Thank God another January is behind us

I always feel better once we close the time out on January.  Though February is still cool here, I know we’re through the worst part of winter now and on the slide toward spring and summer, my two favorite seasons of the year.

So hurray, January is over for a while again. We can look forward to Groundhog Day or Candlemas, whichever you celebrate.  Both are early spring celebrations.  We don’t have a long while to wait now until new green shoots appear on plants and flowers.  This means more work but it’s so much better than shivering in the cold amidst brown twisted branches.

I’m always thankful the worst of winter is behind us.  Soon we’ll be off making summer plans, or fulfilling some of those resolutions, if it’s been too cold to do them. 

We continue to have the most beautiful sunsets.  I was out running errands and rushed home to grab the camera and capture some of the colors.  It was one of those evenings that started out all gold and then turned orange and pink and spread all over the sky.  I never get tired of the sunsets.

I've also received a new printer from HP finally.  I've been talking with them for a month about this as my printer doesn't work and it's not even a year old.  So I got the new one today but haven't hooked it up yet.  I wasted two hours driving to the airport and back trying to track down the places where the citizen's police academy will be held.  I'd rather know ahead of time.  So what a day.  I got nothing accomplished.

My class starts a week from yesterday, so I’ll be posting about that soon.

Merry Christmas to all

I can’t tell you how happy I am that I made it to this day.  Working can be a real bear at times, although I must say there are the sweetest people that come around just at the right moment.  If it wasn’t for that perhaps many of us would have thrown in the towel long ago.

So we’ve made it to the end of another Christmas season, although we expect it to be somewhat busy next week as people stock up and prepare for New Years.

It rained all day today and the store was semi-busy.  But there were few messes except for the few shoppers who thought they could shake off the shopping cart in the middle of the store, which only made situations worse by causing big puddles for people to trip in.  What’s wrong with people’s thinking?  “But this cart is wet,” they complained.  Well no shit, Sherlock, it’s raining outside.  Of course we didn’t say this but, really, what do people expect?

I’m just so happy to stay home tomorrow and cuddle up with my cats who love me all the time and aren’t judgmental over anything.  Boy we could all take a lesson from our pets.

However you’re celebrating the holidays, have a happy and healthy one.  Relax and enjoy loved ones if you can.  I feel like such an awful fur Mama because I didn’t bother putting up the tree this year.  But then it’s easy to forego that when it’s only me, hubby, and the cats and no family.  Still that’s not much of an excuse because I do it for the cats who love to tear into a tree.

Have fun, stay safe and celebrate like there’s no tomorrow.  Real life is coming back real quick.

Celebrate the Summer Solstice

This is the longest day of the year and worthy of celebrating.  It’s “high summer,” as they say, because it’s downhill from here with the days getting shorter by one to five minutes each depending on where you live.  This is hard to notice for about a month.  Right now we’re enjoying daylight at 9:30 in the evening here in the desert and I love it!

It’s time to throw veggies from the garden onto the grill and enjoy them with the rest of your meal.  Veggies that grill well are summer squash, peppers, eggplant, asparagus and onions.  Simply slice them and toss in olive oil with salt and pepper and a little garlic if desired and grill for eight to twelve minutes.  Delicious!

This is my sister Scherri  Happy Birthday, lady!

One of my sisters and I have birthdays a year and a day apart on the Summer Solstice and Father’s Day.  When we celebrated as kids, we always did it together.  As adults, we’ve always lived in different time zones so we started a tradition where we call each other at midnight in the later time zone.  That way it’s a chance for us to celebrate together because it can be both of our birthdays at the same time.  We’ve done this for several decades.

Get together with friends and family, if it’s possible, and take advantage of the long sunny days because before you know it we’ll all be in the grip of winter again.

So everyone, do you have traditions for the longest day of the year?

Thanksgiving



This is probably my favorite holiday because I think we should be thankful for all our blessings and I’m glad a day is set aside to remind people to be thankful, if they need reminding. I really get upset today when I see all the Christmas decorations out way before Thanksgiving has arrived. Every year this gets earlier, and has almost squeezed Thanksgiving out of the mix altogether.


