Here I set, watching the evening news, candles lit, jack-o-lanterns glowing, waiting. Candy is a little too close for comfort, but what you going to do. I need it close by in case we have a little gobblin or two. Earlier we had Darth Vadar and a Star Wars character who had somehow taken over our grandsons' bodies. They acted like normal Earthlings so we let them in.
One of my sisters loves Halloween. She loves the macabre; the scary ghost stories fill her with delight. But to be truthful, she is in her element the entire months of September, October, and November. She has been looking for the words of a song which is set to the music of the "Hall of the Mountain King" that she sung in choir back in the day. B, I think I may have found them for you and I sure hope that these are the words that you remember. If not, we will keep searching. Happy Halloween. Love you all!!
For you B. Lyrics written by Albert Gamse who also wrote the words to "Hail to the Chief" and several others, sung to the theme from “In The Hall of the Mountain King” from the Peer Gynt Suite by Grieg. You will find an orchestra version by the Lawrence Welk Band at this website. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jr0FH6F5qvg&feature=related
On October thirty one, when the sun goes to rest.
It’s the night of Halloween when fun is at its best,
Black cats, ghosts, and princess fair,
Holding hands everywhere,
It’s the night of Halloween –
There’s magic in the air!
Witch’s shadow on the moon,
Casting spells, flying her broom,
It’s the night of Halloween -
Quick! Change to your costume!
“H – A – double L – O – W – double E – N” spells Halloween,
“H – A – double L – O – W – double E – N” spells Halloween!
Halloween means ghosts & goblins,
Skeletons, monsters, & howling cats,
Spooky masks & jack-o-lanterns,
Witches & devils & big, black bats!
“H – A – double L – O – W – double E – N” spells Halloween,
“H – A – double L – O – W – double E – N” spells Halloween!
Halloween means ringing doorbells,
Scaring the people who open the door.
“Trick or treat” gets you candy and apples,
Then go to the next house and get some more.
“H – A – double L – O – W – double E – N” spells Halloween,
“H – A – double L – O – W – double E – N” spells Halloween!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jr0FH6F5qvg&feature=related
Monday, October 31, 2011
Friday, October 28, 2011
Aunt Betty's Peanut Brittle
I attended my Aunt Betty's funeral today. As a tribute to her I am posing her recipe for peanut brittle. This is the recipe I have used for 40 years and it always turns out beautiful.
1 1/2 cups sugar
3/4 cup water
1/2 cup Karo white syrup
Cook until hard ball forms. Stir in 1 1/2 cup raw peanuts and cook until they begin to pop and turn a little brown. Remove from heat and quickly stir in 1 teaspoon vanilla and 1 teaspoon baking soda. It will foam and scorch really fast so be quick. Pour into buttered baking pan. Sprinkle with a dash of salt and break when cool.
Thanks for the recipe Aunt Betty.
1 1/2 cups sugar
3/4 cup water
1/2 cup Karo white syrup
Cook until hard ball forms. Stir in 1 1/2 cup raw peanuts and cook until they begin to pop and turn a little brown. Remove from heat and quickly stir in 1 teaspoon vanilla and 1 teaspoon baking soda. It will foam and scorch really fast so be quick. Pour into buttered baking pan. Sprinkle with a dash of salt and break when cool.
Thanks for the recipe Aunt Betty.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Tattoos - Tats to Those in the Groove
OK, I am at the age where I can rant or rave at whelm and everyone will just attribute my mood swings to age. I am now working on my third cup of coffee and I am in the groove. Bet you haven't heard that word since 1976. Coffee under my belt, pen to paper, here goes my rant on tats. I wonder why tattooed people seem to have this need to desecrate their bodies. Did they not get enough attention on their kindergarten art work? Did Mom forget to put it on the frig?
What brings tats to the forefront of my mind is the scary sight I saw yesterday - maybe not scary, but questionable judgement. I am questioning the judgement of all these tattoos. I just don't get it. It isn't that I am a prude, a little old-fashioned maybe, but I try to keep my mind open to new things. While waiting at a stop light, I noticed a pretty young lady, probably in her early 20s, with a fairly good sized solid black tattoo on the inside of her wrist. She was wearing a pretty bracelet, too. Now.... she can take off the bracelet, can go bracelet-less, and can wear a half dozen bracelets if she wants, but she canNOT take off the tattoo. It is there forever and ever and ever. When she is 65 and goes to her granddaughter's wedding, she will be wearing that tattoo.
Will this young woman and all the millions of others with ink all over their bodies look at their new borns and say "We've got to get that perfect soft skin covered up with ink. Get the Magic Markers and let's mark him up. No, I've got a better idea. Let's get needles and some ink, and it really will be forEVer. Yeah, let's do it."? I think some really do think that. Isn't that sad?
To all my tattooed friends, you have every right to do what you will to your bodies. I have no problem with that. I just don't see the logic in it, but that's just me. I have never seen a tattoo that makes anybody look better, not even permanent eyeliner or lipstain. I will probably never tell you that your tattoo is pretty, or even nice, but you have a right to do it.
My thoughts keep coming back to this. I think (and hope) that tattoos are just a fad. If I am right and they are a fad, what are they going to do? They are stuck! They are stuck in bell bottoms even if bell bottoms have been out of style for 40 years. They are stuck with that stupid dragon, heart, verse, whatever! on their bodies forEVer. If you have or get a tattoo, I may question your judgement, BUT I will still love you ForEVer.
What brings tats to the forefront of my mind is the scary sight I saw yesterday - maybe not scary, but questionable judgement. I am questioning the judgement of all these tattoos. I just don't get it. It isn't that I am a prude, a little old-fashioned maybe, but I try to keep my mind open to new things. While waiting at a stop light, I noticed a pretty young lady, probably in her early 20s, with a fairly good sized solid black tattoo on the inside of her wrist. She was wearing a pretty bracelet, too. Now.... she can take off the bracelet, can go bracelet-less, and can wear a half dozen bracelets if she wants, but she canNOT take off the tattoo. It is there forever and ever and ever. When she is 65 and goes to her granddaughter's wedding, she will be wearing that tattoo.
Will this young woman and all the millions of others with ink all over their bodies look at their new borns and say "We've got to get that perfect soft skin covered up with ink. Get the Magic Markers and let's mark him up. No, I've got a better idea. Let's get needles and some ink, and it really will be forEVer. Yeah, let's do it."? I think some really do think that. Isn't that sad?
