I do not condone marital infidelity.
However, my dear husband made a comment today that got me to thinking.
Tiger is being destroyed by all the media and public's condemnation as well as losing mega-money endorsements.
But what happened in the case of our dear Mr. Clinton?
His 'activities' were swept under the rug.
Slapped on the wrist.
Wink. Wink. Wink.
This man continues to generate large amounts of income from appearances.
I cannot even come near an acceptance of this activity, but in reality, aren't we lashing out at infidelity at this sports figure because he is so vulnerable and accessible?
Yes, he makes an obscene amount of money, and, as it was mentioned, "Why can't these ridiculously rich young men keep their pants zipped?"
But what about our former President?
This leaves me so puzzled.
It is like the old 'notch on the bed post' mentality in reverse.
Tiger is an equal partner in this, but the women also deserve to be vilified.
Kathy Lee Gifford said it very nicely as she 'talked out of school' about the one young woman that had been interviewed earlier in the morning on the Today show. The mentality of these young women leave a great deal to be desired.
It is also the fault of the women that pursue such men. I have no sympathy for them. I should, but I can't. I ask for the Lord's help in forgiveness.
I do hope that all this media attention will go away. I am tired of hearing it 'ad nauseam'.
I am sorry if I step on toes and I hope I haven't bored you with this, I just need to vent.
Let us get back to stories about this beautiful season of the year.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Moderation
I apologize for not realizing that I had comments to moderate on. I haven't been on the computer much lately and I guess it shows. The comments have been read and posted.
Thank you so much for all your kind comments.
I tried stitching today and after finding an error after 15 stitches, I decided it might be best to stop and put it away for the day. I should have just turned on the football game for hubby instead of watching two Christmas movies. I am a sucker for Christmas movies and went on a 'Santa Clause' marathon last month. I stitch very well to football games, lol.
It is now after four in the morning on Monday, and I guess I should just go to bed. My nap must have been too long this afternoon. Trouble is, I needed that nap, however it seems to be redundant when I can't go to bed at bedtime. Right?
I will try to add more photos to my blog, as I do love stitching and I do a good job on the backs. Even son has made comment on that. Got a large 'vest button-popping' on that comment.
I am hoping to sign in in the near future, but in case I don't, I wish everyone out there a safe, safe driving season for the holidays. I would hate to lose any of you out there.
Have a marvelous holiday season, enjoy it with family and friends, and enjoy all those special meals with all those good, traditional recipes.
Huggs to all.
Thank you so much for all your kind comments.
I tried stitching today and after finding an error after 15 stitches, I decided it might be best to stop and put it away for the day. I should have just turned on the football game for hubby instead of watching two Christmas movies. I am a sucker for Christmas movies and went on a 'Santa Clause' marathon last month. I stitch very well to football games, lol.
It is now after four in the morning on Monday, and I guess I should just go to bed. My nap must have been too long this afternoon. Trouble is, I needed that nap, however it seems to be redundant when I can't go to bed at bedtime. Right?
I will try to add more photos to my blog, as I do love stitching and I do a good job on the backs. Even son has made comment on that. Got a large 'vest button-popping' on that comment.
I am hoping to sign in in the near future, but in case I don't, I wish everyone out there a safe, safe driving season for the holidays. I would hate to lose any of you out there.
Have a marvelous holiday season, enjoy it with family and friends, and enjoy all those special meals with all those good, traditional recipes.
Huggs to all.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
heat
Just looked at another post I made and am happy to report that after surviving two to four nites of being miserably cold in bed, I turned the heat on along with a prayer on October 2 this year. a whole 21 days before last year!
Hubby didn't say anything when he came home, but must have remembered that I was in fleece pj's and socks with the addition of a fleece jacket and blankets pulled up to the nose the nite before. He did turn the heat down from 65 to 60 today, but he was in the bedroom where the lights and tv make it warm in there.
So, I is happy as clam. A warm, cozy clam.
Hubby didn't say anything when he came home, but must have remembered that I was in fleece pj's and socks with the addition of a fleece jacket and blankets pulled up to the nose the nite before. He did turn the heat down from 65 to 60 today, but he was in the bedroom where the lights and tv make it warm in there.
So, I is happy as clam. A warm, cozy clam.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Patrick Swayze/Johnny Castle,"Time Of My Life'
Last night as my husband was logging in to his email site, the Yahoo blurb had a picture of Patrick Swayze and the headline that he had passed away at 57. He said "OHHH, Patrick Swayze died." It sounded as though he felt the loss also.
I am weeping as I type, as this is the ONE man that made me feel like I could have been a beautiful dancer.
This man and the movie 'Dirty Dancing' is such a part of every woman's love life out here.
Patrick Swayze/Johnny Castle will be the dance partner I never had with my big, 6'3" football husband to my tiny stature of 5' 2.5".
It is so terribly sad that the men in our lives don't understand that 'Pounding the Ground' with our feet with the swaying and moving our bodies in ancestral/tribal dancing gets our libido/juices moving.
Have they ever wondered why men and women come off the dance floor with these huge grins on their faces?
There is nothing sissy, homophobic or wrong with tribal dancing, yes even the slow dances......It is their big loss.
And, unfortunately, ours.
Patrick, God's Peace to you.
Thank You for being my Heart's Dancing Partner.
I will miss your flying feet, lithe body, and killer smile forever. You fought long and hard, and now you deserve to rest in God's Peace forever.
Lisa Niemi, "Thank You" for sharing your husband with us, our hearts are grieving along with you. Don't ever stop dancing.
I woke up this morning wth the song in my mind and heart, "The Time of My Life" with Bill Medley and Jennifer Warne. It is a beautiful song, and the lyrics are a tribute to Patrick Swayze, his dancing partner Jennifer Grey, and to all of us out here that love "Dirty Dancing".
I always wanted to be a dancer.
In my heart I am.
I am weeping as I type, as this is the ONE man that made me feel like I could have been a beautiful dancer.
This man and the movie 'Dirty Dancing' is such a part of every woman's love life out here.
Patrick Swayze/Johnny Castle will be the dance partner I never had with my big, 6'3" football husband to my tiny stature of 5' 2.5".
It is so terribly sad that the men in our lives don't understand that 'Pounding the Ground' with our feet with the swaying and moving our bodies in ancestral/tribal dancing gets our libido/juices moving.
Have they ever wondered why men and women come off the dance floor with these huge grins on their faces?
There is nothing sissy, homophobic or wrong with tribal dancing, yes even the slow dances......It is their big loss.
And, unfortunately, ours.
Patrick, God's Peace to you.
Thank You for being my Heart's Dancing Partner.
I will miss your flying feet, lithe body, and killer smile forever. You fought long and hard, and now you deserve to rest in God's Peace forever.
Lisa Niemi, "Thank You" for sharing your husband with us, our hearts are grieving along with you. Don't ever stop dancing.
I woke up this morning wth the song in my mind and heart, "The Time of My Life" with Bill Medley and Jennifer Warne. It is a beautiful song, and the lyrics are a tribute to Patrick Swayze, his dancing partner Jennifer Grey, and to all of us out here that love "Dirty Dancing".
I always wanted to be a dancer.
In my heart I am.
Friday, September 4, 2009
My Dad
It's been a while.
My Dad is in the Elim Care and Rehab here in town because he fell in the bathroom at his apartment. He wasn't using his walker and fell, and wanted to go to the hospital a couple of weeks ago. We don't know why he wanted to go, but I have a feeling that it is perhaps the suggestion of the nurse at his residence.
At 94, my siblings and I have conferred that it is a good possibility that he will be unable to return to his apartment. Dad doesn't know this yet. He may have an inkling, but nothing has been mentioned to him by our daughter Margaret or myself. Hopefully the staff there has not said anything.
We are still in the process of finding him a residence that will give him his meds and supervise his activities and so that he has better supervision.
Margaret has taken over the basic care of shaving him, actively supervising his showers oce a week and doing his laundry and when he was at his apartment, going down about three days a week in order to change the dressing to keep his legs healed. He had a pretty big hole in the skin from bumping the shin and washing his skin too hard.
We did go to Cambridge, but the facility that was recommended did not have an opening for a male resident at this time.
There is a facility in Milaca other than the Elim residence, and we will go again to see if they have a room available and check cost again.
This is very hard to do.
I hope that he doesn't miss his friends too much from the apartment/senior residence he was living in. He cannot go back. They have already told the woman in charge of admissions at the Elim Care and Rehab that he will have to be put on their special program if he comes back. That means at least a start of $150.00 for an assessment, and the charge to join it is $85.00 per month, each month to give him his meds and check on him 2-3 times per day. I don't know if this will include all he needs, such as therapy and getting him ready for bed. I am sure that it will cost extra for each service he will need.
I am trying to keep him safe, and living on his own is not safe any longer.
I ask for your prayers to help us find a good facility for him to live that he can afford close to us, and for the strength we will need to continue with this. I also ask for prayers for Margaret who has been relieving me of all the chores. Ask in your prayers for strength for her.
God Bless....
My Dad is in the Elim Care and Rehab here in town because he fell in the bathroom at his apartment. He wasn't using his walker and fell, and wanted to go to the hospital a couple of weeks ago. We don't know why he wanted to go, but I have a feeling that it is perhaps the suggestion of the nurse at his residence.
At 94, my siblings and I have conferred that it is a good possibility that he will be unable to return to his apartment. Dad doesn't know this yet. He may have an inkling, but nothing has been mentioned to him by our daughter Margaret or myself. Hopefully the staff there has not said anything.
We are still in the process of finding him a residence that will give him his meds and supervise his activities and so that he has better supervision.
Margaret has taken over the basic care of shaving him, actively supervising his showers oce a week and doing his laundry and when he was at his apartment, going down about three days a week in order to change the dressing to keep his legs healed. He had a pretty big hole in the skin from bumping the shin and washing his skin too hard.
We did go to Cambridge, but the facility that was recommended did not have an opening for a male resident at this time.
There is a facility in Milaca other than the Elim residence, and we will go again to see if they have a room available and check cost again.
This is very hard to do.
I hope that he doesn't miss his friends too much from the apartment/senior residence he was living in. He cannot go back. They have already told the woman in charge of admissions at the Elim Care and Rehab that he will have to be put on their special program if he comes back. That means at least a start of $150.00 for an assessment, and the charge to join it is $85.00 per month, each month to give him his meds and check on him 2-3 times per day. I don't know if this will include all he needs, such as therapy and getting him ready for bed. I am sure that it will cost extra for each service he will need.
I am trying to keep him safe, and living on his own is not safe any longer.
I ask for your prayers to help us find a good facility for him to live that he can afford close to us, and for the strength we will need to continue with this. I also ask for prayers for Margaret who has been relieving me of all the chores. Ask in your prayers for strength for her.
God Bless....
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Some of the stitched gifts and WIP projects I am currently or have worked on.
This is a set of a bib, burp and changing pad that I stitched for a friend's grand-daughter. I loved that lamb, and most likely will do the three again for another baby-to-be soon. I will delete the fur splotches on the rabbit next time though. I added those to the pattern, and did not like the finished results. All had balloons attached and I think the balloons did nothing for the animals, so will delete those also. All in all, I loved stitching the lamb the most. The pattern is by Lorri Birmingham in a Leisure Arts hardcover book called "Quick as a Wink".~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This is one of my favourite violet patterns. I have just recently 're-discovered' this pattern. I am putting all my violet patterns in one loose-leaf notebook. I find that I enjoy stitching these little purple harbingers of spring the most of all flowers.
I stitched this as a vinyl mug insert for a stitching group's mug insert exchange. I never heard back from her if she liked it or not. I think I got a gingerbread insert back. I don't know, she never signed it. I guess I am not into 'cutesy' patterns, but that is most likely what she likes. It is on my bedroom table next to the bed to hold hair clips, pencils, etc..
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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This is a work in progress. I need to get it done. It has not been worked on for a while because of other pressing stitchings that have popped up for other people. I have just a few more flowers to outline and the center words to put in. It is a Dimensions pattern and found the Dimensions conversion chart to DMC. I prefer the DMC floss as it is a much brighter, cleaner floss. Time to find it and put it back in the Q-Snaps to work on. I kind of got tired of it, if you will.....it is a lot of 'puttsy' color changes. But I do need to finish it and go on.
I do have more stitchings to post, and will do so when I have more time.
Counted cross stitch is an enduring passion that I have and I did take two years off from doing any stitching to learn how to knit. I am more than ready to get back to stitching.
I have learned the basics of knitting, and know where to find help if a pattern really 'grabs' me, but don't hold your breath. I really prefer counted cross stitch. BUT, as I said, I will wait for a pattern to really grab me in order to pick up those needles again. There is the felted, knitted bag that I do want to try though. Hey I am a 'Bag Lady' par excellence, if you will.
The one nice thing about knitting, is that I don't have to go 'cross-eyed' trying to get that needle tip into the hole in the cross stitch fabric in a bouncing truck. The Cadillac we owned on the trip to California allowed for marvelous cross stitching time. Nice and smooooooth.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Webshots concerns
There seems to be a lot of Webshots usage. Here is part of a posting to a couple of people in a stitching group, but think everyone else should be aware of it.
Here it is:
"By the way, did you know that the company 'Webshots' uses your photos without asking your permission?
