Peace Thru Parsley

Yazoo Pass Bistro @ 207 Yazoo Ave

2012-01-17T13:13:00.002-06:00

Home alone, I didn't eat highly nutritious, microwaveable macaroni and cheese, I investigated Clarksdale's new downtown restaurant, Yazoo Pass.

Housed in a former retail store, the entire front is glass. Diners are welcomed to comfortable booths, tables and chairs, and a long, sturdy, raised table that can seat fourteen with stools. At noon it filled up fast with a mixed-age crowd.

I bought the last piece of Quiche Lorraine. Perfect! And I told the Manager so.

They serve soups, salads and sandwiches from 7 AM until 9 PM. I had the small salad and liked that the veggies were chopped small. Kids from 1-100 enjoyed the top-your-own, $.45 an ounce frozen yogurt with a variety of nuts, crumbled cookies, candies, sprinkles and syrups. I had chocolate with Oreo bits and slivered almonds. Yum!

Breakfast offers include bagels, croissants or breads with eggs, bacon, natural black forest ham, and or, swiss, cheddar or provolone cheese; an oatmal bar, french toast with pure maple syrup and homemade granola.

There is an espresso bar. Come summer, I want to try their smoothies: strawberry, banana, mango or peach.

The price and quality is comparable to Panera's. I will be a regular. Check it out!

2012 Red Convertible Travel Series

The Help on the carpet

2012-01-15T19:19:00.013-06:00

Author Kathryn Stockett exposed a Deep South way of life that sixty agents rejected. I am grateful the sixty-first saw her work's value and had the courage to do something about it. I caught up with the movie at our local library expecting the pull down screen to be the object of projection. Wrong. It was projected on the carpeted wall behind it for a larger picture.

Prejudice was not limited to the Deep South. In the Midwest, we had religious prejudice. In the 60's an African-American engineer came to our area to work for General Dynamics. It was the first time I witnessed racial prejudice.

I compared my Midwestern culture with the Deep South. Where I grew up, we were 'the help' with an outside bathroom, too. Ours was a two-seater outhouse. Jani and I learned to garden, cook and preserve our food, tend the chickens, hogs, cattle and occasional lamb, sew, entertain, write thank you notes and more. We never had a sitter or a nanny. When Mom and Dad had to go somewhere, we stayed with Grandpa and Grandma and Aunt Bobbe.

We watched Mom do it all in the house and the garden and train us to do the same. She helped Dad move livestock and kept the hogs back when he drove the tractor in with a load of corn. We sure could have used 'help', but it wasn't an option. Neighbor helped neighbor, but not on a daily basis.

We were self-contained. We grew our own food, and Mom and Dad did our comforting, guiding and inspiring. We knew we were loved. She belonged to Seven-O-Sals extension club that met monthly for practical household tips and homemade cake the hostess took great care preparing. At home chocolate with chocolate frosting was Jani's and my favorite. Mom's favorite was angelfood with strawberries and whipped cream. She knew exactly how many cobs to put in the cookstove to bake a perfect angelfood. Couples played Pinochle and Canasta and Square Danced.

Our lives were full and complete. We always had 'enough'. Extended family helped harvest the garden, clean chickens, and came in emergencies. One summer Saturday Mom knew something was up when three-year old Janis asked for soap and water. Mom searched and discovered she had dipped the black and white kittens in tan (ugly to me) porch paint. By the time Grandpa arrived, the kittens were stiff. He and Mom worked the rest of the day cleaning them off with paint thinner. They all survived.

Without hired help, willing neighbors were a treasure. They helped each other put up hay, harvest, and do what ever was needed. We were a tight-knit, small community that revolved around a country school.

Every community has its own culture. I enjoy learning what's held sacred, how they worship, care for one another, what works and what doesn't. Learning about our differences leads to understanding, tolerance and peace. Whatever works.

Goodnight y'all.

2012 Red Convertible Travel Series

Ready or not, 2012 is here!

2012-01-01T19:11:00.046-06:00

We came home late and got up early New Year's Day. JB went hunting. I went back to bed to sleep off drinking to much water. Yes, water. Buckshot parked in my left arm. Madchen parked in my right with big round, scheming eyes, a scowl and bent out ears. Peace was not on her mind, when she reached across and slapped him. He yelped. I jumped up, put her in the hall, him in his crate and shut the bedroom door!

This afternoon Madchen parked her ample, orange-haired personage by the hall door daring Buckshot to cross the threshold. He took one look at her pissy owl face and backed off. I suspect she's made it her New Year's resolution to get him out of the house!

It's a Southern tradition to have black-eyed peas and cornbread on New Year's, but JB asked for the beef stew I cooked the day before. That was easy.

I don't do resolutions well. My only plan is to better manage these pets. I, too, have a dream of integration. I will try to stay a step ahead of Buckshot. He can reach the kitchen table; ballpoint pens are his current chomp of choice. I'm finding detached screws and other bits of hardware around the recliner. If it falls apart, I know where to place the blame. On a personal note, I think I'll let my hair grow so I have more to pull.

I hope your New Year is off to a great start and the rest of the year is the best ever! May you receive more blessings than you know what to do with!

Love,
MJ

2012 Red Convertible Travel Series

What I want for CHRISTMAS

2011-12-25T09:00:00.005-06:00

When I was three I sat on Santa's lap, gulped and asked for, ". . . a drum." I still haven't gotten it, or the purple Harley with a sidecar I asked for fifteen years ago. (It's probably just as well.)

This is Buckshot, our new puppy. He made his bed. Didn't he do well? Everything is fair game, including height. He swiped my car keys and ID from the kitchen table. Fortunately, I retrieved them before he ate or hid them.

Madchen and Schatzie have had the run of the house and are not happy to have an intruder come to stay, dart around and make noise, even though he hugs the ground in submission and moans, 'please'. Cats are cool; they're not buying it.

Frazzled, I prayed for our animals to lie down together peaceably. Last night Buckshot leaped up on the bed and snuggled between us. Madchen jumped up beside me and Schatzie beside JB. I held my breath. There was no hissing and barking. We slept cozy all night. My prayer was answered. Thank you!

May your Christmas be Merry and full of surprises. May the New Year bless you largely.

Love,
MJ

2011 Red Convertible Travel Series

No 'Easy Bake' Christmas

2011-12-07T20:57:00.006-06:00

When the girls were small it was common for us to make nine kinds Christmas cookies to share. We baked tea rings, the braided sweet bread Houska, cranberry loaves and whatever else caught our fancy.

Here in Mississippi it rained all day Sunday. I turned the TV to Christmas music, organized ingredients and cried homesick tears for familiar surroundings, friends and family and those who have gone on.

My fist venture was to empty a bakesale jar of pre-measured dry ingredients for oatmeal raisin cookies. It made forty. The second jar was for chocolate chip cookies. The dough felt right, but the cookies flattened into one giant, flat cookie. I wonder if some flour was left out because there wasn't room in the jar. That was flop #1.

I made chocolate Biscotti from the book "Jump up and Kiss me". I like to dunk it in hot green tea in the afternoon. Cayenne gives a little burn to the tongue and is good for the metabolism.

Boiled chocolate cookies called for instant dry oatmeal and 2 cups of sugar. I cut the sugar in half and used packed brown sugar. That would have been okay, but I should have used regular oatmeal. They were a waste of good Penzy chocolate. Most all went in the trash. #2

Next came double chocolate cookies. I used Ghiradelli bittersweet chips. The idea was good, but the chips were too bitter. I packaged them for the exchange anyway. Not everyone likes super sweet cookies. Who am I kidding? #3

My friend gave me green tomatoes for green tomato bread. I doubled the recipe filling four ceramic mini-bread dishes and one regular-sized loaf pan. Inspite of greased dishes, each little loaf stuck to one side. The large loaf baked an hour and five minutes. A toothpick came out clean, but when I turned it out, the center was raw! I salvaged the outside inch and threw away the center. #4.5

I really wanted 'decent' cookies for the exchange. I really did. In my worn recipe file I found the well-loved recipe for Goomba's. I bought the German Chocolate cake mix, a jar of caramel icecream topping and a $4.38 bag of Hershey's semi-sweet chips. I even lined the baking pan with waxed paper.

The mixture was stiff when I spread half in the pan. I poured the whole jar of caramel topping over and glopped the rest of the batter on top. It baked the required time and needed more. After it cooled, I tried to cut it and couldn't. The caramel was too gooey, and the cake wouldn't hold together. I stormed out of the kitchen in 'failure' tears. Monday morning I took a spoon and made a dozen gooey balls of cake and caramel and threw the rest away. Tuesday morning I threw away the balls.#5 and #6.

What am I doing baking???????

My disasters were matched by two other local ladies. We blamed it on the excessive rain. At least we had sense enough not to attempt meringue.

And a Merry Christas to you, too! Bah humbug!

2011 Red Convertible Travel Series

High water cats

2011-11-29T20:29:00.003-06:00

Last weekend we acquired a squirrel hunting puppy, a feist/terrier mix, honey colored with beautiful brown eyes. His name is Buckshot. If I had not raised children, I would not be able to handle him. It takes a lot of human adaptation to cope with a pet. We do not train pets, they train us.

He let me know he was tired of chasing the chew bone I threw at him by burying it in the corner of the sofa. Tucked into John's arm watching Monday night football, he showed his displeasure with me when I coughed. He gave me a 'you're interrupting the game' look. I shouldn't be surprised at his intelligence and tastes. Schatzie, the tomcat, watches NASCAR races with John. It must be a guy thing.

2011 Red Convertible Travel Series

Modified Thanksgiving Dinner

2011-11-29T20:11:00.006-06:00

The pilgrims boiled theirs. We smoked ours.

Thanksgiving was a perfect weather day here in Mississippi. We put our smoked turkey breast, candied sweet potatoes, fresh cooked greens and cornbread with our neighbor's spiral-cut ham and homemade pecan pie and ate outdoors in the sunshine.

Our eating table is bowed through the center. I suspect years of holding heavy computers and too many books have permanently bent its back. Nothing rolls off. Everything rolls to the middle.

Our yard had muddy spots from five inches of rain earlier in the week. Asian ladybugs are gathering to huddle in the corners of the motorhome. I washed the dishes with water heated by running it through the coffee maker. It's life in the country.

I wanted to live in the city after growing up on a Midwestern farm with mud, mud and more mud. Well, guess what? I'm right back in mud, mud, mud. This time it is by choice. I'm enjoying country and the quirky ways we adapt. It's much more interesting.

2011 Red Convertible Travel Series

Thanksgiving 2011

2011-11-23T09:21:00.004-06:00

I am grateful for the blessings I have and the one's I don't. Chocolate is high on my list.

God Bless you all.

Love,
MJ

2011 Red Convertible Travel Series

Salmon Chowder

2011-11-19T07:16:00.004-06:00

Even the South is cooling off, thank God! Soups are my winter favorite along with roasted vegetables, lots of them.

A friend gave me the ingredient list without measurements. I'm giving you the recipe like my grandmother would have. Adjust it to fit your needs. What I made would fill six to eight cereal bowls.

Salmon Chowder
Dice 2 carrots,
2 stalks of celery,
1 onion
Saute in a small amount of EVOO

Add 1 c. white wine
1 box chicken broth I used 32 oz. low-sodium
the juice off 1 can Blue Seal label Salmon
(I picked out the loose skin and bones)
Simmer until vegetables are about half cooked

Add 1 can evaporated milk or cream (I prefer whipping cream)
1 chopped potato
Fresh or frozen sweet corn, as much as you like
Spice with thyme, bay leaf and dill
Simmer until vegetables are cooked, but not mushy

Crumble salmon in
Salt an pepper

Enjoy! We did.

2011 Red Convertible Travel Series

Hummingbird Help

2011-09-15T08:16:00.000-05:00

The sun slipped behind the Mississippi River, but the mosquitoes didn't care, they work day and night, night and day, silently selecting and stinging whatever we expose, especially my ankles and elbows. What's with the bony bites? When they do make noise, we are the targets of their mini-blitz, and they are danged accurate.

We turned the lights on in the storage shed and heard flapping. Mosquitoes don't grow that big, thank God. Between two ceiling joists, a tiny bird flew in a small circle. Small bird. Small circle. Obviously not an eagle. If it had dropped down an inch, it could have flown out.

Could you talk 'down' a hummingbird? I went up on the stepladder for a closer view of the mini-fan in action. Wikipedia states their wings flap between 12-90 flaps per second. Dizzying. Everyone who stopped became engrossed in its 'circling without exit'. I was sure it would die of exhaustion. One friend suggested sugar water. It so happens, we had a feeder on the shelf. Our friend slowly moved a bucket to set the sugar water within five feet of the bird, and assured us it would 'smell' the sugar and come for a drink. It had been circling for at least an hour, it needed a boost.

When the outside world grew dark, it settled on a fine wire facing the wall about 6" below it's circling pattern. We have never seen a hummingbird at rest. A fine wire was the perfect size for its tiny feet to circle. I expected it to fall backward, or forward, around and around, like a top heavy Christmas ornament, but it's 1" beak pointed to 1 o'clock, and it's tail pointed to 7 creating perfect balance. Nature thought of everything. Our friend quietly moved more top shelf buckets to ease the feeder closer for breakfast.

Morning came, as it has a habit of doing. We rose early to see if our guest had flown away, or fallen off its perch. We didn't find it. I checked the feeder, but really, how much water can a hummingbird drink?

We are no longer needed to offer respite for you, Little Bird. We wish you well.

2011 Red Convertible Travel Series

Labor Day 2011 Remembering is reliving.

2011-09-05T09:47:00.018-05:00

District #70 country school used Labor Day to clean up the building and grounds. Parents and kids worked beside neighbors without children, and all shared in the picnic dinner. Summer chickens were fried, potatoes scalloped, cucumbers and onions marinated in vinegar and sugar beside chocolate cakes and cherry pies. Scalloped corn was my favorite. A picnic wasn't a picnic without it.

Grandpa Williamson nailed a 16 penny nail in the center of a foot-square flat board. Working on the picnic table, he jammed the ear of fresh shucked corn on the nail and cut the corn off the cob Mom then blanched and froze. I swiped niblets to eat raw, and still love it right off the cob. Sticky corn milk ran everywhere. When she scalloped hers, she added eggs, butter, our own sour cream and cracker crumbs. Baking set it and gave it a golden finish. I wanted to hijack it, run and hide and eat the whole batch.

