub heads, starts to speak
with his little motor and violin--
everything, everyone is intelligible
in the language of touch,
and we sit down to dinner inarticulate
as blood, all difficulties postponed
because the weather is so good.

By Stephen Dunn

Today's Song-- The Rolling Stones: No Expectations
From the Beggars Banquet Album

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Because the Night

In the midst of all the sadness of knowing that we are in the midst of the very last of my mother's days on Earth, we had a gig to cater this past weekend. A kids party for 13-18 year olds. Lamb chops, BBQ chicken, burgers, dogs, mac n cheese, corn, sugar snap peas, salad, watermelon, brownies.

Thanks to Phil, we were able to get the lamb chops at the very last minute-- we owe you again. A quick meeting at a gas station by exit 58 and we were off.

Everything was smooth, and the spot beautiful, but it was all a bit robotic with our minds elsewhere.

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Where Do The Children Play: Rememberance in forward motion

Once again, a post without food, really....I'll find something for you.

First, I want to thank everyone that has reached out with words of support or offers to help keep the train on the rails and I want you to know the tremendous feeling of support and love that I've received. I won't ever find a way to adequately express my gratitude.

The past few weeks when I've visited my parents on the weekends, I was cooking for them w/ The Wife. We grilled steaks and lobster tails, barbecued ribs and sausage. My mom really likes pulled pork. My father actually has an old Char-Griller Smokin' Pro that I bought but never assembled. She got put together recently and is named "Mini-Marge" after my Meadow Creek trailer, Large Marge. So I've been showing my dad how to cook on her. What a thrill.

Mini Marge getting loaded upTo finally be able to teach him something about cooking after everything that he has shown me how to do is a wonderful feeling and, in a way, melancholy. He was the first person I knew that cooked authentic Chinese food, by hand, at home. One of his legendary New Year's Eve parties was an Asian banquet with various dumplings and dim sum type items and a few full entrees. Amazing.

Mini Marge in action
We made a dumpling feast this past weekend and toured an amazing Asian food market on Staten Island. But, at this point, my mother can't really eat that much solid food and, even when she does, it is a few nibbles. So, at last, one of the last few tangible things I could do for her is taken away. One of the last 'pleasures' from my heart.

She knows how I feel, which is the most important thing.

I leave you this week with a song from B.B. King Live at the Regal in 1964-65. This is ripping. It's a huge file (.wav), but it just sounds so good.

B.B. King: Live at the Regal: How Blue Can You Get

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