Once Again

I remind you that bullets shot up in the air will eventually fall, possibly hitting someone innocent who has nothing to do with anything.  Celebrate.  Have a blast.  But don't be stupid.

Happy New Year, All!

Making Christmas

Elf Slippers in orange and purple, the new red and green

Warm and cozy toffee fuzz

It's hard to see but these are made out of fleece yarn

Super heavy and thick

And finally, for a friend's grandson.  I made up the pattern from a picture.

Hrm....

I'm sure I've mentioned that snickerdoodles are my all time favorite cookie.  I LOVE them!

 Today, while searching the local Target for chicken broth I happened to glance in the case at the end of an aisle and what did I spy?  Snickerdoodle milk!  It was in my hand before I even began to ponder how wrong the concept could be.  And it could be.  I'll let you know after I taste it.

If I'm not back before then I'd like to be politically incorrect and wish you all a very Merry Christmas.  I hope it's your best so far.

Update - Six hours later -  The verdict - Outrageously rich and thick but oh so yummy. It comes with all sorts of suggestions on how to enjoy it. I suspect mine will be had cold, straight from the carton, no glass required.

For Example...

A bit ago I subscribed to dictionary.com's word of the day emails.  It's always good to learn new words and some of them are excellent.  I was chatting with a friend who agreed but wondered when some of them might ever be used.  Me, being me, took this as a challenge.  So here is what I came up with.  My same dark tone, with a whole slew of words of the day interspersed.  See?  It is possible to learn new things at any age and I highly recommend it.

Witherward go I

To the land of umbriferous demons

Their shadows engulf me

In a chill that leaches the hardihood

Right out of my soul

Knee deep in a pokelogan

Wightest serpents twining my limbs

Borborgymus audible above the pounding of my heart

Soon they will feast

The wroth sky unleashes torrents

Dousing me with acrid waste

Siphoned from blackened tributaries

Pelting me until I capitulate

I was dispossessed by the world I thought I knew

I am reprehensible in this alternative

A misfit even among abominations

The klaxon has sounded

My extermination is nigh

And I embrace it

Today's Ramble

Yesterday, there was snow.  For those of you who are local and pay taxes let me assure you the city did not incur any excessive overtime costs in cleaning the streets.  When I got home I drove back and forth in my parking space several times to flatten out the snow before it froze and then salted around my tires so there would be no problem getting back out of the space.

I peeked out early to see how much scraping I would need to do.  Looked easy, less than half the windshield was frosted.  Yeah.  Right.  Oh it was only half the windshield.  The problem was that the frost was inside.

Ever attempt to scrape the inside of your windshield?  Let me tell you, it’s easier said than done.  While I worked at it I had the defroster on full blast.  Sure, the frost melted.  Into rivulets and drops.  Lots of them.  Of course I had nothing to dry the window with other than my glove which was completely soaked in an instant.  I finally got them pushed around enough to get to work safely.

It was freezing up when I left work too but then I could take off my flannel shirt and use it to dry the window properly.  Hopefully now that I have, I won’t have the same difficulty tomorrow morning.

The heat was on when I got home.  Which means it was below 48 in my house.  I think the cats were amazed to feel warm coming out of the vents.  It was hard getting them to the kitchen to eat.

Yes, I feel guilty.  No heat again this year.  I thought I had that solved.  I went through the interview process at a big chain store.  I had a signed work offer and everything.  And then, even though I told them my availability online, on paper and in person, three times, they called for me to come to orientation and training. At 1:00 the following afternoon.  It was after 3:00 when they called.  My department at my full time job was already shorthanded due to special training that week.  There was no way I could attend.

I spoke with the woman who called me and she assured me that it was fine, they would set something else up and call me.  They didn’t.  A few days later I contacted her again.  No worries, they were setting up another time and would call me.  They didn’t.  The third time I spoke with her I was put on hold after identifying myself.  For my entire lunch break.  I had to get back to my desk so I hung up and haven’t heard from them since.

So here I am, sitting in the cold, being punished for being a decent employee at my full time job.  Gee, I thought that quality was one they might appreciate as I’m sure it would have carried over into my behavior with them, had I actually went to work there.

Go...

Read this!  Now!  And once you have, do something to help.

