RIP, Gary Coleman

Gary Coleman died this afternoon.  Two of his sayings from Different Strokes have been in my vocabulary for years.

The first is his most famous, in my opinion, “whatchutalkinboutwillis” – loved that one.

And the second I’ve been known to do a few times in my life, “I’m gonna hit those  milk and cookies ‘til the blues go away.”

He was only forty-two years old, so sad that he had to die so young…

Remembering a long ago country morning…

I gathered onions from the garden this morning and as I was standing at the kitchen sink cleaning them I had a flashback to when I was a child, watching Mother doing the same thing.

Except there was no sink, just a well in the back yard that you sank a bucket into to draw water.  There was a bucket in the kitchen that you filled, and a dipper to pour the water into my favorite old stainless steel bowl to clean them.  There was no air-conditioned kitchen to work in, or even a fan, so you did your work early in the morning before the heat of the day set in.  It was always my job to throw the onion tops on the ditch bank for the chickens, and I would do it and run back into the house because those chickens and I did not get along.

There was no pretty little glass to put the cleaned onions in, either, just a Ball fruit jar, and then she would put them on her round oak table, no doubt covered with an oilcloth to protect it from stains. And yes, we would eat the onions for breakfast, with ham and eggs and fresh tomatoes later in the summer.

I say it was so simple then, but was it really?  It was a hard life, but it was all we knew.  The older I get, the more I admire my mother for her strengths.  Her life was never easy, but she did the best she could.  I wish I could sit on the porch swing with her this morning, sipping sweet tea out of one of those fruit jars, and tell her what a good woman she was and how much I appreciated all she did for me.  I wish…

I’m going to give Eat, Pray, Love another chance…

I never watch Oprah anymore, but I did earlier this week when Julia Roberts was on talking about her new movie, Eat, Pray, Love.

I tried reading the book when it came out, just couldn’t get into it.  I’m so used to trash reading, that anything else seems boring to me.  But I need to broaden my horizons badly, everything I read has the same story, the same ending, so I’m going to give this one another go.  Tomorrow’s the day, I’m going to read, not skim, which I have a bad habit of doing, see if I can find my groove with this book. I tried several Jane Austen books last week, they didn’t do it for me.  There has to be something of substance out there that I will enjoy.  Surely, I’m not that shallow, surely…

I’m looking forward to the movie, the trailers looked really good.  I still don’t like Oprah, though! 

Water…

I’m one of those people, unfortunately, who doesn’t enjoy water.  However, Nisha and I were talking yesterday, and she said when she was visiting her sister-in-law that she had a pitcher filled with water and a whole sprig of mint.  Now doesn’t that sound interesting?  I have a big pot of spearmint right outside on my patio, I do believe I’m going to give it a try…

UPDATE:  I just filled the pitcher, put in the mint, hubby wanted to know why I put a bug infested weed  in the water pitcher and sat it in the fridge.  Men Schmen!!!!!

Flies, they must have a brain…

Darn these little annoying insects, I swear, every time I get a fly swatter, they disappear.  Put it down, they come back.  They’re smarter than I am.

Maggie has been napping on my computer desk, I don’t want to swat her, so I’ve been “trying” to smack this pesky fly without hitting her for the past few minutes.  Now she’s awake and helping, she’s biting at it when it flies through the air.  No doubt she will be more successful than me.  She’s smarter than I am, too…

It was just an ordinary day….

Today was a day like many others, just going through the routine, laundry, grocery store, loading the dishwasher,  boring, mundane, everyday chores.  And then I got a phone call and my day was full of sunshine.

It was Ryan, Abby has her first tooth!!!!!  I had this big, sappy grin on my face, I was just thrilled.  She didn’t ever act like she was teething, Lindsay just looked in her mouth and it was there.

If I’m this excited over a tooth, what will I be like when she takes her first step???

Oh, this Grammie business is such a kick in the pants.

She has a TOOTH!!!!!

Martha Stewart Summer Grilling Cookbook

I downloaded this PDF file and it’s a great cookbook.  Here’s the page to snag the download link,  it’s a goodie.  ~ jan

Martha Stewart Grilling Cookbook>>>

My Shape, interesting concept…

I was watching the news tonight and they were talking about this website, myshape.com – you put in all your personal information it finds the “perfect” clothes for your shape. Here’s part of what a review said about it -

What a great idea! MyShape.com is a website designed to help you find the best clothes for your body. Spend a few minutes taking your precise measurements, enter them into your profile along with your fashion and fit preferences and get great clothing suggestions that flatter your unique shape and match your style. Once you enter your measurements, the site determines which of 7 body types you are. You can then choose to shop the whole site, or narrow your search to the best clothes for your body type and personal style. MyShape offers the latest fashions for all age groups, shapes and sizes. Great finds and fits are on the way!

Here’s the click, it looks pretty interesting>>>

Hungry?

