Fine Eating

We continued eating well throughout our trip to San Francisco and back by way of Grand Canyon.  It was a wonderful trip...until it wasn't, but more about that later.  Upon our arrival in Concord, auntie and cousin came to collect us for dinner.  We were tired of driving and cousin volunteered. He chauffeured us throughout our time in the Bay City!  What a treat!  They took us to the Elephant Bar for dinner on our first evening.  We have heard and read about this restaurant often, and without one nearby, never had an opportunity to try it.  All I can say is YUM! Later that night we stopped back at the Crowne Plaza (our hotel) for dessert and warm beverages. 

The following day we met other family members for some wonderful seafood at Pier 39's Fog Harbor Fish House.  Oh my the food was delish!  Since Ol' Abner's aunt had just celebrated her 87th birthday, we added the wonderful desserts worthy of such an accomplishment.  A well appointed seafood menu made me want to return daily until I could try several more entrees, but time would not allow and of course more yummy eateries were on the agenda. We ventured out to Saucelito the next day for another great meal at Spinnaker while enjoying the waterfront view.

Another day we traveled to Land's End Point to see the gorgeous beaches there and again enjoy a meal overlooking the rocks called Seal Rocks just outside our window. We enjoyed a casual lunch.  My mahi-mahi sandwich on ciabatta bread was scrumptious...Ol' Abner enjoyed a cheeseburger!  He gave it a thumbs up.  For some reason, he was tired of seafood!!!    We indulged in local mexican food that night.  Ol' Abner searched the menu looking for carne guisada, and finally settled on a dish called "carne su jugo".  The sauce was made with hatch green chiles, and he was not disapointed.  Now if we could just find that dish in Texas.                   

We sadly left the Bay area the following morning on our way to the Grand Canyon. 
We stopped in Needles that night at Juicy's River Cafe.  I had a scrumptious tri-tip sandwich with au-jus for dipping.  Ol' Abner claimed the spaghetti and meat-balls to be the best he had ever eaten...maybe he was just very hungry, but it did smell wonderful. We slept in Kingman that night and drove into Grand Canyon Village the next morning. Our hotel check in clerk gave a list of restaurants nearby.  Hungry, we headed for a place called "We Cook Pizza and Pasta".  I tried a chicken and green chile pizza...oh my!  It was most tasty.  Ol' Abner sampled their version of spaghetti and meatballs declaring it as good the previous night.  Little did we know it would be our last festive meal on this trip, but I'll fill you in on that another day.

And off we Go!

Early in this year Ol' Abner and I decided it was time to follow some of our dreams.  He bought the lift for his shop and agreed that we should make that long discussed trip to the San Francisco Area.  A favorite aunt is not getting any younger and he adores his cousins who are her sons.  That was February.  

I began researching affordable plane tickets and checked the calendar for his upcoming medical appointments. It appeared we had a window in May of about eleven days.  Plenty of time for a lovely visit. I found a package with only one plane change during the roundtrip travel.  The package included a full size rental car and nine nights in Auntie's hometown. When I proudly showed him my plan, he sighed and said he'd been thinking.  He wanted to drive...yes DRIVE! I immediately felt extremely tired. I did not book the flights, reverted to my maps and travel guides checking realistic daily progress.  As the date approached I was going into preparation mode.  Last minute bookings depended on weather and factors unknown.  

The night before we left, he brought in the disk from Lucy's GPS. We began the update process of the maps and it appeared it would take about five hours.  That was mid afternoon.  Fine, I would do other things and finish the processes and bookings on my laptop when it was finished. I finally went to bed a little  after midnight with it still running...not the first time a computer download has made a promise it couldn't keep.  Oh well, we left the next morning with the feeling that much was left undone, but it couldn't be helped.  We had a reservation in Deming NM that night.  It was time to hit the road!

Our first stop- The Blue Bonnet Cafe

  
We left home with empty stomachs knowing that one of our favorite eateries awaited just a few miles up the road.   A hearty breakfast had us well on the way determined to enjoy every minute of this trip.  A pleasant drive through hill country and onto the Interstate Highway system. We discussed plans to make short trips to some of these towns later this year as we passed through.  Next stop was at Dairy Queen for a nice rest break and a blizzard.
By the time we reached El Paso with rougly a little over an hour of driving, we were ready for dinner.  Our ice cream lunch was long gone.

