I remember when.....

Today is October 17.  It's Saturday.  I've had my walk, I've said my prayers, I've started my chores.  I sat at the desk and turned the calendar that belonged to Grannie Silcott for today and found that I had written she died five years ago today. 

And then emotion overcame me. 

This is one of my prized possessions.  A picture of her as a young girl.  One time I lost my temper and threw my checkbook.  I didn't mean to hit this picture, but I broke the glass, so it has been replaced, but the picture and frame are older than mud, as my niece Hannah might say.

This is written on the back of the picture.  It says "To Angel my precious granddaughter, given this Christmas Dec. 25, 1999.  I was 17, I saved money to buy this dress, which cost 20 dollars, that was a lot of money then.  Now I am 93 my birthday will be May 29, 2000." 

She was born in 1906, so it would have been 1923 when this picture was taken.  She lived through some tough stuff. 

Wow, that's about all I can say.

"She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come.  She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue.  She watches over the affairs of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness.  Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her:  Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all.  Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.  Give her the reward she has earned, and let her works bring her praise at the city gate."  Proverbs 31:25-31

Believe me when I tell you.....

There's a few things that I can do fairly well. I can cook a decent steak (except tonight when I burned them), I can get ready in under 30 minutes if the need arises: shower, make-up, hair, the whole kit and caboodle (that's pretty good for a woman); and I've been known to win at thumb wrestling a time or two.  And naturally, there's a few things I can't do.  I can't snow-ski and can live the rest of my life just fine if I never wear a pair of snow skis again, I can't sing,  yodel, or take a non-blurry picture as my blog can testify,  and  I can't grow a pumpkin patch.  I just learned about the pumpkin thing yesterday.  It started way back in the spring, maybe even last winter.  I wanted to have pumpkins this fall. I ventured to Wal-mart and bought a couple packets of seeds.  I pulled weeds out of my little patch of a garden.  I plowed with an antique plow, and me and my niece Ashlynn planted pumpkins.  We even tried to build those little hills it talks about on the back of the seed packet.  We planted and we talked about our plans for these pumkins.  Oh, the dreams we had of carving, painting, and cooking pumpkins.  Maybe we'll sell them out of the back of my Ford Escape and make a couple bucks.  There were certain people who questioned the timing of my sowing.  "Isn't it too late to plant pumpkins?" they inquired. The packet said they need 92 days or maybe it said they need 102 days.   I was cutting it close I knew, but I had good faith.  A few days passed.  They sprouted.  Yippee!  A few more days, they put on some leaves.  Things were looking hopeful.  No, I didn't water them.  It's fall, I figured they didn't need much water.  Nope, I didn't weed them.  Still, they perservered.  A few more days and they put on flowers.  The pumpkins were coming next.  I just knew it.  I told my class I had a pumpkin patch.  I'd bring some to my classroom.  We'd do a whole pumpkin unit.  We'd measure the circumfrence, circumfrance, how big around they are, we'd guess the number of seeds inside, we'd carve, we'd paint, we'd roast pumpkin seeds and eat the salted devils.   More days were crossed off the calendar.  Still no pumpkins.  They'll be here by Christmas, I convinced myself.  Who says I can't decorate the Christmas table with pumpkins?  A few more days passed, and a cold spell descended on the golden spread.  It drizzled for days.  We brought in the potted plants.   We brought out the heavy coats.  We lit the fireplace. I never thought about the pumpkins.  It's fall for Pete's sake.  (Do you ever wonder who Pete is?)  They are pumpkins.  This is their time to shine.  This is October for crying out loud!  I checked on them yesterday.  They are withered, lifeless vines with curled up leaves.  I guess pumpkins like the cold and drizzle about the same as a daffodil would.  I guess pumpkins need water about the same as a lily does.  I guess I'll have to go to Wal-mart if I want to carve, paint, or measure a pumpkin this year.  On the other hand, I guess I don't want a pumpkin that badly.

My pumpkin patch when it needed watering.  And some sort of white rot on the leaves.

My pumpkin patch on a good day, maybe.  It doesn't look terrible here does it?  Just a bit wilted.  Wouldn't you think I'd at least have one pumpkin to show for all my hard work???

My pumpkin patch when it needed weeding.  I won't even go in there.  There is a giant hole that some critter made in there.  God only knows!  That's why I take pictures through the fence.  Hey, yeah that's my excuse for not watering or weeding.

The hole some critter made that had me and Ashlynn running to the house.  It's about 2 feet deep. We couldn't help but envisioning something with huge fangs and sharp claws attacking us as we crouched down to take a better look. 

