Rainy Morning

The colors of the world on an overcast day are so much deeper and stronger than when the sunshine is bright.  It's a rainy morning here, the sky is cloudy, and the greens and reds and yellows are breathtaking.  I know that in a while the sun will shine and the hues and shades will be washed out and pale. 
I hope that my colors also shine truest when the sky is dark. 

We were supposed to be at the seventh annual Dan Barr Memorial Golf Outing in Hubbard, Ohio, this weekend, but another summer cold for me has kept us home.  I hope the weather will be perfect for the outing and that it is another successful day.  Thousands of dollars in scholarship money have been raised over the past years to send the children of firefighters, emergency medical personnel, and the like to college.  This is the first year we've missed it, and I am so disappointed.  It is truly like 'going home' to visit our friends in Hubbard.  I hope that we'll be able to make the trip for a visit this fall.

I planted a tiny garden this summer, the first that I've had in years.  It was late before I got it planted, and it's unlikely that I'll get much of a crop from it, but it's been fun watching it grow.  The corn tasseled before it made any ears, so there will be no crop there.  I still have some hope for the watermelon, pumpkin, and purple-hull pea plants.

What are purple-hull peas, you ask?  According to all of my Southern friends, "That's some GOOD eatin', right there!"  I've heard that from folks all over the south, and when Mr. William and Ms. Nina sent me some seed last summer, I decided I had to plant them.  My friend John, from Louisiana, says we'll never get a crop, as our growing season isn't long enough, but we'll see.  I might not get enough to cook up a good mess of them, but I think I'll have a few to taste. 

May your colors be bright today.

Looking Through the Curve

I love motorcycles.  I didn't always, but I fell in love with them a few years back, when I was forty-four years old.  I have taken two rider's courses, have a MC endorsement on my driver's license, have owned two bikes of my own, and have logged many thousands of miles in the back seat of the late lamented BigYellowBike.  Nearly all of my best friends ride, and I plan all my vacation time around motorcycle gatherings.

One of the most-stressed points taught in a motorcycle safety class is how to take a curve.  You don't want to brake once you've entered the curve...you slow down, look through the curve, then roll the throttle and accelerate into the straightaway.  You don't focus on where you are right now, you look toward where you want to go.  If you allow yourself to become fixated on where you are instead of where you're going, you will crash.  "Look where you want to go!"

It's important, whether riding curving roads or straight, that you ride within your ability and not 'over your head'.  Riding curving, twisting roads is a tremendous thrill, and when it's done correctly there grows a harmony between motorcycle and rider that is hard to equal.  Most riders love riding the twisties, and will compare stories of their rides at great length.    

But even the most-experienced rider needs the occasional straightaway, to rest the arms and mind and catch one's breath.  Twisties are good, and the very best thing about riding, but everyone needs a straight road every once in awhile.  It has felt very much like the last few years have been nothing but one curve after another, and I am ready for a straight stretch. 

I was explaining to my bosses the other day about my sister's condition.  They were concerned with how I'm handling it.  They are riders, too, and I thought of this motorcycle analogy.  I told them, "Right now, I feel as if I am riding at the very limit of my ability and there are curves ahead.  I'm trying my best to look through the curves and not fixate on where I am.  If I can keep from focusing on what's happening right now, I may be able to keep from crashing." 

I guess there could be many ways to look at that analogy...but the point I want to make, and you can take from it whatever makes you happy, is that I have to keep on keeping on, counting on the belief that there is something good around the curve...maybe even a nice straight stretch.  :- )

Summer Thunderstorm...
Last Friday evening, there was a thunderstorm here.  It had been quite dry for a little while, and very hot as well, so rain was needed. The storm came just at the beginning of dusk and the evening sky was still light when the thunder first began to roll.

I've said before that I love the rain, and will stand out in it, as long as there's no lightning.  It became obvious right away, though, that this was not going to be a stand-out-in-it rain.  I was, however, feeling a bit confined and blue, and I didn't feel like waiting out the storm in the house.  I went out onto the front porch, sat on the bench there, and lost myself in the rain and the light and the sound.

It was a magnificent show.  The treetops swayed wildly against the darkening sky, and I marveled that these great solid objects could bend enough to withstand such winds.  The thunder was loud enough on several occasions to be felt in my chest, and wild enough to crackle like fireworks.  Lightning blazed in the sky.  My hair curled crazily with the wind and the humidity, but the porch roof kept me dry except my bare feet and legs. It was magnificent.

