Making Progress

Sharing the progress that has been made. The addition has nearly all its fitted boards. They surround the room...walls and ceiling. It looks much lighter now than before when all that showed was the dark brown of the insulation backing. This makes me smile because the one thing we needed the most was light.

Soon we'll have to select light fixtures, which should be fun. I think. Maybe not. Two heads are not always better than one. ;>

Being a Nonni

This is my youngest grandson Jake who is a delight and who arrived just a year and six days after his big brother Sam.



Sam and Jake are two very bright spots in my life. They are active and fun and keep me from being too stodgy and old.

I might have imagined that granddaughters would be more in keeping with my rather girly tastes and interests, but you can not imagine how striped tee shirts and blue jeans appeal to me now. I used to wander by the little girls' section and look longingly at the sweet (way too sweet by half) outfits, but these days, I make a beeline for the tees and the jeans.

It's true what they say: "Grandchildren are God's way of saying that the world will go on."

Sunday Breakfast

Peanut butter cookies and milk...a complete protein. Why waste time with bacon and eggs? ;>

Yesterday I used Martha Stewart's recipe for peanut butter cookies; next time I'll be returning to my own. I've also been wondering if refrigerated peanut butter is making the difference between Martha's and my grandmother's recipe. Grandmother's recipe makes a crunchy on the outside, chewy on the inside cookie; Martha's recipe is all crunchy and heavy on flour.

Pre-diet, peanut butter was left in a cupboard because it was eaten rather quickly. Now it is stored in the refrigerator and maybe that could account for the difference. Perhaps I'll have to experiment. Nah, that would be complete and total sabotage.

The Sojourner

When I recall the summer about to pass, I may forget the year, but it will be known as Cross Creek Summer or the summer that I met Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings. I know that this is twice in not so many weeks that she's been mentioned, but I am thinking of her now as a dear friend. I want to sit down at her kitchen table and partake of her peach pie and sweet iced tea laced with something stronger. It doesn't matter that she died before I was even born...I can't part with her yet.

I was thrilled to learn that Rawlings had purchased a farm in the state of New York and had lived there in order to write about it. The result was The Sojourner. I was a bit concerned to learn that this book is a novel for reasons already stated — this need of mine to linger at her table. So I waffled about ordering (once again from Abe books) before finally placing my order and being done with it. Hope that I'll not be disappointed.

Now it's here; I'm very excited; I'll be reporting back. Off to tell my friend Skitten this news; she's the only one who really cares I suspect. :>

From the Pitiful to the Sublime

I am in the process of putting my garden to bed. My disappointing garden. It's a disappointment because gyspy moths attacked when I least suspected it and munched their way through my flowers before I even knew what was happening. They made nests in my lilac bushes that I was fortunate enough to discover before it was too late. Wish that I could say the same of my neighbor's lilac.



They took my beautiful deck pot from this



to this.



Granted, even the chomped version would look better with my little grandson Jake featured prominently front and center. Ha!

After some research, I discovered that even if it is a cold winter, gypsy moths will actually do better in the spring. They'll need less heat to wake up and be on the move. Isn't that just weird?

In the early 80s, gypsy moths chomped their way through acres and acres of forested areas. The sun shone down hot upon us in the middle of July because we lost our tree canopy. I shudder to even think about it. At its worst, the state sprayed the woods and that's the only thing that stopped them. I hope that spraying can happen again if these things stay on the move.

Okay, that's enough for the pitiful news, now I'd like to share a sublime blog from the UK. What I love about Ramblings From an English Garden are the photos of beautiful, lush gardens that enlarge when clicked upon. If you need a little down time, this is the spot for you.

A Valentine in September

Everyone has a few claims to fame and one of mine is knowing Juanita. One of hers is knowing Rob. It's a two degrees of separation thing. Ha!

Rob Kelley is the leader of a band called Blue Mist that hails from Austin, Texas. If any of you ever have the opportunity to attend one of Blue Mist's performances, don't miss it!

