Gardens of Eatin'

It won't be long before the tomatoes will be bursting with ripeness, and gardeners will be washing up canning jars for preserving salsa, homemade ketchup, and all kinds of tomato  medleys for chili.  Tomato time is truly the big gardening event of the summer, isn't it?

I can still see my mother standing by the stove stirring a kettle of bubbling tomatoes.  She used to make homemade ketchup for us.  Her recipe wasn't too sweet, not too vinegary, but just right.  After we took that first taste, we knew she once again nailed it right on.  She'd fry hamburgers in the iron skillet, slice thick slices of raw onion, and then we'd smear spoonsful of her ketchup on the fried burger, and it would drip down outside the bun onto our fingers and hands.  It was messy, but mom's main concern was our enjoyment, not fancy table manners.

Why is it that we never lose the memories of our mother's cooking?  My mother left behind many of her best recipes, and I've categorized them and put them all together in a folding file.  Before that, they were all in a rubber maid container, and if I wanted to find one, I had to dig through the whole stack.  She hand-wrote her recipes and her ingredients would list things like a "handful" of this and a "pinch" of that.  Well, that's good and well, but her hands were bigger than mine!

We love chili at our house, anytime of the year.  My mom's chili was thin with quite a bit of tomato juice, while our other mother made hers thicker with less tomato juice.  Back in 1967 when we joined forces, chili was a culinary clash for both of us, but over the years I passed on the golden spoon to my husband, and now if you're invited to our house for chili, it'll be on the thick side!  And, you'll also probably hear me bragging about it!

Aren't there about a gazillion varieties of homemade chili?  I like to put different toppings on mine, like fritos, raw green onions, black olives, sour cream, and cheese.  And, my chili has to be piping hot, temperature-wise.  For some crazy reason, I've always been able to eat extremely hot foods without burning the inside of my mouth.  When I order a bowl of chili in a restaurant, I always ask them to please nuke it for me so it's steaming!

Just imagine what it was like back in the days when women did their canning in 'summer kitchens.'  There are still some of those little backyard buildings around, but most of them are now used for storage sheds or have been torn down to make room for triple garages, four-wheelers, garden tractors, swing sets and other modern backyard paraphernalia.

Well, I think it's about time I go join the other two out on the patio and tackle the Sunday crossword.  Our friends gave us a loaf of zucchini bread last evening, and I think we'll each have a slice of that garden goody!

Shelter From all Storms

When we go on our day trips, one of the things we're most likely to do in an area is drive through neighborhoods looking at homes, new and old.  If I would have had my brain turned on yesterday, I'd have taken a photo of the stately old home that had two heart-shaped windows.  Talk about cool!

This got me thinking about homes in general.  My preferred style of home is an older one with individual charm and a few flaws.  Our home was built in 1945, is a story and a half, and is all we need to be a family.  It's the house we started out with as a couple, and it will remain so until we move on to perhaps a smaller place that won't require yard work and maintenance.  Something geared more toward geezers!

We Americans are spoiled in that many of us live in the lap of luxury, with amenities that surpass those our parents could not even have imagined.  Every generation gets used to a better standard, and so that standard has kept rising to where now that level of living can quite easily and quickly erode the middle-class wallet. 

Depending where we live on the planet, the resources available to us, the weather and climate, and the location, we have to design our homes accordingly.  The igloo has got to be the most fascinating form of shelter, as are the jungle huts built up in trees.  The tepees used to be portable dwellings that the Indians would dismantle and take with them to another site, and just think what life must've been like for the cliff dwellers way back when.  While thinking about the different sorts of structures, I googled Homes Around The World, and there's a cool website that tells about the world's different and unique housing strategies. 

