I came across these housekeeping tips in my recipe box. I bet I have had this card for thirty years. I won't lie, I tried to do this list when I was first married.
Monday: Dust; vacuum downstairs; mop the kitchen
Tuesday: Change beds; wash
Wednesday: Dust, vacuum upstairs
Thursday: Mop kitchen; clean bathroom (my kitchen floor would be worn out)
Friday: Go over downstairs in case of company; wash.

All very organized. I wonder where I got this golden piece for a Susie Housewife?

Insight From the Dalai Lama.
May I become at all times, both now and forever
A protector for those without protection
A guide for those who have lost their way
A ship for those with oceans to cross
A bridge for those with rivers to cross
A sanctuary for those in danger
A lamp for those without light
A place of refuge for those who lack shelter
And a servant to all in need.

What more needs to be said? Have a great day.

My horoscope for today (thanks mamak) warns about problems using a new appliance, computer, or state-of-the art entertainment equipment. Alas, my household isn't that exciting. The only trouble I had today was trying to use the wine bottle opener. I never get the corkscrew in the middle and so end up having to turn and turn the handle until I get most of the cork on the end, then I reef it out. I did have fun with friends, sharing the bottle of wine. Big Fred labored on TRR's roof, mowed the yard, and then relaxed about 3:00. So much for Labor Day. I tried to finish the bedroom spackling project that I wanted to get done before school started. I'm 99% finished, but somehow nail holes keep appearing! Maybe tomorrow I'll get a new appliance or some such thing. ???

My fantasy job would be to travel with "Saveur" magazine. When I stopped at a yard sale today, I found a pile of free "Saveur" magazines. I had my 4:00 cup of coffee with cream beside me as I started to peruse the pages.

Ah yes, off to Providence, Rhode Island to experience the Italian-American neighborhood. I'd dine at the Old Canteen and start with the Shrimp Fra Diavolo (shrimp in spicy tomato sauce served over pasta) and end with Fancy Spumoni with Balsamic Syrup at Camille's. I'd learn to make potato gnocchies and bring home some sfogliatelle (crunchy shell-shaped pastries filled with sweetened ricotta) for Big Fred.

While heading East, I'd make a trip to France, to visit Chablis wine country. I'd sample wine from barrels in their wine cellars and taste their celebrated Raveneau Clos (Grand Cru) 1999 at $125 a bottle.

I'd jet back to the states and visit the Gioia Cheese Company in California and buy Vito Girardi's burrata. This is handmade mozzarella which is molded around curds and cream. It comes in 1 pound balls and is highly perishable, so we would have to make tomato sandwiches with it before e it went bad. If it is April, I could take in the Asparagus Festival in Stockton where folks eat more than 20,000 pounds of tender asparagus spears over three days. Wheeeew!

While in the festival mood, I could attend the National Corn Bread Festival in South Pittsburgh, Tennessee. I'd bring home a cast-iron skillet for NB, because this is the home of the leading American manufacturer of cast-iron skillets.

I'd be the Alton Brown (Food Network) of GT County. I'd have to learn all of those types of pastas-angel hair, bowtie, macaroni, twisties. I'd learn to sniff and swish wine. I'd eat pine nuts and pan fried sweet breads with chablis sauce. I'd...........I'd be fat!!!

And I've only read one magazine.

Rules for Survival, free advice that I have passed on to anyone who will listen. It has been helpful as I have moved from place to place. Use the 5 rule survival system when you move to a new town or city. It's a way to be proactive for yourself and your family.

Rule #1-find a Free Clinic (the missing rule).When Big Fred and I lived on the farm, we didn't have health insurance. In fact, we had to sell livestock to spring me from the hospital when NB was born. So, with a little child, and all of the baby shots, I went to the health clinic where the fee was minimal. Yes, I had to wait, but so did many other people. I have no qualms about getting health care in this fashion. Then when we moved from the country to the city, I looked for the free clinic- you know, women's issues, colds, fevers, and any other emergency. I even checked out the dental schools for lower rates. When you don't have insurance, the tendency is to home medicate, and sometimes, that can be disastrous. Rule #1 helps cut down on anxiety.

Rule # 2-find Goodwill, St. Vincent de Paul, Salvation Army, or other quality thrift shops. If money is an issue, and for most of us it is, thrift shopping is the way to go. Check out these stores for cleaning and household items-a mop, a broom, dish drainer, silverware, dishes, bathroom items. For a small amount of money, the house can be fashionably furnished. And families can have clothing galore. I usually stop at shoes unless they are brand new. With the savings, kids should get new shoes that fit their feet. School supplies,office supplies, toys, games, books, magazines, and music are all available. Here's a place that children can get that toy that costs a fortune. I have bought many beautiful gifts at these places. The good thing is that many of these stores now have a return policy so I don't have to spend the whole day trying on clothes. If you have the ready cash flow, kids clothes can be purchased and tried on at home at their leisure. Downside, most clothes have to be tried on and it takes time to look through everything. There is no reason for kids wearing raggy, too small clothes. And yes, a great place to find clothes for special occasions for kids who just grow out of fancy dresses and blazers. The fun is in the find and the bargain.

Rule # 3- find the public library. Wow, a whole world open and usually free. Books, games, magazines, puppets, puzzles, music, a copy machine and Internet access. Most libraries offer storytime, summer reading clubs, homework help, classes, art lectures, and adult reading groups. Of course, you need the non-possession philosophy. The idea of borrowing not owning is hard for some people. It eliminates stacks of once read magazines and overflowing bookshelves. It's a great place to socialize. When I lived on Mackinac Island, it was a lifesaver. When I lived in Howell, I volunteered to help with storytime. It was my first stop to find new friends for myself and NB. I'm a big library fan.

Rule#4- seek out the local event calendar. Many events are again, free. Music on the lawn, art openings, guided walks, travel lectures. Most every weekend has something going on that doesn't cost money. Maybe a little gas, but that's a given. Ride your bike, walk.

Rule#5. Find a place that is natural. Look for a park, a beach, a riverside, a garden. Try for someplace quiet. Hopefully, it's a place where the sun can shine through, maybe have some birds. We all need a place that brings us close to nature. We need to nurture our spiritual side.

So, 5 Rules for Survival. Advice given freely to anyone who will listen or read. Pass it on to your kids.

44 Scotland Street, by Alexander McCall Smith, is a fun read. The story is based on the colorful characters who live in a townhouse in Edinburgh, Scotland. It is about , Bertie, a 5 year old, who is his mother's "project", Pat, a twenty year old, who is trying to find her place and works at an art gallery, Domenica, their 6oish eccentric widow neighbor, and Bruce (Pat's flatmate) who mostly thinks about himself.

The story deals with friendship, intrigue, vanity, loneliness, and ordinary events in lives that intertwine. Smith gives a good picture of Edinburgh society and human nature.

This story was first published, chapter by chapter, in "The Scotsman" newspaper. The serial writing helps the book move along quickly. In fact, I found it helpful because I had chores to do, so I could easily keep up with the characters even with that " stop and start" type of reading.

