A Little Bit of Home

I've been feeling pretty homesick lately.  I always do in the Fall ... and then there's the holidays, but we won't go there right now.  I think perhaps I long for home because I was born in Autumn on a beautiful "Indian Summer" day (except I was born at night).  This year the pull is stronger.  It could be my approaching birthday or the chill in the air or the leaves turning colors and just maybe it is because I have not been home in a year and a half.  I just have this need to spend time with family and revel in the familiarities of my childhood; though I must also acknowledge so much has changed.  There are just times when some small reminder of home would be nice and then it happens in an unlooked for place.  I've mentioned our new community owned and volunteer run grocery store.  I enjoy taking my turn volunteering there.  When entering a new establishment, it's natural to want to check out and compare the products to see what is available in our store as opposed to those in neighboring towns where we have had to shop for the past twelve years.  Everyone was oohing and ahhing over cheese curds in the dairy case.  I know cheese curds are great, but I also know we are carrying cheese from a local cheesemaker and these curds simply could not be as good as those from the Dairy State.  OK, so I'm a cheese snob; but I grew up in Wisconsin, so give me a break!  Well, the temptation was too much!  Last week when Hubby and I were shopping we had to try the curds and bought a small package.  They were really good and we were duly impressed.  Meanwhile, the weather changed, and a huge pot of soup is in order.  We needed to pick up a few items to go along with the soup.  This time we bought a big bag of the cheese curds because the smaller package didn't last long.  I ladled the soup and, after a prayer, Hubby starts reading the package containing the curds.  He tells me to read the package.  That's right.  The curds are made in Wisconsin.  I'm still homesick; nevertheless, a little bit of home helps.

Life in a Hamlet

Oh the bane of small rural towns!  There's nothing to do ... there's no place to go ... It's like a ghost town ...  How can you live in a place like this?  All are comments I have heard about the small town I live in.  Several years ago my family hosted an exchange student from Germany.  When the coordinator came to visit to inspect our family and home to ensure the well being of the visiting student we went over the various forms.  When filling out the forms, I listed the size of our town as 'small'.   The coordinator said we should more accurately describe our town as a 'hamlet'.  Ouch!  Our town wasn't always this small.  Obviously, it began small; but then grew to boast a couple of groceries, restaurants, mercantile, phone exchange, movie theatre, drug store, liquor store, shoe store, seven different churches, two gas stations, bank, grade school, high school, train station and the grain elevator.  We were actually a booming town at one time.  Then the wars happened and the younger generations decided living in a small rural town or farming the family farm wasn't the ideal for their life.  No blame is meant here.  This happened and still happens all over the world.  It is as if society goes on some bizarre diet and soon the town begins to shrink.  Businesses fail as some move away and others refuse to support what they have.  What's a small town supposed to do when it has heard the death knoll?  We can't all shrivel up and die!  The town I live in lost it's schools to a consolidated school district comprised of the students from five different towns years before we moved here.  It had lost most of its businesses and all but two of the churches as well, and one of those churches doesn't have a weekly service due to its hierarchy.  We still had the grain elevator, the bank, a gas/service station, restaurant, grocery store and one church.  A Day Care has come into town and lasted.  Other businesses have tried and failed.  We lost our Post Office.  The restaurant has struggled, opening and closing under new operators.  The grocery store foundered and died.  Through it all we had a long-time mayor who worked very hard to keep the town going.  He, too, passed away a few years ago.  Some saw a need and formed a Community Association which began working to stay the hands of time, if you will.  This group has since joined a statewide PRIDE organization which fosters the continuation and growth of small towns.  A committee formed and worked on grants to see a new park which was completed this summer.  The  restaurant is stronger.  Two years years ago one enterprising man from the community purchased and began renovating several of the rundown buildings on Main Street.  Within the past couple of months a fitness center has opened and so has a beauty/barber shop.  The community got together and worked on developing a community owned grocery store.  The store opened a little over a week ago.  It is non-profit and run totally by volunteers.  We may be small and seemingly going nowhere; nevertheless, the spirit of the community still lives and we are seeing new growth!  We are going strong after 125 years!