I saw an ad for the company recently, totally out of the blue on the net, and was surprised to see and recognize a gift towel that 'I' had stitched for a friend for an exchange, in another stitching club.
I was never notified, nor more importantly, even asked, if I minded that they used my photo as part of their ads.
I had recognized it because I couldn't figure out what it (the pattern) was and what pattern I had used before in one of my albums. I had to ask the lady I stitched it for what it was.
You might want to reconsider putting photos in there, and placing them on your own blog with your blog address if you want to point people to your works..... You will never know how Webshots will use your work without your permission."
Blogs are easy to find and to start your own is easy. Hey, if this old lady can do it, anyone can, believe me.....try "blogspot.com" for one....a wonderful place to be. That is where I have mine and it is free.
Huggs,
Cait
Here it is:
"By the way, did you know that the company 'Webshots' uses your photos without asking your permission?
I saw an ad for the company recently, totally out of the blue on the net, and was surprised to see and recognize a gift towel that 'I' had stitched for a friend for an exchange, in another stitching club.
I was never notified, nor more importantly, even asked, if I minded that they used my photo as part of their ads.
I had recognized it because I couldn't figure out what it (the pattern) was and what pattern I had used before in one of my albums. I had to ask the lady I stitched it for what it was.
You might want to reconsider putting photos in there, and placing them on your own blog with your blog address if you want to point people to your works..... You will never know how Webshots will use your work without your permission."
Blogs are easy to find and to start your own is easy. Hey, if this old lady can do it, anyone can, believe me.....try "blogspot.com" for one....a wonderful place to be. That is where I have mine and it is free.
Huggs,
Cait
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Twitter-ing
I just tried to access Twitter.
I am not fond of all this twittering going on (even though I signed on early in the Twitter opening), especially since they limit the length of the message.
You can't really get into the 'meat' of any thought with such little space to do it in.
But I think that is all related to our 'young' society.
Hop here, hop there, hop somewhere else. Not giving time and length to anything substantial.
Does anyone out there remember having to memorize poetry in school? Wanna bet that it is only us 'older' generation that had to do that? I am waiting for all this twittering nonsense to run it's course and something more enjoyable for us 'older, saner' generation to be able converse in. But, I love emails, so that doesn't count. You can hold conversations, back and forth, on those.
I couldn't get in, by the way, because I couldn't remember my user name and or password. Arrrgh!
I am not fond of all this twittering going on (even though I signed on early in the Twitter opening), especially since they limit the length of the message.
You can't really get into the 'meat' of any thought with such little space to do it in.
But I think that is all related to our 'young' society.
Hop here, hop there, hop somewhere else. Not giving time and length to anything substantial.
Does anyone out there remember having to memorize poetry in school? Wanna bet that it is only us 'older' generation that had to do that? I am waiting for all this twittering nonsense to run it's course and something more enjoyable for us 'older, saner' generation to be able converse in. But, I love emails, so that doesn't count. You can hold conversations, back and forth, on those.
I couldn't get in, by the way, because I couldn't remember my user name and or password. Arrrgh!
Monday, April 27, 2009
Bea Arthur
I am a child of the 50's and 60's, being born in the early 40's.
Growing old has never been a looking-forward-to occupation. All my female elders looked 'so old' at 50, like my grandmother looked.
We were the generation that enjoyed rock 'n roll at its birth. Elvis, The Beatles, the Hippie phenomena with the peace 'explosion' at Haight Ashbury in San Francisco, Woodstock, and all the rest. I yearned to be involved, but missed being actively involved with the last two.
We owned a big, boxy motor home in the late 60's and I remember driving it and a 'youngster' drove by and flashed me the 'peace' sign. That was a monumental day. A mother with three little ones getting flashed the peace sign and an approval vote for driving the humongous motor home down the road.
Then reality set in. I was getting old. I didn't like how I looked. The hair was allowed to grow and got parted down the middle. I sought out books that allowed me to make clothing in the 'hippie' style. Loved those tops and shirts.
As I aged, resistance was a great part of my life.
Then Golden Girls became a program of 'Life'.
I watched and absolutely loved Bea Arthur's role. Here was a 'with-it', sassy, spoke-out-for-what-she-felt attitude woman and the took-no-prisoners type of character.
She had grey hair, was tall and dressed in flowing garments with those marvelous tall, suede desert boots. She had issues with her tiny mother and still loved her for all of it.
She showed me how to live gracefully and graciously with age.
Yes, I do know it was just a figment of a writer's imagination brought to life by an actress....but oh, how she brought it to life. With grace and graciousness and wonderful 'verve'. Maude was another of the shows she starred in. Same premise, but different situations and relationships and done equally as well as 'Golden Girls'.
I found my leader of sorts. Bea made all her roles 'believable', acted in and showed situations that were similar to real life and did it with the loveliness of age and wisdom. Giving us a road map to follow.
I may not have wisdom in abundance, but remembering this lovely woman with a great deal of sadness in the announcement this morning of her passing away.
Thank you Bea. You made 'getting old' something to attain with a generous dose of grace and love, but most importantly - humour.
I will miss you greatly.
Love and Huggs, Cait
Growing old has never been a looking-forward-to occupation. All my female elders looked 'so old' at 50, like my grandmother looked.
We were the generation that enjoyed rock 'n roll at its birth. Elvis, The Beatles, the Hippie phenomena with the peace 'explosion' at Haight Ashbury in San Francisco, Woodstock, and all the rest. I yearned to be involved, but missed being actively involved with the last two.
We owned a big, boxy motor home in the late 60's and I remember driving it and a 'youngster' drove by and flashed me the 'peace' sign. That was a monumental day. A mother with three little ones getting flashed the peace sign and an approval vote for driving the humongous motor home down the road.
Then reality set in. I was getting old. I didn't like how I looked. The hair was allowed to grow and got parted down the middle. I sought out books that allowed me to make clothing in the 'hippie' style. Loved those tops and shirts.
As I aged, resistance was a great part of my life.
Then Golden Girls became a program of 'Life'.
I watched and absolutely loved Bea Arthur's role. Here was a 'with-it', sassy, spoke-out-for-what-she-felt attitude woman and the took-no-prisoners type of character.
She had grey hair, was tall and dressed in flowing garments with those marvelous tall, suede desert boots. She had issues with her tiny mother and still loved her for all of it.
She showed me how to live gracefully and graciously with age.
Yes, I do know it was just a figment of a writer's imagination brought to life by an actress....but oh, how she brought it to life. With grace and graciousness and wonderful 'verve'. Maude was another of the shows she starred in. Same premise, but different situations and relationships and done equally as well as 'Golden Girls'.
I found my leader of sorts. Bea made all her roles 'believable', acted in and showed situations that were similar to real life and did it with the loveliness of age and wisdom. Giving us a road map to follow.
I may not have wisdom in abundance, but remembering this lovely woman with a great deal of sadness in the announcement this morning of her passing away.
Thank you Bea. You made 'getting old' something to attain with a generous dose of grace and love, but most importantly - humour.
I will miss you greatly.
Love and Huggs, Cait
Friday, April 24, 2009
Hubby is down in the cities doing his thing of 'garage saling'.
I do not go with.
Let me qualify.
First of all, if he left from home, and I was going along, it would mean that I would have to get up at 2 in order to be coherent enought to leave at 4.
That.
Is.
4 A.M., people.
Four!
Do I look nuts?
Did I also mention that I am NOT a morning person?
I need caffeinated beverages in order to not show fangs and snarl and attack with claws.
I am not a particularly good caffeine person.
It is called a 'sensitivity' to caffeine. Took 100 cups of coffee/day while in college with three babies to get that way.
Sensitivity, not babies.
So he is off doing his thing and loving every minute of it. It is very similar to the cave man going out and hunting for the survival of his family. Gets very hairy out there for the 'beast' in the hunt. He does very well at it, and he has a group out there with him that love it just as much.
MY problem is that when I do go, I 'shop' for me or the house. Love knitting and especially my passion of 30+ years, counted cross stitch supplies. I bought the best, partially-completed leaf tablecloth that I finished and cannot tell where the old stitching ended and mine started.
I do not go to buy to resell. Part of my problem. I see things for me, not to sell and make money.
First of all, I do not have 'The Eye'. Which in transation, means, you know what you can buy for little or less money and sell for much more of the stuff.
Second, did I mention that you have to get up VERY early to do so. Yes, I know you are usually done by ten, and then you get to take a very satisfying nap around 10:45 after a very good breakfast, but you need to get up early! While it is still dark! Hmmpf.
I guess I will be satisfied to stay warm, comfy and cozy in my bed and do some stitching.
Or blogging.
Let me know if you see my husband 'sail' on by and where he is at.
Take care everyone.
I do not go with.
Let me qualify.
First of all, if he left from home, and I was going along, it would mean that I would have to get up at 2 in order to be coherent enought to leave at 4.
That.
Is.
4 A.M., people.
Four!
Do I look nuts?
Did I also mention that I am NOT a morning person?
I need caffeinated beverages in order to not show fangs and snarl and attack with claws.
I am not a particularly good caffeine person.
It is called a 'sensitivity' to caffeine. Took 100 cups of coffee/day while in college with three babies to get that way.
Sensitivity, not babies.
So he is off doing his thing and loving every minute of it. It is very similar to the cave man going out and hunting for the survival of his family. Gets very hairy out there for the 'beast' in the hunt. He does very well at it, and he has a group out there with him that love it just as much.
MY problem is that when I do go, I 'shop' for me or the house. Love knitting and especially my passion of 30+ years, counted cross stitch supplies. I bought the best, partially-completed leaf tablecloth that I finished and cannot tell where the old stitching ended and mine started.
I do not go to buy to resell. Part of my problem. I see things for me, not to sell and make money.
First of all, I do not have 'The Eye'. Which in transation, means, you know what you can buy for little or less money and sell for much more of the stuff.
Second, did I mention that you have to get up VERY early to do so. Yes, I know you are usually done by ten, and then you get to take a very satisfying nap around 10:45 after a very good breakfast, but you need to get up early! While it is still dark! Hmmpf.
I guess I will be satisfied to stay warm, comfy and cozy in my bed and do some stitching.
Or blogging.
Let me know if you see my husband 'sail' on by and where he is at.
Take care everyone.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
While going through my email, I somehow stumbled upon a lady's blog that mentioned her grand mom visiting them in the depraved, outlandish area of Oklahoma from civilized Chicago and showing us the fabric she 'leaped over two old ladies pawing through the poly knit fabric' or something to that effect and showed us the purse she had made with a vivid thought of her grand mom in dresses with similar fabric. That brought to mind my own memory of a fabric so very, very similar to the one she showed.
This is the memory.
When my two girls were about to make their First Communions in the 60's, 'Moi', always yearning to be a San Francisco 'Hippie', but never attaining that status being a northern, mid-western-stated wife, divorced, then the pariah single mom back then in the 60's, made my two adorable girls their First Communion dresses. White on white printed fabric, empire style, with orange and pink floral panel 'aprons' attached to the front empire seam. No veils, no headdresses. Just clean, glowingly shining, parted down the middle Hippie Hair. Totally and innocently beautiful! I am sure all the other mothers were totally outraged that these two little 'Brides of Christ' were outfitted thusly. But you know what, that fabric eased the sting of being the 'pariah single mom' in those years. I was the first single, divorced woman in that neighborhood of 'couples' in suburbia.
Her purse floral fabric is blue, now imagine it in outrageous oranges and pinks with a splash of yellow thrown in and you have my precious two daughters First Communion 'aprons'!
This is the memory.
When my two girls were about to make their First Communions in the 60's, 'Moi', always yearning to be a San Francisco 'Hippie', but never attaining that status being a northern, mid-western-stated wife, divorced, then the pariah single mom back then in the 60's, made my two adorable girls their First Communion dresses. White on white printed fabric, empire style, with orange and pink floral panel 'aprons' attached to the front empire seam. No veils, no headdresses. Just clean, glowingly shining, parted down the middle Hippie Hair. Totally and innocently beautiful! I am sure all the other mothers were totally outraged that these two little 'Brides of Christ' were outfitted thusly. But you know what, that fabric eased the sting of being the 'pariah single mom' in those years. I was the first single, divorced woman in that neighborhood of 'couples' in suburbia.
Her purse floral fabric is blue, now imagine it in outrageous oranges and pinks with a splash of yellow thrown in and you have my precious two daughters First Communion 'aprons'!
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
still have some fauna around
Good morning everyone,
well at 9:30 this morning while I was setting up the laptop on the desk, I observed my woodchuck and my wild rabbit in the yard. Took too much time to get the binoculars on the woodchuck, but my bunny seems to be well and sassy.
The original thought was what do woodchucks do? Haven't the foggiest, but it is nice to see that this one survived our particularly nasty winter. I knew the rabbit was around in the winter, and frequently threw out bread and tortillas for the bunny population, mainly to keep it away from hubby's, young Father's Day gift from daughter and son-in-law of a Norwegian Maple. Somewhere along the line, I failed and part of the maple's trunk was chewed, or blistered from the extreme cold we had this winter. Will have to see if it survived.
