Christmas 2020 - December 28, 2020

Christmas 2020 is over, thank goodness.  In retrospect, it really wasn't much worse or much better than past Christmases.

We put up the tree about a week before Christmas.  Here it is, in all its glory:

This was a failed craft experiment from last year.  I found it in my sewing room, buried under a stack of half-finished projects.  It seemed perfectly representative of the year that 2020 has been.  I pulled it out and plunked it down on a table in the living room with the comment, "Here's us a Christmas tree."  It suited The Husband not to have to go up to the attic for our usual tree. 

Because of the pandemic, we broke a couple of traditions this year.  The Husband and I did not host our annual pre-Christmas gathering that we typically do the weekend before Christmas.  It is generally never a big deal - just the kids, grandkids, and folks here on the hill.  If the weather had been warm enough for us to hang out on the back porch, we might have gone through with it, but it wasn't warm, and we did not think an indoor gathering was advisable.

Nanny also did not do her big Christmas morning breakfast for the family.  Same idea; not safe.  

So, Christmas morning, The Husband and I exchanged presents and then went to visit our children and grandchildren.  We wore our masks and didn't stay long at either of our sons' houses, but it was fine.  I'd done most of my shopping online, and a few presents still haven't made it here, but the important stuff came in time.

I got The Husband a new ukulele for Christmas.  This one is a tenor uke.  He's got quite a collection now.  He got me a new mandolin.  Now I can't blame my terrible music skills on a cheap mandolin.

The Husband also got me a Richard Simmons chia pet.  As soon as we came home from visiting the kids, I got Richard out and put the seeds on him.  The instructions said to soak the chia seeds in a little bit of water for 10 minutes, then apply them to the head.  Chia seeds, when wet, develop a gelatinous slime, and it's hard to get them to stick to the terra cotta.  The seeds are supposed to sit, undisturbed, on the head to dry for a couple of days.

On Day 3, per the instructions, I filled the head with water.  When I did, the seeds re-gelatinized, and Richard's chest hair slid off.

I tried to scoop it back where it belonged, but it wouldn't stay put.  

Nanny came to see us after we got home from seeing the kids, and she brought us a quilt.  Her mother had pieced the top 50 years ago, but never quilted it.  Nanny hand-quilted it last year.  I thought it was the sweetest gift, and especially timely, since the quilt on our bed is getting about as ragged as the above Christmas tree.  

The hit gift among the grown-up kids was home-made hot honey mustard.  The recipe came from my sister-in-law, who used to bring it to Thanksgiving and/or Christmas get-togethers.  It is awesome with cheese or meat.  The ingredients are mustard powder, sugar, vinegar, and eggs, and it is cooked to the consistency of custard.  I made four batches, enough to give each of our sons (including our son from another mother) two jars.  This stuff falls in the "nuclear" category; it's not a lingering, peppery hot, but it will take your breath away for a second, then it'll open your sinuses.  My daughter-in-law said I should be selling it, but I'm not comfortable canning it since it has eggs in it.  I called the county extension office and talked to the "home economist," and she wasn't comfortable with canning it, either.  It supposedly stays good in the refrigerator for several months, but I imagine it'll be gone long before then,

* * * * * * * * 

Today is the first day I've been home alone in weeks.  The Husband was working from home the week I was exposed to covid.  He decided to work from home the following week, too; in case in case I came down with the virus and exposed him, he didn't want to expose his office crew.  Last week was his scheduled work-from-home week, so he was here all week again.  I think he's happy to get out of the house, and I'm happy to be here by myself for a while.  I need to be working on some new embroidery designs.  I just wish it was warm enough to do the computer work on the porch.

 Back in the 70s, when I was in my early teens, my mother and I got into a house-plant craze.  For a time, our living room looked like a jungle.  At some point, we discovered African violets.  Folks said they were hard to grow, but we had more trouble keeping the philodendron alive.

Fast forward 20 years.  I got a basket of plants for Mother's Day.  It included a violet.  I don't recall what happened to the other things in the basket, but the violet sat in my kitchen windowsill for the next 20 years.  Twice a year, it bloomed profusely, despite the fact that it was seldom fed and was watered only when it appeared near death.  The stem grew up out of the dirt and crooked over the side of the pot so that the green part of the plant - the "whorl" - grew outside of the pot and was perpendicular to the windowsill.

A couple of years ago, we built the screened-in porch you read about in my messages.  This porch shaded the kitchen window where the violet was growing.  I decided to move the violet to the porch, where it would get better light.  It promptly died.

I've been on the lookout for another violet ever since.  Apparently, they've fallen out of favor, for I haven't seen any in a long time.

Earlier this year, my friend Elizabeth called me from the garden department of a chain store and said they had violets, and asked if I wanted her to buy one and mail it to me (she lives in another state).  I jokingly said, "Naw, just pinch me off a leaf or two and mail them to me."

A few days later, an envelope arrived in the mail.  Inside the envelope were four violet leaves, each one wrapped in a wet paper towel, with a bit of aluminum foil wrapped around the paper towel, and all four stuck in a plastic zip bag.  There wasn't much stem on the leaves, but I planted the four leaves in a small pot, and within two weeks, new leaves sprouted from the dirt around three of the leaves.  The fourth leaf shriveled up and died.

Each of the three "starter" leaves eventually grew two new crowns.  I cut the new crowns off the starter leaves and planted them in their own pots, and just for the heck of it, I re-planted the three starter leaves.  They each grew two MORE new crowns.  I now have six pots of two-crown violets on my living room windowsill.  And look what I found this week:

One of the babies is about to bloom!  I can't wait to see what color it is!

About a month ago, my sister ran across a violet in some garden department and bought it for me.  Last week, I accidentally broke a leaf while I was watering it.  I planted the leaf and am watching it closely for signs of new life.

It'll be hard to squeeze any more violet pots onto my windowsill, so if you need a violet, I know where you can get one.  ;)

Tulip Bulbs - December 20, 2020

A couple of weeks ago I mentioned that I'd been exposed to covid and had been tested, but the results had not come back when I wrote the post.  Well, they came back on Wednesday, and said I was negative.  Whew!

The day after I got the test results, I was exposed again, and this time I was seriously worried.  I'd spent an hour and a half in a car with the boss on Thursday, and she tested positive on Friday.  She called me on Saturday with the news.

I immediately self-quarantined in my house.  Shut myself up in a spare bedroom and stayed there all weekend long.  Wore a mask if I had to come out.  

The Husband decided that he'd better work from home last week in case I had caught the virus and exposed him.  He didn't want to spread it around his office.  Come Monday, with him working at home and The Boss home sick, I went to my office for a change of scenery since no one else was there.  Tuesday I went for another covid test.  Results came back on Wednesday:  negative.  

Of course, the experts say symptoms can appear up to two weeks after exposure (I think they've lowered that to 10 days now), so I continued to wear my mask and "social distance" at home.  So far, no symptoms on day 10. 

I firmly believe the masks The Boss and I wore saved me.  

* * * * * * * * * *

Knock on wood, I have felt better for the past few days than I've felt for two months.  The cough and snotty nose I've had since mid-October have finally abated a little.  Maybe it's the kefir/vitamin regimen I've been on, hoping to avoid covid.  "They" say kefir can help with allergies.  In any case, having been cooped up for so many days, I ventured out Friday morning in search of wrapping paper.  Walmart was crawling with people (at 8 a.m.!), and I would not go in.  Ended up at Tractor Supply, not hoping for wrapping paper, but hoping to see some little gift The Husband might like.  And guess what?  Tractor Supply had wrapping paper!  They also had spring bulbs.  I bought two packs of tulip bulbs, 18 bulbs per pack, and planted them along the walkway to the front of the house.  I do hope nothing eats them and they come up and do beautifully come spring!

After planting the bulbs, I set to work wrapping presents. 

Then I made four batches of hot honey mustard to tuck in with some gifts.  The fumes from this cooking may be what un-stopped my nose.  ;)

Yesterday, I spent the day embroidering sweatshirts.

It felt so good to be productive!

Missed- Again! - December 2020

 We could probably make a reality show out of trying to kill the armadillo that is digging up our yard.

I heard him again last night and, boy, he was going at it!  The sound was coming from the area around the shed, where there's a 4-foot high L-shaped lattice fence attached to the shed, built to hide stuff like buckets and lawnmowers and extra lawn chairs.  The fence has trapped a deep pile of leaves, and they were just a-rattling!

I went inside the house to get the spotlight.  The Husband was watching TV in his recliner.  When he saw me come through the living room, he said, "Armadillo?"  I said, "Yep."  He got up, put his shoes on, got the rifle, and followed me outside.

