tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55883611432637592152024-03-05T10:11:38.876-08:00Sugarberry HomeStephanie Bearcehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14014743232206545023noreply@blogger.comBlogger53125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5588361143263759215.post-66934755149194271332013-06-27T14:31:00.002-07:002013-06-27T14:31:32.439-07:00Let the Building Begin!<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">By Stephanie Bearce</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">For over two years we have been juggling two
houses. One the home we lived in, and
the other the home we WANT to live in.
Crazy you say. Definitely. Especially considering that the two houses
are in the same town. It’s not like we
are moving to the beach or a mountain cabin.
No, our little dream house is in Frenchtown, St. Charles. And it is a wreck. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">An adorable wreck, but still a wreck.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Darrell and I have both lived in old town St.
Charles. As a matter of fact, the first
house that Alan and I owned is only a block and a half from my third street
house. So Darrell and I both know the
neighborhood, and we love it. That is
our primary reason for moving. We want
the charm of an old neighborhood. We
love the history of the buildings, the architecture of the past, and the fun of
walking to restaurants and events.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">BUT it has taken a herculean effort to get
here. We found our Charming little house
in the middle of the housing market crash.
By the time we got it, the house had become property of a bank. The exterior was in decent shape, but the
inside was something seen only in horror movies. Really bad horror movies. Our daughter, Nichole, is still convinced the
old coal bin was used to hide bodies.
She could be right.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Darrell spent much of the past two years gutting the
house. He donned a face mask and safety
glasses and with the help of his trusty crowbar pulled down 25 TONS of lath and
plaster and hauled it out of the house to giant dumpsters. He’s on a first name basis with the dumpster
delivery men. I’m not making that up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">While we gutted the house, we watched the housing
market s-l-o-w-l-y improve until this winter we knew it was time. We started fixing up the house we live in to
sell. If you haven’t sold a house in a
few years you have no idea of how hard this is.
I love HGTV, but I swear all those “fix it to sell it” shows have left
the buying public with some unrealistic expectations. I won’t go into all the painful details. Let’s just say that I know the Lowes
employees by first name <i>and</i> what
shifts they work.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">We were rewarded for our hard work by selling our
house in three weeks. Yippee! Oh wait –
that’s when the work really began.
Packing boxes, trips to Goodwill, selling on Craig’s list, more trips to
Goodwill, more boxes and finally a POD.
We stuffed that POD full of furniture and boxes and moved the rest to
our temporary residence; a tiny little duplex just two blocks from our project
house.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">It feels like we are back in college. Our pantry is the bookshelf I had in my
office. My clothes are stored in the
buffet. (It has drawers therefore it is
now my dresser.) I have lost the cereal
bowls and most of my books. Probably in
that POD, unless they accidentally went to Goodwill. I won’t know until we move – Again.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-LTBaKY7_FjUuBmXK2-sK3J68cLnJNNajzBixEioQrY4FYgsNh0Q4CC6VmWbcORtnZmsWFIL-wYz4_UkknKQfh5BU6mIdy11yomM8b4vUl25YwSdZDz7_FgeX58g_Fzh1uqHyM6sie5QE/s1600/DSCN0585.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-LTBaKY7_FjUuBmXK2-sK3J68cLnJNNajzBixEioQrY4FYgsNh0Q4CC6VmWbcORtnZmsWFIL-wYz4_UkknKQfh5BU6mIdy11yomM8b4vUl25YwSdZDz7_FgeX58g_Fzh1uqHyM6sie5QE/s320/DSCN0585.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">But now we are ready for the fun part. The reconstruction of the interior of our
house. Currently we are getting the
building permits, which is not easy in a historic district. We have promised and signed in blood that we
will not change the exterior of the house.
That seemed like a silly request to us, since the whole reason we bought
the house was for the EXTERIOR! Our contractor is getting all the final
signatures and soon, very soon the old house will hear the sound of hammers and
saws. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Meanwhile I am training Lucy that her yard is at
1001 North Third Street. She loves
terrorizing the neighborhood dogs on her morning walks and bonus – she has
already found and killed a snake. Four
pound Yorkie – 1. Snake – 0. The adventure has begun!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Stephanie Bearcehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14014743232206545023noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5588361143263759215.post-70332179310930079862013-03-18T12:53:00.000-07:002013-03-18T12:53:21.670-07:00Old-Fashinoned Drug Stores--A Thing of the Past<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">By Valerie Battle Kienzle</span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“The
times they are a changing…”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The words to Bob Dylan’s
song were accurate in 1964 and they’re accurate today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our society and culture experienced dramatic
changes during the 20<sup>th</sup> century.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And the changes continue with the passing of each decade.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I grew up in the 1960s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In those days, the local drug store or
pharmacy was truly LOCAL – locally-owned and locally-managed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pharmacists usually lived near their stores and
sometimes used a mortar and pestle to combine ingredients and make their own
capsules.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JJPyRCvOdzU/UUdsY4FxFoI/AAAAAAAAAyk/Vw9N9KoBT2A/s1600/0486258912_13_Uncredited_Coca%25252dCola.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JJPyRCvOdzU/UUdsY4FxFoI/AAAAAAAAAyk/Vw9N9KoBT2A/s200/0486258912_13_Uncredited_Coca%25252dCola.jpg" width="128" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZM1t7F5ZfIM/UUdrtBJBIiI/AAAAAAAAAyU/q4sJOlHaNvM/s1600/997898-032.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="126" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZM1t7F5ZfIM/UUdrtBJBIiI/AAAAAAAAAyU/q4sJOlHaNvM/s200/997898-032.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Drug stores weren’t just a
place to find medicines and first-aid supplies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They were a place to eat a hot breakfast at a counter and to grab a
made-to-order sandwich for lunch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They
were a hang-out for teens wanting a cool ice cream float, milkshake or soft drink. Kids
with a quarter could buy a lunch sack full of assorted candy. They were a place
for old-timers to meet each morning to drink coffee and solve the world’s
problems.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were a place to catch up
on all the latest community news – who was having a baby, who was visiting
out-of-town relatives, what crops were going in, who was leaving to join the
military. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Drug stores, like today’s
pharmacies, carried newspapers and magazines, an assortment of cosmetics, school
supplies, greeting cards, holiday decorations and last-minute gift ideas for
loved ones.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Years ago, some even carried
Timex watches and fine jewelry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Pharmacies were once a
neighborhood social hub.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And they were
noted for personal service.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you
couldn’t find what you were looking for, someone working behind the counter called
you by your first name, asked how your family was and helped you find just the
thing you needed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Instead of punching access
codes into key pads, pharmacists walked through swinging wooden half-doors to
get to their compounds and drug supplies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This was before the days when cookie-cutter big-box stores like Walgreen’s
and CVS popped up on seemingly every other street corner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Pharmacology was a popular
career choice in Mom’s family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Three
uncles and two cousins became pharmacists.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Four of the five owned and ran successful drug stores for decades in
their respective communities.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were
esteemed residents in their towns, holding various appointed and elected
positions.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">They continued to own and
work in their drug stores until age and infirmities forced them to sell their
stores and retire.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their individual
departures from the pharmacy world were lamented by community residents who’d
known and depended on them for several generations.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ce0XzXh6N4M/UUdsxmq1A8I/AAAAAAAAAys/mVfLN2PZnQw/s1600/P2220313.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ce0XzXh6N4M/UUdsxmq1A8I/AAAAAAAAAys/mVfLN2PZnQw/s200/P2220313.JPG" width="150" /></a><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Refilling a prescription was
easy in those days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Customers brought in
their empty bottles and containers, and then the pharmacist refilled them,
usually while they waited.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were no
questions about insurance coverage, allowable refills or possible drug
interactions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you didn’t have the
cash to pay, the pharmacist kept a running tab, asking only that you pay once a
month or when you could.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some even took
dairy products or produce as trade.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My grandparents
raised dairy cows.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Grandma provided
fresh cream to her brother’s drug store for use in the milkshakes at his soda
fountain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Such a thing would never
happen today.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LMHuhD2ky2Y/UUdt9QvQWGI/AAAAAAAAAzE/_6tTW88mX3k/s1600/997367-045.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LMHuhD2ky2Y/UUdt9QvQWGI/AAAAAAAAAzE/_6tTW88mX3k/s200/997367-045.jpg" width="141" /></a><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I thought about all of this
the other day as I walked into my nearby Walgreen’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I chose to go inside rather than go to the
drive-thru, which I find to be a totally impersonal experience.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yelling into a microphone from my car just
doesn’t do much for me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I’ve been in Walgreen’s
stores in various states.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The layout is
almost always exactly the same in every store, so I know where to go to find
whatever I need.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d used my cell phone
to scan the bar codes on my previous prescription packaging. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The scan of those tiny bars told pharmacy
personnel everything they needed to know about me, the prescription and other
medications I take.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was able to select
a time to pick up the prescription via my cellphone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No personal interaction needed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Earlier that day, I’d loaded
images from my camera to Walgreen’s website.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>In less than an hour, I received an automatically generated e-mail
telling me my printed photos were ready for pick up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bRLNrK6YabM/UUdtnN3R0QI/AAAAAAAAAy8/CBFyzNXf2is/s1600/295648-041a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="197" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bRLNrK6YabM/UUdtnN3R0QI/AAAAAAAAAy8/CBFyzNXf2is/s200/295648-041a.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">No one greeted me, much less
recognized me, as I walked through Walgreen's automatic doors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I went to the back of the store to pick up my
prescriptions and was told that the pharmacist could provide only a partial
refill as the store’s supply had run out. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I didn’t need cash.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I pulled out a Flexible Spending Account card
to pay the amount due that hadn’t been covered by our insurance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I swiped it through a machine and an
attendant who seemed distracted handed me a bag with the medicine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Attached to the bag was a lengthy sheet with
tiny type informing me of possible problems I might have while taking the
drug.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I wasn’t sick before, the
possibility of experiencing one or more of the side effects shown on this
extensive list of negative reactions was enough to make me question how I
felt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Also listed was the amount of money
our insurance coverage had saved me – almost $100.00.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At that point, I wasn’t sure whether to feel
ill or thankful. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-etjm0lf4tyc/UUdurEXvv7I/AAAAAAAAAzQ/i31oa38FngE/s1600/997898-643.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-etjm0lf4tyc/UUdurEXvv7I/AAAAAAAAAzQ/i31oa38FngE/s200/997898-643.jpg" width="160" /></a><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">So my trip to the pharmacy
was quick, efficient and took very little interaction with other human beings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And in case I was concerned about touching
something that someone with germs might have touched, a bottle of hand
sanitizer was conveniently located at the pick-up window.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Saving time is important in
today’s fast-paced world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Efficiency is
a good thing in a world where so many demands are placed upon our time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But some days it would be nice to be greeted,
to have someone interact with us, to encounter someone who cares.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can think of few places where social
interaction takes place as it once did at the local drug store.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I miss those days.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5588361143263759215.post-6225322227479298632013-02-28T15:25:00.000-08:002013-02-28T15:25:11.864-08:00Memories in Miniature<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UnrNcDDp_zg/US_gbMsXy1I/AAAAAAAAAw4/IRH74POMhok/s1600/041.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UnrNcDDp_zg/US_gbMsXy1I/AAAAAAAAAw4/IRH74POMhok/s200/041.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">By Valerie Battle Kienzle</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Confession time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m
sentimental and I’m a collector, but I'm not a hoarder.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The collections I enjoy have no real monetary value.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The words “treasured trash” have been used to
describe them. Perhaps their only value is in my head and heart. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">My favorites include various paper ephemera – match book
covers (smoking restrictions have made them almost extinct), vintage postcards,
postage stamps from throughout the world and vintage advertisements. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The dated graphics and muted color printing of
years gone by are works of art to my untrained eyes. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-v5xN0OpGUrE/US_ijJX-P0I/AAAAAAAAAxA/tEn_nohVTpc/s1600/38photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-v5xN0OpGUrE/US_ijJX-P0I/AAAAAAAAAxA/tEn_nohVTpc/s200/38photo.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">We moved last year, and the task of packing and transporting
all this stuff was mine alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Couldn’t
get anybody to help me with those boxes and bins!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I carefully wrapped things when we first began the packing
process.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But as time and patience grew
short, I simply placed things in boxes, labeled then and carted them to the
garage for transport.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As the boxes piled
up, I told myself this was a great opportunity to pitch and purge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I <u>did</u> get rid of lots of household
unnecessaries, but not the collections. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Jj1-eY_JoPk/US_jHgCFxpI/AAAAAAAAAxI/kRqx_aUbdBI/s1600/009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Jj1-eY_JoPk/US_jHgCFxpI/AAAAAAAAAxI/kRqx_aUbdBI/s200/009.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">By the time I got to the old shadow box on an upstairs
wall, I no longer cared how things were wrapped for the move.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember grabbing the still-full shadow box
from the wall and stuffing it into a large shopping bag.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I placed it on a closet shelf at the new
house and there it remained for months.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">One day after our household was moved and the furniture
unpacked, I spotted the shadow box.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Remembering
that nothing had been individually wrapped, I attempted to keep it flat as I pulled
it from its bag.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Amazingly, nothing was
broken.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Zoez8MRvOd4/US_jedSMGzI/AAAAAAAAAxQ/4f4XJSsHF6o/s1600/013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Zoez8MRvOd4/US_jedSMGzI/AAAAAAAAAxQ/4f4XJSsHF6o/s200/013.JPG" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I hadn’t really looked at its contents in a long
time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I sat down with it and realized I
have yet another collection.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like the
other collections, it contains nothing of monetary value, but what it does
contain is an assortment of tiny trinkets -- items symbolic of various ages, stages, people
and moments of life. Here are a few
items from the collection:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Beaded American flag made by my
daughter’s friend after Sept. 11, 2001.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Bible that was part of a flower arrangement
Mom got the day I was born.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Bassett Hound figurine (I’ve shared my life
with three so far.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Great-Grandma Smith’s pocket watch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Tiny typewriter and dictionary from
Journalism School days at MIZZOU.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Bicentennial doll from 1976.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3GCVNvmh5vA/US_kc6u8G-I/AAAAAAAAAxY/iJ1lBt5Adi0/s1600/023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3GCVNvmh5vA/US_kc6u8G-I/AAAAAAAAAxY/iJ1lBt5Adi0/s200/023.JPG" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">High school ring and graduation tassels.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Matchbox Miata convertible from a friend who
died with brain cancer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Mugs with the kids’ names on them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Cooking tools from a long-ago Barbie set.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Beer stein from college friends who moved.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EM9_u4YCqrI/US_kvYp66zI/AAAAAAAAAxg/oapgk624KE0/s1600/006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EM9_u4YCqrI/US_kvYp66zI/AAAAAAAAAxg/oapgk624KE0/s200/006.JPG" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pZAckMWShc0/US_lBGZpBMI/AAAAAAAAAxo/D5StQ5dVR6I/s1600/040.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pZAckMWShc0/US_lBGZpBMI/AAAAAAAAAxo/D5StQ5dVR6I/s200/040.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The world’s smallest Santa.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Great-Grandma Ogilvie’s souvenir pin from the