For those of you that don't know what a Norwegian Maple is, it is a maple tree, engineered here at the University of Minnesota, with lighter, creamier-green edges. If you see just all green leaves on the tree, you need to clip those off or the tree will revert to all green leaves. We have two and they are a delightful light green bright spot in the yard. There is a full grown Norwegian Maple in the Roseville, Minnesota, area and it is spectacular!
well at 9:30 this morning while I was setting up the laptop on the desk, I observed my woodchuck and my wild rabbit in the yard. Took too much time to get the binoculars on the woodchuck, but my bunny seems to be well and sassy.
The original thought was what do woodchucks do? Haven't the foggiest, but it is nice to see that this one survived our particularly nasty winter. I knew the rabbit was around in the winter, and frequently threw out bread and tortillas for the bunny population, mainly to keep it away from hubby's, young Father's Day gift from daughter and son-in-law of a Norwegian Maple. Somewhere along the line, I failed and part of the maple's trunk was chewed, or blistered from the extreme cold we had this winter. Will have to see if it survived.
For those of you that don't know what a Norwegian Maple is, it is a maple tree, engineered here at the University of Minnesota, with lighter, creamier-green edges. If you see just all green leaves on the tree, you need to clip those off or the tree will revert to all green leaves. We have two and they are a delightful light green bright spot in the yard. There is a full grown Norwegian Maple in the Roseville, Minnesota, area and it is spectacular!
Monday, April 13, 2009
SETTING BIOLOGICAL CLOCKS
Good Morning everyone.....
It is Monday, April 13, 2009, and it is 11:30 in the morning.
My thermometer outside reads 52 degrees. I am sooo ready for spring-ier weather and warmth. I don't generally mind winter, well, except when you are the recipient of the unexpected 'black ice' swishy-swerve across a small bridge covering a branch of the Rum River.
Most of the time I look upon winter as a time of re-grouping, nesting in, cozy times with a blanket and a stash of knitting, my passion of 30+ years in counted cross stitch, reading which is a life-long passion, etc., and in hubby's case, American Idol (Yuck-o) and not necessarily in that order.
After years of dreading the winter when having to work out in the unheated (except for the kilns) and uninsulated barn with our pottery, we no longer have to. Bobby's hands going through icy glaze or near ice clay has been a painful experience. So Winter has become a time of reflection for me.
I have cancelled many an appointment in the cities, 65 + miles to the south, this past winter. Not because I am a wimp, but because many of the cancellations have included my 93 year old Father in the blend of things. I will not put him at risk (more than the normal amount of risk required for transporting him in regular, maniac, stupid kids AND ADULTS comprising of and in general population of driving traffic) in extremely bad weather.
I have a small 'chick-pickup'...a 2000 Ford Ranger. I dearly love that little pickup and am constantly surprised to see men driving one. I will go on record here that it is the perfect truck for a female. Even a short little turd like me. The only thing that I am not fond of is the fact that the tail end is 'swishy' in icy or snowy conditions. But with the 4-wheel drive, and slower, reasonable speeds, I have made it home safely. The book says to not go faster than 45 mph when in 4-wheel and there have been speeds much, much lower in really bad weather for this driver.
Now with all this preamble, coming to the subject listed in the title.
On Hoda and Kathie Lee's program this morning, I caught a blurb from them of researchers trying to re-set a woman's biological clock so that women would be able to have children in her 70's and 80's.
Not that there haven't been times when I yearned for a fourth child with all the marvelous help and doulas and such, people out there now, I really think I object to that procedure.
I am 66, soon to be 67. My Mother has passed away at the age of 83, but my Father is still with us, as mentioned - 93. I call him every day to make sure he counts out the right number of meds and takes them at 7 p.m. to make sure he isn't getting too close to the morning meds, or gets confused as to take the morning meds again. My sister Dee has lovingly taken over the morning shift, as I simply cannot be a morning person, no matter how hard I try. He and I are conversing more now than in the previous 65 years. It isn't much, just what ever he wants to share of his day. Some days he rambles, some days he is still very clear. He mourned for the people in the Red River Valley between Minnesota and the Dakotas this spring. He remembers when his brother Hank and his wife (also named Helen) were living in Rochester, MN, and the floods would yearly flood his little doughnut store. Hank and Helen finally had enough and moved back to the cities.
If my Mother had the option of having myself (the oldest child of six) in her 70's or 80's, I would not be fortunate to have had the opportunity of coming to know my Father in his 90's. He can be exasperating at times, don't get me wrong, but most times lately since I have included him in my daily prayers, he is a delight. I can hear him 'toootlin' to the bedroom to retrieve his meds. He talks to the wall or doorway and telling it to 'stay' there, or he whistles (something that he is fairly good at), talks to me on the phone even though he has put the phone down on the table, or he sings and talks nonsense much like a mother does for her child. He comes back with the proper box and counts out the meds. He is always surprised that there are only four. He has ten in the mornings meds. Quite a feat for a 93 year old person. A lot of his meds are just 'fluff'....eye vitamins, calcium, senior vitamin, 81 mg aspirin, etc. Very few are for medical issues.
If he and my mother had had me, the first born, when they were in their 70's and 80's, I would have been robbed of the rich times they had when they were both young.....the few memories I have of my youth as in traveling with my Dad to deliver my Mother's apple tea rings for example. Watching my Mother make bread weekly. Mom struggling with the bills for a family of eight. She and I were not very close, and I sincerely regret that, but she tried her very best to make me an independent woman. My daughter-in-law Beth has a marvelous relationship with her Mom. She has often said that her Mom "Rocks". Sometimes the whole scenario of who your parents are is a big, if you will, crap-shoot. Parents do their best to raise their children as they were taught. My parents were brought up by very "Old World" parents. Dad was born in 1915 and Mom in 1917 to give you the timeline.
I think that science is making a big mistake here in extending the reproductive years for a woman. Sometimes scientists are superior in book-learnin', but not so much in common sense.
I am going on record here for people to object to this method of biological clock reversals. It just wouldn't be right nor fair for the child to be robbed of a steadying influence of a parent. I know there are parents out there that are nuts and really do not know how to parent a child, but so much more do. Leave it at that.
Huggs to all, CJ
It is Monday, April 13, 2009, and it is 11:30 in the morning.
My thermometer outside reads 52 degrees. I am sooo ready for spring-ier weather and warmth. I don't generally mind winter, well, except when you are the recipient of the unexpected 'black ice' swishy-swerve across a small bridge covering a branch of the Rum River.
Most of the time I look upon winter as a time of re-grouping, nesting in, cozy times with a blanket and a stash of knitting, my passion of 30+ years in counted cross stitch, reading which is a life-long passion, etc., and in hubby's case, American Idol (Yuck-o) and not necessarily in that order.
After years of dreading the winter when having to work out in the unheated (except for the kilns) and uninsulated barn with our pottery, we no longer have to. Bobby's hands going through icy glaze or near ice clay has been a painful experience. So Winter has become a time of reflection for me.
I have cancelled many an appointment in the cities, 65 + miles to the south, this past winter. Not because I am a wimp, but because many of the cancellations have included my 93 year old Father in the blend of things. I will not put him at risk (more than the normal amount of risk required for transporting him in regular, maniac, stupid kids AND ADULTS comprising of and in general population of driving traffic) in extremely bad weather.
I have a small 'chick-pickup'...a 2000 Ford Ranger. I dearly love that little pickup and am constantly surprised to see men driving one. I will go on record here that it is the perfect truck for a female. Even a short little turd like me. The only thing that I am not fond of is the fact that the tail end is 'swishy' in icy or snowy conditions. But with the 4-wheel drive, and slower, reasonable speeds, I have made it home safely. The book says to not go faster than 45 mph when in 4-wheel and there have been speeds much, much lower in really bad weather for this driver.
Now with all this preamble, coming to the subject listed in the title.
On Hoda and Kathie Lee's program this morning, I caught a blurb from them of researchers trying to re-set a woman's biological clock so that women would be able to have children in her 70's and 80's.
Not that there haven't been times when I yearned for a fourth child with all the marvelous help and doulas and such, people out there now, I really think I object to that procedure.
I am 66, soon to be 67. My Mother has passed away at the age of 83, but my Father is still with us, as mentioned - 93. I call him every day to make sure he counts out the right number of meds and takes them at 7 p.m. to make sure he isn't getting too close to the morning meds, or gets confused as to take the morning meds again. My sister Dee has lovingly taken over the morning shift, as I simply cannot be a morning person, no matter how hard I try. He and I are conversing more now than in the previous 65 years. It isn't much, just what ever he wants to share of his day. Some days he rambles, some days he is still very clear. He mourned for the people in the Red River Valley between Minnesota and the Dakotas this spring. He remembers when his brother Hank and his wife (also named Helen) were living in Rochester, MN, and the floods would yearly flood his little doughnut store. Hank and Helen finally had enough and moved back to the cities.
If my Mother had the option of having myself (the oldest child of six) in her 70's or 80's, I would not be fortunate to have had the opportunity of coming to know my Father in his 90's. He can be exasperating at times, don't get me wrong, but most times lately since I have included him in my daily prayers, he is a delight. I can hear him 'toootlin' to the bedroom to retrieve his meds. He talks to the wall or doorway and telling it to 'stay' there, or he whistles (something that he is fairly good at), talks to me on the phone even though he has put the phone down on the table, or he sings and talks nonsense much like a mother does for her child. He comes back with the proper box and counts out the meds. He is always surprised that there are only four. He has ten in the mornings meds. Quite a feat for a 93 year old person. A lot of his meds are just 'fluff'....eye vitamins, calcium, senior vitamin, 81 mg aspirin, etc. Very few are for medical issues.
If he and my mother had had me, the first born, when they were in their 70's and 80's, I would have been robbed of the rich times they had when they were both young.....the few memories I have of my youth as in traveling with my Dad to deliver my Mother's apple tea rings for example. Watching my Mother make bread weekly. Mom struggling with the bills for a family of eight. She and I were not very close, and I sincerely regret that, but she tried her very best to make me an independent woman. My daughter-in-law Beth has a marvelous relationship with her Mom. She has often said that her Mom "Rocks". Sometimes the whole scenario of who your parents are is a big, if you will, crap-shoot. Parents do their best to raise their children as they were taught. My parents were brought up by very "Old World" parents. Dad was born in 1915 and Mom in 1917 to give you the timeline.
I think that science is making a big mistake here in extending the reproductive years for a woman. Sometimes scientists are superior in book-learnin', but not so much in common sense.
I am going on record here for people to object to this method of biological clock reversals. It just wouldn't be right nor fair for the child to be robbed of a steadying influence of a parent. I know there are parents out there that are nuts and really do not know how to parent a child, but so much more do. Leave it at that.
Huggs to all, CJ
Thursday, April 9, 2009
BIRDS, ETC.
I am at my computer desk in front of the south window next to the door. I am watching an awful lot of birdies out in the lawn and front drive.
I am watching the robins do an aerobatic fly-up off the ground with each other and when they got tired of that, a super-sonic fly-by that equals the Air Force's Thunderbird's speed. I guess it is just the season. Winter coldness giving way to springier temperatures. They feel it in the air and are rejoicing in it.
I also have a 'flock' of dark-eyed juncos on our lawn area. They are funny little birds. It is hard to describe the dance they do while hunting for seeds and such to eat off in the grass. It is sort of a little hop up with a back and forth scratch motion with the one foot which makes their little bodies move back and forth and up.
As much as I like watching them, I do wish they would go away. for if you still have dark-eyed juncos in the yard, it is still the weather for snow. Evidently they like cool temps and the cooler the better.
Fly away little birds.
I haven't seen the Northern Cardinals yet.
The poor female just about knocked herself out last year. They nest about 6' off the ground and are very territorial. I finally had to cover the mirrors on my little chick pick-up Ford Ranger last year because she would perch on the door by the side windows and launch herself at the mirror to try and get that other female northern cardinal out of her territory. I had female bird snot all over both rear view side mirrors like you wouldn't believe! She also started to attack the west windows of the house and even traveled to the north bedroom window while perching on top of the air conditioner.
That action drove our male cat, Silver, absolutely bonkers.
Now this is a 13.5# cat.
You DO NOT want a 13.5# cat hurling himself at an air conditioner off the bed in a humongous leap. Wonder what the impact of a cat that large over three feet of space and with 'velocity' would be. Thirty miles an hour? Close?
Every spring we get my favourite bird, the Red Winged Blackbird, in our trees. They stay just briefly in the scheme of things. We are the highest point around, being on top of the highest hill in the area. So after the male scouts have been here for a week or two, the females and the rest of the flock arrive.
Our trees, being the highest point around, gets the whole flock that nest in our area, to stop and reconnoiter for an hour or two. Then the whole flock disperses to their nesting areas in the surrounding areas.
This year it was April 1st. I happened to walk out to the truck to leave and they were doing their thing in the trees. Chattering, chittering, warbling, whoopin' and a hollerin'.
There are two days in the year when I am smiling like an idiot with a grin and tears flowing down my face as fast as they can go. The first is the day they arrive and the second is the day they all congregate in the trees before their arduous task of flying to their southern homes for the winter.
Most years I get to see both times, and both times I cry, laugh, grin for hours. Some years I miss them. Either I am in the house and don't hear them or I am gone already in my chick pick-up.
