Frames And Mental Blocks

It may be an absolutely perfect day for Halloween – gray and dreary, rain early on but supposed to clear off by trick or treat time, just cool enough that the Halloween costumes should be comfortable without it being freezing.

We took a trip to Chillicothe today for some shopping. Hubby and I both commented on the drive home what a beautiful “Halloween” scene it was in an Amish field that was full of corn shocks – with the dark cloudy day, they looked almost spooky as they silhouetted against the sky.

I've been the victim of my own mental bias the past month. I've tried to get past it, but I just haven't been able to. The end of September I got new glasses. I was looking forward to the new frames and lenses. I noticed before picking up the new pair that I was charged more for the frames than I thought they cost. While my new frames were being adjusted, I asked about the charge. The customer service rep pulled up my info on the computer and informed me that I was charged correctly – then she commented that what I was wearing were men's frames.

I don't consider myself sexist. I'd like to think people who know me would agree with that. These frames weren't glaringly “male”. In fact, they looked okay on me. They were comfortable. I can see. But for a month, there's been a little voice every so often that says “they're men's frames”.

The reality of the frames is that I arrived at my appointment early just so I could try on frames. I found the ones I wanted within five minutes of my arrival. I handed them to one of the customer service reps, who laid them aside for me. Because of some issues I never quite understood, I then sat for almost an hour and a half before I was seen for my exam......it was almost 11:30 when they called me back for my 10 o'clock appointment. So there was some level of frustration that I'd blown an entire morning waiting for an eye exam.

When my exam was finally over and I came out to order my glasses, the customer service rep I'd talked with earlier was on lunch break. I told the one helping me finish up that I'd already chosen my frames and they'd been laid aside for me. The only thing I can figure out is that at that point the wrong frames were picked up. And in my frustration at wanting to finish and get out of there, I didn't notice. (And, in my defense, I didn't see the frames on my face – they did not have a mirror at their desk, and the only time I had the frame on was when they marked my trifocal line.)

So, truthfully, my issue with these glasses isn't so much that they're men's frames but that they're not the frame I chose. I've really tried to make peace with them, but it just wasn't happening. The nice thing was knowing that there was a 60-day satisfaction guarantee with the glasses, so I still had time to pick out a different frame. I decided today that it was time to “fish or cut bait”, as they say. I told hubby that I wanted to see if they had the frames I'd originally chosen (they did not have them the last time I was in) – if the frames were in stock, I would ask for the change. If they weren't, then I would be at peace with the frames I'm wearing.

I was almost like a kid in a candy store when I walked in and saw “my” frames on the display rack. I tried them on to doublecheck, and they look great. The ones I have on are okay.......the ones on order are so much better! I pulled out my paperwork, answered the questions about why I wasn't satisfied with the ones I had on, and the replacement specs were ordered. The better news is that they should be ready for pick up in a week.

So all's well in spectacle land......and the good news is that since I'm swapping out for a less expensive frame, I got money back today! You can't beat going to a retail facility, getting something you really want and getting cash back! Now I know how my couponing daughter-in-law feels! It made for a perfect opportunity for me to treat us to lunch at DQ.

Computers

I don't usually get political – I figure my political views are my business and don't necessarily need to be shared. However, this morning I made yet another attempt at registering with the new Insurance Marketplace. It wasn't nearly as frustrating as last time.......mostly because once I entered the internet address, I got a screen that said “this site is temporarily unavailable, thank you for your patience”. What else can I be but patient? Frustrated, but patient. Until they get the bugs worked out of this website, we're all in limbo!

Update.......upgrade.......new site........these are all words that strike terror in the hearts of anyone who's ever worked on a computer. I actually started with “technology” in the fall of 1973 – I worked on one of the first editions of IBM's automatic typewriters. It was a huge monstrosity – we could only fit two units in our small office. But at the University where I worked, all the professors and business people could pick up their phone, dial an intercom phone number and dictate over the phone. Their letters and memos were recorded on a magnetic tape – a loop about 4” wide, a little larger diameter than a woman's bracelet.

We took that tape off the dictation machine and put it on the transcription machine, then we put on our headphones and used a foot pedal to advance and listen to the tape while we typed. The keyboard we used for typing was like a large IBM keyboard. Except that it was wired up to a cabinet-type device next to our desks, maybe 40” high, 24” deep, and 14” wide. We would insert a magnetic card into a slot on that cabinet, and whatever we typed was saved on the magnetic card. It was the first time I'd been able to retrieve and correct a document without having to type the entire thing over.

After 1973, I didn't have any close encounters with electronic keyboards for awhile. In the mid 80's I worked for a newspaper and that was my first introduction to computers. They used Macs for typing their news stories. I really started getting better acquainted with computers in the 90's. To that point, most of what I had done was specific to the business I worked for. My kids actually helped me get acquainted with Windows.

Some days I look at what I can do on computers and I'm amazed. I learned to type on a Royal manual typewriter. I've come a long way, baby! And I know that my blood freezes whenever I hear anything about upgrades! The absolute worst was when three networked computers were replaced with new computers, making it necessary to upgrade all the programs on all three computers. We were in a profession where we could not afford any disruption in work. We definitely didn't have the time or patience to find out a file we had used for years was not compatible with the new computers and wouldn't open in the new format. Urgh.

I've survived several equipment and software upgrades. And I've never seen one that went smoothly. Never. There are always undiscovered glitches. There are always crucial files that won't open in the new format. (I always tried to have a hard copy of any critical material.) There are specific commands necessary to do specific processes that no one knows because we didn't realize they existed (for instance, you know a certain command results in a certain action – but because that was already set up when you started your employment, you don't know what the background commands are).

So, I wait along with the majority of adults for the glitches to be fixed on this insurance website. And I'm a lucky one. I don't HAVE to buy insurance.....I just want to price shop. But, in the big picture, I'll take my computer with all their foibles and frustrations rather than go back to the old manual typewriter – with carbon paper, typewriter erasers, and everything else we had to use!

Stormy Weather

There's a very touching look today on TV at the Hurricane Sandy destruction area, one year after the hurricane. Seeing the area and how much rebuilding still needs to be done is heartbreaking, as are the stories of the survivors who are moving on without loved ones. But as always, there is praise for the way the communities came together in disaster.

