Is My Slip Showing?

Good morning everybody.  OK girls, how many of you remember this?  For those of you who do not remember, this is a slip or petticoat or whatever other name you may have called it.  It was worn under your dress to prevent shadows of your bra and panties or legs from showing.  This picture came directly from the Sears website and to not get myself in trouble by using a picture without permisson, I have included their website.  http://www.sears.com/shc/s/p_10153_12605_018VA49762301P?sid=IDx01192011x000001&kispla=018VA49762301P&srccode=cii_17588969&cpncode=31-126280365-2

And the half slips--remember those? Back in the day we younger girls opted for half slips which were just that, a half slip. Maybe we were rebelling from our mom's more puritanical ways or maybe a full slip was just hot. 

And can-cans.  If you are of a certain age, you gotta remember those.  Stiffer, the better and if you could get one that stood out 90 degrees from your waist, you were the bomb!  I was very little when mom made me one out of window screen metal............I swear!  I am sure it was, but you know what age does to you...........it makes everything just a little more dramatic, stories a little more embellished, and memories slightly altered.......but I swear it was made from metal window screen.  I remember the steel gray color....and nope, I am not telling a fib, it WAS window screen material.  My little dress stood straight out and to this day, I can remember how it scratched me at the waist.  Most uncomfortable thing I have ever had on.  I don't remember wearing it but once and that was to church.  It was gathered at the waist and had biased tape at the waist and at the hem.  I guess that was to protect me from pokes and scratches, but believe me, it did NOT work.  Maybe that is the reason mom didn't make me wear it again. 

Last night The Tonight Show had on Carol Burnett and during the interview, Jay Leno showed a clip of her early, early days.  Her little dress was cute as it could be; high neck line, gathered skirt, fitted bodice.  During the skit she was dancing and swinging her arms and when she raised her arms, her slip was showing.  It came as such a surprise, that I asked the hubby if that was her slip or part of the dress. 

Slip showing............nobody has a slip showing these days.  I guess that is the reason I was so surprised when I saw Carol's.  Have you seen a slip showing lately?  Nada...........that is because nobody is wearing one.  There was a time, however, when the sentence "Is my slip showing?" was the last thing we asked before we went out the door. 

In 2013, modesty seems to have flown out the window, but I kind of miss the old days...the days of modesty.  Don't you?  I miss the days when certain things were just covered up.  No need to show all your assets to every stranger in town.  Oh we think we are so liberated, not having to bother or be encumbered with a lot of extraneous things like a slip, but look around you.  Do you see TOO much from the young ladies these days?  Are you sometimes embarrassed for what you see?

I am not advocating bringing the slip back (I don't even own one myself), but a little less flesh wouldn't hurt anybody.  Modesty...ahh, the good old days. 

I love you.  Now, is my slip showing?   

Carol Burnett....one classy lady.  She was so good at her craft, making people laugh with her talent and with no obscene jokes, gestures, or words.  What a lady!

Winter, You Win!

I'm having my coffee in front of my windows, watching the world go by..........if only there was a car to watch...........but I have the squirrels..........NOT!  They are holed up in their little nests because old man winter has decided to work some overtime hours.  Hasn't he heard of the sequester?  No overtime granted.  37 brrrrrrrrr degrees with sprinkles.  Even the goldfinches in their bright yellow summer dresses are wondering if they should change back into their winter garb, or just grab a coat.  Get on out of here, winter.

Will Rogers was sure right about Oklahoma when he said, "If you don't like the weather in Oklahoma, wait around a minute and it will change."  If you have ever lived in Oklahoma, you know that to be a fact.  Just yesterday, it was 77 degrees with bright sunshine and today 44 degrees for a high??!!??  What gives?  Well, that was a stupid question.  What gives is that I live in O.K.L.A.H.O.M.A.

I am so ready for spring.  There are things to plant, places to go, people to visit.  I try to find little snippets of time to run outside to plant a few things.  You have to do this if you live in Oklahoma because ideal times are rare.  So yesterday I just couldn't wait another minute.  It was sunny, it was warm..........almost ideal conditions except for the wind and that old forecast.  I had to plant, plant, plant.  I was just daring the forecast.  Sure enough, it took the dare and looks like it may win.  Sad face!  UNCLE!!!!!!!!!!!  Winter, you win!

