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Hello, I’m Veronica

The sky is not completely dark at night. Were the sky absolutely dark, one would not be able to see the silhouette of an object against the sky.

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    Hitting the Sweets Spot

    My brother owns a vintage Ferrari – not as pricey as it might sound. One of his neighbors sold him the 1960s-era car for cheap, in far less than mint condition, and he spent years bringing it back to life. I’ve never had an interest in a Ferrari myself. However, if I change up just two vowels in the word (the “a” and the “i”), I come up with Ferrero.  Okay, now you have my attention.

    Ferrero is a remarkable success story for a family business, especially considering its start as a modest pastry shop in a small town in northern Italy.  Two brothers: Pietro with a love of creating new products and Giovanni a natural at networking, grew the business across the region over the years, but it wasn’t until they handed the reins to son Michele that Ferrero became a household name.  Today, the “sweets-packaged food company” is one of the world’s largest, boasting an entire supermarket aisle worth of products.

    Let’s start with Nutella (just like Ferrero did when they moved beyond pastries).  Nutella was created as a spin on chocolate with the intent of making it more affordable.  Add hazelnuts plentiful in local orchards and Ferrero came up with the butter-like confection the world knows so well today.  That product all by itself would’ve been considered a success story, but since then Ferrero grew their sweets umbrella to a gigantic list… and one from which I’ve sampled way too many times.

    Begin anywhere you want by adding sugar and you’re probably talking Ferrero.  How about Tic Tac?  It’s a Ferrero product.  I’d love to know how many (hundreds? thousands?) of boxes of Tic Tac I’ve consumed over the years, with the excuse I always had a breath mint nearby when I needed one.  My choice was the standard white “Freshmint”, but there’s a flavor for everyone now, including the orange “Citrus”, pink and white “Strawberries and Cream”,  and even brown “Dr. Pepper”.

    Ferrero also commands a good share of the candy bars you’d find at your nearby 7-Eleven.  Take your pick from 100 Grand, Baby Ruth, Butterfinger, Chunky, Oh Henry, or Crunch – they’re all Ferrero now.  If you don’t recognize that last one, it’s because Ferrero (or actually Ferrara – one of their subsidiaries) reduced the word “Nestlé” to a really small font on the label.  It’s true; a Nestlé Crunch bar may still be produced by Nestlé but it’s now licensed by Ferrero.

    Maybe you’re a fan of movie candy.  You’ll also find Ferrero at the theater, whether you choose a box of Goobers, Raisinets, or Sno-Caps.  Cookies instead?  How about the Mother’s Cookies brand?  Their pink/white “Circus Animals” and frosted “Taffy Sandwich” cookies still tug at my taste buds.  Or maybe you go for those bite-sized  Famous Amos chocolate-chip cookies.  Amos may not sound Italian but he’s in the Ferrero family now.

    When I first met my wife she introduced to me to Fanny May “premium gourmet” chocolates.  It was the first time my allegiance to See’s Candies was tested.  Trust me, it’s hard to beat a Fanny May milk chocolate vanilla buttercream.  For that matter, raise your game with a cherry-filled Mon Chéri or a gold-foiled Ferrero Rocher .  Each of these indulgences – except See’s – are now Ferrero.

    Which brings me to the ultimate get.  The list I’ve covered is not even half of the name brands you’ll find at Ferrero but last year they might’ve reeled in their biggest fish yet… Kellogg’s.  Seriously, who among us hasn’t had a bowl (or a hundred bowls) of Kellogg’s breakfast cereal?  When I was a kid there always seemed to be a box of Corn Flakes, Special K, or Raisin Bran in the pantry (none of which I was crazy about) and better yet Apple Jacks, Froot Loops, or Honey (Sugar) Smacks.  You’ll find a lot more choices than those on the cereal shelves, and in every case you’re talking Ferrero as much as Kellogg’s.

