tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40415015938108110032024-03-14T01:52:25.866-07:00Brain CheeseGinnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14287402498994673396noreply@blogger.comBlogger46125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4041501593810811003.post-37718001634699766882013-01-28T21:30:00.001-08:002013-01-29T06:44:17.064-08:00WHOA! They went all out!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I knew I left a lasting impression on Omaha!!! This is how they celebrate my birthday!!!</td></tr>
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Ginnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14287402498994673396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4041501593810811003.post-49284761099510062652013-01-27T20:11:00.000-08:002013-01-27T20:11:20.482-08:00After Christmas Wrap Up, January is Here.......<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Okay, it's been a while (like when isn't it? Seriously). It was Thanksgiving when last I sat down and blogged my heart out, and while I have 'meant' to....it's sorta like the Road to Hell...it's paved with good intentions that never go anywhere. </div>
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Christmas came and went here. With the little trolls all going to different grandparents and relatives' houses on Christmas day, it was decided that we would 'put it off'. In years past, I have always done the big Polish do on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day itself was always low key. Jamie was in another state, unable to make it home, and the grands had other commitments, so it was just the four of us. Unfortunately, it ends up being too far to travel for some, other plans for others (a divorce in the family makes 'sharing' holidays real fun for those of us not directly involved) and others won't give you a straight up answer 'yes or no'. I have said in the past, I know I will say so again, if you don't want to come, SAY SO. I would rather you risk you thinking you hurt my feelings to have an adequate head count for dinner.....with the price of food, I don't want to plan to feed four extra people and not have anyone show up. This year, we did 'Little Christmas with Lucas and Brennan, and believe me, it was a lot less stressful for me (not for them, but that's another story). </div>
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Part of the reason I wanted to 'do' Little Christmas, or the Feast of the Epiphany, is that Christmas is soooo commercialized and trees and decorations are in the stores on Labor Day, and by the 25th you are so sick of hearing 'if you REALLY loved someone, you would go into hock for a car, a house, a ring that could knock out Mike Tyson, etc.' and sad to say it, you are GLAD that Christmas is over. Whatever happened to Advent? Christmas Eve? Christmas being a HOLY day not a day to grab and plunder and complain you 'didn't get what you really wanted, wah, wah, wah'.....besides, not to sound commercial on you, but buying AFTER Christmas is the best way NOT to break the budget. The big plus.....I got to tell the little trolls that we would be celebrating Jesus' birthday on the day HE got presents. I collect nativities, so I was able to show them Gaspar, Balthazar and Melchior and explain that the Feast of the Epiphany is when they gave Jesus HIS presents. I had a tree, with their presents under it, and I would hear, 'Gramma, we get to open ours when Jesus opened his, right?' See......I did teach them something. I was especially proud of the two of mine left at home.....they opted, even tho I did have presents for them....to wait as well until Little Christmas. Also, by waiting, not only did I not duplicate things others bought the little ones, but if you go from place to place to place on Christmas, who can remember who bought who what and they get so tired of wanting to just play with everything, they get on a sensory overload and miss out on the whole reason for doing what we do. </div>
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We did this whole magilla on January 5th, so I could 'have' my present on January 6th. I am on a big 'experience' kick lately. If I need anything, I will buy it myself, and I am trying to 'give' memories to the kids as well. I asked of Joe, and he agreed, that I wanted to go to the Farm Show in Harrisburg for my Christmas Present. So, off we went on Sunday morning, bright and early to a place I have been begging to go to for years......(other things always came up). I was a wonderful experience, but one, if we had to do all over again, would do on a weekday, not a weekend. The show opened at 9:00 a.m., at 9:15 a.m. the parking lot, the whole 28 acres of it, was full and overflow was being directed to other areas in Harrisburg and the patrons were shuttle bused in. But we had a blast. </div>
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About this blast. You may wonder why I posted the picture on the top of this. Well, just Joe and I went....the kids wanted to but my Knight in Shining Armor told me 'it's just you and me, it's your present, not theirs' and we got into all sorts of mischief. We were two 50+ year old fruit loops on a day pass. Those who know us, me particular, know that I have a 'wee bit of a digestive issue' that makes knowing where the bathroom is at all times a REALLY good thing. Well, of course, since we stopped for breakfast before we left, I HAD to stop on the way......Realize, also, that we pass the exit for Hershey, PA on the way out to Harrisburg from where we live.....do you see where we are going here? On a dare, of course, I go into the quikee mart and say 'is this Hershey?' to which I get and befuzzled clerk saying 'yup' (now realize, I have a grown man giggling like a little girl behind me). I then say 'where's the can, cause I gots the squirts'.....he bugs his eyes out, his mouth drops and he points to the generic door with the man and woman on the sign and off I go.......can this day get any better. Oh, yeah. </div>
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Sir Knight, when we get there, is as bug eyed as a little kid at the tractors and outdoor furnaces and all the freebies and nibbles and samples and things to touch and play with and well.........then we get to the animals. To those of you who have been to a fair, you know that the barnyard animals are usually facing towards you. Nuh-uh, not here. The aisles you traipsed down went between the north ends of most of the south bound animals on display. It was all inside (this is January, you realize) and it is ripe......as there are big blowers pumping heat in the buildings to keep the patrons warm.......nothing like the smell of ripe poo on a heater to make you say 'yee haw, this if farm country!'......we look at each other, look at Ol' Bossy's butt, and I say to him....'I did not ride 1 1/2 hours to have a cow poop on me and walk around the rest of the day smelling like a cow pie!' 'Cause Lord knows, when one of those bovines cut loose, it's all over but getting hosed down......they have the aim AND the distance down pat. So we go into the NEXT building! Realize, there are more and more and more people and we have to go up a disabled escalator....shoulder to shoulder with about half a million other people (yep, they DID do those numbers on the weekend days)...so guess what Sir Knight does next. That's right, peeps, he starts mooing, as we were like cattle going into a pen......he moos, and moos, and moos....then, across the room, another moo answers, then from somewhere in the middle, another moo sounds out.....I could have picked up my feet and been swept along by a bunch of grown men mooing like cattle. A woman next to us, all dyed hair and balloon hat, says to me...'watch this' and starts bleating like a goat. Then another bleat.....so the whole freaking convention hall with rodeo rings on one side and animal cages on the other is filled with men mooing and women bleating.......shoulder to shoulder....and the animals in the pens looking at each other and thanking their makers they are in cages and not in the midst of all these crazy people.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">this is the shrine to Paula Deen 1000 lbs of butter</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Joe's new friend, the Nittany Lion (bite it, Richie!)</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">he really really really wanted this to drive to work!</span><br /></td></tr>
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We do as much as we can physically do, and by 3:30 we are all in. We made three trips back to the car to dump off all the handouts, gimmes and whatnot that we picked up along the way and our final trek had us looking like a couple of ancients trying to climb the Himalayas....I was a cold day, but we were hot, tired and hungry. Heading back home, we stopped at Cracker Barrel. Now Cracker Barrel is as fake Southern as you can get, but we needed food and somehow, that chicken fried steak with milk gravy, mashed potatoes and collard greens chased by a Mason jar of iced tea hit the spot. We were home, dead tired by 6:30 p.m. and happy as a couple of clams. This was one Christmas present that I am GLAD I asked for. </div>
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Now, into the new year, I am approached by someone I used to work for when I worked for First Student asking 'why' I didn't come back to driving school bus. To tell you the truth, I thought I had been black balled by the company when they handed over the reins to the new company. For those who know about my history with FS, I was let go and denied my unemployement compensation. The union said fight, and you know me.....if I can I will fight for what is right, so off I go. I fought them, over and over and over before I finally got a ruling in my favor.....I explained this to the new people and they said 'come on over'....so, the middle of January found me back in driver's training classes learning all over again, how to drive a school bus. Now don't get me wrong, I am not saying I didn't need this class as I found out some of the issues I faced working for the first company would never happen with the new one.....that and I learned new techniques for old situations and found it a whole different dynamic.</div>
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Now I sit and wait, as they wait for my clearances to come back from the state and the feds saying I'm not a danger to myself or anyone else. Once that is done, we will see what the next step is. Hopefully, that will be my birthday present......if all the clearances are in by Tuesday, I'm golden. THEN I go take the test to get my permit to drive one of those behemoths again. Wouldn't that be a hoot, taking the test on my birthday! I can break out all my holiday tshirts and weird headbands and have the kids going 'what in the world is that woman wearing today!'</div>
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Hopefully, it won't take me nearly two months to get back and update this blog, but if it does, please know that I am at least 'thinking' about doing it!!!!</div>
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Til Niagra Falls,</div>
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Ginny</div>
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Ginnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14287402498994673396noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4041501593810811003.post-37960008278170668612012-11-23T10:03:00.000-08:002012-11-23T10:03:58.028-08:00I've HAD allz I can standz and I CAN'T stand no mo' - from "Popeye's Famous Quotes"***************WARNING: Terms and words maybe quoted that you may find offensive. **********<br />
*************These were quotes taken from actual conversations and necessary to content.**********<br />
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I posted on Facebook a while back that I had 'HAD IT' and that I would blog about it later. Much later now, I have had a chance to cool down and think thru what I wanted to write and how to put it down without sounding as hateful and ignorant as those who pushed the final button that sent me 'round the bend. And believe me, there have been A LOT of button pushing around here lately.<br />
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From my earlier post, you can see that I have done a lot of soul-searching lately and decided that instead of just marking time on planet earth, that I should go out and make a difference. I made some calls and, to tell you the truth, am a bit frustrated, as I want to finish school, but when I called my alma mater to get info on finishing they said 'we'll have to check or archives to get your records and get back to you'....Now look, I know to some of you 1983 WAS an entire lifetime ago, but really? You can't find my records, or if you can't, why can't you just call and say so! I mean, really! Did you lose them in catastrophic fire of 'aught three' that never happened? <br />
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Then there was the lead up to the election. Now I have never shied away from the fact that I am a Democrat and I am proud of that fact. I campaigned for my candidates, put out signs, bumper stickers, etc. But this year, it got UGGG-LEEEEEEE around here. The saddest part about the whole thing...is what my 'christian' friends and family said and did. I did not capitalize the word 'christian' here, as I don't think a damn thing that passed from these people could even vaguely resemble anything that Christ advocated. I have dropped people not only from my 'friends' list on Facebook, but actually out of my life entirely, as that type of ugly has no room in my life. The whole disheartening thing, a number of these people have 'prominent' positions in their local churches, from pastor, to deacon, to elder, to deaconess. A good thing came out of it, as well, in that I have had some SERIOUS differences of opinion with a number of people, but they acknowledged that politics were only a segment of our friendship and we could agree to disagree.......unfortunately, these people were in the minority. To them, I would like to say thank you....they are what friends are supposed to be. <br />
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I have intentionally dropped a few relatives and intend to keep them out of my life as there was too much polluting going on. There was one relative who stated they were a founding member of their state's Tea Party and would send me soliticitations to fundraisers to 'put the Obama's back in the fields where 'there type' belonged' or 'to tell James Dobson we support the death penalty for homosexuality' and a few links to people who advocated assassinating the president, bragged on the fact that they had two black cats named N*gger and J*gaboo, but it "wasn't about race". Yup, this one is on the church board. Another, went on and on about the president 'spending their money' on 'welfare n*ggers' the whole time bemoaning the fact that Hurricane Sandy didn't do enough damage in their area of central Pennsylvania to qualify them for them for a FEMA handout. You have to admit, people who you have grown up with, who have ALWAYS been in your life in some form or another, when they let it all hang out, it can be a shocker. I know, looking back, that there were always 'little signs' that they were like this, but for some reason, after this election campaign, they have decided to get their Confederate flags out of the attic, grab their 'squirrel huntin' guns and hole up saying 'we is gonna secede and I need to find me a n*gger to lynch.' People we ALL (the relatives and I) all grew up in the South of the '60's......I like to think I grew up to see that 'the good ol' days' weren't all that good and I don't want to revisit them EVER again. I remember Jim Crow laws that mandated a feeble black man having to step in the street, if not cross it entirely, to allow a white woman to pass, when in reality we should be approaching him and asking 'Uncle, can I help YOU get where you are going'. I actually had to stop watching 'To Kill a Mockingbird' because all I could picture was my memories of 'being' Scout. I have learned a lesson from a good friend from college, who is now living an openly gay lifestyle......'you can have 'family' without having a blood relationship' with them, as sometimes your family is....well.......let's just say we're better off without some of them. <br />
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Drop into the middle of this, Hurricane Sandy. Now, to quote the evangelist of the 60's, Katherine Kuhlman, who used to say 'I BEEEEE-leive in miracles'. We didn't lose much in the way of storm damage in the aftermath of Sandy, but we did lose the 30 foot fir outside our bedroom window. The tree, if it fell forward, it would have ripped the electric wires out of the house, if it fell to the left, it would have destroyed our shed with all our outdoor equipment, storage, and taken down the electric wires to the neighbor's house. If it fell back, it would have landed on a hill and rolled into the sheds and they would have been no more. Instead, it fell at a 45% angle to the house, missing it by, and hubster went out and measured, 2 FEET! If it had fallen to the right, it would have gone straight thru the bedroom window, under which both Joe and I sleep, it deviated just enough to avoid the house and our window. Do I believe in miracles, yes, yes I do. Sandy left us 'powerless' for 95-6 hours straight. We were lucky, the large chest freezer held, by not opening it, we had no loss of food stuffs....we lost some incidentals in the fridge but that was it......We had all been involved in scouting at some form or another, so being 'schtinky' in large groups and being able to use all our lanterns and camping gear got us thru it. <br />
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Now, cut back to the time frame. We have power back. Instead of enjoying a hot shower and refrigeration I get thrust back into the boiling pot of politics. I have a 'pastor' tell me that he will pray for me in that 'I am going to hell, due to my political affiliation' (geez, nice to know God took the day off and left him in charge) and 'hoped that I wouldn't set foot back in *their* church as I was a polluting element'. My youngest daughter is involved in a program at the local high school and interacts with other youth from this church, comments have been made by one young man, derogatory in nature and he had started referring to her as 'lesbian whore'. She, being my child, did not shy away from this person, but called him on it. His response was 'well, we discussed your family at my house and this is what my mom said you are'. After offering to make this young man a gelding, she let me know this....realize, 'mom' is the wife of a deacon in this church I was 'asked' not to pollute. Now a little back story here, the church in question was 'sponsoring' a specific candidate, touting him as God's choice, etc. and I had a real problem with that, said 'pastor' said it was because I was part of the 'wrong' party, but it goes farther than that, I don't believe a church should have a horse it that race...period. Regardless of political affliliation, NO candidate should say 'I AM God's choice', and the money that goes into the plate should not be diverted to political campaign coffers...whether s/he be a white conservative or a black pentecostal'...it ain't right.<br />
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While this is going on, I get contacted by a 'cousin' who is a 'deacon' in his church, and apparently from other sources, has some major sway on what happens there.....seems he feels that I have stepped outside the will of God, and that 'God has instructed me to tell you he hopes that my daughters are murdered by their (inset racial epithet here) boy friends over the use of their Obamaphones while trying to contact their rape baby-daddies' and that 'a good man needs to beat me til I repent'.....This was the straw that broke the camel's back.....E-freakin' Nuff. All because I was registered as a Democrat? At this point, I start getting emails from this 'deacon' calling me a 'f*cking cunt' 'a whoring lesbian' (apparently this is the term to use to any woman who doesn't fall in line with their ideal of fundamentalist christianity- see the above commentary) and calling my daughters 'whoring lesbians' (my only solice is this wing nut doesn't know my daughters - or how many I have or where they are at) and these show up daily in my inbox and Facebook feed. I had him blocked and reported him to Facebook - last email was 'I had BETTER not report him to ANYONE'....ooooh, Imma skeert. Some of my southern based friends tell me this person was contacting them telling them what I needed to have happen to me after I blocked him. Then another cousin contacts me to give me the current 411 on this clown. He was always a bully in school and liked to kick the crutch out from under the crippled kid, seems now he has 'taken in a man recently 'paroled' for killing two women 'because they deserved it' and is trying to get his case re-evaluated as there are women who 'deserve killin'....and this same person has been arrested for 'inflicting his opinion' on women in the past so for me to 'be careful' where he is concerned'. Okay, this election just got personal. Threaten me, whatever. Threaten the lives of my daughters? Yo, Larry...I grew up in the same podunk you did...where shooting rats at the dump was a hot date. I may be a bleeding heart, liberal democrat, but I DO know how to lock and load.....and a moving target only makes it 'interesting'....I think he is probably all bluff and bluster, that and being five states away, but what just happened here? Is this the wild, wild west?<br />
