A few of Elizabeth's first litter.
I want that boot!
Buckshot mines the yard.
Buckshot marks the yard with recycled fleece.Sunday, December 30, 2012
Puppy Pics
I want that boot!Buckshot marks the yard with recycled fleece.
Back Door Doggie Diner
Buckshot, has many friends. He's our Feists/Terrier mix. Across the street, puppy Haze, sits at her front door watching for him. He sits at our low living room window looking for her. For a while they came and went through her bendable gate. Now there's a cement block against it. We tried penning the two in her backyard, but Buckshot slipped out, and we can't figure out where.
Lucky, the short-legged, round-bodied dog down the street, wants to play, too, but he's leashed and loudly protests it. Boo, the black, long-haired Chihuahua lives next door and can't wait to get to our yard and make his mini-markings after Buckshot. He is so short and fast, he appears to be skimming the grass not running in it. And then there's mini-Callie, the black Dachshund. Her coat is shiny and soft. She came for a play date in the house and barked too loud and moved too fast for Buckshot. Guess what he did? Sat on her.
And then there's Elizabeth, Buckshot's first love. She deserves her own paragraph. Outweighing him by at least fifteen pounds, they learned their first lessons of love last spring. He had been fixed, but the desire was still there. When she went into estrus, he wanted to "do" something for her, but he couldn't figure out where. He was all around her until he figured out under the tail was where the action was. Try as he might, he wasn't tall enough, even when he stood on one leg on his tiptoes. She gave birth to sixteen puppies. None were his, of course. When he finally got to see her, he had eyes for her only. One of the puppies sunk her teeth into his leash and held him. He couldn't figure out why he couldn't move. Not long ago, Elizabeth's keeper took her to be spade. It was too late. Another litter's on the way.
What do all these dogs have in common? Wholesome Holistic Treats For Dogs. I bought them at Walmart and share them at our backdoor. They are healthy dog biscuits fortified with vitamins and minerals free of animal by-product meals, artificial color and preservatives. Made with chicken, wheat, peas, cranberries, carrots and apples, they are shaped into drumsticks, carrots, and apples about two inches long. They smell delicious. In an emergency . . . Callie gets the tip of the tip of a carrot shape. Boo gets the whole tip. Buckshot has to have the drumstick and carrot shapes snapped in two and the apple quartered, but only one treat at a time. Haze is taller than he, but shorter than Elizabeth. These two leap for the whole piece, and Elizabeth asks for second and thirds.
I took an eight cup Ziplock box of deer neck stew out of the freezer last week. There wasn't room in the refrigerator for it, so I set it on top of the shelves outside the backdoor and went about my day. I heard a clatter that was too late for reindeer, looked out and saw Elizabeth hauling it off. I wasn't about to come between a dog and her food. She consumed the contents in record time. I couldn't be mad at her. New mom's have to keep up their strength.
If JB hadn't insisted Buckshot come home with us a year ago, we wouldn't have a community dog yard with treats. And I would be short of dog stories to share.
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
Lucky, the short-legged, round-bodied dog down the street, wants to play, too, but he's leashed and loudly protests it. Boo, the black, long-haired Chihuahua lives next door and can't wait to get to our yard and make his mini-markings after Buckshot. He is so short and fast, he appears to be skimming the grass not running in it. And then there's mini-Callie, the black Dachshund. Her coat is shiny and soft. She came for a play date in the house and barked too loud and moved too fast for Buckshot. Guess what he did? Sat on her.
And then there's Elizabeth, Buckshot's first love. She deserves her own paragraph. Outweighing him by at least fifteen pounds, they learned their first lessons of love last spring. He had been fixed, but the desire was still there. When she went into estrus, he wanted to "do" something for her, but he couldn't figure out where. He was all around her until he figured out under the tail was where the action was. Try as he might, he wasn't tall enough, even when he stood on one leg on his tiptoes. She gave birth to sixteen puppies. None were his, of course. When he finally got to see her, he had eyes for her only. One of the puppies sunk her teeth into his leash and held him. He couldn't figure out why he couldn't move. Not long ago, Elizabeth's keeper took her to be spade. It was too late. Another litter's on the way.
What do all these dogs have in common? Wholesome Holistic Treats For Dogs. I bought them at Walmart and share them at our backdoor. They are healthy dog biscuits fortified with vitamins and minerals free of animal by-product meals, artificial color and preservatives. Made with chicken, wheat, peas, cranberries, carrots and apples, they are shaped into drumsticks, carrots, and apples about two inches long. They smell delicious. In an emergency . . . Callie gets the tip of the tip of a carrot shape. Boo gets the whole tip. Buckshot has to have the drumstick and carrot shapes snapped in two and the apple quartered, but only one treat at a time. Haze is taller than he, but shorter than Elizabeth. These two leap for the whole piece, and Elizabeth asks for second and thirds.
I took an eight cup Ziplock box of deer neck stew out of the freezer last week. There wasn't room in the refrigerator for it, so I set it on top of the shelves outside the backdoor and went about my day. I heard a clatter that was too late for reindeer, looked out and saw Elizabeth hauling it off. I wasn't about to come between a dog and her food. She consumed the contents in record time. I couldn't be mad at her. New mom's have to keep up their strength.
If JB hadn't insisted Buckshot come home with us a year ago, we wouldn't have a community dog yard with treats. And I would be short of dog stories to share.
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
Monday, December 24, 2012
Christmas 2012 No End-of-the-World to report
Perry Como is singing "That Christmas Feeling" in our living room.. Madchen, with her sticking-out-every-direction orange hair and huge white ruff, naps her ample body on my three-ring binder on the desk. She's holding down my excitement. The draft of my Young Adult novel Up and Out will be ready for queries after the first of the year. My editor wrote, "You have written a novel. Congratulations! Enjoy the moment and then get back to work. There are no published writers, only published re-writers." I'm up to the challenge.
There's been an uneasiness about 12/21/12. I admit, I was a little concerned until I felt led to go about business as usual and make plans for next year. Only God knows what's what, when, where, why and how. If this world comes to an end, maybe there's a better one taking its place: A knowing among all life that we are all connected. All life living together in peace and harmony. Each person recognizing, acknowledging and working cooperatively with their God-Self. Earth is treated with respect and appreciation for giving us a place to live, food and water.
Whatever happens, our lives go on uninterrupted, whether we wear skin or not. Only the body dies. I can witness to this. For over thirty years, I've worked with the deceased. Their body died, but their life didn't skip a beat. I help those who are stuck go on to the Light.
