How about some Shrooms?

My other half and I spend every Friday evenings with friends. We all bring appetizers so no one has to go to any real trouble and we can all just enjoy each other. This keeps it fun and trouble free.

This recipe I'm sharing is meant to be an appetizer, but everytime I make these, we end making a meal of them.

Marvelous alone or serve with other appetizers to wow friends at get-togethers... best of all, only 4 ingredients!

Stuffed Mushrooms

1 lb large mushrooms
1 lb hot Italian sausage
1 bunch green onions
1 8-0z pkg cream cheese

Pull stems from mushrooms; may reserve for another use. Cook sausage in skillet until done; drain and crumble. Return to pan. Add chopped green onions and cream cheese. Cook over low heat until cheese melts.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Stuff mushroom caps with mixture. Place on cookie sheet or baking pan. Cook for 20 minutes.

Looks Can Be Deceiving

Trust your gut instincts and you'll never go wrong. If something just doesn't feel right, it generally isn't right.

Always pay attention to those red flags your mind throws at you.

Apple Sour Cream Coffee Cake

I'm always on the lookout for quick recipes that look and taste like you have slaved away. Here's one that takes just 3 apples and makes two coffee cakes. Delicious!

Apple Coffee Cake

1/2 cup butter flavored Crisco
1-cup sugar
2 eggs
1-teaspoon vanilla
2-cups flour
1-cup (8 ounces) sour cream
1-3/4 to 2 cups chopped peeled apples

Topping:
3/4 cup brown sugar
1-teaspoon cinnamon
2 tablespoons cold butter
1/2 cup chopped walnuts

In a mix bowl, cream shortening and sugar. Add eggs and vanilla; mix well. Add flour to the creamed mixture, alternately with sour cream. Stir in apples. Transfer to two greased 8-inch square baking dishes. For topping, combine brown sugar and cinnamon. Cut in butter until crumbly. Stir in nuts; sprinkle over batter. Bake at 350 degrees for 30-35 minutes or until a toothpick inserted near the center comes out clean.

May be frozen up to six months: thaw in refrigerator overnight.

Makes 2 coffee cakes. 6-9 servings each.

The Boomers' Kids

I tell you what, the internet sure is a wealth of information. All this time I hadn't really classified myself as a Boomer, but as it turns out, I am.

Also, I thought my 20 something children were Generation X. Wrong again--they're Generation Y.

Based on what I've read about Generation Y as a group, looks like I'm not the only whose parenting techniques are coming under scrutiny.

No matter. I'm the eternal Pollyanna... I have hope.

It's never too late to change your path. Just get off the smooth surface and on to the path with the bumps and potholes.

We're All In this Together

We all like to think we are an island--but, I'd definitely have to say "no."

No matter what you do, it has the domino thingey going and affects oh so many that were never a thought in your mind when you're moving right along a breakneck speed doing whatever it is you feel you MUST do.

I've been having a bit of a midlife-empty nest weekend. All those thoughts filled with "should've" and "could've." But it is what it is and I have read (and tend to agree) that you may never be able to enjoy the present if you live in the past.

What is it about human nature that makes us analyze the past in hopes we'll uncover some new tidbit of information that will suddenly enable us to make sense of it all?

Bend So You Don't Break

I remember it was a warm evening for February. I drove with the windows down all the way through town, and under the underpass near the railroad tracks--the same underpass that was notorious for catching trucks whose drivers weren't thinking about the height of their vehicles until it was suddenly too late.

My roommate, Angela, and I drove out of town and on to the winding gravel side roads… I don't recall--now some 30 years later--much else except that I wrecked my car. I knocked down a few trees and went through a fence. I think the windshield was busted, the roof and a door was caved in and the car had to be towed.

I think we were probably both just limber enough that evening to avoid injury.

The police came, no tickets were issued and no ambulances were called. A friend of my came by in the midst of all this and gave us a ride to my boyfriend's house.

I know that it took 3 or 4 weeks to repair my car. During that time, I borrowed my boyfriend's car and/or van to get back and forth to my job at the local newspaper.

I asked my mother, just this morning, what she recalled about this particular incident. She said she knew alcohol must have been involved because Angela and I were always drinking and getting into things.

I don't recall having that conversation, 30 years ago. I asked her--point blank--did she say anything to that effect, when I had the accident.

"No," she said. "Because it wouldn't have made any difference."

Repair The Road

I have mentioned this theory I have about the real life space time continuum (versus the one in the Back To The Future movies) and folks look at me like I have 3 heads.

I believe our children are destined to experience much of the same, or similar, instances of our life. Also, with that same thinking in mind--we are destined to experience much of the same trials and tribulations that our parents did.

Now the trick here is--armed with this information--we must alter the space time continuum so that our children can be spared some of the unpleasantness; the heartache, the pain, the grief.

I don't believe there's much we can do about the spilled milk... what has happened has already happened. The path has been laid and they'll just have to deal with what's ahead and we will have to suffer because of what has already been done (sort of like Global Warming).

But... we can change things from this point forward so the path will improve...

Once More... With Feeling

I figured it out!!

My remedial training is male menopause--or manopause, if you want to be all politically correct.

I divorced my girls' father during his manopause. I reacted to his weirdness, decided I wanted no part of it, and fast as my little feet could carry me--moved on. And in all the time since then, whenever the issue is brought up, I just shake my head and sigh--remembering all that happened before, during and after.

I guess I didn't learn anything from the experience. I didn't want to... didn't take the time. In fact, it never crossed my mind to be a part of it!! No matter, because God has seen fit to present male manopause in all its glory, one more time.