    As much as I’ve enjoy Ferrero’s products, virtually all of them are past memories.  I’ve moved on to more “adult” choices (translation: way less processed sugar).  So I made myself a wager before I checked: There are no Ferrero products in my pantry.  And then I promptly lost the bet – twice.  I found a box of Raisin Bran (how’d that get in there?) destined to hit its expiration date sooner than the cereal bowl.  And I found a box of Nonni’s, which are pretty darned tasty for an off-the-shelf brand of biscotti.  I’m starting to think I took the wrong approach with today’s topic.  Maybe my lead question was meant to be: what products aren’t under Ferrero’s umbrella?

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    Don’t Fence Me In!

    Early on in the Christmas classic It’s A Wonderful Life, there’s a scene where George Bailey absentmindedly strolls back and forth on the sidewalk in front of Mary Hatch’s house, dragging a stick along her fence. Mary sees him from an upstairs window, leans out and yells, “What are you doing… picketing? It’s a great line, wordplay on her front yard fence.

    For generations, picket fences have stood hand-in-hand with the American houses immediately behind them. These quaint-looking property markers are considered symbols of middle class prosperity and an idyllic family life. Even the “American Dream” includes a white picket fence.  But maybe no longer. The dream seems to have been updated. Americans no longer want pickets… they want walls.

    Privacy with plastic

    As much as I want to believe a high, solid fence is merely the mark of an eccentric neighbor, facts don’t lie.  Suburbia is abandoning the picket fence in favor of taller, more robust barriers.  A Connecticut fencing company used to fill 40% of its orders with pickets.  How many orders have they had for the low white fences in 2026?  Zero.  Instead they’re filling a demand for panels of plastic (PVC) seven feet on a side, mounted between even higher columns.  The welcoming American cottage is turning into the locked-down American fortress.

    One could blame the abandonment of pickets on cost and maintenance.  After all, wood needs to be kept dry and repainted to avoid rot, while PVC is less expensive and lasts a whole lot longer.  Fencing companies tried switching out wooden pickets for plastic ones but apparently the open look isn’t “closed off” enough for today’s preference.  There’s a concerning motive at work here.  People no longer want to know what’s going on beyond their fences (or even more concerning, they don’t want you to know what’s going on behind them.)

    To each their own but I’m still a fan of pickets.  They define a property yet don’t remove the “welcome” because they’re short and have gaps.  You can easily chat up your neighbor whether you’re twenty feet removed or right up against the fence.  As for the look, pickets don’t have to be boring, pointy stakes.  They can be crowned with spades, spears, balls, crosses, fleur di lis (for you French-Americans) or whatever else your circular saw can come up with.  

    A high, imposing fence is the last thing I’d want surrounding my property.  Having said that, the first house my wife and I bought had one on three sides.  We lived on a California postage-stamp, with both neighboring houses on minimum setbacks.  Without the “privacy fence” we’d be looking from our windows right into theirs.  It takes awhile to forget what you’ve seen when a neighbor doesn’t draw down the bathroom shade.

    Three-board fencing

    Our next couple of houses had no fences at all.  The properties were bigger so privacy was solved by distance instead of by division.  As for the house we live in now, we’re surrounded by “three-board” fence consistent with the other properties in our community.  Three-board is designed to keep horses in the pastures where they belong, but doesn’t wall you off from your neighbors.  A three-board is anything but a privacy fence and that’s fine with me.  I just wish it was made out of pickets instead.

    The math on a picket fence to replace my three-board is not what I’d hoped.  Surrounding our five acres would take upwards of 1,000 pickets.  Oof.  There’s a lot “at stake” there, not to mention our horses would happily step over in pursuit of greener pastures.  I’ll just stick with what I’ve got.  There’s a wonderful life on the other side of my fence and I can still see it.

    Some content sourced from the Pocono Record article, “Picket fence adds privacy, security with classic style”, and the U.S. Sun article, “Is the white picket fence completely dead?”

