"You only have what you give..."
Monday, 28 December 2009
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The Fire in the Field
The sun has set in a brilliant, bloody and fiery mess at the field in the back of the house. The light that bounces off the wall from the window is convincing enough-every time-to make me pull the lace away from the glass and check.
Just in case.
But there is no fire in the field; just cold and dark. My spirits are about as short as the day and I struggle with finding anything lovely-anything to treasure- in the long shadows that suck the light and life from the sun so quickly. In my effort-no, my defiance-to fight the them, I retreat to my kitchen where I have made everything as bright, warm and sweet as possible.
It beckons.
The dogs will meandered in and settle themselves comfortably between the stove and the table. This ensures that if I drop anything, it will never hit the floor. It also ensures I will eventually trip over them and drop something anyway. It is a system they have worked out. First Sammy closest to the stove, then Lily slides in from under the table and Sammy moves back. No small feat for a Great Pyrenees, but they do this effortlessly. Since Otis has passed away, they have worked this out for themselves. The tag team of canine kitchen maneuvers.
Nothing goes to waste.
For me, the annual migration to the kitchen has been taking place steadily and subtly for a few weeks now. First an extra leaf appears in the table. The laptop makes an appearance more often. An embroidery hoop is set down on the table from time to time as kitchen duty calls, till finally the patterns, threads and hoops have all taken residence. Fabric shows up, settles in and calls the rest of the family-the ancient Singer, my grandmother's pinking shears and threads of every colour-to stay for the winter.
And they do.
The three-legged cat-'the mean-ass cat'- the one that usually lives outdoors, has claimed a spot of superiority on top of the freezer. Not only does it offer the best hiding place; it is also the warmest spot. A huge advantage in this old and drafty house.
She too will stay for the winter.
And while no one will go near her, neither will anyone object. It won't be long before small bowls of milk and tidbits from a tuna cans will have found their way up there with her. No one will accept responsibility for any of them, but they will happen.
Cats are just that powerful.
Two-legged members of the family will come and go as well. The punks, bundled up in sweaters and sweatshirts, will crisscross each other in the paths between sink, stove and fridge. They will hover over me, checking on my sewing, my writing or any other project they are not likely to get roped into and doesy-doe with each other or the dogs for a path back out the door again. If you look carefully a kitten or a chick will be tucked into their hood or a pocket.
Such things happen in this kitchen.
Emily Barnes wrote that "Whatever your treasures are, they tell a story about you, about what you love or value or believe in, about what makes you laugh or cry."
I treasure this kitchen.
In the winter.
When there is fire in the field.
Don't ever let me tell you different.
Saturday, 26 December 2009
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Christmas Boot-y
For the punks, it was slipper booties.
Cowgirl style.
Punk 3:
And punk 4:
Since I already have a pair (my friend Amy started the trend), my sister gave me these:
Vintage handmade Sanders boots.
The bootmaker has 372 steps to go thru before a pair are completed. (Think about that next time you complain about the price.)
And yes, they have roping heels on them.
And no, I haven't roped anything (or anyone) since my 20's, but it's the principle of the thing.
After you take your first step in a pair of boots with roping heels, your life will change forever.
They are the ruby slippers of the country girl life.
They take you anywhere.
As the saying goes:
Walk loud.
Stand tall.
Step forward.
Currently
Cowboy Boots: Art and Sole
By Jennifer June
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Wednesday, 23 December 2009
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Guess What??
I got a GPS for Christmas!
(but don't tell anyone-it's a secret!)
Tuesday, 22 December 2009
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A Old Fashioned Christmas
'Twas the night before Christmas & out on the ranch
The pond was froze over & so was the branch.
The snow was piled up belly-deep to a mule.
The kids were all home on vacation from school,
And happier young folks you never did see-
Just all sprawled around a-watchin' TV.
Then suddenly, sometime around 8 o'clock,
There came a surprise that gave them a shock!
The power went off, the TV went dead!
When Grandpa came in from out in the shed
With an armload of wood, the house was all dark.
"Just what I expected," they heard him remark.
"Them power line wires must be down from the snow.
Seems sorter like times on the ranch long ago."
"I'll hunt up some candles," said Mom. "With their light,
And the fireplace, I reckon we'll make out all right."
The teen-agers all seemed enveloped in gloom.
Then Grandpa came back from a trip to his room,
Uncased his old fiddle & started to play
That old Christmas song about bells on a sleigh.
Mom started to sing, & 1st thing they knew
Both Pop & the kids were all singing it, too.
They sang Christmas carols, they sang "Holy Night,"
Their eyes all a-shine in the ruddy firelight.