My other half, Husband Number Three is turning 50 in the spring. What makes it so difficult is he just realized he's not 20 anymore, within the past year or so.

I know midlife is a shocker. And I sympathize-- and empathize! Instead of the girly existence I had grown so comfortable with, I now know I am middle age. I can feel it in my knees and hands. I can see it when I look in the mirror. It's a battle of hair removal and moisturizer.

I have come to understand my menopause --I'm in my 4th year. If what I've been reading is correct, I'm on the downhill slope. (Woohoo!) So, thank you God, for giving me a bit of experience under my belt with my menopause, before giving me the remedial training with manopause.

And I'm going to put all I have into being just a little more patient, and just a bit more understanding, because I really don't want any more remedial training.

Southwestern Spuds

3 medium potatoes

Salt and pepper, to taste

1 cup ( 4 oz) shredded cheddar cheese

1 cup ( 4 oz) pepper jack cheese

3 green onions, chopped

1 can (2.25 ounces) slice black olives

Sour cream and salsa, optional

Pierce potatoes, place on microwave safe plate on high for 8-10 minutes or until almost tender. Cool slightly; cut into 1/8 inch slices.

Arrange half of potatoes in a greased microwave safe 9-inch pie plate. Season with sale and pepper. Sprinkle with half of cheese. Repeat layer. Top with onions and olives.

Microwave, uncovered for 10 minutes or until cheese is melted and potatoes are tender. Serve with sour cream and salsa.

Yield: 4- 6 servings.

Taco Stuffed Pasta Shells

2 lbs ground beef

2 envelopes Taco seasoning

1 8 oz pkg cream cheese, cubed

24 uncooked, jumbo pasta shells

1/4 cup butter, melted

For the Casserole:

1 cup salsa

1 cup Taco sauce

1 cup ( 4 ounces) shredded cheddar cheese

1 cup ( 4 ounces) Monterey Jack cheese

1-1/2 cup crushed tortilla chips

Serve with: 1 cup ( 8 ounces) sour cream & 3 green onions, chopped.

1. In skillet, cook beef over medium heat until no longer pink. Drain. Add Taco seasoning; prepare according to package directions. Add cream cheese; cover and simmer for 5-10 minutes or until melted. Transfer to bowl and chill.

2. Cook pasta according to package directions; drain. Gently toss with butter.

3. Spoon salsa into a greased 9-inch square baking dish. Fill each shell with about 3 tablespoons of meat mixture. (what won't fit into your dish can be frozen for up to 3 months!)

4. Top with taco sauce. Cover and bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes.

5. Uncover and sprinkle with cheeses and chips. Bake 15 minutes longer, uncovered. Serve with sour cream and onions.

Later, To use frozen shells: Thaw in frig for 24 hours (shells will still be partially frozen). Place salsa in greased baking dish, add shells and taco sauce. Cover and bake at 350 for 40 minutes. Uncover, continue as above.

Let's Try Something New...

Creative pursuits keep us mentally challenged and as relatives have pointed out many, many times "Idle hands are the devil's playground." (Is it idle hands or idle minds? I guess either could invite disaster).

I've taken to trying new recipes and have found the most marvelous Taco Stuffed Pasta Shells and Southwestern Spuds. Since I left Texas, I have yet to find good Mexican or Tex-Mex food. You have to try this recipe. I'll post it later today with a photo...

I'm also still working on a 4-tiered prairie skirt for my other half's elderly aunt. She kept the pattern for 7 years or so, along with 2 pieces of crushed velvet. The pattern is out of print and has been looked at so many times, the envelope is as thick as Webster's dictionary. The pattern must also be altered to fit her and I am just anal enough to be the one to do it properly. I am pushing myself to get the damn thing completed!

My father has expressed an interest in Ebay. He has a digital camera and a PC, and I have faith he will do well... I have agreed to "teach him to fish."

And today, the first signs of spring... sunshine! And with it, the promise of warmer temps and opportunities to dig in the yard.

Round Two

You see the way he's looking at me?

I know. I know. Human nature makes us believe if we ignore things they will go away. But we all know that never works.

If we sweep it under the rug, eventually we'll trip over the big fat lump and fall flat on out face. I've tripped once or twice and now the lump in the rug is really getting very annoying.

Problems do not go away. They must be addressed... worked through and resolved. Damnit!

My Mama always says there's no appreciation if you don't have to work hard for it. Nothing comes easily.

I've come to believe that God will give you an opportunity to learn, and if you don't get it, he'll give you another opportunity. With that thought, it would be wise to get it first go round, if possible. I guess I'm just not as wise as I once thought... or maybe just a little more human.

Roadtrip!

This single word can either create squeals of anticipation or the moaning and groaning of dread.

I'm sure when Ms. Astronaut was planning her roadtrip, it made perfect sense and was carefully planned.

I look forward to hearing just what prompted her to chase after a woman who may have been involved with a man that she is somewhat involved with...

Also, how do you think she feels about her trip--and her well-laid plans-- now that it's all said and done.

Hindsight inevitably affords us the opportunity to view events from a fresh perspective.

Have You No Shame?

One year ago yesterday, I started this blog. In honor of this milestone, I'm sharing a bit more...
my cafepress shop.

The tees are not getting the rave reviews I had anticipated, but I'm having fun.

Find these and more at http://www.cafepress.com/mizmellonline

Round & Round We Go

Life changes quickly. So quickly, that often we don't realize it until after it's done.

I vaguely remember a Tarot card some 5 years ago that warned my current course would alter life as I then knew it. Well, life at that particular time was too full of lawyers and courtrooms, so I welcomed the change.

Five years later, I'm 1400 miles away from the two single most important things in my life… the two things that can make or break my day… my girls.

