Even with all our modern technology, this folk method is often still used to find the ideal well spot.
Out in the country we have a term used to describe the process of finding a place to dig a well. The term is “water witching” and no doubt derives from the fact that to people who don’t understand it, it appears to be magical. Another term often used is dowsing. One does not need to be a witch to find water, however.
Witching for water involves the use of a stick or metal rods. In the stick method, it is often a forked stick that is used. One side of the fork is held in each hand and the “witcher” walks around until the stick points toward the ground indicating an ideal water spot. Non-forked sticks are used as well. To witch with metal rods, any simple rod will do from welding rods to a coat hanger. They are L-shaped and the witcher hold the short end of the rods, one rod in each hand. When the rods cross or spread apart (depending on the witcher), it signals water. Depth can also be determined by stomping the ground until the rods move (the number of stomps corresponds to the number of feet deep the water lies.)
While one does not have to be a witch to find water, it is true than not everyone can witch a well. My father cannot witch water despite the fact that he has seen it done many times and strongly believes in it. In general, I think that most people would probably have a hard time accurately witching water, which is why people who can witch water are often so valuable. Even with the technology we have today, many companies will still rely on a trusted witcher to find water. Many utility companies still use rods to find leaky pipes or underground lines.
There are no positive explanations for how water witching works. One theory is that moving water creates an electromagnetic force that pulls on the metal rods. This theory does little to explain the effect of the wooden stick method, however. Another theory is that water witchers are subconsciously picking up the vibrations of the water underground with ESP and thus, subconsciously move the rods with muscle movements to minor to notice. Nothing has confirmed this theory either, however.
The fact that so little is known about water witching may be due in large part to the fact that the people who test the method are skeptics from the start and people who can truly witch water just take it as fact and don’t feel the need to prove it works any more than they feel the need to prove the sky is blue. As with anything that is not easily understood, many skeptics have tried to make their case against water witching.
One of the biggest arguments against water witching is that a person can find water almost anywhere if they drill deep enough. While this true enough, the entire point of water witching id to find where the water is closest to the surface without having to drill hundreds of feet into the ground. Skeptic also claim that people are suckered into believing they have found water by watching the person before them. They claim if a person sees someone’s stick indicate water, then they will subconsciously move their stick in the same area. A final theory is that water witchers have subconsciously absorbed enough knowledge of local geography that they know where the water is. My question: as long as they can find water, isn’t that the point?
The skeptics are welcome to believe what they want, but in my area, water witching is so common that well drillers are not at all surprised when a client tells them where they should drill due to having consulted a water witcher. My grandfather who was a champion water witcher was called by many of the neighbors to witch their wells.
On my own property we have 3 wells, all witched. The initial well for the house my mother witched many years ago walking around the yard with an apple branch lying flat on her palm until it began to spin in circles. They dug about 20 feet and hit water. The other two wells are garden wells, which we tried our own little experiment on. My mother knew which field she wanted the well in, so she used welding rods to witch a spot for it (when the rest of us were not even home). Then over the next few days, she had myself and each of my siblings witch a good spot for the well in the field. We all picked the same place without having known where the previous person found it. My mother also had a visiting friend try witching it, and he ended up at the same spot we had. What was more, all five of us determined the same depth of the water to within a foot or two of each other’s depth guess. And when we finally dug, there was the water exactly where we knew it would be.
As a final observance, most of the people I know who can witch water, can’t wear a watch without having it lose time or stop altogether for no apparent reason. A few years ago, I purchased two of the exact same watch at the exact same time in an experiment. One I wore, one I kept in another room. The one I wore was dead within two months, while the one I had kept in a separate room was still going strong keeping perfect time. I began wearing it as a replacement for the other and within a week, it was dead. Even now, I have a watch that I keep by my bedside. When I purchased it, it was in perfect time, within a week it began losing time, and is now ten minutes slow. The clock on my computer is also fifteen minutes fast for no apparent reason (though when my father had it, it kept perfect time). Maybe this means there is some scientific theory behind water witching; maybe it’s the witchers themselves and not the water that has the electromagnetic force.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Sunday, August 29, 2010
A country day walk
My boss is away for the weekend which leaves me in charge of all the phone calls and emails. I do tend to have what is a borderline phobia of telephones (if anyone happens to know if they have for name this, let me know); there is just something that makes me very, very nervous when I'm talking on them. Talking on them for too long actually stresses me out; it fries my nerves and leaves me exhausted, probably from having to work up the huge amount of energy it takes for me to make a call. On top of that, I have several craft orders for this coming weekend. As Sunday and Thursday are my only days off from work or market, I generally try to do most of my craft order work on those to two days. To put it simply, the phones were draining all my energy and I had a lot of work to do today, and only a short time to do it, and I was also sleep deprived from the market yesterday. Put it all together and it's the perfect lethal headache combination.
