View From A Farmhouse Window Too

January is catching up - painting - art - and cooking

2012-01-14T23:49:00.000-05:00

Hey there folks! January finally started acting like January and we have been snowed upon and frozen solid in the last couple of days. No matter, it is Winter in Ohio.

One of the things that I like to do on snowy, cold days is to catch up on my painting.
Not really what I had in mind either. Still it was work that needed to be done, and with 2-1/2 days of hitting it hard, I sanded, primed and painted this old gal. Turned out ok. The pannels and the seat are not back on in the after photo. Once she is done done (the Fork Lift needs some minor mechanical work too) I will post photos of her restored to her former glory.

As a side note, I had a few hours here and there (mostly while paint was drying and rather than watch that process) I skedaddled up to the studio and worked on a couple of my sculptures.

I call this Garden Art "Bird's Nest". Mostly, because that is what it is. Modeled after a real Robin's nest it would make a dandy addition to your garden. Click on one of the photos to go to my web store. Bird's nest will be available for Spring and will sell for $20.00, plus shipping - drop me an email if you want to get on the reserve list for this new sculpture. mary@mwilsonsculpture.com

Oh! And The Fab posted a recipe on the blog - truly it is worth trying. Link below.

Celebrate Your Inner Fabiola!: Fantastic Fabiola's Orient(al) Pork - A Fast "Slow Food" Dish with a Taste of The Orient

Working in a Winter Wonderland ...

2012-01-03T10:37:00.002-05:00

Some folk will tell you that in the winter, farm life for the womenfolk is all inside work, knitting and making quilts, and gazing out the window at winter wonderlands. Who are they fooling? That description is of a fantasy country life that appears only in the stories of real estate agents who are trying to sell "country living" to city folk, (and houses on wet ground to boot), and on the pages of country living magazines. Made up fluff, like Hallmark holidays, we love the thought, we buy the stuff, but it is no more real than my figment of a friend Fantastic Fabiola.

Winter on the farm means equipment maintenance, a lot of that must be done where the equipment is parked, which would be OUTSIDE. That is what I did yesterday and will again today, so I had my alter ego Fantastic Fabiola post an informational on dressing in layers for work out in the cold. <-- that link will take you to it. Now I have to put down my knitting and go to work.

First Snow of the Winter

2012-01-02T09:52:00.000-05:00

Today is the first real snow of the year ... and the winter, here. The ground is not yet frozen, so the January thaw, won't be. This year.

No matter the weather, there is work to do outside today, so layers are called for. Layers and warm thoughts. Warm thoughts work, wool works better.

The Fab posted today too. She talks about butter while getting around to recommending a way to make perfect fudge.

Requiem for a Passing Hour

2011-12-27T17:30:00.000-05:00

"We have treated time like confetti, tossing great handfuls of it into the air and letting it fall unwatched to the ground as if we had been given and endless supply", I said to a friend last night.

Lest I be guilty of treating every hour of every day as casually, this evening I am honoring a darkening hour.
Descending from the heavens, drops of water splash onto the surface of my pond leaving ringlets of tiny waves as they cease to be individuals and become part of something greater. The only evidence of each raindrop's existance is soon erased by the arrival of the next. Comforting is the knoweldge that raindrops past become life sustaining waters of a pond until they rise as vapor back to the clouds to start over as raindrops.

eRequiem æternam dona eis, Domine, et lux perpetua luceat eis.

The sun has set and the last light of the day is waning, I watch. Penance for all the hours passed unnoticed. What wonders have I missed tossing time into the great whirlwind of busy or idle distraction? This hour I will remember.

Kyrie eleison; Christe eleison; Kyrie eleison

This hour is passsing, the day's muted colors have bled to variants of grey. Soon this time too will be gone. I canot retrieve previously unmarked hours so I raise a thought to the darkening heavens that the unattended hours of my life not have been in vain as their loss reminds me that even a rainy hour has much to be marked.

Requiem æternam dona eis, Domine; In memoria æterna erit iustus ab auditione mala non timebit.

Lux æterna luceat eis, Domine, cum sanctis tuis in æternum, quia pius es. Requiem æternam dona eis, Domine; et lux perpetua luceat eis.

Thinking of you tonight, Mom and Dad

A Time Traveler Arrived in my Home Today ...

2011-12-07T17:57:00.001-05:00

Vintage Arpege

A time traveler arrived at my home today. A vintage bottle of Arpege. Arpege from before the reformulation that took it from a difficult complex masterpiece to yet another insipid floral.

I found it on eBay. Yes, I know. Someone's grandmother's old left over perfume. Liquid Gold, if you can wear it. I said if. Arpege either works with your body chemistry, or it does not. Difficult. Either you have a strong enough personality to wear this perfume, or it wears you. Complicated. The original Arpege glides through several stages as the scent develops. Aldehydes and citrus become Rose and Lilly of the Valley, the Rose lingers, then, ... finally, the glorious Sandalwood and Musk (e n t i r e l y missing from the reformulation to my nose) begin to radiate through the Rose. Masterpiece.

My mother wore this perfume for special occasions, it is one of my most distinct memories of her. Arpege was my every day, all occasion perfume starting in my early twenties through the reformulation. It wasn't just a perfume that didn't smell like every third girl at the mall, it was my Achilles Shield in the world.

To me this perfume is the far off sound of rolling thunder, the glowing embers after a fire, the last moments of twilight before sunset. Not for everyone, not made anymore, the world is a lesser place because of it. A time traveler arrived at my home today and transported me back decades. I believe that I will stay there.

Controversy over the Proposed Hancock-Seneca Wind Energy Center ...

2011-12-04T20:49:00.001-05:00

Controversy over the Proposed Hancock-Seneca Wind Energy Center ... is, what is that phrase? Oh. A tiny tempest in a very big teapot. A whirlwind in a wash tub. So far anyway.

As I stated in my last post on the subject, And when the wind blows ... I am smack in the middle of the proposed wind farm. I do not have a lease for a wind turbine, nor will I, due to the proximity of turbines on neighboring farms. I am fine with the project. We need to start somewhere in developing alternate energy sources.

My plan is to comment on the entire scope of the project, as I will be able to see a great deal of it directly from my windows. As I said, I am in favor, but I intend to present an objective report from the view of an affected but financially disinterested viewpoint.

The links below will take you to three articles on the project, all seem informative and fair. The comments are interesting. Mostly they are negative, and strangely familiar to the negative comments that appear for ANY project from which the complainers don't benefit financially. Destruction of the environment. Dead wildlife. Sick headaches caused by (fill in the blank project).

Review Times - September 21, 2011

http://www.reviewtimes.com/Issues/2011/Sep/21/ar_news_092111_story3.asp?d=092111_story3,2011,Sep,21&c=n

Advertiser Tribune October 5, 2011

http://www.advertiser-tribune.com/page/content.detail/id/540842.html

The Courier October 5, 2011

http://www.thecourier.com/Issues/2011/Oct/05/ar_news_100511_story3.asp?d=100511_story3%2C2011%2COct%2C05&c=n

warmest regards

Mary

View From A Farmhouse Window

Big Batch Chicago Style Cheesecake Recipe (48 servings)

2011-11-23T08:28:00.001-05:00

Quick Note Folks:

Yes, absolutely you have time to make this before Thanksgiving, if you do it today. Cheesecake tastes better if it sits in the fridge for a day. Well, it does. I made this recipe again yesterday, while I was making chili. Seriously, mixing this together takes about 15 minutes, the baking not quite an hour. Cool, wrap, into the fridge.

Now I did something different this time with the crust. Saved a bunch of time. I bought a package of Pillsbury ready made pie crust (the package that has 2 rolled single crusts for a 9 inch pie). I used that for the bottom crust. Line the bottom of 2 of the spring-form pans, trim the excess, piece together the bottom of the third. Do not pre-bake the crust, just pour the cake batter in on top and bake as directed for the cake. Worked dandy.

If you don't need 3 cheese cakes, divide the ingredients by 3.

It Is All About The Cheesecake!

Note before you start -- this recipe makes 3 nine inch round cheesecakes. (48 servings)

Cheesecake freezes beautifully.

CrustPreheat oven to 325 degrees
In medium sized bowl combine:
3 Cups all purpose flour
1/2 Cup sugar
1/2 Teaspoon baking powder
1/4 Teaspoon grated lemon peel (from real fresh lemons not the dried stuff in the jar)

Mix well, then add
1 Cup softened butter (real butter, I use salted butter, if you prefer sweet butter, that works fine too. I have no idea what fake butter or shortening will do to this recipe and I don't want to know, if you try either, please do not tell me.)

Mix again until all ingredients are combined. You should be able to easily form a pliable ball from the dough with your hands.

Pliable like pie crust or play dough, not sticky.

If the dough seems stiff or wont form a ball - add water one tablespoon at a time until you can form a pliable ball.

Divide the dough into three pieces. Smash the dough into the bottom only of three nine inch spring form or straight sided cake layer pan. You can get all neat about it and roll the dough out and cut a nice circle then lay that in the bottom of the pan, but you were just smooshing the dough around with your hands to form a ball then divide it in three so you decide if you want to get out a rolling pin.

Bake the crust in your preheated (you did preheat -- right?) oven for 10 minutes. You don't want the crust to brown, just set, it will finish browning when you bake the cheesecake.

CheesecakeRemove your pans from the oven, set aside to cool. Turn the oven temperature up to 350 degrees.

In a very large bowl combine
9 eight ounce packages of softened cream cheese. (single cake = 3 packages)
3 cups sugar (single cake = 1 cup)
1/3 cup all purpose flour (Single cake = use 2 tablespoons flour)
1/2 tablespoon grated lemon peel (Single cake = 1/2 teaspoon)
1/2 tablespoon vanilla (single cake = 1/2 teaspoon)

Mix -Mix - Mix -- mix until well blended

then add
7 eggs (I use extra large eggs -- but cheesecake is pretty forgiving so if you use large or jumbo it should not make a huge difference. If you use small eggs, you are on your own.) (single cake = 2 eggs)

3/4 cup 1/2 and 1/2 (single cake 1/4 cup)

Mix until well combined. Pour cheesecake mixture into your prepared pans.

Bake at 350 degrees for around 50 minutes. Cheesecake is done when only the middle 2 inches of the cake jiggle when you move the pan slightly. Take the cakes out of the oven to cool. The middle will finish setting while the cake cools.

After the cake has cooled run a spatula around the outside of the cake to loosen it from the side of the pan. Do not remove the side of the spring form pan at this point. Cover cake with plastic wrap and put it in the refrigerator to chill at least four hours before serving. If you are going to freeze the cake, skip the refrigerator and put the plastic wrapped cake right into the freezer.

Raspberry Sauce
2 cups frozen whole raspberries
1 cup sugar
Place the raspberries and the sugar into a heavy saucepan. Heat over low heat until the berries are thawed and stirring combines the berries and the sugar into a liquid. Increase heat to medium. Cook, stirring frequently until the mixture reaches the "jell" stage on a candy thermometer.
Chill sauce and serve over slices of cheesecake.

One nine inch cake should be cut into at least 16 slices.

I create original garden sculpture - please visit my web store!!

I walk in Wild Dog Wood when my soul needs rest

2011-09-28T22:08:00.000-04:00

I walk in Wild Dog Wood when my soul needs rest.

I listen to the wind dancing with the leaves and I look into the green until the day's events are washed away. That process helps me to see things that I have walked by before, but never took the time to notice. Today my eyes happened upon some of the fall mushrooms that appear in late September, linger a few weeks then disappear for another year. Looking at some beautiful absolutely white mushrooms, thinking only that they would make for a lovely photo, I did not realize how close I was standing to deadly danger. The winged white mushrooms pictured below are appropriately named Destroying Angel. They are deadly poisonous.

Destroying Angel Mushroom

The glowing orange beauties below I have looked at many times over the years, marveled at their bright pumpkin color then I walked on. This year I poked around the internet and discovered something that I never suspected.

