Inspiration

Thomas Alva Edison said that "success is 10% inspiration and 90% perspiration." Clearly, that was a shorthand quip and the 10% shouldn't be given such short shrift.

This past weekend, my daughter, Laura, and I went to a showcase for ice hockey players. At this event, the players had the opportunity to be seen by prep school coaches and to speak with the coaches about their schools. My daughter shyly approached a coach whose school had denied Laura admission last year. They exchanged greetings, briefly mentioned the rejection, and proceeded to discuss the other events of Laura's year. Laura was not this man's student, nor was she one of his players. Nevertheless, this consummate educator kindly and gently offered suggestions about interview skills and also advised her on puck handling.

I must point out my admiration, as well, for my daughter. The students were encouraged to ask the coaches for feedback about the student's potential. Laura asked the coaches from three highly competitive schools to offer their opinion about her ability to play at the varsity level. That took guts. We drove like bats out of hell from Maine to New York yesterday and pulled into the ice rink with 20 minutes to spare before practice. She certainly perspired, but she came of the ice talking about how she was inspired by the level of play up at the showcase.

Gardens growing quite contrarily

I am a total Zsa Zsa in a garden; hopeless. What was I thinking when I pIanted all that broccoli and arugula this year? Okay, I actually only put in a few of the plants; my gardener took pity on the plants and put the rest in for me. I envisioned fresh broccoli, crisp lettuce, delectable tomatoes, long, luscious carrots. I made plans and Mother nature laughed so hard that we got boat loads of rain.

The plants either drowned or went to seed. The carrots started to go to seed in late June, so we- okay, Joe - pulled them out. Though short and stumpy, the carrots were actually quite sweet and delicious. The handful of peas were good too, but that poor plant was drowned. Despite valiant attempts to cut them back, I am sorry to report that neither the arugula nor the broccoli survived. Ever the optimist, I am keeping the celery in; celery root is great to use in soup stock. The tomato plants are pregnant with green orbs that are taking forever to ripen.

My failed experiment hardly reflects my abilities as a gardener. Farmers I met at my favorite markets told me to pull out plants out that had gone to seed. I may not have had a successful garden, but at least it wasn't my livelihood. Rottkamps, in Glen Head, lost an entire cabbage crop and I haven't seen any broccoli there at all. Their corn is beyond fantastic, though. Vegetable offerings at the Huntington Farmers' market on Sunday mornings are also limited. We are fortunate to have alternative food sources, but it makes you think of the many places where local is the only resource.