He remembered eating here many years ago

Traffic was heavy and we had lots of advice from multiple devices. Lucy's GPS advised of a 45 min delay and Lilly Tom on the portable TOMTOM agreed. Waze and Google Maps showed alternative routes.  All four recommended we take a loop (that neither of us remembered being there), but two suggested we go on the NB side and the other two recommended we go on the SB side. 
Ok, we agreed it wasn't a perfect system.  A bit of common logic and we took the side  leading away from the Mexico border.  He was anxious to see if a steakhouse from his days of working in El Paso was still as great as he remembered.

As we completed the loop he was sure we were further out from the steakhouse location, so we traveled back into the city via freeway with multiple construction delays and rerouting.  After about five miles, he concluded it must be gone.  We sadly made a turn around, not an easy process in rush hour traffic.  Once back on the freeway, we decided Las Cruces might be a good dinner stop.  He glanced to the left of the freeway just in time spot the steakhouse right where he had left it 27 years before!  We turned around and enjoyed a most delicious steak with cole slaw, spicy pinto beans, hot bread and a Hatch green chile baked potato au-gratin. An hour and a half later we checked in for a good night's sleep feeling quite pleased with our culinary traveling skills!

It's not Even Green!

Ol' Abner is a stubborn soul.  He's been kicking tires and trying to convince me I need a new car for over a year.  I was very much in the mindset for a trade up about three years ago. When the ailing air conditioner was so easily repaired, that urge passed quickly.  He has ramped up the pressure in the last year or so.  Kicking tires on Sunday afternoon has occupied many days whether I was with him or not.  He has read all the reviews of the newest models and has shared the results of that research with me frequently.  Of course I should have seen where this was going.  We've played this silly game before.  He asks what kind of car I would like.  There was a time that a luxury SUV was high on my list, but that time has long passed.  Parking spaces are just too small these days and maneuvering the Texas Medical Center parking garages has made me think perhaps I should dredge up my ancient grudge at him for selling my VW Bug many years ago.  My current response to the car choice question lately has been "I would like another just like the one I have".  It's a futile question, he knows, since they stopped making my kind of car five years ago.  His research uncovered one of those bits of information about shared technology.  He had found a brand using the same features I have liked so much in my ten year old car.

Yesterday, I was grumbling about being almost out of gas.  He knows I hate pumping gas, but he currently cannot do it for me.  He had run me all over town on spontaneous shopping and eating adventures.  He suggested we drop in at an auto dealership that just happened to be on the service road we were traveling.  I was tired and really had other plans for my day, but I humored him. He had me on the test drive when the salesman mentioned that every car purchased leaves the lot with a full tank of gas!  At that point I didn't even care what color it was.  I now have a back up camera, built in navigation system...and all the new technology I don't yet know how to use. 

We had a phone call just as we finished agreeing to purchase and had to go to the hospital to re-admit Ol' Abner, so they filled the tank and we left.  I'll go back tomorrow and get a formal lesson on the use of all these new goodies.  When Dancing Girl returns from the West Coast, she'll probably have to finish fine tuning my expertise.  She did manage to get my bluetooth telephone capability activated last night.  A few months ago she bought a new car with all these enhancements and unlike me she's not technologically obtuse.

Spring Fever!

Dog and I are feeling restless again.  Our exercise has been limited for too many easy reasons lately.  She's developing a little paunch...and I won't even think about the sour note from the scale in the bathroom. It's not pretty!  Now that the spring/Easter cold snap is in the past, we must regain our commitment to a daily stroll flanked by alternate days in the gym.  Laziness has been so very easy to embrace for a couple of weeks now.

Trauma and roller coaster events in lives of friends and family keep my mind racing.  I know how those poor greyhounds feel as they chase the bunny on a pole around the track!  Where is the rescue team when we need them?

Oh well, I'm putting on my walking shoes and going outside to hear the birds singing up close and personal.  Belle's ready.