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    Best Feet Forward

    Remember the scene at the end of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade where Indy chooses from a dozen or more chalices in hopes of finding the Holy Grail?  The correct cup turned out to be the most modest of them all.  Starting this month, forty-eight soccer teams vie for their own Holy Grail (an entirely immodest cup), across sixteen venues jam-packed with thousands of delirious fans.  This month, North America welcomes the madness that is the World Cup.

    Let me admit right up front, I am a sports fan but not a soccer fan.  I’ve enjoyed the American version of football as long as I can remember but not so much the other version made popular by the World Cup.  By the standards of a lot of sports, soccer can be described as slow, boring, and low scoring.  But of course, any soccer aficionado will tell you there’s more to enjoying the game than meets the eye; much more.  Maybe the 104 matches over the next six weeks will get me to agree.

    Defending champ Argentina

    I won’t waste this space on a primer on soccer; not even the complicated format of the World Cup competition itself.  Your favorite browser or AI will be happy to fill in those fútbol blanks.  Instead, I want to focus on what lies just outside of the Cup.  You’ll find headlines and curiosities that wouldn’t have happened without this event, but are perhaps more interesting than the kicks on the field…

    for instance…

    Trivia question: How many teams sought qualification to become one of the forty-eight participating in this year’s World Cup?  I’ll give you a hint: We have 195 recognized countries in the world.  Would you guess 150 teams?  125?  100?  Sorry, you’re heading in the wrong direction (and it’s a trick question).  There were over two hundred soccer teams when the qualifying rounds began almost three years ago.  How that number was whittled to forty-five (plus one each for host countries Canada, U.S., and Mexico) would take way more words than I am allotted today.

    Here’s something less trivial.  One of six teams is destined to hoist the Golden Ball trophy (worth about $10M all by itself): England, France, Spain, Portugal, Brazil, or Argentina.  Maybe your sentiments lie with one of the host teams but the facts and the resumes don’t lie: Europe and South America have dominated professional soccer for decades.  Baseball may be as American as apple pie, but we’re talking about a sport for the legs, not the arms.  Having said that, you won’t have to wait long to get your first look at the Americans.  We “kick off” against Paraguay tomorrow night.

    The Gold Ball goes to the winner

    If you’re looking for a longshot to win this thing (and I mean l-o-n-g-g-g-g-g-g shot), choose one of the teams from Curacao, Jordan, Uzbekistan, or Cape Verde.  These countries are playing in the World Cup for the first time (and the World Cup’s been going on for a hundred years).  To me, curacao is a liquor that tastes like Triple Sec.  Jordan is a man’s name.  Uzbekistan is somewhere in Asia surrounded by countries whose names I also can’t pronounce.  And (Cape) verde means green in Spanish.  Notice nowhere here am I saying anything about the talents of their World Cup soccer teams.

    Speaking of alcohol, it’ll be interesting to see how the fortunes of the beer, wine, and liquor producers are swayed by the World Cup.  With sixteen stadiums and 104 matches, you’d expect a boost in drink sales big enough to create Niagara Falls.  Unfortunately for them, the World Cup is hosted by a continent where drinking is descending to record low levels, with the younger generations promoting the idea alcohol “is bad for your health”.  Maybe fans will raise a glass of milk to the winner like they do at the Indianapolis 500.

    The final match will be held in New Jersey’s MetLife Stadium

    Like the receiving line at a wedding, I’d love to meet every one of the World Cup fans who make it to the final match in New Jersey’s MetLife Stadium.  Why?  These people must do some pretty remarkable things for a living.  Even with the likelihood the host countries will not be represented, a ticket is projected to set you back between $15K and $20K.  Fifteen thousand American dollars for three hours of sport.  Throw in peripheral expenses and a family of five could easily spend six figures.  It’s kind of nuts.  No, it’s a whole bowl of nuts.  And mark my words, every last seat in MetLife will be filled.

    That could be me sprawled on the grass

    There’s a lot more to be said about the World Cup, and I’ll be tempted to keep you updated over the next six weeks.  In the meantime I need to get back to my regular routine.  Game #1 and #2 take place today and I have no intention of sitting down to watch.  I may kick myself for my lack of attention but hey, now there’s a great way to describe my ability to play soccer.