We stood on the porch and listened for a minute, then eased out the porch screen door, careful to not let it slam shut.  We could hear the armadillo thumping around in the stuff behind the fence.  Every time he would go to digging, we would move a little closer, hoping the noise the armadillo was making would cover the sound of the leaves crunching under our feet.  We crept right up to the fence.  

I flicked on the spotlight and shined it over the fence.  The Husband switched off the rifle safety and pointed it over the fence.  The spotlight stayed on about 2 seconds, then went dark.  I turned it on again, and it stayed on about about another 2 seconds, then went dark again.  It would not stay lit!  

Meanwhile, (presumably) the armadillo scampered under the shed where we think it lives.

We went back inside the house, defeated yet again.

Critter hunting - December 8, 2020

 Last night after supper, I went out to the back porch for a few minutes, even though it was a little nippy.  As I was standing out there in the dark, I heard something scratching around in the leaves and thought, “Armadillo!”  

I went inside and said to The Husband, “I think the armadillo is out here.”  He jumped up and got his rifle out of the gun safe.  We went out the front door to sneak around the side of the house, he with the rifle and I with the spotlight, like two Elmer Fudds.

We looked all around the yard, but there was no critter in sight.  

The Husband put up his gun and went back to what he was doing.  I went back out to the porch.  A few minutes later, I heard more scratching.  I convinced The Husband to get his gun again, and we went back outside to listen.  I heard more rustling and believed it was coming from down in the gully behind the house.  We crept over to the edge of the gully and I flicked on the spotlight.  

It was a possum.

Neither of us wanted to “off” the possum, so we went back inside.

End of story. ;)

For the record, I had a covid test yesterday.  It’ll be a couple of days before I get the results.  Meanwhile, I feel fine, don’t have any symptoms (other than this allergy-related snotty nose and cough that I’ve had since October).  

Exposed - December 4, 2020

 

Well, sh*t fire . . . . 

I was exposed to the coronavirus Wednesday at work.  I am irked.

My work involves travel to offices in five counties.  I had a bad feeling about Wednesday's trip before we (The Boss and I) ever hit the road, for I knew that one of the people in the office we would be visiting had been to a conference with many other people, and that most of those people probably weren't wearing masks.  For that reason, I was pretty careful to wear my mask and sanitize my hands at every opportunity.  As it turned out, it was a different person in the office who tested positive for the virus yesterday, and she had briefly been fairly close to me without wearing her mask.  

So, now I am a little worried, and trying to be careful at home, just in case I was infected.  As soon as I got the call (the day after exposure), I sanitized everything I touched Wednesday afternoon after work.  When The Husband came home from work, I kept my distance from him.  Looks like I'll be sleeping in the spare bedroom for a few days.  I will go for yet another virus test Monday (I think today is too soon to get tested).  

Last night, my son and his family dropped by.  I was in the back part of the house and heard The Granddaughters chattering.  I went to the living room door, stood well away from them to say hello, but told them, "No hugging!"  We blew kisses to one another when they left.  They are all in school but have not come down with the virus, as far as we know.  It would be such a shame for them to catch it from their grandmother!

And I worry about The Husband.  He has heart issues.  He doesn't need the virus.

But even though I'm a little worried, I am hopeful that the precautions I took protected me.  I have been taking vitamins and drinking my home-made kefir, which is supposed to be very good for the immune system.  (I'm slugging down a cup of kefir right now!)

From the back porch - November 29, 2020

 Yes, it's too cold to be blogging on the back porch, but I'm doing it, anyway.  It's not quite cold enough to freeze my coffee in the cup.

I just put a quiche in the oven.  It's made from left-over smoked turkey, green onions, and various cheeses that I found in the 'fridge that didn't have mold on them.  

Yesterday, we did the final harvest from the vegetable garden - three cabbages, three heads of broccoli, and one scrawny white carrot.  Night-time temperatures are supposed to drop below freezing this week, and we did not want to risk losing those beautiful vegetables.  We gave Nanny one of the cabbages and two of the small broccoli heads.  I'll probably fry one of the cabbages tonight for dinner, spiked with the rest of the smoked turkey.

The brussels sprouts weren't big enough to fool with, so I buried them in pine needles, hoping they'll survive the cold temperatures this week and produce sprouts big enough to eat.

I was so bored yesterday that I made a gnome out of an old gourd, some skewers, and an old sweater.  

His nose is a "footie" stuffed with polyester filling.  His feet are air-dry clay, covered with felt "boots."  His beard and hair are faux fur that I ordered for some project last year and never got around to doing.  I painted green and white stripes on his skewer legs to make them look like striped socks, but they don't show much under the fur around the bottom of his pants.  

He's not very stable, and fell over backwards in the green paint I was using for the stripes.  It left a thumb-print-sized spot on his butt.  Making the most out of a bad situation, I thumb-printed green polka-dots all over the sweater.  Don't tell anybody it was an accident.  ;)

 

The Husband texted the picture to The Grandchildren last night, with the comment, "We don't have an Elf on the Shelf; we have a Gnome in the Home."

He thinks he's a poet.  ;)

Leftovers - November 27, 2020

 Thanksgiving dinner went off without a hitch (assuming one of us didn't catch or spread covid).

The ancient turkey from the freezer was perfectly fine, and tasty.  Whew!  I saved the carcass and will boil the remaining meat off of it today for a turkey pot pie, or something.  

Nanny was anxious about her cornbread dressing, having not made any in several years.  It was fine, too!

My sister-in-law, a nurse, was working and couldn't be there, but we fixed her a to-go box for her supper.  Several months ago, I accidentally bought a package of styrofoam to-go boxes (thinking I was buying big, divided trays), and they have been the handiest things to have around.  I took the whole package to Nanny's, and we all filled them up with the left-overs.  

Just after we came home from Nanny's, my son texted me to ask if I could spare a jar of cucumber relish to go with the purple hull peas they were cooking for their dinner.  I dug a jar out of the pantry, and we took it to him.  

About 8 p.m., The Husband and I tackled some of the left-overs we'd brought home.  I'd been too full for dessert after dinner, but I'd brought home two slices of pecan pie and two slices of chocolate pie, and I had my slice of pecan pie and a left-over crescent roll for supper.

We'll be having our to-go Thanksgiving dinners for supper tonight.

Thanksgiving - November 26, 2020

 

It's a tad chilly on the porch this morning, but not windy, so I think I can hang out here for a while.

I got up early to put the turkey in the oven.  This is a smoked turkey that someone gave us a couple of years ago.  It's been in the freezer ever since, and I told The Husband that if we're ever going to eat it, now's the time.  I took it out to thaw last Sunday.  The package said that smoked turkeys are usually served cold, but we want it warmed.  My instinct was to put it in the oven at a low temperature and warm it for a long time.  So thirty minutes ago, I took it out of the fridge, cut off the packaging, wrapped it in foil, and stuck it in a 190 degree oven.  Then I got to thinking . . . maybe an extended low temp warming isn't safe.  I googled it, and sure enough, that's not how it's done, so I took the turkey out of the oven and put it back in the refrigerator.  I'll warm it at a higher temperature closer to time to eat it.

Thanksgiving Day is a little sad for me because my father died on Thanksgiving in 2008.  Thanksgiving has not been the same since.  This morning, after I'd put the turkey in the oven, I sat down to look at Facebook while I drank my first cup of coffee, and I saw a post from a niece who lives in Texas.  Ordinarily, she would have been here for Thanksgiving, and we would all be gathering at her father's house for a meal.  Her post showed a photograph of a pie crust in a pie pan, ready for pumpkin pie filling.  My mother's rolling pin was in the picture, and that made me sad, too.  

Our Thanksgiving dinner party has shrunk back down to 5.  One of the nephews and his girlfriend aren't coming because the girlfriend may have been exposed to covid at work.

I am so tired of this virus and all the worry it causes.  My grandchildren came bursting through my front door last night and ran straight to me for a hug, and my first thought was, "Don't get in their faces."  Sad.  Just sad.

But I am going to try to shake it off and enjoy this day.  Nanny's making dressing, pecan pie, and the broccoli salad (that I love) with broccoli from our garden.  I've made a strawberry pretzel salad and some candied sweet potatoes.  There'll be some good eating around here today.