Feeling a headache coming on, I knew I had to take a break no matter what was on my to-do list, so I grabbed my apple basket and set out across the field for Gramma's house (she lives on the farm next door to ourselves). It's always very quiet there, especially when it's calm and sunny as it was today, and it's a great way to relax my aching head. Gramma has one of the best apple trees around (actually she used to have the absolute best, but the rabbits killed the tree a few years ago, much to my dismay) and they are perfect size for feeding our cows medicine so I headed for the tree to gather some "cow apples."
On my way, I passed by the grapes and sampled a few. Still a bit tart, but just beginning to hint at the sweet Concord goodness yet to come. About another week and they will be ready. I also passed by the best pear tree in the county (Gramma ended up with all the best fruit trees), which unfortunately has not been producing any fruit this year. But low and behold as I walked beneath the revered tree, there on one of the lowest branches was a single, juicy ripe, still firm pear, just starting to show pink on one side. It was perfect, so I took the pear picker (a long stick with a basket on it) and plucked it from the tree. My mouth watered just at the sight of it, but rather than eat it, I stuck it in my basket to save as a present for my brother, knowing that as much as I like pears, he likes them even more. Then I continued on to the apple tree.
After filling my basket and my belly with the little red beauties, I decided to take the long way home to ensure that my head received ample rest. Instead of going back down the driveway, I cut across the yard strolling beneath the English walnut trees that the squirrels have already fully ravaged in preparation for winter. I walked past the old well where the garter snakes lay absorbing the sun. I gently tiptoed through the pines by the second grape patch whose wine-making fruits were still green. And I crossed the second driveway to the grove by the pond where the corkscrew willow stood with all its gnarly branches.
A bit further in the woods, I found leaning against a tree, a pile of sticks that Poppy (my grandfather) had stored there at some point, for reasons unknown. Most of them seemed to be swirly branches that had fallen from the corkscrew willow at some point. I gathered an appropriately sized one to use as walking stick and made my way to the pond.
The bullfrogs all dove into the water as I wound around the pond, looking like dominos as they successively jumped away one by one. From the dock I stared across the water watching the dragonflies dart in and out of the cattails and the damselflies, their thin blue bodies looking like magic wands, hovering over the smooth glass-like surface of the pond. It was so serene I almost felt as though I could walk on water, though I decided against testing the theory due to my reluctance to get wet in the likely hood of failure.
I sat at the edge of the dock, dipping my toes in the water and suddenly a dragonfly landed on the boards beside me in what was a candidly magically moment. I love dragonflies, so I always get a thrill when they fly anywhere near me. After a moment, it ascended in the air, and I decided to was time to leave. I walked back across the field to return to my work, though not before sampling another half sour grape. My headache was gone and I felt reenergized by my little nature excursion. Not bad for a 30 minute walk. Who says relaxation can't be brief to be effective?
Feeling a headache coming on, I knew I had to take a break no matter what was on my to-do list, so I grabbed my apple basket and set out across the field for Gramma's house (she lives on the farm next door to ourselves). It's always very quiet there, especially when it's calm and sunny as it was today, and it's a great way to relax my aching head. Gramma has one of the best apple trees around (actually she used to have the absolute best, but the rabbits killed the tree a few years ago, much to my dismay) and they are perfect size for feeding our cows medicine so I headed for the tree to gather some "cow apples."
