Goodbye Summer.

 

A very special recipe

It was a very good weekend! It was a very busy weekend! For the first time in a very long time, I made spaghetti sauce using my own tomatoes. For years I've planted tomato plants and never had enough ripen to make spaghetti sauce.  But this year, we moved the location of the garden and I had a great deal of success!  The recipe I used for the sauce is the one that my husband's grandmother used.  I can still remember the Saturday she came over - a short little 90+ old girl - with all of her canning paraphernalia. My daughter sat on a tall stool and wrote the recipe into our cookbook as 'little grammy' dictated each step. I'm so glad that we did!  Memories are made in strangest, most obscure kind of ways.  And this year is all about the memories we've made.  

These made me cry - alot!

A little post-canning relaxation

Just some of the spaghetti sauce I canned

And it is Wednesday.

Sometimes the only thing that helps is a cold IPA and a trip back in time. And yes, the cat was home.

 

Another Thursday in captivity.

Summer transitioning into fall is such a beautiful process.  I will miss the fresh tomatoes from my garden but tasting my canned spaghetti sauce in the middle of winter will be a reminder of all that is good about summer. It's no secret that I'm not a fan of summer but I do appreciate the benefits. As I go into winter, I will keep the good memories of the summer despite the fact that summer 2020 sucked at least 99.9% of the time. 

In Paul Anka's song, Times of your Life, I just love the lyrics that say, ". . . memories are times that you borrow, to spend when you get to tomorrow". So true. I truly enjoy reliving the good times I've had with my parents and my grandparents, my aunts and uncles. I love thinking about people who have been in my life and then moved on - whether by death or by miles.  

Autumn memories get me through the dog days of summer. And summer memories get me through winter's cardboard tomatoes.
 

Getting closer.

What a great weekend it was! I really enjoyed the cooler weather, the not sweating, the sunshine, and the 3 days that I didn't have to sign into my computer. I did sign into my computer, but I didn't need to. 

 

I did things that I enjoyed over the weekend. Watched my nephew wrestle, spent time with family, baked, and read. I planned on sewing - trying to get a quilt quilted - but it was just too nice to spend inside. My time was better spent outside. 

It seemed that everyone was happy this weekend or maybe it just seemed that way because I was happy. I know that Labor Day was not one of my mom's favorite weekends because in a sense, it ended summer which she loved. I can remember how irritated she would get if I (or anyone else) said anything about fall or the starting of school (back in the days when school didn't start until after the holiday). I agree that there is a bittersweet aura about this time but it is one of those nice feelings - the feeling that soon there will be days during which cuddling up in quilts with a good book and a cup of coffee will be the only things accomplished.

I honestly look forward to the darkness and the cold. Maybe that reflects my personality which is definitely not brightness and warmth. For now I am happy with this transitional period of gathering what's left in the garden, decorating my Halloween treat, making soups, and generally, preparing for the cold months.

 

It is Thursday.

 I love this photo.  Just a simple picture of an annoying rooster standing in front of the basement.  He's a poser but he's harmless.  This is unlike some of the beautiful barred rock hens that I dearly love but who peck my feet if I'm not quick enough with the feed (those little peckers!).  This year we purchased chicks from TSC because all of our hens are wayyyyyyy beyond the age of egg-laying.  Usually TSC is really good in separating their chicks into breeds but not our TSC this year!  So we bought a few hodge-podge chicks.  One of them looks like some bizarre crossbreed of Silkie and barred rock, complete with feathery feet - or claws - depending on how you look at them.  2 are clearly barred rocks which are beautiful black/grey speckled. 2 turned out to be some odd kind of mini-chick that lay super small eggs.  And then we have the 2 brown ducks.  

They are a family and I love that they are.  The ducks are clearly a couple and they waddle around the yard side-by-side with the chickens following close behind.  They jump in the little pond together, drink from the goat's water together, have breakfast together, and then finally, make their way to the coop so that they can all sleep together.

In the midst of all the hate of the world, I love watching all these different little beings live together in peace.  

Great day for a hike.

To celebrate my birthday in this weird year, my daughter, son, and future daughter-in-law went hiking. Thousands of other people joined us. I don't like being around a lot of people, even when it isn't COVID season.  But during that day, it didn't annoy me a bit.  

There are a couple reasons why the hordes didn't bother me. One reason is because the hike was insanely beautiful! It is hard to be around that much natural beauty and be annoyed. Another reason is because that was the first time around more than a few people in several months and we weren't all that close together. It's a forest and there is acres of space to roam.  

I wonder what it would have been like to be the first person to ever lay eyes on these beautiful falls, the natural pools, and the caves! Sitting at my computer for all these months, it is easy to forget that there is such beauty out there. 

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So many changes

My mom died. Those three words seem so surreal. She was here on a Saturday-I talked to her, had a heart attack Saturday night, I talked to her Sunday morning, and by 1:00 Monday afternoon, she had flown off to be with my dad.

I don't know how to process this information. I started this post nearly a month ago.  Couldn't finish it.  I was lucky because I had a good mom.  So many others didn't.  I still can't believe she's not on this earth. I go to call her and tell her about a show I found that was filmed in her hometown and I realize that I can't.  There are so many things I wish I had told her or asked her.  

She was a good mom. She put up with me and my crazy ideas. She tolerated (and often supported me in the aftermath) of many stupid decisions. 