1896 Nashville, Tenn., Centennial celebration.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Bottles of 7UP from my days working for The
Seven-Up Company.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The items most likely would
be tossed out as trash by others, but each and every one represents a tiny
piece of my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The shadow box now has
a place of honor on my desk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I look at
it sometimes and am thankful for the visible reminders of special people, places
and events.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5588361143263759215.post-53304629577572263392013-02-27T17:31:00.002-08:002013-02-27T17:31:48.519-08:00Spring DreamsBy Stephanie Bearce<br />
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I need spring NOW! Unfortunately my yard is still full of snow and the forecast calls for below normal temperatures. So much for that global warming idea.<br />
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My fingers are itching to dig in the dirt and my eyes are longing to see colors that are not 50 shades of gray. So what's a winter weary girl to do? <br />
Make plans for container gardens, of course!<br />
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I scoured the web to get new ideas for spring containers. I found some that I really want to try. <br />
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And I found some that are uhm... well... let's just call them<i> interesting</i>. <br />
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Take a look and feast your eyes on a preview of spring color.<br />
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I love the use of wagons, wheelbarrows, and bicycles for creating a backdrop for lovely gardens.<br />
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But my yard is small, so hanging baskets and window boxes may be a better option for me.</div>
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But honestly - if I can find some of these statue type pots - I am going to have some FUN...</div>
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Ahh spring... you can't come too soon for me!</div>
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<br />Stephanie Bearcehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14014743232206545023noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5588361143263759215.post-19215298318836941252013-02-20T12:37:00.001-08:002013-02-20T12:37:48.512-08:00Open the Door<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
by Stephanie Bearce</div>
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I love beautiful doors. When I go on vacation I am always snapping pictures of doors and wondering what lies behind them. What lovely places are hidden from view? What amazing adventures lie behind those walls? What would happen if I snuck inside?</div>
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I've gathered a few pictures of incredible doors. Take a look and find your favorite. Which door would you like to enter? And what door are you waiting to open in your life?</div>
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<br />Stephanie Bearcehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14014743232206545023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5588361143263759215.post-16958164076761451462013-02-13T16:58:00.002-08:002013-02-13T16:58:19.172-08:00Happy Valentine's Day!by Stephanie Bearce<br />
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Happy Valentine's Day from me to you! I am posting pictures of some of my vintage valentines. Hope you enjoy them as much as I do.<br />
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I'm posting them in basic chronological age. It's fun to see how they have changed over the years. They start in 1890 and end in the 1960's.<br />
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Stephanie Bearcehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14014743232206545023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5588361143263759215.post-52854513211129992032013-02-09T17:21:00.000-08:002013-02-09T17:21:52.033-08:00Upcycle??? <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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As a child of the seventies, I grew up being indoctrinated about the importance of recycling and saving the planet. I went home from school and dutifully told my parents how they should stop killing the earth. ( My father, the science teacher, explained that he was already somewhat aware of the laws of conservation.)<br />
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I was so environmentally conscious that I even won first place in the conservation poster contest for my "Stomp Out Pollution" Poster. It featured a big pink foot stepping on garbage. Yeah... I was cool.<br />
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Since then I have spent years diligently separating my glass from my plastic, hauling cans to the recycling plant, and attaching water saving nozzles to my showers. I even tried a stint at cloth diapers... that did NOT work out well. <br />
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But lately what I have been reading about is upcycling and green products. Green products I understood. I'm all for producing goods and products in ways that are kinder to the earth. But Upcycle? What the heck was that? Being the smart person that I am, I consulted wikipipedia.<br />
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<em><span style="color: black;">The goal of upcycling is to prevent wasting potentially useful materials by making use of existing ones. This reduces the consumption of new raw materials</span></em><em><span style="color: black;"> when creating new products.</span></em><br />
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Whoa! Without even knowing it - once again I have been on the cutting edge of environmentalism! I mean what could be a bigger upcycle project than rehabbing an existing 1852 house? As a matter of fact my whole house is filled with upcycle furniture. Of course I call them antiques.<br />
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And I found out that I have been making "upcycle jewelry with my vintage buttons and bits and pieces of found treasure. The jars that I use to store my treasures are "upcycled." And those old sweaters I use for felting...the magazine pictures I cut out to use... yup- all upcycle!<br />
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Of course my Grandma Vida would have just called it practical Her motto was:<br />
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Grandma and her entire generation already had the wisdom of upcycle, green products, and conservation. Worn out shirts were "upcycled" into quilts. Canning jars were washed, saved and "recycled" every year. Buttons were clipped off shirts and stored in a jar. Aluminum foil was smoothed out and reused. And "vintage" furniture was passed on to anyone in need. </div>
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Maybe, just maybe, much of what we need to know about conservation, we should have learned from our grandparents. </div>
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Of course I'm going to keep doing my part to keep the planet "green". The "upcycle" house will be outfitted with sustainable bamboo floors, and earth friendly insulation. My garden will continue to be nurtured with "recycled" compost and the shower heads will still be water misers.</div>
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But what's new is I will now be labeling my jewelry creations in my etsy shop with the hip new word, "upcycled jewelry". Who knew I was so cool?</div>
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And if you want to take a look at more of my "upcycle" creations - visit the Sugarberry Home etsy shop!</div>
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<em><a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/SugarberryHome?ref=exp_listing">http://www.etsy.com/shop/SugarberryHome?ref=exp_listing</a></em></div>
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Stephanie Bearcehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14014743232206545023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5588361143263759215.post-30887102988748620802012-11-26T11:39:00.000-08:002012-11-26T11:40:16.838-08:00All I want for Christmas is...BOOKS!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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When I was eleven I had the best Christmas ever. I got a set of five Nancy Drew books, two Trixie Beldon books, and Madeline L'Engle's A Wrinkle in Time. I was in reading heaven!<br />
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I spent most of January curled up by the fireplace with my nose firmly planted in a book. Of course that was probably no different than any other winter. I have always been a voracious reader and my night stand is often piled high with magazines, books, and articles to read. And now that I have a kindle...oh my goodness - what a great invention for readers!<br />
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The top of my gift list is always something from the bookstore. I do love reading on my Kindle. It is much easier to pack ten books on my Kindle than ten physical books, but I still love the feel and look of regular print books. And books rich in illustration are still best viewed in print version. At lease in my humble opinion.<br />
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So for all of you readers out there - here are some books to add to your gift list. You will enjoy receiving or giving every one of these great stories.<br />
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First on my list is <em><strong>Postcards of St. Charles</strong></em>. For anyone who lives in the St. Charles area, this is a wonderful Christmas gift. Arcadia Publishing is known for their amazing photographic histories of American towns and Valerie Battle Kienzle does a fantastic job bringing historic St. Charles to life. I am of course excited because Valerie is a friend of mine, but friend or not - this is a great book!<br />
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I adore mysteries, especially series mysteries. Once I meet a set of characters I want to visit with them again and again. Blame it on Trixie and Nancy. Two series that I have fallen in love with this year are <em>Her Royal Spyness</em> by Rhys Bowen and <em>The Bibliophile Mysteries</em> by Kate Carlise. Very different settings, but both are great fun to read.<br />
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<em><strong>Her Royal Spyness</strong></em> stars Lady Victoria Georgiana Charlotte Eugenie, daughter to the Duke of Atholt and Rannoch and thirty-fourth in line for the throne of England. Unfortunately the title does not come with money. She is flat broke, along with the rest of London in the 1930's. Lady Georgie has to learn to make her way among the commoners and work for her tea and crumpets. Too bad there is a dead count in the bathtub and her brother is accused of murder! This book is a great combination of mystery and comedy with plenty of fun royal antics.<br />
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<em><strong>Homicide in Hardcover</strong></em> is set in modern San Francisco where book restorer, Brooklyn Wainwright saves rare books from mold, mildew, and greedy thieves. She gets more help than she wants from her hippie new age parents and not enough attention from the cute security agent, but Brooklyn still manages to solve the mysteries and save her beloved books. I not only enjoy the mysteries in these novels but I also like learning about the art of bookbinding and book making. Lots of great details about rare books!<br />
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Besides Mysteries I also like fantasy books. Yes, I am a Tolkien fan. And I really enjoy some of the new fantasy books like the <em><strong>Goblin Wars</strong></em> by Kersten Hamilton. I know - the goblin wars sounds kind of gross, like zombie wars or something. But it's not! Hamilton uses the old myths and legends of Ireland to create a totally different kind of fantasy world of high born goblins and the underworld of Mag Mell. It is one of the most unique fantasy books I have read. And there's not a single vampire to be found!<br />
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If you have children on your Christmas list, I must plug my favorite authors who also happen to be members of my writing critique group.<br />
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For a great Young Adult novel try Kristin Nitz's,<em><strong> Suspect</strong></em>. Set in Missouri wine country, this homegrown mystery has enough twists and turns to keep the most avid reader guessing.<br />
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<em><strong>Mama's Window</strong></em>, by Lynn Rubright, is a wonderful story of a boy's dream to fulfill his Mother's final wish for a stained glass window in their church. An uplifting story that is perfect for the holiday season.<br />
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A delightful non-fiction picture book is <em><strong>Out on the Prairie</strong></em> by Donna Bateman. Donna writes in perfect rhyme and does impeccable research. She spent her vacation on the Dakota prairie researching the animals for this book. It has starred reviews from Kirkus and is a must have for any child's library.<br />
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And for a great picture book mystery - that's right - a great mystery for little kids! Pick up a copy of Jeanie Ransom's <em><strong>What Really Happened to Humpty?</strong></em> You'll have a great time investigating with Joe Dumpty (Humpty's brother) and laughing at the eggs-ellent puns!<br />
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The best place to shop for all your gift book needs? The Main Street Bookstore in St. Charles. Owner Vicki Erwin and her fine staff will help you select great titles for even the toughest critic. <a href="http://www.mainstreetbooks.net/">www.mainstreetbooks.net</a><br />
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Merry Christmas and Happy reading to all!Stephanie Bearcehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14014743232206545023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5588361143263759215.post-13976786564590359212012-11-14T11:59:00.002-08:002012-11-14T12:18:08.891-08:00Everything Old Is New Again -- Lard, Rediscovered<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">By Valerie Battle Kienzle</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">What’s true of fashion trends often is true of food trends – wait long
enough and what was once popular will be popular again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Such is the case with lard.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-goEVoEHuCBo/UKPs8nsMExI/AAAAAAAAAus/lHOodCoER8A/s1600/The+Ogilvie+Place+&+Maxwell+Reunion+2008+061.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-goEVoEHuCBo/UKPs8nsMExI/AAAAAAAAAus/lHOodCoER8A/s320/The+Ogilvie+Place+&+Maxwell+Reunion+2008+061.jpg" width="320" /></a><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">By definition, lard is hog fat -- waste pig tissue that has been rendered
or processed into more useful products for human consumption.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sounds disgusting, but that’s what it is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And it’s been used in food preparation for
centuries.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Both of my grandmothers were Depression-era farm wives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their families raised hogs and each year slaughtered
a few in the cool days of fall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Cuts of
meat from the hogs were preserved or prepared and provided a source of protein
for their families in the months ahead. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JycdAPemooE/UKPu9beAn6I/AAAAAAAAAvM/uFKzCu5mD94/s1600/MH900215687.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JycdAPemooE/UKPu9beAn6I/AAAAAAAAAvM/uFKzCu5mD94/s200/MH900215687.JPG" width="200" /></a><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">In addition to providing hams, ribs, roasts, sausage and bacon, the
butchering of hogs resulted in a lot of leftover fat and waste tissues.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These leftovers were boiled in huge pots of water
over an open fire.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The rendered fat floated
to the top of the pot, was skimmed from the water surface and saved as
lard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The lard was then used in the
preparation of a variety of other foods, much like many of us today use shortening,
oils, butter or margarine.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Large coffee cans filled with lard were regular fixtures near both grandmas’
stoves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s a good thing I didn’t know
exactly what that creamy substance was until I was much older.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was a picky eater, and chances are I wouldn’t
have touched much of anything they prepared if I’d paid attention to how often
they dipped into those cans.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Sbq-UfX5y4M/UKPvN_JHqeI/AAAAAAAAAvc/AAXi1GbF50c/s1600/MH900401203.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Sbq-UfX5y4M/UKPvN_JHqeI/AAAAAAAAAvc/AAXi1GbF50c/s320/MH900401203.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s5MELJ1epRI/UKPvUjlYGkI/AAAAAAAAAvk/AsW_ovod2P4/s1600/MB900390770.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s5MELJ1epRI/UKPvUjlYGkI/AAAAAAAAAvk/AsW_ovod2P4/s1600/MB900390770.JPG" /></a><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Grandma Bettye was known throughout her rural community as an outstanding
cook.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Preparing large mid-day meals for
her family and farm hands was a daily activity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>People still talk about her light, flaky pie crusts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her secret ingredient?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lard.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Grandma Cleo served heaping bowls of vegetables grown in her own
garden.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were seasoned in such a way
that others often found difficult to duplicate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Her secret?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A big scoop of lard. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZOvM74Mimts/UKPtEisi_dI/AAAAAAAAAu0/FHzrlHtj82U/s1600/The+Ogilvie+Place+&+Maxwell+Reunion+2008+073.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZOvM74Mimts/UKPtEisi_dI/AAAAAAAAAu0/FHzrlHtj82U/s320/The+Ogilvie+Place+&+Maxwell+Reunion+2008+073.jpg" width="320" /></a><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Lard composition is mainly fats known as triglycerides.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>High triglyceride levels are considered a
health risk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That, along with concerns in
recent decades about high cholesterol levels and other dietary concerns, led to
a switch from lard to vegetable-based oils in cooking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Suddenly lard was viewed as unhealthy. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">However, in recent years American consumers have become concerned about the
health aspects of the trans fats found in partially hydrogenated vegetable
oils.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hydrogenation is a process where
an unsaturated oil such as corn oil has hydrogen added to it to cause the creation
of hydrogenated fats.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The fats become
more solid at room temperature.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then a
few experts recognized that unhydrogenated lard has no trans fat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It also has less cholesterol and saturated
fat than an equal portion of butter. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RGkkeWQqUmM/UKP2g4sd2pI/AAAAAAAAAwM/SG7lA-wt-Fs/s1600/Screen-shot-2012-06-05-at-11_12_36-PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RGkkeWQqUmM/UKP2g4sd2pI/AAAAAAAAAwM/SG7lA-wt-Fs/s320/Screen-shot-2012-06-05-at-11_12_36-PM.png" width="268" /></a><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">In addition, a few noted chefs publically acknowledged the positive
properties of lard in food preparation (sound familiar?).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This led to increased usage and popularity of