From the back porch - November 25, 2020

 Well, tomorrow is Thanksgiving.  Our 3-person dinner has expanded to a 7-person dinner, with the addition of a brother-in-law, two grown nephews, and a girlfriend.  Last night, Nanny and I discussed game plans to keep everyone safe.  She and I are going to serve the food buffet-style.  She has two tables - one in the breakfast nook near the kitchen, and one in the dining room.  We should be able to spread out.  Nevertheless, The Husband and I may fix "to-go" plates and bring them back to our house to eat.  

I have to go to work for a while this morning to tie up some loose ends, then there'll be the inevitable trip to the grocery store for stuff I forgot.  I'll come straight home from the store and start cooking.  My assignments are a sweet potato casserole, a strawberry pretzel salad, and the turkey.  The turkey is a smoked turkey and just needs to be warmed.  I'll get up early tomorrow morning and stick him in a low oven.

Sweet potatoes always make me think of The Husband's paternal grandmother, Mama Jewell.  At her house one day, as she, Nanny, and I were sitting around a table talking about sweet potato pies, I commented that sweet potatoes pies are a chore because sweet potatoes are so hard to peel.  Nanny agreed.  Mama Jewell said, "Boil 'em, first."  It was like a light bulb went off in my head.  Apparently, Nanny had the same reaction, for she exclaimed, "Jewell, you could've told me that 40 years ago!"  

Busy Saturday - November 22, 2020

 

I intended to be a slacker yesterday, but The Husband woke up with ants in his pants, and we ended up working, inside the house and outside, all day long.

After breakfast, I brought my mandolin out to the back porch to practice.  I'd barely tuned it up when I saw The Husband coming out of the shed, carrying some boards.  He said he was about to re-assemble the bed we'd taken down in a spare bedroom when The Granddaughters moved in back in September.  I laid the mandolin aside and went to help him, for assembling that canopy is a two-person job.  Once we'd put the room back together, I came back out to the porch and picked up the mandolin again.

A few minutes later, The Husband came out and cranked up the 4-wheeler.  He'd seen that a tree had fallen in the soybean field behind the house and wanted to make sure it wouldn't be in the way of the combine.  While he was gone, I had a few minutes to practice, but he came back home fairly quickly, went back to the shed, and dragged out a wooden pallet that I've saved for some yet-to-be-determined project.  When I asked him what he was doing, he said he was trying to rig up something to drag behind the 4-wheeler to gather up the pine needles that have blanketed a long section of Nanny's driveway.  

Two big pine trees stand alongside Nanny's driveway, and they shed loads of needles and pinecones in the gravel driveway and in the yard.  It drives Nanny crazy, and every year she gets out there with a rake and black plastic lawn bags.  It takes her days to rake it all up.  Personally, I'd leave them and let Mother Nature deal with them, but Nanny is determined, and is no longer physically up to the task.  So I put the mandolin aside and went to help.

We have a leaf sweeper.  It is a non-motorized thing, intended to be pulled behind a lawnmower.  I suggested that we try the leaf sweeper instead of the pallet.  We attached it to the 4-wheeler, but it didn't work; the pine needles in the driveway have been compacted by traffic, and the leaf sweeper wouldn't pick them up, even if I loosened them with a rake.  We ended up raking the pine needles into piles and manually stuffing them into the hopper on the leaf sweeper.  During this exercise, The Husband said he believed it would be easier to rake them into the bucket on the tractor (any excuse to drive the tractor, you know).  So he cranked up the tractor and drove it down the driveway.  Nanny and I raked the needles into the bucket, and while The Husband carted them away, we raked up another pile and manually stuffed them into the leaf sweeper hopper.  Altogether, between the tractor and the leaf sweeper, we carted off about 10 loads of pine needles, which we dumped onto the low spot in the vegetable garden.

I don't know for sure that it wasn't a mistake to dump them on the garden.  I've read that it will make the soil too acidic, and I've also read that it won't affect the pH level by much.  In any case, they're there now, laying on top of the soil. 

The tractor still had the bush-hog attached to it, so The Husband mowed the garden, except for where the cabbages, broccoli, brussels sprouts, and turnip greens are growing.  I am excited to report that all of those things are growing well.  Nanny intends to use one of the broccoli heads to make a broccoli salad for Thanksgiving.  I don't know what we'll do with all that cabbage!  Give some of it away, I reckon.

Both Nanny and I had ordered groceries to be picked up, mine between 2 and 3, and Nanny's between 3 and 4.  We timed it so that we got to the grocery store at 3, and picked up both of our orders at the same time.  

The Husband was running the leaf blower in our yard when we got back from the grocery store.  I kind of hated that he did that, for now we have less of a chance of hearing the armadillo shuffling through the leaves at night.  (I am determined to "off" that sucker, for he is digging up our yard something fierce.)

I puttered around the yard a little bit, noticing that the hardy hibiscus plant that The Husband gave me for Mother's Day this year was loaded with seed pods.  Some of them were empty, so I know that there are seeds under the thick leaves in the flower bed.  I pinched off the remaining dry pods and emptied them into a bag, and will try to sprout them indoors come January.

It was starting to get dark by this time, and my stomach was growling, for we hadn't stopped for lunch.  I'd been craving a hamburger for two weeks, and our oldest granddaughter is now working as the hostess as a local hamburger joint, so we called in an order and went to get it.  I told The Husband, "Take some cash so that we can tip the hostess."  It was kind of heart-breaking, and also kind of cool, to see her working to make money for Christmas gifts.  She's a really cool kid.

Cinnamon Rolls - November 21, 2020

 

Thursday night, while watching a show on our local PBS channel, I saw a story about kolaches (basically, danishes or hand pies).  Yesterday, curious about the dough, I looked up recipes, and in the process I stumbled across recipes for cinnamon rolls.  I printed a kolache recipe and a cinnamon roll recipe.

Now, cinnamon rolls are not my favorite sweets, but The Husband loves them, so yesterday afternoon, while the last tote bag was in the embroidery machine, I stirred up a batch of dough.  The dough seemed far too wet and sticky, so I added another cup of flour, thinking I must have mis-counted on the way to FOUR cups.  It still seemed a little sticky, but I am no yeast dough expert, so I moved on with the process.  

To my surprise, the dough rose and doubled, though it took a little longer than the recipe said.  I floured the counter and rolled out the dough (which still seemed a little sticky), added the cinnamon/sugar/butter mixture, and attempted to roll the whole business into a nice, tight log.  Of course, the dough stuck to the counter.  Instead of a nice, tight log, I had a limp, gooey mess that stuck to the knife as I tried to slice it into individual rolls.  I could barely turn loose of the dough as I moved each "roll" to the baking pan. 

I thought, "What the heck, they'll taste good, regardless of how they look," and I set them aside to rise again.  When the rising time was up, I took a picture of them and sent them to a friend who said she'd perfected cinnamon rolls during the pandemic shut-down.  A few minutes later, my phone rang.  When I answered it, I heard, "Pitiful.  Just pitiful.  Send me another picture after you bake them."

Okay.

Yeah, they could've baked a couple minutes longer.

But they tasted good.  :)

From the back porch - November 20, 2020

 

If the weather were a couple of degrees cooler this morning, I couldn't sit out here without a sweater.

Today is Friday, the one day of the week when I don't really have to be at work at a specific time.  For that very reason, it is hard to get my rear end in gear on Fridays.  So I'm going to sit here and drink an extra cup of coffee and enjoy the quiet for a while.

Within my line of sight is a raised bed in which I have tried for several years to grow vegetables.  It doesn't get quite enough sun for things like tomato plants.  Right now, the bed holds a moderately successful patch of greens that I thought was lettuce.  One night last week, while craving a salad but having no lettuce in the refrigerator, I came out and cut some leaves from what I thought was lettuce.  I washed them and chopped them and tasted them, and they turned out to be turnip greens, not lettuce.  Here's something I didn't know:  raw turnip greens are SPICY.  I did not make a salad that night.

Coming up with something for dinner every . . . single . . . night . . . is such a chore.  The first thing I do when I come home from work every day is open the refrigerator and/or freezer to see if anything jumps out.  Yesterday, a package of frozen deer burger meat literally fell out of the freezer.  For over a week, it has fallen out every time I've opened the door.  I'm not all that crazy about deer meat, so I've been stuffing it back in, only to have it fall out the next time.  Yesterday, I decided to cook it to stop that nonsense.  All I knew to make with it was chili.  So I thawed it and sliced open the package and . . . yuck . . . game-y smell.  With other cuts of deer, I've soaked them in water until the smell diminishes, but I had never done that with ground deer.  I decided to give it a try, and it worked.  After rinsing it several times and draining it in a mesh strainer, it didn't smell so game-y.  I cooked it, slow and low,  with garlic, onions, and spices, then added tomatoes and beans.  It was good!  