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Okay. Understand what is going on around here now? My head and heart are swirling with all of this......the 'church' refusing me (I know there are other churches, and thanks to those friends I mentioned earlier, I know that), relatives being flaming bigots, threats to my children.......I say 'Thank you, Jesus, I'm in Pennsyltucky and most of those are down South'.....then the other shoe drops.<br />
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My husband has a relative, who, if 'forced' to give a compliment, will ALWAYS make it about them. Joe was 'being' congratulated on his award. But to tell you the truth, he NEVER would have won it without the influence and guidance offered by this relative (now, the blood, which was after the other BS going on is at a low simmer, is slowing starting to reach boiling point). Now, hubby is no dummy. When it comes to this relative, he lets 'me' talk to them, so he won't lose his cool and cause a rift between the family which this relative would try to divide into 'sides'....so I get stuck talking with 'Wonder Relative'. Now realize, the world has crapped on this person....said person has discovered a 'cure for cancer', has the business accumen of Donald Trump, and is a gourmet chef but 'NO ONE recognizes their importance to society'. (and if you believe any of this, I got a bridge outside of Brooklyn I can get you a good price on). Now, for almost an hour I get to hear how the 'profession' my husband has chosen is 'absolutely useless' unlike the one in which this person chose, but then lost the licence to. How said person was involved in another 'business venture' and needed capital, blah, blah, blah......Now, about this time I am on auto pilot as I am used to this 'me, me, me, wonderful me, me, me, and don't you wish you were me, me, me' when it really turns ugly. Realize I am mad that said person wants me to go 'yup, you are so right, my husband is a total waste of space not worthy of a paycheck' when the derision is redirected. Now there are two other family members, both female, under 20. One is getting married. Rather than being happy for said person, all I hear is how this person is psychotic and has extensive psychiatric problems and shouldn't be allowed to marry, and that all the other relatives are begging this one to intercede and stop the wedding (like this is EVEN happening), oh and I'm not bothering going, but if you 'want' I can take your gift ($$$) and see that they get it (this person has been guilty of diverting funds towards their own endeavors in the past). Oh, and instead of wishing the young couple well, is raining down curses on their union saying that 'it won't last, and they can't come running to me, as I told them so'.....then on to the next, another young girl who wants to get into art school, I hear," oh, how talented she is, but let's face it, she's not gonna go anywhere 'being as fat and ugly as she is'.....you, know, I KNOW people in business and they would never go for that...who cares how much talent she has".....I HAD to get out of this conversation.....as it devolved into 'you, know, both of these girls are going to be nothing more than hot pants hookers unless I have some input'....ARRRRGGGHHHHH!!! I had to wash my ears after this. Then later, I hear from another relative who tells me this person said the only reason the one was marrying was she was a 'hot pants hooker' (that seems to be the descriptive term of choice) and HAD to get married. I assured the person that the wedding being moved up had NOTHING to do with this, but with military service.....then I stopped, stepped back and wondered what this person was saying about 'my' daughters, 'my' nieces, 'my' sons, etc. This is when I realized, this person, here in Pennsyltucky, also needs to hear the 'plonk' of deletion from my life. Whatever happened to 'if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all.......' esp. if the person is getting married, starting a new college endeavor, etc. It's like the fat bride busting out of the dress.....'you know, she does have a lovely face, and isn't that veil impressive'....sometimes it's important just to be nice. You can have your opinion, but when offering it will only cause harm, why offer it unless solicited.<br />
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So, there you have it. I have toned down what I REALLY wanted to say when all this went down. I have had all I can stand with a number of these people and I refuse to stand anymore. To those who I have disowned in my mind, well, they probably won't read this anyway....to those who will read this and 'think' I'm talking about them, well, don't flatter yourselves, as it probably ISN'T you, but if it makes you think, so be it. I want to thank those of you who have believed me, backed me, and loved me....even if you don't always agree with me. I would ask of you to have patience, I am still a work in progress. <br />
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Now this the day after Thanksgiving 2012. I would like to say 'thank you' to my readers. Thankful for my kids here and not, my friends, here and not, family here and not, and the opportunity to share dinner with my FIL and BIL yesterday.......God is good all the time, all the time, God is good. <br />
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Til next time. Or should I say, next vent.<br />
-g<br />
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<br />Ginnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14287402498994673396noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4041501593810811003.post-8544013620896895462012-10-16T09:19:00.001-07:002012-10-16T09:20:10.000-07:00The Trip, The Aftermath, The Fallout(Not the usual humor, this is serious, be prepared!)<br />
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It has taken me a while to come up with just how I want to put my thoughts down about what has happened in the last month. Since the 15th of September, I have accompanied my spouse to an award ceremony, come home to a shit storm, done a lot of soul searching and fallen into and pulled myself out of (hopefully) a blue funk, deep depression, the umps, whatever you want to call it. I have felt like I have been on the mountain top and the deepest valley and all points in between.......let me take you thru a tour of my fevered mind (buckle up, it's not a pretty sight, my head looks like my house, in need of a good clean out).<br />
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I started out with a certain unease about going to Omaha with Joe. I was afraid that I would embarrass him, that I wouldn't look good enough, might talk to much, say something not acceptable....things I have been accused of doing most of my life, so why should I think this adventure would be any different. Let me start with our trip to Omaha:<br />
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First of all, I have always been paranoid about how I look. My mother, God rest her soul, (when I look back I think she thought she might be sparing me but little did she realize how much damage she did) always told me that I had better learn to cook or do something spectacular because I would never get anywhere on my looks. This has always sat in the back of my mind, and I always dress down (tshirt, sweats, sneakers, no make up) as I never wanted to bring attention to my looks or lack there of. Here I had to dress up for this dinner, and to tell the truth, I was horrified that I would pop out in all the wrong places, paint my face like a clown and generally be a laughing stock and bring shame to my husband on a day when he should be the star. I had this so bad the night of the banquet that I sent Joe down to the lobby to wait 'while I put on my makeup' and had a complete bawl, beating the bed, crying jag before washing my face and putting on the make up, the facade, the smile, and heading downstairs. <br />
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Secondly, I talk, and talk, and talk. When I get nervous, or feel insignificant, or think someone is looking at me critically (see #1) I usually talk faster, louder, and sometimes say things that shouldn't be said. When we were first picked up, we went by the main headquarters of Joe's company to meet all the people he works for/with. We go into a large office where the work stations are divided into cubicles....and I have a flash back to the mid-80's when I worked at Prudential doing medicare and medicare supplemental insurance.....I was good at it. I had an office, a briefcase, a name plate....I was someone who made a difference.....in Omaha, here I was looking in from the outside to people who were the same age as I was when I did that, and I realized that I could be doing something like that, I should be doing something like that.....and I felt like I had been left in the dust, an afterthought. In the years since, when I have attempted to get back into the workforce doing something similar, I don't get a nibble......while all this is going on in the back of my head, we are talking, talking, talking and I pray my prattling doesn't adversely impact their view of him, or in lieu of that, that they don't take pity on him for the ball and chain he has with him. <br />
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Thirdly, my husband decides to play with my head. Let me go back to the very beginning with Joe. I love my husband, I love him with all the breath I have in my body and I would do anything for him. With that said, I have always been paranoid (again with that word) that it has always been a dream, a figment of my imagination that he loves me in return. I have actually said to him, 'you could have done better' or'why are you still here with me'....and he brushes it off. Now, I am going to say something that may be a surprise to some, a confirmation to others, and a 'I knew it all along so why are you bringing it up now' to a few more. I dropped out of college with 12 credits short of a bachelors of social work to marry Joe. I was pregnant at the time. Although he said he never felt trapped, I always have had it in the back of my head that I trapped him into marrying me as he is an honorable man and did what was expected of him. It has been almost 30 years since then, but still that thought lingers. If any of you who read this have found yourself in the same situation, particularly if you are male, please PLEASE reinforce to the other party that you married them for love and not out of 'obligation'. I wish he had reassured me more, but that is water under the bridge. 30 years and three additional children later he decides that on the night of the banquet he will dedicate his award to ME, he tells me that he loves me. I wanted to fall apart. I didn't know what to think, as in the back of my mind (those voices again) I was hearing 'now that he sees how much he is appreciated, and how valued he is he may realize what a drain you are on him'. So yet again, I put on the false front and made like I was mad at him for trying to make me cry and ruin the makeup it took so long for me to put on. <br />
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Finally, on this trip, I had to face my shortcomings as a mother. We were escorted around by Joe's contract manager (see the earlier posts), a young man who is, literally, the same age as my oldest son. We joked with him that he is my 'fifth child' or that I was going to trade my eldest for him, but inside it wasn't a joke.....it killed me to see him with his children and wife being a responsible young man and me having the thoughts that I would kill to have a child like that, then I felt overwhelming guilt for not having that type of relationship with my own son and for gauging one against the other.<br />
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We get home and I find that the dishes I left on Tuesday to be done were still in the sink on Saturday morning, the two kids still at home are at each other's throats (20 and 17, think they could co-exist, right?). I get home and find a message that my grandbabies' mom and her fiance have a bad virus and they want to know if I want the two boys overnight Saturday into Sunday. The little one wets my bed, the bigger on is whiney and clingy. I go to bed for three days afterwards........<br />
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I can't process everything. I write my blog giving a blow by blow description, using the humor that has gotten me thru most all things in life. To those in the know, we have had a rocky relationship with Joey since he got out of the Navy. He gets wild, settles down for a while and appears to have his head on, starts raising a family, after a divorce, with a fiance and has two little boys, then 'needs to find himself' and does a runner. His father and I do not condone his new chosen lifestyle, and he blames us for all his 'issues' and told me 'he will call the shots and will bring whatever girl he happens to be with into my home whenever' I told him no, my house my rules, and I haven't spoken with him since. This has been two years at least (except for one time he stopped by, but I refused to do what he asked and he blew out again). Please know that I love my son, I will always love my son. I cannot and will not condone his behaviors tho. After the guiltstorm I felt after our trip, I go to the place my son 'supposedly' works. I ask after him, and I get the message that 'his current girlfriend has said he is to have no contact with me and I am to 'go to hell'. Again, I go to bed. I am not doing housework, I am not cooking, I shower if I remember, I just can't think straight......<br />
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So you do not think I am wallowing in the Slough of Despondency (hey literati, read the Pilgrim's Progress) I did this for almost a week straight. Then I said to myself "Self, get your ass out of bed and get a life". I have friends online who are dealing with a lot more than I am, I have two friends from high school, one who is fighting cancer herself after losing her nephew/surrogate child to a brain tumor this summer and one who is dealing with the sudden death of her husband and having widowhood thrust upon her in her early 50's. That they get up each day and go on is an inspiration to me. I sit and think, and think and think.....I call my oldest and dearest friend from college and pour out my despair on her. As someone who faced down death herself from breast cancer and came out on the other side, she said things to me that needed to be said. Right now, I am a drain on Joe because I 'think I am a drain'. I hate that I am not a contributing member of this family, and I am feeling unfulfilled as a human being as I am not 'making the difference' that I know I can. So, I went and got my nails done again! Why? It made me feel better, human, pretty even. Then I screwed up enough courage to talk about this with Joe. On Sunday mornings we have 'our' time together. We usually go to the local diner for breakfast, just us, no kids, no grandkids, just us. I told him I want to be a contributor and not a taker anymore (he disagreed that I was a 'taker' stating I ran the house, etc., but I proceeded). I stated that I had not completed my college degree and even tho it was only 12 credits short, I could not in all honesty state I was a college graduate and therefore ineligible for a job that I could do, but demanded proof of a college degree. I wanted to go back to school. Our eldest is 'out there', the oldest daughter is teaching in Arizona, the younger son is in college and the youngest girl is a junior in high school and looking at college....I want us to be able to afford to live the way we wanted to all along, I want to contribute not only to our income, but to society as a whole. My background is in medicine/insurance so I will be looking at some form of medical administrative courses.....<br />
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I am going to quote the consummate Southern woman again, Scarlett O'Hara, when, after Rhett Butler left her and slammed the door in her face....she sat on the step, had a good cry, then picked herself up and said 'Tomorrow is another day'....so for me, tomorrow IS another day. I will NOT feel guilty for loving on another young family as I still love my child and my door is always open to him, just that I refuse to be his, or anyone else's, doormat. I will tell my daughters that they are smart, beautiful and the most wonderful human beings in the world, correcting what my mother started with them before she passed. I will tell ALL of my children, real and 'adopted' that they can be and do anything their hearts desire if they put forth the effort and have the will to do it......I will be the best Gramma I can be. I 'have' accomplished much in my first 50 years on this earth (there's a lot there when I look back) and there is so much more to do in the next 50. I am lucky that I found my ideal spouse, not necessarily 'ideal' overall, but ideal for me. He loves me, I love him more and more each day, he has my back, like I have his. I have some wonderful people in my life. I may not have any 'close' friends who are in close proximity, but the friends I have who are spread around the country (hey, I forgot Diane, she's in Russia and Sharon is in Ecuador, so around the world) more than make up for it.......Is my family messed up? Parts of it. But who doesn't have the drama associated with having people in your life. It's time for me to pick myself up by my bootstraps, brastraps, underwear elastic, what have you and get on with life. Now I gotta call the local college and see what they can offer an 'older' student and if anything from the Class of '83 will transfer. <br />
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<br />Ginnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14287402498994673396noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4041501593810811003.post-70369824125990710112012-10-05T08:56:00.000-07:002012-10-05T08:56:24.699-07:00Addendum to the THE TripAlthough I will be posting a wrap-up (too many thoughts still swirling in my head), I did want to give you the links to everything. After all the backslapping and glad-handing done last Thursday (9/27), they did a nice write up in their newsletter. Here it is:<br />
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<a href="http://www.aureusmedical.com/advisor/rehab12/vol19/index.html">http://www.aureusmedical.com/advisor/rehab12/vol19/index.html</a><br />
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Also, I missed linking some of the places we visited/services we used, so here there are:<br />
<a href="http://www.omahazoo.com/">http://www.omahazoo.com/</a> The Henry Doorly Zoo and Aquarium<br />
<a href="http://www.durhammuseum.org/">http://www.durhammuseum.org/</a> The Durham Western Heritage Museum<br />
<a href="http://www.flyoma.com/">http://www.flyoma.com/</a> Epply Airfield<br />
<a href="http://www.ohare.com/About/Midway/Default.aspx">http://www.ohare.com/About/Midway/Default.aspx</a> Chicago Midway Airport<br />
<a href="http://www.phl.org/Pages/HomePage.aspx">http://www.phl.org/Pages/HomePage.aspx</a> Philadelphia International Airport<br />
<a href="http://www.septa.org/schedules/rail/index.html">http://www.septa.org/schedules/rail/index.html</a> Southeastern Pennsylvania Transit Authority (septa), we used the Airport Line and the Trenton Line (Cornwell's Heights station)<br />
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If you happen to get out that way, stop by these places. Tell them Ginny sent you. If they say 'huh'? Tell them the woman who blew into their city, wanted to know where the closest ladies room was, and blew back out and they'll say 'oh, her. Tell her 'HI'...." !!!!!!!!<br />
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Also, any of your Aureus people reading this. please feel free to comment and plug yourself where you need a plug (like the pictures on facebook......just 'friend' me and you can see all the pictures you might not want to see), also, if you see any mistakes or missed any links, let me know. I'm only human, ya know.........Ginnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14287402498994673396noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4041501593810811003.post-21090718489441237862012-10-03T21:06:00.002-07:002012-10-03T21:06:35.598-07:00The Trip - Day 3 The Final Day (sob)Again we wake up on Pennsylvania time in Omaha, but this time not as early, I guess we're slowly starting to acclimate since it is time we return to Coopersburg and life as we knew it before this whirlwind of an adventure overtook us. Joe goes to the coffee maker and finds out that when the little coffee pods were replaced, they gave us packets for a full-sized coffee pot. He had to wait until the breakfast buffet opened downstairs to get his coffee. As can be seen by the pictures, he was up, dressed and waiting at 5:30 by the elevators for them to turn on the lights....yes, people, he NEEDS his coffee THAT BAD. He was starting to twitch when they let us in. Blessed relief....he got his mega cup of coffee....he was slowly becoming human again. <br />