To all my tattooed friends, you have every right to do what you will to your bodies. I have no problem with that. I just don't see the logic in it, but that's just me. I have never seen a tattoo that makes anybody look better, not even permanent eyeliner or lipstain. I will probably never tell you that your tattoo is pretty, or even nice, but you have a right to do it.
My thoughts keep coming back to this. I think (and hope) that tattoos are just a fad. If I am right and they are a fad, what are they going to do? They are stuck! They are stuck in bell bottoms even if bell bottoms have been out of style for 40 years. They are stuck with that stupid dragon, heart, verse, whatever! on their bodies forEVer. If you have or get a tattoo, I may question your judgement, BUT I will still love you ForEVer.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Santa says, "Trick or Treat!"
How do you know when it is getting close to Halloween? After the Christmas decorations have been up for a couple of weeks, that's when! Seriously, do they go up earlier every year? Nope, they do not. We like to think they do because we like to gripe about it (senior citizens get a free pass when it comes to griping), but as far back as I can remember, and kids I can remember when I was 2 years old!!, the artificial Christmas trees go up right after the back to school mania wanes. And by the way while I am griping, why do the kids have to see back to school commercials at the end of June?
Regardless of how early Christmas decorations are displayed, Halloween seems to be getting its fair amount of attention. Can it be that in the last ten years, Halloween decorations, food ideas, costumes, and parties have grown ten fold? It sure seems that way to me. One day last week I heard that Halloween is the new Christmas in so far as how it affects our pocketbooks. Sorry to say, my little goblins, that isn't true for me. I buy you one five-pound bag of good candy bars early in October. I have to buy that much to fill up my traditional trick or treat bowl -- part of my October decorations. Bad mistake! Bad mistake! Too easy to grab a piece once in a while, like........hmmm.....OK I admit it, five times a day. By the night of Halloween, I usually have half a bowl of candy left for my 0 (ZERO) Trick or Treaters. That's right. We have no Trick or Treaters. My grandboys used to come when they were smaller, but when they realized that they could trick or treat in their own neighborhood and gets lots more candy, Nana's was out.
Even though nobody comes to our house, by about 5:00 I start to get excited.....I light my jack-o-lantern, put the candy bowl by the door, light my pumpkin spice candles, and keep my porch light on. And wait....
Now I think I will start griping about how Thanksgiving gets the short end of the stick. (Do you know where "short end of the stick" comes from?)
Santa says, "Trick or Treat!"
Fact: Midwest City's lights are up right now...not lit, but up ready to turn on. As much as I like to gripe about it, I kind of like it, too. It is my favorite holiday, with Thanksgiving right behind.
Regardless of how early Christmas decorations are displayed, Halloween seems to be getting its fair amount of attention. Can it be that in the last ten years, Halloween decorations, food ideas, costumes, and parties have grown ten fold? It sure seems that way to me. One day last week I heard that Halloween is the new Christmas in so far as how it affects our pocketbooks. Sorry to say, my little goblins, that isn't true for me. I buy you one five-pound bag of good candy bars early in October. I have to buy that much to fill up my traditional trick or treat bowl -- part of my October decorations. Bad mistake! Bad mistake! Too easy to grab a piece once in a while, like........hmmm.....OK I admit it, five times a day. By the night of Halloween, I usually have half a bowl of candy left for my 0 (ZERO) Trick or Treaters. That's right. We have no Trick or Treaters. My grandboys used to come when they were smaller, but when they realized that they could trick or treat in their own neighborhood and gets lots more candy, Nana's was out.
Even though nobody comes to our house, by about 5:00 I start to get excited.....I light my jack-o-lantern, put the candy bowl by the door, light my pumpkin spice candles, and keep my porch light on. And wait....
Now I think I will start griping about how Thanksgiving gets the short end of the stick. (Do you know where "short end of the stick" comes from?)
Santa says, "Trick or Treat!"
Fact: Midwest City's lights are up right now...not lit, but up ready to turn on. As much as I like to gripe about it, I kind of like it, too. It is my favorite holiday, with Thanksgiving right behind.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Quiet Restaurants
Have you ever longed for a quiet restaurant reminiscent of the 70s? Remember those? The ones that were dimly lit, candles glowing on the tables, light jazz playing softly through the speakers, or better yet, a jazz combo playing just a few feet away. It wasn't just eating out, it was dining and dining meant romance. It was magical, something special. Something that you didn't do every other night of the week like people do these days. Drive down any "restaurant row" on a Tuesday night and you will see that eating out isn't the special dining experience it was then.
Those romantic places are almost all gone and I miss them, but now and again you will find one like we did recently. Jamil's in Oklahoma City. What a throw back to the 70s. Food was good, but not extra-ordinary, but the dark walls, the piped music, and quietness of the place sent me right back to the 70s. Good times, great people.
Maybe I miss more than the restaurants; maybe I miss me, the 23 year old young woman who was just beginning her life. I think maybe I know what I miss the most. I miss the naivete I once had. I didn't know what life held for me, but I was sure it was all good. And it is........... Love ya.
Those romantic places are almost all gone and I miss them, but now and again you will find one like we did recently. Jamil's in Oklahoma City. What a throw back to the 70s. Food was good, but not extra-ordinary, but the dark walls, the piped music, and quietness of the place sent me right back to the 70s. Good times, great people.
Maybe I miss more than the restaurants; maybe I miss me, the 23 year old young woman who was just beginning her life. I think maybe I know what I miss the most. I miss the naivete I once had. I didn't know what life held for me, but I was sure it was all good. And it is........... Love ya.
Monday, October 24, 2011
11 Table Manners That Still Matter
I found this article today printed by the Reader's Digest, October 19, 2011. I just love these 11 manners and thought you would like to have a refresher in table manners with me. You know me, I have a few choice comments to go along them.
11 Table Manners That Still Matter
•If you are the recipient of a toast, keep your glass at arm’s length—never drink from it. Instead, simply nod your head and graciously say, “Thank you.” (I didn't know this - not that anyone has ever toasted me, but I am going to keep it mind for future reference just in case. You just never know when someone will be tipsy enough to raise their glass in my honor and I will want to do what's right!)
