I’m Rambling Again…

I believe that words – read or spoken – can cause us to experience physical sensations. While often not nearly as intense as we may experience in other forms of stimulation, they still cause some depth of stirring. A well-written novel of mystery and suspense does, at critical times in the storyline, instill us to take a small gasp of breath, or blink our eyes; gory enough and some of us will shudder and make a face of distaste.

Anticipating the beginning of a book – postponing for a few moments the actual realization of the power formed by ink on paper, but for a moment, just a glance that it awaits us – understanding the potential of those words to touch us deeply, knowing of its ability to transport us to a place far outside ourselves, to be given the power to wander through another’s thought process…to capture a glimpse of a journey so much less mundane than our own existence – fiction or non, each compels us to explore another’s sense of perception, a way of thinking perhaps close or distant to our own. It matters not that we know the author personally, we shall still trust the written word in its entirety, believe in the places that we will travel by nature of those written words. No matter what the words are, no matter how great our need to escape to that place, listening closely, one can hear the voices as the story unfolds.

Words are needed to record for posterity the hopes and the failures of the treasures of life – past, present and future – to explain to what end we as individuals and as a society justify our means. As a society, we seek to avoid conflict yet continue to remain fully armed for it. So we do as individuals – on a smaller scale, but nonetheless – in some ways, our progress to avoid conflict is spurred on by our fear in our ability to conquer it. To conquer – to survive – to what ends do we seek the tools that will ensure our safety, be that safety real or imagined? Society retards the evolution of trust in a naïve, if not foolish, belief, we trust in a society that has no regard for trust. Yet, that society seeks to have us trust in it without question. So it is with us individually – by nature, we retard the evolution of trusting in another while simultaneously expecting that person’s blind trust in us. Trust is like an open letter that allows another to see us with little or no conscious thought or limitation placed upon the idea of emotions expressed – a pure stream of consciousness with no restraints or barriers. In the name of goodness in humanity, we push to be allowed the choice to accept another’s weaknesses while hiding our own….

Cha-Cha-Cha-Changes

(As I was typing the title, I thought about how I wished I were writing, “Cha-Cha-Cha-Ching” instead, as that might indicate I’d come into some money, won the lottery, discovered a rich old uncle I never knew I had who was a misery millionaire and had left me his entire estate in his will… Then again, I realized “Cha-Cha-Cha-Ching” could also mean I’d run into a situation that was going to cost me a lot of money, like replacing a car transmission or engine. Maybe it’s good I’m sticking with Cha-Cha-Cha-Changes.)

In my almost 63 rotations around the sun, I have seen many changes. Sometimes we have a choice about changes, but often we do not. Those are the changes I don’t necessarily like, the ones that cause me apprehension and fear. This is never more true than when it comes to technology. Sure, I own a cell phone and obviously, a computer of some kind. But I use neither to their maximum capacity and have no real desire to learn more than I absolutely need to achieve my goals. I’ve seen people’s phones with seemingly 100 or more apps, people who use their phones for almost everything they do. I have seen the commercials about how you can use your phone to turn on lights and kitchen appliances. I have seen people who synchronize their outside holiday lights to music through their phone. People do all of their banking by phone. I guess that’s great, but it’s not for me.

Recently, when my old laptop was beginning to go from bad to worse in terms of speed and the appearance of a black screen that flashed and then went solid, making me manually shut down and reboot the system, I knew I was going to have to make a change. That meant buying a new laptop. The research is endless, as are the brands and models within each brand. I wasn’t looking for something with all of the bells and whistles currently available (which, in my humble opinion, become obsolete and replaced with newer bells and whistles too quickly). I had three priorities: price, size and having a number pad on the right of the keyboard. Brand wasn’t all that important, as I’ve owned several different brands. I finally settled on one that fit my criteria, and ordered it.

So afraid was I of change that, once it arrived, I unboxed it and plugged it in to charge the battery. And then it sat. For a couple of weeks it sat. I procrastinated having to go through the technological rigamarole of getting it set up so I continued to use the old one, frustrating as it could be. But recently, the day came when I knew I was having too many problems, so the new one was set up on my desk and I was prepared to spend the hours necessary to get the system set up. I had been smart enough to download my desktop items from the old one onto a flash drive (I’d done that when it first started giving me problems, just in case). I climbed under the desk to plug the unit in. I opened the lid and found the power button (on the opposite side than my old laptop).