Goodness to the Last Drop

What a nice day it was today ... Saturday ... some might say lazy; some might say relaxing.  I would like to defend myself in saying I did actually do something more than sit around drinking coffee.  I did some yard work, washed dishes, worked on my book, picked up a few things, folded and stuffed the bulletins for worship services, prepared dinner and a dish for a potluck tomorrow and gave moral support.  It was mid day when I heard today is National Coffee Day.  I don't know why I hadn't heard this sooner.  Didn't this take place just a few months ago?  It doesn't really matter.  I was guzzling my third huge mug of the day when I got the news.  I was talking on the phone at the time.  I just nodded incredulously, smiled and took another slurp before it got cold.  I'm not really certain why we need a special day for love of coffee.  Coffee aficionados know who they are.  Many begin their lifelong love for the heavenly brew when they are mere children.  Others are led down the path out of necessity when they are deep in studies.  Some must wait until full blown adulthood when they are introduced at the workplace, a restaurant or kiosk, or simply when dining with friends.  Whatever their association is and when it began is irrelevant.  It's not as if they must attend CC (Coffee Cuddlers) meetings.  Don't most coffee drinkers ... at least the true devotees celebrate the goodness every day?  Do coffee drinkers really need an excuse to have another cup?  I think not!  Nevertheless, I drank my share and did my best to celebrate.  So, here's to coffee drinkers everywhere:  Drink up and may Mrs. Olsen smile upon you!

The Televison Season

The new season of television shows is up and running.  It's strange how the notion of season in TV Land has changed over the years.  I'm not certain how the seasons began when television was young.  I think many of the shows were presented live.  Longer ago a series seemed to run the length of the school year with time off for various specials just as students had time off for Christmas vacation.  Reruns were the select few episodes that were able to fit into the summer months when most people were busy or on vacation.  If you had a series you particularly enjoyed, you hoped to be able to see a rerun if your parents didn't have you doing something or going somewhere.  Now, a new show may premier in the Fall, Winter, Spring or Summer.  A television network may broadcast anywhere from one to six episodes before reruns are rebroadcast of at least the first episode, if not all of them.  The series may be off for several weeks as the required number of CMA shows and nauseating bachelor type "reality"shows have been shown before the networks bring back something someone might actually desire to watch.  I mean really, who makes these decisions anyway?  I do not apologize here for the failure of television networks to produce high calibre entertainment.  Even some of the History channels broadcasts have been lacking of late.  ... At any rate, at this point, we are either continuing the season or entering into a new season.  It is a bit confusing especially when previews are shown for a series that looks interesting and then you find out you don't have that channel on your plan.  Nevertheless, the Fall season has begun and I have been able to see a couple of series pick up where their cliffhanger endings left off last May.  There are a couple of new series I would at least like to give a chance.  Stay tuned for my opinions.  We now return you to your regular broadcast channels.

A Sound of Music

Music has charms to soothe the savage beast.  That's the old saying.  There's a lot of wisdom passed down in the old saws.  The actual word here is 'saw' referring to a maxim or a proverb and derived from the word 'saga'.  Interesting ... but I had intended to write about music today and that was before I heard about the passing of Andy Williams.  I loved listening to him sing and had a collection of his albums which were unfortunately lost in a fire years ago.  It was definitely one of those situations when you are more concerned about the safety of those involved instead of the objects that might be lost.  And yes, listening to Andy could really soothe one's nerves.  He had that quality about his  voice.  While baking bread today, I was, in fact, thinking about  music and it's effect on people and pets, having heard a segment on the news the other evening in which a young couple was faced with the challenge of calming a screaming infant.  Nothing worked until they played the theme song from "Star Wars".  This song alone seemed to quiet the child.  It is strange the way music can calm or irritate us.  As I kneaded the dough and prepared the loaves to put in the pans I was watching one of my cats.  She was in my line of vision as she groomed herself  and then laid down for one of her naps.  Angel is an elderly tabby and like most of the pets in our family throughout the years, a foundling.  She has grown cranky and demanding in her latter years.  We put up with her.  She is family.  We love her.  Hubby had left to make calls and the radio station he has set up on his computer was playing a mix of easy listening and soft jazz instrumentals.  It was comical to watch Angel's sudden reaction to "Cast Your Fate to the Wind".  Her ear shot up.  She was obviously listening and enjoying the music as she more or less kept time with her tail.  We've had other pets who seem to enjoy a certain type of music or a specific entertainer over another and come from wherever to to entertained.  My favorite was Olav our big Maine Coon cat or Norwegian Forest cat (we were never quite certain of his breed).  Truly my cat, Olav loved classical music.  His favorite piece was Beethoven's 6th Symphony.  The opening strains would bring him from wherever he was in the house to the source of the music whether it was radio, stereo or television.  He would knead the carpet and lay down to listen kneading the air with his huge paws.  Babies, pets, animals and most people enjoy music.  Today we lost a wonderful performer.  Rest with God, Andy.  May you find that rainbow's end, waiting round the bend of Moon River ... 