•Never take your cocktail to the dinner table. (Back in the day, when I was traveling and going to dinner with contractors {oh I hated those dinners, making nice for hours when all I wanted to do was go back to my hotel, take a hot bath, grab my paperback and jump in bed--at 6:00 p.m. - now back on subject}, most would take their cocktails to the dinner table when a table came up. They were not going to waste a drop of that $12 drink.)
•Allow your food to cool on its own—never blow on anything. (Author obviously never had toddlers clamoring for food and worse yet just whining. I say just throw those kids a biscuit and by the time it flies through the air, it will be cool enough to stop the whining. Are we at McDonald's?)
•If you wear lipstick, keep it off your plate and napkin by blotting it as soon as you apply it. (This is something of which I am guilty. I never blot my lipstick so I often find my glass with lipstick on it. I hold my glass or cup with my right hand and use my thumb to discretely wipe the lipstick off. The dishwasher will thank you.)
•Your napkin is there for you to dab your mouth only. Do not use it to wipe off lipstick or (God forbid) blow your nose. (Now this just blows me away, no pun intended. This is going to just make you ill, but I have actually seen some people blow their nose with a napkin, a CLOTH napkin! Gross!!! You got it from Reader's Digest and you are getting it from me, a napkin, even a paper napkin, is NOT to be used as your personal tissue AND if I had it my way, you would excuse yourself to the restroom to blow that schnoz. And if you cannot reasonably get away from the table, turn your head away from the table, or climb under the table, to gently dab at your nose. No honking please!!!!)
•Keep your elbows off the table at all times. (Have you been in Oklahoma? This is just impossible to do. You gotta get comfy.
•Don’t put your purse, keys, sunglasses, or eyeglasses on the table. (So you put them on the floor out of sight, out of sight where you don't notice that your purse is now soaking up spilled Coke. Oh wait, maybe they are not talking about McDonald's. And where is the rule about the cell phones? Remember my ranting post about that a few weeks ago?)
•Take food out of your mouth the way it went in. If a piece of steak fat went into your mouth with a fork, spit it out onto the fork. (This one is the funniest ever. Now I ask you, have you ever, ever, ever in your life seen anyone removed a piece of fat, or anything for that matter, from their mouth spitting it back on the fork?? That would just be wrong! And gross!! And in full view of anyone looking your way at a glob of fat on a fork coming out of your mouth! Go under the table and spit it on the floor! Grandkids - I am just teasing!!! But this brings up an interesting subject because I always thought you should put your napkin to your mouth and as discretely as possible, spit it in your napkin. By discretely, I would hope you could somehow wait till your dining partners had their eyes averted. Throw that biscuit across the room and they will be looking at that instead of the fat coming out of your mouth.)
•Remove an olive pit with your thumb and index finger. (Oh come on, not on the fork? I have kind of gotten into that now.)
•Taste everything on your plate before you add salt or pepper. (I agree. Nothing irritates your hostess like salting everything before you taste a bite. We have that pasta perfect and seeing it go down the Dead Sea disturbs me--oops--us.
•Leave your plate where it is when you are finished with your meal—don’t push it away from you. (Not unless you are getting ready to change the baby's diaper. Oops, again, I keep forgetting we are not at McDonald's.)
Please forgive me for having so much fun with this blog. I was needing to have a little fun. Things are kind of crazy with me and I am a little bummed. If you are reading this, thanks! Love to all.
11 Table Manners That Still Matter
•If you are the recipient of a toast, keep your glass at arm’s length—never drink from it. Instead, simply nod your head and graciously say, “Thank you.” (I didn't know this - not that anyone has ever toasted me, but I am going to keep it mind for future reference just in case. You just never know when someone will be tipsy enough to raise their glass in my honor and I will want to do what's right!)
•Never take your cocktail to the dinner table. (Back in the day, when I was traveling and going to dinner with contractors {oh I hated those dinners, making nice for hours when all I wanted to do was go back to my hotel, take a hot bath, grab my paperback and jump in bed--at 6:00 p.m. - now back on subject}, most would take their cocktails to the dinner table when a table came up. They were not going to waste a drop of that $12 drink.)
•Allow your food to cool on its own—never blow on anything. (Author obviously never had toddlers clamoring for food and worse yet just whining. I say just throw those kids a biscuit and by the time it flies through the air, it will be cool enough to stop the whining. Are we at McDonald's?)
•If you wear lipstick, keep it off your plate and napkin by blotting it as soon as you apply it. (This is something of which I am guilty. I never blot my lipstick so I often find my glass with lipstick on it. I hold my glass or cup with my right hand and use my thumb to discretely wipe the lipstick off. The dishwasher will thank you.)
•Your napkin is there for you to dab your mouth only. Do not use it to wipe off lipstick or (God forbid) blow your nose. (Now this just blows me away, no pun intended. This is going to just make you ill, but I have actually seen some people blow their nose with a napkin, a CLOTH napkin! Gross!!! You got it from Reader's Digest and you are getting it from me, a napkin, even a paper napkin, is NOT to be used as your personal tissue AND if I had it my way, you would excuse yourself to the restroom to blow that schnoz. And if you cannot reasonably get away from the table, turn your head away from the table, or climb under the table, to gently dab at your nose. No honking please!!!!)
•Keep your elbows off the table at all times. (Have you been in Oklahoma? This is just impossible to do. You gotta get comfy.
•Don’t put your purse, keys, sunglasses, or eyeglasses on the table. (So you put them on the floor out of sight, out of sight where you don't notice that your purse is now soaking up spilled Coke. Oh wait, maybe they are not talking about McDonald's. And where is the rule about the cell phones? Remember my ranting post about that a few weeks ago?)
•Take food out of your mouth the way it went in. If a piece of steak fat went into your mouth with a fork, spit it out onto the fork. (This one is the funniest ever. Now I ask you, have you ever, ever, ever in your life seen anyone removed a piece of fat, or anything for that matter, from their mouth spitting it back on the fork?? That would just be wrong! And gross!! And in full view of anyone looking your way at a glob of fat on a fork coming out of your mouth! Go under the table and spit it on the floor! Grandkids - I am just teasing!!! But this brings up an interesting subject because I always thought you should put your napkin to your mouth and as discretely as possible, spit it in your napkin. By discretely, I would hope you could somehow wait till your dining partners had their eyes averted. Throw that biscuit across the room and they will be looking at that instead of the fat coming out of your mouth.)