12/21/12 came and went. Life goes on. Merry Christmas and best wishes for the best New Year ever!
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
There's been an uneasiness about 12/21/12. I admit, I was a little concerned until I felt led to go about business as usual and make plans for next year. Only God knows what's what, when, where, why and how. If this world comes to an end, maybe there's a better one taking its place: A knowing among all life that we are all connected. All life living together in peace and harmony. Each person recognizing, acknowledging and working cooperatively with their God-Self. Earth is treated with respect and appreciation for giving us a place to live, food and water.
Whatever happens, our lives go on uninterrupted, whether we wear skin or not. Only the body dies. I can witness to this. For over thirty years, I've worked with the deceased. Their body died, but their life didn't skip a beat. I help those who are stuck go on to the Light.
12/21/12 came and went. Life goes on. Merry Christmas and best wishes for the best New Year ever!
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Newtown, CT and Clarksdale, MS commonality
Who would have thought the two would stand in the same sentence? Newtown is an Andy Griffith type community. Homey. Comfortable. Safe. Clarksdale is Deep South America. Mannerly men and soft-spoken women. Old homes with expansive porches and pillars. Visitors come from around the world to see and experience where "The Blues" began.
When the school children and staff were killed, the shots were heard around the world. When a local 80 year old woman's home was broken into in Clarksdale, she was robbed, beaten to death and set on fire. And the suspect stole her car. It all makes us sick. All life is connected. When one hurts, we all hurt. Patrick Marshall, Pastor of the First Presbyterian Church of Wahoo, NE, says, "Make your concern active: Do something to comfort the living." They are creating a banner for locals to sign. Cards and letter, money, toys and other items are headed their way and from many other communities, too.
I found this article comforting. If you can't access it as is, copy and paste.
http://lightworkers.org/channeling/173312/message-matthew-december-15-2012
Grace, Love and Peace to all.
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
When the school children and staff were killed, the shots were heard around the world. When a local 80 year old woman's home was broken into in Clarksdale, she was robbed, beaten to death and set on fire. And the suspect stole her car. It all makes us sick. All life is connected. When one hurts, we all hurt. Patrick Marshall, Pastor of the First Presbyterian Church of Wahoo, NE, says, "Make your concern active: Do something to comfort the living." They are creating a banner for locals to sign. Cards and letter, money, toys and other items are headed their way and from many other communities, too.
I found this article comforting. If you can't access it as is, copy and paste.
http://lightworkers.org/channeling/173312/message-matthew-december-15-2012
Grace, Love and Peace to all.
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
Sunday, December 09, 2012
The X in Christmas
I was accused of being lazy when I used Xmas for Christmas. Patrick Marshall, our Pastor at the First Presbyterian Church in Wahoo, NE, wrote about its history in the December newsletter.
"Centuries ago, when Christianity first started taking root and growing, the dominant language of our faith was Greek (the whole New Testament was written in Greek). In Greek, the word for Christ is Christo. The Greek alphabet doesn't have a C in it. So when you want to say Christo, you had to use the Greek letter X, which was pronounced Chi (not ch like chair, but more like the ch in how we say Christ). In Greek then, the word Christ looked like this: Xpistou.
"When it became illegal to be a Christian and the Roman Empire started persecuting, arresting, and killing Christians, they had to be a little more discreet about the fact that they were talking about Jesus. So instead of spelling out his name, they would simply abbreviate it with an X, the first letter in Chirst. When the Roman Emperor Constantine made Christianity legal in 313 A.D., he did so, in part, becuase he had a vision before a major battle of a shield in the sky with Greek letters XP on it (chi and rho, the first two letters of Christ).
"So for over 1700 years, the letter X has been used by Christians as an abbreviation for Christ. The word Xmas, then, is not an attempt to take Christ out of Christmas. Christ is right there in it. You have to look for him.
". . . Christmas (and Christianity) isn't about finding Christ in the obvious places. We have to search for him in this world and in our lives. Because then and now, God always shows up where we least expect him: in a manger; a conversation with a friend, or in something as simple as a letter. Merry Christmas."
Merry Xmas and Best Wishes for the New Year.
Grace, Peace and Plenty to you and yours now and always.
Love,
Maeann
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
"Centuries ago, when Christianity first started taking root and growing, the dominant language of our faith was Greek (the whole New Testament was written in Greek). In Greek, the word for Christ is Christo. The Greek alphabet doesn't have a C in it. So when you want to say Christo, you had to use the Greek letter X, which was pronounced Chi (not ch like chair, but more like the ch in how we say Christ). In Greek then, the word Christ looked like this: Xpistou.
"When it became illegal to be a Christian and the Roman Empire started persecuting, arresting, and killing Christians, they had to be a little more discreet about the fact that they were talking about Jesus. So instead of spelling out his name, they would simply abbreviate it with an X, the first letter in Chirst. When the Roman Emperor Constantine made Christianity legal in 313 A.D., he did so, in part, becuase he had a vision before a major battle of a shield in the sky with Greek letters XP on it (chi and rho, the first two letters of Christ).
"So for over 1700 years, the letter X has been used by Christians as an abbreviation for Christ. The word Xmas, then, is not an attempt to take Christ out of Christmas. Christ is right there in it. You have to look for him.
". . . Christmas (and Christianity) isn't about finding Christ in the obvious places. We have to search for him in this world and in our lives. Because then and now, God always shows up where we least expect him: in a manger; a conversation with a friend, or in something as simple as a letter. Merry Christmas."
Merry Xmas and Best Wishes for the New Year.
Grace, Peace and Plenty to you and yours now and always.
Love,
Maeann
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
Sunday, December 02, 2012
McCarty's Pottery & Gallery Restaurant
If you have people on your Christmas list who like pottery, check out mccartyspottery.com/faq.html
Last October Jani and I visited their shop at Merigold, MS, in what was originally a mule barn. Shoppers were shoulder to shoulder, and they were buying.
Should you be on the premises, be sure to visit the gardens. Decades of work have gone into them.
If you want an elegant lunch, their Gallery Restaurant is worth it. We were served without a reservation, but there were other's present who had made them. www.mccartyspottery.com/gallery.html
The bunny is McCartys, too.
The dark stripe on the cup represents the MS River.
Vegetable soup. Tasty.
We chose the shrimp enchilada with creamed spinach and Merigold tomatoes.
For dessert we shared a footed pottery goblet of Chocolate Cobbler with ice cream. It was a large serving and awesome. It served our chocolate fix for the day.
