Icy Wind Part II

I should have known better. I REALLY should have known better. I complained about my plight of getting sacks into the car in the icy wind. I repeat... I SHOULD have known better than to whine about such a little thing. I only invited more. I got more.

I had no sooner clicked the ‘publish’ button on Icy Wind, then I heard something bang. It sounded like it was on or near my house. Of course... we have an icy wind. I decided to investigate, so bundled up for the outside and headed out to see about it.

Good Gussie! There was a piece of the metal strip along the eave of my house just hanging there and banging with the wind. ‘Now what?!’ I thought.

It is times like this that I long with a lingering longing for a husband... Not just any husband, but one who can do all things well with construction, electric, or plumbing. I’m not sure such a one exists, but it is at times like this that I really really want one!

Not having such a manly man around the house, I’m pretty much on my own. Right Back isn’t around at the moment, so we are back to ‘I’m On My Own’. It is time to kick in Problem Solving 101.

I need a ladder. I need nails. I need a hammer. I need a man.
I have a ladder. I have nails (but not siding nails). I have a hammer.
Where is my man?

Problem: It’s cold. It’s windy. I don’t WANT to go!!
I grab my coat. I can’t get it zipped correctly.
I fasten my hood... drawstring tight.
I can’t turn my head with my hood on. Undo hood.
I put nails in my pocket.
I can’t get the nails out with my gloves on.
Nix the gloves.
Coat open, hood off, no gloves.
I head out to get the ladder. Lovely.
Of course, the ladder is a paint one, not a lean against the house one.
I find some metal to put under the ladder so it won’t tip in the wind.
I believe I did mention the wind.... more icy shards kind of wind.
So.... hi ho.. hi ho.. it’s off to work I go...

Ladder in place... climbing carefully.. nothing to hang on to.
Well, heck! The metal won’t go back under the other piece of metal that was holding it in place. How’d that happen??? What to do???

Wind was cold.
Coat was open.
Hands were freezing.
Temporary Solution: Just put a nail in the old nail hole... move it up a bit until it grabs.
More Permanent Solution: I have NO idea.

Icy Wind

I expected to pay for the warm beautiful day we had earlier. It is a given. Sure enough, the wind shifted to the north, and icy shards were fairly driven into the body.

I headed for our local mercantile about the time the wind shifted. It was quite cool and a bit breezy as I headed into the store. Coming out was another matter. I realized my BIG mistakes. I should have planned better, should have gone to the store earlier, should have stayed at home.

Here I was facing gale force icy winds and needing to scoot across the parking lot and load some rather light weight items into the back of my vehicle. I knew it was going to be interesting.

I girded myself for the trek across the lot. I fastened my coat, put on my gloves, heisted my hood into place, and decided to look for the drawstrings. I knew there were drawstrings on that hood.... somewhere. I can’t remember using them lately, but was sure they were still there. Locating them and giving them a good firm pull, I all but hid my face from the cold.

This little store has NO automatic door to exit from the building. Remember, this is Small Town America. Therefore, it takes a bit of creative shifting to get the cart aligned, putting your back to the door to push it open while pulling the cart through the opening. Luck is having someone else coming in who will hold the door open.

This was a windy day... remember... and there was no luck with someone coming in. Therefore, I did the little maneuver and managed to get my cart out the door and into the cold cruel world. I’d been a bit concerned that some of the lighter sacks might actually blow out of the cart on the way to the car. I will admit to a fancy dance or two and trying to put a new trash can across the top of the other items. Then I had to hold down the can and scoot along. Luck WAS with me, and I made it to the car complete with all the items I’d purchased.

Now to open the trunk and transfer those sacks into the car. It wasn’t a fight I was about to lose. I fiddled around a bit to get the remote aimed while I held down the trash can. Please, don’t let me hit the ‘panic’ button. Then I hurried... really hurried... and jammed the sacks as far back into the trunk as I could as quickly as I could. I was loving that hood firmly holding my face in place. It was a small amount of comfort, but it was comfort.

I now had a goal in mind: Get home... get hot chocolate. I had focus, incentive, and resolve. Only one more battle with my items to get them inside, then I’d reward myself with a little something hot and comforting in my tummy. It had to be chocolate. Rewards should be chocolate. I’d barely gotten everything inside when I grabbed the tea kettle and got going on my reward. Ah.... sweet bliss. Poor Baby had had a hard day.

Sweet Blessing

It was a sunny day in winter. It started with a thick fog settling in during the night and lingering a bit in the morning. As I headed out to church in the morning, I noticed that every bit of brown grass and every twig in the trees was coated with frost. It wasn’t ice, just frost crystals hanging everywhere. Beautiful.

As the temperature increased a bit, the lovely frost disappeared. The sun was shining bright in a clear sky, and I was glad.

I had somewhere to go in the afternoon. I thought about the fact that it was a beautiful day with sun and a happy blue sky. I decided it must be a God Smile. I was on my way to celebrate the fiftieth wedding anniversary of friends. I can’t imagine having the privilege of fifty years of a loving and caring relationship. The couple has a beautiful family and grandchildren to enjoy as well. Somehow, I just felt that the whole day was a blessing for them.

Somehow the warmth and caring of the couple and all the friends and family surrounding them seemed to radiate its own heat, providing an energy of its own. It was a sweet feeling of joy accented by God’s own stamp of approval, His landscape painting for the day.

Big Time Headache

It started today when I opened my e-mail and discovered that someone out there on the Internet Super Highway decided they would be me. I discovered my own address in my spam mailbox. Lo and behold, I seem to be in the pharmacy business... I don't think so!!

I knew the first stop would be to my Internet provider... somewhere outside of the good old USA. They always apologize profusely. I would rather skip the million apologies and get right to the problem, preferably in English.

I was sent several to places to find out what I already knew. I was just Out Of Luck. There isn't much that can be done. They told me to change my e-mail address. Good luck with that!

I'm sure it doesn't take but limited imagination to imagine my day on the phone with Big Company Internet Provider and Srverryer Herroeior from Igrreogrer (apologizing profusely). At one point I was passed on to Herriopsers, Srverryer Herroeior's supervisor, who I didn't hear or understand one bit better. Oh... WOE!!! Where is that Giant Size Excedrin when you need one??!

I had big plans for the day. I was going to get the sweeper out of the closet and sweep... at last. Now I have this other concern, which makes me less than enthusiastic about sweeping. The day will be gone, and I'll still have dust. I also have a headache. One good thing: My fingernails still look lovely from yesterday's polishing. Tah Dah!

Girl Talk

I ruined my nails from yesterday. I did everything wrong. I wasn't patient at ALL. Today I decided to start from scratch. I'd do a make-over and see if I couldn't improve the look of me.

First on the agenda: hair dye.
I've carried on before about the horrors of hair dying. There was the time I put on light reddish brown, and it came out of the bottle a true carrot orange. I suffered severe anxiety waiting for it to develop. I escaped a horrid fate with that one.