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While we were eating our breakfast, the other Employee of the Year, Amy, and her family came down for breakfast. As we were eating, we discussed all sorts of things as Amy's mom worked as a med-tech at Hackettstown Hospital (in NJ) the same time I did the same at St. Luke's in Bethlehem, we discussed unruly patients and Amy and Joe compared war stories as well. Their 'handler/chauffeur' Justin came in and joined in the conversation. Hopefully no one else around us was listening in, as when medical professionals/staffers get together you can be sure the topic falls to blood, guts and gore. Justin and I even got to compare our artificial parts stories (his leg, my arm). In this conversation, I think Justin jinxed us, but more on that later. We, again, remarked on how weird it was that we meet in Omaha, when we both are from eastern Pennsylvania, I asked Amy's boyfriend, John, where in Allentown he was from, and he said, 'oh, I just say Allentown, as people know where that is, I am really from Emmaus'. Well, with that, the mouth drops open on this face, as anyone who knows where we live, I often joke that our address is schizophrenic....the mailman says Coopersburg, the tax man says Upper Saucon Township and the phone company...well, Verizon says we live in (tada) Emmaus. The man asks if we've heard of it.....well, duh. After having a good joke on this, we say good bye as they headed out to catch their planes, Amy and John back to Maui and her parents back to Pennsylvania via La Guardia in New York. We end it by saying maybe we'll see each other Christmas shopping at the Crossings in Tannersville, PA an outlet center midway between both our backyards.<br />
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Breakfast over, we go back upstairs to finish packing and hump all our bags and souvenirs down to the lobby to check out. Phew! Thanks to 'behaving' and not drinking the $3 waters in the fridge or getting kinky with the 'in room movies' - we entertained ourselves, thank you - (I just put this in to see if my kids are reading this.....if I hear 'ewwww, grosss, yuck' from the other room I know they read the blog) we escaped without any extra costs involved. Joe thought I was being weird (when doesn't he) but I took a few more pictures of the hotel before we left. This is something I want to remember....the experience, the place, and the feeling. We may never pass this way again, and it is something I want to be able to recall in my dotage.<br />
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Jonathan was supposed to pick us up at 8:30, as we were to be going to the Henry Doorly Zoo and Aquarium that opens at 9:00 before we ended our time in Omaha. At exactly 8:30 we see him zip up in his SUV and out he hops saying 'I have the "little man" with me'. Getting in, we see, strapped into his carseat, one of the cutest little boys I've seen. (Now I KNOW cute little boys, all you have to do is look at Lucas and Brennan.....) Mr. Gavin falls right into the Lucas and Brennan category, big expressive eyes and a shock of blonde hair and a smile that lights up the room. Now, the Gramma in me kicks into overdrive. I reach into my pocketbook and pull out the bag I have been carrying around for the three days we've been in town....a bag filled with hot wheels. Two eyes widen, and I offer a car to Gavin....I think I have made a friend for life. Jonathan explains that he and Gavin will be escorting us to the zoo and his wife, Valerie and the Princess will meet us there after the little one is done dining at Cafe Mom. <br />
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As you can see by our pictures, it is an experience to visit a zoo with a small child. It is one I would highly recommend to anyone.....you see so much and can appreciate it so much more when you see it thru the eyes of a small child. Did you know that penguins are Gavin's favorite at the zoo? Maybe you did, but did you know why? When penguins stand up, they are the same size as him. Now, would you have known that? What would you think of the the snakes when you walked up to the glass you were eye to eye with them? What would you think of a salamander that when you looked at it, you realized it could swallow you whole? As a 'big person' those things don't pass thru your mind while you are at the zoo.<br /><br />When we come out of the Desert Dome, we find that Valerie and Princess Deklynn have arrived and we arranged to meet up with them. Now, let me digress here, when Jonathan first told me that he and Valerie were going to have a little girl, I played twenty questions with him on their color scheme and how they were decorating for her....in my devious mind, I knew I had to surreptitiously get this info so I could make at least a baby blanket for the little one. So when I first got to Omaha, I packaged up the goodies I had made and gave them to Jonathan to take home and open at their leisure. When we met up with the 'girls', Deklynn was wearing the little hat I had made and was covered with the blanket. My heart melted. I was so worried that my meager offering would be met with a simple 'oh thanks' and would be put aside and not used only to end up in a white elephant somewhere. I did so want to do something for this little treasure who had such a struggle to get here, and her mommy made me feel like I did. Then my goal of coming on this trip was met.....not only did I get to see this little miracle, but I got to hold her close and snuggle her tight. <br />
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I must tell you, people, I was mightily impressed when I met Valerie. (You my kind readers, if you follow me on Facebook, know that I had asked for prayer for her during her pregnancy and delivery) After hearing of all she went thru while she was pregnant and how she was bouncing back, I expected to meet an Amazon-like being who kept Jonathan on the straight and narrow. The person I met was a tiny little china doll who had the same smile I saw earlier on Gavin. I couldn't imagine being so delicate and going thru all the machinations that she did and coming out the other side unscathed. I'm not sure I could have done it......being pregnant and knowing that just being pregnant may kill me and continue on with the pregnancy (I'm not turning this into a debate on abortion, just stating a fact). She did this to bring this little dumpling into the world. I have had the good fortune to know only one other person who did this, and unfortunately, she did not win that battle.....she gave birth to a healthy baby, but lost her fight in doing so. Valerie asked me if she could hug me for the present....honey, you can hug me, and if I hugged you back a little tight, that's because I was hugging you and Doreen at the same time. Jonathan, you got a keeper on your hands in this one. <br />
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Okay, enough with the serious (sniff, sniff)....back to the journey. <br />
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After we finished viewing the monkeys at the zoo, Gavin was so tired he was really starting to drag. It was decided that Gavin would go home with Mommy and Deklynn and have lunch and a nap (not before Gramma Ginny slipped the remaining hot wheels in Deklynn's stroller for later...do I know how to 'rotten up' a kid or what?) and Daddy would take us to lunch and then to the airport. Hugs were shared with Valerie and Deklynn and I got to get in an extra squeeze on Gavin as he tried to escape over the backseat into the trunk of the SUV (who does this sound like, Alyssa?)...after a good couple of squeezes and a kiss or two stolen from the squiggling mass of boy child, he was buckled in the seat and bets were made whether or not he would even make it out of the parking lot never the less home before he was asleep. <br />
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Jonathan ended up taking us to the Upstream Brewery for lunch (<a href="http://www.upstreambrewing.com/">http://www.upstreambrewing.com</a>) where we were able to sit and unwind a bit after our zoo experience and before we had to amp up to get on the plane. We talked about all sorts of things, family and life, and odds and ends in general......I even asked Jonathan if we could affect a trade, I'd trade Joey and all his drama for him. Lucas and Brennan would like another little boy to play with and lord knows, after all the boys, I would love to play 'gramma' to a little girl....but that is just wishful thinking. Ending our meal, we head out to the Omaha airport and IOWA!<br />
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We get to the airport in plenty of time to get checked in. We pass the ticket counter with no problems...then we hit security. Remember when I said Justin jinxed us? Well, part of his stories included how, with his artificial parts, he was pulled by the TSA and checked when he went thru security...I told him so far so good for me...well, not on the return trip. We strip off any metal, wallets, keys, belts, shoes, etc. and pass thru the scanner. Joe had to take apart his CPAP, unlike Philly but we didn't think anything of it until my turn came up. I go thru the scanner, they ask me to again...then they have me put my hands over my head 'in a diamond shape' and turn around....I felt like one of those ballerina hippos in Fantasia, then they pull me aside. Urp. I'm in deep doodoo now. I have to assume the position and get a good frisking (Joe said they didn't even buy me dinner and flowers first before they felt me up)....it wouldn't have been so bad if the nice looking young man running the scanner had done it (I bet HIS hands would have been warm), but it was a 65ish looking little woman with cold, bird claw hands saying 'you got anything here, or here, or here'.....I told them the only metal was in my arm, and it should have shown up on the scanner, but oh no, not today, that wasn't good enough. That should have been our first warning on the return trip....it wasn't like the outgoing trip.<br />
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We get on the plane and find out that the plane wasn't as empty as it had been going 'to' Omaha (was there a mass exodus? Maybe it was just normal Friday 'whoo hoo' get the hell outta town' sorta thing). We ended sitting in a three seat row, the window seat already taken (no return pictures, sorry) and nothing of any consequense except for the pilot hitting every pothole between Omaha and Chicago.....it was one bumpy ride. We get to Chicago by 5 and have an hour delay. The boarding gate was empty at the time, but we had 'C's on our boarding passes, which did not bode well. When they were ready to board passengers, the place was crawling, literally, with people.....There are 60 places for each alphabet, so that meant by the time they got to us, there already were 120 people on the 737.....we were 125 and 126. The plane was packed when we got on, and I was not in a good mood. I told Joe that how I felt on take off in Philly would be verbalized 'loudly' if we couldn't get a seat together. We get on and the only seats left are the middles of a couple of rows. Hearing that we wanted to sit together, a nice young man from Temple offered to move to another row and let us sit together.....again, thank God, as I didn't want to go all Diana Ross and risk getting tossed in Chicago. <br />
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Again, as in the trip out, we get a tailwind and make Philly 15 minutes earlier than the 8:55 arrival time. This is good, as there are two trains leaving from the airport to center city Philly the rest of the evening, the first being 9:21 and the second 10:21. I was afraid we would end up with the last train, meaning we would have a wait at 30th Street station for the Cornwells train, and Joe's dad would have to get us around midnight. Our luggage came out of the shoot, we grabbed it and made a mad rush for the train platform. We called home and had Jill check the schedule for us when we were in Omaha and verified it while we in Chicago, so we hoped above hope that we would get the train. Down the on the platform we see a sign that says 'this platform closed' and the train sitting on the next platform.....the time is 9:20. The Keystone Cops couldn't have scripted what happened next any better.......two suitcases, a carry on bag, a pocketbook the size of Rhode Island, a CPAP bag, and a suit bag bumping beside two slightly round, very out of shape, lumps trying to get from one platform (up one elevator, across the hall, down another elevator) in one minute. We hurtle toward the train, flop in a seat and whoosh, the door snaps closed. We made it. <br />
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We get to 30th Street with only minutes to spare for the next train to Cornwells Heights. If we get it, we can have Joe's dad pick us up by 10:30 and we will be an hour and a half ahead of schedule. We were late getting to the platform, but again, our angels were helping us, as the train itself was late. I wanted to whip out the camera and document the final leg of our adventure, but Joe wisely reminded me, it's late, it's Philly and you don't want to look like a tourist in a metropolitan city after dark....so no documentation there, either, boys and girls. The train was 10 minutes late, we got on, and we were on our way. Three stops before ours, we call Dad and tell him to come and get us. Our train stops right as he is pulling in to the parking lot. Sweet relief, we are back to Dad's, I get to visit the little girls room (the Imodium was very, very good to me this trip) and we load up our stuff in Joe's little Hyundai and off we head for home. <br />
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On the way, we go, 'oh crap, we didn't eat anything for dinner'.....we were running on pure adrenaline and fear...him on adrenaline and me the fear that if I ate anything after lunch or while we were in the midst of traveling, I would need the airline bathroom...and after almost mooning the friendly skies between Philadelphia and Chicago on the way out, that was an experience I did not want to revisit. So after all the wining and dining we experienced in our last few days, we end up at the local convenience store near the house and Joe gets a hot dog and I get nachos......Nachos, you may ask, when all I have been doing is popping Imodium like Chiklits....well, when the 'cheese' is synthetic and non-dairy, it doesn't have the same effect....definitely not good for me, but it did what it had to do in a pinch. Joe backs into the driveway at 11:55 p.m. on Friday night 9/28. We completed the whole experience in three days. <br />
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Wednesday we were in Philadelphia, not knowing what we were in for.....late Friday, we were back in Philadelphia after having a life changing experience in Omaha, Nebraska. Did I do everything I wanted? Looking back, I would have liked to have seen more, I would have liked to have seen Boy's Town, I wanted to visit the Mercy Sisters facility that Jamie works through.....woulda, shoulda, coulda, I know. But to quote another great Sou'thrn woman, Scarlett O'Hara, 'tomorrow is another day'...There is always next time, right?<br />
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<br />Ginnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14287402498994673396noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4041501593810811003.post-2694618319249271402012-10-02T18:41:00.001-07:002012-10-02T18:41:29.842-07:00THE Trip - Day 2. The BanquetWell, we woke up at our usual time.....Joe usually gets up at 4:50 to shower and then wakes me up to make coffee and his lunch. We did on Thursday as well, only 4:50 Philly time is actually 3:50 Omaha time. He wanders out to the living area and finds the coffee maker. Ecstatic that there is a coffee maker, he opens the pods and makes both cups.....only to be disappointed that each makes only a 6 oz. cup....so poor thing, he only has 12 oz. of coffee and it's only 4:30 in the morning and the breakfast buffet put on my the hotel begins at 6 am. THE HORROR!!!! Me, well, I say, it's 4:30 in the FREAKIN' MORNING.....go back to bed. He eventually does, but keeps an eye on the clock...watching and waiting......by 5:30 he is up, dressed and heading for the elevator, with me in tow, to get that precious black liquid that makes his life complete.....the breakfast buffet smells lovely, but we are going to breakfast with Jonathan as soon as his meeting at the office is over, so it's just coffee and more coffee for us. By 8 a.m. Joe is human again and we people watch in the lobby. <br />
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While waiting for Jonathan, we see his colleague, Justin, coming in to pick up the Radiology Division Employee of the Year. She had flown in from Maui, but Justin told us that she came from Pennsylvania as well. When we asked, we were told Bushkill Township and that she had attended Northampton Community College! Now Joe attended Lehigh Carbon Community, but we actually live closer to NCC! To think, we go to Omaha from Coopersburg and she flies in from Maui only to find out that she is from no more than 40 miles from where we live. After having an 'old home week' reunion, they leave to be on their way and Jonathan arrives and we're off......<br />
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We go to a diner for breakfast. Geez, I am totally in awe that Omahans, Omahians, oh hell, people from Omaha....aren't the size of small city-states by the size of their meals and portions!!! Jonathan gets something called a Trucker Omelet and Joe gets an Andouille sausage omelet. Me, I'm still stuffed from that 'petite' steak the night before (and let's be honest, all the Imodium I have been ingesting) so I get a simple chicken salad platter. Let's start with there was 'nothing' simple about that chicken salad....chicken and celery, a few spices and mayo we expect....but this had grapes, craisins, walnuts and a few various and sundry other items in it as well....and instead of the obligatory scoop of salad, there is is two, and guess what? I get a 'side salad' to go with it!!!! I eat, well, attempt to eat, push a bit around the plate and eat a little bit more while we discuss what we will do the rest of the day. The guys are done and we head back out to the SUV.....I eye it hesitantly as I think we may have to call a rollback to lift me back in the vehicle. With me finally in and relieved to find out an extension is not needed for the seat-belt we head to downtown Omaha to take the grand tour. <br />
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After seeing the upswing the formerly downtrodden downtown area is taking, we end up at the Durham Western Heritage Museum. This is housed in the former Union Pacific Railway Station. For those who are train happy (and there are more than a few of you)....this is the railhead for the Union Pacific as it's headquarters were in Omaha. Built similar in size and style to Philadelphia's 30th Street Station, it is a huge edifice of marble and soaring ceilings and just entering it, you can see the ghosts of the millions of people whose lives intersected at this place at some wrinkle in time. You felt if you closed your eyes, you could hear the whistles, hear the steam and chugging made by the multitudes of trains and feel the breezes made by men and women rushing to make their connections in another time. We pass thru the doors and enter a glass elevator that faces the once busy track area and you see the sister station across the expanse that housed the freight terminal. Exiting the elevator, you see a map on the floor....all of Omaha is at your feet.....streets, highways, interstates, places of interest....it's all there..waiting for you. The museum then beckons you. <br />
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We go thru a caboose, a pullman, and then inspect Engine #1234 of the Union Pacific. Apparently the westward expansion began here and the railroad was primary in this.....there were displays of all the cars used by the Union Pacific, banners of all the railroads that ran thru this station and a layout that showed how the railroad affected daily life. From there you saw Main Street America...a history of cabins, Native American homes (lodge, tipis, and hogans), one room school houses and general stores and the growth of Omaha. Panoramas of the city from it's inception to the current time......really neat. The most moving, however is an exhibit of the American Soldier....it traced the history of the American Soldier from the Civil War to the current time. Unfortunately, there were no photos allowed or I would be snapping away...this was THAT moving. There were some silly shots mixed in, to show the humanity of the soldiers, but mostly they showed the inhumanity of war.....babies, and I do mean babies, dressed up in their Union or Confederate uniforms then later shots showing the same babies laying in ditches, some in disarray, obviously dead. The same youthful faces looked out from doughboys of the Great War then the same death stare. I was moved to see the soldiers in Korea, and the description of just how cold it was there. We joked to break the tension, saying we were so glad that our friend, Will, was not there to see them as he would hop in his plane and go get Christie (his daughter, currently stationed in Korea with the Army) for no other reason than to make sure she is warm. I was moved to tears, almost, when we passed thru the Persian Gulf/Afghanistan/Iraq photos...thinking of the casualties, some not visible, of those who served there. <br />