It's a Clear Day...I think

I have to wonder if my mind is regressing or progressing.  Things that bothered me terribly at one time no longer have much impact.  There was a time when derogatory comments from others would bring on serious introspection.  No more do I even give it a second thought. In fact, I'm not sure what comment brought that thought to the surface.  Clearly, it did not have the desired effect.

My housekeeping style has never been overly immaculate.  In earlier years, I panicked at the arrival of an unexpected visitor if my house was in flux.  My theory today, a welcome guest doesn't arrive to inspect my house, but to see the people within.  If that's not the case, that guest probably isn't  welcome regardless of the tidiness of the homeplace.  I clear the piles of projects in progress and stacks of unattended mail before a planned event, but frequent visitors don't even seem notice their presence.  Have I regressed into clutter?

My multi-tasking ability has stymied many.  I may appear to be procrastinating to some because I do not focus on a project until action is necessary.  Planning, making lists, discussing, accumulating data and repeating the process two or three times holds little satisfaction for me.  Long ago I discovered plans frequently change several times within the scope of dream to commitment to completion.  Seems like a waste of time that could be better spent with more urgent activity.  Colleagues have been known to bring in an army of helpers when I failed to display tangible evidence of commitment to the dream.  It took several years before I learned to tactfully explain that matters were well under control.  Even Ol' Abner has learned not to mention it, but move out of my way when the time comes for action.  I guess that could be called progress.

Today I am much more cognizant of how I feel about circumstances than what I think others may perceive.  I know what I like and what I want. No one can make it happen better than me!

Chilling Saga

Great plans do not always bear fruit.  On our first trip to the Texas hills after purchase of the new house we towed a trailer loaded with necessary items to subsist for days at a time while working through the process of Texas repatriation. The spare refrigerator from the basement (a 28 cubic foot behemoth in boring white), a queen size bed previously stored, spare stainless flatware, linens to make the bed and several wardrobe boxes of clothing.  Ol' Abner included items he considers necessary for handyman type efforts, but I won't go into that since it holds little interest for me UNLESS something really necessary should break.

Son and Daughter-In-Law were waiting at the new house when we arrived long after dark.  DIL had spent many evenings at the house preparing it for our arrival.  She had met a carpet cleaner there to have the carpets sanitized while she scrubbed and polished every surface.  The gloriously clean smell refreshed our senses despite the fatigue of a fourteen hour drive pulling a heavily loaded trailer.  Our negotiations during the home purchase had netted a large breakfast table that I coveted.  She had set the table with new place mats and coasters.  My Keurig coffeemaker was set up and ready to brew my morning coffee.

Son assisted with unloading the trailer and setting up the bed.  In less than an hour the refrigerator was plugged in and filled with items from the ice chest, our bed was made and the apprehensive canine had tested the back yard.  We gratefully settled in for a good night's sleep as the kids left for their home, knowing they had to arise early for work in a few short hours.

The morning brought the discovery that a piece of cheese had been placed in the freezer along with the kool packs for the ice chest.  We laughed that the fridge had clearly made the trip without mishap.  An hour later, everything in the interior of the appliance was lukewarm. Good thing he brought some tools. In minutes Ol' Abner had the back off the beast and all it's innards laying on the utility room floor.  He concluded hopefully that some oil might have leaked into the compressor, or from it, or something of that nature, and possibly just unplugging it and letting it all settle for a few hours would remedy the situation.  I recommended we just go purchase the primary refrigerator I planned to add in a few weeks anyway.  I don't think he heard me....