I love their song. It is like 'Kong-a-rrhheee' with a lower tone on the kong and a higher tone on the rrheee. I frequently stop at the four corners, south of us by a half mile, and just open the windows and listen. I have had people stop and ask if I need help and am all right, much to my embarrassment. How do you answer? "No, I am all right, but thanks for asking, I just stopped to listen to my favourite birds sing their songs."
I mean I am already pegged for a loony, and that observed action would just about bring the men in white jackets to me. I have since learned to check the roads all four ways to make sure that there are no cars approaching.
Our son Peter and his lovely wife Beth, have no such problem. All they have to do is open their windows and patio door. They are fortunate to have them in the cat tails around the catch basin pond the builders planned in the community.
Daughter Margaret and husband Jack also have them in their trees, but I don't know where the cat tails and water source are in their area, but they have them. I am not so sure Tracy and Tad have them in their area.
It is a joy for me to visit the two homes in the summer so I can get my fill of bird song.
Wild life is abounding in the yard this morning. Along with the birds, I have noticed a squirrel, and a feral cat. So far no fox nor the woodchuck that makes its home in the woods. I have seen an opossum south of our buildings on the road-side, so I imagine there are one or two roosting around somewhere. So far no raccoons. I am grateful for not having those around. They make me nervous. I had enough with a pride (?) (just looked it up and the term is 'gaze' of raccoons) of them living in the granary for years. They got mad at me for locking down the cat food bin in a metal garbage can and took it out on my clean laundry getting an overnight sun-bleach out on the clothes line. I had muddy paw prints all over the sheets and towels, just to let me know that they were not happy at not getting their dinner in the middle of the night.
Well, time to check email and addresses. I finished a counted cross stitched gift last night, bathed it, hung it to dry and pressed it this morning, and need to photograph it before I send it on to Donna, (Hi Donna M!) so finding where I stashed the camera is also in order.
Enjoy your day where ever you are. Warmer weather is almost here in the northern climes of the United States. It will get better.
I am watching the robins do an aerobatic fly-up off the ground with each other and when they got tired of that, a super-sonic fly-by that equals the Air Force's Thunderbird's speed. I guess it is just the season. Winter coldness giving way to springier temperatures. They feel it in the air and are rejoicing in it.
I also have a 'flock' of dark-eyed juncos on our lawn area. They are funny little birds. It is hard to describe the dance they do while hunting for seeds and such to eat off in the grass. It is sort of a little hop up with a back and forth scratch motion with the one foot which makes their little bodies move back and forth and up.
As much as I like watching them, I do wish they would go away. for if you still have dark-eyed juncos in the yard, it is still the weather for snow. Evidently they like cool temps and the cooler the better.
Fly away little birds.
I haven't seen the Northern Cardinals yet.
The poor female just about knocked herself out last year. They nest about 6' off the ground and are very territorial. I finally had to cover the mirrors on my little chick pick-up Ford Ranger last year because she would perch on the door by the side windows and launch herself at the mirror to try and get that other female northern cardinal out of her territory. I had female bird snot all over both rear view side mirrors like you wouldn't believe! She also started to attack the west windows of the house and even traveled to the north bedroom window while perching on top of the air conditioner.
That action drove our male cat, Silver, absolutely bonkers.
Now this is a 13.5# cat.
You DO NOT want a 13.5# cat hurling himself at an air conditioner off the bed in a humongous leap. Wonder what the impact of a cat that large over three feet of space and with 'velocity' would be. Thirty miles an hour? Close?
Every spring we get my favourite bird, the Red Winged Blackbird, in our trees. They stay just briefly in the scheme of things. We are the highest point around, being on top of the highest hill in the area. So after the male scouts have been here for a week or two, the females and the rest of the flock arrive.
Our trees, being the highest point around, gets the whole flock that nest in our area, to stop and reconnoiter for an hour or two. Then the whole flock disperses to their nesting areas in the surrounding areas.
This year it was April 1st. I happened to walk out to the truck to leave and they were doing their thing in the trees. Chattering, chittering, warbling, whoopin' and a hollerin'.
There are two days in the year when I am smiling like an idiot with a grin and tears flowing down my face as fast as they can go. The first is the day they arrive and the second is the day they all congregate in the trees before their arduous task of flying to their southern homes for the winter.
Most years I get to see both times, and both times I cry, laugh, grin for hours. Some years I miss them. Either I am in the house and don't hear them or I am gone already in my chick pick-up.
I love their song. It is like 'Kong-a-rrhheee' with a lower tone on the kong and a higher tone on the rrheee. I frequently stop at the four corners, south of us by a half mile, and just open the windows and listen. I have had people stop and ask if I need help and am all right, much to my embarrassment. How do you answer? "No, I am all right, but thanks for asking, I just stopped to listen to my favourite birds sing their songs."
I mean I am already pegged for a loony, and that observed action would just about bring the men in white jackets to me. I have since learned to check the roads all four ways to make sure that there are no cars approaching.
Our son Peter and his lovely wife Beth, have no such problem. All they have to do is open their windows and patio door. They are fortunate to have them in the cat tails around the catch basin pond the builders planned in the community.
Daughter Margaret and husband Jack also have them in their trees, but I don't know where the cat tails and water source are in their area, but they have them. I am not so sure Tracy and Tad have them in their area.
It is a joy for me to visit the two homes in the summer so I can get my fill of bird song.
Wild life is abounding in the yard this morning. Along with the birds, I have noticed a squirrel, and a feral cat. So far no fox nor the woodchuck that makes its home in the woods. I have seen an opossum south of our buildings on the road-side, so I imagine there are one or two roosting around somewhere. So far no raccoons. I am grateful for not having those around. They make me nervous. I had enough with a pride (?) (just looked it up and the term is 'gaze' of raccoons) of them living in the granary for years. They got mad at me for locking down the cat food bin in a metal garbage can and took it out on my clean laundry getting an overnight sun-bleach out on the clothes line. I had muddy paw prints all over the sheets and towels, just to let me know that they were not happy at not getting their dinner in the middle of the night.
Well, time to check email and addresses. I finished a counted cross stitched gift last night, bathed it, hung it to dry and pressed it this morning, and need to photograph it before I send it on to Donna, (Hi Donna M!) so finding where I stashed the camera is also in order.
Enjoy your day where ever you are. Warmer weather is almost here in the northern climes of the United States. It will get better.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Spring
Spring is here.
All the weather people say it is here.
The calendar says it is here.
Lately we have had some pretty stiff March winds out there in Mother Nature's attempt to dry up the ground for the sprouting of the green everywhere.
It is pretty awesome to listen to the wind in the trees and watch the 'invisible dance' the wind and trees do together.
Sometimes they are stiff and 'courtly'.
Other times the two are bending together with the dance of wild abandonment.
Sometimes they are gently swaying together as in an old couple moving slowly with the rhythm of complete satisfaction and trust with the other.
Today I don't have the wild, gyrating gusts of new love.
Just the steady, gentle swaying of an old love....completely at ease with each other.
All the weather people say it is here.
The calendar says it is here.
Lately we have had some pretty stiff March winds out there in Mother Nature's attempt to dry up the ground for the sprouting of the green everywhere.
It is pretty awesome to listen to the wind in the trees and watch the 'invisible dance' the wind and trees do together.
Sometimes they are stiff and 'courtly'.
Other times the two are bending together with the dance of wild abandonment.
Sometimes they are gently swaying together as in an old couple moving slowly with the rhythm of complete satisfaction and trust with the other.
Today I don't have the wild, gyrating gusts of new love.
Just the steady, gentle swaying of an old love....completely at ease with each other.
Rain
We have had a ton of rain here in the middle of Minnesota. And that is not even close to what the Red River Valley is getting.
I am saying a prayer that everyone will be all right out there.
That is all I can do from here.
Huggs to everyone
cj
I am saying a prayer that everyone will be all right out there.
That is all I can do from here.
Huggs to everyone
cj
Monday, March 23, 2009
Back, sort of
Well, since late Thursday and early Friday, I have been battling the flu bug or food poisoning. Most likely the latter. No vomiting but a lot of dry heaves.
Did I mention that I am not the best person to be sick?
I hate being sick.
When coherent (not sleeping), there are rumblings of snappishness, rudeness, growliness, and down and out feral behaviour.
No church on Sunday and I intensely dislike missing Mass (no guilt here, I just dislike missing Mass). Did work the auction kitchen (just pop, candy bars and pop, people.....no prepared food) on Saturday with the aid of two Tylenol, but was still under the radar on Sunday. Good thing I didn't go, because as soon as hubby left for the auction house on Sunday a.m. pickups, dry heaves hit again. Somehow, even when you are sick, you feel cheated when there is no product to accompany the action. The body is not able to rid itself of what is making you feel 'ucky'. Don't you feel just grand now?
Finally feeling a bit better today.
Well enough to start some laundry. 'Smeller' told me that the not so nice smellies accumulating in the hamper area had to get done. So loaded the small apartment sized Maytag washing machine in my kitchen, next to the fridge, and started it up.
Ok, Maybe not so up to par yet. Caught myself, sitting on my kitchen stool, looking at the load going round and around in the window and literally started to count the revolutions it made around before stopping and reversing itself. Yah! Doesn't take much to entertain myself, I guess.
So I thought I might be up to something to eat.
I'm Tellin' Ya'! Stephanie is my name! When in crisis, EAT! Of course, it wasn't chocolate or pineapple upside down cake (with sour cream, skip the whipped cream please), but it was close.
I have been able to keep down the Anoka, MN, Rice Box Thai restaurant dinner I got on Friday. Had to eat it today because today is day three. We all know that food prepared and not eaten by day three gets thrown out because of bacteria multiplying in it. It just isn't safe to eat any longer. Didn't eat a lot of the remaining dinner, but was able to throw it away without compunction. I did find out something, though. I don't like peanuts in my food. I am not fond of the crunch. Go Figure?! I love the peanut sauce in the Thai Spring rolls, and they have fantastic spring rolls at the Rice Box (just the right amount of cilantro) and the sauce has smaller peanut chunks, so that is OK.
But I am on the mend. Thank goodness. I don't much like myself when I get sick. I am thankful that my husband overlooks my crankiness and crappiness when I get sick. He is an absolute angel, even when he had a ton of nastiness going on with his business yesterday. He was still tender and solicitous for me. I appreciate that. My wish for you today is that you all have a hubby nor partner that is concerned for you when you are ill. If you don't have either, I wish you friends that will care for you, pets are included in this.
My 13.5# male cat, Silver, kept trying to get close to Mom to cuddle. Minnie (quite a bit smaller), kept trying to do the same. Minnie kept getting put back on her director's chair, and the big guy got pushed down by the feet to watch out for intruders coming in the bedroom door. Well, that's his job!
Now that I have written the book for the week, I wish you a good Monday. Now I am off to read my Monday installment of Nordic Needle's weekly newsletter for an uplifting chat with a favourite part of my stitching family.
Take care all.
Did I mention that I am not the best person to be sick?
I hate being sick.
When coherent (not sleeping), there are rumblings of snappishness, rudeness, growliness, and down and out feral behaviour.
No church on Sunday and I intensely dislike missing Mass (no guilt here, I just dislike missing Mass). Did work the auction kitchen (just pop, candy bars and pop, people.....no prepared food) on Saturday with the aid of two Tylenol, but was still under the radar on Sunday. Good thing I didn't go, because as soon as hubby left for the auction house on Sunday a.m. pickups, dry heaves hit again. Somehow, even when you are sick, you feel cheated when there is no product to accompany the action. The body is not able to rid itself of what is making you feel 'ucky'. Don't you feel just grand now?
Finally feeling a bit better today.
Well enough to start some laundry. 'Smeller' told me that the not so nice smellies accumulating in the hamper area had to get done. So loaded the small apartment sized Maytag washing machine in my kitchen, next to the fridge, and started it up.
Ok, Maybe not so up to par yet. Caught myself, sitting on my kitchen stool, looking at the load going round and around in the window and literally started to count the revolutions it made around before stopping and reversing itself. Yah! Doesn't take much to entertain myself, I guess.
So I thought I might be up to something to eat.
I'm Tellin' Ya'! Stephanie is my name! When in crisis, EAT! Of course, it wasn't chocolate or pineapple upside down cake (with sour cream, skip the whipped cream please), but it was close.
I have been able to keep down the Anoka, MN, Rice Box Thai restaurant dinner I got on Friday. Had to eat it today because today is day three. We all know that food prepared and not eaten by day three gets thrown out because of bacteria multiplying in it. It just isn't safe to eat any longer. Didn't eat a lot of the remaining dinner, but was able to throw it away without compunction. I did find out something, though. I don't like peanuts in my food. I am not fond of the crunch. Go Figure?! I love the peanut sauce in the Thai Spring rolls, and they have fantastic spring rolls at the Rice Box (just the right amount of cilantro) and the sauce has smaller peanut chunks, so that is OK.
But I am on the mend. Thank goodness. I don't much like myself when I get sick. I am thankful that my husband overlooks my crankiness and crappiness when I get sick. He is an absolute angel, even when he had a ton of nastiness going on with his business yesterday. He was still tender and solicitous for me. I appreciate that. My wish for you today is that you all have a hubby nor partner that is concerned for you when you are ill. If you don't have either, I wish you friends that will care for you, pets are included in this.
