Arrrgh!!!

I got a fair amount accomplished this week, and had some downtime, too, but I couldn't seem to make it to the computer.....

I've never felt the need for a hen party, until now. I just discovered a company in England (and another in Midwestern USA) that provides a butler in the buff for your hen parties.

Wouldn't it be lovely to have someone to open the door for you, and to see to it that your friends had something to drink?? And the clean up.....what a deal! You wouldn't have to go around after the party picking up glasses and dessert plates!

I really need to pay closer attention to conversations.

Yesterday, DH's son and his wife came to visit, before she returns to Japan to teach English as a second language. In his hand was a very large Swedish Ivy plant.

It seems I must have volunteered to babysit the plant while she is away, but for the life of me, I don't remember the conversation!

DIL tells me that Son#3 has killed off several plants in the past few years. He waters once a week whether the plant needs it or not.

THIS was where I started paying attention. You see, by the time the plant got to me, it was wilting, so as she is talking to me, I have filled a large container with water and DOUSED the plant. Right.....I'm supposed to take care of this plant, and see to it that its in condition to return to her.

I could be in trouble.

We made it to the Farmer's Market! YEAH!!!!

It was wonderful to be back. I really missed the crowds and the great veggies and fruits for sale. The one thing I mind is that they have banned dogs from the area. It used to be a lot of fun to see all the dogs parading through the people.

Usually I go early in the morning. I'd rather get there before the crowd is quite so large, and have first pick of the veggies. It's also easier to get a place to part at 7:30 in the morning, and then you can go on to breakfast, or to the rest of your day. This time, we had to make a stop at the pharmacy, and it doesn't open until 9:30, so we compromised and went about 9:00. MAN, was it busy!

Mother had her sewing scissors sharpened. I bought bi-color sweet corn for dinner tonight. Big, red, ripe tomatoes, green beans, a red pepper and a green pepper, pickle size cucumbers, four HUGE garlic bulbs (roasted garlic with feta on toasted French bread, anyone??), two egg plants, four bunches of flowers (asters, creamy yellow lilies and blue salvia), peaches, crimini mushrooms, wild Alaskan salmon and a cedar plank!

Yummmmmmmm.......gonna have some GOOD MEALS this week!

I will be barbequed by an angry dragon



How will you die? Take the Exotic Cause of Death Test

Stolen from billy.....who stole it from bogie.....etc.

I have to tell you....this sounds better than being impaled by a rod of frozen urine expelled from a jet liner....

If you've been reading my blog, you will know that my only cousin has passed away recently. Family and friends gathered for his wake and funeral, and it was a good send off. But, there's just one little thing that has bothered me.

My cousin was in the Navy, so when it came time for his burial, the Navy sent two men to do the flag ceremony. The ceremony is very touching, with the solemn attention to the folding of the flag, and the slow-motion salutes. At one point, one of the men bent over, hit a switch, and we heard a recorded performance of "Taps."

I suppose that no one else in the gathering gave it any thought, but I minded that Taps was not a live performance. I was a band director for eleven years. In my opnion, there are some places where a taped recording is inappropriate, and a funeral is one of them.

I've been pondering just how many trained musicians would be needed to play Taps in all the cemeteries where former members of our Armed Forces are being laid to rest. Although the Armed Forces have 500 buglers available, last year an average of 1800 veterans were buried each day. Arlington Cemetery is the only burial ground where taps is played live for every burial.

The Armed Forces felt that recorded music was inappropriate, and rather than supply trained musicians, they chose to purchase 4,000 "ceremonial bugles." The bugles have a computerized chip imbedded in the bell which plays Taps. Unfortunately, some of the men responsible for the use of the ceremonial bugles need to be instructed in how to hold a bugle.

In my surfing, I discovered that Tom Day, of Berwyn, Illinois, has founded "Bugles Across America" to recruit civilian musicians to play taps at funerals. Day has gathered 3,000 volunteers, who have performed at 36,000 funerals in the past three years.

