New Year- Day 7 - Still Windy, Snow in Forecast

Still Windy - January 7, 2011

 

 

The sky in the photo above looks a great deal like the sky yesterday -- mostly blue, with a few puffy clouds and some streaky clouds blown by the wind, which is still quite strong today. The mail delivery person (to be politically correct although it was actually a mail-man since this person was of the masculine gender) caught me in the front yard with the camera to my eye.  I felt I had to explain that I was documenting the new year by taking a sky photo every day.  Now -- lest any readers feel panic creeping up on them, just because I take a sky photo every day does not (necessarily) mean that you will be looking at 365 sky photos in 2011!

Staying with the "windy" theme for just a 'mo, and since I'm still reveling in having learned how to upload videos,  I offer you a rendition of my #2 favorite "Wind" song:

Gogi Grant was a pretty woman, and had a beautiful voice.  Too bad they weren't making videos back in 1956, when this was recorded.

Earlier in the day, the temperature was in the low 60's, but it's supposed to SNOW on Sunday!  If you don't like the weather around here, just wait a while.  We shall see what we shall see.

I called my physician's office this morning to request new written prescriptions for the medications I take daily.  This is an annual exercise; my medications haven't changed in several years, but the prescriptions must be rewritten every twelve months, and January is the month.  What has this to do with the weather, you might inquire?  The clerk in the doctor's office to whom I spoke told me that it might be Tuesday of next week before I could pick up the prescriptions because "We're supposed to have snow, you know, and the office may have to be closed on Monday."  

Arkansans, by and large, don't react very well to snow or ice.  I suppose I have to include myself among them, at least when it comes to ice.   However, only one time in the last 40 years of my working life did I miss work because of the weather, in this case about 9" of snow -- not because I couldn't/wouldn't get out and about, but because my mother's "sitter" couldn't make it to my home to stay with her.  Since retiring, I generally have the luxury of just staying in when it snows.  If I'm in a particularly mischievous frame of mind, I can stand in my open doorway and listen to tires squeal as drivers try to make it up the inclines on the freeway, just a few blocks away.

That's it for this 7th day of the new year.  Tomorrow is also a day -- and happens to be my son's 52nd birthday.

New Year - Day 6 - Wind & Other Stuff

Brisk Wind - Wispy Clouds  January 6, 2011

 

 

Wind

The sixth day of the new year broke chilly, bright and clear, with strong westerly winds whipping dry leaves into a frenzy.  The block on which I live has many large oak trees as well as several sycamores and smaller deciduous trees which have shed all but a few tightly clinging leaves.   If I listened closely, although I was inside the house, I could hear the leaves rustling and murmuring as they tumbled across streets and yards, drifting into leaf-banks, much like snow before a driving wind.  There will be a lot of leaf-raking going on when the wind dies down. Perhaps my neighbors to the east will have already received many of the leaves from my yard, but I expect that I'll have the leaves from my neighbors to the west.

I'm trying to expand my blogging abilities and have, below, inserted my first video -- my favorite song about the wind.   I hope it works.  If you can't, or choose not to, open this video file, you may go here to listen.

The singer is Harve Presnell.  Although I have heard  it sung by Vaughn Monroe, Frankie Lane and others, this is my favorite version.

The western high desert, about which I have been posting for a few days, can spawn some doozy wind storms.  Not tornados like we have here in Arkansas, but wind that blows from the west for days and days, nearly always carrying with it fine sand that creeps into every nook and cranny of our house and car given even the tiniest opening. If I had to be outside during one of these windstorms, it was necessary to take precautions, covering my nose and mouth and squinting my eyes so that my eyelashes could protect my eyes. [Have you ever noticed how long a camel's eyelashes are? Or, wondered why wandering Bedouins wrap the lower parts of their faces with cloth?]   I well remember sweeping up dustpans full of sand after "a blow" when we lived in Albuquerque.   Unless we were extremely diligent, the grit would also find its way into our food. Mashed potatoes ala sandstorm; yuck!  People are not supposed to eat grit; chickens and birds eat grit!  

Other Stuff
After having the same dentist for over 30 years, the sweet man up and retired last July 31. He was thoughtful enough to transfer my records to another local dentist, but I chose to go elsewhere when I had a dental emergency the second week in August.  I was so pleased with the care I received from the new dentist that I made an appointment on the spot for my regular semi-annul checkup, which occurred today.  I'm still pleased, and have already scheduled my next appointment in July.  Although my former dentist's office was conveniently within walking distance (if I cared to walk), my new provider's office is about eight miles away. However, it's an easy drive, away from the Little Rock traffic, so I really don't mind. 

