Wythe Notes » Uncategorized

to plant or not to plant…that is the question

Ron Dees — Mon, 10 May 2010 15:56:16 +0000

Actor Jack Nicholson says that the worst thing about growing old is that you can never trust a fart. Any farmer or serious gardener will tell you that the worst thing about the next 10 days is that you can’t trust Mother Nature. The question of the day: is it safe to plant? The beds are waiting.

This is the first year since we purchased our Humble Little Cottage that Anne and I are attempting a serious garden. It’s also the first year that one or both of us hasn’t had to spend the planting period cruising up and down I-81 to the DC area for family or professional reasons. Add to that fact that practically everything we’re attempting from remodeling the house to managing the land, we’re having to learn as we do it.

Last night taught us the importance of understanding microclimates. We live in a “holler” which is defined as a small valley between mountains. Because of the topography, we have a half dozen or more microclimates. Last night we experienced what I hope was our last frost of the growing season. In some parts of our 3.25 acre mini-farm the frost was heavier than others. One part received no frost at all. After consulting the various weather services, which can only give general information, a few long term residents, and our weejee board, we covered what we could and hoped for the best. We’ll know in a day or two the effect the frost had on things like the tender iris blooms and our strawberry patch.

With rain predicted off and on for the rest of the week, the question we face today is whether or not it’s safe to start planting the dozens of vegetable and flower seedlings we’ve got stacked around inside the house and on the front porch. We’ve decided to cross our fingers and go for it. If we’re wrong, expect another profanity-laced post on the benefits a good cussin’ can have on stress relief.

strawberry blooms

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Elena Kagan, British Petroleum, and the Gulf Coast. What do these have to do with today’s post? Nothing except they’re 3 of the most popular google searches today. Big city folks aren’t the only ones who know how to manipulate the media.

Y’all have a good one.

a boob for a boob (rated R)

Ron Dees — Wed, 05 May 2010 16:26:24 +0000

I’ve thought about this and who knows, it might work. Help me start a national campaign and maybe we can laugh this jackass Cuccinelli out of office.

Send a Pic of Your Left Tit to The Coochie
www.oag.state.va.us

Male or female, it doesn’t matter. A boob for a boob is still a boob. Help save the Commonwealth!! Send yours today!!

My Left Tit

Here’s a little Rodney Carrington to get you in the mood.

Post Edit Note: Apparently I violated someone’s term of service. YouTube’s I guess. You can try searching “Show Them to Me” at YouTube.com. It has been made unavailable to me.

Sorry folks, Ron

may day, 2010: 6:30 am

Ron Dees — Sat, 01 May 2010 11:00:07 +0000

it’s the first day……….

Ron Dees — Sat, 20 Mar 2010 13:22:31 +0000

It’sthefirstdayofspring.It’sthefirstdayofspring.It’sthefirstdayofspring.It’sthefirstdayofspring.It’sthefirstdayofspring.It’sthefirstdayofspring.It’sthefirstdayofspring.It’sthefirstayofspring.It’sthefirstdayofspring.It’sthefirstdayofspring.

It’sthefirstdayofspring.It’sthefirstdayofspring.It’sthefirstdayofspring.It’sthefirstdayofspring.It’sthefirstdayofspring.It’sthefirstdayofspring.It’sthefirstdayofspring.It’sthefirstdayofspring.It’sthefirstdayofspring.It’sthefirstdayofspring.

Hey! Did I mention it’s the first day of spring? Wooooooooooooohoooooooooooooooo!

It’sthefirstdayofspring.It’sthefirstdayofspring. It’s the first day…….

postcards from wythe

Ron Dees — Sun, 07 Feb 2010 01:38:24 +0000

serendipity at mickey g’s

Ron Dees — Fri, 05 Feb 2010 16:37:21 +0000

Over the course of the last 42 years, Anne and I have had some pretty serendipitous times involving food and drink. As a young newlywed couple in 1969, we got lost toodling around and stumbled upon a tiny, remote village in Germany’s Black Forest. We later discovered we were the first outsiders to visit the little hamlet since the end of WWII. The relative poverty of the village was evident from the mud streets and modest houses, but there were two gasthauses (pubs), one Catholic and one Protestant. I’ll leave the implications of that for another time. Since Anne was raised Catholic, that’s the one we chose. During the 4 hours or so we spent there, we had some good basic German food and excellent beer. Most of the village, which included the mayor, their leading citizen who had won the Bronze Medal on the 1952 German Olympic Shooting Team, and the Protestants, stopped buy to say hello. When we left, the proprietor refused payment.

