We did it...................

...........just like we planned (or hoped anyway) we won a prize at last night's Chili Cookoff. What was so rewarding was seeing the faces and expressions of the people who tried our dished up delight.

First there was a surprised look. Then the savoring of the taste, and then always the question,

"What is that, a spice?" Only one person, actually toward the very end of the tasting competition said "Is that chocolate?????" Bingo!

The prize we got was Third Place, with a little trophy. The second place winners were the Keller-Williams Tri-County team from Medina, and the first place winner, Prudential Kovack Realtors of Medina with their super spicey, run for the water bottle stuff. (One of them had venison in it, and I have a problem with that, so I was not impressed, and after learning of it, disposed of mine.) It's the principle!

All in all, a good time was had and we were proud of the Women's Council members who helped hawk our wares.

In retrospect, the 6 bottles of Sam Adams may have helped put us over the edge. Ten competitors and we finished 3rd. Next year, I will be sure to add something equally exotic as curry and cocoa.

Even the two chefs in attendance who were judging the desserts (Both from Downtown Medina restaurants) said "Good job, way to go" after they found out our secret spy version ingredients! (They had been approached with a sample of our entry and were asked "What is that spice?")

Neither knew!

A rose by any other name....

Yesterday I tried out my culinery skills on a recipe that was provided by a Women's Council member from Medina. The Medina Chapter is entered in a chili cookoff sponsored by the Board of Realtors.

This recipe was fairly simple and was titled "Chili for a Crowd" making enough to serve 25 people. Well it started out rather mundanely, brown 2#'s of ground beef. Since I was housebound due to the big winter storm, I searched the freezer, and then the freezer in the garage, going down to depths of it's bowels to find NO ground beef. What I did find was a 1# package tube of ground turkey (tasteless) and a 1 # package of chuck steaks. Hmmm! So, I browned the turkey, and diced up the steak and browned that also.

Garlic cloves, (always have them)

2 chopped green peppers (had only a half of a pepper) so I added celery.

I added salt, pepper (did not call for pepper)

28 oz can diced tomatoes (none in the pantry, but I had frozen whole tomatoes in the freezer from the garden)

1 small can tomato paste (had it)

3 onions chopped (got that)

1/4 cup chili powder (had Wahoo Chili powder mix from Tastefully Simple)

2 cans drained kidney beans, (got it)

Here comes the tricky part.

2 teaspoons Cumin (no problem as I swirled the lazy susan of spices in the cupboard. Yep, two teaspoons it is.

Stirred up the whole mess and reached to put the cumin away when my eye caught the full label: Curry

Yea gads! Taste it. Oh my gosh! Now what?

Add sugar

Add cocoa

Add more sugar

Add Tabasco

Cook for 30 minutes more

Good Stuff. Thick and spicey with a faint undertone of......what is that delicate flavor?

Ready to infuse my pot into their two pots in a large roaster, and I bet we get some votes!

See, duplicating a recipe is really easy!

Winter Wonderland...enough already!

The snow is snowing, the wind is blowing and we watch the icicles form......bull! I have had enough and I don't mind voicing that opinion!

Tim is home today (and yesterday, and the day before, and all the way back to Thursday!) and we just had the "sub" snowplow driver come and make the drive accessible again.

I could only drive out the driveway in my 4-wheel drive truck and up the next door neighbor's drive as far as their house, and then had to walk the rest of the way to the barn. Not that far when it is not snow covered, or when it is plowed, but when it comes over the top of my 18" tall barn boots, that's enough.

I had to pry the barn door open with a long iron bar and break the ice out of 4 water buckets, and haul water by the bucket to the stalls to water two horses.

Miss Kitty came out to greet me from her perch in the hay loft and had to run a little water in a dish for her to drink. Everything is frozen up to it's eyeballs and I have lost my sense of humor.

It is slowly returning, now that I am in the house, and Daniel was dropped off as "school" was out of the question today!

Put on a crockpot of homemade soup, scoped out a new Patricia Cornwell book, and reserved a spot on the sofa. I guess I can't do anything outside, so the guilt of being in the house and inactive like this is starting to subside!

Lucky me!

The Waiting Game....and a touch of Heaven!

This is the book I just finished reading while waiting at the hospital yesterday. I was waiting for my husband to complete tests, which included dye, exrays, radioactive isotops, xrays, machines, treadmills, lights, cameras and action.

