Christmas Cards

Is it just me or does anyone else find Hallmark cards overpriced and boring as sin?   In fact, the entire Hallmark shop here carries the most inane, boring crap at exorbitant prices.   I just returned from a trip there to buy Christmas cards for the grandkids.  One would think there would be at least one Christmas card for kids with a picture of a traditional looking Santa Claus there.  Wrong.  And why do the people who write the verses feel they have to refer to bodily functions to sell a Christmas card? I have not seen a Hallmark card I really like in years.   Because of physical problems which make it difficult for me to shop, I went ahead and purchased 7 cards for $41, and cursed myself for doing so.   I think I will start making my own cards, not because of the cost of cards, but because of the lack of quality found in so many store bought cards.  Hastings used to carry some good cards, but I haven't been there in a while.  I cannot stand the too loud music they play.  Perhaps I just do not like shopping. 

While on the subject of cards, I now refuse to send cards that have those little button batteries inside to any household with small children.  The damage those batteries do if swallowed is nightmarish.   I got along without the battery cards for more than six decades, so this is no sacrifice on my part, but does make a lot of sense.   I am surprised the cards do not come with warnings written on them.  

I think making my own cards would be an enjoyable endeavor.   Lots of quilters make them.  And I have an artist friend that sends me her own drawings in water colors and I treasure them.  And what parent would not rather have a card a child made all on his or her own, than a store bought card? The only problem with homemade cards is you have to start on New Year's Day in order to have enough to send out the following December.

 Of course, now days, e-cards are an alternative to paper cards. Some of them are really beautiful, and some really funny.  I enjoy most of them because at least my friends took the time to push the send button and send me one.   And they are fairly eco friendly if you do not count the electricity it takes to send them, or the plastic, etc. used to make the computers, and so on.


And I am sure our men and women in uniform, away from home, would appreciate any type of card.   I do think of them, especially at this season which is all about family and the longing for peace.    Any peace we have we owe to those who serve.  God bless them one and all, so say Tiny Tim and I.

Why I Hate to Cook

For many years of my married life, I cooked everything from scratch.  In fact, I was one of the last people I know to get a microwave.  This began to slowly change as the kids grew up and I worked full time outside the home.  Dependency on the microwave was the first step in my hating to cook.  I started with microwave popcorn.  Soon I was microwaving everything from left-overs which had initially been cooked the conventional way, to foods bought in microwavable containers and meant to be microwaved. How did I ever get along without the microwave oven?  By the time the kids had moved out of state and had their own families, I was cooking maybe three or four meals a week in the conventional (non-microwave) manner.

 As I got older and slower, I cut back on the standing for hours to prepare a meal to fixing whatever cooked fastest and dirtied the fewest dishes.   "Real" meals, those made from scratch, became fewer and farther between, usually only appearing on week-ends or when the grandkids visited during the summer.  I must add that my weight went up as the number of store bought microwavable meals increased.  Not only were they usually calorie laden, but neither did they satisfy my hunger for very long.  I began eating more between meals.

I finally have come to the point that I hate to cook anything from scratch and even some microwave dinners are a bother. We are lucky to get one made-from-scratch meal a week.

Now another reason I hate to cook is I hate the clean up.  A good meal to me is one that dirties as few dishes as possible, even though I do own a dishwasher.   Actually, I just cannot think about any part of the cooking process I enjoy. 

All this comes to mind today because of my adventure in the kitchen this morning.  DB and I had houseguests before and during the Thanksgiving holiday.  We stocked the refrigerator accordingly.  Thanksgiving was immediately followed by my getting a stomach bug that laid me up a few days, and then by DB coming down with it, necessitating his first ever trip to an emergency room to get treatment.  Meanwhile our refrigerator was full of foods neither of us could even consider eating.   So today I decided to cook to use up several of the items that needed to be used while still good.   I found a huge pile of fresh kale, phyllo dough, what I thought was a bottle of spicy sun ripened tomatoes, asiago and mozarella cheese, and two pounds of bacon.   Hmmmmmm.   These things, although bought for separate dishes, could all go into one dish, using them up without having to do a ton of cooking or clean up.  Perfect.