Last October Jani and I visited their shop at Merigold, MS, in what was originally a mule barn. Shoppers were shoulder to shoulder, and they were buying.
Should you be on the premises, be sure to visit the gardens. Decades of work have gone into them.
If you want an elegant lunch, their Gallery Restaurant is worth it. We were served without a reservation, but there were other's present who had made them. www.mccartyspottery.com/gallery.html
The dark stripe on the cup represents the MS River.
Vegetable soup. Tasty.
We chose the shrimp enchilada with creamed spinach and Merigold tomatoes.
For dessert we shared a footed pottery goblet of Chocolate Cobbler with ice cream. It was a large serving and awesome. It served our chocolate fix for the day.
Mississippi has lots of treasures. Happy shopping! And Happy Holidays!
Peace and Grace to all.
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
Deep Soth Williamson and Simmons graves Sardis, MS
Our maternal grandfather was RoyWilliamson. As a small child, he and his family left Ohio and homesteaded in Saunders County, Nebraska in the late 1800's. When we asked him where they came prior to Ohio, he said they waved at Columbus. His wife, our grandmother, was Mae Simmons. As a child, her family also traveled from Ohio to homestead at Lynn, Kansas. They were married 56 years. Grandma was a wife, mother and homemaker. She passed in the 1970's.
Jani and I randomly visit cemeteries. At Sardis, MS, we were shocked to find Williamson's and Simmons.
Oh, if these stones could just talk.
Masonic carving on Rose Hill Williamson stone. Grandpa was a 50 year Mason in Nebraska.
Jani and I randomly visit cemeteries. At Sardis, MS, we were shocked to find Williamson's and Simmons.
Masonic carving on Rose Hill Williamson stone. Grandpa was a 50 year Mason in Nebraska.
And Jani and I found Williamson's at the cemetery in Muthill, Scotland. I think this is a job for Ancestry.com.
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
Monday, November 26, 2012
Oscar Mayer Angus Beef Franks & Red Neck Toaster
I know weines. The original Wahoo, NE, weiners were cherished and shipped all over the world. The casings were a thin gut and tender. The meat was seasoned just right. They were great in a bun, sliced and fried with potatoes, chopped into scrambled eggs and eaten cold. When the owners sold out, the new casings were tough, and the meat recipe wasn't the same.
Preparing for Mississippi's hunting season, I scoured the Kroeger hotdog section and was surprised to find Oscar Mayer's "SELECTS ANGUS BUN LENGTH SMOKED UNCURED ANGUS BEEF FRANKS". We're talking "PREMIUM ANGUS". A high quality of beef makes me think they want us to have the World's Best Hotdog! Get this: THERE ARE NO NITRATES OR NITRITES, except those occurring naturally in celery juice. There are NO ARTIFICIAL FLAVORS, COLORS, FILLERS OR BY-PRODUCTS. This is The Holy Grail of Hotdogs!
During hunting season, our four-foot wide fire pit burns wood nonstop. Hunters stop at any hour to update the wild hog kill, bucks and does taken, have a drink and tell lies. They might have a bowl of fresh neckbone stew cooked with a variety of vegetables, smoked sausage sections cooked on the grill, or hotdogs. They are a resourceful bunch heating hotdogs on a stretched out clothes hanger. But I was lost when it came to warming the buns. The guys threw a long branch over the pit. One of the men opened a hotdog bun and rested it around a small branch. Voila! It toasted. From a four-year old to grandpas, the hotdogs were a hit. Thank you Oscar Mayer! Visit them at oscarmayer.com
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
Preparing for Mississippi's hunting season, I scoured the Kroeger hotdog section and was surprised to find Oscar Mayer's "SELECTS ANGUS BUN LENGTH SMOKED UNCURED ANGUS BEEF FRANKS". We're talking "PREMIUM ANGUS". A high quality of beef makes me think they want us to have the World's Best Hotdog! Get this: THERE ARE NO NITRATES OR NITRITES, except those occurring naturally in celery juice. There are NO ARTIFICIAL FLAVORS, COLORS, FILLERS OR BY-PRODUCTS. This is The Holy Grail of Hotdogs!
During hunting season, our four-foot wide fire pit burns wood nonstop. Hunters stop at any hour to update the wild hog kill, bucks and does taken, have a drink and tell lies. They might have a bowl of fresh neckbone stew cooked with a variety of vegetables, smoked sausage sections cooked on the grill, or hotdogs. They are a resourceful bunch heating hotdogs on a stretched out clothes hanger. But I was lost when it came to warming the buns. The guys threw a long branch over the pit. One of the men opened a hotdog bun and rested it around a small branch. Voila! It toasted. From a four-year old to grandpas, the hotdogs were a hit. Thank you Oscar Mayer! Visit them at oscarmayer.com
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
WWII, London movie
During WWII, a pregnant German couple ran for their lives to escape the Nazi's. They made it to London where their daughter was born. She lives to tell their story.
When the air raid sirens would go off, they went to underground shelters. Her mother remembered people milling around smoking. In the midst of war's chaos, Margaret Mitchell's Gone with the Wind was playing. The young mother scraped together the money for the ticket. She was grateful for the diversion, even if it was another war story in another time and place. Like the rest of us, she lost herself in Deep Southern tradition, grit and glamour. Who can forget Rhett Butler's, "Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn!" Or Scarlett O'hara's green velvet dress made from the plantation drapes. Or Prissy declaring "I don't know nothin 'bout birthin' no babies."
When the air raid sirens went off, the manager stopped the movie and announced patrons could go to the shelter if they wanted, but he was going to continue showing the movie. The young mother said the ticket was so expensive she wasn't going anywhere. The movie rolled to its finish.
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
When the air raid sirens would go off, they went to underground shelters. Her mother remembered people milling around smoking. In the midst of war's chaos, Margaret Mitchell's Gone with the Wind was playing. The young mother scraped together the money for the ticket. She was grateful for the diversion, even if it was another war story in another time and place. Like the rest of us, she lost herself in Deep Southern tradition, grit and glamour. Who can forget Rhett Butler's, "Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn!" Or Scarlett O'hara's green velvet dress made from the plantation drapes. Or Prissy declaring "I don't know nothin 'bout birthin' no babies."
When the air raid sirens went off, the manager stopped the movie and announced patrons could go to the shelter if they wanted, but he was going to continue showing the movie. The young mother said the ticket was so expensive she wasn't going anywhere. The movie rolled to its finish.