So here I set, enjoying my coffee and watching my thermometer stay at 37 degrees.............ever so grateful that I have a nice warm house.  Next week, the forecast predicts more warm sunshine.  Waiting............. 

I love you, Oklahoma.  I love you all.

Memory:  This has nothing to do with this post at all, but I have been thinking about thresholds lately.  All I seem to see these days are made of aluminum or metal of some sort.  Do any of you remember wooden thresholds?  My grandma's house had ones made of wood, almost worn flat.  Just think of how many people entered and left that house.  It gives me a warm fuzzy feeling thinking of my daddy as a child stepping on it, but it saddens me to think of him stepping on it when we had to say goodbye to my grandma.  If only that threshold could talk.  You know, I never thought I about wanting that little threshold, but I would love to have that incorporated into my house in some way. 



   

I Just Love It Here

I just love it here even though it is such a cold day for it to be the 18th of April.  Can you believe it?  We had 3 inches of rain last night which really helps the drought conditions we have had for the last several years.  Our pond is now overflowing and the wildlife will have a water source once again.  Again........can you believe it?

We are so fortunate that we live on this little acreage; plenty of room for a huge garden if we want.  Unfortunately we also have room for all the little critters that consider our garden fast food, take out, and a dine-in restaurant.  We have the patrons that dig up the potatoes, the ones that carry off tomatoes to enjoy in their lairs, the ones that nibble the tops off green beans, and even the ones that climb up a tree to leap over to the pear tree which is surrounded by a hot wire, outsmarting and thumbing their noses at us, but we glare at them from the porch swing.  I am sure we scare them as we shoot laser beams from our eyes. 

This morning there was a beautiful buff-colored hawk on the garden post.  He just swooped down and back up to the adjacent post.  Wow, what is a beautiful sight and not one you'd see in the city.  We have deer, fox, coyote, and even a rare bob cat.  The squirrels are everywhere this morning, so cute, chasing one another...........and..............and do I see what I think I see...........is that little guy thumbing his nose at me?????????????  Why that little...............!!!!!!!!!!!!!

As happy as we are to live out here among the critters, we are happier to live on a street with sweet neighbors.  Even as I type, the hubby is visiting with the neighbor that lives across the street.  Yesterday, another neighbor was running his sweet-natured greyhound, Rosie, up the street.  Of course, he was not running per se, but on his scooter.  Scooter boy pulled up our driveway, right up the sidewalk to the porch swing and we visited for a half hour.  Then later our neighbors to our right walked up for another impromptu visit.  We felt pretty popular yesterday.

With everything that is going on in this world, it would be easy to climb into a dark hole and stay there.  Then I hear the children's laughter on the playground at the nearby school, I hear the birds chirping, I see Rosie running up the street, the squirrels are still thumbing their nose at me, and the neighbors stop for a visit.  I just love it here.

Just a cute little Logan story.  Today, when my daughter picked up little Logan from kindergarten, he told her, "I have good news and I have bad news.  What do you want to hear first?"  She said, "I want the bad news first."  He then says, "The bad news is David got scratched.  The good news is he didn't bleed."    Oh how I wish that the bad news is just a scratch and the good news is no blood...out of the mouths of babes. 

I love you.

What a Wonderful Day

What a wonderful day,  I have had my breakfast, but more importantly, my coffee!!!  It is a windless cloudy morning, rare for Oklahoma.  I am setting here looking out my windows watching my hubby carry brush to the street for big trash day, feeling just a tad guilty, but not enough to get up.

I have my favorite catalog in my lap right now, "Soft Surroundings", the 2013 summer preview issue, and I am in heaven.  If you ever want to buy me anything, anything in this catalog will do.  ANYTHING!  Anything at all.  Tunics, pants, linen shirts, gauzy skirts, soft dreamy night gowns, unusual perfume (which may be on my shopping list today....I think I deserve it.), sandals, even bed linens.  I want them all!!!  Their link is www.softsurroundings.com if you ever want to take a look, but nothing compares to flipping the pages of the actual paper catalog. 