Overnight we again had a thunderstorm, so I'm told.  I'm a great one for sleeping through, and never hearing, loud claps of thunder.  That in itself amazes me--where do I go that I'm so soundly asleep?  It's like a person shuts off or something.  Probably if I needed to be awake to keep myself safe, then I'd wake up, but I've gotten pretty dependent on the boyfriend to take care of me.  But, there's another side to that story, and that is that our home is built very structurally sound.  If we close the doors and windows, we're pretty much hidden from the elements.  The walls in our house are made out of plaster, and it's very difficult to drive a nail in them without gouging a chunk out just to hang a picture.  We always say it's built like a little brick 'out' house.

Sure, our home is modest, on the small side, and there are those who would turn up their noses at it, but it is our little container that we've filled with memories of countless parties, holiday celebrations, patio picnics, friendly gatherings, our alone times, and I know with absolute certainty that the day is fast approaching when we will have to leave it.  It'll be a tear-jerker for both of us.  But, we'll simply have to buck up and look forward to a new little space that we can make into our final nest.  And, that's exacty what we plan to do.  And, we definitely will take along with us the wooden carving that now hangs on our fireplace.  My hubby carved it, and it quite simply reads, "A Place Where Water Tastes Like Wine."

A Tribute To a Family Pet

Thanks, Ali, for the question you posed in your comment to yesterday's blog regarding what to call a person who isn't either a morning person or a night owl.  In my reply I suggested perhaps "day dreamers," but that doesn't really nail it.  So, I'm throwing this one out there for suggestions from my readers.  What do you think people are called who aren't really morning people or night people?  Let's come up with a name for 'em.  Time to scratch our heads.......

Mr. Coffee is earning its keep in the kitchen.  I'm not exactly sure why the manufacturers of kitchen appliances, like the coffee maker, cannot come up with some way to make them quieter.  Toward the end of its perking cycle, it makes a sound like a kid that won't stop sucking through a straw when he gets to the bottom of a malt cup.

We received sad news last evening that our nephew's family lost their pet Siberian Husky, Z--, who has been part of our family for a good number of years.  My heart aches for them.  The pain of losing a pet is a pain like no other.  The only comfort I can pass on to this gentle little family is to reassure them that they provided Z with the very best life, care, and love that any pet on this earth could ever hope for.  And, that, my dear ones, was very obvious to all of us.  I'm sorry, so sorry, and, we, too, will miss those beautiful chrystal blue eyes.

Our 4-legged friends are just that.  Friends.  Buddies.  Pals.  They're always ready to stand by our side and go along with us wherever we go.  They don't care what we wear, they don't care if our hair is a mess, or about any of our other human silliness. 

Pets leave us with an emptiness that brings torrents of tears and waves of hurt way deep down inside us.  We miss their presence.  Their companionship.  We miss how they walk beside us, communicate with us, warn us of danger, get accustomed to the family routine, and are ever ready to defend and protect.  That is their joy.  That is their fulfillment.  Thank goodness that Our Creator installed in us some sort of mechanism that lets the accumulation of days, months, and years tenderly sew back together the rips inside our torn hearts.

I realize that it's very hard for a sad family to go out and find another pet when this happens, but, yet, after awhile that's the only way to keep that love going--by finding another little canine soul to be the lucky recipient of what I call pooch smooches.  And, heaven knows, this family has an abundance of them!

So, good-bye, Z--, we will all miss you. Your best Siberian friend, A--, must be be lost without you.  You knew it was time to go, as your beautiful life has been fulfilled. In the days ahead, may Our Creator watch over those you have left behind.

Love, Auntie T

Morning Inspirations

Our front window is splattered with raindrops, and the clouds are floating as though something is chasing them.  Early morning thunder and lightning dropped 1-1/2" of rain and made for the perfect morning to roll over and sleep just a little bit longer.  One's pillow feels softer and the deepest slumber often comes right before it's time to get up.

One of the highlights of retirement is not having to set the alarm clock.  After over 40 years of having that annoying little gadget scream at us every morning at 5 o'clock, it is peace on earth to be able to sleep until we feel like getting up.  The result of those many years of being an early riser molded me into a morning person.  Once I have that first cup of strong coffee to clear out the cobwebs, I kick into gear and my brain functions at its best.  Don't they say we're either morning stars or night owls?