I decided to change brands and colors. That attempt left me mousy brown, not really much of anything. It was time to try try again. Breaking into my own personal rendition of the song from Grease, 'Beauty School Dropout'.... dah dah dah dah dah.... I made a few adjustments to the way I'd process my hair this time. I put a cap on it and used my hair dryer to put some warm air on my head. I actually got this idea from directions to help blend gray. I, of course, didn't have a nice chair dryer like the directions assumed I'd have. So, I just blew on it awhile with my hand held dryer. I sure hoped it would cover the gray and look natural.

I'm happy to report, the first item of the agenda was a success.

Second on the agenda: Nails
Considering the fact that I'd done everything wrong yesterday, I removed all the pitted and smeared polish and started from scratch. I even waited for each coat to dry. Now I have a lovely set of nails. We will see how long that lasts.

The whole business of getting myself presentable took the stuffing out of me. I was totally out of the mood for anything like sweeping or dusting. Besides, I don't want to ruin my nails. I'll try again tomorrow.

Dry Nails, Dry!

There is one sure way in life to cause trouble for yourself: Polish your nails. Nails seem to be a constant source of trouble. I must keep them from chipping, peeling, etc. It has been an uphill battle. Still, letting nails just go isn’t an option either. I want to be able to appear in public. I’m thinking well polished nails are a must to have that ‘kept’ look.

I’ve ruled out going to the nail salon. I have no desire to add artificial nails to my body. I’m just going to be stuck with what I have. However, I can keep what I have polished.

I’ve had years of practice with this home polishing fiasco. It continues to be a fiasco. The problem is drying time. I’m not a patient person, and drying requires more patience that I seem to have developed. I’ve tried every quick drying trick, bought every quick drying product, and still..........

The instant my nails are polished and the quick drying top coat is applied, things start to happen. Any one, or a combination, or all the following can and do apply:
I need a tissue in order to sneeze.
I have to see what is in the mailbox.
I get chilly and need to add a garment.
I get hot and need to remove a garment.
I decided I don’t like how I’m dressed, and I need to change outfits.
I decide to add jewelry.
I must change out my purse.
I must answer the phone or make a call.
I must answer the doorbell.
I suddenly remember I need to make a list for the grocery store.
And the biggest one.... number one always on the list.... a trip to the bathroom.

This is all fresh on my mind. My fingernails are drying, but I just had to type about it for my blog while they dry.

Waiting Room Blues

Yesterday I took Mother to Nearby City to the podiatrist. I’ve often told her to try for a 1:00 p.m. appointment. However, she had one scheduled at 2:15 p.m. I’m not sure Mother has caught on to the theory of being first after the lunch break. You have more of a chance of being in the waiting room a short time.

I had some other errands to run and knew it would be too much for Mother. I left her at the doctor’s office and headed to Hobby Lobby (My favorite favorite place!) I really NEEDED to go there. I had supplies to purchase.... yes, I did. I had promised Mother that I wouldn’t be long, so put my shopping into fast mode and forfeited browsing in any section other than stamping supplies. It was a sacrifice, but saved me time and money. I was proud of myself for accomplishing what I set out to do in a timely fashion.

I returned to the doctor’s office and saw Mother sitting by the window. I had high hopes that she had seen the doctor. Not so. A full hour plus went by before she was even called by the nurse. I remember looking at my watch at 3:30 p.m. She had been whisked away a few minutes earlier, and I hoped she was at least in the personal care of the doctor by then. It was standing room only in the waiting area. The turnover rate was at a snail’s pace. Oh, my... I often think how rich I’d be if I had a penny for every hour I’ve ever spent cooling my heels in a doctor’s office.

Normally, I put a book into my purse... just in case. I’d forgotten. Therefore, I sat quietly looking around at all the people. I do enjoy people watching. We humans can be quite entertaining.

One older gentleman entered on crutches, his wife briskly following behind. He managed to lower himself into a chair nearby. He seemed to make a number of noises, like one not totally comfortable and just trying to rearrange externally and internally for more comfort.

A younger woman with two children, I’m guessing around seven and ten years old, entered. The children had to sit on the floor. The woman sat next to me. The gentleman leaned forward and tried to start up a conversation with the children. They managed to ignore him. They had their own entertainment: Gameboys and music devises. They managed to plug themselves into their own world and let the rest of it go by. I had tried earlier to be friendly with the boys, and I knew this gentleman was up against impossible odds. I finally leaned forward, smiled at the gentleman and said, ‘I’m afraid you are being ignored.’ He laughed and said that he had grandchildren and was accustomed to being ignored.

I’m a fan of technology, but I do wonder how much of the world is being missed by those of all ages who constantly plug in and tune out. This world is about interaction. We need to engage, not disengage. That is my word of wisdom for the day. I believe it, and I’m sticking to it.

(I would also comment that in a perfect world, waiting rooms would have only short waits. I guess in a perfect world, there would be no need for doctors, so there would be no waits.)

Morning Routine

I've had my morning routine altered a bit. I always start with coffee. That's a must.. MUST, I say. It gets my brain cells going. I don't care what they say about coffee, it gets my brain cells going.

With coffee in hand, I usually head over to AARP to really get my brain cells going, but just had to omit that step this morning to get pictures posted on CJ's Crafting Fun. I'm still learning to manipulate pictures and text on here, so it took awhile. However, the deed is done. It doesn't always turn out exactly like I want it, but it's close.

Our little crafting group had a get-together yesterday to learn some new techniques in card making. It is a nice way to spend the afternoon in fun and fellowship. We all NEED things to do with others. This is a nice way to do that.

My routine also includes running outside to feed my Man Cat Pumpkin. Bless his heart, it's so cold outside. He is a survivor and has spent several winters outside. I know that I'm horrid for not taking him into my home, but I'm not a cat person. I've never even liked cats. I've mellowed a bit on that, but only as far as Pumpkin is concerned. He is always glad to see me delivering his food and water to the back porch. He is always on time, and part of my routine is also to be on time.

Daughter I-Needa also called this morning. That's not in our routine, but she called. I always enjoy hearing from I-Needa. There is something coming up on TV this morning, and she wanted me to watch. I'm trying, but it's affecting my routine.

The first word in my site is 'Humor'. It is unexpected and surprising. It catches us unaware and tickles us. There is nothing routine about it. All of us have our routines to help us with the organization of our lives. Thank goodness for the humor that comes along and adds the flavor. Those are the moments we remember.

Warmth in the Cold

I'm revving up today for a crafting event. This is one of those special days when a little group of us get together for card making. We gals like our social events, and this is a fun thing to do for socializing and accomplishing something at the same time. In my Mother's day, they had groups getting together to play Bridge. I can't say that I'm really interested in that. I much prefer our artistic endeavors.

It's still cold! The fact that it is winter may have something to do with that. I really can't complain as we've had many warmer than normal days so far this winter. I believe the really cold days serve to remind us what cold is about and how fortunate we are to have a few warmer ones.

I will admit that it is harder to get myself out the door in cold weather. Something inside me wants to linger in the warmth of the house and perhaps have a bit of hot chocolate to warm the tummy. At some point, I'll have to steel myself, put on that coat, fling open the door, and head for the cold cold car. I'd like to have one of those cars that you can start with a remote control. I'm a pansy.. no doubt about it.