Jack-O-Lantern Mushrooms, if you happen to come upon one in the pitch black dark, glow from underneath. I didn't know that when I took the photograph this evening. I read about it after. Then, of course, I waited 'till dark, walked back through the woods, turned off my flashlight, and waited. Waited until my eyes adjusted to the dark, and then, slowly, a very faint greenish blue glow started to appear from underneath (the gills) of these mushrooms. It turns out to be true. Jack-O-Lantern mushrooms are faintly bio-luminescent, underneath. Of note, jack-o-lantern mushrooms are also mildly poisonous, not at all safe to eat not safe for children to handle, despite how very interesting they are.

So tonight, my View From A Farmhouse Window includes deadly poisonous beauty and glowing gills.

http://draft.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=8323605761505426721#editor/target=post;postID=1144743580896688735

I had an idea for a blog ...

2011-09-26T21:24:00.000-04:00

I had an idea for a blog. One about life on a farm, in the mid-west from the viewpoint of a city girl moved out to the country. That blog would include the best photos that I could take, slices of life, and sometimes recipes. That was the idea, anyway. That it turned out to be much, much more is a function of how lonely and difficult life out in the middle of farm no-where can be. Truth is farm life for women can be too many hours alone or in the too cold or too hot, all doin' what needs doin' until you drop with no time or energy left over for dreaming. Silly useless activity anyway, dreaming. But.

View From A Farmhouse Window started with Kites and Dogs and almost Spring Air. I wrote a memorial to my Father and a wooden boat on a river. Mourned a loss. Had a Mad Hatter Day. One entry was devoted to Diesel Fuel and Dance Cards. Then, of course, the railroad. I told an An Easter Story. I talked about hunters (and I have no doubt that they are still talking about me all these years later). Then a surprise substitution of trailer brake work for girly time followed by And Then The Cat Fell Into the Bathtub. I wrote about walks in Wild Dog Woods and how a good dog can make you believe in forever, and then I wrote about the day that I lost my beloved Golden (I re-read it again just now and I am crying again). I poured my heart into View From A Farmhouse Window, because all too often out here, a gal just has to do it or break down.

As the years spun out View From A Farmhouse Window became where I went to remember, to dream, to talk to the fine people that stopped by. I made some wonderful friends first on AOL, then here, then here and on View From A Farmhouse Window mirrored and more on my own site. The photos from AOL didn't translate here, I didn't take the time to go back and re link them, but that doesn't mean that my heart wasn't in each and every one of those posts. I lived for the time that I spent here.

Why on earth am I going on like this? Before I started View From A Farmhouse Window in February of 2004, I did a search on the name to ensure that I wasn't stepping on anyone's toes. It was a great name for a Blog about farm life from the perspective of a city girl transplanted to the country. I had it all to myself. Did for more than half a decade. If I wanted to look up an old post all I had to do was search on the title.

Just yesterday, to my absolute horror, I discovered that about a year ago someone had elbowed her way in, plopped her insensitive behind down in the middle of my world, put her feet up and made herself right at home. No, I don't OWN the title View From A Farmhouse Window, but I do own http://viewfromafarmhousewindow.blogspot.com/ don't click it you are here already.

Perhaps it was just an "accident" that she decided upon a blog about life on a farm from the viewpoint of a city girl moved to the country with photos and slices of life and sometimes recipes. Perhaps it was "coincidence" that she chose http://view-from-a-farmhouse-window.blogspot.com/ see the dashes inbetween? and that she titled her blog "View From A Farmhouse Window" complete freaking coincidence. E-x-a-c-t-l-y t-h-e s-a-m-e b-l-o-g, E-x-a-c-t-l-y T-h-e S-a-m-e N-a-m-e.

I know that I am not fooling anyone, I have no doubt that she did a search, found view taken, then just added dashes between the words, because, well, you know, she wanted to use the name. I wish that I could say that her blog isn't beautifully written, it is. I wish that I could say that the photos aren't top notch (almost commercial quality) they are gorgeous. The thing is, as slick as it is, she stole my safe place, my heart and she did it on purpose. I am heartsick (and nosebleed angry). I can't do anything about the doppelganger blog, she is (barely) within her rights. Maybe it is of no matter, can you imagine the Karma she has bought for herself? The Karma Train runs in a circle and her Karma train is running 'round in a circle to hit her from behind.

Well that, and I can out write anyone (almost), I can take pretty pictures, and, clearly, I am the only View From A Farmhouse Window that has any creativity.

And When The Wind Blows ...

2011-09-25T19:03:00.003-04:00

: The View From My Farmhouse Window For Now

I must be more diligent about taking photos of the view from here, now. The view from this farmhouse window is going to be changing, drastically, soon. You see Me, the Fab and Wild Dog Woods, as it turns out, are smack dab in the middle of where 53 to 88 whirling, white, windmills are going to go up between now and a year or so from now.
I know neighbor farmer to the south-east is getting one. That one is going to be within my girly arm throw of our south fence line. Not that I will be throwing stones. This is biglick township and folk can do what they want with their property. And I happen to think that power generating wind turbines are a fine combination of beauty and function. I can't wait until the windmills start whirring.
For once, something is happening out here. Apologies ahead of time if you were looking for ranting and raving. If we are serious about developing alternate sources of energy, they have to go somewhere. Here is fine with me.

The "X" on the map is more or less where I am. Updates as they happen.

Corn at twilight, clouds in the morning

2011-08-26T11:13:00.001-04:00

Doorway to Winter

2009-10-29T18:01:00.001-04:00

I have been busy lately, today when I looked up from my work, I noticed that Autumn had opened a doorway for Winter to creep through. Sometime soon.

Sunset This Evening ..

2009-10-28T23:01:00.000-04:00

Today was supposed to be rainy and gray, as it turns out in Ohio, weather disagreed with weather predictions.

It rained in time for the ragweed...

2009-10-27T21:20:00.001-04:00

We started taking off beans today, late because we got them in late, because I got the fields worked late, because a lot of my other work came early. Then it didn't rain until the perfect time for the ragweed to sprout. Of course ragweed will sprout no matter what. One thing that you can count on -- ragweed.

Anyway. we started taking off beans today and they are fine but not great.

This is the most exciting thing that has happened since my last blog post. Seriously. Soybeans.

After this, you won't wonder why I haven't written ...

2009-02-15T17:26:00.000-05:00

I woke up, made oatmeal for breakfast, took the dog with me to put wood in the wood stove and empty ashes. Back at the house, I started laundry, washed the garage floor (yes ... I wash the garage floor), washed the kitchen floor, switched laundry from washer to dryer, reloaded dryer. Thought about going to Mass, decided not to (a duet of decisions that has been singing together for something like 10 years). It isn't the Church, it is "the look" that you get if you go single and as a stranger. Well, people DO. Religion is fine; people need a great deal of work.

Where was I? As usual not going to church and continuing my litany of things that don't much go on in my life and why - honest - I don't write about the nothing that never happens because even I see how tedious that would be.

I got the Kubota out and took dog for a run. He found a hole in the woods, that was probably something that would bite him on the nose if I let him dig for more than a minute, so I distracted him by shouting "squirrel" and pointing further down, so off he ran and I followed him. After he realized that I had lied to him, well ... he is a dog, because he is a dog, he didn't care all that much because he decided to look for mousers in a rotting log. He didn't find any. Stop to put more wood in the stove then back to the house, started taping the Daytona 500 for the fella and I started this post.

I wonder if people realize that when they drive their four wheel drives over fields to get to a place to appreciate nature, in the process, they have almost certainly squished a few field mice.

I wonder what the heck Beyonce is plugging in that commercial where she sings and dances about upgrading something-or-other. My attention comes to a dead stop at the point where she is holding a big gold "upgrade" necklace in her teeth. Beautiful talented girl bites gaudy neckwear and right then and there, I realize that whatever she is promoting it isn't to me. Mental "click". Next.

I pause to switch laundry again.

Typical day for me, Sunday anyway. Rest of the week, subtract guilt over not publicly worshiping, add diesel fumes and mud.

Sun on a Snowy Roof Makes ...

2009-01-25T15:59:00.000-05:00

I was inside working one day last week. The sun was warm on the southern side of the school house roof, which melted the snow, the water dripped from the edges of the rain gutters, hit the cold air and froze. Of course that happened over and over again until the icicles formed and I looked out the window and took a picture. Of course.

So, guess the wild one isn't THIS one.

2009-01-13T20:36:00.003-05:00

The big big, get ready it is on the way monster, batten down the hatches storm that Fabiola talked about here, seems to have uhhh, rethought the whole issue and decided to become a light snowfall with icy cold and little wind. Sold!

Still cold, even with snow, is tollerable. The prep that everyone here did will not go unused. There will be one or two wild days yet in this season, and as the worst rarely happens with the three day advance notice of nothing that this one got, being ready ahead of time is all logs on the fire and fuzzy slippers on the feet.

But I was all ready to tell stories of bravery once removed. Once removed, as I refuse to go out until the storm is done stormin but the fella and the local boys always come up with an excuse as to why they have to brave the elements after they have been inside for more than 12 hours.

"Oh, LOOK! Neighbor up the road is headed this way in his four wheel drive and Neighbor to the south is headed that way up the road with his plow truck. Wonder if they can see each other? Nevermind, I hear snowmobiles, it they are all locals and know where the ditches are they can make sure the boys get home fine."

I will be standing warm at the window with my fuzzy slippers on. Watching and lauging.

Saturday Night Slipping Round In The Dark ...

2009-01-10T20:18:00.004-05:00

Saturday Night just past dark, I slip into my dancin shoes and don my brightest, best sliding through the night finery. Off I go, out the door and down the lane anticipating a meeting in the semi dark. Ember stirring is my intent. Without a word spoken, fuel added to glowing coals produce flame which slowly grows to a fire and...

Oh, it's a regular thing, me and my woodstove. 'Most every night in the winter, around dark, I put my work shoes and several layers of outdoor clothes and with puppy I walk while he runs down to the shop to fill the woodstove and set the dampers for the night so there will be heat in the morning. Tonight was no different than most before except for the blowing snow which wasn't nearly as deep as the weather people predicted, which is just as well, but no big deal one way or the other.

Saturday night in a world where starlight is often enough to light the way to where I want to go.

Waiting for Spring ...

2009-01-07T21:34:00.003-05:00

Rhonda in the post below wrote a comment regarding hanging in through the dark until Spring. This time of year is always a challenge. But of course we can hang in!

A couple of weeks from now the January thaw will happen. It always does. Round about the third week of January, after a forever of the worst cold and miserable the year throws at us, comes a few days, maybe almost a whole week when the sun shines and the weather warms. Most years, one day a couple of days in the air will smell of Spring.

That is the day in winter that I wait for, the one that smells of warming earth with a hint of a promise of green. That day is Old Man Winter's exit cue, the day that he starts to pack-up getting ready to go. Of course we can hang in waiting for the day that reminds us why Spring is so glorious.

A Day for Bittersweet Songs and Hot Coffee ..

2009-01-06T20:57:00.005-05:00

If the sun ever got round to rising today, there was little evidence in the light. Early January seems to bring grey days with her when she sweeps in all silver and cold. Today was all freezing mist slowly glazing everything with a fine coat of ice. It was a day to stay inside and mostly, I did, playing bittersweet songs from the seventies, Carole King and Dan Fogelberg and ... well, if you are near my age, you know the ones. And always, as always a pot of hot, hot coffee went with me across the street to the office, along with a half full half gallon of Chocolate Silk to mix in.

Fabiola didn't venture out when I did a few times, to skate to the mail-box and back, then later to the house. After dark, puppy and I slid down to the pole barn to re-fill the wood stove, I guess so that the trucks don't get cold. Although on a day like today, they weren't going anywhere. Unless a have-to came along, fortunately, it didn't.

Even through the gray, I did notice was the the days are getting longer at last. A hint of coming Spring in a few additional minutes of gray light today. But it is still dark when I get to work and dark when I leave. Today was all silver in the middle.

Starting Over, over again

2009-01-05T18:44:00.002-05:00

I spent about half an hour yesterday going through some of my old posts. My reaction? Who the hell is that person? What happened to her and where did she go? I liked her, before she got busy and tired and, frankly, stopped feeling much of anything anymore.

So, (mentally shaking my hands in the air to clear the current from them and maybe, just maybe, hook into that wave in the air that sometimes if you are creative and looking carries ideas along waiting to be pulled out for a look see). Ut-oh crazy talk.

