Special Moments

Here it is, the end of a year; one of the worst years that I can think of for many reasons. Not only the pandemic hit us all unexpectedly, I lost several good friends. It seemed every day was a new challenge.  

Today, on Facebook I linked an old blog post about Pop Dixon and making our New Year’s Eve special.  I reread a comment regarding that post.  The commenter said life is a string of special moments. Looking back over 2020, I didn’t, at first, remember any special moments; all doom and gloom, certainly no string of special moments. Then it began to dawn on me that there were a lot of special moments.  In fact the whole year was made up of special moments, perhaps smaller than in years past, but nonetheless, SPECIAL.

There was a one last Dallas trip to meet special friends just as the pandemic started.

There was a overnight trip to see our favorite guitarists right after Covid reared it’s ugly head.  Weighing all the risks, we decided it was worth the effort....and it was, indeed!

There were the date day trips we made to Walmart grocery pickups.  We made those trips fun just watching the world drive by on I40.  

The trips for fast food only to eat in the car in the Target parking lot were entertaining.  We, again, called them date nights.  

Easter was different and challenging, but my immediate family got to share some social distancing on the front porch, even working in an Easter egg hunt.

Some of the best special moments were those warm evenings watching the deer enjoy the corn that we’d provided......then the foxes, opossum or two, even a family of 4 skunks waddled in a time or two.

Black and white movies became a new passion.  Gosh, what productions those were.  I enjoyed just looking at their movie sets, maybe more than the plots.

So.........here I set, corned beef simmering for Rueben sandwiches later, just about to work in a little nap because we will be up late making another sweet special moment.  Friends, life is made up of a string of special moments.  Make one, even if it is just for you....it takes effort.  Maybe even an afternoon nap is special.

All my love for a great 2021.

I Washed my Hair with Rainwater

I did something today that I haven’t done in over 55 years; I washed my hair with rainwater.  Back in the 60s my grandmother used to save rainwater, because, according to her, it made one’s hair softer.  If grandma believed in rainwater as a softener, I certainly was a believer, too.  

As her oldest granddaughter and a young teenager it was my privilege (and let us not dismiss the fact that  it was an excuse to drive the car) to wash her hair on Saturdays. Her short coarse gray hair was so easily washed. I can still see her in her cotton dress leaning over the little white basin with red trim, me pouring cups of warm water over her head. The best part was always the suds, and after a gentle and thorough sudsing, I would follow up with a vinegar rinse.  Grandma always thought that the vinegar rinse would cut some of the yellow from her gray hair. I don’t know about that, but I certainly know that it made her hair squeak. Squeaky hair to her, and to me, means one’s hair is clean!  

A few days ago and quite by accident, this tub filled with rainwater.  For many reasons this brought back old memories, and I just couldn’t pour the water out. So as a tribute to her, but more of a remembrance, I washed my hair today using this rainwater. I hope that you look at these pictures, and maybe you have some memories yourself, of a time when everything seemed precious. Not everything was it as easy as turning on the tap.  

Another story about rainwater written in 2011.  Hope you enjoy!

https://retirementthegoodlife.blogspot.com/2011/05/rain-water.html

I love you.  ❤️ 

Grandma’s tub was at the corner of her porch just for this purpose.  Remember,cousins?  Sometimes I wonder if my family was the only ones to appreciate this precious commodity  

The Dented Funnel

You know when you reach in the drawer and pull out something as beat up as this funnel, perhaps you are older than you think.....maybe?  I tend to think of myself as a spry young chick.....and then I see this.  What a slap in the face realize I have been using the same funnel for the last 48 years.  Am I that old.......to have a 48 year old funnel?  How old am I?

Just look at the stains and scratches and dents and more dents.  No, not me, silly, the funnel!  Am I going to throw that thing out just cause it’s dented?  Oh no!  That hot jelly still slides right through it.  It still works.

I love you, but don’t throw me out just because I have a few dents.  I still make good jalapeño jelly.

P.S.  I wish I had Grandma’s old whisk, repaired with wire and  I would pay premium to have the old flat bottomed metal spoon Mom used to stir gravy.  Priceless memories.  Now, let’s have some jelly.

What Happened to the Night

“What happened to the night?” Johnny asked.

We have been enjoying the night lately. Because our normal has changed, we have been looking for new ideas to keep us entertained. We have discovered that we have a nightly nature show right outside our backdoor.  Tonight after we finished our nightly wildlife session, we weren’t quite ready to go inside so we decided to take a walk in the dark.  “What happened to the night?”, Johnny asked.  It’s true, the night had disappeared. There were outside lights everywhere; lights that come on at dusk, some coming on automatically, some on timers.  It was as bright as a runway. The night had actually disappeared.  Gone was the night!

 I wish you kids could experience the night on the farm back in the 60s. When my dad turned out the lights, it was dark!  All one could see were the twinkling stars above. It was magical, not scary. It was a time when I felt at peace. I felt safe. There wasn’t a need to have a light that came on automatically at dusk; we had daddy.  The night was night!

I love you.  Turn out the lights.