Oh My

I had a gift card - $25.  There were a few odds and ends I needed so off I went to one of the big stores that carry all I was after.  The plan was to spend the whole card while getting as much of my list as I could, using up the last few cents with cat food since the kitties are always hungry.

I gathered my items and off I went to check out.  A very pleasant cashier commented how absolutely lovely the candle I purchased smelled.  Went on and on about it.  Hmm.  The candle was unscented and said so very clearly on the label which she looked at closely.  The scent she picked up was my lemon blossom lotion which is indeed as light and refreshing as she described.  I smiled and said thank you.

The total of my order was $25.17.  Yes, well done me!  I had already mentioned I had a gift card.  I handed it to her with a quarter.  She slid the card and the register asked me to enter the pin number.  She stood expectantly until I reminded her it was a gift card.  There was no pin.

She slid it again to the same result.  No, still no pin.  She decided to enter the quarter first.  The total then owed was $24.92.  Slide card.  No pin.  Slide card.  No pin. Go for help.

That person suggested entering the card as credit instead of debit. Ah!  Success!  No pin!  Transaction complete.  And I still have $.08 left to use on my gift card as the cashier very cheerfully informed me.

Unsettled

Over the past several months I have rewatched the entire Waltons series.  Revisiting childhood and all that.

The first thing I realized is that I am old in more ways than remembering when gas was .30/gallon  I mentioned it one day and a coworker had no clue what I was talking about.  She was born post-Waltons.  So I did a little research.  Except for Elizabeth, the Walton children are all older than I am.  I don’t know exactly how to react to that.  It might be depressing.  Or it might be weirdly comforting.  I’m not sure.

.

Back then, when the series first aired we didn’t have cable TV.  It didn’t exist yet.  Or not in the middle of nowhere where I grew up.  We had three channels that came in clear, four that were generally fuzzy.  And there was plenty to watch, the little time that the TV was on.

I don’t have any sort of provider these days.  I realized I was paying a ridiculous amount of money to not watch anything.  I’ve enjoyed the past few months, revisiting old friends.  Yes, that’s how the Waltons seem to me, old friends.  After all, I grew up with them.

Or I should say I was happy until the last three reunion movies.  For reasons I don’t understand the story line was vastly altered.  Children born to Walton children no longer existed.  Mary Ellen, whose first son vanished and who was unable to have more children suddenly had three.  Ben’s son disappeared too.  And Olivia never got to see the Atlantic Ocean for her 40^th wedding anniversary trip due to the early arrival of John Boy’s twins.  Heh.  She’d been there at least three times throughout the series.

I know it’s just a TV show and doesn’t really matter but it’s based loosely on an actual family.  The writer was involved all the way through, included the last few movies where things were altered.  It just doesn’t make sense to not keep things consistent.  In fact, watching it all at once, in order, is a bit disturbing.  I feel slightly let down.  There are no more movies so things will never be set right.

Oh well.  As I said, it really doesn’t matter.  I will keep the DVD’s and watch them all again in another ten years or so.  By then, even fewer people will know who I’m talking about.

Be Kind

To loved ones. To strangers. Even to those you may not particularly like.

I know I’ve rambled on this before but it bears repeating.

With Thanksgiving today it is the beginning of the holiday season.  A time of year that isn’t always easy for some. Moments that may trigger happy memories for you could bring ones to the surface for someone else that are vastly different.  And often, they don’t let it show.  Inside however, they might be torn to shreds.

Life can be hard.  Don’t make it worse by being thoughtless.  I’m not asking for much.  Just show a little kindness to all you meet.  And to yourself.

Happy Thanksgiving All.

Childhood Memories

When I was a wee babe my first room was in an old farmhouse.  It had a wooden tongue and groove ceiling.  And was creepy as hell.  To put it mildly.

My earliest memory is standing in my crib, screaming for help.  And no one coming.  There were “things” in my room.  Unexplainable things.  Evil things.  That came down through the hole in the ceiling.  It had a cover but often in the morning, it was moved.  My parents always tried to tell me it was squirrels in the attic.  They were mistaken, of course.  There were never squirrels any other time.  Or any evidence of rodents in the attic.  No, it was not squirrels.  It was “things.”