I'm thinking of the many things that we label with the first part of the day.  The morning paper, morning glory,  morning sickness, morning coffee, morning after, morning prayer, morning dew, morning edition, morning person, morning call, morning drive, on and on and on and on.  So much of our lives revolves around the early hours, and we forget just how neat it is to have a fresh start every 24 hours.  Reminds me of the Magic Slate we played with as kids.  We could write on it, and then lift the page up, and the writing would magically disappear and, voila, we'd have another "clean slate." 

I once read a poem about how the morning tip-toes around through the darkness looking for the dawn. Poets are gifted with the talent of phrasing their thoughts in such beautiful ways.  I love poetry, but I'm not particularly keen on the rhyming poetry.  I prefer free verse which, to me, is less disciplined.  I've played around writing my own poems over the years, and sometimes the words mysteriously enter my mind and seep their way down through my arms and fingers onto the keyboard without any effort on my part.  Kinda eerie, actually.  Then when I read it, I ask myself, "where'd that come from?"

So it is that morning is fleeting and our day unfolding.  Best scoot and get busy with something or other now that we've nibbled away a few slices of homemade zucchini bread and emptied a pot of coffee.  More than likely the day will pass in a quiet cadence which is as we like it.

Morning once again sings its sweet song!

Please Read Comment

This morning I received a most valuable comment to today's blog "A Smile Is Always In Style."  I encourage you to arrow down to the comment, and you will find a beautiful story about the Smile that my dear friend has shared.  It will bring tears to your eyes and warmth to your heart.  I thank J.T. for adding to the value of our day by sharing this.  Thank you so much!

A Smile Is Always In Style

The other day we ate our lunch at a local pizza restaurant.  One that offers a noon buffet, including broasted chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, and a plentiful salad bar, besides their pizzas.  My hubby, in his usual manner, held the door open for me, and the first thing I saw was a young man behind the counter welcoming us with the most beautiful smile.  His smile was pleasantly genuine, and his eyes danced along with the happy rhythm of that smile.  When he took our money and gave us our glasses, he asked if we'd care to order a special kind of pizza.  He said they'd make anything we'd like. 

This little old girl was reeling from his smile (wondering what I'd do with him if I was 18), and I blurted out, "would you please make me a taco pizza?"  Omigod, he was a dream boat and I was willing to sail away with him!  He fit perfectly in the proverbial "tall, dark and handsome" category.  We were seated with our salads when the owner brought two plates and the taco pizza to our table, asked how many pieces we'd like, served us, and then put the pizza on the buffet line.

You know, it's service like that one can't help but praise.  But, more than the service, what impressed me the most was the young man's smile.  I would be incredibly honored to have that young man for my son.  I surely hope his real mother realizes what a gold nugget she has in her life.  During the course of our meal, he checked on us a couple of times to see if we were doing okay and to remove empty plates. 

As we were getting ready to leave the restaurant, he thanked us for coming.  I just couldn't leave without saying something to him about his beautiful smile.  You know, my simple compliment made him so happy, that his eyes instantly got watery and he kindly thanked me.  I strongly feel that our young people need to know of our positive observations and approval.  It's tough being a kid these days, and when we see them doing a good job at whatever it is they're doing, it's a good thing to pass on a heartfelt comment.  A person just never knows how critical that bit of respect may be to them. 

Wouldn't it be just the neatest if, when he's an old man, he'd tell his grandchildren the story about the time he worked in a pizza joint and a lady told him he had a beautiful smile and how that one compliment changed his life?

Perspective Is Key

Don't know what's the matter with me today.  My brain isn't kicking into gear, and I'm not in the mood to do anything very exciting.  When this happens, I go into my "turtle mode."  That is, I retreat inside my shell and stay there.  Some would call it a state of depression, but I call it a state of expression.  If I don't feel like doing anything, hey, I'm not gonna.  Sort of like when we were kids, and we'd say, "You can't make me!"