Tonight, we shall have chili dogs with the left-overs.  :)

I made good progress yesterday with my tote-bag project.  Only three more bags to go.  I'll knock those out when I get home from work today.  Hopefully, I can get them in the mail to my friend next week, along with a couple of surprises.  I think she doesn't read this blog, so I'll tell you about one of the surprises.

My friend raises Golden Retrievers.  She regularly has four dogs living in her house.  A week or two ago, she was complaining that they were all blowing their coats at the same time, and she was having a hard time keeping her house free of dog hair.  She said she vacuums up enough fur to make a whole dog every day.  One time, when she and I were both interested in felting wool, she sent me a freezer bag full of dog hair.  I used it to make some felted dog-hair beads, which I then used to make a bracelet and some earrings, and I sent them to her, mostly as a joke.  Incredibly, she actually wears them to dog events.  Yesterday, I ordered her a drop-spindle and will tell her that she can use it to spin yarn out of all that dog hair.  ;)  She'll probably try it!  I just hope she doesn't turn around and mail me a skein of dog-hair yarn.  If she does, I'll knit a hat and mail it right back to her.

A Cancelled Thanksgiving - November 19, 2020

 

I hated to do it, but I texted my children this morning and told them that we're not doing Thanksgiving dinner at my house this year.  (One of the smartasses replied with a picture of Jeffrey Dahmer that said, "Nobody's going to tell me I how many of my family I can have for Thanksgiving this year.")  

It probably didn't come as much of a surprise to them, for we've NEVER done Thanksgiving dinner at my house (okay, maybe once).  For the past few years, my sons have spent Thanksgiving with their wives' families, and The Husband and I have done Thanksgiving with my siblings.  I and my siblings are wary of hosting or attending extended family gatherings this year because of covid.  The Husband and I may have a meal with Nanny, if she wants to eat with us.

To tell the truth, I'm not all that upset about it.  Holidays are hard on those who do the shopping, cooking, and cleaning.  I bet I'm not alone in feeling a little relief over not having to do it this year. 

We have a smoked turkey breast in the freezer.  I'll probably stir up a small pan of cornbread dressing, and  open a jar of good home-canned green beans from our garden.  Might even make a pecan pie.  

I'm dreading the decision about Christmas.  Ever since The Husband and I have been married, Nanny has hosted a big Christmas breakfast at her house, with all the kids and grandkids and anybody else that wants to join us.  Christmas breakfast at Nanny's is a big deal.  It will break Nanny's heart not to do it, but we are going to try our best to talk her out of it.  

On a happier note, it looks like my embroidery machine is finally fixed.  The old man from the repair shop called Monday and said it was ready.  The Husband picked it up for me Tuesday so that nobody would go to jail.  I set it up yesterday and tried it out, and it appeared to be working right.  Before bedtime, I whipped out three of the dozen bags left to do.  

But that particular repair shop won't be seeing my face anymore.

Last of the Tomatoes - November 17, 2020

 

This year's tomato crop is officially gone.  This weekend, The Husband picked all of the tomatoes that remained on the vines - a few pounds of green ones and a few almost-ripe ones.  I made 4 pints of green tomato pickle Sunday afternoon.  We ate the last two ripe ones with our Hamburger Helper for supper tonight.

The sewing machine repair shop called earlier today and said my machine was ready.  The Husband picked it up for me so I wouldn't have to throttle the old man that runs the place.  I haven't tried it, yet.  It better sew properly, is all I can say.

As I was writing this, I heard the armadillo rustling.  He can't sneak around now, with the leaves a foot deep on the yard.  I got up and stuck my head in the kitchen and asked The Husband if he wanted to shoot the armadillo.  He went and got the rifle, and I grabbed the spotlight.  Of course it wasn't charged up.  I had to run find a flashlight, and while I was gone, the armadillo went down in the gully, and our pitiful little flashlight wasn't enough to light him up.  The Husband has put the rifle back where it belongs, and now I hear the armadillo rustling again at the far edge of the yard.

Ima let him go for one more day.  My feet are cold, and I can see my breath between me and the laptop screen.  It's time to go in for the night.

Irked x 400 - November 15, 2020

 

Yesterday, I got so mad I thought my head was going to explode.

At the end of September, I took my Babylock Aventura sewing machine to the repair shop (at the store where I bought it about 4 years ago) because the bobbin thread sensor wasn't stopping the machine when the bobbin was empty.  This is a single-needle machine with an embroidery unit that detaches so that the machine can be used as a "regular" sewing machine.  I use it mostly for embroidery because I have an older machine that I can use for regular sewing.  I've had the machine serviced regularly, and it costs about $300.00 every time.  After the first service trip, I learned that I need to take the embroidery unit so that it can be cleaned and serviced, as well.

Last year, when I had this machine serviced, it made an unusual whining noise when I brought it home.  It sewed okay for a week, then it began to make a grinding noise and the motor would stall for a few seconds before it began to sew.  I took it back to the shop and told them that it had been making a strange whining noise ever since the servicing.  I went back to the car to get the embroidery unit, and when I came back in the store, I overhead the two repairmen mocking me:  "'It's making a funny noise,' like that's supposed to tell us anything."  I ignored the mocking.  We plugged up the machine, and when it powered up, it made the grinding noise and completely locked up.  Scared the repairmen.  They ended up installing a new motor, since the machine was still under warranty.

So, think back to September.  I was in the middle of embroidering 24 tote bags for a friend.  I would start the machine and walk away to do other things, and come back to find that the bobbin had run out of thread, and the machine had sewed and sewed but had not anchored the stitches.  Halfway through the project, I gave up and took the machine to the shop to have them fix the bobbin sensor.  The owner of the shop asked if I wanted the machine serviced, said that it would cost only a few dollars more.  He also said I didn't need to leave the embroidery unit if it was working okay, so I brought it back home.  A few days later, the shop called and said my machine was ready, and I went to get it.   

I did not immediately try the machine.  Our son and his family had just moved in with us, and the children were working on a science project in my sewing room.  A few days later, I came down with "the crud" and for three weeks did not feel up to sewing.  Once I was feeling better, I started back to work on the tote bag project.  When the first color finished sewing, I noticed that the bobbin thread was showing on top of the fabric (not supposed to happen).  The machine instruction manual indicated that there was a tension problem, either with the needle thread or the bobbin thread.  I adjusted both tensions, one at a time.  Didn't help. 

I called the repair shop, knowing that they might give me trouble since it had been a month since they'd serviced the machine.  I explained that I'd been sick and had just now tried the machine.  They said bring it to them and they'd look at it.  So I packed up the embroidery machine and the embroidery unit and took it back to the shop (which is 44 miles from my house).  I also took before/after samples of the stitching.  

When I arrived at the shop, they asked me if I was using "Finishing Touch" bobbin thread.  I said no, whereupon they began to blame the embroidery thread for the problem.  They said that Babylock recommends ONLY Finishing Touch thread, and that when they service machines, they set the tension for that specific thread.  I told them that I had been using another brand of thread for three years and had never had a problem with it.  They asked if the machine sewed properly for "regular" sewing.  I replied that I never used it for "regular" sewing - which was not *quite* true, since on rare occasions I do use it for the built-in decorative stitches that my other machine doesn't have.  They said they could set the tension for the bobbin that I use.  They then said that it could be the embroidery unit, since I'd not had it serviced; that would cost an additional $50.00.  I told them to go ahead.

They called Friday and said the  machine was ready.  I went to get it yesterday.  I brought it home and set it up, and before I put on the embroidery unit, I decided to do some decorative stitching on a receiving blanket that I was making for a baby shower happening that afternoon.  The stitching looked fine on top, but when I flipped it over, it was clear that the bobbin tension was wrong.  The bobbin tension was so tight that the bobbin would not spin when I pulled the thread.  I finished the receiving blanket on my other machine, went to the shower, then came home and loaded up the machine and the embroidery unit and took it back to the shop.

The owner of the shop went on the attack the minute I walked through the door.  It was the thread, he insisted, not faulty servicing.  He said if I would just use the recommended thread, the problem would be solved.  He could not explain why the same thread had worked fine for three years.  He about lost his mind when I told him to throw in a spool and I'd try it.  

We almost got into a shouting match.  He said they couldn't keep working on the machine for free.  I told him it wasn't "free," for it was costing me gas and 2 hours of driving time every time I had to bring the machine back.  I finally told him, "Call me when the machine is sewing right," and turned around and walked out.

The Husband will have to go pick up the machine when it's ready to keep me from going to jail.