Valentine Lady is a song written for Juanita. I listen to it a lot! Hope that you'll have a listen, too.

Does Great Disaster Equal Opportunity?

Recently, a friend and I were discussing some pretty terrible events in the lives of some of our mutual friends and acquaintances. We can never really be aware of all that others are dealing with. So many suffer in silence.

At one point my friend sighed, drained her coffee cup, and said, "Well, they say that in China the symbol for great disaster is the same as the one for opportunity."

Gee, I really liked the sound of that so I went off on a little Google search this morning. This is what I found...



So, what do you think? Do they look alike to you?

No? No. Not at all.

But just because the story about the symbols didn't exactly hold true doesn't mean that great disaster doesn't equal opportunity, does it? Because I'm counting on disaster equaling opportunity.

Remembering

This morning, first thing, I lowered the flag to the half-mast position. September 11 will never come and go unremembered for as long as I live. This is true for most Americans, I am certain. There are those who still remember Pearl Harbor with the same devotion.

Six years ago, I was a preschool teacher on an excursion to the library with my students and other teachers. The hour 8:45 came and went without any particular notice as the class listened to the librarian read a story. This was followed by a craft time.

At 9:00, we were collected by our dear bus driver Gil who looked at each of us adults with pure terror in her eyes. I will never forget how pale and upset she looked. Gil had the radio on and the news was terrible. A plane had crashed into the north tower and all hell had broken loose.

One of the teacher's husbands was a construction worker in NYC at the time, and she began to weep softly. Just as news of the first jumpers came across the airwaves, I asked Gil to please turn off the radio. The little ones had become frightened, too, and were now asking questions. "Why are you crying, Mrs. M? What's wrong? Why are you all sad?"

By the time we had arrived back at school, the entire parking lot was filled with parents' cars and in less than 5 minutes, all the children had been scooped up and taken home. I was grateful for those concerned parents. I was grateful that the children would be home in the bosom of their families because, in my own fear, I had no idea how the day would end or if any of us would live to see the end of that day. It seems almost laughable today, but then it was my reality.

Today, another Tuesday, I think of all those who live in New York City who must rise again to the day despite their fears. May God bless them and all of us.

Rain

The rain is raining all around
It rains on field and tree
It rains on the umbrellas here
And on the ships at sea

Or something like that. Just remembering this off the top of my head...Stevenson, I think.

So, yup, it's raining. We need the rain. It matches my mood. I am hoping that in the same way that the plants need water despite being beaten down by it, that my spirit will be renewed even if I currently look a lot like this...drooping.

Needed: A Good Laugh

All those whacky little forwards that friends email me can be really annoying, but every now and then I find a keeper. And, lucky for me, I can share it with you and all because of You Tube. It's called Remember.

Here's a fun blog from a gal who gives me a laugh almost every day. She says that she's menopausal, but she looks too young. Anyway, visit her blog and have a chuckle on me right here at Just Livin' Large.

Decluttering

Not even sure that "decluttering" is a real word, but it's something that I think about every single day. It used to fill me with dread. No more. Now, I can't wait to get rid of things...like roses that are not quite up to snuff even if they did just arrive yesterday.

Anyway, this passion to get rid of things extends to almost anything with one notable exception — I have been collecting Country Living magazines for many many years. They have a special place in an old trunk at the foot of my bed. When the trunk gets full, I must purge. But it looks as if I have a lot of room yet.



However, this heavy trunk did result in my having to have my bedroom floor reinforced.



The things that I am willing to go through to satisfy my habit!

Leaving you with an article from Martha Stewart, loaded with links, called 100 Reasons to Get Rid of It.

Mother Theresa and More

Last week, when news of Mother Theresa's perpetual dark night of the soul was revealed in anticipation of the new book Mother Theresa: Come Be My Light, I felt such sadness...deep deep sadness.