•Remove an olive pit with your thumb and index finger. (Oh come on, not on the fork? I have kind of gotten into that now.)
•Taste everything on your plate before you add salt or pepper. (I agree. Nothing irritates your hostess like salting everything before you taste a bite. We have that pasta perfect and seeing it go down the Dead Sea disturbs me--oops--us.
•Leave your plate where it is when you are finished with your meal—don’t push it away from you. (Not unless you are getting ready to change the baby's diaper. Oops, again, I keep forgetting we are not at McDonald's.)
Please forgive me for having so much fun with this blog. I was needing to have a little fun. Things are kind of crazy with me and I am a little bummed. If you are reading this, thanks! Love to all.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
I Need You to Come Down Here
"I need you to come down here. Truck lights won't work."
"O" (phone hangs up) "K..........".
That is the extent of my dad's phone call to our home no matter if I answered or if my hubby answered. He wasn't much on words. They sort of were a waste of time to him when he was busy in the peanut field. Well.......that is my excuse for him, but in reality no matter what the situation was, the phone was only a tool for him, certainly not for entertainment. I think he must have believed that if you wanted to visit, you would do it in person.
Dad had a couple of old, old, old, old (did I say old?) trucks that were only used at peanut harvest time. They sat at the edge of the field year round. In late September/early October Mom and Dad would start checking them out; putting the tags on and seeing if they were going to start. Invariably they wouldn't, but that would usually be an easy fix. Just buy a new cheap battery--remember the trucks were only used for one month and then they rested for another eleven. New battery every year is cheap maintenance.
Now here is where my hubby comes in. Hubby is known for diagnosing all sorts of auto ails so he was the go-to man for Daddy when it came to those trucks. Would you believe that every!!! year those trucks' lights would NOT work. How can that be? They were left at the edge of the field. Surely mice could not find their way to the trucks. Surely they wouldn't have the audacity to actually nest in the truck---in the dead of winter---snow on the ground---18 degree nights---for 30 days in a row---would they???? Awww, surely not! Slap me up side the head! Would they chew the wiring? Would they drag what seemed to be miles of wiring to their nest? You think not?? Aw, but they are cunning little creatures.
Dad's remedy: Call my hubby and have him rewire the trucks...and every year he would do just that. It was a lot easier on everyone if they just ran new wiring. All they wanted to do is to get the lights to work, especially the brake lights for nothing gets a cop's attention faster than an old farm truck on I-40 loaded to the gills with peanuts. Add non-working tails lights and you are really in trouble. Hence, run miles and miles of new wiring each year. Problem solved for another year.
Now that those days are over, and peanuts are no longer harvester in our area of the state, and Daddy is gone, we look back with fond memories. Wasn't nearly as much fun back when....when we had to stop what we were doing and head to Prague on the spur of the moment. I would love to get one of those cryptic phone calls just once again and jump in the car for a quick trip to see my parents.
Memory: Back in 1999, I took an electronic course at the local vo-tech and would work in a call to my parents on my drive back home. Dad would answer and as soon as he said hello and heard my voice, he'd pass the phone to my mom without so much as a "Here's your mom." That was about 12 years ago......time passes so fast........... I need for you to come down here.
"O" (phone hangs up) "K..........".
That is the extent of my dad's phone call to our home no matter if I answered or if my hubby answered. He wasn't much on words. They sort of were a waste of time to him when he was busy in the peanut field. Well.......that is my excuse for him, but in reality no matter what the situation was, the phone was only a tool for him, certainly not for entertainment. I think he must have believed that if you wanted to visit, you would do it in person.
Dad had a couple of old, old, old, old (did I say old?) trucks that were only used at peanut harvest time. They sat at the edge of the field year round. In late September/early October Mom and Dad would start checking them out; putting the tags on and seeing if they were going to start. Invariably they wouldn't, but that would usually be an easy fix. Just buy a new cheap battery--remember the trucks were only used for one month and then they rested for another eleven. New battery every year is cheap maintenance.
Now here is where my hubby comes in. Hubby is known for diagnosing all sorts of auto ails so he was the go-to man for Daddy when it came to those trucks. Would you believe that every!!! year those trucks' lights would NOT work. How can that be? They were left at the edge of the field. Surely mice could not find their way to the trucks. Surely they wouldn't have the audacity to actually nest in the truck---in the dead of winter---snow on the ground---18 degree nights---for 30 days in a row---would they???? Awww, surely not! Slap me up side the head! Would they chew the wiring? Would they drag what seemed to be miles of wiring to their nest? You think not?? Aw, but they are cunning little creatures.
Dad's remedy: Call my hubby and have him rewire the trucks...and every year he would do just that. It was a lot easier on everyone if they just ran new wiring. All they wanted to do is to get the lights to work, especially the brake lights for nothing gets a cop's attention faster than an old farm truck on I-40 loaded to the gills with peanuts. Add non-working tails lights and you are really in trouble. Hence, run miles and miles of new wiring each year. Problem solved for another year.
Now that those days are over, and peanuts are no longer harvester in our area of the state, and Daddy is gone, we look back with fond memories. Wasn't nearly as much fun back when....when we had to stop what we were doing and head to Prague on the spur of the moment. I would love to get one of those cryptic phone calls just once again and jump in the car for a quick trip to see my parents.
Memory: Back in 1999, I took an electronic course at the local vo-tech and would work in a call to my parents on my drive back home. Dad would answer and as soon as he said hello and heard my voice, he'd pass the phone to my mom without so much as a "Here's your mom." That was about 12 years ago......time passes so fast........... I need for you to come down here.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Where Do You Draw the Line?
Have you ever been inhibited by a shopping experience? My daughter and I went in a shop today where everything we looked at had three digits and I am not counting the digits to the right of the decimal point. We kind of moseyed around and found some really cute things, but nothing that was what we considered "worth the price". No values were found and certainly no bargains. In fact, we wondered if they ever ran a sale.
One cotton button down woman's shirt had a price tag of $295.00. It was nothing special; not made in the USA so what constituted the price (not that made in the USA would be justification for that kind of price)? Was it the label which, by the way, wasn't a name I had ever heard of, was it the location of the shop, or was the price just jacked up just so the shop can be considered "upscale"?