Eight or so hours later the old girl kicked in on command when plugged in.  When we left the following day for the Ozarks, she was still keeping her cool.  Our initial trip had been successful. The pickup, motorcycle and it's trailer were all registered in the Lone Star State, Ol' Abner had obtained his temporary driver's license and tax exemptions had been filed in Travis County for the newly purchased property. We had a place to sleep when in Texas, a table for eating and appliances in place for preparing and preserving our food.  Two chairs are in the living room, and two closets are filled with clothing.  Oh yes we were functional.  (or so we thought)

Our second trip included items Ol' Abner deemed necessary.  The riding lawn mower, two meat smokers, multiple boxes and totes from the storage facility and a couple of wardrobe boxes of clothing. I was lucky to get a quilt and some pillow cases included to enhance our sleeping comfort.  We ended our trip during daylight hours to view the freshly groomed landscape.  DIL had again performed her magic, this time with the help of a friend.  The yard was mowed and edged, shrubs trimmed so the new neighbors would not be ashamed.  Once inside, we unloaded the ice chest, and proceeded to unload the trailer.  The next morning, the food in the fridge was nice and warm...oh no!  More ice obtained from the convenience store, food moved to the ice chest, and the back of the fridge dismantled again.  Ol' Abners conclusion was that the fan motor need to be replaced.  We don't yet have internet in the new house, so he pulled out the trusty yellow pages and started his search.  A bit taken aback by the price of the part, he concluded he needed to get on line or find a nearby appliance repair business. Again I suggested to deaf ears that we go ahead with the purchase of that new one with the French doors and Freezer drawer.  A fruitless search for appliance repair stores in the vicinity, and an on-line search revealing even higher pricing left us looking for a small "cheap" refrigerator to keep in the utility room.  Cheap being a misnomer, we returned to the convenience store to replenish the ice supply for the ice chest.

The following day Ol' Abner and son were in the local home improvement store managed by Son's neighbor.  For some reason they wandered from their actual mission into the appliance department, when they heard about a tax free weekend coming for the Memorial Holiday weekend.  Now that eight and a quarter percent savings on top of Ol' Abner's 10%  veteran discount got his attention.  Friend further pointed out the "major appliance sale" adding an additional ten percent off.  NOW he's thinking we might need to go ahead with an appliance purchase.  He came to get me and we looked them over, chose a fridge and he agreed to go ahead with the new washer and dryer I planned for this house.

That evening when Son and DIL came out to our house with dinner in hand, we mentioned over dinner that only four more days would be endured hauling ice and storing food in a soggy ice chest.  A light went off in both their eyes.  The storage space they rent less than a mile from our house contains a small "drink fridge" that Son kept on his tool box in the garage at their old house.  Next morning, we went to the storage  area, retrieved the little chiller, wiped the dust off the outside and plugged it in on the counter.

It's perfect for keeping insulin, a bit of lunchmeat, a carton or two of yogurt and the freezer section actually makes a little tray of ice.

Don't you think it enhances the look of my kitchen.  I do plan to continue with some red accents in the kitchen.  The "chopper theme" wasn't quite what I had in mind, but the cool is very nice.  It's probably a good thing they didn't think of it til the purchase had been completed and delivery scheduled, or Ol' Abner might still be stalling for a "better deal".

Later today, I will have a new refrigerator, washer and dryer.  It's time to wash sheets, towels and a few clothes, even though the chill factor is not quite so urgent now.  I welcome the automatic ice maker.  Popping cubes out of the tray is soooo passe!

Not Just Any Hill Will Do!

Last week we made another journey to the Texas Hill Country to resume our search for a home in the Lone Star State.  Timing for wildflower views could not have been better.  As we left our home on the Ozark "hill", I stressed about leaving with the dogwoods in full bloom.  Since we had to stop in the Arkansas capitol for a visit with one of Ol' Abner's doctors, it was dark thirty when we crossed into Texas.  Awakening the following morning and exiting the hotel parking lot brought a a breathless gasp, the kind that makes Ol' Abner think he needs to swerve or slam on his brakes. Sorry about that, but I was overwhelmed by the beauty of the bluebonnets draping the side of the freeway.  After a prolonged drought, blooming wildflowers are a welcome sight in Texas.  Traveling down the interstate highway revealed roadside vistas of colorful bluebonnets, buttercups, Indian paintbrush, Indian blanket and bits of lovely yellow flowers of unknown name.  It was a joyful ride for me.