On my way, I passed by the grapes and sampled a few. Still a bit tart, but just beginning to hint at the sweet Concord goodness yet to come. About another week and they will be ready. I also passed by the best pear tree in the county (Gramma ended up with all the best fruit trees), which unfortunately has not been producing any fruit this year. But low and behold as I walked beneath the revered tree, there on one of the lowest branches was a single, juicy ripe, still firm pear, just starting to show pink on one side. It was perfect, so I took the pear picker (a long stick with a basket on it) and plucked it from the tree. My mouth watered just at the sight of it, but rather than eat it, I stuck it in my basket to save as a present for my brother, knowing that as much as I like pears, he likes them even more. Then I continued on to the apple tree.
After filling my basket and my belly with the little red beauties, I decided to take the long way home to ensure that my head received ample rest. Instead of going back down the driveway, I cut across the yard strolling beneath the English walnut trees that the squirrels have already fully ravaged in preparation for winter. I walked past the old well where the garter snakes lay absorbing the sun. I gently tiptoed through the pines by the second grape patch whose wine-making fruits were still green. And I crossed the second driveway to the grove by the pond where the corkscrew willow stood with all its gnarly branches.
A bit further in the woods, I found leaning against a tree, a pile of sticks that Poppy (my grandfather) had stored there at some point, for reasons unknown. Most of them seemed to be swirly branches that had fallen from the corkscrew willow at some point. I gathered an appropriately sized one to use as walking stick and made my way to the pond.
The bullfrogs all dove into the water as I wound around the pond, looking like dominos as they successively jumped away one by one. From the dock I stared across the water watching the dragonflies dart in and out of the cattails and the damselflies, their thin blue bodies looking like magic wands, hovering over the smooth glass-like surface of the pond. It was so serene I almost felt as though I could walk on water, though I decided against testing the theory due to my reluctance to get wet in the likely hood of failure.
I sat at the edge of the dock, dipping my toes in the water and suddenly a dragonfly landed on the boards beside me in what was a candidly magically moment. I love dragonflies, so I always get a thrill when they fly anywhere near me. After a moment, it ascended in the air, and I decided to was time to leave. I walked back across the field to return to my work, though not before sampling another half sour grape. My headache was gone and I felt reenergized by my little nature excursion. Not bad for a 30 minute walk. Who says relaxation can't be brief to be effective?
Thursday, August 26, 2010
A trip through time
A few relatives and I attended the Sterling Renaissance Festival this month. We generally try to go every couple of years and it's usually the highlight of our summer when we do. Attending the festival is like taking a trip through time. For starters it is basically out in the middle of nowhere, so by the time you get there, you're starting to wonder just how lost you've become, and then all of a sudden there it is. You pass through the castle gateway to enter are immediately transport to Warwickshire in the 1500's.
The streets are lined with quaint little huts and more than half of the attendees are dressed in Renaissance garb. Attending in costume always makes it more fun as you truly do feel like you're in the Renaissance world, and when you're in costume the actors will often include you in their comic improvisation (as they did the year my two siblings and I attended as the Three Musketeers and one of the actors referred to us as Athos, Porthos, and Lesbos!)
There is what I will call an actual Renaissance cult, or "true rennies" as they often call themselves who do not simply attend Renaissance Festivals, they live for them. They study the era, are adamant about historical accuracy in speech, bring the festival fun home with them (even my siblings and I have turned to jousting on bicycles at home) and never attend a festival without being properly costumed. It is not necessary to be part of the Renaissance cult to enjoy the festival, however, and there are countless normal people every weekend who enjoy the fest almost as much as the cult rennies.
Perhaps the reason the festivals appeal to such a wide range of people is due to the very fact that they are not entirely historically accurate. (Let's face it, the real Renaissance Europe was not exactly fun and games.) Renaissance Festivals tend to bring out the best of the romanticized Renaissance era that we have come to know and love through novels such as The Three Musketeers or films like Everafter and Knight's Tale (which of course are favorites among the Renaissance cult). They combine all the most enjoyable elements from the medieval and renaissance times.
The Sterling Renaissance Festival has a different theme each weekend. The weekend we went was Fantasy Costume weekend, which meant that all the geeks (myself included) were out and about dressed as their favorite fantasy characters. I went as the mother confessor from Legend of the Seeker, wearing a gown I managed to make for $5 from a tablecloth I'd purchased in a secondhand store. But by far my favorite costume of the day was the guy dressed as Mr. Tumnus from the Chronicles of Narnia. He had the furry faun legs, the horns, and a set of hooves; it was very cool. (My camera unfortunately died, so I didn't get a picture.)
