Friday - October 31, 2025

Happy Halloween, if you're into that sort of thing.  

I'm not.  

My first memory of Halloween happened when I was about 2 years old.  The family was preparing to go down the road to my aunt's house.  We did not have any candy for trick-or-treaters (probably couldn't afford it); most of the lights in the house were off.  Daddy had set me down on the couch until everyone else was ready to go.

There was a knock on the front door.  From the bedroom, Daddy hollered, "Come in."

What stepped through the door was a monster!  It was wearing a plastic mask, one of those cheap ones with the elastic string that goes around the back of the head.

I let out a blood-curdling scream.  

I remember Daddy snatching me off the couch.  Everything past that is a blank.

I do not have happy memories of Halloween.  ;)

* * * * * * * * 

Yesterday, the daughter-in-law came over to work on her t-shirt project.  She'd seen a how-to video and wanted to try it.  My plan was to mostly stay out of her way, but she'd never done much sewing and needed occasional help.  It took almost all day.  

Speaking of projects, I need to find a road-trip project.  We've got another long drive ahead of us next week, and I'd like to keep my hands busy while on the road.  But I don't know what it would be.  I'm not in the mood for needlework of any description.  Maybe I'll go peruse the hobby store.  

Dreading Winter - October 29, 2025

It's rainy, windy, and cold today.  

Oh, how I dread winter.  

* * * * * * * * 

Yesterday, I went to the second of four drawing classes I'm scheduled to take.  That morning, I woke up with a headache.  Before long, I started seeing watery "lights," which I recognized as the onset of a migraine.  It's been a long time since I'd had one of those.  I took some Tylenol and followed up with a couple of aspirin a couple of hours later.  They didn't really work.

The class started at 1 p.m.  My heart wasn't in it.  At 2:00, an hour before the class was to end, I packed up, came home, and stretched out on the couch with a blanket.  Ten minutes later, my daughter-in-law came in to work on a t-shirt she wanted to make.  My head was still pounding, and I wasn't much help.  She finally gave up and went home, planning to come back today.  

A month ago, I made a tincture for migraines, clematis virginiana soaked in pure grain alcohol.  Last night, I decided to try it - just a few drops.  It seemed to help.

I went to bed before 8 p.m., slept until 3:30 a.m.  Finally got up around 4, ate some toast, opened a book, and read a few minutes before falling back to sleep in my recliner.  

My eyeballs are sore today, and I still have a mild headache.  A few minutes ago, I tried a few more drops of the tincture.  It's supposed to be better at forestalling a migraine than at treating a full-on headache already in progress.  It's very SPICY - not sure whether the heat comes from the clematis or the PGA - but the burn only lasts a few seconds.

I don't have a plan for today.  Not in the mood to tackle a big project.  Maybe I'll just be quiet and read.

Dinner with The Grandson - October 24, 2025

I'd promised The Grandson that we'd have meatloaf and creamed potatoes for dinner.  He wanted green beans, too.  

I'd planned to go to the grocery store for fresh ground beef, but I didn't really want to go to the grocery store, so I went to the freezer.  The first package I picked up said, "Use or freeze" by some date in 2022.  If the meatloaf had been just for The Husband and me for dinner, I'd have used that 2022 package, but since it was for The Grandson, I dug around and found some from 2024.  Good enough.  I thawed two pounds of meat because Carl would be coming to dinner, too.

Mid-afternoon, I checked the potato situation.  I'd picked up a bag of russet potatoes last week.  They were green - like, lime green.  The internet frowned on eating green potatoes - they could give you a stomach ache - but I've eaten green potatoes before and did not die.  I peeled one; the green was just skin deep. I peeled and cubed enough for dinner and left them to soak until time to cook them.  Rinsed them again and boiled them.  They were fine.  I wasn't particularly thrilled with the texture, but I think that it was the TYPE of potato that made the difference.  I like red potatoes for creaming.  

My family likes green beans cooked down low in an iron skillet.  I opened two cans, since I'd be feeding two big boys.  About 5:00, The Grandson texted me that he'd be here around 6:30, and that Carl wasn't coming.

The Grandson arrived right on time, and dinner was ready.  We sat down at the kitchen table and had an enjoyable visit.  The Grandson had seconds, so I guess the food tasted okay.  And my stomach isn't rumbly today, so I guess the green potatoes weren't lethal.

I don't know what I'm going to do today.  It's cold, too cold to be comfortable on the porch, so I'll have to find something to do inside.  It's time for me to start moving my workstation indoors.  

Snake in the Grass - October 22, 2025

When Husband came home from work yesterday, he showed me a picture he'd taken on the way to our door.  Snake!  Red and black (mostly), curled up in amongst the monkey grass.  He said it was stretched out across the threshold when he approached the front door.  I hate knowing there's a snake on the loose.

I mean, I know in the back of my mind that this yard, surrounded by trees and ivy and fields and unruly flower beds, is prime real estate for a snake.  There could be one anywhere.  SEEING one is a different matter.  Makes it more personal.   

This morning, before The Husband opened the storm door on his way to work, he peeked out to make sure the snake hadn't come back on the porch, and then he eased the door open and looked up.  His looking up TOTALLY CREEPED ME OUT.   I would never have thought to look UP for the snake.  If a snake were to drop down on my head, I'd have a come-apart.

Thankfully, the snake was not on the porch, nor anywhere in sight.  This afternoon, I went out to plant a hydrangea in the edge of the yard, and I was r-e-a-l careful about where I stepped.