Pears ripened in September signaling the start of a new school year and the end to summer and fresh produce. Jani and I each took a pear and a fresh plum to school in our lunch boxes. Side note: she collected rocks in her empty lunch box on the walk home. I can smell the sweet scent of the pear's ripeness as I bit into it and the tangy, juicy flesh of the plum. Pure joy. Alive nourishment. This morning I ate a raw pear with a wedge of Brie, which wasn't a cheese of choice then. Peppermint Patty makes a great pear pie with home canned pears. I must ask for her recipe.

Grandpa was "The Help." His eyes were dark, his hair was white, but his skin was bleached, just so there is no confusion on The Help. He came all summer long to ease Mom's "put-up" load cleaning and freezing fryers for all of us and to sell, picking and canning green beans, canning cherries and picking mulberries for jams and pies with rhubarb. His and Grandma's white peaches we converted to jam and pies and ate fresh until we couldn't. He brought gallons of vinegar and bags of sugar for pickling cucumbers he picked by the bushel. Every available flat surface in the house, including the fold-down table behind the door to the upstairs, displayed jars and freezer bags of cooling produce. And he stayed through clean up. By season's end, both our cupboards and freezers were full of summer, and we had food to give as gifts.

Remembering is reliving live life. I feel the love between us fueling our work with harmony. We are laughing at cucumbers twisted, as if trying to get away from their siblings. Jani and I just used a box of cereal so we didn't have to look at each other. Grandpa, Mom and I make faces at bushels of Dad's morning-picked corn, a whole day's work or two. Both have passed from this world, but our life together continues uninterrupted; we are all alive and well. Forever.

2011 Red Convertible Travel Series

That's God!

2011-08-25T14:29:00.001-05:00

Just a simple there and back trip to pickup the motorhome was our intention. It lumbers, sways and jiggles like a lumbering elephant. Ten minutes on the road and the the powersteering belt snapped. I'm thankful I wasn't driving. It takes "man" strength to get it off the road. I'm sure it wasn't intentional, but he parked it right under a church outdoor sign: Why aren't you coming to church? What better place to park; they'll take pity on us and pray.

Sunday morning the good-natured Pastor came over. Yes, they'd pray for us. He told his congregation he knew they had been wanting to get rid of him. "My house is packed and parked right outside; here's your chance." LOL

Our friends, and I do mean friends, live an hour northwest. Their little town has a postoffice, Dollar General and several churches. I was Baptist twice on Sunday with twenty-seven members. Mr. Pipkin has a powerful, musical voice worthy of the
musical "Oklahoma."

Pastor Peter was inspiring. When you need a place to stay and it's provided, that's God. One check for our friends putting us up. When you need something to eat and it's provided, that's God. Check two. When you need an encouraging word and someone gives it, that's God. Check three. While we were waiting on God to fix the motorhome, we were seeing God's work all around us.

Not only were we welcomed at our friend's home, they gave us four half-pints of homemade jelly to bring home: blackberry; apple, strawberry fig and blueberry.
Thank you, God.

2011 Red Convertible Travel Series

Zorba the Greek Mississippi Style

2011-08-17T16:17:00.000-05:00

Anthony Quinn's character is dying. Locals hover round. Soon as he exhales his last, they strip his quarters clean.

Flood damage behind the MS Levy is extensive. Jagged waterline marks stained the cypress siding below and above windows, even on stilted homes. Uninvited flood water came and stayed. Doors hang open to ventilate. Exposed insulation hangs beneath, bedding for the taking by woods nesting creatures. Windows gape like toothless, old men exhaling stale smoke, their voices silenced: no more tall tales, lies and laughs.

Some camps have been buried, others have had no attention at all. One leans forgotten and deteriorating against trees that halted its escape. A few were permanent residents, as proved by their accumulation of yard decorations. Never has this generation seen such high water. Sawhorse height was not sufficient to save their posessions. In the aftermath, it was easier to walk away from once vibrant households than salvage. Rag pickers help themselves.

Nature restores itself. Will the homeowners do the same? Or will nature cover the remains with kudzu, and animals move in to stay?

2011 Red Convertible Travel Series

Me, a traffic stopper?

2011-08-01T16:32:00.020-05:00

An hour late
he came for me
his eyes, ears
and traffic stopper

Into the woods we slipped
over potholes and around washouts
blacktop to scrunchy gravel
past sad, sagging remains
of flooded homes and rubble

He was too long
for a driveway
Around the tractor shed
to head out loaded

Diesel idle
Unhook the trailer
Drop the tracks
Move the truck

Tall, dead cottonwood
and pecans
easily removed
by elephant-like
scoop and lift

Engine roar
Track ho track
creaked and squeaked
War sound shudder
Monster herded
onto trailer
Trunk laid
in secure slot
Chained

Hydraulics moaned
lifting trailer
I count
22 wheels
60'

Retraced our route
Levy approach washout
right lane
He waits
My job to get him
up and over

Silent prayer
My mettle tested
Do I feel anyone
coming this way
No

I ease to the top
Pull to the right
Look to the east
Empty

Down the other side
Stop approaching car
Extra-wide load coming
Pull off please
Dial my man
All's clear

He sailed over the levy
toward me 1/4 mile away
Oncoming pickup won't stop
for my waving jacket

Big rig brakes
slows over-sized load
Pulls right
Fool sees
slows some
but continues
as if privileged

Back where we started
Job complete
Thumbs up
and beep beep

His day
load and unload
Mine
one-of-a-kind

2011 Red Convertible Travel Series

My friend Kim

2011-07-29T17:34:00.003-05:00

loves to eat. Her moans confirm it. Chicken salad with chopped celery, pecans, apples, cumin and mayo elicit oohs and aahs. When I'd bake Texas sheet cake she just knew and popped in. Roasted veggies get her attention: purple cauliflower; white and green asparagus; snow peas; red, yellow and white potatoes, stop light and green peppers; white, yellow and purple onions; carrots; turnips and green beans with EVOO, sea salt and fresh rosemary. We love to eat the rainbow!

Her intuition guides her. She knows just when to call and just what to do or not do. She is knowledgeable about herbs and aromatherapy. Healing flows through her soft, warm hands blessing her massage clientele.

Over the last few years, I donated hundreds of books and magazines to our local library. One afternoon last summer, she came over all excited, "I just found this magazine about England at the library and thought of you." It was the one I just donated. Ok, it's meant to be mine.

My love of France is obvious throughout my home. This past June she gave me "Lunch in Paris, A love story with recipes" by Elizabeth Bard. She didn't say where she found it, just that it jumped off the shelf at her to give to me. I enjoyed the story and recipes and have made Pasta A La Gwendal and her Aunt Joyce's Coconut Macaroons. Tonight I'm making eggplant stuffed with couscous rather than Quinoa.

When I started the book, it seemed familiar. Two chapters in I remembered I had owned one but couldn't get into it and donated it to the library. Kim, you did it again. I'm glad to have it back. Thank you, dear magical friend.

2011 Red Convertible Travel Series

Foot bath settlers sequel

2011-07-26T07:16:00.039-05:00

At JB's suggestion I hung a green and white kitchen towel on the west end of the shelves for shade, and set a tiny, glass bowl of fresh water in the tub for Mama Wren. I wanted a picture, but they moved ever so slightly and it blurred. I'll paint a picture for your imagination.

The nest was four feet off the ground on a grey metal shelf system. Our cats, Schatzie and Madchen, watched, or rather stalked, Mama flying in with food and out with trash. Keeping the cats in the house was challenging; they are slippery when dry, too. I moved everything they could use for a step or spring. When I heard Mama chirping loudly I came outside to see if she was talking to her babies or cussing the cats. Schatzie and Madchen pretended to be unconcerned, but I knew their brains were twisting for when-can-we-have-a-go-at-them? In nature's food chain, birds are free cat food. St. Frances of Assisi, the Patron Saint of animals to the rescue. Protect the birds from the house cats and all other predators. Please and thank you.

The cats were stressing Mama Wren. I couldn't decide if I should move the nest to a higher shelf or not? If she abandoned them, they would starve to death. I put my concern in God's hands and peeked in. Settled on her silent clutch she turned and looked at me but made no effort to leave. In my softest mothering voice I said, "I want to help you to a higher shelf." She kept her eyes on me and didn't fly away. Okay, here goes. Ever so gently I slid the tub off and set it on the top shelf. She stayed on the nest. Thank you One and all.

Not tall enough to see in from the ground, I stood on side-by-side gallon paint cans. The nest was disheveled. Oh no. She must be furious with me. Was I over-mothering? And the chicks aren't moving. Fervent prayers and pleas for them and my forgiveness did not ease my heart or mind.

July 20th three chicks were out of the nest scattered around the tub, as if they'd been tossed. Pitiful. A feather here and there they looked moth eaten. One was stuck under a long-handled spoon. The second was upside down in the corner. The third looked half-dead lying on its side. The question wasn't could they fly, could they live? Mothering. Decisions. Without touching them or the nest, I removed the spoon and water bowl that wasn't an immediate threat, but if they lived, they might stumble in and drown.

We didn't see the mother for two days. I was sick. When I could no longer stand not knowing, I mustered the courage to look in and found the nest even more of a mess. What is she doing? Through my tears I prayed, God, pleeeeaaassssse let them live.

Friday, the 22nd, Mama perched on the rim chirping loudly and with great urgency. Saturday afternoon, I saw a chick on the rim. It lifted off and glided to the back yard crash landing and chirping I did it! First flight. No manual. Wing flapping next lesson. The second chick hopped to the rim, saw me and jumped off crashing nearby and chirping, What did I do wrong? The third paniced and did a suicide jump to the concrete. It skittered away on wobbly feet chirping. I can't see you guys. Now what do I do?

We kept the cats in the house two more days. None of the wrens returned. The nest that had been larger than an ostrich egg with a bay window to the inside of the tub was permanently evacuated. Mama had ripped it apart when her chicks were two weeks old. They had no choice but to go forward.

Today I took the tub down and dumped out the tattered, mess of a nest. The tub is scrubbed and back on the top shelf empty. Thank you God and St. Frances.

2011 Red Convertible Travel Series

Foot bath settlers

2011-07-12T06:57:00.004-05:00

I live in the land of pretty feet. When I went outside to get my foot bath tub, it wasn't empty as I had expected. I removed a box of kitchen tools from a garage sale. The leaves I suspected had blown in, until I looked closer. Four tiny, yellow beaks pointed skyward with 1/4" mouths open: new life on the block!

At six this morning I peaked at our new family. Mama was home. She isn't very big, and she moved so fast I didn't get a good look at her. She needn't worry, we will not disturb her nest; I'll find something else to soak my feet in.

2011 Red Convertible Travel Series

Lexi, crawfish lover

2011-07-11T09:35:00.004-05:00

We went to the country Friday night for a double birthday party. Friends gathered round to help Kari and Sarah celebrate with a crawfish feed and a three-tied birthday cake.

Crawfish are currently plentiful. Some people are catching them with fishing poles and fat meat for bait. The crawfish table was long as a door and about 4' wide with two large holes cut in it. A garbage can sat beneath each hole for discarded shells and corncobs.

Over the 4th I prepped veggies for a Louisiana Coon Ass preparing Crawfish Etouffe. A great learning experience and awesome result. I'm a crawfish convert, but my appetite can't compare to Lexi's. She bellies up to the table, puts her paws on top, and digs in eating shells and all. She can because she's the family watch dog, a Rottweiler.

2011 Red Convertible Travel Series

HAPPY 4TH OF JULY 2011!!!!!

2011-07-01T16:08:00.004-05:00

I hope you celebrate our FREEDOM happy and safe!

A Lula kind of morning.

2011-07-01T08:39:00.021-05:00

Before six: found purring Madchen perched atop my closed computer. Again. Check new Yahoo. It still won't let me forward, reply or compose. Cuss cat and computer.

My eyes at half-mast. Stumble to the kitchen. Let Schatzie in. Loud meows for soft food. "Eat your dry food. Clean your teeth so they don't fall out!" Rebuttal meows. Give him tuna.

JB on the couch with a cigarette. Morning news: large company refuses to hire anyone who smokes. Yeah! That doesn't work here. Make him coffee.

Lula says donuts and a bucket of chicken are one remedy for stress. I need a donut. I need several.

Clean up body and attitude. Smear face with Origins Active Charcoal Mask to clear pores. Lie down. Compose self. Go deep. Find my center.

A comfortable 73 degrees. Swerve to miss street lump. A lost pillow. Dewy, semi-tropical Southern morning. Mosquitoes not stirring. Yet. Sun dappling here and there. No need to move fast. Grateful we aren't flooded and it isn't snowing.

Stop at Donut Shop on #61. A raspberry filled for JB and a chcolate filled for me with a short Cappuccino. Dry cleaners next. Church's Chicken closed. Good. I didn't want any anyhow. Lula can have my share.

Retrace route. Spot large garden near downtown with tall tomatoes. How? It's shaded. Temperature rose three degrees. To be in high nineties with Ozone warning. Happy July first!

Take my donut and drink to my French Corner. Nibble and sip. Open plantation blinds a sliver. Filtered sunlight decorates and dances on the table. Sidewalk on the outside reminiscent of Parisian sidewalk cafe. Except here I can set my purse down and not worry someone will motor by and snatch it. Ah, hear that? Accordion music. A Citron horn. Get out of my way, it says. A cafe patron just thanked the waiter,
"Merci!"

Memory takes me for a stroll along the Seine careful of where I walk, dog-walkers, you know. I love to study the artists and their work, French Berets and all. I ride the subway for its wall art, and I don't mean graffiti.

On the Champs-Elysees I poke my head into a fragrance shop. Ah, a hint of rose in exotic combinations. I stick my wrist out and ask the clerk for more of the same. She replies, "Chanel No. 9, of course."

Aaah, 8 am CST. Time to go to work, without jet lag. Write complete sentences.

Lula, you made my day. Stephanie, I can't make up my mind whether it should be you and Morelli, or you and Ranger. "Smokin' Seventeen" is a hoot. Janet Evonavich, you did it again. Give us more. More!

2011 Red Convertible Travel Series

Under the chestnut tree

2011-06-01T13:28:00.002-05:00

Mother's Day came and went, but I didn't forget you, Mom. One of my favorite memories of you is in the belted, red nylon dress you sewed for yourself. It rustled when you moved. You were WOW!!! Movie star gorgeous. And you were ours.

