Mother's Christmas Choir

...and the Angels sang, Glory to God in the Highest, and on earth Peace and Goodwill toward man. We too celebrate the "Good News" of our Saviour's birth.

Mother is immortalized in pasta. Her angels bodies are what I call "garden hose" pasta. The wings are "bow-ties" with arms of macaroni. A small wooden ball, chip off the old block, is the head. I can still see her delicately painting the faces, gluing on the tiniest pieces of pasta for hair and a small piece of colored paper for the songbook. Her timeless, delicate, works of art are part of our tradition along with our Williamsburg wish box, Pinocchios from Italy, ornaments from Mexico, pairs of birds, angels made from hankies, crocheted, porcelain and a variety of other materials, and small ornamental pillows I created by tieing french knots in patterns. In the attic there's a small tree we don't put out because the cats undecorate it's tiny wooden German ornaments. We could do "tree under glass."

Kitchen activity is a constant. We are preparing travel food for friends flying Christmas Day: Bruchetta, stuffed mushrooms, crab dip with water crackers, and dried figs and dates stuffed with cream cheese and roasted CA almonds. I tried making chocolate truffles, just as I had other years. All four batches failed to set up. Basically whipping cream, cocoa, flavoring and Suzanne Somers sweetener, they are non-fattening. I converted them to mousse. Awesome! A couple of plastic spoons and they will still have chocolate dessert.

My gratitude list is longer this year. My daughter is seeing her second Christmas. Medical statistics said she wouldn't see last year's. By the Grace of God she soldiers on toward complete healing. Praise the Lord!

One of my dreams is to visit other parts of the world over the Holidays to see how it is celebrated, or not. Whatever works. May your Holidays be filled with love and joy. Best wishes for a healthy, happy, prosperous New Year. God Bless.

copyright 2007 Red Convertible Travel Series

Jewelry Tree

A cameo from the shoe-man's wife started it all. Papa pondered what to do with it. He decided to ask other women a simple question, "I'm thinking of making a jewelry tree. Do you have a pin or a pair of earrings you'd like to donate?" And they came like a flood from friends and family all over the community. Every gift had a story. The cameo sits in the center near the top. The dangling red ones, across from it, were the neighbor, Mildred's, gift the first year she taught school. The turquoise at the base of the tree belonged to Marie from the Fairview Cafe. So much jewelry came in he created five trees. In loving memory of him and them, this one is our treasure.

copyright 2006 Red Convertible Travel Series

Claiming God's Abundance

She embroidered both to lay claim to God's flow of abundance: health, happiness, a loving man, a family, satisfying work, friends, and more than enough wealth. A world filled with good food, refreshing rest, beautiful surroundings, great books, awesome trips, dry Southwestern air, sports and strength to enjoy all. By the Grace of God it shall come to pass.

copyright 2007 Red Convertible Travel Series

WESTROADS MALL - Where is the good?

Omaha, Nebraska, December 5, 2007, tragedy at home. Not a war. Not a terrorist. A disturbed young man who wanted everyone to know it. Our Governor Heineman has ordered flags to be flown at half-staff through Sunday.

We were on West Dodge road when seven patrol cars with lights and sirens blaring charged in from the South scattering traffic ahead of us. It had to be horrific to draw that many cops. Our first thought was about President Bush's visit. Not knowing for sure, there was only one thing to do: pray for the Lord to take command of the situation, and call Silent Unity.

Where is the good in killing people at Von Maur?  We have to look for it. We find out what we're made of. People pulled together. Police and fire fighters did their best. Strangers helped strangers. In addition to our prayers and the prayers of many, Silent Unity is providing round-the-clock prayer for thirty days. You too can call them at 1-800-NOW-PRAY. There can't be too many prayers, and none are wasted.

Life. Precious. Not to be taken for granted. To be lived as if this is our last day. When I walk close with the Lord, I am able to get through anything. Do whatever works for you. God Bless.

copyright 2007 Red Convertible Travel Series

Chocolate powered dishwashers

Over last summer our three-year old neighbor girl came often to "work" - her idea. Washing our dishes was her priority. Her dad asked why she didn't wash theirs? She said she'd rather wash the neighbors. I think it's the pay. In fact, our dishes have a high neighborhood priority. The kids come in pairs and as many as four at a time. Mid-westerners take their work seriously.

Dishes washed, dried and put away, they line up for pay. I take the small, out of reach dish from the top of the microwave, and they choose a tiny piece of chocolate.

I am so lucky, I have chocolate powered dishwashers.

copyright 2007 Red Convertible Travel Series

Butterfingers & Body Parts

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It was a blast. The weather was perfect. I dressed all in black, drew whiskers on my cheeks and wore my huge black Mongolian wool hat with turned up brim and pointed top. We decorated our largest tupperware mixing bowl with pumpkins. I sat on the front steps and called to trick or treaters, "Butterfingers and body parts." Lots of takers. Adults too. The choices were ears, eyes, toes, fingers, noses and teeth. Gelatin based, I admit I ate a few.

