Winter Love

I looked out 

one wintry morning

Someone put hearts
on the street
in front of our house

without footprints

Ah,

When the driver turned around
the tires made joined hearts
A gift

of winter love

Thanks, whoever you are💕

©2017 Red Convertible Travel Series 

The 2013 Cook Off

I moved 800 miles from NE to MS, but my heart belongs with my three adopted grandchildren.



I always visit school when I'm in town. Aja is ten and in 5th grade. Her class was social studies, and the teacher was talking about plantations. I'd been to Seven Chimneys Farm recently and gave them first-hand information.

Ryker, 11, and Alec, 12, were in writing class. I took Leaning into the Wind and read my story, "Tractor Travels". As aspiring writers, I wanted them see it is possible to get published. Principal Harris introduced himself and asked if he bought a book would I autograph it for the school? You bet!

Ryker, Aja and Alec decided to do a cook off the next day and I was to judge the best.

Aja made a smoothie with frozen raspberries, chocolate chip mint ice cream and whipped cream. Delicious!

Ryker cooked Ramen noodles with his roasted red pepper seasoning and topped each serving with a slice of fresh yellow pepper and fresh parsley leaves. Yummy!

Alec made cupcake cookies with Snickerdoodle cookie dough. While they were still warm, he added white frosting and sprinkles. His Mom said, "You can never have too many sprinkles." They were great!

Judging included originality, presentation, flavor and texture. Since all other contestants had been cut, a $1 prize was awarded to each for winning their category. Yah!!!

Hugs to all. No goodbyes. See you later

2014 Red Convertible Travel Series

Car Washers

Real car washers

my sweet friends

Ryker, Aja & Alec

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

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

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 #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

Post St. Patrick's Day Cabbage Math

After weeks of cold, rainy, gloomy weather reminiscent of Ireland, 3/17 was a sunny blessing. For me, no sun equals no sense of direction. JB points and says, "That's north." Nuh-huh, that's east. Nebraska's roads are generally square miles. Mississippi roads follow old Indian trails, creeks, and around stumps.

On the 17th, friends of JB's stopped by for a chat. Lawn chairs were pulled out and placed in the shade at the nose of the motorhome. They reminisced hunting and drag racing, while I pondered how to feed them with a single head of cabbage .

Hunger interrupted their tales; God knows they will never run out. Hilton said he had some fresh slab (2 lb.) crappie, hushpuppies and potatoes. Cecil had a fry daddy. Derek said coleslaw would taste good. I volunteered our cabbage. He offered tomatoes, onions and mayo. JB setup the table.

Cabbage + fish + friends = a tasty feast with leftovers.

©2009 Red Convertible Travel Series

What did you say to make the bride cry?

I've known Jennifer since she was child. We talk often. She called when she met Darren, when they got engaged and kept me informed of their wedding plans. It was 300 miles away, but I really wanted to go.

Getting there was no big deal; I'm used to driving hundreds of miles a day. My "outfit" was the problem: dress, shoes, hose, purse, hair, lipstick, nails, tan, perfume, jewelry? Lamentations of Biblical proportions and slump-shouldered sighs left me clueless.

Krysia searched her closet and found a never-worn silk dress: pale blue/grey background with muted fuchsia and pale rust flower petals with self-fabric ruffles at the neck and diagonally on the front; fully lined with pale blue silk.Gorgeous. Up to now its life had been limited to decorating her closet suffering the snubs of the sturdy blue jeans. Nanner. Nanner. "Here, try this on."
Well, I knew it wouldn't fit. To humor her I slid it over my head and gasped. No only did it fit, it felt delicious, light weight, French. Pearls and a dab of Chanel #5, and I was set.

The groom's father, David, passed away recently leaving a collection of watches his wife graciously shared with family and friends. Just before the brides attendants entered, the groom, groomsmen and the Pastor pointed to their "David" watch to acknowledge his spirit presence. Timing. It was all about timing.