I started on page one, and by the time he was released to go home I was on page 286. I did finish it last evening, very good, I would recommend it highly if you are in to "The Women's Murder Club".

The point is, I waited, and waited, and looked at my watch, then walked the hallway then read, and waited some more.

Come to find out, Tim would have been finished much , much sooner if the first technician had not given him "Hospital Pants" to put on that had snaps on them. Guess what......the little bitty metal snaps showed up on the exrays, and voila' "Let's do them over again, shall we!"

Anyway, we are still waiting to hear something regarding the test results. I wonder if I can match the days that I have to wait for results, to send the check????

This growin' old is for the birds.....

....but it beats the alternative. Now my husband has to go to the hospital for tests on Monday. After getting his D.O.T. (Department of Transportation, which you all probably knew the initials) he was only cleared to drive for 3 months due to "blood in his urine". Now this is a personal matter and certainly private, but just as I was sighing a big sigh of relief about my eye surgery I am faced with the unknown about this series of tests for him.

So, Monday, bright and early we will be in Medina at the hospital doing I don't know what, but a stress test is also involved. I don't feel old, looking is another story, but when did we stop being

immortal???

They "Eyes" have it!

I just returned from the consult and exam with Dr. Chi. Very efficient office with lots of staff, bustling around like some space age facility. Tons of people, and lots of private exam rooms.

First tech, took my eye measurements. Next tech, ushered me into a private, gave me an eye exam, (I failed, wish I had studied harder) then drops, then pressure tested (I passed that one)

then the dreaded drops to dilate, then back to wait. Next, the actual meet the Dr. face to face and his exam. Nice, pleasant man with slender fingers and hands. Next, the explanation, how the process works, what the odds are (good=better than Vegas) and when and where.

Next, the new tech measured my eyeballs. "Thanks so much, we will call in 7 to 10 days to let you know when your surgery will be scheduled".

"Next!"

A Hat for a song by a Song.......

Milan? No.

New York? No.

New Center? Yes!

Aretha Franklin's bow-tied, gift-wrapped, jewel-studded, $179 inaugural hat was designed, produced and sold to the Queen of Soul by Mr. Song Millinery, a family-owned business on Woodward Avenue just south of West Grand Boulevard.

Starting minutes after Franklin finished her distinctive rendition of "My Country, 'Tis of Thee" on Tuesday, the store's phones started ringing. By Wednesday afternoon, Mr. Song had sold hundreds of hats. A store in Dallas had sold 500 more, and the material was running out.
"People are calling from England, asking for the hat," said Luke Song, who designed Franklin's chapeau. "I'm shocked. I had no idea. We did not expect this."
The hat has gone crazy in the media and cyberspace. Everyone from Jon Stewart on "The Daily Show" to the women on "The View" talked about it Tuesday and Wednesday. Stewart poked fun at it; the women seemed more appreciative. On Wednesday's "The Ellen Show," host Ellen DeGeneres wore an exaggerated hat similar to Franklin's.

People have created dozens of Web sites devoted to the hat and have placed it on mug shots of Dick Cheney, assorted dogs and the heads of Mt. Rushmore, among many others.
On the Los Angeles Times blog page Wednesday, a poster named Sarah Hart wrote: "Loved that hat! She is the Queen and she rocked that hat and made that old staid anthem new and powerful!"

Song said Franklin, a longtime customer, came to him and wanted something to go with a coat she had picked out for the inauguration of President Barack Obama. "She had in mind what she wanted," Song said. "She said, 'I want it altered this way.' That's what we do most of the time with the client. We meet them halfway. The heather-gray hat was done in wool felt. The sparkly things are Swarovski crystals.

The hat Song was selling to customers Wednesday is not the custom hat Franklin wore, but it's very close. Song, 36, of Southfield chatted Wednesday and took calls from around the globe, surrounded by about 1,000 vibrantly colored hats in the store, which sits on a stretch of Woodward that has evolved into a funky avenue of fashion. Next door on one side is an abandoned store. On the other side is the Praise Him Beauty, Barber and Nail Salon.
The hat store was started in 1982 by Song's mother, Jin, an immigrant from South Korea. Luke Song, who graduated from Birmingham Seaholm High School and Parsons the New School for Design in New York, is the designer.

"It's an art form for me," Song said. "For me, hats define a culture."
Mr. Song Millinery's clientele is 90% African-American, churchgoing women, Song said. His wholesale business supplies hats to shops in other cities with large African-American communities, and the merchandise sells especially well in California, Houston and Dallas. He designs 100 hat styles every six months. Business was good before the hat appeared on one of the most-watched spectacles in recent years. But now, Franklin's flamboyant headpiece has "taken on a life of its own."

