Who's calling?

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

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

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?

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

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

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

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

"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?

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

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.

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

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

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

A Southern Fish Fry

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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. The guys 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

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?

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

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

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.

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 Red Convertible Travel Series

Tea 'til 2

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

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

Memorial Day, Wahoo, NE 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, AKA Mother Jones, said, "Pray for the dead. Fight like hell for the living."

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

Coveting the Quiche

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

“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

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

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

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

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

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

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. 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

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

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

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

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 who doesn't speak English digging with their hands .

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

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.

It was snowing Fri. morning when I got on the road. The best explanation of the driving conditions was 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

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 connects hearts forever.

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

Cemetery Studies

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

Gene's pickup was too light to navigate the snow in the Midwest. And it doesn't have front or all wheel drive. 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, but Gene went home to south Mississippi.

His 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. Snowball fights spread it across their yard. Adult neighbors came by and commented on it. People driving by stopped and frowned.

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

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series

Snowed in with Texas Rick's Spaghetti

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 fresh garlic
2 TBS Italian seasoning
1 tsp Montreal Steak seasoning
1 tsp. Tony Cacheres 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 fresh 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