Each bridal attendant floated in tanned and coiffed wearing an electric blue gown with spaghetti straps. Two pre-school girls with flowers in their hair and in their basket shyly made their way to the altar scattering a petal here and there. The little boy carried the rings like a pro.

Everyone in their place, Henry Purcell's "Trumpet Tune" exploded from the organ. We rose and turned for "the grand entrance." The doors opened to Jennifer on her father's arm. Both were beaming; the happiest day of her life, and the proudest of her parents. Her halter top gown was an exquisite work of art beaded to below the waist of her full skirt and train. She glowed.

Pastor blessed and sealed their commitment for life. Forever. Jennifer and Darren lit the unity candle to cement their lives as man and wife, a single unit. An impenetrable gold circle formed around them.
Bride and groom greeted guests as they left the pew. I congratulated them. She didn't recognize me. It's been fifteen years. When I told her who I was she gasped, shuddered, grabbed me in a bear hug and burst into tears. Me too.

The people behind me were miffed they didn't get such a greeting. Throughout the reception people asked what I said to make the bride cry? Just my name.

2008 Red Convertible Travel Series

EASTER 2008

This week we cycled out of winter into spring and an early Easter. The weather is still March: warm one day, rain or snow the next. Mom would say Mother Nature is cleaning out her weather closet.

Crocuses that peaked through my front garden during the week are closed tight today--to stay warm, I suppose. Saying we had the last of last winter's something makes winter seem further behind us. It was a corker. Today is gloomy and cold. For lunch we had the last pieces of winter's gingerbread warmed and with a scoop of vanilla bean ice cream. I love the aroma. It feels substantial, insulating. We won't make it again until fall. When the weather warms we hunger for cucumbers, lighter meals, Greek olives and pasta dishes.

Tomorrow is Easter, Christians day to celebrate the Risen Christ. Imagine finding his tomb empty. Would you be afraid to tell anyone? Would you question your sanity? I saw them put him in. What would you do?

At Easter we acknowledge and celebrate God's gift of salvation for us. Read John 3:16. Whether you make a pilgrimage to a sacred place such as Knock, Ireland, southeast of Castlebar, or Mount St. Michel, France, or the Coptic Church in Cairo, Egypt, the Holy Land, your local church, or spend time with nature, I pray you open your heart and accept the unconditional love God has for you. Feel His love flow around, in and through you cleansing every cell, erasing doubt, fear, and mistakes.

If you don't already know the Lord, I suggest you contemplate Him. Invite Him into your world. Ask for His help. No problem is bigger than the Lord, and He wants the best for you. You won't find a better friend.

2008 Red Convertible Travel Series

Jewelry Tree

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

copyright 2006 Red Convertible Travel Series

Not cable, heart connections

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

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

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

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

copyright 2006 Red Convertible Travel Series

The Prayer of Jabez

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

copyrigh 2007 Red Convertible Travel Series

Tawnya & Teresa, True Friends, Food 'n Fun

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

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

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

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

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

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

copyright 2007 Red Convertible Travel Series

Scottish Parade

It’s a Scottish kind of day: chilly, gray, gloomy, rainy. They apologized for it. We expected it. Minnie and I felt at home in Scotland, even though our Scotch heritage is minimal.

I’m thousands of miles away, but I can pretend with a cup of tea and some butter biscuits. Scones, clotted cream and jam would be better - and with my sister. I’d go for a drive, but it wouldn’t be the same driving on the right. She’d say, “Left! Drive left,” and “Look at those white stones on the green, … or are those sheep?”

Hot tea invites memories to tumble and parade. The wee drop of Scotch blood in me says, ‘Oh,lassie, come stroll the glens with me shadow’. Give me a tartan plaid to wrap in, and we'll talk.

Gooseberries: with yogurt, pureed with scones, jam with orange marmalade for toast, but not all at the same meal. When we were children, no matter what pie anyone made, Dad said it would have been better if it were gooseberry. You guessed it. A neighbor made him a gooseberry pie, and stood there while he ate it. He said it was good, and never mentioned gooseberries again. 