They opted to stay with their Dad. Nice looking fellow, who could fool even the best into thinking he's an okay guy. He's good company for an evening or two, but not a "long-haul" type of guy. Over time, I have come to realize his real worth was as a sperm donor .

Unforunately, my daughters still have hope that one day they will wake up and he will be that Dad they had hoped he would be along.

I believe in the "what goes around, comes around" concept. That's why the most satisfying interaction with my ex-husband is imaginary.

Besides, I'd rather continue the relationship I started with my daughters the day they were born... the mother-daughter bond that endures.

It bends, may get twisted at times, but never ever breaks.

Coming of Age

Happy 21st birthday Miss Jeni.

Avoiding Heartburn

Windshield time really is a blessing. If you're alone, you can talk to yourself. Yes, this is a good thing. It always helps to verbalize. If you have a traveling companion, you have the gift of uninterrupted conversation.

Yesterday I ventured out with packages and coerced my 70 year old mother into the Saturn for the 26 mile ride to the nearest Fed Ex location. The ride includeds blurbs from childhood, marriage and employment... random thoughts expressed honestly as they came to mind... giggles and rants.

I listen. Each trip provides a bit more insight into what is involved in a 53 year marriage. What works. What simply is not tolerated. How siblings turn into a silent support system as we mature.

It's hard for me to associate age with either of my parents. My other half points out that it may be because I have difficulty associating myself with the present number indicating my current age. Age is just a number.

I detest stereotypes... and the narrow-minded thinking that comes with it. People are like good meals-- meant to be savored and appreciated for their unique flavor.

Sleeping With The Memory

I took a ride with my other half the other day because he wanted to show me something. I became interested when he suggested I bring the camera.

I enjoy sharing landscape photographs with old friends in Texas. I love it when they're envious of the Virginia landscape. The twists and turns of the road provide constant visual stimulation--to say the least!--and the mountains seem to wrap around like a protective barrier.

My daughters have come to appreciate certain aspects of a change of scenery. Old and familiar offers no challenge. Life becomes a drudgery. Bad habits creep in and days run together. Before long, there is no time.

People make time for what is important. Or like my other half philosophies, "People do what they want to do." Maybe the tough part is figuring out what you want to do... or not playing out the many "what ifs" in your head.

Just keep moving. Do something. Then at the end of the day, you can rest peacefully with your memories.

Do You See What I See?

I'm am stilll dealing with the fact that my children have returned to their respective homes and I cannot see them daily...

Truth be told, it will probably be at least 4 0r 5 months before I can hug either one. Bearing that in mind, I will share this thought from DailyOM.com

Uncover Your True Face
Underneath the Mask

Many of us know the feeling of being stuck in a particular role within our families, as if we are wearing masks whenever we see the people we love. Maybe we are the good daughters, expected to always please others, or perhaps we are the family clowns, expected to be jovial and make everyone laugh. This same scenario can play out within a work situation or a group of friends. We may be so good at our role that we hardly even notice that we are wearing a mask, and yet, deep down, we know that we are not free to simply be who we really are. This can leave us feeling unseen and uneasy.

There is nothing inherently wrong with wearing a mask or playing a role. It is a natural part of any social dynamic and it can even be creative and fun. It only becomes a problem when you feel that you have no other choice than to wear that mask, and this is especially challenging if you realize you are never without one. Perhaps you have forgotten who you really are—a vast and unrestricted being of light—and have identified yourself completely with a role. You may be the dutiful, caring son who keeps his parents’ dysfunctional marriage intact. You may be the angelic wife who enables your husband to continue on a destructive path. You may be the cheerful daughter to a deeply depressed mother. Whatever the case, knowing the motivation behind your performance—the function of your mask—can help to uncover your true face.

Anytime we find ourselves stuck behind a mask, it is an indication that we are entangled in a dysfunctional dynamic in which our true self cannot be seen. We have been placed in this situation for the purpose of our own healing and, in some cases, the healing of others. From this perspective, life can be seen as a series of situations that call us to remove our masks—gently, and with great compassion for all concerned—to reveal the beauty underneath.

Saving My Money For Cheap Wine

(I'm passing along an amusing antecdote... sent to me from my sis.

My wife and I were sitting at a table at my high school reunion, and I kept staring at a drunken lady, swigging her drink as she sat alone at a nearby table.

My wife asks, "Do you know her?"

"Yes," I sighed.
"She's my old girlfriend. I hear she took to drinking right after we split up many years ago,--and she hasn't been sober since."

"My God!" says my wife, "Who would think a person could go on celebrating that long?"

Note to my Texas attachments:

Plans are finally in the works for a Virginia Women's Circle!

The Path Ahead

A Ray of Sushine

According to urban legend, two people looking at the same glass can see something entirely different.

As much as we’ve heard this, it’s still a fine example of how our perspective can mar or enhance or day to day living.

Some folks will refer to themselves as postive or optimistic, while other as quick to confess they are "realists..." as if being one way or the other was a permanent characteristic!

The fact remains that we are all capable of changing our perception if we simply make the effort.

Take a Stand

The Big Stinky Dog is Inside

"A person can run for years but sooner or later he has to take a stand in the place which, for better or worse, he calls home, do what he can to change things there. "
~ Paule Marshall

On Holiday

"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change... "

We realize this more during the holiday season--especially during the aftermath of the wild rush that is Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Interaction with in-laws and out-laws and relatives can wear you out. Everyone sleeps hard during the holidays... when they finally sleep.