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We had to shake it off and move on to the history of Omaha......sights and signs of the growth....wagons, hospital growth, bank histories, and the growth of department stores.....being human again, we ended our tour back in the gift shop where I HAD to get the grandbabies something (remember, this is WHY I was allowed to get on the pwane). I had text messaged their mother and asked what they wanted....B wanted a 'bad guy' and Lucas wanted a 'gun'. Since neither were going to get what they asked for.....we ended up getting them each a buffalo....I got our resident Civil War buff a set of playing cards with Union and Confederate generals and shot glasses for Josh and Alyssa. From there we went to the 'old city' and ended up at the Visitors' Center. Again, a shot from home, the gentleman at the desk wanted to ask us about Dorney Park! We saw a t-shirt that said 'Walk on Bob'.....intrigued, we asked what that meant and were told about the history of a government pork product...the Bob Kerrey Pedestrian Walkway, a bridge connecting Omaha with Iowa. It was decided, then and there, that was our next stop. So, from the museum to the 'old city', past the rodeo that was in town, around the brand spanking new ballpark and then past the sewage treatment plant (why? why do major cities put tourist sites next to these things? We know we all need them but since when are they considered 'tour worthy'?) Finally we ended up walking up the ramp and standing in the middle of the span over the Missouri River. We could look downriver and find the lights of the casinos and up river and see the damage from the floods of a year or so ago. What was striking was standing there and looking at the skyline of Omaha, seeing the Woodsmen of the World tower, the Mutual of Omaha building and any number of large buildings in the forefront, then to turn and look at Iowa, and see....well, dirt. With the exception of seeing a building in the distance that was indicated to be the casino, there was nothing else......just beach. Looking down at the shore, there was a single pop-up tent. Jonathan remarked that the area was not a designated recreational area so Joe remarks that since there is no other sign of life in Iowa, that must be the lone homeless person from that state. With that, we look at the time and realized we have to be getting back, as the dinner/photo op/cocktail appointed time of 5 p.m. was fast approaching and we must be getting back.....running to avoid the fumes of the treatment plant we had to pass by to get back to the vehicle, our Day 2 touring was complete....now to the big magilla.<br />
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On the way to the hotel, I asked if we were going to pass a Target. In my haste, I had packed the empty deodorant for Joe and I wanted to pick up a new one, and I also thought 'I'll give those nimrods another chance at those damnable cookies (remember in the Prelude I told you those cookies would come in play later). Sure enough, there they sat.....a whole shelf of them (I did tell Target in another not so nice email, that I had to go to Omaha FREAKIN Nebraska to finally find them). I pick up three packages, one for Jamie, one for Christie, and one for Gavin (Jonathan's little boy - I gotta grease the kid up if I'm gonna go all Gramma on him the next day, I wanna make a friend first!!!) After this Jonathan drops us off to get ready and went home to smarten up himself and then, whoa, it was really sinking in....this was it. <br />
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Back in the hotel room, showered and primped.....Joe suited up....Black on black, his pop of color was a gecko tie....he had Jonathan sweating it whether he was going to wear neon green bobos....he shouldn't have. He was presentable. Now it was my turn. Black dress, black shoes, black jade earrings (thanks to Josh who bought them on ebay for me, like I would have thought of jewelry) now comes the horror....make up. I used to be pretty good at it, but I haven't put on make-up in a good ten years and I had to go out and buy new, I was so horrified I would look like Mimi from the old Drew Carey show that I literally shook when I put it on. I had to send Joe down to wait for Jonathan, I was that worried that I would mess it up totally and have to scrub my face and start over...then came the hair. Spray and curling iron, although not as foreign as the make-up,it still give me agita. So, being fashionably late, I am finally done and go down in the elevator to meet my two exceedingly handsome escorts. (I know some will say, where are the pictures of you?.....a set was taken for the formal occassion, but otherwise I avoided that side of the camera. I may explain later, or not)<br />
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Entering in the hall, there are two bars, a 'mingle' area and the dining/presentation area. Besides Joe, each division of C & A Industries has their own Employee of the Year, so there were to be eight presentations in all. His was the third of the night. We go on to chat and laugh with all the people we only knew as 'names and voices' before and we had a really good time, we had the most fun with the young ladies in the office who were *intrigued* by the names of the towns in Pennsylvania Dutch country....all you would have to to set them off was tell them you go past Virginville into Blue Ball before you get to Intercourse. They were giggling in their drinks at the thought of this. Finally, we get to sit down and have our dinner.......we had roast beef, 'rubber' chicken (as one of the other honoree's significant others called it), au gratin potatoes, vegetable orzo, and 'mustgovian' veggies (the kind where they opened the freezer and combined all that they found that had been previously opened). Dinner over, the festivities began.<br />
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Two were called before Joe. Then the video started for him. I had been asked to provide pictures of his life and they compiled a video telling everyone what makes him so special. (Like I didn't know this, I married the lug, ya know). Jonathan is called upon to present Joe with his award and Joe has to speak. I expected him to say 'I'd like to thank the Academy' or some other BS, at least to thank Jonathan and Bill....but no...who does he thank. The Big Shit thanks ME!!! He tells them I have been there thru thick and thin (duh, that's what I signed on for, I'm nothing if not loyal) and he almost, ALMOST, made me cry..called me his 'blushing bride of 29 years'...(how sappy can you get). Then I thought about how much agita I had over putting on that make up and said to myself...'hell, no, I'm not gonna cry...I'm gonna kick his ass....that's what I'm gonna do'. Dude really knows how to throw a curve, I'm usually the cohort tho, not the victim of said curve. To tell you the truth, I don't remember what else was said about the others, I was too 'moved' to pay much attention, that and plotting my revenge for mortifying me.....<br />
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The dinner was done, speeches over, and the room was being broken down by 9. We stood in the lobby for another 30 minutes or so...Networking. Jackie Smith...call me. Your name came up in conversation more than once, were your ears burning last Thursday? In the end, we ascended in the same glass elevator we made our grand entrance in, and back to the room we went. Changing into something comfortable, we head back downstairs to the bar. Feeling flush, we order something 'different'. Joe says to me, you know, I've never had a Bloody Mary...I want a Bloody Mary. Me, I get something called a Citrus Sunrise....citrus vodka, lemonade and club soda.....the kind of drink that you think is a girly drink, with no kick...until you stand up. Our celebration over, everyone from C & A having gone home to their loved ones, we go out on the patio in front of the hotel, enjoy the breeze of the 60 degree weather, and wonder whether or not this night could get any better.<br />
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Content with our state, we call it a night and go up to bed. We will need our rest for what the morrow brings...beside having to get all our belongings together we will have a full day of baby cuddling, kid chasing and otherwise saying good-bye to Omaha and all the people we have come to know and love. <br />
<br />Ginnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14287402498994673396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4041501593810811003.post-72982071251396114402012-10-01T20:49:00.000-07:002012-10-01T20:49:51.480-07:00THE Trip - Day 1Woke up (ha, yeah right, didn't sleep much) on the day of the flight. All the luggage was put in the trunk the night before and all we had to do was get dressed (and me take yet another Imodium). Night before I get a message from the youngest grandson........he had packed a bag and tried to 'go to Gwamma's' and when his mommy said I was going away on a trip he yells 'Gwammma!!! Get offa da pwane'...so of course we thought we were jinxed. Thank goodness, it was only a cry for 'bring me goodies, lots of goodies' and not a curse. <br />
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Our train was to leave Cornwells Heights train station at 5:59 a.m. We got to Joe's dad's at 5:25. We had made arrangements for us to leave the car at his house and he would drop us at the train station in time for the train and then pick us up when we got back....saved us from either parking and leaving the car at the Lansdale train station near us or, heaven forbid, paying the astronomical fees at the Philly Airport to park for three days. We got there in time to buy a ticket from the agent soon were chugging down the rails towards Philly. We planned to go to Market East station, but the consensus of the commuters on the train with us said we would get to the airport sooner if we got off at 30th Street (Amtrak Station) instead, so we did. They were right. According the original schedule, we would get to the airport at 7:58 a.m. and we were to be at the airport two hours before flight time (10 a.m.). Instead, we got to 30th Street at 7:04 and had enough time to buy our tickets and for me to attempt to defrost (I was C-O-L-D, cold) and Joe to have one of his multiple cups of coffee that he needs to survive. I go up to Dunkin Donuts in the train terminal and the poor girl behind the counter was having a 'really, really bad day'. She had just dropped sugar on the floor and then dropped a 'shit' right in front of her supervisor, so she was frazzled. She asked what I wanted....I told her my husband wanted a cup of coffee and she asked how I wanted it....I told her 'he likes his coffee the way he likes his women, hot, sweet and black, but all he got was white and cold, so could I get a medium cup'....she dropped her mouth, then started to laugh. Glad I made her day. The $2 for a medium cup of coffee didn't do much for mine.<br />
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We catch the train from 30th Street and get to airport at least 20 minutes early. We get our tickets, check our bags and zip thru security all before the 7:58 the original train was scheduled to arrive. We were ahead of schedule....whooo hooo. <br />
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While we were waiting, we were going to get something to eat...I know, I know, airport food is expensive, but you can't take ANYTHING past security and I didn't want to piss them off and get tossed before we even got to the airplane. Went by a couple of food stands........now our mamas didn't raise no fools, we were not gonna pay $10 for a breakfast sandwich so we ended up at McDonalds (it's been a good year since I ate fast food - Thank YOU Jesus for Imodium) and Joe got a cup of coffee with his sandwich so all was good.<br />
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We flew Southwest and they have a system of seating that places you in groups, then you sit where you want. We were in the second group, #35 and #36. We were able to sit in a three-group seat and he had the aisle and I had the window (no one in between). Now, I am not a 'flying virgin'...but almost. I have only flown two other times, once in 1982 to Orlando and back, and then to Chicago in 2002 for Joey's boot camp graduation. I have no pictures from our take off since I was ripping Joe's hand off praying to Jesus not to let me die when the plane banked on take-off and I felt like I was gonna fall out the window (Insert Mitt Romney airplane joke of choice here). Then when we hit the 'bump' when we went thru the clouds and lost sight of the ground I changed my prayer to 'oh lord, let the Imodium work'.......fortunately for us, it did. AND we got a tail wind and made Chicago in record time, arriving 30 minutes early. <br />
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Thank goodness, we just had to go from one end of the terminal to the other in Chicago (no security checkpoints) and they did have moving walkways, so we just found our gate and waited. Our gate was right near the bathrooms (yeah, God truly WAS my co-pilot that day)and the plane arrived early. We were able to board and get situated and soon were on our way to Omaha!!!<br />
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We were scheduled to arrive at 1:55 in Omaha. Yet again, we had a tail wind and made it about 15 minutes ahead of time. Not only was our baggage waiting for us (no loses, no missed flights) but our 'chauffeur' was waiting for us by the baggage carousel. Jonathan (remember him from the Prelude - he's the Contract Manager) was 'supposed' to pick us up, but he had a meeting to attend, so 'his' boss, Joe's original Contract Manager from when he first started, Bill Halloran, was there to pick us up. Now Bill is nice man, and a good choice to send to meet someone in a crowd. Tall dude, real tall with a big smile. Soon we were on our way out of the airport and off to Aureus's offices. Interesting bit of useless information.....we visited two states at this time. The Omaha, NEBRASKA airport is actually in Council Bluffs, IOWA!!! So in 15 minutes, we went from Iowa to Omaha and then to C&A Industries (Aureus' parent company). Jonathan met us at the doors and was taken short when he realized that when Joe told him earlier that he would be at the airport with 'bells on' he actually meant it, as I have a necklace made of sleigh bells from Christmas that Joe had on and jangled at him when he came out the door. After regaining his composure he took us on the grand tour of the offices that all of Joe's contracts are sent from (when he remembers to hit the button and send it on as an attachment)......I had a flash back to when I worked for Prudential....all the cubicles, or gopher farm as it is often called, filled with people on their phones doing what it is that they do. Joe got to meet all the people to whom he has talked with over the years and finally got to torment them in person. In fact, he had been receiving emails from a young lady named Melissa regarding the updating of his training...the last piece of this puzzle was his CPR card. To the joy of all surrounding her, he goes up to her and whips out his wallet and pulls out the CPR card, hands it over and said 'here, I HAD to hand deliver this, flew out to Omaha JUST TO GIVE THIS TO YOU!!!' <br />
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After laughing and joking around a bit, it was decided that those who weren't 'lucky enough' to be the manager of the EMPLOYEE OF THE YEAR had to get back to work plotting the overthrow, or at least revenge of the Nerf dart kind, of the manager of the current one (aka Jonathan). It was up to Jonathan to get us to the hotel and see that we were checked in. Now we knew that we weren't going to be put up in the Motel 6, but we were not expecting what we got. We were put up in in the Embassy Suites adjacent to the convention center that the banquet was to be held in. Let me describe this for you.....On one side is the Embassy Suites, on the opposite side is the Courtyard by Marriot and in the middle was the La Vista Conference Center ( <a href="http://embassysuites3.hilton.com/en/hotels/nebraska/embassy-suites-omaha-la-vista-hotel-and-conference-center-OMAESES/index.html">http://embassysuites3.hilton.com/en/hotels/nebraska/embassy-suites-omaha-la-vista-hotel-and-conference-center-OMAESES/index.html</a>) all I could say is OH.......MY....GOD!!! A two room suite, with a king sized bed and a bathroom that I instantly fell in love with. Now those of you who know me, KNOW how important the bathroom is to me. Not only was it huge, but it had two doors, I could go from the living area OR the bedroom area, no detours!!!! So, what does one do when one gets in a room like this? Joe, of course, as an homage to his mother, went looking for the Weather Channel. That was the 'only' disappointment. The channel was listed, but it had home shopping on it....oh well, Mom, we tried. Me, on the other hand, made a bee line for the shower. Marbled shower big enough for two (no, this was my shower time, not sharing my warm water time, nope, not happening) and enough hot water to steam all the 'airport grime' off my hide and hair. Everything cleaned and primed we went downstairs to the lobby and waited to be picked up for dinner. <br />
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The hotel had a 'manager's cocktail hour' between 5 and 7 every night, but we didn't bother with that, as we were to be taken to one of the best steak houses in Omaha. When the plans were made for us to go out to Omaha, Jonathan asked Joe what he wanted to do. He told him 'eat meat'. Since Omaha was known for it's steaks, Joe wanted the biggest steak in Omaha. We ended up at The Drover (<a href="http://droverrestaurant.com/">http://droverrestaurant.com/</a>) and both of the guys ordered a 22 oz. whiskey marinaded steak and a potato...I ordered a 'petite'.....that was *only* 10 oz. We enjoyed a nice, leisurely meal, good conversation and made plans for the next day. I told Jonathan that the *only* thing I was concerned with was meeting his two little kids.......having heard so much about them, and what his wife went thru having the last little one, I HAD to love on those babies. The grandbabies by birth were back in Pennsylvania, but the Gramma was on the prowl, so of course I needed some 'honorary' grandbabies to cuddle. With plans made, we were returned to the hotel and I got up close and personal with that king sized bed. I was chilly and when I got under that fluffy comforter, I *think* the television was on....can't tell you for sure. It was a Wednesday, so I put on SyFy, figuring I would watch some mindless TV (Ghost Hunters), but a haunting was not in store... unless you call Morpheus calling a 'haunting'. <br />