I just love catalogs.  They are certainly not junk mail to me.  I have my Gardener's Supply Company catalog, my Front Gate catalog, and my other favorite, Plow & Hearth in my lap, too.  Front Gate is so far from my comfortable price range, I tend to look at it for ideas.  Plow & Hearth, however, is one from which I have ordered.  It fulfills my 'plow' sense with all their wonderful gardening tools.  They make me feel like I, too, can be a gardener.  My 'hearth' sense is fulfilled with all the wonderful decorating items...making me long for a cabin in the woods, in the mountains, in Colorado or New Mexico.  Oh, I wish.........  mmmmmmmmm 

When I was a child, Kay, or any sister, and I would pour over all the catalogs we used to get.  They were not these piddly little 50 page catalogs, they were huge two inch thick things.  Montgomery Ward, Penney's, and Sears.  We would set side by side, each circling one thing on each page that we wanted.  It didn't matter if it was women's clothing or toys.  We had to pick one thing on each page and one thing only.  Even mom would get in on the act. When a new catalog would come, then the old catalog went to my sisters so they could cut out paper dolls.  I remember them in their bedroom, cutting out these dolls, shoe boxes and lids for pretend houses, and the girls playing for hours.  Oh my, that brings back so many memories.....good memories. 

Sadly, Montgomery Ward is no longer around.  It looks as if Penney's is not doing too well either and Sears..........well the icon seems to be loosing its way, too.  So many of the stores of my youth are now just a thing of the past. 

Well, it is time for me to put away my catalogs and get busy.  Another busy day at the Tucker household.  Looks like we may have some bad weather later, but for now, it is a perfect day.  Each day is so precious.  What a wonderful day.

I love you.



 

 

Meatloaf..........That's What's for Dinner Tonight

Meatloaf........that's what's for dinner tonight.  I don't know about you, but my meatloaf recipe isn't really a recipe.  I just pretty much start throwing in a dash of this and a dash of that and it comes out something like meatloaf.  If I had guts, I would taste the raw concoction just like Julia to tweak the spices...as I said, if I had guts.  I have no idea what mine is going to taste like until I serve it, but the hubby likes it every time.

One thing that is always a constant in my recipe is 'milk bread'.  I cube up my bread and soak in milk.  Tonight I didn't cube it, I just tore it apart.  You know what, it worked just fine and was a soft mushy mess, just like I like it.

While mixing up my meatloaf, I started thinking about all the little shortcuts that mom took.  I don't ever remember mom chopping, cubing, or dicing a thing, not even onions.  If she needed an onion chopped, she would hold the onion in her left hand and make cuts as she went along and the onion would fall right into the pan.  If she needed an onion diced, she would make the cuts even smaller.  If she made fried potatoes, she would hold the potato the same way, cutting down the length of the potato and then slice it right into the hot oil.......wait, it was either lard or grease.  We didn't worry about lard back then.  I remember her having a cutting board which hung from a lanyard near the range, but I don't remember her using it.   

Just a little note:  Mom had to make things stretch for her family of seven.  One of the ways to stretch ground beef is to add bread.  I didn't realized until after I married that adding bread to ground beef wasn't necessary.  Sometimes I wonder if today's generation will know how to be resourceful if times get tough.  Common sense seems to have left the building!!

Meatloaf............that's what's for dinner tonight.

I love you.
 

I Am Inspired!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I love Pinteret.  I hate Pinterest.  No, I love Pinterest.  Needless to say, I do spend a lot of time being Pinterest inspired.  Translation:  I spend TOO much time on Pinterest, but I love being inspired--hence the love/hate relationship.  Pinterest makes me want to:

Use Coconut Oil on my cellulite.  I have been promised it works.  I even checked the price of coconut oil yesterday, but walked away at the $6 price tag, but wait, $6 is a small amount to pay to have swimsuit worthy legs, huh?

