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I was 17. I didn't know much, or anyone else, at the time, but it was Midsummer's Eve and, dammit, I was going to do something. So at sunset I went down to the woods that lined the cliffs above Lake Erie.

I knew these woods well; they were my refuge. At night, when life was too much to bear, I would stash my shoes under a log and walk the deer-paths for hours. (Bare feet will always find you a path in the dark.) Those woods saved my life.

I had no ritual, no plan, that Midsummer's Eve. As darkness grew, I followed the deer-paths farther and deeper into the forest than I'd ever gone before.

Then suddenly, through the trees: firelight. Drawing nearer, I saw that it was a large fire, very large.

I heard the violin, and the voices of people, many people. Cautiously, through the underbrush, I approached. Some were standing, talking. Some were dancing, a ring-dance around the fire. Old people, young people.

I'd gone out to find Midsummer's Eve, and I'd found it. I was fascinated. I was terrified.

I don't know how long I watched. It felt entirely natural that this should be happening: all very Old Country, somehow. Finally, moving quietly as well I knew how, I turned and made my way back through the woods.

Midsummer's Eve of the next year I went back, hoping to find them again, hoping for the courage to step out of the woods and into the firelight.

Who are you? I wanted to ask.

But that year they weren't there. I never saw them again. Who they were, or why they were there, I don't, and never will, know.

Years went by. Now I'm one of those ring-dancing around the fire, knowing full well as I do so that there are new young eyes out there among the trees, watching and waiting.

We have this thing we do in the South.  It's called Homecoming but what it really is is a chance for reprobates and prodigals to return to the church of their wasted youth and to be welcomed home.  There is always a huge spread--fried chicken and homemade cakes and eleventy kinds of deviled eggs and potato salad.

The preacher prays over the food and at the drop of a hat. Gardeners and farmers head out to the churchyard and clean up weeds around the old headstones.  There is singing and working and gossiping and visiting and tea so sweet it makes your teeth ache.

As you know, I have been travelling. I was in Britain for three weeks, returned home for five days and then set off for New York for almost a week.

All of this at harvest time. Sadness. The grapes were neglected and went to feed the possums and raccoons. There was a huge elderberry harvest but I did very little of it. Because we have two apple trees that bear fruit at different times, the apple harvest has been prolonged.  We filled our little freezer with apples destined for the cider fermenter and there are more in the refrigerator in the vegetable drawers.

Hello everyone, and welcome back to another posting! And yes - Happy Lammas everyone! What plans do you have for today? For us, it's a special one, as our beloved furbaby made it to his thirteenth year after having a few scary moments. He's getting old, slowing down, sleeping more often, but there's still those times where he dances around and plays just like when he was a kitten.

So to make today a special day, I contacted my local supermarket to see if their sushi chefs would be willing to offer their art for him and make him a birthday "cake". I thought they'd think I was a crazy cat lady, but nope - they thought it would be a cool thing to do! So after I stop by the office to get my commission check, I'm paying them a visit. I'm thinking salmon and extra tuna. And yes, his vet said "people food" is okay as the occasional treat, as long as it's plain. So don't worry, it will be sans the ginger, wasabi and soy sauce. Oh, and his present - a new collar we special-ordered with the digital camo. (Stupid clothes! haha)

It has me thinking how much it must pain those fighting overseas must feel to be separated from their furbabies, too. And yes, the love is definitely mutual. We've all seen the videos countless times, of when someone returns home, and the families rejoice. The ones with the moms and the ones with the children are always wonderful, especially the surprise ones. But I will say, the ones where the dogs see them for the first time - those are always tear-jerker moments. Let's watch a few:

(I like the wait over two minutes in for the tail to start wagging. The anticipation was killing me!)