I’ve been busy today over at Jan CAN Cook.  Lots of new content, yummy muffins, raspberry scones that are calling my name, and some great recipes from The Noble Pig, including Snickerdoodle Pie, a must try for Ryan, the Snickerdoodle king in our family….  ~ jan

Here’s the quick click>>>

Ok, I’m definitely losing it….

When I posted the baby doll pajama blog earlier today, I thought it was familiar.  Duh, it’s because I posted the same picture and a totally similar article last summer!  I did a search on The Dish and it popped right up.

Jeez Louise, I’m really scraping the barrel for content these days.  Nothing like recycling.  Oh well, at least it was my own stuff, not somebody elses…

Baby Doll Pajamas…

If you happen to be a child of the 50’s, or even the 60’s, you will no doubt smile at this picture.  My mother made me pajamas just like these every summer.  In fact, this could easily be the pattern she used. 

She sometimes made them in gingham checks or seersucker, always out of cotton fabric, and when they were fresh off the clothesline, there was nothing better to sleep in.

So unlike today’s girls that sleep in tee shirts.  I wonder when they are my age if they will remember back to their tee shirt days, for no doubt young girls will be sleeping in something else by then, and they will look as dated as these pajamas look now…

A good memory on this warm summer day in Heavensville.  Sometimes I wish I would have kept a little chest full of my clothes when I was young.  How fun it would be to look back at them now…

The honeysuckle is in bloom….

For a few short weeks beginning mid-May the country air is filled with the  intoxicating smell of wild honeysuckle.

I’ve loved it since I was a child, sitting in the porch swing late evening, just breathing in the honeysuckle that grew profusely on our ditch bank.

And then when the boys were growing up, I remember sitting in the backyard with them, surrounded by wild honeysuckle, watching then play, and once again just breathing in the smell of it.

I’ve always been fortunate to live close to nature and the older I get, the more I enjoy the harmony of it.   It’s a wonderful thing, honeysuckle, and if you haven’t experienced it, you’re missing out on one of life’s simple pleasures.  Just go for a ride in the country some evening with your windows rolled down and breathe.  It’s a beautiful thing.  ~ jan

It's war....

I have this ongoing problem with the M&M's and fleas.  I think its because we live next to a horse pasture, but my friend, Trish, thinks that there must be a nest somewhere in the yard.  Whatever the reason, it's a royal pain in the patootie (literally for my poor little dogs) dealing with these fleas!

I use Frontline Plus, it works for two weeks and the fleas are back.  I've bombed the house repeatedly, sprinkled Borax on the carpet, and still we struggle.

I was p*ssing and moaning about this to Ang the other day, and she told me she's having great results with this flea med she uses on Chewie, her Westie.  So I called her vet, found out that it's a new product called Comfortis,  a beef flavored, chewable pill, no more putting that liquid on their backs and having to wait three days to bathe them, and it kills fleas within thirty minutes of administering it, and they stay off the dogs for the entire thirty days.

It sounded too good to be true, but I read a lot about this product online and people are thrilled with the way it works.  Of course you do have the few dissenters who say it killed their dog, but that's to be expected.  I read over and over about people who have the same problem that I have, Frontline Plus not working after a couple of weeks, but Comfortis actually works for the entire month.

So the girls are now flea free, we'll see how this works out, and I'll update you next month.

All I know is that I have two happy little fur kids, and for $30 a month for two pills, let's hope this works better than Frontline.  I also tried Advantix, but Mags was allergic to it.  She started scratching as soon as I put it on her at bedtime, and I had to bathe her in the middle of the night to get it off.  It's been an absolute nightmare, dealing with these fleas, let's hope this stuff works!!!!!

It's that time of year, and we were in the strawberry patch at 7:30 yesterday morning.  Okay, so hubby was in the strawberry patch, Maggie and I were sitting talking to the lady that owns the field, drinking coffee.

And no, this isn't the field, I got this picture off the web, our local strawberry patch is a bit run down, kinda weedy, too, but oh the berries are wonderful this year.  Hardly any core, full of flavor, they are amazing...

Mother always had a patch when I was a little girl, she would always be so excited, watching them turn red, picking the first of the season.  I never liked them that much as a child, didn't understand what all the hoopla was about, but now that I'm old mature of a certain age, I think they are wonderful.

I hulled them, put them in mother's stainless steel bowl, just like she did all those years ago, used the chopper to chop them and release the juice, sprinkled on the Splenda, made a shortcake with Heart Healthy Bisquick.

Wait a minute, what's wrong with this picture???  Splenda, Low Fat Bisquick???  This isn't the way I was raised.  We drowned them in sugar, made that wonderful pie crust out of lard and layered the berries between and topped it with real whipped cream.