This seems like a much better way to deal with the increased need for buglers. I'm sure the military has prioritzed their expenses and that some may see a bugler as an inappropriate use of their funds, but I think we need to honor those who served on our behalf. Surely the presence of a trained bugler to play their final Taps is not too much to ask.

I was reading over at Broad at Bat's blog today. Her entry for August 4th is very introspective. I had to make myself read all the way to the bottom.

I know that sounds bad, and it has nothing to do with the quality of her writing, and all to do with my ability to play "ostrich" about my own situation.

Being introspective gives me the willies. If I took the time to look into my heart, or my mind, I might actually figure out what drives me, and it that's GOT to be scary! On the other hand.....I'm getting to a point in life where it might not be a good idea to drag my feet on this.

The power of positive mental attitude. Who used to talk about that? Was it W. Clement Stone? I can't remember, but it seems to me that our physical health has got to start with a healthy mental attitude about life, and our place in life.

Somewhere, my healthy attitude has gotten set aside, or lost along the way. I'm willing to admit that I HATE exercising for the sake of exercise. Give me something to do that disguises the exercise, and I don't mind so much, but exercising because I know it's good for me sucks pond water! And yet, I know that's just what I have to get myself to do. So....WHY have I waited so long to embrace that issue? See, what I mean about introspection? Do I really want to know if I have a death wish, or if I'm just terminallly lazy?? Gives me the willies....

I've been reading a series of books by Janet Evanovich. The main character is Stephanie Plum, who has lost a job as a lingerie buyer and had to turn to her cousin for a job. Unfortunately, Cousin Vinnie is in bail bonds, and he hires Steph as bounty hunter. She's totally unprepared for the job in every way. She's bailed out by a cop and a fellow bounty hunter again and again. Between having her cars blown up, and loosing her man repeatedly, she shops for Tastykakes......in every flavor.....by the pound. As I read about her eating junk food, or going to her mother's for dinner (read: comfort food), one part of me nods in agreement. I can understand exactly how she feels. Another part of me is going....."DON'T EAT THAT!" I feel really schizophrenic, and Evanovich must have read my mind before she wrote several of the scenes.

Okay....you just saw a prime example of my ability to play ostrich. I neatly detoured off the subject of introspection, and put the focus on a fictional character, moving it away from myself. I've been doing that for too many years to count, and I think I've just hit the wall. Pardon me while I bang my head against it for a bit.

Do I want to be healthy? YES
Do I want to be healthy enough to eat appropriately? Well....yes....sorta.
WHY am I not running to embrace a healthy lifestyle. Okay....ya got me there.
I really don't know why, and I need to find out.

It's time to quit pretending that I'm Peter Pan, and accept that I am an adult. And....it's time to make adult choices. The question is.....where do I start?

I have a STACK of books waiting on me. More than I can read in August. I might have to save a few for this Fall, and I'm not complaining.

In the next entry, you'll see a comment about the Stephanie Plum series by Janet Evanovich. One of my on-line friends introducted me to these books, and I have gobbled them up! There are ten books at the moment. Each title has a number. The last was "Ten Big Ones."

Steph is a crazy character. If I had stumbled onto the first book when it first came out, and had to wait for each succesive book to be written, it would have been a terrible trial. My mother has been reading the books, too. As I finish one, I hand it over, and the discussion in the house has been along the lines of...."I wish she'd make up her mind whether it's going to be Ranger or Morelli!" (having to do with her obsession for two men) or "Don't tell me....I'd rather read the book!"

Evanovich has created two of the funniest characters I've ever read, Grandma Mazur and Sally Sweet. Grandma is a very modern lady who believes that NO one should ever have a closed casket wake (and is willing to go to great lengths to see the dearly departed). She is also likely to be in the midst of a discussion at the beauty parlor about personal firepower. I learned a lot about guns in these books! *G* Sally Sweet is a male musician who also happens to wear dresses, and drive a school bus.

You've got to read these. Go to the library, or visit Amazon. Share the books with everyone you know who reads. That's my summer tip for you.