A female voice who called herself Cortana spoke to me and started to give me directions to set up the computer. Hmmm, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all!

As it turns out, it was a breeze! Apparently, so much of our information is now out on those technology clouds that can be retrieved without trying. I have Windows 10 (which I had on the old one), so at least I didn’t have to learn my way through a newer system. I was asked for my password, and the one from the old laptop allowed me in and onto the desktop of the new one! Color me surprised! Even my toolbar of favorites was available to me without having to set all of them up again! I was up and operational in well less than an hour! Here I’d been, postponing the change-over because I perceived it was going to test my technological illiteracy and my patience, and it was nothing to get up and running!

I still don’t like change. But this was a lesson in finding out that change isn’t always as fearful as it seems. Let’s just hope this new laptop lasts me a long time!

Hacks from My Happy Place – III

If you’re like most people I know, you serve meals with an ‘entree’, a ‘starch’ and a ‘vegetable’. That was what was considered a balanced meal when I was growing up. My mom tended to use canned vegetables because they were handy and just needed heating. We all liked corn the best, peas, green beans, wax beans and carrots were tolerable. My older brother and I fought over the lima beans (which we didn’t get very often!). Most of the time, there were always a couple of spoonfuls of the canned veggies that were left over at the end of the meal – not enough to save for any reason – so they were disposed of when cleaning up afterwards.

If that’s something that happens at your house, STOP! Stop throwing those leftover veggies away! Instead, drain any of the liquid and place them in a large zippered bag and toss it in your freezer! Every time you have a little bit of a leftover vegetable, drain it and add it to the bag. Pretty soon you’ll have a collection of mixed vegetables similar to the bags of frozen mixed vegetables in your grocery store’s freezer section. And why do those bags exist? Well, they are perfect for use when it gets cold and a big pot of vegetable soup is a hearty, warming meal! Add some beef broth (vegetable broth for you vegetarians out there), a can of diced tomatoes, juice and all, and voila, you have soup! Of course, you can add beef, whether leftover from a cooked beef roast or browned hamburger if you’re watching your budget but want to add meat. Without adding meat, that big pot of soup will, when you make it, cost you only the purchase of broth and a can of tomatoes – you basically have the veggies for free!

For this next hack, I need to give credit to Rachel Ray. I saw her do this on one of her shows, tried it, and never looked back…. Did you know that the tastiest, creamiest mashed potatoes are made without milk? I grew up learning that milk and butter (margarine) were added to cooked potato pieces to turn them into mashed potatoes. But now – and since long before I had a lactose-intolerant guest join me for meals – the secret is to use some of the starchy water from cooking the potatoes in place of milk. Most of the flavor and taste of the potato cooks out into the boiling water. By using this water instead of milk, you actually add some of that taste back in! I was surprised at the deeper flavor of potato the first time I tried this!!! I’ve also found that my mashed potatoes seem creamier. To try this, simply drain some of the potato water into a measuring cup, equal to the amount of milk you think you’d add. Melt your butter/margarine over the potatoes after they are drained and start mashing them. Then simply add the water, some at a time, until you reach the level of creaminess you desire. Then taste them! That’s right – sneak a forkful or spoonful for yourself and taste them! Life changer!

Growing up with PA Dutch heritage, summer was all about pickling. While many of you enjoy ‘red beet eggs’, I learned to pickle the beets and then make pickled eggs. My mom canned bread and butter pickles, and made a sliced cucumber and onions dish that was also pickled. If you’ve ever seen Harvard Beets in your grocery store, Harvard beets are just pickled beets with the juice thickened. If you’ve ever sampled something called Chow-Chow, you’re eating pickled raw vegetables. Pickling is very easy. The key to remember is two parts sugar to one part cider vinegar. With the red beets, you just add this to the juice you get from the canned beets. The best pickled dishes are left to marinate for at least 3 days in the picklimg juices, which allows the flavor to permeate the item(s) you’re pickling. Seriously, if you like pickles, try pickling fresh veggies of different kinds. At a picnic on a hot summer day, the taste is refreshing and cool!

If you have some hacks or hints that serve you well in the kitchen, please share them with me through the comments box. If I share them in a future blog, you’ll get full credit!