It’s been suggested that the hole was a fireplace flue.  Hmm.  I don’t think so.  The farmhouse was very small and the chimney was on the other side.  It’s not very likely that such a structure would have two fireplaces.  And there was no corresponding hole down through the floor so I’d say that idea is out.

If that weren’t creepy enough for a tiny tot this pair of taxidermied ducks hung on the wall above my crib.  Yeah.  Who does that?

The saving grace of the room was the windowsill.  It was about sixteen inches deep and safe.  I can’t tell you how many nights I spent on the windowsill.  It protected me from the “things.”  I went back there today, to take these photos and it was very tempting to crawl up on it.  Yes, there is still evil in that house and no, no one else seems to feel it.

What is wrong with those people?

Today's Lesson

Researchers have recently identified a new type of boredom, the fifth.  Oh you didn’t know boredom came in varieties?  Me either.  All this time I just thought I had ennui.  Apparently I was wrong.

Some types of boredom provide motivation while others are non-achievement oriented.  It is reported that unless you are boredom-obsessed, the differences are subtle.

So why should you care?  Because identifying which type of boredom it is that is being experienced will then make it possible to develop better strategies for alleviating it.  This could help deal with things such as attention disorders, poor learning skills or inability to function efficiently at work.  Ah, now you see the need, don’t you?

To recap:

1.  Indifferent boredom – a state of being relaxed and withdrawn

2.  Calibrating boredom – being uncertain or dreamy while receptive to change

3.  Searching boredom – emotionally itchy, restless and actively looking for change

4.  Reactant boredom – being motivated to find alternatives to a situation sometimes to the extent of behaving inappropriately

5.  Apathetic boredom – the newest kind, which mimics depression – being full of helplessness

It is thought that individuals have one type of boredom that sticks with them rather than switching between varieties and that personality may be a contributing factor.  Also each type manifests into different kinds of physical and emotional reactions, some of which may adversely affect one’s health, some of which may cause the person experiencing boredom to be a threat to others.

So there you have it.  Bet you’re glad you stopped by today.

Today's Photos from my Offensive Yard

Heather, just beginning to bloom.  In another week or two the white will turn pink which will last until spring

Unexpected iris bud, reblooming way out of season.  The yard spirits have been busy conjuring.

Primrose - If we don't have a long freeze this will bloom another month.

Osmanthus in all its glory. Covered with bunches of white flowers that send their delicate scent wafting on the gentle breeze.

For Sale

The Reading Royals minor league hockey club, last year’s Kelly Cup champions.

The team has been in Reading since its inception in 2000 and is currently owned by SMG, the management firm that oversees Reading’s entertainment venues and the Berks County Convention Center Authority.  Apparently they want out because attendance is way down and the owners aren’t making a profit.

Hmm.  Perhaps this is more because Reading’s economy is still so horrendous that less people can afford to go to games.  Maybe the owners should be helping figure a way to improve that rather than bailing on one of the good things the city has.

It was reported that they will attempt to find a private buyer that will keep the team in town.  Let’s hope they do.  Reading needs things to be proud of not more memories of what once was.

I was going to say I have twenty bucks and ask who wanted to go in with.  But now I have to use that as part of my quality of life fine for having the audacity to plant flowers in the yard.  Still, if you want to go together and buy the team, I’ll be with you as soon as I win my appeal against the city.  (See earlier rant for what I'm on about.)

I! AM! ANGRY!!!

I came home today to find a quality of life fine notice taped to my door. For the "noxious weeds and high grass" in my yard. There are neither in my yard but I suspect the inspectors wouldn't be able to identify a perennial at the end of the growing season if their lives depended on it. There hasn't been a killing frost so I haven't done my end of year tidying yet. And here's the kicker. To appeal you must first pay the fine. Oh hell yes, I am appealing! You've seen my flowers. And my strawberries. I'll be taking pictures with me. Pardon my rant but as I said, I am angry. Very, very angry!!!

No Wonder

Today I once again understand why the post office is in such turmoil.

I had a very pleasant woman call to inquire whether a package was delivered as the tracking indicated.  She was checking because she was the sender and the box has been lost for over a week.  No, it was not.  At the time she called I had yet to see any postal personnel in my office.

