I was once asked if I followed any particular rules when it comes to cooking.

Yeah,” I replied. “I never believe anyone who says they’re not hungry in my house.”

Take for example what just transpired here. It was getting way past lunch time and my wife was working in her upstairs “work at home” office while our dog finished her third nap of the day nearby. I texted her to ask if she had an interest in some breakfast sandwiches I was going to make.

“No,” she said. “I had oatmeal earlier in the day.”

Sticking with oatmeal when you can have a fresh, hot breakfast sandwich is a topic for another day, but let’s just say I remembered rule number 1 and thought “I don’t believe you.”

So I went in the kitchen and started frying some sweet Italian sausage patties. I took out my mandolin and sliced a Vidalia onion and a sweet yellow pepper very thinly. The onions and peppers went into a saute pan, and I cooked them over medium heat until they got very soft and lightly browned.

One of my oldest friends is a guy named Tim, and the last two days have bought back memories of a wonderful spring in 1978. Unfortunately, the memories have been rekindled because of the passing of key sports figures of that time.

“Our class is graduating,” I always say to Tim, as with each year it seems like people we knew have passed away.

One was Wes Unseld, who passed away Monday at the age of 74. It does not seem that long ago that Tim and I were long-haired students at Virginia Tech (much like we were last week until the barber shops opened again) and we were at his apartment, watching Game 7 of the NBA Finals.

For weeks we had heard that “The Opera Isn’t Over ‘Til The Fat Lady Sings” thanks to Bullets Coach Dick Motta, but we knew that day somebody would be singing. We watched on Tim’s 19-inch color television with no remote control and no cable (and don’t get me started on no computers or internet) but in our caveman-like accommodations, we were able to see that the Bullets had a slim 101-99 lead and the Seattle Supersonics had just fouled Unseld.

Back then, Wes was an incredible rebounder, but he shot free throws like I dance: not that well and not that often. He had only hit 55 percent of his free throws all season, but Wes was one of those players who just always seemed to get the job done when needed the most. He hit both free throws, and a few seconds later Norfolk State alum Bobby Dandridge slammed home a dunk and the Bullets won the deciding Game 7 105-99. Unseld would be named the Finals MVP.

Because I’m Italian, I can’t say hello in less than 10 minutes, so while engaging in conversation with a friend across the fence (see previous post) Maggie had her run of the yard. She’s not used to being outside for close to an hour at a time, and she particularly isn’t used to it being 90 degrees, as she was born last fall. This is her first real experience with hot, humid conditions outside.

As you can see from the picture, she prefers a cool place to nap. She immediately came inside, slurped up a significant amount of water, then grabbed one of her toys to head upstairs and see her Mom. A few moments later, the toy has been abandoned and she is snoring.

It’s good to be Maggie 😊

Was just outside with Maggie, and since our back yard adjoins the bike path that runs through Ashburn Farm, we get to see a lot of people passing by.

One friend managed to stop by, and over the fence we had a great discussion on politics. He and I are 180 degrees different in our opinions on politics, and to make it even worse, he was wearing a University of Virginia T-shirt. We even joked I needed to go inside and get something with Virginia Tech written on it to balance everything out.

We had a very spirited, yet civilized conversation. We don’t agree on much, but listened to each other. When done, we wished each other well, and I told him to come on back tomorrow and we’ll solve more of the world’s problems.

Couldn’t help but think heading back inside about how this is the way it used to be. On social media these days, it seems like with every debate, you have to state your position and then seek to destroy anyone who doesn’t see it the same way you do. Vary from the narrative, and you must be attacked.

Also couldn’t help but think how much better the country might be right now if the people we elected would listen and have reasonable, civilized discussions instead of the “my side must destroy your side” antics that seem to occur regularly. Can’t say I’m all that optimistic about that happening these days, however…

I was sad to learn of Pat Dye’s death today. I never met Pat, but for about 10 minutes over 40 years ago, our paths crossed.

He taught me a lesson that day I will always remember.

It was 1977, and the Virginia Tech football program was a mess. The Hokies had just finished 3-7-1 and a player had died in the athletic dormitories after being forced to run punishment drills. Coach Jimmy Sharpe and the entire staff were fired.

As is always the case when a coach is fired, the rumor mill immediately fired up as to who the potential replacement would be. I was the sports editor of a twice a week newspaper called the Blacksburg Sun (we even had T-shirts that said “now doing it twice a week”) and was also a senior at Virginia Tech, trying to take classes and work a fulltime job to pay the bills.

To make a few extra bucks, I also wrote some stories for United Press International, and the bureau chief in Richmond and I had become good friends (which we still are to this day). He asked if I had a story on who the potential replacements were I could send him, and given that I could write it for my newspaper, then send it to him and get an extra $15, the story moved to No. 1 on my priority list.