lard with food aficionados, or foodies, throughout the world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And now the use of lard in food preparation
is again accepted and applauded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The New York Times</i>, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Food & Wine</i> magazine, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Gourmet
</i>magazine and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Washington Examiner </i>recently
published stories praising the use of lard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>In addition, the editors of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Grit</i>
magazine and Ogden Publications, Inc., have released a book about lard called, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Lard: The Lost Art of Cooking with Your Grandmother’s Secret Ingredient.<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
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</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The December issue of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Southern
Living</i> magazine features an article about the art of frying foods.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It states that the secret of successful frying
is selecting the right oil, which includes some vegetable oils and, you guessed
it, LARD. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Obtaining lard today is much easier than it was in Grandma’s day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lard is available for purchase in most
groceries in blocks or in cans.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It can
be found alongside cooking oils. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jPQfQOiOoKs/UKPuW1lWHwI/AAAAAAAAAu8/IEm-hliEpRc/s1600/IMG00151-20110512-1336.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jPQfQOiOoKs/UKPuW1lWHwI/AAAAAAAAAu8/IEm-hliEpRc/s320/IMG00151-20110512-1336.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">So the grandmas were right!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This
product, which isn’t at all appetizing when you think about its composition, is
the latest trend in the food industry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Who knew??? <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5588361143263759215.post-21056717898394708942012-10-22T14:25:00.001-07:002012-10-22T14:26:56.724-07:00God is a Gardner<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm90pf7l4Vx-GIhgVfWgw3Fkb1BwQOc6Q9z9hHF8h_N38vLPha5An3kHwYmrQvtQ-nNw0QGEfFEKyDZEa8X2DVXNjFc9kB1YOcdM89yyQold17czNnqcVDrCyF6L6Z9BzljIKi8svfjYSa/s1600/DSC01501.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm90pf7l4Vx-GIhgVfWgw3Fkb1BwQOc6Q9z9hHF8h_N38vLPha5An3kHwYmrQvtQ-nNw0QGEfFEKyDZEa8X2DVXNjFc9kB1YOcdM89yyQold17czNnqcVDrCyF6L6Z9BzljIKi8svfjYSa/s320/DSC01501.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Some crazy employee at
Walmart just marked all the flower bulbs to 60% off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course I bought 100 bulbs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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Before I put away the
toilet paper and shampoo, (the real reason I went to the store) I was in the
garden planting my treasures.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was the
perfect day to think about spring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Bradford
Pear across the street is a deep crimson and my mums are glorious in their
purple and yellow flowers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The squirrels
are gathering up the walnuts in the back yard and I can see birds flocking on
the telephone wires.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Winter will be here
shortly.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-9VMqUKap2KkEaEeRuA8jdq2wiMQ4vfFVkI3hNqBda6nlkLq_gK17wn3bgGy-ttAUo4PAlPSNxUhhOy9DLVq_ExnbdFcPQPptxHp2Klt4HZLEIKzuvDsgM3EcVHBKkUE-MB-rlYfG3jLq/s1600/DSC01506.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-9VMqUKap2KkEaEeRuA8jdq2wiMQ4vfFVkI3hNqBda6nlkLq_gK17wn3bgGy-ttAUo4PAlPSNxUhhOy9DLVq_ExnbdFcPQPptxHp2Klt4HZLEIKzuvDsgM3EcVHBKkUE-MB-rlYfG3jLq/s320/DSC01506.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Winter is my least
favorite time of year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No flowers to
pick and ground too frozen to dig.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
miss sitting in my flower bed plucking weeds and enjoying the smell of wet
soil.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Planting bulbs is the perfect cure
for the soon to come winter blahs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
will keep peeking out my window, waiting for the first tips of green to poke
through the frosty soil.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then I will
know that warmer days are coming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Gardening can resume.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVatbQB_-2LOjmZoCCgVdxqvtYK_TK1woenQqaYc2TBINI-_-Tk1-Pl3Iwo8_Jh2Hof1qeHMmZVDF_4DWJDnI0LkrpUxy87uUSVglE8SnOrw5NWbNoln7_fFZYJBCMHqnhQWtX6Ko45qL1/s1600/DSC01502.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVatbQB_-2LOjmZoCCgVdxqvtYK_TK1woenQqaYc2TBINI-_-Tk1-Pl3Iwo8_Jh2Hof1qeHMmZVDF_4DWJDnI0LkrpUxy87uUSVglE8SnOrw5NWbNoln7_fFZYJBCMHqnhQWtX6Ko45qL1/s320/DSC01502.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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When I am gardening I learn
many analogies about God and how he takes care of us, and I learned another one
today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I purchased those bulbs knowing
full well that Darrell and I plan to put our house on the market early next
spring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If we are fortunate, I will not
be living in the house when those 100 bulbs burst from the ground.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why in the world would I plant 100 bulbs if I’m
not going to enjoy them?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJkuzP-AVFcPze_y6YKyLmvIpNyWNlO9xV6ls-nKYXj2yZEp6ERNdjltOxyVi0-wCpvhNeBSPUt4AgeBF3iJrBG6VeXdQAd6BwN-QWrJOcHnbKvFvGYnQfs-JVo38ggGTLdhCpFSA3vDSk/s1600/DSC01513.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJkuzP-AVFcPze_y6YKyLmvIpNyWNlO9xV6ls-nKYXj2yZEp6ERNdjltOxyVi0-wCpvhNeBSPUt4AgeBF3iJrBG6VeXdQAd6BwN-QWrJOcHnbKvFvGYnQfs-JVo38ggGTLdhCpFSA3vDSk/s320/DSC01513.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Because they are
beautiful.</div>
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I love gardening because
I can work with the beauty that God has created and build a little space that
showcases his handi-work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God has generously
created an entire universe of amazing sights, sounds, and smells.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I may never see the entire splendor of his
hands, but I know he created it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And more
important, God knows what He has created.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It is all to his glory whether we see the fruits of our labors in this
life or never.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmqicSWhTyojBcyh3cQiWHP863Xt8Cb22Y3lphAOHP79kSNSBdN6fgUNM1FwsVQEwnG2p2lfthF2GbSKS11e0UWIVOquxflkkFnFjQ1dzxFaNrlqDfE7SOQtQrOosab6WGCwflYoXUMbqd/s1600/DSC01507.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmqicSWhTyojBcyh3cQiWHP863Xt8Cb22Y3lphAOHP79kSNSBdN6fgUNM1FwsVQEwnG2p2lfthF2GbSKS11e0UWIVOquxflkkFnFjQ1dzxFaNrlqDfE7SOQtQrOosab6WGCwflYoXUMbqd/s320/DSC01507.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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I hope I will remember to
try to create little spots of beauty in the lives of the people I meet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I want to plant seed of joy and hope.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">can</i>
garden in the winter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My soil may just
have to be the souls around me.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
Stephanie Bearcehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14014743232206545023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5588361143263759215.post-35328945222525945512012-10-17T13:03:00.000-07:002012-10-17T13:03:55.342-07:00A Simple Country Wedding<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">By Valerie Battle Kienzle</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"></span> </div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-f2GovxssiEE/UH8HdwlTsdI/AAAAAAAAAsg/TW-TzDl2uow/s1600/029.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-f2GovxssiEE/UH8HdwlTsdI/AAAAAAAAAsg/TW-TzDl2uow/s200/029.JPG" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">It’s 2012, and the WEDDING concept has changed since I
got married in 1980.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Weddings can be as
simple, extravagant or unique as the two individuals whose lives are being
joined together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gone are the days of
the must-haves – the engraved invitations and the matchy-matchy bridesmaids’
dresses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The possibilities today are
endless.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0SkmIYtqbOk/UH8HAGJwHGI/AAAAAAAAAsU/Nwoc4JB1GKE/s1600/005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0SkmIYtqbOk/UH8HAGJwHGI/AAAAAAAAAsU/Nwoc4JB1GKE/s200/005.JPG" width="150" /></a><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Destination weddings, beach weddings and outdoor weddings
are popular alternatives to formal ceremonies and sit-down dinner receptions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A woman I know recently wed on the concrete deck
surrounding a large swimming pool.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After
the vows were exchanged, the bride, groom and most of the guests jumped into
the pool fully clothed, and the celebration began.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8erzrpUtmb4/UH8Ji1hOooI/AAAAAAAAAtU/fG-Zvh80GWE/s1600/120.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8erzrpUtmb4/UH8Ji1hOooI/AAAAAAAAAtU/fG-Zvh80GWE/s200/120.JPG" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Recently my brother Rob and girlfriend Julie wed in what
could be described as a tasteful Southern country wedding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like their personalities, theirs was a unique
celebration of the melding of their lives. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8tpGGD1cuWY/UH8J5KzltMI/AAAAAAAAAtg/O8Ykv2H30xU/s1600/149.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8tpGGD1cuWY/UH8J5KzltMI/AAAAAAAAAtg/O8Ykv2H30xU/s200/149.JPG" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Technology brought them together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After various failed relationships, they met
two years ago through match.com.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When
they decided to publicly commit themselves to one another, they wanted to
create a memorable experience – and they succeeded.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The couple exchanged rings and vows they wrote on the
porch steps of a tiny renovated log cabin located on family property in Middle
Tennessee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The rays of the setting sun
illuminated their faces like a soft spotlight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The bride wore a beige mid-calf dress.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She carried a bouquet of flowers picked from her own garden.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The groom wore a black vest and pants.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Both wore cowboy boots. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-t2fOoOrRXlc/UH8LmSzI-rI/AAAAAAAAAuM/O-pKUN86H1s/s1600/150.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-t2fOoOrRXlc/UH8LmSzI-rI/AAAAAAAAAuM/O-pKUN86H1s/s200/150.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Guests sat on bales of hay topped with lengths of white
linen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The bales were arranged in semi-circle
rows around the cabin’s porch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their
couple’s parents witnessed the simple ceremony from handmade wooden rocking
chairs under a nearby tree.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-waMoSgVLOZw/UH8HpFJMTHI/AAAAAAAAAso/JbrPQ8bC0zQ/s1600/10.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-waMoSgVLOZw/UH8HpFJMTHI/AAAAAAAAAso/JbrPQ8bC0zQ/s200/10.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-I3yGuJ6IcZM/UH8JY5IZ_8I/AAAAAAAAAtM/G9ks3OWDQno/s1600/111.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-I3yGuJ6IcZM/UH8JY5IZ_8I/AAAAAAAAAtM/G9ks3OWDQno/s200/111.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5gfstv0VOk0/UH8Ko_jfjgI/AAAAAAAAAtw/z8YV0GpLEeo/s1600/083.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5gfstv0VOk0/UH8Ko_jfjgI/AAAAAAAAAtw/z8YV0GpLEeo/s200/083.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eZy6P8-6V9E/UH8H94_lIsI/AAAAAAAAAsw/7rbcmow_qmg/s1600/069.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eZy6P8-6V9E/UH8H94_lIsI/AAAAAAAAAsw/7rbcmow_qmg/s200/069.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IvjuRmBNTCQ/UH8IPQRFcUI/AAAAAAAAAs4/vQIT4jBGpIA/s1600/067.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IvjuRmBNTCQ/UH8IPQRFcUI/AAAAAAAAAs4/vQIT4jBGpIA/s200/067.JPG" width="150" /></a><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Following the exchanging of vows, guests helped
themselves to beverages iced down in an old bathtub or served from a table make
of a repurposed barn door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bottled water
was available in the front-end scoop of a circa 1950 red tractor.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-G28f82B4bUM/UH8LDo34hzI/AAAAAAAAAt8/OqitdEUCtDw/s1600/059.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-G28f82B4bUM/UH8LDo34hzI/AAAAAAAAAt8/OqitdEUCtDw/s200/059.JPG" width="150" /></a><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Forget crystal and wine glasses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Guests drank from Mason jars.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Appetizers were served from old 33RPM vinyl
albums heated and shaped in bowls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Small
tables were made from lace-topped repurposed wooden barrels obtained from a
Kentucky distillery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The tables were
accented with Mason jars filled with more flowers from the bride’s garden.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9fNS8UcckrM/UH8LQgpGoTI/AAAAAAAAAuE/7JgImFJHD6c/s1600/066.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9fNS8UcckrM/UH8LQgpGoTI/AAAAAAAAAuE/7JgImFJHD6c/s200/066.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NwaRWqaVD1A/UH8KO24f_CI/AAAAAAAAAto/lhrSt8G0-mo/s1600/158.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NwaRWqaVD1A/UH8KO24f_CI/AAAAAAAAAto/lhrSt8G0-mo/s200/158.JPG" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Guests dined on a Southern barbeque dinner with all the
fixings – smoked brisket, cowboy beans, potato salad, slaw and broccoli salad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The wedding cake consisted of a small
flower-topped chocolate cake baked by a friend of the bride and three trays of
flavored cupcakes made by the bride.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The music of Johnny Cash and other traditional country
music legends, plus a dose of classic rock, played in the background.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Strands of tiny white lights provided a soft
ambiance in the yard near the cabin. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Many of those in attendance agreed that this was one of
the simplest – and most beautiful <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>-- weddings
they’d attended.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s amazing what can
be done with a small amount of money and a large dose of creativity! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--rMr_hq8dio/UH8IyrCw2zI/AAAAAAAAAtE/erkYEUopaAY/s1600/090.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--rMr_hq8dio/UH8IyrCw2zI/AAAAAAAAAtE/erkYEUopaAY/s200/090.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
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Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5588361143263759215.post-1088932588193967082012-09-20T13:44:00.000-07:002012-09-20T13:47:09.338-07:00A Different Look at New York City<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">By Valerie Battle Kienzle<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wuFg3HwJYO4/UEd8OkGQWvI/AAAAAAAAApU/qg_9iCQAtdY/s1600/018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wuFg3HwJYO4/UEd8OkGQWvI/AAAAAAAAApU/qg_9iCQAtdY/s200/018.JPG" width="150" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xu2caImkb_E/UEd72T28q1I/AAAAAAAAApM/z9TwWWXG_tk/s1600/004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xu2caImkb_E/UEd72T28q1I/AAAAAAAAApM/z9TwWWXG_tk/s200/004.JPG" width="150" /></a><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Last month friend Stephanie and I traveled with our
college-age daughters to New York City.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Sporting comfortable walking shoes and cross body purses, we looked like
thousands of other tourists who’d traveled there from all parts of the
world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were anxious to experience the
city that never sleeps.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lMv7qU0yfns/UEd9jcC7v0I/AAAAAAAAApo/bBFbMvxvoes/s1600/058.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lMv7qU0yfns/UEd9jcC7v0I/AAAAAAAAApo/bBFbMvxvoes/s200/058.JPG" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Thanks to Hotels.com, we secured a room at the famous
Waldorf-Astoria Hotel for a reasonable (by NYC standards) rate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We wanted that “grand hotel” experience; it
was that and more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We spent time just
wandering through the hallways and ballrooms, carefully studying framed
photographs of historic events that have taken place there through the years.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YSBL7g4K9SA/UEd8_90ZtyI/AAAAAAAAApc/OEadjZxmWEc/s1600/037.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YSBL7g4K9SA/UEd8_90ZtyI/AAAAAAAAApc/OEadjZxmWEc/s200/037.JPG" width="150" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">We had dinner in Times Square on a Friday night
(unbelievably crowded), saw “The Lion King” on Broadway (amazing costumes and
choreography), roamed through Central Park on a Saturday (a beautiful oasis
among all the concrete), and wandered through So Ho, Chinatown, Coney Island
and The Guggenheim Museum (each could be described as a cultural experience).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QAud14qCFe4/UEd91wHwhFI/AAAAAAAAApw/UitQ5PV0mSM/s1600/097.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QAud14qCFe4/UEd91wHwhFI/AAAAAAAAApw/UitQ5PV0mSM/s200/097.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">We spent a somber Sunday morning at the World Trade
Center Memorial, where the names of the almost 3,000 people who died on
September 11, 2001, are engraved around two large fountains built where the
twin towers once stood.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kOyCHYxx4zc/UEd-chlfbGI/AAAAAAAAAp4/8WHwnPb003M/s1600/174.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kOyCHYxx4zc/UEd-chlfbGI/AAAAAAAAAp4/8WHwnPb003M/s200/174.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">We literally walked miles each day, heard an amazing
number of foreign languages (local lore says more than 200 languages are spoken
in the NYC area) and ate some incredible meals in places like Little Italy.</span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-crvBr2KeQmo/UFt7D6y31dI/AAAAAAAAAqw/5zBJOUM8Rfk/s1600/016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-crvBr2KeQmo/UFt7D6y31dI/AAAAAAAAAqw/5zBJOUM8Rfk/s200/016.JPG" width="150" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ywzWhAuI3-s/UFt7be8LMiI/AAAAAAAAAq4/G-VKdRwJdtc/s1600/169.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ywzWhAuI3-s/UFt7be8LMiI/AAAAAAAAAq4/G-VKdRwJdtc/s200/169.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UJ9wSX2gxCw/UFt6v678sDI/AAAAAAAAAqk/W4azQjPYbmk/s1600/146.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UJ9wSX2gxCw/UFt6v678sDI/AAAAAAAAAqk/W4azQjPYbmk/s200/146.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-x8hsW9pzLw8/UFt6WKyRoII/AAAAAAAAAqc/KUFq8lPrDKk/s1600/065.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-x8hsW9pzLw8/UFt6WKyRoII/AAAAAAAAAqc/KUFq8lPrDKk/s200/065.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QjisApO5UrE/UFt6EhoUmtI/AAAAAAAAAqU/rl88hesMUkc/s1600/137.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QjisApO5UrE/UFt6EhoUmtI/AAAAAAAAAqU/rl88hesMUkc/s200/137.JPG" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I’ve visited New York City many times.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve traveled up to the Empire State