Which is, no doubt, in part of the problem now.  And the reason I make them with Splenda and Low Fat Bisquick. :o(

But they were still wonderful, warm biscuit, berries, and a dollop of.... butter pecan ice cream.  Huh, butter pecan ice cream???  Yep, it's so much better than vanilla on warm anything, and not at all healthy, but sometimes a girl's just gotta live a little.

I was talking to Hooterville earlier, she loves her on a split biscuit, no doubt slathered with butter.  Oh, why can't the good things in life be healthy.  *sigh*  They never are.

But I did have some of them this morning on top of my oatmeal.  And thought of mother and that wonderful old stainless steel bowl that I write about so often.  Good memories, on this cool, cloudy Sunday in Heavensville...

Calamity Jane

I was driving down Vann Avenue, there was a new curb and a crook in the road  I was gawking at the park, hit the curb, bent a rim, ruined a tire.  Oh what a fun time that was!!!

Hubby just laughed and said he was glad I didn't get hurt.  Bless his little pea-pickin' heart, and thank gawd his testosterones have simmered down in his old age.  Twenty years ago he woulda pitched a hissy.

We do get smarter in our older age, well some of us do anyway.  Sometimes I think I'm pretty much dumb and dumber!  Duh...

Every Day in Tuscany by Frances Mayes

If you’re looking for a good read, full of scenery, simple life, gardens, countryside, this is the book for you. 

From the author of Under The Tuscan Sun and Bella Tuscany, Mayes picks up the story twenty years later. 

I’m really enjoying it, thought some of you might enjoy it also.  No, I didn’t buy it, I downloaded the ebook from the library.  If you’re a reader and not accessing ebooks, you’re missing out.  They’re wonderful, and free if you can access them online from your local library.  And what else is in my Adobe Digital Reader?  Raquel, Jenny Sanford’s Staying True, and Carol Burnett’s autobiography – just released books, all free, works for me

~ jan

Here’s the excerpt from Amazon -

"The Bard of Tuscany" (New York Times) is back and better than ever. Two decades have passed since the purchase of Bramasole, Frances Mayes’s first Italian adventure into the meaning of home, made famous in Under the Tuscan Sun and Bella Tuscany. In Every Day in Tuscany, her third beautifully rendered memoir, Mayes generously serves up another delicious helping. She continues to contemplate the satisfaction of a life created by one’s own hard work, but also celebrates the joys of the piazza, reminisces on her South Georgia roots, reveals her love of architecture and painting, and is especially hungry to follow the trail (which she has generously mapped out for us) of Renaissance painter Luca Signorelli.

After transforming Bramasole, you’d think that Mayes would have had enough of repairs and renovations, but she expands the idea of belonging with the purchase of a mountainside cottage. One day, as she and husband, Ed, are picking blackberries on a rugged slope above Cortona, Mayes writes of being "fatally attracted" to a "lonesome beauty," a partially collapsed stone-roof cottage. This new home becomes a place of comfort, especially when something shifts, when "one glorious summer evening at Bramasole," Mayes writes, "something unexpected intruded on this paradise."

Enchanted by the simple life, a life lived in accordance with the cycles of the sun and moon, Mayes tells her story through the seasons of a country and those of the heart. Winter is about restoring privacy, summer for reading, moonlight swims, watermelon and plum crostata. Mostly, though, the seasons are made up of days meant for being. She admires the Italians for their ease and grace of pure existence. "How do Italian friends naturally keep the jouissance they were born with?" she wonders.

Since Mayes is a poet first, her prose is infused with startling and indelible moments, and she will always inspire you to cook something. Luckily, there are recipes for everything from Melva’s Peach Pie to Risotto with White Truffles, as well as mouthwatering menus, including Roasted Garlic with Walnuts and Guinea Hen with Pancetta. Of the choreography of the kitchen, she writes, "meat glistens, lettuces float, you sneeze, I sing oh, my love, my darling, and dough rises in soft moons the size of my cupped hand as planet earth tilts us toward dinner."

People are always eating in Mayes’s world, and eating well. But good food is essential for a good life, which includes travel and the private discovery of something no less significant than a new star. On watching a couple from Milan eat a midday meal consisting of a full antipasto platter, risotto, then steaks, she writes, "Those are delicious moments for the traveler--a fine lunch with someone you love, poring over the The Blue Guide and Gambero Rosso, a weekend to explore a new place and each other."

More than anything, Every Day in Tuscany is a book for all travelers, those hungry hearts craving a lesson in living life to the fullest, whether at home or on the road. "It is paradoxical but true," she tells us, "that something that takes you out of yourself also restores you to yourself with a greater freedom.... The excitement of exploration sprang me from a life I knew how to live into a challenging space where I was forced--and overjoyed--to invent each new day."

With Mayes as our luminous North Star, we can navigate our way to a place where--if we are lucky--we will choose the road less-traveled, find our own rugged mountainside, and become part of the landscape, perhaps even find a sense of self, if not a place to call home.

Sweet little drooling Abby...