Make a flower pot out of ice cream sticks.
Make butterflies out of magazine pages.
Grow beets.  I hate beets. 
Travel to India.
Make my own tomato cages out of twigs.
Paint my front door purple.
Grow chickens.
Make a car cover.
Ride an elephant.
Make my own deodorant, dish washing soap, laundry detergent, and body scrub from ground egg shells and egg whites.
Roast kale chips.
Try a detox.
Get a tattoo on my left side.
Make mirrors from old tennis rackets.
Get married again.
Get a goat.
Make a fire pit.
Remodel the house.
Make a necklace out of my old t-shirt.
Make my own jewelry.
Reupholster the couch.
Paint a rug.
Recycle a lamp shade into a flower pot.
Make a lamp shade from a flower pot.
Make a kite from plastic tablecloths.
Make tablecloths from old kites.
French braid my hair.
Glue glitter to my shoes.
Paint each of my fingernails a different color.
Make a fairy garden in my old bath tub.
Take pictures of my non-existent flower beds.
Find new uses for vinegar.
Decorate cupcakes.
Do butt crunches.
Make a smoothie with spinach.
Color eggs and sprinkle with glitter.
Make my own applesauce.
Buy a new purse.
Wear 8 inch heels.
Wear slim jeans.
Turn up cuffs on my jeans and carry a large purse in the crook of my arm.
Make candles out of my own bees wax.
Be a better person.
Cook pasta, lotsa pasta.
Sew more.
Make my own donuts.
Make a headboard out of the tailgate of a pickup truck.
Make my own dog food.
Make a purse from placemats.
Wear eyeliner.
Bake eggs in avocado halves.
Pin something inspirational.
Pin something funny.
Go somewhere exciting.
Organize............EVERYTHING!!!!!!!!!!
Get up off the couch and DO SOMETHING!!!!!!!!!

I LOVE PINTEREST!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Excuse me now, I am INSPIRED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! or jacked up on COFFEE!!!!!!!!!!

Love you guys.  Happy Tuesday!!!!!!!!!  Happy Pinning!!!!!!!!!!

I Have a Lump in My Throat for My Family

I've been looking at Pinterest.  What's new, huh?

Here's what's new.  I just saw the most wonderful picture of a table, beautifully dressed, but it was outside.  I wanted to steal that picture and place it here, but wasn't so sure of the proprietary rights.  It was dusk so the Japanese lanterns were glowing.  I want to give a family party.  That whole picture spoke family to me.  I miss my siblings.  I miss my in-laws.  I miss my family.  They are my family.

When I have this family party, I want the evening to be warm, not hot, but warm.  Warm enough so that a light sweater wouldn't be uncomfortable.  I want to have a lovely tablecloth running the full length of my long table, I want candles scattered over the table with small crystal vases filled with peonies.  I want the food to be simple, but delicious.  I want the dessert to be the Pièce de résistance.  I want the honeysuckle to be in bloom, and let's not forget the roses.  I want us all to set around the table, softly visiting and reminiscing about all the good times we have shared throughout these last mmmmmm 63 years.  And I don't want ants, wasps, bees, ticks, or mosquitoes or those nasty flies.  And I don't want anyone, specifically me, to be stressed!

Here's what I think really might happen.  We will all be on the patio, but the girls will be going back and forth into the house, their arms laden with food--well laden with the ketchup, mustard, onions, etc, the back door squeaking continually.  There will be lots of loud laughter going on outside, but never mind that, just talk over them.  Somebody will ask me if I have a flyswatter.  I will ask Johnny to watch the burgers on the grill while I hunt the flyswatter.  The smoke from the grill will be swirling around the patio driving the guys further out into the yard and right on out to the building to see some sort of project the hubby is working.  I hear laughter in the building.  What about the burgers?  Laughter stops.  The smoke is really thick now and I run over to the grill.  The forgotten burgers are now flaming.  Frownie face.  Grabbing the tongs, I save the burgers.  Laughter.  Then I hear my sister ask if we are going to use paper plates.  Of course....do we ever use anything else?  Laughter.  There are cokes (coke is the generic name for all soda pop) in the frig in the garage.  Help yourselves.  Laughter.

By now the smoke is dissipating.  Laughter.  Our tummies are full.  Soft laughter.  Small talk.  Laughter.  Plans.  Small talk.  Laughter.  Homemade ice cream--never too full for ice cream.  Loud laughter.  Small talk.  Soft laughter.  Family.  Small talk.  Laughter.

Which party do you want to attend?  While it would be so wonderful to have the first party, if you come to my home, you are more like to experience a party not unlike the last scenario.  When we all get together, we tend to be on the loud side, laughing, telling stories of old, telling stories of our jobs, telling stories of our children.............family.  I wouldn't change a thing.  My brother, my sisters, my sister-in-law, my brothers-in-law...........well they are my family and I love them all.  Family.