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
Jimmy & Jammie's Red Solo Cup Toast
The bride's mother created this stunning cake white cake with almond flavored frosting. The flowers were fresh. The groom's cake was chocolate covered strawberry cake.
The weather was perfect. The home's backyard was perfect, and the bride and groom were perfectly happy. As for the rest of us: A good time was had by all.
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
Le Monte Ste Michel
Without the causeway, access was limited. See my story posted 8/2/12.
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
Friday, August 10, 2012
Shack Up Inn, Clarksdale, MS
The August 8th Clarksdale Press Register featured an article about our hometown. TripAdvisor, Newton, Mass, the world's largest travel site, stated their editor's top ten quirkiest U.S. properties. #5 is Shack Up Inn, Clarksdale, MS.
Come spend your time and money with us, people from around the world do. Nightly rates average $65. Shack Up Inn boasts, "The Ritz we ain't." The shacks provide "a laid-back and rustic setting. Each shack offers a touch of comfort while maintaining the authenticity of the former Hopson Plantation, located near (in) the Missippi Delta - and travelers can soak up the site's history as they walk among sharecropper shacks, the original cotton gin and seed houses located on the property. 'The rooms may not have a high-def TV, but they do have vintage musical instruments and more character than I could accumulate in a lifetime,' said one TripAdvisor traveler."
Back in the day, the shacks were also called shotgun houses: From the front door to the back there were no walls, rooms were to the side. The day laborers who "lived" there did not have running water or a bathroom. After all day in the cotton fields in sweltering heat and high humidity, A/C would have been nice, but it wasn't an option, either.
In the late 40's, the first-ever mechanical cotton picker was brought to Hopson Plantation. There was a lot of head-scratching and number crunching. It was a noisy contraption, but . . . if it worked . . . , it could replace the costs of human labor. It did and it did. Today, you can see, touch and have your picture taken by that first cotton picker setting out by the gin at Hopson's.
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
Come spend your time and money with us, people from around the world do. Nightly rates average $65. Shack Up Inn boasts, "The Ritz we ain't." The shacks provide "a laid-back and rustic setting. Each shack offers a touch of comfort while maintaining the authenticity of the former Hopson Plantation, located near (in) the Missippi Delta - and travelers can soak up the site's history as they walk among sharecropper shacks, the original cotton gin and seed houses located on the property. 'The rooms may not have a high-def TV, but they do have vintage musical instruments and more character than I could accumulate in a lifetime,' said one TripAdvisor traveler."
Back in the day, the shacks were also called shotgun houses: From the front door to the back there were no walls, rooms were to the side. The day laborers who "lived" there did not have running water or a bathroom. After all day in the cotton fields in sweltering heat and high humidity, A/C would have been nice, but it wasn't an option, either.
In the late 40's, the first-ever mechanical cotton picker was brought to Hopson Plantation. There was a lot of head-scratching and number crunching. It was a noisy contraption, but . . . if it worked . . . , it could replace the costs of human labor. It did and it did. Today, you can see, touch and have your picture taken by that first cotton picker setting out by the gin at Hopson's.
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
Thursday, August 09, 2012
WWII Vet, Jim, and Absolut
Absolut sponsored an invitation only Pool Party at Fitzgerald's in Tunica. Working our way through their scrumptous buffet of salads, roasted veggies and sweets, we visited with our table mate, Jim. When we commented on his cap with WWII on it and a row of ribbons, he lit up. "August 5th is the 77th anniversary of my enlistment in the Army in 1935."
I said, "You lied about your age."
His grin foretold the answer, "I was 16. Arrived at Normandy thirty days after it was taken and did five campaigns under General Patton. After my discharge from the Army, I joined the Air Force."
My sister and I have walked Normandy Beach and stood at Patton's grave; I could talk a little of his language, but I couldn't imagine what he'd seen and done.
Absolut offered guests a free sample, if the guest had a ticket. JB came back with a bottle of Absolut Grapevine for us: Vodka, Dragonfruit and Papaya flavor. I won't drink it, but the bottle is pretty and will look nice with fresh flowers. Jim looked disappointed. He didn't know he needed a ticket, and he can't walk. Bulldog-like, JB set out to solve the problem. He came back with Absolut Citron. Jim was ecstatic. One friend would get the Tshirt and his guy friends would enjoy the Vodka. When he and JB shook hands, Jim said, "You don't need to do another good deed for a week."
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
I said, "You lied about your age."
His grin foretold the answer, "I was 16. Arrived at Normandy thirty days after it was taken and did five campaigns under General Patton. After my discharge from the Army, I joined the Air Force."
My sister and I have walked Normandy Beach and stood at Patton's grave; I could talk a little of his language, but I couldn't imagine what he'd seen and done.
Absolut offered guests a free sample, if the guest had a ticket. JB came back with a bottle of Absolut Grapevine for us: Vodka, Dragonfruit and Papaya flavor. I won't drink it, but the bottle is pretty and will look nice with fresh flowers. Jim looked disappointed. He didn't know he needed a ticket, and he can't walk. Bulldog-like, JB set out to solve the problem. He came back with Absolut Citron. Jim was ecstatic. One friend would get the Tshirt and his guy friends would enjoy the Vodka. When he and JB shook hands, Jim said, "You don't need to do another good deed for a week."
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
Thursday, August 02, 2012
Le Mont Saint Michel, France
www.ot-montsaintmichel.com/en/accueil.htm Paste, if you can't access.
The sea rises and falls at the base of the Mont. Unpredictable high tides swept many a pilgrim from the path into a watery grave before the causeway was built in the late 1800's. Years ago my sister and I walked half a mile in the gloom, and damp wind on the last leg of out pilgrimage of thousands of miles by air and hundreds by car. Among the pilgrims were bereted old men, accompanied by old women with head scarves and substantial shoes, mingling with children and grandchildren working their way toward the chapel at the top. Not all would make it, just being inside the fortress counted.
Having walked off our breakfast croissant, the first place we saw to eat was Madame Poullard's. thebluechef.blogspot.com/.../famous-omelet-from-la-mre-poulard.ht...
Seated by a window, outsiders peered at us zoo-like. A white-coated man rhythmically whipped eggs with a long-handled whisk in a large copper bowl. He didn't just whip them twenty or thirty times, he beat the daylight of them. Veggies, cheeses, and meats or seafood are ala carte. Each omelet filled a platter and stood several inches high. The waiter served it as if it were a pricelsss piece of art. The price confirmed it. A leg of salt-meadow lamb was recommended for the second course. I passed. I was full of omelet air.