When we were growing up, Thanksgiving was the only holiday that we all got together to eat and make merry. By all, I mean our first cousins, aunt, and uncle who lived on the same farm with my daddy’s parents and us. It was a day we could put all of our feuding with each other on the back burner and just enjoy all that life had to offer. This great feast always happened at Mamaw’s house every year, but of course, this all changed once we started growing up, moving away to lead our separate lives, and our grandparents passed away.

Rosenberg Mamaw (daddy’s mother) would always cook the turkey and dressing every year. We were all too young then and not allowed in the kitchen, so I’m not sure if all the adults would contribute to this dinner other than taking part in all of the cooking that went on and there was lots of that.

Mamaw was a terrific cook and was always baking something. She would start out a couple days ahead making the pies and cakes, cookies and kolaches. I remember very well going into her big dining room and there on the buffet against one wall would be all the desserts lined up for Thanksgiving.

My aunt and mama would be in the small kitchen with Mamaw most of the morning getting all the food prepared. Of course, once we got over there, the house smelled like turkey and made all of our mouths water. Mamaw had gotten up around 5 am to get that big bird in the oven. With that 24-pound turkey almost done, they would start preparing all the other side dishes. Every time we kids would go in the kitchen, they would chase us out in the yard to play until it was ready.

Growing up in southern Texas, the weather is still very nice at Thanksgiving, sunny with leaves still on the trees, maybe just starting to turn color in places. It was definitely warm enough to play outside without wearing coats. As kids, we took full advantage of this.

Mamaw’s yard was huge and we would get into playing all kinds of games: tag, hide-and-seek, red rover-red rover, Simon says, jump rope and many other things. We could spend hours out there. Most of the yard was green lawn with a narrow cement sidewalk splitting it in two. The garden sat in an area off to the left of the house. The rest of the yard surrounded by trees growing next to the fence, large sprawling paper shell pecans, crepe myrtle, mulberry, with fig trees across the back of the house that faced the main highway into town. A large peach tree grew by the sidewalk about midway between the house and gate that led out to the chicken coop, the barns, and “jelly man hill” by the pump house.

The milk house was also out there across the road, a place where we’d like to go in the hot summers because it was very cool in there, once used for processing milk, as my grandparents used to run a dairy before we were born. When we were growing up the diary had long gone, except for milk used by the family, which Mamaw cooked on the stove and bottled, the cream skimmed off to make homemade butter, which each of us got to experience as part of growing up in the country. Mamaw now used this small block building for a washhouse and usually kept it locked to keep us out of there.

The fenced off cow pastures lie beyond that with farmland off to the other side. We made use of most of these places to play our games, but on Thanksgiving generally sticking close to the yard. We wanted to hear that call to dinner, which was usually around 2 pm. We had all worked up quite an appetite by then.

Mamaw had a large dining table, but not big enough to seat 6 adults and 13 kids, so she sat up card tables that stretched from the dining room into the living room. This is where most of the kids had to sit, the privilege of sitting at the grown up table left to the oldest kids. After fixing plates for all the younger kids, we could sit down and serve our own.

Her dark brown table, always dusted to a high shine, was barely visible under all the plates, platters, and bowls of food. Everything smelled terrific and we dug into out turkey and dressing with gusto. There would be several vegetables and of course, the usual green bean casserole, sweet potato casserole, cranberries, home baked rolls with homemade butter, and plenty of iced tea in mason jars.

With a sufficient amount of turkey and all the trimmings consumed, it was time to cut into the delicious baked goods. It was really hard to make up your mind on this, being pretty stuffed already, but I usually always had to have a piece of homemade apple pie and of course at least one homemade kolache. The chocolate cake was hard to turn down as well, so we usually ended up so stuffed it was a wonder we could go back out in the yard and play, but we did.