My Elusive Love

Oh, my elusive love….once you were mine for the taking. But that was years ago.

Now, you are as elusive as a ray of sunshine on a gloomy, rainy day. As elusive as the browned grass under inches of freshly fallen snow. I know you are there somewhere, waiting for me. But I also know that you will only come to me according to your own time line.

During the day, I have only fleeting thoughts of you. Busy with my daily routines, I can ignore how much I miss you. But at night, when darkness has fallen and I lay alone in my bed, you are my entire focus. I beg for you silently in my head. My need for you is strong enough to make me want to cry. I plead for you to come to me.

Only upon awakening do I know you have come to me, visited me, inspired and voiced dreams within me. But you leave too quickly – before I have had a chance to savor the time wrapped in the loving cocoon that covers me like a soft, warm blanket. In the early morning stillness, I ask for you to return to me, to stay with me just a little while longer. My need for you, while temporarily satisfied, makes me still hunger for you. I want to be satiated by you. I call out to you then, but you seldom return.

My elusive love, your absence makes me yearn for those earlier years when you were always waiting for me, both of us eager to be wrapped up in the luxury of each other.

My elusive love….. thy name is sleep.

Old Songs, Old Memories

I grew up in a musical family. This was largely because of my mom, who graduated from college with a major in music and a minor in elementary education. While she did finally get a full degree in elementary education, her first job after college graduation was teaching music at the elementary school level.

We children were “strongly encouraged” to follow her path of music appreciation. I remember all the way back to being in 3rd grade chorus in school, and sang with the school choirs through my time at college. I also sang in the church’s youth – and later – adult choirs. Of course, my mother was the organist and choir director!

My older brother learned to play trumpet. I chose the piano (like mother, like daughter). My younger brother started on the drums and later also took up the guitar. Dad? Well, he was awesome at playing the record player (long before the word ‘stereo’ was anything!)!

When high school came, I needed to figure out a way to get my very strict mother to let me attend our school’s football games (did I mention that she was very strict?) We were always permitted to be in an extra-curricular activities that included music, so…. I conned my way into the band! Unfortunately, I couldn’t just be in marching band (where I played a xylophone) but also had to be in concert band, so a French horn is what our band director decided I would learn. Let me just say these two things…. #1, our band director was an alcoholic who was never without a peppermint Lifesaver in his mouth and, #2) other than at lessons with him, I only pretended to play my French horn. That’s right – nary a note did I actually toot during any of our concert band activities!

From that, I suspect that you can understand why music has always been an important part of my life. I remember family time in front of the TV watching “The Lawrence Welk Show” and following Mitch Miller’s bouncing ball and singing along. There were old records my parents sometimes played, then the easy listening I enjoyed in the 70s and 80s and early 90s, and then a gradual switch over to being a country music fan as I am today. I never cared for hard rock and roll, can handle about a minute of rap before visibly cringing, but if you play any of the songs I either grew up with (40s and 50s) or the ones from my earlier adulthood, there’s a good chance, if I liked the song, I know most, if not all, of the lyrics.

Of lyrical songs, I like the ones that tell stories – especially if the lyrics are a bit melancholy. Not to say that I can’t, and won’t, belt out all of the words to “Friends in Low Places” or “The Devil Went Down to Georgia”; not to say I won’t sing along to the classic “Stairway to Heaven” or “Bridge Over Troubled Water”. But the more in-depth the story told by the lyrics is, sharing pain as well as joy, well, those are the songs I adore.

I remember dubbing cassette tapes and later, learning how to create CDs on my computer from downloaded wav formats. Of that effort, two CDs remain – one is TSO’s Christmas and the other just a mix of favorite songs that I related to. From time to time, I go through my collection of CDs and narrow them down even more… I’m down to about 50 now. And we won’t talk about my rather large vinyl collection, which includes records that belonged to my parents.

Now, except at Christmas, the only time I listen to any records or CDs is from my CD player in my car when I’m on a road trip. The changer holds 6 CDs, and I change out 4 of them about 3 times a year. Woody Bradshaw (a one-hit wonder and soap opera star I had the pleasure of hosting at my hotel) and The Best of the Doobie Brothers never leave the changer. During my recent change-0ver, I added the homemade CD of mixed songs (also a Kenny Rogers CD, a Broadway show tunes CD, a CD of Linda Eder).