Dressed down in cotton, you taught us Gardening 101. Remember how Jani screwed the onion sets into the freshly turned earth? They grew better than ours, didn't they. Thank goodness Grandpa came and helped pick and cut corn and can pears. He was great to have around for a broken leg, too; "Just don't tell Daddy I won't be home for a few days."

I can hear you pounding out the Twelve Street Rag with runt pig, Petey, grunting along. Another time we sat by the radio trying to figure out which of the twin pianos you were playing. Seamless! Beautiful! Are you playing for heavenly choirs now?

You reached out to others rather than wait for them to come to you. "Be a friend to have one." you explained. Going the extra mile wasn't enough, you went several when you taught school to special needs students. Patience. You have more than the average. I say "have" knowing you still do.

We loved when you read to us, especially on the blanket under our front yard chestnut tree. Jani and I had you all to ourselves and looked forward to the latest Kitchen Klatter story. Nibbling quarter jam sandwiches and sipping kool-aid we learned about Abner, the bull snake, that lived in the strawberry patch. The farmer was glad because Abner kept the thieving rats away. Since we had an oats bin, Jani and I decided snakes were our friends.

We hunted high and low for our "Abner." Calling didn't bring him, either. Walking home from school the next spring we saw a wavy snake track across the gravel road. We ran home. Out of breath, we jumped up and down talking all over each other to tell you, "Abner's here!"

For several years "Abner" tracks were seen on the road in about the same place. Our protection ended the day he didn't make it across. Truck tracks got him. We mourned our good friend.

Just so you know, Mother, we don't go looking for snakes, but we aren't afraid of them thanks to you under the chestnut tree. Could you find out if he's there?

Love you,

2011 Red Convertible Travel Series

MEMORIAL WEEKEND 2011

2011-05-30T12:56:00.010-05:00

With appreciation and gratitude we remember those who fought and still fight for freedom, ours and others.

Dense, sky-reaching trees surround a thirty acre clearing in the Hills that could have been the setting for a pow-wow, Civil War battle, or Mississippi mule race.

In the shade of the truck we unpacked our lawn chairs and coolers. JB looked around for someone to talk to; imagine that! It wasn't long before he returned with a new friend. "Have some craw fish," he offered from the bushel he'd won in a coin toss the night before. The guy was thrilled. So was JB. The guy offered him a new place to hunt.

5 pm, race time at Grenada County Dirt Track, Gore Springs. Engines roared or chattered. A few drivers red lighted, took off too soon. Once was forgiven; two cost the driver the race.

There's chatter on the sidelines, too. Whose truck is the baddest? Who can run he three-hundred feet the fastest? Roughly four and a half seconds of roar, zoom and dust separated the men from the boys. The pink modified truck "Here Kitty Kitty" ran like a scalded car. Near midnight the winner by elimination was the black Chevy Luv, "Tasmanian Devil". But our night wasn't over. We had a long drive and two road blocks to clear.

I'm the DD, Designated Driver, and forever grateful I burned myself on booze the first time I imbibed what I thought was punch. Tasteless vodka was the culprit. Two days of recovery convinced me to not adopt the habit. We cleared a hill and there they were thick as lice: racing lights blazing and bright flashlights zeroed on faces and documents. I handed over my MS license and proof of insurance. One look and I was cleared. Did I look honest and sober, or was it my age?????

We hope you had a great weekend. Take care and God Bless!

2011 Red Convertible Travel Series

Backyard love

2011-05-01T13:20:00.008-05:00

There's been a lot of "cluck and strut" in the backyard but not a lot of action, if you know what I mean. The old-timer needs to retire. A banty legged, dark fellow with luminescent tail feathers was imported from the hills.

New Man strutted around Old White Man. New muscle met old, feathers flew and longer spurs were winning.

Coup keeper nabbed Old White Man and shoved him into an outside cage where he flew out the other end that wasn't hooked. New Man and two hens saw freedom and ran for it. Pandemonium!

The rest of the story: Not a wham bam kind of guy, New Man worked at warming their hearts. He saw opportunity in a watermelon rind. Plucking bits out of it he left them lay for the hens. They perked up, evidently not used to a smooth hand. Easing to the bits, they sampled. Yum! He softly clucked. They cooed and circled closer. Within reach he carefully snipped bits of watermelon and put it in their mouths. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh.

I'll let you know when the chicks hatch.

2011 Red Convertible Travel Series

EASTER 2011

2011-04-24T14:28:00.008-05:00

The past few weeks my internet, computer and camera have been on the blink. Maybe it was Mercury Retrograde, maybe not. To see the pics with this story, go to my Facebook page: Maeann Jasa.

When the Methodists organized a church at Friars Point, MS in 1836 they had hopes of esatablishing an anchor for their community. Twice the church has been destroyed, once by Union troops during the Civil War and later by a tornado. At the 9 am service Pastor was quick to point out his own faults and remind us that Christ paid the price for us, our job is to believe and live/be like Him.

The Easter bunny had hidden bucketfuls of brilliantly colored eggs for little people to find. While they hunted, I snapped pics for you that are on facebook. In the block south of the church stands The 1850's MINIE BALL HOUSE that bears the mark of Union Navy shelling and was briefly the headquarts of Union General Napoleon Bonaparte. This was before the Levy separated the town from the MS River.

Speaking of the River, it's rising. The National Weather Service River Forecast Center publishes the River stages online. The Mississippi River is expected to crest at Helena, AR May 10th at 49.5' above flood stage. The Levy is about 70' high. Thank God for engineering, or we'd all need houseboats!

Muddy Waters, King of Chicago blues, lived his first 30 years on the Stoval Plantation. The family log house was moved to downtown Clarksdale for exhibit. The placque marks where it stood. Shut your eyes, feel his "blues", smell the greens cooking, hear the cotton wagon mules bray and wipe your sweaty brow.

In the midst of MS's history, this tree caught my eye. If you know what it is and what it's growing, please explain. Imagination can have a field day.

The last picture is of a Quapaw Indian Mound in the Indian Mound subdivision on Farrel Road.

Back home we turned on the hall ceiling fan that sounds like a jet engine and feels like it will suck the paint off the walls. But, the heavy air is moving. Peas, greens and cornbread for lunch.

Oh, no, muddy Madchen slipped in. OUT!!!!!

2011 Red Convertible Travel Series

How do I hold it still?

2011-04-07T05:19:00.002-05:00

Our house faces east overlooking the start of the Sunflower River with lots of wet-feet friends and family, Cypress knees. It's a pleasant view in the daylight but is wide-open naked to the world at night. Plantation blinds are near the windows, just not up doing their job, yet. We need 36 hr. days.

There's something primitive and homey about working with pins and needles. I remember Grandmother Williamson attempting to thread a needle when Parksinson's insisted otherwise. She managed to quilt into her late 70's. For graduation she made me a yellow and lavender quilt I display on a stand Papa made. Twice the memories.

When knit fabric became available in the 60's, our folks bought bolt ends that arrived in refrigerator boxes, usually three at a time. Heaven in a box! I sewed matching daisy bathing suits for my girls and myself and most everything else we wore. Dad got into it, too, sewing for Mother while she taught school. Krysia said for a new outfit she'd go anywhere with me.

It feels good to do two things at once. Venison stew and veggies slow cook in the crockpot. Savory scents slip out to tease. My Brother sewing machine is parked on the end of the kitchen table west of where I stuck a strip of masking tape across the table to mark fabric length. It was securing the creamy, filmy fabric for cutting that concerned me.

Use what's handy: a rubber-bottomed quart thermos; a quart jar of dried great northern beans; a pint jar of fig jam; a 15' metal tape measure; a bottle of Makers Mark Whiskey; my rubber-backed cell phone and a ten pound bag of red potatoes! Yes!!!!!!

Measure twice, cut once. I giggled and sewed. It's the perfect finish to the front door. And it looks soooo French.

I can still do it!

2011 Red Convertible Travel Series

Butterfingers for God

2011-04-04T17:55:00.003-05:00

Not brave enough to have a doctor pierce my ears years ago, I did the "sleeper" method. Hurt like everything. My right lobe is pierced at an angle and eventually the doctor had to pierce my left. As a result, my right earrings don't hang straight, amateur work.

I thought I had fastened my good gold earring in my right lobe, but apparently I didn't. No amount of searching produced it. Naked lobes are a kin to no mascara. Blah. Blah.

About a week later I happened upon a gift shop. More interested in making a friend than shopping, Nan and I talked about books and authors. Romance Hall of Famer, Dorothy Garlock, is a favorite of mine. I met her the Fourth of July 2003. Sitting on her porch she told of caring for a relative's Great Dane that was afraid of storms. It had run through the screen door and tried to get all 90 of its pounds on her lap.

I mentioned I was looking for small earrings but didn't see any on the display I liked. She reached under the counter and pulled out a pair of gold, ridged earrings that made me think of short spaghetti. "Do you like these?"
I tried them on, "Perfect!"
Nan smiled and said, "I'm giving them to you."
My eyes popped. "Wow! Thank you!"
She grinned, "Butterfingers for God!"

2011 Red Convertible Travel Series

On a cloud dessert

2011-03-21T14:13:00.010-05:00

Fresh meringue was placed on an upside down oven-proof bowl and slow baked. Picture the dried meringue, minus the bowl, inverted on a footed, clear glass, cake plate filled with whipped heavy cream. Fresh raspberries and short slices of rhubarb poached in kirsch were scattered over the cream and lightly dusted with powdered sugar. Breath-taking beauty! Use a pie server to break it up and eat immediately. I wish. The name of the magazine it was torn from isn't on the page with the picture, nor is the recipe. But I think I could duplicate it.

I have an oven-proof bowl. The beaters are in the drawer, but where is the mixer to propel them. Must be in storage. Rhubarb isn't in season, yet, and I don't have kirsch. I'll just feast my eyes.

If you have a recipe for this Pavlova, please speak up.

2011 Red Convertible Travel Series

Needing a vinegar road trip.

2011-03-15T13:19:00.008-05:00

On the worn yellow bookshelf across the room, a happy photo of Jani and I at a wedding reception snuggles in a worded frame: Sister you are close to my heart so many dreams we've shared all the laughter and love . . . We need more of those moments.

The International Vinegar Festival at Roslyn, South Dakota would be a fun road trip. We looked up the Vinegar Man and found many varieties and some recipes. Did you know there is Blood Orange Vinegar? Spicy Pecan has a recipe for Vinegar Cookies. Maple Vinegar flavors buffalo wings. Vinegar Paradiso has coconut, mango and vanilla flavorings. Texas Blue Cheese Slaw is made with Pomegranate Vinegar. They sound so good, I want at least one of each. SD here we come!

2011 Red Convertible Travel Series

Grandpa loved trains, but . . .

2011-02-18T14:11:00.000-06:00

When Jani and I were little we saw Grandpa Williamson take out his eye and wash it. Fascinated, we tried several times to take ours out. Exasperated, Jani asked, "How come you can do that and we can't?"
"I'm special," he said with a twinkle in his good eye.
"It is the same brown as your other eye," I added thoughtfully.
"They were all out of green."
I asked, "Where did you get it?"
"In the candy barrel at the hardware store."
"Can we get one?" Jani asked.
"They're only available on the 5th Tuesday of every third month."
We didn't know how to read a calendar.

Disgusted, we turned to Grandma. Tugging on her sleeve, Jani asked, "How did Grandpa get that eye he takes out?"
Grandma laid down her needle and thread, took a deep breath and added a frown for emphasis. "Well, it was like this. Grandpa loved trains. Loved them, you hear? Always wanted to work on them. I was afraid a cinder would fly up and take out his eye. I fussed and nagged until he gave up his dream."
"What's a dream?" Jani asked.
"What somebody really, really wants to do."
Jani gasped, "Like ride a bicycle?"
Grandma nodded.
I was horrified. "You mean if you thought I would lose an eye being a doctor, you wouldn't let me?"
Grandma shifted uneasily, "Sort of like that."
I stomped my foot. It wasn't worth it to grow up! Arms crossed I was determined to live my dream. If I couldn't be a doctor, I'd never have indoor plumbing.

Grandma continued, "Grandpa took up farming and quit talking about working on the railroad. I was so glad. Then one day he was out making fence; I heard a scream."
Jani and I started to cry; we loved our Grandpa, cheerleader, rescuer.
Tears rolled down Grandma's cheeks, too. "I ran to him fast as I could. His face was all bloody. And there was nothing where his eye should be. Horrible. Just horrible. He said he was hammering a steeple into a fencepost when the durn thing flipped back and hit his eye. "It was my fault. If I'd just let him work on the railroad, this wouldn't have happened."

That didn't feel right. "Grandma, maybe he was going to lose the eye one way or the other, train or steeple didn't matter."
She looked up pondering the possibility, "Maybe I saw that it would happen, but I didn't know how or where."
Hugging, soothing her, Jani and I agreed.

Hoping for a happy ending, Jani asked, "Does Grandpa still love trains?"
Grandma smiled, "He does. You know that track in the basement you play on; it's his way of working on the railroad. He gets to live his dream a different way.

2011 Red Convertible Travel Series

The fork and the urn

2011-02-02T15:05:00.015-06:00

Breakfast for two:
one fork
spoon eggs
whole-grain bread mop
or
wait for the fork

An empty concrete cemetery urn sits beside the front door of the house we are moving to. I am excited to plant red geraniums in it and basil, rosemary, tarragon and tomatoes in the brick planter. Peering inside the urn I found it wasn't empty. A fork stands in a snag of dead leaves. It seemed a bit odd, until I recognized the pattern.

When Leonard and I married in 1974, my parents gave us a set of Oneida flatware in the Leonard pattern; the fork matches.

Leonard passed on thirteen and a half years ago. I believed he would watch out for me as long as I live. Nice to know he's on the job.:)

2011 Red Convertible Travel Series

My shopping list

2011-01-22T15:45:00.011-06:00

I gave a precise grocery list to someone, I'll not mention whom: cat litter crystals; a specific brand of cat food in a green bag and free range eggs.

They came back with clay cat litter I don't use because it sticks between their toes and tracks big white pieces everywhere. The crystals are finer and less noticeable, except under bare feet.

The cat food was in a green bag (1 point) under a label I don't buy (minus 1). I dished up a little for Schatzie and Madchen, and they just stared at it. They wouldn't touch it. I swear I could see them thinking, You want us to eat this *&^^%? I was not forgiven until I brought home Hills Science Diet.

The requested free-range eggs were not. The carton was marked "natural." Natural? What are unnatural eggs? Square?

Memo to self: do my own shopping.