Today is The Epiphany when, according to legend, the Three Wise Men brought gifts to the baby Jesus.  My elder daughter and Gardening Daughter decided that we would not give "Christmas" gifts, but would wait until The Epiphany for our gift exchange.  I had no idea how many folks around the world do the same.  Even the redoubtable Suldog and HIS WIFE wait until January 6 to exchange their gifts to each other.  His post about "Little Christmas" is here. I invite you to visit.

Part of my afternoon I spent watching a movie on TV, a rare occurrence for me.  However, I am extremely fond of the Arnold Schwarzenegger/Jamie Lee Curtis movie True Lies, and it was on the AMC channel this afternoon.  There is no reasonable explanation of why I like shoot-'em-up action films and things that go "BANG,"  but I do, and that movie has more than its share. It's also probably highly offensive to those of a sensitive/sensible nature.  I'm also fond of movies with high-speed car chases, and lots of wrecks; Bullitt, the old movie with Steve McQueen, is one of my favorites.  Or, Smokey and the Bandit.   Now, all you real and/or amateur psychologists out there, don't start trying to figure me out -- that's just the way I am, slightly warped.

I had about all the excitement I could stand for the sixth day of the New Year.  Tomorrow is also a day. (*)

(*) That's actually a quote from one of my favorite fictional characters -- Lt. Luis Mendoza, Los Angeles Police Department, created by author Dell Shannon (a.k.a. Elizabeth Linington) who, from 1960 to 1986  wrote thirty seven (37) police procedural novels featuring Lt. Mendoza.  If you're so inclined to read that sort of thing, I recommend that series to you.

New Year - Day 5 - 12th Day of Christmas

Not a Cloud in the Sky - January 5, 2011

 

Today was  the 12th Day of Christmas.  When these words are posted to my blog, it will be January 6, The Epiphany.  The Christian denomination of which I am a member observes several church "seasons," beginning with Advent, followed by Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, Easter, Pentecost,  and The Season after Pentecost, with other special days in between.  Then comes Advent, again.

I was born into and raised in the Southern Baptist Church and remained a Baptist for almost 54 years. My father was a graduate of the Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary in Fort Worth and an ordained Southern Baptist minister. Insofar as I remember, Southern Baptists don't officially observe any of the above mentioned church seasons, at least as such.   Nevertheless, in all my days under my father's roof, we did not put up the Christmas tree until December 24, and it was taken down not a day before the morning of January 6.  Thus it was all my growing-up years, and I continued the practice after I married and had children.  Christmas was special, but didn't start until Christmas Eve, and it lasted through January 5.

My children's father and I separated and were divorced in 1962.  Several years later, I met a man who, despite my having four young children, wanted to marry me -- and so we did, on December 2, 1968.  The children and I moved into his home and he almost immediately put up a huge Christmas tree, waaay before December 24!  A minor disagreement ensued, but I gave up my side of the argument because I saw that I was not going to win.  Another, slightly more vigorous argument ensued when, on the morning of December 26, he started taking the tree down!  I didn't win that one, either.  We were married almost 21 years before he died and, until the last Christmas before his death, the tree went up around December 1, and came down on December 26.   No Twelve Days of Christmas for us.

I moved to a much smaller home on December 14, 1990, and put up a Christmas tree that same day --- but only because I was hosting a pre-Christmas party for my coworkers in my new home.  Even though it was artificial,  I loved that tree, which was beautifully and lovingly decorated by my elder daughter.  I loved it so much that I left it up until February!

Then, I took the tree down, separated and divided all the ornaments into four boxes, and gave them to my by-then-adult children, being sure that each one had a several  of the ornaments we had used during the time they lived with me (the baby joined the Air Force in 1981.)  I gave the tree away, too.

From time to time, I attempt to decorate my home for Christmas, but my heart is not in it anymore.  Two years ago, I festively decorated my coffee table with a large candle and a bunch of Clementines.  I did have a beautiful front door wreath this year, made by Gardening Daughter, but otherwise my house was bare of decoration.   I save my energy for decorating the church for the Christmas Eve service and the Twelve Days of Christmas -- and there's plenty of that to do.  Also requiring energy is the taking down of the decorations, which we did following the service tonight.  After all, tomorrow is The Epiphany, and Christmas is over -- except for the work of Christmas, which, if you missed it, you can read about here.