So recently, on my last road trip to see my brother, I’m listening to these CDs. They aren’t programmed into the slots in a particular order, but the homemade one came on when I was about half-way there. I hadn’t heard these songs in some time – still knew all the words, of course! – and I’d forgotten how many of them I chose to record because there were specific memories attached to them. And maybe because I hadn’t listened to them for so long, I’d forgotten their power of evoking those memories. But they came at me like hurricane winds.

I’m sure that anyone looking at me from other lanes or perhaps in their rearview mirror wondered a little about the crazy lady apparently singing at the top of her lungs and banging on the steering wheel at certain words in certain songs. I was alive and reliving every meaning behind every phrase, but I’m sure I appeared demented.

You know what? I don’t care! It felt good to travel back to visit the times, places and people who inspired me to like those songs. I felt younger as those memories flashed by me, taking me back to those relevant times in my younger life. I reveled in the power of the lyrics as they told a story much like my own at one time in my life. And it also gave me a chance to see how I endured and survived the pain and trauma that some of those times represented.

I’m sure all of us with any appreciation of music have some “old songs” that we relate to because they represent our story in some way. I’m glad I’ve kept this CD. I think it might become the third CD with a permanent place in my CD changer. For all of the emotion and passion listening to it brings, it also serves to remind me that those times were necessary to mold me into who I am today – older, wiser and still able to belt out a tune with all of the lyrics!

Tent Dresses and Nancy Drew

For those if you not old enough to know or remember this, a tent dress is an A-line garment with the capital letter “A” shape being the narrowest at the neckline and the widest at the hem. It is shaped like a typical A-frame tent, hence the name. The tent dress was first made popular in the 1960s when women’s dresses became much less structured in style than the cinch-waist, much more tailored dresses of the 1950s.

What does that have to do with Nancy Drew books? I realize there is no real similarity, yet both items co-habitated for many years in my childhood bedroom closet.

My mother was never a ‘fashionista’, but she bought good clothing with classic lines that stood the test of time. She always took very good care of her clothing, so it stayed around. My mother was also a school teacher and started her children early on appreciating books. Birthdays and Christmas always included Nancy Drew (and the occasional Bobbsey Twin) books for me, and Hardy Boy books for my brothers. I credit her for developing my love of reading and Nancy Drew for developing my enjoyment of mystery stores, which remains my favorite genre.

My mother had a philosophy that, if you didn’t use something for six months, you probably could do without it. Old toys, games and books were passed on into the hands of children who would use them once we outgrew them. And thus, when I was just hitting my teens, those Nancy Drew books (I’d developed quite a collection) made it into the hands of younger children to enjoy. But, the tent dresses stayed tucked away in my the back of my closet. They’d gone “out of style” in less than 10 years, but my mother was certain that they would come back in style again. (Out of respect, I will say that her belief was correct, as they did make a very short reprieve in 2007.)

Meanwhile, only as an adult did I understand that, while she denied us the right to hoard things, she didn’t apply this rule to herself. There was sheet music that was tattered and yellowed with age kept tucked away; there were rows and rows of shelves my dad put up in our basement family room so she could store all of her books, there were big fat photo albums that held photos numbering in the thousands that she carefully put on those old sticky pages and stacked on a lower shelf of her bookshelf, and there were those tent dresses, covered in plastic bags from the dry cleaners and nestled in that corner of my closet.

When my dad finally retired and my parents made the decision to move to Florida, I was already grown and out of the house. Though I didn’t help with packing for their move, I suspect those dresses finally made their way to the Goodwill store, along with many other things from the household. After years of hand-me-down and ‘functional’ furniture, they were taking only their bed – which would be put in the second bedroom as an homage to Pennsylvania – and everything else would be new. Even the books, or most of them, didn’t make the cut when it came to packing to move.

By the time the short reprieve of the tent dress happened in 2007, my mother had passed away. I think, were she still living, she’d have been unhappy with making the choice to let them go. I never really understood her commitment to this style of dress, because she didn’t have a figure that needed to be hidden (mom was 5’0″ tall and, when she hit 120 on the scale, she dieted).

