'Tis the season

 It was interesting. I got up to put the turkey in and was surprised to see that overnight, we had just gotten a dusting of snow. Our bad weather was late!

So Thanksgiving went off perfectly with two turkeys, two hams and all the traditional side dishes. All the traditional people were there too. Good time. 

The following morning was a far different story.

The local news issued warnings about unnecessary travel, really stressing that the snow was hitting some places very hard and that made travel quite dangerous.

But in the very next segment, they talked about the Black Friday crowd of shoppers. Thanksgiving is always on a Thursday here. The Friday after Thanksgiving is called Black Friday and is considered to be the kickoff for Christmas shopping.

Stores offer huge savings on things to entice people into their store. The crowds are crazy bad. I did the Black Friday thing once. It was scary, with people pushing and shoving, and being rude to each other.

You could not pay me to be a part of that even if the roads had been good.

The news reporter showed long lines of people waiting for the store to open its doors. Some people had been waiting for 5 hours in the snow. Traffic was backed up a mile at the entrance to the parking lot.

And then there was this: I watched in total disbelief. So many are struggling right now. It almost seems obscene to me. Some stores are making it easy: buy now, pay later

I'm not a grinch and neither is Tim, but we have never gone into debt for the holiday. This year, we are even more cautious than usual. 

This excess just strikes me as foolish.

We have 10 inches of snow on the ground.

Happy Thanksgiving

 Cranberry sauce (check)

Blueberry pie (check)

Apple pie (check)

Turkey stuffed. Cream corn assembled and ready for baking. Carrots pared and ready to be glazed.

We celebrate Thanksgiving with my brother in law's family, nieces, nephews, and greats and grands and in-laws and out-laws, and whoever gets swept up in the rush. No one brings everything, but everyone brings something. As I understand it, we will have two turkeys and two hams and all manner of potatoes, vegetables, breads and desserts. 

If you leave hungry, it is your own darn fault.

That being said, it has begun to snow. The winds are expected to reach 50 mph over night and depending on who you are listening, snow accumulations are expected to fall in the 8-12 inch range over night. Travel warnings.

It will be interesting to see how this all works our.

 

If you are celebrating Thanksgiving, I hope it is a good one.

The Greatest Gift

 The Christmas project will always seem like a miracle to me. I had an idea. I posted that idea on Facebook. People got very excited about the idea.

The YMCA stepped up to provide a venue. People are volunteering their time, people are donating. A tech person has created a poster for it. 

She will add the times tonight, it will go live tomorrow. Under discussion is whether a newspaper will offer free ad space. A television reporter might be coming out on the 12th to talk to the organizers and volunteers. Members of the local Democrats have expressed interest in participating. 

Although it is being thrown together in a short time frame this year, a woman at the Y knows a group from Pittsburgh who have been doing this for 25 years. She wants us to meet up with them after the holidays and figure out how we can turn this into an annual tradition.

Crazy.

Something interesting that I realized today: Life has bit me hard and as a result, I have always been a guarded person. I mean I have always known this. I have known since childhood that there was something wrong with me. It is hard to explain, so I won't, but I know that I piss people off. I always have. 

This is a project that has the potential to make a huge difference. If I want to be a part of it, I need to let my guard down.

Today, it occurred to me that for all the focus on giving, I might be receiving the biggest gift of all - a new vision of myself and a changed perception of the world around me. 

Miracles and mysteries

Today, we had to go into town, and so we decided to drive Tim's 'newest old truck' into town. It runs just right, and Tim is so pleased about that. 

We loaded up the television equipment and brought it back to the house. We used Tim's phone as a hotspot, and used the ROKU to order Paramount+, and just like that, we were watching television.

Just like that did not happen just like that, mind you, but it got sorted out. 

Today's aggravation: I have a broom that has a dustpan that snaps on to the handle. When I got it, I thought, "I will never lose the dustpan" and for 6 months, that has been true. 

Saturday, i could not find that dust pan. Three days later, I still can't find that dustpan to save my soul.

What do you think?

Now here is something I am interested in hearing your opinion on:

Last week, I had a stubborn sinus infection. It has been a long time since I dealt with something like that, so I am standing in the aisle at our local Walmart reading labels on the various OTCs. I became aware of a beeping and I looked towards it. In the ceiling, much to my surprise there was a square screen displaying the flashing words 'Recording in Progress'. I stood there watching myself watching me.

I wasn't quite sure what to make it. I didn't like it. 

I moved on. We needed a curtain rod. We knew what length. We knew the finish. We looked at the different kinds. Before we chose, I heard that beeping once again. I looked up and sure enough, there we were. Along with the flashing red words 'Recording in Progress'. FFS! I mean, the curtain rods were in a 4 foot box. It wasn't like we would stuff that in a pocket. 

We walked on discussing it. What was triggering that? Were we specifically being targeted as potential thieves? Why? We both agreed that we did not like it.

I saw USB cords. I stopped once again. I needed one that fit my phone and our charging block. I knew I needed a long cord. Before I could even pick one out, we heard that beeping once again. 

I said to Tim, "you know what? I think that when you stop, it triggers an alert." We began to look around and realized that these cameras were all over the store. 

I was kind of grumpy. Neither of us liked that, and in my defense you have to remember that I had a sinus headache situation. I said, 'Forget the USB cord.' I walked away, but not before flipping the camera off.

We had one more thing to look at: I needed to look at earrings for my granddaughter. I said, "you KNOW there will be a camera there. How on earth can you browse, and feel comfortable about it? I mean it is Christmas season, and it seems like they would expect that.." 

Sure enough, there was a camera. I was trying to hurry. I wasn't fast enough. When the team leader came over to unlock the cabinet to get the earrings out, I made it really clear that I thought the cameras were creepy and I did not like the feeling of being rushed. "If I can't look around without that being seen as suspicious, I will do my browsing someplace else."