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Thus closes the first day of Joe and Ginny's Excellent Adventure. It began early in Coopersburg/Philadelphia and ended in LaVista, Nebraska.....Good night, peeps, Day 2, THE Award ceremony is coming up.Ginnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14287402498994673396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4041501593810811003.post-90937882343215564542012-10-01T18:01:00.000-07:002012-10-01T18:01:43.202-07:00(drum roll please) THE Trip - the Prelude<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Way back when, say the end of July-middle of August, the Hubster, as he is known on Facebook, otherwise known as Joe Tadrzynski, was talking to his Contract Manager who handles his employment with Aureus Medical. This is not unusual as this transpires usually two to three times a week for an average of 45 minutes at a shot and covers many topics relating to and often having absolute jack to do with his work. During this one conversation the topic of awards came up. Jonathan, his manager, say 'oh, by the way, you were put up for our employee of the year'. Joe, being Joe, said, 'yeah right, pull the other one'. They laughed, they joked and left it at that. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">About a week later, when they are shooting the bull yet again, the topic comes up again. This time, Joe is told, 'by the way, you won employee of the year for the therapy division'. Now both Joe and Jonathan have a give and take relationship and so Joe, again, tells him to pull the other one'....Jonathan says 'no, I'm serious'......and get's an 'okay, buddy' in response. In our email account the next day, we find a letter from the CFO, Scott Thompson congratulating Joe on being named Aureus Medical (Therapy Division) Employee of the Year. This shit just got real. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Next telephone conversations entails 'now what'. It is determined that not only has he been named Employee of the Year, but they will fly him and a plus one (ME! ME! ME!) to the company headquarters in Omaha, NE and will put us up in a hotel and entertain us the day before, the day of and the day after the awards banquet. (September 26-28, 2012)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Saddled with this information, we take a good hard look at each other. The last suit Joe bought and had fitted to his frame was in 1977, when, in the Navy and in England, he gets a suit on Saville Row. Lord knows what happened to that poor little sailor, but if we could find that suit a 30" waist line is long gone. So, being the conscientious shopper, Joe reads all the ads and finds that Joseph A Banks has a sale on suits. Buy one, get three free (note, he only needs ONE suit, but oh well, off to JAB we go). We get said suits......fine looking suits....fitted to his frame. Me, I whack my ankle on a clothing rack and rip it open (I'll be fine - NOT). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">In the interim, we send our eldest daughter teach in Arizona with AmeriCorps (whole 'nuther story for a whole 'nuther blog). While sending her off, the aforementioned whacked ankle swells to massive proportions and I get a nice raging fever. Going to the doctor, I find I have a staph infection, oh, and when it doesn't respond to antibiotics, they say 'oh, yeah, it is now MRSA'.....sob. I go thru the gyrations that now that I have a months worth of antibiotics, mega-antibiotics, vitamins and pills to make my normally screwed up tummy even less screwed up, I may not get medically cleared to go with him. This kills me. I suggest amputation. The doctor laughs, I'm serious. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">To make a long story short. The MRSA abates and now I need a dress. I don't do dress up. Used to. Used to wear a suit and carry a briefcase when I worked in insurance in the '80's. But it's not the 80's any more and like Joe and his English suit, if I HAD any of my fancy-schmancy clothes from the 80's they not only would be sadly out of style but breathing in them might prove difficult. I look and find nothing. NOTHING. Joe says, 'let's go look at dresses'. First freakin' dress he looks at on me, he says 'buy it'. I'm like, no, let's look, and he's like 'no, buy it'......so, since it was 50% off, we figure if we find something different, I can always take it back. We didn't. So it was the long black dress with silver trim, and then three pairs of shoes later (two to go back, one I wore) here it was the week before, and we hit the ground running to get the rest of the stuff ready. This is starting to look like it is actually going to happen. Starting to feel blessed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The week before, Joe goes and gets a shave and a hair cut. Now, to most guys, this is a natural thing, but for him, well, it's always an adventure. The hair cut is no big deal, shorten the hair to controllable range (if left to it's own devices and humid weather, he would look like a poodle), but the beard always intimidates hairdressers/barbers. With a lot of oversight (by me) and a few well placed snips by the young lady at Holiday Hair .....'Whoa, lookin' good, dude'..........while there, I ask what can be done to my skunk hair....you know, the kind with a white/gray streak in it. She tells me there is a new color process of blending....makes the gray sort of blend in and not look so, so, so 'old'. So next in line is me......Monday I get the hair dyed and cut.....the unibrow tamed and shaped down to two and then......on Tuesday, I do the unthinkable. I get my nails done. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Now, I have had my nails 'done' before. Usually just a shape and paint deal. This time it's for real...this time.....I get NAILS put on. I have these big plasticine nails on the tips of my fingers and painted and decorated and smoothed and filed and......well, you get the picture. At least Joe likes the fact that they are hard and stiff and I can really scratch his back where he can't reach....like that's a plus for me (can ya scratch over here, yaaaaa, right there). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Tuesday is D-day....we gotta finish all the packing, and making lists and re-checking them before leaving on Wednesday. I go to Target to pick up prescriptions and other odds and ends we need (panty hose, travel sized toiletries, etc.) and to check on one other thing.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">That other thing? Well, Target has been advertising these new Oreos for Halloween. Seems they are the 'exclusive' point of sale for Candy Corn Oreos. The eldest daughter (remember her from four paragraphs up) 'LOVES" candy corn. Darling Daddy, when told Target has these, tells his 'baby girl' ....."if you want them, WE'LL get them and mail them to you", so for the past week or two I attempted to find them in at least three different Targets. While preparing to go to Omaha, I am also now on the elusive hunt for Candy Corn Oreos......no luck. I send not one, but two scathing emails to Target telling them of my disdain that they do not have said Oreos that I wanted to buy and send to not only Darling Daughter but Darling 'Niece-type Person' (college roommate's daughter, stationed in the military in Korea) - lay on the guilt- but I probably won't shop there again since they practiced false advertising!!! Why am I digressing? Just keep this point in mind.....it will come in handy later. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Back home, packed and showered. We are finally ready to go. Go to bed? Fugeddaboutit! Joe sleeps like a log, a snoring log, since his CPAP is packaged and ready to go....Me? Well, can someone get me another Immodium? 3:30 a.m. comes pretty early. </span>Ginnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14287402498994673396noreply@blogger.com0Coopersburg, PA 18036, USA40.5114885 -75.39045840.499416499999995 -75.410198999999992 40.5235605 -75.370717tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4041501593810811003.post-47378830597954098392012-05-15T12:58:00.001-07:002012-05-15T12:58:06.611-07:00On to Tamar MyersI know, it's been a couple of weeks, but things here have been hectic.......Eldest daughter is getting ready to graduate from college......three degrees, multiple honors and Magna Cum Laude!!!! But more of that later.....Today it's back to the my new resolve....to post recipes taken from books that AREN'T cookbooks (see Chris Dabney, I DO read other things than cookbooks).<br />
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Today I am taking the recipes from one of Tamar Myers' Pennsylvania Dutch Mysteries. The premise of this series of books (I think there are 14) is that of Magdalena Yoder, a spinster who runs the Penn Dutch Inn in Hernia, PA. Like Jessica Fletcher in 'Murder She Wrote'...this quiet little down in Nowherespecial, PA draws people who come to get killed and somehow Magdalena is always in the middle. Although she is a hobby sleuth, she never turns down a good meal, and this is where the inserted recipes come in. In the book I just read, 'Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Crime'....a movie production crew comes to Penn Dutch Inn to serialize a couple of murders that happened in Hernia earlier. As expected, murder and mayhem ensue, but Magdalena gets her feed bag on, you can count on it. Here are the recipes included in this books (with thanks to Tamar Myers and her Pennsylvania Dutch relatives that provided them):<br />
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<b>Freni Hostetler's Recipe for Shoo fly Pie</b> <i>(Freni is Magdalena's sixth(?) cousin and housekeeper/cook)</i><br />
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1 9" unbaked pie cruse<br />
1 1/2 cups of flour<br />
1/2 cup dark brown sugar<br />
1 tsp. cinnamon<br />
1/2 tsp. nutmeg<br />
Pinch of ground cloves<br />
1/4 tsp. salt<br />
1 stick cold butter (1/2 cup)<br />
3/4 cup of water<br />
3/4 cup unsulphered molasses<br />
1/2 tsp. baking soda<br />
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Combine flour, brown sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves and salt. Cut the butter into pats and add it to the flour mixture. Using a form, mash the butter into the flour mixture until you get a texture like coarse crumbs. Combine the water, molasses, and baking soda. Pour into the unbaked pie crust. Then spoon the crumb mixture onto the liquid. Bake at 375 degrees for thirty-five to forty minutes. Best if served at room temperature.<br />
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<b>Grandma Yoder's Secret Corn Chowder</b><br />
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1 lb. bacon<br />
1 large onion, chopped<br />
1 can cream of chicken soup<br />
1 pint half and half<br />
2 cans creamed corn<br />
salt and pepper to taste<br />
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Start by cooking up the bacon. Grandma fried her bacon in a cast iron skillet. Crumble the cooked bacon and set it aside, saving two or three tablespoons of the grease. In a large pot, saute the onion in the bacon grease until it softens and begins to brown. Stir in the cream of chicken soup and the half and half. Dump in the creamed corn and season to taste with salt and pepper. Serve with the crumbled bacon sprinkled on top. The soup tastes even better when made the day before and allowed to sit in the refrigerator over night. Just remember to heat it up very slowly the next day so it doesn't scorch, as it is rather thick.<br />
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<b>Doc Shafer's Recipe for Green-tomato Pie</b> <i>(Doc Shafer is an 80-something vet, who the people of Hernia ask for free medical advice for themselves, a rather handsy old goat, something Magdalena deals with in order to get to eat his cooking)</i><br />
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6 or 7 medium sized green tomatoes without blemishes (without wrinkles if you want to peel them), approximately 3 cups when chopped.<br />
2 tablespoons lemon juice<br />
1/2 teaspoon salt<br />
3/4 teaspoon cinnamon<br />
3/4 cup sugar<br />
2 tablespoon cornstarch<br />
Top and bottom pie crust (use pre-made if you want)<br />
1 tablespoon margarine or butter<br />
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Wash the tomatoes. Peel them if you want, but it's a lot of trouble and not really necessary. Cut the tomatoes into bite-sized pieces. Combine the tomato bits with the next three ingredients in a saucepan. Cook for about 15 minutes. Mix the sugar and the cornstarch together and slowly stir it into the tomato mixture. Cook for a few minutes, until the sugar and the cornstarch become clear. Add margarine and allow to cool slightly. Line a 9" pine pan with the bottom crust and pour in the tomato mixture. Put on top crust and seal the edges. Crimp narrow strips of aluminum foil around the edge to prevent it from getting too brown. Poke numerous holes with a fork across the top to allow steam to escape. Bake for 40-50 minutes at 425 degrees. Some people like to eat the pie warm, but Doc much prefers it cold. <br />
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<b>Freni Hostetler's Version of Beef Yum Yai</b> <i>(Thai cold beef salad)</i><br />
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1 lb. of thinly sliced roast beef<br />
2 medium cucumbers<br />
3 bunches of green onions<br />
juice of three limes<br />
1 tablespoon lemon zest<br />
1 tablespoon of fish sauce<br />
1/2 teaspoon salt<br />
Lettuce leaves<br />
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Cut the roast beef into 1/2" wide strips. Peel and slice the cucumbers, then cut cucumber slices in half. Chop the green onions. Assemble the first even ingredients and mix well just before serving. Serve on a bed of lettuce leaves.<br />
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<b>Freni Hostetler's Rendition of Tom Yam Goonk</b><br />
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3 cups of chicken broth<br />
1 cup coconut milk<br />
1 can straw mushrooms, drained<br />
Juice of two limes<br />
1 bunch of scallions<br />
1 stalk of lemon grass, sliced, or zest of one lemon<br />
1 tablespoon fish sauce<br />
1/4 tsp. salt<br />
1/4 teaspoon of galanga powder (if available)<br />
1 hot green chili pepper, chopped<br />
3/4 lb. peeled and deveined shrimp<br />
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Bring all the ingredients but the shrimp to a boil. Add the shrimp and cook at reduced heat for another three minutes, or until the shrimp are done. Serve piping hot in bowls, with white rice on the side. <br />
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<b>Freni's Super-Duper Company Meat Loaf</b><br />
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1 lb. ultra lean ground beef<br />
3/4 lb. ground pork<br />
1 pkg. onion soup mix<br />
1/2 cup dry quick oats<br />
2 raw eggs<br />
2 tablespoons ketchup<br />
1/4 teaspoon group black pepper<br />
3 hard-boiled eggs, peeled<br />
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Thoroughly mix all ingredients except the boiled eggs. In a 9"x13" glass baking dish, form an inch-high strip of mixture, approximately three inches wide and eleven inches long. Space the three boiled eggs along this strip and cover with the remaining meat. Pat and smooth to seal in the eggs and to give a uniform appearance. Bake at 350 degrees for about 45 minutes. When slightly cooled, slice with a sharp knife. Many of the resulting pieces will display a slice of hard boiled egg for a colorful and attractive presentation.<br />
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<b>My Own </b><i>(Magdalena Yoder's)</i><b> Peanut Butter Apple </b>Cake<br />
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1/4 cup softened butter<br />
1 cup brown sugar<br />
3/4 cup chunky peanut butter<br />
1 egg<br />
1 cup chunk style applesauce<br />
1 1/2 cups sifted flour<br />
1 teaspoon baking powder<br />
1 teaspoon salt<br />
1 teaspoon cinnamon<br />
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg<br />
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves<br />
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Cream together the butter, sugar, and peanut butter. Beat in the egg. Stir in the applesauce. Sift the remaining dry ingredients together and slowly stir them into the batter. Mix well. Liberally grease and flour and 8" square pan. Pour the batter into the pan and bake at 350 degrees until done. (about 40-45 minutes) The cake is done when a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Cool before attempting to remove from the pan. <br />
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There are more of the Pennsylvania Dutch Mystery books and my daughter has a few more. I will, however, attempt to mix this up, as too much of one this may be a bit boring for you, my single digit in number readers. My next book is called Meshugganary a dictionary/encyclopedia of Yiddish culture and language. It includes sayings about food and a few kosher recipes knows in the Yiddish communities around the country. So, until next time..........Enjoy....I look forward to any comments you may have (so far, you guys have been unusually silent)...and again, if you have any suggestions of books that include recipes, let me know.<br />
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'Til the egg rolls,<br />
GinnyGinnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14287402498994673396noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4041501593810811003.post-59615410284679867752012-05-01T12:47:00.001-07:002012-05-01T12:47:33.780-07:00Hardscrabble Recipes RevisitedEarlier I stated what I intended to do with this blog and started with a book by Laurie Bogart Morrow called 'The Hardscrabble Chronicles'. I was able to include two recipes before Morpheus claimed me. I am now back to complete the recipes from this book. Again, you comments and suggestions are welcome and encouraged.<br />
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Miss Frannie's Sherried Beef<br />
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3 lbs. stew beef, cut in 1"cubes<br />
1 can sliced or button mushrooms<br />
1 envelope dry onion soup mix<br />
3/4 cup of sherry<br />
2 cans cream of mushroom soup<br />
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Brown the stew beef in a little olive oil in a hot (but not spitting hot) frying pan. Set aside. In a casserole, combine mushrooms in liquor, sherry and the only soup. Stir well and add the two cans of cream of mushroom soup. Add beef, turn with a wooden spoon until it is well-coated. Bake 3 hours in 325 degree oven. Serve over egg noodles. (may be made in crock pot and cook on low 3 1/2 to 4 hours).<br />
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Tutti-Fruitti Fruit Punch<br />
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1 box or small bag of frozen strawberries<br />
1 large can of frozen orange juice<br />
1 large can of pineapple juice, undiluted<br />
1 jar maraschino cherries<br />
1 liter of ginger ale.<br />
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The day before, arrange the strawberries in a decorative metal jello mold or ring. Fill 3/4 of the way with water. <br />
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Shortly before the company arrives, in a punch bowl, combine the orange juice with the pineapple juice, pouring a little of the pineapple juice at a time until the frozen orange juice is fully defrosted. Add the liquor from the jar of cherries. Just as your company begins to arrive, add the ginger ale slowly. Stir gently so that the punch does not froth. Add cherries, remove strawberry ice from the mold by topping it with a plate, turning it upside down and running it under hot water in the kitchen sink until the ice mold give. Float it on top of the punch for a festive holiday or summertime drink that is popular the whole year long.<br />
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Venison Mincemeat for Pie<br />
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9 cups of ground venison<br />
18 cups of apples, cored, and ground with the peel<br />
4 1/2 cups of molasses<br />
9 cups of granulated sugar<br />
3 tablespoons of cinnamon<br />
1 1/2 teaspoons of cloves<br />
1 1/2 teaspoons of salt<br />
3 teaspoons of nutmeg<br />
4 1/2 cups of cider vinegar<br />
1 cup white raisins<br />
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In a large pot, brown venison thoroughly and drain fat. Add apples and rest of the ingredients, and turn with a wooden spoon until thoroughly mixed. Cook until apples are tender but not too soft. If the mixture becomes too dry, add a little water. Cool. Prepare pie crust and bake, as usual. If you are not using the mixture immediately, store in airtight containers for up to two days or freeze in freezer bags, bring certain to collapse the bags of all air.<br />
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Hardscrabble Dinner Rolls<br />
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1 cup warm milk<br />
2 pkgs. or 2 tablespoons yeast, dissolved in the milk with 2 tablespoons sugar sprinkled on top to activate the yeast. Allow to proof in a warm, draft-free place, about 10 minutes. (Don't leave too long or the yeast will crust. If this happens, mix gently with a for to be sure it will proof again)<br />
1 teaspoon of salt<br />
2 tablespoons of melted butter<br />
2 1/2 cups of flour<br />
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Preheat the oven to 350. After the yeast proofs, add salt, butter and slowly add the flour, mixing with a wooden spoon until it becomes stiff. Then, knead until the dough is smooth and firm. Put in a warm, draft free place for 45 minutes or until it doubles in bulk. Pull apart dough, about the size of a ping pong ball, and twist into the shape of a Parker House roll. Set 2 inches apart on a greased cookie sheet, allow to rise again, about 15 minutes. Bake 10 minutes. For a golden crust, brush a little butter on the top of the rolls when they're done, turn off the oven and let them sit for another minute making sure they do not over brown. Or, separate a yolk from the white of an egg and beat a little water into the yolk until smooth. Use this to brush on the top of the roll. Brush the batter in layers of thin coatings, allowing a little time between each layer so that the batter doesn't puddle and soften the top of the roll. Serve immediately.<br />
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Hardscrabble Corn Pudding Bread<br />
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1 1/3 cups yellow cornmeal<br />
1/3 cup of flour<br />
1 teaspoon baking soda<br />
3 tablespoons brown sugar<br />
1 1/4 teaspoons salt<br />
1 cup milk<br />
2 eggs<br />
1 cup sour cream<br />
1 can creamed corn<br />
2 tablespoons melted butter<br />
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Preheat oven to 425. Sift dry ingredients together. In a separate bowl, mix eggs, sour cream, creamed corn, and melted butter until the mixture is creamy. Slowly pour this into the dry ingredients and mix well with a wire whisk or on low speed in a Mixmaster until the batter again is smooth. Pour slowly into a large buttered Pyrex baking pan. Reduce the oven to 350. Bring the pan to the oven, very slowly, pour the cup of milk right down the middle of the pan. DO NOT MIX. Carefully put the pan in the oven. Bake approximately 35 minutes or until done. Done is when the milk forms a pudding and the bread is moist. This must be served hot.<br />