Charlie and Eleanor’s overflow, unadvertised B&B near Aberdeen: We were weary from weeks of road travel and gloomy weather. They welcomed us with hot tea and warm conversation, just as interested in us as we were in them. Collecting friends is my ideal. They worked some for a titled family and spoke highly of them.

After an hour I asked for directions to a pub or restaurant for dinner. Eleanor replied, “You’re sinking. The fresh fish truck came today. There’s a piece of fish and a boiled potato for each of you.” At their kitchen table she gave up her piece of white fish for one of us, and her home-canned pickled beets gave up their juice coloring my potato. We were family.

Talked out, I headed up to our room, and found a lump in my bed. Uncertain, I hovered my hand above it. It was warm. Was it alive? Quietly I opened the bedroom door, and grabbed a pillow off the other bed; one of us was going to run. On the count of three, I threw back the covers. The hot water bottle never moved. 

Copyright 2005 Red Convertible Travel Series

Shadow Pictures & Applejack

Our parsley-eating, French friends invited us to an evening Sound & Light Show - he'd drive. Just before sunset they whisked us through the countryside to an outdoor performance. We joined other ground-sitting spectators on the terraced hillside overlooking the theatrical village.

At dark a surprise drizzle canceled the performance. Projection lights beaming from behind inspired our ever-ready imaginations to bend our fingers making giant rabbits appear on the stage.

Camille, our Normandy Auberge host, eagerly awaited our return. As we parked he came out with a bottle in hand, a skip in his step, his white hair bouncing, and an impish grin on his face. Proud of his homemade applejack (apple brandy), he stated he didn't share it with just anybody.

Our daytime outdoor table, with its red and white checkered cover, looked magical by candlelight with four tiny cups and a sugarcube perched on each saucer. With flair, Camille poured a short tablespoon in each cup with instructions to dip the sugarcube and suck it.

His eyes twinkled. "How is it?" Apples on fire! Unable to breathe, we sort of nodded approval, which I would regret later. (Hard liquor and I don't get along. I tried it at seventeen and thirty-seven, and gave up.)

Savoring each mini-sip, sharing our life's joys and sorrows gave our friendships time to blend and deepen. We went to bed smiling over this chapter of our French travels: shadow pictures and applejack.

copyright 2005 Red Convertible Travel Series

Louisiana Ditch Friends

My love and I sat on the curb with but an alligator between us, chopped up in little pieces and deep-fried; tastey.

Driving home we caught the full moon glistening off something shiny in the Interstate ditch. It moved. We turned, went back, and found three people milling around a van with a broken tie rod. No one was hurt.

We waited for the wrecker with our new "ditch friends" and were amazed at what we learned. Their hobby was African big game hunting, and they had the pictures to prove it. They were married in Africa, and invited us to go on their next hunt. It seems so far away, out of reach. But we could go sometime. We should. We could make more friends.

copyright 2005 Red Convertible Travel Series

Red Convertible Travel Series Inspiration

Mother loved the idea of traveling through life in a red convertible. It represented freedom, romance, class, fun, whimsy, a lighter side of life. She'd never even sat in one until, thanks to Harry, our local used car dealer, we borrowed one for the afternoon.

Mother drove my sister and I and her childhood friend, Ileta, all around town hoping people would "see us and talk." Five miles from home we stopped at a little cafe for homemade pie: rhubarb, strawnberry, raisin cream and coconut. Mom sat by the window so she could see who noticed "her" car.

Riding in this used red convertible, these two old friends in their late 70's glowed, over flowing with joy. They had it all. And their hair stayed in place under the plastic rain caps we thought were disgusting. My sister's and my free hair tied in knots.

The Red Convertible Travel Series is a collection of my life's inspirational moments.

copyright 2005 Red Convertible Travel Series