 

May your life be more fruitful than my pumpkin patch!

 Have a great night!

Aw Shucks!

I didn't win the book competition. 
Aw shucks, I tell myself. 
I tell myself that today. 
But Saturday, 3 days ago, I was almost prostrate with grief. 
I was never going to write again. 
I was a terrible writer who would never make it. 
I called my family.
It is very hard to admit to people that you failed. 
Disappointments are hard to take.
Disappointing others is harder. 
But I've just got to get up, dust myself off, and carry on.
And eat. I keep my head in the trough.
My husband consoled me with flowers.
Aren't they beautiful?

And pound cake.

My favorite.

He's simply mahvalous!

hominy, hominy, hominy

Today I took a big step.  I overcame my fear of hominy.  Yep, hominy.  I had a unfortunate experience during my young adult years that involved an open can of hominy, a fork, a filthy house and a hypodermic needle.  I'll spare the details, but I've refused to eat it until tonight.  

Actually I was pleasantly surprised. Jason likes the texture. He's a texture man when it comes to his food. He likes that mushy middle of a hominy kernel.
I tried out a new recipe for a hominy casserole that I found from thepioneerwoman.com, a site that I check out regularly these days.  I'm envious of this transplanted city girl who gets to stay home, live on a ranch, and homeschool her children.  Uh...I could do without the homeschooling and, well,  the children too. But the staying home and living on a ranch part would suit me just fine. 
 
If you say hominy 3 times fast, you sort of sound like an auctioneer.  Go ahead.  I know you want to.

Woody Guthrie Jam Session

A small crowd gathered inside the old Harris Drugs this past weekend to play a little music in tribute to Woody Guthrie, a folk singer who spent a few years here in our little town and worked at Harris Drug. 

Legend says that it was while working here, he found a guitar in the back room and began writing and playing music. 

About fifteen chairs formed a circle in this old building and musicians ranging in ages from 12 to 72 played music.  Pardon me while I describe the instruments, as I am far from knowledgeable.  Some had guitars, electrical and acoustical, there was a steel guitar type instrument laying over a man's lap, a mandolin, and a few harmonica players.   A girl had a bag of tricks for percussion including a shaking thing that rattled and a stick that ran up and down a ridged board.  Looked like something off of Hee Haw, an oldy but goody.  Sometimes, she just clapped along with the music, picking up the rhythm and adding her unique clap.  They passed a microphone around to anyone who wanted to say a few words about Woody's music or sing.  Some were good, and some were....eh, well you know.  Simon Cowell would not have been pleased.  It was a neat experience to watch these musicians who would ask what key or "gear"  to play in and they could all just pick up the songs, even if they'd never heard them before.  They would  watch the lead guy who started the set until they could just find the music and play.  Woody wrote about the dust bowl days with songs like "Dust Bowl Blues".  Some of his other titles are "Do-Re-Mi", "Pretty Boy Floyd", and "This Land is Your Land".Here's a picture of our main street circa 1930's.  A far cry from what it looks like today. 

Times were tough then, and we think we have it bad.  Watch this video and have a listen:

So long, it's been good to know you.

Madhatter

Sometimes I imagine.  I imagine what it would be like to have lived during another era. A different time.  I drink my coffee from a china cup and saucer.  I enjoy the nostaligia of it.  Forget Starbucks and fast food.  Slow it down folks.

Which reminds me of hats.  I like hats.  Can you remember when women wore hats?  It hasn't changed for men.  Men wear ball caps, cowboy hats, bowler hats, stocking hats, any hat they want.  The only women I see wear hats are in church on Easter or ball caps with pony tails pulled through, a real classy look.  I'm on a mission to find a hat with a unique style.  No, I don't want some frilly bonnet or ginormous sunhat.  But I think I'm fond of berets.  Perhaps the crispness of October beckons berets.  This site has a smorgasbord of hats to  choose from.

http://www.hats.com/

Ashlynn, my precocious niece went garage sale-ing this past weekend and returned very proud of this one of a kind find!

She also found some booties.  Forgive my blurry pictures.  I'm sure my camera was on a bad setting and it had nothing at all to do with the photographer.

And so, I begin my hat hunting endeavor.  Maybe I'll just borrow my niece's hand knitted hat.  My husband is thrilled!  (not really)

The Sky is Falling!

Tomorrow is October and Autumn is descending. You can tell the season is upon us here at our house by the great abundance of acorns that clutter our yard and driveway. Our yard is quite small, but we have 78 oak trees. Maybe I exaggerate, okay then, 77 oak trees.

Beautiful trees.
These mighty oaks produce mighty acorns. And I exaggerate not. Just look at this branch.