Spiderman and a pink-haired princess stopped by. "Dorothy" from Kansas wore gingham and flashy red shoes. One kid wore a rubber mask with a rubber cigar stub looking as if he just got off a moving boxcar. The neighbor on the corner decorated to the max with tombstones and body parts emerging from his lawn. His front door was accessible through a black tunnel. Music and moaning could be heard for blocks. It was great fun. Think I'll take a break and nibble an ear.

copyright 2007 Red Convertible Travel Series

HAPPY HALLOWEEN

The dishwashers are coming!!!!!!!!

copyright 2007 Red Convertible Travel Series

500 camels and an alabaster egg

Egyptians were fascinated with Minnie's voluptuous body, huge brown eyes, and dark brown permed hair. Some asked if they could touch it. Others just walked up and did. The comments were consistent: they couldn't believe how soft it was.

We crossed the Nile at Luxor to visit the Valley of Kings and Queens, a place as old as time itself. While shopping for camel bone book marks and letter openers, an Egyptian man followed us and became smitten with Minnie. To my surprise, he approached me, "I'll give you 500 camels and an alabaster egg for her (my sister)." I almost had a distant relative.

copyright 2007 Red Convertible Travel Series

Leveled at 35,000 feet

It's 4,277 miles from New York to Rome. Minnie and I had the good fortune to fly first class upstairs in a 747. An hour and a half outside of Rome, our pilot woke us, "Good morning, this is your Captain. We have some very bad news." He got the same attention as God.

We raised the shade to see sunlight and snow on the Alps - the same view for all. Our second-floor, extra-wide seats with extra leg room to "recline" didn't give us any leverage. Our previous night's gourmet dinner on linen with "real" dishes, silver and a red carnation had no priority. The caviar, chicken livers with water chestnuts wrapped in bacon, beef chunks, green pepper and pineapple on skewers, mushrooms stuffed with sage dressing, shrimp in shredded coconut, liver pate, lettuce, spinach, artichoke and walnut salad, half a lobster cooked in a cream sauce, twice baked potato, mixed steamed veggies, kiwi fruit and cheesecake had no clout.

I imagine the sky was filled with furious prayers, beggings not to die, anxiety over dieing, meeting the Lord, and not having done what the person came to do, and the rare calm unafraid person radiating peace and light (That wasn't me.). The Captain interrupted our thoughts, "We have no water. We don't know where it went, but it's all gone. It must have leaked out across the Atlantic." Just what the ocean needs, more water.

There was an audible sigh of relief. Distinctions reinstated, I chose a breakfast of peach yogurt, fresh fruit, a sweet roll, and orange juice. A hot lemon-scented washcloth was offered. How they got it wet, we don't know. Maybe we don't want to. Our Pan Am flight attendants handed out souvenirs: emergency toothbrush, etc. so we wouldn't forget our carrier, or the leveling.

copyright 2007 Red Convertible Travel Series

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This morning, when I dabbed Egyptian oils behind my ears and on my wrists, I was reminded of our trip to Egypt. Exotic flowers gave of their all. In their pure form, without alcohol added, they do not evaporate. Their fragrance can linger for days, through baths, and indefinitely on the dresser.

The climate is hot and very dry. Humid air is heavy, odors cling. Egypt has very little humidity. The only odor we noticed was from vehicle exhaust.

When we visited the pyramids, we had to have a camel ride. There was nothing quiet about the camels. They grumbled the whole time. I suspect they would rather have been running free, but they can't get water on their own.

Notice the Bedouin is covered up. When the wind blows sand flies and stings on impact. He probably is there to offer tourists a ride. And don't forget the "baksheesh" (tip).

In all our travels, we have never seen traffic to compare with Cairo. Lanes? Optional. Horns? A must. Between the usual means of transportation were old tractors pulling flatbeds of trash to make bricks, herds of sheep and goats, and people trying to cross while we were moving, or trying to.

The Egyptians were some of the nicest people we have met. Minnie and I couldn't find our way to Khan El Khalili, the oldest bazaar in the Middle East. At one point, someone grabbed me from behind and pulled me back. Annoyed, I turned to see I was spared a squash by a city bus.

Stand on a street corner and look lost, somebody will come along and tell you where to go. And he spoke English. "You look lost. I have a fragrance shop just over there. Will you follow me?" He had good eyes. We did. With his cool drinks in hand we began to look around. "No, you don't have to buy anything," he insisted. The wall displayed pictures of him in California selling his products. Our eyes feasted on pretty bottles catching the sun's rays. Our noses sniffed exotic soul-stirring fragrances we had to have. Relieved of our Piastres and Pounds, then he called a cab.

copyright 2007 Red Convertible Travel Series

Frank does Repousse

...not to be confused with Debbie does Dallas.