He said he would pass on my comments.

We haven't been back. 

So...what do you think? 

As John Gray would say, "answers on a postcard."

The Miracle

A miracle happened for Tim. He has been working at fixing his truck for weeks now. Replace a part. Study the situation. Watch a few you tube videos. Buy another part. Replace the part. Study the situation. Watch a few more videos. Repeat the cycle over and over.

He is very patient. Very methodical. Still  truck was not right. 

As weeks went on, privately I worried. Sometimes he struggles since his stroke and because he is quiet, I don't always see it, and let's get real here: even if I did realize he was having a problem, it was not a problem I was going to be any help at all with. 

So I fretted as the weeks went by. I told myself that puttering on the truck was a good brain exercise for him, just like crosswords were good exercise for my brain, but then I heard him tell a friend 'I have gotten myself into a real predicament with that truck.' 

He sounded a bit discouraged. 

Later, I asked the question: "what if you can't fix that truck?" 

He said. "I don't know. I never had it happen before. 

And to be fair, this is true.

Today, I heard his truck running. I just assumed it was the '82 Chevy truck and wondered where he was going. I looked out the window and realized it was the new old truck running. It sounded just as smooth as the old old truck. I watched him standing there listening to it. He hopped back inside and revved it a few times. No miss. 

He shut it off. Tinkered. Started it back up. Revved it. Listened. Finally he shut it off and closed the hood. He walked back to the house with a jaunty little bounce to his step.  

"It sounds good," I said cautiously. 

He washed his hands, and went back out to take it for a test drive. 

He seems to have fixed his truck. 

The Opossum of Optimism

The idea of struggling families not being able to provide Christmas for their children was weighing heavily on my mind. I remembered what it felt like.

I knew that it was not something that any one person could accomplish on her own, so I threw it out into the community via  a local 'Helping Hands' site, just to test the water 

It just seemed to me that there are two extremes here in my community: the people who are weeding out their kids' toys  in preparation for the influx of new toys and the people who would be pleased to be able to put those things under their tree for their own children. I wondered if anyone else would be interested in trying to make that happen.

My modest expectations were blown right out of the water when the post got 161 likes, and 80 people volunteering donations. I really could not believe it.

The first thing was to find a venue. It is such a busy time of the year. While churches were my first thought, my phone calls to them went unreturned. To be fair, some are providing community meals for those facing food insecurity and are just too busy. Others are busy preparing for Christmas celebrations. I imagine some just do not have the space to donate to an endeavor like this. But no one got back to me.

This weekend was a tough one. I felt terrible that I might have whipped up such enthusiasm for such a terrific project only to be unable to even get it off the ground. It didn't help that my cold had morphed into a sinus infection. The thought that came to mind was 'when it rains, it pours'. Except that instead of rain, we got yet another lake effect snowstorm which dumped 8 inches of snow on us again.

I just felt bad about disappointing people. 

I received a message today, from someone who saw the post. She and her organization were completely willing to provide the venue. Staff it. One day of donation drop offs, with doors opening for pickup on the following day. They told me their two available days. 'Would that work?' she asked.

'Yes,' I typed back.

It needs to be brought before the board at tomorrow's meeting for final approval from the director, a formality, she assured me, since everyone who has heard the idea is as excited as she is. Then we can begin to put the word out into the community.

When that conversation was done, I made one call and sent two messages giving an unofficial heads up.

Everything unfolded so quickly that I still can't quite believe it. I cried.

LATE EDIT: I really want to make it clear that I only had an idea. What is making it happen is a community. It is truly a miracle to me to be reminded of the good people with good hearts that live all around me. 

Maybe...

 These are hard times, but when you live in a county that is poor to begin with, the hard times hit even harder. I could not stop thinking about the holidays coming.

Being poor is humiliating. I have been poor. There was always someone trying to assure you that it was all your own fault that you were poor. Everyone felt qualified to opine on why you were struggling. I had three children. I wanted the best for them. But I felt like the biggest failure ever.

And I just had this idea rolling around in my head. I threw it out into the community, expecting to be ridiculed.

But I wasn't. People seized on it. Offers of donations, volunteers. Venue suggestions. I have a call into a church right now, but have not heard back. People want to involve their kids even. 

And it is a beautiful, beautiful reminder that for all the ugliness in the world, there is still goodness. There are scores of people ready to jump up and try  to make a miracle, just waiting for their chance to be a part of something positive.

I am afraid to jinx it, so I am keeping my tiny little flame close for right now, but oh if only it can happen!

Ordinary

There are things that I love about this house. The tile floor in the bathroom is above the heating stove in the basement. That tile absorbs the heat and feels wonderful on bare feet.

On the other hand the tin roof....yesterday, in the still house, reading with a purring cat on my lap, the snow falling outside, suddenly, snow slid from the roof. The cat exploded, leaping from my lap, upsetting my coffee cup on the carpet  in his mad bolt for the basement. Adding to the chaos, a suncatcher fell to the floor and shattered. So that was not so wonderful. We will have to look into some sort of baffle system.

Today, we drove an hour and change to have lunch with Tim's family. Cousins. One of his brothers. One of his sisters. It was nice to see everyone. A notebook went around of genealogy notes. Much of the discussion was on the subject of their grandfather. Tim and five of his cousins were born in 1957. They are the oldest of that generation, and their grandfather died when they were all 3 year olds. 

So they were sharing their memories of him and stories they'd heard of him. One of the things was about his great love of horses.

Probably 20 years ago, Tim's mother loved our big old house in town. She gave me a photograph of a man in a fedora standing by his horse. She told me it was something that she had picked up at a yard sale. She thought it suited our house. I hung it on our wall with an old keywound clock topped by a rearing horse.