Everyone needs to shut down once in awhile.  I have days where I don't feel like showering, so I don't.  There are days I simply putz with only the things I like to do, and I don't think that's being selfish.  It's more that old philosophy of "Be True to Thineself."  This business of dancing to someone else's drummer, simply makes no sense to me.  Especially in retirement.  This is our one and only chance to be ourselves, and we don't have to prove ourselves to anyone anymore.  We've been there, done that.  Amen.

To be honest, today it feels like my drive has driven away.  But, I'm very content.  Is that another of the life passages that I'm always talking about?  Surely contentment cannot be viewed as a bad thing.  We have to put our brakes on if we really want to see the genuine world we miss when we're accelerating through our days.  Take for instance yesterday.  We took another one of our lazy afternoon drives and meandered our way along the roadways marveling for miles at the Queen Anne's Lace that has highly populated the roadsides.  Of course, perspective has everything to do with one's idea of Queen Anne's Lace.  Is it a weed or a flower? 

Of course, I consider it a beautiful flower.  The underside of the lacy plant is the reason it's also known as "Bird's Nest."  It's absolutely worth one's while to take the time to closely examine the structure of this marvelous plant.  It's commonly known as Wild Carrot, too.  (Not to be confused with the yellowish Wild Parsnip that is becoming a real nasty roadside nuisance.)

Our Creator instilled so many little gifts in us that remain hidden until we reach our 60s.  Anyway, that's what I'm finding out.  I see myself using the "pause button" more often.  I stop and take a second look.   I feel my eyes working harder to capture and hold onto special moments so I can replay them again when I close my eyes at night.

Every day I thank My Creator for giving me my life.  Despite all the trials and tribulations, the losses and the tears, I've emerged vertically and am experiencing a contented acceptance that I couldn't have imagined even existed.  There has got to be a Divine Design that makes a gazillion things happen simultaneously for any one of our moments to occur.  The intricate system of Life on Earth is mind-boggling, and I don't know why I struggle to figure it out when I know it's humanly impossible. 

Come to think of it, this is truly the ideal day to kick back, put my feet up, and count my blessings.  And, let me add that if you are reading my blog---please know that you will be counted among them!

Autumn and Our Bean Pole

Here we go once again......starting a new week!  It seems to me that the week starts on Monday, but the calendar says the week starts on Sunday.  Hmmmm....   

We spent a quiet weekend.  Went for a drive with no special destination late yesterday afternoon, simply admiring the corn that is standing so stately with tassels pointing to the sky.  The oats harvest has gotten under way, and the fields are dotted with the big round bales of amber straw.

A couple days ago we bought a dozen ears of sweetcorn from a roadside vendor, and I questioned why she charged us only $3.  A person almost drools anticipating the season's first meal of sweetcorn, so it was with high hopes we sat down to the table with our bibs on.  All hopes were shattered with that first bite.  It was like, omigod, the most godawful stuff.  The ears were small and the corn was tough and tasteless. When it comes to buying sweetcorn, beware of the low prices. 

The summer is buzzing by, and soon we'll be into August and once again stopping behind school buses with red lights flashing as they pick up the kiddies.  We haven't vacationed yet this summer but are thinking about maybe going somewhere for a few days in September or October when the mosquitoes are gone and the air is crisper.  It's difficult finding pet-friendly resorts, and I can't say that I blame the resort owners.  So it is that we will continue to look online for a place that will accommodate our whole family.

We've been savoring our home-grown cherry tomatoes that are growing in a planter on the patio.  Ooooh, they're so good and juicy.  I'm sharing a picture of our bean pole right beside our patio.  We planted a few sunflowers, too, beside our little smokehouse back of the house.  Don't think our zuchinni are going to be too productive this year.  I like to freeze zuchinni to add to soups and hot dishes in the wintertime, so we'll pick some up at the roadside markets, along with butternut and acorn squash.