Not so much, really. Ever notice how bloggers that write rather than report often write about similar odd ideas on the same day. Or you were just going to write about ... but ... wrote about it today and you don't want to seem to be snagging ideas from them. But you thought it was passing strange that they ...

There is a wave in the air, or a river, or a net, a cosmic something or other that has all sorts of interesting things flying or swimming or just hanging around waiting for you to come by. Yes, yes, I know, crazy talk. Still. Reaching.

Not there not at the moment. Back to where I was. Starting here.

I didn't do the tree ...

2009-01-03T19:48:00.003-05:00

Or the gingerbread house or even most of the dinner.

Christmas was wonderful though. The family made that happen. Always does.

Just as well that they are they as I was ...

Well, I was me but mostly in the field or on the road until just past noon on Christmas Eve. It rained (can I hear an amen?) or the time would have been later and things more stressed than they were. As it was, today is the first day that I have had to do anything that I wanted to do since just, no, before ... was it ... two weeks before Thanksgiving. Yow.

While I was busy, the doing wasn't all that interesting. No, trust me. Most of it required multiple layers of warm machine washable clothing that were left in a state that would make Tim Gunn weep. Now that I think about it, my typical wardrobe, even clean, would make that him have nightmares for a solid month. I would say that I don't care, but I do. There is, however not a thing that I can do about that.

That or the complete lack of any interesting doings to tell you about. Gotta do something about this life. I just realized that I barely exist.

Quick, anyone, tell me -- do I appear as only a shadow? I suspect that I might.

Countdown to Christmas Without a Tree -- 7 Days

2008-12-18T05:00:00.000-05:00

Is the tree out of the box? No. Am I anywhere near the box? No again. Will I pull of putting up the tree this year? Dunno.

Did I mention that the Fella's family is coming for Christmas dinner? Have I bought the turkey, ham and roast beef ? No. Is there going to be no tree AND no dinner? Maybe.

Is it time for me to start hyperventilating? Almost.

To tree or not to tree?

2008-12-16T20:13:00.001-05:00

It just occured to me that I have no idea where my cell phone is. It hasn't been lost long, just an hour maybe, still. Oh! It isn't as if I am waiting for a call from the president or anything. Usually the phone ringing means that a customer needs something, and if a customer needs something, I need to answer.

Is it digressing if I have not even started towards my point?

Sorry, I have now lost my point entirely. I spent the last fifteen minutes chasing a kitten through the house.

Not this Kitten (Pretty Kitty) yah bad name, I know. I was chasing Pretty Kitty's daughter who looks just like this, but won't sit still long enough for me to take a photo.

Nevermind.

Despite what Fabiola would have you believe, my Christmas tree is not up yet. In fact, I am wondering if I can get away with not putting it up at all this year. Yah, I know, doubt it too. Just out of town busy a lot in the next couple of weeks. Yep, know that too. Week and a half. The fella will be around, but to him Christmas trees are for looking at not putting up and decorating. Yep, heard it, have SAID it, no sale. Shrug.

I don't want to put up the tree. I don't. Come Christmas day, I will be sorry if I don't. Sigh.

Gotta go talk to Fabiola.

Top Ten List of Strange Things That I Did This Year, That You Probably Didn't

2008-12-12T17:43:00.004-05:00

I made a list of 10 things that I did this year that you probably didn't do. I bet that you have done things this past year that I didn't.

1. I dug for Emeralds,

2. went hunting for the wild strawberry,

3. wrote a Squidoo lens on fighting forties depression,

4. installed a switch and a siding on a railroad track.

5. walked in a wild garden in the woods and noticed only by me ...

6. took a photo of a cloud that looked just like a bunny,

7. made a ginormously big ball of bailing twine,

8. Climbed into the bottom of a tile blow-out hole,

9. lost my underpants, (they turned up later in with my dust rags, no we will not go into the tragic implications of lingerie that can be confused with cleaning cloths.)

and more than once,

10. I spent every minute of every hour of an entire day (Sunrise to Sunset) outside in more or less the same spot. (Provided that the definition of ‘spot” can encompass 40 acres.)

What did you do this year?

Not so much of an update as ....

2008-12-09T19:23:00.000-05:00

Hello there! This is not so much an update as ... it is ... well, me babbling for a bit about nothing. Mostly, mostly. Even though I have not posted anything since October, I still have noting new and exciting to report. No, seriously. Same old, same old. Christmas is on the way, and I am less ready than usual. Imagine. I caught myself wondering today if I could get away with not putting up the Christmas Tree this year. I still have not completed a Christmas Tree skirt. <-- Fabiola talks about the Christmas Tree Skirt that isn't, and may never be. I guess that it will be a swath of green felt yet again. I wonder if Christmas Tree Skirts now occupy the same spot in my brain where burning the bottoms of the brown and serve rolls reside.

Yes, in keeping with tradition, I burned the bottoms of the brown and serve rolls on Thanksgiving. I always do. I don't know why. Karma.

The turkey was perfect.

Ok, I thought that if I just sit down and type an idea would come to me. All that comes to mind is dressing in layers to go outside. Yesterday was a two blaze orange knit cap day, one on top of the other. My head was very bright and very warm.

Sigh, more later, maybe.

Purple and White Asters and October

2008-10-14T20:56:00.002-04:00

I promised Asters days and days ago, and that turned out to be a lie. Not a great big whopper on purpose lie, but a world spinning at odd angles and there just aren't enough hours in the day sort of lie.

I wait for the Asters every year, they bloom in the fall after the goldenrod, the evening primrose, and the sunflowers. Last but for the Dandelions which are almost always with us, last and best because they are tall - waist high - and perfect pure white or purple. Every year I tell myself that this year I will dig some and move them from the edges of wild dog wood and put them nearer the house, so that I can see them without walking through the woods and the falling leaves. But then, I see them where they want to grow and something stops me, so where they are they stay. In October, after the evening primrose and the goldenrod and the sunflowers, when the leaves are falling and the wind warns of coming winter, the Asters bloom.

Quick Hello!

2008-10-07T22:44:00.003-04:00

I haven't posted here in a while because I have been footly-tootling around over on Fabiola. And working.

Asters are blooming now. I promise that tomorrow I will get photos and write something more than an electronic wave.

Michigan Lilys in July

2008-08-03T20:45:00.002-04:00

Sigh. Wild busy the last month or so, no excuse, I know. Still I did take photos of my Michigan Lilys. I have a whole patch growing wild in the woods. I am the only one that ever sees them, because while the railroad runs all around the patch of woods where they live, the train never stops near. If the train did stop, no one would get off to walk through the woods. Why would they? Michigan Lilys in July, that is why. But no one ever sees them except for me, the woods spiders, and birds.

I have a whole patch of Michigan Lilys growing wild in the woods and no one sees them but me, and you dear readers, you.

I Lost My Underpants

2008-06-02T20:18:00.002-04:00

For those of you that found this by searching the word underpants ... large, white, cotton, just out of the dryer, old chick, big behind.

Ok, now that they are gone ...

The mystery of the missing underwear. File this under - I just can't multi task. Worked outside all day, came in wanting nothing more than to jump into the shower then clean clothes, I collected pants, shirt, unmentionables then headed towards the bathroom. As I was hanging my fresh clothes on a hook, cell rang, the fella wanted me to quick DVR something for him so, underwear still in hand I headed to the front of the house and the TV.

Channel found, recording started headed back to the shower. Done, out, clean, no underpants on the hook. Sigh. In a towel, I traipse through the back hall and kitchen, searching for my errant under things. No where to be found.

New dainties out of the dryer, dressed dinner and a search for missing bloomers started.

I know that I had them, I know that I carried them with me to the TV in the living room, I know that they are no where obvious (and a few places that wouldn't be obvious, but I looked there too).

I do know that they will turn up somewhere, Iworry that they will turn up somewhere odd and while we have company.

More Wildflowers This Time In June

2008-06-01T16:51:00.004-04:00

Daisy Fleabane

Erigeron annuus

Daisy Fleabane is a pretty flower about 2-1/2 feet tall with small daisy-like blooms. It blooms from early June through autumn. Daisy Fleabane is a wildflower that I encourage as the crushed leaves and stems act as an insect repellant.

Red Clover

Trifolium pratense

Geocaching Visitors

2008-05-31T06:00:00.000-04:00

The other group of accidental visitors was a Dad, son, cousin and friend who were camping in the area and were headed up the road to look for a Geocache site. Serendipity hit and we were for the very first time this year running our Plymouth TGT around the track and were just headed up the hill towards the station. Our accidental visitors were driving their truck up the road parallel to the track and slowed to match our pace. They pulled into the driveway and I waved them over and asked if they wanted a ride. They did.

After the train ride, we all wandered into the rail shed and the boys took turns running the hand car. Then they were back to geocaching.

Look here for a Squidoo Lens on Geocaching

Maybe it was the contrast ...

2008-05-29T06:00:00.001-04:00

Previous to hearing that I tore down a visitor's Grandfather's house, previous by a week, we had two wonderful, different groups of accidental visitors. Talking about just one of those groups today.

The first group was two women who weren't exactly lost -- just 2 miles west of where they thought that they were. In driving from the Toledo area south to home in Florida, they happened down the wrong road and spotted the school house. They decided to stop and walk through the cemetary beside. As they were headed back to their car, they peeked into the door window of the school house. I was in the school house so I opened the door and asked them if they wanted to come in. They did.

We started chatting and because they were interesting as well as interested, I found out that one of them works for Disney in online live help. I wasn't surprised to discover that a customer service person for Disney was genuinely nice, genuinely interested in the world that she was driving through and every bit as bubbly outgoing as everything Disney. What a treat to meet someone like that!

Of course when she mentioned Disney, I mentioned the magical narrow gauge steam trains at the park, she mentioned how Walt Disney loved trains, I asked her if she wanted to run across the road to see my locomotives. She did.

Wrapping up an already too long story, people stopping by accident or design is nothing unusual, getting the opportunity to speak with a person as genuinely nice as the one above is a spcial treat.

You Tore Down My Grandfather's House

2008-05-27T06:00:00.003-04:00

Spoken in the tone of surprise and insult twice removed, a complete stranger opened his monologue. "You tore down my Grandfather's house".

As I had just walked up from where we had been working for hours on the switch for a siding and I was looking forward to lunch and a rest instead of bizarre not quite accusitory statements spoken from the driver's seat of a vehicle that wasn't actually supposed to be in my driveway.

"You tore down my Grandfather's house", was followed by suspiciously few self centered snippets of information, some accurate, some not so much regarding the "history" of the propperty.

"You tore down my Grandfather's house" got a response of "Yes, I did, but we spent months trying to figure out how to make the old house livable for a modern family, and even with that, the foundation was rotting ..." shrug -- he wasn't listening.

He announced that his Grandfather's house was a Sears & Roebuck kit house. Ohhhhh. His tone of voice when he said "Sears & Roebuck Kit House" signaled disdain for me not agreeing with the (recently popular) notion that Sears kit houses are buildings allways worth restoration. I ignored the tone of disdain and the implication. He didn't know that "Grandfather's House" was a Montgomery Ward kit house -I didn't correct his misrememberance. Misrememberance it was -- we did the research in the process of trying to determine whether to save the house or build new. Ward house, soooo sorry.

He mistook the schoolhouse (the one we restored foundation up) for the church that once stood next to the school house but burned long ago. Shrug. The church was wood frame and white, the school house brick. But Grandpap was pastor of the long gone church, so ... He could not have been less interested in the railroad when I mentioned it. (More actual historical preservation lost on him). Didn't want to drive around the pole barn (heck he was already far enough into the driveway to be around the back of the house), to talk to the fella who had lived in Grandpap's house since he was 8 or so, didnt want to take a peek inside the school house.

I guess that he just wanted me to know that I tore down his Grandfather's house, (...which would have been a chi chi poo poo maybe semi-historical building, if he hadn't been wrong) . I wanted him to know that event took place seven years ago and that a half hour drive for him at any point in the last almost decade and he would have known sooner. Oh, and he was tresspassing.