Tim liked the picture too. He thought it looked like his grandfather. He was surprised when I told him what his mother had said, but he had no reason to doubt her.

But as this man was discussed, it just began to remind me of that picture. I said, "would anyone here recognize him in a pictuŕe?" and someone actually had a picture of him. Looks like the same man in the same hat standing alongside a different horse. 

There was quite a bit of excitement about our picture as well as curiosity about how it came to be that Tim's mother failed to recognize her own father. Was her mind beginning to fail even then? I have an idea she was losing her vision. She was blind by the time she died.

But it is a nice discovery. Now that we know what it is, it needs to be brought to the new house. Copies made and shared.

I had a Reuben sandwich at luncĥ today. I never had one and always meant to try one. It was very nice. 

We drove home along country roads that Tim has driven all his life. A bald eagle swept down and hovered about six feet over the hood of the car. We marveled at the sight while it decided which way it needed to go, and then powerfully veered off to the right.

It has warmed up considerably outside tonight. It is now pouring rain. By tomorrow morning when we get out of bed, all the snow will be gone.

'Tis the season

 I was worn out when I went to bed last night. I hadn't had a full night sleep for a couple of nights. 

The first night was due to a coughing, grumpy husband

The second night was cats. They meowed to go out at 5:30:am, as usual. When I shuffled down the hall to let them out, they looked at the snow on the porch, a light dusting, but enough to cause them both to paws and rethink. They decided no. 

I relocked the door and went back to bed. Minutes later, they were both at it again. This time they were meowing at the other door, hoping, I suppose that the weather would be more to their liking out that door. I opened the door. They peered out and once again, they backed away. 

At that point, I just did not bother to go back to bed. I did not want to disturb him. 

So yesterday was a long day. I filled it with making chili and watching the snow and daydreaming about my moonscape. 

Tim finally got his bow back from the repair shop. He was out hunting all afternoon, so it was a quiet day, much of it spent opening and closing doors so two cats could consider whather or not they actually wanted out. (Spoiler: they didn't.)

So I went to bed early last night, all Vicks-ed up. I pulled the drapes and I slept soundly until 7:30, something that was really disorienting. Two cats should have woke me up already. And why did it seem so quiet and darker than usual? 

We had received more than the predicted inch of snow. More like 8 inches. The cats didn't even bother to ask to go out at all. 

 This van slid on the curve, crossed over, missing the beginning of the guard rail (luckily), going outside it to pass through our swamp before being bogged down. That old house in the back is the old house that we used to stockpile the things for the new house.

Slow down, everyone. 'Tis the season.

in my head

Boud always is up to some creative endeavor with her textiles. I enjoy reading about her projects, but what I love best is that she seems so joyous. 

Anyway, one of her mantras is 'anything can be a loom' and today she talked about using a saw blade. The first thought I thunk was 'how on earth does that woman come up with her ideas?!!!' Which was followed by 'I wonder what you could do with that woven circle?'

And just that quickly the moon popped into my head. I could make a moon. And if I wove a mat of varying shades of black, gray and blue, I could lay that moon on it. 

As i worked chopping onions and peppers for my pot of chili, my mind kept whirring away. Small silvery beads would make great stars randomly woven into the sky. I could use a branch for the top of the sky scene. If i trimmed off all off the down facing branches and did the first couple rows of weaving loose enough, i could rotate the branch so that the upward facing branches were pointing downward, giving the effect of viewing a night sky through the branches of a bare winter tree.

I sautéed the meat, peppers, and onions, stirred in some adobo paste,  garlic, and salt as my mind whirred away. 

Remember those glittery sweaters from the 80s? Lurex? That would be a very cool thing to make my moon out of, a cream colored sweater all shot through with glittery silver threads!

It all came together in my mind so very quickly. I knew how it should be. Exactly. 

And I felt a little foolish. I have never done anything like this, but suddenly I wanted to.

 I am not sure what talents I have. It might not be as easy as I have it envisioned in my head. 

Maybe I will discover  something about myself that I never knew.

Sunday

There is a lot of fingerpointing about the shutdown. One woman I know is afraid for her grandchildren. "We can't let them go without food!" And I understood her anguish. I did. She wants the shutdown resolved. 

(So do I, don't get me wrong.)

But, you know, I am encouraged by churches stepping up to the plate, offering food. Free meals. Not every church is full of MAGA evangelical crazy pants, though it easy to forget that fact.

Ordinary people are stepping up too.

Here in my town, people post their address on Facebook, telling people that they have food on their porch for anyone who needs it. Offers to deliver it if needed. 

The local Aldi has an offer up for a $40 Thanksgiving that will feed 10 people. 

Everywhere you look, you see people and organizations stepping into the breach. It is beautiful to see. Hopeful.

How long will this shutdown last? I don't know. But I think that we need to hold the line. We can feed each other. We cannot provide health care for each other. Simple statement of fact. 

So.

That's my thoughts on it. 

Our friend came back for cheesy cream of potato soup. I cooked up his squash for him, and another batch of cornbread. My daughter and new son in law and William were coming, so I did up a batch of rolls to go with as well. 

No time to whip up a dessert today. I overslept. Tim has a cold and once again it has settled in his chest. He was coughing so hard that he could not sleep. He got up, grumpy and cross, yelling at cats and generally making it impossible for me to sleep. 

This coughing stuff always makes me feel sickish inside. It was a stubborn cough that started the chain of events which led to Tim's stroke a couple years ago. Even worse, that cold happened about this time of the year, too. So his coughing makes me anxious. Not a lot of sleeping by anybody last night.

But I had the soup going in the crock pot before I went to bed. All I needed to do this morning was make and add the cheese sauce. I had also made the bread dough last night, so all I needed to do with that was pull the bowl out of the fridge and punch the dough down and let it come to room temperature. I roasted squash, grabbed a shower, and slapped the cornbread together. While the breads baked, I skinned the squash, added butter, brown sugar and a bit of cream and let the mixer do its magic. 

