Confessions of a Grandma

When I was growing up, Sunday was a day long ritual. We dressed up and went to church in the morning. When we got home, my father read the New York Times while my mother prepared a big Sunday dinner--maybe a roast, mashed potatoes and gravy, several vegetable side dishes, usually homemade bread, and always a cake or a pie for dessert. After dinner we kids helped with the clean-up while my father dozed on the couch. After that we were expected to play quietly (not always easy for four kids with only five years between the oldest and the youngest) while my mother read the New York Times and my father watched a ball game on the television. Later we all piled into the family car for a Sunday drive. In the evening, we watched TV together--shows like Walt Disney, Wild Kingdom, Ed Sullivan , Bonanza . Sunday night supper was usually a bowl of ice cream or freshly popped popcorn with lots of melted butter and salt--the only meal that was ever eaten away from the kitchen or dining room table....

May your stuffing be tasty May your turkey be plump, May your potatoes and gravy Have never a lump. May your yams be delicious And your pies take the prize, And may your Thanksgiving dinner Stay off your thighs! Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

Mike and I will travel to Connecticut for Thanksgiving. We'll go to his brother Bill's for the turkey dinner and , since it is his brother Tom's birthday, we will probably have birthday cake. Sadly, for me, the Heberts are not pumpkin pie people. We'll stay with his sister Jeannie afterwards. On Friday the family will get together at a nice Italian restaurant. We will be celebrating Bill's upcoming 65th birthday and his official retirement. It'll be busy and fun, but with the sad note of Harvey's passing six months ago. Bill and Harvey had the same birthday, five years apart. (Just what every five year old boy wants for his birthday, a baby brother, I'm sure!) Mike has had his shopping list ready since last December--an Italian grinder at Giant Grinder in Hartford, a pound of Italian cookies from Modern Bakery, and a ball of provologne cheese from the Italian market. That's the real Thanksgiving traditional feast for him.

I have completed--in time!!--the Advent Calendars for Kristen and Dane. I started this last year. Well, no. Actually, I had given Kristen an Advent Calendar a couple of years ago--one of those with a chocolate treat behind each door--but their dog, Chopper, ate the whole thing by the second day of December. (Chocolate, foil wrap, paper calendar, the WHOLE thing) Last year I made two banners with pockets and button hangers and ribbon ties and tucked or fastened twenty-four little gifts for both the kids. I was thinking it would teach counting skills and patience as well as ease some of the "I can't wait" tension. It was pretty successful, I think. I also think that Amy and Marty (my daughter and her husband ) got as much of a kick out of it as the kids did. Anyway, it was fun to do, and they looked forward to going downstairs each morning and finding the date so they could get that day's treat. I refilled them this year. Crayons, pencils, notepads, toy dinosaurs or fun...

Arkansas Patti, on her blog ( htt p://thenewsixty.blogspot.com/2009/11/kindle.html ) recently wrote about Kindle, the electronic book. I was surprised but pleased to learn that its reading surface does not have the computer screen glare that I had assumed would be the problem. I am a regular at our small town library, shown here. The library, a mile and a half from my house, is a good destination for a walk. The librarian is always interested in acquisition requests and is great about using the State inter library loan system. It even has downloadable books for borrowing, which I have never tried. I don’t think my eyes would tolerate reading an entire book off a computer screen. That’s why I was glad to learn about the non-glare feature of a Kindle even though I am not about to run out and purchase one. I still like the feeling of a book, but I get the appeal of a digital reader. What I did see recently was a digital reader for the kitchen. You know, designed to hold recipes, menus, co...

The process of baking is a way I feed my soul. Unfortunately, afterwards I feel compelled to feed my appetite as well and partake of that which I have made. This is not such a good thing. In September, my doctor told me to lose ten pounds. So far I have just bounced up and down one or two pounds either way and not made a real serious effort. The stretch of time between Thanksgiving and New Year's--not the most auspicious time for dieting, is it. But then, I still have ten months before I go back for another physical. The sooner I fall behind, the more time I have to catch up. ~Author Unknown Yummy. Stuff it in there. (Representation of my inner child who has no ability nor inclination to delay gratification)

Everyone needs to read the November 20 post, "Wise Woman Friday: Margaret Junkin Preston," by Margaret at Finnegan Begin Again ( http://margaretfinnegan.blogspot.com/ ) I love to bake pies and breads. There is something satisfying to my soul in the very process. Lovingly prepared foods were such a part of my family's holiday traditions. I look forward to the Christmas season just for the joy of baking and sharing.

This e-mail exchange amused me so husband and son-in-law are guest bloggers today: Dear Mike (Dad), Looking forward to your visit. So that we might bond more as a family, I'm thinking you could load up on cash before you come so you can take us all out to do fun things each night. Nothing fancy, just a lobster dinner or two. And as always, please don't spend more than about $500 on a personal gift for me. After all, it is about the season, not the giving. Your favorite son-in-law, Charles.... and the reply: To my favorite Son-in-law, Charles, I don't know where to begin to thank you for the opportunity of bonding with you and the family. Olga and I are experiencing some financial difficulties and may have to limit our Florida stay so we decided that a four to six week bonding period would be perfect ( It could be longer depending on the quality of the accommodations ). We will be spending the next few days putting together a list of the types of food, wine and liquor...