Working In Time For Wildflowers

2008-05-26T06:00:00.000-04:00

Cinqfoil
King Devil
May Apple
Solomon's Plume
Wild Strawberry

Sunday was a busy day, spent mostly working on a switch for the railroad. Puppy and I took a walk durring a break and found these May wildflowers.

Today Was a Railroad Day ...

2008-05-25T22:30:00.001-04:00

On this beautiful, perfect Spring Day, the Fella, friend Mark and I started putting in a switch off of the mainline of the Alvada Two-Footer Railroad (more details on my railroad blog -- Little Locos). Work went well, and while the boys were off in the rail shed, I took a walk and shot a few more photos of wildflowers (that I will post later). At the end of the day, I ran the little TGT Locomotive around the track and took some clips of the ride. The one below is the last, as I was pulling into the station.

More April Wildflowers Phlox and Yellow Violets

2008-05-16T06:00:00.002-04:00

Flowers that I look forward to every year. There is more of a point to these photos than just the photos. I will get to it.

Another Baby Bluebird Photo

2008-05-15T06:00:00.000-04:00

Taken just today. This will be the last peek until they leave the nest --- they have gotten old enough to be frightened of peoples. Bluebird wisdom.

Bluebirds and Fred

2008-05-14T06:00:00.003-04:00

Fred checking the nest box.

This year's baby bluebirds

Fred is a neighbor and one of his many many interests is bluebirds. He has placed bluebird nesting boxes on his farm, and a few years ago asked if I wanted one outside the school house. From time to time he stops to check in on my bluebird family.

For more information on all things bluebird ...

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bluebird

http://www.nabluebirdsociety.org/

Wildflowers - trillium grandiflorum - Ohio State Wildflower

2008-05-13T06:00:00.006-04:00

This showy wildflower is not only beautiful, it is the Ohio State Wildflower.

Wildflowers - Dutchmans Breeches - Dicentra cucullaria

2008-05-12T06:00:00.000-04:00

Walks in the woods, in the spring mean wildflowers. I have been walking and taking photos, just now catching up on putting them somewhere. Today - Dutchmans Breeches -Dicentra cucullaria, they grow about 6 to 8 inches high and this year they are all over the place!

Dutchman's Breeches are relatives of Squirrel Corn and Bleeding Hearts.

Celebrity Look-Alikes?

2008-05-03T07:40:00.001-04:00

http://www.myheritage.com/collage

More on the School House

2008-03-11T21:37:00.004-04:00

More on the school house ...

Until several years ago, the remaining alumni of the school held annual reunions at the school house. If locals want to stop in or use the building for a function, mostly we let them.

When we acquired the school house, she was mostly structurally sound -- give or take. We got the opportunity to buy her because the fella's mother was a grange member and the building was right across the road from her home and while the Grange took good care of her with the little money that they had, the membership was dwindling and aging and the school house was at the point where she needed major work.

We had her lifted onto beams to have the foundation repaired to correct areas where the foundation had settled to the point where the structure was threatened.

Removed the old slates on the roof most of which were cracked or loose where they weren't missing entirely, and put a new roof on.

Put in a heating and ac system, put a new pump (replacing the old hand pump) in the well and ran water to the school house. Grandfathered in a septic system (replacing the out house).

Re plastered the interior - using lath and plaster no less.

Sanded and re sealed all the wood work including the floor.

Even though we did all the work that we could do ourselves it was still an expensive undertaking. I believe with all my heart that it was worth it, because the building is important to the community and there are very few old one room school houses left in more or less original condition. This one didn't get turned into a machine storage shed, nor was it left to rot.

Office, storage shed or nothing were the options, because the school house is on a parcel of land that is too small for it to be anything else ever. Shrug. What it is -- enough.

Regardless, I promised Rhonda that I would post a photo of my REAL office (the one where I spend most of my time).

Not exactly as comfy as the school house but a productive work place none the less.

One Room Red Brick School House

2008-03-10T21:35:00.005-04:00

Particulars: (Former) Name - Biglick #6

May 2, 1861 (1/4 acre – more or less) of property was deeded by Samuel Kemble to the Board of Education. This brick school house was built in 1880 to replace a log and plaster building that was lost in a fire.

For 65 years regular sessions were held until the school closed in the spring of 1926. The 18 students still attending Biglick #6 transferred to a new centralized school in Vanlue, Ohio.

When the school closed, the building and property was sold to the Biglick Center Grange #2224 for $205.00. The Grange held regular meetings in the school house until December of 1995 when they sold the property and school house to us.

We did a complete restore kept the original floor, woodwork, stage, curtains, chalk rail and one section of the slate chalkboard.

This is bare bones tonight because it is late. More later.

School House In Snow

2008-03-09T19:31:00.002-04:00

By request a quick photo (from across the street -- see the snow drift in the foreground? 4 foot deep. I could have but didn't want to wade through or around it today. But like Scarlet said "Tomorrow is another day".

I will get some interior shots too, it is way wonderful inside.

This Is Where I Live

2008-03-06T22:07:00.002-05:00

This is where I Live.

40 some acres of most of the year green, plus a quarter acre across the road, 3o some tillable, 8 woods containing a railroad track in a lopsided 2/3 mile figure 8 that I have walked at least 1500 times, operated a locomotive engine (and passenger cars) over almost as many, and crawled a goodly part of it on hands and knees once. There is a house that I did the plans for and helped build, threatened to knock down with an excavator over wall stencils (you so have to hear that story sometime -- never teach a woman to operate heavy equipment then expect her to not use it when confronted with the threat of bad wall art -- maybe it is just me. Nevermind. That story when I am not being all poetic.)

The quarter acre holds a building that used to be a one room red brick school house then was the meeting place for the farmer's grange and now is my office and has always been next to a local grave yard which is not haunted but is just across the road from where I sleep. Homesteaders and long gone residents are my nearest neighbors and that is a fine thing in my estimation.

The North-West most corner of a former Wyandot Indian Reservation, South-East most corner of the area encompassing the Great Black Swamp a place defined by almost and close-to and used to be, but is now. Home.

I know the soil and I know the trees and I (laughing) almost never leave. But who needs to? Spring is almost here and the birds are returning and it may not be enough for city folk who need action and traffic and something always going on, but for some, me, that which has happened and the happenings just a calendar page turn away are where I live. I wouldn't have it any other way.

This is where I live.

Winter and Wind

2008-02-10T20:49:00.001-05:00

Today was one of those winter days that is bright and blue blazes cold and ::sigh:: windy. Thermometer started at 16 degrees F. and fell from there. Yow.

Wish that this was one of those days where I could have just curled up in a blanky on the couch -- watching the Tee Vee. But it wasn't. Three times I had to layer up and go outside to do various chores. I swear -- putting on insulated coveralls, a jacket, ear muffs, a muffler, puffy down jacket, three watch caps (one over the other) -- no I am not kidding, then taking it all off at the end of chores, took longer than the chores themselves. I was puffy -- but I wasn't cold.

Take that winter!

Weather Notes and Wild Dog

2008-02-08T21:29:00.000-05:00

Up down, rain, ice, the weather has changed three times a day every day for the last week. And now, folk that should know say that killing cold is a day away.

I have been in a funk, and thought it might be the reason, I looked at the calendar, then I knew.

For those of you that aren't dog people, you may not understand, but tonight is the second anniversary of the passing of my "wild dog", my buddy, my ungroomed, perpetually burred up, bark loud enough to wake the world, go anywhere in a truck, insist on evening walkies, complete mess of a golden retriever, sleep inside on the leather couch - but who cares, because he was my best pal in the whole world, dog.

Tonight, tonight, I don't know whether to be sad that he is gone, or singing songs of joy because he was part of my life. Buddy, Cowhead, Wild Dog was one of the best.

Below is his photo and below that are links to some of the best entries that I wrote about him in my AOL journal. The last one still makes me cry.

Go Fly A Kite

Two Ways

A Good Dog Can Make You Believe In Forever

Wild Dog's Last Walk

And if you read the above and are bummed out -- I also included links to two funny entries (ya have to read them both). Entries that don't feature my wild dog -- but puppy and a cat make an appearance. These two still make me laugh.

It all started with Nine Ladies Dancing

And Then The Cat Fell Into The Bathtub

Road Trip - Emerald Hollow Mine and Other Stuff

2008-02-03T10:05:00.000-05:00

Headed South to attend a technical conference in Atlanta, Georgia. Conference, informative, Atlanta? Beautiful! Stunning, mean it.

While I was in the area I took advantage of a few free hours to do the tourista thing. I visited The General Locomotive at the Southern Museum of Civil War and Locomotive History.

Now, I had only an hour, so I scooted through the museum. Civil War buffs could spend a whole day there. There are that many displays. Interesting to me was that the curators clearly worked at presenting as many perspectives on the war as they could. Fascinating. I wished that I had more time, but I didn't. I was there to see The General. So, I did.

Steam Locomotives, way cool.

After the conference, day one, I visited the World of Coca-Cola. A Hoot. To do the tour takes about an hour and a half, it is as Kitschy as all giddy-up and worth every second. Swear.

If you plan to go -- please please make sure that you put the NEW address into your navigator. I landed at the old address first, that location is now a developing shopping mall of sorts and while the mall was clean and the pretzel vendor there makes yummy yummy cinamon sugar covered soft pretzel bites, it wasn't where I was headed.

After the conference day two, before leaving Atlanta, I headed to the Atlanta Aquarium. YOU GET TO WALK THROUGH A SEA TANK! The fish are swimming over and on both sides of you. Amazing. No other word for it.

Ray swimming right over my head. Look he is smiling!

Around the back side of the walk through tank are round windows. There was an immense grouper hanging out in one of them.

And then there were the tanks with the Jellys in them. Mesmerizing.

Ok, now, here is the part of my trip that I was looking forward to. Between Atlanta, Georgia and Southern Ohio where I had to visit a jobsite, was a four hour window in my drive time and North Carolina. Yep, I had to visit the Emerald Hollow Mine. Had to had to had to.

Of course, I heard about Hiddenite, NC while watching the Travel Channel's "Cash and Treasures". Did I absolutely have to go? Yep. Did I think that I was going to walk away with a giant emerald? Nope.

I had an absolute blast, not because my standards are low, but because my reality level is high. There is a reason that real mining is done with quarry trucks, dynamite and excavators moving tons and tons of dirt and rock to find a few gems. I had a shovel and a bucket. What were the odds that I would happen onto an emerald whilst a rooting and wallerin around in the carolina red clay?

I did find some very nice quartz and because I live in a part of the world that features beautiful, inclusion free, white limestone as the only local rock, finding anything that wasn't white limestone was aces with me.

Best part? The people that I met. First, the fine folk that work at the Emerald Hollow Mine. Wonderful people. Country gracious and friendly people.

Translation for city folk:

Country gracious and friendly is polite, helpful and as interested in you as people have time for.

There, between keeping citidiots from wandering off and getting lost, tumbling down the mountain, or undermining boulders to the point where the boulders dislodge and squish folk that slept through earth sciences and physics or just generally attempting to prevent urbanites from getting themselves killed in some way that no country person would ever consider, the folk at the mine just tell you how it is, they don't take the time to slop a bunch of unctuous gobbledy gook words all over reality. Nothing in the world wrong with that.

Why am I saying all this?

There is a couple posting on the internet (and posting and posting and posting) that the folks at the Emerald Hollow Mine are rude and nasty. Not so.

That the mine is too touristy for Gem hunting purists. That even though they dug for a day, they didn't walk away with piles and piles of emeralds. Duh.

Any experience is what you make of it. I had an absolute blast.

If you plan to go gem hunting take with you:

Sturdy Boots with ankle support. You will be walking up and down hills, carrying heavy buckets over rough trails.

Clothing appropriate for digging and the weather. I suggest coveralls and at a minimum gardening gloves. Leather work gloves or disposable jersy gloves would be better. Add jacket and coat layers appropriate for the temperature.

Take a plastic container with a lid (or a garbage bag) large enough to accommodate your work gear and boots for after your dig.

I wish that I had taken a hand trowell and several squirty bottles of water for washing off rocks. I will next time.