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New England Boiled Dinner the Hardscrabble Way<br />
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1/2 lb. salt pork, cut into cubes<br />
1 3 lb. piece of corned beef<br />
1 pkg. dry onion soup<br />
2 cups apple cider vinegar<br />
1 tablespoon dry English mustard<br />
8 medium sized potatoes, peeled and quartered<br />
2 large onions, quartered and separated<br />
1 head green cabbage, quartered<br />
3-4 parsnips, peeled and diced coarse<br />
1 turnip, peeled and cubed<br />
4-6 carrots, peeled and diced coarse<br />
1 bay leaf<br />
salt and pepper to taste<br />
<br />
Cut vegetables as suggested. On medium high heat, brown the cubed salt pork in the pot and turn frequently with a wooden spoon until the fat is transparent. Add corned beef, turn and brown the outside. Then add the dry onion soup and continue to turn with the wooden spoon, coating the meat. Add vinegar, stir, and then add the mustard. Stir again. Gradually add the vegetables, turning them so that everything is well mixed. Fill the pot with water, covering the stew right up to the top, add the bay leaf, and season with salt and pepper to taste. <br />
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Simmer at least four hours at a gently rolling boil. Once the water has boiled down to half, add only enough to maintain this level. Turn the stew every so often so that all the vegetables cook thoroughly. <br />
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<br />
Pies<br />
The author's take on pies is that it is 'okay' to buy pre-made pies of pumpkin, mincemeat, blueberry and cherry, but apple MUST be made yourself. She has a recipe included for 'Grandma Bogart's Apple Pie' and it is a serviceable recipe. She also indicates that most households have their own recipe for apple pie that should be used.<br />
<br />
Soup<br />
Again, the author indicates that there are hundreds of recipes for soup, but indicates that the most delicious is Hardscrabble Soup, called by the Old Timers as 'Whatchagot Soup'. As the name implies, its ingredients include whatever can be found in the pantry or refrigerator and made by cleaning out the aforementioned. <br />
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These are the recipes found at the end of this book, and are ones mentioned throughout the narrative. Try them as you will, I would love to hear what you think of them. Often one reads a story and an item is mentioned and we say to ourselves 'I wonder what this would taste like'...With the books I intend to feature, we can. Next up: Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Crime.<br />
<br />Ginnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14287402498994673396noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4041501593810811003.post-29805359540249963002012-04-28T19:39:00.000-07:002012-04-28T19:39:56.562-07:00Thought I died dincha?Okay, I know, I've put this off again and again. Finally, I had a discussion with some wonderful ladies at a 'fan page' on Facebook for cookbooks (yeah, that's right, we're cookbook groupies, got a problem with it?)....There was some really deep stuff I put on in my blog and I really didn't know how to follow up after all of that. I disgorged my psyche on what I perceived as slights by my local congregation, and whether my perceptions were right (I still believe they are) or wrong, I needed to purge myself and walk away. Now, after a cooling off period of say, six month...like Jack Nicholson from one incarnation of the Shining.....I'm Baaaaack.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Now, back to my friends/fellow groupies. We discuss cookbooks. The need to have and obtain more of them, usually. I raised a topic of novels, short stories, biographies, etc. that don't fit the category of cookbook, but have recipes inserted in the either the story line, or in conjunction with the story at hand. I asked if anyone had 'collected' these recipes. I was told, like in the instance of Frances Mays 'Under the Tuscan Sun', she went back after writing a number of books and wrote a cookbook that included all the recipes earlier referenced, but that was the only one anyone could think of....then came the inevitable. The gauntlet was thrown down. Someone said...'Why don't YOU compile them in your blog? As long as you give proper reference, there should be no accusations of stealing them'....So, the more I thought about it, the more I mulled it over, the more I thought of my poor little blog, sitting here, devoid of my brain cheese (see the description of the blog) for the past six months, I said 'why the heck not!'....so here I am. But it wasn't so easy...it took me 3 hours, yep, 3 hours going back and forth with Google to even get back in...I know I have the user name, but the password was changed, did I write down...Noooooooooo, I'd remember it....NOT. So finally, here goes nothing.<br />
<br />
<br />
I am going to start with two books I have recently read. The first is 'The Hardscrabble Chronicles' written by Laurie Bogart Morrow. It pretty much is the trials and tribulations of a young married couple moving from 'the big city' to an inherited fixer-upper in a small New England town known as Hardscrabble. A good read in that it intersperses the writer's life in present time, with the life of another writer who also lived in Hardscrabble approximately 25 years earlier and what they had in common. At the end of the book, she included a few recipes in a chapter called 'From the Hardscrabble Cookery Book'. Here they are:<br />
<br />
<i>Carol Mayhofer's Calico Beans</i><br />
1/2 lb. bacon, cut in 1-2" pieces<br />
1 large onion, chopped coarse<br />
1/2 lb. hamburger<br />
1 can butter beans, drained<br />
1 can kidney beans (do not drain) - or, one cup of dry kidney beans, soaked overnight, and parboiled until soft but firm<br />
1 can pork and beans (do not drain)<br />
1 cup ketchup<br />
1 tsp. dry mustard<br />
2 tsp. vinegar<br />
1/2 cup white sugar<br />
1/2 cup brown sugar<br />
<br />
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. In a large skillet or 8-quart pot, saute bacon and onion until onion is translucent, then add hamburger. Brown lightly. Drain any excess fat. Add beans and stir with a wooden spoon. Set aside. In a bowl, combine ketchup, mustard, vinegar, and the sugars. Fold these with a wire wisk until the mixture is smooth. Add to the meat and beans. Pour in an oven proof casserole, and bake for 45 minutes. Delicious served with Boston brown bread warm from the oven and a crock of fresh herb butter.<br />
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<br />
<i>Sweet Potato Casserole</i> (this one has no measurements - so I will copy straight from the book, as it is written)
You can substitute winter squash for sweet potatoes in this deliciously simple recipe. However, squash has more water content than sweet potatoes, and you should drain and reserve the vegetable liquor to add, as needed, during the cooking process. This is an excellent accompaniment to pork dishes and is a special favorite at the Thanksgiving feast, on the sideboard alongside the turkey. This dish neither keeps nor freezes well, but it is so delicious that it's doubtful you'll have any left over. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Pare the sweet potatoes and cube. In a covered saucepan, boil the cubed potatoes in 2" of water plus one tablespoon of butter on high heat, being careful to turn the potatoes frequently so as they do not stick and burn to the bottom of the pot. Add water if necessary until the potatoes are fork tender. Remove from heat, and drain, reserving the excess liquor. Add butter, salt, and pepper to taste, a touch of nutmeg and cinnamon, and a little heavy cream (not whipping) cream until the mixture is smooth, being careful to add just enough so that the mixture is neither too watery or too firm. You may want to use a food processor so that the potatoes are velvety smooth. Pour into an ovenproof casserole. Top with seasoned breadcrumbs that you have tossed with a little melted butter and, on top of this, sift a thin layer of brown sugar. Bake until the casserole starts to bubble and lightly brown, about 20-30 minutes. If the casserole bubbles but does not brown, put under a broiler, watching very carefully that the bread crumbs do not burn. <br />
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Okay, what do you think so far? These are only two of the recipes in this book...I will continue it at another time (I completely wore myself out trying to figure out 'how' to get back on here). Let me know what you think. If you have a book you want me to include, let me know, and I'll try to do what I can.Ginnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14287402498994673396noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4041501593810811003.post-63340202784641541422011-10-24T09:46:00.000-07:002011-10-24T11:03:47.516-07:00The Drama ContinuesBack in June I posted about Divorce. Not of the marital type, but of a distancing yourself from something you held near and dear. I have been struggling for a while with my decision to stay away from the church we attended, I agonize over the fact that we should be in church on Sunday morning worshipping God. We disagree over 'where' we should attempt to attend, having visited a number of churches in this immediate area we have found that the 'political' atmosphere is almost the same and palpable....something I feel has no place in a house of worship. Maybe if I delineate my concerns, something will ring out, show me what should be done.....or maybe someone reading this will contact me and give me some form of idea just what is going on. I really wish I knew.<br /><br />Here are my 'grievances' with the church we attended. Some may seem petty, and I'll grant that, but when coupled with the others, it snowballs and make me uncomfortable to sit in the pew on Sunday knowing what I know, and what I'm expected to do, and somehow I can't quite wrap my head around how what they want is related to what Jesus wants me to do.<br /><br />Let's start with the obvious: Politics<br />1. A member of the denomination decided to run for county-wide political office. This person was employed by the denominational camp and at the main headquarters. Now this unto itself is not the problem, but what I have a problem with is that each 'visit' to different churches was used as a campaign stump and fundraising. He lived in denomination-owned property, was receiving a denominational paycheck which was funded from church coffers. If this person wanted to run for office, he should have been self-supporting, not having the monies I put in the plate on Sunday funding his political ambitions.<br />2. A member of the local congregation ran for a state office. No experience, but 'God told him'. The church newsletter 'encouraged' support and votes for him. The assistant pastor took him thru the polling place (a no-no if you're on the ticket and are not casting your vote)and had him shaking hands with those waiting for the voting booth. When questioned, the pastor in question said that 'he was member of the church and could go where he wanted in the building' Also this candidate was white, his opponent black. Comments made regarding this even tho the opponent was an experienced and learned man....this wasn't even touched on. <br />3. Sunday school classes are used to push a political agenda. Middle school and high school kids are told to question their parents if they aren't registered in 'God's Own Party'. The adult classes definitely lean towards 'you are out of the will of God if you don't vote for a particular party'. Also, extreme views of other parties taught, in that if I am a registered Democrat, don't let me around pregnant women as I will FORCE them to undergo abortions......when not all support it nor encourage it. Questioning this will get you 'rebuked'. Most kids are espousing political viewpoints and when asked 'why they believe this' they say 'Because God said so'. <br />4. A relative of one of the local congregation ran for local office. Facebook was used to drum up a write in candidacy for him. It was used to encourage non-registered voters to fudge information and write in a provisional vote. Also, it was encouraged that if you lived outside the voting district to 'use an address' of a congregant that DID live in the area affected, and again write in a provisional vote. It wasn't 'supported' by the church to do this, but the Facebook page was manned and updated by congregants and it wasn't 'dissuaded'. Isn't this voter fraud?<br /><br />Next Point: Feelings of Not Being Wanted/Only Needed for Certain Things<br />1. Do you ever feel that 'you' are not wanted, but your certifications are? I attened a Bible College for four years, my husband was a Boy Scout Chaplain for 20 years. In both our work and volunteer activities, we both had child abuse and federal abuse clearances done. We have been asked to be 'non-teachers' in classes, to be removed when others can be certified. Realize that some of these 'teachers' we have to be the 'designated clearance' for are middle school kids. Also, when we volunteered for something we knew we could do, we never got so much as a 'thanks, but no thanks.' We would, however, get calls at the last minute for grunt work....'we need the flower bed cleaned for tomorrow' 'can you paint a room' 'we need the kitchen cleaned' at the last minute. Gee, make us feel like the hired help and less than someone else. A sore spot also was seeing people 'come to Jesus, join the church and in less time than it takes to shake a stick, they are given positions of authority. Not saying these people may not have special gifts, but it made being passed over more evident. <br /><br />Next Point: I make a point of referencing the choir, but I know it is endemic in other areas as well, but an undercurrent of disjunction or power-plays, etc. <br />1. When I participated in the choir we had a leader who had the voice of an angel, she sang from her heart and she genuinely cared for you and the music she wanted you to sing. She was a consumate professional who taught music. Unfortunately for us, God decided the heavenly choir needed her more and took her home way too soon for us. I think the beginning of the end of my love for this church came with her memorial.....in this predominately white church the comment was made at the end of the memorial 'well at least we won't have to sing anymore n*gger music anymore'. Our director was an African American woman who didn't look at your color but at the heart...the comment was made by an elder in the church. HOW.....COULD....HE. This broke my heart. <br />2. Everything suggested by the next director was questioned, from the type of music to why we had to stand up and sing. Machinations about 'who should do this' and 'I could do it better' was made. None stepped up when the position was open, but tried everything in their power to undercut the leader. Decimated one, stressing her to a breaking point. When I left, the same was attempted to be done to the next.<br /><br />These were the most prevalent...here are a numerical listing of other issues I ran into:<br />1. Young men's Bible Study led by very, very ultra-conservative men. Main emphasis seems to be anti-homosexual. Prayed for the family of an overdose and went to great pains over 'how it could happen, and what a great guy he had been' but when a 13 year old killed himself after being labelled 'gay' and bullied, it was remarked, 'good, one less of THEM to deal with'. James Dobson's take on homosexuality as being deserving of capital punishment is an 'okay' theme in these meetings.<br />2. Fundraising. When a youth group or number of kids want to do something and raise funds to do it, it is said that 'we can't ask the community to support church activities'. That's fine if it's equally handled. When a wife of a church official wanted to do the same thing, not only was it 'okay' but the congregation, including those who were told no in the past were expected to hop on the bandwagon. <br />3. Participation in outside activities discouraged. Boy Scouts, Girl Scouts, 4-H, etc. Told that energies should be directed toward the church only.<br />4. Prayer List. The church has a running prayer list. Call or email to have people listed for prayer. I contacted them with a request for the daughter of a dear friend's neighbor. I had known of this girl for a number of years and knew of her struggle with cancer. I had personally asked for prayer for her on numerous occassions in the past in group settings. When the end was near, I asked for prayer for her to have a peaceful 'homegoing'. I get a terse note from an assistant pastor telling me that 'we pray for our own'. Now this is the same person who will put out an email asking for prayer for his neighbor's son's co-worker's kid's classmate's uncle's co-worker's ex-wife's ingrown toenail. What gives? Shouldn't we lift ALL who ask for prayer up to the throne of God?<br />5. We have not darkened that doorway on Sunday morning since the Novemeber elections that put our current president in office. Has anyone called asking 'hey, what's up?' 'How are you?' But I can get emails and calls telling so and so is sick and needs a meal (I was on the hospitality/shut in list) but no one even bothered to ask how we were, were we sick, injured, etc. The last straw for me was January 2011. FBD is Type 1 Diabetic, and she had a really bad incident. To say really bad is an understatement...she spent 4 days in ICU and could have died....I got a call to feed a family of four whose dad had just had 'outpatient surgery' on his foot. Gee, mom and the two teenaged kids were JUST FINE, but I needed to cook for them, let's see, I'll fit it in that two hours I left the hospital to shower. My daughter is judged because she goes to a Catholic college (more on that later) but it was a Friar and members of her college who came and prayed for her...the church she grew up in didn't want to know from her.<br />6. Mission Trips: Labelled as service projects, but the service is often lacking, due to people wandering off to 'evangelize'. Evangelization is good, but if you don't follow thru with what you promised to do, how effective is the message you try to deliver. Also, the trips seem 'racially' charged....do we really want to help 'those people' in Haiti and NOLA? Need is need, people! Also, it seems that more and more people who go on missions trips come back complaining how 'un-american' the people were....well, duh, we are supposed to bring the message of Christ, not how to be American. <br />7. Last but not least, we were told basically 'we were the only ones who saw these things as a problem'. I know of others who left this church as well, only one who I spoke to. This person voiced similar concerns. <br /><br />What do you think people? Am I over-reacting? Is this something I should overlook and return to fellowshipping here? Should I shake off the doldrums and actively look for other venues of worship? How far would you travel for fellowship? Inquiring minds ya know.<br /><br />There are other issues with this church that stem around my eldest daughter that poisoned my views. They are too intense and personal to go into at this time, realize that the hospital incident is only the tip of the iceberg. Seriously, though, input is welcome.Ginnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14287402498994673396noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4041501593810811003.post-46112297538788087082011-06-02T08:40:00.000-07:002011-06-02T08:49:54.296-07:00DivorceDivorce. It's an ugly word and before anyone gets the wrong idea, I am NOT talking about my marriage. Divorce is a separation, a permanent separation between oneself and another entity, whether it be a person or an organization. In my case, it's an organization....what makes it even harder, is this organization is a church. It's something that has been brewing since before the last major November election and something happened that pushed us over the edge. <br /><br />I've mulled *how* to explain what is going on, or should I even explain it, is a blog where I should? Should I keep it in and speak not of what happened and just move on, or do I speak up, vent my feelings and let the chips fall where they may? What would be the consequences of either action? <br /><br />I have been involved in churches where there have been divisions and factions that have split the church, but in those instances, the lines were drawn by others and it was simply 'who's side are you on'. In this case, it took a lot of time, consideration and study to be the line draw-er. I want to write more, but at this time, I'm stymied. I know what went on, went down, etc. but I don't know if blogging it would be cathartic or inflammatory. Pray for me my friends.Ginnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14287402498994673396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4041501593810811003.post-55454463011449545522011-05-08T15:38:00.000-07:002011-05-08T15:39:26.608-07:00Happy Mother's DayHappy Mother's Day to my school friends. It seems like yesterday that we were worrying about scraping together our pennies to buy our mother's some little trinket to show her we loved her. It was never much, but she fussed and preened over it like it was gold. There were days when we were in high school when we 'just couldn't stand THAT woman messing around in our life' but when it came to Mother's Day, we still worried about getting 'the right thing'...we 'tried' to cook for her....and just like when we were little, there was much fuss made for our little effort. <br /><br /><br /><br />Happy Mother's Day to my college friends. Most Mother's Days past, we were worrying about our final exams, where we would be working for the summer, what our boy/girlfriends would be doing without us, could we keep in touch, and probably didn't put much thought into mother's day. We sent a card, we called, and even tho she sounded older, maybe tired-er, there was still a fuss made over our efforts.