Nuts! Nuts! Nuts!

The UPS truck rarely stops at our home. Last night's delivery was a surprise. The box read, "Nuts Online" so I figured it had to be from someone who knew I was a bit nutty, BUT...I can't eat nuts! I have no "chewers" so it had to be from someone who didn't realize that fact.

The next thing strange was the delivery label. It was an address we had up until 1997 when we moved to the other side of the lake. Who hasn't contacted me since 1997???

Mystery solved. The greeting inside revealed a dear sweet friend from Hawaii, with whom I've been only e-mailing and not "snail-mailing."

The best part of the surprise was that this friend remembered that my favorite, my VERY favorite candy is marzipan!! And, although it comes in many different shapes and forms, the fruits are the ones for me; limes, strawberries, oranges, peaches and apples!

I cannot express enough the thrill when I saw them. It's an extremely strong willed person like me, who loves marzipan and doesn't immeditely rip into it and gobble it all up in one sitting. I WILL do that, I promise you, when I'm better prepared and then hit the sack with a superb sugar high.

Addendum: This morning when my husband was disposing of the shipping container the candy came in, I had painful moments because of laughing so hard. He had opened the box to fold and compact it for recycling, not realizing it was full of packing peanuts and they went all over the floor. Have you ever tried to hand pick up those little white puffy nuts? Well NUTS! is all he could say. There are now nuts to eat, nuts for shipping, and a nut on the floor.

Hardships? Maybe Some...

Someone recently commented to me, "I can't believe you've never had a manicure." My reply was something like, "I can't miss something I've never had." That was that. Today my mind drifted back to that comment so here I am again - writing about having, missing, wanting, needing - you get the idea.

I've never had a manicure, a pedicure, a relaxing massage, a facial, a waxing; what else is there I should include?

I have had a clothes washer and clothes drier. I haven't had either for the past 15 years. I miss them! Oops! Forgot that I don't have a "real" dishwasher anymore either.

I don't miss, want or need the personal care services, but I could make good use of a clothes washer! The trip to town is only five miles each way. There is a singular small laundromat there, but to it I go - every week or at least once every ten days.

Spring Summer

It seems to be such a waste of time, waiting for the process to be complete. In the warm weather, I hang clothes outdoors. Ummmmm! Good vibes and wonderful smells emit from freshly air dried laundry. In cold weather, there I wait and wait and wait, contemplating all sorts of projects yet to be completed at home.

Winter

It is what it is. My choice. It's FINE! YEP!

James is Ready for Winter

I used seven 14" sections for the scarf. You can't see the other colors (in back) of red and grey. I made them 12 inches wide. He is larger around than I thought! Maybe when it rains the fleece will stretch some more. It was cheap! $2.94 yard at Walmart. I bought only 12 inches of the seven colors and only used 1/4 of each color, so I have enough left over for 3 more scarves! That's why I used the colors I did. The patterned fleece was costlier. My sweater-cut-off-into-hat worked well. My pom-pom is attached with a very large safety pin (aluminum knitting holder). The yarn for the pom costs over half as much as the fleece! I remembered how to make them and made it large. All in all, I like it! We'll see how well it lasts through rain and snow. If it doesn't, well then I'll have to think up another way to keep him warm!

Now if it would only snow I could take another photo and use it for holiday greeting cards!

Persimmons Payoff

This September caper happened in a campground by the ocean in the state of South Carolina.

You would have loved to see me go to the one and only (that I could find) persimmon tree every early morning for two weeks to sit on my golf cart and wait for a persimmon to fall! Let me explain: There were many already on the ground, but they were bruised, rotting and bitten. The squirrels get to them first, leaving remains of seedless fruit everywhere - even on the picnic tables and electric hookup fixtures at the campsites.

As soon as I would see or hear one fall, I gathered it, put into my plastic cup and waited for another. After gathering about 5 each morning, I went home, washed and put my treasures in the refrigerator. One morning I even took a straw broom with me and whacked at the branch but none would release and fall! After I had two pounds of them, I had a friend find a persimmon jelly recipe on the internet and made jelly! (I went to another neighbor to weigh my fruit on her bathroom scale to be sure I had enough!) Looking back, I guess everyone knows by now that I'm harmless.

What a mess this project made with my meager kitchen equipment when making the pulp. It was sticky and gooey stuff everywhere, but I was determined. After the jelly had cooled and I tasted it, I didn't like it! Too sour. I added some more honey, took a roll of Pillsbury biscuits, flattened each out, put a glob of jelly in the middle, topped it with another flattened dough piece, pinched all around, dunked in sugar and baked TARTS! Now THEY were delicious! I shared with my assistants - researcher and weighmaster, who also agreed wonders will never cease.

The end of this story is that another neighbor told me she has tubs of the stuff frozen at home in NC and will bring some to me the next time. Well, she did and then proceeded to share her persimmon pudding that she baked for me to taste. It's really a cake and delicious. I now have her recipe and will share it. She also will bring me more tubs when we're both at our beach places in South Carolina so I don't have to make my own pulp again! Whew!