Other books waiting for me:

"Kiss Me WHile I Sleep," by Linda Howard

"Angels and Demons," by Dan Brown

"Digital Fortress," by Dan Brown

"Crime Schoo,l" by Carol O'Connell

"Heaven, Texas," by Susan Elizabeth Phillips

"Nobody's Baby but Mine", by Susan Elizabeth Phillips

and "Sick Puppy," by Carl Hiaasen.

There are actually a couple of others, but I can't remember the titles, and I'll probably read these first. It's really too bad that I have to WEED! I could spend my days eating bon bons and reading. Now, go read the next post.

No, I havn't been off introspecting all this time. I seem to need some organization in my life, and I've been working on it in bits here and there.

It started with some work in the gardens. During the growing season there is work needed in the gardens on a daily basis. When I'm away and miss a string of those days, I have a lot of catching up to do. I've made a good start, but there's always more to do.

I have a cat named "Ed." Actually, he's been called "Edwina Scissorhands," and "Edward Scissorhands," but now he's just plain "Ed."

He's about 10-12 years old now. One winter he adopted us. It was bitterly cold outside, and he found his way into the garage. I saw him resting on the seat of the lawn mower. Of course, I asked DH to let him into the house, and his response was to bring a heater to the garage.

Well, the temperature dropped drastically outside, and the heater had to be moved to the attic to keep the pipes from freezing upstairs. Of course, without the heater, the garage was freezing, and that's when Ed managed to get into the house.

The rest is history.

He's needed a lot of loving lately. You have to give it to his specifications or he'll swipe a paw at you in irritation. He'll also swipe a paw at you if you quit before he's done. Right now, he's laying next to my elbow, with his head upside down. Give it a minute or two and I'll be able to look into his mouth when his lips flap open.

As much as I came to love Defer, I'll always be a cat person. I like their independence. There are two things that interest me about Ed. The first is that he is a creature of habit. He wants to be let out before sunrise, and he wants to be fed (for the first time) several hours later. We expect him to return to the house by two in the afternoon, and for the most part he obliges us. He comes to me for a snack at six in the evening, and a second snack at nine. Each time he expects to be stroked and loved up. Then, if I sit to read, and pull a quilt over my legs, he'll join me for a bit.

The second thing that interests me is how he's become more socialized over the years. Ed must have been someone's pet. I'm sure that he was abandonded after he had become accustomed to being touched by people because he loves to be stroked and scritched. But, when he first came to us, he was well on his way to becoming ferel. Our son worked with him, patiently offering a hand, a pat, some loving.....a bit at a time, until Ed was comfortable around him. Now, he expects us to "love him up," and that includes from the tip of the nose to the tip of the tail.

Each year he has sought us out more. If we are gathered in the living room, he's likely to check on us before finding a spot for a comfy nap. While he's still independent, it's as though he needs the reassurance that we are there. He's in and out a dozen times a day, ostensibly for a nibble, but more to make sure that we are there to do his bidding.

Right now, he's dead to the world. I can expect the snoring to start at any moment. He makes life look easy.

Pay close attention here. I'm only going to say this once:

The following two posts are prime examples of how I write when I have had about four hours of sleep and my head is practically falling onto the keyboard with the need for a nap.

Since I am still sleep deprived, it took me a few moments to determine just what was wrong.

Disregard the following posts, or if you can't do that, don't worry. I just need sleep!

Oh myyyyyyyyyyyy!!! We have just had a meal fit for a king, and it came out of our own kitchen!

If reading about incredible food makes you hungry, then do NOT read on! The rest of you....be prepared to drool! *G*

We feed the birds all year long. My mother enjoys watching the birds and animals that come to our feeders, and it's a simple enough thing for us to do. Filling the feeders is part of my early morning list of chores, and I enjoy the quick visit out of doors before I start my day.

I've been watching the fruits of my efforts. We have a clutch of tiny goldfinches who like the chipped sunflower hearts that I put into a dark green silo feeder. The brilliant goldy/yellow of the bird's feathers shows up elegantly against the green feeder. The little birds jostle for position as they wait their turn at the feeder, and when they have finished, they fly over and cling to the brick on the side of the house.