I'm now reading Expresso Tales which is the next book in this series. Not too heavy, funny, the same characters, and a clever twist here and there. I got a really big kick out of Smith's No1 Ladies Detective Agency series. I'm enjoying this series, but I don't think it matches up to Ladies Detective Agency especially when it comes to humor. Still, it is a fun read.

Rise up, Moms. Rebel! I just finished reading the New York Times article titled "Back to School Fashion"http://shopping.aol.com/pages/Kids-Fashions/20209?ncid=AOLCOMMshopDYNLprim0001. It was informative and extremely sad. I usually don't rant ( I leave that to mamak), but the whole idea of fashion world marketing focus on under 9 year olds, is truly appalling.

We, women and men, have worked so hard to raise the status of women and children around the world. We had the Women's Rights Movement to bring equality in pay and opportunity in the workplace. It brought attention to issues such as sexual harrassment and sexual violence. We have Title 9, in schools, to give equal opportunity to girls in sports. We have women astronauts, women ambassadors, women in high government positions, women fighting in wars (God help them), and rising hopes for a female U.S. President. We got rid of smoking ads and billboards. All of this to help raise the self-esteem of girls to fight drug and alcohol addiction, to fight anorexia and bulimia, to fight wife and child abuse, to raise the health and worth of our children. And now, according to this article, girls need fashion and glam to "be". It says,"Kids from the very beginning are learning that your self worth depends on what you have and how the market evaluates you."

The article also mentions that fashion for the under 9 year old is not sexy but is provocative. So what is that suppose to mean.?!! Do you want your third grader looking provocative? Now, I'm not against cute clothes on children, fun nail polish and such, but I thought children (and adults) were to dress appropriately for the situation. Belly shirts use to mean that the little kid was growing out of their clothes and I loved My Little Kitty because it was so sweet. I thought when you let your child dress themselves and they came out in plaids and strips, you had them chose again. That was helping them become independent. Boy, am I naive!

The idea of little girls being a fashion replica of mommy is a step backward. We have battled the idea that children are just a small sized grown-up with grown-up expectations. Children have worked in the factories and fields for centuries- conceived for this purpose. Our society continues to devalue children and exploit them.

Even a Project Runway Barbie! I'm not saying that the adults have to stop watching this show. I'm not saying we have to stop liking attractive clothes. I'm saying, balance. Moms, do you want your little child to appear "provocative"? Am I just being an "old frump"? I'll see the "haves" and "have nots" when I go to school next week. :C

Rule #2 in survival advice is to find the Goodwill or thrift shops. Today I went to our local Goodwill and got great buys on ladies clothes. I found a pair of sage green slacks and a very nice black jacket for colder weather. I'm trying to upgrade my wardrobe, so I was very selective. I also bought some clothes that I think will be great for one of my friends. And they were really cheap. I glanced at the kid's clothes and there were racks and racks. I mean from baby to teens. I quickly went through the household items and finally bought a notebook for $.50. I don't need any kitchen stuff, so I put the treasures back that were in my cart- a blue glazed planter and a large oval wicker picnic basket. I cruised through the kid's toys- there was a ton. I passed up supplies that I could have used for school, but I really have enough and nothing caught my eye. I browsed through the books, but since Rule #3 in survival advice is to use the library, I didn't look too closely. Well, I got bargain entertainment, stuck to my budget, and perhaps helped a friend by being her personal shopper. Rule #2 in survival advice means that if you shop at thrift stores, you and your family can have very nice clothes, get toys, books, household items including furniture, at a reasonable price, and can be entertained to boot. It may not be the way to go for everyone, but it works for me.

I know you shouldn't get attached to things, but I love my house. So, here are 10+ things you need to know about my abode so maybe you'll understand my attachment.
1. The kitchen part of my house is hand-hewn cedar logs that are over 150 years old. (Photo is similar to the original 18x20 cabin).
2. My house has gone through numerous changes. Three generations of my family have lived in the log structure. My grandparents lived in it when they were first married. My dad tore the cabin down, moved it to the present site, and reassembled it. Many families lived in it after my parents moved to the big house next door. It stood empty for a number of years before we moved in.
2.5 The log part was completely gutted - renovation included a cement floor in the basement, stairs leading to the basement, a completely new wall and floor structure, a loft over the kitchen, and a new roof system. It's the kitchen and dining area.
3. The living room floor is southern yellow pine and the boards sat in the living room drying for about 2 years. The kitchen has cherry floors, but we couldn't afford that wood when we did the living room.
3.5. BF was not a carpenter when he added our living room and bedroom above.
4. At one time, we had two stairs going to the second floor: one in the kitchen and one in the living room. Before that we had a ladder that went straight up the wall into the bedroom upstairs.
5. My bathroom is glorious. The new room (the old one is another complete story) went through stages called the blue tarp wall, foil walls, and the pink stage (insulation). The two man sit tub went in first. Even though I thought it was extravagant, soaking in it is divine.
6. We recently put tile in the entry and only weeks ago put knobs and handles on the kitchen cupboards.
7. We burned wood for a long time and had two woodstoves. Big Fred wanted to put a cookstove in the kitchen which I agreed to if he could find a turquoise stove. Thankfully, he never found one. My first kitchen stove was my grandma's old electric stove. We still have a woodstove in the living room incase of bad winter weather.
8. I used an ironing board for a kitchen counter for 11 years. When I designed the kitchen, the counter is where I use to stand when I had the ironing board.
9. Big Fred built a large bay window onto our living room which we called the Christmas tree room. Since we didn't have flooring we nailed the tree stand to the floor. It is now where our desk and computer sits with a great view of the garden, the birdfeeder, and the fields beyond.
10. My house will never be finished. The upstairs is painted, but needs carpet. BF has put floor to ceiling bookshelves in the guest room (NB's old room) and has built doors for the closet. So, the upstairs needs much, much work.
11. That's only the beginning.

Big Fred is a carpenter. He works on fancy/sometimes million dollar houses for a living and just doesn't want to do the same things all weekend. Besides, our house is old, out of square, and needs lots of everything, and most projects can't be finished over a weekend. On the positive side, it is very unique and comfortable. Anyone who comes here will say that our house is a "home sweet home". I lovingly agree.

Raining outside, room decorated inside, welcome-welcome. Husband, son, mother, sister, sister's husband, niece, niece and husband, two favorite aunts, two favorite uncles, childhood friends, teacher friends, longtime friends, new teachers, old teachers, retired teachers, colleagues, principal, superintendent. Laughter, jokes, stories shared, stories corrected, celebrations remembered, kisses, hugs, everyone talking at once. Speeches, more jokes, smiles, bows, a toast, over 35 years teaching, a standing ovation. Tears, hugs, smiles, laughter. Food and drinks. Opening gifts and gifts, a beautiful mantle clock in appreciation, a penny collection for future drinks, a penny collection for the retirement fund, good wishes, good company, good bye, thank you, I'm so glad you could come. I' m so blessed. Thank you Creator. Thank you everyone. Thank you sister-cousin. Thank you family and friends. Thank you for sharing this celebration with me. Thank you for sharing my recent retirement. It was a grand party. I can't stop smiling.