I'll admit to being a pansy when it comes to cold weather. I'm thankful I'm not a rancher having to break ice on ponds. I doubt that is even appealing to the ranchers. It must be a hazard of the job.

As I finished writing the above paragraph, my next door neighbor called saying that someone had broken into their car during the night and stolen an MP3 player. Bless their hearts, you just can't keep anything in your automobile. Their car was in the garage, but the door was open. Following our conversation, I slipped on some shoes, put a coat over my robe (No, I'm not dressed yet!) and flung myself into the cold to make sure my car wasn't broken into during the night. I did a quick runaround under the carport, feeling a bit of a chill rushing up under my gown and robe. Thankfully, everything is fine with the car.

I've frittered away some time this morning, and believe I'd best get to organizing my day. I'll start with a nice warm bath, some warm clothing, warm oatmeal in my tummy, and being thankful that all was well in the carport. Then I'll fling myself out into the cold again and head to my friend's home for some nice warm fellowship time with the card making group.

Sweet Avoidance

It was SO cold yesterday. There was nothing to do but stay at home... in the house...period. I should have been shredding. That task is still incomplete. I should have been sweeping the house, as the dust is getting dangerously deep on the furniture. I've heard it preserves the furniture, but it still doesn't seem right.

With all the things I SHOULD have done, I slipped right into avoidance mode and selected working on my blog. I had sudden inspiration and decided to have two. Oh, one isn't enough.... I need two. Why? Well, this big idea popped into my head about having one with just craft articles. This will have pictures of projects and feature some of my friends who love crafts as well. Of course, I'm just getting started on it, so am just posting beginning pictures and stories. There is a link to that site on the side under Nifty Links. It is CJ's Crafting Fun. Or... just click here and it will take you right over.... after you finish reading this one. You might want to run over there and see. You can bookmark it too. I'm still posting here as well. I'll never get my house cleaned!

Great Wisdom

I-Needa offered this great advice today:

'When you can't find your TV's remote control, go to the closet and look in your purse.'

Oh, yes.... we've all been there... done that.

Too Much Paper In My Life

I wrote a bit ago about shredding. I will confess that I hadn't really committed myself to the process or thrown myself into it with complete abandon.... until yesterday. That's why I've been missing in action here. I've been shredding, and shredding, and shredding. Really, that's my excuse, and I'm sticking to it.

I know this is riveting stuff, but it is starting to take over my life. I almost hate to see the postman arrive as he is almost guaranteed to bring something or a bunch of somethings that will add to my shredding pile. If I ever get control here, I'm going to do it on a daily basis, which shouldn't be much of a problem.

I think the biggest mess is all the years of canceled paper checks. Juju went through that when in the process of moving. She shredded until the world looked level. However, I've mentioned that in my other shredding story. I will spare you the details of repetition.

I'm thrilled that banks have now gone to those cute little miniature pictures of processed checks. I have a ton of those paper checks to get rid of. I don't think I need checks from long ago for groceries, etc. However, one must look at each of those canceled checks to see if there are any biggies that must be kept. That alone, is a chore.

So, I'm in the middle of organizing... once again organizing... It's another one of those hard jobs that just must be done...or ELSE! In this shredding process, I've gone from the standard size kitchen trash bag to the full blown heavy duty black yard bags.

If you have nothing better to do today, I'd recommend starting the shredding process. In some ways, it's therapeutic.

Busy Day Soup

I'm getting ready to have this soup for lunch. I made it last night and put the leftovers in individual serving size containers. Just look at all the good stuff in it! It meets my qualifications for being quick and easy. I'm having this with a slice of Impossible Pumpkin Pie. Yum!! I begged this off of a friend years ago and make it often.


Busy Day Soup

1 pound ground beef (I buy good quality)
2 cans Progresso Minestrone Soup (19 oz cans)
1 14oz can diced tomatoes
1 15 oz can kidney beans

Cook & drain beef. Add other ingredients. Heat. Eat... Lovely.

Mail Ponderings

I’ve been thinking about junk mail: snail and e-mail. I know I complained about shredding not long ago. I’m still working on that little (big) project. I’ve made a dent, but still have a mountain to go before the shredding process is complete.

The postman seems to bring me more to shred on a daily basis, so I doubt I’ll ever really catch up. I can count on keeping the shredder humming and perhaps should buy stock in some company who manufactures them.

Having signed up with good old AT&T and having Yahoo to worry about some of my Internet spam, I can feel a bit relieved about junk getting to my e-mail. However, I do check that box with all the spam, or whatever you want to call it... nuisance mail, etc. Once in a great while important mail is not sent to me correctly. So I check. I’m always amazed at the contents of that box.

I will admit that I NEVER check those links to see what is there. They give me almost the same feeling that I got as a child walking past the pool hall. Run, Baby, Run! I’m wondering why so many people out there are concerned that I look at watches...or purses. I’m amazed at how many junk e-mails want to fix a part of my body that isn’t even anatomically correct for me. There are pills and gizmos to fix it, and I don’t have it.

There are e-mails all over the place to help me be safe in the parking lot, telling me what to watch out for and how disable anyone who looks at me cross-eyed. However, I’m thinking this Internet highway could be just as dangerous as the parking lot. If it looks bad, don’t go play there. I don’t.... starting with those iffy looking e-mails.

I do have one form of e-mail that I receive that often baffles me. I admit that I just don’t understand the content or how it works. It usually starts with some really nice thoughts, perhaps even a prayer or something inspirational. Then at the bottom.... Ah, you know what is coming, don’t you?.... is the catch line: Forward to so many friends in so many minutes and something wonderful will happen to you at a certain time. WHAT?!

So, will someone please explain to me how this works. How can I be guaranteed to meet the love of my life, be blessed with more money, have something wonderfully unexpected happen to me, etc. by clicking forward on my computer? Normally it even gives me a target time of day when this will happen. If I do it, I win. If I don’t do it, I lose. It just makes no sense to me. Did I miss out on something in Computer 101?

I also am a tad saddened by inspirational pieces with the last paragraph telling me that I’m a rotten awful no good person if I don’t chose to show my faith by clicking forward and adding everyone in my address book. Somehow my refusing to do that may affect my eternal rewards. What?! Who writes this stuff?

Well, if you have any answers to my questions on the hows and whys of the mystery of being blessed by hitting forward, please feel free to leave them in my comments under the article. Perhaps I just need a little direction or guidance and things would be perfectly clear. I don't like to be left in the dark. I'm always happy to know that someone has thought of me, but I just don't know how to react appropriately at times. I've discussed this with I-Needa thinking she might have a great suggestion. She said, 'Just delete that part off the mail before you forward it.' Good old practical I-Needa.

Custom Cardboard Furniture

I've saved this picture as just have to laugh each time I see it. It is a chair made of cardboard. Yes!...cardboard.

I took this picture in one of the bedrooms in The 2007 Southern Living Idea House in Hot Springs, Arkansas. It was such a treat to tour the home. It is a fabulous home, which is probably now on the market at an equally fabulous price.