2011 Red Convertible Travel Series

Me and my shadow ready to roll!

2011-01-22T14:22:00.006-06:00

My itchy foot steps on the rail at the Batesville City Center. Where does it go? Where does it come from? Now and then I hear the whistle. Does it take passengers?

When we were kids, we took our peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to the depot in Wahoo and boarded the train for our May school outing. The "Cookie-Pusher" earned its name poking along slow enough for us to explore the countryside. The engine puffed thick black smoke past our window and in it. Stinky. Imaginations ran high. We were Tom and Huck exploring Nebraska by rail. Forget the raft, our water is underground. We had a secret view of the world gravel road travelers didn't. And we had all day to make the trip.

I jumped. "Did you see that?" A lone rabbit zipped along side momentarily.
Sister stretched her neck. "Where?" It was gone.
Mother pointed out, "That's a plum bush." The air smelled flowery. "Jam in the fall," she reminded with a glint in her eye.
Jani leaned over excited, "What bird is that? The one with the yellow?"
Mom stretched to see, "A Meadowlark. Nebraska's state bird."
I pointed out, "There are wild wild violets same as those we picked for our May baskets."
"Girls," Mom called. "There's an elderberry plant. Remember the jelly?"
We nooded remembering how much we loved it. The plant's spread head was green with the beginnings of tiny bursts of flowers. It had all summer to produce berries. We'd wait. Mom's warm-from-the-oven bread, fresh butter and jelly would make our day.

Mom said, "There will always be something new to see and somebody new to visit with."
Really? Jani and I were pretty sure the world ended at the Kansas line. We didn't know anyone beyond it. But the travel bug was tickling us looking for a place to burrow in.
"Where can we go next?" Jani asked.
Mom sighed and smiled wistfully. Living on the farm, our lives were owned by the livestock, crops and weather with a very small window of opportunity in August. Only twice in our childhood did everything workout so we could leave home for a few days. We'd all make up for it in the years to come.

Wahoo is slightly hilly. The approach to the Czech community of Prague is hilly with deep ravines. The train screeched to a stop scrunching cars together. We scrambled to get out and look around.

One wide main street with businesses on either side was it. The restaurant/bar advertised kolaches, roast pork, sauerkraut and dumplings on Sunday. Wow! People eat out on Sunday. "It's Grandpa and Grandma's for us," Jani piped up, "Is that eating out?"

We were running off energy when the round, black-hatted conductor called, "All aboard."
Mom whispered, "Take seats on the other side." We dashed on ahead.
Something didn't feel right. I stated, "There's no place to turn around."
Mom smiled, "You're right. The train has to backup."
"We're going backwards to Wahoo?" Jani puzzled with a frown.
A couple of hours later we were back in Wahoo happy and sleepy from the rock and rhythm of seeing where we'd been. It was a very good day.

At one time three major railroads crossed in Wahoo. No more. Tracks both directions from our local Museum were taken up stranding a lone, yellow caboose. Makes me sad. It would rather be riding the rails, me too. The first weekend in December, Wahoo celebrates Christmas on the Prairie. The Museum, machine shed, an old log house, church, school, mini-post office, the caboose and station are open for touring. Cookies, punch and coffee are served in the Museum. The caboose is cold. When I hosted it, I looked the part in my borrowed full-length fur coat and hat. Traipsing home in the snow was enough to remind me I was glad to live in today.

When my girls were little, they were not allowed to ride the Cookie Pusher, some new rule. We did the next best thing: climb on the ends of the caboose and pretend we were traveling across the praire to the ocean. Mike and Jenna and I walked the track bed, picked up trash, and worked our imaginations on the caboose. Ryker and Aja and I walked the rail-less track bed so they could climb up the loose dirt sides and slide down. Caboose imaginings followed.

I long for a train ride. Have toothbrush will travel.

2011 Red Convertible Travel Series

Batesville, Mississippi

2011-01-14T10:22:00.005-06:00

The Chickasaw name for cotton was Panola, the name given to the port established on the south side of the Little Tallahatchie River in 1839. River commerce was limited to three to six months a year shipping commodities, mostly cotton. During the Civil War they had a gun foundry that employed "one people."

It was the summer of 1967 when I first heard the word Tallahatchie. I stopped working and listened to Bobbie Gentry sing "Ode to billy joe" in her haunting, gravely, alto voice smooth and rhythmic as a slow moving river. I felt the heat and humidity, sorrow and hopelessness. Did it really happen, or is it just a song?
Conjuring a picture of billy joe about to jump, I asked JB where the Tallahatchie bridge is. "On the Tallahatchie River."

Per the Chamber of Commerce, the name Panola was changed to Batesville in honor of Mr. Jim Bates, a conductor on the MS & TN Railroad and prominent Methodist Minister. In 1866 the town received it's charter. The well-maintained tracks and bed are still operational under another name.

Today shopping malls and businesses line Hwy 6 running east and west and 51 north and south. I55 cuts across 6. The city center has more empty store fronts than occupied, but it is still worth the look: great crafts, gifts and clothing, a pharmacy, jewelry store, hardware store and restaurant to name a few. A couple of blocks off the square is Court Street Catering. We had a lovely lunch on linen table clothes with Kenny G in the background; a pork chop and scalloped potatoes to die for, lima beans and lemon cake for dessert.

I'm looking forward to a trip to the cemetery to study old stones, soon as the snow melts.

2011 Red Convertible Travel Series

New Moon pull it to me!

2011-01-04T15:39:00.006-06:00

In the Mary Kay business consultants are encouraged to put up a dream board with pictures and imagine driving the car,living in the house etc. My sponsor is Teresa, AKA as Glitz she is so charming and beautiful. Cadillacs are earned rewards. She put a picture of a Cadillac CTS on her frig and forgot about it.

She didn't work the plan or even set a goal. Her 'food nose' takes her from city to city following her husband's work. When she tells me what she ate or cooked, there is passion in her voice. Food is more than satisfying hunger, its a sensuous experience. I look forward to making her grandmother's chicken pot pie recipe with fresh sage in the crust.

Glitz's parents have been married 60 years. When she came home, her Dad asked her to come outside. She grew panicked and nervous. "What's wrong?" He just kept walking to the garage and opened the door.
"WOW. You bought yourselves a Cadillac CTS. Good for you!" She exclaimed.
"It's for you," her mother replied.
Glitz was speechless. She tells me, "It's red, cherry red, a trollop car." I love her laugh. I can just see her in it. She will turn heads twice: once for her beauty and once for the car. We have so much fun together and gobs to visit about, if we went on a road trip, or a trip to the store, there's no telling when we'd get home.

Glitz's dream board put the "intention" on the wind. The Universe did the rest. A lesson to unlimit our possibilities. Today is 1/4, the New Moon. Put your intentions out and let the gravitational pull of the moon bring them to you. Be aware that your negative thoughts will bring a harvest also. We can manifest our needs. Go get'em!

2011 Red Convertible Travel Series

Who's calling?

2010-12-29T20:19:00.011-06:00

We are a four phone family. JB has a bs. and a personal phone. I have a cell phone, and our cable bundle gives us a house phone.

When I was in NE my phone made a cascading tinkle sound every little bit? Even Ryker said it was driving him crazy. It does so much I need a pilot's license to operate it, and I am not even close to mastery. When I scroll the touch tone address book, I frequently set into motion an unintentional call and hang up fast. They ring back, "You called." Well, not really. It was my hot finger. Now when I do call they don't answer.

It's an Android. Outer spaceish. Large and alerting every time I get an email. It doesn't fit in my pocket. I was home alone when I misplaced it. JB and I call each other when our cell phone hides. I'd forgotten we have a house phone. It rarely rings. I dialed my phone. A faint ring. I tried again and stood in the 2nd bedroom. Not here. Try again. I opened the hall closet and there it was on a stack of towels.

After supper I was studying my call log when I noticed several calls from the same number. Oh, no, I missed them. Who? JB said, "Call them back."
Just as I dialed the house phone rang. I waved for JB to answer it.
Why am I talking to him?

I am so looking forward to telepathic messaging!

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

Our Mississippi Christmas

2010-12-24T17:16:00.000-06:00

For many years I had a pencil tree I left up all year. It was a night light and inspiration on gloomy days. The kids decorated it with hearts cut out of colored paper and wrote love messages.

Christmas tree hunting is JB's family tradition. He stressed, "We will not go across the state line." (Sounds like a childhood promise.) That leaves Alabama out and a lot of the Mississippi Hill country in.

I jumped in the truck with Ben. JB pulled a long face and got in his truck. I didn't think to explain that I grew up with livestock, and two people were needed to get in and out of pens. Hogs were a nuisance. They wanted corn and out. We had our hands full getting them back in.

Bump. Bump. Bounce to the pasture gate. Ben slid out to unhook the chain and three saddle horses raced to him. He hollered and made hand motions to back them away. Thank goodness they did because I don't know how to retrieve free range horses.

There wasn't time to get out of the passenger seat and walk around the truck. I did an acrobatic stretch across the console, slid behind the wheel and drove in. Both vehicles safely inside, Ben closed the gate and hooked the chain. One of the black horses had the saddle blanket impression on its back from a recent rider. All three
loped beside us. Social creatures, they might have thought we had apples or we were simply their entertainment.

Small Cedar trees were the object of our search. The can grow tall, but their wispy branches are similar to asparagus gone to seed. Sturdy, fragrant closet-wood trees grow in Nebraska.

It took most of the chilly afternoon to find a nicely shaped tree for each of us. We left the banner trees without branches on their back. Thanks to power saws, the guys quickly sliced off our choices. We finished the day with homemade chicken and dumplings.

200 lights make our after dark tree photograph as a splotch of stars. Miniature wooden angels and snowmen from Germany and Austria, crocheted hearts tied with red ribbons and starched hardanger angels make our tree Merry. The tree top is too fragile for an ornament. I imagined folding aluminum foil and cutting out two angels I would tape together on the inside, but I didn't get it done. Imagine it.

MS is a new life for me;, Christmas a new tradition for us.

Merry Christmas to you all and to all a good night.
God Bless.

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

Tales of Turkey Tails

2010-12-07T15:59:00.016-06:00

JB is right proud of its 27" spread and 11" beard. He says the tom was about four years old. When we colored turkey tails in country school, we used bright colors. Brown would have been boring, but whoever instigated colors must have had a parrot.

I don't hunt. I can't with my fingers in my ears, and I'm not that fond of potted meat and vienna sausage. They did take a kettle of my homemade venison chili with last week and brought it back empty. Dare I assume they ate it?

I asked JB, "What's the difference between deer and turkey hunting?"
He rolled his eyes and looked exasperated, "Well, they're just different."
"Uh huh. Could you be specific; I'm trying to write about it."
"We hunt deer from a stand and turkey from a ground blind with a turkey caller."
Now I remember his son is a super turkey caller.
"Thanks." I know that's all I'm going to get.

After several days in the woods without a bath, one of the guys told JB the scent block on his clothes wasn't working. Imagine that. I believe playing in the woods is primarily to avoid a bath, see how muddy they and their vehicle can get, whose vehicle can go the furthest before getting stuck, contesting who is the best shot, maybe getting game and who can tell the tallest tales. They say they are having a ball. I am officially a Mississippi woman: weekends to myself.

One of our friends was an avid turkey hunter. Proud of his trophy wall mount, he was stunned to find the tail tips missing. This is sacred territory. DO NOT TOUCH! Well, one of his kids needed something for nature day, snipped them off and sewed them on her shirt.

There's something about men and game. LBJ asked to have his picture taken beside a 6' Marlin when we were in Mexico. He showed it at home and everyone assumed he'd caught it. In the same manner, JB could claim the turkey tail, but he admits he found it in on the curb and rescued it from a divorce or vicious house cleaner.

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

What is it? What was it?

2010-12-07T13:11:00.018-06:00

It graces our apartment living room wall, but it looks nothing like the deer we dropped off at the processor. JB and Brett are proud of it. A European skull mount is what it's called. In Western movies I've seen bleached long-horn skulls, but these are antlers, and it doesn't seem right.

JB is rebuilding his trophy collection. All of his mounts perished when his camp burnt. Since this picture, the east wall has gained a six-pointer. Hunting season lasts until sometime in January. What's next?

To the right hangs my acrylic work of the Nebraska Sandhlls. I can visualize a herd of white-faced cattle and the occasional skull. The prairie smells of sage. Harrison, NE used to sell the "world's largest hamburger" big as a dinner plate. I could never get away with more than a bite or two of someone else's, but I did taste sage. It was what it ate.

The only sign of human life in my work is the windmill, cow fan to city folk. Without trees to dot the landscape, sky is all there is. Big city dwellers were unacustomed to seeing for miles, their vision was limited to tall buildings and masses of visual stimulation.

I didn't care for the Sandhills at first visit. They seemed lonesome,empty. People get lost and never found. Neighbors are fifteen or more miles apart.

NE has the largest area of Sandhills in this Hemisphere, and it's a fragile ecosystem. A couple of inches of black soil rests atop the sand providing just enough grip for grass to root. During dry spells cattle pull the grass out exposing the sand and nothing will grow back.

Our ghostly wall rider makes me laugh and reminds me of happy trips to Western Nebraska. I could string Christmas lights on it. Maybe I'll drape it in black for Halloween, or just use it for a hat rack. On second thought, I'd better leave it alone and laugh to myself.

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

In the Hills of Mississippi

2010-12-02T19:00:00.007-06:00

Bucolic. Where I would want to live, if it wasn't so far from town. Peaceful.
We came at it from the backside on our "adventure Sunday." The horses weren't the least bit concerned. The gate concerned us until we learned entering was restricted, not exiting.

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

A Southern Living Thanksgiving

2010-12-02T16:15:00.002-06:00

Uncle Ben lives Southern Hospitality. No matter when we stop we're asked if we're hungry. His daughter, Patty, always has something cooking. Last weekend she lifted the lid on her lima beans with ham hocks. Yum! And not greasy. She mixed and baked a huge skillet of cornbread and fried green tomatoes. We didn't come to eat, but it smelled so good we did. Wonderful!

The Barrett Clan gathered the Sunday before Thanksgiving over more food than I have ever seen and more family than I could imagine. The ages ranged from one month to seventy-two years.

An eight-foot table was covered with three rows of casseroles and juicy, deep-fried turkey, spiral-cut ham, cornbread dressing and oyster dressing to name a few. Patty made Rachael Ray's potato lasagne: partially cooked potatoes sliced and layered on the bottom covered with a layer of chopped artichoke hearts, ricotta cheese, parmesan and chopped fresh spinach covered with a cooked white sauce. Repeat. Repeat. The guys loved it, too.