Walking, walking, walking. CT and I have walked every day of this week for 3-5 miles. We even walked with the threat of rain this morning. The more we talk/walk (we talk a lot) the quicker the miles go by. We have done a lot of catching up and reminiscing since our friendship goes back to when our kids were little. Of course, our motive is to lose weight and shape up at bit. We both have time to walk, but it takes so much effort to get going. And by 4:00, I'm ready for a nap. Maybe it's all the fresh air. I guess that's why it is good to have a walkin-buddy. Thanks CT for your encouragement. I especially liked the comment that I might look like Miranda Priestly some day. Yup. Yup!

A Woman In Berlin: Six Week in the Conquered City is a diary of Russian brutality to women in the last days of World War II. This is written by an anonymous journalist who, like many women, suffers repeated rape and does whatever she needs to do to survive during this time.

This is not an easy book to read because it is a detailed account of the repeated rapes and humiliation of women, young and old. The German men are of no help since they are the defeated. The worse part is when her boyfriend, Gerd, returns from the war, reads her diary, and totally rejects her. The "Ivans" (Russians)treat their horses better than the women. Women and children are simple considered the spoils of war.

This book was first published in 1954 in Germany and was rejected because of the disgust of writing about mass rape and the choices made to survive. Some questioned the authenticity.

This is a reminder of the wars that are happening at this moment, how the women are treated, and I would guess that the stories will be held as secrets by many because of the shame and low regard for women in many societies. As the author says, the men come back with all of the glory and women remain mum.

Ah humanity, what we do to our own! And we are above animals because of or our higher intelligence?

Aunt B Eats at Hanna Bistro in TC. Today I met two long time friends at Hanna Bistro downtown. It has a really nice decor even though they covered up the original yellow brick in the building. Lots of interesting art work and cozy tables or booths.

I ordered the apple salad with raisins, honey glazed pecans, and cumin dressing, served on three large pieces of lettuce. It was tasty, and definitely within my diet, but a lot of apple to eat. I wouldn't order it again. C had a black bean corn salsa on a toasted flatbread topped with a sauce served on a bed of fresh greens. She liked it, but without the sauce, the beans and corn were very bland. This was listed as topped with duck. However, both ladies are vegetarian, so no duck. R ordered a Tuscan vegetable plate- white beans, artichoke, tomato all with a red sweet pepper sauce. She said that it was very good. Each lunch was a colorful dish. The waitress was polite and very helpful since many of the lunch items had sauces and cheeses that we have never hear of before.

We didn't have any problem understanding the desserts. They offer three: flourless chocolate cake with their own homemade coffee ice cream( I love coffee ice cream), fruit tart with their own homemade clove ice cream, and a white cake with a lemon chiffon top covered with raspberry sauce. I was good- I only tasted the clove ice cream and it was very yummy. I think this would be a great place to go for coffee and dessert. Next time I'll forgo the apple and get the dessert.

As I look at my posts, all I've done lately is eat!

Aunt B Eats at the Hard Luck Cafe in TC. I took mom out to the Hard Luck Cafe for brunch. This use to be the Chicken Coop.

It's a small diner, but not fast food. The menu featured breakfast along with pork and beef sandwiches and chicken. I ordered eggs, bacon, hashbrown potatoes, and toast. Mom ordered one pancake for $1.49. It was as big as a dinner plate. By sharing the bacon ( 5 pieces), we had plenty for two people. I know that many people (especially Big Fred) can eat these giant breakfasts, but I wish they would serve less food because I hate to waste it.

The waitress was nice, the food was standard for breakfast, and the decor was pleasing. Toast was made from local bakery bread so it was yummy. Hopefully, we will go again because I could get Mom's wheelchair in through the double doors. Everyone was very helpful. We spent a quiet morning together.

Aunt B Eats at the Telegraph House in Port Stanley, Ontario, Canada. We ate lunch at an umbrella-topped table with yellow and blue French linen, on the patio, under tall white spruce trees near the yellow brick Telegraph House.

It was by far the best food and service of all the restaurants we ate at in Port. I had a vegetarian quiche that was dynamite. It came with a fresh greens salad. Big Fred had a hamburger and RS and MS had a chicken wrap. We agreed that the lunch was tasty, nicely presented, and reasonably priced. Our waiter was friendly and efficient- not pushy. Even though it was noon and we didn't have a reservation, we were promptly seated. Unfortunately, we didn't have room for their famous rhubarb cremes. It was a delightful lunch. It got an "A".

Telegraph House is a B&B with two very nice rooms upstairs. I think it would be a great place to stay if I vacation in Port Stanley another time.

Try Port Stanley, Ontario, Canada for a quiet vacation. This little fishing town is located just south of London, Ontario on Lake Erie. Our four day visit was very relaxing.

If you want tons of shopping, this is not the place for you. I enjoyed the fact that I could peruse all of the stores the first day and then take my time to check out each store. This was the offering: two kitchen/home accessories shops, three fancy designer ladies clothing shops, an antique store (open Wednesday- Sunday), a fun consignment shop, and three art galleries. Lots of places to eat and a theater. Only thing lacking was a bookstore for Big Fred.

Once we arrived at Kettle Creek Inn, we really didn't have to go anywhere since everything was within walking distance. The men sat on the patio and read and we ladies checked out the shops and planned our day's agenda. We walked along the beach, watched the fishing boats, went bird watching at Hawk Cliff, visited nearby Quai Du Vin Winery, went to a play, shopped, and ate. Very low-keyed. Just what we had been waiting a whole year for.

I keep a travel journal so I know the good, bad, and ugly about each place in and near Port Stanley. The next few posts will be about the trip. I'll help you plan your vacation if you are anywhere near.

Vacation, vacation. Getting ready. I'm so excited. Food, quiet, a different scene. Aunt B. Eats. Of course, I have to be a tad careful since I've just lost 10 lbs. My goal is to not talk about it- just do it. I'll let you know.

A woolly bear in the driveway. So early in the year. What does it mean?

From Dr. Jeff Masters' Wunder Blog, "According to legend, the severity of the upcoming winter can be judged by examining the pattern of brown and black stripes on woolly bear caterpillars--the larvae of Isabella tiger moths. If the brown stripe between the two black stripes is thick, the winter will be a mild one. A narrow brown stripe means a long, cold winter."

Dr. Jeff Masters continues, "The Hagerstown, Maryland Town and Country Almanack has been publishing weather forecasts and weather lore for 209 years. The Almanack sponsors an annual woolly bear caterpillar event, where local school children in Hagerstown collect woolly bears. A panel of judges examines the collected specimens and issues a woolly bear forecast for the upcoming winter. The Hagerstown critters have had mixed success the past three years with their forecasts--they've been correct about half the time. This is only slightly worse than the official NOAA long range forecasts."

So, here's the deal, neighbors and friends, (Nick and Joey), let's gather our own woolly bears and see what we can predict about our upcoming winter. Being as scientific as possible, of course. :)

I read the book The Devil Wears Prada. I saw the movie. I just couldn't get into it. So many of the fashion references meant nothing to me. I thought the book was relentless in creating what I thought was going to be something satanic at the end. I'm glad it had a goody ending.