I've often wondered who made this chair and why. I thought perhaps it was a demonstration concerning the strength of bonded layers. Someone sketched the outline of the chair on cardboard. (Yes, regular old cardboard box.) You can see the shape on the right edge of the chair. Then the shape was reproduced over and over again until it was the wide enough. The layers were glued together to form this chair. I didn't see anyone trying to sit in it, but I'm sure it would hold weight.

Perhaps this will be a new innovation in furniture. Newly weds should save all those packing boxes and create custom furniture. It might become all the rage. After all, it was good enough for Southern Living. I've heard that the home will be sold with all furnishings. I wonder if this chair will be a big draw. You have to admit, it would be a conversation piece.

A Writing Life Lesson

I had a nice treat yesterday. I had a real live comment on my blog site. That’s a new experience. I’ve had friends comment through e-mail. However, I’ve never had a posted comment that others could view. I suppose I need to file that under a ‘fun’ thing. You can view the comment as posted under ‘Anthony Chapel’.

I’m not sure I could define why I started this writing and blog creating adventure. I know that I marvel at the changes in technology, and they hold a certain appeal for me. I well remember sitting in the middle of my bed in college typing on my portable typewriter. I seemed to feel the creative juices flow better in the middle of the bed. Sitting at the desk just didn’t do anything for me. I remember being careful of which keys I struck and how I spelled words. I didn’t want to turn in a paper with misspelled words, and I didn’t want to use ‘white out’ on it either. It meant careful careful work, or I'd have to completely retype the paper. I can only imagine how much easier that life would have been with a computer and the ability to use a word processor. I know I LOVE it now!

I remember feeling relieved when I went to college with the knowledge that I’d had an outstanding English teacher in high school. She made us love literature and also taught us the fine points of English grammar and ‘term paper’ writing. I was astonished my freshman year of college to find that many had no idea about how to write a term paper. I wondered if they had slept in class or just weren’t taught that skill.

At this point in my life, I’d have to review term paper writing, but I’ve continued to enjoy writing.... to some extent.

I keep thinking about an event that happened to me while seeking my first teaching position upon graduation from college. I often shared this story with students through the years as felt it made a strong point. Students don’t always see the need to care about spelling and form of writing. Too often they just want to complete the task and get the paper on the desk. I thought the following story might point out just how critical it might be to them.

I’d applied for an elementary teaching position in a community close to a larger city. It was my first interview for my first job in education. I really wanted the position. Looking back on it, I think I probably had the position before I even walked in the door. A family friend was Superintendent of Schools in our small community, and I know he had called and put in a good word for me with the Superintendent who was then interviewing me.

I felt relaxed during the interview and thought I was having a good discussion with the Superintendent. Then he mentioned that he had a number of positions to fill and motioned toward a stack of letters on his desk. Pulling the stack closer to himself, he leafed through them and handed one to me. ‘What in the heck is he doing?!’, I thought. He asked me to read through it and tell him if I thought he should interview the person. My mind was reeling as I started reading the letter. I couldn’t imagine why on earth he would be asking me such a thing. I just knew it was a test of some kind, but just what was he expecting.

As I read further into the letter, I saw the problem, or problems. I finished the letter and handed it back to him. He smiled and asked if I thought he should interview the person. I smiled right back and gave him a confident ‘No, Sir. I wouldn’t bother.’ He gave me a slow smile and asked why I’d formed that opinion. I told him that there were three spelling errors in the letter. I also stated that it showed the person didn’t care enough to check every word and make certain they presented themselves well. He cast me a ‘well done’ glance and placed the letter back into the stack on his desk. He said, ‘I agree. I have no intention of bothering with an interview.’ With that, he slid another paper across the desk, and I signed my first teaching contract.

I told this to my classes year after year, as found too often students saw no reason to bother with proofreading. I thought it was a fine example of why one should practice good writing habits. Someone, somewhere, lost even the possibility of a position they might have sincerely desired. That is one of those life lessons that has stayed with me for many years. I only hoped that my telling the story in class might help some young person to value the effort it takes to reread or double check how they present themselves to others. I will say that each time I told the story, there was dead silence at the end. Perhaps they listened. I hope so.

Corn Salad Recipe

I have to laugh at myself about putting recipes on my blog. I don't know why I do it, except I really like to share a good thing when I find it. As far as cooking goes, I have my own set of qualifications: no excess chopping/ dicing/ slicing. I must know what the ingredients are without looking them up in a dictionary, and be able to put everything together in under fifteen minutes. It must also taste good.

I was at I-Needa's house this fall, and we had a little get-together with the neighbors. Deloris brought over a yummy corn salad. I loved it and asked for the recipe, which she gladly shared. I prepared it for one of those covered dish dinners, and I thought it was wonderful. It meets all my qualifications too. I plan on putting this high on my list of things to prepare when traveling with a dish. I asked I-Needa to ask Deloris if she minded me sharing it. Deloris said that she had gotten it from a friend, who had gotten it from a friend, etc. So here it is!

Corn Salad

2 15 oz cans whole kernel corn (drained)
2 Cups grated cheese (I made mine with mild cheddar, but the recipe didn't specify)
1 Cup Mayonnaise
1 Cup bell pepper (chopped)
1/2 Cup red onion (chopped)

1 10.5 oz crushed chili corn chips (save these and put into the salad at the very last minute before serving.

Mix the first five ingredients together in a bowl and chill it. Then crush and stir in the corn chips before serving.

I tasted it and liked the flavor even without the chips. Once the chips are added, you almost have to eat it as they will get soggy. I decided to make it for myself and just take out the portion I want and add a few chips. Really, I even like it as well without chips.

The Pool Hall

At times I have thoughts about nostalgic priceless pieces of history in our small town. Some have memories for me as a child, others were part of my children’s growing up time. I will admit to having posted this article on Yahoo a short time ago. I just needed to move it over here as want to do some more pieces in the future on some of the quaint and not so quaint features of our small town. If you read this before, perhaps you will enjoy a second read.

Consuming my thoughts this morning has been the passing of the pool hall. Trust me, I’ve NEVER been in the pool hall. This was a guy’s only place, and no lady ventured through those doors. I can remember as a child almost running past the pool hall. What lurked behind those doors didn’t seem at all pleasant to me. It wasn’t even a very clean looking place, and I assumed it must be some sort of den of sin. I figured if I looked the other way, held my breath, and scurried past as fast as possible, I might arrive out of range of something grabbing me and sending me to oblivion. Somehow I survived.

When Son Right Back reached the beginnings of his teenage years, the pool hall became an interest. It was still there all these years later. I will say that I’d never given the pool hall any real thought, other than getting past quickly in my younger years.

Now, here was Right Back, wanting to go to the pool hall. I immediately took more of an interest in the place and just what was going on in there. I learned that the pool hall was owned at that time by a good guy who had retired after years working in surveying. It was now a retiree’s thing to do with his time. I also found that the pool hall, which bore his first name... Henry’s... had been the hanging out place for many a lad. There was a certain amount of education that went on at the pool hall, much of it a good thing.