Yes, we did have an outside light but it was a flood light that was turned on only when we needed to go outside. Imagine five children playing under that light in the summertime. Imagine turning on that light to get a glimpse of the glittering snowflakes of the winter.  But when we turned out the light it was night. It was peace. We were safe.  Night was night.

The Telephone Recipe Book

Look at this....  What a hilarious menagerie of old recipes!  Or so I thought the moment I flipped through the pages, recipes pasted over every square inch.  All of a sudden it came to me........sort of an epiphany that it wasn't about the recipes at all; it was about the collection.  She really had no intention of making these dishes.  She was just collecting them..as a little HOBBY.  She didn't have a scrapbook at hand, but that did NOT stop her.   

In these quarantined times, we are all looking for things to entertain us, looking for a new hobby or dusting off our old projects. but we whine around, one excuse after another to do nothing.  Grandma wasn't quarantined as we are today, but she had her own limitations.  She couldn't drive so she walked a couple blocks for bread and milk, and only occasionally went into town for essentials.  Maybe she was, indeed, quarantined.  She didn't let the fact that she didn't have a scrapbook stop her from completing her project.  She thought outside her box and she made do.

So when you find this old telephone book filled with recipes, (and I am definitely going to keep this) you will know why I kept it...not for the recipes, but for the reminder that a hobby can be anything you wish; besides it makes me smile.  It humbles me.

Grandma, what a woman!!

I love you.

I love you.

  



Flipping Pages Back to Front

Good Sunday afternoon.


The weather is somewhat odd today.  At this very moment in time, the sun is beaming in my sunroom.  Soon the sun will be blotted out by the clouds and rain drops will be hitting the tin roof....and then the sun will peak through once again.  Such weather is so comforting to me because while the temperature is not what one would call warm, it somehow evokes spring.


I'm setting here flipping through one of my favorite catalogs...........from back to front..............as my mom would do her magazines.  She always told me it was because she could look forward to the best pages still to come as they were at the front of the magazine.  If she flipped pages from the front to the back, she'd be left with only the continuing pages of stories or uninteresting ads.  Does anyone out there remember all the military and boarding school ads at the back of magazines?  I always felt sorry for the kids that might be sent there.


Anyway.........I am looking at my Sundance Catalog founded by Robert Redford in 1969.  It's a beautiful catalog filled with page after page of all things southwest.....from sheets to shoes, beautiful oversize embroidered tops, a lot of things that are somewhat hippie in style with a hefty price tag.  Sure enough as I flipped from back to front, I finished on the best...........$2500 jewelry..............and that's not going to happen...........  I wonder who buys such expensive things from catalogs?  If I were to spend  that kind of money on jewelry, I'd certainly like to see and touch and try on in person.


The interesting thing I have come to realize looking at this catalog is I am no longer a hippie...not that I ever was....but I wanted to be one.  And that's too bad because I can now afford such beautiful clothes and I do love these cute tops, but...........they no longer fit my image.  I am no longer the svelte thin creature I once was.  The hippie style just passed me by while I was flipping my life from back to front.  I was all to conservative in my dress.  I missed all the "pretties" of the styles of my youth and now I am left with the ads and the continuing pages.  I say all this tongue in cheek, but there is a bit of irony in it.  We go about our business day by day while thinking we will live our best life "one day".  Life is still very good to me, but I realize that I no longer fit the image of southwest hippie as much as I love the clothing. 


So start living your best life YESTERDAY.  If we could turn back time, I sure would.  Instead, I am going to live my best life TODAY....FOREVER...I might even be tempted to buy something with embroidery with that hippie flare.......somewhat tasteful.


I love you.

The Spoon

It's a dreary day today with snow earlier this morning and intermittent rain expected all day.  The sunroom is warm and inviting with the intermittent rain hitting the metal roof.  We don't even have the lights on because the six sliding doors and one huge sliding window provides just the right amount of ambient light.  So that's where we are, each on our electronic devices....yes, maybe they are VICES.  Nonetheless, here we are. 


Now that the stage is set for memories (and the fact that I just looked at our "Reminisce" magazine), let me tell you about one I had a couple days ago.


Sausage gravy had been on my mind for a while.  Since neither of us are big breakfast eaters, having this dish at night just sounded like the thing to do.  I was stirring the gravy with my olive wood paddle that Rhonda gave me when I suddenly remembered the spoon that was used exclusively for stirring gravy when I was a child.


The gravy spoon was a much worn old silver plated serving spoon.  I say silver plated in the most generous way possible because I doubt any sort of silver analysis could find much silver.  The spoon bowl itself was bent around so much that one dared not try to taste test from it.  The bottom of the bowl was worn from its daily use.


Daily use you ask?  Yes, daily use.  Since we were a family of seven, mom always found ways to stretch her food budget (we never even thought about the word budget back in those days....it was a way to stretch food).  She had five little mouths to feed and gravy filled the bill. 


Do you have a favorite spoon or kitchen tool that is always used for specific meals?  I have several wooden spoons that are much worn because I used them for making specific candy, stews, and even gravy.  Nowadays, my olive ladle has become my favorite for making gravy.  I love it, but I sure wish I had that old spoon. 


I love you.  Don't have the good stuff.