I didn't get around to going for my walk until almost 3:00 yesterday. The sun was behind the hill by the time I got home. The sun is so far to the south and makes such a shallow arc from east to west that it doesn't really matter what time of day you are out, the sun is right in you eyes and your shadow is twenty feet long even at noon--so with the sun going down, at least I could see. I picked a bouquet of winter berries in a field along the way. Today it is pouring, but I'm off for a grand kids fix, so there's my sunshine for today.

Photoxpress There are people who believe that inanimate objects are incapable of strong emotion, well any emotion actually. I think they are wrong. It is very clear to me that machines hate me. I don't hate machines. In fact, I appreciate their usefulness very much. I do not, however, understand machines. They sense that. They hone in on my weakness and conspire to make my life hell on earth whenever I try to tinker with anything the least bit mechanical--punishment for my failure to comprehend the allure of gears and shafts and precision timing. Even simple tools elude my ability to master. Really, I don't consider myself an incompetent person as a general rule. Machines hate me. I have been sewing a lot in the past few days. I like my old sewing machine (a 1960's vintage Singer). I try to take care of it. Take today...I'd finished a project and figured I would brush out the dust and fiber specks and give the machine a nice drink of oil. The manual show...

I like dogs in theory. In reality, however, they are way too much work and responsibility so I have never owned one myself. I am quite content to experience dogs vicariously, which I'm able to do through three of our four grown children and the five dogs they have owned over the years. As soon as my daughter, Amy, got married and moved into a house she got a puppy--a Rottweiler puppy that she named Ziggy. He was incredibly cute as a pup--playful, affectionate, smart, and very fast growing. My dog education had begun. The American Kennel Club (http://www.akc.org/breeds/rottweiler/index.cfm) describes the Rottweiler as "robust and powerful" and as a "self-confident" animal that "responds quietly and with a wait-and-see attitude to influences in the environment." Originally bred in Germany as cattle-herding dogs, they are meant to be strong, calm and intelligent. They are workers who want a job to do. By nature they are protectors and make good police dog...

The Cabot Sock Factory in Northfield, Vermont, has an annual sock extravaganza. It started some thirty years ago and was marketed then as a diversion and destination for "hunting widows." The sale happens during deer hunting season. It has gotten so popular that a couple of years ago people had to wait in line to get into the mill and then wait again, as long as 90 minutes, to check out. Mike and I went this year. The ads all mentioned increased checkout clerks and credit card swipers, and, while the place was mobbed, it was really quick to get in and out. Mike replaced his entire sock collection. I bought a bunch for the kids and grand kids because they really are nice socks. I got cashmere blend socks and a pair of merino wool socks for myself. We bought a couple pair for Mike's brother as his 65th birthday/retirement party is coming up and we are giving him a "Made in Vermont" Basket. So that's the big excitement here. If you don't hunt in Verm...

I really read this. A woman in Texas shaved her head and pretended to be a cancer patient in hopes of collecting donations for her surgery. In fact, she did not have cancer and the surgery she was hoping for was breast implants. She explained that she was hoping that breast implants would save her failing marriage--her failing marriage of seven months duration. Lady, if it’s that broke, it cannot be fixed.

I finished (and have worn) this silk blouse. The sleeves were a trial, but if one is on backwards, they both are on backwards--so I'm able to say they were meant to be that way. I also, for the first time, played around with adjusting the pattern to get a better fit, and that seems to have been successful. Mike, who never really comments one way or the other on what I may wear, said, "That looks like it was made for your body." I guess it's kind of hard to see that from a picture of a blouse hanging on a hanger though. With the left over material, I made this simple top--the kind I've had about a hundred of over the years. It fits my body like a bag, but that's okay. I put some beading on it to give it just a little oomph. I bought a bunch of new material today. I'm tired of making doll clothes. I'm ready to start making a few things for myself again. I bought material with patterns...really ready to step out of my comfort zone!

I get a lot more exercise since I've retired. That is largely due to the fact that I can get out for a brisk walk during the daylight hours. When I was working, there were long winter stretches when I left for work in the dark and returned home in the dark. Some times I would stop off at the gym, but mostly the Big Dark just made me want to get home, put on warm pajamas, wrap up in a fuzzy blanket, sit by the fire and sip some wine. I'd pretend at being a weekend warrior, but the truth is that most of that time was taken up with shopping and other errands, cleaning, laundry, and other household necessities. This morning I was reading about a young local woman who stays motivated to do her daily running when she gets home from work in the dark. She mentioned similar obstacles--allure of the fireside, household demands, the hibernation reflex that comes with Vermont winter--but has stayed motivated to get out for a run because of a device in her running shoes that somehow communi...

