Some one came, and kissed me there.
Frosty Moon
Melted Snow Flakes
Half full, half empty...either way, the beauty's still there
Did you always tell me about Santa so I would be a good doggy?
When have you been a good doggy?
You're so funny, sweet mommy! I work hard to stay the model dog you raised me to be.
Hmmmmm... clearly there's somewhat of a disconnection somewhere in your noggin with the interpretation of model dog.
A whatsit wheresit?
We have a difference of opinion, my little pain in the patootie. Anyway, I haven't mentioned Santa for years.
I know, mommy. Did he go to heaven?
WHAT!?! No! He's still at the North Pole taking a vacation.
How many Christmases' do I have to wait before he ends his vacation?
What do you mean? He ends his vacation the beginning of every winter.
Then what does he do that causes him to forget me every Christmas?
He reads, but he doesn't forget you every Christmas.
I thought you said he makes toys... he doesn't make toys?
Uh... he moved to a supervisory position and reads all the letters received from his believers, and makes sure the elves create all the toys the letters of the good ones ask from him.
Then you're saying I'm one of the bad ones? That I'll never ever get a Christmas present ever from Santa ever and forever more?
No... are you sure you mailed your letters in time to arrive before Christmas?
Mailed? Silly mommy! The magic wind carries them off to the North Pole every year.
Oh, silly me. Well, then I'm sure they were delivered.
Well then, I'm sure Santa doesn't love dogs.
Of course, he does!
Of course, he doesn't!
Yes, he does!
No, he doesn't!
He does!
He doesn't!
He does!
He doesn't!
:( Good grief... Clearly your letters are being diverted to the land of hobgoblins by Jack Frost, causing Santa to never receive them. I'll have your letter delivered Priority Mail Express as soon as you write it and that mean Mr. Frost won't make your Christmas sad anymore.
Yip! Yip!! Yip!!! You're the bestest mommy ever!
*******************************************************
Mommy spent a small fortune on Christmas that year, as Santa really did love her dog more than any other on his list.
I've become a connoisseur of one pan dishes, and Vic is my right hand man - peeling, chopping, shredding, or mincing the vegetables and seasonings. He lovingly does this as he adores eating something not from Chick-fil-a. Our version of this bean dish is a favorite, served along side warm corn spoon bread with butter and strawberry preserves.
It's said this is a southern tradition on New Year's Day to guarantee a year of good luck and prosperity. I'm a Nevadan transplant. I just call it good tasting superstition.
Applegate Uncured Sunday Bacon 8 oz. package - one with lots of meat
(Keep unwrapped slices together and cut into 1/4 inch slices along the length.)
2 large sweet onions, chopped
6 large cloves of garlic, minced
Olive oil
4 15oz. cans Eden Organic Black Eyed Peas (no salt added)
2 32oz. Kitchen Basics Unsalted or salted Chicken Stock
24 grinds of black pepper
1 16 oz. Publix Coleslaw Mix (green cabbage, carrots & red cabbage)
Layer into Dutch oven, stew pot, or whatever as follows: Olive oil, then pull bacon layers apart and cover the bottom of Dutch oven with them. However they pull apart is fine. Then layer the chopped onion onto the bacon. Last, spread the minced garlic on top of the onions. Cook at medium heat until bacon is browning, Add more olive oil, if needed, then stir and keep cooking (stirring when needed) until the onion is cooked down without burning the garlic. Do not drain.
Add canned black eyed peas along with the liquid and stir. Add chicken stock and bring to a boil. Simmer uncovered at a low boil for at least 30 minutes until the soup begins to thicken. (Stir when needed.) Add coleslaw, bring back to a boil, then simmer at a low boil for at least 15 minutes, and serve.
I haven't been all bad.
I've been totally bad.
I've been totally perfect.
In this household of cats, I'm totally kibble.
Daylight peeks in over the top of the drapes inviting me to
rise and shine, so I close my eyes, then wake up two hours beyond everyone’s
breakfast time. My bad. I guess the accompanying headache is payback
for a life so lazily lived.
