Opening Day, thank God, is on the horizon. Last Sunday, while en route somewhere in the car, I popped an exhibition game on the radio and listened to an inning or two of relaxed banter interspersed with game narrative: spring training for the ear. 

Each new sports season promises a new… Read full post »

Enjoy.

Words and pictures © 2011 AtHome Pilgrim.

All Rights Reserved. Read full post »

pencil thin

even

diminutive 

tough stock

though:

persevering 

glinting eye

and

loving spirit 

spartan taste

fully

unpretentious 

sad pleasure

when

brought by hija 

joy again:

arriving

second hija 

loneliness

of the

lingering life 

relief comes:

united agai… Read full post »

I’ve been in the “accidental profession”—book publishing—for nearly 35 years now, and I’ve never lost my love for the variety and individuality of typefaces.*

Variety because you can choose from among serif, sans serif, or script fonts, old style or new style; indi… Read full post »

About two months ago, when Mrs. P was on her way home from work one dark Friday in the still-chill winter, she had a close encounter of the third kind with one of Bucks County’s ubiquitous deer.  

The creature came from the opposite side of the road, entering the roadway just… Read full post »

One of my favorite recurring memories of childhood—the very opposite of a recurring nightmare—is the smell of Grandma’s kitchen on Sunday. It was the aroma of pasta sauce* cooking for hours, the aroma of famiglia—the essence of love.

In warm weather, when the windows were open… Read full post »

Once, years ago, I heard that pancakes came here from Sweden. It appealed to my half-Swedish self, but it’s silly, of course, since scores of cultures have some version of a quick-cooking, griddle-cooked batter cake.  

Still, it seems somehow right that my passion for pancakes might s… Read full post »

“Wake me up tomorrow morning when you do the pig.”

“Are you sure? I mean, it’s like one in the morning now, and we’ll be getting up at six to put the pig in the oven to make sure it cooks long enough.”  

Number One Son was adamant: “Cousin Doc and… Read full post »

Two years ago today, Open Salon became a lucky place. That was the day that Torman, David McClain, decided to grace this site with his blog.

My man would probably scoff at the use of the word grace. He’d say, with his Texas drawl, “Why I’m just an… Read full post »

There I was, trying to write a pithy statement about the rise of identity theft (don’t ask why), happily typing along.

“The ease of access to personal information through the Internet has significantly increased the . . .”

and there, with eager fingers poised lightly on the k… Read full post »

Ah, the orchids. 

Waldor Orchids, a New Jersey grower, has a magnificent exhibit of its plants each year. This year’s was built around information about a French firm (the show was themed “Springtime in Paris,” right?) that did pioneering work in orchids. I did not read the inf… Read full post »

Finally, as promised a week ago yesterday, here are some pictures from this year’s Philadelphia Flower Show, which dazzled our visiting friends from Ithaca so thoroughly that they kept the glow after returning from the show last Sunday evening even after learning that a foot of snow was fa… Read full post »

Last week, or the week before, prior to the complete melt at any rate, the Pilgrimage was visited one morning by dozens of blackbirds—Brewers’, red wings, and starlings with the odd cowbird in the mix.  

They wheeled en masse into the yard to feed at the feeders. Spotting the co… Read full post »

Today, we’re going to have a little fun. I hope. 

March Madness is nearly upon us, and while my taste in sports runs more to the clearly mercenary, rather than the sub rosa gladiators, it is undeniable that the NCAA tournament—aka “The Big Dance”—has spawned the cat… Read full post »

Tuesday, Mrs. P and I were surprised by a visit from one of my college roommates. A constant traveler, he had called from the Philly airport to say that he had just landed and would be driving to central Jersey for a dinner meeting. He wondered if he could stop by… Read full post »

The morning sky was still black, but a patch of bright light shone on the darkling stairs when I emerged from our bedroom. Halfway down, standing in the nearly rhomboid patch of illumination, I paused to look out the front hall window.

There, suspended in the flat black sky was the la… Read full post »

 A funny thing happened to Saturday’s expectation that I was over the hump with work and would be able to visit here on a more regular basis again.

A couple of hours after I posted yesterday, our router died, leaving us without, as they say, Internet access. There was a quite… Read full post »

Gone now the snow in all but shadowed place:

Unseasonable, most reasonable

Warmth visited for brace of days to chase

Bracing cold, respite most agreeable. 

Before snow departed, still cold morning

Offered vision of seasonal contest,

As hints of spring delivered light warning

That churlish… Read full post »

Hi. You might remember me—I used to hang out here . . . .  

When last we met, over two weeks ago, I hoped to meet a deadline early enough in the day  to come back and visit. Well, I didn’t.

And then several more deadlines loomed over the past… Read full post »

Well, we didn’t get two feet of snow, or one foot of snow, or even six inches of now. Here, it’s all ice, much to the chagrin of the Big Maple. 

(Notice that even the squirrels and birds have given up on feeding.) 

The tall birch to the side of our… Read full post »

We met, I believe, over orchids. She said, I think, “You show me yours, and I’ll show you mine.” 

That was tricky, because I actually don’t have any orchids of my own (not trusted with them, you know), and, while I’m afraid of the lady on the other end of the… Read full post »

OS is blessed with many talented writers and many talented artists. Then there are the rare treasures who are both. Like greenheron. 

She has said (in “Green’s Fifteen”) that writing is her third love. That may be: I am certainly in no position to dispute her. But don’t y… Read full post »

Yes, it was a winter wonderland. 

Yes, today it’s sparkling in the sun like lovely gems. 

But there was tons of it. 

So much that the Big Maple was burdened down to, well, not the ground, but the top of the snow. 

… Read full post »

Trig’s cranky and the smith’ry COS

Did ger and gamble in the dave

All fernsy were the glover-joans,

And the mime katz owl-kate. 

Brawer the Jabberwock, my son!

The spuds that bite, the s’bugs that catch!

Brawer the jerry bird, and shun

The fusuna Bellwether-catch! … Read full post »

I am mush. 

I am all softness: no hard edges;

not the cuddly innocence of a newborn,

but the bloated softness

of the atrophied effete. 

My soft belly reflects an equally

mushy mind, incapable of depth,

unable to muster complexity, feeding

amoeba-like only on one-celled ideas… Read full post »