She was a good mom. If you still have your mom, give her a hug, give her a call, spend time with her.  It sounds trite but it is true.  No amount of sewing, no comfort food, no wine, or beer or liquor will ever fill the void.  

And if I happen to be your mom, know that I love you.

Happy 4th!

 I spent this 4th of July with my dogs, cats, chickens, ducks, pony, and goat. It was so incredibly hot and humid - nearly unbearable! Thank goodness for a cool creek, a covered deck, and lots of fans!

These days I'm feeling quite restless - like most other people I suppose. I've lost much of the faith I've found over the past few years. I don't really like how I feel right now but I know that these feelings will pass.

June was a month of crazy, crazy news: good news, enlightening news, scary news. . . . .  There has been so much change this year already that I'm not ready to deal with more.  I want things to be stable for a little while. 

It's important that I keep myself grounded at times like this and it is getting harder and harder to do.  I'm happy enough but I'm feeling a shift in things. I need to keep in mind that I have many things to hold on to and there is really no need for me to be scared or nervous. 

Until I feel as if I'm on solid ground, I know that I have my family - both human and animal.

The wayward cat returns.

 

 Pappy Decker actually returned over 2 weeks ago. Standing on my deck, talking to my daughter, I heard a familiar meow - lo and behold! There was Pappy Decker sashaying across the yard.  I ran down the steps, sat down, called him and he immediately ran to me, purring loudly all the way. 

I wish I could say that the other cats were as thrilled as I was to have him home but that would be a lie.  The 'girls' were not impressed at all and there was a lot of hissing and growling the first few nights.  It was as if they didn't know Pappy Decker at all!

Comfort in Needles

Some handwork that I'm doing

  Not that kind of needle.  Sewing needles. I've never tried the other kind.....well, until recently.  I sliced my thigh open with a very sharp seam ripper about 2 weeks ago.  I don't know what kind of needle was used, but 8 stitches were used to sew me up and some kind of needle was used to make my leg numb.  

But then, that kind of needle did actually give me comfort too.  I just don't want to make a habit of it.  Today was day #3,465 in captivity and I am in no hurry to get out.  In fact the more I stay in, the more I want to stay in.  I've been experiencing mild panic attacks when I drive more than a few miles away from home which, fortunately, I don't have to do very often.

My early birthday gift to me: a wicker sewing basket

There is something about the tools used in hand sewing that just gives me comfort and calms me: thimbles, needles, thread, those little tomato pin cushions... .I love them all.  I'm not sure why it is but it has always been that way.  I remember when I was a little girl, I used to love to look at the crafts section in the Worldbook Encyclopedias that we had.  The section - it may have fallen under folk art - included quilting, dollmaking, patchwork, etc.  It just always fascinated me that something so beautiful could be made with such few and so little tools.  I remember that my grandparents bought me a wicker sewing basket for Christmas or for my birthday and I used to carry that thing around with everything I needed to make clothes for my Barbie dolls.  To this day, if I'm in a fabric store, I always have to check out the sewing baskets.  For a little early birthday gift to myself, I just bought a wicker sewing basket and use this beautiful fabric featuring tuxedo cats, that I've been hoarding for years to make a basket liner.  

When I wake up in the middle of the night panicked, when I've had a rough day at work, when I feel sad, helpless, or alone and when I feel happy and thankful, I pick up a needle and sew.  

At my window.

Pappy Decker - missing since 5/24/2020

I'm still here. Still working from a 6' x 6' space in my bedroom. 

I've seen a lot of things in my 10 weeks in this space: a new fence being built by the neighbors across the way, 2 working horses being delivered to this new pasture, a barn being built, 3 people buried in the graveyard across from me with one of those people being the husband of a friend. This friend is in a nursing home and was unable to attend the burial in fact, there were only 5 people at the burial.  I didn't know that it was going to be this morning and I watched while being present in a zoom meeting that talked about how it was very likely that I will still be in this space months from now.  I'm really hoping that the 4th graveyard burial will not be a friend of mine who I just found out, was placed on hospice over the weekend.

Last Sunday, my kitties knocked out a screen that I hadn't secured and escaped.  Mrs. Bobbins was sitting right outside the window, Oreo was waiting for me on the deck, and Thimba was hiding - terrified - in the weeds beside the deck.  But no sight of Pappy Decker.  We've talked to all of the neighbors and everyone in the valley knows that he is missing.  He's such a friendly, happy cat that I'm just afraid that someone thought he would make a good pet (he would!) and decided to take him for themselves.  As much as I want him back, I just want him to be happy wherever he is. 

Right now the wind is whistling making my curtains flutter and blowing the American flags adorning the Veterans' gravestones to attention. It is sad and beautiful at the same time.

Unsettled is how I feel.  Not sad, not happy, not apathetic, just unsettled. On the surface, things are starting to feel the same but they really are not the same, nothing at all. I feel helpless - that's what I feel.  It is hard to talk to someone who refuses to listen or listens from only their perspective.  I certainly don't know how it feels to be automatically assumed guilty or dangerous or deceptive simply because of my color.  I know how it feels to be assumed to be stupid and irrelevant because of my gender and my age but I don't think that compares.  Why protest? Protest, not riot.  Because if we don't, it is assumed that we are all ok with discrimination and racism.  And we are not ok with it, we are not ok at all. 

My gosh. All I want is for us all to quit killing each and hating each other.  That, and I want my cat to come home.