When night has retired to just one light by my reading chair,
And I could care less whether I dose off or into the void I just stare,
My toothbrush laments as it lays still dry,
My bed in emptiness lets out a deep sigh,
And my kitty, that dreadfully cunningly adorably cuddly bear...
One meow, two meows, ten meows, still more to fill my once calming air,
Stopping only when I begrudgingly lift my stove-up body to my feet with care,
Caress my toothbrush across pearly teeth,
And climb between two chilly sheets,
To be teased by kitty moving slowly from toe tip to arm pit as if on a dare,
A pet of my hand, and kitty's done gone, not another minute had kitty to spare.
This post is a little snippet of me, a peek beyond the gardens and pets that seem to define my world so much. When I was a bit younger than ancient, it would sometimes be heard from me that I viewed myself in the mirror with rose colored glasses. By that I meant I looked wonderful when I viewed that person looking back at me in my mirror, but that person looking back at me in my photographs was a total stranger...so terribly well-seasoned with age.
A person on the fast track to the lower depths of everlasting pill-popping purgatory, I thought a good lifestyle would be my ticket to by-passing all this dramatic melodrama of aging; but alas, I was so terribly misguided. I guess it's always been the Earth's primary objective since my birth, to pulverize me back into compost. I'm not going down easily, but I do seem to be going down. #@$%&*% ! That's all I have to say on that subject.
Summer has closed up shop, but the weather in these parts hasn't decided whether summer, fall or winter is appropriate. My days seem to be flying off the calendar faster than the minutes ticking off the clock, and my last orthopedist pep talk had me missing a shoe as my last leg was slowly sinking into that cold dark ground. On top of that, I squandered the last of my life's perks on coconut shrimp last night...dang it!
There's something rather ethereal about standing in the drizzle of an early morning rain listening to a red-bellied woodpecker chirping high in the ash tree; while photographing drops of rain standing, rolling and dropping off the surfaces they are collecting on. These inquisitive moments in life may last few or many minutes, and my satisfaction remains questionable since the next storm rolling in may find me at it again.
Love art, even if just prints cut to fit the frames...don't judge :)
Collected by my mom and me when she was young and I was younger :)
A phase of collecting one of a kind handmade miniature teddy bears...
I still adore them after all these years.
In my childhood, mom always kept this cookie jar
full of Raisin Rough Oatmeal Cookies.
It's still my favorite cookie.
In postage stamp sized kitchens,
paraphernalia is stored on countertops as well as in drawers.
Drives one a little bonkers cooking a meal in this congested space,
where towels hang from oven handles,
the duster has a place of honor,
and the kitchen table is home to a collection of junk a mile high.
Welcome to Yvonneville, USA!
Mommy says I'm her Number Two sweet headache.
Daddy says he's her Number One :)
1 cup sifted flour
3/4 teaspoon salt
3/4 teaspoon baking soda
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 cup butter
1/2 cup peanut butter
2 cups sugar
1/4 cup milk
2 teaspoons vanilla
3 1/2 cups quick oats
2 cups raisins
Mix together first four ingredients. Blend butter with peanut butter. Gradually add sugar, creaming it in. Add eggs, milk, and vanilla and beat well. Add dry ingredients, oats, and raisins and blend well. Drop by teaspoon on a greased cookie sheet and bake at 375 degrees for 15 minutes or until done.
I bake with no salt, less sugar, and Muscat raisins are divine when one can find them. You'll adjust to your preferences. Cookies have a better thickness if dough is chilled before putting on cookie sheet. I use old fashioned oats and keep dough covered in refrigerator overnight to soften oats. Cookies burn easily on the bottoms, so do not overcook. They have a way of looking undercooked when done, but you'll figure it out after the first batch. I've received more compliments on these than any other.
Written in my twenties, this was a tongue-in-the-cheek nod to mom and her freshly baked Raisin Roughs. Love you forever, mom.
ODE TO A COOKIE
O, thou round, savored morsel
That betwixt my teeth should crumble
Better still if thou were spared
To ornate my platter in royal state
But alas, my creature of raisins and oats
To bear thy countenance growing stale
Would be too cruel a suffering
While my stomach groans and ails.
Mommy said no cookies, as raisins are poison for pets.
So why is the recipe even posted here?!?
I think that calico, who always tries to kill me when she see me,
should have a couple.
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