Merry Christmas to all and to all a Good Night!

Christmas 2018


Johnny, Maeann and Buckshot

No, I'm not bald

my hair is long enough

to pile up

and I like it!

Christmas used to be

for the kids

Now it's just Buckshot

He'll be happy

for a long walk

We hope you have a
Merry Christmas
 and Blessed New Year

2018©️Red Convertible Travel Series

Thanksgiving, Christmas, Pillsbury Cookies

That was a short season!

Thanksgiving was the first time in four years we had guests for the holiday. I haven't been this happy since I cooked for "The Pearl Girls" to fill my home with happy. Niece Dawn brought Watergate salad and a sweet potato casserole. Yum! Her brother, Wes, brought ham, a lot of it. I cooked a Butterball Cajun seasoned turkey breast and made her mom's cornbread stuffing with chunks of the turkey. The recipe's a keeper. Of course we had mashed potatoes and gravy, green bean casserole, pecan and pumpkin pie.

Later, Bryce, Braden and Kaylee wanted Rice Krispie bars. We found Kroeger's closed. I have never seen our Wal-mart parking lot completely full. We braved the crowd. One of the kids reached between snaking carts and grabbed a box. We self-checked out and were back to the car in ten minutes. I suspect others waited hours.

Rice Krispie bars need to set and dry. Not necessarily. If there's melted Hershey to dip them in, go for it. And "we" did. I was a kid, too.

Granddaughter Bertlee came Sat. to bake cookies. Thank goodness Pillsbury mixed the dough and sold it in tubes. We made peanut butter with a Hershey kiss on top, gingersnaps, plain sugar cookies and some with bits of red peppermint candy that reminded me of Grandma. We did the Pretzels with Rolo's and a colorful mini-MnM. She had cookies to take to her 1st grade class and to her family. I hope we can do this again.

Thorton Wilder, "We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasure." 

Peace on Earth and Goodwill To All

Maeann

©2014 Red Convertible Travel Series
















She took some home. I'm giving lots away for early Christmas treats.

The Grinch vs Christmas

I tell myself, "Thank you Father for everything, I have no complaints whatsoever." It's been an effort lately, even though I know positive thoughts and feelings benefit me and negatives circle and bite.

I intended to blog every week, but I have not had internet for a month, and my computer still isn't right. For one thing, it repeats what I type - without my permission. My computer guru suspects I have one or more sticky keys. I love honey on my cereal, but I have not fed any to my keyboard.

My fb is sooooo slooooow. I send right-side up pics from my phone and they appear sideways on fb. People comment on them, but I can't find them to "try" to turn them to the right.

The Grinch did it: Someone out of the country tried to make a withdrawal from my bank account. Fortunately the Fraud Dept. caught it. They asked, "Did you charge this?"
"No"
"Have you been to the UK recently?"
"Nope," but my heart flutters at the prospect of travel. "When I go, you'll be notified."
These people need legitimate jobs. I'll put that on my prayer list. I didn't say Christmas list, there's no wishing, I'm taking action. Grinch be gone!

We wanted to go to the hills to cut a little tree, but Mother Nature decided otherwise. She sent rain that turned to ice. Here in the Deep South we don't have snow removal or scatter except for bridges. Improvise! I bought 6' of pine boughs at our Miss Dell's. They smelled so good I wore them home collar-style. Our creche sits`in the center on the tiny kitchen table by the window. That's Christmas.

May the Grinch not get a hold of your Christmas. May your holidays be wonderful and the New Year the best ever!

2013 Red Convertible Travel Series

MS River on the move

Is winter finally coming to an end in Minnesota? When my sister lived in St. Paul, she said they had two seasons: shovel and swat.

Here in Clarksdale this past Wed, we had low temps, wind, rain and heavy cloud cover making everything seem winter dark .It reminded me of Scotland.  I compared it to November here and thought about Christmas shopping.

The MS river is rising about a foot a day. Locals are relocating whatever is movable from behind the Levee. We watch the Helena, AR gauge. At 4 pm today, it was at 37.74'. Next Wed. it is expected to hit 40': Take Action Stage. I did not see mention of 40' as the crest. With all the snow and rain up north, west and east, it could be an eventful summer. We've done what we can. Now we watch and wait.