The sleeping patterns of 5 individuals were made abundantly clear this season. Someone was up all the time, I think. Middle of the night trips to the kitchen or bathroom usually involved running into someone else who was either already up, getting up or going back to bed. It made for hot topics of conversation over coffee the next morning. We survived.

Adaptability is a virtue, indeed. My children have been blessed with this. They arrived suitcases in tow, to spend the holidays with their mother and this man she married 5 years ago. The house was quickly transformed into a "girly" house complete with the smells of scented lotions and the giggles and guffaws of two young women enthused over no work or school for a few days. Both pointed out that they were "on holiday."

I like the sound of that. The girls get but a small amount of time off and I am so proud they chose to spend it here. I think I'm most pleased by the comfort level they express in their day to day actions... here in an old house we have made home.

There's a level of respect we all have for one another and for the tight quarters we share over Christmas. An eyebrow may occasionally be raised, looks may pass between one or two--but no harsh words or opinions. I think we all realize we are what we are and we've got what we've got. This is family. What are you going to do with family?

You bend for family. You maintain a certain level of discretion. You let things slide and look at the bigger picture.

But most of all you love them unconditionally.

Happy Christmas!

They're Back

Time to practice all those daily meditations... the holidays are here.

We've shopped and cleaned, wrapped gifts and cooked, and cleaned again. But are really ready? On the outside maybe, but not mentally where it counts. We've kept ourselves really busy so we wouldn't have to think how well families blend, or how well blended families blend.

Just remember your manners. They'll save you every time. Its seems there is very little grief for people with manners. It may be because folks with manners realize there is a different type of behavior more appropriate for use in public places. My Jessica pointed this out last night at dinner.

"Why are you pointing?" she said over and over to me and my other half. I never realized how much I pointed... or how much my other half pointed. My eldest explained that pointing is an aggressive gesture and actually is quite rude. My, My! I certainly hadn't anticipated rudeness or aggression in my hand gestures.

I guess I had better work on that.

I am the Moon

I am The Moon

Hope, expectation, Bright promises.

The Moon is a card of magic and mystery - when prominent you know that nothing is as it seems, particularly when it concerns relationships. All logic is thrown out the window.

The Moon is all about visions and illusions, madness, genius and poetry. This is a card that has to do with sleep, and so with both dreams and nightmares. It is a scary card in that it warns that there might be hidden enemies, tricks and falsehoods. But it should also be remembered that this is a card of great creativity, of powerful magic, primal feelings and intuition. You may be going through a time of emotional and mental trial; if you have any past mental problems, you must be vigilant in taking your medication but avoid drugs or alcohol, as abuse of either will cause them irreparable damage. This time however, can also result in great creativity, psychic powers, visions and insight. You can and should trust your intuition.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

My Camera Died... and other suprises

I was beginning to think I had it all together... until yesterday.

Yesterday I took my mother Christmas shopping again. I don't remember if we went last week. But I did go shopping with my father last week.

Shopping with Pop is much quicker... almost manic. That's a man thing and he's a 72 year old man that's used to a regime... his.

I think his main intent on taking me was to pick out something for my mother. I bravely stood on the sidelines, encouraging him to make the final decision his own. I hope he understood this and will eventually be confident enough to admit he picked out the gift.

Which brings up an interesting point--when did buying gifts become such a problem? What happenend to the "thought" part? Granted, the best gifts are those that utterly delight the recipient, but we have all done that at some point in our lives... hopefully, many many times.

But now, all of a sudden, we second-guess ourselves to the point that we can't even make a damn decision. Often times, once we do, we still second-guess the decision, after the fact!

First off, a gift is just that--something one gives to another. How marvelous! Isn't it nice that someone thought enough of us to share? To go to the trouble of presenting us with something, expecting nothing in return but our gratitude? (Okay, I added the gratitude. That's a "me" thing.)

The bottom line is, the giver wants to make us smile. A gift is a token of appreciation and is not always a tangible item, either.

I try to follow one rule of thumb--to always give something I would genuinely appreciate myself.

Happily Ever After

My childhood was filled with marvelous fairy tales... tales of wonderful romantic meetings, trials and tribulations which ultimately led to "happily ever after." I've been accused of believing too much in the good, pristine side of things--so much so, that I fall pretty hard when reality presents itself. Perhaps.

But what I have found, is that we are all responsible for our own version of "happily ever after." There is no storyline to follow. We have to create our story and maneuver around all the dragons to get to that happy place. No shortcuts, no fairy godmothers. But sometimes a few magical things can happen.

If you stand up to the dragons, most often they will not devour you. If you have faith in you, if you continue to be you--as if by magic, the dragons will become smaller and smaller, until they are pretty much nonexistent.

How Clean Is Your Floor?

I've had two old friends resurface within the past 48 hours. The holidays are known for that. People get that "holiday cheer and good feeling" thing going and begin to try and figure out how to keep it going the whole year. Can't blame them for that.

It's tough to be nice all the time, though.

I blame a lot of my crankiness on hormones. Hell, I'm 3 or 4 years into menopause now. I understand it generally takes 5, so I'm optimistic--I think I can hang on. But I think the whole menopause thing is wearing on the fam...

I try to channel all those racing thoughts into positive energy, like scrubbing the kitchen floor.

So, a word to the wise: If my kitchen floor is clean, it's safe to come in.

Erma Saves the Day

Everything is fine... really fine.

I finally got the dreaded freezer defrosted... and partially restocked in anticipation of the holiday traffic. House still needs a good thorough cleaning, but I have been moving in 50 different directions with the sewing and the shopping and the partially done remodeling. (sigh)

I always say that life is a tradeoff. Why do I always forget it, too??

I know everything does not have to be perfect, but I strive for perfection anyway. Insanity, pure insanity.