Good old green bean casserole graced the center of the table surrounded by a sweet potato casserole with marshmallows and raisins and two with lots of nuts, corn casserole and yellow squash casserole. I don't remember all of them. No failures, I assure you. And there was a crockpot of turnip greens.

Felix's wife bottle fed their six-month old grandson. Jason and Shannon juggled their pre-school son, Joe, twin daughters and infant son. I remember feeling like a jungle gym to my two young daughters. And there's no rushing to the store with babies in tow.

It was a pleasant afternoon of family and friends celebrating their roots in peaceful co-existence. The counter was lined with salads: ambrosia; cranberry fluff; cranberry relish; watergate and more. Among the desserts were homemade pecan pie; apple pie; Abbie's chocolate frosted cupcakes; and a banana pudding made with peanut shaped cookies rather than vanilla wafers. Some Southern cooks use Eagle Brand in their banana pudding. What's not to like about that?

I cut the pecan pie in little slices without knowing it was Uncle Ben's personal stash from Beverly. I apologized. I'll know to hide it next time.

Paper platters were heaped, mine included. Those who ate on the screened-in porch were entertained by a litter of kittens scampering and tumbling. Born in the house, they spent their early days comfy in Ben's bathroom closet. I found them on the floor nosed into a corner under the counter like geese following the leader.

Oh, there's another baby boy. Felix has twin six-month old grandsons. Life is going on double time.

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

Lost in Mississippi

2010-12-02T11:11:00.000-06:00

I'd gone to Warren's to get JB and make arrangements for AAA to pick up his truck. Sat. night a spring popped out of the door, and it wouldn't shut. In the daylight, it was a simple solution. A beautiful fall ahead of us, Warren looked around, "We're going on an adventure."

Adventure water and a bag of turkey and cheese sandwiches in tow, we piled into his open Jeep bumped and swayed about the Hills, over dusty, scrunchy gravel roads and lumpy cotton fields African Safari-ish with the radio wide open. No creeping up on wildlife, people either. We didn't see either.

There was a little grit on those sandwiches, good for the gizzard. The guys searched for places to hunt while I pondered how they cleared the land to begin with; MS has been wooded since before Moses.

Our last forward turn was not an exit to the highway; we dead ended in tall grass lost as a goose. Daylight would last about an hour, and there was no phone service.

I don't pay enough attention to where I am when I'm not driving. I kept still and prayed. Warren slowly turned around. "We better go back the way we came."
"Does anybody remember how we got here?" JB asked.
The picture is a gooey spot with our tracks, a good sign.

Scrub trees forked and tracks weren't visible, I held my breath. Warren stopped. I'm thinking, if we make the wrong turn, we might run out of gas, night would be cold, I for sure am not sitting here while they go for help. His thoughts sorted, he turned to the right. It took almost an hour to reach civilization, but we made it. Whew! An adventure Mississippi style!

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

Thanksgiving catered to the woods

2010-11-29T14:09:00.006-06:00

"Baby, could you stop and get us each a plate lunch and bring it to the woods?"
"Or would you rather have chicken and dumplings, green bean casserole and pecan pie?"
"Hey! You guys want chicken and dumplings?" JB called.
Skipper answered for all, "Heck yes. That beats potted meat and vienna sausage."

My car smelled yummy. I couldn't wait to dive in. They were glad to see me, but in no hurry to eat. In spite of Clint's turkey in the oven, a few more stories had to be told, and the cooler wasn't empty yet.

I walked the couple of blocks to our camp. Last year the building burned to the ground in a thunderstorm. Locals said the gas bottles went off like rockets. What was left had to be buried. I was shocked to find no trace of JB's thirty-seven years of camping. This is where we parked our motorhome over the winter. I slept by the fire ring under the stars at full moon. No more handmade, four adult seats swing a friend traded JB for his leather jacket, or motel-sized refrigerator from Lake of the Ozarks with a story of its own. The crushed rock drive is overgrown. Five layers of used carpet, camp grass, is history. So are we.

Too stunned to weep, Mother Nature did it for me. A cloud came up and drenched me. I could almost hear her laughing. Might as well laugh, there was nothing to do but keep walking in the downpour. JB rushed toward me with my car. Too late. Dr. Seuss said it best, "I'll bet you never yet met a wet pet as wet as that pet can get."

Mud. Mississippi mud sticks to the boots and doesn't crumble off. The way of the woods: fresh fried crappie; another deer and turkey season. Nature cycles uninterrupted. The winner in the end. We are mere ghosts of the past.

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

Where's the water?

2010-11-20T19:50:00.012-06:00

This is what's left of Lake Grenada on the south end. The sailboat in the distance is stranded. It will take many inches of rain to bring the water level up to dam-worthy depth.

We drove across the dam and spotted a pickup truck out in what used to be the lake parked on an old stretch of highway that is supposed to be under water. Off to their right are blocks in a square formation, probably the foundation of a house. Do you suppose they were reminiscing about the Thanksgivings they spent there?

Pray for rain.

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

Three-thirty zippers

2010-11-20T19:30:00.008-06:00

The bed shook. Earthquake?
"Daddy," Brett called, "It's time to get up. It's 3:30. Come on." Moan from prone.
I nudged and prodded his weary, 2-hrs. of sleep body.
Zip the scent-blocked slacks. Zip the down jacket. Zip the shaving kit. Zip the suitcase. Drive sixty miles. Haul the Sweet Baby Ray's barbecued pork sandwiches, potted meat, Vienna sausages and crackers up into the deer stand. Wait. Wait.
Full moon. Too warm. Deer not moving. Didn't see any. Better when it's cold and nasty.

They're on their way home. Reverse Zips. Bet they sleep in.
It's Uncle Ben's deep-fried turkey for dinner tomorrow, our Thanksgiving.

Happy Thanksgiving to you, too.

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

Closing the Nebraska chapter of my life.

2010-11-08T18:30:00.007-06:00

There's an old Scottish hymn that explains my leaving. "Will you come and follow me, if I but call your name? Will you go where you don't know and never be the same? Will you let my name be known? Will you let my love be shown? Will you let my life be grown in you and you in me?"

Many, many years ago I said, "Thy Will be done." It has taken me places I never dreamed of and made friends I never would have met. I've provided services and been provided for in ways I could not have imagined.

John, from Mississippi, showed up at my door unannounced, and I knew I was headed south. I just knew. That was ten years ago. If I didn't get clear intuitive messages, I could not have pulled up stakes and left, but I know that I know it is Thy Will.

In meditation this past July, I was advised to put a "For Sale" sign in my yard before noon Saturday. There were boxes everywhere, almost ordered chaos that went against house showing advice. Thy Will, truth, defies logic.

I continued to sort, sell, box and donate from over a hundred years and four generations of family. The Library was beneficary to hundreds of books. Anything I could replace, I gave up. Actually, I paid ahead. I gave so I can receive. What goes around comes around.

A beautiful Sat. morning dawned. I walked to the hardware store early. They had for sale signs but nothing to hold them in. None at the First Street store either. It was approaching eleven, and my stomach was tying in knots. Diane picked me up. Chris bolted my signs to her metal real estate frame. Just before noon I placed it. My heart in my throat, I went into the house and sobbed. Surrendering my will wasn't easy.

A couple of days later I showed it and liked the couple right off. They'd been in town five days. She and I have so many similar interests, it was like looking at myself at that age. She loves the bones of the house and the happy energy. I didn't mind leaving it with them. I gave up a house and gained dear friends.

It was hardest for Aja. "Why do you have to leave?" she pleaded.
If I said it was God's will she might be angry with God. "I will be back." So help me God. "We are forever friends."
She nodded. "Will you visit my school?"
"Yes, and Ryker's." I talked to their parents before I made a promise. "After school, we'll go grocery shopping, take it to your house and fix supper for your family." It gives each of us something to look forward to, and we love to create in the kitchen.
"When are you coming?"
"I'll be back before Christmas." She was placated.

Ryker is glad to have another boy in the neighborhood. It's been all girls all his life: eight years. And Alec is in his grade.

Aja came to the door when the new owners and I were the kitchen. "Aja this is Brandi, and she likes to cook."
Aja looked up into her big brown eyes, "Can I cook with you?"
"Sure."
I can go now.

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

I-just-want-a-driver's-license saga

2010-11-08T13:37:00.012-06:00

My maternal grandparents, my parents and I have always licensed our vehicles in Saunders County. Grandpa was among the first to have tags on a vehicle when tagging originated.

Today I went to get a MS driver's license. The clerk said, "First you need car tags."

At the Court House I heard, "You need to bring in the title." Luckily I knew where it was. She took my money and kept my title to send to the Capital. It will be researched, to be sure it's mine (12 yrs.)and sent back to me weeks from now. I hadn't planned to sell it anyway.

'PAT 960' is my new tag for just the back of my car. MS doesn't tag both ends. It has a lighthouse on it for the coast and in memory of Katrina victims. It's pretty with the red sunset on the Gulf.

At the License Bureau I happily produced the tag info, my driver's license and social security card. "Your name is not the same on both." Crap! "You will need to take your marriage license and card to a SS office to get a new social security card and come back." This isn't New York City! I bit my tongue and kindly wished her a nice day.

I don't remember the last time I saw my marriage license. Who would have thought I'd need it after thirty-six years and Leonard dead thirteen of them? $37 later I have a certified copy coming. I pray I wrote everything right so they can find it, and it gets here before I need to change my insurance.

Explaining my frustration to Uncle Ben he shook his head, pointed at me and cautioned, "Be careful now, you hear. You could get opticalrectitis."
Naive me, "What's that?"
"A shitty attitude."
I'm close.

Since I will have to go to the SS office in Grenada, I might as well stop at Wall's overstock store. That's a happy thought. The last time I was there with a friend who found linen sheets, and I found cashmere sweaters. It's the only retail store I've ever been in where we were 'told' to put the clothes we didn't buy back on the rack. So much for order.

I'd close this chapter with something profound, but I don't think I can top Uncle Ben.

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

The Traveling Door

2010-09-07T19:16:00.004-05:00

JB and his long-time friend, Yankee, were sitting out front of the apartment when JB noticed a glass storm door on the apartment across the lot. Only one of the eight apartments there is occupied; only two on our side.

Storm doors are non-existent on the remaining 15 apartments. JB commented, “I sure wish we had a storm door here.”
Yankee thought a minute, “Why not that one?”
JB tried the idea on, got up, grabbed his screw driver and headed across the parking lot. An hour later the door was attached to our apartment.

I windexed both sides and wiped it off with newspaper. Schatzie and Madchen sat side by side appreciating the view from the safe side. The grass to the west is tall swamp grass. I don’t know what lives there, but Madchen has come racing in clucking her teeth.

Early the next morning there was a knock at our door. I answered. “I’m the maintenance man. I’m repossessing your door. I promised it to the new upstairs tenant who moves in today.” Too funny. I had occasional furniture at home, but here too?

Virginia moved in, heard about the door switch and came down to apologize. No need, no harm was done. We all laughed and became friends over the traveling door.

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

Giraffe family portrait

2010-08-29T12:27:00.004-05:00

For some reason, the picture of five young giraffes will not upload. Use your imagination.

Mom Giraffe wants a simple family portrait for the grandparents. "Line up," she says, "Get out of the brush. Stand near the edge of the bank. I have to stand across the ditch to get all of you."

The whiner, "Mom, he's touching me."

She rolls her eyes. He's such a sissy, "All five of you move a neck-length apart, and stand still!"

In her quiet voice #3 cautions, "Mom, there are two-footeds watching us."

What next? "There are no such things. Say tall trees."
Click.

Click.
photo by Leroy & Alice Patocka-Fortner in South Africa

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

A Southern Fish Fry

2010-08-28T09:10:00.000-05:00

When the heat and humidity are equal, all you can do is have a fish fry. Six of us couples did, and it was scrumptous.

Start at the bottom of the picture: my green and purple cabbage slaw; five pounds of french fries; two pans of spicy baked beans; and a large pan of deep fried fresh crappie and catfish. Beyond the bottles of tartar and cocktail sauce is a pan of hushpuppies with added Ro-tel and chopped green pepper. What isn't pictured is a huge glass bowl of homemade banana pudding and a pound cake.

While we feasted, the men relived their hunting adventures, and we women discussed food, kids and men. I wish you could hear the laughter and see the smiles as old and new friends shared a pleasant afternoon Southern style.

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

My First Flight

2010-08-27T07:00:00.001-05:00

was to South Carolina to see my sister with my eleven-month old baby, Corrie. I was embarrassed to handle her with a body harness, but the travel agent insisted it was a good idea. People looked at me as if she was my puppy. Seated in bulkhead, she squirmed to the floor. I got ahold of her harness and gently lifted her up. Thank God for a short leash.

Omaha to Chicago was smooth. The Captain informed us flying east the weather would be turbulent. A business man cross the aisle repeatedly offered to hold Corrie. I thought he was a bit pushy. He insisted, "I make this trip every week, and it is going to be rough. Trust me." I did, and it was. We were tossed around like ice in a shaker. I questioned leaving home for this, but I wanted to see my sister.

The man was a blessing. I was scared to death, and she would have felt it. I wished I had a shoulder to lean on. Over and over he patted her back and sang "Possum up a tree stump, rabbit in a hole..." She laughed, felt safe and fell asleep on his shoulder. When we landed in South Carolina, he carried her off the plane and handed her to me.

I didn't know then that I would go on to log tens of thousands of air miles and each time remember what I learned from him: adapt, be of service, let others help me, and don't panic.

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

double trouble

2010-08-23T07:20:00.004-05:00

MSN photo

No matter how much music and how many lights we put in the sweetcorn, they knew exactly when it was ready and we weren't around.

They remind me of the children's storybook "Curious George." George, a pet racoon, washed everything and was disappointed when a sugar cube dissolved.

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

Past Pastor 'n Pat's Pearl Party

2010-08-22T07:00:00.004-05:00

Is that a mouthful, or what?

Ryker came in and announced, "Chefy Ryker here, and I want an apron." We substituted my jacket. He pushed a stool to the stove and proceeded to saute fresh veggies for the Vegetarian Split-Pea Soup, our first course. Gently stirring he commented, "The flavors have to marry. What kind of kids will they have?" .

Aja popped in and insisted, "I'll help." Every cook needs a pot scrubber.