They played some charades Mom recalled from her youth,
And Pop read a passage from God's Book of Truth.
They stayed up till midnight-and, would you believe,
The youngsters agreed 'twas a fine Christmas Eve.
Grandpa rose early, some time before dawn;
And when the kids wakened, the power was on.
"The power company sure got the line repaired quick,"
Said Grandpa - & no one suspected his trick.
Last night, for the sake of some old-fashioned fun,
He had pulled the main switch - the old Son-of-a-Gun!
-anonymous
Tuesday, 15 December 2009
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I Tied One On!
Many good things have come my way lately and recently I had yet another one-I won a give away!
I have never been so stunned in my life.
So much so, that when the email arrived telling me I won, I was completely suspicious and assumed it was a joke. Aside from bouncing it off a punk, I didn't tell anyone. I just didn't believe.
Then last week the boxes began to arrive.
I started jumping up and down and yelling, "I really won! I really did!"
The dogs barked and jumped up and down with me and the punks gathered round.
And boy, were they impressed.
This is stuff that is near and dear to my heart.
You see, I was entered into the National Tie One On Day event hosted by EllynAnne Geisel, the author of The Apron Book, the Kitchen Linens Book and Apronisms.
She has a wonderful website you can find here: http://www.apronmemories.com/
National Tie One On Day is held every year the day before Thanksgiving. The idea is make a gift of food, wrap it in a pretty piece of fabric, or tuck it into an apron pocket and deliver it someone who needs it. Whether they need it to cheer their spirits or feed their tummy, the only thing that matters is the grace it's given with.
For quite a few years I have taken food and other tokens of love to a couple of different retirement homes and villages. Before you think too much of me, please know I have received way more than I ever gave. Some of you that have been with me a while will even remember my adventures with Smitty and the Biddy Sisters of years past. Not to mention Mimi who is in a class all her own
.
So I have never really done this on Thanksgiving eve- it's always been a year round sort of thing. This year when when I was cruising EllynAnne's site, I spotted the button for Tie One On Day and signed up. Then I checked out the goodie bag...EllynAnne's books were in it! I had wanted those books when they first came out, and yet I never bought them. I would feel guilty buying myself something like that, but I had come so close so many times ...
and now, they're mine
.
Along with some other very cool stuff.
Check it out:
Sorry for the poor picture, but I was somewhat rushed. EllynAnne's books are there as well as the book Apron*ology. There are vintage apron patterns, vintage iron on transfers, a sewing hoop, floss, certificates to membership in two different sewing guilds, a vinatge style sewing envelope (by Aunt Martha's) and (not shown, but I will later, I promise!) two vintage style aprons also donated by Aunt Martha's.
That was just in the first box.
Here are scenes from the second:
Two quilting books.
A wonderful box of recipe cards from The Quilter's Desserts
Sewing magazines and booklets.
And this-isn't that just the cutest thing? Who would of ever thought to box quarters like that?
And finally ...a quilt kit-fabric and everything!
It is going to be so cute!
And I won it.
I just can't believe it.
And just so you know, that cute little sewing machine cover (and sewing machine) is not mine. I swiped borrowed it from my sister in law's sewing room (she'll never know) because it's just too stinkin cute not to use as a prop!
I am blessed.
Currently
The Apron Book: Making, Wearing, and Sharing a Bit of Cloth and Comfort
By EllynAnne Geisel
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Sunday, 06 December 2009
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For This Saint Nicholas Day ...
...may I present baby Nicholas
(and his lola mimi)
Shhhhh! He's napping. He's had a hard day
Houston, we have a grandbaby
Monday, 30 November 2009
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Santa Baby-Here's the List Tonight
Dear Santa,
It's me again-Kate.
Yes, I know I'm 50, but I've never missed a year yet and I don't want to start now. Besides, I have a hunch you'd miss me if suddenly stopped. I like to think you need me.
So anyway, Christmas is almost upon us and as you know, I have been a very good good fair, ok, naughty girl, but I still have wants and needs.
Does this sound familiar to you? Thought so.
I know there's a recession going on and would not be surprised to know if you had to lay off an elf or two yourself. I know how expensive and needy those little buggers can be. I heard they unionized too. Paid vacations in Berliz? Hawaii? Listen Santa, I'm no elf, but I am short. Maybe you could work me in? Seriously, I'm a big girl now and know there is no free ride, but I'm willing to pull my end of the sleigh so to speak.
See, the thing is, I've got this grandbaby coming.
This is not just any grandbaby, this is MY grandbaby. The grandbaby of all grandbabies. And he's a cute little punk too-even tho he's not here yet, I've seen pictures. So how can I put this Santa ...
