Day 30 of NaBloPoMo2018: Last post for November!

"Rudolph, the red-nosed school bus..." 

We just got home from watching the annual Kiwanis Club Christmas parade in downtown Irvine (and Ravenna).

It was a lot of fun to see the excitement shining on faces of both young and old.  Our grandkids were particularly excited to see this school bus.

I appreciate the hard work our business owners, churches and other organizations expended to hang lights and decorate floats, storefronts, city streets, etc., and it was heartwarming to see a good turnout of spectators. Thank goodness the rain stopped for the evening, and the gusty winds forecasted for later this evening held off!

Anyway, it's late and I'm tired, so my last blog post of this November challenge is going to be a short one.

But I did it!  I didn't miss a day!

Some days I didn't have much to say that was worth reading, but I've learned the only way to find out is to sit down at the keyboard and start typing.  Sometimes it's surprising where your thoughts will lead you.

Of course, just about any book you read about the writing process will tell you that....just do it.  Just sit down and write something.

And that's what I've done for thirty days in a row now! Mission accomplished.

Not sure how frequently I'll be back...hopefully before next November, tho!

Thanks for reading!

Day 29 of NaBloPoMo2018: A change of direction

So, this creek marks the lower boundary of our farm.  There's a small island there in the middle of the bend of the creek, probably 150 feet or so long. 

I've often wondered about it...how did this channel of water work its way around this chunk of land?  Why does it flow on either side like this?  

Over the course of the more than 30 years that we've lived here, we've noticed the island is slowly eroding.  

You can see the erosion better in these two photos....how the water has undercut the vegetation and is washing the soil away from below the trees.  I expect we could see those trees topple and possibly the whole island wash away in our lifetime.  A lot of it has eroded in just the last few years.

Even more curious to me is the new land mass developing in the top photo, to the right.  At first glance, it looks like a low creek bank.  But it isn't. It used to be, though.

When we first moved to this farm, that growing creek bank, which is now 15 to 20 feet high, was just a gravel bar, lying almost at creek level.

This section is very soft...made up of silt and leaves.  In a wet season, such as we've had all year, to walk on it is to sink over your shoe tops.  In a dryer season, it feels spongy.

Something has affected the change in this short stretch of creek.  Something has changed the water's path just enough to deposit "land" just above the island while carving away at the existing island.

Who cares? Well, possibly nobody but us, but my hubby and I puzzle about it every time we walk down here.

I'm sure there's something to be learned from this, some profound life lesson, if I could just figure it out.   😉

I don't know of any major changes up the creek, which appears to have been running along pretty much as usual for decades.  Or has it?

Changes happen verrry slowly over time, changes that we might even miss if we aren't paying attention.

Another example of this: In the little branch (stream, tributary of the creek, whatever) here by the house I've witnessed how a felled tree altered the path of the water and eventually, over the course of about five years, created a small waterfall.

It amazes me that I've observed the birth of a waterfall.  Maybe it will be 20 feet tall in a century or two.  Or maybe another tree will fall and change the water's course again.  Who knows?

Moral of this story?

Lisa needs to hush and go to bed.

Do you have an alternative application?

Day 28 of NaBloPoMo2018: It's the simple things

Just look at this bright-eyed little cutie.  Ivy's already a month old, and she's changing and growing so fast.  She's focusing those bright eyes now and seemed very intrigued with the Christmas tree and me wearing glasses.  Miss Oaklee showed her excellent mothering skills today too, rocking Miss Ivy in this little chair thing-a-ma-jig. She carefully placed a teddy bear beside her and tenderly covered her with a blanket.  So sweet!!These are just a few of the joys this day brought.  Oaklee and I entertained each other by making up big yarns, and she tapped them out on the keyboard (not plugged up), like a story-telling boss. Clay entertained himself with looking up sports scores on my phone, as well as some of his favorite YouTube videos.  But whether it is a recent basketball or football game, there's a good chance he can tell ya something about it.  Maybe I can make a sports reporter out of him. I so enjoyed my girls' company, too, and talking with them about everything from food to climate change to a book I'm reading.Yes, I've loved being home today, just messing and gomming and piddling' around.  Then, before dark, I took a nice long walk out under the blue sky with these wisps of bright clouds overhead, and I think to myself..."What a wonderful life."  Not perfect by any means, but wonderful.  And I thank the good Lord for it!       

Day 27 of NaBloPoMo 2018: It's 6 o'clock, now what?

If that ain't a raw-looking landscape, I don't know what is.  But there's a bare-bones beauty to it that I still enjoyed during a very brisk evening walk.  

The 48th edition of the Citizen Voice and Times has been laid to rest, as far as my co-workers and I are concerned, and that means there are only four more issues remaining in 2018! 

That's crazy!  

I live out of weekly folders, people, and it seems like a couple of months or so ago that I was creating folders for January!

After I got home from work and the grocery, I hurried to change into my muck boots and a warmer coat and pull on an ear wrap and gloves. 

I set off across the muddy fields at a brisk clip, because, well, the breeze was brisk, and who wants to linger outside when it's freezing out there? 

But I'd been sitting so long, and I felt that I needed to move.  

I completed my walk, fed the dogs and cats, and came in and warmed up some leftovers for supper-again.  

I'm getting a bit tired of turkey, and I'm thinking some tomato-y saucy dish would be good for a change.  Maybe lasagna or spaghetti and meatballs. 

Now that we've eaten, the evening stretches before me with endless opportunity...but it's hard to make up my mind.  Do I want to finish the novel I began last week? Do I want to flip through the half-dozen or so magazines that have piled up over the past couple of weeks? 

Is there something interesting on TV?  Or should I bake something?  