Building’s observation deck for a bird’s-eye view of the city, and wandered
through the different neighborhoods, but for the first time ever I noticed the
Old World craftsmanship and architectural details to be found on so many
structures throughout the city.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"></span><br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JZMlQyqU414/UFt79PM7nhI/AAAAAAAAArA/59-q_kfnISU/s1600/150.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JZMlQyqU414/UFt79PM7nhI/AAAAAAAAArA/59-q_kfnISU/s200/150.JPG" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">By the
end of the trip, my traveling companions knew that if our foursome became a
threesome, I had stopped somewhere to take yet another photo of a gargoyle or
an Art Deco building.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They knew I’d soon
catch up with them.</span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">With childlike wonder, I wandered along sidewalks with my
eyes focused up, marveling at the creativity and talent of long-gone unnamed
artists. </span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EhOBjfAzzDg/UFt_bRSC9_I/AAAAAAAAAr8/2N8B7k68Vic/s1600/413.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EhOBjfAzzDg/UFt_bRSC9_I/AAAAAAAAAr8/2N8B7k68Vic/s200/413.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-389jcoJUkZg/UFt-23tiugI/AAAAAAAAArw/O7kMuzWXCcI/s1600/405.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-389jcoJUkZg/UFt-23tiugI/AAAAAAAAArw/O7kMuzWXCcI/s200/405.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pint8X_EfWo/UFt97EN49zI/AAAAAAAAArU/9A_UYb4UkaE/s1600/342.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pint8X_EfWo/UFt97EN49zI/AAAAAAAAArU/9A_UYb4UkaE/s200/342.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">So the next time you visit New York, or any older established city for that matter, take time to look up and around. The main tourist attractions aren't the only items of beauty and interest to be found. Thousands of nameless and faceless artists left their mark on urban America. Most of us just never take the time to notice and appreciate their work.</span></div>
Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5588361143263759215.post-19958414384876392442012-06-15T09:26:00.000-07:002012-06-15T09:26:08.135-07:00Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5588361143263759215.post-16770846071726335572012-06-15T09:23:00.001-07:002012-06-15T09:26:34.908-07:00On the Road Again...Sumertime Vacation Travel<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PSG6MyAoQjI/T9taq4bg-JI/AAAAAAAAAl0/nvRkuxx0f5s/s1600/Easter+%2526+April+2011+061.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PSG6MyAoQjI/T9taq4bg-JI/AAAAAAAAAl0/nvRkuxx0f5s/s320/Easter+%2526+April+2011+061.jpg" width="240" /></a><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I love to travel!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Whether it’s across the state, across the country or to another part of
the world, I love to GO.<o:p></o:p></span>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I suppose I come by this wanderlust quite naturally.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I grew up in a home where each year my
travel-loving mother meticulously planned our family vacations months in
advance of the actual departure date.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The build-up was so intense that by the time we loaded the car and
pulled out of the driveway, I could hardly contain my excitement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Growing up, summer meant hitting the road
with family and a AAA road map as soon as the school doors closed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aRZbl-fb95o/T9td2GYOOYI/AAAAAAAAAmk/lH4gMMaTVvc/s1600/65photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aRZbl-fb95o/T9td2GYOOYI/AAAAAAAAAmk/lH4gMMaTVvc/s320/65photo.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Travel still excites me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And when it comes to vacations, I’m like a child.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love to see new sites, to visit places and
to meet people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m like a sponge – I want
to absorb and to understand the differences and similarities I share with those
who live in the places I visit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The food,
the language.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The landscape, the
architecture and the local flavor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
sights, sounds and attitudes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I enjoy
observing how people from other parts of the country or world live, knowing
that while we have many differences, we watch the same sun rise and set.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Last summer I traveled through Europe, seeing sights I’d
only read about or heard described on The Travel Channel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The magnificent architecture and works of art
crafted by nameless people hundreds of years ago took my breath away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was visiting places where world history had
been made – London, the English Channel, Belgium, Germany, France, Switzerland
and the Alps, Austria and my favorite, Italy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">This year I will spend time enjoying the water and varied
outdoor activities found at Lake of the Ozarks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Fresh air, sunshine, shady woods, swimming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Beautiful sunsets, laughter shared and
memories made with family and friends.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Then I’ll travel to Middle Tennessee to attend my brother’s
wedding on the front porch of a tiny restored log cabin on the family
farm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He and I are the seventh
generation of our family to share ownership of this tranquil and beautiful
slice of rural paradise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There’ll be
lots of hugs, laughter and great food.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V24LW6rhnv4/T9tdagvG8BI/AAAAAAAAAmM/NxaEN7-9cRU/s1600/cphoto.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V24LW6rhnv4/T9tdagvG8BI/AAAAAAAAAmM/NxaEN7-9cRU/s320/cphoto.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Finally, my daughter and I will travel with friend
Stephanie and her daughter to New York City.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Our girls have grown up together, and at ages 20 and 21, are on the
threshold of careers and their adult lives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The four of us have traveled together several times, but this may be our
last chance to do so before the girls move on with their lives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’ll giggle, put miles on our athletic
shoes, take hundreds of photos and probably shed a few tears.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">We’ll visit the usual tourist places like the Empire
State Building, Coney Island and Broadway, but we’ll also make a somber visit
to the memorial built on the site of The World Trade Center.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qeum5emuMRM/T9tdQ_qvBxI/AAAAAAAAAmE/HYViQ2ySPW4/s1600/9photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qeum5emuMRM/T9tdQ_qvBxI/AAAAAAAAAmE/HYViQ2ySPW4/s1600/9photo.JPG" /></a><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">So this summer I’ll soak up the travel memories like a
new sponge in water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ll cherish the
special moments spent with family and friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Whether your travel plans include a cross-country adventure or a jaunt
across town, I wish you safe travels and many memorable moments.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As the words to a song from the 1970s stated,
“We may never pass this way again.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5588361143263759215.post-64472757323351439062012-05-22T16:05:00.003-07:002012-05-22T16:06:51.587-07:00Button, button, who's got the button? I DO!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl1a7kKBg1dOCZ-buOuLu2RTrqcb14XdLbwZQ5ohPlP8GJnlxPWkHRBYP5UL4OadTVbktNT92SM6KIJQWtifQScVB2IpxNWtlf_xVos-4OqYAJcbz_y61ntz6FSCvpujTidt1UemslPMRK/s1600/036.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl1a7kKBg1dOCZ-buOuLu2RTrqcb14XdLbwZQ5ohPlP8GJnlxPWkHRBYP5UL4OadTVbktNT92SM6KIJQWtifQScVB2IpxNWtlf_xVos-4OqYAJcbz_y61ntz6FSCvpujTidt1UemslPMRK/s320/036.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
When I was a little girl, I loved playing with Grandma's
button box.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was an old candy tin that
once held Christmas ribbon candy, but by the time I was six or seven, the candy
was long gone and it was stuffed full of brightly colored buttons.<br />
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<o:p></o:p>Grandma and Grandpa lived just a few yards from my house so
I often spent the afternoon playing at Grandma's.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I happened to arrive at the same time as
her favorite soap opera, "As the World Turns," Grandma always let me
get out the buttons and play.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8V-RqpG_Pr9wSEizAcWv_3l_wkddqJyx-3gn0NuWBV8Oy5LxZe-AFGVyDQE_ZTp3suTG9JM995DCY7oQLxJ6xxyy63up3H6QYDEqPWKMnXWnPqZWAZhTidXcKvxdd_hYyfS5WK6mPX6Sy/s1600/042.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8V-RqpG_Pr9wSEizAcWv_3l_wkddqJyx-3gn0NuWBV8Oy5LxZe-AFGVyDQE_ZTp3suTG9JM995DCY7oQLxJ6xxyy63up3H6QYDEqPWKMnXWnPqZWAZhTidXcKvxdd_hYyfS5WK6mPX6Sy/s320/042.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<o:p></o:p>A consummate taxonomist, I loved to sort and categorize the
buttons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I arranged them by color, size,
and value.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course the value was
determined by my seven year-old mind, so that meant the best buttons were
anything that had<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>jewels, sparkles, or
were red.</div>
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The buttons all arrived in the box the same way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whenever a garment was headed for the rag
bag, Grandma would first remove all the buttons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course that meant most of the buttons in
the box were the boring brown buttons from the front of Grandpa's work
shirts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPQp57zOpugSTZ5UAypcil5mHmXsf18oyxt67hOQe8WcN7WA7g5QhNqa4mwvmEX3uekCqttKVV-q6C4cEfhH-mDkkbzKwfUzMxlr3O4fFlFfrFtKcauiz-_olB19Jw6Fqd_bVYsdPRJG8U/s1600/040.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPQp57zOpugSTZ5UAypcil5mHmXsf18oyxt67hOQe8WcN7WA7g5QhNqa4mwvmEX3uekCqttKVV-q6C4cEfhH-mDkkbzKwfUzMxlr3O4fFlFfrFtKcauiz-_olB19Jw6Fqd_bVYsdPRJG8U/s320/040.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Fortunately for me someone in
the family also wore out their party dresses and black mourning clothes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That meant there were lovely jet black glass
beads and luminescent pink pearl buttons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And some fortunate relative must have owned a lovely red dress that once
had red buttons with glass jeweled centers.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEF1zXRzmxXfYlZh33Ku62USiADsIjulgTSEAoEGhD4F5ppXzcOOZ5a_zkwfiArywPVeUhSu56YAoQgRHn9cmHHxl43mKlLfxn5h-57veV0lWtRqN3jbkeeET4mk729SYbVibohzCoO98v/s1600/076.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEF1zXRzmxXfYlZh33Ku62USiADsIjulgTSEAoEGhD4F5ppXzcOOZ5a_zkwfiArywPVeUhSu56YAoQgRHn9cmHHxl43mKlLfxn5h-57veV0lWtRqN3jbkeeET4mk729SYbVibohzCoO98v/s320/076.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<o:p> </o:p>Grandma's button box was such a fond memory that I had to
have my own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But my button collection
isn't hidden in a candy tin, it is displayed in glass jars in my office.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few of the buttons in my collection come
from worn out shirts, but in these days of t-shirts and zippers, the bulk of my
collection is from local antique shops.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFkQA8JQblNHZY-c3sbOApPtVBpNNO94R9716dE2kZJcKsUdp-YD6nO8SGvLfTwLkp00QM4JHFTV_W3XDgSH4ZIVUEgBA38WKWSPdn1BGoiEpgfRntjNX4nUlghgI8LoKWZ10_uxO3r6Cl/s1600/054.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFkQA8JQblNHZY-c3sbOApPtVBpNNO94R9716dE2kZJcKsUdp-YD6nO8SGvLfTwLkp00QM4JHFTV_W3XDgSH4ZIVUEgBA38WKWSPdn1BGoiEpgfRntjNX4nUlghgI8LoKWZ10_uxO3r6Cl/s320/054.JPG" width="240" /></a>My favorite are the Mother-of-Pearl buttons from the
1800's.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Millions of buttons were cut
from oyster and abalone shells and sewn on shirts, skirts, collars, and cuffs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Large silver dollar size buttons decorated
coats and jackets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdvrgO1GMHfKTTbfnDJZ4GF-93xEVgQmZlyYdG3lKBL6i6apodjxSS2i6OZDowu-cAzXFP38Tv4w_kNiSGqIw-c4PVn8Jolp2Z7T9v7_uaW1s6Ba7TF2KZXcI4qE7JWLsE5Qi-54ab-iNb/s1600/054.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdvrgO1GMHfKTTbfnDJZ4GF-93xEVgQmZlyYdG3lKBL6i6apodjxSS2i6OZDowu-cAzXFP38Tv4w_kNiSGqIw-c4PVn8Jolp2Z7T9v7_uaW1s6Ba7TF2KZXcI4qE7JWLsE5Qi-54ab-iNb/s320/054.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
I love the iridescent quality of the buttons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Each one has it's own character.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mother of pearl buttons are much heavier than
their plastic counterparts and literally cooler.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you hold a plastic button and a Mother-of <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Pearl</st1:city></st1:place> button to your cheek
the pearl button will feel cooler to the touch.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdcxZuFoLubO2c__1vQwuda0JOYLvlBHq33N1H5wuUiID9DMjER3KCpSpWOnH-xpSZ9t-zexwcGW9aKPFJHqwONvc3tWDKC7cLPHI-uUxikjKxVjOMBTIWuF2nMX58hkhBvJpU1gnmMVIA/s1600/033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdcxZuFoLubO2c__1vQwuda0JOYLvlBHq33N1H5wuUiID9DMjER3KCpSpWOnH-xpSZ9t-zexwcGW9aKPFJHqwONvc3tWDKC7cLPHI-uUxikjKxVjOMBTIWuF2nMX58hkhBvJpU1gnmMVIA/s320/033.JPG" width="320" /></a>Of course there are lots of wonderful ways to use buttons in
crafts. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From traditional ornamentation
of clothing and hats to the now popular button jewelry. You can let your
imagination run wild.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHhd3MLno5S2Dc1DNPGtBAhECdY-8SdsttHyOY1EjcjAqS8egvv39xnRVSwy2X4vkR-pyrdb_ooAUs52txAwfNXE5XIUhcAiqFD70rOLVzWS4CmZlhxm89W3K0o8qwHV-nAip1jBHB6O1q/s1600/The%2520little%2520ones.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHhd3MLno5S2Dc1DNPGtBAhECdY-8SdsttHyOY1EjcjAqS8egvv39xnRVSwy2X4vkR-pyrdb_ooAUs52txAwfNXE5XIUhcAiqFD70rOLVzWS4CmZlhxm89W3K0o8qwHV-nAip1jBHB6O1q/s320/The%2520little%2520ones.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
So wild that you might even make an entire outfit out of the
tiny gems.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Pearly Society of London
carries on a 125 year-old tradition of clothing decorated with pearl
buttons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They wear these unique outfits
to raise money for charity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You can see
their pearly costumes at www.pearlysociety.co.uk.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3DHw5oU_FOrcqYN2dC37GbxuJajPgyWVuf2DVKS9LTY2m2KK1Rz1yUEOCpGs7YJ_UTFP9kIL4kPteRs1RiyzgWLAjxXZvavlI7uofUqf70TZ4CTf4lGB7TEcfTPyBpvJDBVMCpivrAtXv/s1600/043.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3DHw5oU_FOrcqYN2dC37GbxuJajPgyWVuf2DVKS9LTY2m2KK1Rz1yUEOCpGs7YJ_UTFP9kIL4kPteRs1RiyzgWLAjxXZvavlI7uofUqf70TZ4CTf4lGB7TEcfTPyBpvJDBVMCpivrAtXv/s320/043.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
But me - I still like to play with my buttons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Occasionally my husband will poke his head in
my office and see me sitting surrounded with a pile of pearly circles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<o:p> </o:p>"How many times have you sorted those?"<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He asks.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5NZ4FujEVQzS_PzJzDRb9XbtKFDX2ZSs7lohnNkIMkE6ucC1xQnJ8WWlHjvEmkRHWtNrQds7y-WO_TgUB36Zb1-VA6bSLnTaZqJ_JqpfMv3EJA-NLyCfUIJbIugsAkuDntO1d1vfkK-Ia/s1600/079.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5NZ4FujEVQzS_PzJzDRb9XbtKFDX2ZSs7lohnNkIMkE6ucC1xQnJ8WWlHjvEmkRHWtNrQds7y-WO_TgUB36Zb1-VA6bSLnTaZqJ_JqpfMv3EJA-NLyCfUIJbIugsAkuDntO1d1vfkK-Ia/s320/079.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<o:p> </o:p>I don't even bother to answer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Who knows how many times I've sorted through
my treasure trove?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All I know is - I
love my buttons.</div>
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<br /></div>Stephanie Bearcehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14014743232206545023noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5588361143263759215.post-2046427264388396692012-05-21T09:14:00.000-07:002012-05-21T09:14:00.704-07:00Saying Good-bye to an Old Friend<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-l2nX3nHc51A/T7pe1iwIZEI/AAAAAAAAAjk/keX01jeaOdg/s1600/1photo.JPG" /> <span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">We signed the papers and the “For Sale” sign appeared in
the front yard the next day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The sign’s
presence makes me happy -- and sad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
reminds me of many good times in the past, and also of good things to
come.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Earlier this year, we decided it was time to move.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’ve lived in the same house for 27 years,
having it built to our specifications when we were 20-somthings with a dog, no
kids, and our whole lives ahead of us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Through the years, we’ve maintained, updated, raised two
children and numerous pets, renovated, and landscaped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’ve celebrated new beginnings, bid fond
farewells, and hosted countless birthdays, holiday meals, Scout meetings, and
sleepovers within the house’s walls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In
return, our house has provided us with shelter during storms and a comfortable
place to live and just BE.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">And with the sign’s arrival began the process of
de-personalizing our home and preparing it to be marketed in the sluggish
housing market.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wallpaper?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Get rid of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Paint everything neutral.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Family photographs and knick-knacks?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Remove them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It’s hard for potential buyers to visualize themselves in a home if it’s
filled to the rafters with someone else’s stuff.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Those little fix-it projects that got put
off?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do them NOW.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most people don’t want to buy somebody’s
problems.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our local hardware store and a
nearby Lowe’s store have become frequent stops.<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ptqUK1lUqRg/T7pfTE19_qI/AAAAAAAAAjs/koenyF-tIQQ/s1600/001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ptqUK1lUqRg/T7pfTE19_qI/AAAAAAAAAjs/koenyF-tIQQ/s320/001.JPG" width="320" /></a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">At our realtor’s suggestion, we decided to continue
living here until the house sells.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So
after removing boxes and bags of stuff and extra furniture, plus deep cleaning,
our old friend is “on the market.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
hardest part in all of this is keeping the place looking pristine and shiny
while it continues to house three people and two pets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’ve had realtors and potential buyers come
through (sometimes with just a few minutes’ notice), a deal that almost
happened but fell through at the last minute, and comments both positive and
negative.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">What I’ll miss the most is our back yard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When we took possession of the property in
1985, there was no “yard” – just a newly-graded section of dirt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In other words, we started with a blank