Once out of the store, my daughter commented that the place and places like that destroyed her ego. They certainly can put one in one's place. She went on to comment that she felt like they looked at her knowing full well that she couldn't afford to buy anything; then she giggled that she couldn't. When we finally reached the car and drew a breath of normal air, my daughter asked why or how some people can afford or better yet justify spending that kind of money on a shirt when you can get something equally as well made and cute from Gap or Penny's for about $29.00. "Buy the $29 shirt and give the rest to charity", she said.
We had a good discussion while having a happy hour drink at Sonic about how we can justify any of the purchases we make. At what point do you decide that your purchase is of value, a bargain, or justifiable? Do you feel comfortable buying a $125 pair of shoes because they really feel wonderful (and if you have ever had feet trouble, you know that this can be a justifiable means for good shoes)? Do you feel like you would rather pay $25 for a pair knowing that at the end of the season they will be trashed anyway and you can hobble along just find knowing that you have that $100 bill still in your pocket? (By the way, I took those $125 shoes back.) Maybe you really can't afford the higher priced shoes so your decision is easy. You just don't buy them. You may have a hard time justifying even the cheaper pair when you have a couple pairs from last season that will work. (You noticed, folks, that I am not talking about $3000 or even $300 shoes - I cannot even fantasize about those.)
The same can be asked of almost all purchases we make especially women's clothing and makeup. Even grocery items--does the store brand work for you or will you always choose that can from Del Monte? You may have the money for brand names, but always choose the store brands. Do you always choose the higher priced items (grocery to electronics) thinking that you are buying the best? Some people do, you know. They really feel that the highest priced item IS the best.
The whole shopping experience left us with mixed emotions. It is the American dream to be able to make enough money to afford such things found in this shop so I am glad that some can; however, if I personally had that much money, I doubt that I could spend money that way. Perhaps that all stems from the childhood I had; making do--with a touch of frugality mixed in plus a couple dashes of pride.
Where do you draw the line? At what point do you say enough is enough? Are all your purchases the best, are all of your purchases the cheapest, or are you somewhere in between evaluating each purchase on it's own merit. Probably most of us are the latter. We might not pay $40 for a steak, but will pay $100 for shoes OR maybe it might be just the opposite if you are a man who loves his steak. Where do you draw the line?
I have been a little off my game lately, but hope to get back to some fun blog posts soon. Live is good. I hope to have a post about peanut harvest again soon, maybe even tomorrow. Love to all.
One cotton button down woman's shirt had a price tag of $295.00. It was nothing special; not made in the USA so what constituted the price (not that made in the USA would be justification for that kind of price)? Was it the label which, by the way, wasn't a name I had ever heard of, was it the location of the shop, or was the price just jacked up just so the shop can be considered "upscale"?
Once out of the store, my daughter commented that the place and places like that destroyed her ego. They certainly can put one in one's place. She went on to comment that she felt like they looked at her knowing full well that she couldn't afford to buy anything; then she giggled that she couldn't. When we finally reached the car and drew a breath of normal air, my daughter asked why or how some people can afford or better yet justify spending that kind of money on a shirt when you can get something equally as well made and cute from Gap or Penny's for about $29.00. "Buy the $29 shirt and give the rest to charity", she said.
We had a good discussion while having a happy hour drink at Sonic about how we can justify any of the purchases we make. At what point do you decide that your purchase is of value, a bargain, or justifiable? Do you feel comfortable buying a $125 pair of shoes because they really feel wonderful (and if you have ever had feet trouble, you know that this can be a justifiable means for good shoes)? Do you feel like you would rather pay $25 for a pair knowing that at the end of the season they will be trashed anyway and you can hobble along just find knowing that you have that $100 bill still in your pocket? (By the way, I took those $125 shoes back.) Maybe you really can't afford the higher priced shoes so your decision is easy. You just don't buy them. You may have a hard time justifying even the cheaper pair when you have a couple pairs from last season that will work. (You noticed, folks, that I am not talking about $3000 or even $300 shoes - I cannot even fantasize about those.)
The same can be asked of almost all purchases we make especially women's clothing and makeup. Even grocery items--does the store brand work for you or will you always choose that can from Del Monte? You may have the money for brand names, but always choose the store brands. Do you always choose the higher priced items (grocery to electronics) thinking that you are buying the best? Some people do, you know. They really feel that the highest priced item IS the best.
The whole shopping experience left us with mixed emotions. It is the American dream to be able to make enough money to afford such things found in this shop so I am glad that some can; however, if I personally had that much money, I doubt that I could spend money that way. Perhaps that all stems from the childhood I had; making do--with a touch of frugality mixed in plus a couple dashes of pride.
Where do you draw the line? At what point do you say enough is enough? Are all your purchases the best, are all of your purchases the cheapest, or are you somewhere in between evaluating each purchase on it's own merit. Probably most of us are the latter. We might not pay $40 for a steak, but will pay $100 for shoes OR maybe it might be just the opposite if you are a man who loves his steak. Where do you draw the line?
I have been a little off my game lately, but hope to get back to some fun blog posts soon. Live is good. I hope to have a post about peanut harvest again soon, maybe even tomorrow. Love to all.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Boys at Nana's on Fall Break
 |
| Boys, they love treasure maps. |
 |
| And finding deer tracks. |
 |
| And boys love exploring the pond. |
 |
| Boys love looking for treasure with their dog. |
 |
| And pretty yellow leaves. They must be kin to their Nana. |
 |
| Boys love to work their way through dead limbs and brush. Why??!! |
 |
| Boys love to take a walk in the woods with Grandpa, carry huge sticks, and follow treasure maps. |
 |
| Boys look cute just looking at the sky with wonderment. |
 |
| This boy loves his mango juice, just like Grandpa. |
 |
| And this one loves sodas. |
 |
| Oh my, and this one loves to play in Nana's flowers...umm ugghh |
 |
| This boy does this. Makes you kind of sick, huh? Can you do that? |
 |
| This boy tries to do what his big brother does. Can you even do that? |
 |
| And boys look sweet like this. |
 |
| And like this. |
 |
| Throwing these in just for confusion. I love you! |
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
I Love You, A Bushel and a Peck
A couple of weeks ago, the hubby and I drove over to Appletown in Lincoln, AR. It was an absolutely beautiful fall day so we took the convertible and dropped the top when we turned up north from Alma, AR. If you haven't been to Fayetteville, AR, in a while, you would not recognize the place; the city of the University of AR, the hubby's almamater. Fayetteville, Springdale, and Rogers have all grown together into one big metroplex.