Something warm and chocolate-y.  And sweet and fattening. 

Or should I do all of the above, budgeting an hour or so to this and an hour or so to that?

Hmmmm....choices, choices. 

With the snow flying and no place to go, it's a good dilemma to have right now.  

Later! 👋

Day 26 of NaBloPoMo2018: Cyber Monday, anyone?

My Cyber Monday has consisted of sifting through dozens and dozens of emails, sorting and filing information, and otherwise getting ready for a busy Tuesday which is production day at the newspaper. Even that is mostly done electronically these days.

Therefore, I've not had time to go online and search "the bargains."

Apparently a lot of people are, though.  And if I didn't have a meeting to attend in a few minutes, I probably would be also.

Maybe I'll miss the best deals, but I plan to look later.  I'm buying a few more presents online each year, and I love the convenience of it.

Few things frustrate me more than wandering around in a store, with little-to-no idea of what I'm after or what people would like.

Even with the increase in cyber-shopping, I'm hearing news reports that Amazon is hiring fewer seasonal workers for the holidays for the first time ever.

But they are putting many more robots to work, and the increased automation at their warehouses is making quite a difference in their productivity.  In October, Amazon said they'd be raising their minimum wage to $15 an hour, likely because of the increase of productivity from the 'bots.

It's crazy, and likely a sign of things to come for other companies and manufacturers.

Wouldn't it be great if someone invented a robot to do all our Christmas shopping?  Maybe feed the little boogers a lot of information about those for whom we are shopping, such as their ages, interests, etc., then turn 'em loose.

And if they also handled the wrapping, that would suit me just fine too.

Day 25 of NaBloPoMo 2018: Another round of Thanksgiving

This whole blogging thing for the month of November is zipping right by.  There's less than a week of it left!  

Today we gathered at my husband's parents' house for another giant meal with a half dozen desserts.  

*Sigh* I was glad to get into my pjs tonight!  They have an elastic waist.  😀

But it was fun seeing more reactions to the newest baby in the family. Seems like a short time ago that I was carrying our little babies to these family functions. 

The weather was nice, so we took a walk to the creek, which the kids always enjoy.  I mean, if you want to make a kid happy, take them to a creek and let them throw rocks into it.  That's all it takes to keep them entertained!

Back at home, I finished decorating the third Christmas tree, so now it's time to shift gears into shopping mode.  Exactly one month from today is Christmas!  Holy guacamole.

I like the look of this weathered old tree root.  I think it would look good in someone's yard with plants tucked into some of those cavities.

Day 24 of NaBloPoMo 2018: More favorite things

I only have one tree up and decorated, but the weather was so nice for late November that we spent most of it outside.

"I cannot endure to waste anything so precious as autumnal sunshine by staying in the house.  So I have spent almost all the daylight hours in the open air," wrote Nathaniel Hawthorne.

I'm right there with you, Nate.

 This morning started out feeling a bit raw as the leftover dampness from last night's rain and the chilly breeze seeped through our clothing. But after the sun came out, the day was just right for setting out the rest of the Christmas decorations and hanging the lights.

That job isn't much fun when it's really cold!

Not only did we get all the outdoor decorations up
 (unless I see something else that catches my eye to buy), but we cleaned off some flower beds, and dug up the dahlia bulbs.

I so enjoyed those dahlias this summer and fall, and by golly, if they didn't reproduce big time!  Hurray!  I foresee a bigger bed of dahlias in the future.

I also planted a row of irises that a gal from church gave me.  I just wish I had a few clearance daffodil bulbs to plant.  I love planting bulbs in the fall.  Actually, it's the anticipation of seeing how they will turn out in the spring that I love most.
We finished off the daylight hours with a walk down in the pasture to check on the cattle, and the donkeys came to us seeking a scratch behind the ears.

Welp, I'd better get busy on another tree!

These donkeys are so lovable. I love how the cow is peeking around, and of course,  I love the feller in the photo too, and our evening walks together.  The old farm is so familiar, yet there's always something interesting to discover.  I can't think of anyone I'd rather explore it with. 

Day 23 of NaBloPoMo: Swapping out the seasonals

I started my day with pecan pie; I'm ending it with pecan pie.  Don't judge, okay? It's a holiday weekend.

And in between, I've been busy as a bird-dog taking down all my fall decorations and boxing those up, then dragging out box after box of Christmas decorations.  

Fortunately, it was nice out, and I didn't even need a jacket much of the day as I worked on the porches. 

I still have a lot to do...but at least I have the appropriate trees in the appropriate rooms.  I'll get them out of their boxes tomorrow or Sunday.  I plan to decorate three-my living room tree, my Victorian tree in the  bedroom, and my nature tree. 

I think this is the earliest I've ever begun my Christmas decorating, but if I don't do it this weekend, I don't know when it will get done.  There's going to be a lot of Christmas events to cover for the paper in upcoming weeks, not to mention all the shopping and other festivities going on. 

Besides, it's not worth the trouble to drag this stuff out to leave it up for only a couple of weeks.  Typically, I un-decorate about the second week of January.  I tell myself I'm observing "old Christmas," but maybe I just procrastinate. 

Sorting through Christmas decorations is definitely a trip down memory lane.  So many ornaments have stories attached; many of my decorations remind me of "stages" of our children's lives. 

I found some old cards we'd received years ago, and I tossed several of them.  That's a hard thing for me to do!  

But there were a few from relatives who've passed on that I could not bring myself to throw away.  

One card contained a note from my uncle Edd.  (I always spelled his name Ed, but he'd signed it Edd.  I guess I did it wrong all those years.) 

The note said someone once told him that the way to a person's heart is through their stomach, and he hoped we enjoyed the treats he had prepared.  