I am on the verge of insanity. Really, I cannot take much more. The cluster flies are here. A sunny day and they congregate on the house like sun worshipping vacationers at the beach. But, not content to stay on the outside of the house, they squeeze through any available crack or crevice, no matter how microscopic. Of course, once in, all they want to do is go back out again. One fickle, feckless fly is banging at the office window as I sit here now. I was driven out of the living room by a dozen fat, lazy, disgusting, buzzing, bumbling cretinous creatures circling the front window. If you are not familiar with cluster flies, you may think my berserk reaction is over blown; but if you know cluster flies, you know exactly why they are making me CRAZY. That buzzing is like a drill on my very last nerve. Seriously, the lights go on at 4:00 p.m. around here. You can't sit and read by a lamp or watch a little television without clueless cluster flies bombarding every light so...

This morning's Burlington Free Press showed several pictures of hundreds of people who had lined up at Colchester High School on Saturday morning (some as early as 4:00 AM, one with seven week old baby tucked in a down jacket!!) to wait for the H1N1 flu vaccine. Yikes! It's one thing to line up in the wee hours outside of WalMart on Black Friday to score the latest "Tickle Me Elmo" or "wii" system (not something I would ever do, BTW), but this is flu vaccine. Have we not been hearing about the "swine flu" threat for at least the past three years? Fox News assures us that we, in the USA, have the best health care system in the entire world. So how is it that there is not enough vaccine by now? FOX, POX! A couple of days ago, we went to the cemetery in Graniteville, Vt, to visit the grave of Mike's grandfather, who died in the 1919 flu pandemic. Harvey Hebert was 28 years old at the time of his death. A flu pandemic is not something we are real...

I have been finding it difficult to concentrate on reading lately. Partly this is due to my eyes bothering me--"floaters" make it look like little bugs are flittering over the pages. This also makes it hard to clean as I scrub away at spots that are not there or I leave actual spatters untouched. Eating...well one would think I'd be losing those pesky ten pounds what with the little critters crawling on my plate and in my glass. I do wish that was working. We'll see what the eye doctor has to say later this week. So for not being so focused, picking up The Story of Edgar Sawtelle by David Wroblewski was a curious choice. (The librarian's comment was, "You haven't read that yet?") I got through it, but I can't say I am better off for the experience. Vesna, a woman in the writers group at the library, often says my writing reveals my slavic heritage so maybe I should have liked it more. Or maybe I need to work on lightening up my writing...

Here is the difference a weekend of blowing wind and dropping temperatures made to our landscape. The bright leaves are gone. Bare branches, gray skies, dark by 4 p.m.--lovely November.

Well, today I read on another blog ( http://www.imagineomit.blogspot.com/ ) about the art of baragami. I love learning new crafts so I was excited. This art of toast (yes, as in cooked bread) arranging is further detailed at this site-- http://www.messybeast.com/baragami . It's too funny. In my early forties, I had a toast related break through. I had suffered through a bleak and debilitating bout of depression but had finally reached the light at the end of that particular tunnel. Anyway, I burned the toast for my breakfast one morning. I scraped the black off into the sink, buttered two slices, and was bringing a slice to my mouth when it hit me...NEWS FLASH...I didn't have to eat burned toast. I threw that burned toast away and it was such a liberating feeling. I deserved delicately browned toast and that is what I was going to have!

A post on http://oklhdan-musingsamiddleagedwoman.blogspot.com/last Monday (11/2/09) brought up the issue of couples with opposing political views. I related to this. Mike and I have different views on politics, on what news network to watch, on religion, on what television shows/movies to watch, on the temperature of the house at night, on what time to go to bed or what time to get up in the morning, and so many other issues. All these differences are non rancorous. But then, there is the issue of food. As in so many other areas, he is so wrong here, but this is where he draws the line in the sand; this is where he will not budge an inch; this is where things can get ugly. His mother was born in Sicily, but he will not eat tomato sauce. He will not touch "Italian" seasonings. He will eat most vegetables, but only raw, never cooked. He doesn't like garlic. He will not eat an onion in any form, under any circumstances (unless grated so finely that he doesn't know it...

It appears that Maine voters have voted against the freedom to marry law enacted earlier this year. I have to say I don't understand why. If you don't believe in same sex committed relationships, don't enter one. I sometimes wonder why certain issues are even subject to debate. There's the Right thing and there's the right thing to do. That's my opinion and I'm sticking with it.

Yesterday I watched the Oprah show. It was all about shoe and handbag makeovers--you know how the "right" shoes and bags can make you look ten years younger and ten pounds thinner. Apparently the "right" shoes always have high heels and pointy toes. Needless to say, I would be in dire need of a shoe makeover since I foolishly and unfashionably insist in being able to walk once I put my shoes on. I like shoes and I can't say I never put on heels, or even that I've never worn a sexy pair of stilettos, but generally I like walking and I prefer being pain free. Besides, sexy and fashionable are every bit as much "in the eye of the beholder" as beauty. I've seen pictures of Chinese women with their "lily feet" and somebody once thought that was the epitome of feminine beauty--but it sure wasn't pretty. I'll just stay unhobbled at this point in my life.