I've been fortunate that I've never lived in a hurricane area. I saw some powerful storms come in off the Pacific when I lived in Oregon, but nothing of hurricane force. But between Missouri, Kansas, Iowa, and Indiana, I've seen some significant tornado damage, blizzard damage, and straightline wind damage – to say nothing of floods.

When I was a kid, it seemed like tornadic weather always happened at night. We had a storm cellar just outside our back door. Unfortunately, we couldn't take that short route in stormy weather because the electrical line came from the pole to the house right over that back door and we didn't want to walk under it. It just seemed like a long walk off the porch and around the corner of the house when you'd been rousted out of a deep sleep.

There was always such a sense of urgency to get to the storm cellar, but you always made sure you were dressed, shoes on, and maybe a sweater or jacket. The storm cellar wasn't fancy – it was just basically a hole in the ground with steps going down to it. Some people had electricity in their cellars and a light, but there wasn't any in ours. We stored the jars of fruits and vegetables Mom had canned in the cellar, and there was a wooden bench down there.

There was a storm drain at the door going into the cellar, but something in the change of atmospheric pressure seemed to always make it clog up during storms. So, if it rained really hard, there would be water on the cellar floor.......cold water. I remember one dog in particular we had who was very afraid of storms. He would always follow us into the cellar, wade through the water, then jump on my lap.

We always made sure we stayed in the cellar, uncomfortable as it might be, until the weather completely settled down. In fact, I often remember not coming out until the stars were twinkling in the sky. On one really memorable night, as we exited the storm cellar we looked to the skies – very, very high up, there was a seemingly tiny, perfect funnel cloud that slowly broke apart and dissipated as we watched.

We never had any tornado damage, though we did have straightline wind damage more than once as a result of the storms. I can remember a couple of times when the TV antenna was blown off the house, as well as a few random shingles. That wasn't major. What was major, though, was the barn. When I was small, we had a good-sized barn with three distinct areas: a section with stanchions for milking cows, in the middle was a corn crib and storage for feed, and then there was a larger area good for containing cows about to calve, or small calves.

The first time when the wind cause issues with the barn, the feed area and calf area were blown down. For reasons we never quite understood, the milking section wasn't touched. It took awhile to clean up that mess. I helped as best I could when Dad rebuilt that end of the barn......just one long section, open on the long south end but hooked to the original barn on the west and north and east walls, with a tin roof.

It may have taken almost as long for him to ease the milk cows back into the barn for their twice-daily milking. They were really spooked by the looks of the post-storm barn and refused to get near it. Dad would coax them as close to the barn as he could, then do the milking as best he could in the pasture. That's not usually recommended, to milk a cow without having them held in one position! With a lot of patience, Dad finally coaxed the cows back to the barn and milking continued as usual.

A few years later, we had a repeat in another storm – that rebuilt section was blown down and had to be rebuilt. We were getting good at it by then! At least the look of the barn didn't change enough to spook the cows, so Dad didn't have to deal with that. I always imagined the cows clicking their rear hooves together, mooing “there's no place like home, there's no place like home”!

Harvest

It's a gorgeous day, mild and mid to upper 60's – but with rain in the forecast for the next three days, the farm trucks are very busy today hauling in this year's harvest.

I grew up here in “the middle”, and I forget sometimes that people in other parts of the country don't understand our planting and harvesting lifestyle. The main crops grown in this part of the state are field corn and soybeans. Because of a cold, late spring – including a rare early May snowstorm – planting was late this year. So, naturally, harvest is running behind. I know the farmers have been very happy with this warm, long fall.

I've seen the corn harvest start as soon as early August......this year harvest didn't start until September. Once harvest starts, farmers are almost married to their combines. As soon as the dew dries up in the morning, the harvest starts. Most bigger farmers have semis to haul their harvest to town, with hired drivers. As soon as the semi trailer is filled, the parade to the grain elevator starts. We have two elevators not far from our house, and the route many trucks take is the intersection out our back door.

As long as the equipment works properly, most combines will run all day and up until dark......in crunch time, the combines are equipped with lights in case you need to keep harvesting because rain is coming in. Often the last load of the evening will be loaded into the semi and covered with a tarp, to be delivered the next morning before the next day's harvesting begins.

Planting is a juggling game, making sure the corn gets planted and then the soybeans, so the corn harvest ends by the time the soybeans are ready to come out of the ground. The crops are rotated, so that a field that grows corn this year will likely be planted in soybeans next year. The farmers will finish up the corn harvest and just take the time to remove the corn head from the combine and put on the bean head. In the “good old days”, there were two separate pieces of equipment for harvesting. It's so much handier to be able to use the basic combine with interchangeable harvest heads.

When I was growing up, we didn't normally plant row crops. Our farm was very hilly......to say nothing of rocky!.....with a lot of timber. I do remember the summer I was five Dad planted the field east of the house in field corn. It wasn't to sell, it was to have for cattle feed over the next winter.

Our neighbor came over on Thanksgiving Day, driving his tractor with the corn picker attached, and harvested the corn for Dad. Unlike today's combine corn heads, this corn picker harvested the entire cob of corn (instead of the individual kernels). We had a corn crib section in our barn and the ears of corn were shoveled into the crib for storage.

Even though I was young, I have memories of working to get the dried corn kernels off the cob to be fed to the cows. It wasn't difficult getting them off, but it was done by hand. Dad would get the cob started for me by getting the first few kernels off, then I would rub the heel of my hand over the kernels and they would pop out of the cob and into my bucket. Like any hard work, I remember the heel of my hand getting sore.

I remember feeling like I was really helping. I was, though, pretty happy that Dad didn't plant corn after that!

Cookies & Lunch Boxes

I just enjoyed a chocolate sandwich cookie as an afternoon snack. I had a flashback moment to early elementary school and taking a little waxed-paper packet of sandwich cookies to school for morning recess snack...........I also had memories of sneaking bites of those cookies during class! Sometimes there were perks to having two grades in a classroom. When the teacher was focused on the other grade level, you could occasionally sneak something by.