After a rushed day Friday, my other half calls to say he's taking off early. I get home just 15 minutes or so ahead of him and put away the groceries. When he arrives he announces he'd like to have company for dinner. Of course, I totally flip out, because after all--the house is a wreck! We all know the bathroom should sparkle and the kitchen floor should be smooth as glass before you have company over. That's when I thought of Erma Bombeck.

One of the things she regretted during her last days was her lack of spontaneity. She said she wished she had worried less about grass stains and spent more time sitting in the grass.

"If I had my life to live over again I would have waxed less and listened more. I would have cried and laughed less while watching television . . . and more while watching real life. But mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute of it . . . look at it and really see it . . . try it on . . . live it . . . exhaust it . . . and never give that minute back until there was nothing left of it. . . . "

Old Erma was pretty wise... I've decided I'm taking a cue from her this entire holiday season.

Merry, Ho Ho

Time for the mad rush which is Christmas.

My mother and I have started the weekly shopping trips. At 70 years old, she boasts of 14 grandchildren and 3 great-grandchildren and shops for every single one... along with their significant others. She's definitely "showing the love."

I'm still learning to love. I have a wonderful book of meditations I read every morning with the intention of getting my day off to the appropriate start. It reminds me of things I should already know, but find myself forgetting.

My Jessica made mention of one such point yesterday... Fear creates anger. Fussiness, being a grump, crankiness... whatever form it takes, often stems from something much deeper. Human nature often makes us reactive to anger, rather than taking the time to understand the source or the real problem. Being reactive, of course, just adds "fuel to the fire."

But, if we take the time to try and understand the fear associated with the anger, there won't be any brushfires to put out.

Don't Be A Turkey

Another Thanksgiving soon to be neatly tucked away for reference. By that, I mean the giggles, guffaws and war stories that accompany a day with the relatives.

This year I am sans my girls. I'll be spending Thanksgiving with the in-laws, just as I have for the past five years since I returned to Virginia. I should be tickled that I have not had to cook since I moved back--other than a side dish and my West Texas Fair prize-winning crescent rolls--but I like to cook and I miss the family time. But that's a different memory.

I've read that you can't fully enjoy the present, if you dwell on the past. The present is staring me in the face, so I've put the butter on the counter to soften in preparation for making crescent rolls before going to my mother-in-law's for breakfast.

I've had to really push to be able to bring anything. I think she still views me as that 15 year old girl that dated her youngest son... How could I possibly know how to cook anything?? Never mind the fact, that I spent 20 some odd years out of her view, raised two children and such! Funny how our perceptions are clouded sometimes. We see what we want to see.

Being fully aware of this little human flaw, I vow to make this dinner a genuine pleasure by taking the time to drop all preconceived notions of everyone and look at them all with a fresh perspective. Happy Thanksgiving!

Traditional Threads

The days are running together at a much faster rate with the holidays staring me right in the face. Nonetheless, I'm proud to say, a large portion of my holiday shopping is done. All that is left is my Christmas sewing. (Okay... and a few packages to wrap. A few more to buy. And the baking.) But I'm focusing on the sewing this week.

I've been collecting fabric all year so that each person on my sewing list will have the most appropriately wild pajamas.

I started making pajamas for the girls several years ago. In fact, when they were little, I made most of what they wore. As time went by, they'd accompany me to the fabric store and pick out their own patterns and fabric. Once they hit high school, however, about the only thing I sewed for them was pajamas and the occasional bathrobe.

But I think they'll have to agree that their "homemade" items were always one of a kind. I'd also like to think these unique fashions helped build their individualism... and encouraged them to not be like everyone else.

These days, I'm noticing they are a lot more like me. I told my Jenifer just the other day, that I hear my words coming out of her mouth (and her sister's) more often as of late. She thought it funny when I admitted sometimes I am proud, other times horrified.

It makes me think of something my other half often says: "Throw enough shit out there and something's bound to stick."

Almost Five

We're 48 hours or so "post apple butter" and my other half is still playing catch-up on his rest. Yes, the weekend was tiring and after all, he did spend more than his share of 15-plus hours stirring the kettle, as well as over-seeing the entire operation. I'm really pretty moved by his sense of commitment and respect for the "the old ways" of doing things. But then again, he is a country boy.

Spending time--so much time-- with two other couples this weekend, has afforded me the opportunity to realize, and really count my blessings.

My house is far from being remodeled, but its come a very long way. Judging from the reaction from my visitors this weekend, it must be looking a great deal better than I realize. I'm lucky that the other half is a quite accomplished finish carpenter and does--upon occasion--have the time to put in a few finishing touches.

When a few married women get together and start discussing all the quirky little details of daily living, one either agrees or is totally shocked. In some instances, I was surprised--but overall, very thankful that my other half and I communicate. We talk. Hell, we usually don't agree--except on the fact that we are in this together and the other person's feelings DO matter.
I'll share the story of how we ended up together sometime... I understand from those who have heard it that it is a classic tale of romance spanning some 30 years--and we'll be celebrating our 5th wedding anniversary this December. This is my third marriage (yes, third) and I might be getting better at this...

My oldest sister says "her picker is broke." She's married and divorced three times now. I feel sad for her. Not only because things haven't worked out for her... but because she has no one close, to share the good and the bad.

When I divorced my husband of 18 years, I was so sure I was through... No want, need or desire for another man in my life. I am thankful now that husband number 3 was persistent... that he convinced me that most things worth anything, are worth much more if you have someone to willing to share them with you.

109 Quarts Later...

The last jar was sealed and tucked under the thickest towels I could find at just before 10pm last night.

