You may say I'm a dreamer ....

I've not chosen a particular WORD in several years now. Yet, without rhyme or reason, IMAGINE came to my mind several weeks ago … and stayed put.  I'm not going to over-think it; but simply, go with the flow.

No doubt I'm in the minority ….. 
but (some of) John Lennon's lyrics spoil my enjoyment of his iconic song.

No sooner had I confided as much to Victor, when he directed me to this version by Fr. Francis Maple.  I hope you enjoy it, too!

Happy New Year!

Myra

 

A Baker's Dozen

Happy Faces, Frowny Faces

When Jack posted some of his favorite (and not-so-favorite) things, I thought, "Great idea! I want to do that, too!"

It's taken me a few months, but here you are.  If something resonates, won't you let me know?

I like ...

The way Tom's voice sounds when he's talking to little Grace.


Mother and grandmother's handwritten recipes.


Cold mornings when I turn my car's heater on full blast, then roll down the windows. (Wheee…. I'm a hot fudge sundae!)


All things sloth … my spirit animal!

The Chipmunk's Christmas song. I don't care if I'm in a crowded elevator. When Alvin sings, "Me, I want a hula hoop"?  Well, it may not be pretty but I'm singing along, proud n' out-loud.

Large families … in particular, the Hartsock's of Albuquerque, N.M.  Mom Lindsey is always funny, sometimes naughty … and now, pregnant with #10!  (This, after having had her tubes tied!!!)
I think Betty will agree, we fans are super anxious to see if #10 is a boy or girl.

                                        and finally....

Everyone of you!

On the flip side....  

Now, I refuse to list any physical, emotional ills or natural disasters. Rather, random annoyances.....

When a reporter refers to an individual as 'elderly.'   Several lines later I discover he/she's younger than me!

Lotion pump bottles that never quite empty.  I've a couple hidden under the sink, bottoms up.  'Gonna get all I paid for!

Having to hunt to find (sometimes indecipherable) expiration dates.

Truth!!!!!

Swatting at gnats ….. which aren't actually there.

Cataracts, anyone?

'Busy' granite counter tops.  Can't tell you how many times I've had to perform the 'flat-hand pitty-pat' to locate a piece of floss, a hearing-aid battery, earrings, plastic bottle tops … all of which have disappeared into the pattern.

    

Insincere blog comments. I'll bet you know of what I speak.

Thank goodness, this blog's never been on the receiving end; you guys are the best!

Happy New Year!  Promise, you'll stay safe out there?

Hugs, Myra

Turn out the lights ...

..... the party's over.

… and just in time!  To borrow a phrase, I've been gaining weight faster than a month in pajamas.  

I'm so enjoying everyone's accounts of their holidays.  Ours was decidedly low-key, but super enjoyable.

… if you don't count Macie Ann's unexpected dysentery on Christmas eve-Eve.

Scrubbing snippets and bits all about the house (pre-coffee) while Johnny Mathis sings, "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year" is not my idea of waking to the wonder.

But then. That sweet face.

I ordered another smoked brisket from a little 'hole in the wall' butchery in old Wetumpka -- right behind this abandoned gas station (above).  They even cut it in half so we could freeze ours and still have plenty to bring to my son's.

Grandson-in-law Josh had to be back at work (North Carolina) Thursday morning, so he and Sarah had to get up early Christmas morning and drive home.  Halfway between their church and ours, they chose a Waffle House to snack and swap stories.

Hey, it's all good … unless you count the black mold décor dripping down the outside of the building. 

(Graphic strategically placed to hide my stomach!)

Candlelight services were lovely.  Even a few chuckles were had. Pastor wrote on her FB page, "When 'church baby' Kennedy comes up to the pulpit during message saying, 'Passer Janet', what does a pastor do? Well, pick up that baby and include her to bring the message of another baby."

Tom and I elected not to exchange gifts again this year in favor of buying something for the house down the road.  Even son and Lois have had to scale back, which is fine with me.  With their busy schedules and her parents and their (elderly-sometimes incontinent) animals living there, I did throw caution to the wind and got them a Rumba.