Justin prepared the salmon in parchment per Suzane Somers with lemon slices and sprigs of fresh thyme. He had never eaten it but was willing to try. "Can I come back and cook some more?" Sure.

Pastor and Pat arrived all smiles and game to wear the pearl table decorations. Schatzie came running and jumped in his lap. That's a first for anyone. Pastor generously petted and scratched him until dinner was ready.

We steamed Whole Foods baby red potatoes and green peas, added a splash of butter and sprigs of garden baby dill making a colorful presentation.

Over the years I've watched Pastor minister to our community. He overflows with love and compassion for all. It is safe to say he walks the talk of Jesus Christ.

Pat was excited, "We are going to Denmark. Andy will meet us there. He is making all of the arrangements." Awesome! They trained him right.

Pastor added, "My parents and I sailed to Denmark when I was twelve. One stormy night, I didn't think we'd make it."

Our palette cleanser was apple/pear gelato. Refreshing.

"Have you had your pudd today?" I asked. It was a quesion often heard in old England.I found the recipe in Betty Crocker. Kim was pouring it into the baking dish and lost her grip. Might as well laugh; she had egg on more than her face.

The Pudd baked in a hot water bath. The top became a sponge cake and the bottom settled into lemon pudding. Outstanding! No wonder it appears in so many recipe books.

I forgot to serve the wine and take pictures of food, but a good time was had by all. They filled my house with laughter and warm memories of good friends,good food and eager to learn to cook children.

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

Spinach Balls

2010-08-21T14:32:00.011-05:00

My daughter-in-law, Carol, first made Spinach Balls for us. They were so good, JB asked for the recipe. I like to keep them on hand. They're healthy, quick and easy to make.

It is important to buy a good brand of finely chopped spinach. In a hurry, I bought a cheap one and found it stringy with too many stems. We couldn't use it.

Two 10 ounce packages of chopped frozen spinach, thawed, drained and squeezed dry.
Add 2 cups of Pepperidge Farm herb seasoned dry stuffing crumbs
a dash of dry mustard
6 eggs, beaten
1/2 cup soft butter
1 cup parmesan cheese.

Mix. Roll into small balls.(I got 42 out of my last batch.)Refrigerate or freeze until firm.
Bake on lightly greased cookie sheet 350 degrees 15"

Spicy Hot Mustard Sauce
1/4 cup dry mustard
1/2 cup white vinegar
Mix and set aside 2-24 hours

Add 1/2 cup sugar
1 egg yolk
Simmer until thick

Can you believe spinach tastes so good?

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

To my Chinese comenters

2010-08-21T14:30:00.004-05:00

Dear Friends,

Translations do not always come through. I want you to know
I appreciate your interest and support.

Sincerely,
Maeann Jasa

Looking good from any angle

2010-08-21T14:27:00.008-05:00

Best friends relaxing. Aja holds Madchen, with a long a. Madchen has her own ministry radiating love to all. Aja's ministry is helping wherever she can.

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

Summer's Best

2010-08-20T09:52:00.004-05:00

A feast for the eyes I found at our local city center market. The peaches taste like peaches. We've already eaten the long, slim quarter-sized eggplant sauteed with a summer squash and one shapely red peper. Yum. Today I'm cooking purple-hulled peas with okra.

I'm learning tricks about cooking in castiron skillets on top of the stove. It's so hot here, we don't need more heat in the kitchen. I did not know I could make cornbread on top, if I cover the skillet and turn the burner on low. I'll let you know how it is. I might have had a decent peach cobbler this way, too. Instead, it was crispy on the sides and the dough was undone. We're just eating the peaches as is. They're quite fine naked.

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

Mooshing Bernie

2010-08-10T19:46:00.017-05:00

Bernie was between trips to Chicago for treatment. We had to have a Pearl Girls party. Kim was at work and Sandi was otherwise occupied, but they were there in spirit. Di and I held up our end. Chris called from NYC with well wishes.

Bernie said she'd eat anything healthy. No problem. I fixed a fresh sweet potato and green bean soup, tomato slices with capers, and limeade from fresh squeezed limes.

Earlier in the day Kim left a wrapped present for her: a pin/pendant "Tree of Life" representing the huge oak trees on her farm. We could almost hear the wind in it. Hugging a tree is good medicine.

Bernie explained the mix of medicine and holistic treatment in Chicago. They treat the whole person on all levels. God bless them. There's more to cancer treatment than chemo and radiation.

She admired an oblong print on my wall: pots of colorful impatients lined up on steps. It was natural to offer it to her. She protested. I insisted claiming Indian thinking: if someone admires something I have, I should give it to them. Except for my man. She giggled and accepted my picture.

We didn't need to give her presents, but there is the urge to give her something to smile about, even though she stays upbeat. We're in this with her, and would move heaven and earth to free her of it. That's what friends do.

For dessert I fanned slices of Braeburn apples. Under the fresh mint leaf is chopped Braeburn apple with chopped almonds, cinnamon and a splash of almond milk. Yum.

Until next time, Pearl Girls, Bon Appetite!

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

Umbrella art

2010-07-27T14:18:00.012-05:00

Ryker creates. Another day he ran into the wind shouting, "How many umbrella's would it take to fly?" Aja was sure she could. No lift off happened, the wind turned my Monet inside out.

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

Our Neighbors

2010-07-21T14:24:00.005-05:00

Cam and Wendy and their famly are our Chinese neighbors who run a great Chinese Restaurant in our town. We love the General's Chicken and Cashew Chicken. Snowball used to live in their house and belong to the neighborhood. We all watch out for him as he travels from house to house befriending us and collecting handouts.

We're a mix of people and pets from around the world watching out for each other. Neighbors.

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

News for the blind.

2010-07-21T14:15:00.004-05:00

You didn’t expect pictures, did you?

I caught up with Connie on her phone when she was out for a Saturday afternoon walk. Huffing and puffing just a little, she proceeded to tell me where she was and what she saw. “I’m over by the old grade school, North Ward.”
I know it, my mother taught there. It’s been leveled and so has West Ward.

“Now I’m walking down Richard Vybiral’s old alley, old because he doesn’t live there anymore and convenient because it’s paved.”
His mother and mine were friends in school. The longer we live here, the longer it takes to introduce someone.

“I’m walking down Linden. A new sign is going up. Soon as I can see it, I’ll read it to you: ‘Ryan’s Repair and Automotive Service; Scott’s Tree Service’. The guys are laughing at me. I’m reporting the news.”
I only know of one individual who put their car in the top of a tree and lived to tell about it. Prague. Saturday night. Enough said. Needless to say, they had no idea where they were until daylight and the first step.

“Somebody just drove by and gave me a one fingered wave―index finger.”
They’re too tired to wave them all.

“Wahoo State Bank’s time is 2:36 pm. The bank is closed, so is Lucille’s. I think the only businesses open are the Warehouse, Dollar General, The Chinese Restaurant and a bar.”
It isn't like Saturdays past when families came to town to shop until 11 pm and trade eggs and cream for flour and sugar.

“The wind’s coming up and dark clouds are rolling in. I need to get home so I can cleanup and get to the Museum’s Barbecue. See you there.”
The menu is barbecued pork sandwiches, baked beans, coleslaw, potato salad, and if we have room, Donald Proett’s brownie sundae with ice cream made on the spot.

And that’s the news from Wahoo, the one and only.

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

Impromptu Pearl Party and July 4th

2010-07-02T14:40:00.017-05:00

Happy July 4th to you and yours.

I was packing dishes for goodwill when Bernie came back from Chicago and Chris arrived from the East Coast. We had to have a pearl party. Never mind my extra dishes were loaded in the car for good will.

My third trip to goodwill to donate leftovers from my garage sale I found eight huge green glass goblets just right for gazpacho that coordinated with the dishes I had planned to give away. A good thing I didn't. They worked well with Monet and dark green placemats.

The Essential Vegetarian Cookbook provided the gazpacho recipe. Plenty of fresh tomatoes, cucs and tomato juice serve as the base with chopped stoplight peppers, onion and garlic. A dollop of sour cream on top and homemade garlicy croutons completed the presentation. Yummy and comfortably filling.

A pitcher of fresh squeezed lemon juice allowed each to make their own lemonade with honey. A simple pleasure. So what if I served ice cubes with salad tongs.

We caught up on each other's news. Chris kayaks and has learned to sail off the East Coast. Bernie returns to Chicago next week to begin radiation treatments. It was a time to celebrate each other's accomplishments and offer support. We're our own Yah Yah Sisterhood AKA Pearl Girls.

Deep in my hutch I found eight clear yellow dessert plates just right for a slice of homemade Suzane Somer's New York Style Cheesecake with Raspberry Coulis and a fresh strawberry fanned by Chris. And she stayed to help with dishes, God Bless her.

July 4th reminds us to treasure our simple pleasures, our freedom and take nothing for granted. I hope you have a safe Holiday.

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

Where did you purchase this product?

2010-06-29T16:36:00.003-05:00

The Essential Vegetarian Cookbook by Whitecap Books is available on Amazon.com. Enjoy!

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

2010-06-16T19:17:00.008-05:00

It was as delicious as it is beautiful.
I found the recipe in The Essential Vegetarian Cookbook by Whitecap Books US & Canada. The bright colors sold me.

The flan shell is baked first making it nice and crispy. I sliced Roma tomatoes in half long ways, drizzled them with EVOO and sea salt before baking 15” in another pan. A slice of Bocconcini (fresh mozzarella cheese) was placed between each tomato. Green onion slices were scattered with fresh rosemary snips, then baked to finish. The tomatoes flavor deepened and the onions and rosemary opened wide their scent. All the senses were fed.

Diane, Kim and I ate half then stopped to talk about rocks: where from and what for. Rocks have jobs, you know. Diane and Kim are the kids who brought home their lunch pails full, and they’re still collecting. Kim always has a few in her pockets. I appreciate rocks, but my passion is feeding the girls while they discover.

We consumed the rest of the Flan later and topped it off with pineapple/basil gelato, an odd combination that tasted perfect together.

Bon Appetité

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

What ballplayers are made of.

2010-06-11T15:47:00.015-05:00

Ryker and Aja love brusselsprouts and Juice Plus shakes. As a matter of fact, they will eat most any fruit and vegetable and love to create in my kitchen. Last night's perusal garnered sweetcorn. Ryker cooked them each an ear. Aja poured whipping cream in a bowl and whipped it. "It needs something more." A dah of Vanilla and smidgen of Somersweet were added. "It still needs something." Mandarin oranges caught her eye. She needed a little help with the can opener. "I'll drink the juice." She did and snapped her fingers; it was just right.

Like a swarm of grasshoppers they moved on to Ryker cooking himself a bowl of oatmeal on the stove and Aja cooking thin spaghetti to eat plain. Whatever works.

Ryker played ball last night. Aja plays on Wednesdays. At first I thought the kids were too young, but after watching them, I see they're being taught more than the mechanics. There is no scoring. The game is played by allotted time while they learn teamwork and good sportsmanship. Coaches and staff praise.

With the positive influence of the game and tummies full of wholesome food Dr. Seuss said it best, "Oh, the places you will go." I'd better keep my pantry and refer stocked.

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

Tea Party Currant Scones

2010-06-03T14:55:00.005-05:00

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

Tea 'til 2

2010-06-03T14:13:00.021-05:00

Flowers need sunshine and rain; friendships need appreciation, time and love.

I’ve known Connie since she was three. That’s her in the middle wearing what was my lime green jacket, and she didn't take it off, either. Jani and I were at our grandparents when we first saw her across the street riding her tricycle. Her long, dark, naturally curly hair bobbed as she peddled. We eyed each other, but couldn’t play because neither of us could cross the street.

Mim is on the left. I admire her and Doc for taking their young family to New Zealand for a year while he practiced Veterinary medicine. It inspired me to stretch beyond home.

Carol is an OPTIMIST. Thank God. We need people who can go through the storm and land on their feet. Her outfit was destined for Goodwill, but she changed her mind. It's my size.

Nothing is too good for friends. We had a tea party that started at 10 and quit at 2, not because we were done, we had to. I put out good dishes and a left-handed cup for Connie―LOL. We ate oven-fresh Currant Scones with fresh Clotted Cream, both from “Special Teas;” Strawberry and Seedless Blackberry Preserves ‘all fruit’ by Polaner; and drank Darjeeling, “the champagne of black teas.” Geat friends. Great fun. Great memories.

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

a "C" day

2010-06-03T14:11:00.000-05:00

Cheeries, bing
Celery stalks
Curried Chicken salad
Celeric root
Cabbage, red
Cheese, Uniekaas Reserve with tiny crispies ??
Cheese, Gouda Young Red Wahed
Cheese, Gruyere for Quiche

Can’t help but love shopping at Whole Foods

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

LOCAL VETERANS LAID TO REST

2010-05-30T11:11:00.011-05:00

Memorial Day, Wahoo Cemetery

Another year, more veterans laid to rest. Each name is hand-written on a white cross. We weave among them searching for friends and family.

Mary Jones, AK Mother Jones, said, "Pray for the dead. Fight like hell for the living."

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

Coveting the Quiche

2010-05-21T14:08:00.000-05:00

My friend, Arlinda Snelling, came for dinner this week. We had a pleasant visit over Joy of Cooking's Quiche Lorraine with bacon, mushrooms & asparagus. The crust recipe was from Vegetarian Pleasures. The Simple Salad was from Lemon Lovers. It was ok, but tasted better the next day: torn baby greens with a little fresh lemon juice, a little less balsamic vinegar, salt and pepper and shredded parmesan cheese all tossed.

I've not done well with my two previous Buttermilk Texas Sheetcakes. This one is right on. The cinnamon is a nice surprise and the half teaspoon of cayenne adds zip and boosts the metabolism. It stays moist, but does not keep with friends popping in for a sample.

Arlinda took home lilacs and Quiche. Unbenownst to us, Kim circled the block to see if she had left so she could have Quiche and not have to wait until the next day.

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

Monday Night Pearl Party Dessert

2010-05-10T14:18:00.000-05:00

“Joy of Cooking’s” Vegan Chocolate Cake Kim corrupted with a mound of whipped heavy cream, chocolate dipped strawberries and chocolate drizzle. We cut it into six pieces. Super and so was the Semi-sweet St. Croix dessert wine.

It was the best of times. Tired, stressed women relaxed and enjoyed the support of each other. We called Chris back east and wished her a Happy Birthday

Kim and I are on a roll. Next Monday we’re hosting a pearl party for other friends.