The Sterling fest has fun for the entire family. The musical entertainers of the realm are always spectacular with the Empty Hats topping the list of favorites. There are musicians around every corner at the Faire, and they are all greatly talented, but there is still only one Empty Hats. They have a large following at renaissance festivals and their lively music and clever lyrics are enjoyed by all. Their song "Black Velvet Band" always gets the crowd singing along. Sharing the stages with the musicians are a variety of talent acts from Daniel Duke of Danger and his mixture of comedy and balance to Johnny Fox an authentic sword swallower.
There are dozens of shows going on from the always amusing trial and dunk, to the washer women, to the men of mud pits (who kind of look like the Geico cavemen by the end of the show). Just beware, they ask for hugs after the show. There is even usually a Shakespeare play going on at one of the stages for the so inclined, though somehow, I still seem to miss A Midsummer Night's Dream every time. Plenty of good food (don't miss the fried dough and apple dumplings for dessert) and a host of actors wandering around the grounds gives it all that Renaissance feel, though I do have admit that I found the Medieval clown with butterfly wings just a little bit creepy.
If the shows are a bit grown up for the younger festival attendees, they will certainly enjoy the rides and games. Some of them such as the throwing stars and axes will win them prizes if they hit their mark. Others such as archery allow a person a great opportunity to poke fun at themselves. I was so bad at shooting arrows, the man in charge of the area jokingly told me I had to come back when the festival closed and gather all the ones I'd shot over the roof! There is also a grove of fortunetellers ranging from tarot carders to palm readers for those curious about what the future might hold.
Lining all the streets are numerous artisans, many of whom are performing live demonstrations of their crafts. They are dressed in period costumes and only too happy answer any questions, in a Renaissance English accent of course. It's hard to give them all a thorough visit in one day, so I usually pop in and out of most them choosing 6 or 7 to really take my time in. This year those included the herb shop, the glass maker (who was giving a demonstration of how he delicately made very neat glass dragons), all of the costume vendors (I'm a total sucker period costumes), a talented fairy artist named Renae Taylor, a swordmaker, the tapestry weavers, and the leather carver, but there were ever so many more I would have camped out in as well had there been more time!
Of course the biggest draw of the Renaissance Festival is the armored joust which occurs twice a day. It takes place on the Field of Honor and often times the royal procession, led by Queen Elizabeth herself, comes to watch the knights compete. The joust is very much a performance with comical dialogue and fighting sequences. It involves both sword fighting and jousting with lances. The large draft horses they ride, though being rather historically inaccurate, are very impressive in looks for entertainment purposes. One of my neighbors who is an avid horseman had the opportunity to joust as one of the knights many years ago. He told us an amusing story about how he wanted to actually joust with the other knights, but they did not have the courage to challenge him in unscripted joust.
Before the joust, the knights vie for the crowd's attention. The side of the field my relatives and I were on loudly cheered for Sir William while the opposite side of the field gave their support to Sir Oren. Sir Oren also made an attempt to gain our side of the field by singing lyrics to "Why can't we be friends," but his efforts were futile as our half of the field continued to root for Sir William who ended up as champion of the tournament. (It makes me wonder if they change the winner every performance or if it is the same script all season) It is highly entertaining and not a performance to be missed.
All in all the Renaissance Festival makes for a fun annual outing and is well worth the hour and half drive we have to take to get there.
The streets are lined with quaint little huts and more than half of the attendees are dressed in Renaissance garb. Attending in costume always makes it more fun as you truly do feel like you're in the Renaissance world, and when you're in costume the actors will often include you in their comic improvisation (as they did the year my two siblings and I attended as the Three Musketeers and one of the actors referred to us as Athos, Porthos, and Lesbos!)
There is what I will call an actual Renaissance cult, or "true rennies" as they often call themselves who do not simply attend Renaissance Festivals, they live for them. They study the era, are adamant about historical accuracy in speech, bring the festival fun home with them (even my siblings and I have turned to jousting on bicycles at home) and never attend a festival without being properly costumed. It is not necessary to be part of the Renaissance cult to enjoy the festival, however, and there are countless normal people every weekend who enjoy the fest almost as much as the cult rennies.