2/21/1937 the river reached an all time high of 60.2' The all time low of -4.20' was 7/11/1988.

2013 Red Convertible Travel Series

Christmas 2012 No End-of-the-World to report

Perry Como is singing "That Christmas Feeling" in our living room.. Madchen, with her sticking-out-every-direction orange hair and huge white ruff, naps her ample body on my three-ring binder on the desk. She's holding down my excitement. The draft of my Young Adult novel Up and Out will be ready for queries after the first of the year. My editor wrote, "You have written a novel. Congratulations! Enjoy the moment and then get back to work. There are no published writers, only published re-writers."  I'm up to the challenge.

There's been an uneasiness about 12/21/12. I admit, I was a little concerned until I felt led to go about business as usual and make plans for next year. Only God knows what's what, when, where, why and how. If this world comes to an end, maybe there's a better one taking its place: A knowing among all life that we are all connected. All life living together in peace and harmony. Each person recognizing, acknowledging and working cooperatively with their God-Self. Earth is treated with respect and appreciation for giving us a place to live, food and water.

Whatever happens, our lives go on uninterrupted, whether we wear skin or not. Only the body dies. I can witness to this. For over thirty years, I've worked with the deceased. Their body died, but their life didn't skip a beat. I help those who are stuck go on to the Light.

12/21/12 came and went. Life goes on. Merry Christmas and best wishes for the best New Year ever!

2012 Red Convertible Travel Series

The X in Christmas

I was accused of being lazy when I used Xmas for Christmas. Patrick Marshall, our Pastor at the First Presbyterian Church in Wahoo, NE, wrote about its history in the December newsletter.

"Centuries ago, when Christianity first started taking root and growing, the dominant language of our faith was Greek (the whole New Testament was written in Greek). In Greek, the word for Christ is Christo. The Greek alphabet doesn't have a C in it. So when you want to say Christo, you had to use the Greek letter X, which was pronounced Chi (not ch like chair, but more like the ch in how we say Christ). In Greek then, the word Christ looked like this: Xpistou.

"When it became illegal to be a Christian and the Roman Empire started persecuting, arresting, and killing Christians, they had to be a little more discreet about the fact that they were talking about Jesus. So instead of spelling out his name, they would simply abbreviate it with an X, the first letter in Chirst. When the Roman Emperor Constantine made Christianity legal in 313 A.D., he did so, in part, becuase he had a vision before a major battle of a shield in the sky with Greek letters XP on it (chi and rho, the first two letters of Christ).

"So for over 1700 years, the letter X has been used by Christians as an abbreviation for Christ. The word Xmas, then, is not an attempt to take Christ out of Christmas. Christ is right there in it. You have to look for him.

". . . Christmas (and Christianity) isn't about finding Christ in the obvious places. We have to search for him in this world and in our lives. Because then and now, God always shows up where we least expect him: in a manger; a conversation with a friend, or in something as simple as a letter. Merry Christmas."

Merry Xmas and Best Wishes for the New Year.
Grace, Peace and Plenty to you and yours now and always.

Love,
Maeann

2012 Red Convertible Travel Series

McCarty's Pottery & Gallery Restaurant

If you have people on your Christmas list who like pottery, check out mccartyspottery.com/faq.html
Last October Jani and I visited their shop at Merigold, MS, in what was originally a mule barn. Shoppers were shoulder to shoulder, and they were buying.

Should you be on the premises, be sure to visit the gardens. Decades of work have gone into them.

If you want an elegant lunch, their Gallery Restaurant is worth it. We were served without a reservation, but there were other's present who had made them. www.mccartyspottery.com/gallery.html

The bunny is McCartys, too.

The dark stripe on the cup represents the MS River.

Vegetable soup. Tasty.

We chose the shrimp enchilada with creamed spinach and Merigold tomatoes.

For dessert we shared a footed pottery goblet of Chocolate Cobbler with ice cream. It was a large serving and awesome. It served our chocolate fix for the day.

Mississippi has lots of treasures. Happy shopping! And Happy Holidays!

Peace and Grace to all.