<br /><br /><br /><br />Happy Mother's Day to my online friends, most all of them from random cooking groups and blogs. Unfortunately, a lot of us talk about 'Memory Food'....or things we would make our Mamas if they were still with us. <br /><br /><br /><br />Now, most of us have passed thru the 'Mama' stage and moved on to the Grandmama stage. All my little friends from school/high school are making the fuss and preening over little trinkets brought to us by snotty nosed munchkins with dirty hands that are not ours, but our children's babies. The circle of life continues.<br /><br /><br /><br />To all of you, who may or may not have your mama near to still hear her voice, to those whose mama is in heaven, and to those who may be Mama to a one or many, to those who don't have any babies of their own but love deeply those who belong to friendsand relatives, I wish YOU a blessed and wonderful Mother's Day. Being a mother changes you, but the love doesn't necessarily come from 'giving birth'....it happens in the heart the first time it melts when you are handed a bundle of wiggles and giggles no matter who gave birth to them. Sometimes it doesn't kick in until you are handed the baby of your baby and you wonder why it took you so long. To ALL of you....have a happy mother's day. <br /><br />God loves you and so do I. And just think, Jesus was once that grubby little toddler who handed Mary that 'flower' with the roots still hanging. I think she smiled.Ginnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14287402498994673396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4041501593810811003.post-83351231231987770152010-10-21T08:03:00.000-07:002010-10-21T08:06:49.527-07:00The PantryWhen we first moved in here 14 years ago, the original owners had a washer/dryer in the little folding door closet in the kitchen. We put our washer/dryer in the store room downstairs (next to the plumbing) and Sweetcheeks put shelves in the closet and VOILA...my pantry was born. <br /><br />In the years that passed, my pantry has taken a life of it's own. Occassionally I have to beat it back into submission and realign the shelves. As of yesterday, since I was recovering from bronchitis, I decided to tackle it. Guess what? I have a floor in it...The dining room table, however, is bowing under the weight of what I pulled out.....<br /><br />Pray for me...I go back in and restock today....pictures may follow (if it doesn't eat me!)Ginnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14287402498994673396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4041501593810811003.post-906764504306872512010-10-18T09:56:00.000-07:002010-10-18T10:27:48.116-07:00WOW<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKvHpN9lIB42zo4Ms0_aTtWFzC9rfCVoAxJ8YOdGDddn8QyA_EmIcJqpUD08rvDK4rMkMeApoKXVaC0TEs0zifv-Ing5YZ98l8s7DeL8zBKRjKXPl_tvwRYSTXHcpYrjtubmImEGbybSZH/s1600/DSC01897.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKvHpN9lIB42zo4Ms0_aTtWFzC9rfCVoAxJ8YOdGDddn8QyA_EmIcJqpUD08rvDK4rMkMeApoKXVaC0TEs0zifv-Ing5YZ98l8s7DeL8zBKRjKXPl_tvwRYSTXHcpYrjtubmImEGbybSZH/s320/DSC01897.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529432067865840066" /></a><br />I last posted in April and said I would return. It's October. I think it's about time, don't you? <br /><br />Life, ya never know what is going to be handed to you. Due to the wonders for Facebook, I have found friends and relatives I had relegated to the cobwebs of distant memories. I have been able to reconnect with my cousins, and with college friends and this connection is the reason I post today.<br /><br />I am a blog reader. Maybe not so good blog poster, but I do read them...incessantly. I have been reading a blog about the Duggars in Arkansas and most comments made are negative about them. Not that I am advocating moving to the Ozarks and giving birth to village of my own, but I honestly don't see the big deal about it. The problem that I see is that most people look at the Duggars as an oddity. On the other hand, I know these people.....not the Duggars directly, but people like them. <br /><br />I think of my father's younger sister, Flora. Flora Ussery, in my estimation was a cross between a saint and a pistol! She and my uncle, her husband Bill, gave birth to 10 children of their own, and according to the write up I have after her funeral, they chose to open their home to a minimum of 12 - 15 foster children. There was never a time that I can remember, that her home was not filled with her children, her fosters, her nieces and nephews and the kids of the men Uncle Bill employed (I think my aunt had to stop and think sometimes if the Douglas kids really were hers or not!) She fed, clothed and raised this gaggle of kids and made sure they lined the pew on Sunday mornings. She wasn't 'only' a housewife...she did what needed done at church as well. When her kids were grown, she went back to work in the kitchen of a local elementary school. When she *retired* she worked part-time substitute teaching.....I guess once a cat herder, always a cat herder. <br /><br />I have recently reconnected with a friend from college, Rudy Sheptock. Rudy's parents were not unlike my aunt and uncle. If I remember correctly, his parents had a similar number of offspring like my aunt and uncle, and they too took in and adopted children with disabilities and who had no one or no where else to go in the foster system. All this, and they, too, lined the pew on Sunday mornings. <br /><br />I think of these families and look at the Duggars. They all are fed, clothed and loved. Their religious beliefs may be a bit more conservate than ours, but who are we to judge. All my cousins are decent human beings and every one who came under the tutelage of my aunt can only speak of how important she made each of them feel...I email with Rudy and hear the respect and love he still espouses for his parents, and from seeing his interactions on Facebook with others who knew his parents, I can only hear echos of what my cousins say about my aunt and uncle. People disparage the Duggars, but the children show love and respect for their parents and each other, but is this so bad? Of the two families I referenced today, all had in excess of 20+ children in their homes and they turned out alright. What we should ask, instead of what the Duggars are doing wrong, what are they doing right. Sometimes a little faith, discipline and respect for others is all it takes.Ginnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14287402498994673396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4041501593810811003.post-38793160028034078912010-04-26T08:49:00.000-07:002010-04-26T08:56:41.513-07:00Guess Who's BackI start this thing with the best intentions then I get sidetracked and swear I'll be back shortly, then shortly becomes days, days become months.....what more can I say!<br /><br />A lot has happened since January and Mildred's funeral. I have cooked, avoided cleaning, done thousands of loads of laundry and basically had a normal existence. Did find a 'new' recipe for a marinade, that now I'm putting everything in, that I will share with you. Then I will melt back into the woodwork for a little bit while I formulate my latest oozings of brain cheese for your consumption. There are many, many, many things that I wish to share, but I need to figure out how without either embarassing or totally ticking off certain people. Some, who cares if they get upset, others I do care....so, until I can phrase my thoughts 'gracefully and with tact', I will leave you with this:<br /><br />1/2 cup olive oil<br />1/3 cup balsamic vinegar<br />1/4 cup of Montreal Steak Seasoning.<br /><br />Mix all together and put your choice of meat (pork, beef, chicken) and let marinade for a minimum of at least an hour. For roasts, cook as usual, for grilling meats, grill as usual. Eat!<br /><br />Enjoy.<br />-gGinnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14287402498994673396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4041501593810811003.post-91243989424185034362010-01-27T12:40:00.000-08:002010-01-27T12:59:31.480-08:00A Sad, but Happy GoodbyeToday was Mildred's funeral. How does one say 'goodbye' to someone who has been 'there' for so many for 87 years. I say 87 because that's how long it was told today, that Mildred was a member of the church she was buried in. She was literally a womb to tomb woman when it came to her loyalty and love and devotion. As a baby, she was brought to service in the 'church' that was long ago out grown, she was baptized a member at age 8 and lived to serve for the next 87 in the newer building that took root next to that little white church of her youth. What an example she set of care and devotion of those around her. She lived in the house she was born in, worked at the bank less than 100 yards from her back door for 50 years and worshipped the way worship ought to be for the whole of her life. Mildred decided, once she 'retired' that she would devote herself to missions....how many other people do you know can claim over 20 missions trips AFTER they turn 62?<br /><br />Like the detail oriented person she was, her funeral was carried out according to 'her' plan. Five pages of plan, according to one of the ministers officiating. From her favorite verses to her favorite hymns to who should do what and how, Mildred left nothing to anyone else, so she wouldn't 'be a bother'....when the service started to wax eloquent about her, we were reminded that the service should be about the Lord she served, not her. In fact, one of the ministers stated from the pulpit he could feel her pulling on his coat tail telling him 'that's enough, you can sit down and be quiet now'. So to take that lead, I'll end here about the service. I will however, go on about the luncheon.<br /><br />After saying our goodbyes in the cemetary, we returned to the fellowship hall to have a luncheon of deli meats, potato salads, veggie platters and the ever-present jello salad/molds/etc. There was also a dessert table, covered, in Mildred's honor, all sorts of chocolatey goodness. I made the bonbons (again, Thank YOU, Barb)and they were all snarfed up, which is a good thing, I think. We laughed and talked and had a good time, mostly warmed this cold winter day by memories of a life fulfilled and a grateful people who thanked the Almighty for the privilege of having known this lovely, lovely lady.<br /><br />I know I promised photos, but other things arose and I forgot the camera. The spread was the usual funeral luncheon, nothing spectacular about it. What was spectacular was the person it was held for.Ginnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14287402498994673396noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4041501593810811003.post-90765754988778531692010-01-23T14:35:00.001-08:002010-01-23T15:11:09.908-08:00My Mother's BirthdayMy mother would have been 81 this week. Marion Louis(e) Erdman was born January 19, 1929 in Philadelphia to George James and Emma Mary (Esthimer) Erdman. She was born at home in the Kensington section. A step up, she was told, from her parents' beginnings in Fishtown. She always told me her middle name was Louis (loo-is) as it was spelled that way on her handwritten birth certificate. I came to find out that her name was to be Louise (loo-eeez)but it was misspelled. Just another quirk of fate, as she was prone to say. My mother was typical of a blue collar family. She dropped out of school to help with finances when she was a teenager, spending 20 years as a seamstress in what was then Webb's Curtain Company, 4th and Cambria Streets (now the heart of the Badlands) in Philly. Even when she got adventurous she was subject to fate. She and my aunt, her best friend and my namesake, decided to take a road trip to Florida. Her car broke down in North Carolina. While waiting for it to be repaired and them to return to Pennsylvania, she met my father (but that is another story for another posting), she returned to NC, married my father, and the rest is, as they say, history. <br /><br />My mother worked off and on while I was growing up in NC as a seamstress, babysitter, and her final job, the one she spent the last 18 years before her retirement, as the lunch lady. She loved this job. Never much of a cook, she stirred, mixed, baked and served 500 kids lunch on a daily basis. During her summers off, she made afghans, sweaters, mittens, doilies and all sorts of other items for her co-workers and their families. <br /><br />She wasn't a fancy person. She was, however, aware of how 'fate' can deal you an unfair hand, but it was up to you how you played it. She never spoke of dreams of what she wanted to be when she was younger, she always stayed in the here and now. A lot of what I took, at the time, for being cold and hard-hearted, I see that now she was only trying to teach me that sometimes dreams are just that. Don't have caviar tastes when all you can afford is hamburger. I think she tried to dampen my enthusiasm to keep me from failing at something I couldn't acheive. Was she right? I don't know. All I know is that she tried her best and now that she is no longer with us, I miss her. She passed away from uterine cancer July 29, 2001. <br /><br />My mother and my father's sister developed a close relationship after they were both widowed and retired. They shopped and took 'day trips' and generally 'hung out'. They were in an accident in 1995 that killed my aunt. Since the accident took place in my mother's driveway, she emotionally could not stay there, so she came to me to recouperate. This is when we indoctrinated her in our family's birthday tradition. On your birthday, you get whatever you want to eat, no matter how elaborate. Her option: meatloaf, mashed potatoes and peas. <br /><br />So, this year, on the 81st anniversary of my mother's birth, almost nine years after she passed, we are going to celebrate her life. Tuesday, the actual date, was busy here, so with her permission, we set aside the celebration until the weekend (we do that sometimes for birthday do's if the birthday falls in the middle of the week). So tonight, we are celebrating my mother's life. Happy Birthday, Mama Mac! We miss you and will have only happy thoughts about you while we have meatloaf, mashed potatoes and peas.Ginnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14287402498994673396noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4041501593810811003.post-67599662612277729662010-01-22T07:49:00.000-08:002010-01-22T08:34:09.399-08:00MildredBack in the summer, I discussed Prayer in the Park (PIP), an annual function the church we attend, holds during the warmer months. Instead of 'Wednesday Night Prayer Meeting' the regular attenders, and more than a few stragglers, show up at the local park with covered dishes. There is a pot luck dinner and a speaker afterwards. I posted recipes, took pictures of the food and generally babbled on about what happens there and the fact I tried to make something new and different each time. I also posted about Mildred at that time. Mildred was an anchor and mainstay in this church. No one didn't know Mildred or hadn't interacted with her. In her 90's, Mildred still had her fingers in many, many pies around the church. Some people would describe Mildred as an 'old maid' or 'maiden auntie', but she never fit any title that sounded like that. Mildred, to put it mildly was a dynamo, one that couldn't be stopped. Or could she.<br /><br />A couple of years ago, she was diagnosed with a heart disorder. Surgery could have fixed it, but it was risky enough that it could have killed her. She opted to not have the surgery and let God do what God knows best. This was almost three years ago. As the Summer of 2009 came, Mildred was showing the effects of this condition. She was fairly much house bound, but her door never hit the jamb from someone leaving before someone else came in. Pastors and laity came to minister to her but each left feeling uplifted and better than when they came in. It was Mildred who ministered to each of us, she hugged us, prayed for us and asked if she could pray for our 'troubles'...no comment on herown. I was fortunate enough to be 'responsible' for 'feeding Mildred' on PIP nights. The church has a service ministry that provides meals on an as needed basis to the sick and Mildred was on the list to receive a meal on Wednesday nights. Since she ate like a bird, I decided to make her, instead of the usual platter we sent from PIP to othr shut-ins, Dixie Cup Dinners. I took about eight hot cups and put a little bit of this in one, and a little bit of something else in another. She warmed my heart by telling me how much she liked my 'little surprise packages' Her only request: chocolate, and the more the better. Yes, our sainted little Mildred had a vice, and I found it....CHOCOLATE!<br /><br />This past Monday, January 18th, at 2:45 p.m., Mildred fulfilled her journey in this mortal existence. Mildred is with the angels now. We want to cry for our sadness, but we should rejoice that Mildred is now where she has worked and prayed and wished for for a long time. I believe Jesus, the One she served so many, many years, personally met her at the gate, took her hand, one that wasn't lined or shaky, tucked it under His arm and showed her around. She was so happy to see her family who went before her, she was shown the choir loft where our friend Donna is leaning over Bach's shoulder, making sure she got the note right, she waved and told Amy Taylor how glad she was to meet her as she prayed for her during her illness. She got to hold baby Rachel, who came to heaven just a few days before her, then she got fitted for her long white robes and shown her place in the celestial sphere where she can now only begin to really worship God the way she has wanted to.<br /><br />Mildred had no children, no close relatives. She did, however, leave behind a lot of people who were privileged to have known her, to have experienced her ministrations and know the feeling of having her pray for them. Her funeral is to be Wednesday, at the church she grew up in and served. I don't think there will be an open spot in the pews. Afterwards, there will be a luncheon in her honor. I have been asked to help prepare an item for this luncheon. This is where Mildred's vice comes in (I can hear her giggling in heaven over me calling this a vice). My dear friend, Barb, posted a recipe on her blog The Tattooed Lady about Oreo BonBons. I made them once and Barb is right, these things are so rich and so chocolatey that to eat more than two would set your teeth on edge and put you into a chocolate coma. In other words, Mildred would have LOVED these things. So, for Mildred, with thanks to Barb (since I'm swiping her recipe here)....here are the Oreo Bonbons:<br /><br />Oreo Bonbons<br /><br />1 1 lb. package of oreos (you can use regular, mint or I have used peanut butter)<br />1 8 oz. package of cream cheese<br />1 12 oz. package of chocolate melts (candy wafers to melt to make chocolate molds)<br /><br />Whirl oreos in food processor until they are a fine crumbled mess. Add cream cheese (which should be at room temp, easier to mix in) and continue to whirl until it looks like swamp mud in your food processor. Make walnut (or smaller) sized balls from this mixture and place on a cookie sheet. Chill for at least an hour to set up. When balls are chilled, melt the chocolate. Dip each ball in the melted chocolate and return to chill until chocolate is set. <br /><br />I will take pics at the luncheon and post later. I am having trouble writing luncheon instead of what we usually refer to as a 'Dead Spread'....somehow I can see Mildred laughing, because we once talked about being happy at funerals and some of the ways we can make light and lift spirits, she thought Dead Spread was a funny way to say it instead of 'hanging your head, speaking in low, deep tones, and say "funeral luncheon"..... Mildred, honey, these are for your Dead Spread....Love ya!!!<br /><br /><a href="http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/mcall/obituary.aspx?n=mildred-a-musselman&pid=138752560"></a>Ginnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14287402498994673396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4041501593810811003.post-84533819448598540292010-01-18T06:39:00.000-08:002010-01-27T22:11:46.734-08:00Maybe It's about time I posted again.It's been since November and all I have done is procrastinated about getting back on the blog-o-wheel and posting my innane thoughts. We have passed Thanksgiving, my middle two kids birthdays, Christmas Eve, Christmas, New Years, Epiphany and now we're into the middle of January and I HAVEN'T posted squat.