I will work for toys.
I can't be plainer than that.
So should I get the job, this is what I want in pay:
1. A pony.
While my son in law has already bought the kid a lifetime membership to his dojo and already has the kid his first gi, the truth is Santa, we both know he's gonna be a cowboy. I don't know a kinder or gentler way to break it to them than having that pony on the porch Christmas day.
2. A fishing pole.
I'm taking the kid fishing and that's just that. One of those little Mickey Mouse themed ones will do just fine.
3. A big slobbery dog.
Every kid needs one.
4. Wide open spaces.
They're raising him in Houston for Pete's sake. Make sure West Texas is still vast and open and the canyons and caprock are still there for him to explore. Make sure the bluebonnets and paintbrushes still bloom and the dirtdevils whirl. I want him to chase down a roadrunner and freeze at the song of the rattlesnake. I want him to know the prick of a mesquite thorn and the creaking sound of saddle leather.
5. Horned toads.
Where are they? He needs to learn to catch one and put it to sleep by petting it's head. How to hold it so it doesn't hurt his hand and how to tie a string round it as a leash and keep it in a cigar box under his bed.
6. Flashlight.
We both know how important this is. He can read comic books after his mom turns out the light and check for monsters under the bed. A kid needs this.
7. Old ladies with lovely flower beds for neighbors.
They will be married to cranky old men with fascinating tools in the garage and they will spoil him shamelessly and let him pick his mother flowers from their yard and feed him cookies and tell wild stories of how things used to be.
8. A good rope.
For oh, so many things.
9. Rodeos & State Fairs.
If he's going to be in Houston, then long live the Houston Rodeo! Make sure he sees the livestock and the rodeo, not just the show.
10. Books.
Bring that boy books Santa. Make his Lola Mimi proud.
So that's it Santa. My list.
Even if you don't give me the job, I think there's still time to make up for the naughty list.
If we hurry.
Friday, 27 November 2009
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Soup du Jour
After the fuss that was yesterday, I have taken the day off.
From everything.
Really.
I have noticed all the dirty laundry and ignored it.
I have noticed the dirt on the window sills and dust bunnies under the couch and ignored them.
I have noticed the unmade bed, the clothes on the floor and the unplayed messages on the machine and ignored them.
What I have done today is make soup.
The kind where you start out in small pot thinking you'd just use the leftover roast beef and a few potatoes and call it good. Only of course, you don't; you add to it and it grows and grows.
As I would I wander thru the kitchen, I would toss things in randomly. Italian tomatoes. A bag of baby carrots. A good slosh of red wine. A little of this, a little of that. You know how it goes and finally, it grew so much I had to dig out the stock pot and pour it all in there and start over again.
More tomatoes. Noodles. Corn. What else do I have in the pantry? In the freezer? In the fridge?
A lot it turns out.
But not enough.
I put in a call to Mimi.
"It's too bland," I say.
"Oh, we can fix that" she replies.
And we do.
A bit more digging in the pantry and in the spice rack and we're set.
So now the dogs are under the table, the bread is in the oven and the soup is ready. I left the porch light on. I'll be waiting for you.
I have an extra bowl
Sunday, 22 November 2009
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Paid Time
In taking a cue from bookmark, I thought I would list a few things I have actually been paid to do. Most of these I had not thought of in years. Some of them for pretty good reason
1.) sitting on the counter of my grandfather's liquor store and singing bawdy ditties (I think I was about 2 or 3). This was apparently a great gig till my mother got wind of it or I sang one of the songs for Father Patrick, depending on who you ask.
2.) fetching whiskey from the back room or low shelves for patrons of above mentioned store. I was a little older then, but not much.
3.) cleaning shelves and counters-little fingers can reach into small corners.
4.) playing bartender at family get togethers.
5.) making beer runs from a dry county (it still never ceases to amaze me how many alcoholics dry counties produce).
6.) picking up stick and stones so the lawn could be mowed.
7.) mowing the lawn.
8.) mowing other people's lawns.
9.) clearing stones from fields.
10.) planting
11.) stripping cotton
12.) working cattle
13.) painting houses
14.) shoeing horses
15.) being a waitress at a pizza joint
16. ) being a lifeguard
17.) being a EMT/Paramedic
18.) being a cop
19.) being a nurses aide
20.) being the library goddess
21.) hotwiring a car
22.) teaching the kid's class at the dojo
23.) teaching pre-school and running a daycare
24.) taking care of the elderly
25.) writing. which out of everything, still totally amazes me.