Don't you just love the feel of autumn and the harvest time? I guess if I'd have to choose a favorite season of the four, I'd pick autumn.  My hubby and I got married the end of September, and my bridesmaids dresses were hand-sewn by a local seamstress out of brown velvet trimmed with gold velvet.  Very simple, but I thought very elegant and appropriate for that time of year.  My parents were married in November of 1936, and Mom's bridesmaids wore velvet, too.  So, it was no accident that mine resembled hers.

I guess people change the way the seasons change.  Childhood is our Spring, ages 20-50 our Summer, ages 50-75 our Autumn, and 75+ our Winter.  Does that seem about right?  All I know is that  I'm gonna do whatever it takes to make the most out of every blasted minute of my Autumn and hope to high heaven my Winter will be long--but not too long.  I just don't want to have to give Dr. Kevorkian a jingle!

Mugs and Matters of the Heart

Our 3-some here had a slumber party downstairs last night because of the heat.  Even though we have central air, the upstairs just doesn't cool down.  The smooch pooch is the one that was most miserable, and she laid on the bed panting until finally we decided we'd let her call the shots-----again!

It's fun to shake up one's routine once in awhile, so doing stuff like camping downstairs, for us, is kinda fun.  We got out bedsheets, brought our pillows downstairs, and we each grabbed a couch.  The smooch pooch is an incredibly loyal little girl, so she slept on the floor between the den and  livingroom, right smack between us.

Right now I'm sipping coffee and hubby is out for his morning walk.  If you'd come to our home, you'd notice that none of our coffee mugs match.  That's because over the years we'd buy mugs to bring home with us from trips.  A mug didn't take up much room in the car, so made the perfect souvenir.

The mug I'm using this morning is one that a former co-worker gave to me before he left the office for another job in another state.  It was the mug he drank coffee from while we worked together, and every time I choose it from among the mix, I think of him. The mug is a 1984 Hardee's Rise and Shine mug.  Wonder where life took P.O.  People who move out of our lives sort of disappear into thin air, and most likely we won't ever see one another again.  Yet, I'm still having coffee with him and his coffee mug.

Storm warnings were in our forecast for overnight, but neither of us heard any thunder.  Am to the point now where I'm waiting for cool fall air to move in so I can bring out my sweatshirts.  Loose-fitting and comfy, that's me.

I've got to boast that yesterday I got my yellow star as an eBay seller/buyer.  That's the first level star one gets, so it's like I've reached the first rung on the bottom of the ladder.  But, for me, that's success.  Three months ago I didn't know how to go about selling, but after I took a local 2-day class I am putting things up for sale and am learning something new with each transaction.  I started with small items that were low-priced, but now I'm stretching out a little bit and putting out some of the things that have been hidden away for years that will bring me a bit more moolah.  Of course, there are eBay fees and postage costs, etc., but I couldn't have a more fun challenge in Life #2 (a/k/a/ retirement).   So far I've shipped items off to California, Florida, Iowa, and Georgia. 

I'm parting with my childhood toys, the few that have gone full circle with me.  I came across a box the other day that had been packed away since forever, and inside the box I found the plastic furniture from my doll house that I had when I was a little girl.  We lived in an old stone house, and it had very thick limestone window sills.  My doll house sat up in the window sill, and I stood on the davenport (sofa) to play in it.  That's how small I was.  Gosh, if only my doll house were still with me.  Hmmmmm.

Maybe it's a life passage when we reach the junction where we are ready to pass on or sell the things that meant the most to us.  If it's a life passage, then I'm there.  Letting go is a great part of life in so many respects.  Maybe there should be an eleventh Commandment, "Thou shalt let go.....when it's time."

My hubby is back from his walk and wants me to join him out on the patio.  So, that's what I shall do.  Sunday blessings to all who follow my blog!  Ta-ta.

Scary How Much We're Alike...