Why did I have a blast? I didn't find emeralds but I did find treasure. As I drove up there was a couple that just stopped in too. Judy and Jim. They were there for the same reason as I was, to root around in the dirt and maybe, just maybe find an emerald, but probably not.

These two people were so full of joy and laughter that I can't imagine anyone having anything less than a wonderful time in their company. Wonderful wonderful people. If you are in Florida the next month, look for them, follow the laughter.

All Play, No Slobber!

2008-01-19T20:19:00.000-05:00

Kinda make ya wanna listen to this audio entry, doesn't it?

Audio from the Kroger --> No Slobber!

Also today!

Garbage Bag Angst (part one)

Garbage Bag Angst Resolved

This Cat Doesn't Like Me...

2008-01-12T20:46:00.000-05:00

I guess that he doesn't have to. It is the look of total disdain that gets under my skin.

He is beautiful for a wild cat though. Wonder where he really belongs (when he isn't sitting on my porch looking in the windows at me)?

When Pets Attack ...

2008-01-10T21:04:00.000-05:00

Fabiola (my largely fabricated alter ego) introduced her version of Puppy today. Who is Puppy? In the RW Puppy is a black lab / dal / goodness only knows what else mix. For a doggy dog, he is well behaved, except, sometimes on walkies. If I am not paying enough attention, he sneaks away then returns at full speed, leaps into the air and bounces off of me using all four feet.

From his reaction, he thinks this is a hysterically funny funny dog joke. Puppy.

January Thaw

2008-01-09T18:31:00.000-05:00

The weather yesterday and the day before was absolutely, warm. Turn all the water that had been storing up inside the frozen ground to squishy, delightful splashy, end up all over your shoes despite the stone on the driveway mud.

The only time I am actually happy to see mud is in early January, when the mud could be ice instead.

Well .. THAT Holiday didn't go as expected!

2007-12-30T10:07:00.000-05:00

Wow. Oh, dinner was great. Because the fella's family is made-up of wonderful, fun people, we had a blast. As always, as always.

I didn't decorate, except for the Christmas tree.

Wild busy came a calling 2 weeks before Christmas and like the worst of unexpected visitors -- stayed a lot longer than was convienent.

Still. Dinner happened, was wonderful, but I will not be winning the "decorator of the year" award anyting soon.

Yep, Phlox

2007-12-17T17:39:00.000-05:00

Today started early and outside. Moving snow, doing this and that it was 2 pm before I got inside for a few minutes. Fill the shop wood burner, lunch, back into my layers and out again until 4. My fingers and toes were cold, my hair roots were cold.

Inside now and searching for warm-ups. Fuzzy wooly slippers, hot hot hot coffee and a grilled cheese for dinner, eyeing the bathtub and contemplating a good long soak.

Oh, and went though some old photos files, looking for summer. Found the phlox which live in spring. Spring, good enough, on this first snowy snowy day of almost real winter.

Walking in a Snow Storm

2007-12-16T13:52:00.000-05:00

Couldn't see well enough to drive in the blowing snow (not that this stopped the fella or the neighbor up the road from trying), but walking was just fine, with layers.

White and black and grey were the colors today.

Puppy, as usual, was full speed ahead.

Five, maybe six inches of snow slowed me down. Well, that and the long john's jeans, insulated coveralls, down parka and knee high super duper waterproof snowproof 30 below boots.

I took photos of the baby railroad in the snow too. Snowy Railroad.

It is supposed to snow ...

2007-12-15T10:14:00.000-05:00

Big Storm! On the way, probably. Most likely. 8 - 15 inches of snow. Unless it turns to rain, which might be freezing rain, or not. Unless the weather forecasters are wrong, which they often are. This trend seems to have become worse in the last 2 or 3 years. I wonder if they are over-warning to avoid being accused of not warning enough. Just in case.

Regardless of the reason, I started cutting the direst of their predictions in half this year. Don't get me wrong, I prepare for the worst but I don't get all freaked out until something starts happening. And I bet the weather folk wonder why a lot of us have problems believing them when they start yammering on about global warming and what the weather is going to be doing in 25 - 50 - 100 years. Get today right, extend that to next week, THEN tell me about weather two decades from now.

"Wolf" or Weather? Wonder which how it will end today?

Ho Ho Ho -ld on there you symbol smashers!

2007-12-13T22:46:00.000-05:00

The surgeon general of the U.S. believes that Santa should loose weight. For the sake of the children. Santa sets a bad example. Does the surgeon general not understand that Santa is a symbol of goodness, generosity and seasonal magic? How do you put imagination on a diet?

Besides of course, plopping youngsters in front of a TV or video game for hours endless while stuffing them full of snack foods and sweetened beverages? Filling their heads with pc notions encouraging over sensitivity for the feelings of unidentified women who might, just might be offended at hearing Ho Ho Ho.

For the love of wrapping paper.

Toilet Paper, Bread, Milk and Eggs will get you through any weather ...

2007-11-30T20:23:00.000-05:00

Well, they can. At least that is what a whole bunch of us must believe.

Audio Entry from the Grocery

Kroger Survey

2007-11-29T19:50:00.000-05:00

Ha! I just filled out an on-line marketing survey for guess which store? Yep!

Myfavoritestoreinthewholeworld Kroger.

The marketing company emailed me the link to the survey because I have a Kroger card, and use it. As I clicked my way through the series of questions, I kept waiting for a question along the lines of ... do you, buy chance, keep a blog and record audio entries from the grocery store, from time to time? They didn't think to ask that. LOL.

***If you know this blog from Blogger, you won't understand the above. My AOL journal has a way to record audio entries using a cell phone. How do I make use of this marvelous piece of technology? I talk and shop for groceries. Because I am not a multi tasker, mostly I just sound confused and can't find the things that I am supposed to be buying, because I can't remember what I am supposed to find. It isn't all that entertaining, but it is a niche that I have all to myself. Oh! Wait! This is what they are like -- The Marshmallow Meltdown! Marshmallow Melt Down Part One and Marshmallow Meltdown Part Two. These were two of the best.

Regardless:

They did have a question that asked why I shopped there, I could have picked 3 answers, they got one. Friendly helpful employees. To me that matters more than prices, selection, deli, produce, bakery, pharmacy or whether or not they have seafood. The Kroger stores in this area have the friendly helpful thing down.

Friendly helpful employees is why I shop the Kroger and why I can't think of one thing that the stores with the surly or pointedly disinterested employees could do to get me to shop there unless I HAVE to.

Christmas Decorating Theme

2007-11-29T07:09:00.000-05:00

Christmas decorating theme. I may never watch the news again. Fabiola has just informed me that if the First Lady has a decorating theme for each Christmas, Fabiola wants a theme too.

Christmas ISN'T theme enough for Fabiola? Yikes.

I am thinking --- I am thinking that I have to get to work, actually. Suggestions anyone?

Dancing With The Stars ... my headband is

2007-11-28T20:40:00.000-05:00

Just clear of the first barn, as I found myself suddenly walking on an unintentional diagonal because of the wind, my headband took flight. It didn't drop to the ground and roll over and away like seed corn hats do, my rolled up farmercheif of a headband commenced to flapping and snapping and away it flew, headed who knows where. But it went mostly up, like a kite off its string, headed starward, that I know. No doubt it will be discovered tomorrow somewhere unfortunate, and I will have to explain that while I was on my way down to fill the wood burner ...

Blog Cleaning: I moved my "To Do List" to another date, because seeing it first when the blog loads was boring me already. I will linky as items are filled in.

Weeds are Wildflowers ...

2007-11-27T22:00:00.000-05:00

"Why are you painting weeds?" the fella asked me today.

Answer, "Christmas". He walked away shaking his head. Fabiola put me up to it. She did. I wasn't sure about the idea, so while I was out ripping dead weeds, umm wildflowers out of the ground, I grabbed some asters, thistles and goldenrod too.

Martha Stewart was painting wood grain wrapping paper today. If Martha can wrap her Christmas presents in fake woodgrain paper -- I can plop dead weeds in the middle of a Christmas centerpiece.

Yes, there should be a photo -- once I see how my painted weeds turn out I will take one.

Why The Fella, I, (sigh ... and Fabiola) Always Get to do Christmas Dinner

2007-11-26T21:27:00.000-05:00

A picture says a thousand words ...

This is a photo taken in my basement. Later, once I get decorating done, I will post a photo of the Christmas version. Oh stop! We designed and built the house ourselves (literally). No way in the world we could have a finished basement like this if we hadn't done most of the work on the house ourselves. That story some other time.

Anyway, we do some entertaining, from time to time. We usually have a summer party, at one of them somewhere in the neighborhood of 400 people attended. I didn't hire a caterer, I survived. 15 to 30 people for Christmas dinner? Walk in the park.

The purpose of the dueling Christmas To Do Lists (mine and Fabiola's), besides the obvious, oh, yah, I do have to do that sooner rather than later part, is to let others walk through the experience with someone that has done it before, so that it doesn't seem so overwhelming.

It is 24 days until Christmas, decorations will be put up, cards will go out, dinner will be great, I will probably end-up hosting a New Year's Eve party the week after. I will not end-up as a hysterical, babbling nut case. Probably.

Starting To Think About Getting Ready For Christmas

2007-11-25T22:51:00.000-05:00

Thanksgiving passes and Fabiola becomes a stick of dynamite packed into the center of a huge bale of red and green metallic confetti just waiting to explode in a glittering phantasmagoria of frivolity and decorative excess. Two bars into “Sleigh Ride” and her trick fuse ignites, I spend the next month stomping out the flame, only to have it re-ignite the second that I am not paying attention.

I know that she is going to have horrible things to say about me, we fight this busy time of year. Much to be done, short time to do it, too much time spent on froo froo and dinner wont be ready, packages won’t be wrapped, I will end up throwing ornaments at the tree while guests are driving in the driveway.

Still, she does have some good ideas. Fabiola talked me into buying a chocolate fondue fountain a couple of years ago. It was a huge hit. With some luck, she will stay quiet long enough for me to complete my "To Do" list.

Fallen Leaves and Potato Salad

2007-11-24T07:35:00.000-05:00

If you are taking some time this weekend to shop or start putting up your holiday decorations (or in my case -- wander aimlessly through the woods takin' pictures before putting up holiday decorations) AND you are local to Findlay, Tiffin, Fostoria or Carey -- Ohio, give yourself a break from cooking dinner tonight. Drive to 11 North Perry Street, New Riegel, Ohio. Paul's Market. Go back to the meat / deli counter. Ask for Lori's homemade potato salad.

Or homemade macaroni salad. Buy some. Pick-up somthing to go with it (I like ham for sandwiches, they also sell "ham chunks n slices" <-- that is what I call it, vacu packed in 2 or 3 pound packages another excellent excellent local product - no I mean it best ham I have ever tasted).

Now, I am a fair cook, been doing it for years, the fella grew up with a mother that could put together flavors like nobody's business. Evelyn was a great cook. Still, neither of us, on our best day, could come close to the (yes the rest of this post is going to be me enthusing about potato and macaroni salad) to the flavor of Lori's potato salad. Seriously. Little bit of mustard, little bit of pickle relish, boiled egg ... a zippy dressing that clings to the potatoes without going runny. Oh, and while the dressing has an amazing tangy sweet flavor it does not overwhelm the potato taste. I have no idea how she does it. I have been back 3 times to see if the first was just a fluke. Nope. Same wonderful salad every time.

Now, I am not just plugging a friend, I was in the store to pick up garlic knockers and ham chunks, went to the deli counter for potato salad, was asked if I had tried Lori's homemade salad, I said no - they spooned out a sample, I was forever hooked.

This Is The Text That Belongs With The Photo Below ..

2007-11-24T07:13:00.000-05:00

Oh it is there -- but I was clicking buttons (or something) and made it invisible. Can't uninvisible it either (and I have tried). Sigh.

