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.

Morning Coffee

For nearly two weeks the White House and rebellious Republican senators have fought publicly over whether President Bush's plan for detaining and interrogating terrorism suspects would give a president too much authority.

Many believe this is legislation Republicans likely will use on the campaign trail to assert that Democrats want to coddle terrorists.

The American people have been tortured enough... please, no more.

New information released today is just another indication of how human nature has a tendency to just take things for granted. A group of researchers believe, based on the clothing she is wearing, Mona Lisa was either pregnant or had recently given birth. Evidently the veil-like head garment that she wears (the veil that many of us have never even noticed) can be considered maternity wear. Seems the 500 year old paint is holding up fine, but the poplar board that Leonardo used as his canvas is warping just a tad.

Time has tendency to slip away, but here's proof that some of us seem to have an unfair overabundance. This lady in the UK has knitted a "to scale" English flower garden.
Click here for a gallery of pictures from the knitted garden!


Fall is definitely here, casting long afternoon shadows.