My 13.5# male cat, Silver, kept trying to get close to Mom to cuddle. Minnie (quite a bit smaller), kept trying to do the same. Minnie kept getting put back on her director's chair, and the big guy got pushed down by the feet to watch out for intruders coming in the bedroom door. Well, that's his job!
Now that I have written the book for the week, I wish you a good Monday. Now I am off to read my Monday installment of Nordic Needle's weekly newsletter for an uplifting chat with a favourite part of my stitching family.
Take care all.
Monday, March 16, 2009
I have become 'Stephanie Plum'.
No two ways about it.
My name is now 'Stephanie Plum'.
Or at least it should be.
She and I are having issues today.
Stephanie's issues currently are in the book To The Nines by Janet Evanovich, just in case you were unaware of who Stephanie Plum is.
Mine are with the A. T. & T. people.
Stephanie has this wonderful 'feelings' for TastyKakes when things go wrong, a kind of reconciliation substitution when dealing with idiot people.
Mine, today, is with the DQ Pecan Waffle Bowl, dipped, thank you.
For me, it's gonna be 5 hours on the treadmill, I know, and the waffle bowl isn't that good! Shouldn't have given in to it. The blood sugar is going to be off the wall.
Back to the issues. I am trying to find out how much our phone bill is for the house. Our land line. I don't have the bill for the house phone, just the current bills for the wireless accounts. I call that number. I was informed that they don't have those records in front of them.
O. K., give me the number for the land line. Got it. Called it and the number they said that I was calling from was a 203 area code? Same numbers, just turned around. And the actual seven digit number wasn't even close.
So I hung up and tried again.
Over a half hour later, I get Leon on the phone.
My luck, he is East Indian.
My sincerest apologies to every one that is of that descent.
My 66 year old ears simply cannot decipher your accent.
I have tried. I have asked that you speak slowly, even that doesn't help. I can understand English spoken with a Chinese accent, Irish accent, New England accent, Southern U.S.A. accent, Somali accent..........I just cannot bend my ear around the East Indian accent.
I have tried, and tried, and tried.
Then he asked me for the last four digits of the social security number for the account.
I am so very ashamed to say that I blew my temper, sky high.
I had to get into town before a certain time and I just wanted the current amount to send a check in, and the address of where to send it.
I don't have my husband's social security number, and even if I did, I wouldn't be giving it out. Even if it is just the last four numbers. It was never meant to be used as an ID and every one seems to need those last four digits. I guarantee that someone, somewhere, will have had a 'code program' that will run all the possible combinations at high speed until the name and the last four numbers agree. Bingo! My account will have been breached.
This is why we set up a password, or pass code, numbers if you will. Didn't want that, had to be the four numbers of his soc. sec. number. I hung up,
Went to town, paid those bills, and will look up the bill online, At least I won't have to encounter an accent I have tried for years to understand or give out the soc. sec. numbers.
I have tried, honestly.
Move over Steph, I am claiming your couch.
No two ways about it.
My name is now 'Stephanie Plum'.
Or at least it should be.
She and I are having issues today.
Stephanie's issues currently are in the book To The Nines by Janet Evanovich, just in case you were unaware of who Stephanie Plum is.
Mine are with the A. T. & T. people.
Stephanie has this wonderful 'feelings' for TastyKakes when things go wrong, a kind of reconciliation substitution when dealing with idiot people.
Mine, today, is with the DQ Pecan Waffle Bowl, dipped, thank you.
For me, it's gonna be 5 hours on the treadmill, I know, and the waffle bowl isn't that good! Shouldn't have given in to it. The blood sugar is going to be off the wall.
Back to the issues. I am trying to find out how much our phone bill is for the house. Our land line. I don't have the bill for the house phone, just the current bills for the wireless accounts. I call that number. I was informed that they don't have those records in front of them.
O. K., give me the number for the land line. Got it. Called it and the number they said that I was calling from was a 203 area code? Same numbers, just turned around. And the actual seven digit number wasn't even close.
So I hung up and tried again.
Over a half hour later, I get Leon on the phone.
My luck, he is East Indian.
My sincerest apologies to every one that is of that descent.
My 66 year old ears simply cannot decipher your accent.
I have tried. I have asked that you speak slowly, even that doesn't help. I can understand English spoken with a Chinese accent, Irish accent, New England accent, Southern U.S.A. accent, Somali accent..........I just cannot bend my ear around the East Indian accent.
I have tried, and tried, and tried.
Then he asked me for the last four digits of the social security number for the account.
I am so very ashamed to say that I blew my temper, sky high.
I had to get into town before a certain time and I just wanted the current amount to send a check in, and the address of where to send it.
I don't have my husband's social security number, and even if I did, I wouldn't be giving it out. Even if it is just the last four numbers. It was never meant to be used as an ID and every one seems to need those last four digits. I guarantee that someone, somewhere, will have had a 'code program' that will run all the possible combinations at high speed until the name and the last four numbers agree. Bingo! My account will have been breached.
This is why we set up a password, or pass code, numbers if you will. Didn't want that, had to be the four numbers of his soc. sec. number. I hung up,
Went to town, paid those bills, and will look up the bill online, At least I won't have to encounter an accent I have tried for years to understand or give out the soc. sec. numbers.
I have tried, honestly.
Move over Steph, I am claiming your couch.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Thank You Vonna
Hello Vonna and welcome. Thank you for leaving a comment. I do so appreciate it.
I cherish Erma and am so glad that you do also.
I am also a devout Roman Catholic and wonder if you can see my email addy. I checked and it is supposed to be visible, but don't know. Let me know.
Cait
I cherish Erma and am so glad that you do also.
I am also a devout Roman Catholic and wonder if you can see my email addy. I checked and it is supposed to be visible, but don't know. Let me know.
Cait
WATER DAY - DAY 2
Some times people yearn to live in the country.
Sometimes people that live in the country yearn to live in a city.
I may belong to the second today.
Today is the 'second day' of trying to get a running, babbling brook to stop coming out of our chicken coop hydrant, the back, most eastern building of our farm yard collection in buildings.
After getting a new well-head installed this summer, the problem stopped, or so we thought. (At least that alleviated the three foot, black-ant nest in the well head. Gross to say the least)
Today I will get to get my yard dug up for the second time with a back-hoe. I also have the well guy that installed the new well-head, back and try to fix our 'babbling brook'. Johnson Lake on top of our hill is not what I want.
Yesterday we had two friends and hubby digging around in a 40' well, thinking that by installing a valve and turn-off inside the well, would stop the water. Hubby went out this morning and saw steam and as he got closer, still heard the babbling brook. So whatever they did yesterday, didn't work.
'Tis the luck of the country livin', I'm tellin' ya!
Our friend with the backhoe just came in to turn on the water briefly to see where the line is, evidently and said that there wasn't much left of our chicken coop. Hmmm, O.K.
Guess when you have below zero weather and are behind a backhoe, everything goes.
Oh well, enough. Can't go to the bathroom, do dishes, laundry for at least another two hours, however, I can finish making the bed and comb/brush my hair as well as post and check email as well as knit.
I have been trying to finish our last granddaughter's scarf and hat set since December 14, 2008. That's another story there.
"Signing off of WKRP in Cincinnati......." oh wait, just our Fever Mug made it on the show, not me. Good Golly Miss Molly, not coherent today. Must be the nails that have been put off being fixed for a month now. Called for an appointment today, and cancelled all within 5 minutes. Arrrrgh!
Sometimes people that live in the country yearn to live in a city.
I may belong to the second today.
Today is the 'second day' of trying to get a running, babbling brook to stop coming out of our chicken coop hydrant, the back, most eastern building of our farm yard collection in buildings.
After getting a new well-head installed this summer, the problem stopped, or so we thought. (At least that alleviated the three foot, black-ant nest in the well head. Gross to say the least)
Today I will get to get my yard dug up for the second time with a back-hoe. I also have the well guy that installed the new well-head, back and try to fix our 'babbling brook'. Johnson Lake on top of our hill is not what I want.
Yesterday we had two friends and hubby digging around in a 40' well, thinking that by installing a valve and turn-off inside the well, would stop the water. Hubby went out this morning and saw steam and as he got closer, still heard the babbling brook. So whatever they did yesterday, didn't work.
'Tis the luck of the country livin', I'm tellin' ya!
Our friend with the backhoe just came in to turn on the water briefly to see where the line is, evidently and said that there wasn't much left of our chicken coop. Hmmm, O.K.
Guess when you have below zero weather and are behind a backhoe, everything goes.
Oh well, enough. Can't go to the bathroom, do dishes, laundry for at least another two hours, however, I can finish making the bed and comb/brush my hair as well as post and check email as well as knit.
I have been trying to finish our last granddaughter's scarf and hat set since December 14, 2008. That's another story there.
"Signing off of WKRP in Cincinnati......." oh wait, just our Fever Mug made it on the show, not me. Good Golly Miss Molly, not coherent today. Must be the nails that have been put off being fixed for a month now. Called for an appointment today, and cancelled all within 5 minutes. Arrrrgh!
Monday, March 9, 2009
Cats
I have cats.
In my house.
I rescued the 'old' ladies from outside because one year I was going to be gone for a week, and knew they wouldn't have survived that severe winter for a week. I have since lost three of my babies and I still grieve for them.
I won't tell you the number, as it is manageable, the house large enough and not like the houses you hear about on the news.
So don't even think of it.
I don't want to hear it.
And, if you persist, thinking that you are holier than thou, don't bother talking to me. I have already eliminated an old friendship because she told me that more than one cat was 'so very, very unhealthy'.....of course she has a 'suposed' allergy to cats and wouldn't think of having them in her home, For Heaven's Sake! By the way, she now has an inside house cat. Hmmmmm
They are my children, now that my own three have 'grown and flown'.
In some ways they are nicer to me than my three as they like to cuddle, a lot.
With me, on the bed, sometimes all at once. That makes for an interesting night's sleep. Never realized how stiff one can get when you have kitties fighting for territory with Mom and Mom sleeps in ONE position all night for fear of disrupting the ladies.
Dear Hubby has his own side of the bed, and they DO NOT try to compete with him for any of that bed surface, let me tell you!
I follow a lady in another blog that has her two babies, Chief and Bert, that make for such an interesting read. So I know she would understand. Hello Jill!
Anyway, two of my ladies are now in 'that' condition.
For the most part, I have tuned the yeowling out. But just in the last five minutes or so, have really 'listened' to it. The one making a fuss, and the Mother of the younger, answering. Such intonations! My Goodness! They do indeed have their own language! Highs and lows, sharps and shrills, gutteral and clear. It is like they are telling each other...the younger...'it is so annoying, I don't like it, when will it end, etc..' The older...'it won't take much longer, it is just part of our life, just let it go......' And on and on.
There is a marvelous series written by Shirley Rousseau Murphy that should be on every cat lover's list of reading. It centers around 'a big, powerful, gray feline, Joe Grey'. If you pick up one of the books find book one. Look at the publishing dates to find it. Even those of us with cats will find the way Shirley presents them, an eye-opener. I don't have them all and do need to keep the reading going. They are such fun books. I hope you will all go out to the library and read from book one on.
I am sorry for those of the world with just one cat or none. It is us with 'multiples' sharing our homes, that we can experience a phenomenon that is very, very interesting. And 'they' say cats can't talk.
Hmmmph. Little do they know, LOL.
In my house.
I rescued the 'old' ladies from outside because one year I was going to be gone for a week, and knew they wouldn't have survived that severe winter for a week. I have since lost three of my babies and I still grieve for them.
I won't tell you the number, as it is manageable, the house large enough and not like the houses you hear about on the news.
So don't even think of it.
I don't want to hear it.
And, if you persist, thinking that you are holier than thou, don't bother talking to me. I have already eliminated an old friendship because she told me that more than one cat was 'so very, very unhealthy'.....of course she has a 'suposed' allergy to cats and wouldn't think of having them in her home, For Heaven's Sake! By the way, she now has an inside house cat. Hmmmmm
They are my children, now that my own three have 'grown and flown'.
In some ways they are nicer to me than my three as they like to cuddle, a lot.
With me, on the bed, sometimes all at once. That makes for an interesting night's sleep. Never realized how stiff one can get when you have kitties fighting for territory with Mom and Mom sleeps in ONE position all night for fear of disrupting the ladies.
Dear Hubby has his own side of the bed, and they DO NOT try to compete with him for any of that bed surface, let me tell you!
I follow a lady in another blog that has her two babies, Chief and Bert, that make for such an interesting read. So I know she would understand. Hello Jill!
Anyway, two of my ladies are now in 'that' condition.
For the most part, I have tuned the yeowling out. But just in the last five minutes or so, have really 'listened' to it. The one making a fuss, and the Mother of the younger, answering. Such intonations! My Goodness! They do indeed have their own language! Highs and lows, sharps and shrills, gutteral and clear. It is like they are telling each other...the younger...'it is so annoying, I don't like it, when will it end, etc..' The older...'it won't take much longer, it is just part of our life, just let it go......' And on and on.
There is a marvelous series written by Shirley Rousseau Murphy that should be on every cat lover's list of reading. It centers around 'a big, powerful, gray feline, Joe Grey'. If you pick up one of the books find book one. Look at the publishing dates to find it. Even those of us with cats will find the way Shirley presents them, an eye-opener. I don't have them all and do need to keep the reading going. They are such fun books. I hope you will all go out to the library and read from book one on.