Uncle Edd liked to bake loaves of bread or make peach or pear preserves and give them to us at Christmastime. 

He sometimes gave us tins of hard candy, which we didn't really like, but I'd pass it on to a relative on "the other side of the house" so it wouldn't go to waste.  

Uncle Edd made decorative boxes for us from old Christmas cards one year.  He was a tinkerer, and he'd work so patiently with his gnarled hands, twisted by arthritis. 

I miss him very much; there will never be another like him.  He was a survivor of childhood polio, but it left him with a withered leg that was shorter than the other.  

Afterward, he always walked with a limp, a bad one, but that didn't stop him from working hard.  He could do just about anything, and I always admired him for his strength of will.  Some might have called it stubbornness.  

Uncle Edd joined us at my parents'  house on Christmas Day for many years after his wife died. He lived to be 85 years old. 

So yeah, these are the kinds of side trips my mind takes when I decorate for Christmas each year.  And this is but one of many reasons I have trouble throwing things away.  

I made this centerpiece with fresh greenery a couple of years ago...I  hope to make one for this year.  I love fresh greenery in the house, or in my window boxes, or stuck in decorative containers on the porch!  

Day 22 of NaBloPoMo: Feasting and family

Today was beautiful from its frosty beginning until its moonlit end.

















I'll try to spare y'all another sappy post about how thankful I am. I'm too full and lazy to wax eloquent tonight anyway.


Is it any wonder after turkey, ham, rolls, mashed potatoes and gravy, dressing, green bean casserole, shuck beans, greens, salad (no romaine!) sweet potato casserole...

Pecan pie, chocolate lasagna, pumpkin chocolate chip cookies....

Man.  It's obscene to eat so much, but I sampled all this and more.



However, the star of today's show was the newest addition to our family, little Miss Ivy.

What fun to watch everyone ooh and ahhh over her.  She slept through being passed around and taken outside for a quick little photo shoot.


Grandma and grandpa's house just keeps getting fuller every year!  

Day 21 of NaBloPoMo: Thanksgiving Plans and Preparations

Today's prompt: What are your plans for Thanksgiving and how are you preparing? 

My plans for Thanksgiving are pretty much the same as they've been about all my life: go to Mom and Dad's on Thanksgiving Day for a mid-day meal, then go to my husband's mom and dad's on the Sunday after Thanksgiving for another big meal. 

We are very fortunate to still have both sets of parents.  Both our moms had some pretty major health scares this year, so to still have them with us is one more reason to be grateful.

For tomorrow's dinner, I plan to make a big salad and a pan of cornbread dressing.  Mom bakes the turkey and makes giblet gravy, and the rest of us bring a couple of sides and a dessert or two.  I have four siblings, so our table and every other available surface in the kitchen is typically loaded with food.  

I volunteered to bake the turkey and make dressing for the Sunday dinner, so there's a large turkey thawing in the fridge for that event.  

I had the day off today, or so I thought, until I received a text about a group of girl scouts cooking a big Thanksgiving meal to take to 50 shut-ins.  Would I like to come take some pictures for the paper? 

How could I refuse a request like that? 

The extension office kitchen was busy as a bee-hive as a couple of adults and about a dozen girls of varying ages iced cakes, stirred mashed potatoes, and finished all the last minute preparations before dishing out the food into delivery trays. Heartwarming, indeed. 

After I left there, I grabbed a few more salad items I needed at the grocery and made a couple of other stops, then I headed back home. 

One little errand required me to drive this road, aptly named Jake's Heavenly Highway. My parents and our daughter, plus all three brothers, live on this road. I'm glad this is the extent of my travels.  I saw the news tonight showing the crowded interstates and airports.  Yes, I'm glad to not be traveling far from home. 

Back at the house, I took a nice walk across the farm with my hubby as we checked on the cattle.  

We worked up a good appetite; it's a good thing I had made a pot of soup last night.   I made hoe cakes and fried green tomatoes, and we pigged out.  

A neighbor had given us a pint of very local honey back in late summer--talk about something good!  

My fried cornbread smeared with Kerrygold butter and drizzled with golden delicious honey!  Yum!  You can't sit still while you eat it. 

I've been chopping vegetables for tomorrow's dressing and salad...basking in the afterglow of a golden late-November day...and feeling thankful for the simple things.  

That's about it, folks! I hope your heart gets as full tomorrow as your belly as you ponder your blessings.  

See the little sunbeam angel at the base of the trees?  

Day 20 of NaBloPoMo2018: I'm thankful for my daughters

Today's writing prompt says to write about something I am thankful for.

There is so much for which to be thankful, and I could probably write lengthy essays about many of my blessings.

But since I enjoyed visits with both my daughters today, and they are fresh on my mind, I am reminded of how thankful I am for both of them.

I took lunch to our youngest daughter, who has a newborn-a very hungry newborn-who demands so much of Mommy's attention that Mommy neglects to feed herself sometimes.

It's a good thing she's got ol' mom to take her a bite on occasion.  😇

That's the thing about being a mom.  You just never stop being one. From the time you give birth to your babies, they capture your heart with a deep, primal love that is sometimes shocking with the force of it.

There's a reason we get labeled "mama bears." We will take care of our cubs!

I watch my baby girl cradling her baby girl with such tenderness, and I see how ferocious her love is for her.  It's a beautiful thing.

And it's a bittersweet thing, because at my ripe old age, I now realize parenting is filled with seasons of letting go.

There's plenty of time to enjoy, you just have to embrace the seasons and savor them.