Lunch was on the table right on time, and it was a nice afternoon of visiting.

Of course, the big news was the weather. First snow of the season. Maybe. No accumulations expected until suddenly things changed and there was talk of lake effect snow. What was going to happen? The answer varied depending on who you listened to.

(The unattractive thing in the foreground is my small tarped off 'pumpkin patch', set apart from everything because pumpkin vines tend to grow at such an amazing rate.)

That stinks

 Tim has been working away on his truck. He has been installing the $800 part and it has been raining like crazy so he has the truck partially pulled into the garage so that he can stay dry as he works. 

Last night, he came in for supper (ham and spinach quiche, a new recipe, yummo). When he was done, he strapped a headlamp on and headed back down to the garage. He was nearly done and wanted to work a little more. 

I was cleaning up supper, when the door opened just moments later and he walked back in. "I am done for a while." 

Remember that skunk I saw a while back? He was at the catfood dish. In the dim, I thought we had a new cat. He spun around and waddled off.

Since then, we have noticed he has returned from time to time by his faint but distinctive scent. We haven't actually seen him. We pondered what to do about it. Since skunks are nocturnal, we feed the cats in the morning now and just give them a smaller meal at night. 

I had just fed them that meal just before it got dark while our own supper was cooling. When Tim walked down, there was the skunk having himself a small smackeral with the cats. He looked completely at ease, and made no move to leave. 

Tim stood there a bit surprised, taking the scene by the light of his headlamp. After a shocked moment, he decided that he should make the move to leave.

Moreover, when he opened the house door later, he said "There's a possum on the porch!"

I said, "Possum the cat?"

"No," he said. "Possum the possum." 

And lo, the man whose great joy is watching the deer and turkeys out of the front window sounded very grumpy. 

The Horror!

 So yesterday Katie called. They needed a ride. I was having a puttering day, so I said I could do it. I had a small shopping list myself. 

Here, Christmas displays started going up well before Halloween. You had your 'welcome Autumn' decor aisle right next to your Halloween costumes and decor which was adjacent to your Thanksgiving displays which was in a direct sight line with your Christmas trees and tree decorations and the lights and the bows and wrapping paper. 

It truly is a confusing time of the year, but let's be real...I have become accustomed to this.

But, all that being said, as I browsed the aisle wasting time while they did their shopping, I was shocked to realize that I was listening to Christmas music. Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. 

I said to the the woman on the other side of the aisle 'It just is too early to be hearing this!'

She said, "It makes me feel like I am behind, like I need to hurry up!"

And that is what they want, for everyone to spend more time in the stores. 

But not really. 

Before my daughter's wedding, we were doing a lot of multitasking. Tim had an appointment to get a vehicle inspection done. I needed to order the cake, find a topper, look for a picture frame, get a card, buy pantyhose, etc. Lots of boxes needed ticking that day. 

The thing was, there was no sense in rushing, because Tim would not be back for a while, so I moved through the store at a leisurely pace. I took my time selecting the cake and talking to the sweet woman in the bakery. 

I browsed the floral department to pick the bouquet. 

I ran into a friend I had literally not seen in years. Unbelievably, we were both looking for pantyhose. We eventually found it, but we were yakking the whole time. 

Over to home decor to look through their picture frames, then to the Christmas aisles to try to find something to work for a cake topper, which was not far from the clearance aisle, and lord knows, I always check the clearance. Etc. 

So I was meandering through the store taking my good old sweet time when I realized I was being watched. A casually dressed gentleman seemed to be reappearing no matter where I was. He didn't hover, but I noticed him passing by me as I walked, or suddenly appearing and disappearing at the end of the aisle I was in. 

It happened often enough that it just made me want to finish up and get out of the store. I don't even know why. I knew I was not doing anything wrong, but just the fact that they thought I was was enough for me. When I did the self checkout, the attendant watched me closely. That was the giveaway. 

I paid for my stuff, got a printed receipt and waited out front in the cold for 20 min. until Tim got back to pick me up. 

I mean, I get it, but still, it was an uncomfortable situation.

Fast forward. Same big box store, different location. Two weeks later. I was just running in, a quick stop...I needed to buy a larger ice chest. Of course, while I was there, I decided to pick up a pound of sausage and a pound of ground beef to make meatballs at my son's house. I was speedwalking because I had 40 pounds of frozen chicken breast in the back of the car that did not all fit in the cooler I had.

I got up to the self check out and I wasn't the only one speedwalking. The attendant zipped right over and asked to look inside the empty cooler.  

I had the little gun in my hand as I rang up my meat and two other things I had grabbed in passing. I put them into the empty cooler. I said, "you know, I do understand why you watch everyone, but really, it is a little humiliating...' 

I replaced the gun and reached for my purse, still talking.

The attendant said, "You are going to scan the cooler, right?"

Mortified, I could only say, "I would have figured out that I had not scanned it when I saw the total."

I hope I am smart in my next life. GADS!

STFU

 It was a productive day today. While I was away enjoying Grandma time, Mr Romance ducked out and surprised me with a truckload of mushroom mulch. Which was actually very sweet.

I spent the day shoveling it into my raised beds, which will be tarped off for the winter. This gives the mulch time to break down and age. I am hoping that the tarp will keep the soil in those raised beds free from blight. The black tarp will also absorb the sun's heat next spring, baking (and killing) weeds. 

I will untarp the beds when I am ready to plant next year.

So...that's what I was up to today. 

It was a windy day, but not cold. I worked wearing just a sweatshirt, and I was completely comfortable. 

I got five beds weeded and mulched and smoothed out. The wind picked up and it began to spritz rain. If it doesn't rain tomorrow, I will throw the rest of the mulch on the flower bed and get the vegetable beds tarped.