Thank you Julie and Julia.

Bon Appetité!

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

Monday Night Pearl Party Menu

2010-05-10T14:14:00.000-05:00

Kim held my Todd English pumpkin-shaped kettle so I could serve each lady Bouef Bourguignonne, a boiled potato and a dipper of sauce with boiled onions and a carrot chunk. A sliced baguette was passed on LBJ's handmade breadboard. Kim and I watched wide-eyed as they wiped their bowls clean with chunks of baguette. No better compliment.

Roasted stoplight peppers and Wild Woman Wilted Salad from “The Passionate Palate” were next. I used a variety of lettuces and not all would wilt. Kim was laughing. Bernie hadn't said two words, but brought the house down,“Nine o’clock, where’s the damn salad?” Di laughed so hard she had to leave the table. The party got louder after that. The St. Croix might have had something to do with it.

A single scoop of Black Raspberry/Champagne Sorbet was the palette cleanser served in my late mother's goblets. I don't know why I should call her late? She was never late for anything. However, she is deceased. The Sorbet was outstanding. Whole Foods.

I was grateful for Kim's help and said so. Someone labeled her “the scullery maid.” She responded imitating Carol Burnett’s mop lady, butt scratch and all.

Back in the kitchen, she milked it some more,“We need some kitchen gossip. Did you see the pearls on the broad at the end?”
I peaked into the dining room. “Yeah, Mrs. Gotrocks.” We bust out laughing
Loud glass tapping at the table. Diane, “Hold it down in there. You’re having too much fun.”
Look who’s talking. She’s wearing all the pearl table decorations.

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

Monday Night Pearl Party #3 - the tame table

2010-05-10T12:06:00.001-05:00

We're a tame group. We haven't eaten yet. Kim is behind the camera. Bernie, Sandi, me in the middle at the head or the foot. I like looking at the kitchen door panels Krysia and I painted bright yellow in honor of Monet. Kelly and Diane. We're all busy and want to get on with it. They have no idea what's coming. Bon Appetite!

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

Monday Night Pearl Party table

2010-05-05T16:15:00.001-05:00

The dining room table was set with sailboat placemats and lighthouse napkin rings from Nantucket, Pfaltzgraf Sierra Cobalt and 1847 Rogers flatware. Grandmother Williamson's red glass swan floated six red roses. Kim stripped another bloom and spread the petals. Bernie brought the dark fuschia bouquet. The square red candles and freshwater pearls were Krysia's. She would like that and the food, too. Classical music by KVNO. And butter, real butter, in honor of Julie and Julia.

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

Monday Night Pearl Party #2

2010-05-05T12:36:00.000-05:00

Here are our pearl-wearing guests at my breakfast nook table. Left to right: Sandi, wearing her boa. I know it was feathers, it molted. Lovely, tanned Kelly. Her middle-school son, Justin, made the hors d'oeuvre: English burpless cucumber slices topped with a dollop of sour cream and hint of horseradish, a spoon tip of smoked salmon herb ball and a sprig of fresh dill. He made one larger. "Be sure Mom gets this one." She did and was so proud. He squeezed lemons and made them lemonade, too. Across the table is her mother, my dear friend, Diane, and soft-spoken Bernie.

The kitchen was filled with tantalizing aromas. Our friends had somewhere else they needed to be, but we persisted with a motive: for them to relax, enjoy, feel loved and appreciated. We need to support one other.

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

Monday Night Pearl Party #1

2010-05-01T12:20:00.011-05:00

Watching “Julie and Julia” four times inspired me. My friend, Kim's eyes lit up, “We should have a party.”

At James Arthur Vineyard we planned and shared baguettes, a hunk of cheese with spinach and artichoke, a slab of smoked salmon and Angel’s Share wine hinting of raspberries. It was a perfect Nebraska day: no wind; no flies; no mosquitoes. Two cats followed their noses to share salmon. We came home with Dry Red St. Croix, White Semi-Sweet St. Croix for dessert, and a plan: Dinner for six at MaeAnn’s. Wear your pearls and say, “Bon Appetité!”

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

Thunder or reindeer

2010-04-12T16:49:00.006-05:00

Toward evening I was working at the kitchen table when I heard a rumble above. I looked up and out. The sun was shining. Maybe there was a thunder cloud to the south?
I heard it again. Time to investigate.

Thunder did not make the noise. And there were no reindeer on my roof. But, there were two neighbor girls sitting near the peak of my house peering into the distant east. They couldn't see too far as the trees in the next block are tall, but it was the possibilities that were registered in there gazes.

The mother in me called out, "Get down from there!" The littlest one had on flip flops, not recommended for mountain climbing, but she navigated the roof standing up.

What will they think of next?

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

Easter 2010

2010-04-03T11:19:00.011-05:00

Life rearranges
to adjust to the gap
so each may experience
their true spiritual path

Easter the 4th and Krysia's birthday would be the 6th.

It's celebrating Jesus Christ's overcoming death that inspires. Enough with the suffering already, his and everyone else's, I'm concentrating on "The Good News."

Andre Rieu is helping me sort my household. He fiddles while I work. But he's fiddling with the Holland Orchestra and is magnificent. Even Aja likes it. We have to stop and dance.

I had Minestrone with Alphorn Music that could be heard for miles, but without the beauty of the Alps. That's what memory is for. I had a large fresh salad with Andy Griffith when he explained Macbeth, as only he can.

My friend, Diane, is too busy with web design school to cook or dispose of her dozens of quarts jars. I gave her homemade Minestrone in two of my quart jars. fI won't repeat what she said.

This week I offered to fix them dinner. It started with a trip to the meat market for bottom round. Two grocery stores were required for the fresh veggies: potatoes, carrots, parsnips, turnips, turnips and celery.

Inspiried by Vivaldi the menu grew from "Betty Crocker" Beef Stew to include "Joy of Cooking" Popovers. No stopping me now. A Romaine lettuce salad with chopped fresh tomato, sliced burpless cucs and scallions needed a low-cal Vinegarette dressing from "Joy of Cooking." Back to the grocery for Dijon Mustard, scallions and fresh lemons.

With Julia Child enthusiasm, I dug out my Mississippi "Belle's Best" cookbook and made a sourcream poundcake. Then back to the store. My intention was to buy a bag of frozen raspberries. Not at $7.05 a bag! Punt. Mashed fresh strawberries would work just fine. I had a small bottle of CA White Zinfenal to reduce the berries in. Now all I needed was a drizzle. In the frig was an almost empty jar of Hershey's chocolate topping. Bingo!

Dinner was a hit! Middle-schooler, Justin, wants to come and learn to make pound cake. Another kid in my kitchen. I love it.

"Julia and Julie," or is it "Julie and Julia," awaits my viewing. What better way to celebrate "The Good News" than sharing food with friends.

Easter Blessing. Take care of one another.

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

Chinese translation

2010-03-29T16:17:00.005-05:00

I received a comment in Chinese on my "Cemetery Studies." The picture words are beautiful, but will not print here. The Babylon translation is: I only know that, if I go to Oi life, and that life is returning to Oi I Club.
I'd love to know more. Please leave a comment.

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

Not tires, haircuts

2010-03-23T16:38:00.005-05:00

Driving through Raytown, MO, on 350/50 west, there was a sign by the side of the road: We fix $6 haircuts.

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

HAPPY SAINT PATRICK'S DAY 2010

2010-03-17T14:38:00.014-05:00

MSN PHOTO

My chain of thoughts of St. Patrick goes like this: drnking at his well in Ireland; imagining him expelling the snakes; pencil-sized garter snakes unearthed by my landscaper's help digging up my dead tree. They froze and refused to go further. Unlike the snakes St. Patrick expelled, garter snakes are harmless. Try telling that to someone digging with their hands who doesn't speak English.

Castles and clouds. Rain. Did I say rain? Dark green grass punctuated with rocks growing out of the ground begging to be harvested for the next house or fence.Low-growing yellow, pink and purple Primrose expelling winter. Sheep curled on the grass strain our eyes to discern them from rocks. Spring lambs springing stiff-legged; their sweet faces and scrunching their soft coats.

Corned beef and cabbage. Green beer and little green men. Bright colored doors to recognize home. Warm scones, clotted cream, strawberry jam and tea. Friendly,ruddy-faced people. Wish we were there.

Wherever you celebrate, may the luck of the Irish be with you. And as Frances used to say, "May you be in Heaven a half hour before the devil knows you're gone."

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

Balloon Season

2010-03-04T15:38:00.002-06:00

Crusty snow hides in secret, sunless places. Before long it will be reduced to a puddle. Yeah for spring!

I see the strangest things. Or is it that I see the strange in the ordinary? What would you think of a "For Rent" sign beside a fire hydrant? What every dog wants: their own private pee post. I don't know who monitors it.

The temperature is approaching 50. Schatzie and Madchen pine at the door. When one comes back in the other goes out. Some secret system I'm not privy to; I'm just the door opener.

I wish I had a clothesline to hang wash and give it that "funny" smell the kids complained about way back when.

A car sporting a "peace" sign on its rear isn't unusual. But the house had a sticker on the door: "Keep abortion legal." Maybe the occupants aren't related.

Along Hwy 13 this week,I counted five black and white four-footeds that have given the world their best scent. I think it smells like balloons. Now that's a sign of spring.

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

A date with a pretzel.

2010-02-22T12:48:00.003-06:00

It was snowing Fri. morning when I had to get on the road. The best explanation of the driving conditions is cream of wheat on a waxed floor, a white knuckle drive. From Nebraska City south to St. Joseph, Missouri, I drove twelve miles an hour, thirty at most. Cars and trucks littered the ditches and median. We drove around and through previous accidents.

Our southbound right lane had a track, the left did not. A tanker and two eighteen-wheelers passed on my left moving a bit too fast, I thought.

A while later a lit sign at the side of the road stated “Exit 50 is closed. Find alternate route.” As in over the river and through the woods?

Exit fifty was not blocked by the time we got there. The two cars ahead of me continued. I followed. We came upon flashing lights, several highway patrolmen and a mega-wrecker. The collided vehicles had settled off the road. And guess who they were? Those three fast-moving trucks were pretzeled together. Do you want mustard with that?

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY 2010

2010-02-11T16:00:00.001-06:00

Love lives in the light and dark places of our souls. In fact, love is all there is and all that lasts.

Valentine's Day: Flowers and candy. A call from afar. Feeling the love over the line. Warm thoughts of and from those passed. Blessings all.

Wishing you a happy, "I love knowing you," day.

Love's Best

Love remembered

Times shared

Lessons

Love overflowed

Made sacred music

Slowly we grew

To one

Wanting

to trade souls

Just for a moment

To know what each knows

Love does not die. It connects hearts forever.

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

Cemetery Studies

2010-01-19T13:03:00.003-06:00

We like to visit cemeteries to find the oldest graves and see how the flowers are displayed. In Fayetteville, TN bouquets were fastened on the top of upright stones.

This picture was taken last summer at Louisville, Missisippi. I thought their graves were clever, colorful and unusual.

Here In Missouri we overlook the local cemetery. The grounds are well-groomed with small flat stones. Colorful, artificial flowers in slim urns give the illusion they recently sprouted. But not even winter's worst stops funerals. Is there a colder place on earth than a cemetery in winter?

Last fall I walked across the road to read names and dates. The first graves are only a few years old: a mother and four of her five children died the same day.

I have nothing to complain about.

One long ago blizzardy January day I watched a small group at a Wahoo cemetery. When they withdrew the casket from the hearse, the exiting end slipped out of their hands slamming to the frozen ground. Head or feet scrunched?

I suppose we all have a 'shelf life.' If I can, I'll arrange to leave when the weather's temperate. LOL

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

Winter Gripes and Magic

2010-01-15T12:32:00.005-06:00

Gene's pickup was too light to navigate the snow in the Midwest. And it doesn't have front or all wheel drive. What were you thinking? Snow was the most economical solution. He scooped our drive until he filled the truck bed.

A pickup load of snow is not an unusual site in the Midwest, even with front or four-wheel drive. Gene needed it to get around here, but then he went home to south Mississippi.

The kids didn't know what was in Dad's truck. They had never seen snow. Puzzled neighbor kids came to look and play in it with them. Snowball fights spread it across their yard. Adult neighbors came by to comment on it. People driving by stopped and frowned.

Who would have thought Midwest snow would "break the ice" in a warm-weather, Deep South neighborhood. It was magic. Good job, Gene!

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

Snowed in with Texas Rick's Spaghetti

2010-01-13T12:12:00.002-06:00

This winter is no picnic, but the conditions were harsher in my grandparent's time. Houses weren't as warm. If firewood froze down people froze to death. It makes me cold remembering Dad chopping a hole in the ice for the cattle to get a drink. And his laundered longjohns froze stiff on the clothesline. Mom brought them in and "stood" them in the corner until they thawed enough to bend over the drying rack.

Late in the afternoon of a bitter January day, Dad pointed out a sundog: two suns setting. One was a mirror image. They were two egg yolks about to splat into the evening.

Iced and snowed in, our Texas neighbor, Rick, asked if we'd like spaghetti? He would cook it at our house. I have the bigger pot. You bet. I've marveled at Italians cooking their sauce all day but didn't know the particulars.

Rick Roch's Spaghetti

Season one pound of ground beef with
1 tsp garlic powder, or 2 tsp chopped raw garlic
2 TBS Italian seasoning
1 tsp Montreal Steak seasoning
1 tsp. Tony Chacheres cajun seasoning

Brown in 2 TBS of EVOO with 1/2 cup chopped onion

Drain the grease off

Add 2 cans tomato paste
3 small cans tomato sauce
1 large can diced tomatoes
Fill diced tomato can with water and add
Repeat seasonings for sauce

1 tsp garlic power, or 2 tsp chopped raw garlic
2 TBS Italian seasoning
1 tsp Montreal Steak sace
1 tsp Tony Chacheres cajun seasoning

Now here's the secret: simmer 4-5 hours
Stir occasionally

Add Johnson's Summerville Italian Sausage with cheese
Simmer 2 hours
Stir occasionally

It smelled so good all day and was wonderful with angelhair pasta. Worth the wait.

I did not know left over pasta could be reheated. Rick said to drop it in boiling water and pour the water off. Fast. It worked. As Benny Hill used to say, "Learning something new every day."

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

HOLIDAY MOOSE

2009-12-31T15:25:00.001-06:00

Aren't they a joyful pair? Old friends, a long-married, happy couple.
Created and outfitted by Krysia, each year they take up residence beside the Christmas tree.
Christmas is behind us, the new year ahead.