Or maybe I would have understood. Even though my reading has matured to a level that is beyond the storyline of Nancy Drew books, I still wish I had them. There purpose and significance in my life hold a full childhood of memories, and I know just looking at them all lined up would bring back those memories in more vivid detail. Perhaps there was a significance in my mom’s life that coincided with the trend of tent dresses, and that’s the reason she held on to them for so long?

I’ll never know and wish she were still here so I could ask her. Meanwhile, I still miss my Nancy Drew books…..

Social Consciousness

Social consciousness is “the knowledge that the wellbeing of each member of the society you live in has an impact on the wellbeing of all members of the society. It’s the realization that living in a community which cares about (and for) other people is worth sacrificing for.”

This topic arose when my brother and I were talking recently about something that I do. If you read “The Early Bird Gets the Worm”, you probably remember that I told you that I am not a patient person. I do try to be, and I do want to be. But some things just tend to frazzle me pretty easily. However, I know when I’m approaching the end of my proverbial rope, and so I tend to let the person I’m interacting with know that’s where I am and that, should I let go and lose my last tiny speck of patience, it’s not personal. In other words, I pre-apologize beforehand if I think there is a chance my “nasty” will come out.

I blame this on my 20+ years in the hotel industry. For example, a family of five is traveling for vacation. The kids are tired and whiny. They got stuck in traffic because of a roadside accident that delayed them by an hour. Their GPS took them the long way around instead of a direct route. Now everyone is exhausted and frustrated. So they enter the hotel to check-in, whiny kids in tow, and vent all of this to the agent serving them to get them checked in. And no matter how intellectually that agent understands that it’s not personal and not about them or the hotel, they tend to feel beat up and at fault somehow. Now, imagine that same person walking up to the desk and saying, “Look, it’s been a rough trip to get here and if I come off a little terse and angry, it has nothing to do with you.” Suddenly, instead of the agent building up an invisible wall against the torrent of negative emotion being tossed at them, sympathy and compassion come to the forefront and the agent is able to express that genuinely. That calms the traveler down because someone is listening to them, and it keeps the agent from building a wall which doesn’t help either of them. I’d call that a “win-win” situation, wouldn’t you?

So, is my pre-apology a part of social consciousness, or should it be credited to learned behavior in order to make sure I avoid doing to others what has been done to me – repeatedly – over the course of my career? And, in the end, does it matter?

I like thinking of myself as having social consciousness. I hope I continue to have it and use it. I’d much rather pre-empt needing to apologize than blow up at someone. If that means I’m taking unnecessary and possibly unneeded steps, so be it.

So, where do you stand on the social consciousness scale?

Hacks from my Happy Place – II

Summer is upon us, and that means we’re looking for alternatives to using our ovens and adding unwanted heat to our kitchens and homes. For those of us with a toaster oven, this is a great alternative for anything that fits the reduced size. Air fryers, crock pots and slow cookers (no, they are not the same thing) are also great alternatives. Of course, for anyone lucky enough to have an outdoor grill, that’s the way to go, weather permitting!

Foil becomes a good friend for outdoor grilling. Any combination of fresh vegetables can be put in a foil ‘pocket’ with some broth, spices, butter and folded up, then laid, seam side up, on the upper rack or far corners of the grill grate. The important thing to remember is not to put them on the hottest part of the grill grate, as they will cook too quickly. Fresh green beans, asparagus, squash, zucchini, even sliced tomatoes can be cooked with some broth and seasonings. This is a good way to make use of fresh produce as it comes in season!

Your crock pot is useful for large pieces of meat or poultry. A turkey breast, a whole roasting chicken, ham and of course, beef roast all cook well in a crock pot and require nothing but preparation time – the pot does the rest.

Slow cookers are a useful kitchen appliance to have year-round. A slow cooker allows you the additional advantage over a crock pot by having settings from warm to deep fry. It also allows you to lift the cover to stir or add without losing the heat. I always use mine when making my (semi-homemade – see my first “Hacks” entry) spaghetti sauce and for making meatballs, stuffed peppers and whatever other creations I come up with. It’s very similar to using your stove top but at a very reduced electric usage!

Your microwave can be helpful in cooking through things like potatoes, which then can be made any number of ways. My favorite is to cut slices in cooked potatoes that don’t go all the way through (make sure they are cool enough to handle!), add some butter or margarine between the slices, then wrap them in foil and cook on the grill as you would fresh produce. You can add spices like garlic, or simply serve them with things like sour cream, cheese, bacon bits, etc. and each person can top their potato as they please.