I am sorry for those of the world with just one cat or none. It is us with 'multiples' sharing our homes, that we can experience a phenomenon that is very, very interesting. And 'they' say cats can't talk.
Hmmmph. Little do they know, LOL.
Erma Bombeck's Words of Wisdom
When I was a young mother in the 60's and 70's, Erma Bombeck was the last word in understanding all of us out there with kids that had terminal snot noses, sludgy septic tanks, issues of body image, in short--really one of 'us'.
When she was on Good Morning America, I didn't miss watching her if I could help it.
Her wit was something I greatly admired, as I knew I had none of that marvelous gift.
I was too sober, too serious, and I still am.
I apologize for not showing the two graphics that was supposed to come to me. All I got is the tri-color symbol and no pic. So I deleted them. It doesn't matter anyway, Erma's wisdom will stand on it's own without the pics.
Enjoy her, and scout out one of her books again for a refreshing look at 'womanhood', and learn to laugh at yourself, 'just a little'.
In Memory Of and To Erma, with all my love, Cait
IN honor of women's history month and in memory of Erma Bombeck who lost her fight with cancer.
"IF I HAD MY LIFE TO LIVE OVER - by Erma Bombeck (written after she found out she was dying from cancer).
I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren't there for the day.
I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.
I would have talked less and listened more.
I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained, or the sofa faded.
I would have eaten the popcorn in the 'good' living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.
I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.
I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband.
I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.
I would have sat on the lawn with my grass stains.
I would have cried and laughed less while watching television and more while watching life.
I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn't show soil, or was guaranteed to last a lifetime.
Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I'd have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.
When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, 'Later. Now go get washed up for dinner.' There would have been more 'I love you's' More 'I'm sorry's.'
But mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute. Look at it and really see it . . live it and never give it back.
STOP SWEATING THE SMALL STUFF!!!
Don't worry about who doesn't like you, who has more, or who's doing what.
Instead, let's cherish the relationships
we have with those who do love us."
Erma, you may be gone from our earthly plane, but there will always be a part of me that will know that you are giving God some chuckles up there.
God Bless you and most of all 'Thank You' for lightening up our days in suburbia and beyond.
Your Friend,
Cait
When she was on Good Morning America, I didn't miss watching her if I could help it.
Her wit was something I greatly admired, as I knew I had none of that marvelous gift.
I was too sober, too serious, and I still am.
I apologize for not showing the two graphics that was supposed to come to me. All I got is the tri-color symbol and no pic. So I deleted them. It doesn't matter anyway, Erma's wisdom will stand on it's own without the pics.
Enjoy her, and scout out one of her books again for a refreshing look at 'womanhood', and learn to laugh at yourself, 'just a little'.
In Memory Of and To Erma, with all my love, Cait
IN honor of women's history month and in memory of Erma Bombeck who lost her fight with cancer.
"IF I HAD MY LIFE TO LIVE OVER - by Erma Bombeck (written after she found out she was dying from cancer).
I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren't there for the day.
I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.
I would have talked less and listened more.
I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained, or the sofa faded.
I would have eaten the popcorn in the 'good' living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.
I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.
I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband.
I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.
I would have sat on the lawn with my grass stains.
I would have cried and laughed less while watching television and more while watching life.
I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn't show soil, or was guaranteed to last a lifetime.
Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I'd have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.
When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, 'Later. Now go get washed up for dinner.' There would have been more 'I love you's' More 'I'm sorry's.'
But mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute. Look at it and really see it . . live it and never give it back.
STOP SWEATING THE SMALL STUFF!!!
Don't worry about who doesn't like you, who has more, or who's doing what.
Instead, let's cherish the relationships
we have with those who do love us."
Erma, you may be gone from our earthly plane, but there will always be a part of me that will know that you are giving God some chuckles up there.
God Bless you and most of all 'Thank You' for lightening up our days in suburbia and beyond.
Your Friend,
Cait
Sunday, February 15, 2009
I am so very happy.
Friday I went to our local hardware store, and, as I paid for my replacement pot knobs, I looked up and there was a 5-6' tall circular display of DMC Floss! I am so happy to have DMC floss back in the environs of Milaca. Princeton's Pamida used to carry floss, but got rid of it years ago.
I will no longer have to drive an hour one way to the Coon Rapids, MN, Jo Ann's or Michael's for floss. That is the closest. Even St. Cloud is an hour away for Michael's or Crafts Direct.
True, each skein is 39 cents as opposed to 27-33 cents per skein, but just think of the gas and time saved! That in itself means more stitching time, WooHoo!
Thank You Koch's Hardware.
Friday I went to our local hardware store, and, as I paid for my replacement pot knobs, I looked up and there was a 5-6' tall circular display of DMC Floss! I am so happy to have DMC floss back in the environs of Milaca. Princeton's Pamida used to carry floss, but got rid of it years ago.
I will no longer have to drive an hour one way to the Coon Rapids, MN, Jo Ann's or Michael's for floss. That is the closest. Even St. Cloud is an hour away for Michael's or Crafts Direct.
True, each skein is 39 cents as opposed to 27-33 cents per skein, but just think of the gas and time saved! That in itself means more stitching time, WooHoo!
Thank You Koch's Hardware.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
OUR ANNIVERSARY
It was 32 years ago today that Bobby asked me to marry him.
On the driveway exiting IHOP restaurant in Crystal, MN.
Totally unexpected, and so totally joyous. It was a good thing he was driving. I think he was so nervous.
It has been a marvelous 32 years since the asking and the 31 years since the wedding.
Thank You Bobby. I feel as treasured today as I did that day 32 years ago.
On the driveway exiting IHOP restaurant in Crystal, MN.
Totally unexpected, and so totally joyous. It was a good thing he was driving. I think he was so nervous.
It has been a marvelous 32 years since the asking and the 31 years since the wedding.
Thank You Bobby. I feel as treasured today as I did that day 32 years ago.
Jeff Gordon on 2.10.9, Rachael Ray's program
O.k. The man is supposed to be a learned man, or so they say.
But on the blurb Rachael Ray's people put out so you will watch the show, with his speech, sure doesn't seem like it.
His words are:
"My Mother, she knows how to drive."
O.K. Jeff, let's break it down.
"My Mother". Got it.....a female member of your family.
"SHE knows....." Why do you have to hit us over the head with a gender designation when you have already established it?
It drives me nutso to hear supposedly intelligent, educated sports people use the same double 'branding' if you will.
"Kent Hrbek, he really knows how to cover his post and he is a good first baseman."
"Tiger Woods, he is recuperating from surgery this golf season."
It goes on and on. It is perpetuated by general usage, especially by sports commentators, and when it comes within my sphere of listening, I generally try to correct it. It is so common, people do not realize what they are doing. Because they have heard it, they think it is acceptable.
It isn't.
Drives me nuts.
Listen to people and then gently correct them.
"Did you hear that Mrs. Preston, she is giving a tea for all the young girls in the church?"
"Excuse me, (chuckle here) you have already identified Mrs. Preston, your Pastor's wife's 'gender', no need to tell me that Mrs. Preston is a 'she'. Now continue, if you will, and Thank You."
Or, do it in your own inimitable way, YOU ARE ALL smart enough to figure out a way to tell people that they do not have to double the gender in the same sentence, especially if they are referring to only one person. They have already established it.
Errrgghh!
But on the blurb Rachael Ray's people put out so you will watch the show, with his speech, sure doesn't seem like it.
His words are:
"My Mother, she knows how to drive."
O.K. Jeff, let's break it down.
"My Mother". Got it.....a female member of your family.
"SHE knows....." Why do you have to hit us over the head with a gender designation when you have already established it?
It drives me nutso to hear supposedly intelligent, educated sports people use the same double 'branding' if you will.
"Kent Hrbek, he really knows how to cover his post and he is a good first baseman."
"Tiger Woods, he is recuperating from surgery this golf season."
It goes on and on. It is perpetuated by general usage, especially by sports commentators, and when it comes within my sphere of listening, I generally try to correct it. It is so common, people do not realize what they are doing. Because they have heard it, they think it is acceptable.
It isn't.
Drives me nuts.
Listen to people and then gently correct them.
"Did you hear that Mrs. Preston, she is giving a tea for all the young girls in the church?"
"Excuse me, (chuckle here) you have already identified Mrs. Preston, your Pastor's wife's 'gender', no need to tell me that Mrs. Preston is a 'she'. Now continue, if you will, and Thank You."
Or, do it in your own inimitable way, YOU ARE ALL smart enough to figure out a way to tell people that they do not have to double the gender in the same sentence, especially if they are referring to only one person. They have already established it.
Errrgghh!
Friday, February 6, 2009
I have a new obsession
I have a new obsession.
Cinnamon graham crackers with 'Nutella'! (pronounced "new-tell-uh"),
If you haven't had Nutella, boy, are you ever missing a joy in this world.
It is when you really need chocolate and don't have any chocolate bars in those favourite hiding spots in the house, and do not want to open that bag of 'designated cookie' chocolate chips.
Plus it is spreadable! How great is that!?
I have known about Nutella for years, but was introduced to it by a young East Indian couple at the Maple Grove WalMart last year. I saw that they had it in their cart and stopped to ask about it. She told me about it and said that there was a stand in the front of the store with a dollar off coupon. She told me where it was in the store, and I went and got a jar. She met up with me a few aisles away and asked if I had gotten a coupon, and I said that I hadn't (I'm not really a coupon shopper, but will change now after getting some very good advice on how to really save money). She graciously gave me two of her coupons to use.
For those not in the know, Nutella is a hazelnut spread with skim milk and cocoa. A 13 ounce jar is made with over 50 hazelnuts per jar. You do not have to refrigerate it or microwave it to get it soft. It already is. For a 2 tbsp serving the total fat is 11g, 0 cholesterol, 15 mg sodium, 22g total carb (mind you, it is for TWO tablespoons, that's a humongous amount!), 1 gr fiber and 3 gr protein. No vitamin A, no vitamin C, but calcium is 4% and iron is 4%.
The jar said it is delicious on whole wheat, multigrain and bakery breads, bagels, English muffins, waffles, toast, croissants........add cinnamon grahams!
I am going to go to http://www.nutellausa.com/ to see what else is in there.
Got the cinnamon grahams earlier this week at Aldi's grocery (first time in there, ever, was pleased with my $10.00 shopping spree), and mentioned to Margaret that I hadn't had graham crackers in the house forever because dear hubby would sniff and snuff them out. Am re-looking at the foods I need to eat to stay healthy. Graham is back on the horizon, even though the fiber is listed as less than 1 gram, but protein is 2 gr. The numbers are interesting.
calories 130 calories from fat 25
total fat 3 gr
cholesterol 0mg
sodium 105 mg
total carbohydrates 25 gr
sugars 10g
Iron 6%
So in the general scheme of things, it isn't raw veggies, BUT, when that chocolate craving rears its ugly head, grahams and Nutella.
Thank you, Lord, for a small blessing.
Cinnamon graham crackers with 'Nutella'! (pronounced "new-tell-uh"),
If you haven't had Nutella, boy, are you ever missing a joy in this world.
It is when you really need chocolate and don't have any chocolate bars in those favourite hiding spots in the house, and do not want to open that bag of 'designated cookie' chocolate chips.
Plus it is spreadable! How great is that!?
I have known about Nutella for years, but was introduced to it by a young East Indian couple at the Maple Grove WalMart last year. I saw that they had it in their cart and stopped to ask about it. She told me about it and said that there was a stand in the front of the store with a dollar off coupon. She told me where it was in the store, and I went and got a jar. She met up with me a few aisles away and asked if I had gotten a coupon, and I said that I hadn't (I'm not really a coupon shopper, but will change now after getting some very good advice on how to really save money). She graciously gave me two of her coupons to use.
For those not in the know, Nutella is a hazelnut spread with skim milk and cocoa. A 13 ounce jar is made with over 50 hazelnuts per jar. You do not have to refrigerate it or microwave it to get it soft. It already is. For a 2 tbsp serving the total fat is 11g, 0 cholesterol, 15 mg sodium, 22g total carb (mind you, it is for TWO tablespoons, that's a humongous amount!), 1 gr fiber and 3 gr protein. No vitamin A, no vitamin C, but calcium is 4% and iron is 4%.
The jar said it is delicious on whole wheat, multigrain and bakery breads, bagels, English muffins, waffles, toast, croissants........add cinnamon grahams!
I am going to go to http://www.nutellausa.com/ to see what else is in there.
Got the cinnamon grahams earlier this week at Aldi's grocery (first time in there, ever, was pleased with my $10.00 shopping spree), and mentioned to Margaret that I hadn't had graham crackers in the house forever because dear hubby would sniff and snuff them out. Am re-looking at the foods I need to eat to stay healthy. Graham is back on the horizon, even though the fiber is listed as less than 1 gram, but protein is 2 gr. The numbers are interesting.
calories 130 calories from fat 25
total fat 3 gr
cholesterol 0mg
sodium 105 mg
total carbohydrates 25 gr
sugars 10g
Iron 6%
So in the general scheme of things, it isn't raw veggies, BUT, when that chocolate craving rears its ugly head, grahams and Nutella.
Thank you, Lord, for a small blessing.
SOUNDS
Has it ever occurred to anyone how hearing is 'different' between men and women?
