Carol's Baked Fruit

Carol Jasa made this when I stayed with them.

Delish! 

I made it at home in an 8x8 and ate it all myself..

She used a 9x13

All fruit was canned and drained.

In a 9x13 she started at the outside

with a row of apricot halves on each end

the second row was peach halves

pitted plums were the next row

a row of pears were centered

(or make your own arrangement

with whatever fruit you have)

Lay pineapple rings on top

Heat 1/3 cup packed brown sugar

1 Tablespoon butter

1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/4 teaspoon ground cloves

and 1/2 cup pineapple juice

Cook, stirring until sugar dissolves

and butter melts

Pour over fruit

Bake uncovered 350 degrees 20 to 25 minutes

Enjoy!

Tastes great cold, too.

2014 Red Convertible Travel Series

Awesome Southern Pecan Pie

My friend Evelyn gave me this old Southern recipe:

Have all ingredients at room temperature

1 9" unbaked pie shell

1 cup halved or chopped pecans
1 Tablespoon flour
1/2 cup white sugar
3 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
dash of salt
1 cup of Green Label Karo Pancake Syrup
1 stick, 8 teaspoons, of butter

Place pecans in the bottom of the unbaked crust
Mix the rest of the ingredients together and pour over the pecans
Bake pie on a cookie sheet
350 degrees for 45 minutes.

This was my first attempt at Southern Pecan Pie. I made four Friday and gave away three They were a hit. .

2013 Red Convertible Travel Series

The Fork's Life

Dedicated to Angela Levkoff whose Grandmother passed recently.

An heirloom
with its own stories
of foods forked

at Grandma's Sunday dinners

Crispy fried chicken

homegrown potatoes mashed and milk gravy
sweetcorn
picked and shucked Sunday morning

 lettuce
wilted with bacon, green onions

and a splash of vinegar

homemade buns

butter and honey

angelfood cake
real cream whipped

sliced, fresh garden strawberries

on top

and the things it heard . . .
the neighbor is in a family-way
markets are going down
so and so's kid stole the boss's tools
will he go to jail

it's job done
washed in hot soapy water
dried with a soft towel
tucked back in her silver chest

Grandma died
the silver chest laid untouched
until a granddaughter
lifted the lid
oohed and aahed
and took possession

the craftsman heated it

 intertwined the prongs
to make two hearts

and bent the handle

to go around her wrist

one more way
Granddaughter
holds Grandma close

2013 Red Convertible Travel Series

Drink Tea and Talk Nice

My friend, Evelyn, and I had a "tea for two" party at her house. I wore my new straw hat with the high crown, 4" sloping brim, and wide black ribbon with a flat bow, a long blue flax skirt and blue linen blouse. I felt "Southern". I don't remember what she wore. It's her complexion that catches my attention. It's to die for: peachy and without a single line.

Welcoming Petunias spilled out of front porch containers sharing their sweet summer fragrance on a hot spring afternoon.

Her cottage is decorated in white, crisp and subtle blues. I could live on her large screened-in porch with its swing and ceiling fan.

We "took" tea in her dining room. She served icy cold lemon and black tea. Refreshing! We shared cucumber sandwiches on savory sesame crackers with a smidge of sour cream and dill weed, and nibbled cold oven almond pound cake. We talked recipes, family and friendship. She brought out her latest commissioned needlepoint project. Over the years several churches have commissioned her to needlepoint kneeling bench pads and other projects. She paints free-hand on wooden eggs for any occasion, too. I celebrate her creativity!

Rose-like double impatience grace her shaded and fenced-in back yard of little paths between the monkey grass. There was "something" growing at every turn. Her green thumb is evident inside and out.

Lace-cap hydrangea centers remind me of elderberries that grew wild in
Nebraska. Grandma and I used to ride through the country side searching the ditches. It was a dusty job collecting them. All our efforts netted a few half-pints of jelly, but our time together was priceless.

Hydrangeas peeked around the corner of her house. So brilliantly colored, who could ignore them? I grew them in NE and saw houses surrounded with hydrangeas on Nantucket. They are voluptuous fresh and dry well.

We had a pleasant afternoon. A tea party represents a slower, kinder time. I'd like to have a cottage by the sea like Evelyn's, where I could drink tea with friends, retreat, read, write and rewrite to my heart's content and take walks on the beach. I'm putting it on my bucket list.

2013 Red Convertible Travel Series

Going home, coming home

Windows down, I inhaled the familiar scent of Nebraska soil. It will always be home. The rolling hills. Less humidity. Friendly faces. Warm welcomes. Hugs and back scratches. Visiting school and spending time with my young friends and their families. Watching baby squirrels play in my sister's tall trees. Filling my trunk with books to give away. Cooking with my sister and laughing lots. She made a cream cheese cake that didn't make it to the picnic. I made Southern cheese grits with shrimp they loved. I must return often; it fuels my soul.

Old Fashioned Cream Cake

I yellow cake mix
1 large egg or 2 smaller ones
1 stick of soft butter
   Mix and pat into a 9x13 pan or dish

Mix together:
3 eggs
3 1/2 cups powdered sugar
8 ounces cream cheese
1 teaspoon vanilla or almond flavoring
Spread over cake mixture in the pan

Bake 350 degrees, if a metal pan, 325 if glass, 30 to 40 minutes  The top should be slightly brown.
See how fast it disappears for you.