Four hours later a very hateful, miserable woman from the post office called. She insisted that the package had been delivered this morning at a time when I know with absolute certainty that I was at my desk.  When I attempted to explain that she was rude and yelled at me.  She refused to listen, getting louder and louder as she told me in no uncertain terms that I received the package.

Twenty minutes later the mailman came.  He had the package in question earlier but was told to pull it from the truck, that someone called and said they’d be picking it up.  Hmm.  No.  That’s as untrue as saying the package was already delivered.  There had been no orange slip at any time saying someone there had a package so why would anyone think they needed to go pick something up?

Funny thing is when I sorted the mail the package was with it.  It had not been pulled and was not at the facility waiting for anyone to claim it.  Yeah.

The woman that sent it was pleased to know it arrived safely.  And the postal woman who called and was abusive?  All I can say is she’s lucky I don’t have her name because I would be reporting her.

Hope your day was better.

Thank You

Look How Pretty!

NaNoWriMo 2013 - Maisey's Secret - An Excerpt

Maisey opened the heavy oak door and stepped into the silence. The tension was almost palpable. She wished there was an alternative to going on in but there wasn’t. She’d lingered as long as she could already. It was near suppertime and if the meal wasn’t on the table, waiting, there would be hell to pay though more often than not it went uneaten.

She tried to slip into the kitchen unnoticed but failed. It was her own fault for neglecting to unlatch the screen door before school that morning. They were in the study, glaring at each other and caught the movement of her passing by the doorway.

“About time, girl,” her Uncle Silas yapped, his voice even more nasal than usual.

“Late again,” Aunt Petunia slurred. “What a disappointment you turned out to be.”

“I was at the library working on my book report,” Maisey offered by way of explanation. It was a half-truth but she wasn’t worried about being caught out. Her momma’s brother and sister had already dismissed her.

Maisey prepared a simple meal. Things that could be easily reheated. As she cooked she wondered about her classmates’ lives. Several of them came from single parent homes. Others lived in multigenerational households. A few even had the traditional family, a momma, daddy and siblings. On the surface her situation didn’t appear significantly different. But it was a façade. She doubted any of the other eight-year-olds in her grade were responsible for getting meals on the table at the end of the school day.

It was the norm for her. Had been for as long as she could remember. Her daddy was on the road the majority of the time and her monna couldn’t handle things on her own. They’d moved back home to Granma’s when Maisey was but four. When Granma got sick her aunt and uncle swooped in like turkey buzzards, staking their claim on the house before she was even gone. Since she passed they’d been at one another’s throats nonstop, each trying to evict the other.

The constant bickering overwhelmed her momma. She’d withdrawn deep down inside herself. Some days she didn’t even speak. Which left Maisey pretty much on her own, fending for herself as best she could.

It was okay at the beginning. Her aunt and uncle hadn’t paid her much mind. Not until they walked up on her carrying a tray to her momma. Once they discovered she could cook they demanded that she make their meals too. Occasionally they even ate them when they were still hot but more often than not they snuck into the kitchen later on and microwaved the leftovers separately. It was like they didn’t want to be caught eating or something. Too bad they left their dishes for her.

Momma didn’t eat much these days. She was pining for Daddy most likely. It was a year and then some since his last visit and that was way too long. Maisey used to wonder if he stayed away because he didn’t want her as part of their lives but then she realized that it was just his nature. Oh he surely loved them. In his own unconventional way. He was happy enough when he was there but it just wasn’t in him to settle down with them fulltime. He’d hang on less and less each time he blew in. She expected sooner or later he’d stop coming by altogether. She couldn’t help but worry what would become of Momma when that day came.

Maisey filled her momma’s tray and took it upstairs. “Momma? I brought you some supper.” No response. “Momma? Won’t you please eat some? Just a bite or three?” Again, there was no reply. “Well, I’ll just leave it here, should I? Maybe you’ll want some later.”

She went back down and stuck her head in the study where the tension had gone up another notch. “Supper’s on,” she said.

“What slop did you throw together tonight?” Aunt Petunia asked, pouring herself another tumbler of rye whiskey.