I love you family.  I have a lump in my throat for my family tonight.
 

My Fried Pie Story

In my high school days, one of the best days of the week was Thursday.  Thursday was Lion's Club day.  Thursday was the day for Apricot Fried Pies at the Dairy Mart made specifically for the Lion's Clubbers, of which, we all know, I was not one.  But the Dairy Mart was kind enough to share them with us commoners.............for a price, that is.  As I recall you could buy one of these sweet/tart pies for 75 cents topped with ice cream.  I cannot tell you how delicious these were, the white rivers of melting ice cream flowing all around the bits of crispy flaky crust waiting for my spoon to expose the apricot lusciousness inside.  So whenever we could and whenever I had enough money, my dear friends and I would walk to the Dairy Mart for one of these little pies.

Last week it so happened that I had a 2 pound bag of dried apricots in my pantry so I decided that I would make fried pies.  Bear in mind that I have never ever made fried pies in my life.  How hard could it be?  No, I didn't use a recipe, but really how hard could it be, right?  I got my apricots out, put them in the pot, and covered with water...no sugar, but that was intentional.  These lovely orange babies cooked until tender and were good just like they were, but they needed just a tad of sweetness.  I grabbed a jar of the apricot preserves that I made just the week before and added it to the tender apricots.  The mixture was perfect...........ready for fried pies.

Then it gets strange.  I found a huge bottle of Canola Oil in my pantry.  There is no telling how long I had it.  It came from Sam's Club so you know it's a big jug and there was probably a good half gallon left in the bottle.  The date was still good, but I smelled it just in case, and sure enough, it was rancid.  But just how rancid was it?  Could I use it anyway?  I needed to taste it and there is only one way...........fry something in it.  I have never claimed to be smart on the up-take.  Well, rather than fry up a whole batch of these little pies and throwing them away, I tested one, just one.  That was enough!  The smell was unbelievable.  You could smell that oil in my bedroom closet with the door closed.  We dared to taste that little pie and sure enough, the taste was as bad as the smell.  Well shoot, I wasted a half gallon of oil....not to mention it took me two days to get the smell out of the house.

OK, it was time to get serious.  That first test pie was made with a store bought Pillsbury Pie Crust, but now if I am going to do this right, I need to make my own "from scratch" pie crust so I proceeded to make the crust recipe found on the Crisco sticks.  I was also beginning to feel guilty about eating something that was fried so I gave in to the GUILT and baked a tray of "non-fried" fried pies.  They were the same shape, but alas, they were horrible and nothing like a good old fried pie.  Good thing I only made 5.  We picked around on them for the rest of the day, but they left us longing for an actual fried pie.

The next morning I thought surely I could try this again, but this time I will actually fry the fried pies.  This time I actually looked up a recipe on the Internet, a reviewed recipe, I might add.  A dough recipe using an egg...........now I have never heard of using an egg in dough, but the reviews..................  I had a new bottle of Canola so I heated it to the specified temperature actually using an oil thermometer.  What could go wrong?  Nothing at this point................  The pies were looking good, but then they started to burn and burn fast.................even using the thermometer...............so I turned down the heat.  Four pies came out of the oil and onto the cooling rack.  Four pies............and not one fit to eat.  Three were doughy and the fourth was soggy with grease.  Yuck!   

My Dear Hubby:  Sorry guy.  You will have to continue your quest for the perfect fried pie, but make this note, you will never find one in our kitchen.  That was the last time I will attempt them regardless of your encouraging "practice makes perfect".  Not gonna happen.

I love you.  Thanks for letting me share "My Fried Pie Story".  By the way, there is a delicious apricot cobbler on my countertop waiting for ice cream and me!  Come over, I will share.

Aunt Wilma's Ham

If you tuned in to the Pioneer Woman on the Food Network today, you saw her prepare a most lovely ham for her extended family; a ham certainly deserving center attention at your Easter Sunday lunch/brunch/dinner/supper.  I think her ham glaze might me on my menu this year............if I fix dinner at all. 

As I have blogged before, when I was a kid every other Sunday my mother, one of her sisters, or my grandmother would prepare a sumptuous feast.  They took turns and we knew far in advance who was fixing dinner on any particular Sunday for it never varied. 