At Lake Charles, Louisiana, we met Frank McDonald. Fun to be around, he has a great personality, quick deep laugh, twinkly blue eyes, can sell anything, and has lots of great stories. In the last few years he has taken up an ancient art form that dates from the Bronze Age (2800-1100 BC) called Repujado (Spanish) or Repousse (French). It is how the Statue of Liberty was made. See his website "The Art of Frank McDonald" for further explanation of the process, the types of finish, and the varieties of fish and other creations. He's good. The Loggerhead Turtle looks like it will eventually crawl off the wall.

He is making me a Black Crappie relief. They are what we fished for in Minnesota for over twenty years. One fall five of us fishing Lake Osakis found them suspended at twenty feet in forty foot of water. Our boat didn't have enough anchor rope necessitating a quick return to camp. The fish were still biting when we got back taking our bait fast as we could throw it. All of a sudden they stopped. Back at camp we poured them on the grass and counted out 76, one over our limit. We ate it.

From the pictures of Frank's work I will want to handle the finished project. It looks smooth, shiny, and won't stink or be slimy. Keep hammering, Frank, you'll get relief!

copyright 2007 Red Convertible Travel Series

Not cable, heart connections

When we lived and worked in Springfield, Missouri, a tall, lanky, former professional Nebraska cowboy, Brad Pitzer, came looking for work. His real love is pencil drawings of horses. The slightest mark on the eye tells the viewer the horse's state of mind. If you're interested in his work, leave a contact number in my comment box.

Through Cowboy Brad I met Teresa. At first glance I noticed her beautiful skin and more cleavage than is legal. I commented just on her skin. She said she was a Mary Kay consultant. If I could have skin like that, I would be, too. Enter Tawnya Krempges from Missouri who is a long-time Mary Kay director with a mile-long title. She also has beautiful skin, a ready laugh, and a wonderful positive manner. She signs her email: with unflinching belief in you. What a friend. When the two of them are together they break into song without warning. I wish I sounded that good.

While Tawnya and Teresa were here we did dream pillowcases. I dug out the stamps and pads, and colored pens. Our dreams and wishes in writing, we sleep on them. I have used this method for years on a sheet of paper slipped into my pillowcase that sounds like sleeping on potato chips. About once a year I take it out, read it, and am pleased to check off results. Miracles are expected.

If I had stayed within my comfort zone, I never would have traveled for work and made these three new life-long friends.

copyright 2006 Red Convertible Travel Series

The Prayer of Jabez

I said it over and over looking forward to how the Lord would use me to expand his territory. Traveling for work gave us many opportunities. One of my favorite experiences was when we were working in Springfield, Tennessee where dark-fired tobacco is grown.

Each morning I'd tell the Lord I was available. I went to an address to sell cable. An older gentlemen answered the door. "This is an answer to a prayer." Mine too. I was so happy he could finally get what he wanted. We did our business and I left. Down the street I realized I had stopped at the right house number, but I was on the wrong street.

There were times I believed door-to-door work was just a cover. I went to a retired woman's home and noticed her front door hinge pins were coming out. I told her if she had a hammer, I'd fix it. She did. I did. We laughed.

At one door the woman answered almost in tears. I asked what was wrong. She said her husband had passed a couple of days ago. I put my arms around her and cried with her.

One woman had a plate of cheese on the coffee table. When she left to get her checkbook she said, "Now Mike, don't bother the cheese." I looked around for a child. Quick as a flash the cat grabbed the cheese and ran off. She said he had been a restaurant cat and would eat anything, but didn't particularly care for sauerkraut.

We made so many friends those six years, and fed so many hungry people. A Vietnam vet in Nashville befriended us where we parked our motorhome. We saw him again in January. He was ill and in short sleeves. Without a moment's hesitation, JB gave him his coat and some money.

Last Sunday Pastor Patrick read a list of terrible things that would happen around the world in the hour we were in church. He looked up and said, "What are we doing here? We should be out there working for the Lord." I could have jumped up and shouted. In a Southern church, I would have.

When we pay attention and listen, we can be of use expanding His territory anywhere.

copyrigh 2007 Red Convertible Travel Series

Tawnya & Teresa, True Friends, Food 'n Fun

The last month has been spent tripping up and down the stairs with JB on one floor and Kris on the other. And, yes, I did trip. It was so hot I was thinking of snow, Dr. Zhivago to be exact, and I skied the basement stairs. Not a good idea.

I like to reread Gone With the Wind in April and watch Dr. Zhivago in the dog days of summer. When he studies the frozen designs on the window I remember there's more to life than shoveling.