Irked - November 6, 2020

 I am irked about several things this morning.

First, I am irked that I cannot get over this snotty nose.  

Second, I am irked that the embroidery machine (on which I spent $300 to have serviced a couple of weeks ago) is not sewing correctly.  A couple of days after I brought the machine home from the shop, I came down sick and have not felt like fooling with embroidering, so this is the first test of the machine.  I had to drive 40 miles to take it to the shop, 40 miles to pick it up, and now I'm going to have to do it all over again.

Third, and most importantly, I am irked about the way the president and his minions are behaving over the election.  He took to the air in the middle of the night after the election, when less than half the votes had been counted, and declared himself the winner.  Yesterday, one of his minions had the gall to shame Joe Biden for saying it looked like he (Biden) was going to win when the bulk of the votes had been counted and it appeared that Biden was in the lead.  Now, the president is claiming, without evidence, that the election officials are cheating and is filing lawsuits.  Two of the lawsuits have been dismissed, already, because he presented zero evidence of his cheating claims.  And his supporters are going nuts, believing everything he says.  Of course, this will not be the end.  There will be ceaseless appeals.  

Worse, there will be violence.  Already, a man has been arrested in Philadelphia for allegedly planning to wreak havoc with an automatic weapon in the vote-counting center.  

People have lost their minds.

From the back porch - Election Day, November 3, 2020

What a beautiful day it is.  Though I thought my back-porch-sittin' days were over for the year, it looks like there's one more.  Except for the potato tub glaring in the picture, isn't this a lovely view?

But I'm worried.

This is Election Day.  I fear that there will be all sorts of nonsense happening around the country, today and for days to come.  I fear that our election process has been meddled with in ways that we don't know.  

Our cable TV went out last night.  That might be a good thing, in a way, but that worries me, too.  We, as a nation, are too dependent on our electronic devices, and too trusting of the people who come into our homes through them.  

I need to stop thinking about these things today.

My older son has been sick with strep throat and now has covid.  He says that he cannot taste or smell, and that he is incredibly tired.  When I asked him if there was anything I could do for him, he asked for chicken noodle soup and meat loaf.  I stopped at the grocery store for ingredients on my way to work.  I hadn't been there an hour when The Boss called to report that she is feeling poorly and is not coming in, and she told me that I might as well go home, too (I haven't been feeling so great, myself, these past couple of weeks).  So I am at home.  Home-made chicken noodle soup is simmering on the stove.  I added a few red pepper flakes to the broth, hoping that if my son can't taste it, he can at least feel it.  ;)  When the ground beef thaws, I'll stir up the meat loaf.  I hope he's physically able to walk to the porch to get it, because I ain't going inside his house any time soon!

Butterbean crop - November 2, 2020

 

The butterbean crop was disappointing.  It yielded about two cups of shelled beans, which I gave to Nanny because I'd planted those beans for her.  If I'd planted a month earlier, or if the cold temperatures had held off for a couple of weeks longer, it would have been better.  There were a lot of pods on the vines that were not filled out.

I didn't harvest the butter peas.  Even fewer of those pods were filled out.  I decided to just leave them alone and see what happens.  After all, this is west Tennessee.  It might be 30 degrees today, and 70 degrees tomorrow.  If we could get a few more weeks of warm temperatures, maybe the pods will have time to fill out.

Butterbean pickin' - November 1, 2020

Last night, the weatherman was talking freezing temperatures for tonight, so I'm getting the butterbeans today.  They've been in the ground since the first week of August, so we're very close to the 90-day maturity that the seed package promised. 

Instead of picking the pods off the vines, I just cut the vines down and piled them in my wagon.  The garden is muddy, and I'm not over my cold, yet, and my nose is running like a wet-weather spring.  The vines are spread out in my driveway, drying off, where it'll be much easier to pick the beans off the vines.  I expect that there won't be many beans that are mature enough to shell.  

I didn't get the butter peas, yet, but I'll get them before the day is over.  

My younger son and his family found a house to rent until they can find one to buy, and they began moving this weekend.  They spent the night in their new place last night, and I suppose they've officially moved, except for scattered stuff still at my house, which they'll get as they need it.  I'm going to miss having them around.  

From the back porch - October 26, 2020

 Yesterday, I was as worthless as tits on a boar hog.  It rained off and on all day, so getting outside was no fun, and I didn't have any projects in progress to keep me occupied inside.  I'd finished (no kidding!) the little cross-stitch embroidery piece I'd been working on, so I scrounged around, looking for something else to do.

I made these hats a couple of weeks ago.

They need decorating, and the white one needs some additional felting (it's too fuzzy).  My intention was to decorate the tan one with felt flowers, but I couldn't find my needle-felting tools.  So I moved on to a partially-finished jewelry kit I found in the craft closet during last weekend's scavenger hunt.  Unfortunately, the instructions were missing from the kit.  They're around here, somewhere, but I was too lazy and too irked to hunt for them.  

Thus went the entire day:  come up with an idea, and nix it when I can't find the stuff to do it.

I did manage to do a couple of loads of laundry and change the bed sheets.  Yay me.

As dinner time approached, I ratted around in the refrigerator for something to cook.  In the meat drawer were two pounds of ground beef that I'd bought last weekend, and various packages of cheese.  The meat was a little gray, but smelled okay.  I decided to use one pound for a meat loaf (thinking ahead to tonight's dinner) and the other for enchiladas.  When I got ready to assemble the enchiladas, I discovered that almost all of the cheese in the refrigerator was furry.  I ended up using multiple slices of American cheese with the enchilada meat, and found a handful of non-furry grated cheddar to sprinkle on top.  The enchiladas were . . . meh.  We ate them, anyway.

For the past three weeks, I have been suffering with seasonal allergies that morphed into bronchitis.  After two rounds of antibiotics, I'm still coughing.  At night, I've been slamming down a capful of cold medicine, but when I lie down, the cough gets worse.  One night last week, The Husband suggested that I try a toddy instead of the decongestant.  I mixed up a shot of whiskey, honey, and lemon juice, and slept all night for the first time in two weeks.  I've looked forward to bed-time every night since.  ;)

 

Paper-Making 2 - October 25, 2020

Yesterday's paper-making experiment was partially successful.  Let's call it a "learning experience."

Here's a quick run-down of the process:  

1. Gather used paper, tear it into bits, and soak it in water until it gets mushy.

2. Put the mushy pulp in a blender with some water and whizz it to break up the lumps.  I'll call the resulting mixture a "slurry."

3.  Put the slurry into a mold, and press out most of the water.  

4.   Dump out the newly-formed slurry, and let it dry.  Ta-daaaaa . . . paper!

There are multiple ways to accomplish each step.   

The very first thing I did was a mistake; I cut up the cut-away stabilizer in my sewing room trash can, intending to incorporate it into my paper sheets, thinking it would strengthen the paper.  Mistake.  Dumb mistake.  Cut-away stabilizer is meant to stay intact when wet.  It would not dissolve in water.  It would not disintegrate in the blender.  Since I had cut it into tiny, tiny bits, picking those bits out of the slurry was out of the question.  But since I had a bucket of stabilizer/paper mix, I decided to go ahead with the whole process, knowing that the resulting paper would not turn out well.  I wanted to experiment with adding things like flower petals and leaves to the paper and thought I might as well do all of the experimenting at once.  

While the paper was soaking, I constructed a mold out of two old 5 x  7 picture frames.  I stapled window screen to the flat side of one frame, and hinged the other frame to the first frame with fabric straps, so that the contraption would open like a door.  This worked fine.  In one of the videos, the mold had a layer of hardware cloth under the window screen.  I did not see the point of that until I got to step 3 (above).  The window screen, by itself, tended to "give" as I pressed down on it.  A layer of hardware cloth (or even plastic needlepoint canvas) would support the window screen better.

Here's a picture of my experiments:

The sheet on the left is the first one I made.  It is a combination of stabilizer and regular paper.  You can see the white bits of stabilizer showing in the paper.  

The top right sheet has a leaf pressed into it.  I poured some slurry into the mold, added the leaf, and poured more slurry on top.  As you can see, there are bare spots.  The other side of the paper has random orange stains.

The lower right sheet was made from paper towels that I'd used to mop up water from the previous two attempts.  It has tiny rose petals pressed into it.  It is, by far, the best-looking of the three attempts.

All three sheets are still pretty wet nearly 24 hours later (it's been raining), but they are holding together.  I expect that none of them are actually usable, except maybe the one with rose petals, but I doubt it could be written on, as I did not put any sizing in the slurry.