Our realtor was waiting to assist us in our quest for a place to live in this hill country.  If you haven't heard the recent history, let me update you quickly.  Two home offers accepted, and two contracts revoked when additional information was disclosed.  Our plan had been to be settled into our "second" home by this time.  I am a believer that a higher power intercedes at times when we are on the path not proper for us...and always pray for guidance when making major decisions.  Several homes in three different communities were slated for tours.  We wrote another offer, it was accepted, inspection completed, returned to the Ozarks in the space of five days.  I won't talk too much about this house...but it does have a beautiful view from the hilltop.

Returning to the Ozarks, we were delighted that the blooms we left behind were still evident in the landscape.  The oaks had finished dropping all the little brown squiggles that are so offensive and our home again seems ever so private.  Dogwoods still display perky white flowers beneath the oaks and the redbuds have delicate buds among the leaves beginning to mingle with them.  Oh yes!  This is a lovely hill, but we may have found another equally satisfying.

Metamorphosis

A phone call from daughter and middle grandchild in the midst of irrational exuberance resulted in a short trip down memory lane last week.  They were in a store contemplating the purchase of pre-cut 5" squares of cloth.  Daughter called to asked how many squares they would need to make a quilt.  Just like that, with no reference to said quilt size or choice of pattern, the question was asked.  Of course I inquired whether the intent was to complete a pillowtop, lap quilt, table runner, place mat, or small wall hanging.  NO, NOT a dinky little thing like that, (they set me straight quickly) but a full size quilt worthy of gracing their respective beds.  Notice I use the "bed" word in the plural.  The plan called for each to make a quilt for her very own bed.  Furthermore, this ambitious exercise would be accomplished totally by hand.  A vague mental calculation of the cost of one square times several hundred required to construct just one quilt and I tactfully suggested they might want to cut their own squares.  That led to types of cutters best suited with realization that I owned multiples of the things they would need to begin.  

I offered to prepare a small care package with some starter supplies for them and trotted down to the basement to gather extra cutters, mats, patterns and instruction books.  Of course I couldn't resist sharing a few choice pieces of scrap fabrics.  As I sorted through my "glorious collection" of fabrics (as Ol' Abner calls my "stinkin' stash"), memories surfaced of projects completed years earlier.  I couldn't resist including the remaining five or six yards of a fabric older than my marriage.  It is an olive green with bright orange tropical design from which I made a full length halter top culotte, oh so many decades ago.  It was one of those purchases made when the price was so right that all the remaining fabric on the bolt was bought for a pittance.  That's one swatch of cloth we won't have to move again.  Now I can just wonder what it might become!

This may take awhile!

A trip to the cell-phone store earlier this week was eventful. Our first stop resulted in Ol' Abner storming out with me explaining that he was old school management and had no appreciation for some of the new technology requirements. Hmm. Back in the car he complained that employees of his beloved corporation were now lazy and incompetent. Hmm. I was disappointed that the new version of my smartphone was not in my hand. His request to have our accounts combined in order to take advantage of his retiree discount had been met with the bad news that one of us would need to change our phone numbers. NOT going to happen...It was a stand-off or maybe a walk out after the young man told us it was beyond his capabilities. I sulked, he ranted.

The next morning he drove to another location, the one where we usually succeed after failing at the first. We are slow learners. He told me just to get the upgraded version and he was OK with paying the full price. The company had awakened to the fact that I am no longer an employee about a year ago and my discount just evaporated. We were greeted without having to sign in and wait, taken to a workstation to assess our needs. As helpful young man reviewed my plan and made a couple of suggestions, Ol' Abner commented that it was criminal that our accounts couldn't be combined without changing phone numbers. Hmmmmmmmm. Knowledgeable, truly helpful young man asked a couple more questions, looked at both plans, and offered to solve the problem. The solution involved numerous extra keystrokes on his part, but in the end Ol' Abner was further convinced of the incompetence of the staff at the previous location.

I now have the latest greatest version of my smartphone, and knowledgeable-truly-helpful young man recommended I try a new tactic to match all my devices and recover my ability to synchronize my music player with my new computer. It worked like a charm. Now Ol' Abner needs to write one of those letters for which he is known. Some blatant discrepancies in quality of service from one location to another really should be pointed out to the mother company!

