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Posts Tagged ‘food’

I have been quiet lately because I feel I have nothing to contribute to what is happening in the world. 

I sit here, with food and water and medical care, at least until March 31st, and am still frustrated by the length of time it takes to get aid to someone in this “modern” world. 

It is a time when our words can circle the globe in a matter of mili-seconds and yet a bottle of water takes five days to arrive.  This disaster of all disasters will perhaps be the launching ground for a new hope of recovery for future disasters.  We watched Katrina and said, “This should never happen again.” Yet, here is another country suffering without water, care and food.

Some think tank needs to sit down and figure out an answer.  Nature will always have a hand to deal to us and we need to be better prepared.

Perhaps we need a league of ships stationed and manned by alternating countries, so that rescue equipment, personnel (medical and rescue), food and water are within one to three days of every port.

That is the third thing I have thought of but the solutions have so many snags, even in my mind, that I am not certain what can be done. 

That is why I have been quiet lately. 

My hope and thoughts are with the Haitians, here and in Haiti.

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This is Irritating little Chihuahua at six weeks, January of 1999.  She is eleven years old this month, and she has her daily exercise routine.

It consists of sleeping, and

going outside and surveying her driveway, from the great sniffing of automobile tires down to the Yucca plant.  I have yet to figure out what is so intriguing about the Yucca, as it does not seem a normal “pee” spot to me, but it is on her daily route. 

It is also on her daily route to debate whether to go on down the driveway to the road.  She will look back, to see if we are watching, go a few trots, stop and look back.  This continues until I rap on the window or yell at her.  Then, she ambles off into the yard as if, “No, I never intended on going down the driveway.  I know my boundry.” 

The rest of the day is taken up with sleeping with nose buried,

and begging for food, and sleeping.  Mostly sleeping. 

Oh, and there is the occasional — jump up and give me a dirty look because she swears I touched her haunches, when she actually has a flea. 

Before I am yelled at, she has a frontline flea application monthly, as well as her heart worm pill.  She has had neurological problems with other flea applications, so Frontline it is.  This was working well for her until the St. Bernard family decided to eat our garbage and deposit their “city of fleas” in our yard.  They DO NOT get flea applications.  Chihuahua  added the garbage cans to her morning run as those St. Bernard’s leave behind all kinds of things, including their fleas. 

The St. Bernard’s eating the lid of the garbage can, to circumvent the ties and boards and anything else we could find to keep them out, finally resulted in putting the garbage cans in my studio (which I rarely use in winter).  The city of fleas resides on the ground yet, as well as the smells do.

Twice a day I comb her with a frozen flea comb, catch the fleas that freeze on it, and put them in the freezer of doom; a disposable container in the freezer.   I know this is wierd, but, yes, I have a container of frozen fleas in my freezer (Try saying that three times fast.).  On top of which, sits her flea comb.  Someday the City of fleas will all die —– I hope.

So, back on topic, the Chihuahua sleeps, eats, poops, and sleeps all day.  For ten minutes, at night, she also plays with her Taco Belle Chihuahua.   Taco Belle Chihuahua has more sewn body parts than you can imagine.  Irritating Chihuahua loves to grab it by the neck and try to knock herself sensless with it.

My fear, the year we had floods, was that our home would be flooded, fall into the pond and the Taco Belle Chihuahua would be history.  I have searched ebay, Good Will and yard sales for a back-up Christmas Taco Belle dog.  Chihuahua has a basket of stuffed toys and will occasionally play with the Turkey Buzzard and rarely with the cat mouse toy.  Taco Belle Chihuahua is her love.

Now, we have found another exercise outlet for Chihuahua: The Wii.

Yes, Gaffer brought a Wii home.  One of the games sounds rather like a bark, so she stands on the couch and barks back at the Wii.  But, bowling drives her nuts.  It took her three hours to figure out they were not throwing food for her.  She loves her Wii.  She does not understand it, but she loves it.

This is Skeeter, trying to communicate with the blue jean leg of the Wii player.  She is either saying, “Okay, where is the treat you have been throwing for three hours?” or “GO TO BED!”

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 silverware

No, this is not a picture of my new diet plate.  The food pictured is for Irritating Little Chihuahua.

She is feeling a bit better this morning.  I think that waking me up repeatedly during the night was good for her appetite.  She wants to eat but she is afraid of silverware. She does not want one anywhere near her, or her food.

The other day, husband went to put some chicken in her bowl and held a butter knife in one hand. Chihuahua jumped back so far, I thought she was going to fall down the stairs.

If I offer her my leftover oatmeal, yes she loves it, and use a spoon to scrape it into the bowl, she stays back three feet. If I use my hand to scrape it, she is right there in the way.

Somewhere in another life, she must have been terrorized by fork tines.

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In case you are taking a break from basting, I thought I would write to say Happy Thanksgiving, just one more time this week.

Our table will not look like the one in this banner; which, by the way, I stole from someone on the net.  Since I noticed a dozen other people had “borrowed” it, I figured I was safe.  I try to only use my artwork in the banner; whether it is painting or photography, but in all the albums I have scanned so far (my project for preserving the family photos), I do not have one good one of a turkey laden table.  And, this year, ham is our centerpiece.