Everything started well.  I washed and steamed the kale and then squeezed all the water out of it.  I fried the bacon and drained the fat off it.   I grated the mozarella.  The asiago was already grated.   I drained and chopped the sun dried tomatoes and then rolled and buttered each layer of phyllo dough.  I mixed chopped kale, crumbled bacon, sun dried tomatoes, and a little egg together and began to fill phyllo dough until I had six nicely stuffed pastries.  Into the oven they went.  Because I clean as I go, I was pretty proud of how little clean up was left.  I turned from the oven to start final clean up when I saw the cheese still sitting on the counter!  Arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.  I immediately opened the oven and pulled out the hot baking stone loaded with pastries.  

If you have never tried to take apart buttered and rolled phyllo dough---don't start now.  It is impossible to do without destroying the pastry.   It took me two pastries to learn this.  So, back into the oven went the pastries sans cheese.   Darn. To top it off, the sun dried tomatoes were red bell peppers. I only noticed this as I eyed the bottle they came in now.  Oh well, I like peppers. Drat.  I spent over an hour making these things just to screw up.  I should have stayed in bed.

But, suddenly, the "Aha!" syndrome hit.  I had it.  I would put the cheese over the pastries after they baked and then pop them back into the oven to melt the cheese.  Hey, better than no cheese at all.
So, once the pastries were a rich golden brown, I did just that.  Meanwhile DB enters kitchen and says, "What is that smell?"  Now, by the tone of his voice and look on his face, I knew he did not mean this in a positive way.  "Lunch." was my curt reply.

"I'll just start with just one."  This meant he would start and end with one. I am mentally calculating how long it will take me to eat all these pastries left over.

So we sat down to our lunch.  Let's just say it was low cal.  While it was not bad, it probably will never appear on the menu again in any way, shape or form.  

Now, I still have mozarella, asiago, bacon, kale and phyllo dough in the refrigerator to be used, but now they are in a different form and in only one container and take up a lot less space.

This experience has convinced me that the only meals worth going to a lot of trouble to make are the ones made by someone else.   I would rather be quilting.

Reelin' and a-Rockin'

Photo of extensive damage done by the OK earthquakes.  Crews worked round the clock to repair damage.

Standing in the kitchen last night I heard what sounded like the roar of a train and then heard my dishes rattling in the cabinets.  DB came in breathlessly asking, "Did you feel that?"   Oklahoma has been experiencing earthquakes and aftershocks for the past couple days.  Well, we always have tremors, but these have been stronger and are beginning to catch our attention.  Fortunately, no one has been hurt and property damage has been minimal.   But the seismic activity has given me cause to reflect on how lucky we are regarding natural disasters compared to some others.  Yes, we live in tornado alley, but we also have the most advanced early warning system and tracking system in the entire world located right here in this wonderful state.  Plus we have a large underground shelter.  And tornadoes do not cover as wide an area as hurricanes, so that narrows the chances of getting hit by one.   We do not live on a major fault line, so we are not apt to get a catastrophic earthquake.   We do not live in tin shacks or weak structures like the Haitians or people of India or the Phillipines, so storms are not as apt to be as damaging.   So we can sit back and make jokes about our earthquakes, feeling pretty sure nothing too major will happen. Knock on wood.

All the tremors have brought to mind a lot of Oldies but Goodies...Carol King's "I Feel The Earth Move Under My Feet" ; Chuck Berry's "Reelin' and A-Rockin'";  Bill Haley and The Comets', "Shake, Rattle and Roll" are all apropros.  Do you think earthworms, moles and other underground critters are disturbed by earth tremors? 

If I have to be anywhere when a disaster strikes, I think Oklahoma would be just about the best place to be.  That is because Okies are fast to help their neighbors.  We are just naturally friendly and no one is too far removed from anyone else in the state.  When the Murrah building was bombed, most of us either knew someone directly involved or knew someone who knew some one who was there.  We are a generous and caring people for the most part and we tend to shine when disaster hits.