A few minutes ago, The Grandson texted me and asked if we had dinner plans tonight.  I told him that his grandfather is out of town, and I am having toast.  He asked if I would like to have dinner plans.  

Truth was, I didn't want to have dinner plans.  I really didn't want company, to be honest, even if it is my only grandson.  I have been on the go all day, and then I came home and dug a big hole for the hydrangea, and I am tired.  Nevertheless, this IS The Grandson, and I was a little worried that something was amiss.  

So I texted, "Well, I could.  What are you thinking?"  Meaning what restaurant.

He replied, "Anything that you are able and willing to make.  And can I bring my friend Carl?"

As I was reading the text, I was on the phone with The Husband, and I blurted out, "AW, HELL NAW!" and busted out laughing.  Told him about the texts, and how I was too tired to cook.  He said, "And, anyway, we don't have any groceries."  Truth.

I called The Grandson and begged off for tonight.  But tomorrow night, he's coming over for meat loaf, mashed potatoes, and green beans.  

And Carl's coming with him.

Welcome back, Sasquatch - October 21, 2025

Sasquatch is back.

He/She/It comes around about this time every year.  He/She/It makes a sound like two wooden drumsticks repeatedly knocked together.  The first time I heard it, I googled, "animal" and "sounds like two sticks being knocked together?"  Google said it could be Sasquatch.  Intriguing, but I figure it's something closer to a turkey.  In any case, whatever he/she/it is, his/her/its name is "Sasquatch."

* * * * * * * * 

I finally made it to the grocery store yesterday but came home with the same old boring stuff.  Meat is ridiculously expensive.  We're going to eat from what's already in our freezer.  Starting tomorrow, I won't be cooking dinner every night since The Husband will be out of town for the rest of the week.  It'll be toast or sandwiches for me until he comes home.

After the grocery store run, I picked the community garden peas.  There were so few green pods left on the vines that I did not see the point in trying to eke out another picking, so I pulled up the vines.  There was one tiny squash to pick, and the vines look like they're on their last leg.  I think I'm done with the community garden this year. 

This afternoon, I start a new art class, a 4-week drawing class.  We'll learn perspective and color theory.  I'm stoked, not so much for the learning as for the chance to socialize a little.  

Found it - October 20, 2025

On our back porch is a cabinet made from two salvaged bathroom vanity cabinets, nailed together and topped with ceramic tile-covered plywood.  When we put it out here, I envisioned it functioning as a buffet table for all the cookouts and parties we were going to have.  

It has never been used as a buffet table.  Instead, it functions as a catch-all.  

Currently on the cabinet is a big basket of gardening tools.  Yesterday afternoon, I happened to glance at the basket as I was walking past it, and something unusual caught my eye.  A thin, dark cord.  I stopped and turned around.  There was the Kindle charger I'd been hunting for two days. 

I have zero recollection of putting the cord in that basket, or even being anywhere near the basket with the cord in my hand.  I would have blamed it on The Husband - a practical joke, maybe - except that he was standing nearby when I found it, and he seemed as surprised as I was. 

Had to be Herman.

* * * * * * * * 

It's cold this morning.

I need to get up, get dressed, and get myself to the grocery store and the community garden, but I don't want to take off my warm jammies and fuzzy housecoat.  

 

Where did I put it? - October 19, 2025

I have turned the house upside down this morning, looking for my Kindle charger.  I seem to remember taking it to Gatlinburg but don't remember using it (or handling it) while we were there.  It was not in the most likely place, the schlepping bag of art supplies and other necessities.  Checked the truck, checked the suitcases, and everywhere else I could think to check.  Not anywhere.

Fortunately, there's an old back-up Kindle on the nightstand.  It is charging as we speak.  

Yesterday, The Husband's office held its annual barbeque get-together for the retirees of the factory.  About a dozen showed up, all of them in their 80s and older.  It is sweet to get them together once a year, since they worked together for 25+ years.  During the party, Granddaughter #2 called to ask if I could alter a romper for her.  I said I would, and asked when she needed it.  "Six-thirty."  "TONIGHT?"  "Yes, ma'am."  This shot down my plans for the afternoon.

We still need groceries, and I had planned to stop at the store on the way home and force The Husband to go in with me and find something that would tempt his appetite.  Nix that idea.  Straight home to work on the romper.  We tooted the horn as we passed by #2's house.  She came right over with the romper AND an elastic-waist skirt for #3 that needed to be made a tad tighter.  All the romper needed was to have the strap buttons moved up 3".  Easy jobs.

This morning, Fall has stuck it's foot in the door.  I've got my furry housecoat on over my clothes.  May stay that way all day.  

I went outside a few minutes ago to look in my car for the missing charger.  (There's no reason why it should be in there, but if I hadn't checked that's where it would've been.)  Granddaughters #3 and #4 were out in the yard, riding bikes and scooters in the driveway.  The three dogs were outside, as well.  I did not want to yell "hello" to them, knowing that the dogs would hear it and barrel across the road, so I just stepped to the end of our driveway and waved.  The dogs saw me and came running, as I feared they would.  I ran toward them, scooped up the little dustmop dog from the road, and led the big boys back into their yard.  

Granddaughter #4, wearing only a t-shirt and her underpants, ran to me for a hug.  She swore she wasn't cold, but her legs were like popsicles.  The last thing I said to her before I walked back home was, "Go inside and put on some pants and shoes!"  Little Rotten Baby.