Confined to "home duty" two of my Missouri girlfriends made a surprise visit. What a delight. We laughed, watched movies, cooked and ate for two days. Tawnya made a baked crab dip to die for with cream cheese, mayo, chopped artichoke hearts, diced onions, crisp bacon broken to bits, parmesan cheese, and spiced it with Worcestershire, chili powder, salt and pepper. We ate it with and without crackers.

For one of our meals we made Suzanne Somers Chicken Piccata with squeezed lemon and capers. We sliced red, yellow and green peppers, mushrooms, zucchini, summer squash and red onion and sauteed all in a smidge of olive oil seasoned with fresh parsley, basil and oregano from my garden. Served on my happy Pistoulet dishes it was a feast for the eyes too.

Tawnya loves breakfast. She scrambled nine eggs for the three of us with onions, green pepper and more cream cheese. I feel so good after a meal of natural fats rather than foods that turn to sugar like potatoes and rice. We had homemade guacamole and put peach salsa on top. Chocolate Velvet coffee tasted great and made the kitchen smell so good.

Teresa really wanted to taste the lemon curd, and fresh pesto, but we forgot. I had homemade gazpacho we didn't get around to either. My decadent dark chocolate Texas sheetcake with cinnamon and cayenne went untouched. That's okay. We're planning a next time.

copyright 2007 Red Convertible Travel Series

SOCKEYE for Six

Alaska isn't on our travel itinerary at this time, but it is for a friend of ours. He and his friends took their "bear bells" to wear, and flew to Alaska to fish. I went to the fresh seafood counter at Baker's in Omaha.

JB said he didn't like salmon. I think it was just my patties he doesn't like. When the Dr. said he had to have Omega3, she recommended lots of fish, salmon in particular. I wondered how I'd get it down him.
They grocer had pond-raised salmon that were pale next to Alaska's bright salmon-colored wild Sockeye. I bought a pound and a half at $9.99 a lb., and baked them in parchment paper according to a recipe from Suzanne Somers Fast and Easy book.

On the paper, for each fillet, I placed two slices of lemon and half a teaspoon of butter, and added a sprig of my garden fresh tarragon. I salt and peppered the skin placing it down on the lemons. Salt and peppered the top, and added a heap of chopped onion to each. Folded up and over, they baked on a cookie sheet for twenty minutes at 400 degrees.

We had a feast. Delicious! What little was left we shared with our two cats. Madchen would have nothing to do with it. Schatzie was thrilled, ate his and raced through the house. Her bites went to the outside cat we occasionally feed, and the balance we mixed with cream cheese to spread on crackers. We got our money's worth. This recipe is a keeper. JB just came to the kitchen looking for more spread. All gone.

copyright 2007 Red Convertible Travel Series.

Sunday at the pit

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The 400 mile fishing trip to Alexandria, Minnesota used to be the highlight of our summer. Now we drive twenty to Jim & Carol's cabin on a sandpit off the Platte River and have just as much fun without the work of packing, unpacking, packing and unpacking. We took a lot of food for a ride.

The Platte River ranges from trickle-width to a mile wide. Shallow, but tricky, it has surprised many a person with a swift current that made a deeper pool and stole their life. And there's quicksand - bottomless sucking sand. Crossing the Platte I noticed three air boats lined up on the south bank as if set to race across - about a block. With their powerful and extra loud engines they'd be in North Bend before they could stop.

We are a High Plains state in the "breadbasket of America". Nebraska farmers raise corn, wheat, and soybeans in abundance with the help of irrigation. I'd like a quilt of an aerial photo of our summer fields: shades of green, brown, and wheat gold, center pivot crop circles, the few trees around farmsteads, and straight roads with square sections unlike Minnesota and Mississippi.

Nebraska is one of eight states atop the Oglala, one of the world's largest aquifers (reservoirs). Its estimated age is from 2 to 6 millions years. According to U. S. Water News Online it's the deepest in Nebraska's sand hills in the northwest area of the state.

Our population is concentrated in the east. Sand pits are created by dredging sand for commercial use creating lakes the size of Paul Bunyan's pinky. Legend has it that it in Minnesota he stepped and created lakes - 10,000 of them. Sounds more like he clogged.

Jim and Carol dwarfed their cabin adding an over-sized deck with pergola. They don't do anything small. He's 6'9" with a sense of humor that goes all the way to the top. I stretch to be 5'5" and call him my two-step step-son. I have to stand up two to talk to him. Sweetcorn for dinner isn't an ear or two, it's a dozen. The only thing small in their life is Maddy, a little poodle.