    Some content sourced from the CNN Sports article, “World Cup beginner’s guide…”, the CNN Sports article, “Who are the World Cup favorites?,  the CNN Sports article, “The World Cup debutants…”, the CNN Sports article, “Why sky-high ticket prices have sent fans searching…”, and Wikipedia, “the free encyclopedia”.

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    Beachy Keen

    South Carolina’s heat and humidity are quickly moving the dial to “broil” – as they always do this time of year – so my wife and I will go with our most dependable coping mechanism: travel to places other than South Carolina. Technically that’s not quite true because one of those destinations is still South Carolina. Doesn’t matter. The goal is to find temperatures closer to the “bake” setting, where the air movement qualifies as a breeze. Both conditions can be found, of course, at the beach.

    I consider myself fortunate to have grown up near a beach.  Others may counter by saying the mountains are more desirable, or the desert, or the shores of a pristine lake.  To each their own.  For me, an upbringing of Pacific Ocean sand and surf turned the calm of the coast into a part of my DNA.  I thirst for the beach several times a year.  And in the United States alone, I have 650 choices.

    Mauna Kea Beach on Hawaii’s Big Island

    Inevitably, 10 of those 650 beaches are rated as “top”.  The so-called authority on the subject is a guy nicknamed Dr. Beach.  At first I scoffed at the notion that one person could choose the ten best from hundreds, but this doctor takes his medicine seriously.  Dr. Beach has identified fifty criteria (fifty!) to evaluate beaches, including water warm enough to swim in, sand clarity, presence of pests (like mosquitos and seagulls), and the size of the ocean waves.  He even rates the surrounding noise level generated by humans.

    To further solidify his credentials, Dr. Beach disqualifies locales threatened by pollution, erosion, or out-of-control seaweed.  He “retires” beaches that have reached the top ten too many times since he started his lists (in 1991).  Finally, Dr. Beach has visited every… single… one… of those 650 beaches.  He may be obsessed with his subject but I’d say he’s a bona fide authority, wouldn’t you?

    Caladesi Island State Park in Clearwater FL

    On his list for 2026, Dr. Beach prescribed four in Hawaii, three in Florida, one in Cape Cod, and one in the Hamptons.  His tenth selection, coming in at #7, is right here in South Carolina.  Whew, that was close.  After all, he could’ve picked MY beach and then me and the good doctor would be having a serious conversation.

    As you know, the problem with top-ten lists is exposure.  Something or somewhere great suddenly becomes headline news and everyone wants a piece of it.  Next thing you know that thing or that place becomes too popular, and no longer resembles its former wonderful self.  With all due respect to Dr. Beach’s “retirement” strategy, once something becomes “top-ten” we’re not quick to forget about it.

    Cape Cod gets busy in the summer months…

    I’ve been to a few of Dr. Beach’s top choices for 2026.  Maybe not Coast Guard Beach in Cape Cod, but just about every beach on Cape Cod is bucolic.  Maybe not Caladesi State Park in Clearwater, Florida but I’ve dipped my toes in the sugar sand and warm waters of a beach in Clearwater.  I’ve been to Poipu Beach on the island of Kauai, Hawaii twice, for my honeymoon and for a family reunion.  I’m happy to see Poipu ranked as the #1 beach in the United States this year.

    Poipu Beach in Kauai HI

    I’m even happier to see my two favorite beaches not ranked in the top ten (or anywhere near it) this year.  One is on the West Coast and one is right here in South Carolina.  One is big and one is small.  Both have easy access to the quaint shopping of a nearby village.  And both have the kind of views where walking, riding bikes, or simply staring out at the sea never gets old.  The names of these beaches are…

    Nope.  Sorry, no big reveal.  Not even the tease of a photo.  There aren’t a ton of you readers out there but it only takes one to make my beaches go viral, and then what am I going to do?  Find another couple of beaches?  Uh-uh, no way.  Go find your own beaches.  You have 650 to choose from.  And God forbid Dr. Beach ever ranks mine in his top ten.  If that happens I’ll report him to the “surf board” and demand they pull his license.