canvas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WL6Nxmab9HM/T7pfvZNrB0I/AAAAAAAAAj0/MPe1Vw8yULU/s1600/60photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WL6Nxmab9HM/T7pfvZNrB0I/AAAAAAAAAj0/MPe1Vw8yULU/s320/60photo.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Through the years, we planted, pruned, transplanted, and
divided countless plants, bushes, trees, and flowers. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I brought seedlings and plant cuttings from the
yard of my childhood home in Tennessee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I went to my mother’s farm and dug up buttercup bulbs that had been
planted by my great-grandmother in the early 1900s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Friends passed along herbs and various
perennials, which I promptly planted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The seasons passed and we developed a beautiful back yard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rh3t7qnJ9_I/T7pgwCNI9PI/AAAAAAAAAj8/1qn0HumPWzQ/s1600/85photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rh3t7qnJ9_I/T7pgwCNI9PI/AAAAAAAAAj8/1qn0HumPWzQ/s320/85photo.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">And with the plants and fauna came the wildlife.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was the raccoon our dog chased up a
maple tree.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> There was the duck that insisted on living beside our driveway for two years. <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-I-WyNgtQDak/T7plBB6KRXI/AAAAAAAAAkc/1jvKcziquBs/s1600/401.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-I-WyNgtQDak/T7plBB6KRXI/AAAAAAAAAkc/1jvKcziquBs/s320/401.JPG" width="320" /></a> </span>There were also turtles;
frogs; countless squirrels and rabbits; a family of skinks; many generations of
cardinals, mockingbirds, and swallows; a few moles; and even several small
snakes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In truth, the yard was never
really ours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We simply shared it with
the creatures already living there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">What we purchased and plan to move into is a 20-yearoldhome with “good bone structure,” but, like many of us of a certain age, in need
of somecosmetic updates and a little TLC.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It also has numerous mature trees and beautiful landscaping.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We met one of the sellers o the day we
closed the sale.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With tears in her eyes,
she told me of the many </span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">memories the house held for her and her family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I promised we’d take good care of it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cSjDbk6DrWA/T7pixRVX5SI/AAAAAAAAAkU/ce8XZfHlNgE/s1600/064.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cSjDbk6DrWA/T7pixRVX5SI/AAAAAAAAAkU/ce8XZfHlNgE/s320/064.JPG" width="320" /></a></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Z0p0fz5TIyo/T7phScFpzKI/AAAAAAAAAkE/h0dvJwDYAWI/s1600/9photo.JPG" /><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> As a sentimental plant lover, I’ve transplanted dozens of
bulbs, herbs, and seedlings from our current residence to the one we hope to
move into later this year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sadly, we
can’t take our beautiful apple trees with us, but we plan to plant some in our
new yard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On a positive note, our new
yard has two mature cherry trees that are loaded with tiny cherries.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Guess I’ll need to research cherry recipes
and add them to the collection of apple recipes! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I’ll no doubt shed a few tears when we finally move
everything from the old house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s
played an important role in our lives for more than a quarter century.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the same time, I’m anticipating making
many wonderful memories in our new home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>After all, change is part of life!<o:p></o:p></span></div>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5588361143263759215.post-48158694676724836322012-05-15T11:33:00.000-07:002012-05-15T11:33:46.620-07:00Using Gourds Creatively<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-M1pLmGVegBg/T7KgPNLQpMI/AAAAAAAAAjE/GbZR0mYwkRQ/s320/011.JPG" width="320" /><span style="font-family: Arial;">Today’s entrepreneurs have nothing on our ancestors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were resourceful and thrifty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Before the days of big-box stores or even
general merchandise stores, when they needed something to make life easier or
more comfortable, they figured out creative ways to use plentiful natural
resources found nearby.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">For many of us, our family trees are filled with simple,
hard-working individuals who came to this country with little more than the
clothes on their backs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They learned to
make-do with whatever resources they could find.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They’d probably be shocked by the amount of
“stuff” we have in our homes today – the rooms of furniture; the cabinets filled
with cups, plates and glasses; and the various appliances and gadgets.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I recently travelled to rural Middle Tennessee to visit my
mother.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She restored and lives in her
family’s ancestral home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Seven
generations of her family have found shelter inside the house’s walls, and each
generation has left its fingerprint on the place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Those generations also left behind various
household items and furnishings they found useful and essential for living
daily life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some folks might consider
these things junk; Mom and I consider them treasures.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They give us a peek into the lives of those
we only know by name and sometimes a faded Daguerre-type photo.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Included in all of this accumulated “stuff” are a variety of
dried and hollowed-out, long-neck gourds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Mom displays them in the kitchen alongside old cookware and household
items from other eras.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We figure they
were once used as dippers to scoop cool, refreshing water from the nearby
spring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Gourds are members of the Cucurbitaceae family and have been
grown and used or eaten throughout the world for thousands of years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Members of this family include squash,
cucumbers, melons, and pumpkins.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There
are numerous cucurbita, or ornamental gourd varieties, too, including ones with
long necks that make excellent dippers (like Mom’s) and wide ones with shorter
necks that make good bird houses for wrens or martins.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The key to obtaining useful ornamental gourds
lies in the drying-out process.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Gourds grow on vines from flowers that bear fruit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once they reach maturity after 100 to 180 warm-weather
days, their stems dry out and turn brown.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They are then ready to be harvested.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Gourds should be cut from the vine with a few inches of stem still
attached.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bruised or immature gourds or
ones with rotten or shriveled spots should be thrown away as they won’t dry or
cure properly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">To dry them, gourds should be placed in a dark,
well-ventilated area with space all around each piece to allow air
circulation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The drying process takes at
least four weeks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gourds are properly
cured when they are become light-weight and the seeds rattle inside.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At this point, they can be painted, coated,
or decorated.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Mom’s dipping gourds look to be very old and well-used.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their surfaces have been worn smooth (most
likely from much handling) and look and feel like thin wood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Countless people working the nearby farm land
probably welcomed the sight of the gourds and the cool water they held. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-y9AsFW9NNiE/T7KgwN186OI/AAAAAAAAAjM/uIIOv77hSCQ/s1600/018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-y9AsFW9NNiE/T7KgwN186OI/AAAAAAAAAjM/uIIOv77hSCQ/s320/018.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">On this same trip, I also found my grandmother’s old sewing
basket on an upstairs shelf.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course I
had to open it and examine the contents.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Among the many needles, pins, and wooden spools of thread were two tiny,
smooth gourds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instantly I remembered as
a child seeing my thrifty grandma pushing these gourds into Grandpa’s work
socks to repair a tear or a worn spot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She called them her “darning gourds” and said their shape helped her achieve
smoother repair seams that Grandpa would never feel on his sensitive feet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Today, artisans continue to find interesting and creative
ways to use gourds, including making bowls, small vases, and even lamp shades
with various sizes of dried gourds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Silver Dollar City in Branson, Missouri, features artisans who
specialize in creating unique handicrafts, including an artisan who makes
one-of-a-kind lamp shades from large gourds.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Some Amish communities produce and sell online numerous
varieties of clean, dried gourds for use in craft projects.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Several years ago, a neighbor purchased four dried
gourds and painted them white.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He cut a
single hole in each one and attached them to a tall pole in his back yard. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Each spring the swallows return to build their
nests inside the gourds, and each summer the birds zoom around our yards,
snagging mosquitoes to eat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This seems
like a healthier, more natural way to control unwanted pests. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Yes, people are capable of creativity and resourcefulness
with what can be found in nature.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I’m
guessing the amount of garbage and waste our ancestors generated was nothing
close to what people generate today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Imagine -- no plastic bottles and cups.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Who needed such when you had a natural drinking vessel growing in your
own garden?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5588361143263759215.post-17399634854248924392012-04-27T08:26:00.000-07:002012-04-27T08:26:30.886-07:00Shall We Dance???<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><strong><u><span style="font-size: x-large;">FORTNIGHTLY CLUB –</span></u></strong> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #6aa84f; font-size: large;">ADOLESCENT NIGHTMARE . . .</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;">OR SOCIAL ENRICHMENT
LESSON?<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #6aa84f;">Talk about overnight changes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I never saw them coming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In a few short months, I went from the
carefree days of sixth grade at a public school, playing in the neighborhood
creek, and riding my bike everywhere to prep school, dress code, car pools and
Fortnightly Club.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">
</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-myNvduJZML4/T5qylC4Kz8I/AAAAAAAAAiM/yi3N1a3R-oU/s1600/ecard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-myNvduJZML4/T5qylC4Kz8I/AAAAAAAAAiM/yi3N1a3R-oU/s320/ecard.jpg" width="190" /></span></a><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #6aa84f;">It was a different era.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>At that time in the 1960s/early 1970s, it was proper for Southern young
ladies and young men ages 12 and 13 to learn the accepted social behaviors of
the adult world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In addition to the
table manners, ma’ms, sirs, pleases and thank-yous we’d had drilled into us
since our toddler days, we learned to make introductions, to properly shake
hands, to attire ourselves for various social situations…and to ballroom dance.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #6aa84f;">For many of us, that boy-girl thing was pretty uncomfortable
at that age.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Throw into that the fact
that to ballroom dance you actually had to touch hands, shoulders and waists,
and the entire situation was awkward.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Really, REALLY awkward.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m
pretty sure our parents signed us up for this to torture us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And they were successful.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #6aa84f;">“It only meets every two weeks for about an hour, and many
of the kids from your new school will be going, too.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That didn’t sound so bad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then came the first Thursday night of
Fortnightly.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #6aa84f;">Fortnightly Club was held in the downstairs of what had been
an elegant brick mansion near downtown Nashville.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The owner taught ballet there for
decades.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She allowed another popular
children’s dance instructor, Eleanor Hankins “Hank” Fort, to use the facility
to teach ballroom dancing to ‘tweens.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #6aa84f;">I climbed the imposing steps to the brightly-lit house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The acrid smell of too many cats and not
enough clean litter hit me as I entered a large ballroom with hardwood floors
and mirrored walls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naturally, the girls
clustered together like twittering birds on one side of the room and the boys
huddled in the entry hall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Boys wore
dress shirts, ties and dress shoes; girls wore “nice” dresses and panty
hose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No mixing of the sexes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #6aa84f;">At precisely 7 p.m., we were instructed to form a circle of
boys and an outer circle of girls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Adding to the awkwardness was the fact that most of the girls towered
over the boys.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We then had to match up
with the nearest boy and were instructed how to (gasp!) properly place our
hands on one another in order to learn our first ballroom dance steps.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #6aa84f;">Hank Fort was a vivacious entertainer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She’d written songs that became mid-20th century
hits and had performed for U.S. presidents.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She stood in the center of the circle and demonstrated with much
enthusiasm the steps to be learned for the evening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her assistants roamed the floor to provide
assistance to those who simply didn’t get it or who were tempted to participate
with little enthusiasm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At Hank’s command,
we rotated partners, barely giving us time to wipe sweaty hands before taking
the clammy hand of the next partner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Did
I mention the word “torture.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #6aa84f;">Counting, as in counting steps in order to keep up with each
other was important.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So was not making a
big deal of getting toes stepped on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
happened often.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #6aa84f;">Finally, mercifully, the session would end.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kids scurred out the doors and down the steps
like it was the last day of school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Thankfully, this only had to be repeated every 14 days!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #6aa84f;">Torturous months passed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Somehow most of us mastered the box step, the fox trot and the
waltz.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then came the ultimate humbling
experience – the dance card.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In a
practice that must have been drawn from the Dark Ages, we were given dance
cards with 10 blank lines. The boys then
went around the room asking girls for a dance later in the evening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A boy signed his name on a line and then
returned the card to the girl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> The girl signed her name on the boy's card so he'd know who to look for for which dance. We</span> rotated partners as different songs were played.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Girls with blank lines on their cards faced
the humiliation of having to “sit out” a dance.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #6aa84f;">Such was my initiation into a Southern adolescent
ritual.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As the fortnights passed, the
atmosphere changed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We began to feel
more comfortable with the opposite sex, laughing when we made mistakes or
stepped on each other’s feet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #6aa84f;">Do I remember any of the dances steps?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Amazingly, some of them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I can pick out country songs with a waltz
beat after just a few riffs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #6aa84f;">Have I ever been in a situation where I needed to use such
formal skills? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Absolutely not!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is the girl who soon after completing
Fortnightly Club attended rock concerts by Led Zeppelin, The Rolling Stones and
Three Dog Night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: #6aa84f;">I once shared with my daughter my archaic ballroom dancing
experiences.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She rolled her eyes and
said, “Ewww, seriously?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Glad you never
tried to make me do that!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-y_l6Y1sSNS8/T5q2KE4_3XI/AAAAAAAAAiY/IwaPEUtsFD4/s1600/996433-209.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-y_l6Y1sSNS8/T5q2KE4_3XI/AAAAAAAAAiY/IwaPEUtsFD4/s320/996433-209.jpg" width="245" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5588361143263759215.post-69697363947588746372012-02-04T10:17:00.000-08:002012-02-04T10:32:20.459-08:00Just An Old Fruit Jar<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RLNkAkWopok/Ty14mx4BAgI/AAAAAAAAAhY/gp0XJl9_gOQ/s1600/Easter%2B%2526%2BApril%2B2011%2B068.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RLNkAkWopok/Ty14mx4BAgI/AAAAAAAAAhY/gp0XJl9_gOQ/s200/Easter%2B%2526%2BApril%2B2011%2B068.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705348910566932994" /></a>
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<br />We need food to survive. Throughout history, food – and a readily available supply of it – have been essential to the survival of civilizations.