Tim was busy too. We have snow in the forecast late Sunday. We went shopping for a storm door. We stopped in to a family owned building supply store first, just to see what they had. We found a door we were both satisfied with, nothing fancy, but practical and utilitarian. The guy said, 'I have that door out back. It was a special order that was returned because of a scuffmark." We saved over $200 on that door, and it came with all the hardware and the hydraulic tube that allows the door to shut without slamming.

So that was what Tim did while I shoveled. When he needed an extra set of hands I was there to jump off the truck and 'hold this right here like that' (my special talent).

Tim decided that he needed to order another part for his truck, a spider/fuel injector tube set up. It is the last part he can replace for the fuel assembly. Everything else has been done. If that doesn't solve it, he will begin looking at the computer system.

He could not find the part on Rock Auto. He was getting aggravated because either they didn't understand what he was talking about or they did not know what they were talking about. He finally reached a store that understood what he was looking for. They pulled it up on their computer and said they could have it delivered to the store by 2. He knew it would be expensive but he flinched at the $795 price. 

"Let me think about it," he said.

I interrupted him on the phone, something he hates.. "You order that part! It is false economy to have a truck sitting around that you can't use." 

He ordered the part, and went in to pick it up. 

You know, I was pretty upset that he bought another truck with problems, but he has been patiently and methodically replacing parts and studying the situation for quite a while now. 

I was worried about him after his stroke. When he gets tired there are glitches in his logic. Sometimes he stutters. Working on his truck is good exercise for his brain. When he gets tired, he can set it aside and watch a few youtube videos or read up on it. It is something he has loved all his life. 

I need to STFU, as they say. 

At least it is not another house.

Life is for learning

We like soup when the temperature starts to drop. I have a pretty good collection of recipes, but it is always fun to add a new one. 

This one was called Creamy Bean Soup with Kale. I had all the ingredients. It certainly smelled good. 

Note to self: next time I cook kale, remove it from the stems.

Was kale even invented in the 1900s? 

Maybe it was just illegal. 

(Tim thinks it should be.)

A mystery:

Tim came out of the bedroom wearing a tee-shirt. I said, 'Where did you get that?' He said, 'I thought you got it for me.' 'I would not have got you a ratty tee shirt...' 

We have no idea how this shirt wound up in his dresser drawer.  I don't even remember washing and folding it.

It looks like the democrats are having a good day. 

I wrestled with myself over this one. It is awful. 

Oh deer!

I headed out to my son's house Thursday morning. I did not get the early start I usually do. It was raining quite hard but was supposed to taper off between about 9. I decided to hold off. The rut has begun. This means that hormone crazed bucks will be chasing does hell bent on getting away. The incidence of car/deer crashes is greatly increased this time of year. The rain was heavy enough that I was afraid decreased visibility would make a bad situation worse. 

So I waited it out.

The rain did not stop exactly, but it was brighter outside. I finally got on the road at 10. I saw 34 road killed deer once I hit the interstate, so I am sure I made the right decision.

I got to my destination about the same time my oldest grand daughter got out off her school bus. 

It was a busy weekend. Trick or treating Friday night. Practice for the Nutcracker Saturday morning. Birthday party Saturday afternoon.

Unfortunately, the oldest started getting feverish on the way home. Before the night was over,  she was sick. The youngest was sneezing.

So it was a weekend spent at home which suited me just fine. Mom and Dad got a date night. The girls and I curled up on the couch and watched a movie that they loved and I had never seen. 

Last night, I kept waking up in the night freezing. I knew there was another blanket in the closet, so I got out of bed and got it. Except, I woke up freezing and went for that blanket over and over and over again. I wasn't dreaming about being cold, but I was dreaming about getting that blanket! By the time I woke up, I was headachey and knew I was coming down with it too. 

I was afraid to waste any time getting back home. Tuesday is Election Day. I can only cast my vote at the local fire station, and I will be there come hell or high fever, so I dosed myself with aspirin and said goodbye.

I am home now. It was an uneventful trip home, although I did see a very damaged sportscar pulled off the road. The passenger side hood was completely smashed  and the windshield was out. The roof was caved in. 

About 50 yards past that was a bloody mess of a deer. He had obviously leaped out in front of that little car, been hit hard, came over the hood, smashed the windshield and went over the roof. My guess is that the driver was flying.

(Did I mention it is the rut? Smart drivers are not flying anywhere.)

Our clocks went back Saturday night. 

I hope everyone reading makes it a point to get out and to vote tomorrow. We don't have a lot of ways to register our displeasure. Not remaining silent. Voting. How we spend (or don't spend) our dollars. We all need to make our voices heard in every way we can.

Happy Halloween

 I am am away for 5 days being a grandma. Have a happy Halloween!

Suppertime

 Remember our friend who had lost so much weight that he frightened us? He stopped in this morning on his way to Altoona to say that he would be unable to make dinner tomorrow. 

Altoona is a long haul from here. He had a 2:30 appointment. He would be hauling past on his way back home about 6. Tim and I had an appointment to meet at the notary's office to sign the truck over to his nephew, but we would be back home well before then, so I said, "so come tonight."

"Really?" he said. 

It would be simple enough. I was making a pot of Rigmor's lentil soup. I had everything I needed on hand for that. I could chop and sautè, and toss it all in a crock pot. Easy enough. All I had to do was make some rolls. 

He looked hopeful. "Could we have corn bread?"

"That is even easier," I said. "I will make corn bread." He had brought two butternut squash. I said, "Do you like squash? I can bake one of those if you want."

He did want. 

So after he got on the road, I assembled my soup. For the dessert, I figured a high protein vanilla custard. It would be a good way to use up the left over whipped cream from the pumpkin pie. I put the bowl in the fridge to cool, and cleaned the kitchen. 