Perhaps the reason the festivals appeal to such a wide range of people is due to the very fact that they are not entirely historically accurate. (Let's face it, the real Renaissance Europe was not exactly fun and games.) Renaissance Festivals tend to bring out the best of the romanticized Renaissance era that we have come to know and love through novels such as The Three Musketeers or films like Everafter and Knight's Tale (which of course are favorites among the Renaissance cult). They combine all the most enjoyable elements from the medieval and renaissance times.
The Sterling Renaissance Festival has a different theme each weekend. The weekend we went was Fantasy Costume weekend, which meant that all the geeks (myself included) were out and about dressed as their favorite fantasy characters. I went as the mother confessor from Legend of the Seeker, wearing a gown I managed to make for $5 from a tablecloth I'd purchased in a secondhand store. But by far my favorite costume of the day was the guy dressed as Mr. Tumnus from the Chronicles of Narnia. He had the furry faun legs, the horns, and a set of hooves; it was very cool. (My camera unfortunately died, so I didn't get a picture.)
The Sterling fest has fun for the entire family. The musical entertainers of the realm are always spectacular with the Empty Hats topping the list of favorites. There are musicians around every corner at the Faire, and they are all greatly talented, but there is still only one Empty Hats. They have a large following at renaissance festivals and their lively music and clever lyrics are enjoyed by all. Their song "Black Velvet Band" always gets the crowd singing along. Sharing the stages with the musicians are a variety of talent acts from Daniel Duke of Danger and his mixture of comedy and balance to Johnny Fox an authentic sword swallower.
There are dozens of shows going on from the always amusing trial and dunk, to the washer women, to the men of mud pits (who kind of look like the Geico cavemen by the end of the show). Just beware, they ask for hugs after the show. There is even usually a Shakespeare play going on at one of the stages for the so inclined, though somehow, I still seem to miss A Midsummer Night's Dream every time. Plenty of good food (don't miss the fried dough and apple dumplings for dessert) and a host of actors wandering around the grounds gives it all that Renaissance feel, though I do have admit that I found the Medieval clown with butterfly wings just a little bit creepy.
If the shows are a bit grown up for the younger festival attendees, they will certainly enjoy the rides and games. Some of them such as the throwing stars and axes will win them prizes if they hit their mark. Others such as archery allow a person a great opportunity to poke fun at themselves. I was so bad at shooting arrows, the man in charge of the area jokingly told me I had to come back when the festival closed and gather all the ones I'd shot over the roof! There is also a grove of fortunetellers ranging from tarot carders to palm readers for those curious about what the future might hold.
Lining all the streets are numerous artisans, many of whom are performing live demonstrations of their crafts. They are dressed in period costumes and only too happy answer any questions, in a Renaissance English accent of course. It's hard to give them all a thorough visit in one day, so I usually pop in and out of most them choosing 6 or 7 to really take my time in. This year those included the herb shop, the glass maker (who was giving a demonstration of how he delicately made very neat glass dragons), all of the costume vendors (I'm a total sucker period costumes), a talented fairy artist named Renae Taylor, a swordmaker, the tapestry weavers, and the leather carver, but there were ever so many more I would have camped out in as well had there been more time!
Of course the biggest draw of the Renaissance Festival is the armored joust which occurs twice a day. It takes place on the Field of Honor and often times the royal procession, led by Queen Elizabeth herself, comes to watch the knights compete. The joust is very much a performance with comical dialogue and fighting sequences. It involves both sword fighting and jousting with lances. The large draft horses they ride, though being rather historically inaccurate, are very impressive in looks for entertainment purposes. One of my neighbors who is an avid horseman had the opportunity to joust as one of the knights many years ago. He told us an amusing story about how he wanted to actually joust with the other knights, but they did not have the courage to challenge him in unscripted joust.
Before the joust, the knights vie for the crowd's attention. The side of the field my relatives and I were on loudly cheered for Sir William while the opposite side of the field gave their support to Sir Oren. Sir Oren also made an attempt to gain our side of the field by singing lyrics to "Why can't we be friends," but his efforts were futile as our half of the field continued to root for Sir William who ended up as champion of the tournament. (It makes me wonder if they change the winner every performance or if it is the same script all season) It is highly entertaining and not a performance to be missed.