I'm going to keep trying.  

Making Paper - October 24, 2020

 I am going to try making paper out of - well, paper.  :)

It all started with a small embroidery kit that I bought to keep my hands busy during long, boring work days.  The design is a canning jar with a few flowers in it.  The whole thing will finish about 4" x 5".  As I was working on it at home a few days ago, The Nugget asked, "What are you going to do with that when you finish it?"  I hadn't really thought about it, but as I continued to work on it, I thought that it would make a nice cover for a journal or a book of poems.

But I didn't want to just go out and buy a journal or a book and cover it.  I've been wanting to try making paper, anyway, so . . . . 

We have a lot of scrap paper around here.  The stabilizer that I use for machine embroidery is made of paper.  My sewing room trash can is full of it.  The Granddaughters draw and write on copy paper and leave it all over the place.  So this morning I gathered up all the stray paper and chopped it into bits.  Those bits are soaking in a tub of water right now.  

I'll need to make a screen of some kind and gather some other supplies.  Time to watch some how-to videos!

Garden Check - October 22, 2020

 

I went down to the garden this afternoon to see if the butterbeans were ready to pick.  According to my earlier posts, I planted them the first week of August, and they sprouted within just few days.  The seed package said 90 days to maturity.  We're getting close.  The pods are beginning to fatten, but they're not ready yet.  There's a big stomped-down trail across the rows where a neighbor's cows escaped their pasture and strolled through the bean rows.  And while I was bending over, feeling the pods, the plants commenced to shaking like there was an earthquake.  I couldn't see what was causing it - my first thought was SNAKE! - and nearly broke my neck trying to back away before a big old rabbit shot out of the garden and headed for the woods.  

The turnip greens are about ready to pick.  The cows tromped through them, too.

We're STILL picking squash.  Got a few tomatoes, too.  

The okra is about 8 feet tall, and still blooming.  I didn't even think about cutting it.

We have three very healthy-looking cabbages.  They're starting to form heads.  The brussels sprouts are coming along, too.  

Tooth Fairy - October 21, 2020

 Yesterday afternoon, when The Granddaughters arrived home from school, The Nugget ran up to me and said, "Grandmama, I lost a tooth today at school!"  

I said, "Show me!"  

She grinned real big, but the poor kid was missing so many teeth that I had to ask her to point to the space where the tooth had been.  

She asked, "Do you want to see my tooth?"  

Thank goodness that I said, "Yes," for if I had not, the Tooth Fairy might have wound up on The Nugget's bad list.

She dug around in her back-pack and came up with a tiny orange plastic treasure chest.  Inside it was a tiny white tooth.  (Do 1st Grade teachers keep a stock of tiny treasure chests for this purpose?)

Fast forward to 10 p.m..  The Nugget had been asleep for an hour by that time.  As I was on my way to bed, I spied the little orange treasure chest on the desk in my office.  I picked it up and shook it, and it rattled; the tooth was still in it.  Nugget had forgotten to put it under her pillow.  Both she and her older sister were asleep on the top bunk bed, with the older sister on the outside.  I had little hope of getting the treasure chest under Nugget's pillow without waking her. 

I went back to the living room and told The Husband about the problem.  Neither of us knew how much money the Tooth Fairy pays for teeth these days.  In any case, I was limited to cash on hand, a whopping $2.00.  I smoothed out the two bills, laid them on the desk, and set the orange treasure chest on top of them.

Fast forward to this morning.  When I came out of my bedroom, Nugget and her older sister were in my office, arguing.  

"Yes, you did," Nugget was insisting.

"NO, I DIDN'T," Lou-Lou said.

When she saw me, Lou-Lou said, "Grandmama, the Tooth Fairy left Nugget some money for her tooth, and she didn't even put it under her pillow!"

I said, "WOW!" and continued my trek toward the coffee pot.

Behind me, I heard Nugget say, "I know it was you.  The Tooth Fairy always takes the tooth."

For me, it was one of those forehead-slapping moments.  It had been a very long time since the Tooth Fairy had visited my house.  ;)

* * * * * * * * 

October 18, 2020 - Addendum

 

Remember the potatoes I planted in the 40-gallon tub?  I harvested them today.

Here's my crop:

From the back porch - October 18, 2020

 It's raining this morning.

I hope it drowns that blasted mole I've been trying to trap for 2 days.  

I found his trail Friday afternoon about 2:00.  It was at least 30 feet long.  I stomped it flat and set the trap - a viscous, scissor contraption.  Two hours later, the mole had re-dug the entire tunnel, somehow managing to avoid the trap.  I pulled up the trap, lubricated it, and re-positioned it in the trail.  Yesterday morning, it looked half-sprung, but when I pulled it up, the scissors were still closed, and there was no mole in it.  It appeared that the mole had dug around it.  I stomped the trail flat again and re-positioned the trap.  From where I sit now, I can see that I still haven't caught the mole.  

Yesterday was an exceptionally beautiful day, trap failures notwithstanding.  Mid-afternoon, we went to a "drive-by" birthday party for Uncle B from across the road.  It was his 90th birthday.  They held his party at his church.  I'm not sure how effective the "drive-by" part was for keeping him safe from covid, for he walked up to every car to visit with each guest.  Hopefully, the occupants of the car were wearing their masks, as we were.

After the drive-by party, The Husband and I drove down to the river (the Mississippi) and through the river bottom farmlands, cotton on one side of the road, soybeans and corn on the other.  It had been years since either of us had taken this drive.  The river was surprisingly low, with sandbars exposed.

Last night, after the kids and granddaughters came home from their excursion, we built a fire in the back yard and listened to the owls and coyotes while the granddaughters played hide-and-seek in the yard.  It was nice.  :)

Sunday dinner - Oct. 11, 2020

 

Cooking Sunday dinner today.  Cooking BIG:  baked ham, hamburger steaks in gravy (brown AND tomato), mashed potatoes, slaw, butterbeans, pineapple casserole, and peach cobbler.  I'm hoping that'll do it for a couple of days.  Most of it is done, already, or on auto-pilot. 

The butterbeans were dried Fordhook beans.  I cooked some for the first time a few months back and was not very impressed with them.  They tasted fine, but had big, tough skins that slipped off the beans during the soaking and the cooking.  If I'd cooked those beans long enough to get the skins tender, the insides of the beans would have been pure mush.  Today, I tried a new tactic:  as the bean skins floated to the top during cooking, I dipped them up into a cup, and when I had a cupful, I whizzed them (with some cooled cooking liquid) in the blender and poured them back into the pot.  Then I just cooked until the beans suited me.  Problem solved.

I was going to tell you about the big dinners I used to have every Sunday, before my children got wheels and while my parents were living, but I am distracted by a battle going on under one of the porch chairs.  This chair has two little spiders living under it.  (I battle spiders every day.)  I just watched one of the little spiders attempt to wrap up a stink bug that's probably 10 times the spider's weight.  I thought for a minute that the spider was actually going to win, despite the stink bug's struggles.  I saw it hurry down the web, do a few spider moves, then hurry back up the web.  The stink bug was cowering between in the space between two floor boards.  The spider came back down the web and approached the stink bug, then it (the spider) suddenly JUMPED BACK, as if the stink bug had blasted it with something caustic.  (Can stink bugs blast?)  The stink bug calmly disentangled itself, and motored away . . . straight toward the other spider's web.  I wonder if the stink bug is stupid or self-confident.

  

Armadillo APB - October 10, 2020

It's raining this morning, courtesy of whatever hurricane is in the Gulf this week (Delta, maybe?).  It was raining - okay, misting - when I came home from work yesterday, so I didn't get any gardening done.  Truth be told, I could've worked a little, but was too lazy.

Instead, I looked for the piano rug.  It wasn't in the top of the craft closet, as I expected.  I'm stumped.

After supper, The Husband and I came out to the porch to chill for a while.  Suddenly, he jumped up, grabbed the spotlight, and started shining it around the back yard.  He's heard something crunching through the fallen leaves.  "There he is!" he exclaimed.  It was a big armadillo, probably the one that has been digging up our yard for the past couple of weeks.  It was hunkered down between the porch and the 4-wheeler, which was parked less than 10 feet from the porch.  

I said, "Shoot it!"

He said he hated to shoot it, especially where it was (he didn't want to hit the 4-wheeler or shoot in the direction of the neighbors' houses).  

I said, "Then club it with something!"

He didn't think that was a good idea.  

As we stood there, deliberating, he armadillo went under the 4-wheeler.

The Husband went inside to get the .22.  