The movie was another story- I missed that Andy's boyfriend was not a teacher and there was very little development of Lily, Andy's friend. The main characters became Emily, Nigel, and Christian. Mostly, the movie was Andy running through traffic talking on her cellphone.

O.K., so I'm out of it. Hard to believe, after that statement, but I love beautiful clothes, jewelry, and shoes. I just wasn't impressed with the book or the movie.

I'll finally be a Gardening Pro not a wanna-be. I signed up to take the Master Gardener class offered by MSU. It is every Wednesday night for the next thirteen weeks.

The requirements are: people who are interested in plants and stewardship of the land-that's me, people dedicated to volunteerism- that's definitely me, and people willing to share their knowledge- well, that wouldn't be hard since I talk about plants and gardening all of the time. With the Master Gardener's certification, I'll be able to say I know what I'm talking about. Besides, it's on my to-do-someday list. I'm smiling.

Oh yes, it requires 40 hours of volunteer service. That will get my brain spinning-wondering what that will be all about.

A good sandwich is easy to find. Tonight we had BLT's for supper. Fresh homemade wheat bread from Bay Bread, vine ripened tomatoes from an Amish roadside vegetable stand, cheap, thinly sliced, salty bacon, and a handful of bib lettuce stolen from CT's refrigerator- definitely gourmet. We didn't toast the bread. We used lots of mayo. One and a half sandwiches was perfect for me. I adore a good "samitch".

I found a praying mantis in my garden. In Greek, "mantis" means soothsayer or prophet. I watched it move its head back and forth quizzically and put its front legs in the prayer stance. They are just the neatest carnivorous insect. A mantis eats flies and aphids so it is definitely welcome. I know the kids at school loved to bring them in (I was a science teacher). I'll start watching for the egg sack. I usually find it on my siding. Yes, baby praying mantis!

Lavender is one of my favorite garden flowers. The fragrance is intense yet down-to-earth, a little exotic and dreamy. Most people associate it with English soap or tea. Ahh- it's restful.

But, even more fun comes with cooking with lavender. I have made lavender iced tea, lavender sugar cookies, lavender pound cake, apricot halves stuffed with lavender infused cream cheese, used lavender as a garnish, and lavender butter for scones. By far, the most elegant and beautiful has been lavender jelly that I made for my guests at my first Friendship tea. The jelly was fabulously delicious!!

Here is the recipe:

Lavender Jelly (Victoria Magazine, August, 1995)

Lavender Infusion:
Three teaspoons dried Lavender flowers or one-half cup fresh lavender flowers
Three cups distilled water

Lavender Jelly:
one quarter cup cider vinegar
four cups sugar
one three oz. envelope liquid pectin
fresh lavender sprigs for garnish (optional)

Note: Use distilled water for the infusion to avoid chemicals in tap water that alter the color. The vinegar and pectin turn the infusion magenta (light) when making jelly.

To make infusion:
1. Place lavender flowers in medium bowl. Bring water to boil in non-reactive (enamel or stainless steel) saucepan. Pour over flowers.
2. Cover, let stand fifteen minutes. Strain. Reserve.

To make lavender jelly:
1. Measure 2 c. infusion into six-quart non-reactive pot. Stir in sugar and vinegar. Mix well.
2. Bring to full boil, stirring constantly.
3. Stir in pectin. Stir constantly and bring to a full rolling boil that cannot be stirred down.
4. Boil for exactly one min., stirring constantly.
5. Remove from heat. Skim off foam. Ladle jelly into sterilized half pint canning jars, leaving one-quarter in. head space. Seal with canning lids according to manufacturer's directions.
6. Cool upright on rack. Store in refrigerator up to one month. For longer storage, process hot jelly in boiling water bath five min. after sealing with lids. Yield: four half pints

Note: To garnish jelly with lavender sprigs, do not seal jars at first. Tent them loosely with plastic wrap. Cool on rack jive hrs. Using a narrow spatula, gently press lavender sprigs into jelly. Seal. Let stand 254 hrs. Refrigerate up to one month.

More ideas, try :http://www.whatscookingamerica.net/Lavender.htm

I forgot that I have a Moon Garden. Moon gardens are specialty gardens designed around white, silver-leafed or variegated plants. It is delightful to view at dusk or in the dark, since the moon reflects off the white blossoms.

I'll let the white and the moon be my garden guide. I have planted white phlox in large patches up against the gray picket fence. They glow. The light is also picked up from the silver-gray fuzzy lamb's ears I have carefully placed along the front of the border. I follow the brick pathline past a massive planting of white shasta daises that surround my peace pole. I move on past the spikey silver foliage of a butterfly bush. Then back around the loop again. The beauty is not just the fairytale color, it is the sweet fragrances that many plants put out at night to attract pollinating insects. The bathwater warm air mingles with the light fragrance making me heady and somewhat sleepy. It is enchanting.

The white glow reminds me that I had made this special garden for the fall because many of the plants are dying back and my garden needed something to spice it up. The full moon is Aug. 9, but it is plenty big enough for me to view my Moon Garden. I'll take a stroll each night while it lasts. How could I forget?

Because I love to eat, and I love to peruse the menu, and I love to go about town to try new things, I should have a column called Aunt B Eats. So here goes.

Yesterday, I went to the Patisserie Amie to get a sweettooth treat. I really wanted a large slice of sweet, but because it was extremely hot and the dog was waiting from getting his haircut, I could not be as leisurely as I had wished.

Patissiere Amie is a tiny shop on Front St. with a table for two outside the door, and pink and white hollyhocks growing along a rail fence at the side. It's a charming bistro with a red and white striped canopy and a window displaying bread and colorful boxes waiting to be filled. It has a perfect location backed by the river and the river backed by the bay.

Inside, one is immediately drawn to the showcase filled with delectable sweets. Pear almond tarts, bombes, meringues, and dark delicacies of chocolate beckoned. For $3.25, I chose a plum tart. It had a light pastry crust, filled with thinly sliced plums and topped with just a decorative sprinkle of powdered sugar. Not too sweet, just the plum flavor and the buttery crust. The maybe ten delicate bits of treat only made me want more.

The shop is cozy with posters, sports a large blackboard menu, and seats about a dozen. There is a long list of coffee drinks and teas. Fresh bread is baked daily and the soup of the day was vichyssoise with leeks. They have a featured omelette and daily crepes with caviar.

After looking at the coffee menu and the pastry selection, I decided that I will have to try each dessert inorder to make a fair judgement on their quality. I'll have to remember to get their early since they close at 3:00 on the weekends. Next time, big cup of French pressed coffee and a bombe. or a madeline, or something chocolate....... Bon Apetit.