Later in the day, I had a little visit with our oldest daughter.  We discussed some big decisions she's making in the near future, and we marveled together at how quickly her kids are growing up.  She's learning too that they don't always need us like they did when they were newborns.

Part of parenting is weaning ourselves from our children, just as they were weaned from us as babies.  That "weaning" carries so many emotions with it.  Joy, pride, excitement, and at times, grief for the sense of loss that comes with it.

I'm a grandmother now, and I'm still a bit surprised to find myself in this stage of my life already.

I've been a mom with newborns, a mom with toddlers, a mom with preschoolers, middle schoolers, high schoolers, college students...then, I've been an empty nester.

I've been the mom to gain "children" (in the form of my daughters' friends and significant others), and now I have three grandchildren.

I feel like quite the veteran mom, because I've lived through all these stages.  Now I get to observe my daughters experience them with their kids.

It's an interesting place to be.

The joy of it is, after the dust settled, I've realized that not only have I raised daughters, but I've gained lifelong friends.

For that, I thank the good Lord with all my heart.

Daughters (and sons) are the gift that keeps on giving! 😊

Day 19 of NaBloPoMo 2018: My tip for getting through the holidays

My writing prompt for today is to share a tip that helps me get through the holidays.

Geesh, that's kind of tough.

Let's see...I make lots of lists.

I'm a terrible list maker because my lists are incredibly messy and would drive a neat list-maker crazy.

But, messy as they are, almost illegible, they still help me stay on track.  Actually, what they help me to do is remember stuff.

Stuff like, who I'm to buy for....who I'm to send cards to...what I'm to prepare or buy for all the holiday meals we'll be eating.

Then, of course, there's the time I spend looking for my lists. Maybe I'd be better off without them. Just winging it.

Nahh...

My lists are seldom are in one notebook.

I've got a notebook for Christmas lists, a planner for work and life in general, another notebook for planning and brainstorming, then there's my journal.

It's too bad they can't be consolidated, but that would be way too much notebook.

One last tip: Don't forget to allow plenty of time for thawing the turkey! 😁

Day 18 of NaBloPoMo: Sunday strolls and other reflections

I can't think of a better way to unwind than walking country roads.  There's always something to see, and when your company is great, that makes it even better. 



It's been a relaxing weekend pretty much all weekend long.  The hubs and I went out to eat last night, and we bought some things to fill shoeboxes for Operation Christmas Child.

I'm not much of a shopper, and I was feeling a bit "blah" about the things I bought to put in the box.

As I picked up a doll, some crayons, a couple of toothbrushes, a yo-yo, etc., some voice in the back of my mind was saying, "Now who is really gonna want that cheap junk?"

Yeah, my inner Grinch flared up.

But we got the boxes filled and took them to church this morning where they will be transported to one of the local distribution hubs, and eventually, the boxes will be dispersed to many places in the world.

At church some photos were shared of some smiling children who had just received their shoe boxes.  One of the men in one of the photos was wearing a pair of flip flops made from an old tire.  These particular recipients live in a village where there are no roads.  To put it mildly, it is pretty remote and the people are very poor.

That gave me a shot of reality, as I better imagined how the items that seemed pretty unexciting to me as I purchased them might be greatly appreciated by someone else.

And it was a needed reminder of how we take things for granted.  I thought we were back-woodsy when we were growing up, but our roads were paved when I was a kid.

And I can remember how receiving little trinkets was quite a thrill to me.

Our feeble efforts to do something good for someone in need might make more of a difference than we know.

Day 17 of NaBloPoMo 2018:

This is kind of random, but as we took an evening walk, we came across this:

I loved the look of the silver maple leaf lying on the ground beside the rich brown of a sycamore leaf.

Silver maples have the prettiest foil colored eaves in the spring, then when they fall, one side is a pretty papery white.  Flip it over, though, and the other side is just a dull gray green color.  Maybe that doesn't impress you, but I think it's cool!

We have a little grove of silver maples at the corner of the farm...I say, "We have," like it's something we are responsible for.

But, like so much in nature, the trees are simply there. For our enjoyment, if we pay attention.

It's possible they were planted there by one of my ancestors, because a house once stood near where the silver maples are.

There used to be a silver maple right behind our house.  They are known for having weak trunks, and ours had a split trunk with one half leaning far to the side. Our cats loved to climb on it.  I have a picture of one of my favorite cats in that tree.

Eventually, we determined that the tree was threatening the end of the house, so it was cut down and sawn up.

I've missed it, and the cat, and that was decades ago. The demise of the cat is another story, but I won't go there. 😔

I'm thinking we should dig up a silver maple sprout and try one in the yard again...add that to the wish list for the farm.

Day 16 of NaBloPoMo18

This is going to be short and sweet, because I can't hold my eyes open. I'm that sleepy!

I'll call it "photo Friday."

Or Flashback Friday, when everything was still so green.

I marvel at how different the landscape can look in a matter of a few short weeks.

But I'm so glad I live where the seasons are varied.

Day 15 of NaBloPoMo: Not too messy outside to go honor a farmer

When seasons collide...

I think it is nothing short of amazing how the weather affects my -our- energy level and mood.
Apparently the same can be said for a lot of folks.

I don't mind cold weather so bad if the sun shines on occasion!

But this messy, muddy, drizzly weather makes me want to hibernate in the house, bake sweet treats, and indulge myself with mindless eating.

However, duty called this evening, and I ventured out in a snow shower with my husband to cover the annual Kiwanis Heritage Farm-City Banquet.

This is an event I always enjoy.  Each year, a couple of farmers and a business owner are recognized for their work.

One of this year's honored farmers just happens to be a lifelong family friend, and he's our country neighbor.