In addition to the brisket, Lois had prepared a big turkey and gravy, cornbread dressing, green bean casserole, and sweet potato pie.  And I was asked to bring another pan of my green chili cornbread. (Not counting the pan I made for Team #3 at the V.A., I think this is the 5th batch!)

Taste of New Mexico

I've not had horehound drops since I was a child!  Thanks, Debbie!

One of the Bible study gals gifted everyone homemade coconut oil/hemp cream.
Who'd guess?  In just a week it's made a BIG difference in my shoulder pain and mobility.

Oh, speaking of the V.A.  We're still in a waiting pattern. The doctor's nurse (UAB Birmingham) did call Monday to acknowledge receipt of his records. They're just working to coordinate a same-day consult with both the cardiologist and the valve clinic.

  The not-knowing and having to make last-minute reservations at a kennel is doing a number on my nerves.  I know there's no use in worrying, but still. Say a prayer, if you will?

Let's talk again soon.

Meanwhile, you know the drill ... be safe!

Hugs, Myra

Silent Night

Good evening friends,

Many of you will probably recall my favorite Christmas story. I've not many traditions, but sharing Shlomo's story has become mine.   I hope it touches your heart.

* * *

Of the narrow escapes my sister, Judith, and I had from discovery during our year in the orphanage, one stands out particularly. It was Christmas of 1944 -- a white Christmas, with snow falling outside, but warmth within from extra coal and larger food portions. We even had meat -- meat! A Christmas tree stood in the corner, and we children were seated on both sides of a long table nicely arranged with plates. We were singing Christmas carols, their simple and pleasant melodies totally out of context of the savage war that had been raging for six consecutive Christmases.

The pleasant feeling of food in our stomachs loosened our tongues, and contrary to the usual silence enforced during meals we were permitted by the sisters to converse quietly. Boys and girls were separated as usual, but Judith and I could see and smile at each other.

Then suddenly, the door opens and Mother Superior enters, accompanied by a German officer. Judging by his uniform he must be at least a general.

"Children," Mother Superior says, "the commander of the German garrison in Zilina is a devout Catholic, and he asked to spend the evening with you. He also brought you a nice present."

The present turns out to be a large chocolate cake. It is delicious, but I cannot escape an oppressive feeling. Even on this night must the Germans intrude on the tiny and shaky island of peace I have tried to carve out for myself? I notice, too, the tension on Judith's face as she eats her cake silently, her apprehensive eyes on Herr Commandant.

Again we sing some carols -- one of them "Silent Night, Holy Night," itself so close to a prayer.

When we finish there is a pause, and the commandant whispers something to Mother Superior. After a moment's hesitation she asks: "Is there anyone here who can sing 'Silent Night' in German? It will make our distinguished guest very happy."

Both Judith and I know some German; actually we had learned the German version of this song before the Slovak one. But should I now stand up and sing it for our enemy?

As I hesitate I see Judith slowly rise from her chair and walk toward the commandant. The decision has been made for me, so I stand beside her and we join our voices: "Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht ..." As we sing, the face above the medals becomes animated and involved in our performance -- the lips move together with our words.

Then suddenly Judith gasps and stops, terror in her eyes. She has suddenly realized what I, too, had feared: Why are we two the only children who know the German version? Where are the others? 

The answer is simple, and surely the German officer knows it. In this part of the land it is only Jews who understand German. 

The Commandant has trapped us -- he knows we are Jewish.

He motions to us to approach. It seems an eternity before he speaks. Then looking at us, he says softly: "Hab keine Angst, deine Mutter und Vater werden zuruck kommen" -- "Don't be afraid, your mother and father will come back."

For him, too, it was a silent night.

When I first shared Shlomo's story in 2008, I had no idea if his was a first or last-name - or any other information about he and his sister.  I then consulted Google and discovered a source document in a 1993 edition of the Chicago Tribune.

* * *

From our home to yours ...

Sweet dreams and wishes for a merry, merry Christmas!

Hugs,

Myra

Hiraeth ... etc.

Generally, I try guard against looking back over my shoulder for very long …. lest I walk into a light pole or something.