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<br />So in recap: Thanksgiving.....Hubby got a turkey fryer from his work (using somesort of point system...earn points for hours worked buy goodies with the points). We did the usual sides of green bean casserole (yes, the one with the mushrooms, mushroom soup and fried onions - hey I know some of you cringe and roll your eyes at canned soups, but if the masses clamor for it, who am I to tell them no), 'stuffing' -I should resort to calling it dressing, as it never gets stuffed into ANYTHING but the people around the table, mashed potatoes, gravy, devilled eggs, and this year, instead of the usual yogurt pie, I made a pumpkin dish. Eldest son's SO is enamoured of pumpkin, so we feed this to her to keep her sweet and the grandbabies coming around......Needless to say, the fried turkey is a definite do-over. It came out tender, succulent and oh-so-good. Only thing left was the carcass. We used no injectables or brines/marinades or the like, simply because we wanted to see how that sucker worked first. It did, so we might. I have pictures of the process, but since I am camera/computer illiterate when it comes to putting pictures on my blog, I'll have to wait until my youngest son finds them and shows me how to post them....until then.... </div> (found and added 1/28/10)
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<br />Next came the birthdays. Eldest daughter and youngest son have the same birthday, December 1st. We took FBD (first born daughter to the uninitated as to how I refer to my offspring) back to college (Cabrini ! Go Cavaliers) and stopped by the most wonderful diner in all of Wayne, PA for a birthday dinner for the two of them....it was to be easy for me, no fighting over who 'got the birthday dinner on their birthday' this year and they each got to pick what they wanted. WRONG. To say we were all carrying a bit of bug in our systems was an understatement. YD (younger daughter) wouldn't eat at all and I looked at my dinner and felt green. We took her back to her dorm and beat feet for home, praying not to leave a perfectly good dinner on the side of the Pennsylvania turnpike....we were ALL sick the next week and it took another week for us not to look like carp washed up on the shore (yes, I said CARP, not crap - ya ever see a dead carp, not pretty).
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<br />December was unusual in that my father in law went in to the hospital for simple out patient procedure and while doing the pre-admit testing, they found a disintegrating heart valve. Quicker than spit, they had him on the operating room table and were filleting him to remove all the bad and replace it....he was in the hospital over the holidays and then had rehab, so we had a bit more running than usual to attend to (we live about an hour from the hospital he was in). Usually, for Christmas, we give him a gift card to his favorite grocery store....I know, it sounds inpersonal, but what do you get a 79 year old man who quite literally has everything he wants? - This year, I planned to do something different, and it did work out. Once before, when he was really sick, I made a number of platters up for him to pop in his freezer. This way, instead of cooking for himself when he felt better, he could just pop one in the microwave and have a full-course dinner. I planned to make up about two-weeks worth of dinners (the equivalent of what we would have spent on the gift card) and let him use them at his leisure, when he just didn't feel like cooking. His being hospitalized over the holidays made this an imperative for me this time. While he was in the hospital, I made an extra plate of whatever we were having and froze it. We had lasagna, kielbasa with sauerkraut (there's that kraut I made earlier), jambalaya, beef stroganoff, spaghetti, chicken soup, about 14 -15 selections in all....and his favorite...stuffed cabbage. These were delivered to him a couple days after he was released from rehab so at least I know he's getting his nutrition in him.
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<br />Christmas Eve started out like always. Some people tell you they are coming and don't, some want to know if they can at the last minute, some want you to change the times.....I'm seriously considering cancelling Christmas next year. Yeah, I said that last year as well.....I made my fish dinner as usual. Homemade mushroom soup, salmon, tilapia, a few sides and 'fish sticks' for the grandbabies. Eldest grandson ate his fish sticks in the pudding I made (yes, fish sticks in vanilla pudding fluff)...hey, as far as I'm concerned...he ate and that's what's important. The extendeds were here, eldest son, his SO, his ex, and ALL four of my grandbabies. The 'almost two' decided this was the year to 'climb the tree'.....to look at him you wouldn't think he was part squirrel. They came, they ripped open their presents and they ate... I'm Southern by birth....we feed you. You're sick, we feed you, you celebrate, we feed you....you die, well, we feed your family....so I fed my family.
<br />Here's the grandbabies: The Lovely Lucas, Bouncing Brennan, Curiously Cute Christian and Mighty Matt.
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<br />Christmas day was ham, kielbasa, potatoes , beans, devilled eggs for the immediate family...the out-laws all came on Christmas Eve...I got (ta-da) a few more cookbooks I have to try....
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<br />So, to my blogger followers who I have disappointed with my lack of postings, this is my New Year's resolution. I will try, cross my heart and hope to die, stick a finger in my eye, to post more than once every three months. I will tell you about my misadventures with food....I will tell you if Sweetcheeks likes it, if he doesn't or if I don't care one way or the other about what he wants for dinner.....I will tell you about my inexhaustible search for the ultimate cookbook, my cookbook collection and my adventures in trying to climb out from under the piles upon piles of cookbooks I already own and my rationale for buying/trading/inheriting/swapping more.
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<br />'til the Butter flys....
<br />-ginny</div></div></div></div>
<br />Ginnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14287402498994673396noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4041501593810811003.post-58817364383217132412009-11-08T14:01:00.000-08:002009-11-08T14:08:03.477-08:00Sauerkraut!!!!I finally checked it yesterday. I put it up on 9/22, not to be opened until 10/22. I was <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">a'feared</span> of what I'd find, so I left it 'stewing in it's own juices' so to speak. I finally opened it yesterday, 11/7. Guess what? It didn't rot, it didn't smell overtly obnoxious (kraut does and is supposed to smell obnoxious, but this wasn't overtly so). Should I? I stuck my clean fingers into it....it didn't dissolve my digits, so I pick up a few strands....sniff, sniff.....doesn't smell rotten.....look at it. Look at it again, sniff it again....finally, strand to lip, tongue it, pull it in.....it TASTES like <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">sauerkraut</span>!!!!!! Yeah!!!!!<br /><br />I then sterilize some quart jars and two pint jars and stuff the kraut into them. Seal with ball lids/rings and into the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">BWB</span> for 20 minutes. Now they sit, like silent soldiers, on my counter telling me....you did this. But, and the big but is this.....from two massive heads of cabbage and a month and a half of waiting, I acquire only four quarts and one pint of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">sauerkraut</span>. Was it worth it? I'll let you know.Ginnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14287402498994673396noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4041501593810811003.post-58853059411694888162009-11-03T07:13:00.000-08:002009-11-03T07:57:52.278-08:00Since last Postings......<div>Well, let's begin in October. A lot was going on, so not too many posts were made. To say there was a major upheaval in our little corner of the world is an understatement. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Most of you are aware of my ongoing battle with Southern Lehigh School District and the way my children are perceived. Southern Lehigh, as it was just described in the Marketplace magazine sent out in this area, is an 'upscale, exclusive region with houses in $1-4 million price frame'......duh, when we first moved here in '96 it was still fairly rural and median income......now, although I doubt that most of the housing is in the price range they quoted, more and more developments with huge houses with garages that back into their neighbors' garage door are popping up all over and are populated by doctors, lawyers and Indian chiefs....if your kid gets picked on in school and you go to the principal you are met with 'I can't punish that child, do you know who their mom/dad/stepparent is?' Or a school trip is a cruise? Come on people.........for getting out of the eighth grade do you deserve a dinner/dance/cruise that lasts all night on the Hudson River line? </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>My husband was a blue collar skilled laborer, mechanical maintenance, until he really tore up his arms. He was on disability for over three years, between having corrective surgery and being retrained (you can teach an old dog new tricks......he graduated college after being out of school for over 30 years in 2005!). Although I went to college, with four kids, we had decided that I would stay home to raise them. When he was hurt, I went back to work....nothing spectacular, but I ended up mid-level management at Walmart...not pretty, but we ate. He is now an Occupational Therapist and I am back to being mom, but in this location, we are still looked down on as the 'hep'.....why waste your time on the kids when you can get an au pair and you can get your nails done....we are the oddity. This also grates on the school, because if something isn't right, guess who shows up? Here's a clue - 'it ain't the au pair'. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>My youngest son is now enrolled in a cyber school. It took the whole month of October to pry, wheedle and finally threaten to sue Southern Lehigh to release his records. They didn't want HIM, but they didn't want us to make the decision to change schools. He is happier than he has been in a long time. Things are looking up for him......the instructors here judge him on his work, his personality and his heart......not the type of house he lives in, how much $$$$$ mom and dad make or how much bling he wears to school. He is starting to drive and is turning into a decent young man, which is all you can really ask for. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>His older sister just made Honor Society at college. She has made Deans List ever semester she has been enrolled. Not bad for a child, now young woman, who was told by said school district to not apply for college since being Type 1 diabetic, she was going to die soon anyway, so why take a college slot a more deserving 'healthy' student needed. Moma went off the rails.....the lovely guidance counsellor who told her this told me, and I quote: "I'm not dumb enough to put that in writing, but she IS taking a healthy child's spot. So go ahead and report it, I'll deny it and where will we be? hmmm?'....I have never wanted to meet someone in a dark alley with a club as I did that woman. But, I am seeing the old adage come to pass....'Success is best revenge'.....She is doing wonderful. He is doing wonderful.....Southern Lehigh was wrong. Now to attempt to get my youngest in one of the Charter schools and good ol' SL can kiss my saggy white......well, you know where this is going.</div><br /><div></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgejLoqQnSeGsum3jDzV7mgmaE8jxBDAc1SfVRTxI7Y77HCBfuzE-_tafUe75WFPRmueJDYw793MYT_VJzLMW_V23-gXPZIocWay3AJkiOxLGOtILowTOjkBxi4numKyN-ysT72uFqZZcHS/s1600-h/DSC00697.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399903711859495090" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgejLoqQnSeGsum3jDzV7mgmaE8jxBDAc1SfVRTxI7Y77HCBfuzE-_tafUe75WFPRmueJDYw793MYT_VJzLMW_V23-gXPZIocWay3AJkiOxLGOtILowTOjkBxi4numKyN-ysT72uFqZZcHS/s320/DSC00697.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>In the midst of all of this, my eldest son's girlfriend gave birth to their second, his third, little boy. Brennan John was born on the 13th, full of personality, as you can tell by his winking at the camera when he was two days old. He's a dumpling, not nearly as big as his big brother Lucas was, but he's a keeper. It's been hard not seeing him, but October has been the month of the 'sickness', so we have kept our distance. We all at one time or another have been diagnosed with sinusitis, ear infections, the common cold, etc. that we DON'T want to share with the baby. Fortunately, we have been spared the Piggy Sniffles, as Jamie likes to call it. </div><br /><br />We are finally coming out from under it all. November is the month of the All Souls Novena......we remember those we lost and celebrate those who we still have. We thank God that He is good all the time. He brought us to October and He brought us thru it. As a parting shot, October bombed my washing machine....it gave up the ghost (should I add it to the Novena? -wink,wink). It owed us nothing as we only had it 13 years, but we could do without having to outlay another $500 on top of paying $500 to get one car ready for winter and inspected, and $500 to fix yet another car because it started to slowly fall apart on us....nothing like $1500 of unforseen expenses with the holidays coming up....BUT, as I said, God is Good...All the time....ALL the time God is Good. Cars, washers and the like are inanimate objects, not worth losing sleep over as they can be replaced.<br /><br />Now, November calls. I have drapes to hang, a house to clean for the holidays and finally that damnable sauerkraut to get out of the bucket? Any takers for some?Ginnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14287402498994673396noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4041501593810811003.post-26274357393754489602009-10-25T09:24:00.000-07:002009-10-25T09:25:30.270-07:00Quote of the DayI got this on my ArcaMax recipe newsletter today. I like it.<br /><br />"Intellectual men who quickly wolf down whatever nourishment is necessary for their bodies with a kind of disdain, may be very rational and have a noble intelligence, but they are not men of taste."Sainte-Beuve, Charles Augustin (1804-1869) French historianGinnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14287402498994673396noreply@blogger.com0