The "morning after" in this particular instance is all about rings, lids and sticky stuff. Although I must admit, the men were much neater that I had originally feared. And much more willing to do whatever was necessary to guarantee the success of this venture.

Actually, everyone was very even-tempered and helpful. Almost like they were all on valium or something. Okay, there was an occasional glass of wine... but really no more than a glass or two. And that was only after the work was done.

I was very impressed with the clean up efforts by the men. When I looked out into the backyard this morning, I wasn't horrified as I expected to be. The kettle had been rinsed and there weren't 85 million coffee cups or a hundred plates on the table under the awning.

The weekend went well. We re-connected with old friends, made some new ones, and have a lot of apple butter.

Apple Butter Anxiety

Tomorrow is the big day. Four eager workers and 12 bushels of apples will make war stories and 27 gallons of apple butter at my house this weekend.

My other half had made apple butter with his father over 25 years ago. His fond memories are what sparked this two-day event... that, and the fact that he inherited the old copper kettle and a "still in the box" peeler.

Seems making apple butter was an annual event at the church he attended as a child as well. He phoned several of the older women from the church this week to compare the recipe, as well as to gather some additional tips and techniques. Needless to say, he was more than a bit disappointed when he learned that nowadays they used apple sauce rather than go to the trouble of peeling apples. Wonder how many years they peeled before that decision was made?

I understand canning and making jelly. I remember shelling endless bags of peas with my mother and Granny. We'd all set up on the screen porch at Granny's and snap or shell until our thumps were sore. Pretty soon, the adults would become so engrossed in their conversation, they'd forget the children were even there. That's when the conversation would get interesting and my sisters and I would become quieter and more attentive. Ah, the gossip... I heard a lot on that porch that I didn't fully understand until much later in my life.

When I was living in Texas, I planted two pear trees when the girls were toddlers so I could make my own pear honey.
Once the tress began to bear fruit, my two daughters were drafted for the canning experience, as well as any unsuspecting friends. The first few years, everyone eagerly anticipated the event... eventually, helping with the pear honey was used as a bargaining tool for teenage girls. Soon thereafter, even neigborhood friends became suspiciously nonexistent the weekends we peeled pears and made pear honey.

One of the couples involved in our apple butter project actually hosted the last event over 25 years ago at their home. It's good to have some seasoned veterans.

And the Wheels Go "Round...

It's almost 8 pm and the other half is snoozing on the couch. I have had my second shower of the day-- having sanded myself into drywall hell. I did manage to get the second--and final!--coat on the ceiling in the hall.

I've finished the second round on three walls in the living room. I love this spackling--I think I've mentioned it before--it goes on bubblegum pink and dries white. Great for a menopausal woman such as I--prone to forgetfulness.

I fell into bed yesterday with a book and the phone woke me up at just about midnight. I 'm so damn lazy, I have programmed rings for certain callers so I don't have to get up--I just listen to see if the phone call is worth my while. I have "no place like home" for my eldest and "fur elise" for my youngest. My stepson is "let me call you sweetheart" but that's a whole other can of worms...

Well, Miss Jessica called and we talked for about an hour and a half. Iwent to sleep with wonderful thoughts, but had the weirdest dreams. I dreamt my purse was stolen and I was really upset at having to replace all the important stuff--you know, social security card, credit cards and driver's license. I was a bit dismayed since I have goten pretty good at keeping a "stash" of money hidden in my wallet and it was gone too. I'm not sure what that all means and it bothered me for sometime this morning...

I jumped right into my remodeling... I have three walls done in the living room and the final wall I have left has one hole I have to patch. I think my other half is feeling a bit neglected... seems to me he would jump in and help to make it go faster, but hey, what do I know, right?

I will be so tickled when it is done and I can rest. But that's just a silly thought. When this project is done, there will be another...

A Multitasking Wiz?

I really meant to post yesterday, but my day ended wrapped in a polar fleece blanket on the sofa. I didn't sleep there--it's my other half's favorite place to snooze--I was awakened close to midnight and went on to bed. Just before I nodded off again, I thought of my blog.

I've been working to find a balance bewteen my website and my blog. I got this tip via email from Realage:

Think you're a multitasking wiz? That may be why your memory's "slipping."

The more things you do at once, the less likely you are to remember any of them. Sometimes that's no biggie -- if you're flipping through a catalog and watching a sitcom, who cares? But if you're hunting for flights on the Internet while talking on the phone and listening to the radio, well, good luck -- both the flight info and the conversation will probably be a blur. The solution's obvious: When something is important, be single-minded.

Hmmm... that might just be my problem.

I spent the better part of the day comparing flight times and prices for my daughters' Christmas flight. I searched the internet for the most inexpensive (of course!) fares and ended up with my old standby, Travelocity.
I looked at the other sites that advertised the guaranteed lowest fares, but after much research, found that their low price was before adding up to $96 in taxes and fees per ticket!!
I know many of you will be traveling or securing tickets for someone else, so pay attention to those low fares that aren't really lower after the fact. The sites I am referencing are travelation, ultimatefares, smartfares and cheapoair. The only site I found that lists the actual price with taxes and fees is Travelocity. It really is a what-you-see-is-what-you-get price.

Having A Plan Can Be Dangerous

I read an interesting quote: "Plans are useless, but planning is invaluable."- Winston Churchill

During one of the lowest points in my life, I remember Kim Basinger saying something along the same lines during an interview on "Inside the Actor's Studio." When asked if she had any final thoughts for the audience, she mentioned something her father had told her when she was very young: "When you want to make God laugh, tell him you have plans".