I wonder how many people go out to sit and watch a storm?  I don't remember ever being frightened of them growing up, but the thirty years I spent most recently living on the open prairie made me somewhat nervous of them.  With nothing to stop the wind, it becomes a force with which to be reckoned.  Now that I live in a more sheltered place, I'm rediscovering my love of these great works of Nature.

With all that's going on in my life right now, I think it was a good thing for me to sit out and watch a thunderstorm.  It helped me remember that I am just a very small part of this universe we inhabit, and that the problems that take up so much of my thoughts are proportionately small, as well.  It helped me try to slow down...take it easy...just be.

It's a good lesson for me in these trying days.  I do love a good storm.

In Pursuit of Clarity...
A few days ago, I made a blog entry titled This Was My Sister.  You can read it by clicking the title.  The intended point of my words was that the wonderful, vibrant, funny, beautiful, loving, smart, giving, talented, and absolutely marvelous person I grew up knowing as my sister is being stolen from us by a cancerous tumor in the speech and language portion of her brain.  I wanted to post pictures of her as she was, as I remember her, as I have always known her, so that all would remember that very, very special person whom I love so dearly, and remember her at her best rather than as she is now, to celebrate a life lived to its fullest.
It is tragic that cancer can do this terrible thing.  It is heartbreaking and dreadful.  I know that my sister is still alive and that she is still my sister.  I intended to make the point that even though she still lives, I am mourning the person she was...the person who has been a constant and vitally important part of my life for nearly fifty-four years, the woman who is being taken from us, bit by bit.
I have spent a great deal of time with my sister these past two years as she has fought this horrid monster with all her being.  I have seen her slip away, a little at a time.  It is tearing me apart.
         --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It is apparent, however, that I did not find the right words to make that point.  Someone read the blog entry on my Facebook page, misunderstood what I was trying to say, and felt the need to point out on my page that she IS, not WAS my sister, as if I had not considered that fact. I apologize for any mistakenly-perceived callousness on my behalf.  I assure you all that no harm was intended.  I don't know any better way to say it.  If I offended, I hope I can be forgiven.  I am just a sister, mourning the impending loss of a sister, and I don't know how I will go on without her in my life. 

I Write Like...
This is a new phenomenon on the Internet, where one can paste a sample of one's writing and it is analyzed to compare it with famous authors. 

I write like
Margaret Mitchell

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

Poor Ms. Mitchell...I guess I've read Gone With the Wind too many times over the years! :D

I write like
Margaret Atwood

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

But then, I also write like Margaret Atwood...maybe this all just means that I should have been named 'Margaret'?

Wait...I also write like Kurt Vonnegut. I guess I need to find a writing style of my own.

I write like
Kurt Vonnegut

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

I write like
William Gibson

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

I write like
Leo Tolstoy

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

I write like
Harry Harrison

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

Who???  Off to Amazon to do a little writer-research...

This Was My Sister...
I have never been in this world without a sister. Mine is ten years older than I, and I can say with some surety that we have never had a cross word with one another.  Two years ago last March, she was diagnosed with a brain tumor, the same sort that Edward Kennedy had.  She has been fighting it ever since.  Her husband of just one year at the time of her diagnosis has been a constant and tender caregiver.  Lately, the cancer has been stealing away small pieces of her, making it more and more difficult to communicate.  Yesterday, she fell while her husband was at work, and may have hit her head.  At any rate, she was admitted to the hospital, and today we met with Hospice.  There are no words strong enough, so I will let these images speak for me.  Click on the images to view them in a larger size. 

My Boy!

I do love this face...

He spent a night and a day with me last week, and we had a fine time.  We weeded the garden, and he sang to the plants to help them grow...he said they were growing faster when he sang.  :)  Thank you to a dear friend who suggested that plants might grow better when sung to by children!

And then we picked blackberries, and "I eated them ALL, dramma."   As if I couldn't tell by the color of that face and those hands. :)

Then we went to my place of employment to pick up my paycheck.  I took him to my new store and let him explore.  The store was busy while we were there, and he helped me wait on a customer.