Back in the days before social media, rumors of who the next coach would be were usually rumors sportswriters themselves started. I’m not sure that’s changed any since that day, but if you looked at a map and tried to rationalize who would be a good coach and was nearby, East Carolina’s Pat Dye seemed like a logical choice. A columnist in the Greensboro News & Record had pretty much said the same thing, so as far as I was concerned, Dye was the leading candidate to become the next Hokie Coach.

These were the days of Watergate, and if you saw “All The President’s Men,” where Robert Redford and Dustin Hoffman were tirelessly calling everybody on the planet to chase down a lead, then you too – if you were at the young age of 21 as I was – did the same thing.

Today, Maggie is now 9 months old. Which is a pretty incredible situation given it seems like she’s been living here for the last 10 years.

As you can see, she starts her day on my lap, usually in search of treats. I made the mistake of reaching into my pocket to get my phone, and she knows now that it’s warm, I keep treats in my pants pocket instead of that of a jacket.

Any sudden move toward a pocket will draw an immediate inquiry.

Like any child, she also likes to play, and tug of war is her game of choice. If you’re trying to work on something, she gets right in your face with a toy in her mouth, and if you ignore her she will not think it’s because you don’t wish to play. She will think it’s her choice of toy, and she’ll go find another and come right back.

One of the more common refrains I heard when Maggie and I decided we didn't need to contribute to Twitter any more involved no longer being able to see pics of Maggie or the meals we eat around here.

You'll notice the rather lazy canine in the post below.

Here, is tonight's dinner. As I tend to make meals into two-day affairs, this is round 1. Each bowl has six large ravioli, and I had made a huge pot of sauce and meatballs weeks ago, with about a third of it put into the freezer for some day in the future. Today was the calendar equivalent of that player to be named later. 

The ravioli is covered in the sauce and meatballs, as well as mozzarella and pecorino romano. Combined with the riccota in the ravioli filling, that's a nice three cheese variety.

While I was cooking dinner, I noticed my trusty hound was not at my side, looking for mistakes to hit the floor.

So I went looking for her.

Apparently - as you can see -  she was worried she might pull a muscle getting ready for dinner. So she is resting until she is served her next meal, at which point she will then resume her hunt for squirrels in the backyard. 

Another sign that things may be getting better as it relates to the virus: My wife is one of those people who gets Loudoun Alerts texted to her, and during lunch she said she had gotten one warning of traffic delays because there was going to be coronavirus testing over at Bolen Park in Leesburg.

But then shortly afterward, she got another alert saying there wasn’t much traffic at all and if you wanted a test, you could come out and be tested with no wait.

Shortly after that, my favorite Ashburn site, TheBurn posted this story saying the same thing, reporting zero wait at the noon hour, which traditionally has been the busiest time.

I may be adding two plus two and getting five, but this morning I went to a grocery store and encountered few people and very little traffic on the streets, as if people had gone back to work. Then there’s a test site for the virus which last time it was run encountered a huge wave of traffic.

Today…no wait.

Something’s going on.

Just went out grocery shopping, and there are some not so subtle signs going on that things are changing here in Ashburn.

I’ve always gone grocery shopping either early in the morning or late at night to avoid a lot of people also out shopping. Since Giant stays open until 10, going there at 9 on a weeknight usually insures you’ll be lonely. With Harris-Teeter or the other stores that close at 8 PM (and it’s no longer necessary folks; go back to your normal hours) I go right when they open shortly after 6 AM.

Not today. Went at 11 AM and it was like a typical Monday a year ago. Very few cars out, very few people in the store, almost like people have decided it’s time to go back to work. The store still had some blank spots in their selection, but they had a little of everything.

Particularly noteworthy were the islands of paper towels throughout the store, as if they want to remind you to not forget picking up some; two months ago that and toilet paper were the first two things you went looking for and were often greeted by empty shelves. And yes, there was toilet paper…quite a bit in fact, and the brands had names like Charmin, versus the single ply stuff you were forced to either accept or wait until you got to the office in late March.

Yesterday I got my first hair cut since the shutdown, and now that it’s a day later, it has struck me that the solution sure ended up being awfully simple.

The barber shop in Broadlands I normally go to has six chairs, and I can’t ever remember it being so busy all six chairs were occupied. Normally you might see as many as 4 being used, but in fairness, I go there during the week when it’s not busy. On a Saturday or Sunday, maybe all six are used then.

But yesterday, all that needed to be done was not use the two middle chairs. The two on one end had a wall and the doors to back office storage facing them. The two up front ajoined the front desk and waiting area, but the shop made anyone waiting stand and wait outside on the sidewalk.

There was a steady stream Sunday morning of people showing up without an appointment because it was the first day they’d been open since the lockdown. People were immediately turned away without a mask, and the rest were allowed in 1 or 2 at a time to make an appointment, then they left.