From "Freep.com"

Snug as a Bug in a Rug!

Last May, I was in Washington, D.C. attending the National Women's Council of Realtors Spring Conference. It was my pleasure and privilege to be invited to participate on a private tour of the West Wing of the White House.

A fellow realtor and WCR member invited me two weeks before the conference began to accompany her and another member on this private tour. So I had to submit lots of info for a background check to receive clearance for the tour.

The tour commenced at 5:30 on a Saturday afternoon, and was conducted by Janet Weir Creighton, former mayor of Canton, Ohio, and special deputy assistant to the president, the equivalent of a 4 star general commission. We were met by Janet at a security check point and proceeded to walk into the back of the West Wing. Janet is a vibrant, delightful woman with lots of political savy and it was a genuine treat to be allowed to view a White House that I never before, or probably again would be able to visit.

Janet was appointed to the "job" and along with the appointment came huge responsibility. She told of the first time she flew in "Marine II" One of four Marine helicopters that transport the President and Vice-President. She was the only passenger aboard, and when she looked out the side window, she saw another Marine helicopter rise next to Marine II and then speed ahead.

She asked the Crew Chief "What was that????" the reply came, "Ma'm, that was Marine I, carrying the President". "Carrying the President?" "Then what am I in?" He replied, "the decoy Ma'm!" Welcome to Washington!

We sat in the Brady Press Room, stood at the podium (the room is quite small compared to what you would think it would be) and I even sat in "Helen's" seat up front and had my picture taken.

As we toured the west wing, we paused at the door to the Oval Office. It was not occupied, but we were allowed to stick our heads in and see as much as we could see without actually entering the office. What I was drawn to was the rug on the floor. It was beautiful and huge in size. The "Texas" star was prominent, and the star theme was carried out throughout the workmanship of the thick and lush rug. We were told that each President has his own rug, chosen by him to depict his presidency.

I wonder what the new rug will look like.

As I stood there, it made no difference who was president, or who would be president. I felt the immense presence of quiet and powerful spirits. Long gone from this earth, but nevertheless, powerful and standing guard over the Oval Office. Shivers ran up my spine as I tried to take in 43 presidents sitting at that desk. What a heavy mantle of responsibility. Accepting the advice of close advisors, learned men, scholars, sifting through all the possible scenaios that would unfold based on your decisions.

Not a job for the feint of heart, but a huge job none the less.

The tour ended, and Janet graciously offered a ride to the three of us the "K" restaurant where were meeting Ohio WCR members for dinner. I will never forget sitting in the back seat of Janet's car and proceeding down Pennsylvania Avenue through two security checkpoints where huge steel barriers rose above the brick street. With just a short pause, something electronic in Janet's car met with approval from the armed guard, and magically the huge steel barricades disappeared into the underbelly of the street. Getting through the guards to the White House is not an easy task.

God Bless those who came before, and God Bless those that are there now, and God Bless those who will come.

In closing, I am sticking to my oath:

Unless I heard it with my own ears, don't take stock in it.

Unless I saw it with my own eyes, take it with a grain of salt, and unless they ask my opinion, keep my opinion to myself until it is asked.

Till I walk in those shoes, God Bless those that do!

A special moment in the inaugural parade....

Austin Chandler has ridden horses since he was a toddler, and Jan. 20 he'll make an unforgettable ride.
Chandler, 16, is among 77 members of Culver Military Academy's all-male Black Horse Troop who will ride in the parade. "We all had a pit in our stomachs wondering if we would make it because 1,400 groups applied (to be in the parade) and only 49 got in," said Chandler, Whitestown, who attended Shamrock Springs Elementary in Westfield and Zionsville Middle School.

Culver, 100 miles north of Indianapolis, is a boarding school that offers college-preparatory curriculum for boys and girls in Grades 9-12. Its Black Horse Troop is the largest mounted cavalry unit in the United States, according to the school's Web site.

The troop's involvement in presidential inaugurals began when President Woodrow Wilson took office in 1913. It also appeared at his second inauguration in 1917.
The troop made its third appearance during President Dwight D. Eisenhower's second inaugural in 1957, then participated in every inaugural parade through 1989. It returned to the parade in 1997.