For reasons I never quite understood, for all 12 years of my school career the high school and junior high kids had lunch before the elementary kids. I always figured the younger kids had smaller tummies and should eat first. But I always enjoyed those recess cookies.

During my mid-elementary years, I took my lunch occasionally. I can't remember why, but I would imagine it was my decision. There was a green tin lunchbox in our smokehouse (our term for that catch-all shed in the back yard) with a pop-off lid. I don't remember what I took for lunch, but it was probably a baloney or peanut butter & jelly sandwich......wrapped in waxed paper. It cost a few pennies, maybe a nickel, to buy a carton of milk from the lunchroom to go with lunch.

When we brought our lunch, we weren't allowed in the lunchroom except to buy our milk. That was another “school rule” I never understood. When we brought our lunch, we had to settle ourselves on the gym bleachers to eat lunch – the girls on one side, the boys on the other. The reason it never made sense to me was that there wasn't anyone keeping an eye on the kids in the bleachers. I don't remember there ever being any problems, but it just seemed odd.

While I don't remember what I took for my lunch, I have vivid memories of some of the others who did. There were siblings who seemed to always take their lunch. And I remember them having fried egg sandwiches in their lunch boxes. I have absolutely nothing against a good fried egg sandwich – but I want it hot, fresh off the stove, if you don't mind! A cold egg sandwich just didn't do anything for me.

In retrospect, I would imagine the brief times I took my lunch to school were the result of my finding the idea to be cool. We never knew ahead of time what we were having for school lunch. With our lunchroom in the same building as the gym, and the gym was the before-school gathering spot, we would occasionally get a whiff of lunchroom smells before school began. But normally, we wouldn't know what our lunch would be until we walked into the building at lunchtime. It was rarely disappointing.

I've mentioned before how yummy our school lunches were overall. There were very few things they served that I didn't care for – spinach, salad (the lettuce was fine, but I didn't really like the dressing), navy beans because they weren't really seasoned, and the school's chili. They always had an alternative choice of hot dogs on chili day.

The one thing that was done at school that most everyone loved was the apple butter. We were served most of our meal as we went through lunch line. But on the tables there would be bread, butter, peanut butter, and apple butter. On days where lunch wasn't quite to our liking, we could always fill up with bread, butter and applebutter. And if lunch was good – well, then, the bread, butter and apple butter made a terrific dessert!

I still have times when I crave apple butter. I haven't had any for awhile, but the fall weather is making me hungry for apple butter.

Trick Or Treat Fun

Such a nice day – too bad I didn't use it! We did our podcast this morning and walked, then I ran uptown and got my hair trimmed. I do now have 25% of my Christmas ornaments done (that would be 3 out of 12). But I did take the time to go through the instructions for the rest and deciphered the thread color codes. That takes awhile.

Even today's mail didn't amount to much. I did get an interesting catalog. I don't think it was interesting when it was put into the mail. But by the time it got to our mailbox, it must have had quite a journey. It was mangled, folded, and taped together. When I cut the tape and tried to sort things out, it was more of a puzzle than a catalog. I had the outside cover – with my name and address – of one catalog, the cover and first inside page of a second catalog, with no name.....and then an entire copy of that second catalog, again with no name or address. I'll never know what was inside the catalog I was supposed to receive. Hopefully it isn't anything I can't live without!

Halloween's coming up next week. That was always a fun time when I was in school. We would have classes as usual until early afternoon – or at least as much as the teachers could contain a bunch of excited kids. Then we would take time to change into our Halloween costumes. Then the Halloween fun would begin.

The unique fun of going to school in a small community was the way we could celebrate these holidays. There were no permission slips necessary, no fears of bad things happening. All the grade school kids would line up by class, and we would have a Halloween parade from the school down the street to downtown, circle across the street and parade back to the school. This was a grand total of maybe six blocks. It was always something we looked forward to.

Trick or treating was fun, too. It took a bit of time because of being out in the country. On a good year, we would work the local gravel road on our way to Coloma and my great aunt's, then work our way along the blacktop to Mandeville. Most people didn't take a really long time with their trick or treating, because you wanted to get home before the neighbor kids came by. Sometimes it was a delicate balance!

When my kids came along, times had changed. When the first two got old enough for trick or treating, our home was in Portland, Oregon. I wasn't comfortable taking them out to households we didn't know. So I bought some Halloween treats just for them. Once we got moved to a smaller community where we were acquainted with people, things were more like the trick or treating of my childhood.

I lived in so many placed when the kids were growing up. Each place was unique and special in its own way. But when it came to Halloween, I can easily choose my favorite place – Winchester, Indiana.

Winchester was a town of about 5,000 on the eastern edge of Indiana, the county seat of Randolph County. And at some point in history, a very wise decision was made. Every year the mayor would declare the Sunday closest to Halloween as Trick Or Treat Day. The mayor further stated that official hours for trick or treating in the town would be from 2 until 4 pm. That was so great.

By the time I lived in Indiana, the kids were in elementary school. I had a friend who lived in a nice part of town, with a circle street just a block behind her house. All the kids needed to do was walk down the sidewalk to the corner, hang a left, and they could hit a whole bunch of houses close together. It was a stellar trick or treating area! And my friend and I were comfortable letting her son and my three kids go together without an adult – small town, light traffic, and a lot of parents had the same idea we did.

My friend and I weren't totally naïve – I'm sure once they got over to that circle street, my girls went one direction around the circle and the two boys went the opposite way, just meeting up to come back to the house together. But they were safe. It was not a situation where a parent would need to be concerned. The kids got great candy, and Ellen and I would enjoy a cup of coffee and a nice visit.

We don't have many kids in our neighborhood, but we buy hubby's favorite Snickers bars – just in case. If you're going to be prepared, get the best!

Chili

We had our first frost of the season last night. The front yard was very white with frost this morning, and my normally teal vehicle was also a frosty white. I'm glad I brought my pepper plant inside last night – it has a beautiful pepper in the midst of turning red, and I wanted to give it a chance to finish turning so I can enjoy it.