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<br />The preservation of food for future consumption also has been essential for survival. Until the 19th century, preservation methods included using salt, smoke, sugar, and dehydration.
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<br />Then along came baker, brewer and chef Francois Nicholas Appert, who in 1810 determined that foods could be preserved and stored in air-tight glass containers for later consumption. Appert experimented with heating foods sealed in glass containers he designed. Something about the process of applying heat to the sealed foods kept them from spoiling. Appert had made a significant discovery. At that time the study of chemistry was in its infancy and the concepts of bacteria and pasteurization had yet to be pinpointed.
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<br />That same year Englishman Peter Durand discovered and patented the concept of preserving food in metal cans. Fruit, vegetables and meat could now be safely preserved and stored. These two discoveries changed the preservation of food, leading to the birth of a new industry.
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<br />Tin cans were patented in the United States in 1810, but were not used widespread until the 1830s. Various methods of sealing the containers were employed, including the use of wax, cork, and animal skin. Then in 1858 John Landis Mason designed and patented a zinc screw-on top to go with his pale blue-green, round-shouldered glass jars. Its introduction revolutionized food preservation in America. Many others have produced and distributed glass canning jars through the years, but none has become as famous as the Ball Corporation’s Mason jars.
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<br />Today Mason jars remain a favorite with people who preserve their own foods for later consumption. Economic conditions in the United States have led many, including those who’ve never set foot in a rural, agricultural environment, to grow and preserve their own foodstuffs. Now, as generations ago, many use Mason jars and the warm-water bath method perfected by Appert to safely preserve their food.
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<br />Mason jars were a familiar sight to those of us who grew up on farms or who visited relatives living on farms. Both of my grandmothers were Depression-era farm homemakers. They owned dozens of Mason jars. Each year they planted huge vegetable gardens and had cherry, apple, pear, and peach trees in their orchards. A peak into either grandma’s pantry or cellar house in the fall revealed neat rows of filled Mason jars, standing like soldiers in multi-colored uniforms. The jars of peaches always looked so fresh and sweet that they made my mouth water. The many jars of pickles, which included bread and butter pickles, pickled chow-chow relish, and dill pickles, filled an entire shelf.
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<br />But today Mason jars aren’t just used for storing produce. In recent years I’ve seen them used for other purposes, including as containers for seven-layer Mexican dip. A friend gifted me with a Mason jar filled with measured layers of the dry ingredients needed to make a batch of Cowboy Cookies. She layered brown and white sugar; oats; chocolate chips; and flour, baking soda and baking powder in a pale blue jar topped with a piece of bandana fabric and tied with twine. It was a fun, visually interesting gift.
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<br />A wedding rehearsal dinner I attended took place in a tent and had a country theme. Beverages were served in small Mason jars and the table centerpieces featured Mason jars with glowing pillar candles.
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<br />My brother recently found another use for old Mason jars. He drilled holes into the zinc tops of extra large jars, inserted small electric bulbs through the holes, and hung them as light fixtures on the porch of a rustic family log cabin. They look amazing and cast a warm glow at night.
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<br />Collectors of old Mason jars can still buy and sell reasonably priced examples. Shape, glass color and identifying marks are used to determine age and rarity. The most common color of Mason jars is the company’s trademark aqua blue. Colored jars were considered better for storing preserved food as they block some light and help foods retain flavor.
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<br />Mason jars remain popular. Ball Corporation makes more than 500,000 glass jars each day. I have several of Grandma’s old Mason jars at my house. One is filled with tiny glass fish and colored marbles and sits near a kitchen window. I like the way it looks when the sun shines through it. My practical-minded grandma would probably question my using an old canning jar as a decorative object, but to me it is beautiful and reminds me of two women who were important parts of my childhood.
<br />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5588361143263759215.post-51371791000227278032012-01-28T21:28:00.000-08:002012-01-28T21:28:51.826-08:00Organize with Style<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxAOS-qqMHAkcyENrrBs2I-X2LJQuA5hCXIAnCNjZydWA45265sCpVxDTkzrw1c0N_BwvJvTPTJ0O2AOMXcqIjf7LbqdWaj-07472AFFsJUfb7oz2QDB2TGQ8sY_n8ttyqvgOH67qYGKG4/s1600/P1090551.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxAOS-qqMHAkcyENrrBs2I-X2LJQuA5hCXIAnCNjZydWA45265sCpVxDTkzrw1c0N_BwvJvTPTJ0O2AOMXcqIjf7LbqdWaj-07472AFFsJUfb7oz2QDB2TGQ8sY_n8ttyqvgOH67qYGKG4/s320/P1090551.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Okay, every January I feel the need to become organized. I believe it is my once a year duty to clean up the clutter, pitch the piles of paper, and at least <em>try</em> to look efficient. Unfortunately cleaning is tedious and boring. In other words, I hate it. <br />
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This year I decided to trick myself into enjoying the cleaning. I would reward myself by using pretty folders and containers and best of all I would <em>make</em> them! Once I had filled the trash cans and reorganized the craft closet, I allowed myself the fun of creating colorful file folders and journals.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2q9UT6OdqVoSRHNcLjtUwM1Dq6VPFuBd693KTCuFy8m-lnnEkCuXLdwMtSz388UvxDvyfkK6EteiSLd5P1VDIXpGTgg7gSJC1Ca2wUrgjNRHPh353zWAWju8Jg5iwODSyTVn-eobFba1g/s1600/P1090591.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2q9UT6OdqVoSRHNcLjtUwM1Dq6VPFuBd693KTCuFy8m-lnnEkCuXLdwMtSz388UvxDvyfkK6EteiSLd5P1VDIXpGTgg7gSJC1Ca2wUrgjNRHPh353zWAWju8Jg5iwODSyTVn-eobFba1g/s320/P1090591.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Making the folders was easy. I used recycled file folders, (I grabbed them out of my husband's trash can.) rubber stamps, and copies of old postcards. Then I just had fun gluing and stamping until I made a collage that I liked. If you don't have copies of postcards, use pictures cut from old magazines. Now my "must do" folder looks so much prettier and less intimidating.<br />
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As a writer I go through dozens of journals a year jotting down ideas, plots, and of course the inevitable grocery list. This year I decided to decorate my own journals. Again, I used scraps of paper, photocopies of old postcards and pictures, stamps and stickers. The base of my journal is a standard composition book. The black binding gives a nice clean edge.<br />
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To finish off my notebook, I punched a hole in the edge of both the front and back covers. Then I looped ribbon through shank back buttons. Now I can tie up all my stories and lists in one tidy spot.<br />
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Overall I thought my creative cleaning was a success.<br />
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Now if I can just figure out some way to make laundry fun...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI14N2wf-h9x9dxBm_qK_lGe-ifIsWiuLhPRQXWGYBtxDBKb_nqBJ4YJbv9XuoiEFlUJFzAe0nke0MVmV1-fvm47w1-4CBugLjJib3aA_3WY4w1rIIuUITw4RqPCVSvFI4nSmoBpWQ4_5y/s1600/P1090532.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI14N2wf-h9x9dxBm_qK_lGe-ifIsWiuLhPRQXWGYBtxDBKb_nqBJ4YJbv9XuoiEFlUJFzAe0nke0MVmV1-fvm47w1-4CBugLjJib3aA_3WY4w1rIIuUITw4RqPCVSvFI4nSmoBpWQ4_5y/s320/P1090532.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Stephanie Bearcehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14014743232206545023noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5588361143263759215.post-90134438146753635932011-12-29T18:38:00.000-08:002011-12-29T18:38:05.308-08:00Party Perfection?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I love
parties.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love going to them, hosting
them, and planning them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There's nothing
more fun than getting a group of friends together and enjoying each other's
company.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Over the years I have hosted
everything from anniversary and birthday parties to formal teas and craft
nights.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And if I've learned one thing it
is this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There will be a disaster.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No matter how hard you plan, no matter how
early you start, something will go wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The dog
will puke on the carpet, your child will break his arm, and your husband will
eat half of the appetizers and say he was "just having a snack."
Disasters are a part of every party The truth is that behind every
"perfect" party is a hostess who knows how to laugh at herself, and
have fun in spite of the flooded toilet and the burnt lasagna.</div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"></span>My list of
party catastrophes is so long I can't remember them all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some of them I was able to hide from my
guests.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like the time my cocker spaniel
at a dozen cooked bratwurst.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was being
the perfect hostess and cooking everything ahead of time for a family
function.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Two dozen grilled bratwurst
sat on the kitchen counter when I heard screams from the front yard. By the
time I untangled the bike wreck, and bandaged two sets of knees, all that was left
of my bratwurst was an empty pan and one very sick little dog. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All it took to fix that little disaster was an
expensive trip to the vet and two dozen more bratwurst.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The party was great.</div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But
sometimes the calamity just can't be hidden.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Like if your teenage son burns pizza right before you have guests.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There's nothing more fun than welcoming
people to a smoke filled house with fire alarms shrieking overhead.</div>
The only
thing you can do is slap a smile on your face, pass out chips and dip, and talk
about how you love the fragrance of a campfire.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You can offer to spray your guests with air freshener but they usually
refuse.<br />
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The worst
is when the disaster occurs right in the middle of the party.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like the time I made great grandma's famous
brisket.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was so proud of myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I pulled that succulent plate of meat out of
the oven and proceeded to trip over one of the kids' toys.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The meat went flying, I went sprawling, and
my party ended up in the emergency room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Well, okay, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I</i> ended up in the
emergency room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No burns, just a
sprained ankle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By the time my crutches
and I hobbled home, the party was winding down and the guests had cleaned my
kitchen.</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRs2yedUH1uWAAdUqZXC-zeFvUHvjWVKJynSTzCTF2i3vgFU6mHag_3F1T3OOUV2S5QZwz9W1Gp-7tOkUJLkQ73QnFwY5xcreNfYxQThVEtSifg1fNWPeCqe7FqRlMRKh-6JXqV3N1Zxns/s1600/220px-NCI_Visuals_Food_Hamburger.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRs2yedUH1uWAAdUqZXC-zeFvUHvjWVKJynSTzCTF2i3vgFU6mHag_3F1T3OOUV2S5QZwz9W1Gp-7tOkUJLkQ73QnFwY5xcreNfYxQThVEtSifg1fNWPeCqe7FqRlMRKh-6JXqV3N1Zxns/s1600/220px-NCI_Visuals_Food_Hamburger.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The true
secret to surviving a party fiasco is the friends you choose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fortunately mine are forgiving and have a
sense of humor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can't imagine being a
social maven and worrying about serving the right kind of drinks or having the
perfect decorations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I try to get my
house clean.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes I make it and
sometimes only the bathrooms are pretty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My party decorations are guests' coats piled on the couch and the smiles
of my friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The best food?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is usually donated by one of the amazing
cooks I know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can BBQ and I serve a
mean cheeseburger, but urbane cuisine<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>will not be on my menu.</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRhHj6QsfPDrOxqyQEHywXxYiF4i9HBYRuFBlqysfaho7zKDVt3MNoUMOvHEwK_fkIN8JKpB6Gnaxvi_zaoT0PecxhWqcNSzHZ3p4E1Fk1m9EfBJDIwUlno45fDd9woQAlQ2tI5yNsNanE/s1600/220px-Scan-of-original-poster-1939-300px.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRhHj6QsfPDrOxqyQEHywXxYiF4i9HBYRuFBlqysfaho7zKDVt3MNoUMOvHEwK_fkIN8JKpB6Gnaxvi_zaoT0PecxhWqcNSzHZ3p4E1Fk1m9EfBJDIwUlno45fDd9woQAlQ2tI5yNsNanE/s320/220px-Scan-of-original-poster-1939-300px.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>My parties
aren't fancy or famous, but I still love them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I enjoy the chatter of friends and family and the laughter that echoes
in my memories.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The disasters become a
part of party legend and lore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> A</span>nd
me?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I say let's party more!</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>Stephanie Bearcehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14014743232206545023noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5588361143263759215.post-21766559561338919172011-12-15T14:43:00.000-08:002011-12-16T11:44:13.975-08:00All Sewed Up<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-keEEm-Lug4s/Tup9XfTS-MI/AAAAAAAAAfk/qSvJ_hvUoCY/s1600/sew1.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686495322001569986" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-keEEm-Lug4s/Tup9XfTS-MI/AAAAAAAAAfk/qSvJ_hvUoCY/s200/sew1.jpg" /></a>Sewing, as both an art form and an essential life skill, dates back thousands of years. Early sewing needles were made of animal bone. Thread was made of animal sinew.<br /><br />For centuries, hand-sewing was the means of holding pieces of animal skin, fur, and later fabric together to form clothing. And then things changed.<br /><br />In 1790, Englishman Thomas Saint obtained the first patent for a design for a machine for sewing. His idea was modified by others from France, Austria and Germany in the early 1800s. Then in 1818, John Knowles and John Adams Doge invented the first American sewing machine. Unfortuna<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_6wdQLcqJnM/Tup63R7Nz1I/AAAAAAAAAeQ/9xTmsbIJyOs/s1600/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B009.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686492569631838034" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_6wdQLcqJnM/Tup63R7Nz1I/AAAAAAAAAeQ/9xTmsbIJyOs/s200/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B009.jpg" /></a>tely, it stopped working before much fabric could be stitched.<br /><br />In 1830, a French tailor named Barthelemy Thimonnier developed a machine to produce chain stitching. Unfortunately, his invention angered his fellow tailors. They were afraid this new machine would put them out of jobs, so they burned his factory.<br /><br />American Walter Hunt built a sewing machine in 1834, but he, too, feared it would cause unemployment. He abandoned the idea.<br /><br />In 1846, the first American patent for a sewing machine was issued to Elias Howe. His machine combined thread from two sources and secured it through loops. <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1KIx411VUd8/Tup6r_FGiYI/AAAAAAAAAeE/2qeXdn6V_9U/s1600/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B004.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686492375594469762" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1KIx411VUd8/Tup6r_FGiYI/AAAAAAAAAeE/2qeXdn6V_9U/s200/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B004.jpg" /></a><br /><br />By this time, other inventors were introducing similar machines to the market. Isaac M. Singer was one of the inventors. He developed a dual thread-source machine that operated with an up-and-down mechanism and was powered by the pumping of a foot treadle similar to that of a spinning wheel. Earlier sewing machines used hand cranks.