Slippery Slopes

Winter in Dogpatch can be treacherous and heart-warming. On really cold days the neighborhood looks devoid of human population. Let the sun show it's bright face and walkers are strolling the streets. A little moisture can create icy streets and walkways. That's enough to keep me inside. The klutz gene evolves quickly with just a bit of the slippery underfoot. Dry leaves on a path become more like roller skates when wet and cold. I dare not brag that this season hasn't YET resulted in a spill for me, it's only a matter of time. Wouldn't it be nice if a preventive vaccine could be developed to stave off accidental slippage of aging bodies. As much as I complain when expected to have an annual flu shot, a shot to keep me upright with movement would be gladly welcomed.

I do take reasonable precautions. When approaching a flight of stairs, the handrail is always used. No more do I race up or down stairs with an armload of anything. As I waited for Ol' Abner to have a diagnostic test yesterday, I strolled around the perimeter of the medical facilities. It was chilly, but luckily dry. Inside the hospital, a walkway to the adjoining medical school is accessed by several flights of stairs. On the second day of long hours in the car seat, a bit of total body movement was a necessity. Approaching the wide stairs with some measure of trepidation (all things going up must come down???), I easily walked up the stairs and emerged to traverse the skywalk. The return trip was perilous in my view. As fellow travelers just bounced down the center of the wide flight, I waited for availability of a handrail on the right side to balance my descent.

It's morning on the mountain now. Whatever the weather holds in store, I will have my outdoor time today. Baked goods abound in the neighborhood, and indulgence is a foregone conclusion.

Maybe I Should Just Pass on the Cheesecake

A few weeks ago a friend showed me an "app" on her smartphone that would track progress and map out walking paths. Looked pretty cool so I immediately downloaded it. It also allows an option to add friends to compare notes and challenge workouts. Sounded wonderful and I tried it out as soon as I was ready for a walk. Not being technologically astute, as previously lamented on these pages, the first use of the program was totally unsatisfying. About every third step a voice from my pocket would yell "auto pause", then seconds later "auto resume". After about a minute and a half of that, being a slow learner, I finally just turned it off. Returning home I looked into the settings function and discovered the ability to turn off the "auto pause" function, and happily enjoyed the use of my application on the very next walk. Not only does it map my walking path, but give data that includes distance walked, elevation changes, speed walked and OH YES, calories burned. Such a comfort to know that the 500 calorie piece of cheesecake indulgence can be offset by walking four miles uphill...well maybe NOT so comforting. Perhaps I should have only eaten half the cheesecake. Either way, a bit of personal control and accountability seems like a good thing.

I have told many of my friends about the application and several have now added it to their smart phones. As I mentioned earlier, friends can share workout information with me and I with them...I think. So far I have accepted several friends into my fitness community, but I cannot see any of their progress. I wonder if they can see mine. Often I find myself at a loss where technology is concerned. The interaction of others figuring out methods of using the technology seems to be required with most things these days. Dogpatch is sorely absent of such interest, at least among my acquaintances. Maybe I need to make another trip to the Lone Star state where I was first introduced to this new wonder, or maybe I will eventually figure it out on my own. Sometimes I'm pretty stubborn that way.

Family Heirlooms

I just glanced at my friends list on Facebook and noticed the section of "family" is huge, and I don't even have all my first cousins listed there. My mother would be so proud. She took such pride in family connections...at times I cannot help but wonder about the wisdom of some of that pride. We do not choose the blood connections. I am one of 19 grandchildren on the maternal line and my mother was one of 19 grandchildren on her paternal connection. In addition I enjoy the relationship of a number of "step-cousins" as my mother's generation resulted in many blended families. I'm not sure anyone else on my friends list shows so many relatives in the "family" section. Not all with familial connection to me have been pulled into that list on my page and I wonder if most people just choose not to use that feature.

Many times I have lamented the birth of Facebook after my mother's death. Her phone bill and postage expense could have greatly been reduced. She stayed in touch with old friends from school and never allowed anyone in her family to loose touch. We lost her in 2000. She had just started using e-mail, and was most distressed if we didn't immediately reply to one of her missives. Many times I would receive a phone call asking why I had not responded to her e-mail, sent nearly an hour before. Did I mention that she hated answering machines too? An hour away from home might result in an overheard comment on my answering machine "they've got that *!*&#*! machine on again", only to see three e-mails; one of substance and two follow-ups.