Everybody is a Packers Fan

We'd been married a little more than a month when we headed west to the state of Washington to serve my husband's year of vicarage.  He had grown up there and the assignment was a blessing in that I was allowed the opportunity to get acquainted with his family and he was able to spend time with his dad during his final year of life.  But, I digress here ... My brother-in-law, who was in his early teens at the time, greeted us when we arrived by very excitedly announcing "Mom got tickets to the Seahawks!" ... Did I mention we were newlyweds?  You try to please your in-laws, but sometimes the words innocently slip out.  "What in the world is a Seahawk?" I queried.  I honestly had no idea.  We had good seats.  What do I mean 'good'?  They were great seats, in fact.  It was a good game, though I don't recall if they won or lost or who they played for that matter, but I think it was San Fransisco.  ... Have I mentioned I am from Wisconsin?  Do you know anything about the Packers, Wisconsin, and cheeseheads?  Everybody is a Packers fan in Wisconsin even if you have no understanding of the game of football.  This is serious devotion to the game and loyalty to the team here.  I can remember the overwhelming sense of sadness when Bart Starr retired.  I was just a girl.  A card was available in the school office for all the students to sign if they wanted to wish him well.  The list of names stretched out the door and all the way down the corridor.  Yes, I got choked up when he was shown at the Super Bowl game.  I also had a classmate who was related to Ray Nitschke.  That was a real 'WOW factor' for our class!  And then there was Vince Lombardi.  What can I say?  What a coach!  Packers fever has just continued to grow throughout the years.  Now, our daughters cheer the Pack on with the best of them.  It was a thrill to tour Lambeau Field a few years ago and we proudly fly the Packers flag for their games.  Televised coverage is great if the game isn't blacked out becasue we do not live in Wisconsin and our residential state team may be playing at the same time.  The internet helps, providing coverage and instant commentary by friends and relatives all glued to the game.  Sad as it may seem, I have to admit I am one of the fans who doesn't really understand the game; nevertheless, even I could have made a better call than the refs duringlast night's game between the Packers and the Seahawks!  Oh yeah, for whatever it's worth, Hubby is a Packers fan!

It's Time to Celebrate Fall

I absolutely love this time of the year.  My affinity is difficult to explain.  The weather starts to chill and one would think there might be an overwhelming sense of ending as the harvest is brought in forever changing the lives of the plants from whence our sustenance comes.  I see a richness heightened by thoughts and colors of warmth and family.  Imagine the year in colors.  Spring with its lively step is filled with pastels and new life; summer is imbued with hearty, full shades depicting the solidity of established life; and winter is dark, crisp and cold leaving an icy starkness.  It is Autumn with its rich deep hues of reds, browns, greens and golds that speaks to a full sense of accomplishment.  Even the trees are adorned with glorious shades as they proclaim their praise of a year well served before strewing their leaves in great  accolades to be crunched under foot by nature's revellers.  The very word 'Autumn' seems elegant augmenting the notion of fall and seems to draw the mind towards a sense of hearth and home, firelight, and smells of spice.  Families and friends congregate to enjoy games, bonfires, food, and stories as festivities move between the outside and inside of sheltered estates.  Good grief ... this is a bit flowery even for you, Kathy!  Who cares about all that?  Let's just watch some football!  Nevertheless, some do care.  It's time to celebrate Fall!

It's Hobbit Day!