This man is one of a kind, yet part of a dying breed. For nearly all of his life, he has raised cattle or grown tobacco and other livestock and crops, in addition to holding down a full-time "public" job from which he retired after many years of service.

He and a few of the other older farmers around here drive past our place on a daily basis, checking on their cattle that are in various locations but also keeping an eye on neighboring farms.

They watch for unfamiliar vehicles, because there have been a few burglaries in the area over the years, and they scan the pastures for any signs of trouble among the livestock, whether it be a cow having a difficult birth or one that appears to be "down" or ailing.

Thank goodness, they are usually quick to notice if one of our cows is out on or near the road.

If so, they either stop by and warn us, or try to locate us by phone as quickly as they can. They'll even linger around to help put the unruly beasts back in the pasture where they belong.

I can remember when we all raised tobacco, and we'd be working to "house" it (haul the drying cut stalks of tobacco to the barn to hang to dry some more.) If rain or an early frost threatened, you can bet the neighbors were quick to pitch in and help each other get the job done.  A sense of camaraderie developed as we would race to beat the weather, and there was usually lots of laughing and kidding around.

That's one of the many reasons I grew to love farm life, because of the strong sense of community that resulted from us relying on one another.  Sadly, I see it dwindling as an older generation of farmers is fading away, and most of the younger wanna-be farmers are forced to work off the farm to make ends meet and keep health insurance.

There just aren't that many stepping up to replace the older farmers.  My husband and I are among those trying, but we are already in our fifties.  I'm not seeing many 20-somethings and 30-somethings getting into farming in this area.  (The second farmer recognized tonight was only 38, so there are exceptions.)

It's no wonder the younger generation doesn't want to take the risk of farming considering the prices cattle are bringing right now.

The speaker for the banquet was a man who runs a local stockyard. That's where cattle farmers take their animals to sell them. He said recently he'd seen some cattle bring as low as 6 to 50 cents a pound.
A 1, 000 pound cow, at six cents a pound, would bring $60.  That's hardly worth hauling to market.

Yet hamburger remains at 3 to 4 dollars a pound in the grocery, and as most know, hamburger is one of the cheapest beef products.

Looks like someone besides the farmer is making more than their fair share of the money.  That just ticks me off! It's not right.

There has to be a better way.  In larger cities especially, direct marketing of processed beef helps the farmer make a larger profit.  In rural areas like ours, finding the customer base is a challenge.

BUT, if you find yourself with opportunity to buy meat or produce directly from a local farmer, please do.  You might help preserve a dying breed.

I'll get off my soapbox now.

Day 14 of NaBloPoMo2018: A photo that means a lot to me

My brothers, sister and I...before our last little brother came along.  

Today's prompt is to post a picture that means a lot to me.

I love this photo because:
1) I think we look cute. Look at those snaggle-toothed smiles!
2) We look so happy...we were happy! Our early years were humble yet carefree.
3) I'm thankful that we've always been close...little brother too. Close in relationship, close in distance.  We all still live in the same county, and we still regularly get together for family Sunday dinners. And we get along!
4) This photo reminds me of our childhood Christmases.  We'd get so excited about Christmas, although our presents weren't expensive, and our tree wasn't lavishly decorated.
5) It's a reminder to me that the anticipation of Christmas is just as important as having every wish granted.  If fact, I think kids enjoy gifts more when they don't get everything they want.  There's a lot to be said for delayed gratification.

Day 13 of NaBloPoMo: A song that changed my life

I was brought up in a Christian home, for which I will always be grateful.

But in so doing, I picked up some baggage as well as some blessing.

No one intentionally saddled me with condemnation, I'm sure, but I was a very sensitive kid and took everything to heart. Threats of hell for wrongdoing, or even making a mistake, fanned my vivid imagination, and I was sure I'd "never make it."

The Bible says the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, and I learned to fear God at an early age, alright.

But I figured out eventually that most people don't fear God like I did, else they wouldn't behave the way they do! :)

Over time, I've come to realize that fearing God is respecting him.  A healthy respect, with the realization that I'm a child of God and he cares for me, but ultimately I will answer to him.

For years, my fear of God was not healthy. I was terrified I'd do something to tick off the Almighty, and he'd shove me down the chute to eternal damnation.

Most words I heard from preachers did nothing to assuage my fears. So, I turned to the Bible for myself to see if I could find answers there.

Now the Bible can raise more questions than it answers.  But in Jesus, I saw what sacrificial love is.  And I saw how he loved the unlovable, and how he did not condemn the sinner so much as those who reeked of self-righteousness.

I also learned that faith is about ceasing the struggle and resting.  It's letting go and knowing I don't have all the answers, never will, and neither will anyone else, because we all are imperfect and we all have different perspectives.

In my walk with God, I have found much comfort and peace in meditating on the Psalms, which were songs originally, or prayers, or prayerful songs.

Songs, psalms, poems, they tend to stick in our head because of their rhythms and rhymes.

Hopefully, some of them have permanently stuck in mine.

I marvel at the faith of Fanny Crosby who was blind, yet penned such songs as Blessed Assurance.

"Perfect submission, all is at rest,
I in my Savior am happy and blest;
Watching and waiting, looking above,
Filled with His goodness, lost in His love."

She also wrote I am Thine, O Lord.

One of my favorite verses in that hymn says,

"O the pure delight of a single hour
That before Thy throne I spend,
When I kneel in pray'r, and with Thee, my God,
I commune as friend with friend. "

Maybe the language seems archaic in this modern world, but I think it's beautiful.

It took years of studying the Bible and meditating on hymns such as these to free me of my fears and replace them with faith.

Maybe I should say my faith now outweighs my fears, at least some of the time.