Tomorrow is also a day.

New Year - Day 4 - Butterscotch Valley, Tamerisk Lane

Cotton-ball clouds - January 4, 2011
Photo from my front yard about 1 p.m.

 

PAST

While recalling my family's visit to the big ranch in New Mexico (about which I posted here) I remembered a few other highlights of that trip. 

My father's work on the ranch house and our subsequent family visit came about because of my father's association with the son-in-law (or soon to be son-in-law) of the property holder, "Mr. H."   C.J., the son-in-law, had been/was a widower with one son, Jimmy, who was probably about 16 at the time.  Both C.J. and Jimmy were at the ranch that weekend.  Since Jimmy was familiar with the surroundings, he was assigned (sentenced to) be a guide for three or four city kids.  I say "three or four" because I can't remember if my brother, the youngest at age 7, went with us; most likely, Mama made him stay with her.  Jimmy was to show us the less dangerous parts of the property.  Keep in mind, that out in the desert of New Mexico, "dangerous," at least for city kids, is lurking around every corner and under almost every piece of scrub -- rattlesnakes, coyotes,  venemous bugs, mice and prairie dogs carrying fleas that can cause bubonic plague, etc. (Of course, except for rattlesnakes, I didn't know that at the time.)  Be that as it may, the adults felt it was perfectly safe for us to be wandering around, but only with a knowledgeable and trustworthy escort.

It's an unusual piece of high desert acreage that does not contain several arroyos.  According to Wikipedia (what would we do without it?)  -- "Arroyo, a Spanish word translated as brook, and also called a wash is usually a dry river, creek or stream bed—gulch that temporarily or seasonally fills and flows after sufficient rain. Wadi is a similar term in Africa. In Spain, a rambla has a similar meaning to arroyo."  The ranch that we were visiting had many arroyos, one relatively close to the family house.  Jimmy said it was one of his favorite places to visit, and assured us that we would like it. So, off we went.

It was a relatively short walk to the arroyo, probably a half-mile.  We set off in the cool of the early morning (probably after the steak breakfast) and were soon on the banks of a deep cut in the desert floor. At a place where the side more or less gently sloped, we scooted down into the cut, and found ourselves in another world.

I estimate that the bottom of the arroyo, which was five or six feet in width, was about 5 or 6 feet lower than the surrounding land, based on the fact that I was over 5 feet tall at the time, and the walls of the arroyo were higher than my head.  (There must have been some scary flash floods there at some time.)  The floor of the arroyo was covered with the finest sand I had ever seen, and it was a beautiful, rosy/yellow-brown, almost exactly the color of butterscotch pudding.  My sister was the first to name the place "Butterscotch Valley," because that's just what it looked like.   Ahead of us, in the fine sand we could see the tracks left by hopping, creeping and crawling things --  tiny bug feet; the track of a sidewinder (rattlesnake); footprints of prairie dogs and rabbits.  Of course, we were thrilled and chilled!  Jimmy was probably bored.

A little further along,  the sides of the arroyo were covered by scrubby bushes.  We learned that they were tamarisks or "Saltcedars" (Wikipedia --again-- article here.) We thought they were beautiful.  If I recall correctly, the leaves have a pleasant fragrance.  Sister, again, who always had a fanciful turn of mind, called that area "Tamarisk Lane." 

I don't remember how long we stayed at the bottom of the arroyo,  probably until the sun was almost directly overhead, warming things (and us) up considerably.  I'm quite sure we city folk "wussed-out" and Jimmy led  us back to civilization and the safety of the ranch house.

* * *
PRESENT

Today has been a quiet day.  I made a trip to the post office, did a bit of necessary shopping and a few  chores around the house.  In the afternoon, I treated myself to a shampoo and styling at the beauty shop, which always makes me feel refreshed. 

After supper, Friend "B" and I joined two other rubber stamping buddies for our Christmas gift exchange. Because of our various commitments here and there, we never seem to be able to do this before Christmas Day but, since I am an avid subscriber to the idea of 12 days of Christmas (which won't be over until this coming Thursday, January 6, which is Epiphany) we are well within the Christmas Season for our get together. 

Last of the Summer Wine, a BBC production, will be showing on our local PBS station in a few minutes. Watching that usually ends my day with a smile.  I do so much enjoy that program, and am sad to know that this past year, the 37th continuous year it has been in production, is the last one.  I hope it will be in syndication/reruns for the rest of my life.