This morning, I watched a male downy woodpecker put himself into position to eat from the feeder. That's no mean feat, because the perches are meant for small birds, but a woodpecker can go just about anywhere he wishes!

Black capped chickadees have made their appearance. Can fall be far away?

I am here to tell you that you can't skip exercise for six weeks and then return, assuming that you could pick up where you left off.

I thought that my gardening would have kept me in shape, but I was wrong. My exercise guru manages to work more muscles than I do gardening, and I can feel every little one of them.

I'll just be over here.....applying Ben Gay.

Dear Husband and I were watching the Leherer Report on Chicago's PBS station, WTTW, this evening. When our troops went to Iraq, WTTW began showing pictures of the men and women who have been killed in the line of duty. They show them in silence, giving you enough time to read their name, rank, service, home town, and age. It's incredibly moving to see pictures of these young people, and think about the families they have left behind, and the lives that will never be lived. What an incredible loss.

We have it wrong..... We should be sending our old men to war, not our babies.

I've told you that I've been doing some summer reading. Most of the books are rather lightweight, and all are works of fiction. What totally amazes me is that two consecutive books mention the General Unified Theory (GUT), or the Theory of Everything.

When I was in high school, I missed out on physics and chemistry, so I have relatively little knowledge of those subjects. What little I've picked up comes from DH giving me information from "Scientific American" or "Discover" magazine, or watching science programs on TV.

So, I chose a book from the stack, and read Susan Elizabeth Phillips' "Nobody's Baby But Mine," and one of the main characters is a doctor of physics who is working on top quarks, in the hope that she can add to the General Unified Theory.

What astounded me was to find the GUT mentioned at the start of the very next book I chose to read! What are the chances that two "lightweight" books I chose for summer reading would cover such weighty issues? Dan Brown's "Angels and Demons" opens with Robert Langdon being flown to Geneva to visit the CERN facility. As the director of the facility leads him through the residential area, a jogger wearing a t-shirt that proclaims "NO GUT, NO GLORY!" runs by, and they are off on a conversation about the General Unified Theory.

So....will I find it mentioned in the NEXT book, too?

I was shopping for veggies the other day, and noticed a rack of magazines in the veggie department. What caught my eye was a new magazine from Better Homes and Gardens called "Diabetic Living." Apparently this was the premier issue.

It's wonderful! The first section held lifestyle tips, and information about managing diabetes. The second section was an incredible range of recipes, made over to fit a diabetic's needs.

We've found a LOT of recipes, on-line and in cookbooks, that work for Dear Husband, but I've never seen so many recipies in one place that I would be willing to try.

We picked up an eggplant at the Farmer's Market, and I have two recipes for chunky spagetti sauce that would accept cubed eggplant nicely. And better yet, half of each recipe could be frozen, so that on the days when I don't have the time to do an entire meal from scratch, I have most of a meal ready to go. That's a major issue...needing to be careful about what we eat, even when there isn't preparation time. I also like the idea of cooking once for two meals, just as a time saving device. One of those recipes was done in a crockpot, so that would save me even more time.

Where to I sign up to subscribe? Congratulations, BHG on your new mag!

One of my quilting magazines came in this week. That's always a time of great celebration. You take the magazine, your favorite beverage, and a quilt, and find a place to hibernate while you flip through it and get a sense of the contents. If you have enough time, you can read it from cover to cover.

This particular magazine has an ongoing column of tips offered by readers. There was one tip that was so very clever, I had to laugh.

THis woman wrote in, talking about orphan projects....those projects that you started with such good intention, but partway through the process you have abandoned them, never to finish. We all have them. Some of us have more of them than we'd care to admit. I have one or two. Well....maybe three.

At any rate, this woman had one of the best tips I'd ever heard. She directed the reader to box the orphan project up in a lovely box, complete with attractive tissue paper and wrapping, and a bow around the box. Then you were to write a loving note to your daughter, and attach it to the box and put the entire thing on a shelf in your closet.
Your daughter would find the box when you were gone, and know that you were thinking of her.