Next, we visited the building where I used to work.  We rode the carousel, he got to choose a small toy, and we had a soft pretzel and a drink.

Then home, for a 'peanut-belly-&-sammich' and a short rest on the porch swing.

It was a very, very fine day.

Click on the song title to be taken to a YouTube video of this song.

Beautiful Boy (Darling Boy)

John Lennon

Close your eyes

Have no fear

The monster's gone

He's on the run and your daddy's here

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful

Beautiful boy

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful

Beautiful boy

Before you go to sleep

Say a little prayer

Every day in every way

It's getting better and better

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful

Beautiful boy

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful

Beautiful boy

Out on the ocean sailing away

I can hardly wait

To see you come of age

But I guess we'll both just have to be patient

'Cause it's a long way to go

A hard row to hoe

Yes it's a long way to go

But in the meantime

Before you cross the street

Take my hand

Life is what happens to you

While you're busy making other plans

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful

Beautiful boy

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful

Beautiful boy

 

Ch-ch-ch-changes....

I work here now. I still work for the same family, but they just bought this store and made me the manager of it.  It's good to have a challenge again, and I think I'll really enjoy this little shop.  It's in an old, renovated barn.  The downstairs has been finished, but the loft is still, well, a loft. :)

So...here are some pictures I took today.

It's a work in progress, but I like this place :D

And now, for something completely different...

Here's a little something to cool us off...brilliant scarlet cardinals in winter-barren branches.

Our friend Ross took this picture from our back window last winter.  We lived on a farm for thirty years, with many barn cats...people see a barn, and think, "Hey, this looks like a great place to dump our unwanted cats!" and they do.  Because we had so many cats, we never had a birdfeeder, fearing it would just turn into a cat-feeder.

It has been a real treat to have birdfeeders here at the 'new' place.  Rich enjoys watching the birds of all sorts fly in to eat, and Robby loves helping Bampa fill the feeders.  We always know if there are no birds at the feeder, all we have to do is search the nearby trees to see which one the resident hawk is lurking in.  

We've had several species of woodpeckers, grosbeaks, chickadees, blue jays, finches, titmouses (titmice?) doves, and so many other kinds of birds.  I've been stalked through my kitchen window and met at my front door by hungry hummingbirds, who also like to buzz around my red-painted toenails when I nap on the front porch swing.

I love this place!

Song of Summertime

A few weeks ago, I showed you this picture:

Now the rasperry bushes look like this:

and this:

Yum!

We've been picking black raspberries for a week or so now.  The bushes are all over our property.  They pick and scratch my bare legs when I mow, but it's well worth it, come June and July when the berries are ripe.  Our Robby is a very good berry-picker, and I hope he'll be here this weekend to help.

We've had some storms here. Twice in less than a week we lost power. There are branches down in the yard and HUGE old trees down everywhere around us. 

I have always promised myself that I would stop coloring my hair when I had enough silver to make it sparkle.  That time is coming closer and closer.  I thought maybe this time I'd try a gray rinse or some gray highlights when my darker roots grew too long, but had no luck finding those things.

So, I did this, once again:

Maybe next time!

Savory Pie
(with thanks to my friend who named it for me)

I am not one who does a lot of cooking according to recipe.  My mother wasn't, either, and I did learn a little bit by watching her.  I will follow a recipe for some things, but many of my favorites are done in the old way: a bit of this, a pinch of that.

This is one of those things.  I have always liked pot pies...and the first time I served one to my grandson, he was overwhelmed.  "Mmm...mmm...mmmmm....That's my FAVE-WIT, Bamma!"  Not bad for a cheap, frozen Banquet pot pie.  I started learning then to bake my own.  I've gotten pretty good at it, but they turn out differently every time, because they always start with leftovers, 'a la Maison' to quote, once again, my friend.  That's just a fancy way to say, 'with whatever I happen to have on hand'!