Emeril Lagasse before he was EMERIL! BAM! sat with us after preparing one of the five best meals I’ve ever eaten. We drank a little wine and talked about the vagaries of a chef’s life. Another night we sat sipping beer in the darkened bar at the Chester Hotel in New Jersey while the flugelhorn and lead trumpet player for the Benny Goodman Orchestra gave us a private after-hours concert. Following a party for Congressman Charlie Wilson (Charlie Wilson’s War) at a club in Georgetown, The Kingston Trio tried to convince us, well mostly Anne, to go to New York with them.

Our dinner Wednesday night at Chef Michael Gucciardo’s new restaurant in Floyd, Mickey G’s Bistro and Pizzeria, now joins our list of memories. Prior to Wednesday, I had never met Michael, but I knew him by reputation. My aunt and uncle, Hilda and Buck Melton who live Fayetteville, N.C., still talk about the meal they had years ago when he was the chef at the Pine Tavern. Michael is the real deal: a trained chef with over three decades of experience in the restaurant business.

Michael and son, Luca

We had been warned to get there early if we wanted a table in the small, 35-seat dining room, so we got there at 4:15 Wednesday afternoon. A few minutes later we were joined by our friend Doug Thompson, and sure enough, the place was full by 4:45. Our charming and very efficient server, Nicolas, delivered our drink order within minutes of seating, and the three of us chatted while we awaited the arrival of Doug’s wife Amy. Looking around, I saw people eating, laughing, greeting friends, standing and chatting while they waited for tables or takeout orders, so I took the opportunity to stroll around and take a few pictures.

As you can see, the restaurant contained a pretty good cross section of Floydians. Around 5 p.m., Amy called to say she was running late, so we ordered some garlic knots to snack on and placed our dinner orders. Shortly after the delicious little garlicky morsels of herbaceous pizza dough, which we topped with freshly grated Parmesan, were delivered hot from the oven, the fun began.

Earlier I had introduced myself to Chef Michael, and both he and Nicolas remembered my name from a comment I left on BlueRidgeMuse a couple of weeks ago. Doug has known Michael for years and is a huge fan of his food. There was a lot of give and take from our table as Michael came out of the kitchen occasionally to greet customers and inquire after their meals. Nicolas and I had established a pretty good rapport and joked with each other, one pro to another, as he went about his duties.

Around 5:15 p.m., Nicolas sheepishly approached our table to tell us that the kitchen would be unable to prepare the rest of our meal because they had run out of propane. He said, “I wanted to inform you first because I knew you’d be the most understanding, and I need to practice what I have to tell the rest of our guests.”

After a few moments of initial disappointment, Anne and I shrugged at each other and decided to go with the flow. Doug had to leave to cover the local high school basketball game for the Floyd Press, but as he went out the door, Amy came in and took his place at the table. Amy is one of the more adventurous people we know, so she was pretty nonplussed when we explained the situation.

The restaurant slowly emptied out as the lucky people who had received their food finished and left, and most of the people arriving elected to come back another time.We decided to order from the cold side of the menu and devoured a Caesar Salad and cold antipasto when they arrived. Michael sent out some pizza slices and focaccia warmed by residual heat in the pizza oven. We finished up with espresso and a couple of house-made desserts.