Air fryers are for more than just French fries! You can use them to bake, roast and even grill. If you own an air fryer, do yourself a favor and check out the recipes that came with your booklet. Then experiment!

When you DO have to use your oven, plan ahead! You can make multiples of things (like meatloaf) at the same time, then freeze the extras for future meals that will just need thawing and reheating.

Here’s hoping you have a cool kitchen this summer without losing the variety of great meals!

Friday’s 5 Takeaways – 5/31/19

It seems impossible that we’re at the last day of May!

Living in a small town in a rural area, the crowds come out for the annual Memorial Day parade. This year’s crowd was not as big, probably because of the weather. While not rainy (at least for the morning) it was cool nonetheless. There is charm in a small town parade, and watching the gleaming faces of parents as their children parade by always makes me smile.
I had an opportunity to be with friends for a holiday celebration. We had hamburgers, hot dogs, grilled baby lobster tails, pasta salad, cole slaw, deviled eggs and chocolate cake frosted with the creamiest peanut butter icing I’ve ever tasted (you should know that I’m not particularly fond of either chocolate cake or peanut butter frosting!). Most of all, we had a great visit together.
Here in PA, we’ve had an interesting week of weather. Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday were all days in which there were heavy rains with high winds, multiple tornado warnings across the eastern part of the state, and several tornadoes reported. While it’s quite scary to be in an area with a tornado warning, there still is awe watching the mighty power of Mother Nature at work – sheets of rain blowing sideways, long bolts of lightning piercing the sky, and slap-you-in-the-face winds. We’re looking forward to a break from it today.
Now that temperatures are warming, full-fledged midday naps will be a daily event. I’m not blessed with central air, so I rely on two window units – one in my living room and one in my bedroom. During the hottest part of the day, I tend to spend time in my bedroom, where I can close the door and keep all of that cold air circulating around me (with the help of a table fan across the room). I like naps anyhow, but this makes a decent excuse to take one without the usual guilt!
This will most likely be my last weekly takeaways post. While there is so much joy to be found in living a contented, simple life, it doesn’t give me much fodder to recite exciting weekly happenings! Hopefully, you’ll still enjoy my random posts along the way.

Meanwhile, have a relaxing weekend and a productive week ahead! And stay cool (and dry!)!

The Early Bird Gets the Worm

My title gives reference to what we know as an adage. Briefly defined, an adage is “an old and well known saying that expresses a general truth.” We know that the truth imparted by this particular saying has nothing to do with a bird nor a worm.

Some may call an adage by a number of synonyms, the most popular is probably “proverb”. For me, many of the adages I’ve learned along the way have become mantras, phrases I use to remind myself – or others – to make a point. Most adages are meant as words of encouragement or to assist in personal growth, so many of them do make excellent mantras.

However, there are a few adages out there, which, when spoken, can cause negative feelings. Whose parents never said, “I’ll give you something to cry about”? Or perhaps you’ve heard from a parent, “This is going to hurt me worse than it hurts you.” A child, upon hearing those phrases, understands frustration/anger or guilt, but certainly nothing positive or encouraging.

If you read my post entitled, “It’s a Small, Small World”, then you may recall me writing about one I remember from my childhood, my mother saying to me, “You can’t see the forest for the trees”. Again, I had no clue what she was attempting to tell me until much later in life, so there was nothing I gained from those words. Then again, the adages “Patience is a virtue” and “The path to hell is paved with good intentions” worry me a bit. I’m not the world’s most patient person (I’d reckon not even my town’s most patient person) so apparently, I’m not virtuous. And I know I often fall short of my intentions, so… Nonetheless, many of these adages/proverbs/mantras serve me well and so I will continue to use and share them.

And, if you’re interested in the history of some of these adages, I have it on good authority that a fellow blogger will soon be offering a weekly post, called “Friday’s Phrase”, delving into the creation of these lines and their history. You might want to check him out for that – and other great writings, too. His blog can be found at http://www.commonsensiblyspeaking.wordpress.com.

Do you have a favorite adage/proverb/manta in your life that serves you well? Please share it with us!