There are so many memories, oh so many memories of those precious Sunday afternoons.  Here are just a few:

I remember the pig cookie incident at Aunt Geneva's.  You probably remember that, too, since I blogged about it before.

I remember one Sunday afternoon we were at Aunt Geneva's, and I talked Daddy into letting me take the brand new car to Prague to "drag Main".  He happened to check the odometer before I left.  I put 64 miles on the car dragging Prague's Main street, less than 2 miles a drag.  He wasn't too happy.

I remember Aunt Azalee serving quail that Uncle Wesley shot.

I remember Grandma Thompson's jello and bananas in her large yellow bowl which I now own and hasn't had jello and bananas in it since. 

I remember Mom's...................well everything..............her getting up before daylight to put some sort of meat in the oven.............leaving the potatoes on low while we were at church.............and many, many other things.............

What especially comes to mind tonight is Aunt Wilma, the baby sister of the family.  She lived in Shawnee when I was little and to me, that seemed like the very center of the universe, a place where someday I would live, a place where I might work, a place where I would probably join the country club and the flower club.  {sigh - not to be}

One particular Sunday, Aunt Wilma really outdid herself.  She had fixed the most beautiful ham I had ever seen, scored with cloves expertly placed, and a shiny, sugary glaze.  To top that--if you could ever top that--she had twice baked potatoes, one for each of us.  I had never seen such a beautiful presentation of food in my 10 year old life. 

I have had many beautifully prepared meals since that time in all areas of the country and a few overseas.  I have even fixed beautiful meals myself which were photo op ready, but when I boarded my memory time machine today, not even Pioneer Woman and her beautiful ham could compare to that day in my Aunt's kitchen.  Remember that ladies and gents, you are creating memories for all who pass before you, for those you serve, and you may never know what moments will be committed to memory.

I love you all.

I probably ought to buy a ham.  Easter is next Sunday!!!

 

Magical.............Time Machine.............Memories

My April issue of "Southern Living" came today and it seems to be back to the old magazine it used to be, filled with lots of recipes, decorating ideas, and gardening ideas.  Each page I turned filled me with thoughts of actually getting up off the couch and doing something.  I hate that when that happens. Goes against my retirement motto.  When I came to the very last page, I was disappointed that there were no more pictures, nothing to inspire me, but there was an essay and since I had some time on my hands and since I really haven't lost the ability to read, I started reading.  And then I came to this paragraph.

"I guess I could try to explain, to tell them that for us memory is not an inventory, not a catalog of events, but a time machine. It lifts us off the dull treadmill of grown-up responsibilities to a time of adventure and wonder. The past is not dead, so the dead are never really gone. We resurrect them, daily, for one more story, for one more buck dance or ball game, or one more cast into the cool water. I could try to explain this, but instead I think I'll take a boat ride."

This April 2013 Southern Living essay, entitled "My Time Machine" was written by Rick Bragg, a Pulitzer Prize-winning writer and author of several best-selling books, including The Most Most They Every Had and The Prince of Progress.  Mr. Bragg went on to describe his childhood memory of a houseboat which was cute and interesting, but the words he used to describe memory really touched me.  I have never thought about memory being a time machine. 

I write a lot of memories in my blog, some childhood, some when my children were small, and some are memories only made on the day they were published.  It just occurred to me today, that when I write a memory I am not just writing chronicle of events.  I have traveled back in time, reliving those memories as I typed them.  I took that ride right back there snapping green beans for mom, feeling my grandmother's fingers as she rubbed my back, on a California trip with my husband, fixing Kraft Macaroni and Cheese for my son, curling my daughter's hair, or working on the island hideout with my grandsons. 

Of course I have memories of some very sad and painful moments in my life, but for the most part those I share with you are the happy ones, the ones that I will seek when I get in my time machine.  Those happy moments all had a common thread.  We were just having fun, we didn't know we were making memories.

There is an Infiniti commercial that has a voice over that says "The memories we share today become more magical tomorrow."  Magical...........time machine............memories. 

Kudos to Mr. Bragg.  I see why he is a Pulitzer Prize winner. "The past is not dead, so the dead are never really gone."

I love you.  Good night.