I should have held the spotlight on the armadillo, for it had disappeared by the time The Husband came back out with the rifle.  We went out to patrol the yard, looking for it, but couldn't find it.  He shined the spotlight around the yard several more times before we went inside for the night, but never saw it again.

As we were getting ready to go to bed, The Husband picked up his telephone and saw a text message from Cousin Jamie next door.  (She and The Husband have been playing a texting game for the past couple of months.  Every time one of them hears a gunshot, he/she will text the other, "Did you get it?")  She'd sent the text two hours earlier, while we were out hunting the critter:  "Just a heads up.  Saw a big armadillo.  It's been tearing up my yard.  If I see it again, it's toast."

Looks like that old possum-on-the-half-shell is on everybody's "most wanted list."  

Garden Check - October 9, 2020

 About 4 o'clock yesterday afternoon, I was feeling all out of sorts and didn't know what to do with myself.  I'd already decided that the kitchen was CLOSED for this night; we'd have to eat sandwiches, or rummage around in the refrigerator for left-overs.  I surfed the TV news channels for a few minutes, and that just made my restlessness worse.  So, even though I wasn't planning on cooking dinner, I went to the garden to see what vegetables I could pick.

Three squash.  That was all.  

There wasn't even any okra, except for a couple of big ones that I missed the last time I cut okra.

There were a few turning tomatoes, and some green ones.

Turnip greens are still too little to fool with.

Butterbeans are still flat as pancakes.

Cabbages are just beginning to make heads.  The broccoli and brussels sprouts appear to be a long way from making anything.

There was a good-sized patch of that old foxtail grass in one end of the garden, and it was about to go to seed.  I decided to pull it up, hoping to reduce the grass problem for next year.  I pulled up a wheel-barrow load of the stuff.  If it doesn't rain before I get home from work today, I'm going to run the tiller over that spot and plant more greens.

The purple hull pea vines needed to be pulled up, but by the time I got through pulling up the grass, I was out of the mood to tackle the job.

I laid the three squash on the bench beside Nanny's back door (she wasn't home) and walked back home with my empty bucket.  

We had frozen pizza for supper.

About 8:30, my son and his wife dropped in for a visit.  Their house-sitting job will end this weekend, and they and The Granddaughters will be coming back home.  School is out for fall break next week, and I've been trying to come up with some craft ideas to help them pass the time.  While I was looking for my knitting needle pouch last weekend, I found a rug-hook kit that I'd bought a couple of years ago.  The pattern looks like piano keys, and I thought the oldest granddaughter might enjoy making the rug, so I set the box out so that I would remember to give it to her.  When her parents got here last night, I showed them the kit.  Digging around in the box, I discovered that the mesh (the rug background) was missing from the box.  Evidently, I've already worked on it a little bit - yet another UFO (un-finished object) in my house.

Somewhere in my house.

I did not run across it last weekend when I tore the place up-side down, looking for the knitting needle pouch.  The only place it could be is the top shelf in the craft closet, the one place I did not tackle.  That top shelf is an avalanche waiting to happen.  I'll need reinforcements to help me pull down the heavy tubs.  No telling what I'll find in them.  I just hope the rest of the rug hook kit is there!

A Froggy Day - October 7, 2020

 When I came home from work today and sat down on the back porch to chill, I looked up to find a green tree frog chillin' on an elephant ear leaf.  

After dinner, I came back out to the porch to finish my chillin'.  My rear end had no sooner hit the chair than I realized that I'd forgotten to bring my water glass (and, yes, I was just drinking plain water).  As I stood up to go back in the house, my peripheral vision caught a movement on the cabinet behind my hair.  It 'bout scared the bejeeezus out of me.  Turned out, it was another tree frog, this time a gray speckled one.  It was hard to capture a picture of him; the light wasn't good, and he was leaping around.  (I finally blinded him with the spotlight we keep on the porch to look for armadillos, and he held still for a minute.)

By the time I remembered to go get my water, he appeared to be tucked in for the night.

From the back porch - October 6, 2020

 

How I am going to miss my morning back porch sittin' when the weather gets cooler.  Right now, the sun is peeking through a tiny gap in the trees, shining directly on my face.  The birds are tweeting, the crows are cawing, the woodpeckers are jack-hammering.  I am going to miss all this when cold weather drives me inside.

Last week, I got a Bedazzler in the mail.  I was going to wait to play with it until The Granddaughters get back home (they've been house-sitting with their parents for over a week), but Sunday afternoon, I couldn't stand it any longer, so I plugged it in and bedazzled some masks for the girls (and myself).  Each little jewel has to be heat-set for 10 to 15 seconds.  So, as I sat there counting - one thousand one, one thousand two - I fired up YouTube and watched random craft/art videos.  

Eventually, I came across a video entitled "Neurographic Drawing."  It sounded fun and interesting, so when I got tired of bedazzling masks, I pulled out a sketch pad and some colored pencils and tried the drawing technique.  It was fun, and also relaxing.  The drawing turned out kind of cool (though it resembled a tangled string of Christmas lights), but I wanted to try the technique with some watercolor brush pens that I bought months ago but haven't used.  I also wanted to try a calligraphic pen for the base drawing.  

I knew exactly where the watercolor brush pens were - they've been on a shelf in my home office since they arrived - but it's been a while since I've seen the calligraphic pens.  Thus began yet another turn-the-house-upside-down search.

In the process, I found the knitting needle pouch that I searched for ALL DAY Saturday.  It had fallen behind the watercolor pen box, which was stacked on top of a shoe box full of pencils, which was stacked on top of a box of paints.  

Of course, I had already ordered the knitting needles I needed on Sunday . . . . 

But I did find the calligraphic pens.  

 

Callery Pears - October 4, 2020

 

Over a decade ago, Nanny planted some nectarine pits in a big tub in which Pop-Pop was growing a tomato plant.  The pits sprouted, and she moved them to the yard, where they grew like weeds.  About three years ago, the trees started producing fruit, but the fruit was not nectarines.  It looked more like little brown apples. The skin on the fruit is a bit rough, like Asian pears.

This year, the trees are LOADED with these little brown apples.  When I went to the garden Friday afternoon, Nanny (who has been calling the fruit "crabapples") said she was going to make jelly out of them.  I came home and did some googling and concluded that this fruit is NOT crabapples.  I went back to her yard yesterday morning and snapped some pictures of the foliage and the fruit, intending to post them in a FB gardening group to see if anyone knew what kind of trees these are and if the fruit is edible.

As I passed by the shop on my way home, I heard some banging, and I poked my head inside to see what was going on.  Nanny was in there disassembling a weedeater on wheels - you know, the kind that operates like a lawnmower.  She bought this thing at a yard sale for $20 many years ago, but it played out last year, and she has been grieving over it ever since.  By the time I arrived, she'd removed the pull-crank and was trying to get the hood off.  The bolts wouldn't come loose.  I said, "Nanny, I think you're turning them the wrong way.  'Lefty-Lucy, righty-tighty.'"  She insisted that she was not.  

She was.

We got the hood off and she dusted the inside of the fly wheel with a cosmetic brush.  We sprayed lubricant under the fly wheel and cleaned some other toothy parts.  We dumped out the old oil and reassembled the thing, but we could not test it because she didn't have any new oil.  While she went to the store for oil and gas, I came home and uploaded my pictures to the gardening page.

The Husband was working in our yard by this time, cutting limbs off the trees along the road bank so that we can see how to get out of the driveway.  When he finished, I enlisted his help in weed-eating the phlox beds, which had grown into a thick, scary jungle.  We hauled four or five big wagon-loads of debris to the woods.  

After that, I went back to Nanny's to mow her yard.  I'd finished the yard and was mowing the edges of her long driveway when the lawnmower ran out of gas.  I was closer to my house than to hers, but I wasn't sure if we had any gas in our gas can, so I walked back to the shop to get the big gas can that we keep down there.  Nanny had just filled it, and I wasn't about to lug that heavy thing all the way down the driveway, so I put it on a wagon and pulled it to where the lawnmower was.  As luck would have it, the gas cap on the lawnmower was next to a barbed-wire fence, and I had to push the lawnmower to the center of the driveway to give me enough room to work without being shredded by the barbs.  The gas can was full to the rim, and heavy, and I spilled a good bit of gas onto the lawnmower deck before I finally got some in the tank.  I finished mowing the driveway and towed the wagon back to the shop, where Nanny was about to fill her weedeater with oil and gas.

About this time, my son showed up.  He helped us put the oil and gas in the weedeater and tried to crank it.  Nothing.  He said maybe it was the spark plug, but we didn't have one that would fit.