The Black Horse Troop and its female counterpart, the Equestriennes, make up the best riders at Culver Military Academy and Culver Girls Academy, according to a school news release. Twenty-three girls will ride in the parade, too. All those in the inaugural event must maintain good academic standing and citizenship while demonstrating proficiency in equitation.
"We were thrilled," Chandler said about the troop's attitude upon hearing it would travel to the U.S. capital. "We went from doing our normal practices to now knowing that we really have to concentrate" on riding drills.

At age 13, Chandler got an invitation to play polo with Culver's varsity team, and soon after he received a scholarship to play the sport at the school.
"I didn't know what the heck I was getting into," he said. "Finally, I said, 'I've started it, and I'm going to finish it.' "

Chandler, a junior, is a regimental color sergeant major. That puts him in command of the school's color guard.
In less than three weeks, he'll be on the front line during the inaugural parade riding a horse named Cherokee and carrying a flag representing Troop A of the Black Horse Troop.
Chandler's mother, Donna Chandler, said the thought of her son being a part of history brings tears to her eyes.
"This is something that will affect the rest of his life," she said. "We (she and husband, Greg) get goose bumps just thinking about this."

Chandler's parents will travel to Washington to see him in the parade. All three will attend Michigan's inaugural ball with friends who provided tickets.
"This is the most memorable inauguration that we've had because it's the first time an African-American has been elected president," Chandler said. "No one is ever going to forget Barack Obama's inauguration, and I'm lucky enough to be there."

*The WestfieldStar.com

p.s. The Famous Black Horse that is used as a riderless mount in the 60's and 70's was named "Black Jack" The symbolic riderless horse who wore a saddle, but had tall black boots fastened to the stirrup irons that were obviously "empty" was a huge symbol in the funeral procession of presidents. My husband, an accomplished farrier/blacksmith, had the opportunity in the 70's to work on Black Jack in Pennsylvania, at the university there. Also, the thrill of a lifetime!

which came first the .......

My husband's older brother has just been diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer, and he receives treatment of one sort or another almost daily. It is amazing how quickly this disease invaded his body, since the opinions of the Drs. are that three months ago, if there were tests to be done, no cancer would have been evident.



He and his important significant gal built a home out in Sullivan, Ohio in a portion of Ohio's Amish country. They have 5 acres, a barn, ranch style home, and lots of country surrounding them.



Well, a couple of years ago, they decided that chickens would make a wonderful addition to their "Lazy Possum Ranch". He always refers to the property as "the ranch" so a real "Ranch" name is appropriate I guess. Anyway, I have never seen said chickens, and I can go a long long time without seeing them in the future. Chickens are God's creatures, not mine!



A call from him on Saturday gave us the opportunity to give a hand. He had taken her to work, his other vehicle being snowed in, drove the car. They live back off the road, and he mistakenly thought he could pull into his driveway farther than was reasonable for a sane person, so ultimately he got good and stuck!



His specialty is good looking, charming, funny, fun at a party, but not driving or apparently, parking! He did not ask for any help, he just stated facts, and said he would "dig himself out". Tim took it from there. His ill and weakened brother was most definitely, not "digging himself out!"



Long story short, Tim got him out with the help of laying large chains down behind the wheels, and his brother was able drive in reverse with the help of the chains on the snow. Good trick if you ever get stuck and have 14' chains in your trunk!



Tim came home and presented me with his payment for service. Two dozen brown eggs in plain gray cardboard egg boxes. The boxes were labeled with black magic marker as follows:



From the Lazy Possum Ranch, Really good, Try them sunny side up, *Fresh* Pops Eggs-----Sullivan, Ohio

Sunday's pancakes and eggs were never more special.......Really, Really *Fresh*!!!

Red and yellow, blue and green.........

In mid 1984 we moved into a brand new mobile home in our area. Our son was 13, and our daughter 10. It was a difficult adjustment for all of us leaving the farm, but we were determined to keep our family together.

A neighboring home housed a family with two young girls, one of whom was the same age as our daughter. Our children had grown up in the country and went to a small rural school, so going to a "big city" school was a real adjustment for both of them. Classes were large and consisted of kids from all over the city.

Sarah was prone to having friends come over on weekends and this particular youngster happened to be a young African American boy. He visited with us on several occasions, and was always great to be around. There were girls and boys who were her friends, and so we got to know a group of kids from her school.

One day, I answered a knock at our door, and was surprised to see Mrs. Nottingham (she passed last year, God rest her soul) the mother of the two neighbor girls. "Can I come in?" she asked.