Best part of Thanksgiving? Left-overs. Left-over mashed sweet potatoes and cranberry / orange sauce. Pretty. And the two compliment each other taste-wise. Other than that, thinking about yesterday's two meals, the color of almost everything else was some form of beige. Turkey, gravy, potatoes, dressing a neutral palette if not neutral in taste.
Anyway. Sister J and I chatted on Wednesday evening. The conversation wandered here and there and one of the things she asked about was if I had done an audio entry from the grocery store while I did my shopping for Thanksgiving dinner. I didn't, mostly because I picked-up a thing or two every time I went shopping for the last month or so.
Why am I rambling?
Twinkie tiramisu. In my conversation with sister J. she mentioned that she was making and taking to her holiday feast tiramisu made using Twinkies instead of the sponge cake base. Somehow, I got the idea that it was a recipe associated with Disney, somehow. Possibly, it was just that I know my sis is the bigest Disney geek that ever lived and my brain just automatically attached the two ideas. Maybe. Regardless, It sounded really good. Really really good. I haven't eaten a Twinkie in years, I believe that they are going to be on the menu in the near future.
Recipe here once I pry it out of sister J.

Something Other Than Beige ...

2007-11-23T19:00:00.000-05:00

Best part of Thanksgiving? Left-overs. Left-over mashed sweet potatoes and cranberry / orange sauce. Pretty. And the two compliment each other taste-wise. Other than that, thinking about yesterday's two meals, the color of almost everything else was some form of beige. Turkey, gravy, potatoes, dressing a neutral palette if not neutral in taste.

Anyway. Sister J and I chatted on Wednesday evening. The conversation wandered here and there and one of the things she asked about was if I had done an audio entry from the grocery store while I did my shopping for Thanksgiving dinner. I didn't, mostly because I picked-up a thing or two every time I went shopping for the last month or so.

Why am I rambling?

Twinkie tiramisu. In my conversation with sister J. she mentioned that she was making and taking to her holiday feast tiramisu made using Twinkies instead of the sponge cake base. Somehow, I got the idea that it was a recipe associated with Disney, somehow. Possibly, it was just that I know my sis is the bigest Disney geek that ever lived and my brain just automatically attached the two ideas. Maybe. Regardless, It sounded really good. Really really good. I haven't eaten a Twinkie in years, I believe that they are going to be on the menu in the near future.

Recipe here once I pry it out of sister J.

Thank -- Full

2007-11-22T22:35:00.000-05:00

Today I am thankful for two wonderful meals, one at Aunt G's one here. Tomorrow I am going to ... I was going to say something about regret, but yanno, I won't. Because every single calorie was worth it.

That and for the first year ever, I did not burn the bottoms of brown and serve rolls. How did I manage that? I didn't buy any. That way I couldn't try to brown them, then burn them, then throw them away. One Thanksgiving tradition gone!

I did not make green bean casserole either. I made it last year, no one ate it, I threw that out too. So ex-nay on the green bean casserole too.

I forgot the black olives! This, I just remembered.

I discovered that cranberry relish is much better if a couple of spoonfuls of orange marmalade are added with the water and sugar, before adding the fresh cranberries.

I ate too much today. Tomorrow I will start decorating for Christmas.

Hearing Voices

2007-11-11T19:03:00.000-05:00

Had to work yesterday. All day. Out in the wind. It Was a beautiful day though, for November, especially for November. But my whole day was climb into the backhoe, load the dry floater (similar but not quite the same as my ag-gator) six or seven scoops. Out of the backhoe, into the floater, PTO engaged, first gear, floor it, turn on the chain drive, bounce over the field until the floater is empty, drive back to the loading spot, out of the floater, into the backhoe ...

Over and over and over again. Deadly dull, crazy making repetition, then came distraction in the form of a voice. Now I don't usually hear voices (except for Fabiola's -- but I have gotten good at ignoring her - mostly), back to the voices that I usually don't hear. Never hear in fact. Except today.

It could have been the voice of an angel, one sent to motivate and cheer. That voice could have been a child angel, at least at first. The angelic motivation started as a low whispered - zoom zoom. But then the angelic child was joined, at first by a single male voice; deep, resonant then! Oh Glory! An entire holy host of voices started singing a song of joy!

zoom zoom zoom,

zoom zoom zoom zoom!

Come-on people! Sing it with me! You know the tune!

zoom zoom zoom, zoom zoom zoom zoom!

Ok, I wasn't hearing voices, it wasn't angels. It was a Mazda car commercial. But that choir of voices singing! Strange but true, a commercial got me through an otherwise deadly dull day.

I love that commercial. The car pictured is not flying down a highway, skidding sideways through parking lots, going airborn off of a ramp. That car is doing none of the ubiquitous, over done and ridiculous, dangerous, illegal, things that almost evey other car commercial shows (then warns you to NOT do in tiny print at the bottom of the screen).

That car is not even moving.

The singing, the idea! With this campaign from the first whispered zoom zoom to this last, glorious chorus of zoom zoom zoom Mazda has conveyed the idea that you can get the feeling of zoom zoom, without actually moving. Can I hear an Amen?

Christmas To Do List

2006-12-25T21:00:00.000-05:00

This List is saying on top until Christmas or I get everything done. It will expand with details and links, new posts will end-up below it, if you don't see anything new here scroll down for other posts.

1. Put Up and Christmas Tree.

1a. Decide on a Christmas Decorating Theme (before Fabiola does)

2. Decide how to decorate the Christmas tree.

3. Decorate the Christmas Tree.

4. Decide what you are going to do about Christmas Cards this year.

5. Make Christmas Cards, Put them in envelopes, address them, mail them.

6. Plan Christmas dinner for the 15 (or so) people that are going to show up.

7. Plan decorations for buffet and dining tables.

8. Plan linens for Buffet style dining.

9. Buy and wrap presents.

10. Shop for Christmas Dinner.

11. Juke box music -

12. Check light bulbs and programming in the games.

13. Christmas Tree skirt.

14. Clean the house top to bottom.

Total so far: $33.9

Something tells me that this list is bound to expand. Fabiola's Christmas To Do List always starts out shorter and stays that way because she just tries to add to mine.

Go to Fabiola's blog.

Teenage Crush (Weekend Assignment Post)

2005-02-10T06:48:00.000-05:00

This entry was based on a "Weekend Assignment" assigned by John Scalzi who writes an AOL blog ~~ By The Way

Weekend Assignments are usually posted on Thursday and are almost always a blast to write. Try one this week! You don't have to have an AOL journal to play along.

Anyway, this assignment from 2005 was to write about a teenage crush.

Teenage Crush:

I was dawdling my way to the post office yesterday, when a song playing on the radio whacked me upside the head and set me back 20 some years. She's A Bad Mama Jama was the theme song of my best friend at the time, Liz. She was perhaps the most fun person, and without a doubt the best dancer that I ever met. We lost touch ages ago, I know that she would find it screamingly funny to discover that I ended up on a farm. Wild how scanning through radio stations can change a day. I meant to write an entry about it yesterday, then didn't.

Karma via electrons, I was already back in the early eighties so making the mental leap of a decade (or so, shut-up!) to do the weekend assignment was not nearly as difficult as it might have been. Very first ever? Barry Manilow. I remember the songs and the way that he sang them. Alternately heartbreaking then laugh out loud funny, gotta love a man that can make you cry and laugh in one sitting. Play Time in New England back to back with Copacabana sometime, you don't need to do you? Time in New England took me away to the Copa Copacabana. Yep that's what I mean.

Oh, apologies to anyone that spends the rest of the day with Copacabana running through your head, that song is a sticker for sure.

Extra Credit: (DO I still have a teensy crush?)

There I was, sitting on my aging and really should be doing something other than watching Ali McBeal on TV hind end, when two bars into "It's a miracle" another of those weird take me back a couple of decades moments happened.

Barry, that voice, those magic fingers on piano keys time machine of a man sang and the years just fell off. (That those years landed all over the floor and I later felt compelled to pick them back up is not the point of this entry, but the way life is. Years left laying about the living room floor create disorder and what if some visitor stumbles over one of the more awkward ones?)

I was back to an age that ends in teen. I wish that I could say that I sprang from the couch and went for a three mile run, I didn't, but I felt that I could. Better than anti wrinkle cream and support hose that man and his music is. How could I not have a crush ... (again)?

It Is All About The Cheesecake!

2004-11-24T06:43:00.000-05:00

Note before you start -- this recipe makes 3 nine inch round cheesecakes.

Cheesecake freezes beautifully.

Crust
Preheat oven to 325 degrees
In medium sized bowl combine:
3 Cups all purpose flour
1/2 Cup sugar
1/2 Teaspoon baking powder
1/4 Teaspoon grated lemon peel (from real fresh lemons not the dried stuff in the jar)

Mix again until all ingredients are combined. You should be able to easily form a pliable ball from the dough with your hands.

Pliable like pie crust or play dough, not sticky.

If the dough seems stiff or wont form a ball - add water one tablespoon at a time until you can form a pliable ball.

Bake the crust in your preheated (you did preheat -- right?) oven for 10 minutes. You don't want the crust to brown, just set, it will finish browning when you bake the cheesecake.

Cheesecake
Remove your pans from the oven, set aside to cool. Turn the oven temperature up to 350 degrees.

In a very large bowl combine
9 eight ounce packages of softened cream cheese.
3 cups sugar
1/3 cup all purpose flour
1/2 tablespoon grated lemon peel
1/2 tablespoon vanilla

Mix -Mix - Mix

then add
7 eggs (I use extra large eggs -- but cheesecake is pretty forgiving so if you use large or jumbo it should not make a huge difference. If you use small eggs, you are on your own.)

3/4 cup 1/2 and 1/2

Mix until well combined. Pour cheesecake mixture into your prepared pans.

One nine inch cake should be cut into at least 16 slices.

Hunting Season

2004-11-20T05:55:00.000-05:00

God bless and protect from accidents all hunters taking to the woods this time of year.

And God help any that dare discharge a weapon on my farm without stopping by the house to tell me that they are out there.

A true story.

Several years ago this hunting season, a group of three fools took to our woods. Hunting deer or just looking for an excuse to get out of the house and waste ammunition they ended up here. As a rule that is not a problem, however, this time the fella's girls were here. The girls had just come inside the house and suddenly BLAM and ping ping ping deer shot is bouncing off the siding.

Oh Holy Hell.

It took me seconds to jump into the first pair of shoes that I hit but no time at all to start cursing them, their mothers and their mother's choice of footwear at the top of my lungs. Then I was OUT THAT DOOR at a dead run to collect a few trophies of my own. I was beyond livid.

Nosebleed mad and swearing to shock a sailor, I headed towards the fools that dared to discharge a firearm towards a house where children were present. By the time I turned the corner of the house they were at a dead run too. Had it not been for a several hundred foot head start I would have caught them. It is just as well that I didn't because they would have had to shoot me dead to keep me from strangling them.

Instead, swearing like a longshoreman and on a thirty degree day wearing a T-shirt, jeans and a pair of the fella's tennis shoes, I chased them through the woods until they were clear of the property line. I became something of a local legend, apparently.

Since that day, hunters ALWAYS let us know when the are there. Even if they are following a deer, a member of the group breaks off to stop at the house to let us know that they are on the property. That is best, I believe. It keeps everyone safe from accidental gunshot wounds and hearing swear words at a volume that should not be possible from a human female.

God bless and keep hunters this season, and remind them that firearms are ineffective against truly angry human females who know all the best swear words and how to use them.

Technology

2004-10-26T05:48:00.000-04:00

I have one of those fancy toothbrushes with a tiny battery powered motor that makes it vibrate, whir and spin. This morning, the technology failed. There I stood at the sink, toothpaste already on the brush no whirring, no spinning. Egad! I thought to myself, how am I going to brush my teeth? My toothbrush doesn't work!

I am going through the house today to take the batteries out of every household whatever that used to work just fine without the aid of a tiny electric motor. I mean it.

Ok, THAT wasn't any fun

2004-10-14T22:31:00.000-04:00

The last several weeks I have spent a lot of time working out of town. No, not like that. Working. Twelve hours of up and down the ladder on the floater, roaring Caterpillar engine, hooking and unhooking hoses, dust or mud, sometimes both and dogs. Out of town work means dogs. Mine.