It was the perfect day to fix that first pot of chili for this cold season. And that chili tasted very good, if I do say so myself. The ground beef, ground turkey, minced onion mixture cooked to a beautiful golden brown, with the onions just disappearing into the meat. The chili seasoning was added and stirred into the meat while the browning continued. The beans in chili sauce and the tomato juice were added in, and the porcelain-coated cast iron pot allowed the mixture to simmer nicely for about an hour. Yummy!

Before you feel like I'm patting myself on the back a little too much, let me share a secret with you. Chili is one of those things that for years I just couldn't make well. Probably a lot of people have that issue – some seemingly simple food that you simply can't master. For years, I tried. I really did.

I didn't have a specific recipe, so I checked magazines (this was before the digital age) for recipes and tried to find a recipe that tasted right. I experimented.......and some of those recipes weren't all that great. It wasn't until after I'd moved back home in 1993 that I finally found “my” chili recipe. And it truly isn't mine at all.

When I moved back, I was working at the local hospital. My kids were attending our local church youth group. Unbeknownst to me, the parents were taking turns feeding the youth group Sunday night supper each week. No one evidently stopped to think that I might not be able to afford doing that. I think I had two weeks' notice when my turn was coming up. My first reaction was to panic. There was another mom I was to work with on that meal, and doing chili and cinnamon rolls was her idea. She's a great baker, so she offered to do the cinnamon rolls.

One of the perks to my job was that I could eat lunch in the hospital cafeteria. And I enjoyed the chili they served there. So I asked the head cook for their recipe. It turned out so well that I've never made any alterations to it other than using a beef/turkey mixture instead of straight beef. The chili went over well at youth group, though the cinnamon rolls were a bigger hit!

For several years, our family has opted to have soups for our holiday meal instead of turkey – we leave that to the in-law families so no one has turkey overload. I've made a habit of making that chili every year, and it's always a hit. I felt like a rock star the year my younger son-in-law made a nearly fatal mistake – he told me that it was the best chili he'd ever had.......in front of the rest of the family, including my younger daughter.

I think anyone who knows me is aware that I love to cook......it's the springboard for the title of this blog, as well as for my other blog (Brenda's Recipe For the Week). But I'm not perfect. I've made some memorable missteps in tweaking recipes. And I have my mental blocks. As I said earlier, for years I couldn't make decent chili.

I choose to think it's normal to have something that turns into a stumbling block. I never felt that way about my chili. The thing that really truly makes me shake my head is something so simple a child can do it......but I can't. I never have been able to. And at this point in my life, it probably won't happen. What is this thing that I can't conquer in the kitchen? Jello. As much cooking as I've done in my life, I can't get jello to turn out like it's supposed to. But I'm okay with that – jello is probably highly overrated!

To Work Or Not

It was a nice morning for a walk in the park. It was a little brisk (48 degrees), but the sun was shining brightly. There had been a little rain earlier, but the clouds had moved on. I enjoyed the fresh air while hubby went for his annual flu shot. I was surprised that he beat me back home – it was the first day for the flu shots, so we expected there to be a line.

From Fall 1990 through Fall 1993, I worked at a local health clinic. The administrators were quite smart – they had the nurses line us all up every fall and give all the employees a flu shot. The office was open from 9 am until 6 pm......and you lost count of the times you were sneezed on throughout the day!

Sadly, that flu shot wasn't a miracle vaccine. We still got sick. I spent quite a bit of time one of those winters fighting bronchitis. Very few of the employees would stay home when they were under the weather, so we shared a lot in terms of germs.

It's always interesting in the workplace to watch the different personalities when it comes to not feeling well. I remember one co-worker who would start talking in the early afternoon about not feeling “quite right”. I could count on her being out the next few days (I would have to do both our jobs when she was gone). I remember well one Friday when she started saying that – I wondered how it would play out. Sure enough, the first part of the next week she was at home. I seem to remember that she did make a comment about being okay over the weekend and then it hit her on Sunday night. Hmmm.

I've worked with people who wouldn't leave work regardless – and I've worked with people who would call in sick if they had a hang nail. I'm sure everyone's had these experiences. One co-worker even decided it was just too much to work 40 hours at the job she'd been hired for, plus an extra 4 hours on Saturday at a different job. She asked for, and was given, every Wednesday off so she was working only five days a week (but not 40 hours). Most everyone else thought that was ridiculous – it also left me in the position of doing both our jobs every Wednesday. It gave me leverage for negotiation.

You wouldn't necessarily think of clerical work as being risky, but I've had a few very strange workplace issues. Early in my career, I was working at a graduate school. We had an ancient offset printer we used for our printing. It was big, noisy, and in a room by itself. The premise of how the printer worked was really hard rubber rollers that pressed together tightly enough to squeeze a thick, oil-based ink onto the print rollers.

I had really long hair then......and I'm sure you're starting to anticipate where this is going. I was in that room by myself printing a large quantity of copies. We had to watch the front of the printer, where the paper was taken in – and also the back end, where the copies were coming out. I leaned toward the front to check on the darkness of the copies, and those rubber rollers grabbed my hair. I was very calm as I managed to find the toggle switch and turn the thing off. My co-workers came in to see why the printer was making such a strange noise. They had to take the printer apart to get me loose. I had that oil-based ink all through my hair and on my clothing. My co-workers were panicked – I stayed calm until it was all over, then I fell apart. The pressure of those rollers was so tight, it snapped off the hair they had caught. I ended up having bangs cut because of all the broken hair.

Not all that long ago I was working at a two-pieced wooden desk that had a wooden hutch on top of it. One Monday morning, about half hour after starting work, I heard a strange noise – and the wooden hutch fell over on me. Again, I was calm while everyone else screamed and jumped to lift the hutch off me. That day, I remained calm.......all I could do was shake my head in disbelief. Who would think those pieces of heavy furniture weren't fastened together? (They were by the end of the day!)

After a trip to ER to make sure I didn't have a concussion, and after stopping by the optometrist's office to get my glasses straightened, I went back to work – black eye, headache and all. The boss couldn't believe I was there, but I told him I could have a headache there just as easily as at home.

Yep, I'm one of the ones who doesn't miss work unless they just can't get out of bed!