Vic’s now at work at his part time job that takes up forty
hours of each of his weeks; and the pets, well fed by my standards and lousily
fed by their standards, keep telling me its
steaks, lady, steaks!!! When will you
ever get it right!
Ooops! Had to hurry
into the kitchen and turn on the oven to heat breakfast that was left there 15
minutes ago. It’s not always easy being
older…anyway, what was I talking about?
It’s a nippy 37 degrees outside, and the weather station says
with the breeze it feels like 30 degrees.
It felt like the 20’s as I refilled the feeder and threw seed
across the ground into the garden.
With breakfast of maple and chicken patties on a whole grain roll
but a memory of the recent past, my front window once again gives me pleasure
as I follow Austin’s gaze towards the garden.
Mourning doves are milling around on the ground and throughout the
garden like beautiful messengers of delight to my eyes.
English sparrows and house finches dominate the feeder as
usual, with a cardinal flying in, then a larger finch appears which I’m
guessing is a purple finch. It doesn’t matter, because they all explode into
the trees as a red-bellied woodpecker swoops in and rests in the middle of the
seeds. It’s his until he flies out.
I’m thinking, as I drag my feet on that last present to wrap, how
my older Christmas’s began to disappoint more than delight, and I just shut
down and settled into my cocoon hibernating until the January’s appeared.
It’s an effort today as the years have not been kind to my
health, but I’m learning to shift my gears down according to how I feel. Today I’m in creeping mode. It’s back to a few presents this year as many
years have been lacking them.
The largest acquisition has been Dustin’s car seat. After all these years, it’s about time! One look at that humongous box, and wrapping paper
was no longer an option. After several installation tries of getting it all wrong, we joyfully took Dustin on a test ride. It was a total disaster.
We are blessed with a terrier who views car rides as racing
back and forth between windows, bouncing off the side walls as he goes, whoopee. He paws and claws the sides when he tries to
see out the windows.
Apparently we lack simple smarts
adjusting the strap that attaches his harness to his car seat. The car in motion, he tried to eject himself every
second until squeezing himself over the edge, he became froze in time, unable
to budge an inch, then whimper time. Stopped
car, squished down dog seat to unlatch from harness, and back home to learn
from our mistake.
Early this year, Vic told me I was getting my wish as he was
down to his last polo shirt. Those garish shirts of horrible colors and stripy
patterns he loved so much, that I was always proclaiming should be dumped into
the trash along with the doggy poo. He
replenished them year after year to my horror, until the company stopped making
them to my delight. He was so downtrodden,
I felt a brief tinge of regret for hating them so much.
Apparently I like tormenting myself, as they became the focal point of what to get someone who wants nothing except goods that closer to a thousand bucks will buy. EBay and six purchases later, he'll get four rather subdued stripy polo shirts and two from the clown factory. Okay, maybe they aren't quite that garish, but then again...
Usually in a December post I'll write about walking through the winter landscape that still carries a bit of beauty with it, but this December to me is the real definition of cold, dank, and dreary. Maybe not feeling well plays into it, as this writing has been difficult to keep in a happy place.
I'll finish this with the last day of November, when a thin dusting of sleet turned into a light layer of snow, melted, then a light layer of snow again, then melted again. It was one of those can't make up one's mind type of days. I took a few pictures before it all disappeared into a memory, and the photos of the water drops from the melted snow flakes are magical.
After downloading the photos, I looked out my front window because there's really not much to do except look out my front window. I rarely ever pick a bad time to look through that dirty glass, and that day was no exception. A flock of red-wing blackbirds flew in with some grackles, and pigged out on the sunflower seeds. It was a secret anniversary day I've kept in my heart ever since.
Phooey...
if you're ever on on Towne Village Road, give us a knock :)
May this season of celebration
wrap its magical warmth around you
the same as a thousand hugs.
Keep well.
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