I told my mother to be sure that my SISTERS names were on the boxes.

The flu has hit here. I came down with it late Sunday night and am just getting over it now. Unfortunately, it's moved on to my Mother. We've been doing a lot of sleeping here, and sitting around bundled up in quilts.

Saturday, Dear Husband stayed home from the boat. We went to the Farmer's market at 7:30 to pick up shears and knives that had been sharpened for us, and then went on to haircuts.

We stopped at the meat market and chose enough items to carry us through the week. He wanted to try the cabbage rolls (they don't do much for me), and he plans to marinate kebob meat. We've already had parmesan/garlic chicken breasts and there's a rolled pork roast for a family gathering later this week.

We had breakfast before we returned home. I had some watering to do, and I worked on mail, and then we went to Dear Husband's FORTIETH high school reunion. I'm still marveling about that. How could 40 years have passed since high school?? I still feel about 30 in my mind, so I'm SURE 40 years couldn't have passed.... Well, actually, it hasn't been forty years for me, but it won't be long.

At any rate, one of his classmates invited everyone to her home, and about 60 people showed up. There was a lot of picture taking and sharing, and the meal was served about 3:30 under a tent. Picnic food: chicken, ribs, potato salad, beans, coleslaw, corn muffins, and a cake. We took soda pop and iced tea. A good time was had by most.

Last week, I ordered three cubic yards of cedar mulch. I found a place that had such a good price on delivery that I ordered a better grade of mulch than I would have origionally purchased. Sunday morning I started spreading the mulch. It will take a while because we are into some rainy weather. I was pleased to get two chrysanthemums planted and I worked on the mulch. There's something about finishing off weeding and mulching....it gives such a clean look to the beds.

I'd like to make a quick trip to the nursery, and pick up some daylilies. There's a spot that's been weeded that is just calling out for them! The strip where I planted ornamental grass and Joe Pye weed is coming along nicely. I'll need to put regular weed eating on my list of chores from now on, to keep that stretch looking nice.

So....I spent this morning in the office. It was a quiet way to recuperate from the flu and still get something done. Accounts Payable, Accounts Receivable, organizing the mail, paying taxes, cleaning off the desk...it all gave me a sense of accomplishment.

Maybe we all need some quiet time to organize our lives.

Perhaps you call it "dinner." I know there are regional differences in naming this meal, but I'm talking about the meal that is served at the end of the working day.

When I was a kid, it was possible for us all to gather for dinner at 5:30. Wednesday night church choir practice, or weeknight activities at school like band or play practice, football games, or dances all were scheduled late enough that you could have dinner with your family and then head off to evening activities.

We timed our clocks by Dad's return home, and knew how much time we had left until we were expected at the table. We had a formal dining room, and also a more casual kitchen table. On Sunday afternoon at 2:00 we always ate in the dining room. Breakfast, lunch and Saturday meals were usually in the kitchen. As my youngest sister grew, we ate in the dining room more and more.

We were not assigned seats at the table, but we always took the same seats. My Dad sat at the head of the table and Mother sat to his left. My brother, the only lefty, sat at the end of the table where his elbow wouldn't bother anyone. Dad served the meat and passed the plate to my mother, who added vegetables.

I think my brother might have been served first, because I've heard it said that my father rarely got to eat his own meal before my brother was ready for seconds. I don't know how much of that is the truth, but he WAS a growing boy. *G*

Dinner was the only time during the day that our family came together. There's a range of 19 years between my oldest sister and my youngest, so there were quite a variety of schedules to organize to accomplish that, but it was assumed that you would be at the table. We talked about what had happened during our day, and discussed the plans for the weekend.

This is on my mind lately because we have slipped into more casual dining. Frequently, I prepare a meal, everyone comes together to fill their plate, and then we all drift off to our own corners. We watch evening news or read books during the dinner hour, and there's no time for conversation.