"Of course, come in please". She did not make pleasant chitchat, she got right to the point of her visit. "Did you know that your daughter has a black "boy" friend?" .....there was a long laborious pause before I spoke.

"No I didn't, did you?"

End of story.

Red and yellow, blue and green, purple and orange too.....all make up the colors of a beautiful rainbow!

In honor of Women's History......

IF I HAD MY LIFE TO LIVE OVER - by Erma Bombeck (written after she found out she was dying from cancer).

I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren't there for the day. I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage. I would have talked less and listened more. I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained, or the sofa faded. I would have eaten the popcorn in the 'good' living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.

I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth. I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband. I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed. I would have sat on the lawn with my grass stains. I would have cried and laughed less while watching television and more while watching life. I

would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn't show soil, or was guaranteed to last a lifetime. Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I'd have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle. When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, 'Later. Now go get washed up for dinner.' There would have been more 'I love you's' More 'I'm sorry's.' But mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute, look at it and really see it . . live it and never give it back.

STOP SWEATING THE SMALL STUFF!!!

Don't worry about who doesn't like you, who has more, or who's doing what. Instead, let's cherish the relationships we have with those who do love us.

I need to remind myself that this is what life's blessings bring to me!

Yes, one person can make a difference.....

My most favorite comment to people who say, "but we are just a small, grassroots group, we can't make a difference". I say to them "you obviously don't remember Rosa Parks!"



On December 1, 1955, seamstress Rosa Parks changed America forever when she was arrested for refusing to yield her seat to a white patron on a Montgomery, Alabama city bus. Mrs. Parks was found guilty of disorderly conduct and that lead directly to the famous Montgomery Bus Boycott.


However, Mrs. Parks was not the "quiet seamstress" as the media has often portrayed her. In 1943 she became a member of the Montgomery chapter of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP), and she served as its secretary until 1956. After the Bus Boycott, Mrs. Parks lost her job and, with her husband and mother, relocated to Detroit in 1957. In 1965 she joined the staff of U.S. Representative John Conyers of Michigan and worked until her retirement in 1988. In 1999 she was awarded the Congressional Gold Medal of Honor, the highest honour a civilian can receive in the United States. Mrs. Parks passed away October 24, 2005, at the age of 92.


Stand up for what you believe....she did!

The riding lesson.....

Many years ago, when I was in my thirties, I was so involved in horses that it was almost scary. I seemed to eat, sleep, live and breathe horses, including the ones that I owned at home and the horses that I had with a trainer.


Long story short, my days were filled with activity revolving around my two children, my husband, my mini-horse farm and my grocery store. Not enough hours in the day to get everything done, so sometimes, when I fell into bed at night the process was unceremonial to say the least.

Strip off my clothes, let them lay beside the bed and fall into bed exhausted. Said day in time was no different than any other. Get up, get the kids up, dressed, fed and off to school, pull on some clothes, go to the barn and feed the horses, come in feed the dogs, pick up the breakfast dishes and head over to the trainer's barn.


I was going to ride a horse that day and take a lesson on my own horse who was currently in training for the show ring. If I ever was going to ride this particular mount in the show ring, I needed many hours of riding her. The trainer, although an adequate horseperson, was no genius in the art of equitation (little did I know then that my training dollars were blown up his nose, but that is another story). Anyway, I was riding along, posting the trot (see "english equitation, saddleseat" on google) concentrating to beat the band. Trying to stay with the horses' gait and not fall off into the tanbark, when the trainer stopped me. "Whoa" said he. "Why" said I. "You're losing something"!

"What"????? Losing something indeed. A mild description of the "new look" that I was sporting.
As I looked down on either side of my body, my eyes followed the leg of my jeans on the left side. Lo and behold, a pair of black underpants were peeking out of the cuff of my jean leg, dangling dangerously off the toe of my boot! Yikes!

Next time I jump out of bed and pull my clothes on, (the ones that I let lay at the bedside from the night before) I must look to see if my underwear is still in the leg of my jeans!

How can I top an act like that!

The Christmas socks

I just finished putting away a basket full of clean and folded clothes.

What better to do today with the temp hovering in the sub zero area than to catch up on the laundry that was still in the very depths of the laundry room hamper.

Anyway, I had to smile and fondle the pair of Christmas socks that I put away into Tim's sock drawer.