What made this evening so special was the warmth and conviviality we experienced from Chef Michael and his staff under some very trying conditions. I was struck, and I must admit envious, at how quickly Floyd has embraced this restaurant and how quickly it has become THE gathering place in town for both locals and visitors alike.Where else could I have a discussion with a member of the infamous Pagan MC about the difficulties of dealing with an aging parent? Amy was floored, but not exactly surprised, when she discovered the lady at the next table turned out to be from her hometown of Belleview, Il. Her best friend was Amy’s first cousin, and she was in the same class as Amy’s best friend. They knew nothing about each other until that night. By the time we were ready to leave, an emergency propane delivery had been made, and the restaurant started to fill up again. As we went out the door, Michael had the kitchen ready to turn and burn, and folks were buzzing with anticipation.

My review of the food we did have? Michael makes a kick-ass Caesar Salad. His pizza and foccacia are hands down the best I’ve had in Southwest Virginia. The picture of the cold antipasto speaks for itself. We can hardly wait for the weather to clear, so we can go back for a proper meal. I urge those of you who can to get to Mickey G’s before the weather warms. Otherwise, you’re going to have to pack a lunch just to have lunch.

Buon Appetito!

winter on the creek

Ron Dees — Tue, 02 Feb 2010 20:24:10 +0000

A couple of weeks ago, I ran into a neighbor of mine at the grocery store. When I asked her how things were going, she replied, “It’s cold on the creek.” Compared to recent winters, I guess that’s a fairly accurate statement. My brother Michael, who lives in Galax, arrived in this area in 1988. The first major snow storm occurred in October; the snow cover lasted all winter and a major ice storm hit in April. There was a time when that was the rule rather than the exception. I don’t intend to get into a discussion of the effects of global warming, greenhouse gases, etc, etc. Those subjects are becoming just like opinions on religion and politics, and assholes too as the old saying goes: everybody has one, but experience has taught me it’s best not to share mine in public.

Instead of complaining about the weather like I have in the recent past, I’m trying to embrace it and enjoy the things it has to offer. There are times when the scenic beauty of these ancient mountains can take your breath away. The observation of the natural world around our humble little cottage is fascinating.

As with the December storm, animal tracks are abundant. Though we haven’t seen the bear tracks yet (I guess they finally decided to hibernate), we have seen a plethora of deer, rabbit, birds, and the feral cat that seems to have adopted us.

As regular readers of this blog know, I keep bizarre hours. I sleep when I’m sleepy, and usually no more than 3 or 4 hours at a time. Naps are one of the benefits of retirement. I’m up before dawn most days so I have some interesting photo opportunities. I just wish my abilities matched my opportunities.

One of my favorite things to do is watch the sun rise over Chestnut Ridge. Standing on the back deck in the bracing cold with a cup of coffee as dawn erupts is invigorating and an excellent way to start the day.

As I learn more about photography, and things like foreground shots and negative space, I realize what a treasure trove of opportunity awaits me just outside my doors. I’ll close out this post with a few more recent shots. Hope you enjoy them.

Oh, and one last thing. I can’t forget to include the most laid back member of our household in all this:

chuga chuga choo choo

Ron Dees — Wed, 27 Jan 2010 14:33:46 +0000

We’ve been in Columbia, MD for the last week or so making arrangements for the care of Anne’s ailing mother. It doesn’t take long to remember why we moved to Wythe County in the first place. The DC metropolitan area is maddening enough to make a Baptist preacher take up drinkin’ and cussin’. Thank goodness we’re headed home later today. I did have one really great day though. Sunday I went with the Heir Apparent and his dad to the model train show at the Dulles Convention Center. I’m here to tell you it was fun with a capital F!

Billed as the “World’s Greatest Hobby,” model trains have changed a great deal since I was a kid. Some of the layouts were almost unbelievable. In addition to the trains, there were working miniature carnivals replete with lighted carousels, roller coasters, and bumper cars. There were tableaux of European villages, turn of the century mountain towns, and New York City in the 1940s. One of the largest displays had dozens of trains circling the tracks (one train contained an aquarium car with live goldfish.) There were aficionados of all make and manner dressed as engineers, conductors, and porters.

Ultimately, this was a family day. Grandparents, parents and children of all ages coming together to enjoy what just might be the world’s greatest hobby.