So, in spite of some criticism, I made up my mind that my son would be allowed to go to the pool hall. I still maintain it was a good decision.

According to Right Back, the pool hall consisted of two snooker tables, three pool tables, and two domino tables. No liquor was served there. Henry bought pop and candy bars, keeping them in the refrigerator. Chips were kept above the cash drawer. If you wanted something, you helped yourself. When you were ready to leave, you told Henry how many games you’d played and how much you owed for pop, chips, or candy bars. Everything was on the honor system.

I asked Right Back if anyone ever took a broom to the floor, and he laughed and said that about once a week it would get swept. My observation from the outside was a land of dirt and darkness. Even the walls of the pool hall had need of a good fresh coat of something to cover up whatever the years had left. It certainly didn’t have any feminine touches about it, but, after all, it was a ‘guys only’ haven on Earth. I suppose they liked it that way... dark... dirty... smelly... etc. He said that if something fell on the floor, they left it there and took bets on how long it would take for a roach to come along and carry it off. In all respect to Henry, I hope Right Back was exaggerating on that one. I’m a little on the squeamish side about critters.

I figure Right Back learned more real history in the pool hall than he’d ever learn in school. I’m not knocking school, but there are things they don’t teach there. Most of the fellows who ‘hung out’ in the pool hall were what I might refer to as the ‘old coots’. The Old Coots must have been very interesting people from diverse backgrounds. Right Back said that the rule was, ‘Leave your title at the door!’ He said there was a sign saying that. So, people just went in to hang out, play a little pool or dominoes, and tell a few tales.

When Right Back started going into the pool hall, the lad was ‘fresh meat’. All the stories that needed to be told and retold by people who had lived during prohibition needed to be explained to this young lad. History must be preserved. He was there with ‘fresh ears’ as well, and absolutely loved their stories.

Yes, Prohibition was a great topic at the pool hall, according to Right Back. Several of the pool hall patrons had a big hand in the development of ways to get around the law. Since liquor couldn’t be bought in stores, it had to be run in from other states or just homemade and sold. I’m afraid Right Back was given all the instructions needed to carry on such a thing. He learned about stills, recipes, running techniques, etc.... all the practical things a young teenager needed to know. Well, that’s history! I’m not saying he ever put any of these into personal practice. He just listened and learned.

I remember a day when Right Back came home and told about one of the Old Coots passing away. Apparently one of the other guys told Right Back that the Old Coot had left a message that Right Back was to inherit his still. Right Back said, ‘You’ve GOT to be kidding!!’ I guess he wasn’t. Right Back was taken out in the countryside and shown where the still was located.... not working, just the remains...a piece of history. According to Right Back, it has since been removed and located to a museum somewhere.

I know Right Back could write a book on all the happenings he learned about at the pool hall. I have to admit loving to hear Right Back retell the stories. He tells it with such excitement and makes me long to hear more. Who knows how much was pure history and how much was exaggeration on the part of the Old Coots. Right Back seems to think most of it really was history. I’ve made Right Back promise to tell all of it to me one day. It might be a very interesting read.

The cast of characters from the pool hall have gone now. Henry has passed away, and the building has sold to be put to another use. It is another one of those sad passings in Small Town.

Right Back loves to watch the History Channel. He seems to absorb trivia of the past like a sponge absorbing water. I wonder how much of this interest came from his early fascination with real small town people.. gathered in a darkened pool hall..playing pool and spinning yarns, excitedly reliving a part of history with their personal stories.

JuJu's Blog Fodder

I had an e-mail from JuJu yesterday relating an adventure she’d had that day. I laughed and replied to her that it was excellent blog fodder. If I’m not careful, my friends may stop telling me the crazy things that happen to them. However, I’m going to take that chance today and see if I can describe her great adventure.

With the Christmas decorations returned to the attic, and the house looking a little bare, Miss JuJu ( Southern Speak) looked about her home and felt it suffered a bit from a case of the dreary blahs. It was time to punch it up, but not a total redecorating, which seemed much too big a project at the time. She just needed a little something to bring light and happiness into her decor and festive up the place.... just something to help the atmosphere.

She decided that something light or lime green would be a good thing for this ‘soon-to-be’ spring season. (Personally, I think she is trying to hurry winter along) She didn’t divulge at which store she found the answer to her problems, but I suspect a good Hobby Lobby, or something of equal value.

She decided on those popular decorating appointments known as decorative balls. She would try them on some candlesticks and in a topiary jar. It was a start. She selected five balls of various sizes, paid for them, and headed out the door.

It was a windy day. It was really really windy. As Miss JuJu made her way to the car with her newly purchased plastic sack of five green balls of various sizes, the dastardly wind swept over her, grabbing her plastic sack and turning it upside down. She gasped as three of her newly purchased soon to be lovely appointments fell out and started rolling across a very large parking lot.

(Did I mention it was cold? I don’t think I did, but it was cold. Cold and windy. That’s not a nice combination.)

So, here we have Miss JuJu with three of her precious purchases torn cruelly from her and rolling around the parking lot.... a very large parking lot... She managed to grab one. Another disappeared entirely, and the third decided to explore the parking lot.

With muffler flying in the breeze (wind) and her hair standing on end, she began an unplanned run around the parking lot. She reported that her running form was extremely geriatric in nature. As luck would have it, she had no luck.

She was persistent. Hopping back into her car to continue the search, driving around and around the parking area, she refused to give up the search. Alas, no green balls in sight!! Although she didn’t mention any grumbling on her part, it is my imagination that asks what she said to herself as she drove around and around in search of her two missing decorative balls.

I’m sad to say that the story does not have a happy ending. Miss JuJu finally had to resign herself to having only three decorative balls. With that, she returned home. Poor baby!

Anthony Chapel

One fine day last year, Grace and I set out in her new small SUV on a road trip to visit JuJu. We picked her up and headed out on yet another adventure. We ended up in Hot Springs, Arkansas, and after having a wonderful lunch we took in some of the sights around Hot Springs. One was at Garvan Woodland Gardens. It was a hot day, and we didn't really have time to walk through all the gardens, but headed out to see Anthony Chapel in the garden area. This is a beautiful chapel of wood and glass. Many weddings are held here. What a beautiful place!

Inside Anthony Chapel looking toward the front. I love how you can sit and look at the trees outside. It is a beautiful place to just sit and meditate.

Hiding Under The Bed

I have made a decision. I’m going to go get under the bed and stay there. I have an antique bed, so it is possible to get under it. I’m heading that way soon and may not come out.... ever.

I know I’m getting older.... who isn’t? Once in awhile I even startle myself passing the mirror and catching a sudden glimpse of myself..... Who is that? Surely it isn’t me! Can’t be! Not possible!

I’m sure everyone has experienced that at one time or another. We cope. There is a little head shaking and a brief wondering of where on earth time has flown.

I was okay with it, really. Like everyone else, I’ve adjusted. I actually like the perks that coming of age as a ‘Senior Citizen’ brings. Still, when I’m not getting a discount because of it, I rather like to think I’m younger in age.... say just shy of fifty... like forty-seven.