2012 Red Convertible Travel Series

What I want for CHRISTMAS

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

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

Our Mississippi Christmas

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

January on the Farm

msn photo

Wrapped in my rose, flannel-covered duvet, I remember childhood winters on the farm. Night captured the sun and its sundog shadow signaling Nature to slide open the deep freeze door. Bitter cold waltzed out to test animals and people.

Evening's fist of coal warmed the resting cook stove. Overnight both cooled down causing freezing of the teakettle on the stove and the faucet across the room. Outside, wheat straw bales lined the north side of the house providing minimal insulation. Inside walls felt icy. Pale blue and white striped wallpaper over layers of newspaper, over lathe, didn't stop a blizzard, it strained it. The house begged for warmth. Dad's laundered long johns leaned against the dining room wall frozen stiff, ghost-like.

Standing close to the stove, Jani and I shucked out of school clothes into warmed, red flannel pj's. Socks stayed on. Clinging to the warmth, we scurried up the steps. The sheets warmed just to the shape of our spooning bodies.

The wind argued furiously with the plastic on the windows. The house shuddered. Subzero nights moved Dad to light the oil stove in our room. It took the sting off our second floor. Yuk! Stinky, oily-smelling. flames leaped behind the glass showing off their "hot stuff." If they got out, everything could be destroyed, including Myrtle, our pet lamb in the cellar. Terrified, I couldn't sleep; I had to keep watch.

Morning was announced by squeaks and clatters. Mom was in the kitchen lifting the lid on the cook stove; wood thunked in feeding its hungry appetite. We rushed to use the icy-rimmed chamber pot. Quick as cats we dashed down the steps sideways. Huddling near the cook stove's 'safe' fire we changed into school clothes. The phone rang, "No school today." Yeah!

Dad said he would take care of the livestock. No chores and no homework equaled a free day. Icicles hung from cattle's coats and steamy breaths. The axe made a hollow sound with each chop toward moving water. Chips flew. Cattle flinched. Dad's hands grew numb and stiff. His nose dripped. He cussed the weather.

Mother fixed cream of wheat with raisins and slathered scratchy slices of oven-toasted homemade bread with fresh butter and last summer's peach jam. The view from our kitchen table was eye-popping. Even the wind paused. Between our house and windbreak Nature had delivered feet of snow. Winter's diamonds sparkled in the sunlight.

Jani and I bundled in our Christmas boots, navy-blue coats, hats and gloves to make "first tracks" pioneer-like. Stomping and squealing we played fox and geese and threw snowballs at each other and the wash house. Dad went rabbit hunting while we built a lopsided snowman Mom could see from the kitchen window. Our gloves soggy and our faces rosy ,we fell backwards making snow angels.

Mom called out, "Come get this bowl and fill it with snow." We did. Warming by the fire we watched her stir in sweet cream from the cellar, a small amount of sugar and vanilla. Smiling, she spooned it into bowls and handed us each one. We hesitated. "Try it," she insisted taking a spoonful, "It's snowcream." Rich and creamy mini-crystals tickled my tongue. Delicious. She put a dish aside for dad. We three giggled and ate the rest. Snowcream, a yesterday pleasure.

2009 Red Convertible Travel Series

JESUS CHRIST

msn photo

The why in Christmas.

2008 Red Convertible Travel Series

Shades of Blue

We've seen Minnesota lakes turned into cities with ice houses, snowmobiles, pickup trucks, and plowed roads with street signs. We didn't fish there, but we walked out on a small frozen lake to ice fish inside an ice house. Heavy clothes were in order, but we were out of the cold wind with the freedom to move around, drink coffee, eat sandwiches, play cards, and at the same time catch crappie, walleye and northern. Sweet.

At daylight, the day after Christmas, we piled into our friend's pickup truck to ice fish on Minnesota's Saint Croix River. Just the thought was spooky. Moving water. A river. My heart pounded. I held my breath. He didn't seem afraid, he'd grown up on it. I gripped my coat collar and shut my eyes when he drove onto the ice without hesitation. Clunk, clunk, clunk made me open them. Was he driving over planks? "No, it's the ice," he said.