“Chicken and waffles, ma’am. Your favorite. And some of those early sweet peas I picked out of the garden yesterday. I know how you like them, Uncle Silas.” It was a challenge sometimes, keeping them balanced in her comments so neither would complain that she was taking sides. What she didn’t understand was why it concerned them at all. She was a child. What would it matter if she did choose one over the other? It wasn’t like she could be of any help to either of their causes.

Soon as Maisey ate her own meal she made up two plates, one for each of her kin, retrieved her momma’s untouched tray and finished up the dishes. Tidying the kitchen as quick as she could, she escaped to her room in the front corner of the house. No one else ever came up there. Not even Granma back when they first moved in.

She had thought it was strange. Until she figured out that something in that room weren’t right. In the beginning when she was still mostly a baby she thought her imagination was conjuring up things out of her nightmares. But then, as she aged, she realized that they weren’t just dreams. There was pure evil in that room. When she tried to talk on it with her momma or Granma they both told her to hush up, that she was talking foolishness. She knew they were wrong of course. If her notions were such nonsense why were they both too afraid to venture into her room?

Lookee!

I just love friends who have tiny children in their families. Wee sweaters are such fun to make!

 

It's That TIme Again

NaNoWriMo!  National Novel Writing Month. 

If  you didn't stop by last year this is a challenge to writers. Write a 50,000 word novel in the month of November.   I completed the challenge last time.  Indiscriminate Slaughter, a creepy tale of how everyone deserves to die.

This year's venture is Maisey's Secret.  The premise - Maisey's life has never been easy. Her family is dysfunctional with a capital D. And now there are Spriggans sneaking through the hole in the ceiling, trying to steal her. What's a girl to do? 

I've been watching old reruns of the Waltons.  When I hear Maisey's voice in my head it sounds like she lives down the road from them.  I only managed 917 words today.  That's 750 words short of the projected goal but it was only the first day.  Plenty of time to make that up.

I'm not at all sure where this tale will take me but I do know already that it will be an adventure.  You're welcome to tag along if you'd like.

Happy Weekend!

Remembering...

Halloweens growing up did not hold many decent memories.  It simply wasn’t fun. 

I grew up in the middle of nowhere, in a school district that was scattered over a vast area.  My friends lived on the far reaches of the district, nearly 20 miles away.  As you can imagine trick or treating back and forth with them was out of the question.

My neighborhood, if you can call it that since really all it consisted of was a road with a scattering of houses, had no sidewalks and no street lights.  As a small child, I was not allowed to traipse up and down the road after dark.  Nor were the few other children that lived within a mile and a half. 

There were two years when one set of parents collected all the kids and took us around as a group to the same houses where they’d picked us up individually.  It took all of ten minutes, start to finish.

Costumes then, when you had a mother who didn’t sew, were those cheap, shiny open-in-the-back jumpsuit type things with a plastic mask.  I know I had a Flipper costume.  And I half-remember a Casper costume although that might have been the same electric blue coverall as Flipper with a new mask.

Carving pumpkins was highly frowned upon.  It was much too messy although there were sad attempts when I was honestly too little to be wielding the big carving knife.  The wrath they inspired just wasn’t worth it.

Yeah, Halloween to me leaves a lot to be desired.  But to those of you who have happier memories, enjoy!

Another Tradition

The coming of fall means more than flannel sheets.  It also brings a favorite food.  Not that it really has anything to do with the season.  It’s something that, in my opinion, is a chilly weather meal.

My grandmother knew how I loved it and used to make it often.  Yes, even when I visited in the summer though to me, it just never tasted as good when it was hot outside.  The recipe originated with Jane who was one of the cousins. 

In the family there was my grandmother and great aunt and the five cousins.  As girls, they were inseparable.  I loved visiting when I was very young.  I sometimes got to stay at Cousin Jerry’s house.  She and her husband never had children and borrowed me on occasion when I was visiting my great aunt and grandmother. 

There were always stories of the cousins for the asking.  Cousin Francis moved away and made her home in South Carolina.  Cousin Mary ran a canoe rental stand on the local creek.  Cousin Jane had a daughter also named Barbara so growing up we were the Barbies even though we are separated by twenty some years.  And Cousin Betty married an author, lived in New York City and was the Grand Central Station information lady.  Oh yeah, you can imagine how much I adored when she would come home for holidays.  They were all wonderful women and I am very fortunate to have had them in my life growing up.

