Friday, April 20, 2012

I need to “remember” to practice what I preach…


I used to be in the habit of regularly telling myself, “you can do just about anything, Jan, if you just take your time.”  But that kind of fell by the wayside, as do  most things with me.  I’m old(er), I forget.  I was getting hubby’s script filled this morning, he has a bug and hasn’t felt well all week.  The clerk asked for my address and I just went blank. I  looked at her with this silly vacant stare and could not remember my street number for anything.  She was about my age, she laughed and said she forgot her phone number and had to speed dial her husband to find out what it was.  Oh, old(er) age is such a hoot!

But back to my story,  I have fleurs sitting in a flat, waiting to plant.  Most of them can wait, but I have several  “Peachy Keen Superbenas” that I really wanted to get in the ground, as it’s going to rain all weekend, and there is nothing like rainwater to give plants a good start.

So I loaded Milly up with a trowel, a bucket to sit on, Epson Salts, more about that later, a Diet Coke, my plants, and, with Maggie riding shotgun, we headed for the patio.

I unloaded the golf cart, ensconced Miss Maggie in a comfy chair, took Butterbean out of his rabbit hutch and gave him a snuggle, and finally gathered everything around me and sat down on the bucket to plant the verbena.

Well there were roots, lots and lots and lots of roots, and my trowel wasn’t going through them, and I was thinking, drats, I wish Larry were out here!  But he wasn’t, and then I calmed myself and told myself once again, “you can do just about anything Jan, if you just take your time.”

I wasn’t in a hurry, a gentle breeze was blowing from the north, Maggie was snoozing nearby in the chair, so I just sat there and slowly chipped away at the soil and the roots.  It took me awhile, but they are planted, all ready for the rain, and I smiled to think that it was such a little thing, but it gave me such pleasure to accomplish it.  So just take your time, ladies, chip away a bit at whatever you’re doing, a little at a time, and you’ll get there. 

Oh, about those Epson Salts.  We have a local legend in Heavensville, a great gardener, who’s often on the news programs giving advice, and he said to sprinkle a tablespoon of Epson salt in the hole before you plant your flowers, it’s good for the plants, promotes strong stems, growth and vivid blossoms.  So I sprinkled away, we’ll see what kind of results I get from doing this.

And earlier I was down by the woods, I go every day on Milly, just observe nature, enjoy the smells, the trees, the dappled sunshine.  I took this picture of what I like to think of as “wild fleurs” but they’re probably just “weeds.”  Nevertheless, they’re nature, and they’re so pretty…


Wednesday, April 18, 2012

This is so true…


Mom had so many sayings, you’ve heard me mention a lot of them before.  My two all time faves are:

I’d rather take a lickin’ from a chicken

She drove her ducks to a poor market (meaning she didn’t marry well)

My boys quote grandma all the time.  Their favorites are:

“Everything tastes better with a little brown sugar”

“Done or raw, it’ll fill your craw”

Mother would be 94 now, so of course these are really oldies, but goodies Rolling on the floor laughing

Sunday, April 15, 2012

So I’m in the kitchen making Salad-in-a-Jar

I’m watching FoodTV, I always have it on in the kitchen, and Paula Deen’s son, Bobby is at their Mother And Sons restaurant, and he’s  hugging on this sweet, jolly black lady who has been cooking for them for the past ten years and her nickname is “Jellybelly.”

Well, something just clicked when I heard that nickname, and if I don’t get a handle on my food intake, I’m going to be using it as my handle when I sign off.  That’s just the cutest name I’ve heard since “Butterbean.” 

I think I’ll take it for a spin right now.

Hope you’re all having a good Sunday!

~ Jellybelly  Nyah-Nyah

My eggs this morning were a religious experience, SERIOUSLY!


Hubby went to a town wide rummage sale yesterday morning and he came back with not one, not two, but three dozen eggs, sold to him by some old hippie looking women out of the back of their truck.  Just look at these brown speckled beauties. Aren’t they awesome?

The taste is so amazing, it’s unreal the difference in fresh eggs.  The yolks are so golden yellow, the taste is so fresh, it’s indescribable.

I took things like this for granted when I was growing up.  We always had hens, and I was terrified of them, too.  They would peck the heck out of me when I tried to get their eggs. I still remember their fat tummies, and how warm the eggs felt as I tried to scoot them out from underneath the irritated hens.

But I’ve looked at Martha Stewart’s bevy of beautiful hens over the years, and often wondered what it would have been like to just have had a couple of gorgeous chickens.  But then you have to get a rooster, and those suckers can be mean.  I always wanted a duck, too.  And don’t get me started on the horse!

I’m just an old country girl, sitting here this morning, drinking horrid decaf coffee because I’m out of regular, watching the finches on the feeder, my windows are open, the birds are singing, the sun is shining, and I once again live in the country!

It doesn’t get better than this.  Well, if Abby were coming to spend the day it would be better.  *sigh* 

I firmly believe that families should all live within a fifteen mile radius of each other.  I think it should be some kind of national law, and I just bet most grandmothers would agree with me!

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