Smells

It's a sunny afternoon in the mid 50's – fall has definitely arrived! A fresh pot of coffee is brewing and the Food Network is on the TV. I enjoy cooking in the fall – well, truthfully, I enjoy cooking all year round. But there's something really comforting about the fall cooking smells.

Yesterday morning was agonizing as we smelled a ham baking in the oven. By the time I threw in some potatoes, carrots, and onions to roast, there was a feeling that lunchtime wouldn't arrive soon enough! Even the leftovers today smelled good as they heated in the microwave.

Son posted on Facebook that he made his first pot of chili yesterday – his Grandma posted that she wished she had some of it. I don't think she knew what she was saying – Son's chili is absolutely lethal! I think he's long since killed his taste buds, and maybe his stomach as well, because he loves spicy food. Even his 15-year-old, who loves to keep up with dad, couldn't handle yesterday's chili after toning it down with half a bottle of ketchup!

Kitchen smells can stir up such memories. I loved going in for lunch at school when I could smell the yeasty aroma of hot rolls.....our cooks' hot rolls were the best, and they were always served with hash. The smell of salmon patties cooking always reminds me of my maternal grandmother. Memories of the other grandmother are stirred by the smell of cinnamon coffeecake or baking applesauce cake. She would make those at our house for the holidays.

There were many Sunday mornings growing up on the farm when I would wake up smelling roast beef cooking for lunch. Often when we were having fried chicken for Sunday lunch, Dad would have that ready and it was nice to walk in from church smelling lunch ready to eat.

For the first 20 years of my adult life, we moved frequently and lived in many different areas of the country. Growing up in the middle like I did, our normal eating schedule was breakfast in the morning, dinner at noon, and supper in the evening. As with most farm families, our large meal was midday. Once I got away from home, it only took one near-faux pas for me to change my method of referring to meals. Breakfast is still in the morning – but I learned it's so much safer to have lunch at noon and supper at night – and completely eliminate “dinner” from my eating schedule!! (Unless, of course, I'm with my in-laws on the West Coast.......I don't think you eat “supper” in San Francisco!) I was just fortunate that I coordinated my arrival time for a “dinner” invitation with the host, otherwise I would have showed up for the wrong meal! That would have been really embarrassing.

Younger daughter sent out an email yesterday about the annual family thanksgiving dinner. It doesn't seem like it should only be a few short weeks away, but the calendar verifies it is. Reading through that email and the menu of dishes really jump starts the “food smell” memory banks! Seems like I can already smell the stuffing baking in the oven!

Prepared

For a day that started out absolutely gorgeous, it sure didn't stay that way! We took a spur-of-the-moment shopping trip to Marshall this morning. It was bright and sunny. I wish I'd looked at the car thermometer before we left Marshall. We ran into clouds soon after leaving town – and the further north we came, the heavier the clouds. By the time we got to Waverly, the outside temp was 49, and it was only 48 when we pulled off the highway here in town. Once we got off the highway, the streets were wet. I just checked the mail, and there seems to be a steady rain coming down and it feels really chilly out there. I just saw on Facebook that there are some snowflakes being seen among the raindrops in Platte County.

I'm not a huge fan of winter. All the other seasons are fine, but I just don't enjoy the lingering cold weather. In the fall, I always start craving carbs and as the days get shorter I want to sleep more and more. I was probably a bear in a previous life!! I get tired of bundling up all the time and of not really feeling warm. By March, I get really grouchy and my favorite saying is “I want to see something green!”

Winter was tough for me as a kid in school. We had to wear dresses all the time. In an effort to keep me warm, Mom would have me put a pair of slacks under my dress. I hated that. No one else did it, and I felt like such a geek. Well, maybe one or two girls who lived in town and walked to school wore pants under their dresses, but they would take them off as soon as they got to school. I didn't have that luxury, because there wouldn't have been an opportunity before getting on the bus to put them back on.

Once it got cold, none of the other girls went outside for recess. Tomboy that I was, I wanted to be outside playing when I had the chance – and besides, I had on those darned pants to keep me warm! So my choices were these: 1) go outside and have to play with the boys, who would make fun of me for being such a tomboy, or 2) stay indoors with the other girls and feel out of place. Wow. Hard choice. At least we had some recesses in the gym. That was better.

I always had the sniffles from fall until spring. Now, we realize that it was allergies, and probably from living in a house heated with a wood stove. I never seemed to have enough kleenexes with me, and I got really tired of being stuffed up and coughing.

Because of where we lived, we were easily stranded at home during heavy snows. The dividing line between our township and the next one north was the middle of our road – so both township maintainer drivers would leave our road until last, hoping the other would have cleared it. That could lead to being snowed in for several days. The first day or two it would be fun. Then it would get old.

Our house was between two hills, with the driveway at a slight downward angle. If we had any ice, that made getting out a real challenge. It's hard to get traction when you're trying to back out of an icy driveway on an upgrade!

Growing up out in the boonies the way I did has made such a lasting impression. Even now I don't like to be low on supplies at home. I'm not ready for doomsday, but I feel best when I'm scrambling to find places to store the groceries I've brought home. Maybe instead of being a bear in a former life, I was a Boy Scout.......I always want to be prepared!

Doctors

This is one of the most gorgeous of all the fall days we've had so far – sure wish I felt like being outside enjoying it! Sadly, though, either my fall allergies have “kicked it up” a notch, or I'm trying to come down with a cold. Either way, my sinuses feel like someone's trying to drive a truck through them!

And before Mom says anything – yes, I tried some cold medicine. It didn't do any good. It's that funky sinus pressure that kind of makes the inside of my head spin when I try to move. Love it. We walked at the indoor track this morning – it's a 1/16^th mile oval......by the time I finished a half mile walk, I was really starting to feel dizzy! Too many curves.

As a kid, I didn't go to the doctor much. It just wasn't done. When I would get sick – usually some form of the flu – we would come to town so I could see Dr. Staton. As with so many doctors in that time frame, Dr. Staton not only had his own office but also a small hospital. It didn't seem to matter what time we arrived, he was always there. The routine fix for whatever ailed me was a shot of penicillen.....and it wasn't given in the arm. Usually I did get a nickel to cry with.