One of my nieces is a single mother of two boys. They live within ten minutes of us, and one day I suggested that she and the boys should come to dinner. It became a standing invitation. When Tuesday rolls around, she calls to make sure we are "on" for the night, and arranges to bring a dessert.

While we are at the table, we talk about what's happened in our day. We encourage the boys to talk, and their mother prompts them to use "good" manners. The boys carry food to the table, and their mother occasionally helps with last minute food preparation. The boys get to see Dear Husband and me work together, and they get to know one of DH's sons. AND, they get to interact with their great grandmother.

When dinner is over, we get out the UNO cards and play three very fast and dirty hands of UNO. My mother takes no prisoners when playing cards, and always sits next to the older of the two boys. He is resigned to being handed every draw two, and draw four in the deck, and takes it with good grace. He's delighted when he has the chance to give back as good as he gets.

The sense of community that we have as a result of our time together is what dinner should be about. I want those boys to know us. I want them to see the give and take in adult relationships, and I want them to see that it's possible to have a pleasant time without resorting to TV or game boys.

I know that this family dinner is good for my mother, as well. At 87, she needs the contact with her family, too. So.....how is it that we have slipped away from the practice? Now that we don't have young ones in our midst, we seem to have lost track of the fact that everyone needs interraction. Perhaps we drifted away from the table to save me having more linens to wash.....or to save the extra dishes that had to be cleaned. Or maybe there was something special on TV that drew us, to start.

This is just one person's view, but I think we need to re-establish the old-fashioned dinner hour. We need a place where we can talk about what has happened during the day, to congratulate family members on their successes, and to help them when a problem arises. It's a great place to teach a kid civics or charitable activities. And it's a good way to keep up with what's happening in your children's lives.

It's time to return to the table for supper.

I rarely bake any longer.

In my twenties, I made bread from scratch. This was before the invention of bread machines. I baked an occasional cake, and made pies and cobblers. We have a refrigerated dough crescent roll that is served at every Thanksgiving dinner, and a pastry called "Sugar Crisp" that's made each Christmas. For a number of years, the women of my family have been invited to a day of baking cookies in December, to get ready for Christmas.

When my doctor suggested that I stop baking, I thought he was crazy. I kept on baking, but shared the fruits of my labors. Then....gradually, I started to cut back on my baking.

There are times, though, when I get a taste for a certain dessert, and carve out the time to make it from scratch. Last night, I cleaned the kitchen, put everything away, and then checked to see if I had the ingredients for carrot cake. I needed more oil. I decided to make a quick stop at the grocery store today, and pick up what I needed. I'd still have time to make the cake and cool it before dinner.

With the exception of needing two cups of grated carrots, the recipe is extreemely simple. Some time ago, I discovered that I could use my blender to chop the carrots, so that's what I did today. I think I must have dirtied every bowl in the kitchen, and several spoons and measuring cups. Why is that? I think there must be an axiom somewhere establishing a relationship between the number of dirtied dishes and how good something tastes.

By noon, I had the cake in the oven, and worked on dinner preparations while it baked. The house smelled wonderful with the scent of cinnamon filling the air.

When my timer went off, I did the cake test (piercing the cake with a toothpick to determine if the batter has been cooked thoroughly), and set the pan on a rack to cool. When it was cool, I used a knife to release the cake from the edges of the pan, turned the pan over and tapped the bottom to release the cake.

Two thirds......maybe three quarters.....of the cake came out of the pan.

I have one lightweight, metal, easy release bundt pan that will be in the recycling bin this evening.

It was incredibly frustrating to have put all that time and effort into making a special dessert and have it look like something that came through an urban war.

It tasted fine. We had carrot cake after dinner. BUT....I knew it wasn't what it should be, and it bothered me.

I think I have one more carrot cake in me, maybe more than one, but I won't be using that crappy pan, that's for darn sure. Sur la Table.....Crate and Barrel......Kitchen shops across Illinois....here I come, looking for the definitive Bundt pan.