Essentially, we have no control over the outcome of so many things. But nonetheless, we constantly--on a daily basis--fail to realize this simple truth. So much time and effort is spent in the worry of people and events which are going to play out the way they are going to play out.

I'm not a Bible thumper, by any stretch of the imagination, but I think I finally understand "Let go and let God." It's really kind of freeing. God (or your higher power) has much more expertise in the lives of others than you or I will ever hope to possess.

I flip out occasionally, worrying over this family member or the other. I fret, overeat, nibble at my fingernails--and in spite of all that effort--can't seem to do a damn thing to change the outcome of events.

Doctors aren't the only ones who seem to think they can play God. Looks like us common folks make a fine attempt at times.

I don't know about you, but I am really very tired from all this worry. (I also understand from TV commercials, that worry causes stubborn belly fat.) I am planning on worrying less. And to quote Martha, "it's a good thing."

I like the color.

After all that sanding and patching, the entire wall looks like concrete. But its supposed to be textured. It has little flecks of granite than sometimes catch the light of the morning sun and sparkle just a bit. I love sparkles!

My other half calls it "definitely different" and says the walls "look pretty wild."

At any rate, I finished the first coat about 5pm and left the plastic dropcloths down, because I will be painting again. Those walls sucked up that paint and I have scraped the bottom of the bucket.

I'm off for more supplies!

Color me "Hooked"

My favorite place to shop is becoming Lowe's. I can spend a couple of hours quite easily and lose myself in daydreams of our home "with just a little work."

I have putty knives, sanding blocks and this really neat spackling that goes on bubblegum pink and then dries very smooth and white. I think I may be just a bit addicted to the tools and gadgets!



Three days in the hall of puttying and sanding has put me almost there. My other half removed the last door trim yesterday for me--the hallway has five doors! I plan on doing the last touch-up of sanding today and then I get to paint!

It's really beautiful to see white walls transformed by color!

Just Unplug It

I haven't always been a hermit.

In my previous life, I scarcely had time to think! Honest to God, I'd get half-dressed--run one kid to school--then finish dressing , fix my hair and make-up-- run the other kid to school. After that I could go to my 8+ hour a day job. Busy, busy, busy.

Lunch was an event. Happy hour was a social among friends at least twice a week. Most evenings were eaten up by school and extracirricular activities---as well as most weekends. How did I keep the house clean, laundry done and groceries in the house? I really have no idea... but it was done.

I've been in this area not quite 5 years now. There is no delivery I am aware of other than Fed Ex and UPS. Kids are gone. Just me and my other half, the four dogs... and the big ass cat.

There are days I can't seem to get anything done because of the phone ringing. I honestly have relatives that call 3 to 4 times a day--or more!

I've solved that problem (thanks to a suggestion from my other half). I unplug the phones and let voicemail catch it. Works great!

Maybe I should cut off the Nextel as well...

Life is a Trade-Off

I am constantly amazed at the number of offers from service providers that require a contract or service commitment. What ever happened to earning a customer's loyalty? Seems to me if you were doing things right, there wouldn't be a need for a contract or commitment from the customer. Call me old-fashioned, but back in the day, you had customers because they were treated fairly and you offered a good product and/or service. I challenge you to find that today!

I mentioned many times how I live way off the beaten path... but have you any idea what it is like to just have internet connectivity in my neck of the woods? I have satellite internet. My monthly rate is twice of most cable providers (no cable here!) and my bandwidth is less than half. But... I have no choice... absolutely NO CHOICE. The old phone lines have probably been here a hundred years and they hum upon occasion. No DSL either.

Consider this a "count your blessings" moment: Those of you out there who enjoy the modern conveniences that are foreign in my area-- how close is your closest neighbor? Do you hear sirens and boomboxes?

I hear the beagle next door in hot pursuit and need binoculars to see my mailbox. Peace and quiet.

And I bet my neighbors don't even hear me scream when I have to reset my satellite transmitter.

My Slice of Heaven

God knows I love a challenge... I think that's why I am where I am.

Each hurdle is greater than the last. The sense of accomplishment is wonderful, but I just need some breathing room between hurdles.

Is that too much to ask???

This week, I am a wallpaper stripper, hole-patcher and painter.

I promise, I'll share pictures...

Granny's Pear Honey

Seems the men folk have been visiting in my neighborhood about my Pear Honey. I recently shared it with a neighbor who has two big beautiful pear trees... this recipe will make very good of them!

This is my Granny's recipe. I have such wonderful, fond memories of making this with her and my mother, so I made it a tradition at my home in Texas with my two daughters.

We planted two pear trees when the girls were very young. Once the trees began to bear fruit, we'd draft the neighborhood girls to help with the chopping.

As years passed, friends became conveniently indisposed when the pears began to ripen! My Kitchenaid mixer--with the proper attachments--has made this a manageable task alone.

I must admit, I do miss the visiting that accompanies any group project

Granny's Pear Honey
3 lbs fresh pears
5 1/2 cups sugar
1 tsp lemon juice
8 oz. can crushed pineapple

Core, peel and finely chop all pears. Add all ingredients in 6 quart pot. Bring to boil. Simmer 40 minutes, stirring over low heat.
Spoon into hot jars and seal. (I usually run my jars through the dishwasher and time the making of the pear honey so it coincides with the end of the dishwasher's cycle.)




Delicious on hot biscuits or toast. Wonderful on a ham or grilled pork chops.
Enjoy!

Blue's Birthday

Yesterday was Blue's Birthday--he's a whopping 7 years old.

Blue was so small when I first saw him that he fit in my husband's hand and was able to concealed comfortably behind his back. He has since grown to 22 pounds.