We wound through narrow streets and small businesses featuring souvenirs of candles, prayer cards, pictures and whatever would remind pilgrims of Ste.Michel 's love and devotion to God and Bishop Aubert's obedience. The further we walked, the less crowded it was.
Quietly we entered the silent, empty stone Chapel more than 500 feet above the sea. A few vigil candles burned confirming previous visitors. The sun broke through the gloom and slid through the lead-glass windows splashing color around us.
At an old wooden pew I knelt and thanked God and Ste. Miche and Bishop Auberge for listening and obeying. I'd come to listen, too. Maybe it is in the air, but a message unfolded, as if pre-recorded. In my heart I felt "I need to trust God to direct my life, believe, and have faith that Thy will is best."
Atop the chapel stands a gold statue of Ste. Michel with his wings spread, his sword raised, and his left foot stomping on the dragon symbolizing darkness overcome, hope and justice. He's our fierce defender, patron saint of perils at sea and policemen; the friend I take with me everywhere. If I could, I'd have a two-story stained glass window of Ste. Michel. Working as a cable lady, I pulled over to ask a man for directions. He stopped his weed whacking, and pointed to the back of the lot. Then he turned back to me and said, "Don't go there, he's been drinking all day." I thanked him and Ste. Michel.
We stepped out through the portal we came in, wrapped our coats close to shut out the cold wind and headed across the windy, treeless sand with threads of sea strung out, as if waiting to be woven. And then I realized, Ste. Michel and Bishop Auberge were weaing faith and trust into us.
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
The sea rises and falls at the base of the Mont. Unpredictable high tides swept many a pilgrim from the path into a watery grave before the causeway was built in the late 1800's. Years ago my sister and I walked half a mile in the gloom, and damp wind on the last leg of out pilgrimage of thousands of miles by air and hundreds by car. Among the pilgrims were bereted old men, accompanied by old women with head scarves and substantial shoes, mingling with children and grandchildren working their way toward the chapel at the top. Not all would make it, just being inside the fortress counted.
Having walked off our breakfast croissant, the first place we saw to eat was Madame Poullard's. thebluechef.blogspot.com/.../famous-omelet-from-la-mre-poulard.ht...
Seated by a window, outsiders peered at us zoo-like. A white-coated man rhythmically whipped eggs with a long-handled whisk in a large copper bowl. He didn't just whip them twenty or thirty times, he beat the daylight of them. Veggies, cheeses, and meats or seafood are ala carte. Each omelet filled a platter and stood several inches high. The waiter served it as if it were a pricelsss piece of art. The price confirmed it. A leg of salt-meadow lamb was recommended for the second course. I passed. I was full of omelet air.
We wound through narrow streets and small businesses featuring souvenirs of candles, prayer cards, pictures and whatever would remind pilgrims of Ste.Michel 's love and devotion to God and Bishop Aubert's obedience. The further we walked, the less crowded it was.
Quietly we entered the silent, empty stone Chapel more than 500 feet above the sea. A few vigil candles burned confirming previous visitors. The sun broke through the gloom and slid through the lead-glass windows splashing color around us.
At an old wooden pew I knelt and thanked God and Ste. Miche and Bishop Auberge for listening and obeying. I'd come to listen, too. Maybe it is in the air, but a message unfolded, as if pre-recorded. In my heart I felt "I need to trust God to direct my life, believe, and have faith that Thy will is best."
Atop the chapel stands a gold statue of Ste. Michel with his wings spread, his sword raised, and his left foot stomping on the dragon symbolizing darkness overcome, hope and justice. He's our fierce defender, patron saint of perils at sea and policemen; the friend I take with me everywhere. If I could, I'd have a two-story stained glass window of Ste. Michel. Working as a cable lady, I pulled over to ask a man for directions. He stopped his weed whacking, and pointed to the back of the lot. Then he turned back to me and said, "Don't go there, he's been drinking all day." I thanked him and Ste. Michel.
We stepped out through the portal we came in, wrapped our coats close to shut out the cold wind and headed across the windy, treeless sand with threads of sea strung out, as if waiting to be woven. And then I realized, Ste. Michel and Bishop Auberge were weaing faith and trust into us.
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
Wednesday, August 01, 2012
What Claude Monet said and ate
"Landscape is only an impression, instantaneous, hence the label they've given us, all because of me, for that matter."
"I am precisely the man of isolated trees and wide spaces." Quotes from the book Monet Water Lillies by Charles F. Stuckey.
At Giverny, "Monet and his second wife, Alice, created their own art of living. Their sole culinary ambition was to serve beautifully prepared dishes using whatever the kitchen-garden or the farmyard could supply."
"The recipe for bouillabaisse came from Cezanne, the recipe for their bread rolls from Jean Millet. Their tarte Tatin was a souvenir of the visits to the Tartin sisters themselves, to sample this famous dish."
The kitchen wall behind the massive double oven cookstove is a variety of blue and white tiles. The dining room is painted a yellow somewhere between egg yolk and sunrise. Scrambled Eggs were served with wild mushrooms, such as morels, chanterelles or oyster mushrooms and trufflesfor Chiristmas.
The dishes are yellow with wedgewood blue rims. Imagine the fragrance rising from tiny vases of fresh lilacs mingling with the scents of fresh baked bread, Mussels with Fresh Herbs, or Pike in White Butter Sauce, or Lobster Newburg. Smell Truffles poached with bacon in the bottom of the pan and enough white wine over. Cook over medium heat 35 minutes. Yum! One of Marguerite's dessert specialties was the Green Cake Vert-vert featuring pistachios and kirsch. Everything invites one to enjoy the food and the company, even though Monet didn't linger over his food or want seconds to be served. If the eye wanders through the open French doors, it is treated to an explosion of color from the overflowing gardens.
Monet rose early to work in morning light. With lead white, cadmium yellow, dark madder, vermillion, emerald and cobalt blue oils, he captured slivers of light as he saw them. Just thinking of him makes me long for Giverny. They lived well. They ate well. It is reflected in his work. I found it to be he happiest place I've visited anywhere in the world. God Bless him!
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
"I am precisely the man of isolated trees and wide spaces." Quotes from the book Monet Water Lillies by Charles F. Stuckey.
From Monet's Table The Cooking Journals of Claude Monet, we get a glimpse/impression of his life.
Text by Claire Joyes. Photographs by Jean-Bernard Nuadin.