Look closer. They actually grow like grapes in clusters. And then, they fall. And if I don't get them all picked up, they nestle down in the dark earth throughout the winter, and sprout as dumb little saplings in the spring, only to grow up and produce more acorns. It's a vicious cycle folks. And if I don't pull them when they are tiny, their roots grow deep and it is nearly impossible to pull out a little oak. Now, all you tree huggers don't get mad, I am a tree lover too. I'm all for trees. Look at the beautiful foliage.

Now look at the beautiful mess.

Pulling into our drive-way sounds like stampeding elephants on bubblewrap.
I have had so many acorns in the past 4 years living here, that I actually have sold them on Ebay. Yes, you heard me right! There are people who will buy acorns at the affordable price of 99 cents per pound. When you pick up acorns, you have a lot of time to think. It's a time consuming chore. It's tedious, boring, back breaking, and monotonous. Not exactly my idea of fun. As I was picking them up one afternoon, I thought to myself there has got to be a way to make a little money here. I mean I have an abundance, surely there is a market for these boogers. So I checked it out. It's not much of a market, but a small market just the same. With competition I might add. Others try to sell their acorns on ebay too.

This was the pic I took to post on ebay. See how huge they get compared to a quarter? One year, I sold 50 pounds. One lady fed them to a pet flying squirrel. A teacher did a unit of study on Native Americans up in Ohio and the class ground the acorns down to make bread......or something. I'm not sure what drove others to buy them, but I shipped some to New York and all sorts of places. Well sweeping, raking, and bending is a lot of work. So I researched and found a little acorn picker-upper.

Some ingenious person invented this. It is called the Nut Wizard and you can buy it online. It does make my acorn harvesting alot easier. You just roll it around, and it does the work for you.

When it fills up, you empty it.

The nut wizard has always reminded me of this little toy.

Maybe it's the shape? Maybe it's the vaccumming motion? Maybe its the little popping sound? Maybe I'm weird? I knew that already.

Auntie Blog Time

I ran across the term "mommy blog" yesterday. I'm assuming it's for all those peeps who only blog about their kids. So, I've coined my own term "auntie blog". Real original huh? No kids for me, and no I don't want any, thanks for asking. I have a very selfish streak and am quite the loner. Kids don't exactly fit into that equation. I get my kid fill everyday at school, and then I have these nieces and nephews that I can latch onto anytime I want sticky fingerprints in the house.
Today is my #1 nephew's birthday. He turned five today and we had a big five year old bash at McDonald's.

Happy Birthday Harley!! He ran around so much playing, I could barely get a picture.

I did manage a family portrait of all three of my brother's ankle biters.

Here you have Harley, the birthday boy, Maxx, the crybaby, and Ashlynn, the big sister......

and a rockstar at blowing straw wrappers at your head.

Here's the happy father!

Maxx decided to do an impersonation of the Hunchback of Notre Dame. What does he look like to you? Comment me!











But we did finally manage to get a sweet smile from him.

And then for the big finale!! The birthday wish and candle blowing. Yes, I do believe that boy is picking his nose.....

I've got followers!

I wish there were more hours in the day. I can't ever seem to get accomplished what I desire. I love reading blogs, but need several hours to explore them the way I'd like to. I still don't know what I'm doing with my own blog. Really I don't even know the purpose of blogging except that it fulfills my writer's need. I'm in the discovery stage of trying to figure this all out. I've found a lot of blogs out there are "mommy blogs". I'm not a mom, so my future blogs more than likely will cover unimportant topics. I've started a list:

1. My pumpkin patch
2. Picking blueberries
3. Bottlefeeding calves
4. Eating hominy
5. Never having enough time in the day (oh yeah, that's what I'm talking about now

Lots of food stuff huh? Obviously, I'm a little obsessed with eating!

I'd like more time to blog. I have 2 followers now and I'm so glad to know someone is interested in my random thoughts and ramblings. I hope not to disappoint!

Not seeing is believing

I think we're moving. Do you ever just get a feeling? You know the one where you just know something? Last Friday night, a guy approached us about his house that he's selling. We haven't really been looking, but we hope to get out somewhere with a little acreage and some facilities for horses and cows for Jason, maybe some chickens, goat, and sheep for me. Who knows....but I do want some critters. Well we checked out the house and loved it! It is perfect for us. Well, someone beat us to it and it sold. Nevertheless, I couldn't shake the feeling that we should list our house anyway. So, I called up my realtor relative a few days later to get our house on the market. That same night, the owner of the house we loved called and said the deal may not go through with the first buyer and we may still have a shot at it. We may know something Monday. We're just stepping out in big ole faith about this. Worse case scenario: we'll be homeless.