I finally got back home around 7 p.m., pooped and covered with dust. 

By this time, someone in the gardening group had identified Nanny's trees as "Callery Pears," which I'd never heard of.  The root of this tree is often used to graft other fruit trees, like peaches and nectarines and apples.  The pits that Nanny planted evidently sprouted the root stock instead of the graft.  I did a little more research and learned that the fruit is edible and makes good jelly, but that it needs a good frost to sweeten the fruit. 

I'm for sure going to try to make some jelly after we get a good frost.

Lost and found - October 3, 2020

 

Well, damn.

Now that fall is approaching, I'll be shifting gears from gardening to crafting.  Earlier in the week, when I went to pick up my sewing machine from the repair shop, I had to pass near a Hobby Lobby, and I could not prevent my car from turning in the parking lot.  I came out with canvases for the grandchildren to paint on, and some wool yarn for knitting hats. 

I did not not buy knitting needles because I already own more knitting needles than Carter has liver pills - at least one set in every size known to man.  Months ago, as I was re-organizing, I gathered them all up and put them in a pouch I had made specifically for knitting needles.  That pouch laid on a bookshelf in my office, in plain sight, for months.  Now, it is nowhere to be found.

With kids moving in and out of my house for the past year, and The Husband working from home every other week, I have tried my best to confine my craft stuff to my sewing room and to this craft closet:

This morning, I tore that closet apart.  Looked in every tub, every drawer, every schlepping bag.  Found a lot of stuff I'd forgotten about.  Threw away a lot of stuff that should've been thrown out years ago.  Demolished a lot of cobwebs.

No knitting needle pouch.

I'm about to mail order some for the hat pattern I want to make.  

Watch the pouch turn up the day after the new needles arrive.

We didn't kill the dogs - October 2, 2020

 

It looks like the dogs will survive the mouse bait fiasco.  They seem to be their normal, playful selves today.  

I went to work a little early this morning because I was in charge of a 10 a.m. Zoom conference between two judges and four lawyers, and I was a little nervous about it.  I'd set the thing up with Zoom a couple of days earlier and had emailed everyone the link, but we'd received emailed documents yesterday that needed to be forwarded to everyone who didn't get copied in the emails.  While I was in the middle of emailing the documents, twenty minutes before the conference was supposed to start, THE POWER WENT OUT IN OUR BUILDING.  No phones.  No internet.  No lights.  Jeeeeeeeeez.

I called the other judge's assistant and asked her to email everyone and tell them that the conference might not happen.  Fortunately, about five minutes until 10, the power came back on, and we were able to start the conference on time.

After work, I went to the garden to see what was there.  The purple hull peas have "done their do," as my mother used to say.  I will be pulling up the vines tomorrow.  I picked a few squash, a dozen tomatoes, and enough okra for two armies (not counting what had gotten too big and had to be thrown away).  

The cabbages look marvelous!

The broccoli and brussells sprouts?  Meh.

I brought the vegetables home and made okra & tomatoes.  The Husband and I are both in a funk about what to eat.  I have been taking antibiotics for a sinus infection, and my tummy doesn't appreciate it one bit.  We aren't particularly feeling okra & tomatoes tonight.  I cooked some rice, and cut up some shrimp in the okra & tomatoes.  I wonder if I could turn it into gumbo tomorrow?

From the back porch - October 1, 2020

 

What a lovely, pleasant day it is!  I am killing time on the back porch while the embroidery machine runs, and watching The Granddaughters' dogs make fools of themselves.

I guess you've heard me tell a lizard story or two, and so you already know that we have frequent visits from lizards on the back porch.  The Granddaughters' dogs have not encountered lizards very often in their lives, being house dogs and all, and lately they've had a good bit of entertainment sniffing and chasing them on/around the porch.

Just as I started this post, a lizard ran up the screen on the outside of the porch.  His shadow scurried across the floor.  Both dogs, which had been lazing peacefully in the sunny patches, suddenly jumped to their feet and pounced on the shadow.

And then they both looked around, ears bowed up, like WTF? Where did it go?  Bahahahaaaaaaaa!  :)

But I was going to tell you about my sewing room.

My embroidery machine has been in the shop.  It was sewing
fine, but it had stopped telling me when it was out of bobbin thread, and it would just sew and sew and sew before it realized the stitches weren't locking down.  It's been doing that for a good while, but I've just tried to remember to check the bobbin thread each time I change thread colors.  But I've got a big project to do, so I finally took it to the shop Saturday.  Picked it up Tuesday, and it's been sitting on a table, waiting to be plugged up, ever since.  Today, I decided to put my work area back together again.  

On the sewing table is a wooden thread rack that holds 32 spools of thread.  It sits on the table like a picture frame, with a leg that extends from the back to hold it upright.  It barely - barely - fits on the table.  I have several others just like it that are nailed securely to the wall instead of sitting up like picture frames, but when I first got this thread rack, the wall space where it needed to go had something else in it, and I didn't have the time or the desire to take the stuff down, so I just set it on the table "temporarily."  It's been there at least a year.  I have been sooooooo careful not to knock it over.  

Until today, when I was trying to plug the embroidery machine back in.  As I was leaning over the table, looking for the socket, I must've bumped the thread rack.    

My sewing room floor is hardwood; thread spools went everywhere.  

So today was the day that I took the other stuff off the wall (now I've got to figure out what to do with that mess) and screwed the thread rack in its place.  I found the 32 spools of thread and wound the un-spooled thread back onto the spools, and put all the spools back on the pegs.  Once that was done, I started the embroidery machine and came out to the porch to relax while the machine did its thing.

* * * * * * * *

[Two hours later]

As I was sitting here writing, I heard a crunching sound, and looked over to find both of the dogs gnawing on something.  I yelled and jumped up, and the dogs jumped back from whatever it was they were crunching on.  I picked it up and could not identify it.  It was gray and crumbly.  

Long story short (too late?), we think was a block of mouse poison - or, rather, half a block.  I could not tell which dog had eaten the other half, or if either of them had eaten any of it.  (There could've been only half a block when they found it, if a mouse found it before they did.)  We scooped them both up and headed for the vet clinic.

The vet squirted syringes of peroxide into their mouths to make them puke.  And they did puke.  The vet said he did not see anything but dog food in the puke.  He said he thought they'd be ok, but told us what symptoms to watch for over the next few days.

We've searched the back porch but have not found any more mouse bait.  

Ollie, the bigger dog, puked again - a foaming puddle that appeared to have some grass blades in it.  I guess he's still a big queasy.

Other than that, both dogs seem fine, so far.  

I am a wreck, though.

Cool Snap - September 30, 2020

 

Yesterday was such a beautiful, mild day, and the next few days are supposed to be mild, as well.  I am both loving this cool snap and dreading the onset of winter.

The odds are that it's going to frost on the butternut squash that I planted (late) before they have time to bear.

The butterbeans have tiny little pods on them.  Unless we have an early frost, I believe we might get a picking or two from them.

The turnip greens are up, thick as cat hair.

The tomatoes are still producing a little.

We picked a good bit of squash Saturday - enough for meals for Nanny and us for supper.  The okra needed cutting, but I put it off.  I was busy all weekend, then it rained Monday.  Maybe the garden will be dry enough today to do some work.

I watched the presidential debate last night.  It was a disgrace.

The Howler - September 28, 2020

 The Granddaughters and their parental units will be house-sitting for a great-aunt while she is on vacation this week.  The aunt has a big dog that mauls The Granddaughters' two little dogs, especially the tiny, worrisome sh*t-head, Dixon.  Guess who gets to babysit the little dogs this week.  Yep.

Dixon started his mournful howling the minute the family left my house.  When he finally settled down, we found him snoozing in my big schlepping bag, which I'd left on the floor behind a chair.  

At night, The Granddaughters usually kennel both dogs.  Come bedtime, I called them into the girls' room and told them to get in the kennel.  Neither of them complied.  Ollie, the bigger dog (who is barely the size of a dust mop), slouched down on his belly and looked up at me with his big, sad eyes.  I picked him up and stuffed him in the kennel, along with his yappy sidekick, turned off the light, and closed the bedroom door.

Five minutes later, the howling started.  We let him howl for a while, thinking he'd eventually stop.  We were wrong.

I said to The Husband, "I'm about ready to put their butts out on the back porch for the night."  He said he'd been thinking the same thing.  Instead, he got up and turned on the TV in the girls' room.  The girls claim they can't sleep without the TV on.  I guess the dogs feel the same way.  In any case, we didn't hear any more out of them for the rest of the night.