This might seem odd to some because I am neither Catholic nor have I ever endured 50 years of abandonment or pain. According to the article I read, Mother Theresa wrote that the silence was so great that she looked and did not see, listened and did not hear. Just reading those words again, I feel that same pang that I did when first reading them. After all, this is Mother Theresa we're talking about...the wee woman who gave the lowliest of the low grace, mercy, and love just the way that the Lord did.

Strangely enough, I have been comforted by a humorous column written by Leonard Pitts Jr. of the Miami Herald. You can find his article right *here. My favorite quote from this article follows.

"You know, sometimes, I think atheists have a point. When you see nothing, when you feel nothing, isn't it logical to conclude it's because there is nothing?...I think the only reason I don't go with them is because of all those other times when you do see...something. When you feel so connected to something so vast it defies comprehension. It fills you. It settles you. It gives you peace. And you say to yourself, 'Lord, where did that come from? It couldn't be my imagination, because I couldn't imagine anything so...perfect.'"

A Slow Process

The contractor assured me that he'd be all done with our addition by the fourth of July...this year. He began in August 2006 and, so far, I see few signs that he'll be done before Thanksgiving. Good thing that I am a patient person. The price that we agreed upon has not changed except for the extras that have been tossed in.

Because of budget constraints, we didn't hire an architect. Might have been a big mistake, but it has been fun to look at those early representations that I worked up on PAINT and to see the reality of it now. We still have a long way to go, but I thought I would document two items for now.

This is the picture that began it all...



Source: Pella.com

And this is where we are so far (try not to laugh)...



It's not much, but it's all I have for today. Hopefully, before another year passes, there will be more to show.

It's a Banner Day

Oh, yes, it is. If you haven't visited before, I am in the middle of banner woes. I've seen all the wonderful ones that other bloggers have and I am jealous.

Yesterday, I spent much of the day visiting banner tutorial sites where I discovered that my fascination with creating blinkies was going to be a help...or not. Anyway, I think I've now created six banners. Very bad ones. So pardon me while I continue to fuss with it until I land on something that feels right.

Today is also back-to-school day here in the Northeast. In honor of that, and all my former years of teaching, I'd like to share a video of Taylor Mali. Apparently, he is or was an English teacher and his sense of wit and humor is razor sharp. Writing this blog has proven that my proofreading needs improvement so that's why I've chosen The Impotence of Proofreading. It's a bit racy so take warning.

Pemaquid and Points Beyond

"Throw roses on the sea where the dead went down.
The roses speak to the sea,
And the sea to the dead.
Throw roses, O lovers--
Let the leaves wash on the salt in the sun."
-Carl Sandberg
(1878-1967)





What a beautiful day my daughter and I enjoyed at the ocean yesterday!


A few days earlier, I had received an email from my dd who said that we should spend the day Sunday going to Pemaquid Point and other places. My daughter so rarely invites me on day trips that I thought that she had me confused with one of her friends, but when the Google map arrived, I emailed her: "Are you talking to me? Because, if you are, I'd love to!"

The day began at 9 a.m. and we didn't return home until nearly 13 hours later. What a fun time!

Just popping in a few of my photos now...









After leaving Pemaquid Point, we traveled on as far as Belfast
where we shopped at The Cherished Home. My daughter loved the colors that Genie has pulled together for her rooms. It was very soft and feminine. I even purchased a couple of items...a table runner and a flip-flop flyswatter. Maybe now I can keep my own flip-flops on my feet.



The day ended with ice cream of course! Thanks, darling, for a beautiful day and for teaching me so much about enjoying a stress-free driving time!!

When Morning Fills the Skies

After a fitful night of tossing and turning, dreaming about weeding plants that had long, ugly roots, but were easy to pull, I awoke with the words from an old hymn in my head... When morning fills the skies, my spirit awakening cries, may Jesus Christ be praised. Odd juxtaposition of thoughts, eh?