There were no knife accidents today. (Yay me!)

He showed up at 6, and we all had a leisurely supper.

Before he left, I was able to pin him down to another meal. I think he was embarrassed, but I started simply planning the meal. "Chili or cheesy cream of potato?" 

He hesitated. "Boy...I haven't had a good bowl of potato soup in a long time..."

"Potato soup it is, then. I will make another pan of corn bread for you. Do you want me to make that other squash?"

He agreed that would be nice. He worried about being a bother, but it really isn't any harder to make a meal for three than it is to make a meal for two. I said, "well the fact is, I have made up my mind to put some meat on your bones. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. The easy way is just to go along with me so I don't get mean. Ask Tim."

Tim laughed. So did he. He took his bag of leftovers. "What time should I come then?"

Clarification

 I can understand why so many people had grave concerns about a 14 year old boy having a gun. Given all the school shootings and violent episodes, sure. I totally get that.

But let me explain. The young man in question is a licensed youth hunter. He had to take a hunter safety course when he began hunting at 12. He has to hunt with a licensed adult until he is sixteen. His father is an experienced hunter. Like Tim, his brother was taught by their father. 

The boy now has a gun, but he has not been turned loose with it. The gun will be safely stored. When he visits, he will take his gun out to hunt with his father and brother.

Are our gun laws adequate? No. I can assure you that they are not. For instance, my husband gave a gun to his youngest nephew. There is no paperwork that goes with that transaction.

Should there be? 

We both think so. 

This is how the law reads: 

Registration Laws in Pennsylvania | Giffords https://share.google/UIizHeUkCwlZo4MOi

I believe the laws need to be strengthened. It is not an opinion shared by most people. "We don't need new laws! We need to enforce the laws on the books!" 

You can see that there is not a lot to be enforced.

Let's talk about personal responsibility. Tim's nephew is a high achiever in school. A happy uncomplicated kid, a boy scout whose intentions are to reach Eagle Scout like his brother. But what if he were an awkward kid? Bullied. Prone to angry out bursts. Acting out. Emotionally immature? Uses violent terminology. Should he have access to a weapon? Of course not. 

Unfortunately, Pennsylvania has no laws about weapon storage in the home. 

Should they? Of course. But once again, people will fight tooth and nail against any changes to existing gun laws, screaming about their second amendment rights. 

The sad fact of the matter is that the law is assuming that gun owners will be responsible.

 They often are not. 

James and Jennifer Crumbley trials: Parents of Oxford school shooter sentenced to 10 to 15 years | CNN https://share.google/1rgmChJJG35avyWvq

Adam Lanza’s Mental Problems ‘Completely Untreated’ Before Newtown Shootings, Report Says - The New York Times https://share.google/URlnhaTw4NMTkbaMn

In the case of the Crumbleys, they were called to the school over his disturbing drawings and threats. They dismissed the concerns and allowed him access to an assault weapon.

Adam Lanza's mother likewise ignored concerns and took her son to shooting ranges to practice.

The Uvalde shooter legally bought two assault weapons on his 18th birthday. He had 1682 rounds of ammo.

If assault weapons were not legal, nearly all school shootings would have been prevented. So simple.

Except it is not.

Kids cannot legally drink until they are 21. Why should they be allowed to buy an assault weapon at 18.

Second amendment rights.

People will try to debate the definition of an assault rifle, but the fact is, no matter what you call it, no hunter needs a weapon that fires hundreds of rounds per minute.

It doesn't make sense. You are right. We are left to use our own best judgement in this, and Tim did.

Agree or disagree, the fact is that we live in an area where people hunt. My husband is a hunter. He comes from a long line of them. So does his son. So does his nephews. 

We eat what he brings home. It is the way it is.

Keep on Trucking

 We have had a lot of company in for dinner in the past two weeks. Tim and I were trying to tot it all up this afternoon. It came up to five dinners, which doesn't seem like a lot actually, but I guess that tossing a wedding and a funeral on there makes it seem like more.

Anyways, we had three coming yesterday for supper. It was an easy one. William was here for the weekend and Tim's brother was coming with his two teenagers. We decided on burgers and fries.

It was to be a special night. The youngest nephew, (14) did not have a deer rifle of his own. Tim had bought a gun for William a couple years back, but William decided he was not a hunter. (That's fine.) Tim went back and got the Mossberg, still in the box, two boxes of ammo. 

The brothers were deep in discussion. The gun is a youth model which can grow by lengthening the stock. The decision was made that it would be a good gun for the boy.

Tim said, 'Take it and give it to him.'

His brother made shocked, sputtering noises. 

Tim said, 'No. I am giving it to him.'

After some back and forth, it was agreed to on one condition. He would bring the boys back, and Tim would do the presenting. 

We decided on Saturday. They would come for supper and then do some target shooting after. Tim could give the boy the gun then.

It has been a busy week, but Saturday finally rolled around. I had to run William in to town to maximize his time with his other grandfather who was headed back to Michigan after breakfast.

Once back home, I made two pumpkin pies from the pumpkins I had roasted and cut up earlier. I popped them in the oven and they came put perfectly, if I do say so myself. 

T minus 40 minutes: I turned on the oven to airfry and popped in a large sheet of french fries. I efficiently put 9 Angus patties on a rack to thaw slightly before popping them in the oven. I put the buns on a platter and set them on the stove where the fan was blowing warm air from the oven. I tore some lettuce. I grabbed a jar of pickles and an onion from the pantry and set them on the counter with a tomato.  I set up the mixer and started the whipped cream for the pie and then efficiently turned my attention to the slicing the tomato and onion. 

I mean, it was a perfectly synchronized operation right up to the very moment that I grabbed the knife in an absent minded way and sliced my finger.