Peace and Grace to you and yours in the New Year and always.

2009 Red Convertible Travel Series

CHRISTMAS 2009

2009-12-25T12:21:00.003-06:00

Merry Christmas all wherever you are.

I suspect few are where they expected to be. Cleaning out her winter closet, Mother Nature threw a wrench in plans far and wide. Rain to ice to snow has us locked in. No complaints. We're warm with plenty to eat.

Breakfast was an egg, spinach, cheese frittata. Chicken parts, onion, celery and carrots are simmering. I'll add dumplings, frozen corn and peas later. I don't know why when I cook chicken, I think I need to do something with eggs, too. Poor creatures don't stand a chance.

Unable to leave the house isn't a bad thing. It's a good time to contemplate the meaning of Christmas. We are loved so much by our Creator that he sent His son to help us. Do you think we can improve on that system? I don't. I just accept it.

Peace, Grace and Plenty to you.

2009 Red Convertible Travel Series

To talk to strangers, or not,

2009-12-23T08:00:00.006-06:00

that is the question. "Discern first," Mother cautioned.

Everyone has a boatload of stories. I like people. How will I learn about them unless I ask? In the UK I started conversations with, "What do you think of the Royal family?" They'd go on for hours.

This morning I stopped at a truck stop for breakfast. The trucker next to me was headed for Missoula, Montana. Snow and ice are predicted. "If it's too bad, I'll just pull over, crawl in the back and take a nap. I've driven seven million accident-free miles over forty-five years."
"Wow! How old were you when you started?"
"Fourteen."
I nearly choked on my eggs benedict. "Fourteen? Wait a minute, so were we. I learned to drive a tractor and a car long before I was fifteen."

He had a truck load of stories. A Cheorkee ancestor walked the Trail of Tears. In the 50's his grandparents got plumbing. Grandfather wasn't impressed. "It's not right for a man to crap in his house."
On relationships: "A man needs a wife, a friend and a lover. He doesn't need a boss, a bitch and a mother.

Names weren't exchanged. The visit wasn't personal, just an exchange of experiences and ideas that made us both smile. Mr. no-name trucker drove off toward a blizzard. I silently wished him well and prayed for his safety.

I would have missed out, if mother hadn't encouraged us to talk to strangers. But that doesn't apply to all of them. The guy further down the counter I wouldn't have asked the time of day. Mother did good when she said, "Discern first."

2009 Red Convertible Travel Series

Grandma's Day and Mine

2009-12-08T21:45:00.013-06:00

Yesterday was a homemade chicken and rice soup with scratch gingerbread day, just like Grandma's. I hoped to whip the cream with a whisk. No go. We poured it over. Grandma's blackstrap molasses, ginger and cinnamon wafted through the house blessing us a second time, remembering her a third.

You may notice I uploaded my photo. At this age my two best friends are my hairdresser, Judy, at Judy's Broadway, and my photographer, Diane McLain. Now you know what a good hair day looks like.

Our work badge photos aren't at all flattering, faces look flat or wide. No one to blame but me. A co-worker came here for their photo. The only white wall is in the shower. We had to stop laughing long enough to take the head and shoulder shot. When we saw our completed badges we all grimmaced. Every one of us said the same thing,"It doesn't even look like me."

I added, "If I saw those people on the street, I wouldn't talk to them either."

2009 Red Convertible Travel Series

Our first Missouri Thanksgiving

2009-11-26T15:35:00.011-06:00

Kitchen tools and spices are scattered from Nebraska to Mobile, AL with little bits here in Missouri. I think of my grandparents as small children traveling by covered wagon. We made do. Co-worker, Rick, and I put our heads together. I made a large skillet of buttermilk cornbread he converted to dressing with sage, poultry seasoning, melted butter, chopped hard boiled eggs, celery and onion. He mixed in chicken broth until it made ball stage. Sounds like candy. Not. We put it back in the big cast iron skillet to bake.

Rick seasoned a 5 1/2 pound roasting hen with melted butter, poultry seasoning, sage and rosemary. He cooked the giblets in chicken broth with two more chopped hard boiled eggs.

One hand mixer in AL and the other in NE necessitated using a slotted spoon to mash the potatoes. JB got his candied sweet potatoes. Rick made sweet potato pie from a recipe by COUGARR I pulled up on the internet @ allrecipes.com. Outstanding! To us sweet potatoes are more flavorful than pumpkin. I do like pureed pumpkin soup. In my family, it's girl food.

Where we found the round table for our kitchen, the lady offered us her yard swing. Today the guys picked it up. The frame is solid. The cushion needs replacing. JB and I put on warm clothes to swing and listen to Rick sing and strum his guitar. He does a pretty good Conway Twitty and "Up against the wall, Red Neck mother," by Jerry Jeff Walker. Between songs he said he needed a little table to set his drink on. I remembered seeing one by the dumpster. Ask and you shall receive.

At the deer camp we'd have a fire. Not here, but when we drove through our neighborhood and saw two gas bottles by a dumpster that would fit our free grill. JB went to the door. The lady answered and told him he could have one. The magic of Missouri continues.

Thank you, Father, for blessing us with enough.

2009 Red Convertible Travel Series

HAPPY THANKSGIVING 2009!

2009-11-26T10:18:00.001-06:00

msn photo

May everyone have enough.

2009 Red Convertible Travel Series

MISSOURI KEEPS ON GIVING

2009-11-18T17:51:00.014-06:00

The Generosity Angels struck again. Here in Missouri's division of the Universal Storehouse, we Live the Attitude of Gratitude and expect miracles.

Co-worker, Gene, had a headlight go out on his car. He bought a bulb but couldn't figure out how to set it. Grumble. Grumble. Picking up a sale for me, he met a young military man in camouflage working on his truck. They talked vehicles, like guys do. Gene commented about his headlight problem. The young man volunteered, just like he did for his country, "I'll take a take a look at it." He knew exactly what to do. Using needle nosed pliers he fixed it in a flash.
Gene was shocked, "How old are you?"
"Nineteen."

Another day Gene was writing up a sale for a lady folding clothes. "My kids have outgrown these. I'm taking them to goodwill." She paused and looked at him, "You're about my son's size." Shoving a pair of jeans at him, she asked, "Will these fit you?" He peeked at the label and smiled: exactly his size. She layered him with sweaters and shirts and added, "There's more. Stop back."

What wonderful surprises are next in Missouri's division of the Universal Storehouse? We'd love to hear what great surprises come to you in your division?

2009 RedConvertibleTravelSeries

More Missouri Castoffs

2009-11-03T19:21:00.013-06:00

Gene just came in from work carrying a 19" Symphonic TV and remote. That wouldn't be anything to write home about, except, he sold a lady cable, and she gave him the TV.

Last week we found a computer desk with a note, "Free. Take and enjoy!" We did.

Over the weekend we acquired another chair, two end tables and a lamp. Forget about furnishing on a dime, we still have 10 cents left!

It's ok sleeping on the floor on a single air mattress. We lay the same direction and inhale at the same time. It isn't far to the floor, if we fall out. The question is not how, but when, one of us will come upon a no-longer-needed bed? I want to jump on the bed. I want to jump on the bed.

2009 Red Convertible Travel Series

Memory Malfunction

2009-10-27T09:43:00.015-05:00

Just a minute, I'll be right back.

Who said elephant's never forget?

Leroy & Alice Patocka-Fortner took this picture in Africa. Leroy said he's seen an elephant 11'11" tall. That's a lot of elephant!

2009 Red Convertible Travel Series

WANAHOO DAM

2009-10-27T08:52:00.001-05:00

Since childhood we've heard speculation about a dam on Sand Creek. It was always too expensive. Something shifted. I took this pic atop what's left of Bodley's Hill. Never paved, it was a vehicle test when muddy, and a great place to sled. Today the stakes mark the edge, a sheer drop off of about fifty feet. Wildlife will need to find new homes. When the dam fills, the trees will be covered providing hiding places for fish and snagging places for fishermen.

Highway 77 will continue around the west and north sides of Wahoo and over the dam. Where highways 109 and 77 intersect, the road has been raised. The weigh scale got a lift, too. Afterall, no eighteen-wheeler wants to drive in a hole to get weighed.

When I celebrated my 16th birthday, friends and I went down snow-packed Bodley's Hill in a truck we believed could go anywhere. It couldn't. A neighbor and his tractor came to our rescue. With the building of the dam, Bodley's Hill is now a private, crushed rock drive.

Those below the dam are looking forward to life without flooding, while the recreation lake will spawn a variety of new businesses for fun. Bait anyone?

2009 Red Convertible Travel Series

PIONEERING MISSOURI

2009-10-23T13:40:00.008-05:00

If we'd just remembered how the pioneers traveled when they settled this country, we'd have come to Warrensburg with empty vehicles. This week was cleanup week east of Hwy 13. It allowed residents to put their "unwanteds" on the curb for the taking. Pioneer-fashion, we aquired an oblong wooden table and a round one, a box of dishes that included a kettle lid, mine has been missing for years. Neither of us brought dishes. Thankfully, we found cups, plates and flatware, two wooden chairs, a gas grill and a snow scoop guaranteed to stop winter.

During the day, JB spotted an entertainment center by a dumpster. We went back after dark, in a drizzle, loaded it up and wrestled the monster into our rental. Near midnight, we plopped in chairs to admire our find. I commented, "Our 17" TV looks newborn for the space; maybe it will grow into it. We need to shimmy the right end about an inch. "
JB studied, "No, we just need to set it on end."

You know you're tired when you can't figure out which end is up.

Next week the west side of town gets to unload. Who knows what we'll find.

Less is more . . . when it's enough.

2009 Red Convertible Travel Series

PULITZER PRIZE WINNER WILLA CATHER

2009-10-03T10:02:00.010-05:00

AAA Living featured “Prairie Prose” in their May/June issue. It took me until Oct. 2nd to read it. Willa Cather lived near and in Red Cloud, Nebraska. She wrote fiction patch-worked from the lives of those around her.

The home is frame and small, there weren’t a lot of possessions to house. When my mother, my young daughters and I visited it, I climbed the stairs to her room, stood there and wondered what inspired her to write about the ordinariness of Nebraska. Home to me, it doesn’t seem all that interesting. She, however, captured the pioneer’s spirits, some so tortured with longing for the old country they took their life to get back.

A master at creating life-like characters, in “My Antonia,” she speaks of those who moved here to escape their past. Burdens carried took ‘now’ time. Simple pleasures were missed. Confession wasn’t enough to erase their remorse. When snow is piling up, and the wind is howling like wolves, I get a bone chill thinking of the brothers and the bride. Just a story, I tell myself.

“O Pioneers!” engraved in my mind the people's grit and determination. Our paternal ancestors immigrated from Sweden. Winter must have made them feel right at home. Willa was born in Virginia in 1873 and moved here with her family when she was nine. The bare landscape saddened her; she loved and missed trees.

People left the familiar to establish new communities with their traditions in food and worship, methods of farming and building. Breaking sod was hard, hard work. Weather came without Doppler warning. Swarms of grasshoppers ate them out, blizzards froze them out, droughts wiped them out and prairie fires burned them out. Threats of Indian raids, disease and loneliness added to their woes. Women ached to talk to another woman. As a child, my grandmother was living in a sod house when their cow broke through the roof―more dust, grass and bugs to contend with. The pioneers tried to persevere, worked hard, carried water and didn’t have a lot to eat. In their photos, no one is smiling. One thing about this part of the country, the people know more about work than how to relax.

Open prairie prompted farmers to raise a barn in a day or two with the help of their neighbors. Glad for the company, women cooked, baked and gossiped. The men built with wood nails and enjoyed the women’s food, such as fried chicken, biscuits and gravy, fruit and meat pies, whatever was in season, and a wagon load of bread. My maternal grandfather, Roy Williamson, played harmonica and fiddle. If there was a dance at the end of the day, I can see him fiddling Turkey in the straw, his dark curly hair bouncing and his brown eyes twinkling.

I was fourteen when I first visited Red Cloud for our state-wide Rainbow Girls convention. A small town, we brought our pretty dresses and stayed with families. Overnight a prisoner in the jail picked the bricks out and escaped. Hearing about it on the news made us afraid to leave the house. Willa Cather might have seen it as an idea for a story.

2009 Red Convertible Travel Series

SHORTS, SHOES and SHEEP

2009-09-24T13:14:00.007-05:00

Last week my friend, Diane, and I volunteered at the Arlington, NE three day rummage sale on the fairgrounds. All day she unpacked, sorted and stacked donated plus sized sweaters, while I sorted small, medium and large shorts. I decided it would take seven pairs of Daisy Duke shorts to make one pair of jeans.

I suspect those in the know knew, if the volunteers had to leave the grounds to get something to eat, they wouldn’t come back, even though we were happy to be part of the effort. Volunteers were served a yummy potato and bacon soup, ham or egg salad sandwiches and a choice of cakes for dessert. A local bakery provided an assortment of brownies with nuts, or caramel, or nuts and caramel. Scrumptous! Back to work.

Our building displayed women’s clothes. Long jeans neatly folded and stacked bowed tables. Over 30’ of tables held folded sweaters at least six sweaters high and three or four across. Some blouses never made it to hangers, they ran out. We worked all day organizing, knowing full well a few minutes after opening it would look like a war zone. I could have shopped, but didn’t. It was overwhelming, like too many flavors of ice cream, just give me chocolate.

One building was dedicated to children’s clothes, another to men’s, a third to furniture. Across the road, row after row of shoes and purses were where I expected to find sheep.

Diane said this sale was a third of last year's donations, but they had a spring sale, too. As much as $75,000 has been raised for the hospital from a three day sale. That's a lot of Daisy Duke's.

2009 Red Convertible Travel Series

9/11/2009

2009-09-11T11:11:00.004-05:00

From my "Vegetarian Pleasures" cookbook I made East Indian red lentil dal, yogurt with fresh orange sections and raisin chutney. Each has a healthy dose of fresh chopped ginger. Delicious! My house smells lived in. On my walls I have four small paintings of Mazatlan, Mexico, three Dutch tiles and Egyptian Papyrus. My home is a reflection of the world, my home.

I've learned to appreciate other cultures. Love is an equalizer. As humans we see in small pieces. Our Creator sees the whole. If we step outside our fear and allow love, I believe we can live together in peace.

2009 Red Convertible Travel Series