That about wraps up day 4 of the New Year. Tomorrow is also a day.

New Year - Day 3 - Saving California and Other Stuff

Pre-Twilight,  Day 3 of the New Year

 

I didn't give myself a holiday from work, after all, but I didn't rush to be there at 9 a.m.  That would have been somewhat an impossibility, anyway, as I didn't wake up until 8:55. My long nap yesterday did not prevent me from sleeping for over nine hours.  After easing around for a while to loosen my joints and put some caffeine in my system, I finally made it to the church around 10:30.  I worked for about three hours, then went to a late lunch with Friend "B", who has just returned from a week-long cruise to Jamaica and Cozumel with family and friends.

I've never been on a cruise.  Ever the pessimist, and not being able to swim, I concluded some time ago that if anyone were to go overboard from a cruise ship, it would be me -- so I don't take the risk.  I won't go to California, either, holding a long-standing conviction that the San Andreas Fault will become highly active the minute I cross the state line, and after massive destruction, California will become an island.  This conviction precludes my ever seeing the Redwoods and Yosemite but, hey --  I'm potentially protecting millions of people by staying away. 

I looked after "B"'s two cats while she was away.  I've learned not to try to pick up Boots, the big male. The last time I tried it, I got a nasty bite on my index finger, developed an infection akin to blood poisoning and ended up spending 24 hours in the hospital while I was pumped full of intravenous antibiotics. It's not that Boots doesn't like me; he lets me stroke him and winds himself around my feet and legs, purring.  He just doesn't want anyone but "B" to pick him up.

Her other cat, Miss Sugar, is a beautiful, pure white little lady who is also a fraidy-cat.  "B" has had her for 3 or 4 years, and I think I've been able to pet her only a couple of times, and then only if "B" is nearby.  She didn't let even "B" hold her for almost two years.  During my visits last week, Miss Sugar hid herself, or most of herself, under a covered table.  She thinks that if she can't see you, you can't see her.  Funny kitty!

After lunch, "B" and I ventured out to our local big-box store where the church has an account.  Among other things, I'm responsible for buying the janitorial and office supplies for the church.  I've had a note on my desk from the janitor since the second week in December, telling me that paper towels, toilet tissue and other necessities need to be replenished.  The pre-Christmas weather was so wet and cold that I didn't make the purchases, but kept an eye on supplies, just in case.  Although it's still chilly, at least it's dry. Pouring rain is not conducive to trying to unload several cases of paper goods.

While we were out, and just because we could, we stopped at the nearby Barnes & Noble emporium to look at Nook/Nook Color readers.  I was more curious than anything else, because my sister gifted me with a Kindle for Christmas.  The main difference that I could see is that the basic Nook has a larger reading screen than the basic Kindle, but at a higher cost -- not much, but higher.  The Nook Color costs significantly more, but offers the opportunity to view magazines, children's books and the like in color.

Whether any of that is a significant advantage, I don't know, because I've not yet activated my Kindle. Sister bought me the straight Wi-Fi version which, because I don't have access to a wireless network, I am unable to use. Sister encouraged me to send it back to the place she bought it. With the company's prior approval, I have done so. She is going to upgrade my device to the 3-G model which does not require a wireless connector; a generous offer which I accepted.  It will be sometime before all the exchanging is done, but I hope soon to have a report to share.

Thus endeth the third day of the New Year. 

New Year - Day 2 - Steak for Breakfast

Morning Has Broken - January 2, 2011

After an all-too-brief sleep, I awoke just before 5 a.m. -- hungry!  After my New Year's Day lunch, I hadn't much appetite for supper, but did eat a small cheese sandwich around midnight before putting my head on the pillow about 1 a.m.  (I stay up waaaay too late.)  My tummy was growling when I went into the kitchen to make coffee and feed the cats, so I did something about it.  I'm not usually much of a morning eater, but I fixed cube steak and gravy for breakfast (Yum!), and that triggered a memory of the first time I had steak for breakfast.