Well shoot! After I've been fiddling with this blog for days, editing, moving stuff around, tweaking, etc., I discovered that this blog is not set to private; never has been, never can be. Ha! My apologies to anyone who may have revisited and discovered this. Anyway, from now on, I shall just leave it as it is. Maybe. If I can stand it. I've been slogging more than blogging. Perhaps I'll be able to have more fun with it now.

Welcome, September!

I love the beauty of autumn with weather that is crisp as a Macintosh. It's not that summer doesn't have its delights, but autumn is my season and September is almost my favorite month.

Yes, I know that summer is not technically over for a few more weeks, but it "feels" like autumn and that's the important thing. There'll be fairs, fires, apple orchards, and apple pies.

The trees are already beginning the blush of the season. My neighbor's maple is tinged with melon hues...utterly charming.

Blueberry Muffin Day

There was something about my apron collection and the gorgeous day yesterday and, of course, the fresh blueberries waiting in the refrigerator that made it feel like a blueberry muffin day. Such days have to be bright and sunny with low humidity.

I actually couldn't find my favorite apron and then I remembered that it was still hanging over the cupboard door at my mother's. When I called and asked her if she noticed anything out of place in her kitchen, she couldn't think of a thing, but laughed when I asked what was hanging in the corner.

The apron wasn't the only thing that I couldn't find. I spent quite some time looking for my recipe book. With construction going on for over a year, many things have been packed away and the recipe book was one of them. Still, I found it eventually, and despite finding a blueberry cake recipe with the blueberry stains all over it to prove that I have used it many times, I couldn't find a muffin recipe.

The berries had been picked by a friend of my mother's and given to her. My mom, in turn, had brought them back from her vacation and given some to me. The blueberries had been carefully and cleanly picked, but still needed some sorting. One problem was that they were picked and stored in a container much too large, which caused a lot of squashed berries. I hate to see them go, but they make an awful mess unless used in a berry pie. I cleaned even the squashed ones and ate them with cream. No sense in wasting one since blueberries are my favorite berry.

I have a friend who often tells me about the inadequacies of my pantry. She has a point. Yesterday, when I gathered my ingredients, I had no flour, no sugar, and no eggs! The printed recipe that rests on the table is *To Die For Blueberry Muffins from All Recipes.com* I couldn't resist the title. "To Die For" sounds fantastic, doesn't it?!

Using a cookie scoop works perfectly for getting those muffins a uniform size and for less muss and fuss. I can be such a sloppy baker!

The finished product. They really must have been "to die for" since there were none left this morning!

P.S. I am still learning about formatting. Repeated edits in hopes of fixing it have failed so my apologies for those who, like me, find it completely unattractive. I'll keep trying to get it right.

Cross Creek

Right now it's early morning and I am blogging instead of folding the laundry. I don't plan to fold any laundry today either here at my own home or at my parents' home where I am caring for my grandmother. Nan is a good sleeper and loves to sleep in until nine every morning. This gives me the chance to run home for a couple of hours and do whatever needs doing...like blog writing.

We, Nan and I, spend much of our day reading. She is reading a Catherine Cookson novel and I am reading Cross Creek by Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings. Rawlings is perhaps more familiar as the author of The Yearling. Marjorie would have made a wonderful blogger. Cross Creek is the story of her life in Florida. Although not one bit politically correct, it is still rich and wonderful. It was, after all, written in a different time. Nevertheless, I'm loving it.

My book is a vintage volume purchased from Abe Books for a mere dollar. I love the heron embossed in silver on the cover.

Vintage books are lovely things!

One Chance

Isn't that a great title? It's Paul Pott's new cd title. I have listened to the selections from the cd repeatedly on *Imeem. I can't recommend that site enough lately. I have already purchased the cd from Amazon so I listen to that in the car and to Imeem when working at the computer. It's so soothing. For whatever reason, I don't seem able to cope with frantic or loud music right now. Mellow music like this is just what I enjoy most. You can find the selection in my profile, I believe. I hope that it works for you; if not, I hope that you will sign up at Imeem. It's free!