All in all the Renaissance Festival makes for a fun annual outing and is well worth the hour and half drive we have to take to get there.
The Empty Hats tearing up the Shire.
Sir Orin and Sir William charge each other with lances.
Johnny Fox swallows a sword: Don't try this at home kids.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Ah, a sure sign of late summer, I awoke this morning to the heavenly aroma of mom's tomato sauce cooking on the stove. No other scent in the world can compare (except maybe that of frying bacon). Smells like autumn is on it way!
"Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns." - George Eliot
"Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns." - George Eliot
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Blueberry Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Muffins
Having been unable to find a blueberry muffin recipe that I really liked, I created my own. It contains less sugar and more blueberries than most and for an extra punch of tastiness, I mixed in some oatmeal and some chocolate chips. I've been eating these all week and haven't wanted to destroy the evidence yet, so I'll post the recipe. I actually sold a few plates of these at the stand this week, so apparently others find them edible as well (a rare occurrence that I'll be sure to savor). Enjoy.
Ingredients:
1 cup of all-purpose flour
1 cup of rolled oats (oatmeal)
1/2 cup of whole wheat flour
1/2 cup of sugar
1/2 tsp of salt
1 tbs of baking powder
1 1/4 cups of milk (I used raw milk, but 2% or even skim would probably work fine)
1 egg
1/3 cup canola (or similar) oil
1 tsp vanilla
1/2 pint blueberries
1/2 cup chocolate chips
Mix the dry ingredients in one bowl and the liquid ingredients in a separate bowl. Slowly add the liquid ingredients to the dry, adding in blueberries and chocolate chips. Stir until blended and a batter forms.
Spoon the batter into muffin pan filling each cup 1/2 to 3/4 high. Bake at 400 degrees for around 20 min. Muffins are done when firm to the touch and tops are golden brown.
Makes 12-15 muffins
Ingredients:
1 cup of all-purpose flour
1 cup of rolled oats (oatmeal)
1/2 cup of whole wheat flour
1/2 cup of sugar
1/2 tsp of salt
1 tbs of baking powder
1 1/4 cups of milk (I used raw milk, but 2% or even skim would probably work fine)
1 egg
1/3 cup canola (or similar) oil
1 tsp vanilla
1/2 pint blueberries
1/2 cup chocolate chips
Mix the dry ingredients in one bowl and the liquid ingredients in a separate bowl. Slowly add the liquid ingredients to the dry, adding in blueberries and chocolate chips. Stir until blended and a batter forms.
Spoon the batter into muffin pan filling each cup 1/2 to 3/4 high. Bake at 400 degrees for around 20 min. Muffins are done when firm to the touch and tops are golden brown.
Makes 12-15 muffins
Friday, August 6, 2010
As the self proclaimed world's worst cook, I'm generally hesitant to try anything new when it comes to matters of the kitchen. My unfortunate cousin can attest to my experiments with toasted cheese as I gave him the options between extra crispy and char broiled. However, when I saw the blueberry pints being brought out across from me at the market, I caved in.
I rather have a weakness for blueberry muffins so I decided to try and learn to cook them without killing myself or anyone else in my path. Well, in this particular attempt at creating somewhat edible culinary delights, I succeeded. They really weren't bad considering the recipe I pulled off the internet had about thousand ingredients. Now, however, having made them once, I shall attempt to drastically alter the recipe to make it a bit more to my liking (which translates as simpler). If this works, I will post the recipe, if not, I will bury any evidence that I ever tried to make my own recipe...
I rather have a weakness for blueberry muffins so I decided to try and learn to cook them without killing myself or anyone else in my path. Well, in this particular attempt at creating somewhat edible culinary delights, I succeeded. They really weren't bad considering the recipe I pulled off the internet had about thousand ingredients. Now, however, having made them once, I shall attempt to drastically alter the recipe to make it a bit more to my liking (which translates as simpler). If this works, I will post the recipe, if not, I will bury any evidence that I ever tried to make my own recipe...
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Archive
I thought it was time to maybe separate my blog from my website so here it is, the new blog (yes, I'll probably decide it was a better idea to have it actually on the site, but until then, here it is). I hope to be a bit more diligent with this than I have been the last couple months (last posting having been in February I believe). It's been a good summer though and I've been enjoying it so much that I guess I just neglected the blog.
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