She was far ahead of her time. Social networking, instant messaging and daily posts on blogger would have opened all new vistas for her...actually she expected that before the technology was even available.

Acorns to Oaks

Acorns are dropping everywhere in these hills. Some are huge and some are small. Ol' Abner tells me they are from two different oak species. Some are golden and others are a deep rich brown color, but they all have the signature straw colored cap. The deer and squirrels are hungrily munching and the dog occasionally crunches one up as she stops to sniff around the yard. Thumping on the bedroom roof followed by the sound of something tumbling down, then silence, frightened me the first few times I was awakened from my slumber. I thought something was running on the roof, or somone was throwing things up with the sole purpose of disturbing me. Nature has a way of disturbing even the calmest of moments.

Yesterday I talked with Mountain Girl. She is dealing with some of the same disturbances. Widowed and falling hard for Ol' Taxidermist, she has struggled to come to terms with her plan for the future. Two houses, each shared with a previous spouse, don't really fit her plan although he is pleasantly content to remain in the house where he and first wife raised three children. Each little upgrade makes her feel more like this might become her home, but the doubts persist. Her house, a beautiful home up on the mountain with scenic views and lovely isolation, is on the market. She is moving on from her past life. Her nature is to gather those acorns and make good use of them. She loves building things. They poured a new driveway last week and painted the new garage door. Still she seems to know that sound of acorns crunching on the driveway. No matter how many are eaten or crushed, some will sprout in the spring.

Cheesy

Back in the sixties roquefort dressing was ever so popular at fine restaurants. My father loved it but it was usually very expensive. The rich stuff's availability faded with the arrival of dressings made from buttermilk with a packet of seasoning and a little mayo. Blue Cheese dressing has been the closest relative available to enhance our green leafies for the last couple of decades, should one tire of the buttermilk fare. Roquefort is a cheese from a specific group of caves in France. While it is a "blue" cheese, not all blue cheese is roquefort. Ol' Abner has always turned his head in disgust when anything made with blue cheese was offered.

Much to my surprise, he delighted in a wedge of lettuce slathered in "roquefort dressing" at one of our favorite restaurants last week. When ordering the appetizer, he neglected to specify a dressing on the chilled lettuce wedge, but suggested to me that they probably had some special house dressing like "french" or something for it. When it arrived on a chilled plate with the chunky white topping, he cut a big bite off and exclaimed that it was extrordinarily good. The waitress shared the "secret" that it was not made with real "roquefort" but with the milder gorgonzola cheese.

His tastebuds craved another of the salads this week, but the chosen restaurant is just over an hour's drive and reserved for special occasions or times when a trip takes us that way. Internet research yielded several recipes for "roquefort dressing". That was the easy part. Still convinced that he dislikes "blue cheese", we began the search for gorgonzola cheese. The fourth grocery store carried one size package of the crumbly stuff, just a little less than the amount called for in the recipe. We hurried home to mix up the dressing and allow it time to chill before dinner.

Tonight's menu:
Grilled skewers of shrimp
Roasted corn on the cob
Chilled wedges of lettuce with roquefort dressing and diced tomato garnish

How things do come back around! My father would have loved that meal. (oh yeah, I think Ol' Abner secretly does like blue cheese.......)

Holiday What?

Ol' Abner has decreed that the Christmas decorations must be cleaned out soon. In the last couple of years, only one of the four Christmas trees has been erected, using only about a fifth of the tree ornaments encased in plastic totes. Various holiday decor to celebrate the season of cheer, has been left in the basement unused for several years. In the hubbub of the holiday, I usually go down and pull out a few of the containers, remove some of the treasures and lug them upstairs. Many of those "treasures" have never seen the upper level of this house. With multiple moves, we acquired several trees of varying sizes as we migrated from big house to tiny house and back to average size house. Of course all the scratched glass balls can be pitched out, the kitchy gag gifts received in holiday party exchanges should have met that fate when they arrived, and other decorations have not worn well with time. Ok, mentally the task is almost done, uh, maybe not. Those handmade dough ornaments and cardboard frames with photos inserted by tiny hands cannot go. They haven't made the cut for the themed tree in several years, yet I cling to the memories of young hands and faces clutching these little productions. Oh dear, it is only August and I have the urge to go downstairs to reassure myself that the treasures are safe.