The ladies would chase us kids out of the house and the men would sit on the porch “chewing the fat” and watching us, or lie down for a nap. We always seemed to have boundless energy and Thanksgiving was one day when we all got along.

It was wonderful to be out there playing and not having to face that enormous cleanup that we helped with, as we got older. As I reflect back on my childhood, it really didn’t seem fair at all to make the women do all the work while the men sat around. I guess that’s the way it was in those days, what a man expected out of a farm wife. Not only did they do all the cooking and cleaning, they did many chores and worked the fields along with the men. Farm women had long days and never stopped until long after the men folk were able to relax. I made up my mind back then that I didn’t want that kind of life for me. I would have made a terrible pioneer woman and I’m glad I didn’t grow up in those times, which were rougher than our farm life.

Today, all of us do our own thing for Thanksgiving. All of the family doesn’t get together anymore, but some of us live in different states now. The married ones still living in TX usually get together with the in-laws. Occasionally, they take Mama out to eat separately. Daddy passed away in 1980, so Mama lives with one of my sisters now.  Of course we'll all remember Daddy this year as we eat our feast because it would have been his 88th birthday.

My husband and I usually enjoy a quiet Thanksgiving meal, on a small scale, staying home with the cats, occasionally getting together with friends where everyone brings a dish to share.

Have a blessed Thanksgiving all; no matter how you celebrate this important holiday.

Fourth of July



We never did much in the way of activities that took place off the farm as kids.  Growing up on the farm was about farm chores and going to school.  The fourth of July was a highlight in our lives, along with hunting Easter eggs in the hay meadow.

Back then, they had a fireworks extravaganza at the fairgrounds.  There is no other word to describe this spectacle of color.  Daddy would buy bottle rockets and sparklers from the fireworks stand in town and we could enjoy them at home with his guidance, but once in awhile we’d talk him into taking us to the fairgrounds for the fourth of July show.

We would load up the old pink and white station wagon and head out for the fairgrounds, which was on the far side of the little town we lived three miles away from.

All of us kids would be chattering away all the way there, so excited to go.

Once we arrived, we had to jockey for a position with all the other vehicles that had already arrived.  From what I remember of the fairgrounds, the ground was very uneven, a lot of dirt with a few grass sprigs and clumps here and there.  People would park anywhere they could find a spot.

Once that car came to a stop, we couldn’t get out fast enough.  We would climb on the hood, or the top of the car, and get in position before the show started.  Usually the bickering over spots went on until the show was under way.

Then all you could hear was “oooh’s” and “aaah’s” as we all got quiet to watch the display.  This was like magic with a crackle and pop and then the explosion of colors in different shapes that seemed like they were materializing right over our heads.

Each one that went up was prettier than the last.  They would flicker and twinkle until they disappeared, only to have another take its place.

While this was going on, we would be sweating in the summer heat and the mosquitoes would be eating us alive.  However, we paid no never mind to this, slapped the mosquitoes away and went on with our comments to each other about how beautiful the fireworks overhead were.

We relished the finale when they would fill the sky with all the colors of the rainbow.  At the same time, we were sad the display was about over and wished it would go on forever.

Once back in the car, we would talk about it all the way home as well as scratch our mosquito bites and complain how bad the bites were.  Yet, when the fourth rolled around the next year, we couldn’t wait to get in the car to go and watch another fireworks display.

The fourth of July today, as adults, is bittersweet because it’s also a time to remember our daddy who died on this day in 1980, at the ripe old age of 55.  He had many health issues and definitely was gone too soon.

Sure, the fireworks are splendid with all the razzle-dazzle, but it’s also a time for reflection of those good times as innocent children.  I realize that Daddy was so tired all the time from the very long days of hard work he did in the fields, but he knew how certain things were so important to us that he didn’t want to disappoint us.  I know now that we probably couldn’t even afford the few fireworks he would bring home, but I think he wanted us to know that 4 July was something to celebrate.

When I look back on those times today, it also reminds me that life on Earth is too short sometimes and not to take anybody for granted because tomorrow is always a new day and things can change in an instant.