I'd be lying if I said I have it all figured out, or that I don't have periods of doubt. [And liars go to the bad place, so I'mma gonna tell you the truth!;)]

Possibly the ultimate in reassuring hymns is one that was almost always sung at Billy Graham crusades.

In the words of Just as I Am, I recognized that the writer of the song had experienced some of the same struggles as I.  To me, every word of this old hymn is gold.

And, yes, I can safely say that it and others like it have changed my life...have taught me what it means to cease my struggles to be good enough and to simply rest in my Savior.

Sometimes I am afraid, but fear no longer rules my life.

Amen. 

Day 12 of NaBloPoMo: Letter to my 15 year old self

Our writing prompt for the day is: Write a letter to your 15 year old self.

Dear 15 year old self, from your early autumn stage of life self.  

It's easy for your older and wiser self to see how you should have done things differently, but I'll try to be gentle with you, younger self. You were just that-young.

First and foremost, though, I'd tell you to stop worrying about what people think.

Do you, and be proud of her!  What do your peers know?  They are 15 (mostly young and stupid) too.

Quit obsessing about your physical faults.  When you are 40, 50, or even older, you'll wish for those imperfections back.

Put much, much more effort into developing yourself as a human being, developing your God-given gifts and abilities, than worrying about what the boy across the room in math class, or the girl, or even the teacher, thinks of you. They could be wrong.

You could be wrong in your imaginings of what those people think of you. You probably are.

Believe in yourself.  You can be more than you ever dreamed, but it starts with just that...dreaming.

Take more risks.  Try more things.  Go more places.  Don't stay home because you are having a bad hair day or a pimple uprising, or your jeans feel too tight.  Don't let the little things hold you back!

Time flies, and it's just wrong to waste it worrying about petty stuff.

You want to be a writer some day.  Don't discredit your deepest dreams.  God gave those to you for a reason, to guide you into becoming who you really are. One of these days, you might even get paid to do it.

I commend you for being kind most of the time and not dismissing the marginalized as sub-human.  

It's not really surprising, because if you heard it once you heard it a dozen times from your parents.  "How would you feel if...?"

Sure, you think they are old fashioned, but some of the wisest words you'll ever hear are, "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you."

This crazy world needs to relearn that concept.

My advice to you, 15 year old self, is to just hang in there.  High school is tough, but it ends and you'll move on.  One of these days, you won't even remember the names of some of the people you wanted to impress.

Finally, I would advise you to remind yourself frequently to "Suck it up, Buttercup," through all the difficult stages of your life.  I'm not saying that your struggles aren't important, but you need to realize that your struggles are not at all unique.

Everyone has them.  And sometimes helping someone else is the best way to help yourself.

One last thing...don't be long-winded.  Future generations have short attention spans because of something you can barely imagine...smartphones, social media and scrolling the internet.

Be thankful you aren't a teen now!

Toot-a-loo!

Love,

The Ever-evolving Version of You

Day 11 of NaBloPoMo: My weekend, reason to thank a veteran

Jack Frost visited us Saturday night!  The fields were so white it looked like snow...a very peaceful scene. 


It's been a weekend filled with many of my favorite things.

Time with all three of the grand babies...time on the farm...time in the kitchen, even a little time in the big city.

Time...a gift, and my heart is filled with gratitude.

Gratitude to God, giver of all good gifts, and gratitude to our veterans.

Without them, our lives might not be so peaceful.  Most of us take that for granted.

Thanks to all who have served. 

Day 10 of NaBloPoMo: First hard freeze

Some green tomatoes to fry, a few bell peppers and possibly the last of the ripe tomatoes- I saved them from freezing tonight. 

Tonight we will have the first hard freeze of the season.
We've had a few frosts, but my roses kept blooming and so did the dahlias.

The dahlias were planted next to the barn, so I'm thinking they were a bit sheltered.  Knock-out roses are simply very hardy.

But I don't think any of it will escape tonight, with temperatures forecasted to be down in the low 20's.  Heck, it's already 26.

So, I spent some of the afternoon picking through our high tunnel, looking for any produce I could rescue from the freeze.

I found ripe tomatoes, green tomatoes, and bell peppers!
I'm pretty happy to still have homegrown salad ingredients this late in the year.

Some of those green tomatoes will ripen. Some I'll fry...maybe make a fried green tomato BLT.

And the smallest ones will be good to chop and toss into a stir fry.

I carried a few pumpkins to the smokehouse, where they'll probably be alright for a few more days.  But I soon need to split those open, save the seeds, and roast or cook the pumpkin for using later in pies or something.  

I make a pumpkin casserole sometimes that is like pumpkin pie without the crust.  And it's just as good with coffee. While searching for the recipe, one I found online, I came across this variation from Just a Pinch recipe club.

Sounds good to me, with or without the topping!


Crunchy Topped Pumpkin Casserole

2 c cooked pumpkin or 16 ounces canned pumpkin

1/3 c milk

3 Tbsp melted butter

2 large eggs, beaten

1 tsp vanilla extract

1/2 c granulated sugar

2 Tbsp all-purpose flour

1/2 tsp ground cinnamon

1/8 tsp ground cloves

1/8 tsp ground nutmeg

1/2 c vanilla wafer crumbs

1/4 c packed brown sugar

2 Tbsp melted butter

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

2. Place pumpkin in a buttered 2-quart casserole dish.

3. Stir in milk, melted butter, eggs and vanilla.

4. Combine the sugar, flour, cinnamon, cloves and nutmeg in a small bowl. Stir into pumpkin mixture.

5. Bake at 350 degrees F. for 30 minutes, or until almost set.

6. In a small bowl, combine vanilla wafer crumbs, brown sugar and melted butter.

7. Remove casserole from oven. Sprinkle with crumb mixture.

8. Return to oven. Continue cooking for 15 minutes.

9. Remove from oven. Serve immediately or refrigerate.

Day 9 of NaBloPoMo: What is your favorite Saturday morning breakfast?