TC Reads has picked Barefoot Heart by Elva Trevino Hart for the Community Reads 2006 program. This is Trevino Hart's autobiography of everyday life, going from poverty to a successful professional. Elva is raised in South Texas and at age three follows the crops with her family as migrant workers in Minnesota and Wisconsin. Her father is a hardworker and expects his wife and children to be the same. Child labor laws were not enforced in the 50's. Elva, the youngest, overcomes loneliness and neglect, graduates from high school and, is the first in her family to go to college. The story is about her childhood, relationships with her siblings, and her need to please her father. It is about trying to understand her childhood, going away from her culture, and finding her way back home.

The author will be in the area to discuss this impressive, heartwarming selection. http://www.tcreads.org/

Did I tell you that I love Pottery Barn? I love to look at their catalog and use it for all of my decorating changes. Because they are trendy, my house will never be finished. But then, that's the fun of it. It gives me a change to change things around and around and around. No little kids, only a dog and now I have time to mess with it.

Now that I think about it, I must be a Pottery Barn junkie. I have:

grand black desk phone in kitchen
black bulletin board near fridg
drawer pulls on cupboards (see picture)
glassbead garland wrapped around my chandelier over the table
large metal floor lamp with large square shade
paisley sheer curtain in bedroom window
sage green throw on couch (look alike because the one in the store was too expensive)
black display shelf in living room
displays of eggs in bird's nest and shells I collected ( I had these before Pottery Barn even thought of it.)
Use rice or white buttons under candles in glass containers
Store stuff in baskets
Store stuff in blue glass canning jars
Put cookbooks on display in kitchen
Flower arrangements like in their catalogue

However, I'm not hot on all of the decorating ideas. One thing I hate is when they turn all the books around on the bookshelves so the pages face outward. Now, that's a decorating idea I don't need. Yuck! And their bathroom ideas are a little too clean for me- obviously they don't have a carpenter or sawdust in their lives.

I crave going to a Pottery Barn Store, but when I get there I'm disappointed. I think I just like looking at mail order catalogs and moving things. I didn't say moving things and dusting.

Did I ever tell you that I love books? I especially like Pottery Barn's new Home. It's more than a coffeetable book. For me it is a whole world of decorating ideas. The decorating theme is to blend comfort and beauty. It assures that your style is to put the things around you that you love.

My idea of decorating is to put the things out that I love, and when I'm not noticing it anymore, I change it around. I also watch for the new arrangements-colors and textures that they put out in the Pottery Barn catalogue. Then, using their designer eye, I try to replicate the room, surface, wall- with the things that I have. Pretty inexpensive decorating and very cool.

I also notice items in the photographs. I look at the title of books that are on the shelves. For instance, I was interested in a cookbook on a kitchen self- Home Chef/Fine Cooking Made Simple by Judith Ets-Hokin. Seems this is a great reference book and now one I'll be on the lookout for. In one of the kitchens, I liked the display of old graters on the end of a cupboard. It gave me the idea to hang up a green rolling pin my friend, Judy, gave me for Christmas. I like what they do with organizing, so I have blue jars filled with pencils on my desk.

I'm working on my master bedroom and have found the perfect paint for the ceiling above the white beadboard. Pottery Barn has a line of paint through Benjamin Moore. I want to use Hazy Lilac 2116-40. Just the ticket to match my bedding. I have been looking and looking.

So comfort and beauty and lots of ideas. I'll probably have to check this book out over and over again since I see something I have missed each time I open it.

Weddings are all about bringing families together, at least for one day, if fortune shines on the couple. They bring unique ideas to their celebration. The idea presented of the bride on a longhorn was not part of bringing our families together or a tradition passed down. Thank heaven, the bride and groom rode away on a haywagon pulled by a pickup truck. The sign read "Red Neck Limo" and on the back it said, "Just Hitched."

My niece's wedding brought two aunts together representing the family to light the family candle which the bride and groom used to light their unity candle. It was Grandma B's 84 th birthday and the groom's parents wedding anniversary. The wedding cake used four little glasses that supported the top layer used in Connie and Don's wedding cake. A birthday/anniversary cake sporting photos of the celebrities was also served. Toasts were made during the reception with congratulations all around. I thought that these were a thoughtful, sweet touch to the couple's special day and will help everyone remember the festivities.

At first I thought the Red Neck Limo might be a bit much, but by comparison to the longhorn, gosh gee, it was mild. And anyway, I'm sure the next wedding will be creative and memorable without adding the above extra touch. I really don't know if it would do too much to bring our families together. :) Don't get any ideas.

Getting ready to go to a big wedding. I can't believe how stressful it has become and I'm just the Auntie. I know it will be very nice and I'm really excited. Her comes the bride....
This will be added to the Wedding book I'd like to write. Got any comments of best or worst parts of your wedding or weddings you have gone to?

Thus ends my future career as a chef before it even begins. I'm finished reading Heat and have a better understanding of the rich and famous badboy chef, Mario Batali and life in a professional kitchen. Way too hot and stressful for me. And I don't have the knowledge or know how. Besides, I may have red hair, but I'm not a celb or a want-to-be. Buford gives a sweat by sweat description of each of the kitchen stations and the people who operate them. He worked in Mario's famous New York restaurant, Babbo.

The author then goes on a quest to understand Italian food and it's people and history. He makes the adventure come alive by working with the people in Italy who have not become rich and famous, but are the sixth generation who have butchered, or made pasta, or created foods from the regions traditions and ingredients.

At one point, Buford is on a mission to find out about making pasta, specifically putting egg in pasta. As he said, no one understood his urgency to find the answer to the question. I can relate because when I have a question about foods or ingredients I research and research until I find an acceptable answer. Buford used many old accounts that have recently been translated to help understand the cooking traditions of Italy, one reference dated back to 1351.
.

So finding out about pasta and all kinds of Italian meats and methods of preparing was very interesting and inspiring. One enlightening idea was the use of all kinds of meat: lamb, rabbit, duck, pork, beef, wild game, etc, and all parts of the animal. In fact, the cooked meats turn into a brown mush. Raveoli is stuffed with any and all meat parts. I thought that this idea might be disgusting to the general population who have no idea what they eat. The menu at Babbo includes all kinds of things that Americans are not supposed to like- headcheese, octopus, beef cheeks, lamb's tongue, and calf brains.

Now, I was raised on a farm and my dad was a trapper, so I understand what these items are and how they are made. I vowed that, as an adult, I would never eat many of these foods because I had no choice as a kid. Looking at the list my mom cooked lamb, pork, beef, goat, chicken, turkey, goose, duck, rabbit, squirrel, raccoon, beaver, and venison. Pretty impressive. We did draw the line at headcheese, brain, and kidney pie. However, I have eaten these foods. I do know the idea of using what you have, in season, and making it by hand which is a theme in this book.

So, even though I love watching Mario B. on Iron Chef and looking at his new line of cooking items, after reading this book, I feel a real kinship to Bill Buford especially when he cut up the side of pork on his kitchen counter in his New York apartment. I wish I could remember all of the names of foods that Bill learned about. And I appreciate the recognition brought to the not so famous people in Italy who don't give a @@@ about business, but consider themselves artists.

If I go to New York, I would still like to go to Babbo. I will really have to look over the menu though.

Birthday Celebration at the Blue Tractor.