The classic in my life was when a former relative was told of an 'non-before' noise in a car, and his response was "Turn Up The Radio!"
I don't know what it is between men and women on hearing noises that weren't there before.
Perhaps it is because we, as women and mothers, have to listen for the smallest, tiniest sound emanating from the smaller members of the human race in our domiciles in order to keep them safe.
Our children.
While men blithely drive or sleep on and on and on.
We can hear the slightest change in pitch of the furnace, car engine, refrigerator, ANY mechanical device.
Ask the man in your immediate relationship to identify the problem and you get the 'You have got to be kidding' look.
Or, as in the former relative, "TURN THE RADIO UP!"
But...........get them out hunting, and they can hear mouse footfalls in the woods 30 feet away.
Get them out in a male dominated area such as the Indy 500 and they can tell if an engine is the smallest micro-meter off.
I find that so funny.
Yet, they constantly put us down for that ability to say "the furnace isn't running right, would you check on it for me, please?"
Maybe we should retaliate and get that same, mirroring look on our faces when they ask us what is wrong.......Ooooh, wouldn't that be the best 'backatcha' ever?
Don't get me wrong, MOST men are deserving of our praise and trust. However, there are those few that are spoiling it for the 'gems' we have found to live with daily. Is it in how we raise our male offspring?
I tried to raise my male offspring to respect the female in his life. I don't really know if I succeeded, I hope so, his spouse is just the cutest little bug. She is so smart and loves to teach those small kids in her charge.
But.......
There are women out there that raise their male offspring to believe differently, and that any woman in his life is secondary to him.
We all have different ways to raise our children.
As to which is best, I don't know.
I do know that my Mother-in-law raised my husband beautifully. I am truly blessed to have him in my life.
My father-in-law is the most gentle man and had a lot to contribute in the raising of this man and a lot for Bobby to emulate. He does so continually.
There are a lot of things in life I don't know.
But, I am willing to learn.....and listen.
The classic in my life was when a former relative was told of an 'non-before' noise in a car, and his response was "Turn Up The Radio!"
I don't know what it is between men and women on hearing noises that weren't there before.
Perhaps it is because we, as women and mothers, have to listen for the smallest, tiniest sound emanating from the smaller members of the human race in our domiciles in order to keep them safe.
Our children.
While men blithely drive or sleep on and on and on.
We can hear the slightest change in pitch of the furnace, car engine, refrigerator, ANY mechanical device.
Ask the man in your immediate relationship to identify the problem and you get the 'You have got to be kidding' look.
Or, as in the former relative, "TURN THE RADIO UP!"
But...........get them out hunting, and they can hear mouse footfalls in the woods 30 feet away.
Get them out in a male dominated area such as the Indy 500 and they can tell if an engine is the smallest micro-meter off.
I find that so funny.
Yet, they constantly put us down for that ability to say "the furnace isn't running right, would you check on it for me, please?"
Maybe we should retaliate and get that same, mirroring look on our faces when they ask us what is wrong.......Ooooh, wouldn't that be the best 'backatcha' ever?
Don't get me wrong, MOST men are deserving of our praise and trust. However, there are those few that are spoiling it for the 'gems' we have found to live with daily. Is it in how we raise our male offspring?
I tried to raise my male offspring to respect the female in his life. I don't really know if I succeeded, I hope so, his spouse is just the cutest little bug. She is so smart and loves to teach those small kids in her charge.
But.......
There are women out there that raise their male offspring to believe differently, and that any woman in his life is secondary to him.
We all have different ways to raise our children.
As to which is best, I don't know.
I do know that my Mother-in-law raised my husband beautifully. I am truly blessed to have him in my life.
My father-in-law is the most gentle man and had a lot to contribute in the raising of this man and a lot for Bobby to emulate. He does so continually.
There are a lot of things in life I don't know.
But, I am willing to learn.....and listen.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
American Idol
I really don't understand the American Idol tryouts and the airing of these tryouts. They are demeaning, self-serving to the "hosts/judges" and just downright awful. Not-withstanding that 'Simon Cruel' has enough money, does he have to perpetuate the people he and the other 'judges' makes laughing-stock out of? And get that new female off the show.....talk about a sad concept of a 'judge'.
There is even a "Rewind" American Idol aired late-night where you can make fun of the contestant AGAIN.
My suggestion is for them to sift through all those contestants privately- non taped, only show those winners, and then on to the contest.
Save us hours and hours of mindless, boring, shabby tabloid viewings of those hapless people trying and thinking they are good.
My second request is that while briefly in the bedroom where hubby was watching, they had one girl singing one of Karen Carpenter's lovely songs. She however, hacked it up in the 'rap manner of singing' with the singing of all the notes available in the musical scale in trying to find the one note that Karen Carpenter sang so beautifully.
Arrrrrgggghhh.
A POX on all the American Idol people!
OR, maybe it is because I have a quality discerning ear, and know good music when I hear it, and Baby, American Idol Isn't It!
There is even a "Rewind" American Idol aired late-night where you can make fun of the contestant AGAIN.
My suggestion is for them to sift through all those contestants privately- non taped, only show those winners, and then on to the contest.
Save us hours and hours of mindless, boring, shabby tabloid viewings of those hapless people trying and thinking they are good.
My second request is that while briefly in the bedroom where hubby was watching, they had one girl singing one of Karen Carpenter's lovely songs. She however, hacked it up in the 'rap manner of singing' with the singing of all the notes available in the musical scale in trying to find the one note that Karen Carpenter sang so beautifully.
Arrrrrgggghhh.
A POX on all the American Idol people!
OR, maybe it is because I have a quality discerning ear, and know good music when I hear it, and Baby, American Idol Isn't It!
Friday, January 23, 2009
Comments
Yesterday was enough to make me want to crawl into a hole and not want to come back out.
How can another person's view of me want to make me just hide from humanity?
I have done nothing wrong.
Nothing a decent, caring person has reason to hide.
It is amazing how this other person's view of me is so slanted. But then I have to consider the mental state of that other person.
On another level, I find it interesting that there are no comments shared on any of these posts.
Hmmm.
Perhaps I should just close the public view and keep it for my own private self.
Obviously having a bad day here.This has nothing to do with the comments that people would share with me, just some 'rambling'.
How can another person's view of me want to make me just hide from humanity?
I have done nothing wrong.
Nothing a decent, caring person has reason to hide.
It is amazing how this other person's view of me is so slanted. But then I have to consider the mental state of that other person.
On another level, I find it interesting that there are no comments shared on any of these posts.
Hmmm.
Perhaps I should just close the public view and keep it for my own private self.
Obviously having a bad day here.This has nothing to do with the comments that people would share with me, just some 'rambling'.
Monday, January 19, 2009
When did I get old?
When did I get old?
I find myself making noises when I move.
Grunting when I bend over, and making a whooshing sound when I reach for something. There are other sounds, but these two are the most prevalent.
These are sounds that old people make.
I am not old.
Why, in my mind I am still that sassy 35 year old, moving with the grace of a dancer and with the speed of light and just as bright.
Thirty five year olds do not grunt and whoosh.
When did this happen?
I find myself making noises when I move.
Grunting when I bend over, and making a whooshing sound when I reach for something. There are other sounds, but these two are the most prevalent.
These are sounds that old people make.
I am not old.
Why, in my mind I am still that sassy 35 year old, moving with the grace of a dancer and with the speed of light and just as bright.
Thirty five year olds do not grunt and whoosh.
When did this happen?
Walking in the snow
I was walking to the Foreston convenience store yesterday. I was at the auction house, and decided to walk the block and a half.
No one was out and about, Sundays being a slow traffic zone in Foreston. It was after mass, and all the mass go-ers had already driven off, and everyone else was in their homes settling down to breakfast.
As I walked back to the auction house, I was reminded of the winter night I spent with Lynn Sullivan at her house around 42nd and Fremont North in Minneapolis. My Mother had allowed me to go on a 'sleep-over' at Lynn's house. I was attending Patrick Henry, so it was during early high school years.
I don't remember the downstairs, but Lynn's bedroom was on the second floor at the front of this huge, square brick house on Fremont Avenue. Her bedroom was 'half' of the upstairs. It was marvelous.
It was when I was trying to find what they call now a 'forever-friend'. As with most sleep-overs, neither one of us could settle down and sleep. So we ended up sitting on the window seat looking out her front windows onto Fremont Avenue. Fremont Avenue is a bus route straight to downtown Minneapolis, that enviable 50's 'Mall of America' shopping district.
It was snowing, the street lights were on and the whole world outside her window was bathed in a comforting golden light. No one was about, with the exception of an occasional car and bus, and we were the only kids to view this beautiful, quiet snowy night from that great vantage point of a second story window. Her house was also 'up' from the street level, their lawn included a 5-7 foot bank of grass, so it was quite a height with the ground height and the two story house.
There were no night plows in the late 50's. Everyone semed to have had a day job in the city works department. They got up very early to move the snow around, but I rather like the idea of men manning those plows during the night as we sleep, as we have them now. Maybe I am wrong. Maybe there are no night shifts to move the snow. It doesn't matter, as I have this beautiful memory of Lynn and I in the cocoon of a heavy snowfall outside her window. I don't remember her Mom or Dad, I do remember she had a brother, and that is where this memory ends.
Just that 'after midnight' coziness of two early teen-aged girls whispering in a sleep-quieted house, exchanging giggles, dreams, talking about our communal friends, our hopes and wishes for our futures.
I remember that experience with great fondness. Lynn and I never really connected as that 'Best Friends Forever', but we enjoyed a wonderful, after midnight view of a quiet, snowy city street.
Sunday's walk in the snow was just as fulfilling, even though the walk was solitary. There were big, fat, lazy snowflakes drifting down, and the quiet was marvelously comforting. I found myself walking slower to enjoy this quiet, 'private' time.
When the shop was going, just as we were going in to bed around 2 or 3 in the morning, Bobby and I would often walk out to the middle of the road, before 'people' moved into our quiet, isolated neighborhood. On winter nights, we could faintly hear the traffic on hwy 169. It was a quiet cocoon. An occasional farm dog bark, but rarely anything else. On foggy nights, the cotton-wrapped night was even more special.
It is one of the memories I had to log.
"Memories lost are memories not written down."
Once in a while I will be in a situation that will dredge up a long-forgotten memory that I had truly forgotten.
Yesterday's softly falling snow brought up this one. I hope you enjoyed my word-pictures as much as I have in bringing it up to 'write it down'.
No one was out and about, Sundays being a slow traffic zone in Foreston. It was after mass, and all the mass go-ers had already driven off, and everyone else was in their homes settling down to breakfast.
As I walked back to the auction house, I was reminded of the winter night I spent with Lynn Sullivan at her house around 42nd and Fremont North in Minneapolis. My Mother had allowed me to go on a 'sleep-over' at Lynn's house. I was attending Patrick Henry, so it was during early high school years.
I don't remember the downstairs, but Lynn's bedroom was on the second floor at the front of this huge, square brick house on Fremont Avenue. Her bedroom was 'half' of the upstairs. It was marvelous.
It was when I was trying to find what they call now a 'forever-friend'. As with most sleep-overs, neither one of us could settle down and sleep. So we ended up sitting on the window seat looking out her front windows onto Fremont Avenue. Fremont Avenue is a bus route straight to downtown Minneapolis, that enviable 50's 'Mall of America' shopping district.
It was snowing, the street lights were on and the whole world outside her window was bathed in a comforting golden light. No one was about, with the exception of an occasional car and bus, and we were the only kids to view this beautiful, quiet snowy night from that great vantage point of a second story window. Her house was also 'up' from the street level, their lawn included a 5-7 foot bank of grass, so it was quite a height with the ground height and the two story house.
There were no night plows in the late 50's. Everyone semed to have had a day job in the city works department. They got up very early to move the snow around, but I rather like the idea of men manning those plows during the night as we sleep, as we have them now. Maybe I am wrong. Maybe there are no night shifts to move the snow. It doesn't matter, as I have this beautiful memory of Lynn and I in the cocoon of a heavy snowfall outside her window. I don't remember her Mom or Dad, I do remember she had a brother, and that is where this memory ends.
Just that 'after midnight' coziness of two early teen-aged girls whispering in a sleep-quieted house, exchanging giggles, dreams, talking about our communal friends, our hopes and wishes for our futures.
I remember that experience with great fondness. Lynn and I never really connected as that 'Best Friends Forever', but we enjoyed a wonderful, after midnight view of a quiet, snowy city street.
Sunday's walk in the snow was just as fulfilling, even though the walk was solitary. There were big, fat, lazy snowflakes drifting down, and the quiet was marvelously comforting. I found myself walking slower to enjoy this quiet, 'private' time.
When the shop was going, just as we were going in to bed around 2 or 3 in the morning, Bobby and I would often walk out to the middle of the road, before 'people' moved into our quiet, isolated neighborhood. On winter nights, we could faintly hear the traffic on hwy 169. It was a quiet cocoon. An occasional farm dog bark, but rarely anything else. On foggy nights, the cotton-wrapped night was even more special.
It is one of the memories I had to log.
"Memories lost are memories not written down."
Once in a while I will be in a situation that will dredge up a long-forgotten memory that I had truly forgotten.