The down side to all this friendliness is when you meet someone here, usually their first question is "Where do you go to church?" or "Who you rootin' for--OU or OSU?"  Or other questions that many people from other states are taken aback by.   But after being here a while, you come to realize that these are well intended inquiries, not meant to invade your privacy but to find a common ground to build a friendly relationship on.   Texans are a lot like Okies that way.  It is too bad more Northerners are not so warm and friendly.  Yep, I want to be with Okies or Texans when the going gets rough.   I think a  lot of people in the southwest, those that were born here or who have been here a long time, share some of the pioneering spirit that the early settlers had.  Most people from the region take enormous pride in their state history and love living in the younger states.  I do not know, but I would think Alaskans and maybe Hawaiians have the same spirit. 

I love Oklahoma, the southwest and the United States of America!  We rock!  Especially in OK for the past couple days.

Coming up Soon

DB and I are in agreement (a rare occurrence) on the subject of teasers used by television news programs.  Before a commercial break, the newscaster will announce an upcoming story (a teaser). So the viewer sits, expecting the story to immediately follow the break, only to find himself still waiting when the next commercial break, with the same teaser, rolls around.  This pattern repeats itself several more times before the actual news story is aired--usually at the end of the program.   Because the government loves to burden us with too many laws and regulations, it should consider a regulation making it mandatory that once a teaser is announced at the start of a break, the story must at least be aired between the time the newscast has resumed and the next break.   This regulation makes a lot more sense than most others.

I am considering making a list of life's little irritations and this issue will be on the list.  As this list will be on the internet I do not have to worry about running out of paper or pen before this incredibly long list is completed.  Of course, this list is not as long as some other lists, such as my Honey Do list.  

Speaking of Honey Do lists, DB has been completing work in my sewing room which is now in what used to be the study, making it much more organized.   I love the pegboard for holding all my acrylic rulers.  Ruler organization has been a major challenge in my quilt world.  I love knowing I can just reach out and take the ruler I need off a peg rather than digging through piles of other rulers which take up valuable space needed for other purposes.  Also, DB has organized all the cords from the computer router and modem, my Bose speakers, the television and cable box, plus my sewing machines so that I no longer have to look at a huge tangle of wires or dodge them when on a roll with my rotary cutter.   I knew I did not make a mistake when marrying DB. 

One of life's pleasures is being married to a guy who is handy around the house!

Sex, Pedicure and Samuel Morse

I have a multitude of sleep issues which either prevent my dreaming or influence my dreams.  I have often thought I should write a book about my dreams.  However, some are better kept to myself, or shared only with DB.  Today, I fell asleep on the couch and had a really interesting dream.  The first part is X rated, but quickly changed into an adventure in espionage.  I dreamed my cousin (a blondish female of indeterminate age) was being held by the Russians behind German lines during WWII.  Who said this had to make sense?  Anyway, my job was to relay information between her and the Allies and arrange her escape.  I found a rather unique way of doing this.  At first I started by using thin orange lines of varying lengths painted on my toenails.  These lines were a code.  But I really started getting good results when I painted my toe nails bright blue with lemon yellow dots and dashes, representing  Morse Code.  I finally managed to get her out with the Soviets hot on our trail.  
I think there may be a use for this in the next James Bond film.  I doubt it has been done before.

9/11

With the tenth anniversary of the 9/11 attacks coming up, I have been  considering my fourteen year old grandson and thirteen year old granddaughter.  They have grown up under the shadow of the 9/11 bombings.  I remember at the time of the bombings, letting them know just enough to answer their questions about what was on the news, without letting them know so much they would be frightened or fixated on it.  After all, they were toddlers, but very bright for their ages.  And here it is ten years later and we are still dealing with this evil that is trying to poison the world.   I wonder how all this will color the children's lives.

 I grew up with the threat of nuclear attack, but that threat seemed rather remote, to be honest.  It had never happened in the USA, so it did not seem imminent.  I have read plenty about the sword of nuclear attack hanging over the heads of people of my generation and how it supposedly made us fearful, but I have never met anyone who felt that way. Even the air raid drills in grade school did not make us dwell long on the threat. That is not to say we did not realize there was a serious threat, and we paid a lot of attention to crises that might trigger an attack, but for the most part, it was not anything that had a deep conscious affect on our daily lives.  Of course, we did not have all the news coverage on television to keep the issue in front of us, that exists today. Also, we had leaders who were committed to preventing any such attack, so we could feel fairly secure. (One could argue their policies but we did not experience a nuclear attack.)