Hold on! I am not one of THOSE crazy people (that I am one of another kind is not the subject of this entry). I travel with my two monsters only because they can't be left alone for three or four days at a time and the old guy doesn't deal well with being left in a kennel. The fact that the monsters are farm guard dogs means that they bark at all unusual noises which means that when I travel with two large dogs when I work out of town motels stays are out and the comforts of the fella's sleeper on his semi are in. Yow. I do shower at the motel and grab take out for dinner but ... (sigh).

The drive home at the end of the job is the worst. My neon, after spending several days out in a field is dusty and covered with dog paw prints. There I am driving, tired and disheveled, pup in the front passenger seat, buddy in the back, both of them sitting up looking forward while they ride (you would think that they would have the decency to act like dogs and hang out the windows). Nope, they act like passengers, human passengers. People glance over as they pass, and get "the look" on their faces. Crazy dog lady alert! That is fair I suppose, at those moments I, AM crazy dog lady. Sigh, at least the dogs don't talk to me while we ride. Well, sometimes they do, but I ignore them.

By the way this entry was not a plea for sympathy, honest, I see the humor in the situation and frankly, the dogs say that it serves me right.

Locomotives run straight unless the rail says otherwise

2004-09-13T20:59:00.000-04:00

Locomotives by their nature are inclined to run straight, the rail has the job of convincing them otherwise.

I spent this weekend volunteering with a wonderful group of people who get together to demonstrate the magic of steam power to kids and adults alike. Northwest Ohio Railroad Preservation put its the annual "Tracks to the Past" show. (Check out the link in my favorite places!!!!)

They run a real quarter scale steam train.

Children are fascinated by the little Locomotive. Their first question is invariably "where do you put in the gas"? The answer -- no gas, just coal and water, leads to a look of wonder followed by a series of questions that, so far, have always ended up with something along the lines of "oh cool"!

Children are amazing. Engine 901 is amazing. While it pulls passenger cars that are comfortable for adults, the loco itself is small enough for a child to wrap his or her imagination around. Steam power, kids get it. Oh cool!

I started with the fact that Locomotives want to run in a straight line. Steering. I have a baby railroad in my "back yard." Bigger than the quarter scale train but run by either diesel or gas. We collect Industrial Switcher Engines which were used in manufacturing to move raw material in and product out of factories. That is the hook for me with our railroad. Our small attempt to preserve a mostly ignored part of American manufacturing history.

I like the idea that we have taken a machine that some average working Joe spent years running and caring for and probably thought that was rotting away in a junkyard, gave that machine some rework and a shiny coat of paint and put it back to work giving the occasional joy ride and a quick lesson in our manufacturing history. My "oh, cool"! Telling our guests who made our locos, where they worked, what they did and who ran them, if I know.

Back to the beginning, the hardest part for me of learning to run our locos was getting over wanting to steer. No steering wheel in a locomotive, and the locomotive is designed to run straight, so the rail takes over. No steering, one less thing to do while I operate the throttle and brakes on a machine that with every trip pays tribute to the average Joe from somewhere in the past moving American goods in and out of a factory. Oh, cool!

The Easter Cake (A More Or Less True Story)

2004-09-10T20:18:00.000-04:00

In the universe of stickum, the adhesive potential of flour, eggs, butter and cocoa has been woefully overlooked, I believe. A family story.

I was too young to remember when the stickum originally stuck, my two older sisters were there and claim to remember. The story started as theirs but, it has been told and laughed over so many times that it doesn't matter if the details are exactly right. The remembering and laughing is the point.

My mother somehow acquired an aluminum cake mold in the shape of a lamb. Once an unusual piece of bakeware arrives in a home an obligation to use it develops. It is some sort of domestic mojo. I was once burdened with a simple circular Jell-O mold. It was not long before I felt compelled to start combining ingredients, colors and garnish in an extravaganza of chilled rococo creativity. I knew that it was time to throw the thing out or enter a 12 step program when I attempted to faithfully recreate a DeLarobia Fruit Wreath using marzipan and lime Jell-O.

Anyway.

Despite four young children to watch over, my Mother managed to mix, bake and unmold the two halves of the cake (front and back, in the event that you have never seen this particular mold). Standing the two halves together and securing them with frosting proved to be my mother's undoing. The two halves sagged, they fell over, the lamb's head came loose and a reattach was attempted (the story goes) so instead of a spring lamb resting in the grass after a frolic, the cake resembled a lamb lying on the slaughterhouse floor.

Doesn't that look awful" said sister number one. Sister number one was no more than five years old at the time and had learned that phrase from my mother so she was not to blame for the results of the use of one of my Mother's pet phrases at a truly inopportune time. As my mother gazed upon the lamb carcass cake the inescapable truth of those words must have struck like a spring thunderstorm.

Agreeing with sister number one, my mother repeated "doesn't that look awful" and suddenly swept the whole mess up into the air and onto the ceiling.

Some of that cake never came back down.

We moved from that house when I was eight. As the last box was loaded into the moving van and the entire family tumbled into the car headed for a new home in a different city, one small piece of that cake remained on the ceiling.

There are things once stuck that can never be unstuck and although left behind are never forgotten.

Goodbye Summer!

2004-09-05T20:10:00.000-04:00

Time to put away the white shoes and the beach towels. Pack up the cannoe and the sailboat. Out come the sweaters with the smell of cedar clinging. Another summer waves goodbye.

Tile Grout Day

2004-09-05T20:04:00.000-04:00

Yesterday was the beginning of that thrilling month long event that I like to refer to as ... oh, wait, I can't say that here. Fall cleaning. Of course, that is what I call it. ::smile:: Now before any of you get upset, Fall cleaning is not in addition to Spring cleaning. In fact, Fall cleaning is what happens when I put off real Spring cleaning for so long that I have to add the task of sweeping brightly colored leaves out of the garage to my list. I know, I know -- just embarrassing. Oh and for the previously mentioned task, I don't use a broom, I use a leaf blower. But I was going to talk about grout. Yes, I really do use a leaf blower to "sweep" the garage. I would use it in the house too if I thought that I could get away with it. Grout.

Tile, real floor tile, requires grout. Grout lines are inevitably lower than the surface of the tile. Dirt descends, grabs a hold, then sticks until forced to move. Oh! My floors are clean! Ewww! The thought! Contrarywise, grout even with a twice daily assault by stiff broom and a washing at least two or three times a week gets grimy looking after a while. It is then that I drag out the heavy equipment. ::Dramatic pause:: The floor scrubber

and a ::gasp:: scrub brush. Floor scrubber? Yep. My grandmother used to have one, I thought that they had become extinct. But no! Hallelujah! Floor scrubbers can still be purchased. After we built the house and made the decision to put in real tile (which was the only flooring that stood any chance of taking the traffic that goes through the kitchen and bathrooms), I realized that I needed one.

I just spent several hundred words talking about scrubbing grout. Sigh. Yesterday I spent most of the day scrubbing grout lines. Today, I believe, is polishing cabinets and hardware. Wait 'till I tell you about that!

2004-09-03T20:04:00.000-04:00

Dream two nights ago. Picture above, no real story to go with it, the above is pretty much it. Told ya this journal was going to be a collection of completely random thoughts and observations. And I guess now images that appear in dreams. ;-)

Ode To An Ag-Gator

2004-08-28T12:00:00.000-04:00

I have one of those jobs that few even know IS a job. One that fewer want to hear about. Sludge Hauler. Yep, it is a job. A necessary occupation that combines some of the aspects of Farming and Trucking. Essentially, we move lime from water plants and ... uhhh, fertilizer -- from wastewater treatment plants and apply it to farm fields. These municipal services by-products benefit farmers as they do not then have to buy lime or nitrogen fertilizer for the fields that receive the application. I could go on and on -- but I won't, because I understand that folk's interest in this is limited.

I was going to talk about my Ag-Gator! Nope, not a star in a "B" horror flick, not some protected reptile from the swamps of the South, a really cool machine. My little baby floater. That is what I call it, but it is not little. The tires alone on my Ag-Gator are five and a half feet tall. Floatation tires are designed to reduce soil compaction in the field that the gator operates on. Design aside, the effect is to make it seem as if I am operating a vehicle with tires made of marshmallow. Bouncy, springy, fun! The ride makes me laugh!

Diesel Fumes and Dancecards

2004-08-22T21:20:00.000-04:00

Diesel Fumes and Dancecards

I intended to add a photo of Locomotive number 5 to this entry, but my computer has the program that can read the "big disc" for our digital camera (which is where the pictures of "old rusty" reside) and I am using the fella's computer to write a journal entry because my computer is riding around in the back of an ATV programming switches for the baby railroad. Never mind, really, just don't think about it. Heaven knows I am trying to do just that.

Why the silly animation then? That is one that I put together of our first engine, the Brookville, to represent the steps we went through to bring her from near scrap condition to where she is today. "Old Rusty" is in the very first steps of a similar but far more complicated process. So just pretend that the animation above shows all the sheet metal coming off (that could be done like and explosion -- wouldn't that be cool)? the engine being pulled and disassembled, and the smell of "blaster" wafting through the air.

*****Added Note**** My computer returned from the earlier adventure, so I replaced the animation of the Brookville with a photo of Loco number 5. The silly animation has been moved to

http://journals.aol.com/thisismary/ViewFromAFarmHouseWindow/entries/56

Did I read that there was a ball of some sort last night? Fancy dresses and music? Music and laughter? Conversation? Sigh. Just as well I heard after the fact, the smell of old rust and solvent hangs with a gal, even after a hot shower and a dousing in perfume. You don't even want to know what axle grease does to chiffon.

Heart's Desire

2004-08-20T14:26:00.000-04:00

Heart's Desire

"If I ever go looking for my heart's desire again, I won't look any further than my own backyard, because if it isn't there, I never really lost it to begin with." - Dorothy to Glinda "The Wizard of Oz"

Ok, so it aint Thoreau. :: Shrugging:: My life has always been more whirlwind than walden anyway.

Heart's Desire. Looking around. Was Dorothy right in deciding that a lifetime in blue gingham and oxfords dull with Kansas farm dust should be the height of aspiration? Or is that part of human nature that tells us to go for the ruby slippers the greater dream?

Last Dance of Stardust

2004-08-10T19:00:00.000-04:00

I am going to stay awake tonight to watch for shooting stars. Have not done that in years. Been too busy being busy to loose sleep over the sight of stardust heading towards earth. Wonder why that is. How did an early start on accomplishing things of little importance end up on my schedule ahead of watching the last dance of stardust?

Sweet Corn Day

2004-08-08T17:25:00.000-04:00

Yesterday was the official yearly sweet corn day here. I believe that folk would lobby for this day to be at a minimum, a regional holiday, but the date changes every year and at that is subject to opinion, so how could an official date be set?

Sweet corn. Wonderful stuff. Cooked and served on the cob a messy but wondrous summer treat. Cooked, removed from the cob and frozen, tiny little kernels of preserved sunshine, ready to warm cold winter evenings. Corn on the cob is a delight any time that local grown corn is available during the growing season. Freezer corn is a different vegetable entirely. You may not know it (or even care) but there is sweet corn and there is sweet corn worth freezing. Sweet corn worth freezing cooks up and hold sweetness through chilling and reheating. Early season corn wont do that. Wait too long and starchy sets in. Freezer corn is sweet corn that has reached the summer peak. The only way to determine when those few days in a growing season occur is to cook local corn, chill it and reheat. If it tastes sweet on reheating, the corn is ready.

Yesterday was the day here. Nine AM and six bushels of corn were in the back of my truck headed home. Ten hours later all six bushels were shucked, cooked, taken off the cob, bagged and in the freezer. The counters were sticky and I was tired, but a year's supply of sweet corn like none you can get from a grocery freezer or out of a can was safely in my deep freeze.

How To Freeze Corn

Some preparation is absolutely necessary. You will need at least two friends. One to watch any childern that you, they and the third friend may have. Putting up sweet corn involves large pots of boiling water. Boiling water in the proximity of children is a very bad thing. Don't risk it. Friend number two is to help you shuck the corn and help you put it in bags to run to the freezer. If they mix a mean margarita, that is most helpful, but not necessary.

Start early in the morning. Buy sweet corn fresh from a LOCAL grower. Make sure that you get corn picked that morning. Find out the time that the corn arrives from the field, be there when the tractor arives. Buy your corn, put it in your car and speed home. I mean speed. Put the corn in the refrigerator (or in the event that you are buying large quantities, cold running well water).