Today is Hobbit Day declared so by fans of J.R.R. Tolkien and, in part, in anticipation of Peter Jackson's upcoming film trilogy based on Tolkien's book The Hobbit.  Why was today, the first day of autumn, chosen?  Anyone who has read Tolkien's books can tell you September 22nd is the joint birthday celebration of Bilbo and Frodo Baggins.  It is also the day (their birthdays) on which adventures begin and come to their conclusion.  Picnics, pubs, readings, film marathons, the internet, and birthday parties will bring devotees together around the globe to share their enthusiasm for the films and the books.  Pathetic, silly, and nonsense some might denounce these celebrations undertaken by a weird bunch of nerdy losers.  Really?  Is camaraderie over a story any worse, or different for that matter, than people getting together to watch groups of all ages running around and tussling over a ball or throwing a ball into a hoop or hitting a ball with a stick or driving a car or engaging in pugilistics?  We think nothing of watching sports and purchasing all manner of sports related memorabilia and clothing.  Why should we criticize those who care more about books or the arts or academics.  The world is made up of all different types of people.  What an uninteresting planet this would be if we were all exactly alike.  Now, how about another piece of cake, Mr. Baggins?

Life Creates a Hiatus

Well, it's been a while and all I can say is 'Sorry about that!'  Don't know why but the title 'Death Takes a Holiday' springs to mind, though no one has died, at least not in the sense of my long break.  It is more rather a sense of 'Life creates a hiatus'.  This seems much more fitting, though I haven't even had any sort of vacatin, yet ... except it would seem from my blog.  My schedule just grew to be a little bit hectic.  So the question is where have I been and what have I been up to?  Yes, I know that is two questions and not one.  Remember I can get a little wordy and if it seemed appropriate here, I would insert a winking emoticon.  The answer to the first question is quite simple:  I've been right here.  Ok, so if I'm honest I have been within a 50 mile radius of my computer.  The answer to the second is more exciting depending upon your point of view and your thoughts concerning Church and State.  The first portion of the summer was spent preparing for and instructing sessions of old-fashioned Vacation Bible School at each of the parishes we serve.  The totality of June through August ... except for the part about VBS ... was spent in meetings, arranging and running around to set up the celebration of our town's Quasquicentennial - a big fancy word meaning 125 years.  I was priveleged to work on the planning committe with a great group of people and honored to serve as the chair.  Was it a wonderful celebration?  Yes!  Am I glad it is over?  Yes!  Since the celebration the end of August, there has been some paperwork to complete and acknowledgments to get out as the committe gradualy winds down and recovers.  Through it all, I don't want you to think I have been totally slacking off with my book.  I have completed an edit, numbered the chapters, pared my synopsis, written a back cover blurb and worked on my query letter.  Nevertheless, I have not forgotten about you and have even spared my blog a moment or two of guilt from time to time as various topics flooded my mind like waves washing the shore only to recede leaving pebbles and bits and pieces of who knows what in their wake.  Now it is time to get back on track, sift through the pebbles and put pen to paper ... or fingers to keyboard ... once more.  Or, in other words, as Samwise Gamgee would say "Well, I'm back."