Good grief what a mess. I bolted for the bathroom with my hand wrapped in a kitchen towel. I could not get it to stop bleeding. Tim helped me bandage it tightly, but that took a bit because the dressing soaked through twice.

Long story shot, my fries and burgers got too done. My whipped cream was on the verge of turning onto sweet butter. Tim hacked the tomato and onion in a careless way.

So much for efficiency.

But the youngest boy was thrilled with the gun. He scampered up to the house to show me the hole he'd put in an empty soda can.

The funniest part was this though. The oldest boy is driving now. He wants a truck. He was mourning the fact that even trucks in horrible shape are going for exorbitant money. 

Tim said. "I have a truck that needs some body work to pass inspection. Mechanically, it is sound."

The boy got such a hopeful look. 

So they were pulling on boots and grabbing jackets. William and the youngest were deep in conversation about VR while being totally disconnected from reality. I don't believe they even noticed.

Tim came back in alone. He had sent the two of them off to take it for a drive. He was deep in thought when they returned.  

The young man stood nervously with his hands in his pockets. His father stood by silently letting his son make the deal. The boy stammered a little as he said. "Would you take $1400?"

Tim said, "$500." He had already made up his mind not to charge him any more than what the boy could make back if he decided to scrap it. 

The boy went slack jawed and his eyes bugged. It tickled Tim to see his hand instantly flash out his pocket to shake on the deal.

And so the deal was struck. He brought his mother and the money back tonight, even though Tim said that there was no reason to do that. I think he wanted to take her for a ride in his truck. 

We will drop the truck off at his father's welding shop tomorrow, so that he can begin working on it after school. He won't be able to get his license until December, but the notary work will be done this week. 

He is thrilled. We have one less truck here, a win-win situation if ever was one.

One Funeral and a Wedding

 It has been a busy past few days. My daughter and her long time fella got married. It was a small affair at the JP's office, but we wanted it to be special. I think it was.

Her father drove in from Michigan. Tim and I were the other two attendees. We decided to have a nice dinner out afterwards. 

I got a bouquet of flowers for Brianna and made boutonnieres for Don and William, who had suits for the occasion. William was the ring bearer.

I wanted a small cake too, snd the young girl who did the decorating understood the assignment, e en tough the don't make wedding cakes.  They had no toppers, but I went back to the Christmas aisle and got a dated wedding ornament for their tree. I was very disappointed not to find a little bride and groom, but it just is what it is.

 When I stopped in the next morning to pick up the cake, the same young woman was there. She said, 'the cake turned out so beautiful!'  

I took the pasteboard box from her and said, 'You know what?  I had no doubts that it would be.' When we opened up the box later, everyone ooh'd and ah'd. It really was perfect. 

Behind it, you will see William. He was pranking his aunts and uncle. He had ordered a root beer and was delighted to see it looked like an actual beer bottle.

(No actual alcohol consumed.)

The ceremony was done in short order. William produced the rings on cue. Promises made. 

We tried to get pictures afterwards, but the wind picked up and a cold rain started, so between us all, we only got a hundred or so.

We went to the restaurant and had a good meal. The restaurant is noted for their fish and seafood as well as their steak. I think everyone ended up with some version of seafood, but there was a lot of joy and chatter, so...I forget.

In the end, two people were married. That is the most important thing.

I would have forgotten the funeral in all the hubbub. Lester wasn't related, really, but he was a good, good man that our family claimed, the grandfather of some of my nieces and nephews. Much beloved.  There will be an empty plate at the Thanksgiving table this year, and we will all feel his absence. I am glad my sister reminded me of it. Tim and I went flying in at the last minute, but we made it.

This morning, I stopped in to thank the cake decorator. In an interested voice, she asked, "Was the celebration special? Were you able to find a topper?"  I was really touched. I told her that everyone was delighted with her work. 

Ii guess the only other thing of note is that last night we went to an historic theater to see the 1931 versions of Frankenstein with Boris Karlov and Dracula with Bela Lugosi. William commented that the special effects were pretty cheesy. We all laughed as we explained to him that in 1931, movies with sound were still a novelty. The special effects were, for their time, cutting edge.

This is a pretty disjointed post, but it has been a pretty disjointed few days.

First World Problem

 I have a husband who can't miss a meal. In fact, if a meal is late, it might be the end of him.

The most frustrating thing about him is that he can eat pure crap and it does not affect his A1C, his cholesterol or his weight.

There is no justice in this.

So today, we had to go into town. We got another load of stuff from the old house, to include the mirror to the marble topped dresser. 

It was about to rain, so we needed to get that load home, but it was a few minutes past noon, and Tim was on his death bed, so we went to McDonald's so that he could get a meal to go. 

I got my standard order which is one large unsweetened iced tea, extra ice, double lemon.

While I was not staring death in the eye, I was thirsty, and so when my drink came. I took a big swig and it was sweet tea. 

So I got out of the truck and went in and explained the situation. She apologized and I gave her the order again: large unsweetened tea with extra ice and double lemon. She repeated after me: one unsweetened iced tea with extra ice and lemonade. 

'No,' I said. 'No lemonade at all. Just one large unsweetened tea, lots of ice. Two slices of lemon.'

'No lemonade? Just lemon?'

'Yes,' I said. 

She was gone an awful long time for just getting a drink, but I waited. I mean, unlike Tim, I was not having a near death experience.

But eventually, she came out with a big smile...and handed me a 'large unsweetened iced tea, extra ice, lemonade.'

I said. 'I didn't want lemonade...' and she went wide eyed. 'Oh my gosh. I did it again.'

I waited once again. She returned with my cup. It had my lemons, but she forgot the ice of all things.

I wasn't dying, but I was thirsty, so I took it and left. By the time I got back to the truck, Tim was nearly finished with his meal.