We, five friends, celebrated my friend's major birthday at the newest, hopping place in town, the Blue Tractor. It was a surprise party.

The Blue Tractor use to be Dill's Olde Towne Saloon, which was an Olde Towne fixture. Now, the building is updated with a mod whitewashed brick exterior and a farm machinery and tractor theme. The lights over the booth are galvanized pails hanging upside down. The lights over the mirrors (tin ceiling tiles with mirror glass), in the bathroom, have galvanized piping as the part that holds the light itself. Lots of gears, picture frames that look like the tread of an old threshing machine, and close-ups of farm implements . Definitely one-of-a kind decor. Bar in the middle of the room surrounded by high tables and chairs, and booths around the outside edge. A new look that's appropriate for our area.

The lunch menu was fairly extensive, including macaroni and cheese(woooopeee), and reasonable. We started out with an order of cheese and bacon french fries. We shared a Loaded Wedgie which is a wedge of iceberg lettuce with blue cheese dressing, bacon bits, and candied pecans. Yummy. Two friends shared a Farmer's Market salad. When the salads came, we ask if they had been halved and the waiter said it looked bad, so they were larger than the amount halved. This is the way to go because, even sharing, there was a large amount of food. We also shared an order of grilled chicken wings to dip in cherry chipotle (one of the dips). To finish off the birthday lunch, we ordered the banana split. This was three large scoops of Moomer's ice cream (chocolate cherry, vanilla, and strawberry) . The split had the traditional whipped cream, a maraschino cherry, and at least two split bananas along the side. This was served with five spoons. Thank goodness, the salad and wings were our version of the South Beach diet so we could splurge on dessert. :)

The downside was that a group of about two dozen Red Hat ladies were also having lunch at tables across from us. The restaurant has never been known for its good acoustics and we found that it hadn't changed with the new decor. It was loud!

But, we had a great time. Happy Birthday to my dear, dear friend CT.

Faster than a speeding grater. Safe on the knuckles. I'm endorsing the Microplane rotary cheese grater. Very nice.

This cheese grater comes in black, has two metal wheels that can shred the cheese really thick or one that does the cheese really fine. It is easy to use. Just put in a small amount of cheese, face the opening toward your food, and turn the handle. Yummy ground cheese on your pasta . And what a breeze to clean up. The handle opens and drops out the grater wheel. It is made of heavy plastic, durable and yet attractive ( if you can say that about a cheese grater).

Big Fred got this contraption for Christmas. We use it when we have pasta or tacos. I got it at Crystal Crate and Cargo which is the ultimate kitchen store. I think it cost about $20 which was very reasonable. And the cheese tastes better when it comes in a chunk.

Don't wait until you need a cheese grater. Go to a kitchen store, browse, and just putts. It' s more fun than window shopping or going to the mall. In my case, I don't think it would be cheaper.

I'm tooling down the road past my house, sun beating down, wind in my hair, waving to the folks out getting their mail. No, not in my Subaru, in a bright yellow VW Bug convertible. I know it would be just the car for me.

Go crazy. Live a little. Convertibles are so much fun. Once Frannie and I conned a friend into letting us take his little black Miata for the day. We got up early, got the top down, wrapped our neck with a scarf (Pia Isadora style) and cruised to a nearby town, stalling once or twice but were confident as the day progressed. On our return home, we cruised down Front Street to see if we could be noticed by anyone we knew. We went down the strip once more since we had no one to show off to. I mean, come one, half the fun is showing off to anyone who might notice. That was the day we changed our names to use on special occasions. We were rich girls driving our little sports car, nose in the air, cool sunglasses ( a must when one is being cool), and scarf blowing in the wind hoping to avoid being choked to death by the scarf wrapping around a tire. A fantasy played out. It was glorious!

So, I've been talking about sports cars for days. Pointing out neat cars everywhere we have gone. Oh, is that a Spitfire, an MG Midget, a Corvette? (like I know anything about cars). Oh, but did I mention that we have a sports car. We have a Jeep with a soft top and windows that can come out. It's Big Fred's work car. Anyway, Big Fred took out the windows and folded the top down and I had my convertible.

Let me tell you, I loved it. Sun beating down on my head, wind blowing in my hair, and lots of blue sky, white puffy clouds, and smells. The blue was intense. The clouds had flat bottoms and were close overhead. They were combining wheat and that has a warm musty straw smell that anyone from farm country would recognize right off. We say seven Sandhill cranes standing in the field. Of course, when we came to town, there was car exhaust, loud gear shifting from the big trucks loaded with cherries sloshing in their water containers. And, when it got cold, we put the heater on and warmed our legs.

All in all, it was a great day for enjoying the open air. I still would like a VW bug, but don't have to wait if Big Fred takes to using his sports car.

Hardware on kitchen cupboards is such a joy. I've lived in this house for over 30 years and finally have the pleasure of opening the drawer with a drawer pull. Of course, out of habit, I grabbed the corner or the silverware drawer and tugged because it sticks. Then I looked down and realized that I could easily pull it open using the handle. Oooh! Ahh!

As with many things, a little change can make a big difference. It makes the kitchen look like a new place. Very modern-pewter with porcelain drawer pulls and round polished nickel knobs on the cupboard doors. It reminds me of an old-apothecary cabinet. This style makes sense since my kitchen walls are made out of handhewn square logs. The kitchen was an 18x20 log cabin that is going on 200 years old. Big Fred, an accomplished carpenter, had the job finished in no time and such a delight.

Of course, there was the great tado about which hardware to get. I ordered, sent back, bought knobs to try out; have to take them back. Not the right size bolts to go from the outside of the drawer to the inside. We ended up using stainless steel screws. Now our kitchen is really stylin thanks to Pottery Barn and Home Depot. And Big Fred. Yes!!

Number 3 on the list of summer reading. The Education of Little Tree is the rememberance of a Cherokee boy's childhood. Little Tree is raised by his grandparents and learns the Cherokee "way" including a trade: whiskey making. The story takes place in the 1930's and is claimed to be a true story of Forrest Carter's (the author) life.

I love this sweet story of the granpa and granma's teachings. Little Tree knows his place in the world. He is part of the trees, river, animals, and the mountain. It made me feel warm and happy. I can relate because I also am drawn to the land that I make my home on. I have history here; my history includes the trees, creeks, animals and hills that surround me and the teachings of my parents, grandparents, and neighbors.

It is a well documented that Native American children were "rescued" and placed in schools and orphanages. Little Tree learns first hand about politicians and religion when he is placed in a church run orphanage. Of course, Little Tree is a bastard and is beyond the realm of God. I guess I needed a good cry because that's what I did through the last few chapters.

I have always wondered about how our society places so little value on children. (Hard to articulate). I think that is part of the reason why I was so sad. Need a good cry?

Shiprock, New Mexico is just east of Teec Nos Pos, Arizona where I started my teaching career on the Navajo Reservation. On a January day, I packed my car in the ice and snow and with my friend Suzie in convoy, headed west. I felt like Columbus when he thought he would drop off the edge of the earth.