But! There's a certain something about chilly, rainy weekends that invites nostalgia.  For instance?  Yesterday morning I had this craving for a bowl of Malt-o-Meal -- something my mother made me eat, despite the fact I hated it.  Do they even make that anymore?

One of my favorite things about adult-ing: I settled for a bag of popcorn, a Hershey's kiss …. and called it breakfast.

Thanks for allowing me a Sunday show-and-tell?

Omega Bridge, Los Alamos, NM

I was never any good, but enjoyed ice skating for hours and hours at the outdoor rink in the canyon below.

That's me in the red pants (ca. 1972) helping Troy learn to skate.

Before it was a 'thing' my parents had Charlie Brown trees.

… and received lots of cards.

Don't let the dress fool you …

This was my kind of clothing.

A 'few' years later ...

The picture quality is awful, but this 1985 image with Troy and my mother is a favorite. It was a Very Good year.

Oh, the irony!
My former husband named these ceramic figurines, "Sarah and Joshua."  33 years later g'daughter Sarah would meet and marry Joshua.

* * *

OK, enough meandering down Memory Lane!
Here are a few snapshots from our Bible study brunch.

Because I was too 'scotch' to go out and buy a Christmas sweater, I grabbed the little battery-operated lights we used on last year's tree.

 

I think the Miss Creativity award goes to Shannon (left). She disemboweled an old pillow and used the stuffing and a glue gun to create her 'snow suit.'

For someone who coded in the back of an ambulance just a couple months ago, 72 y/o Brenda (right) looks mighty cute!

Love these ladies to distraction.

… almost as much as I do y'all!

Truth!

I hope to be back again before Christmas with an 'oldie but goodie.'  In the meantime, please keep warm and safe!

Hugs, Myra

 

Sunday thoughts ...

aka, diets be darned!

G'evening y'all!  

Outside my window?

Just kidding!

This picture was taken from my parent's front porch more than 50 years ago.   Little wonder, Winter was my favorite season.

I'm thinking ...

Our new tree doesn't require ornaments.

Love that it changes color every 3-4 seconds... which is perfect for us since Tom prefers the colored bulbs and me the gold.

I'm thankful

To be able to celebrate my son's 50th birthday with he and Lois in person!

Back when Troy was young, my mother began gifting him a can of cashews for his birthday each year.  So after she died, I took up the tradition.

Almost looks like I wrapped a roll of toilet paper, doesn't it?  Since I ran out of tissue paper, I improvised using this photo of her at one of his childhood parties.

We met at a Japanese steakhouse where the entertainment is nearly as good as their food.  When the chef learned someone was celebrating a birthday he split a big old onion 3 ways and set it on fire to resemble a cake!

Oh, my goodness!

I've never tasted 'loaded' grits before. Have you?

One of the gals at Bible study was talking about a new little café nearby called "Grits" (aka, Girls.Raised.In.The.South).  Since they're only open 3 days a week, we decided to check it out yesterday morning.  Soooo good!  The menu description read, "Grits with cheese, sausage, peppers, more sausage and more cheese."  Learning that they make their own bread every morning, Tom thoroughly enjoyed his French Toast.

When I wasn't furiously spooning grits in my mouth, I was lusting after these salt and pepper shakers.

Do I need them?  Noooo.  But I'd sure like them!

I'm looking forward to

Tomorrow morning's Bible study and potluck holiday brunch.  Because most of the ladies claim to like spicy food, I'm bringing a crock pot of my Hatch pork stew and perhaps, more cornbread.

Every single time this commercial airs Tom gives me the 'look.'  And when, at the end, the waitress chuckles I know she and I are soul sisters.

Makes me smile

More Coosada decor fashioned from bales of hay!

Finally, a favorite thing

Mother bought this for me years and years ago. It's the first thing I put out each holiday.

Let's chat again soon!

Please, stay safe..... and warm!

Hugs, Myra

Sunday Scraps-book

Outside my Window

I hate to admit it, but my bones have begun to feel like these tree limbs look.

While Inside ...

The fire's so delightful.

(Ya, in my dreams.)

I may still break down and buy one of those fake free-standing electronic fireplaces.  Secret Santa days ….. from me to me!

Thankful

To have all my Christmas shopping done.

