Waiting for Supper

I think this is so neat. I saw it on a blog that I accidentally found yesterday. I can't remember which blog it was now, but I thought it looked so tranquil. Just a quiet supper in a rustic setting. Just you and your candle. And maybe a book too. I even went out at lunch yesterday to Walmart and bought a small crystal candle holder and a white candle similar to this one with the intention of lighting it at every meal. Usually I eat at the dining room table and read a book while Eddie eats in his recliner and watches TV. When we do both eat at the dining room table, he always lights a bigger candle that we have in the center of the table. I could light it too, but somehow the single white candle seems so ceremonial somehow. Kind of like, this is my time for eating, reflecting and reading and just time to be quiet for a little while. Sort of like taking a bubble bath without the bubble bath.

I wish I could light a candle at work in my office during lunch, but they won't let us because it's a fire hazard. Sort of kills the mood.

Mary Kay Mug

Darn it. Eddie was canning tomatoes yesterday and accidentally knocked over my Mary Kay Lipstick Mug. It was one of my favorites, but I hope my Mary Kay consultant can get another one for me. I kind of doubt it though. She didn't seem to think that she could. I found one on Ebay and bid on it, so we'll see what happens. Mine didn't look exactly like the one above, but it was very similar.

Things have just been crazy lately. We've had 2 deaths last weekend and both on Saturday. One death was my half-brother's other half-sister. I didn't know her and had never met her, but it affected him and then in turn affected me. He's feeling pretty bummed out right now. He feels like all of his family is falling apart. The other death was a good friend of my cousins. She had become my friend too, even though I wasn't as close to her as he was. She passed away last Saturday and she was only 49. My cousin is pretty bummed out too. I didn't think I would cry, but when I got to the church where the service was being held and saw all the flowers, and everything I just lost it for a few minutes. She had been cremated, but there were lots of pictures of her s a young woman and mother. It was very emotional.

The other things that are going on are with my mother. She has been having some trouble with her thigh and knee. She went to an orthopedic doctor who ordered an MRI and the results came back fine. He said it wasn't anything orthopedic and that there was nothing he could do to fix it. A couple of years ago she had an anuerysm that she had surgery for. A stent was put in to repair it and since then it has steadily been shrinking. The last ultrasound she had showed that it had gotten a little larger. The orthopedic doctor said it could be pressing on a nerve or something and causing my mother pain in her leg. I just don't know what to think. It's all so stressful worrying about everything and wondering if she's going to be ok or is she going to have to go through another surgery at 87 years old. And then, will she survive it. And if she does, what kind of recovery will she have to go through? One of my cousins told me that I need to stop worrying about things that I have no control over and turn them over to God. I know that's what I need to do and I have turned them over to God, but it's hard to not worry.

Daydreaming

I can always tell when I need a vacation because I start daydreaming about dream jobs like travelwriting. I imagine that I'm going to an exotic place like Europe or Hawaii or Italy or someplace like that and that I'm going to write all about it by keeping a travelogue or journal. What got me started with all this longing for out of the country travel was watching the movie Under the Tuscan Sun. The scenery was beautiful. I love the way Frances Mayes writes. This is a web site I found with an exerpt rom her book A Year in the World of Frances Meyer. Oh to be able to write like that. It's a gift.

I found this website that has all kinds of photos of someone's travels to Italy. Beautiful!

New Southern Writer

I found a new southern writer whose work I really love. Her name is Pamela Duncan and to date she's written 3 novels. Moon Women, Plant Life, and the most recent title that came out this month is The Big Beautiful. She writes real, stories about real southern people and southern life. Right now I'm reading Plant Life. I love her way with words and dialogue. Most are expressions and language that I've heard all my life. I'm amazed that anyone else knew these expressions and used them in conversations. I can't wait to read the other 2 books.

Blaize Clement Website

I've discovered a new author who writes cozy mysteries with an animal theme. I can't wait to get her books and read them.

I really like what she says in her biography about what she thinks about people she meets for the first time.

When I meet somebody for the first time, I don’t give a gnat’s patootie where they were born or what school they went to or how they make their living. I want to know their favorite color, their favorite book, their favorite movie. I want to know what they’re passionate about, what makes them get up every morning, what they believe in.

This is pretty much my philosophy too. I am not impressed with degrees, education, wealth. The things I'm most interested in when meeting people and making friends are how genuine and honest are they? How loyal, what their favorite books are and everything else Blaize Clement said in the above exerpt from her biography.

I guess this must be because I never grew up with educated people. Not that they were ignorant at all, but it's just that all of the people I grew up around were real, genuine, down-to-earth people without pretentions. Just real. No one tried to impress anyone else with their educational level, their salary, or what college or university they went to, or what type of degree they had. We didn't worry about getting ahead and making more money, we just worried about doing an honest days work for what we were paid, and were very happy to be doing it and felt very fortunate to have a job at all.

Happy Birthday

Yesterday was my birthday and today is Eddie's. I was 54 yesterday and he is 59 today. We were supposed to go to Eddie's mother's house Saturday for our birthday dinner and she called around 12 and said that she was sick with a stomach virus. She had diahrrea and was throwing up. I found out this morning from Eddie's sister that their mom was so weak that she went to the hospital ER and they put her on an IV for a couple of hours to restore some of the fluid she had lost. I haven't talked to her since then, but I think she's feeling better now.