<br /><br />Singer and others were subsequently sued by Elias Howe for patent infringement and lost, but Singer continued to experiment with sewing machine development. In 1858, Singer abandoned the idea of producing industrial sewing machines (the industry didn’t seem to want them) and focused on producing a consumer sewing machine that could be used in the home. He received 20 additional patents, spent big bucks on advertising, and created a system that combined sales and service. Soon Singer was mass producing the machines and achieving commercial success.<br /><br />Singer, who trained as a machinist and cabinet-maker, put expensive price tags on his home sewing machines. He charged $75-$120 at a time when the average annual household income in America was about $500.00. He then introduced a new concept – installment-plan payments – and the sales of his sewing machines skyrocketed. He set up a corporate office and a manufacturing facility in New York City. Sales of his sewing machines in Europe made Singer Manufacturing Company an international entity, and the company continued to grow.<br /><br />By 1860, his company was the world’s largest manufacturer of sewing machines. He retired to Europe three years later – the same year his company sold more than 20,000 home sewing machines. Singer’s home sewing innovations saved time and changed the way average Americans sewed for their families. They were the first of many time-saving devices (like washing machines and vacuum cleaners) that changed the way Americans did household tasks.<br /><br />Time passed, and the price of home sewing machines dropped, but sewing machines were still <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Lc3uey_RTdI/Tup6DKqtlXI/AAAAAAAAAdI/BDAoxp8tDSs/s1600/Misc.%2BSugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B023.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686491674330371442" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Lc3uey_RTdI/Tup6DKqtlXI/AAAAAAAAAdI/BDAoxp8tDSs/s200/Misc.%2BSugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B023.jpg" /></a>viewed by many as a luxury item. Wage-earners were hesitant to invest such a large sum of money into sewing machines, but Singer was a marketing genius. In addition to offering installment payments, he had retailers do lots of hands-on demonstrations, plus he offered lessons with each machine sold.<br /><br />More than 170,000 machines were sold in 1870 – the year Singer’s red “S” trademark was introduced. In 1880, more than 500,000 machines were sold. Additional factories were opened throughout Europe and Canada, and new machine models were introduced. The company has now been in business for 160 years and has remained an innovator throughout its history -- even with the rise of competing companies and products.<br /><br />I thought about all of this recently as Christmas approached. In 1966, all I wanted for Christmas was a sewing machine. I’d watched Mom and Grandma make beautiful creations with their respective Singer sewing machines. My eight-year-old self wanted to be creative, too, and<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oYmklepZMQc/Tup7LCFxS8I/AAAAAAAAAeo/ZvPZks33Qzc/s1600/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B021.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686492908978523074" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oYmklepZMQc/Tup7LCFxS8I/AAAAAAAAAeo/ZvPZks33Qzc/s200/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B021.jpg" /></a> make clothes for my Barbie and Chatty Cathy dolls.<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ysUvetQo6hs/TuuYmAX76fI/AAAAAAAAAfw/03UUWs_SPZA/s1600/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B023.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686806733188229618" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ysUvetQo6hs/TuuYmAX76fI/AAAAAAAAAfw/03UUWs_SPZA/s200/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B023.jpg" /></a><br />I could hardly believe my eyes Christmas morning when I spotted a large yellow box under the Christmas tree with my name on it. I opened it carefully to find a small portable Singer sewing machine – a lot like Mom’s and just right for small hands. My interest in sewing began that day and continues today.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Hu6ZGYfHchU/TuuY_RlwZKI/AAAAAAAAAf8/ZJO5kkBoBcA/s1600/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B033.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686807167306327202" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Hu6ZGYfHchU/TuuY_RlwZKI/AAAAAAAAAf8/ZJO5kkBoBcA/s200/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B033.jpg" /></a>Through the years I took sewing lessons, became a regular at local fabric shops, and made everything from color guard clothing, purses and Cub Scout vests to bridesmaid dresses and Christmas ornaments. There’s just something extremely satisfying about creating with a needle and thread.<br /><br />As a young adult, I “inherited” a circa 1890 Singer sewing machine in a beautiful wooden cabinet – co<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0tz1Q5E026Q/Tup6KTSKFlI/AAAAAAAAAdU/WzCIQ7cnAjg/s1600/Misc.%2BSugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B024.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686491796902385234" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0tz1Q5E026Q/Tup6KTSKFlI/AAAAAAAAAdU/WzCIQ7cnAjg/s200/Misc.%2BSugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B024.jpg" /></a>mplete with a set of tiny tools and attachments in a small wooden box. Very ornate. <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--OyHCMNGry0/Tup6i0m3NiI/AAAAAAAAAd4/Re0sKnS0JZ8/s1600/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B002.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686492218164459042" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--OyHCMNGry0/Tup6i0m3NiI/AAAAAAAAAd4/Re0sKnS0JZ8/s200/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B002.jpg" /></a>Things just aren’t made that way today! <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mGBHsvpinYw/Tup6aDSyNfI/AAAAAAAAAds/N12VL-OOoMI/s1600/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B001.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686492067487954418" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mGBHsvpinYw/Tup6aDSyNfI/AAAAAAAAAds/N12VL-OOoMI/s200/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B001.jpg" /></a><br /><br />I introduced my kids to the sewing machine at early ages, always encouraging a healthy respect for the moving sharp needle. Somehow, no one ever stitched a finger.<br /><br />A relative g<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JUpPhvwt8Hc/Tup7aKZ2tNI/AAAAAAAAAe0/IptFN0FShAA/s1600/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B026.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686493168908285138" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JUpPhvwt8Hc/Tup7aKZ2tNI/AAAAAAAAAe0/IptFN0FShAA/s200/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B026.jpg" /></a>ave my daughter a child-size Singer sewing machine in the mid-1990s. The Singer Company had made many changes and addressed safety issues since the production of my first machine. She enjoyed creating things for her dolls and stuffed animals. It didn’t matter if the seams were crooked or the tension adjusted too tight. She was creating and her efforts were beautiful.<br /><br />She took several clothing construction classes in high school with wonderful teachers who encouraged her creativity. She said she found sewing to be a relaxing activity. She learned the basics on Bernina sewing machines made in Switzerland.<br /><br />Now a fashion merchandising major, she continues to enjoy sewing one-of-a-kind<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FVToLR0E65E/TuucJxsWHqI/AAAAAAAAAgI/4VNUDPF6Yaw/s1600/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B027.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686810646257475234" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FVToLR0E65E/TuucJxsWHqI/AAAAAAAAAgI/4VNUDPF6Yaw/s200/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B027.jpg" /></a> clothing items. And for her birthday this year, she received a Bernina 215 sewing computer – complete with an LCD display screen and numerous stitch selection buttons and choices. She can manipulate the “computer” and get it to do tasks I didn’t know home machines could do. And yet the concept of interlocking thread from two sources and the use of a sharp needle remains – just like in Isaac Singer’s day.<br /><br />I don’t usually make New Year’s resolutions, but I will this year. While I'm not ready to give up my basic 1950s Singer sewing machine, I do want to lea<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Il5CqQMVGro/Tup6RM79xMI/AAAAAAAAAdg/K_57RAQXajM/s1600/Misc.%2BSugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B025.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686491915457774786" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Il5CqQMVGro/Tup6RM79xMI/AAAAAAAAAdg/K_57RAQXajM/s200/Misc.%2BSugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B025.jpg" /></a>rn to use at least some of that Bernina computer’s settings and functions. I may not be able to use it with my daughter’s ease and confidence, but I’m going to try. Wonder what Mr. Singer would think?<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b7FOr46PI5I/Tup5Og9XRwI/AAAAAAAAAcw/wjPekeFP67o/s1600/Misc.%2BSugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B007.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686490769781114626" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b7FOr46PI5I/Tup5Og9XRwI/AAAAAAAAAcw/wjPekeFP67o/s200/Misc.%2BSugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B007.jpg" /></a></div>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5588361143263759215.post-76563076954096930432011-11-20T11:39:00.000-08:002011-11-20T12:23:59.410-08:00Thankful for Thanksgiving<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GbV77MI097U/TslYfschbQI/AAAAAAAAAYo/G1iwyu_Qpgo/s1600/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B010.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677166106807201026" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GbV77MI097U/TslYfschbQI/AAAAAAAAAYo/G1iwyu_Qpgo/s200/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B010.jpg" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ApSBOWCUaVk/TslYIu5EBLI/AAAAAAAAAYc/NRMC409mBcY/s1600/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B012.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677165712326788274" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ApSBOWCUaVk/TslYIu5EBLI/AAAAAAAAAYc/NRMC409mBcY/s200/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B012.jpg" /></a><br />The Halloween decorations came down, and the Christmas decorations went up. At least that’s what I discovered on recent trips to the local mall and big-box stores.<br /><br />But what happened to Thanksgiving? What happened to the day we Americans once set aside to be thankful for the good things in <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NRUroMtBMQU/TslbEwZCzTI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/RswL0EKe5zE/s1600/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B056.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677168942544768306" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NRUroMtBMQU/TslbEwZCzTI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/RswL0EKe5zE/s200/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B056.jpg" /></a>our lives?<br /><br />Each year America<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SI-2jlcoc1w/TslbuiaCg2I/AAAAAAAAAaU/WZ58ls6Ash8/s1600/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B024.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677169660345353058" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SI-2jlcoc1w/TslbuiaCg2I/AAAAAAAAAaU/WZ58ls6Ash8/s200/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B024.jpg" /></a>ns seem to begin the end-of-the-year holiday season a little earlier. It seems that life moves from the celebration of ghosts and goblins to the arrival of Santa<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mwthoHfugNE/TslZbEP0kOI/AAAAAAAAAZM/Y8z-oKne8lI/s1600/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B018.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677167126808662242" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mwthoHfugNE/TslZbEP0kOI/AAAAAAAAAZM/Y8z-oKne8lI/s200/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B018.jpg" /></a> Claus. Maybe it’s just me, but I miss Thanksgiving.<br /><br />I’ve always enjoyed having one day to simply be with people I care about. As a child, we drove from the city to rural Middle Tennessee to spend the day at Grandma’s with a house full relatives. We ate. We talked. We played. We hiked. We laughed. We enjoyed good food and the warmth of Grandma’s old farmhouse. We <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9lMLXDJ8ZH8/TslZs8UxdtI/AAAAAAAAAZY/EqNpR8nwKDI/s1600/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B059.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677167433919592146" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9lMLXDJ8ZH8/TslZs8UxdtI/AAAAAAAAAZY/EqNpR8nwKDI/s200/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B059.jpg" /></a>were simply – thankful.<br /><br />I drove down my street the morning after Halloween. Most houses still had pumpkins, hay bales, and <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677174457910553474" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WQdPRKsWa6I/TslgFyut64I/AAAAAAAAAck/jPkHTBoP9VI/s200/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B020.jpg" />scarecrows decorating their front porches. But further down the street I saw a neighbor had already installed a variety of Christmas yard decorations, lights, and ornaments. He st<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oyttaAr1bW4/TslarzyAJlI/AAAAAAAAAZw/4axRUjKGwTc/s1600/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B047.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677168513958028882" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oyttaAr1bW4/TslarzyAJlI/AAAAAAAAAZw/4axRUjKGwTc/s200/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B047.jpg" /></a>ood on a ladder putting the finishing touches on a rooftop Santa and sleigh. I didn’t wave.<br /><br />I turned on the radio and discovered the local oldies station would be playing Christmas and holiday music 24-7 for the next two months! Seriously? The leaves <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-REN4aeAF-20/Tslc3NBFSjI/AAAAAAAAAbE/lNjugOt7A5g/s1600/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B060.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677170908733983282" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-REN4aeAF-20/Tslc3NBFSjI/AAAAAAAAAbE/lNjugOt7A5g/s200/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B060.jpg" /></a>were still on the trees, flowers still bloomed in pots, and it was warm enough to ride with the car windows down. I wanted to scream! At this rate, I thought, I’ll be sick of Christmas before December arrives!<br /><br />Last week I heard the term Black Thursday for the first time. Seriously? How greedy is that? Seems like retailers can’t wait even a day to separate consumers from their money.<br /><br />And what about the people who must work on Black Thursday, who won’t get even one day of rest and time to be thankful before the holiday frenzy begins? <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Oj77hXA_plQ/TslekshWYcI/AAAAAAAAAb0/tLCxrcovKoI/s1600/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B053.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677172789796561346" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Oj77hXA_plQ/TslekshWYcI/AAAAAAAAAb0/tLCxrcovKoI/s200/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B053.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ERtTd1-eNoU/TsldShNpzqI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/XxC_UL9QRQE/s1600/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B044.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677171378011885218" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ERtTd1-eNoU/TsldShNpzqI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/XxC_UL9QRQE/s200/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B044.jpg" /></a>So this year, like last year, I’m staging a personal rebellion. We’re planning to celebrate Thanksgiving in a BIG way. Our house is decorated with pumpkins, turkeys, and lots of fall color. No decorated trees, no colored lights, no snowmen. Not yet.<br /><br />I’ll spend time buying groceries, cleaning, setting out extra chairs, gathering serving pieces, and cooking. I’ll pull out recipes for Mom’s favorite cranberry salad, Sue’s sweet potatoes, Grandma’s pecan pie, and Dad’s favorite yeast rolls. Things may get a little hectic at times (Ever cooked a turkey with the giblet bag still inside?), but the effort will be SO worth it. For one day I’ll savor and e<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pS11yMepvyc/TslfNB0FkBI/AAAAAAAAAcM/8iksyW7zlLE/s1600/Oct.-Nov.%2B2011%2B079.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677173482707062802" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pS11yMepvyc/TslfNB0FkBI/AAAAAAAAAcM/8iksyW7zlLE/s200/Oct.-Nov.%2B2011%2B079.jpg" /></a>njoy a houseful of company. We’ll talk, laugh, and catch up with family members from other states. <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WoAd9ObvLCE/TslfrPqaNqI/AAAAAAAAAcY/g8Et7o_D3k4/s1600/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B058.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677174001820645026" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WoAd9ObvLCE/TslfrPqaNqI/AAAAAAAAAcY/g8Et7o_D3k4/s200/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BPhotos%2B058.jpg" /></a><br /><br />But most of all, I’ll be thankful. Thankful for family and friends, thankful for little daily blessings, and thankful to live in a country where we enjoy so many freedoms.<br /><br />Holiday shopping can wait. Happy Thanksgiving!Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5588361143263759215.post-61898906842791626922011-11-14T19:26:00.001-08:002011-11-14T20:04:46.513-08:00Coffee Confessions<span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><v:shapetype coordsize="21600,21600" filled="f" id="_x0000_t75" o:preferrelative="t" o:spt="75" path="m@4@5l@4@11@9@11@9@5xe" stroked="f">