I remember before starting school that there was a big push for vaccinations. I don't know who initiated it, but I remember we got a series of vaccinations for diphtheria, whooping cough (which I'd already had by then), and smallpox. These were given over a period of three visits – I believe the parents got to choose which visit the smallpox vaccination was given.

Anyway, I distinctly remember going through what seemed like really long lines in the Bogard School gym to receive the first two of the series-of-three shots. The gym was open and there was no privacy, so you knew who cried and who didn't. The last of the three shots were given at a doctor's office in Carrollton. I vaguely remember that we were in the doctor's office at the same time as the Hart boys for those last shots. I was glad when they were over.

I think I was three or so when polio shots became available. Again, vague memories – this time of going to a doctor in Braymer (and I know we went there when I was very, very young) and taking my two cousins so all three of us could get the vaccinations. If I was three, then my (boy) cousins would have been 12 and 14 – I'm told that they were a bit embarrassed that I handled the shot better than they did!

I was never a fan of Dr. Staton. I felt like he was gruff and downright mean. Of course, the fact that I got a shot in my tush every time I saw him probably had something to do with that.

It was so much nicer when we started seeing Dr. Hansen in Hale by the time I was in junior high. I'm not sure why we changed. But Dr. Hansen was nice and conversant, and he had a daughter my age. When he did my physical for college, we had a nice visit. Mom and Dad weren't sure he actually did anything besides take my temperature and listen to my heart before declaring me healthy – but we had a really nice recap of how the Kansas City Royals were doing that summer. Dr. Hansen knew we were baseball fans.

Many years later when the kids and I were visiting Mom and Dad one summer, I came down with poison ivy. All over. Dad got tired of my being grumpy, so he took me to Dr. Hansen for a shot. I got my shot, along with some wonderful reminiscences by Dr. Hansen about my grandfather.

Going to the doctor has certainly changed over the years – but, believe me, I'm still not a fan!

Cross Stitching

We had another version of Christmas in October today – the food bank was back in town. The people watching while waiting in line is always interesting and entertaining. And I hit the yogurt jackpot – two cases of honey-flavored Greek yogurt (my favorite), plus a couple large containers of vanilla Greek yogurt. I've already had one of the honey flavored ones.

I'm trying a delicate balance right now of reading and working on Christmas ornaments. Basically, I do one until my eyes are crossed, then I take a break and try the other. I'm in the middle of a murder mystery thriller that's due back to the Library next week. And I just finished my second Christmas ornament.....ten to go. The one I just finished had a lot of pale yellow thread – the lighter colors are always harder on the eyes.

When I was in second grade, we got a new music teacher – Mr. Nashan. His mother-in-law was my teacher for both second and third grades. It seems like he came in mid-year. I can't remember for sure on that. But I remember our Last Day of School Program – the second graders sang “This Old Man”, with actions. I'm sure we did more than the one song....but that's the one that stays in my memory!

Music classes through the years with Mr. Nashan were memorable. We sang, we learned to play tonettes, he even took us through the pain and agony of beginning band. Mr. Nashan also taught high school history – he was memorable for assigning history essays to the high school band students who got in trouble in band class.

For reasons I never completely understood, Mr. Nashan chose to teach us square dancing. I think that began in third grade. We would fold up the chairs in the music room and move them against the wall, making plenty of room in the classroom. Then he would start playing the square dance records. The albums he had were tutorial – they would walk us through the various steps, and then walk us through the dance so we were familiar with it. Only then would we do it in “real time” with the music. There were several different dances on the record that we enjoyed doing.

When we got ready for the Last Day of School Program when I was somewhere mid-elementary school, we were showcasing our square dancing. Square dancing, naturally, required square dancing clothing.......a dress with poufy sleeves, a very very full skirt......done in gingham checked fabric and adorned with a cross-stitched pattern around the skirt. My dress got done in a dark blue gingham, then Mom started the cross stitching. I think she began to feel like there was no end to that skirt! She's often commented that she felt like she was going to lose her eyesight before she got that cross stitching done.

Mr. Nashan was with us through our seventh grade year. That was our third year in band, and I don't remember anything terribly memorable from that year other than saying goodbye to him.

The last time I saw Mr. Nashan was, I believe, 1999 at our all-school reunion. By then the Bogard High School Alumni Scholarship had been established, and his wife was on the scholarship committee. In an effort to promote the scholarship fund, the previous recipients were invited to that reunion and were introduced during the evening. Older daughter was the second recipient, so she was at the reunion with me. She and I happened to walk into the reunion right in front of Mr. Nashan and his wife. He hadn't changed much.

We had more than our share of good teachers at Bogard – Mr. Nashan was definitely one of them, in spite of the cross-stitched square dance dresses!

Food Tales

It's that wonderful time of the year – that time when I start edging my summer clothing toward storage and pulling out the heavier stuff. I really hate having to give in to the changing of the seasons this time of year! We've had a beautiful sunny day, in spite of the forecast....but it's cool and we'll top out in the low 60's. I finally made the pot of soup I've been wanting.

It's always funny the different trends we get in – like feeling I need to wait until cool weather to make soup or chili. I think it goes back to how you were raised. I know people who make soup and chili in the summer. But somehow, for me, that's just wrong! But then I realize I feel the same way now about ham and beans......and I grew up having those on Mondays when it was “wash day”, regardless of the temperature. Thoughts of certain foods inspire childhood memories – and I'm sure your families are like mine, some are more mainstream....and others are “out there”.

When I was very small, we spent a lot of time with my Dad's brother and his family. One of the “delicacies” my aunt would make for me was a ketchup sandwich. No kidding!! Ketchup on bread. I loved it. I think it was developed one time at their house when I was hungry and they were pretty low on groceries. That aunt had a real knack for convincing me something was special and fantastic!

Dad had two aunts in the small community of Coloma who had helped Grandpa raise Dad and his brothers. Dad was close with both of them, and we visited their homes a lot. I remember Aunt Cora being a very good baker – for some reason, I remember cherry pies and brownies. She made incredible brownies – and I think she put coffee in them. I hadn't seen anyone do that before.