Our main objective was to get some apples, and apples we found. We picked up a peck of Jonathan and a peck of Red Delicious, both grown in their orchards. You should pop over to AR to get some apples, but you'd better hurry. The stands usually close by the end of October.
Visiting Appletown is a tradition that goes back to when my kids were little, and having a free glass of their cider was the highlight of their trip. Appletown sure knew what they were doing offering the free cider for everybody has to buy a gallon or two and we were no exception.
Several times we made this same trip with Mom and Dad, but back then we would also include a trip to the restaurant across the road for a sandwich which was priced by the ounce, AND an apple dumpling with a dip of ice cream. Sadly, the place is closed now. What a fun time and lots of good memories for my family of simple pleasures.
You are going to love this. The hubby and I stopped at a local favorite restaurant, the AQ Chicken House, and the chicken was absolutely delicious as usual. Just a few feet from our table were two well dressed men and a woman in, I am guessing, their late 70s or early 80s. The more they talked, the more we started listening. The more they talked, the more our mouths dropped open. Well not really, we just rolled our eyes at each other, and burst out laughing as soon as we hit the door. From them we learned that Prince Charles will not be king of England because his first wife ran around on him and, of course, the monarch can't have that. Also, did you know that when Prince William takes over the throne (remember he will bypass Charles because of his mother) he can take over the government if he wants? Also, Queen Elizabeth can't take over the government because she is a woman and a woman cannot control the government. (This conversation provided us plenty to talk about for the next 30 minutes. And these people have been voting for the last 50 years....go figure!)
Memory: Most of our trips included the Prairie Grove Battlefield, outside Fayetteville; a learning experience for our kids and for me, too, since I sure didn't learn much in History class. On one of our fall foliage trips, we stopped to visit the battlefield, and as we pulled into our parking space, we were shocked to find my brother and his family just on the other side of the fence. They were just as surprised as we were. There were no cell phones back then and neither one of us knew the other was within 400 miles of the place and to both show up at the same exact time was unexpected to say the least.
Note: Bushel and pecks are not in my vocabulary much anymore, but as a former country girl I know what they are, at least. I love you, a bushel and a peck, a bushel and a peck, and a hug around the neck. Here is a Doris Day version of the song mom used to sing to us. I love you, a bushel and a peck. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XNjv1WDGxt8
Our main objective was to get some apples, and apples we found. We picked up a peck of Jonathan and a peck of Red Delicious, both grown in their orchards. You should pop over to AR to get some apples, but you'd better hurry. The stands usually close by the end of October.
Visiting Appletown is a tradition that goes back to when my kids were little, and having a free glass of their cider was the highlight of their trip. Appletown sure knew what they were doing offering the free cider for everybody has to buy a gallon or two and we were no exception.
Several times we made this same trip with Mom and Dad, but back then we would also include a trip to the restaurant across the road for a sandwich which was priced by the ounce, AND an apple dumpling with a dip of ice cream. Sadly, the place is closed now. What a fun time and lots of good memories for my family of simple pleasures.
You are going to love this. The hubby and I stopped at a local favorite restaurant, the AQ Chicken House, and the chicken was absolutely delicious as usual. Just a few feet from our table were two well dressed men and a woman in, I am guessing, their late 70s or early 80s. The more they talked, the more we started listening. The more they talked, the more our mouths dropped open. Well not really, we just rolled our eyes at each other, and burst out laughing as soon as we hit the door. From them we learned that Prince Charles will not be king of England because his first wife ran around on him and, of course, the monarch can't have that. Also, did you know that when Prince William takes over the throne (remember he will bypass Charles because of his mother) he can take over the government if he wants? Also, Queen Elizabeth can't take over the government because she is a woman and a woman cannot control the government. (This conversation provided us plenty to talk about for the next 30 minutes. And these people have been voting for the last 50 years....go figure!)
Memory: Most of our trips included the Prairie Grove Battlefield, outside Fayetteville; a learning experience for our kids and for me, too, since I sure didn't learn much in History class. On one of our fall foliage trips, we stopped to visit the battlefield, and as we pulled into our parking space, we were shocked to find my brother and his family just on the other side of the fence. They were just as surprised as we were. There were no cell phones back then and neither one of us knew the other was within 400 miles of the place and to both show up at the same exact time was unexpected to say the least.
Note: Bushel and pecks are not in my vocabulary much anymore, but as a former country girl I know what they are, at least. I love you, a bushel and a peck, a bushel and a peck, and a hug around the neck. Here is a Doris Day version of the song mom used to sing to us. I love you, a bushel and a peck. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XNjv1WDGxt8
Monday, October 17, 2011
Sing for Me, Mr. C.
Did you go outside today? If you live in Oklahoma, I bet you did. How can anyone resist the beautiful fall weather we have been having lately? Then around 3:00 the front came through and the temperature dropped quickly as often happens in Oklahoma. The change in the weather was my time travel right back to the early 1960s. Such a happy time in my life (but over the last 40 years it has only gotten better). Remember Perry Como on the Kraft Music Show? I was going to marry Perry when I was little, I was just sure of it. He was SOOO cute. I looked forward to his show every week. We all did. It was something we watched as a family; a very wholesome show. Feel good music. Sing for me, Mr. C.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ErbUFICtjcg
Tonight I can see daddy at one end of the couch and mom at the other; daddy with the paper in his hand, nodding off now and again. Mom would would be doing the same thing, nodding off that is - and can you blame her with five kids underfoot? There would usually be one of us kids between them leaning on momma, one of us would have won the coveted recliner and probably three of us would be stretched out on our tummies on the floor, heads propped up with our hands. Probably all of us would be doing our homework. My brother would be begging us girls to hit him in the stomach so he could see just how much pain he could take.
We would glance up at Perry once in a while, but what really got five little heads to bob up were the autumn Kraft commercials. Ed Herlihy was the soothing deep voiced announcer of the live commercials...........oh my he made you want to buy Velveeta...... and Kraft caramels for caramel apples, eat Chez Whiz right out of the jar, and his description of marshmallows salads.....can Thanksgiving get here any faster??!! "Good food and good food ideas", that's what Mr. Herlihy would say. I would love to hear that voice and those commercials again. I am sure they would make me cry.