The yellow brick road

Today marks the anniversary of the birth of Frank L. Baum (May 15, 1856 - May 6, 1919) author of The wizard of Oz and a whole series of delightful tales centering on the mythical land of Oz.  I have often wondered why he chose the home of Dorothy Gale one of his most notorious characters as a small rural setting in the state of Kansas.  If one has ever visited the Sunflower State, it would soon be obvious by the 'slight' breezes.  Even Dorothy's surname proclaims the propensity for forceful gusts of wind.  It is not a well-known fact that even though Chicago is nicknamed 'the Windy City', central Kansas is actually a windier locale.  The tornadic weather from time to time naturally leant to the whole story of Dorothy's farmhouse drawn up through a swirling storm and plopped unceremoniously down where it did not belong.  These were facts I could readily accept even as a child while watching the classic film or reading Mr. Baum's books.  Little did I ever think I would one day reside in Kansas and in fact had never visited the state before my family moved here some years ago.  When one thinks of Kansas one autoimatically thinks of Dorothy and her ruby slippers.  Being short of stature I was struck by the number of fellow members  of the vertically challenged masses.  I have thought Mr. Baum must surely have visited Kansas at one time to have such insight into the number of smaller people and my mind readily accepted a reasoning for the beloved characters known as Munkins.  Well, all this is well and good, but Mr. Baum really missed the mark with the 'yellow brick road'.   I realize he passed on nearly a century ago, but seriously, had he ever travelled the roads in Kansas he would be well aware that it is the cities and larger towns that have paved roads; rural areas are lucky to have gravel and the gravel is actually huge chunks of sharp rock that ruin many a tire on our modern vehicles such at the automobile.  Sometimes they put down a couple layers called 'chip and seal'.  This like the rocky gravel is cared for by graders called 'maintainers' which push the debris to the sides and then back into the center of the roads which, by the way, have no shoulders.  All too soon any stretch of road is pocked with huge ruts and gaping holes to resemble a war zone.  Finally enough citizens complain and the right politicians tour an area and after years of patchwork and hemming and hawing something might be done about the roads.  I am very gratreful and proud to say the time has come for our small hamlet sized town.  It isn't a yellow brick road; nevertheless, we finally have a paved road leading to one of the entrances of our town. To the members of our community, having a road paved with asphalt is tantamount to having a road paved with gold.   It might be too much to ask, I suppose, to have the other roads done as well.  Or would it?  Don't make me call the flying monkeys!

Right on, Hilary!

I will rarely talk politics.  They tend to annoy me.  Without further adieu, I will also freely state the topic of politics I have reserved for a future blog post.  With this said, I must say, political views aside, I will applaud anyone who can get the job done.  I have gained a whole new respect for Hilary Clinton over the past couple of years.  There is a degree of hindsight that makes one pause to consider the manner in which she might have served as our President.  Be that as it may, the timing apparently was not right and I have already stated the purpose of this post is not to discuss political views.  A couple weeks ago after viewing a morning news broadcast, friends on FB got into a discussion of Hilary's appearance and how she had 'cetainly let herself go'.  There were of course crude jokes which are both offensive and disrespectful.  My response was to the effect that the perfomance of her duties as Secretary of State would seemingly age anyone and sometimes events happen that are not conducive to perfect hair styles.  Watching tonight's broadcast of ABC's Evening News, I see ours has not been the only discussion on the topic.  Mrs. Clinton was in the news today making a statement not about politics but, rather, about life.  To paraphrase her statement, she said she is happy to be at a point in her life when what she does is more important than how people see her. If she chooses to put her hair up or pull it back she will do so for ease and comfort. The same goes for make-up and wearing her glasses instead of contacts.  She said she would allow others to worry about such things for themselves if they felt they needed to.  The point is:  we may 'view' someone for the actions they take which have an impact on life around us or we can in a more shallow manner 'see' someone soley by their appearance.  Well said, Hilary!  I commend you!

Here we go already

I am reminded of the rather caustic saying "The horn works. Try the lights!"  We live in the Great Plains region of the country.  Last year it was just plain hot!  I'm not really complaining.  It was hot everywhere and it was, after all, summer.  One should expect some amount of warmer weather.  It seems we are never satisfied.  We compalin about heat in the summer, cold in the winter, rain if it rains, and no moisture if it doesn't.  We need to learn to be content with the state we are in.  Nevertheless, we seemed to have an inordinate amount of heat last year as records were broken and drought conditions made it worse.  Still, we managed to save a lot on the utility bills by cutting back on the amount of water we put on the garden ... it was a colossal flop but nobody had a decent garden last year.  We also kept the electic bills lower by setting the air conditioner at about 80 degrees and running fans during the day.  We ran a ceiling fan at night and could open the bedroom windows.  Everything was closed up again in the morning.  As this process seemed to work, Hubby and I agreed to do this same program this year.  We have already had temperatures in the mid 90's and brought the fans up from the basement and even and run them a couple of times.  It looks like our early spring may be marching quickly towards summer.  Last week the air conditioner was uncovered.  I was preparing dinner last night when the air kicked on.  Being frugal, we decided it was too late in the day to run the air so the unit was set at 82 degrees and flipped from 'cool' to 'off'.  The realization was made that we might have to give in and run the air today.  Sure enough, it was slightly before noon and just shy of 90 degrees outside.  Hubby had just arrived home and said we had better close up the house.  We ran around (no, not literally) and closed windows and doors.  When I said it sounded like the air was already on, he looked at the unit outside the kitchen window and assured me it wasn't running yet.  When I kept hearing something running, I placed a bare foot over one of the floor vents to discover not cool air but heat.  "Um, Honey, the furnace works.  Try the air!"