Several blocks from shore he stopped and cut the engine. All alone, what ifs raced through my head. "Come on, get out," he urged stepping onto the ice. "It's okay." Not convinced, I stepped softly holding my breath, as if that would make me lighter. Ice scrunched under my boots. Nose-nipping cold greeted my face. The ice supported the truck and us without effort.

Exhaling, I looked around and discovered one of the most beautiful mornings I've ever seen: a still, silent, sacred secret of heavy cloud cover that created a world of everything awash in shades of pale blue to slate. Stunning. I wanted to walk away, look back, and see what shade of blue the truck and our friend were, but I didn't. Stay close I thought and speculate.

While I gaped, our friend drilled a hole a foot and a half deep in the ice. Thirty-eight feet of water moved beneath. The occasional crack of the ice, like a shot, made my tummy flip, but nothing disturbed the blues. Fishing brought up a few small ones we returned to the river. It didn't matter, there'd be more fishing trips, but I might not ever again see the blues.

Copyright 2006 Red Convertible Travel Series

Holiday Feasts

From Thanksgiving to Christmas there’s a feeling of goodwill toward all. I want to do more than I have time. Who doesn’t? I’m sipping a cup of hot tea savoring a piece of dark chocolate biscotti with Ghiradelli buttons (chips), cinnamon, and Frangelico. I’ll add a smidge of cayenne to the next batch.

Memories: highlights of the past. Mom made enough divinity candy to cover the dining room table. I swiped samples all around the edge, the mint green ones were best. My girls swiped the refrigerator cookies of coconut, butter, and powdered sugar wrapped around a candied cherry … a confession of late.

Baking for family, friends and all who served blessed us twice: when the aroma filled our home, and when we shared our sweet dough tea rings, breads, cookies, candies and more.

Lillian, our dear Bohemian neighbor, taught me how to make houska: braided sweet dough with white raisins, almond slivers and bits of citron. Lithuanian friends shared a huge, scrumptious Napolean of apricot and custard between layers of wafers. I’ve always wondered about figgy pudding.

Papa laid pieces of fresh pine boughs on the basement space heater. They released their scent mingling with the baking aromas. Happy times. We sipped eggnog with fresh grated nutmeg from our silver Jefferson cups.

The nut cake was a family affair shelling mixed nuts to fill an angel food cake pan. A thin batter bound them and a few pieces of candied cherries and citron. Out of this world delicious, heavy, rich, and dense.

Our Swedish relatives liked rye bread, pickled herring, hard tack, Swedish brown beans, meatballs, cream sausage with cranberry sauce, apples cooked with cinnamon redhots, creamed onions, rice pudding with lingonberries, and plum pudding. The lutefisk cooked in cheesecloth smelled terrible. I thought it was tasteless, and needed the mustard sauce to make it edible. I must have missed the point.

Czech relatives prepared duck or turkey with liver dumplings. I loved pretzel salad with strawberries in jell-o and cream cheese mixed with whipped cream for topping. A hazelnut jellyroll with rum flavored whipped cream filling is one of my favorite desserts. Christmas Eve was oyster stew or chili. Cousin George loved oyster stew, but fed the oysters to the dog.

Pork chops and onions in red wine with heavy cream, mashed celeriac root, and chocolate mousse prepared the Suzanne Somers way made a satisfying, attractive meal on our Pistoulet dishes.

No matter what the menu, it was plentiful and a production. Grandma declared it might be the last Christmas we’d be together. True. That generation is gone. What do they eat in the hereafter?

We expanded our table with the leaves stored under the davenport. The white linen cloth was ironed, and the table set with the ivied Christmas dishes, the good silver, and goblets for Papa’s homemade wine. Henry, the three-legged cat, was reminded he was not the centerpiece.

Just when we thought we couldn’t be surprised, someone gave us a gift we hadn’t thought of but could use. Goodwill plus surprises equals Christmas.

We ate with gusto, laughed, reminisced, commented on the year past holding on to the best moments. What was to come no one knew. My silent prayer: that we’d all be together next year, same time, same place.

Copyright 2005 Red Convertible Travel Series

MSN photo

The Christ in Christmas

2005 Red Convertible Travel Series