Aunt Georgia's house was a little less, shall we say, structured. Oftentimes her home seemed on the verge of chaos – not that it actually WAS, but I think it was more her personality. She was the baby of the brother and sisters, and she'd raised five kids of her own as well as having Dad and his two brothers there a lot.

It was at Aunt Georgia's house that I first had a bread-butter-and-sugar sandwich. I'm not quite sure if it was Aunt Georgia who served me that – or her oldest daughter Frances......while Aunt Georgia had my parents occupied in another room. I loved that delicacy, though I don't remember Mom being particularly thrilled about my being fed straight sugar.

I don't think I ever tasted Aunt Georgia's homemade mincemeat – but I remember one year she made some and her husband, Uncle Jim, complained that she didn't exactly get the ingredients in the proper proportions..........in fact, his words were that it was the only pie he ever needed to put ketchup on!

She pretty well cooked anything she wanted to, and Uncle Jim ate it – in spite of having no teeth. I saw him crunch a juicy apple, bite down on popcorn balls. It was fascinating to watch him manage. The family story goes that at a young age (young being rather subjective, because he was always old to me!) he lost his teeth and couldn't get used to his dentures.....the dentures didn't survive and Uncle Jim learned to eat corn on the cob and anything else he wanted to.

Memories of food at home always include the legacy of an incredible milk cow. She gave more milk than the three of us could keep up with at some times. I remember the summer of cottage cheese – there was always a pan of milk in the process of turning into cottage cheese. There was a winter of homemade ice cream when Dad kept water in the stock tank and cut the ice for us to use in the ice cream freezer. My cousin, his wife and little girl stopped by our house every Sunday evening and we'd make a freezer of ice cream. It was tough to explain to Debi why we couldn't make ice cream when it got warm enough outside that there wasn't any more ice.

One fall Dad had an overabundance of watermelon and they were piled against a tree in the yard. When winter arrived, that same cousin was at our house and Debi kept asking for watermelon. We held her up to the door to show her there were no watermelon in the yard. Her response was a very sincere, “Uh-huh – see – little bitty ones!” It's kind of hard to argue with that kind of logic!

Keeping Up

I'm glad my kids are young – at my age, I really could not keep up with their schedules! I know this, of course. But we had a good taste of it this weekend.

Friday evening the younger daughter called on her way home for work. She was excited because, after a long week of work, they were going out with friends Friday evening. After sharing supper of Chicago deep dish pizza, they were going to the Corn Maze. I think that's terribly energetic for a Friday night, especially knowing she'd worked a lot of extra hours last week.

Saturday mid morning we picked up Mom and headed toward KC for Miss Whirlwind's birthday party. It wasn't a “straight” trip, though – after Friday evening's phone conversation, I needed to run by the apple orchard and pick up a jar of apple butter for younger daughter.

Once we got to the Metro area, we made a detour to the south part of Blue Springs to pick up the 8-year-old granddaughter......Dad was working and Mom had a training for her job. We got her and her dance gear loaded up and made our way to Chuck E. Cheese.

Saturday was a beautiful, warm day. While making our way to Independence Center Mall, we watched the MetLife blimp cruising around. It was in town for the Chiefs' game on Sunday. The new Chuck E. Cheese at Independence is decidedly bigger than the former location on Noland Road. I don't know how many birthday parties they had going on simultaneously. Little Miss Whirlwind was in her glory greeting all her guests.

We started with the party guests getting their game tokens – I was trailing the 8-year-old we'd brought with us, and hubby attempted to keep me in sight. We would wander, then pick a machine and play one game. Then we would wander, then pick a machine and.....well, you get the picture. She actually hit a couple of games the second time before she started shooting baskets. She's pretty good and stuck with that until time to eat.

It had been quite awhile since hubby and I had pizza, so it tasted pretty good. By that time I was keeping track of the time. I had two pieces of pizza, then took the 8-year-old back to the game floor. She shot baskets until she used all her tokens, then we turned in her tickets. By the time she chose all her prizes, it was time to go – her dance school had a special hip-hop clinic that week, with the final class at 2 on Saturday. I ran her to dance class and got back to the party in time to see Miss Whirlwind open her last few gifts......older daughter had made sure to hold the gifts from the family until last, so I got to watch her open our gifts. She was thrilled.

We helped get everything gathered up from our party so they could set up for the next round. After a bit more visiting, we headed toward home. We were so glad we were able to go, as well as being able to pick the 8-year-old up for the party and then get her to dance class. We were, though, very glad that we don't have to keep that kind of schedule on a daily basis!! Like I said, I'm glad my kids are young!

Son called on his way home from work Saturday evening to make sure the 8-year-old had been good for us.....of course she was! We're not her parents! He wasn't surprised to learn she'd traded her game tickets for candy. He didn't have to work on Sunday, so hopefully he had a quiet day. I'm not sure what older daughter had on tap for Sunday, but it usually involves grading papers and getting ready for the next week of school. Younger daughter and her hubby left the party Saturday afternoon to go camping overnight with friends – then they were winterizing their camper on Sunday.

Us? We went to bed early Saturday, slept in on Sunday, and really didn't do anything else! Mom said she sat in her chair most of Sunday afternoon and relaxed. Whoever said parenthood is for the young definitely knew what they were talking about!

Next Year

Ahh, Friday – and definitely a fall Friday. Even though it's warm out there, there a real fall “feel” to the air. Even with the doors and windows open, it makes me think of making a big pot of soup or chili.

It hasn't been a terribly exciting day. I did my normal housecleaning and laundry, and we had to make a run to the dollar store to avoid a TP crisis. Having a TP crisis is never a good thing.

My mind is really in a quandary these days. I can't quite figure out how I mentally feel like a teenager or young adult – yet my reality is that I called the administrator of my retirement fund today to find out the steps I need to get that started........next year. I need to make an appointment with Social Security so I can talk with them about starting Social Security payments..........next year.

When hubby started receiving Social Security, he couldn't resist calling his parents and saying, “Hello, this is your son on Social Security”. I could hear the “oh, my” comments from the other end of the phone!! (By the way, they now have two children old enough to collect Social Security – and they're still active and busy.)