At Giverny, "Monet and his second wife, Alice, created their own art of living. Their sole culinary ambition was to serve beautifully prepared dishes using whatever the kitchen-garden or the farmyard could supply."
"The recipe for bouillabaisse came from Cezanne, the recipe for their bread rolls from Jean Millet. Their tarte Tatin was a souvenir of the visits to the Tartin sisters themselves, to sample this famous dish."
The kitchen wall behind the massive double oven cookstove is a variety of blue and white tiles. The dining room is painted a yellow somewhere between egg yolk and sunrise. Scrambled Eggs were served with wild mushrooms, such as morels, chanterelles or oyster mushrooms and trufflesfor Chiristmas.
The dishes are yellow with wedgewood blue rims. Imagine the fragrance rising from tiny vases of fresh lilacs mingling with the scents of fresh baked bread, Mussels with Fresh Herbs, or Pike in White Butter Sauce, or Lobster Newburg. Smell Truffles poached with bacon in the bottom of the pan and enough white wine over. Cook over medium heat 35 minutes. Yum! One of Marguerite's dessert specialties was the Green Cake Vert-vert featuring pistachios and kirsch. Everything invites one to enjoy the food and the company, even though Monet didn't linger over his food or want seconds to be served. If the eye wanders through the open French doors, it is treated to an explosion of color from the overflowing gardens.
Monet rose early to work in morning light. With lead white, cadmium yellow, dark madder, vermillion, emerald and cobalt blue oils, he captured slivers of light as he saw them. Just thinking of him makes me long for Giverny. They lived well. They ate well. It is reflected in his work. I found it to be he happiest place I've visited anywhere in the world. God Bless him!
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
The end of our family's presence.
In l872 our Williamson great-grandparents and their family homesteaded in Saunders County. There were no trees. Nebraska's land was virgin prairie with grasses six feet tall. Children got lost in it. Pioneers who buried their treasures overnight, couldn't always find them in the morning, but they persevered carving out homes and lives. Great Grandmother, Charity Williamson, was a mid-wife. In the only picture we have of them, she and her husband, George Washington Williamson, looked jolly. One story was passed down about her. Some kid had his ear almost cut off. She held it in place until it healed with the lining in an eggshell.
The land was harsh, unforgiving. Grandma Mae Simmons Williamson was from Lynn, Kansas. She remembered being frightened by Indians coming to their home. She and her brothers hid under the bed. Her mother gave the Indians bread and whatever else she had.
As a grown woman, Grandma had a fear of iron bridges. If we didn't put her in the middle seat, she'd get out and walk across the Platte River bridge.
Both sides of our father's Swedish ancestors homesteaded in Saunders County, too. His mother, Ann, is my namesake, and I look like her. She died when he was eighteen months old.
I moved to Mississippi with the pioneering spirits of my grandmother's Mae and Ann. When my sister moves to Virginia, it will end our family's 150 years presence in Saunders County. It makes me sad. I miss the cemetery. I can call and talk to everybody else. My Nebraska friends are my anchors to my roots.
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
The land was harsh, unforgiving. Grandma Mae Simmons Williamson was from Lynn, Kansas. She remembered being frightened by Indians coming to their home. She and her brothers hid under the bed. Her mother gave the Indians bread and whatever else she had.
As a grown woman, Grandma had a fear of iron bridges. If we didn't put her in the middle seat, she'd get out and walk across the Platte River bridge.
Both sides of our father's Swedish ancestors homesteaded in Saunders County, too. His mother, Ann, is my namesake, and I look like her. She died when he was eighteen months old.
I moved to Mississippi with the pioneering spirits of my grandmother's Mae and Ann. When my sister moves to Virginia, it will end our family's 150 years presence in Saunders County. It makes me sad. I miss the cemetery. I can call and talk to everybody else. My Nebraska friends are my anchors to my roots.
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
Flower Lake Cyprus Knees
I love the knees weird shapes.
A group of them will bind together
A group of them will bind together
and become a tree.
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
The Unusual Electrician
In my younger days, I was painfully shy. With time and travel, I learned to pick and choose who to talk to, and it has been fascinating. Recently, I met an electrician for a mine. My only point of reference was kerosene lamps in old Western movies. I asked "How deep do they have to go for the ore?"
He replied, "Until they find it!"
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
He replied, "Until they find it!"
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
Sunday, July 15, 2012
An Arizona baby gift
I met a young woman from Arizona whose mother bought her a pet when she was born. I expected a cat or a dog. No, it was a little lime green iguana - probably from the neighborhood. Sleeping with it made her very happy, she said.
Indoor Iguanas need a hot rock to lay on. They put theirs in the window with a heat lamp for his daily dose of heat. (If you've ever been in AZ, you KNOW it gets extremely hot. "Just let him out!" I say, but that's not how they do it.)
It could have taken on campoflauge colors at times, but it didn't feel threatened.
Their happy arrangement lasted for the first eight years of her life, and he had grown to five feet long.
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
Indoor Iguanas need a hot rock to lay on. They put theirs in the window with a heat lamp for his daily dose of heat. (If you've ever been in AZ, you KNOW it gets extremely hot. "Just let him out!" I say, but that's not how they do it.)
It could have taken on campoflauge colors at times, but it didn't feel threatened.
Their happy arrangement lasted for the first eight years of her life, and he had grown to five feet long.
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
Friday, July 06, 2012
The other Rico's
On Highway 1 at Rena Lara, MS, we stop at Rico's for fresh sandwiches, chips, cold drinks and the occasional household item needed now! It's over ten miles to town, and we're either too cold or too hot.
In Ketchum, Idaho, the air is dry and hot in the daytime and deliciously cool at night: blanket weather. Perusing the city, we found the other Rico's. We could have eaten out under an umbrella but chose to eat inside. Corrie and I shared a paper thin pan pizza covered with a light layer of cheese and sauteed fresh onions, peppers and mushrooms. Yummmy!!!! My salad included fresh pear pieces and carmeled walnuts - a wonderful combinations. Corrie inhaled hot peach cobbler smothered in ice cream. I had the above tiarimusu. Both were outstanding! And the coffee was unusually good, smooth without acidity.
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
Bidyadanga Artists of Western Australia
The following information is from the back of this card:
The Harvey Art Projects USA proudly presents in conujunction with Short Street Gallery Broome Western Australia
LUMINESCENCE
The Color of Bidyadanga Artists of Western Australia
Bidyadanga artists are the Yulparija elders who have spent most of their lives in the Great Sandy Desert of Western Australia living in the traditional bush way. Much of their work reflects this and depicts the country on the Canning Stock Route around well 33. Their paintings shimmer with vibrant colors that capture their landscapes in the most luminescence of ways. Exhibit runs until July 31st 2012.