A recipe for the future?

I'm hostessing a special meeting of a ladies' group tomorrow evening.  What makes the event so special is that we will be at the home of the eldest member of the group ... she'll turn 100 years old this summer.  We met at her home a year ago and she wanted us to make sure we included her on the calendar this year.  Ladies are always watching their weight, but if we are honest we really like to eat too.  This being the case, I knew I would have to come up with a special dessert to fit the occasion and began leafing through my collection of church cookbooks.  Don't laugh!  They have the best recipes because they are all time honored and taste tested.  Having lived in various states, I possess a nice assortment.  I talked the choices over with my hubby as to ease and availability of ingredients.  I narrowed the choice down to two; one from a cookbook; and the other, a family recipe and of course I hadn't made either one of these desserts in years.  My hubby came to the rescue and made the decision I should make the family recipe.  Sounded good to me too.  I've been feeling a bit homesick lately and this is my grandmother's recipe for Pretzel Torte.  Try as I might, I could not find my copy of the recipe.  Now, I used to make this dessert a lot so I had a vague recollection but I'm trying to impress the ladies and figured I better have the real thing.  I got on Facebook and messaged my mom, one of my sisters, my aunt and four cousins.  One of them was bound to have Grandma's recipe.  Within hours as they heard my plight I received the recipe from a cousin via her phone to my e-mail.  Another cousin couldn't find her copy either and wanted me to share when I got the recipe.  My mom e-mailed me her copy that night.  Don't you just love this modern technology?  Meanwhile Hubby got on the internet and was trying to find the recipe too.  There are a lot of versions for this dessert!  My aunt had a copy but hadn't tried the recipe and  all the cousins wanted to try this too.  So I wrote up what I received and was able to message everyone.  Isn't it wonderful that we are able to contact one another in this manner and share over the internet something so connective as an old family recipe?  I've decided this would make a great family re-union.  We can pick a date which works for each of our families and each family can make Grandma's Pretzel Torte and there we have it ... a family re-union without leaving the comfort of one's own home.  Chatting and texting are already in force among so many.  Skyping would be the icing on the cake.  Voila! The family re-union of the future is born!  Somehow I don't really think this is what Grandma had in mind.

A song that never ends ...

Did you ever have one of those days?  You know the kind.  You wake up in the morning and are blithely going about your daily tasks and then it hits you ... that little noise niggling in the back of your mind until you realize it is the song you have been singing for the past half hour.  Try as you might the silly thing will not go away ... at least not for very long.  Yesterday, I kid you not, I had Leonard Nimoy singing 'The Ballad of Bilbo Baggins" traversing the Misty Mountains.  I suppose it might have been worse.  It could have been Bobby Goldsboro warbling about poor Frodo and his nine fingers.  OK, so I have to admit I enjoy the animated versions of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings (even though they could have completed the story.)  This morning, it was a Chopin polonaise.  Frequently hymns will fill my mind.  Today my hubby and I were shopping and as we were driving down the street a red rubber ball bounced and came rolling in front of us ... you guessed it, there it was "Red Rubber Ball" by the Cyrkles.  What can I say?  I like music; well, most music that is.  A criteria centers on the fact that I have to be able to understand the words so that leaves out a whole gamut of Rap, Metallic, most Country and, dare I say it, Opera. There is one song, however, that will stick in my head for days.  I can mention it as I am doing right now and it may not phase me, but should there be a music station playing and this song come on, I am sunk.  Oh no!  There is is!  The lilting march is starting and now the Beatles are singing!  "... a yellow submarine, a yellow submarine ... We all live in a yellow..." 