Don't you love this pretty pillowcase?

"Naps are my Happy Hour"

Looking for a 'little something' for the person who has everything? The folks at Faceplant Dreams (an ETSY storefront) have a great selection -- all for less than $20!  (And no, I wasn't asked or promised anything to promote them.)

Thinking About

While massaging coconut oil into my fingertips before church …

the sad state of my hands.  Daddy's hands.

Before being hired, I took care to make sure my nails were neat and subtly polished.  Well, between nerves and whatever, the nails began to split down to the 'quick', and my cuticles resembled someone who tried hand-feeding a piranha.

The skin on the back of my father's hands would actually split open from the dry, wintry air.  Sometimes he'd apply iodine from itty-bitty glass tubes.  Stuffed with cotton, one would break the tiny tube in half, and viola'!  The cotton would become saturated with Mercurochrome.  As a little girl, I like to play with those magical little vials.

Does anyone else remember them, or was that just a government-issue thing?

A Favorite Thing

Inexplicably, Tom's been given to sudden chills coming from deep inside.  I've even discovered him asleep in the recliner clutching my childhood heating pad to his chest.  (If you want to do the math, imagine the state of that electrical cord!)

When my DIL showed us what she bought for her father I had to get one for Tom.  It's oversize (50" x 60") and has 3 heat settings to keep him toasty warm.

Looking Forward to

We finally got the V.A. authorization + the name of a surgeon in Birmingham!  'Sure hope they'll call soon with our marching orders!

A Closing Thought

* * *

Have fun, but stay safe!  As my DIL and many of you can attest, there's plenty of creeps out there.

Hugs, Myra

  

Recollectin'

Good morning!

I wanted to share some thoughts and images before, like so many things, my favorite month becomes a memory.

Backing up a couple weeks --

The funeral home's Thanksgiving observance last week was really nice. I felt a bit awkward walking in ... not knowing what sort of reception I'd get, but almost everyone was friendly and generous with their hugs.

After the fact, Miss Beth even commented (that) my Hatch chili cornbread was a big hit. 

Before leaving, I took Tom on a drive through the cemetery.  On behalf of my late father (a fan), we stopped to pay respects to Governor Wallace.

Love the near-Winter sky!

There's little that can put me in a holiday mood, like cold(ish) weather … and happily, Mother Nature obliged.  Granted, the 26* temps I enjoyed didn't stick around, but I've high hopes for December and January.


Our Thanksgiving was pretty low-key, but enjoyable.

Belatedly I observed, "Tie One on Day" by digging out my mother's 'cobbler' apron.

.. and nagging asking Tom to do the same.

For a myriad of good reasons, my DIL has been extremely stressed.  Despite a 25-lb. weight loss and not feeling like a crispy critter, Lois still wore a pretty smile:

In addition to her turkey and green-bean casserole, we brought along a 12-1/2# brisket

  … and another batch of green chili cornbread.

So surprised when Tom -- who normally avoids Hatch like the plague -- enjoyed two big slices!  Have to admit, I've never been particularly fond of cornbread, but this recipe is super moist.

My mellow, handsome son

And pretty granddaughter, Chloe

I'd never heard of a Cinderella pumpkin before … have you?

Like a popular meme on social media, I saved 100% by not going out shopping yesterday.

Uh, cancel that.

I had to run to Food Outlet and pick up a box of ice cream sandwiches.  Seems 'someone' swore she purchased them earlier in the week, but we couldn't find them anywhere.  Until Thursday morning, when Tom went to put on a fresh shirt and discovered a Wal-Mart bag hung over the top of the dry cleaning hangers.  Oops.

As a few of you know, we're observing a State holiday today -- aka, the Iron Bowl.  I used to laugh at memes like this, but realize it's pretty much a fact:

 

I did get dressed and brushed my teeth … but there'll be no cooking no cleaning, no decorating. Bring on the queso dip and tortilla chips!

Oh. And not that I'm pessimistic, but figured the bottle of gin I bought along with Tom's ice cream might make today's outcome a little easier to take.  Ha!

Have a super and safe weekend, y'all!

(Sorry Linda … *smile*)

Hugs, Myra