The inner tubes Jim inflated were tractor size. Imagine that. We fiddled around trying to decide how to get in. I opted for the dock. Carol held it while I eased my booty into the middle without flipping and hung my legs and arms over. The water was cold in places and warm in others. Refreshing. Relaxing. Maddy wore her life jacket with leash attached but preferred to sit on Jim's shoulder. Neighbors yards were adorned with moving whirly-gigs to keep the geese from eating their new grass and making deposits.

Hunger nagged. Should we walk to the shallow area and roll out? Jim suggested placing a tall ladder in the water at the dock so I could climb out, up, over the top and down the other side. You first. I moved to shallow water, Carol held the tube, and I popped out.

Carol, our favorite daughter-in-law, is a great cook. Other years we had fresh fried crappie or walleye, new potatoes, peas and dill weed in a cream sauce and peach dumplings with ice cream for dessert. This year I brought fried chicken. She sauteed onion, garlic and portabella mushrooms, added chicken broth and rice. Delicious. Rhubarb crisp was dessert with vanilla ice cream. Sour, rhubarb needs lots of sugar. I love it. The roto-rooter of the bowels, it needs to be eaten in moderation.

It was a great mini-vacation, and I got to sleep in my own bed.

copyright 20007 Red Convertible Travel Series

HAPPY 4TH OF JULY

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Watermelon is as much the 4th of July as fireworks. Bite into it's refreshing coldness. The juice slips down your chin, your elbows, the front of your shirt. Everything gets sticky.

At a picnic we watched a man spit a couple watermelon seeds down the front of a woman's blouse. She didn't say anything, but her eyes narrowed in anger. We could tell she was thinking how to get even. She circled behind him, wrapped her slice around his neck and squeezed.

Whatever you do, celebrate freedom. It's ours and it's precious.

copyright 2007 Red Convertible Travel Series

Cause to Celebrate

My daughter had an appointment with her Oncologist this week after a two month break. It wracks her nerves. She worries about the needles and results. I trust she is healing. In my gut I know it.

Dr. Stephen Thome was busy and late, she got bored and walked around the office swinging her purse like we women do. When she returned he was behind her. She looked back surprising him. He was stunned, couldn't believe how easily she was moving. When she told him all the things she'd done in the last two months he looked at me wide-eyed, "It's a miracle". Considering he met her in late August, 2006 when she was flat on her broken back in screaming pain, it is. All I could say was, "By the Grace of God". He jumped up and left to tell the nurses station the good news. Throughout her exam he oohed and aahed at her overall improvement and doesn't need to see her for three months. Much joy throughout. We left amidst a flood of warm smiles.

At home we had a grateful hearts celebration: chunks of cantaloupe wrapped in Prosciutto; sips of James Arthur Vineyard's Seyval, a Nebraska white table wine; homemade organic chicken salad and baby lettuce served in bakery fresh flaky croissants. We took our time. Savored every bite. Smiled a lot. For dessert I served Marscapone in footed crystal with slices of huge, fresh, California, Driscoll, organic strawberries that tasted like sunshine. JAV 2 Brothers white table wine has a little effervescence and slightly sweeter taste. It was perfect sipped over a piece of melting dark mint chocolate.

Dr. Thome has the perfect bedside manner and expertise for her. The Chiropractor who saved her life twice, Dr. Ray Klepinger, continues to work on her with the Pro-Adjuster system used on Olympic athletes. PT Dr. Nick Wissink is outstanding at waking her muscles and strengthening her body. She couldn't be in better hands. There is progress to prove it. Praise the Lord.

Miracles for her are being worked through many people in many ways. We pray they continue. No prayer is wasted. Thank you one and all. God bless.

copyright 2007 Red Convertible Travel Series

Remembering

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Memorial Day: the day set aside to remember those who fought and died for freedom; those who fought and survived; those who sacrificed to support them; and family and friends who died unrelated to wars. Thank you all for your contribution to life.

We hang our flag and remember receiving one when Papa died. He did his time in the Pacific Theatre of WWII. For the past two weeks JB has been a patient at the VA hospital in Omaha, NE. He's amazed the operating surgeons visit him everyday. Dedicated staff, they live and breathe their work. Over all, it's been a positive experience. We are grateful. God Bless them.

copyright 2007 Red Convertible Travel Series

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY 2007

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Mothers of all life, this is our day.

Whether you lay eggs or give live birth,

we are all one.

God Bless

One of our cards read, "It's as if the doors of Heaven have been opened for a while." True.

Baby powder, Johnson's baby soap, tiny warm breaths, red lips, long dark lashes, and a mass of dark hair were just as Grandma predicted. I felt instant overwhelming love, as if I'd known her forever. Her helplessness matched my protectiveness.

Fast forward. Devastating news: cancer broke her back. She wouldn't live to see Christmas 2006. "This is not fatal, it's just a glitch in my system. I am not a statistic," she replied. I believed her. Her late father had come to her in a dream and told her she was not dying from this. He confirmed my gut feeling that she not only survives, she thrives and moves into a full life.