I love a big country breakfast of biscuits and gravy, sausage or bacon and eggs, especially when served with homegrown vine-ripened tomatoes. 

I got to choose the prompt for today and wouldn't you know?  I chose to write about food.

My question was, "What is your favorite Saturday morning breakfast and what memories do you associate with it?"

Saturday morning breakfasts have always been special to me because that's when everyone is home and there is more reason to cook.  When our kids were growing up, sometimes it was just the four of us for breakfast, but often they had a sleepover pal or two sitting at the table.  I don't think I ever saw one of them turn down biscuits and gravy.

Now that we are empty-nesters, it's usually just me and the hubs, but we still love our biscuits and gravy on occasion.  Most every other day of the week we are too pressed for time to eat a meal like that.  It's probably a good thing, or else we wouldn't be able to fit through the door.

The generations before us ate like that nearly every day though, and they didn't get fat...not usually.

Our lives don't require as much manual labor as their's did back in the day when our grandmothers prepared big homemade breakfasts.

Appalachian families were typically large, with anywhere up to ten children being common (sometimes more).  Laundry was done on a washboard or in a wringer washer, and water had to be hauled from the creek or pulled from a well to do that.  That's just one example of the more labor intensive way of doing things.

Most of the food our grandmother's prepared-fresh meat and fresh produce-was raised on the farm, and that required a lot of hard work.

Cooks had to buy flour, though, and it was often sold in 50 pound sacks. Those emptied sacks were later sewn into aprons for the cooks or dresses for the little girls.

But I'm getting sidetracked.

I like biscuits and gravy any season of the year, but I don't fix that as often in summer because I hate to heat the house with the oven.

Now that it's cold, though, the extra heat just adds to the coziness.

Sometimes I use canned biscuits, but if I do, I use the small buttermilk kind-no buttery layers or anything fancy like that-my hubby won't have it.  Just plain old biscuits.

I love homemade biscuits, and I make them when I have plenty of time.

They are simple to make...I use about two cups of self-rising flour, a half stick of butter and probably 1/2 to 3/4 cups of milk.  Sometimes instead of butter I use a big spoonful of the lard that we rendered from our hog-butchering.  Either way, homemade biscuits are so good "you can't sit still and eat 'em."

For the gravy, I brown some flour in the drippings from the sausage or bacon, then I add milk and stir until the gravy is nice and thick.

I usually either fry some eggs or make scrambled eggs.  I prefer mine scrambled and smothered in gravy (well-peppered).

But to me, the slices of fresh tomato is what really sets this breakfast apart. Alas, that's a summertime specialty.

If there are biscuits left at the end of the meal, and I still have room in my tummy (I always have room in my tummy!), I'll smear some butter and homemade strawberry or blackberry jam on one, or I will drizzle some local honey on a buttered biscuit.  That's what I consider dessert.

This meal is iconic for our area, and I've been eating it all my life.  And yes, I realize that biscuits and gravy aren't supposed to be heart healthy, but some of my relatives who grew up eating the stuff (and still do) have lived (are living) to ripe old ages.

Again, I wonder if it isn't the meal but our less active lifestyles that harm our arteries. Maybe a combination of both.

I'm not worrying about it right now! Pass the biscuits and gravy!  ;)

Day 8 of NaBloPoMo: What superpower would I wish for?

That's the prompt for day 8.

Maybe I'd like to be able to fly like a drone...just rise above the earth and hover overhead, observing and taking pictures.  Crossing creeks, rivers and mountains would then be a breeze.

Or, maybe I'd like to be able to read people like a book.  See through them so I can tell if they are really telling me the truth.

In the newspaper business you hear a lot of stories, many of them presented as fact.

It's often a challenge to separate fact from fiction, and sometimes I'm left scratching my head over who to believe. You hear one side of the story, then another, then another....pretty soon it is hard to believe anyone.  That's where a truthometer would come in handy. Or the power to slap a pinocchio-style nose on people to measure just how truthful they are.

Here's an idea: What if I had the power to flip a switch and turn on brilliant powers of concentration and creativity...to think with ultra-clarity and originality.

Now that's a superpower I could go for, especially on days when my well runneth dry.

Like today, obviously.  :)

I'd churn out Pulitzer prize winners at will if I could pull a switch and turn on the light bulb in my head! ;) 

Day 7 of NaBloPoMo2018: The Perfect Day

Excuse me, but I'm using yesterday's writing prompt for today.  It was "describe the perfect day."

A perfect day to me- although I'm too much of a realist to actually believe there is such a thing as an absolutely perfect day, but maybe a near perfect day- is balanced.

It includes a just-right portion of rest and relaxation juxtaposed against something productive to do.

It also includes a perfect balance of time alone and time in good company.

I can't do social all the time.  I'm not anti-social, I just need time alone with my thoughts to recharge my batteries.

I also can't do alone all the time.  I think nobody needs to do alone all the time-it's unhealthy.  Our aches and pains grow more noticeable, our fears and hangups will swallow us if we isolate ourselves. We need face to face time with people!  And social media won't cut it.

Weather plays a big part in my perfect day.

It could be bright, sunny, and 70, or there might be a slow steady rain falling all day.

It could feature a winter wonderland or a blazing hot day on the beach or by the pool.

Or it could be a cloudy day with a soft breeze and leaves falling...an Indian summer type day.

I'm glad I live where there are four distinct seasons.