Gallery walk Opening July 6th 2012 5-8 pm
391 1st Ave North
Ketchum ID 83340
info@harveyartprojects.com
I photo
The photo on the reverse of this card says: Weaver Jack, Acrylic on Belgian linen 2008.
It is a map of the area the artist grew up in. She signs her work with a cross.
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Where my blogging time went!
He created his bed and made himself at home. JB took him to the camp the first night and let him sleep with him. Buckshot believes its his rightful place today.
JB says he's never seen a dog so loving. When I first looked into Buckshot's big brown eyes, I saw a blank canvas. He had no preconceived ideas about the world. It was up to us to program him. I put love in. He puts love out.
Cats Schatzie and Madchen were not happy with the arrangement. No one asked them if they wanted "a brother". They didn't and still don't. While I cleaned house, he decorated his crate by shredding puppy papers he snatched from a kitchen chair. I think Madchen egged him on telling him, "Mom will love it."
I am learning how to walk him on his leash and where not to walk. The local ants were not pleased to meet me, and I have the welts to prove it. And that's where my blogging time has gone.
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
Sunday, June 10, 2012
My friend, The Head,
is a quadraplegic I met when I volunteered to read to residents of a Nursing Home. I admit tears got away when I first saw him and thought of all he couldn't do. I can't imagine such limitation.
Over a few weeks of reading and visiting, I discovered my new friend is interested in everything; he has no distrations. He is warm, funny and kind and can talk on any subject. I've learned about fishing, sports and travel, to name a few areas.
He wanted to hear Stephen King books. I shuddered. The director said I'd only be reading in the daylight. I was thrilled to discover someone donated three books on tapes to the library, and the home bought him a tape player. My next visit I didn't interrupt his listening. He was aglow with pure delight.
My friend likes NASCAR stories, too. When I read about Dale Earnhardt's frustration over a losing streak, I asked him what he did with his frustration.
He didn't hesitate. "I don't have any."
I was stunned. I have a lot to learn from this man.
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
Over a few weeks of reading and visiting, I discovered my new friend is interested in everything; he has no distrations. He is warm, funny and kind and can talk on any subject. I've learned about fishing, sports and travel, to name a few areas.
He wanted to hear Stephen King books. I shuddered. The director said I'd only be reading in the daylight. I was thrilled to discover someone donated three books on tapes to the library, and the home bought him a tape player. My next visit I didn't interrupt his listening. He was aglow with pure delight.
My friend likes NASCAR stories, too. When I read about Dale Earnhardt's frustration over a losing streak, I asked him what he did with his frustration.
He didn't hesitate. "I don't have any."
I was stunned. I have a lot to learn from this man.
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
Sunday, June 03, 2012
An Angel for Dogs
We have a man in Clarksdale, MS who has a soft spot for stray dogs and does something about it. Locals have been behind the tanned, white-haired man buying a hamburger and a sackful. Our kind, big-hearted hero cruises the streets and backroads in his truck, or on his motorcycle, finds and feeds stray dogs. You could say he's their Angel. God Bless him.
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Memorial Day 2012
Many flags
Many memories
Cemetery short white crosses
Searching for Papa and George's
Feeling their burdens, unspoken pain
War horror
Mass graves
Destruction of body and soul
Fractured souls of the living
For ages
I prayed for a way
to erase it
God gave it
Thank you
When you are ready
to exchange war's horrors
for inner peace,
come to me.
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
Many memories
Cemetery short white crosses
Searching for Papa and George's
Feeling their burdens, unspoken pain
War horror
Mass graves
Destruction of body and soul
Fractured souls of the living
For ages
I prayed for a way
to erase it
God gave it
Thank you
When you are ready
to exchange war's horrors
for inner peace,
come to me.
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Yazoo Pass Bistro @ 207 Yazoo Ave
Home alone, I didn't eat highly nutritious, microwaveable macaroni and cheese, I investigated Clarksdale's new downtown restaurant, Yazoo Pass.
Housed in a former retail store, the entire front is glass. Diners are welcomed to comfortable booths, tables and chairs, and a long, sturdy, raised table that can seat fourteen with stools. At noon it filled up fast with a mixed-age crowd.
I bought the last piece of Quiche Lorraine. Perfect! And I told the Manager so.
They serve soups, salads and sandwiches from 7 AM until 9 PM. I had the small salad and liked that the veggies were chopped small. Kids from 1-100 enjoyed the top-your-own, $.45 an ounce frozen yogurt with a variety of nuts, crumbled cookies, candies, sprinkles and syrups. I had chocolate with Oreo bits and slivered almonds. Yum!
Breakfast offers include bagels, croissants or breads with eggs, bacon, natural black forest ham, and or, swiss, cheddar or provolone cheese; an oatmal bar, french toast with pure maple syrup and homemade granola.
There is an espresso bar. Come summer, I want to try their smoothies: strawberry, banana, mango or peach.
The price and quality is comparable to Panera's. I will be a regular. Check it out!
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
Housed in a former retail store, the entire front is glass. Diners are welcomed to comfortable booths, tables and chairs, and a long, sturdy, raised table that can seat fourteen with stools. At noon it filled up fast with a mixed-age crowd.
I bought the last piece of Quiche Lorraine. Perfect! And I told the Manager so.
They serve soups, salads and sandwiches from 7 AM until 9 PM. I had the small salad and liked that the veggies were chopped small. Kids from 1-100 enjoyed the top-your-own, $.45 an ounce frozen yogurt with a variety of nuts, crumbled cookies, candies, sprinkles and syrups. I had chocolate with Oreo bits and slivered almonds. Yum!
Breakfast offers include bagels, croissants or breads with eggs, bacon, natural black forest ham, and or, swiss, cheddar or provolone cheese; an oatmal bar, french toast with pure maple syrup and homemade granola.
There is an espresso bar. Come summer, I want to try their smoothies: strawberry, banana, mango or peach.
The price and quality is comparable to Panera's. I will be a regular. Check it out!
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
Sunday, January 15, 2012
The Help on the carpet
Author Kathryn Stockett exposed a Deep South way of life that sixty agents rejected. I am grateful the sixty-first saw her work's value and had the courage to do something about it. I caught up with the movie at our local library expecting the pull down screen to be the object of projection. Wrong. It was projected on the carpeted wall behind it for a larger picture.