The morning after I received the diagnosis I awoke to see her cradled in Jesus Christ's arms with two tall ministering Angels working on her. Jesus told me he would carry her and see her through. She couldn't be in better hands. Thank you Lord.

To the outer world she and I stand strong in faith, two anchored trees in a hurricane of doubters. I stopped my life to breathe life into hers. Countless prayers from friends, family and people we will never know sustain and encourage us. Humor and gratitude are soul food.

By the Grace of God she not only lives, she improves steadily. It's May. This week she drove for the first time in over a year. No more screaming pain. She weaned herself off pain meds that messed with her mind. Her will isn't tough-as-nails, it's tough-as-railroad spikes.

Our Pastor says it's miraculous what the Lord has done, and is doing in her. The blessings are huge and many, and they keep coming. Her Oncologist, Chiropractor and Physical Therapist are each outstanding in their field. She hopes people see her life and healing as proof that God does care, and works for, in and through us. Without Him we are nothing.

copyright 2007 Red Convertible Travel Series

EASTER 2007

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Easter Preparation 2007

Christ's Cruxifiction and Resurrection are God's gift of Grace to mankind. We celebrate with praise at early youth services with lilies that make us sneeze, and breakfast and/or a special choir presentation at morning worship, our table set with our best cloth and place settings, baked ham, and a coconut covered lamb cake. This year we spread melted chocolate on Matzo and chopped cashews similar to what Martha Stewart did. Of course, there are the colored and decorated eggs to hide and hunt, and displayed hollow ones with purple inked designs.

Wed. of last week our three-year old friend came for a visit. I asked if she had new clothes for Easter church. She said, "No." I asked if they were going to church? Munching a grape she looked furtively side to side before shaking her head no. Assuming I hadn't heard, she leaned forward and whispered, "Jesus is dead." [There's no need to go ] In due time she will learn the rest of the story.

However you celebrate, may your heart be filled with gratitude and joy.

Peace.

coyright 2007 Red Convertible Travel Series

PRE-EASTER PREPARATION

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Who dyed all those eggs?

2007 Red Convertible Travel Series

The Connemara Theatre

HAPPY SAINT PATRICK'S DAY!

Our Galway, Ireland, B&B host was a carpenter. He had traveled to Russia with a group to teach them how to use certain power tools and equipment. First they had to show them how to put the wheel on the wheelbarrow. They were using the 'barrow' without the wheel.

Breakfast options included porridge, eggs, thick bacon, black or white pudding, toasted or fried bread and tea. We bid our farewell and headed for a drive through the Connemara, one of Ireland's thousands of years old peat bogs. At other Irish bogs we watched locals cut brick-sized pieces to heat their homes and cook stoves. No one was cutting here. In fact, we didn't see a soul or a native Connemara pony.

The road is a wavy ribbon. Left, drive left. It feels spongy, as if it has shock absorbers. The terrain is rough, rocky, mountainous, desolate, spooky, timeless, and was saturated in gloomy, damp weather: a blank canvas for life. Only the names change, but it was a field day for our imaginations. Who would come over the rise: medieval warriors, star wars characters, giants or "the little people"? An oasis. We needed and oasis of 'still' mineral water, rhubarb & ginger preserves , teacakes, Galtee cheese, and Cadbury's chocolate. In our imaginations we had it all.

Here at home I'd like to have a brick of peat to make a little fire to roast marshmallows, but if I have to wait for my landscaping to turn to peat, the marshmallows will be too hard. Peat is like sauerkraut, it isn't made overnight.

WE LOVE IRELAND!!!

copyright 2007 Red Convertible Travel Series

Working Rocks

JB is a good provider. He came with a variety of meats: venison hot tamales made in Arkansas by our friend, Hov, a former head Chef at the Silver dome in Detroit, Michigan; assorted wild hog parts the butcher will process; wild hog neck stew with lots of vegetables; venison tenderloin; a two-foot long venison sausage; and two chicken breasts from the motorhome freezer. Our seven-year dormant deep freeze rose to the call of electricity and is working just fine.

He brought his laundry, imagine that, an iron skillet for cornbread - it doesn't taste the same in anything else, and a bag of rocks. They are not gemstones prized for their brilliance, they are working rocks, the suspenders of the earth. In February JB's friend drilled a well at Bobo Brake, Mississippi - not far from Alligator, when the Midwest was colder than a well-digger's destination.

The digger unearthed palm-sized and smaller rocks from one hundred feet. Intrigued, JB asked for some. One is dark orange, another black, one off-white, and the rest are shades of gray. Some have worn marks: water makes. Who knows how old they are.