Put fresh water in the biggest stock pot(s) that you own, me, I use two twenty four quart pots, but then I also have a commercial stove that kicks out btu's like you wouldn't believe. Oh, and a 24 quart pot full of water and corn weighs around 40 pounds, if you can't lift that kind of weight, bearing in mind that the contents will eventually be boiling water and hot corn, pick smaller pots.

Put the pot of fresh cold water on the stove on high heat. Wait for it to boil. While you are waiting for the water to boil, shuck the corn. When your water reaches a full boil, put the corn in the stock pot. Wait for the water to come to a full boil again. When it does, set your timer for eleven minutes. Not ten and one half minutes, not twelve minutes, eleven minutes exactly.

While the corn is cooking, prepare your chilling water. I use a big tub and fill it with running cold water and a bag of ice. At the end of the eleven minutes cooking time, take the stock pot off of the heat, dump the boiling water down the drain, dump the corn into the ice cold water. Wait for the corn to chill completely. Take the corn out of the cold water, cut it off of the cob as fast as you can, put the cut corn into plastic freezer bags and then run the corn to your deep freeze. Refill your stock pots with fresh cold water and start over.

Yes it is a lot of work. Yes it takes all day to put up enough corn for all year. Yes it is worth it. it.

Surprise Via Birds Nest

2004-04-15T19:24:00.000-04:00

Today, we switched the direction that our Loco's run on our track. That process while, unorthodox was uneventful. We don't have a turntable so the unorthodox part was stopping the locos at a point where our tracks are close to each other and lifting first one end and moving it to the "other" track then ... never mind, 15 tons of assorted but connected steel bits does not move easily or without something even bigger to move it. Wasn't my point. At all.

We fired up one of our older plymouths that hadn't moved in a while. Running right the engine sounds like a hive of very large bees, today, bees with a collective cold. Odd. As the loco started moving out, there was this wheezing gasp from the muffler followed by a sound that I imagine could be confused with a howitzer being fired ten feet away. I looked up in time to see the flaming remnants of a large bird's next shooting across the lot. Guess that some songbird decided that the old plymouth's muffler was a good place to start this year's family. Their nesting place has been relocated for next year.

People

2004-04-15T19:23:00.000-04:00

Rereading my journal tonight it seems that so far my entries have been a wandering hello, how are ya? Funny how the essentials surface before the incidental even if no particular conscious intention powers them.

I do that, wander. Rarely directly to the point, at least not here, here meaning online, reality isn't. But the people Much like 3-D life, people show the person that they want you to see. Unlike real life, the illusion does not require the maintenance of a wardrobe. That seems to be the major difference between "real" people and the ones met online, a costume change or two.

There are people important to me I will never meet. Doesn't matter. The conversation is every bit as vital as the ones where matching socks matter, just different. Some of them should have come before the kites and the trains even. Everything sorts itself out in the end.

Ghosts

2004-04-13T19:20:00.000-04:00

I work in a building that keeps within the bricks and mortar of its walls part of the history of the township in which I live. My office is a one-room red brick schoolhouse built in 1880 and in continuous use by the local school system until the 1926. After that, my schoolhouse was used as the meeting place for the farmer's grange until we bought it. Does it get better than that? Actually, yes, on at least one occasion, the schoolhouse stood witness to the wedding of a local couple in place of a church that once stood next door. Destroyed in a fire, the church was never replaced, but the graveyard behind where the church stood is still there.
The ghosts next door, if there are any lingering don't visit me. They are at peace I suppose. That or they realize that I am already haunted and therefore not much of a prospect. Haunts. How does a person rid oneself of ghosts? I tried, I did. Took a drive one early fall day to a place that I had never been invited but needed to see anyway. I though that would put my ghosts to rest. Instead I took away a vision of evening light dancing off a mysterious blue machine and rolling hills that reminded me of the place where I grew-up. Home, my ghost exorcising drive ended up reminding me of home. More ghosts, I have not been "home" in years and years and I am not likely to go back any time soon.
Maybe this is the place where I belong; living forever in a flat land between rolling hills and great rivers. Neighbor to a small resting-place where the residents know to leave me alone as I am haunted enough as it is.

Holy Water and A Wooden Boat

2004-02-27T19:16:00.000-05:00

Tonight was one of those magic nights. The electronic surf was perfect and washed up an online conversation to be marked in my memory. We talked about what it was that made us what we are today.

For my part, I spoke of holy water, the river that I grew up next to, a river worthy of both love and respect. Powerful water, the Mississippi. Where I lived, not so deep, but wide and fast. Anyone that has spent time with her claims her. But, she is a wonder and wild and will never really be owned by anyone. Navigated, yes, but not contained. She is not a tame river at all.

Time with "my river" was mostly spent in the safety of an old flat bottomed wooden house boat that my father named "Sunny". I always believed that he named her after the song of that name. Maybe instead, it was a wish for a certain forecast painted in golden letters and surrounded by rounded 70's vintage flowers that show up from time to time now, mostly on VW bugs.

The particulars of my boat on the river were that a barge maker named Fred Kahkie crafted her in 1945. She was powered by a straight eight Grey Marine engine that I can still hear rumble in my memory. Slow, she was slow but powerful enough to navigate the Mississippi against the current and in full flood.

Like so much that our parents give us, I did not realize that spending time in the safety of that hand crafted wooden boat on one of the great rivers of the world was something that few people experience. The family got older, "Sunny" was sold, and I have not stood on the shores of "my river" in almost 15 years. I remember. I hope that my "Sunny" is still navigating powerful waters with a Captain at the wheel that loves her as my father did.

2004-02-26T18:04:00.000-05:00

The Law of Unintended Consiquences Is Alive and Well ...

And parked in my back yard.

Around here we have work which goes on full time, year round, then there are "projects" special little slices of hell that happen in addition to "work" and always result in something wonderful but the journey to wonderful is all uphill, mostly in a torrential downpour.

This uphill journey in the rain was my fault entirely. The fella was spending too much time on the couch watching reruns of "The Andy Griffith Show. Not like him at all. I suggested a hobby. Out of my mouth came the words "You have always liked trains, haven't you?" What was I thinking? I was picturing a HO scale train set in the basement utility room. I could help make dear little trees and houses and... I should have thought this one through before speaking, because I know that the fella never does anything small. Never. Dear little trees, HA!

Within a month, there was a 12-ton Switcher Engine being rebuilt in the shop and I was spending most evenings in the woods running a bobcat while the fella worked the backhoe, building a path for his train-set. Less than a year later we had cleared, graded, laid stone, ties and rail through two thirds of a mile of woods. We restored the original switcher locomotive, built a hopper car, picked up three more homeless locos in need of attention, and rebuilt a passenger coach. Wonderful. Just not exactly what I was thinking when I suggested the fella needed a hobby.

Moral of this story? If you think that your fella is spending too much time watching T.V., let semi-conscious couch potatoes lie because if you suggest that he do something to keep himself busy, you might just get what you asked for and he will take you with him on the ride.

http://hometown.aol.com/alvadatwofooter/

2004-02-24T02:28:00.000-05:00

I am at the age where the calendar pages flip over a great deal faster than is seemly for an object marking largish chunks of time. Anymore, time barely has opportunity to make a mark before that page is gone and I am confronted with yet another set of orderly squares representing a new twelfth part of a year. Gone, time has just gone, whole days, weeks...

I have always been best at waiting. "Patience is a virtue," my Mother told me. As a child, I realized that patience was the only virtue that I had any real shot at -- so I worked on developing the skill of waiting. It seems to me now that in pursuit of the virtue of patience I have invested more time in waiting than in doing anything else. Patient waiting does have benefits, dreams. Dreams can be embroidered while developing patience. No one has to know. I have dozens of dreams decorated from top to bottom. Some of them I had time to rework three, maybe four times. All accomplished while appearing to be patiently waiting. Thing is, life continues at a breakneck pace no matter what you do and there is no slowing it down. I discovered that people changed, their lives changed, while I sat there and practiced patience and embroidered dreams.

Is patience a virtue? I wonder now. There is nothing to be done about events marked on calendar pages long turned. When dealing with time and people, changes can be revisited but never redone. Perhaps in the future I will reserve the virtue of patience for long lines at the DMV and the grocery. From now on, when dealing with people, life, and calendar pages, I believe I will be utilizing less virtuous methods. My mother told me "patience is a virtue; good things come to those that wait." Then she also told me "no matter what, always be a lady.

How On Earth Does He Know That?

2004-02-23T00:30:00.000-05:00

How on earth does he know that?

The fella went round the corner this morning [not to be confused with round the bend which would have been one of those things that just happen as opposed to a deliberate act -- oddly the initial results were similar but of shorter duration]. The purpose of his foray was to ask the neighboring farmer if he wouldn't mind if while we were cleaning up in our back woods we cleared a deadfall that may or may not be on the other side of our line. Around here even if you are pretty sure that you aren't crossing a property line and even if what you are doing is clearing rotting deadfall you check with the neighbor man. Before you start.

Nice man the neighbor is. Farmer all of his life. He has a sun-glazed color year round and deep creases around his eyes from too many hours of studying rows of crops for whatever reasons that farmers have. This was not my point or the cause of the consternation. Farmer neighbor told the fella that he would not be surprised at all if the frost came out of the ground for good this weekend. Do not know how he knows that as he didnt say, farmer wisdom or wishful thinking. Either which way, that news kicked the fella into a paroxysm of list creating. Rather, he barked out the list of things that must be done before we become completely awash in mud and I wrote as fast as I could. Most of the items on the lists will not be done before this weekend and it will not matter much if they are not. Still the mission of the list making was urgent action, and that does not change the climate around here, just the forecast, if you know what I mean. Still I wrote in wonderment. The Fellas inspiration had to be the pronouncement of an imminent change of season from the ranking farmer in the neighborhood. What I wondered as I wrote was, how did the neighbor guy know? Did he know? That remains to be seen.

2004-02-22T22:33:00.000-05:00

Didn't go fly a kite ...

The front field of a farm in Northwestern Ohio

The weather forecast promised 40 degrees, partly cloudy skies and a breeze of 5-10 mph. Partial sun, check, 37 degrees (in February? I'll take it), the breeze, when I checked at two, rated a steady reading of 11 mph. So, loaded down with three dragon kites [2 - 50 foot and one 25], a tiny nylon airplane, four spools of kite string and two mixed breed dogs. Oh, "Puppy" and "Cowhead, thanks for asking! I scampered out to the front field to play. Unfurling, laying out the kites and hooking up tethers took exactly the same amount of time as was required for the breeze to die completely and for the two dogs to discover a nest of field mice in some tall grass.

In retrospect, combining 125 ft of brightly colored nylon spread out on a wet field, a dozen or so terrified mice, and two large excitable dogs was not one of my better ideas. The dogs flushed the mice, the mice ran over and under the kites looking for a place to hide, the dogs followed the mice. Instead of my vision of beautiful kites dancing in the [almost] spring air, I ended up with a bedlam of yards of wet kite covered with muddy paw prints, three freshly deceased field mice and two very dirty but very happy dogs.

So, the adventure ended with hot baths for all parties (except the mice, dead or otherwise), and the reading of tomorrow's forecast which promises partly sunny skies and ...

How Much Meat to Buy?

1970-01-01T08:00:00.000-05:00

How Much Meat To Buy

Boneless Meat: Ground Beef, Ground Turkey, Stew Meat, Boneless Roasts or Steaks

Number of People divided by 4 (for a dinner) 6 (if you are making soup or stew as a main dish) will give you the number of pounds of meat to buy.

Meat With Some Bone: Steaks and Chops, Rib Roasts, Country Style Ribs, Bone-in Hams, Chicken Breasts, Turkey Breast

Number of People divided by 2 or 3 will give you the number of pounds of meat to buy.

Meat With Lots of Bone: Spareribs, Short Ribs, Hocks, Shanks, Whole Chicken or Turkey, Cut-Up Chicken or Turkey (except breast portions).

Number of People divided by 1 or 1.5 will give you the number of pounds of meat to buy.