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I have a confession to
make.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t like coffee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know, I know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is the nectar of the gods, the cure of all
ills, and it smells like heaven itself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Believe me I wish I liked coffee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It is the culturally acceptable drink of adults.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d love to walk up to the barista and request
something fancy like a Sumatra Dark Roast or Komodo Dragon Blend.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead I quietly creep up to the counter and
ask for hot water and directions to the tea bags.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or worse, a can of Dr. Pepper.</div>
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I have never developed
a taste for coffee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">want</i> to drink it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When my husband brews a cup of cappuccino I
always ask for a sniff.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Its scent is so
exquisite.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rich and dark, it smells the
way that chocolate tastes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But every
time I sample the lovely liquid, my tongue revolts, my jaws clench, and I have
the urge to spit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just don’t like the
taste.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Please, don’t hate me!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m already a coffee pariah.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj783dZsxMIBgVeoeip5MZWX30qjGks3BnaMBnEsKPEPwz3BsBhMtDKh21mwEuztOKiLemj-Myh3U0AP6P1OMICcRryRnkBvgHjHNEqGBVNzxDHxAAQCEjxRr4h1cx5VxsqTPYoKXl5_W_X/s1600/sweetbaycoffee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj783dZsxMIBgVeoeip5MZWX30qjGks3BnaMBnEsKPEPwz3BsBhMtDKh21mwEuztOKiLemj-Myh3U0AP6P1OMICcRryRnkBvgHjHNEqGBVNzxDHxAAQCEjxRr4h1cx5VxsqTPYoKXl5_W_X/s320/sweetbaycoffee.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
And coffee houses are
so much fun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Deep comfy chairs for
sipping and visiting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fun funky art that
brightens the walls, and cozy nooks perfect for reading or writing the great
American novel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Who doesn’t love a good
coffee house?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t resist them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even on a recent road trip to <st1:state w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Arkansas</st1:place></st1:state> with my friend
and coffee junkie, Jeanie Ransom, we had to stop at a coffee house or
two.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We found a charming spot called
Sweet Bay Coffee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We wanted to stay all
afternoon but we were already playing hooky from the conference and good girls
that we are, we were afraid of “getting in trouble."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So we soaked up the atmosphere and vowed to
spend an afternoon sipping and sniffing coffee closer to home.<br />
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Lucky for us there are
several charming shops in the <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">St. Charles</st1:place></st1:city> area.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Jeanie works at Starbucks, which is a perennial favorite for coffee
drinkers in the know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She gives a class
called coffee 101 where neophyte coffee drinkers can learn the difference
between French roasts and Italian, or latte and cappuccino.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Starbucks even offers coffee tastings called
a “cupping” where aficionados can learn to rate coffee on the basis of clarity,
complexity, and balance or sweetness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
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I have a different way
of rating coffee houses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I look for
charm, comfort and good food.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Three
local independent coffee houses have made my list of delightful places to spend the
afternoon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first is Crooked Tree
Coffee at 559 First Capitol in Old St. Charles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Housed in a 1800's storefront, the coffee shop has an original tin
ceiling, a great choice of herbal teas, and really fabulous selection of wraps
and sandwiches.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The mandarin orange
chicken salad is guaranteed to make you smile.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimd1IiuUc5DhQmJMgh9Tsh2jdlaEDwSNixSlfrnR-atDP8ZTAipCx6RhUCh_lyxCx7cC5dygLrnkcbAk8Is2_lHlLS_j5X8f_I9eBy9qzihsF1ab8oDSvfuBZjrsLnAGMyqiXEgFwGmT9G/s1600/stcharlescoffeehouse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimd1IiuUc5DhQmJMgh9Tsh2jdlaEDwSNixSlfrnR-atDP8ZTAipCx6RhUCh_lyxCx7cC5dygLrnkcbAk8Is2_lHlLS_j5X8f_I9eBy9qzihsF1ab8oDSvfuBZjrsLnAGMyqiXEgFwGmT9G/s320/stcharlescoffeehouse.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
I also love the St.
Charles Coffee House at <st1:street w:st="on"><st1:address w:st="on">3821
McClay Road</st1:address></st1:street>. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is housed in a modern building, but still
has a comfy stay awhile vibe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have
literally spent hours visiting with friends, solving the world's problems and
not once have I been chased out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So
lovely to be able to sit and enjoy a cup of tea, sniff the coffee, and eat red
velvet biscotti.<br />
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Back in old town <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">St. Charles</st1:place></st1:city>, coffee house
addicts need to go to Picasso's at <st1:street w:st="on"><st1:address w:st="on">101
North Main Street</st1:address></st1:street>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There is a perpetual art show covering the walls with works by local
artists, great teas, coffees, and huge muffins!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Big chairs and quiet tables inside are perfect for writing, reading, and
visiting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When the weather is nice you
can sit outside and spend a lovely hour people watching.<br />
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Coffee houses are a
gift to our community.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The provide a
gathering spot for friends, a venue for musicians and artists, and of course a
serious cup of coffee for those with sophisticated taste buds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>for
me, I will be forever a coffee wannabe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But at least the coffee crowd lets me hang out at their wonderful
stores.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank you coffee shop owners of
the world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You make me happy!<br />
<br />
And readers - please let me know about
your favorite coffee shop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm always
looking for a new adventure.<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px;">
<o:p> </o:p>Check out these great
coffee shops on line:</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px;">
<a href="http://www.picassoscoffeehouse.com/">www.picassoscoffeehouse.com</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin: 1em 0px;">
<a href="http://www.crookedtreecoffee.com/">www.crookedtreecoffee.com</a></div>
<a href="http://www.saintcharlescoffeehouse.com/">www.saintcharlescoffeehouse.com</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.starbucks.com/">www.starbucks.com</a><br />
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<br /></div>Stephanie Bearcehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14014743232206545023noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5588361143263759215.post-30006608091022165272011-11-06T08:09:00.000-08:002011-11-07T08:12:03.071-08:00Pimento Cheese, PleaseIt's happened again. Another traditionally Southern concoction has made it to the big time as a trendy in-vogue food.<br /><br />In<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-l4XrxR9V4js/Trf-Uyp_V7I/AAAAAAAAAXE/0PIpNI2PBXs/s1600/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BBlog%2BPhotos-May%2B002.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672281888845158322" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-l4XrxR9V4js/Trf-Uyp_V7I/AAAAAAAAAXE/0PIpNI2PBXs/s200/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BBlog%2BPhotos-May%2B002.jpg" /></a> recent years, foodies throughout the country discovered and exclaimed over Southern specialities like chicken and waffles, and shrimp with grits. Now those in the know are singing the praises of pimento cheese.<br /><br /><em>Bon Appetit </em>magazine listed pimento cheese as one of 2011's food trends. Food Network star and Southern cook Paula Deen is circulating a recipe for Hot & Spicy Pimento Cheese Dip. Its ingredients include Vidalia onion, Philadelphia Cream Cheese and hot pepper sauce. <em>Country Living </em>magazine this summer printed a recipe for pimento cheese deviled eggs.<br /><br />Pimento cheese has been discussed on NPR radio and various food blogs. And in our American culture that loves all things fried, it's even been fried and served on a sandwich! A recent cookbook release included a recipe for Pimiento Cheese Soup. And the subject of a recent <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EtME06weAB4/Trf-rb81FvI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/D-ozCUcDt9A/s1600/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BBlog%2BPhotos-May%2B011.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672282277887153906" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EtME06weAB4/Trf-rb81FvI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/D-ozCUcDt9A/s200/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BBlog%2BPhotos-May%2B011.jpg" /></a>master's thesis was, yes, pimento cheese. Pimento cheese also receives a bit of national exposure each year during The Master's Golf Tournament in Augusta, Georgia. Pimento cheese sandwiches are a popular choice during the week of the tournament.<br /><br />Who knew this simple staple from my southern childhood would one day become such a taste sensation?<br /><br />Pimientos are heart-shaped red peppers that measure about four inches long. They're sweeter than red bell peppers and were once an expensive imported delicacy.<br /><br />Pimento cheese began appearing in the U.S. about 100 years ago, filling tiny sandwiches enjoyed at ladies' tea parties. Southern farmers began growing the peppers, which made them more affordable, and then J.L. Kraft introduced processed cheese to consumers. Soon pimento cheese sandwiches were a staple lunch item of textile workers in the Carolinas. The popularity of pimento cheese as an affordable sandwich filling soon spread throughout the South.<br /><br />In 1933, Moody Dunbar, Inc., a <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tACTeCouL-g/Trf_BiSCrsI/AAAAAAAAAXc/XrElEtcWDL0/s1600/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BBlog%2BPhotos-May%2B006.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672282657543859906" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tACTeCouL-g/Trf_BiSCrsI/AAAAAAAAAXc/XrElEtcWDL0/s200/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BBlog%2BPhotos-May%2B006.jpg" /></a>family business operating out of Johnson City, Tennessee, began canning and distributing pimientos in the United States. Today the company is the large produced of pimientos and proudly uses only American-grown peppers. Several generations of my family have used Moody Dunbar, Inc., pimientos packed in small glass jars.<br /><br />Growing up, the two choices for sandwiches with the elementary-school lunchbox crowd were peanut butter and jelly or pimento cheese. Both were sered on white bread, with or without the crusts (depending on whether Mom took the time to cut them off that day). These sandwich ingredients were nutritious and filling -- and a lot more economical than lunch meats or tuna salad. At least that's what our moms said, and they made our lunches.<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eJwS1JN9dPE/Trf_a4FGg_I/AAAAAAAAAXo/NwIKmn5__CA/s1600/Spread_Pimento.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 145px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672283092891894770" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eJwS1JN9dPE/Trf_a4FGg_I/AAAAAAAAAXo/NwIKmn5__CA/s200/Spread_Pimento.jpg" /></a><br />The pimento cheese on my sandwiches came from a small container labeled, "Mrs. Grissom's Salads." Mrs. Grissom and her husband owned a company in my hometown (Nashville, Tennessee) that made sandwich spreads -- convenience foods, if you will. Now in her 90s, Mrs. Grissom still heads the company.<br /><br />Our refrigerat<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pVGmUGvO2sI/TrgAJlDdTeI/AAAAAAAAAX0/5qO2znLQXyY/s1600/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BBlog%2BPhotos-May%2B015.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672283895238577634" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pVGmUGvO2sI/TrgAJlDdTeI/AAAAAAAAAX0/5qO2znLQXyY/s200/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BBlog%2BPhotos-May%2B015.jpg" /></a>or always held a container of Mrs. G's pimento cheese. And if unexpected guests dropped by for dinner, Mom filled celery sticks with pimento cheese for a quick and tasty appetizer.<br /><br />One day I was visiting my grandma when lunchtime rolled around. She offered me a sandwich -- peasut butter and sugar sprinkles or pimento cheese. I picked pimento cheese, but wasn't prepared for what hit my taste buds.<br /><br />Mrs. Grissom's pimento cheese has "substance." The consistency is not too thick, but not thin and runny either. I bit into Grandma's crustless sandwich -- and stopped. This wasn't Mrs. G's pimento cheese! It was smooth and creamy and the pimentos weren't tiny precision-cut pieces. These pimentos looked like pieces of, well, peppers. I didn't like peppers of any color,a nd at that time I didn't realize pimentos are a type of pepper.<br /><br />I didn't want to hurt Grandma's feelings, but this stuff wasn't what I thought I was getting. Its rich creaminess made me feel full in a hurry. I said nothing and choked down the sandwich with a glass of milk.<br /><br />A few years passed. Grandma came to live with us, and with her came enough recipes to fill a cookbook -- all in her head. One day I came home from school to find Grandma in the kitchen with a mixing bowl, a cheese grater, and an old wooden spoon. She mixed these red things into some grated cheese, and then added whole milk and some seasoning.<br /><br />"Taste this for me," she said.<br /><br />I got a spoon and dipped out a bite. Hmmm, delicious! The consistency was rich and creamy with a twangy flavor my childish taste buds couldn't identify. Funny, but this was much better than I remembered. I developed a taste for both store-bought and homemade pimento cheese that day!<br /><br />Many traditional pimento cheese recipes call for just a few ingredients -- grated sharp cheese, mayonnaise or whole milk, chopped pimentos, and seasonings. Other recipes suggest variations and add-in ingredients including green chilies, pickled jalapenos, Monterey Jack cheese, smoked cheddar, crumbled bacon, garlic, and dill pickles. Pimento cheese also can be found these days as a topper for hot dogs and hamburgers.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9sLRbfQzsXA/TrgAqAJrqzI/AAAAAAAAAYA/rWt863VxDsY/s1600/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BBlog%2BPhotos-May%2B010.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672284452268256050" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9sLRbfQzsXA/TrgAqAJrqzI/AAAAAAAAAYA/rWt863VxDsY/s200/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BBlog%2BPhotos-May%2B010.jpg" /></a>Whipping up a batch of pimento cheese can be as easy as turning on a food processor, but I prefer to make mine the old fashioned way like Grandma did -- grating the cheese on a metal grater and stirring together the ingredients with a spatula. The consistency is thick and chunky, but oh-so delicious! My daughter enjoys it as a dip with Fritos Scoops, and it's also good on Ritz crackers. Here's our favorite recipe:<br /><br /><strong>Pimento Cheese</strong><br />1 cup real mayonnaise<br />1 teaspoon dry mustard<br />1/2 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce<br />1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper<br />Juice from 1/4 lemon<br />8 ounces sharp Cheddar cheese, grated<br />8 ounces Colby-Jack Cheese, grated<br />1 (4-ounce) jar chopped pimientos, drained<br />Dash seasoning salt<br />Dash pepper<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WNAuutAzcVo/TrgBG80X4xI/AAAAAAAAAYM/SVhfFWFJ6pY/s1600/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BBlog%2BPhotos-May%2B018.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672284949589779218" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WNAuutAzcVo/TrgBG80X4xI/AAAAAAAAAYM/SVhfFWFJ6pY/s200/Sugarberry%2BHome%2BBlog%2BPhotos-May%2B018.jpg" /></a><br />In a medium mixing bowl and using a spatula, combine the first five ingredients until well mixed. Add the cheeses and pimientos, gently combining until thoroughly mixed. Add seasoning salt and pepper to taste. Keep refrigerated. Enjoy!Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1