I’m really hedging in working up to the cause of my decision to seek refuge under the bed. It’s bad... it’s huge... its really awful. I don’t even like to think about it. Okay.... here goes:

I was invited to join one of those online groups so I could see pictures and a blog of an acquaintance who I’ve kept up with for awhile. He, Jer R., was working his first tech job when I met him. He was a HUGE help to me in my classroom when I was given a whole new room of computers to put together and a lab to get up and running. It was a challenge, and a bit overwhelming at times. Jer R. was part of a duo, whom I lovingly referred to as ‘my tech guys.’ When something was needed in the lab, here they came. I was always SO glad to see them. They were both a blessing to our school system, and certainly to me. I think they saved my sanity. Really, I do. They also introduced me into the world of Apple Computers and won me over as a permanent fan of all things Apple. They were both friendly and helpful, and I grew to love my ‘tech guys.’

It wasn’t long until they went to other positions, climbing ladders to things more challenging. I thought fondly of both of them, and was pleased to get to keep up with Jer R. He has a lovely family, a ‘cute as pie’ daughter, and I just like knowing about them and seeing pictures. In some ways, Jer. R helped to make me more comfortable with computers, and I have managed to step up and incorporate computers into my life in a way I probably wouldn’t have without their encouragement.

Jer R. has been so busy in the work world (after all, he is a rising star) that he hasn’t really had time to keep up with posting pictures on his site. However, he has moved to a new city and home that came with a promotion. I had a rare e-mail from him saying that he was going to get back on his computer soon. Then he seemed to surface and find a bit of time to start playing on the Internet again.

I was shocked when he gave up his iMac account for something different. I don’t think that means he loves them less, but is opting for change. He sent me an invitation to see his new site. He was forming a group. It was nice to be included. However, I had to sign up with the site to be able to see the pictures. It is one of those members and friends thing. That is good as keeps things private rather than public. Like I said, I was glad to be included in the list of those who would be able to see what he posts there. I looked forward to seeing pictures of his daughter, who I imagine is growing like a weed.

Since I had to sign up on Google to see his pictures, I started looking around and decided to try their sponsored Blogspot... So, he has managed to get me into yet another thing. I kept checking his new site and decided he had fallen off the planet again. Translated: Work was keeping him too busy for playing on the Internet.

Then I received a second invitation to view his work. This time it was from another location. I went there and was faced with signing up for another account. I began to wonder if I was going to be forced to have accounts all over the Internet just to see his family pics.

It was then I entered the ‘twilight zone’ so to speak. He has created something that is full of all kinds of things... things I don’t understand at all.

Suddenly, the senior citizen part of me came into full view. I’ve always been afraid that someday I’d not be able to use the remote control. It does happen. My mother has difficulty switching around on the remote to enable her to use her old VCR. Even the thought of upgrading to a DVD player, where she would have to go through the selection of play movie, etc., is something I don’t think we could face together. She would be totally lost

Well, here I was on Jer R’s new site. Oh gussie! I’m not sure if the tech side of me felt like a kid in a candy shop, or if the senior citizen side of me felt like I’d been given a remote control I couldn’t understand. It’s just full of stuff, stuff, stuff.

Now remember, I told you that in order to see the blog, you have to sign up. Then you become ‘a friend’ of the one who invited you. You are encouraged to fill out your own profile so all ‘the friends’ can see it. They also ‘let’ you post a picture of yourself, which is posted in tiny ‘thumbnail’ form. Of course, you can click on the thumbnail and see it larger...much larger..in detail.

I looked at all the friends, twenty-five at last count, prominently displayed. They are all pictures of the ‘under thirty’ crowd of those who are his ‘friends’. There is no way on this green earth that I want to post my mug shot among the group of the under thirty with everything stretched tight crowd. I don’t even take a good picture. I suddenly felt as if I had dropped in on a party, and it was the wrong party.

I looked around for his folks. Surely they were listed here. No, not yet. I saw no geriatric grouping. It was just them and me, the young verses the wrinkled. By my name, there was a big blue question mark. Oh, Gussie, a BIG blue question mark!

Dear Gussie, what was I doing there? I had to escape. I found the bookmarks on my browser and did what came naturally. I headed to AARP, where I felt comfortable, and played Sudoku. At least I understand Sudoku.

So, there it is, folks. I am to remain a big question mark.... a blob on his blog. Either that, or I must revoke my friendship status. Again, this older chick has NO plans of becoming a poster child for the aged among the thirty and younger crowd. I can just hear the other friends now.. 'So, who is that old woman?’

That’s when I decided to hide under the bed. I just need some time to reflect and get some perspective. I’m sure I’ll be out one day, but I’m not sure when that will be.

(Jer. R., If you read this, just smile.... I think it’s funny. )

Impossible Pumpkin Pie

I just have to share this recipe as it is wonderful to have with soup in Soup Season. It is Weight Watchers friendly... I think 2 1/2 points per slice when sliced into six pieces. That includes a dollop of fat free Coolwhip on the top. Lovely, really.

I was a little skeptical at first as this pie has no crust. I couldn't imagine pie without crust, but you really don't miss it.... seriously. Crust only adds a whole lot of calories, and this is just as good. So, go ahead and try it.

1 can pumpkin (15 oz.)
1/2 cup low fat Bisquick... or Pioneer Brand)
1 can skim evaporated milk (I use that Fat Free Milnot)
2 egg whites
1/2 cup Splenda
1/3 cup brown sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg

Beat everything together with mixer until smooth
Pour int0 SPRAYED pie pan (spray a little Pam on the pan)
Bake 350 degrees 40 minutes or until set.

Growing Tomatoes

I’ve been thinking about fresh tomatoes. That’s one of those perks of summer, but it isn’t summer. A ‘hot house’ tomato just isn’t the same as a home grown one. There just isn’t any comparison.

I’ve never been one to think like a gardener. My father came from a farming family, but I didn’t get any gardening genes. I don’t seem to like yard work in any form. I’m pretty sure when God talked about having to till the soil after the Garden of Eden incident, he specifically told Adam that it was his job to till the soil. At least that’s the way I see it. I’m not going to look it up as don’t want to be wrong. Ignorance is bliss.

My friends have, on occasion, pointed out my shortcomings in gardening. JuJu and Grace are pretty good gardeners. JuJu can name all the flowers and probably has one of each tucked away somewhere in her yard. If she isn’t shredding paper (see the shredding story), she is outside working in her yard. JuJu and Grace both believe in pulling weeds regularly. It must work as there is no comparison between their yards and mine. Mine looks like the Garden of Eden gone wrong. Perhaps that is because it has been left untended by anyone.

Oh, I try once in awhile. I’ve gone outside and pulled a few weeds. It does make the flower beds look better, but it doesn’t hold my interest for long. I don’t seem to reap any of that pure joy that others get from pulling stuff out of dirt.