Everything has a vibration. They bare the sound of rapidly moving water, lots of it. The Mississippi River is thousands of years old. In its unrestrained wanderings across the Delta it left deposits of soil, rocks and God knows what before the Levees were built to contain it. I wonder where these rocks began? My friend, Frances, sums it up best, "They're part of the great mystery of life."

2007 Red Convertible Travel Series

Taking our spaghetti for a ride

We had a whiteout blizzard yesterday that dropped a foot of snow. High winds continue rearranging it. Footage of nature's gift to Watertown, NY, puts us to shame. They wouldn't be impressed with our piddly nuisance amount even though it closed the interstates in Eastern Nebraska and 100 miles into Western Iowa. Omaha's Westside High's girl's basketball team HAD to get to Lincoln for the state tournament. Forget hell an high water, they maneuvered snow closed roads and whiteouts to make it, play and win. It will be talked about for years.

When Minnie and I traveled through southern Canada we noticed few garages. A local said it was no use. When snow piled up they couldn't open the doors. Radiator heaters stood ready. Ropes connected houses and barns. Some houses had built-ons connecting to the barn. Rachael Ray says another month of winter means four more feet of snow and three more power outages. We thought it was rough when Minnie lived in St. Paul, Minnesota with its two seasons: shovel and swat. Further north is worse.

Fall foliage of the Northeast was our destination in '98. We had all kinds of plans to see, do and taste, but that's another story. I will say Cracker Barrel in Watertown was the first Cracker Barrel we've stopped at that had a Reuben sandwich. It was good. So was Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream at their plant. We'd reserved a condo at Smuggler's Notch, Vermont, and another at Lake Winnipesaukee, New Hampshire. Kitchens mean we take food. Since it was fall we packed fresh tomatoes unaware they could be confiscated, not leaving the US, but getting back in.

Northwest of Watertown, NY we crossed over the St. Lawrence River's high arched bridge onto an island for customs processing. There was no getting off unless approved. I was driving. The official looking official asked where we were from. Before I could answer Minnie hollered, "Wahoo!"
I gasped.
He asked, "Where we were going?"
She burst out, "Smuggler's Notch, Vermont!"
I cringed
"Are you related?" .
"Sisters!"
He bust out laughing. "I'll bet you two have a lot of fun. Get out of here."
We say Minnie confettied customs.

As for our spaghetti and tomatoes, we never took them out of the box, they were just along for the ride.

copyright 2007 Red Convertible Travel Series

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY, LOVE

ABOUT CHOCOLATE

When you're not around

chocolate must do

confidentially speaking

no substitute

for you!

MSN photo

copyright 2007 Red Convertible Travel Series

Hog Hanging Weather

Our weather is brutal -below zero with snow on the ground. The sun is bright, but the snow isn't going anywhere. It's "stay inside and make soup" weather. When we were kids on the farm the bitter cold cured the meat hanging from the rafters of the granary where nothing could reach it, and no flies were stirring.

Our hogs were in the 200 to 250 pound range. I can't image how many buckets of lard were on the long-bodied, short-legged, 1,000 pound hog we saw at the Iowa state fair. The wild hogs we see behind the Mississippi Levee have longer legs, tusks and a lot less lard.

Grandpa and Grandma came out to help and share in the bounty. He made sure the handsaws were sharp to work through the bones. We'd come home from school to the smell of lard rendering on the cook stove, the sound of white butcher paper crackling to wrap around fresh meat for the freezer, the squeaky crayon labeling and dating the packages, and the anticipation of wonderful meals Mom would be fixing. We felt prosperous with meat "put up" and our pantry full of canned and frozen vegetables.

Besides the usual cuts of meat, Mom cooked the head down, chopped all fine and molded it in a bread pan: head cheese. Thinly sliced with a dribble of vinegar it was a delicacy. I prefer the chops, hams and ribs, and pork shanks cooked with beans. At an early age our nephew liked liver and onions and rhubarb pie. I thought they were tastes that took fifty years to acquire.

Another neighbor family canned meat so they'd have a jar for each day of the year. Mom and Dad canned until a jar blew up in the canner. Bits of meat and glass were found on the outside of the kitchen window, behind the cook stove, on the ceiling, and everywhere in between. Fortunately no one was hurt.

Papa liked cracklings, lard with a little meat cooked down tiny bits of crisp meat. Give him a piece of fresh rye bread and some cracklings, and he was happy. During the Great Depression our neighbor friend, Hazel, took lard sandwiches to school. It didn't kill her. She and Hank just celebrated their 60th anniversary.

Mom taught us to make pie crust with lard, fry our fresh roosters in it, pork chops, donuts, and mix it in breads, rolls, and whatever didn't call for butter. Lard still makes the best pie crust, kolaches and seasoning for peas and greens anytime of year.

copyright 2007 Red Convertible Travel Series

Jefferson in a bottle

When Minnie and her family lived in Charlottesville, Virginia, they were ten minutes from Monticello (little mountain), the home of Thomas Jefferson, third President of the United States of America. We visited it in the summer and at Christmas.