My girls were hesitant to accept him right away... they were still mourning the loss of our 13 year old German Shepherd. Besides that, Blue grunted like a pig and had a tendency to sneeze right in your face (still does!).

He is a bit of a pig--my oldest has dubbed him a "food whore"--the only animal I have ever seen that will eat anything and everything. He stands by the island in the kitchen anytime I am cooking. He is so sure I'll drop something!


If he's not eating, chances are he's taking a nap. And yes, he snores.

He made the trip--and the transition--from Texas to Virginia with me. He's my daily companion and confidante.

I forget where I heard this, but it is oh so true: "If you want undying love and affection--get a dog."

Insanity?

Ever get the feeling that life is on fast forward?

I have been doing the usual fall cleaning and found my journal tucked way beneath a pile of neatly folded clothes that I just know I can fit into again one day. The clothes part is not so disturbing. I have come to understand that I will not be a size 6 again. If I hang in there and behave I may just be an 8 again one day soon...

When I found the journal, of course I sat right down in the floor and read the entries. Last one was done on my birthday a year ago! I had written how delighted I was because my other half actually baked me a birthday cake--from scratch. A wonderfully delicious carrot cake with cream cheese frosting! I didn't get one this year--not that I NEED it or anything. I just have all these photos of me all through life taken with my birthday cake (see October 4 post), so somewhere in my subconcious, I feel a bit cheated if I don't get a birthday cake. I started to buy one--but that would be all wrong.

I read on... the thoughts and issues that consumed the pages are the very same thoughts and issues that plague me on a day to day basis... a year later, no less.

Was it Einstein or Mark Twain that said "Insanity is doing the same thing day after day expecting different results?"

He Killed A Village

Have you ever seen anything like this?

My other half dug it up a day or so after filling the hole in the ground with gasoline. He finds it amusing that I did not know yellow jackets built nests in the ground. This one looks like a village with all its layers!

I guess I'm still noticing and appreciating the differences between living behind six-foot privacy fences in the city and living where you need binoculars to see your neighbors. Needless to say, I appreciate the latter.

The leaves are turning and early mornings are a bit chilly. When I put the fat cat out this morning, I couldn't help but notice how beautifully clear the sky is at 5am. I could clearly see constellations! When my youngest was interested in astrology, we'd have to drive out to the deer lease in an effort to escape the lights of the city.

There's talk of snow... I'm doubtful at this point. But, the talk will push me into getting those loose ends tied up. I think I'll dig up those two big beautiful hibiscus today and place them in my bedroom to brighten my winter days. I have a south window that heats things up just enough to make them bloom all winter.

A Crone is Born

Beautiful young people are accidents of nature
but beautiful old people are works of art. - Eleanor Roosevelt -

I've done a bit of research and it appears I am a crone. Actually, hag is also accurate given my age and menopausal state. I'm afraid slang definitions have taken over for the later word and ruined its chances of ever being uttered in a positive light.

I'm not 50 yet, but I see it in the not so far off distance.

“…you only begin to discover the difference between what you really are, your real self, and your appearance, when you get a bit older…A whole dimension of life suddenly slides away and you realize that what in fact you’ve been using to get attention has been what you look like…It’s a biological thing. It’s totally and absolutely impersonal. It really is a most salutary and fascinating thing to go through, shedding it all. Growing old is really extraordinarily interesting.” (Quoted by Germaine Greer: The Whole Woman)

I'm shedding it, for sure. I look the same to me, except for the gray hair and a few ever-growing lines. I realize, though, that I am now the new and improved me.

“She would be a woman who did not exist to embody male sexual fantasies or rely upon a man to endow her with identity and social status, a woman who did not have to be beautiful, who could be clever, who would grow in authority as she aged.” (The Whole Woman).

I’ve always spoken honestly… some may even call it bluntly. But I accept responsibility for my thoughts and make a real effort to communicate objectively, without blame or disrespect.

I realize that we each are responsible for our own happiness. Self acceptance and forgiveness is at the very core of this. Having done whatever necessary to heal my own wounds, I now have a deeper compassion for others.

“Weaving a cocoon out of the substance of one’s own life is the necessary prerequisite for the emergence of the psyche: in withdrawing we create a way out….Going down into the subconscious and coming back out again are vital parts of the soul’s search for meaning…which is what the crone represents. Through having to complete nearly impossible tasks, the Crone earns her healing power. Turning away from a world to discover whether you are really alive is unquestionably painful. But it is in the conscious acceptance of loneliness- when there is nothing else to do- that a natural process of healing occurs.” (Vicki Noble: Motherpeace Tarot).

Let's Get Real

I feel like crap today. I did yesterday as well. I barked and snapped and my sarcasm had a real sharp edge. There were several times my other half looked at me like I had three heads.
In spite of the fact that I didn't have the first Diet Pepsi and limited myself to 2 mere cups of coffee, I am feeling a tremendous sinus headache this morning. And to make matters worse, I'm going to have go out and face the general public--and read labels--just to improve my outlook today. That is, if I can find the energy to shower and dress.
I am proud of the fact that I have acknowledged to myself and to others that I don't feel good and have duly informed them, as a result, I may have the tendency to go off. I know I'm blunt and straight-forward but today things may go a degree or so more honest -- or raw.
Armed with this information, I declined the breakfast invitation from my mother-in-law this morning. When she called this morning, to tell me she had started the biscuits (she lives a mile away), I very openly admitted that when I don't feel good I have less patience and more sarcasm, and because of this I felt it best my other half go by himself. She told me her two sisters were coming. My husband's brother and his wife are there for the weekend, too. I sent banana nut muffins and some pear honey I put up yesterday.

I think I'll make some Comforting Chicken Soup.