A couple of years ago, I decided that I’d mend my ways, change my tune, and open myself up for the joy of gardening. I started with tomatoes. I went to a store and stood in the open air tent outside picking through the tomato seedlings. ( I don’t know if they really call it a seedling, but it sounds good to me) I pulled the little plastic picks out of the dirt and read them. I found that some had lots of letters at the top after their names. I decided that I’d best get some help, and I figured the person tending the stand probably didn’t know any more about it that I did. So, I waited. I kept reading the names and descriptions and wondering which would be the nicest juiciest best tasting tomato. If I was going to go to all this gardening trouble, I wanted perfect.

I began eyeing others who were there picking out tomatoes. I struck up a conversation or two and tried to glean some information from those who seemed potential candidates as master gardeners. I wanted a real honest to goodness experienced farmer. I needed help in tomato plant selection 101.

I was finally blessed by a man who seemed to fill the bill. He carefully and patiently explained to me the meaning of all the little letters and pointed me in the direction of some plants that just might suit what I was looking for. He has his personal choices, and I had no reserve about making them mine as well.

I purchased four little plants, some wire cages, some fertilizer, and some gloves. I thought the gloves would be a nice touch. I knew there were a few tools at home, so didn’t bother to purchase any of those.

I planted the tomatoes with great hope and expectation. I could just picture lovely red luscious perfect skinned tomatoes. My tomatoes would be bug free, sweet, and juicy. I almost felt I owed it to my departed father and his line of farmer ancestors to produce this one small crop of tomatoes. I bowed my head and asked a special blessing on my tomato crop. I did.

JuJu and Grace came over and couldn’t believe the tomatoes in my yard. The vines were everywhere and absolutely full of tomatoes. Bugs: there were no bugs. My friends just shook their heads and looked at me with a dawning of new respect. Somehow this disaster of a gardener was growing out of this world tomatoes. I smiled... several times. I smiled every time they came and commented about my tomatoes. They said, ‘CJ, I can’t believe you grew these tomatoes!’ It made me happy.

I had so many tomatoes that I purchased a dehydrator and packaged them to be used in the future. When fall came, I picked a huge box of the last green ones clinging to the vine before the hard freeze. I wrapped them and stored them in a little building behind my house. I had fresh home grown red tomatoes all the way through November and into December. I even learned to fix fried green tomatoes. Yummy!

Sadly, last summer I went back to my old ways. I have no tomatoes, and I am sad. I’m thinking about getting more tomato plants in the spring. I guess if I’m going to eat them, I must plant them and till the soil. Lesson learned.

Up Close And Personal

I've been looking at vacation pictures. That's the nice thing about having taken the time to put them into albums. I can enjoy the vacation over and over again. I couldn't resist sharing these photos. No zoom lens used here. Really.

Our Small Town traveling group was happily touring the South Dakota Badlands and the Pacific Northwest. We made this trip in July of 2006 and hoped to escape some of the summer heat. We hung to the hope that latitudes further north should be cooler. It didn't happen, at least not that summer. It was HOT.

These fine pictures were taken at the Kreycik Riverview Elk and Buffalo Ranch in Nebraska. We were scheduled to take a covered wagon tour of the working ranch. We did it, in spite of temperatures that climbed into the triple digits. I thought we might die out there of heat exhaustion, but that didn't happen. A breeze was our saving grace, and we lived. I imagine the owner would have preferred to NOT go, but he mounted up on the tractor (no animals were used to pull us) and off we went. I will admit that I really wasn't sure I'd survive that heat. I don't do well with heat. I felt rather like a martyr as I climbed off the nice comfortable air conditioned tour bus and into a wooden covered wagon pulled by a tractor. However, I couldn't pass up the opportunity, so sacrificed comfort. We all were a tad skeptical, but we lived. It was a good tour, and a good experience.


For those hunters among you, I include a photo of the elk with antlers (You can tell I'm not a hunter) .. Here is a picture of the owner's child on an elk.



If tootling off to take a look at this working ranch, or ordering meat, which can be bought here is of interest, check out the place using the following link. Kreycik Elk and Buffalo Ranch

Directions Clear As Mud

I-Needa is in cooking mode... part of the nesting cycle, I believe. Today she told me about a bit of confusion over cooking directions. She read them to me from the package of rigatoni. I quote:

'Cook the rigatoni in boiling water, uncovered for 3 minutes until the internal temperature reaches a minimum of 165 degrees for 15 seconds.'

You have GOT to be KIDDING! I’m just trying to picture how one would manage to do that. Is this something I missed in Cooking 101? Does one spear the rigatoni as it floats around in a pot of boiling water and plunge a meat thermometer into it for 15 seconds? What? Need a clue here!

I’m wondering if anyone really follows those directions. Why don’t they just say al dente or something.

I looked ‘cooking rigatoni’ up on the Internet. . The recipes I found mostly said, ‘Follow directions on the package’. Go figure.

I-Needa had them stuffed with some kind of spinach mixture and they were closed at one end. She improvised with the instructions and just used a little common sense. Asking herself what she would use to gauge if they were done, she watched the cooking process and decided they were cooked when they lifted from the bottom of the pan and floated to the top.

The whole thing reminds me of other great instructions. I love the boxed items that have directions on the bottom of the box. I might want to know how long it would take to bake it to decide if I had the time. I wouldn’t want to turn the item upside down, so have to hold it in the air and tilt my head backward. What’s with that?

I’ve always thought I was fairly good at reading and following instructions, but this one has me very confused. I think I’ll pass.

Birth Of A Photographer

I-Needa took this picture of her Christmas Cactus a couple of years ago. It is one of my favorite pictures. I think nature is stunning, and this exquisite flower on a cactus catches my eye.

I’ve never been a photographer. It’s a wonder that I have pictures of the kids growing up. Thankfully, others around me were more blessed with a burning desire to capture ‘Kodak’ moments.

I’m not saying that I never took pictures, but getting the film developed seemed to be a challenge I couldn’t master. Follow through became an issue and rolls were left to ruin. Occasionally I felt something stir in me that wanted to take pictures, but the stirrings were brief and quickly dissipated.

When digital cameras first came to the market, my interest was stirred again. I knew I wanted one, but I didn’t make a quick commitment that would drive me to the store to actually purchase one. I seemed to linger in limbo, awaiting some event that would drive me to make a decision.

The event came in the form of a post retirement trip. (Oh joy!! Retirement!) Spending years in the field of education, my schedule was always firmly fixed by the Board of Education. I repeatedly said that, when I retired, I wanted to take a fall trip to New England. I wanted to be a Leaf Peeper. I wanted to see the glorious colors of New England and revel in that fact that I was there and not confined to the classroom.

It happened just like that. I didn’t even seek it out. I just happened to find out about a group of people, all from my small town, who were headed out in October for a tour of the New England States. 'Oh, glory! I’m going', I said.... and I did.

What sane person would head out on that wonderful trip without a camera? Not me! I headed to the computer for research. After about a week with my body firmly glued to my computer chair, I made a decision. I went to Nearby City and made the big purchase, the one I’d waited to make for many years. I held in my hand a key to future fun and preservation of memories. I bought a digital camera.