Carrot Cake

2 cups sifted flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon soda
1 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 1/2 cups cooking oil
2 cups sugar
4 eggs
2 cups grated carrots
1/2 cup chopped pecans

Sift the flour once, add baking powder, soda, salt, cinnamon and sift the mixture into a mixing bowl. Add sugar, oil, eggs, and beat until blended. Add carrots and pecans. Pour into a greased, floured 10" tube or bundt pan. Bake at 325 degrees for 70 minutes. Cake test. Remove from oven, let stand ten minutes. REmove from pan and cool on a rack. Dust with 10X sugar. Serve with ice cream.

Thirty years later......
A number of years ago, a friend told me that I could substitute applesauce for part or all of the oil, and now, I do. And, should I never find the definitive Bundt pan, I will consider making this cake in a 13 x 9 cake pan. It will take some adjustment of cooking time, but it would be worth it.

If I could remember how this recipe came to me, I would give the creator credit for it. It seems that it has been in my family forever, and my personal copy was typed more than a quarter of a century ago. I equate this cake with comfort. My head, which is trained to read labels and think "Low-carb," simply has to give way now and then, so that my heart, and taste buds, can enjoy the comfort of food from my youth. Thank God that doesn't happen often! *G*

My mother is a member of the Empty Nesters group at her church. They are collecting items to send to our troops, and I wanted to share the list of items with you. It's amazing what little things can help make their stay more comfortable.

I need your help. I'd like to find sources who might be willing to donate some of these items, but I'm a total rooky at this. Are there stores who do NOT donate, and are there stores who would be likely to donate? Should I contact manufacturers rather than going to retail stores? What do I need to have with me, other than the list of goods needed, to make my pitch successful? I assume that I need to provide the name and address of the church, and a contact. What else should I provide to make my request a success?

I'd appreciate any assistance you can give me. This is a worthy cause.

We FINALLY got some rain! We've had gray days off and on for the past month, interspersed with gorgeous sunny ones, and NO RAIN! We got the gray skies, but all the storms have gone north or south of us.

So, last night about 2:00 there was a great crashing and flashing around us, and there be rain! We needed it. I've been putting down mulch, and I had to water first because the ground was drying up.

I'll have to walk the grounds to see if we lost any trees last night. The storm came through fairly fast and furious.

And, in the dark, my first thought was.."I need to check on Defer." Of course, he's gone, but for the last fifteen years I had a dog who hid from lightening. His favorite place as a pup was under my computer desk, and in his later years, he chose our bedroom. I'm glad he's spared the storms now.

So....this weekend....more mulching! I know that most of you consider that drudgery...but I'll take it over sailing any day! *G*

It's a gray rainy day, today. I've had the pleasure of working at my sewing machine. I've answered e-mail and lazed through the day.

I was standing at the kitchen sink, and I could see the pile of cedar mulch waiting for me. I noticed it looked a little worse for wear.

As I watched two chipmunks and a grey squirrel made their way over the pile, and burrowed in, apparently leaving stashes for the winter.

Won't THEY be surprised when they come back.

Hmmmmmm....maybe I will be too, once that mulch is spread! *G*

I don't care for the term EX-husband. I have one of them, and I prefer to refer to him as my "former" husband. I guess that makes DH the "latter' husband. I supposed I could call Mr. Former "the JERK," but I've tried to play nice in public.

Anyway, today I was thinking about the fact that I have EX-relatives. My brother and his FORMER wife divorced, and it put me in a difficult position. I like the woman he was married to, the mother of his children, and I like the woman he IS married to. It's very difficult to know just what to do about it.

I tried to keep in touch with his former wife, and found that was uncomfortable. I wondered if she felt I was a reminder of all that had happened, and it occured to me that perhaps I was hurting her by keeping in touch.

And, my present sister-in-law may see my relationship to the former Mrs. as being a slap in the face.

What to do....what to do? Are we supposed to close ranks and support our siblings, no matter what they do? Does that mean we cease recognizing the parent of our nieces and nephews?

I wonder if Emily Post has written about this. Perhaps I need to surf on "Divorce Manners."