The thing is, I just want to be able to spend a least part of my day outside enjoying the weather, unless it's just horrendous.

Besides "me time" to read, relax, think, write, pray; time with family and/or friends, and time in the great outdoors, the perfect day involves something good to eat.

That usually correlates with the weather.

Cold watermelon on a hot day, hot chili on a cold day, homemade pumpkin snickerdoodles on a fall day- the process of preparing these items, then the process of eating and enjoying them...they all contribute to a near perfect day.

Spice such a day with a bit of encouragement extended or received and a little surprise of some sort. (They are everywhere, you just have to pay attention. Just look for the unexpected, the different angle).

My recipe for a perfect cup of hot tea.  Red chai sweetened with pure maple syrup and topped off with a splash of almond milk or cream.  

End your darned near perfect day with a hot cuppa or a cold glass of tea.  Drink it on the front porch and watch the sun slip out of sight.  Or curl up with your coziest blanket in your comfiest chair and read your favorite newspaper or magazine, maybe watch something interesting on television.

Near perfect days remind me of a perfect plate which might include a little meat, a little savory, a little sweet, a little sour, a bit of spice, some creamy and some crunch.  Maybe that's a whole lotta perfect plates!

Anyway, the key is balance.  And I'm always working on that, it seems.

Gotta run!  I hear my tea kettle whistling for me.  ;)

Day 6 of NaBloPoMo: The Election

So this is gonna be brief.

I'm still at work having just sent the final two pages of the paper, and I haven't eaten. That makes me hangry when it's almost midnight.

The large voter turnout and a local power outage or two resulted in some polls closing late.

I won some of the votes I cast, and I  lost some.

But I'm thankful that all is quiet in the streets. No rioting or anything as far as I can tell.

As flawed as our nation is, I'm thankful we still have relatively peaceful elections.

Now, it's time to regroup and press on, people. Let's try to work together.

Day 5 of NaBloPoMo 2018: My earliest memories

Today's writing prompt is: What is your earliest memory?

Gosh, I don't remember.

Nah, seriously, that's a hard one for me.  I don't remember much about the first five or so years of my life.

But I do recall seeing two of my younger siblings going to the creek one bright and sunny day when I knew they weren't supposed to go there, no matter what kind of day it was.

I watched them until they got close to the bank,  as I stood on the back porch beside Mom while she was running clothes through a wringer washer, in true Appalachian style.

I tattled on them, and Mom made haste to run after them and chase them back up the hill to the house.

I felt very mature and quite smug, I'm sure, for saving my siblings from near death by drowning.  I was four or five, I think.

I can picture the bend of that creek, the way a lovely old white-trunked sycamore curved out over it, and how it leaned enough that you could sit at the base of it to fish or to lower yourself into the water.  That's where my siblings were standing that day I saved their life.  :)

I still miss that old tree, gone now for decades.

I can see my Uncle Clyde nestled in that same bend of the creek with a can of worms and a fishing pole.  He'd study that hole of water like a devout fundamentalist searches the Scriptures daily,  always pointing out to us kids "turkles,"gar, snakes, and hellbenders (we called them water dogs).

He'd catch stringers of little bluegill and sunfish for Aunt Myrl to fry up "good and brown."

That's how she always liked them.  Good and brown.  That's how I like them too.

I remember how Uncle Clyde looked as he walked from his house to ours, trudging along over the hill in his denim overalls that Aunt Myrl always had to hem, because he was only about 5'2".

If it was hot, he'd take off his cap and fan his red face, then he'd pull a bandana out of his hip pocket and wipe the sweat.  He usually had a big chew of tobacco in his jaw, and he'd turn his head and spurt it to the side.

Gosh, I miss him.  I've done gone and made myself sad.

All the years I knew Uncle Clyde, he lived up in the holler in a modest little house, until that house burned to the ground and they were forced to move.  They moved to a nearby holler into another modest little house.  That move was only a mile or so away, but it liked to've killed him.  They never did truly get over the loss of their home, but if you've ever been to that scenic little holler, you'll understand why.

Uncle Clyde was a veteran of the Army, and he'd traveled the world before I was born.  He developed rheumatic fever and was discharged from service, and he spent the rest of his life close to home, where he'd grown up.  He never did have a vehicle.  I don't know if he ever learned how to drive.

He always said if he ever revisited any of the places he'd been with the Army, it would be New Zealand.

We saw him almost daily during my growing up years, and my siblings and I loved him dearly, even though he could be a bit gruff and would sometimes scold us for messing with things around the house and garden.

Isn't it crazy how when you really delve into memory, so much can surface?

  

This is Station Camp Creek, just a short distance from the little house where I spent the first nine years of my life. So many of my earliest memories are associated with this beautiful creek. While these trees are lovely, they don't compare with the much larger and more elegant sycamore that curved over the water in one of our favorite fishing holes.  

Day 4 of NaBloPoMo:The bare bones beauty of fall.

Well, here we go....dark by 6, and I've been ready to hibernate since the last light of day faded.

I had to force myself to get some things done before I allowed myself to plop on the couch.

Still, in the dark of winter I often procrastinate about  going to bed. Last night it was nearly 1:30 before I turned in!

I kept thinking, the clocks are not set back yet... it's really only 10:30,...it's really just 11.30...

So much for getting an extra hour of sleep!

It's been a relaxing Sunday, though, with church and family time, and a pretty day.  I took a nice long walk through the countryside with my sister, and wouldn't you know, we both forgot our cameras?

There is still quite a bit of color left in the hills, but I predict there won't be many leaves left by next weekend!

I like the way bare tree branches look against the sky.  Every season has its own style of beauty.  

I'll call this the "bare bones" look.