When I was about 14 years old, my family and I spent the weekend of Easter with some friends who lived on a very large ranch (640,000 acres) about 50 miles west of Albuquerque. My father had been engaged to do some construction work on the family home, and to wire the house and some outbuildings for electricity, which was provided by a shed full of large storage batteries, kept charged by a wind-charger.  Being used to city-provided electricity all my life, I found it fascinating.  I was very interested in just about everything on the ranch, having never before experienced anything quite like it. We slept in the main house guest rooms, but I was almost too excited to sleep, and at about 5 a.m. on the first morning at the ranch, I awoke to the sound of someone moving about in another part of the house. Rising and dressing, I wandered down the hall to the kitchen where I found "Shorty," the ranch cook, working on breakfast.  He had already made coffee in a blue granite-wear pot that was about a foot tall.  The coffee was boiled in cowboy style, with a few eggshells thrown in to settle the grounds.  He poured a mug full for me, added a whopping dollop of thick cream and some sugar, and began to fix breakfast for the city-folk -- biscuits, eggs, steak and gravy. I watched in awe;  I didn't know a bandy-legged cowboy could be so efficient in the kitchen. He had  already prepared and served much the same to the cowboys in the bunkhouse, who had been up and about for some time, as had "Mr. H." the ranch owner.  That was the first time I had ever seen that much meat for breakfast, and it was tasty!   If our family breakfasts had meat, it was usually bacon, or perhaps a bit of ham.

After pre-New Year's Day high temperatures in the 70's, the unseasonal warmth has left us.  This morning it was 19 degrees when I awoke.  The thermostat in the hallway was showing 61 degrees when ventured to the kitchen, so I knew it had cooled off considerably since I went to bed.  That's too cool inside for both me and the cats, so I cranked it up a notch. It's still a bit chilly in the house, but I bundled up.  I just received my natural gas bill, and I need to do whatever it takes to control that particular expense.

My afternoon was spent in slothful inactivity -- after church, I fixed a sandwich of left over steak, then covered up with my Christmas quilt and took a nice nap!

So endeth the second day of the new year. Tomorrow is also a day.

New Year's Day and Random Stuff

New Year's Day Sky with Dancing Clouds

New Year's Day dawned cold, wet and altogether dreary. Bummer!  However, by noon, although it was still chilly, with a brisk wind blowing, the sun was shining.

My son-in-law (Gardening Daughter's husband), called me about 10:30 to invite me to a New Year's Day lunch, which was to feature Black-Eyed Peas and a lot of tasty leftovers from their New Year's Eve get-together with friends from his work place.  I gladly accepted.  One of my resolutions for this new year is to spend more time with my children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren (I currently have three blood-greats and one love-great.)

 I had my fill of chips, yummy Spinach Dip, guacamole, pickled okra, olives and other (need I say high-calorie) foods before settling down to a bowl of rice and Black-Eyed Peas, cornbread, and sides of steamed cabbage and other dishes we Arkies enjoy.  Also present at lunch were Elder Daughter (ED) and her mother-in-law (ED's husband stayed home to watch football), and my son and his wife.

I had been moved by the invitation to lunch to get into my own kitchen and make something to take for dessert.  I make a mean bread pudding, if I do say so myself.  So I made a big one (four eggs, a scant cup of sugar, 30 oz. of milk, generous dashes of Saigon cinnamon and vanilla, about 3/4 cup of golden raisins, a couple tablespoons of melted butter and almost a whole large loaf of several-days-old-white bread.)  While it was baking in a well-buttered dish, I prepared a hard sauce of butter, powdered sugar, dark rum (usually kept only for medicinal purposes and flavoring for my annual mince pie), and a wee bit of vanilla.   Still-warm bread pudding with a teaspoon of rum sauce drizzled on top is pretty tasty.  Turns out, it was a big hit with my son's wife, so I sent her home with a 16-oz. container full of pudding with a generous dollop of rum sauce on top.  She was a happy camper.  My son-in-law hinted around about the remaining pudding, so I left that for him, and will pick up my dish later. Funny thing is, I didn't know either of them were so fond of bread pudding, since I don't think I have ever made one to take to a family dinner.  One never knows how the most humble things can be appreciated.  Or -- maybe it was the rum sauce!

My late afternoon was spent at my church.  I have Altar duty this week, always a labor of love.  Setting up everything for tomorrow's services took about forty-five minutes, then I worked in the office for a couple of hours preparing the service schedules for the remainder of January, and writing checks for the "first of the month" bills.  As treasurer, I am not allowed to sign checks, just to prepare them for the signatures of others.  The authorized signers should be at one of the services tomorrow and the checks are ready for them. I'm glad to have that little chore out of the way.  I usually work in the church office on Monday mornings, but I may give myself a holiday.

All in all, not bad for the first day of the new year.   I was well fed, blessed by the company of my family, and pleased with what I accomplished at work.

I hope your day was as enjoyable.