Reflecting and Contemplating

1937

I had a really good childhood during the 30's and never knew I was living in an economically stressed time. The only indication I consciously knew there were "problems" was during the time my dad took our cat and her kittens to a farm because they were" too much." My twin sisters had just been born. The year was 1942. I enjoyed the privileges of being an only child until I was three. When my brother was born, I don't remember any changes and, after the twins came, I still don't remember feeling less important or neglected at all. My ego and self esteem and self-importance were completely undamaged and elevated. I absolutely lived in my own happy world. I was the apple of my father's eye, my uncle's eyes, my grandpa's eyes and I knew it.

As a young teen I still felt special. Perhaps it was because my mother spent so much time and effort promoting modeling aspirations with me. I don't remember wanting to be a model, but being considered to be "pretty" my best guess is that my mother wanted it both for herself and me. She was on a mission and I was also to benefit??

That lasted until I was around fifteen and by then, I had become confident, bold and even adventurous, relying on both my higher than average intelligence and appearance. My emotional stability was ruined at age seventeen when the first and only real love of my life married someone else. It was my own fault, because I turned him down by refusing to live in a trailer on a marine base. I didn't know that a trailer was a home and thought it was a big ugly box that is usually pulled behind a truck! Complete miscommunication through written correspondence did the damage to my psyche. It was a naive and costly mistake. I now trace this crisis back to the beginning of my innermost self and personality deterioration and future reconstructions.

1955

I married at nineteen, not having any idea about how to keep house, raise children, and take good care of myself and a husband as well. Now, I guess that's because I believe I was taught by example and not by actual and clear communication. Yes, I knew how to bake, sew, iron, launder, and work hard. No, I didn't realize that children had needs other than being kept clean, safe, well fed and sheltered. I knew about discipline and thought that was what was expected of a mother. Love? That was assumed, wasn't it? Having full responsibility of caring for four kids under the age of five was one I did to my best understanding of the qualities belonging to a mother and wife. My kids were never left alone, dirty, or hungry and their injuries were promptly treated. Their emotional needs weren't considered. I hadn't grasped that. It never registered in my mind to be a duty. It just didn't come naturally.

1960

At age twenty-five I divorced and remarried.

1962

Things went well through my 30's, and two more children were born.

1968 1970

In my 40's my self esteem had almost totally recovered when an unsuspected striking blow of infidelity crippled and almost killed me. Hate and jealousy zoomed forward. Trust and restraint and power vanished. It's a wonder I ever returned to be alive. But I did and without professional help or medication.

Then, in my 50's, a son's mental illness and alcoholism took me to the bottom of the pit again. I tried with all my might and every way imaginable to save him and failed. Finally, in my 60's I let him go and recovered. The encumbrance of perceived responsibility was released and restoration hurdles were again cleared. There are lasting effects, however. Hurt once, I turned away. Hurt twice, I walked away. Hurt thrice, I ran away. I've stayed away. Now I trust no one but myself. I NEED space - much space. I NEED release and escape. I am bound by my roots. I want to be understood, but I don't understand. I've returned, but all of me is not here. Much was lost.

GMR 8/23/10

Back 38 Years Ago.......

In 1972 my Pop was 65 and fishing at the lake in Pennsylvania where he and my Mom had built a log cabin, named "Tranquillity." It was a quiet and peaceful retreat for them from their New Jersey home and active lives.

Yesterday, when my husband was searching for a red and white "daredevil" lure, he looked to the bottom of the ancient tackle box. The rugged and dilapidated old-fashioned box has remained in a storage shed on the property where we now live, and under a multitude of broken parts and sundry fittings, there he discovered the license. It was in pristine condition, protected all through the years by a deteriorating plastic pin-on holder.

Reminders of the past seem to come forward quite often in our present. I wonder what our past reminder will show up in someone's future.

A non-resident license today costs $52.70!

The Tree Stump Carving

Part 6

For four months the stump aged and then time was found to create "James."

The carver is my friend. His wife was one of my 4-H club members 35 years ago!

I have kept touch with her through the years and they have 4 kids. The oldest (daughter) took over a large Arabian horse farm nearby us a couple of years ago. Our daughter took lessons there for several years when she was small and one of our mares was boarded there to foal because she was accidently bred already when I bought her and she gave birth in January. She and I camped out in the tack room and saw the foal born. The carver's wife worked at that farm then and still does now - for her daughter!

Small world! The past sometimes returns - in a different way at a different time. I guess the saying, "What goes around, comes around." is true.

The carver has done all our tree work here and for that, I'm grateful. He works a full time job, does the hay for his daughter's farm, trims and cuts trees AND sometimes carves! He's also a great father to his other son (17) and his twin sons (13). I'm privileged to know them all.

I gave him full artistic license to let the stump talk to him and carve as he determined. The large bleeding knot on the right side of the stump was the deciding factor in what way "James" would face. How wonderful the result!

I call him the "Guardian of the Cabin." His likeness resembles my great-grandfather, James Marshall.