I have to admit, when my former husband kept in touch with one of my sisters, it really ticked me off at first. Then I realized it was probably a good idea to have a conduit, and I worked at letting the matter drop. I wonder if I put my siblings in the same position I'm in now?

Duh....

Never let it be said that I think on my feet....

Dear Husband is staying overnight on the boat tonight. There are some joys to being a boat widow. This list may not do anything for you, but it's made my day!

1. I slept late this morning.

2. I spent most of my day working on a quilt top.

3. I got to touch the remote control.

4. I didn’t have to cook a big dinner.

5. I watched "Don Juan De Marco."

6. I can sew as late as I like without disturbing DH.

7. I have a quilt top laid out on the floor, and it's not in anybody's way.

8. I may go out to breakfast in the morning, go to a quilt show, and stop by the nursery tomorrow to pick up day lilies, and still have some time to do some mulching.

9. No cooking.

10. No cleaning up.

HURRAY!! NO COOKING OR CLEANING!!!

Everybody needs a relaxed day like this now and then!

I was visiting over at Bogie's and found this quiz. I really think that I may be a long lost member of her extended family. She and I came up with the same results!

Take the quiz: "Which Random Irish Gaelic Phrase Are You? "

Ta mo bhriste tri thine
Ta mo bhriste tri thine - 'My trousers are on fire.'You're a few bricks short of a load, aren't you? You're probably not allowed to use sharp objects and you should be locked in a rubber room. With Rubber rats. Rubber rats? I hate rubber rats. They drive me crazy. Crazy? I was crazy once. They put me in a rubber room. With rubber rats. Rubber rats? I hate rubber rats...

Of course, once you read what she had to say about it, you'll be shaking your head, wondering why I would want to identify with a crazy woman. (Could it be....her sense of humor???)

Isn't science amazing!? There isn't a day that goes by where I don't read something new, from black holes and charming quarks, to astonishing information about how our body works, headlines on cloning, and new information on disease prevention.

We live in an amazing time. My grandfather had one foot in the horse and buggy era and the other planted firmly at a time when men rode rockets to orbit the earth. I can not remember a time when my family didn't have both television and radio bringing information into the house.

So, you can imagine my amazement at the latest breakthrough in technology. I was grocery shopping. I picked up carton of eggs, and lifted the lid to make sure none of them was cracked. On each egg was a line of red print saying "Use By Sept. 24."

That's just incredible! Scientists have tinkered with hens and found a way to get them to print out freshness dates when they lay eggs. They must be using nanotechnology to line the pigment up in the shell, but I can't figure out how they change the date. I guess I'll have to do some surfing. Maybe they have engineered it so that chickens have a computer chip passed on to them when they are just a yolk.

I bet the chickens are strutting around thinking, "It's Tuesday. We get extra grain on Tuesday." Or, "Four more weeks, and they'll let me out into the yard!"

I wonder if they try to warn the turkeys when Thanksgiving is coming, or if they keep it to themselves.

It's a great invention. Now we'll never have another stale egg again.

This is for Blue Witch, who enjoyed the carrot cake recipe. This time of year we have an overabundance of zucchini. Even one plant can provide enough zucchini for an entire neighborhood, so we're constantly trying to find ways to use them up, or share them.

This recipe for a zucchini tea bread is older than most of our children, and I make it at least once a year. I hope you enjoy it.

Zucchini Bread

1 3/4 cups all purpose flour
1 cup sugar
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon salt
3/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 cup salad oil
2 eggs, beaten
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 cups shredded zucchini
1 cup chopped walnuts

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. and grease and flour a 9 x 5 inch loaf pan.

In a large bowl, combine the first nine ingredients. Mix thoroughly. With a spoon, add the zucchini and walnuts, and spread the batter in the pan.

Bake 70 miunutes or until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. Cool the pan for 10 minutes on a wire rack, and then remove the loaf from the pan. Let cool completely. Wrap to store.

This year, because we are making an effort to cut calories and fat from our diet, I may try replacing the oil with applesauce. I'll let you know what happens