Motorhead

 Tim got his 'new' old truck a few weeks back. My suggestion was to get a newer truck without mechanical problems but he really wanted this truck. He wanted it so badly that he did not bother to discuss it. He just hopped in his car and drove an hour and a half. 

He came back a few hours later and told me he bought the truck. He raved about how great of shape the body was in. The truck was from California. The underneath was solid. The fellow had put new fenders on it. The guy knew how to do bodywork the right way.

I was not fooled. I said, 'How does it run, though?' 

He gave the not too reassuring response: 'No way to know that until I drive it a while.'

The thoughts I thought are best left unshared.

And sure enough, driving the truck home he discovered 'a bug'. It gave a little jerk from time to time. He was pretty sure it was no big deal. the truck did not stall out or anything. He dragged his little code reader out of its little suitcase and got a read out that indicated oxygen sensors. 

So he sent off to Rock Auto and got all new oxygen sensors. While he was at it, he got a fuel pump for the 'last' old truck. 

When everything arrived, he replaced the oxygen sensors. 

The truck still jerked from time to time. So he got the idea to replace the fuel filter. Still there was that jerk. Not bad. It always started. In never stalled out. He decided to put the fuel pump that he'd gotten for the 'last' old truck on the new old truck (they are the same year.) 

After several hours of work, he started it up and honest to Pete, it sounded worse than ever. When he came into the house, I said, 'I am sorry...' but ever the optimist, he said, 'it is a lot easier to diagnose a problem if the vehicle does it all the time,' and back he went to the internet to study the situation some more.

So far he has replaced the cam sensor, the crankshaft sensor, the rotor something or another and the spark plugs. Probably not in that order. If I got something messed up, it is because I do a lot of 'nod and smile' when he explains. In 27 years of marriage, he has not noticed that I could not care less.

If Glen Moon was here, I am certain that the two of them would happily spend hours down in the garage. Bless their hearts. So Mary, if your husband has any ideas, pass them along. 

The good news is that he bought another fuel pump for the last old truck and got it installed while he was waiting for another shipment from Rock Auto. That truck runs perfectly at least. 

I will give the man credit: he has an awful lot of patience with his tinkering. I would have run the thing off a cliff by now.

Actually, that is not true. I would have spent the money to get a newer truck. Even though "it is all computerized and has to be taken in to be repaired because it is all a plot to move vehicle repairs from a home garage to dealerships."

Anyways. Steve Reed showed a picture of his flowering cactus. 

This is my great grandmother's cactus. Then my grandma got it. Then my mother got it. Then I got it. After 10 years in my care, it inexplicably began to die. I felt terrible about it. After reading and trying everything, I gave up. I just set the dead plant out in the unheated mudroom for the winter meaning to dump the dirt in the garden in the spring and save the pot for something that was willing to put more effort into living.

And in the spring, when I was pulling out all the dead growth, square in the middle of the pot was the tiniest bit of green. It was brought back inside and despite my tender care, it lived.

I finally moved it from the old house, where it has been sitting alone and neglected since July. Proving once again it doesn't need any help from me, thank you very much, it was covered in blossoms.

You know what doesn't thrive on neglect? Trucks. Just a thing I noticed.

Invisible People

 It was a windy day today, a cool and cloudy day, getting only to the mid fifties. Autumn. I had plenty to do inside, and so I spent the day doing it. 

We had company yesterday. Remember those scalloped potatoes? I was so sure they were not going to be any good, so, last minute, I threw together some instant mashed potatoes. But lo, they were good and the mashed potatoes were not touched. 

I was pondering supper, and decided on a cottage pie to use up that bowl of mashed potatoes. I  grabbed a package of chopped venison out of the freezer. I used my dehydrated vegetables again, and also chopped up some other vegetables that just needed to be gone. 

I invited my brother in law and sister over for supper even though it was late notice. It was such an awfully big casserole, the one I bake lasagna in. There was plenty. 

Luckily.

An old friend stopped in. I haven't seen him in a couple years and was shocked at his appearance. He is so gaunt and frail that it really pained me to see him. 

An extra plate was quickly set at the table. He ate very slowly but listened to the conversation around him with interest. He had a wheat roll with a helping of pumpkin butter. I was secretly happy to see him take a second. 

I was not the only one surprised at our friend's appearance. In private, my brother-in-law said he would have never known him. My sister said she didn't know who he was until he spoke. His voice is unchanged.

Afterwards, when it was just him and us, I asked him flat out what was going on,  that his gaunt  appearance was a bit of a shock.

He denied that he was sick, but did admit to just being tired. Everything takes him longer. He sometimes forgets to eat. Other times he is just too tired to figure out what to have for supper. Tim said "Give him the leftovers from supper." 

It was not a whole lot, but he could get a couple meals out of it. I went to the freezer and got a small loaf of whole grain bread. I took a container of apple sauce too. I brought it upstairs and cut a quarter of an apple pie.

I showed him how to make refrigerator oats. He actually pulled out a pen, and wrote the directions down. I told him that he could make up a weeks worth, and just add milk to one of them each evening, let it sit overnight in the fridge, nuke it for 30 seconds and then add milk and honey to taste, and there was breakfast. 

We both lectured him the kindest way we knew how, and sent him out the door with a standing invitation for supper. We did get a for-sure-and- certain promise that he would come next Wednesday. 

Tim and I are pretty rattled by this. He is an old friend. He used to come eat with us a couple times a week, but he got quite offended that we were not MAGA. He had tried his best to convert us. We finally had to tell him we did not want to discuss politics. He was angry, left the house and never came back.

He was always a talker. A hard worker, a machinist like Tim. A hunter. Cuts and hauls his own firewood to store for winter. A lifelong batchelor. he was all of those things, but now he is an invisible person, an elderly man alone, becoming increasingly unable to manage. I imagine there are many people like him. 

I am not sure why he decided to drop in tonight, but we are both sure glad he did.