Born April 13, 1743 Jefferson died July 4, 1826. A remarkable man, at 33 he drafted the Declaration of Independence. I can hear his quill pen scratch the parchment, and see his brow furrowed choosing the right words to declare freedom for the colonies. My Virginia quill pen sits in buckshot in a sterling silver container. We speak of Jefferson every Christmas season when we drink eggnog from our sterling silver Jefferson cups (no handles).

If I could talk to him, I'd thank him for the Louisiana Purchase in 1803 - Nebraska was carved from it. A man of vision, he encouraged Lewis and Clark's expedition. Go for it, he'd say. I'd thank him for recycling. He created the Great Clock by his front door: a seven-day mechanism of leftover Revolutionary Cannonballs and a ladder to reset it once a week. Passionate about education he established the University of Virginia. Wherever he saw a need he saw a solution.

Jefferson was a gracious host. Whoever stopped by was invited to dine with him. From Marie Kimball's editing of his recipes menu options included pigeon soup, stewed rabbit, fish cooked with potatoes, imported squash and broccoli from Italy, varieties of homegrown beans, or his favorite, English peas accompanied by wine from the grapes in his vineyard. He imported Italian oils and French mustard, used vanilla and macaroni, and had the first ice cream freezer. Vegetables were his preference, meat an accompaniment. With such variety, how many meals were shorted by servants transporting food from the kitchen to the mechanical dumbwaiter before a bell was attached to each transporter? Tinkling meant no sampling. I would have loved to partake and oh, the conversation.

He had a sense of humor. James Monroe decided to build his home on another mountain top. They would communicate with lanterns; no frustration with, "Can you hear me now?" Jefferson designed Ash Lawn for Monroe and had it built while he was away. The design included an optical illusion. Imagine Monroe's surprise when he had to duck leaving his new home. Jefferson said that was so he had to bow to Monticello.

A "can do" man, Jefferson built his bed between two walls, and had it made up with a pole. Depending on his mood he could get out of bed in his library, or in his bedroom. Clever. He is credited with a long list of inventions: a portable copying press, automated double doors, book stand, lap desk, coffee urn, and wooden plow board to name a few. I'd ask him to invent a "silent", light-weight vacuum that sucks.

It would depend which side of the bed he got out on whether he'd talk about his differences with Alexander Hamilton. I'd tread lightly. If he screwed up his face, I'd change the subject. How are your cherry trees doing?

In the heat of summer, amidst hundreds of tourists, we toured the grounds and lost our daughters. Parent panic! Thirty minutes later we found them studying the cemetery. They weren't lost, they said, we were too slow.

Boredom doesn't exist for me. There is so much to learn and do. When I leave this world, I'm going to sit on a cloud, eat seedless grapes, and study the man I'd like to call friend, Thomas Jefferson.

copyright 2007 Red Convertible Travel Series

It was a Happy New Year's!

We ended 2006 with salmon and marinated artichoke hearts over spinach and plain fettuccini noodles drizzled with olive oil; grated parmesan atop.

Rumaging through Mom's old recipes, I found hers for Grasshopper Pie. The 3x5 card is stained from buttery hands. The handwriting is childish, and there's a yellow cookoo clock on the right side with a bluebird on the perch wearing a chef's hat. She let us girls cook as soon as we could pull a chair up to the table. My first baking experience was gingerbread. I mixed it up and poured it in the pan along with the spoon, which she didn't discover until she couldn't cut it.

The Grasshopper Pie recipe calls for 14 finely crushed oreos. I put out extras - for me. Mix the crushed oreos with 2 tablespoons of melted butter. Set aside a small amount for topping. Pat the rest into a 9" pie plate to establish the crust. In the top of a double boiler melt 24 large marshmallows with 1/2 cup milk. Cool. The recipe calls for 1 ounce of white creme de cocoa and 2 ounces green creme de menthe. I half each. When the marshallow/milk mixture is partially set, add 1 cup whipped cream. I whip 1/2 cup of cream and fold in gently. Pour over the crust. Sprinkle top with reserved crumbs. Refrigerate until ready to serve. Thanks Mom for the love of cooking.

I bought the Galway crystal champagne glasses with engraved cladagh when Minnie and I visited Ireland in March of 2000. We really did hear Willie Nelson songs on St. Pat's Day. Kris and I toasted "Good Cheer, Health, Wealth andHappiness", and brought in the New Year sipping Martini and Rossi. Watching the ball drop in Time's Square, and celebrations around the world was a mini-vacation, and we got to sleep in our own beds.

Happy New Year to you, and may it be a year to celebrate.

copyright 2007 Red Convertible Travel Series