Can it get any funner than this?

The weather is chilly and I decided that flip flops might not be conducive to 50* weather, so I had to squeeze into actual shoes and socks today for the first time in more than 4 months. My feet did not like the feeling of confinement. My big toes are sore. Well I guess this isn't entirely true. The more I think about it, I do wear my tenni runners (as my dad calls them) every morning to walk and I occasionally wear my cowboy boots.

I enjoy taking our two dogs out and letting them experience what a dog should. Wide open spaces, wind, and birds or flying bugs or whatever catches their fancy to chase. I don't enjoy taking them in my car. They don't ride well. They bounce from the backseat to the front. The big dog is a superstar drooler and puddles of drool are all over the console where he is hanging over from the backseat. The little dog sheds like crazy and it sticks to the car seats. A vaccuum won't even pick up all the dog hair, but you better believe that my black pants will! So, my darling husband offered to drive us (us being me, the big dog, the littler dog, and my niece) out to the land. This weekend, I envisioned a day of relaxing and resting out on the land that we partly own. It's an empty pasture land. To most people, it's ugly and barren, but to me it's a little slice of paradise.

I suggested he drop us off. Why this hairbrained idea came to me, I'll never know. "Sure I said, it will be fun, just drop us off, we'll entertain ourselves." Being the ever obedient husband that he is, he agreed and dropped us off at the gate. We walked and walked and walked, just to get to the windmill. We crossed great big draws, and had to slide down our butts on a dirt slide. When we arrived at the windmill, we expected clear, flowing water.

Clear water??? Not on your life.....this dirt tank looked like pea soup. And no, I don't understand the difference between a pond and a dirt tank.

Some cows glare at us, as if to say what are you doing on my pasture??

Ashlynn rolled up her old pant legs and thought about heading in with the dogs, but was turned off by the stinky, muddy gunk that squeezed between her toes and had to be scraped off with a stick.

Ashlynn thought this cow patty looked like an easter egg. It kinda does, doesn't it?

Until next time......

The Chill of Autumn

The weather took a very sharp turn to super chilly today. The wind picked up to a comfortable 50 mph blasting autumn into our little town. I worked late, and left the school at 7:00. I hate doing that, but if I hadn't I would be up to my eyebrows in work. As it stands, I'm only up to my nose hairs. As soon as I walked in the house, I shed the funeral clothes I wore today, and donned the ratty, soft sweats. Potato soup. Nothing says comfort like potato soup. I put a little too much salt, but it wasn't half bad. Now, my belly is full, my toes are warm, and my bed is calling.

Isn't this beautiful?? This is nothing like fall here in the Texas panhandle......





Ah, yes.....this is more like it.

www.abcbookcompetition.org

1:00 in the morning, my eyes pop open. The polls have opened for my children's book competition. Yes folks, the day you have all been anxiously awaiting has finally arrived. This does sound like you, doesn't it?? I jumped out of bed to check and double check to see if I could vote. It looks like a successful attempt. (or 2 or 3) I put in all my email addresses. Please spread the word to your blog and all who read it to go to www. abcbookcompetition.org and vote for Doggie Went A-Courtin' by Angel Wheeler. And you (imagine me pointing at you like Uncle Sam here) I NEED YOU! So, do it everyday (on my knees begging here) I will dance at your wedding!!

Daydreaming

I sit around dreaming alot. A lay around dreaming alot. I dream of being a published author. I dream of a farmhouse in the country with a wrap around porch. I dream of being a size six. I dream of a slow paced life. I dream of being surrounded by a family that doesn't get on each other's nerves (Not sure if that's possible) I dream of waking before dawn everyday: praying, walking, and writing as the sun rubs the sleep from my eyes. I dream of health and longevity. I dream of a legacy. I fear that I'll look around and realize that my life has slipped away like sand slipping through my fingers. But for today, I must focus on today. I appreciate my job. I appreciate my husband and family. I appreciate my home. I appreciate the chaos in my head. I appreciate the days I haven't wasted, hoping for more.

I am who I am. Nobody's approval needed.

Today has found me home alone as Jason has left town to visit his grandma in Plainview. I have basked in napping, reading, piano playing, spending time with my niece Ash, and eating everything in sight. I love solitude. Sometimes I wonder if there might be something wrong with me because I love being by myself so much. I think it's a good place to be. We got a new mattress, a sleep number, and I think it is sending me subliminal messages to crawl into it. But after all, it is Labor Day, a perfectly fine day to use as an excuse to do nothing right?