Fresh bread

Today I'm talking bread ... the kind you eat, not the slang for currency.  I bake my own bread.  Is there anything that smells better than fresh baked or baking bread as that wonderful aroma from those wholesome loaves wafts its way throughout the house out open windows filling the area with a sense of warmth and goodness? There is a saying that "_____ is the best thing since sliced bread."  (I"ll let you fill in the blank.)  Sliced bread certainly is a novelty when one stops to think about it, but it doesn't necessarily fit the total picture of wonderful.  Each culture has their own version of bread each providing a sense of home and satisfaction.  In many places in the world one would be hard pressed to attempt to slice bread.  To name a few, think about the Middle Eastern pitas which are folded, the tortilla which is also folded, the Norwegian lefsa which is rolled and the Ashkenazic bagel ... Ok, so modern culture has decided the bagel may be sliced latitudinally to force them into the guise of a sandwich; still, the bagel did not begin with this intent and many sticklers refuse to give in here.  While we are talking sandwiches, this was the revolutionary idea of the 18th century which developed into the notion of slicing bread and credited to the British 4th Earl of Sandwich who refused to leave off gaming for meals and required his servants to bring him a piece of meat between two pieces of bread.  Before this time, chunks of bread were broken from a loaf and slathered with creamy butter and jams.  It did not need to be sliced to enjoy its savor.  I submit that hot fresh baked bread is better than sliced bread anyway you cut it.   One can almost smell the delicious atroma ...

Let's pay it forward

Pay it forward ... what a novel idea and so simple.  I realize this has been going on for a couple of years now.  It's a shame it hasn't been going on for millennia and, to be fair, perhaps it has.  Is it possible we just haven't noticed before a time when everybody is in a world of hurt and so a nice gesture takes on new meaning?  That is the whole point:  to pay it forward is an act of giving to someone something you have even just a little bit extra of without expecting anything in return.  We might think of this as some of the milk of human kindness.  Everyone has needs and these needs are not always a tangible commodity.  Think about the manner in which a smile or laughter is able to brighten up a person's day.   What about a word of encouragement to the person who is feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders.  I think everyone should try to make at least one person happy everday.  I don't mean just among our friends, although friends have needs too.  I am thinking of the person who may not be the most well-liked of our associates.  They too have needs.  Do not forget the perfect stranger and this is where the whole pay it forward program began.  I challenged my FB friends to day to give abit of encouragement to those around them as we begin a new week.  Let us all take up the challenge and follow through in our day to day lives.  We might be surprised by how much brighter our paths seem to us.

My elusive goal

Some days it is just simply difficult to attain my elusive goal.  Oh sure, I wake up in the morning with a grandiose scheme in my head as to everything that will be accomplished during the course of the day.  I do all the little things that are necesary to get myself going.  Today this included scaring our tomcat who assumed he was next in line for the shower.  I started a load of laundry and swept the floors.  Is my list still on task?  Good!  Now, how about indulging in that second mug of coffee ... Mmmm.  Might as well take a break and look over the paper or checkout things on FB.  After all, I might have missed something since the last time I was on.  Post and update.  It is important to remember I have my own page to worry about plus the page for my book.  Done?  Good!  Now, get back to work.  I have a sink full of dishes from last night and hubby wants pancakes for brunch since it's Saturday, but he'll fix them.  Yay!  I clear out the sink and hubby walks in the door.  Better pile those dishes back into the sink so he can work!  Meanwhile, I put clothes in dryer and hang tops that need to be line dried.  I help hubby by setting the table and brunch is ready.  We sit down to eat and one of our daughters calls, but we can call her back.  Brunch is over and I clear the table, but will have to wait to wash dishes because the griddle is still hot.  Then I check on the laundry and the phone rings again.  I can afford to chat amicably for a few minutes before foisting this call off onto hubby.  I finally get to call our daughter back and an hour later, before getting off the phone, she is posting a recipe on my FB page and since I am there anyway I might as well see if anything new has happened, right?  I knew you would agree.  Now, by this time the griddle is cool and I can get the dishes done.  With that task finished, I check on the laundry again and decide it is time to terrorize another one of the cats by doing the vacuuming.  Snack time!  We munch a couple crackers and drink a glass of water ... yeah, I know not very high class, but it is what it is on a Saturday.  I finally get to put the load of scatter rugs in the dryer and fold and put away the clothes that were washed today.  Sitting down at my keyboard to write this blog I am about two-thirds of the way through when my daughter calls again just to chat while she takes a break to go check on her mail.  Twenty minutes later I am back to typing and correcting all the typos made while trying to type and hold onto the phone at the same time.  Now it is time to prepare dinner and I still haven't had time to work on anything related to my book today ... sigh ...  Nevertheless, I did get a few things done and as Scarlett O'hara would say, "Tomorrow is another day."