 I would like to think children are too immature to realize the full extent of the threat of terrorism.  But I know that children not only can perceive threats,  but can be traumatized by them even more than adults.  I hope that we can find a solution to today's terrorist threats (which, indeed, could include a nuclear disaster) and our children can concentrate on growing up safely in a saner world.  My guess is, however, there always will be some type of danger, other than the usual drug and violence issues (which are bad enough!), to deal with.  Seems where there is no evil, there is always someone to create it. You know the old political science theory about vacuums being filled.

I am ending this post now because I really want to go on  a political rant.  The reason I am not doing so is those who understand our situation, already agree with me and I would be preaching to the choir. Those who do not agree are too damned niave to understand.  You can substitute your choice of words for niave.

Light at the End of the Tunnel

When I started this project, I did not think that two weeks later I would still be switching the study and sewing room.  What I have discovered is that once items are taken out of their rightful places in closets and cabinets, they seem to take up about five times the space and are much more difficult to put away!  I always knew I had enough fabric to open my own store, and it did completely fill a walk-in closet, floor to ceiling, plus numerous plastic bins.  Seeing as how the study has the same size walk-in closet plus floor to ceiling cabinets, logically, most of that fabric, once moved to the study, should fit behind doors, thus eliminating the need for all those plastic bins.  That would leave me more floor space and I would not be all cramped up when quilting.  And the room would be neater (in theory, anyway).  And all the stuff that was in the study, which I had just recently gone through and whittled down, leaving empting shelves there, should not only fit into the sewing room closet, but there should be empty shelves left there also.  However, logic does not seem to work in this case.  I am pretty sure that the fabric overflow in the study closet is due to the difference in shelving configuration.  That being said, there are all the cabinets, so why am I having problems fitting all the fabric into the study?  Furthermore, there are more shelves in the sewing room closet than the study closet, so why don't I have even more empty space in there than I did when those items were in the study?  This is not too problematic though because once the dining room is prepped to become the new study, some of those items will be moved from the closet to the dining room.  Then that only begs the question, "Where the heck am I going to put all those dishes that were in the dining room???  I have one china service for 32, one for 16, one for four, plus a ton of odds and ends.   (The reason for all the china is I want to leave my daughters and granddaughters full sets when I go to the big quilting room in the sky.  I know they will love china that has to be washed and dried by hand rather than that cheap stuff you can toss into the electric dishwasher. Everytime they use it, they will think of me and smile.) Plus I still have not figured out what to do with the extra furniture.   Who said life after retirement was simple?

Normally, I would not find this a topic of conversation except to another fabricholic, who probably has had a similar experience at some point in her addiction.  However, because I live with DB who has no such addiction, or any addiction that takes up enormous living space, I feel guilty causing him to have to climb over, around and through tons of stuff to get to the computer.  This mess does not include the mess in the dining room, where I have emptied the contents of all sideboards, etc. in preparation for having new flooring installed.   I can hardly bear to walk through that room, but there is a small, clear path that allows me to be able to do so, if I want to.  That is not the case with the study or sewing room. So I guess, even more than my frustration with the mess is my feelings of guilt for keeping the house looking like a tornado has come through.   This guilt is made worse by the fact that DB has not complained even though I know he must be bothered by it.  Sometimes I wonder if he purposely keeps his mouth shut just to make me feel guilty.  He knows me well enough to know if he carped, I would not feel any need to rush getting this put away because I would be ticked off at him.  This way, I feel guilty and have a sense of urgency that the speed in which I get the job done belies.  Fortunately, DB has had a few distractions, such as stress at work, and Millie the Squirrel, to help keep him from focusing on my mess. 

Finally, though, I think I am near the end of the transfer of most items, leaving only the big pieces of furniture to move.  All I can say is, switching rooms better be worth it because I sure as heck am not going to switch back again.  That horse done left the barn.