Home Improvement

We closed in part of the screened porch to convert to a dining room last fall. A successful conversion in that the problem of congestion while entering through the kitchen door or the staircase from the downstairs entrances was solved. Other issues are still being handled gradually...until yesterday. The unpainted siding purchased to match the current has been allowed to age throughout the winter. It had to be caulked and trimmed, both projects that required a tall ladder or scaffold from our 2-story back side. Ol Abner took advantage of the good weather and completed the prep work during two beautiful days earlier this week. Then the painting could begin. I'm talking about two short walls meeting at a corner with one 3.0 window on the one side and two 6.0 windows on the other. Frugal man that I married was reusing plastic dropcloths as window covers to avoid overspray. Small tears and holes in the plastic were easily covered with the painters tape. When the windows were taped for painting the image of a digital TV screen with large blurred areas and only a smattering of blue pixels arranged in a random pattern of clusters. I was so proud. Progress was in sight. My two tone house was about to match again. I expected him to pull out the roller and start painting, but gadgets purchased must be used. He has one of those airless paint sprayers (in fact I think he has successfully painted the rest of this house and another with it) and planned to make quick work of the small area to be painted. The gadget didn't co-operate. Paint drooled all over the ladder, dripped on his jeans, shoes and elbows and generally went anywhere unintended. As Belle and I walked around the neighborhood his expletives (though unintelligible) could be heard between bangs and engine flutters from the air compressor. Understanding friends and neighbors wisely refrained from offering to come help him. He was just finishing as we returned from our stroll and we complemented the new look. (not his, the house) The squirrels and birds were all in hiding and I took a cue from them when he grunted and told me the airless paint sprayer had malfunctioned (paraphrased). This morning after a shower and hand scrubbing of body parts, most of the paint has faded from his body, two pair of jeans will sport green embellishments forever and he's stiff and sore all over. He told me last night that he will have to invest in more exterior paint because that siding "really soaked it up". I wonder if he will try using a roller and brush this time.

How Things Work

A surge of energy this morning hoping to make everything shiny and clean just uncovered new issues. After moving furniture out from the wall and getting every last bit of dog hair out of the crevices, we discovered the lamp between our chairs no longer produced a light. Logical solutions like changing the bulb and plugging it back in had no effect. After ruling out a blown circuit or a worn out plug, a trip to the local big box or home improvement store was required. Belle the Swell, the chocolate labrador retriever was sorely disappointed as we left just before her usual walk or ride time. She works very hard to keep us on a schedule. She eats at 5AM and 5PM, walks Ol' Abner whether he needs it or not at least twice daily, and campaigns for a ride within the city limits of our tiny town on the lake. Leaving the confines of "Dogpatch" causes howling and wailing along with loud sighs and fidgeting from the back seat. We left her standing crestfallen at the door. She accepted her treat and settled to wait. ("Stay" in her language) She will just have to understand that reading the newspaper and tv guide are higher on the urgency scale at this moment. Returning home with miscellaneous parts for lamp repair, we were met with such good cheer and delight that a stroll around the circle seemed like the natural thing to do. However, now that all the new parts have been added to the ailing lamp, it still won't produce the proper glow for reading. It might have been cheaper just to replace it. Meanwhile, Belle is already campaigning for her afternoon ride. Gadgets may not work as expected, but one Labrador Retriever consistently guides us through our day. She will be ready to eat when we return whether the lamp lights or not.

Just as I Feared

After setting up my first post and signing out, I wrote the post for this morning last night. When I previewed it a couple of typos and misspellings "glared" at me, but I couldn't find a way to correct them. I somehow posted anyway, and lost all ability to edit. I understand my youngest granddaughter had no problem blogging so I WILL master this. Just a little later. As Mammy used to say "Aging ain't for sissies".