The move was major. I had purchased my first car and prayed that the light would stay green so I wouldn't have to shift as I went up my first hill. I had never been so far from home or so far away from the familiar, like green trees and grass and blue lakes and clean water. I didn't know how to pronounce the name of the town I was going to and had no idea what my teaching assignment would entail. But, I was an expert on Navajo culture. I had read one book. Oh my! I could handle "them Indians" (no disrespect intended) since I had just come from a teaching job in an inner city school. Needless to say, I had more to learn than just shifting my car.

I was thinking about my experience today. It changed my world-view and my life. Who would have imagined?

To go gray or not to go gray? That is the question.

O.K. I said I would stop coloring my hair once I retired. So, I'm retired. I said I liked it colored because I'm a professional and I felt I should be concerned about personal appearance since I was an example for children. I said, I never did such a thing when I was younger because I couldn't afford it and it just wasn't what the women in my family did. More reasons for hair color: my hair is gray and white (or all white for all I know), I always wanted to be a redhead, I enjoy pampering myself, I deserve it, it's fun.

On the other hand, my husband bluntly pointed out that if it is to attract men, it wasn't working. :) And, how shallow if it was an ego thing. "Vanity, vanity....

So, I'm old enough to realize all of these arguments pro and con. Maybe I just am not a risktaker (although I encourage everyone else to take risks). Maybe I don't want to come to grips with the idea that I'm getting old. Maybe it will look bad. I wish I could put my face on different hair colors like they can draw a house or plan a kitchen with CAD.

I haven't convinced myself one way or the other. Usually, I don't put these ideas out any further than my friends, but how does the world feel about old ladies dyeing their hair? I'll take all thoughts on the subject under consideration.

I hate it! Wind and rain! I live on a hill so we get major wind. When storms move in from the west, our hilltop home is a grand attraction to lightning. When I was a kid, I thought thunder was the bad guy. Sure, whoever told me that?

Last week's storm was very scary because our house was hit by lightning three times. The strike took out the answering machine, came in as a ball of light near the microwave, and came down the hotwater heat copper pipe in another ball of light. I was shaking, to say the least, and sat on the floor in the living room with the dog until the storm passed. Luckily, I had just stopped talking on the phone to my sister. Toast.

Yesterday's storm had only one lightning strike , again, near the microwave. But, the wind was really blowing and rain came in sheets. It took a branch out of a big poplar tree in the backyard. We spent some time picking up leaves and branches. In places, it flattened the flowers. Otherwise, no damage.

Thank goodness for the rain. This area seldom gets 90 degree temps day after day. The lawn was burning up. Chance of forest fires was high. And no one could sleep at night, even with a window air-conditioner on.

Today is gloriously sunny, cool, and green. However, I still hate rain and wind and lightning.

Oh, Fannie Flagg, you are too hilarious. I chuckled, I tisked, and I outright belly laughed. Can't Wait to Get to Heaven is the story of elderly Elner Shimfissle (even the name is humorous) who dies, goes to Heaven, and is sent back. Her influence on others, over her long life, is not a surprise, but some of the events are. Some of the events in Heaven are a surprise, too. I loved Fannie Flagg's ideas about Heaven.

Elner has always asked questions and finds out the answers to: What came first, the chicken or the egg? and Why are we here?

Flagg is right up-to-date with references to Martha Stewart and Pottery Barn. The characters live in the present day, fast-paced world. The questions aren't new ones and neither is the theme, but the story is uplifting, hopeful, and sweet.

It's a great way to spend a summer afternoon. It's a must read book.

Detective Precious Ramotswe is back in her lopsided white van solving the latest mystery in her area of Botswana. Mma Ramotswe and her assistant Grace Makutsi are dealing with problems on the nature preserve, a whistle-blower, and blackmail. Both ladies take a look at what makes them happy. Grace thinks that blue shoes will make the difference. Precious, who is traditionally built, decides to go on a diet, but after reflection concludes that she really doesn't want to change. Of course, the personal growth is as interesting as the traditional "who dunnit". So, a mystery within a mystery.

I enjoy this series because it is a glimpse into the African culture with women in the key positions. Smith has made this another entertaining story in The No.1 Ladies Detective Agency Series.

I have to admit, that I liked the first book best, (No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency) because Precious Ramotswe ( the main character) is more developed, created and nurtured by the author. I don't think Blue Shoes and Happiness gives enough of the background to help the reader fully understand.

I noticed that Smith is really developing the secondary characters: Grace and Mr. Polopetsi (whom Mma Ramotswe has befriended and works in her husband's garage). Could it be that there will be some spin-off with these characters? Precious keeps talking about moving back to her home village. Maybe she'll have a franchise detective business. :)

The Ginger Tree , by Oswald Wynd is book number two in my read-every-summer series. I was surprised at how much I had forgotten.

The story takes place in China and Japan from 1903-1942. The book is in journal and letter form written by a Scotswoman, Mary MacKenzie, telling about living in the Far East. In the beginning, she is on her way to Peking to marry Richard, who is a military attache. She carries a frugal trousseau and naive ideas about marital bliss. Once married, she sees little of her husband and is abandoned by the European community when she has an affair with a Japanese nobleman. Her daughter, Jane, is taken from her and is sent to England to be raised by Richard's mother. Mary is taken to Japan under the direction of Kentaro ( her lover) who takes her as his mistress. So, her life involves surviving as a Westerner, and a woman in cultures that have little tolerance for women. Her story describes life during two world wars and the Tokyo earthquake of 1923.

Since I have visited Japan, I look for descriptions of places I have been. And, I'm always interested in other cultures and the woman's role there. This is an easy read and has some unpredicted turns of events that I haven't included. On to the next book!

It's called Catchfly or None-So-Pretty. This magenta flower is all over my garden and I have been wondering what is was. I found out not too long ago when KFOL had it's annual Garden Walkabout.

I was incharge of a garden which was touted as a planted-from-seeds garden. What a pleasant surprise! Along a dirt road, you would notice the gardens right next to a nicely made stone column and rail fence. This was impressive, but not so glorious as the 20x40 or so garden hidden behind the house. This was a mass of color: blue Bachelor's Buttons, orange California poppies, fragile red and white poppies, bright red orange poppies, hollyhocks, white daises, golden Sweet Marguerite, pink, red, burgundy and pink/white Sweet Williams, and vibrant passionate pink Catchfly. This scene was like stepping into a Monet painting. Colleen (the owner) just dead-heads the flowers and puts them where she wants new plants. I asked if she covered them with soil, and she said, "No, nature doesn't do it that way."

So, as the garden was being toured and I was the tour guide pointing out the features and answering questions, a master gardener told her friends that the plant with the five petal star flower was Catchfly. My favorite reference, The Flower Family Album, Fisher and Harshbarger (1941), puts this plant in the Pink family with some species carrying a sticky gum high on their stems to keep away unwlecome insects.

I have been dead-heading them and placing them around my garden thanks to Colleen's advice. They are very colorful and an easy, cheap addition. Another great reference for wildflowers is http://www.wildflowerinformation.org/default.asp.