We went to my mom's yesterday for my birthday and it was for both of us. My mom gave me some soft Lovemates houseshoes and a squishy sponge like you use with body wash. My mom believes in giving you things you can use, not fun stuff. I love the houseshoes, don't get me wrong, but she usually doesn't get fun type stuff. She gave Eddie a tie and some aftershave.

We had a really good dinner at my mom's. She had ham, pinto beans, yams, a broccoli casserole and cornbread. No cake because she knew I wanted it but didn't need it. I really think that everyone should have cake on their birthday whether they need it or not, so I was a little disappointed about that.

The other day when my mom and I were talking on the phone we were talking about my dad and I asked her if she had his miliary discharge papers and if she did I wanted to see them. He was in the army during WWII from about September of 1942 and was out by April 1943 (only about 7 months). He was injured on a trunk. He was riding in the back of the truck with some other soldiers. He was up close to the cab window. The driver had to put his brakes on fast for some reason and when he did everyone in the back was shoved up near the front where my dad was and this resulted in them crushing my dad and injuring his ribcage somehow. He was never the same after that so I guess he was honorably discharged because of the injury.

My mom keeps all of her important papers in a fireproof metal box. She has all of her birth certificates, death certificates, insurance papers, etc. in that box. She also has her will, which I've already seen, and her funeral instructions. I was so afraid she was going to get that funeral stuff out and start talking about all that. Thank goodness she didn't, but she did say that she had changed her mind about what she wanted to be buried in and showed me the suit that she wants to be buried in. I wondered to myself how many other people get their parents to talk about their funeral instructions on their birthdays. I can see her wanting to tell me these things, but on my birthday? It sort of ruined my day.

On a good note we did talk about old times a little. When I was in grammar school she worked for a short time in the school cafeteria. She reminded me about those cookies they used to have. They had two different kinds that I remember: peanut butter cookies and chocolate cookies. They were made from scratch with a cookie dough that was refrigerated. After the dough had chilled, they took them out of the refrigerator and rolled them into a ball. They placed them on a cookie sheet and then flatten them slightly by making a criss-cross pattern with a fork. My mom said she always liked to put a half pecan on top of hers and they were so good that way. I had forgotten all about it. Sometimes she would bring home some leftover cookie dough and make them at home. That's when she put the pecans on hers. I know they never put pecans on them at school. I guess it would have been too expensive.

Now I want to find a chocolate cookie dough recipe like that so I can go back and taste those cookies with the pecans on top, just like my mom used to make them.

Lady Peabury

"Lady Peabury was in the morning room reading a novel; early training gave a guilty spice to this recreation, for she had been brought up to believe that to read before luncheon was one of the gravest sins it was possible to commit."
An Englishman's home (1939)

Evelyn Waugh 1903 - 1966

Willow House

I'm reading a book by one of my favorite southern writers, Lee Smith. The title of the book is On Agate Hill and it's set in North Carolina right after the Civil War.

When I'm reading a book and I find a section of the book that I particularly relate to or enjoy, I like to write it down in my journal so I can remember it. In this particular exerpt, some children are playing on the grounds around the plantation in an area they have come to name Willow House.

"It is cool and green in the Willow House. Long lacy branches fall down around us making a screen for perfect privacy, so none can see where we sit on our three white rocks to read or eat a fancy lunch on magnolia leaf plates.... While we are in the Willow House, time stops still it seems, and all we can hear is the music of the river in our ears.

And the most exciting part -- though we have not seen them yet -- Mary White and I have reason to believe that a band of fairies comes here also. Mary White knows all the fairies and now I do too. They wear little green jackets and red caps with an owl feather sticking up at a jaunty angle. They come to ride the frogs and hunt the skittery waterbugs that play back there in the shallows. They live on fried waterbugs and flower pudding, Mary White says. One day we surprised these fairies and almost saw them -- but they flew away fast on their gossamer wings leaving only a rainbow shimmer in the air and an owl feather floating in the little pool by the littlest rock where it went round and round in a magic way for as long as we watched, until Mary White plucked it up from the water to put in our collection of phenomena. Mary White says the fairies are coming back soon, she can feel it. She says we must go to the river in the light of the moon if we really mean to see them. So we are planning to do this on the next full moon. I can not wait.

Another thing we play is dolls, though my china doll Margaret is very old, having belonged first to Julia and Rachel when they were girls. Her painted hair was all gone on one side but now Mary White and I have made her some more with bootblack, so she looks fine, and her blue silk ballgown is especially elegent. Underneath she wears a chemise, a petticoat, and pantalettes, feather-stitched and herringboned, made by Julia. Mary White can not get over Margarets pantalettes!

And in truth I like Margaret old as she is far better than Mary Whites wax doll Fleur which is much larger, able to open and shut her eyes and say Mama and Papa quite plainly. But Fleur is too much of a baby doll for me. I like a doll who is old enough for romances and flirtations."

Taken from On Agate Hill by Lee Smith