I know there will be people who make fun of me for enjoying Perry Como's music. I can't help but think that our world would be a better place if we all listened to this type music instead of some of the garbage that is being played on the air waves today.
If you want to see an example of the Perry Como show and a peak into my past, you can go to this website for an example of his show. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ul_XROR12HA Sing for me, Mr. C.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ErbUFICtjcg
Tonight I can see daddy at one end of the couch and mom at the other; daddy with the paper in his hand, nodding off now and again. Mom would would be doing the same thing, nodding off that is - and can you blame her with five kids underfoot? There would usually be one of us kids between them leaning on momma, one of us would have won the coveted recliner and probably three of us would be stretched out on our tummies on the floor, heads propped up with our hands. Probably all of us would be doing our homework. My brother would be begging us girls to hit him in the stomach so he could see just how much pain he could take.
We would glance up at Perry once in a while, but what really got five little heads to bob up were the autumn Kraft commercials. Ed Herlihy was the soothing deep voiced announcer of the live commercials...........oh my he made you want to buy Velveeta...... and Kraft caramels for caramel apples, eat Chez Whiz right out of the jar, and his description of marshmallows salads.....can Thanksgiving get here any faster??!! "Good food and good food ideas", that's what Mr. Herlihy would say. I would love to hear that voice and those commercials again. I am sure they would make me cry.
I know there will be people who make fun of me for enjoying Perry Como's music. I can't help but think that our world would be a better place if we all listened to this type music instead of some of the garbage that is being played on the air waves today.
If you want to see an example of the Perry Como show and a peak into my past, you can go to this website for an example of his show. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ul_XROR12HA Sing for me, Mr. C.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Happy Birthday Mike K.
For the last 55 years I have remembered Mike's birthday, October 3. I have no idea why. I don't call him to wish him a happy birthday, I just remember. I usually inform someone that today is Mike's birthday to which they promptly ask who Mike is. I have known Mike since second grade, but we are not close friends. He was never my boyfriend. Yes, he was a cute little guy, but I always felt he was way out of my league and would never presume to think he would like me. He is the little boy on your left on the first row of the 4H picture I posted a few days ago. I only see him at high school reunions and have run into him not more than three times in all these years. So why do I remember him on his birthday? I guess it it because he is exactly three days older than me and it was a big deal to celebrate one's birthday at school when there are only four kids in one's class.
So..........here's to you, Mike. Happy Birthday!
Memory: When I was in the 2nd grade, Mike brought a metal address finder to school. Wow - now that was a cool thing. So..........my cousin and I decided we should put our names in the address finder. Mike was playing at recess and we stayed in. Surely Mike wanted our names and addresses in his address finder. What's an address finder for if not for addresses, and how many addresses was he going to get in our school? Probably eight so ours should be two of the eight. Well...............Mike came back from recess. Class resumed. Everything was great and then Mike noticed our names. Off to the teacher he went to tattle with the evidence. Oh my, even at 7 years old I wanted to just die. I was so embarrassed. I might have had the slightest crush on this little boy, the only boy in my class. To be called out and to know Mike was upset that my address was in his finder just about crushed me. The teacher just got on to us, but that was all. Whew! The next recess came and guess what my cousin thought we should do. Erase our names! So she erased our names while Mike was outside. Mike came back, class resumed, and ..........Mike checked that stupid address finder again. Off he went to the teacher again. This time we were not so lucky in our punishment. That teacher made us write 250 times "I will not touch Mike's address finder again." (That was normal punishment for misbehavior in those days. I wonder if they have punishment like that these days.)
So..........here's to you, Mike. Happy Birthday!
Memory: When I was in the 2nd grade, Mike brought a metal address finder to school. Wow - now that was a cool thing. So..........my cousin and I decided we should put our names in the address finder. Mike was playing at recess and we stayed in. Surely Mike wanted our names and addresses in his address finder. What's an address finder for if not for addresses, and how many addresses was he going to get in our school? Probably eight so ours should be two of the eight. Well...............Mike came back from recess. Class resumed. Everything was great and then Mike noticed our names. Off to the teacher he went to tattle with the evidence. Oh my, even at 7 years old I wanted to just die. I was so embarrassed. I might have had the slightest crush on this little boy, the only boy in my class. To be called out and to know Mike was upset that my address was in his finder just about crushed me. The teacher just got on to us, but that was all. Whew! The next recess came and guess what my cousin thought we should do. Erase our names! So she erased our names while Mike was outside. Mike came back, class resumed, and ..........Mike checked that stupid address finder again. Off he went to the teacher again. This time we were not so lucky in our punishment. That teacher made us write 250 times "I will not touch Mike's address finder again." (That was normal punishment for misbehavior in those days. I wonder if they have punishment like that these days.)
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Remember Peanut Harvest
My parents came to dinner one night back in 1981 and I shared the following essay that I had written that week with them. I could tell Daddy was getting choked up at the end, but true to form he never expressed any emotion. It just wasn't in his nature to share the emotion of sadness. He always said there was enough sadness in the world without adding to it so we never even had Dr. Kildare or Ben Casey on in our house. (Sometimes we girls would sneak a peak if he was not in the house. He probably knew that.)
In the third paragraph I reference "the hands". I am talking about the neighbors and local teenage boys. Since not everyone had a peanut combine, it was important that the neighbors work together going from field to field to ensure that the combine was used at it's maximum potential and that the peanuts were pulled at their peak. This story was about the earlier days of peanut harvesting when I was very young. By the time I was 12, the way of harvesting peanuts had changed tremendously. I will write more about that time in a future post.
I am copying this word for word as I had written it then including the grammar and punctuation - no word processing program in 1981. Had I written this today, I would have changed it up a lot, but word for word this is how I saw things in 1981. By the way, according to the last paragraph I was wondering if my own kids would have their own pleasant memories. Only yesterday, my daughter reminded me of one of her own pleasant childhood memories so I guess we were developing good memories for them after all.
REMEMBER PEANUT HARVEST by Regina Dawkins Tucker
As I gaze out of windows of my new home this beautiful fall day my mind wanders back to a quieter more serene time in my life - fall peanut harvest! Oh how those fresh peanuts did smell. Peanut brittle was just around the corner, which meant the holidays would be coming soon.