Here, then is more of a road map than a recipe, and it's a favorite way of using up leftovers at my house.  You'll need some stuff:

• Pastry for a two-crust pie, and there's nothing wrong with buying it out of the dairy case at the grocery store!  Years ago my mother, who was well known for her pies, served me a slice and said, "This is a new crust recipe...what do you think of it?" to which I replied, "Mom, I think that's the best piecrust you've ever made!"  "FINE," she said, "It's PILLSBURY!" 
• Leftover cooked meat: pork, chicken, turkey, beef.  My favorite is pork tenderloin and I always buy a much-larger one than we need, just to make sure there is some left over.
• Pan drippings and some flour and milk, or leftover gravy. You might need a jar or two of ready-made gravy to be sure you'll have enough. Remember, this is about making something good to eat, and making it as easy as you can.
• Your choice of vegetables.  My choice is usually fresh-sliced carrots, and frozen broccoli, peas, corn, and pearl onions.
• Seasonings to taste.

Pre-heat your oven to 350 degrees F.
Place one crust in a pie pan, and prick the bottom a few times with a fork to allow the steam to escape.
Heat gravy in a large pot, or make gravy from drippings (see below).  Stir in cubed meat and vegetables until the mix looks 'right'.  Only you know what proportion of meat to gravy to vegetables will make you happy. 
Season with salt, pepper, garlic powder, etc., and heat until bubbly.
Ladle filling into the pie crust. If you made too much, freeze the extra for a future pie. If too little, add more stuff!
Cover the filling with the second crust, seal and crimp the edges, and cut a few slits in the top.
Bake at 350 for approximately one hour, or until crust is nicely browned.  Oh, and remember to place an old cookie sheet under it to catch the drips, if you filled it too full!
Take the pie out of the oven and let it rest for five minutes or so before serving.
Yum!!

My hard-and-fast nearly-foolproof method for making gravies and white or cheese sauces:
Heat your drippings, butter, juices, etc., in a large pot.  Add the same amount of flour as you have liquid, that is, if you have three tablespoons of liquid, add three tablespoons of flour, stirring constantly with a wisk or perforated spoon until the mixture is thickened and smooth.  Add milk or water a little at a time, continuing to stir until your sauce/gravy is the desired consistency.  Add cheese if you're making au gratin, stir until cheese is melted, and remove from heat.
Shhhhhh....a little secret of mine: if I'm making a cheese sauce I like to saute a little fresh garlic or garlic powder in the butter before adding the flour.

Bon appetit!

For Shelly...and on behalf of fireflies

I don't know how it happens that in all of my years growing up and sleeping in an upstairs bedroom I never looked out at night to see the fireflies.  I look forward to seeing them every year, and count their appearance as assurance that summer is really here to stay awhile.  I have caught them and put them in jars, made them into 'jewelry' (I know, it's cruel to do that, but it's a rite of childhood, isn't it), shared them with my grandson...but I never looked out from a second-story window to see them lighting up the world below.

Late last night I got out of bed to turn the window fan down a notch, and saw strange lights in the yard.  I checked out the road to see if there was some sort of odd traffic, but the road was empty, quiet.  I grabbed my eyeglasses from the nightstand so I could see better, and that was when I realized that what I was seeing was fireflies...lightning bugs...hundreds, maybe thousands, of them.  They were in the grass, in the air, in the highest branches of the trees. There were so many of them, twinkling, flashing, it looked like a faery dance in the darkness.  I was transfixed, enchanted, in awe of their beauty.  There were so many! far more than one would see standing on the ground.

My friend, Shelly, is in Germany, mobilized by the Navy Reserves to work with a medical unit on an Army base there.  She left last August, was back briefly this May and June for her daughter's high school graduation, and has returned to Europe for another eighteen months.  They don't have fireflies in Europe.  She hasn't seen any since she left Indiana last summer.  How sad it is that such a simple and beautiful part of our summer landscape is missing from the European continent in its entirety...and how odd and perhaps even frightening it must seem for visiting Europeans to see them here for the first time.

What a wonderful world this is.
Firefly images were downloaded here .

Not Enough Sense...

...to come in out of the rain.  How many times have I heard that over the years?  I grew up on a farm, and in farming the right amount of rain at the right time is like money in the bank, and so I have always enjoyed a good rain.  You can drive the woman off the farm, but you can't drive the farm out of the woman...or something like that.

I mowed today, and it was hot. Not unbearably hot, but hot enough for a Yankee woman like me to raise a sweat.  So after mowing for several hours, when it started raining, I checked the sky for lightning, and when I didn't see any sign of that, I decided to stay out and enjoy a nice summer rain.  I turned my face to the sky and felt the soft, cooling drops.
I had some things to plant, a lilac bush and some strawberry plants.  I planted the lilac next to the new back porch and the strawberries around the well head. After I finished my 'farming' chores, I strolled down to the stream to rinse my muddy hands and feet, and then just sat on the bridge for a little while to enjoy the shower. 
There is something calming about rain. 