Yesterday's softly falling snow brought up this one. I hope you enjoyed my word-pictures as much as I have in bringing it up to 'write it down'.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
The second time I heard Angels
Hanging clothes outside in the backyard lets me 'see' many things.
I hear wonderful things also.
One early morning, I could hear them before I saw them.
Those great 'V's' of Canadian Geese. I could hear them 'talking and singing' to each other one morning. I swiveled until I could spot them. I had a hard time in that and they were getting close. I could hear them coming from the east.
And then they were here.
Right above me.
The reason I couldn't see them was that they were just barely above the tree tops, 50 feet high at the most. As they came to the trees on the top of our hill, they quieted. But I could see them so clearly. Closer than I ever had before.
As they passed over my head, they were no longer 'talking', just flyng.
I heard the swish of their pin feathers on their wings as they flew over.
It is a marvelous thing to hear Canadian Geese fly over you.
You will never forget the sound of Angel's wings.
It will warm your soul for years to come.
I hear wonderful things also.
One early morning, I could hear them before I saw them.
Those great 'V's' of Canadian Geese. I could hear them 'talking and singing' to each other one morning. I swiveled until I could spot them. I had a hard time in that and they were getting close. I could hear them coming from the east.
And then they were here.
Right above me.
The reason I couldn't see them was that they were just barely above the tree tops, 50 feet high at the most. As they came to the trees on the top of our hill, they quieted. But I could see them so clearly. Closer than I ever had before.
As they passed over my head, they were no longer 'talking', just flyng.
I heard the swish of their pin feathers on their wings as they flew over.
It is a marvelous thing to hear Canadian Geese fly over you.
You will never forget the sound of Angel's wings.
It will warm your soul for years to come.
Have you ever heard Angels?
I have.
Twice.
The first was years ago when we were on the flyway for Monarch butterflies.
I was hanging clothes outside on the lines and saw this incredible sight of these beautiful 'beings' swarming the yard and hanging from the trees ringing the yard. It was amazing seeing them fly to the branches, and effortlessly 'snuggle' between those that had come to rest first.
I know that Monarchs need to find somewhere to rest when the evening temperatures cool, and it was incredible to see these beautiful orange and black 'beings' on my tree branches, ALL over the back yard.
I stayed outside for a long time watching them quiver as they settled in for the night.
The next morning, I watched them slowly warm as the temperatures increased. They were all quivering to wakefulness, or maybe they don't sleep, but just rest. That is something we just don't know.
Then it happened. The temperature reached that necessary point.
As ONE, they all left the branches of the shrubs and trees.
That is when I heard the Angel's wings.
It is a soft sound, almost not even there, but it is.
Almost like a swishing of a silk material, but so very, very soft.
And then they were gone.
Their journey to Mexico one day closer.
I was so grateful to our Lord for that experience.
You never, ever 'hear' one Monarch fly, but in the thousands, you are given a gift and my heart swelled with the beauty of it.
I have.
Twice.
The first was years ago when we were on the flyway for Monarch butterflies.
I was hanging clothes outside on the lines and saw this incredible sight of these beautiful 'beings' swarming the yard and hanging from the trees ringing the yard. It was amazing seeing them fly to the branches, and effortlessly 'snuggle' between those that had come to rest first.
I know that Monarchs need to find somewhere to rest when the evening temperatures cool, and it was incredible to see these beautiful orange and black 'beings' on my tree branches, ALL over the back yard.
I stayed outside for a long time watching them quiver as they settled in for the night.
The next morning, I watched them slowly warm as the temperatures increased. They were all quivering to wakefulness, or maybe they don't sleep, but just rest. That is something we just don't know.
Then it happened. The temperature reached that necessary point.
As ONE, they all left the branches of the shrubs and trees.
That is when I heard the Angel's wings.
It is a soft sound, almost not even there, but it is.
Almost like a swishing of a silk material, but so very, very soft.
And then they were gone.
Their journey to Mexico one day closer.
I was so grateful to our Lord for that experience.
You never, ever 'hear' one Monarch fly, but in the thousands, you are given a gift and my heart swelled with the beauty of it.
Driving or not in snow
Well I don't know what is going on with the roads, but with the snow coming down this year, the roads are 'slipperier' than I ever remember.
I didn't attempt the drive down to the cities today, cancelled both appointments. One in Clearwater, the other New Brighton.
Just the drive to the Milaca outskirts was enough to tell me it wasn't a good idea. I just didn't want to add to the congestion and waste time in slow moving traffic. When Bobby came home and said that there were people in spin-outs everywhere, I knew I had made a good decision. His main comment was that people just don't know how to enter or exit a roadway. I agree, and have had to be behind someone that actually stopped on the bottom of an entry to the freeway. Just stopped to look and see what the traffic was. Now that's cautious. Meanwhile, the rest of us behind him are braking suddenly at this abnormal driving behaviour.
People can be soooo interesting.
The rest of my day was uneventful. Grocery shopping, stamp buying, then home to do laundry. Am almost caught up. I do love that little apartment-sized washing machine. Well, want to bring up another post subject, so will end this one. Huggs to all..
I didn't attempt the drive down to the cities today, cancelled both appointments. One in Clearwater, the other New Brighton.
Just the drive to the Milaca outskirts was enough to tell me it wasn't a good idea. I just didn't want to add to the congestion and waste time in slow moving traffic. When Bobby came home and said that there were people in spin-outs everywhere, I knew I had made a good decision. His main comment was that people just don't know how to enter or exit a roadway. I agree, and have had to be behind someone that actually stopped on the bottom of an entry to the freeway. Just stopped to look and see what the traffic was. Now that's cautious. Meanwhile, the rest of us behind him are braking suddenly at this abnormal driving behaviour.
People can be soooo interesting.
The rest of my day was uneventful. Grocery shopping, stamp buying, then home to do laundry. Am almost caught up. I do love that little apartment-sized washing machine. Well, want to bring up another post subject, so will end this one. Huggs to all..
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Sister Dee's 15 Minute Tex-Mex Rice Casserole
15 Minute Tex-Mex Rice Casserole
(Many grateful 'thanks' to my sister Dee for sharing this marvelous recipe)
2 c cooked brown rice
[I used one pkg Uncle Ben's 8.8 oz package of microwavable brown rice, marvelous stuff that package--just right for two people. Otherwise I make rice in my rice cooker for 15!]
1 1/2 c tomato salsa
[I used one-10 ounce 283 gr can of the RoTel 'Medium' variety w/diced tomatoes and green chilis, and they are NOT the hot chilis]
1 tsp chili powder
15 oz can black beans not drained
[I would drain the can if using just the one package of rice]
7 oz can or 1 cup frozen whole kernel corn
[I used 1 cup of canned corn]
2 oz reduced-fat sharp cheddar cheese, sliced 1/4 in thick
(Dee uses the shredded kind in the bag)
Optional: 2 Tbsp chopped black or green olives
[Put these under the cheese. I used black olives and could have used green also since I saved on the sodium with the RoTel, and next time I will add about 1/2 to 1c of diced onions for more flavour and crunch]
Combine first 5 ingredients. Spoon into a 6" x 6" shallow casserole. Top with sliced cheese, then olives. Microwave on high for 12 minutes until heated through and cheese is melted.
[I baked it at 325 for about 35-45 minutes and it was smelling soooo good! I opened the oven door and actually took a soul-satisfying whiff! Brown rice is marvelous, dahling!]
Now you have the recipe for all that posting I did. I hope you enjoy this, microwaving it is also easy, but I wanted the heat from the oven and that also mainly delayed me from hitting it with the spoon and eating it ALL before hubby got home, lol!
Serves 4
Per serving: 289 cal
4.6g fat (2g saturated)
13,7g protein
49g carb
8g fiber
1,150 mg sodium
(Many grateful 'thanks' to my sister Dee for sharing this marvelous recipe)
2 c cooked brown rice
[I used one pkg Uncle Ben's 8.8 oz package of microwavable brown rice, marvelous stuff that package--just right for two people. Otherwise I make rice in my rice cooker for 15!]
1 1/2 c tomato salsa
[I used one-10 ounce 283 gr can of the RoTel 'Medium' variety w/diced tomatoes and green chilis, and they are NOT the hot chilis]
1 tsp chili powder
15 oz can black beans not drained
[I would drain the can if using just the one package of rice]
7 oz can or 1 cup frozen whole kernel corn
[I used 1 cup of canned corn]
2 oz reduced-fat sharp cheddar cheese, sliced 1/4 in thick
(Dee uses the shredded kind in the bag)
Optional: 2 Tbsp chopped black or green olives
[Put these under the cheese. I used black olives and could have used green also since I saved on the sodium with the RoTel, and next time I will add about 1/2 to 1c of diced onions for more flavour and crunch]
Combine first 5 ingredients. Spoon into a 6" x 6" shallow casserole. Top with sliced cheese, then olives. Microwave on high for 12 minutes until heated through and cheese is melted.
[I baked it at 325 for about 35-45 minutes and it was smelling soooo good! I opened the oven door and actually took a soul-satisfying whiff! Brown rice is marvelous, dahling!]
Now you have the recipe for all that posting I did. I hope you enjoy this, microwaving it is also easy, but I wanted the heat from the oven and that also mainly delayed me from hitting it with the spoon and eating it ALL before hubby got home, lol!
Serves 4
Per serving: 289 cal
4.6g fat (2g saturated)
13,7g protein
49g carb
8g fiber
1,150 mg sodium
There was an ingredient missing from the 15 Minute Tex-Mex Casserole. It was a can of corn.
Since I got the recipe, I have been enjoying it very, very much. I have been doling it out here and there and am having the last 1/2 cup now.
This morning was supposed to be brunch 'out', but since I didn't make it to church because of our hazardous roads, I didn't think that going out to brunch would be too 'kosher'. I did make a pretty darned good breakfast though. Shoot, just remembered that I have a couple of tubes of biscuits in the fridge and I was going to bake one. Didn't get to bake any yesterday morning since hubby got a call from Sheila saying that Dustin didn't make it home to help her load/unload the truck as he was supposed to do. Dustin got paid for it ahead of time. Bobby called him and said he wanted money back because he was up fishing and drinking and didn't make it back to help his mother.
[Bobby said that is was because he is 18 and just a kid....I am not buying it. I admittedly have a problem with people that drink too much so that they get drunk and pass out, and then laugh about it!
I went through enough hell with a person that I loved very much that did that, and I have no more patience for people that drink.]
We had a good amount of time when it rained and then froze on our vehicles and roads and yard last night, then it snowed about an inch and a half over that.
I have already been pulled out of the ditch once this winter, and am not willing to repeat it. I lost my beloved fog light bumper and lights with that one, and am not willing to play 'swing the chick-pickup around' on ice again. I was the second vehicle off that bridge that day, and not one police car was stationed there at the bridge to warn us. Hmmph.
So I stayed home this morning. Will do my prayers in a bit. I have some serious praying to do to make up for not going to church. I hate missing church. I am honored in receiving the Body and Blood of Christ.
I missed it for over 30 years, and it left a big hole in my life. I am a 'cradle' Roman Catholic, and missing those 30+ years is a huge black stain in my life.
Thank You Dear 'Holy Spirit' through Father Charlie. I have the gift of receiving the Eucharist and Blood of Christ back that means an awful lot to me.
I hope everyone is driving safely and watches out for the other drivers, and remember those black ice bridges and on/off ramps.
Huggs to all.
Since I got the recipe, I have been enjoying it very, very much. I have been doling it out here and there and am having the last 1/2 cup now.
This morning was supposed to be brunch 'out', but since I didn't make it to church because of our hazardous roads, I didn't think that going out to brunch would be too 'kosher'. I did make a pretty darned good breakfast though. Shoot, just remembered that I have a couple of tubes of biscuits in the fridge and I was going to bake one. Didn't get to bake any yesterday morning since hubby got a call from Sheila saying that Dustin didn't make it home to help her load/unload the truck as he was supposed to do. Dustin got paid for it ahead of time. Bobby called him and said he wanted money back because he was up fishing and drinking and didn't make it back to help his mother.
[Bobby said that is was because he is 18 and just a kid....I am not buying it. I admittedly have a problem with people that drink too much so that they get drunk and pass out, and then laugh about it!
I went through enough hell with a person that I loved very much that did that, and I have no more patience for people that drink.]
We had a good amount of time when it rained and then froze on our vehicles and roads and yard last night, then it snowed about an inch and a half over that.
I have already been pulled out of the ditch once this winter, and am not willing to repeat it. I lost my beloved fog light bumper and lights with that one, and am not willing to play 'swing the chick-pickup around' on ice again. I was the second vehicle off that bridge that day, and not one police car was stationed there at the bridge to warn us. Hmmph.
So I stayed home this morning. Will do my prayers in a bit. I have some serious praying to do to make up for not going to church. I hate missing church. I am honored in receiving the Body and Blood of Christ.
I missed it for over 30 years, and it left a big hole in my life. I am a 'cradle' Roman Catholic, and missing those 30+ years is a huge black stain in my life.
Thank You Dear 'Holy Spirit' through Father Charlie. I have the gift of receiving the Eucharist and Blood of Christ back that means an awful lot to me.
I hope everyone is driving safely and watches out for the other drivers, and remember those black ice bridges and on/off ramps.
Huggs to all.
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