Each fall the two-room school I attended let out two weeks for peanut harvest. The boys had to work in the fields and my brother was no exception. He drove the tractor which pulled the combine. My dad was sacking the nuts and Mom had her huge needle and string sewing as fast as she could to keep up with Dad. I still remember her with her head tied up to keep the dirt out and oh, how they did get dirty.
While the hands were working, Grandma was baby setting and cooking dinner for the hands. We had a sort of tradition in our community that a huge lunch (we called it dinner then) would be served by the family whose peanuts were being harvested. Even though it was a busy time for the families of the community, everyone helped each other. Everyone had to get their peanuts out before frost. As I think back, I wonder if they didn't help each other just to taste each others' wonderful cooking, especially my grandmother's.
Grandma did not have a large kitchen so we set up a long table in her living room. The table was covered with wonderful dishes - pot roast, potatoes and gravy, at least a half-dozen vegetables and even homemade dinner rolls. I always thought of it as another THANKSGIVING DINNER and really I guess it was. God had been good to us for another year. He had seen us through planting; hoeing - I did hate to hoe peanuts but we made a lot of money hoeing; drought; and the rainy season....NOW THE HARVEST.
When Grandma finished getting lunch on the table she would send one of us kids to get the hands. Since I was the oldest I usually got that job. I remember wading through knee-high grass with the hot sun beaming down on my hair. Even though the day was hot it still had a feeling of fall in it. Maybe it was the beautiful fall colors of rust, reds, browns, golds and greens that made it seem cooler than it really was. My family has always been great admirers of nature's seasons and colors, but I can remember Mom and Dad saying that the most beautiful fall colors are in our own fields at harvest time.
Since Grandma didn't have indoor plumbing all the hands had to wash outside with water from the rain barrel. Then they would tramp inside and set down at a beautiful table. Never did I hear Grandma complain about them coming into her house dirty. She was just thankful that another harvest season was drawing to a close.
When harvest was over for another year we went to town to get material for Mom to sew into dresses, shirts, and jeans. Sometimes we even got store bought dresses. What a treat. At that time we didn't appreciate Mom's talent for sewing. Now that my sisters and I are grown and have children of our own we finally realize the time and effort it took for her to sew all those beautiful clothes. Hindsight is really a lot better than foresight.
So as I set here thinking about the "Good Old Days", I wonder if my own children will have pleasant memories of yearly events in their childhood. I know that they won't have peanut harvest to look back on for we only have five acres not hardly enough to have a garden let alone peanuts. But just maybe, just maybe they'll remember watching leaves falling from the front window.
In the third paragraph I reference "the hands". I am talking about the neighbors and local teenage boys. Since not everyone had a peanut combine, it was important that the neighbors work together going from field to field to ensure that the combine was used at it's maximum potential and that the peanuts were pulled at their peak. This story was about the earlier days of peanut harvesting when I was very young. By the time I was 12, the way of harvesting peanuts had changed tremendously. I will write more about that time in a future post.
I am copying this word for word as I had written it then including the grammar and punctuation - no word processing program in 1981. Had I written this today, I would have changed it up a lot, but word for word this is how I saw things in 1981. By the way, according to the last paragraph I was wondering if my own kids would have their own pleasant memories. Only yesterday, my daughter reminded me of one of her own pleasant childhood memories so I guess we were developing good memories for them after all.
REMEMBER PEANUT HARVEST by Regina Dawkins Tucker
As I gaze out of windows of my new home this beautiful fall day my mind wanders back to a quieter more serene time in my life - fall peanut harvest! Oh how those fresh peanuts did smell. Peanut brittle was just around the corner, which meant the holidays would be coming soon.
Each fall the two-room school I attended let out two weeks for peanut harvest. The boys had to work in the fields and my brother was no exception. He drove the tractor which pulled the combine. My dad was sacking the nuts and Mom had her huge needle and string sewing as fast as she could to keep up with Dad. I still remember her with her head tied up to keep the dirt out and oh, how they did get dirty.
While the hands were working, Grandma was baby setting and cooking dinner for the hands. We had a sort of tradition in our community that a huge lunch (we called it dinner then) would be served by the family whose peanuts were being harvested. Even though it was a busy time for the families of the community, everyone helped each other. Everyone had to get their peanuts out before frost. As I think back, I wonder if they didn't help each other just to taste each others' wonderful cooking, especially my grandmother's.
Grandma did not have a large kitchen so we set up a long table in her living room. The table was covered with wonderful dishes - pot roast, potatoes and gravy, at least a half-dozen vegetables and even homemade dinner rolls. I always thought of it as another THANKSGIVING DINNER and really I guess it was. God had been good to us for another year. He had seen us through planting; hoeing - I did hate to hoe peanuts but we made a lot of money hoeing; drought; and the rainy season....NOW THE HARVEST.
When Grandma finished getting lunch on the table she would send one of us kids to get the hands. Since I was the oldest I usually got that job. I remember wading through knee-high grass with the hot sun beaming down on my hair. Even though the day was hot it still had a feeling of fall in it. Maybe it was the beautiful fall colors of rust, reds, browns, golds and greens that made it seem cooler than it really was. My family has always been great admirers of nature's seasons and colors, but I can remember Mom and Dad saying that the most beautiful fall colors are in our own fields at harvest time.
Since Grandma didn't have indoor plumbing all the hands had to wash outside with water from the rain barrel. Then they would tramp inside and set down at a beautiful table. Never did I hear Grandma complain about them coming into her house dirty. She was just thankful that another harvest season was drawing to a close.
When harvest was over for another year we went to town to get material for Mom to sew into dresses, shirts, and jeans. Sometimes we even got store bought dresses. What a treat. At that time we didn't appreciate Mom's talent for sewing. Now that my sisters and I are grown and have children of our own we finally realize the time and effort it took for her to sew all those beautiful clothes. Hindsight is really a lot better than foresight.
So as I set here thinking about the "Good Old Days", I wonder if my own children will have pleasant memories of yearly events in their childhood. I know that they won't have peanut harvest to look back on for we only have five acres not hardly enough to have a garden let alone peanuts. But just maybe, just maybe they'll remember watching leaves falling from the front window.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)