Prejudice was not limited to the Deep South. In the Midwest, we had religious prejudice. In the 60's an African-American engineer came to our area to work for General Dynamics. It was the first time I witnessed racial prejudice.
I compared my Midwestern culture with the Deep South. Where I grew up, we were 'the help' with an outside bathroom, too. Ours was a two-seater outhouse. Jani and I learned to garden, cook and preserve our food, tend the chickens, hogs, cattle and occasional lamb, sew, entertain, write thank you notes and more. We never had a sitter or a nanny. When Mom and Dad had to go somewhere, we stayed with Grandpa and Grandma and Aunt Bobbe.
We watched Mom do it all in the house and the garden and train us to do the same. She helped Dad move livestock and kept the hogs back when he drove the tractor in with a load of corn. We sure could have used 'help', but it wasn't an option. Neighbor helped neighbor, but not on a daily basis.
We were self-contained. We grew our own food, and Mom and Dad did our comforting, guiding and inspiring. We knew we were loved. She belonged to Seven-O-Sals extension club that met monthly for practical household tips and homemade cake the hostess took great care preparing. At home chocolate with chocolate frosting was Jani's and my favorite. Mom's favorite was angelfood with strawberries and whipped cream. She knew exactly how many cobs to put in the cookstove to bake a perfect angelfood. Couples played Pinochle and Canasta and Square Danced.
Our lives were full and complete. We always had 'enough'. Extended family helped harvest the garden, clean chickens, and came in emergencies. One summer Saturday Mom knew something was up when three-year old Janis asked for soap and water. Mom searched and discovered she had dipped the black and white kittens in tan (ugly to me) porch paint. By the time Grandpa arrived, the kittens were stiff. He and Mom worked the rest of the day cleaning them off with paint thinner. They all survived.
Without hired help, willing neighbors were a treasure. They helped each other put up hay, harvest, and do what ever was needed. We were a tight-knit, small community that revolved around a country school.
Every community has its own culture. I enjoy learning what's held sacred, how they worship, care for one another, what works and what doesn't. Learning about our differences leads to understanding, tolerance and peace. Whatever works.
Goodnight y'all.
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
Prejudice was not limited to the Deep South. In the Midwest, we had religious prejudice. In the 60's an African-American engineer came to our area to work for General Dynamics. It was the first time I witnessed racial prejudice.
I compared my Midwestern culture with the Deep South. Where I grew up, we were 'the help' with an outside bathroom, too. Ours was a two-seater outhouse. Jani and I learned to garden, cook and preserve our food, tend the chickens, hogs, cattle and occasional lamb, sew, entertain, write thank you notes and more. We never had a sitter or a nanny. When Mom and Dad had to go somewhere, we stayed with Grandpa and Grandma and Aunt Bobbe.
We watched Mom do it all in the house and the garden and train us to do the same. She helped Dad move livestock and kept the hogs back when he drove the tractor in with a load of corn. We sure could have used 'help', but it wasn't an option. Neighbor helped neighbor, but not on a daily basis.
We were self-contained. We grew our own food, and Mom and Dad did our comforting, guiding and inspiring. We knew we were loved. She belonged to Seven-O-Sals extension club that met monthly for practical household tips and homemade cake the hostess took great care preparing. At home chocolate with chocolate frosting was Jani's and my favorite. Mom's favorite was angelfood with strawberries and whipped cream. She knew exactly how many cobs to put in the cookstove to bake a perfect angelfood. Couples played Pinochle and Canasta and Square Danced.
Our lives were full and complete. We always had 'enough'. Extended family helped harvest the garden, clean chickens, and came in emergencies. One summer Saturday Mom knew something was up when three-year old Janis asked for soap and water. Mom searched and discovered she had dipped the black and white kittens in tan (ugly to me) porch paint. By the time Grandpa arrived, the kittens were stiff. He and Mom worked the rest of the day cleaning them off with paint thinner. They all survived.
Without hired help, willing neighbors were a treasure. They helped each other put up hay, harvest, and do what ever was needed. We were a tight-knit, small community that revolved around a country school.
Every community has its own culture. I enjoy learning what's held sacred, how they worship, care for one another, what works and what doesn't. Learning about our differences leads to understanding, tolerance and peace. Whatever works.
Goodnight y'all.
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
Sunday, January 01, 2012
Ready or not, 2012 is here!
We came home late and got up early New Year's Day. JB went hunting. I went back to bed to sleep off drinking to much water. Yes, water. Buckshot parked in my left arm. Madchen parked in my right with big round, scheming eyes, a scowl and bent out ears. Peace was not on her mind, when she reached across and slapped him. He yelped. I jumped up, put her in the hall, him in his crate and shut the bedroom door!
This afternoon Madchen parked her ample, orange-haired personage by the hall door daring Buckshot to cross the threshold. He took one look at her pissy owl face and backed off. I suspect she's made it her New Year's resolution to get him out of the house!
It's a Southern tradition to have black-eyed peas and cornbread on New Year's, but JB asked for the beef stew I cooked the day before. That was easy.
I don't do resolutions well. My only plan is to better manage these pets. I, too, have a dream of integration. I will try to stay a step ahead of Buckshot. He can reach the kitchen table; ballpoint pens are his current chomp of choice. I'm finding detached screws and other bits of hardware around the recliner. If it falls apart, I know where to place the blame. On a personal note, I think I'll let my hair grow so I have more to pull.
I hope your New Year is off to a great start and the rest of the year is the best ever! May you receive more blessings than you know what to do with!
Love,
MJ
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
This afternoon Madchen parked her ample, orange-haired personage by the hall door daring Buckshot to cross the threshold. He took one look at her pissy owl face and backed off. I suspect she's made it her New Year's resolution to get him out of the house!
It's a Southern tradition to have black-eyed peas and cornbread on New Year's, but JB asked for the beef stew I cooked the day before. That was easy.
I don't do resolutions well. My only plan is to better manage these pets. I, too, have a dream of integration. I will try to stay a step ahead of Buckshot. He can reach the kitchen table; ballpoint pens are his current chomp of choice. I'm finding detached screws and other bits of hardware around the recliner. If it falls apart, I know where to place the blame. On a personal note, I think I'll let my hair grow so I have more to pull.
I hope your New Year is off to a great start and the rest of the year is the best ever! May you receive more blessings than you know what to do with!
Love,
MJ
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
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