They’re all gone now except for Jane.  So it is in her honor that I share this recipe with you.  May you enjoy it as much as I always have.  Please make it and share it with your families.  I’m sure the ladies would be thrilled to have one of our traditions become one of yours.

The Dish

From Jane McCoy, one of the cousins

¼ lb dried beef

½ lb grated sharp cheddar

2 c milk

7 oz uncooked macaroni

4 hard boiled eggs - chopped

2 cans cream of mushroom soup

Mix everything together.  Cover and refrigerate overnight.

Bake 1 hour at 350 until bubbly.

Melancholy

I put on the flannel sheets this morning.  Doing so for the first time each season always reminds me of the second cat to grace my home.

Igor.

He was a street cat who claimed me on cold December day.  When he found me he was missing half his fur.  He limped.  The vet later told me he had broken his leg at some point.  He was skinny as could be.

By spring he was gorgeous and sleek.  Pure black, exotic yellow eyes.  With a Siamese voice that echoed throughout the house.  He would sit in the attic and scream.  I’d go running, sure he was in tremendous peril only to find him sitting on the railing, waiting for me to pet him.  Yes, he laughed every time.

The next fall when I put the flannel sheets on he was the happiest kitty ever.  He never seemed to be able to get warm enough. All summer he’d sleep on the navy blue beanbag chair in the sunbeam in the attic.  As soon as those sheets were on he burrowed into them.  I’d have to go get him when it was time to eat.  When he was done he’d go straight back up to his cozy little nest.  He was nice though.  At bedtime he’d scoot over and give me a bit of space so I could join him.

He’s been gone for years.  Every time I put on the sheets though, I can feel him with me that first night.  I expect to hear him later, calling me to curl up with him.

Happy Weekend!

Day Almost Called

On account of stupidity.  My own, that is.  Yesterday after purchasing the winning ticket for tonight’s power ball I noticed that my one tire looked a little low.  I wasn’t sure if it was truly low or an illusion from being parked half on a ramp.

This morning I was ready for work early so I decided to be responsible and stop for air along the way.  Off I went to the same mini market where I’ve been adding air to my tires for the entire dozen plus years since it was constructed.  Out I hopped.  I took off the little cap, got the hose, pushed the button and then stood there. 

I haven’t added air to any of the tires since purchasing them in the spring.  I had no clue what the tire pressure on these particular tires should be.  I checked the gauge.  The pressure was 28.  I thought okay, I’ll be safe and add a few pounds.  Only when I let go of the trigger to check what it was up to the pressure had dropped.  I felt completely foolish as I’ve added air many times over the course of my driving life.  I tried again.  Down it went some more.

I quit before the tire was low enough to be unsafe.  I ran into a coworker on my way into the office and informed her I had to go home as I was too stupid to be in public today.  I explained why and I commend her on her effort not to snicker.

Not ten minutes later another coworker called to tell me she had the same experience on her way in this morning.  Ha!  It wasn’t me, nor was it her.  The damn gizmo was malfunctioning again and the mini market hadn’t put up the out of order sign yet.

So I debated about stopping at the other free air source on my way home.  The problem however was I still didn’t know the optimum psi for my tires.  I called the place I bought them and the very nice gentleman explained that there was likely a sticker on my door jam that contained that information but if I wanted to stop by he’d be happy to take care of it for me.

No, the sticker was not there so I went to see Corey the tire guru.  He located the sticker.  On the inside of the fuel door.  The tire info is in fine print beneath the fuel specifications.  Good to know for next time since he checked them all for me.  The only one that was low was the one I let air out of this morning.  If I’d left it alone, it would have been just fine.  Yes, it was at the recommended pressure before I got involved.

Most Excellent!

Want to know what I am referring to?  Click here.  Talk about cool!

Even in Death, There is Beauty

Wow!

This is blog post #1500!  I thought, in honor of that, I'd reshare all my book covers since that's the reason for all this in the first place.  See any you haven't read yet?  Click on the cover and it'll take you to the appropriate page.

As always, thank you for stopping by!