Saturday, 21 November 2009
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Ungrateful Gratitude
There are lots of thanksgiving/gratitude lists going around on xanga and other virtual places and I thought I would add my two cents worth.
Of course, I have a different twist on things.
Instead of listing the top ten things I am grateful for, I am going to be painfully honest and list the top ten things I should be grateful for, but really just ...am not. I dare you to do the same.
1.) Walmart. Top of my list. Not just any Walmart, but the super Walmart. I have yet to be in there when enough registers were open, there was a helpful employee to be found (I learned to ask other customers that look like they shop there a lot) or I didn't witness theft by some of the stupidest people on the planet (shoving a tv under your shirt and telling the cashier you're pregnant really doesn't work. It's entertaining to the rest of us in line, but it doesn't work).
The truth is, despite their corporate evil ways, they probably saved my family many times over. They made it possible for us to have food when I didn't think we could, buy toys for Christmas for our kids when I didn't think we could and afford the drugs we needed when I didn't think we could. I bash them, their overcrowded parking lots, useless employees and annoying smiley commercials, when in truth I owe them. Big time.
2.) McDonalds. Worst food on the planet and most certainly where the term 'heart attack in a sack' came from. And yet, bless them, they gave my kids something to earn and something to look forward to, which in turn gave me a break. Next time you see a family in there, before you bash them for unhealthy eating habits, realize they are not really there for the food. It's family time. In it's own warped little way, they are bonding and making memories in the ball pit and play ground. Leave them alone.
3.) Motorcycle cops. Yes, I know they are there for safety reasons. However, they hide well, move fast and always travel in pairs. That's all I have to say about that.
4.) Government mafia, also known as TSA officials. Anyone who doesn't think the mafia isn't controlled by the government hasn't flown since 911. The ideal is good. The reality is uniformed hoodlums. This is an agency put in place to make the public feel safe, yet they terrorize, shake down, steal from and inconvenience the very public they are put there to protect. I'm trying to appreciate them, but I just don't.
5.) Automatic shut-off's on heating pads. After 15 minutes, my heating pad stalls out. If I wanted it to shut off after 15 minutes, I would personally turn it off. I realize people fall asleep with these and get burned, but I can honestly say I've never used a heating pad for just 15 minutes. Who came up with the 15 minute rule anyway? Thanks for saving me from myself.
6.) Bar tables. These are quite popular now, tho I have no idea why. These are tables that are set at 'bar height' and come up to about my chin. This means the chairs are quite tall and I have to make something of a spectacle of myself to get in one. Once there, I cannot scoot my chair up to the table because I don't have a prayer of reaching the floor with my feet. Someone must then come and scoot me up, making me feel like a toddler. The fact that whoever has to scoot me up can't resist making some snarky remark, doesn't help. I should be grateful for these tho, because once seated and properly positioned, I feel powerful and entitled.
7.) Weight Watcher Scales. There are times one needs to know who much one weighs, but I have yet to find a scale that doesn't like to mess with your head. How you can get up in the morning and weigh one thing, step on it two hours later and weigh 5 lbs more is beyond me. For fun one day I weighed myself every hour (it was raining outside and I was bored) and I never once weighed the same. It always went up too. No wonder women on diets are cranky and insane.
8.) Nutritonal labels on candy bars. Get real. If you're to the point where that candy bar is in your hot little hand, nothing else matters.
While I appreciate the concern for our health, I have never, ever yet seen nor heard of anyone picking up a candy bar, reading the label and putting it back down. Ever.
9.) Microwavable popcorn. Yes, it's easy, but I can't help but feel sorry for anyone who hasn't popped up a pan of Jiffy Pop or even know you could make popcorn in your grandmother's cast iron skillet. It's a lost art. I grieve for these lost generations.
10.) High heels. Coming in a the five foot mark, I should love these things. I look great in them and they give me an added couple/three inches of sheer enpowerment. They throw my shoulders back, make my boobs look bigger and my butt cuter. Sadly at this point for the most part, I am too old to care. I do however, care about the bunions and bad knees I now have because of wearing those stupid things up through my twenties. If you see me out and about in them, please know I am either feeling very needy or trying to impress someone that day.
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About Me
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The kindest person on the planet-or so I'm told. I like to read/study, paint/draw and create. I would rather have roses on my table than diamonds around my neck. I long for summer mornings and winter nights, the sound of rain on the roof and the chance to sit before an open fire...blessings. So many blessings....
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Crap-I accidently ran my pocket knife thru the washing machine. I hate that.
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I dreamt I was shopping with Shelly Tambo last night. Wild.
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someone found their way to my site by googling the words "butt was". >snork< I am so flattered :))
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