The trip was wonderful. I took hundreds of pictures and made a Creative Memories album as soon as I got home. I can take my book and relive that wonderful experience over and over again.

I-Needa received a camera the next Christmas. She was thrilled. We’ve been exchanging wonderful ‘Canon’ moments via e-mail. There are pictures of family gatherings, all tucked away in Creative Memories albums. Capturing moments to savor over and over again has become a passion. The beautiful flower on the Christmas Cactus is gone, but I can still look at it and remember how excited I-Needa was when she first saw it. She grabbed her camera, took a few pictures, and e-mailed it to me to share. Lovely, really.

Living To Shred

I’ve been sitting looking at one of the modern conveniences that we all have learned to love or hate. I pulled out the stack of bills from last year and am getting ready to start the shredding process. Oh, joy! In the ‘good old days’ there was no real concern that anything with a name and/or address must be shredded into smithereens. Now we must constantly worry about someone else wanting to assume our identity and ruin our lives. In order to save us from doom, the all important ‘must have’ item for every home has become The Shredder.... plain or deluxe version.

I opted for the less expensive home version. Now I am sad that I didn’t get something more expensive that would handle those dreaded staples, credit cards, and CDs. I have to spend extra time making certain that no devilish little staple will ruin The Shredder.

At first glance, the ordeal of shredding every scrap of paper received doesn’t sound like much of a problem. It seems doable. Having other things to do as well, it takes a certain amount of prioritizing. It takes time to sit down and remove every evidence of my existence from the offending document. After a through inspection to make sure my life won’t be ruined by this scrap of paper, I can put part in the trash can and part in the ‘to shred’ sack. The ‘to shred’ sack is growing with frightening speed.

I’m wondering exactly how much of my life minutes will be spent in the shredding process. My friend, JuJu (a name bestowed on her by grandchildren), has been moving s l o w l y to a new home in a different state. She is a saver off all things. However, moving brings a startling bit of reality into the situation, so she began shedding many of the ‘not needed’ items and shredding many many years of ‘stuff’. When I’d call her and ask what she was doing, the usual reply was ‘Oh, I’m shredding.’ For awhile, shredding took over her life.... the woman lived to shred.

I’m sorry there are so many people out there who can find nothing better to do in life than make life miserable for others. If only they would put their problem solving skills to some better use and quit worrying about wanting to have my identity, it would benefit lots of people. I know that the more technical toys we have available to us, the more open we are to those with devious minds. Personally, if they are caught and given room and board guaranteed by the state, I wish they would make them shred paper day and night. I say, the punishment should fit the crime.

My Favorite Soup

I've not always cared much for soup. That has changed, and I've become a great fan of Soup Season... that wonderful time of year when the temperature goes down and there are cravings for a little warmth in the tummy. I posted this recipe some time ago at Yahoo, but I'm afraid you might have missed it.... or not copied it down. This really is a MUST have.

My favorite soup as of now is one I picked up a few years ago. It is called Taco Soup, and I have no idea where the recipe originated. I didn't create it, but I love eating it. I don't want anyone in the world not to have this soup, so am going to post it here just in case you, too, are a fan of Soup Season.

Here goes: Taco Soup

1/2 pound ground beef (okay.... I use a pound... I want MEAT)
1 can diced tomatoes (if you like spicy.. get some with diced green chili peppers)
1 can tomato sauce
1 can hominy or corn (I love hominy)
2 cans beans (Black Beans)
2 cups water
1/2 onion... chop chop
1 package taco seasoning
1 package dry ranch dressing mix

Fry up beef and drain it. Add everything in a big pot and heat it up.. Yum!
This freezes extremely well. I put the leftovers in individual containers and have it on hand. I'm never without this in the winter. It is easy to make!! It is also Weight Watcher Friendly!! You can't lose with that.

Thoughts at 4 A.M.

It seems I've found a new obsession: This blog! I hope I'm not alone in the world when it comes to waking in the middle of the night and having the mind take over. When thoughts start flowing, the body gets going. I'm afraid I developed a long list of 'how to' questions in the middle of the night. I was having such a good rest, then it happened. I remember turning over and thinking how nice and warm it was in the bed. Rather than fall right back to sleep, I had another thought..... 'Gee... I wonder if....' That was pretty much the end of sleep for me. As time passed, the flowing thoughts accelerated. I finally gave up and surrendered to the fact that it would be easier to arise and shine than stay tossing and turning in the nice warm bed. I added a little fuel to the fire: Coffee! Yum. I'm trying caramel drizzle.

I hope as I post this itty bitty note that some out there are happily in slumber. Tonight I'm going to try to NOT think before going to bed. I've also scheduled a nap for the afternoon.

Happy, Happy New Year!

Yes, Happy, Happy New Year! 2008

I hope everyone enjoyed bringing in the new year, whether with friends or family, or settling back in a good comfortable chair in front of a fire, or just being able to head off to bed early and wake up to a fresh new year.

I would have opted for the fire, chair, and perhaps a little cup of hot chocolate or cider, but ended up with friends. Six of us saw the old year out together with good homemade chili with all the trimmings and an evening of domino and dice games. I rather like Chicken Foot. As the old year came to a close, we sat around a large table laughing and having a great time. The fact that these old gals were up long past bedtime was showing. We began to droop long before the magic hour. At one point I laughed and suggested that if we continue this tradition we might one day be found all sitting around the table with our heads tilted forward fast asleep. I rather wish Norman Rockwell was around to paint a scene like that. I think he would have liked that as a piece of humor suited to capturing.


I'm thinking about that nice clean slate that comes with new beginnings. It seems to be a part of our human nature that we forgive ourselves for the things we should have done and didn't quite accomplish. We then have the opportunity to do better, improve ourselves, succeed where we failed. It is a fresh start.

I remember reading once about customs around the world in beginning a new year. Without doing a bit of research, I can't remember exactly which country held this practice, but I remember the custom of throwing all the dishes out the windows. I really have a hard time seeing my neighbors pitching dishes into the yards. I know there would be lots of people running from yard to yard checking it out to see if they could find some wonderful new dishes. It is rather like 'the grass is always greener' theory.

I do have a list of things to try to alter in the new year. Some things should receive less attention, and others more. Some have been on my 'to do' list for years, but the new slate means I can try again.

Since retiring from years of teaching in the elementary school setting, I find that I must continue with some form of art. I've latched onto making cards as a craft and hope not only to make them, but to actually get them mailed. I've laughed for years that I didn't send letters as couldn't find the Post Office. E-Mail has changed that for the better as far as I am concerned. Keeping in touch with friends and family is only a click away. However, if I'm going to craft, I really need to send.

I'm also going to try out new things, such as this new blog site. I'm afraid Yahoo is getting out of the blog business soon, and people are wondering what to do. They promise a transition from the current sites to a new one, but there may be issues. What is life without issues? I wouldn't mind trying a year without issues.

At any rate, I hope you continue to visit me here, and I pray a blessing on all for fresh starts and opportunities.

(I have to tell you that I've spent awhile trying to get this at the top of the page. You may see it elsewhere too, but I have perseverance on my side.) =)