In other news, I've finished some more socks.  These are in Kroy Socks in "Cascade Colors".  I like working with Kroy. It has a nice hand, is affordable, and is not too splitty.  Its one drawback is that the yardage seems a bit short. Do you see the darker blue toe in the picture on the right? That's how close I came to having enough yarn to finish the pair.  There's a tiny spot of blue from my scrap yarn basket on the toe of each sock.

The pattern is one of my own devising, and I'm afraid it doesn't show well in these pictures.  I like the long color repeats, and I just wanted something to add a little texture without taking away from the stripes.  I call the design "Stumbling Blocks" for the little trip-ups that life always seems to throw in my way. 

I have also finished Ms. Nina's socks from the Hailey's Roses pattern.  I need to get them in the mail soon...I'd have been in a bigger hurry to do that, but I'm pretty sure there's not a big need for wool socks in Alabama in the summer.  These are from my "Haley's Roses" pattern in Red Heart "Heart and Sole" Ivory, and Opal Uni-Color Pink.  This is the first time I've used the Red Heart sock yarn. It's inexpensive and nice to work with, but it looks as though the yarn is going to pill rather badly.  I may be replacing these for Ms. Nina fairly soon. :(

 

Have a wonderful day, and if it's raining, have sense enough to go out and enjoy it! :D

Life Continues...

I was standing in the yard this morning, trying to find a good signal for my cell phone...yes, our coverage IS that bad out here...when I spotted this female turtle preparing to lay her eggs.  I think she is a snapping turtle, or 'snapper' as we call them, but I'm not fully conversant on the many types and species of turtles.   Her shell measures maybe nine or ten inches from front to back.  When I went back out a few minutes ago to get an accurate measurement, she was nowhere to be seen, so I suspect she has buried herself in the sandy soil, and is laying her eggs right now.  There is nothing visible out there right now except for a hole in the ground measuring about an inch and a half.

How cool is this? :D

The Bridge

I have always loved this bridge. It crosses the St. Joseph River in the little town of Mottville, Michigan, not far from where I grew up.  It's narrow and old, the longest surviving three-hump camel back bridge in Michigan, and until twenty years ago it was THE only bridge to get from one side of the river to the other on U.S. 12, also known as the Pulaski Memorial Highway.  I crossed it countless times when I was growing up, and it gave a real sense of adventure if you met a semi while on it! 

The bridge was closed to vehicular traffic in 1990 and a new, wider bridge was built.  Local groups fought to keep the old bridge from being razed.  It was preserved and is now open to foot and bicycle travel only.  For those like me who are passionately in love with all things watery, it is a place of great beauty and peace, even with the rumble of traffic traversing the new bridge just feet away.  It's not uncommon to see people fishing from it in the summer.

In the river to the east of the bridge there are the remains of a piling from a much-older bridge that was torn down when the camel-back bridge was built.  My father told me that the hand-hewn beams that were salvaged from the destruction of that bridge were used to frame up the barn where we raised sheep and stored hay and farm equipment at my childhood home.  When I was a little girl, the owner of a restaurant beside the bridge on the banks of the St. Joe would go out just before Christmas and moor a rowboat with a Santa Claus mannikin sitting in it to the old piling, We always looked forward to seeing the Santa Boat when we'd drive past, for we knew that its appearance meant that Christmas would be here soon.

There is a set of wooden stairs leading down to the water from the bridge.  Last fall we stopped at the bridge with friends visiting us from Texas.  We walked down to the water and crossed below the old bridge on the huge boulders that lie beneath it.  This past winter, I stopped one snowy day and got some wonderful pictures.

Here is the same view, photographed yesterday afternoon on my way home from work.

 We've had a great deal of rain lately, and the river is just about as high as I've ever seen it.  I walked down the steps to the water yesterday and found that the rock-strewn pathway we used last September to cross under the bridge is completely submerged.  If you look very closely, you can see the boulders under the water in the picture above.

This is a wonderful place...come visit it with me one day!