I thought their phone call was quite cute. But I can't see myself repeating it with my own mother......next year. Time does fly – Mom, hubby and I were having a conversation recently about my cousin's two sons. Hubby asked how old they were – Mom hesitated and I could hear the brain cells churning. I immediately answered – “they're 40 and 42”. I had to admit that I could remember that so quickly because one was born just after I graduated high school and the other right after I graduated college.

Oh, and for anyone keeping track – I haven't made another attempt at getting on the health care site. From the news reports on TV just last night, it sounds like the bugs aren't out of the system. I still have time, and I've worked with computers enough to know getting in a hurry won't accomplish anything.

I'm looking forward to a quiet Friday night and a good time with family tomorrow. And I wish everyone a good weekend.

It's A Good Thing

More beautiful fall weather – and we've had a busy couple of days. That's no excuse, I know, but I just couldn't get my mental focus into doing the blog yesterday – my apologies!

Miss Whirlwind's family birthday party is Saturday, so by yesterday morning I figured it was time for Grandma to get in gear and get her a card and gift! In years past, that would have been done weeks ahead of time. Not now – now that Granny's retired, she's taken that pressure off herself. So I should probably apologize here and now to my kids, their spouses, and others who normally get birthday greetings from me – someone could get missed now that I don't live by my calendar!! I still love you just as much, I'm just way more laid back than I used to be!

Yesterday afternoon we decided to check out the local food bank. We hadn't been for awhile – I think the last time we went down it had been canceled. Prior to that, it was a ridiculously hot day. The enclosed facility had very little air moving, and we stood in line more than an hour waiting our turn. Yesterday was much nicer – it was a last-minute delivery that we had been called about. So I don't think as many people as normal showed up – it was cooler, and they started running the line through at one......over an hour earlier than usual.

It's always an adventure to go down there and see what you end up with. We got home and started sorting things out and put them away. The one “surprise” was a case.....yes, indeedy, I said “case”.....of mashed potatoes. Inside the case are four large plastic bags of buttery mashed yukon gold potatoes. And I must say, they taste pretty good! They do, though, take up a lot of fridge space....and it's bringing on a challenge trying to figure out how to use them.

I washed up five pounds of small red potatoes and dug out a couple of suspect ones for the garbage. About five pounds of carrots went into the fridge, along with three large heads of broccoli, some yellow squash, two institutional-size clamshell containers of organic spring greens, six hospital-size individual containers of milk, a sugarfree cherry pie, a personal-size sugarfree apple pie. There are about a dozen tomatoes on the counter to finish ripening. Last night I also stemmed and sliced two large containers of strawberries and washed three containers of something I'd not seen before – tiny seedless concord grapes. They are SO good! We're just grabbing them by the handful out of the fridge. I set aside two bags of huge apples to deal with later.

I started today doing a job I hate – and doesn't everyone!!! - defrosting the freezer. It actually went faster than I anticipated. I was so glad. I started on the apples and put a dutch oven of chopped apples on the stove to cook down into applesauce. We enjoyed fresh steamed broccoli for lunch – to be honest, I enjoyed it a lot more than hubby did! But he did well by tasting it before he told me I could have the rest of it. I pulled something Mom used to make out of my memory banks that was a much bigger success......when we used to have leftover mashed potatoes, she would break a few eggs in them, scramble it up and cook it in the skillet. We had a little leftover corn in the fridge that I threw in as well. It tasted pretty good. I'm trying to decide if I could make some of that up, bake it in muffin tins, and freeze it – the potatoes just might hold up to that if I put in plenty of eggs, I could throw in some veggies and meat, and it would be good for hubby to grab and pop in the microwave for his snacks.

I blanched the rest of the broccoli this afternoon and put it in the freezer. The tomatoes aren't the prettiest or the best, but I think they would be fine for chopping up and freezing – they would work well for soup. It feels good to do this kind of kitchen work, but I will admit to being a bit tired.

But, I also have that good feeling that comes with freezing and canning food to take care of your family. As Martha Stewart would say, “It's a good thing!”

The Government & Computers

I probably need to quit commenting about how beautiful our weather is, especially with the Upper Plains having snow – but it's a gorgeous day!! It's just a bit warmer than yesterday, no sweater was necessary to walk outside this morning. We're enjoying the fact that we can still eat lunch on the screened-in back porch.

I put my nose to the proverbial grindstone and worked on a Christmas ornament for a bit over an hour this afternoon. I finally felt my eyes starting to cross and took a break. Yesterday I was working with light yellow and regular yellow thread – today's green was a lot easier on the eyes.

I decided to make my first attempt at getting on the government's health insurance website today. It started out rather well. Once I'd entered my personal information and email information, a message popped up that they had sent me an email with the final steps for setting up my account. I went to my email account and had three emails from them – I skimmed all three, then clicked on the link to activate my account.

That's the point when things started going downhill. My overall impression is that the government and computers do NOT mix! I clicked that link, it went to the website.......and finally, after quite a bit of “page loading” time, I got the message that I hadn't been quick enough clicking on that activation link and would have to start over.

I entered everything again, only to be told that my selected user name was already used by another account – yeah, people, the one I already set up!!! The next user name I tried was already in use. User name #3 – same result.

Understand, I had to go back and start from scratch each time – my name, address, email information, selecting and answering three different security questions (and on the ones utilizing a date, I could not use a comma in the date in my answer). I was at the point of using some colorful language by then. Hubby was concerned I was upset with him about something until I told him what I was attempting. Then he understood.

By the time I got to a message that said I could not sign up on line and would need to call their toll-free number, I knew it was time to throw in the towel. My stress level was rising quickly. I very deliberately closed out the website and did something for a few minutes that didn't require any stress.

I will make sure when I try again that I have the phone handy so I can switch to that method before I'm ready to throw the computer – or the government – out the door! From what I can tell from preliminary information, it will be worth my time and trouble. I think I've found a positive point for being unemployed!

We took a quick trip to Dari Maid for ice cream this afternoon, then we went by the Library and I checked out a couple of books. I'm looking forward to getting into that routine......I've only been back home for 20 years, it's about time I started utilizing the Library!

Except for that one little governmental problem, it was a nice day. At least I have almost three months to deal with them and for us to get on the same page!