Lest we forget

Lest we forget - today is the day of Yom HaShoah in the nation of Isreal - the Day of Remembrance.  It is the day when the holocaust is remembered.  It is a day the world should remember.  Let us never forget this horrific act and vow to see this inhumanity never again perpetrated against any group of people.  It saddens me to know there are those in the world who did in the past and others who would now or in the future turn a blind eye to atrocities against mankind and a deaf ear towards screams for mercy.  I pity those who claim such actions never took place, yet, just maybe, and I am trying to put the best constructin on the subject, just maybe the facts are too heinous for their minds to accpt as real.  We cannot change the past; we can only strive to be better to make sure the future does not re-live the past.

Pithiness

Time to talk about a word.  As I have said before, I like words.  Depending upon your point of view, I can spend or waste a lot of time looking up a word in the dictionary.  Sometimes I just want to check on a variant spelling; sometimes I am narrowing down the meaning and right there my focus is lost as my eyes flit over scores of words.  I find myself reading down a whole column before I remember I need to get back to the task at hand or my computer will go into screensaver mode and I realize I am not even within the bounds of the first letter of the word I was trying to look up in the first place.  The word for tonight is 'pithy' - 'of, like or full of pith'.  Sounds daring.  Well, what is pith.  I think of fruit having pith so it's sort of the meat of the matter or something with substance.  Pith has substance, gist or vigor.  According to the dictionary, 'pithy' means 'full of substance, meaning or force, as a pithy style.'  So, pithy stresses a deeper, more substantial meaning to what is being expressed.  While a useful word, I have also discovered pithy is also a fun word to use when playing word games.  Having been challenged for use of this word on the grounds that I had both made up the word and was trying to lead a group of students astray by deliberately mispronouncing a word which was not exactly school appropriate, I pulled out my dictionary and won the round.  Words can be lifesavers and gamesavers; nevertheless, the study of words can be a pithy experience to round the corners of life's expressions.

Just when you thought you were safe

Ah, Springtime!  I love this time of year.  The days slowly lengthen.  Even though the wind still howls it somehow feels warmer.  One can stand outside at night to bask in the beauty of the stars without feeling too chilled.  The grass changes from a ruddy brownish hue to a lovely shade of green.  Trees and shrubs begin to leaf out so quickly the changes go from weekly to daily and almost hourly in their growth.  Bulbs which have been peeking out of the ground are suddlenly tall stalks with flowers waiting to burst open and then one by one the yard is exploding in the colors of crocuses, hyacinths and paperwhites all in shades of yellow, white or purple.  The daffodils and jonquils rapidly take over shouting their glory in hues of yellow and orange with a touch of white.  Purple and red lilacs scent the neighborhood and tulips provide a flourish of pinks, yellows, orange, red and purple.  Sometimes they are ruffled and others striped to add to their performance.  The short winter brought my spring flowers out early this season.  The irises seem to have sprung up overnight and are just beginning to open.  Not to be outdone, all the cats in the area decide it is time to stake a claim and go through their rituals for procreating.  Birds flock back to the area; some more noisily than others as they too locate safe havens for nesting and choosing their mates.  Though the days are growing longer we have to put up with the ridiculous daylight savings time, but get used to it after a few months in time to turn the clocks back once more.  Storm windows are removed and houses are opened up to the cleanliness of the awakening earth.  Warmer weather also allows one the chance to open up the windows at night to breathe in the fresh air and get a truly good night's sleep and all is right with the world.  Nevertheless, just when you thought you were safe, it is too late.  There is nowhere to hide from the pungent perfume wafting on the gentle breeze of those cute, little, black and white, nocturnal critters wandering about leaving their own telltale mark on an otherwise peaceful night.