     Some content sourced from the CNN Travel article, “Hawaii and Florida top list of best U.S. beaches…”, and Wikipedia, “the free encyclopedia”.

  • Make My Moon a Double

    May’s flowers blooming from April’s showers have been a little hard to find this year. Maybe that’s because we haven’t had any showers. South Carolina just endured its fourth driest April in well over a century. We’re finally getting some moisture but it’s going to take a whole lot more to move us from “severe” to “moderate” on the drought scale. On the other hand May’s full moon was right on time… and it’s going to be right on time again.

    A bookend is “one or two things occurring or located at either end of something else”. It’s not the sexiest of words but it’s entirely fitting for today’s topic. A full moon rose on May 1st and it’ll rise again on May 31st, like a pair of shiny silver dollar bookends. I think it’s mesmerizing to look at the full moon on a pitch-black night.  And two full moons? Well that’s just double the pleasure.

    May’s first full moon came with the label Flower Moon, to acknowledge “landscapes erupting into bloom”.  No sir, not even close.  If you ask me this year’s May 1 moon should’ve been named Weed Moon because weeds were about the only thing erupting around here.  No matter what grows or doesn’t grow the rest of the month, May’s other full moon will be Blue Moon because that’s what we call the second one in a calendar month.  You only get a Blue Moon ever two or three years.

    I get a Blue Moon every two or three weeks, but now I’m talking about beer instead of Earth’s solo satellite.  I’m not a big beer drinker but a Blue Moon adorned with its signature orange slice sure hits the spot after hot and sweaty yardwork.  Molson-Coors has been brewing Blue Moon since 1995 and they’ve put several taste spins on it, like Honey Moon, Harvest Moon, and Full Moon.  This time of year you can purchase a six of Rising Moon, which amps up the citrus flavors in anticipation of summer, but I’m still inclined to go with the original Blue.

    Speaking of full moons, we should be happy ours is a perfect sphere (save for a few craters).  The technology of the James Webb Space Telescope is teaching us a lot more about the other planets in our solar system.  Neptune, the most distant of the eight (with apologies to little Pluto, kicked out of the club in 2006) has sixteen moons, but most of them look like orbiting shards instead of spheres.  Triton, Neptune’s largest moon, made like a bowling ball back when it entered the planet’s gravitational pull, busting up a beautiful array of perfectly round orbs.  Imagine if our moon looked like a shard instead of a ball.  We wouldn’t be talking about full moons at all, let alone blue ones.

    The “calendrical” Blue Moon from December 2009

    The upcoming Blue Moon gets its name from an utter lack of imagination.  I was hoping the word would refer to the moon itself, perhaps the result of some lunar bioluminescent algae like you see with an ocean red tide.  Or maybe the blue would represent the tears of Luna, the Roman goddess of the moon, crying over some mythological misfortune.  Instead, a “blue moon” is actually caused by Earth, in the rare occurrence where our forest fires or volcanoes generate atmospheric emissions which really do shade the moon blue.  I’ve never seen this phenomenon before but even if I did, it probably wouldn’t come with a full moon.  C’mon, we need a better name for “second full moon in a calendar month”.  I propose “Déjà vu Moon”.

    Speaking of déjà vu, you might have read about full moons in this blog before, in my post Sphere Elegance.  It’s a little nostalgic to read something you wrote ten years ago.  The focus back then was more on the science and less on the entertainment value (I’ve learned to flip-flop the two over the years since), but at least I was consistent with the definitions and my affection for the like-named beer.  Hey, maybe I should address this topic every ten years.  Then I could say I was writing about it, you know… once in a blue moon.

    Some content sourced from Wikipedia, “the free encyclopedia”.

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The sky is not completely dark at night. Were the sky absolutely dark, one would not be able to see the silhouette of an object against the sky.

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