No, it's not the yellow brick road. Big Fred is making a serpentine brick path from the brick patio to the bricked-in garden. It looks very charming like a Mary Engelbreit drawing.

We have a cottage garden with vegetables and flowers, mostly flowers. I planted one eggplant and two zucchini. I think the plants are stunted since they don't seem to be thriving. The tomatoes, however, are doing well. The cherry tomato plants are rather gangly, but I have loads of little tomatoes already on them. It's hard to buy just four tomato plants when you have been raised on a farm with 200 tomato plants. I started with four plants, but then wanted some yellow pear tomatoes. What I thought were yellow pear turned out to be more cherry tomatoes, so now I'm up to eight plants. I finally purchased four yellow pear tomato plants which are still pretty small. So, most of my garden is tomatoes. The good thing is that I like to make salads with tomatoes. My husband doesn't like them. And since we are gentlemen farmers ( our definition is that we plant it, but don't care if anything is harvested).

Big Fred does like roses and clematis vines. We have a lovely variety of both and they're just starting to bloom. So, the brick path connects the house with the garden. I'll be happy when it is completed because, as my son always taunted, "She loves her garden!"

A Walk Down The Road.
I turn out of my driveway past the white house with black shutters I was raised in, turn left, north, for a walk down the road. I've gone down this way many times. I pass large Colorado blue spruce that my dad planted. They were to be sold for Christmas trees, but when he died, they were not trimmed, and as time passed the blues grew too big to sell. I'm not good at judging height, but they must be twenty feet high. Some are silver blue. They stand proud, each with their own personality. The heat of the day brings whiffs of pitch and needles. It was said that there is enough trees to plant a city. I sometimes think I could give them to a city and picture new housing developments with very tall trees placed to make you think that they had been there forever. I wish I knew of a city that would take them. They probably would be too big to dig and transport. So much for the city idea. Maybe one of them could go for the downtown Christmas tree. They would meet the size requirement and certainly would be a better shape than last years scraggly tree.

On the opposite side of the road, I miss the line of ancient maple trees that were along the edge ; the pavement getting closer and closer. The trees grew and the road became modern and wider. The trees are gone, cut down, because they were tapped each spring, year after year. Sometimes you would see three or four wire-handled buckets hanging off the spigots that were bored into the tree so the sap would drip out. The practice of tapping basically girdled the trees and they started loosing their top branches so the county marked them to be cut down.

I miss the field beyond the trees, lately planted to sunflowers. Mr. F or one of the boys would be out there working up that field with a rusty old tractor, going back and forth raising a big cloud of dust since the field was mostly sand, not even loamy sand. Just sand. Over and over the field had been planted to corn. Then maybe left for hay. But, I liked watching the sunflowers grow, their sturdy stalk, their tight flower bud, and then the field overflowing with sunflowers like my own Van Gogh painting. The year of the sunflowers, we saw flocks of turkeys crossing the road, sneaking past the tall spruce to get to a slight ravine that hid them from view until they reached the maple woodlot on the northwest corner of the property.

I'm almost to the farm's property line. I remember the field beyond the big spruce being planted to potatoes. Fred took the eight-tined fork out to dig potatoes for supper, but dug a ways without a single potato. It was then that he realized that someone had been there before him. Got the potatoes and cleverly replaced the top. That wasn't the first time someone had stolen from the farm.

I'm nearing Mrs. F's house. You could easily find it if I described her yard. I think I see two rabbits eating under her birdfeeder. I know what lies over the hill. I've gone this way many times before.

Monday they spent most of the day doing wash. They saved the overalls for last because they were so dirty. The weather was warm so most of the white clothes were dry, taken down from the line, folded and put away.
This is Tuesday and they are in the living room where a cool breeze comes through the screen door slightly fluttering the lacey curtains on the big window. They are talking about the tomatoes that are doing good thanks to all of the rain they have had lately. Talk shifts to neighbor's and their illnesses and troubles. Their voices are quiet, interspersed with chuckles and outright laughter, as outright as two dignified farm ladies can be. They have history and know the background for each story. They nod and add details that are left out. They don't have to explain. They are neighbors. Just the next farmhouse down the road.
Supper needs to be started soon, so Ruth has stopped her lazy, peaceful rocking, and must leave. But the chat continues about Club that's coming up next week and maybe Colon would like some molasses cookies.
My mom's best friend, Ruth. She's a tall, big-boned woman wearing those fancy bead necklaces and earrings to match that she always wears when she comes visiting. Mom puts a few more sticks of wood in the cook stove while Ruth stands at the door. Mom will make those molasses cookies on a rainy day when heating the oven won't make the house so hot. Maybe tomorrow.

Here's the recipe:
Ruth's Molasses Cookies
1 1/2 c. sugar
1 c. lard (shortening)
2 teaspoons soda
1/2 c. molasses
1 cup strong coffee
cinnamon
salt
4 cups flour + a little more

Note: I found the recipe card in my recipe box. It has creases in three places and looks ratty. This is a really old-fashion cookie recipe. The cookies are soft and tasty. No fuss. It makes about 4 dozen cookies if made by the teaspoon and dropped on a greased cookie sheet. I bake them at 350 degrees for about 8-10 min. It's one of those recipes that you have to watch to make sure they don't burn. When I try a few warm cookies, I think of Ruth, a sweet, old-fashioned friend.

Friends. I knew there was a reason I loved reading Country of the Pointed Fir. In chapter 12, Mrs. Fosdick comes to visit Mrs. Todd. Mrs. Fosdick has been making her rounds from house to house on Dunnet Island. The two have caught up on all the latest news. Mrs Fosdick says to Mrs. Todd that it is pleasant to talk with an old acquaintance that knows what you know. She says, "Conversation's got to have some root in the past, or else you've got to explain every remark you make, an' it wears a person out." Mrs. Todd agrees that old friends are always best. I spent the day with four of my dearest old friends. We have history. We don't have to explain anything. What one forgets, the others fill in. Mrs. Todd also advises that you can catch a new one (friend) that's fit to make an old one out of. Welcome, Amanda.

We went to the super Wal-mart to do our grocery shopping . Now, I usually can't stand Wal-mart. You know, all the stuff about how bad they are for the community, push small businesses out, have cheaply made products, poor hiring practices. This store wasn't too bad. Spacious aisles, yummy deli, and bread. What more could I ask for. We got fat free refried beans- 1 lb. for $.66. How could you screw up refried beans. Coffee was $1.05 less than we usually pay. Now we don't have much more to compare because as a general rule we just buy what we want. If it is on sale, great, if not, we get it anyway. With very little proof, we figured we saved $2o. Since we went on a long drive down a quiet back road, we also called it entertainment, so we claimed additional savings. What can two people do for that amount of money these days? We went for a drive, bought groceries, saved money. All should be good. It really bothered me because what had been a large field at the edge of town was now a giant Meijers, a super Wal-mart, the usual gas stations, fast food joints, and acres of parking lots. To make it worse, across the intersection was a large empty building up for sale because a grocery store had moved out. On the other corner was another large building going out of business. As I looked around I felt cheated. Boo, hiss, Meijers and Wal-Mart!