We are taking an easy Thanksgiving.  I am doing so much better, physically, but my husband isn’t.  He has been sleeping late, going to bed early and taking a nap.  Sometimes I think he is not getting enough oxygen either (he is going on twenty years with COPD) as he will make a point and get angry that I do not understand; but whoever is in the room, will kind of whisper to me as they leave, “I don’t get it either.” 

 So, instead of our usual Ham and Turkey, we are having Ham, in honor of mom.  Not that she is a ham or anything, she is just a lover of ham.  We have also cut out the sweet potatoes and dressing; thus eliminating a big part of the left-overs.  And, you would not believe how much less stress this meal is.  Even with the additions of guacamoli and chips, and deviled eggs.

The house is vacuumed, dusted and not spit polished.  The tree is up and a little decorated.  Lights are strung outside. 

The tree and lights are also for mom, although we thought it would be nice for Gaffer to see them when he gets home.  So, I am off to get dressed (ohhh! all kinds of images in your head now, right?), get the ham in it’s pan and then go to pick up mom.

So, don’t forget, folks, that Thanksgiving is NOT about spit polish nor the amount of food you serve.  It’s about family and friends, and appreciating them and enjoying their company.  So, save your energy, have a “bring a dish” meal, or just downsize.  You will enjoy the day more.  You will be better company for your company and it will be a day to remember for laughter and not arguments.

Have a great day.

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gram-s-r-lydia

This is my grandma, with her pearls, Master’s Daughter, daughter-of-eleven and my Aunt Lydia.  Aunt Lydia never married.  She said she was never going to do what a man told her to do and, since the Bible said she had to, she just was not going to get married.  After helping her put a new door up at their house once, my father came home and said that she was the most difficult, bull-headed person on earth. 

 

My mother said that was like the pot calling the kettle black.

 

 

Grandma was a quiet, uneducated woman and once asked her son, when he came home on a visit from the military, “Do you have any of them G.I.’s in your camp?”  Everyone has a story or two about things grandma said.  She did not understand a lot of the world as it moved on past her.

 

She was not a real big talker anyway.  I mostly knew her from observing.  But, she always took the time to play the piano for me.  Her right hand had a huge tumor on it and it amazed me how she could make such beautiful music. 

 

I remember her ironing too.  She had this whispery whistle that accompanied her as she worked around the house and she was always working around the house.  I rarely saw her sit down and rest.  Even with a house full of company, she was always moving and cleaning. 

 

My aunt lived with Grandma, so I am not sure whether some of the things I remember were the result of my aunt or my grandmother.  I know when paper plates came out, they had to buy a pack.  We ate our meal on those plates and they gathered them up and took them to the kitchen. 

 

The next time I went into the kitchen, there was a clothes line of paper plates hanging out to dry.    

 

It did not matter how many children were there either, grandma always made their favorite food.  She would save out lemon pie filling for the child that liked it without the crust.  She watched and listened and, whatever food was the favorite of a child, would be waiting for them, the next time they arrived.

My funniest memory, of grandma, was walking in the door one time and hearing her yelling out, “Get Him!” Gorgeous George was wrestling on her little black and white tv and my quiet grandma was cheering him on.

This is a picture of grandma with three of her four children.  The fourth child, was a girl who died at the age of six.  Left to right is my uncle Clifford, my grandmother in blue dress (Flossie VanVleck) my father Harold and my Aunt Lydia. 

 

 

clif-gram-dad-lydia1

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This is just no two ways about it. Ten hours on the road, sucks!!! The purpose of our trip, I am traveling with mom, is to attend the wedding of my grand-niece in Wisconsin.

First is gas: The car kind fortunately. The gas crisis has brought people together. People used to pump and go on their way when gas prices were manageable. Now, they are so frustrated that you rarely get away from the pump without having a “gas price discussion” with the person at the next pump. It may turn the world into a friendlier place.

Second is food: Not all restaurants are equal. Perkins in Wyoming was fantastic. Perkins in Stevens Point, Wisconsin; not so good. They do serve a large portion of meat on sandwiches, but I would rather go for quality than quantity. A patty melt should be juicy with melted cheese and friend onions. Okay, even a small portion isn’t healthy, but if I’m going to get that cholesterol and the calories, at least I want to enjoy it.

Third is the motel: The motel is great; small, friendly and super clean. The staff is extremely helpful and pleasant.  Its name is: Americas Best Value Inn in Stevens Point and I highly recommend it, as I sit here on my free high speed.

The reason for our drive, this morning, since the wedding isn’t until 6:00 pm tonight, is that mom and I are on a quest to find a power cord for her ThinkPad. She thought she would save luggage by taking it out of its case; unfortunately, she did not take the power cord out. She thinks she can use another one though and I think when she sees the price of the power cord, she may change her mind.

Do remember, this is the woman who called me up one day and told me that she needed me to change her computer’s batteries next time I am over, as she could not get the cover off the battery compartment on the bottom. Anyone have size double A computer batteries????

Considering that the only time I got lost was IN Stevens Point, on this whole trip, which may be a record for me, I’m not sure I’m anxious to venture out to find a Best Buy. I will let you know how that goes

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