On my return to MS, I stopped in Nebraska City at the truck stop on I29  and sat at the counter for faster service. A breakfast burrito was delivered to the man on my far right. I only noticed because he was upset about the sliced black olives on top and refused to eat any of it.  Since I do not have "olive anxiety", I offered to take them. He relaxed and ate his burrito. I enjoyed my olive topped omelet while he talked and talked. Among his other problems, he hated boiled yellow squash, too, after having to eat it three times a day at the babysitters. The poor guy is a hostage of his negative feelings.

I took a side trip to visit friends at Mt Vernon, MO. Moore, OK, had already been demolished. We were in a new tornado warning and took refuge in a friend's basement. When Joplin, MO was destroyed by a tornado, x-rays from their hospital blew more than 30 miles into this Mt. Vernon yard. Our evening was uneventful. Thank God! As they say in the South, "You must have been prayed up."

Tornado warnings continued through Tuesday keeping me in Mt. Vernon an extra day. No problem! If you like fresh ground coffee, go to Keen Bean. Enjoy their pastries, sandwiches, soups and cold drinks, too  Eighth-grader Skylar and I made the cream-cheese cake that did not make it through the day, either. He made the chocolate and oatmeal boiled cookies, monkey bread and Alfredo. His little sister, Adalyn showed us all up by winning numerous games of UNO. Tawnya Krempges is near becoming a National Sales Director for Mary Kay. Go Tawnya! I love MK"s new "TimeWise Repair Volu-Firm". My face feels firmer in just a few days. What will months do? Contact me here or on facebook if you're interested in trying it.

New routes can be interesting, challenging, or just plain dull. In pre-dawn and light fog, I discovered Arkansas has mountains on its west side with high-off-the-ground bridges connecting them. It reminded me of driving in Belgium. I hugged the left lane here, too.

Mississippi greeted me with humidity that slows my steps, proof of mice in the house and two cats doing nothing about it.  I would prefer not to use poison. If you know of a saint who drives out mice, I'd appreciate the info.

2013 Red Convertible Travel Series

The MS Marlboro Man

We had been to Sargent, Nebraska to visit my childhood friend, Connie, and her family. Driving through the treeless Sand Hills the only change of scenery is the occasional windmill and another herd of cattle. The kids soon tired at my, "Look, there's a new calf!"

It was tempting to drive at top speed to get to "civilization." But... where the roads are built up between the hills, cross winds are dangerous. And cattle have no regard for fences. The grass is greener on the other side, even if it means crossing the road at cow-speed. Whole cows do not make good hood ornaments.

It was a drizzly morning. In the distance, but close to the road, a lone rider worked to organize the herd. We stopped to watch. He wore a black ten-gallon hat low over his eyes. His dark full-length slicker kept him and the palomino's rump dry. Gloved hands held the reins with authority. Straight-backed, he radiated confidence, ability, power, strong-mindedness, and Clint Eastwood no-nonsense ruggedness. I longed to look in his eyes. The Marlboro man, that's who he looked like. I wondered if he could dance. Sigh. I only know two men who can dance. One lives far away; the other doesn't ask.

Years later and twelve days into our Egyptian tour, Minnie and I longed for familiar food: popcorn and potato chips. We ordered tomato soup, potato chips and ice cream on the patio of our hotel. Served in individual courses, the plate and the potato chips were heated. None of it tasted like home. But the movie caught our eyes. "Minnie, which cowboy movie is that?"

She replied, "That's not a movie. It's our Marlboro Man commercials strung together."
We're not the only ones fascinated with the American cowboy. In my imagination, mine can dance.

Last Monday I had lunch at The Ranch on old #61 in Clarksdale, MS. The walls are lined with pictures of visitors, dignitaries and locals. I looked at the picture of hunk, football star Charlie Conerly and learned he played for Clarksdale High School, Old Miss and the New York Giants. When he moved back to Clarksdale, he owned Conerly Shoe Store. He is also remembered for being the original Marlboro man in the commercials.

2013 Red Convertible Travel Series

Nature Creates

 A drop of ice water made a bear climbing the grain in our table.

 Love is everywhere.

A drop of coffee made a heart.

These pictures were NOT altered. I caught love and creativity in the act.

2013 Red Convertible Travel Series

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

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

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

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

No 'Easy Bake' Christmas

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

2011 Red Convertible Travel Series

Modified Thanksgiving Dinner

The pilgrims boiled theirs. We smoked ours.

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

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

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

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

2011 Red Convertible Travel Series

Thanksgiving 2011

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

God Bless you all.

Love,
MJ

2011 Red Convertible Travel Series

Salmon Chowder

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

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

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

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

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

Crumble salmon in
Salt an pepper

Enjoy! We did.

2011 Red Convertible Travel Series

Labor Day 2011 Remembering is reliving.

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

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

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

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

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

2011 Red Convertible Travel Series

That's God!

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

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

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

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

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

2011 Red Convertible Travel Series

My friend Kim

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

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

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

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

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

©2011 Red Convertible Travel Series

Under the chestnut tree

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Love you,

2011 Red Convertible Travel Series

Backyard love

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

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

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

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

I'll let you know when the chicks hatch.

2011 Red Convertible Travel Series