I remember when I purchased this particular pair of socks. It was just before Christmas 1970. Yes, 38 years ago! I purchased them and carefully wrapped them and wrote out a gift tag that said: "Merry Christmas Daddy, Christmas #1" It was our son Nathan's first Christmas and I wanted Daddy to open a present from his new little boy, Nathan was born on October 13, 1970.

(that is how I remember the year that I purchased the socks)

This year was the 38th time that they had come out of the sock drawer, spent Christmas Day on Tim's feet, and then laundered, dried, folded and put away again for the next Christmas to come.

Ah!...what a sweet memory!

So, if you happen to see my husband on Christmas Day, 2009, say hello to the socks!

One a day keeps the statue away.....

Twice this month someone has mentioned that they are not able to understand the fact that people are "depressed". The word depressed is not to be confused with the word "depression". At least in my case it is not.

I suffer from chronic depression. Some of my friends are aware of it, and some of my family also. Only the people who suffer from this disease (yes it is a disease) can comprehend it's manifestations. My brain is short on seratonin, a chemical. (No it is not short a brick or two as some of you assume) Without a pill a day (many people are on more than one dose a day) I am not able to get out of bed and after I have been off the pill for a few days, I suffer what I call the "Salt syndrome" You know, in the Bible the tale is told of Lot's wife who disobeyed the command to not look back, and she was turned into a pillar of salt. Well, it happens to me. I lock up like a statue. I couldn't move quickly if my life depended on it. I know what I am supposed to do, I know what the correct thing to do is, I know how important it is to do, but I just can't do anything. I turn to salt.

I am a happy person. I am a positive person, I am a deep person, I am a caring person, I am a compassionate person, but I am not a normal person, in the general sense of the word.

If I had a visual handicap, people would cut me some slack. I am not being flip about this, but I do feel sometimes like I have a handicap. I can't change it, I can't control it, I can't wish it away,

I can't "heal thyself" as my husband thinks I should be able to do.

He doesn't understand, and I have given up trying to help him understand. Even my physician gave up trying to make him understand. So, I live with it, I live with it, and I live a full productive life and I have value and I have a great time going through life.

"One a Day" vitamins are not the only thing keeping me going forward!

Every Woman Should Know.......

Know how to use a stick shift
A plunger
Understand the difference between don't tell a soul and don't tell a soul, I mean it
Know her mind, change it,
Have protection handy, but not too handy
Use special china and special underwear for no special reason
Over Commit,
Come Through
Refuse to do it again
Do it again
Be able to discuss first and ten
Have better things to do
Set Boundaries
Go camping
Grow something
Dance crazy all alone
Stare at a phone
Get dressed in five minutes
Be a Princess
Get over it
Believe in the perfect man
.....Get over it
Read, walk, Flirt, shock, listen, sing
Thank God
Be single and like it
........a lot
Raise a child or not
See a wrinkle and be reminded of her youth and not her age!

The "eyes" have it!

Fear manifests itself in many phases of my life.

It comes in small packages as a rule, but this package is one that I am hesitant to open. I have trouble seeing. Not everything is a blur, just the things that I need to see clearly, like the road at night, the road when the sun is shining brightly, the road covered in snow, the TV menu, road signs, the white line, the mailboxes on posts in the country that look like people walking along the road, and people walking along the road that look like mailboxes on posts.

"Cataract" is a word we all hear but pay noattention too, for the most part. Except, in my case, the culprit is on the back of the eye, not the front.

Finally, I made the ultimate decision, after much struggling with the fear of going blind, and the fear of the unknown, and the fear of picking up the phone and calling the Doctor, "hey, I am having a problem, I need to come into your office". January 23rd at 2:30 is "I" day. My Doctor said: "If you want me to schedule you you for the Cleveland Clinic, then I will, but I will tell you this: your surgery will be performed by a Resident!" What???? But.......not at the Clinic?! She told me that one of the most competent surgeions is located right here in Medina. Who knew? Yes, I am going to see the famous Dr. Chi! He will do the surgery at the hospital and I am to believe that he is right up there with the almighty!

I have pictured myself with a seeing eye dog, (not my Toby), and a white cane, and having to depend on someone to drive me around, and have my hair done by someone who will make it look like a football helmet, and choosing the wrong color lipstick and all sorts of other things. Let alone not being able to take care of my horses, see my precious Daniel......no logic to my fears!

Well one thing is certain in this whole thing.......getting old is not for sissies!

A friend in need........is a friend indeed!

Your job won't take care of you when you are sick.

Your friends will.

Stay in Touch!

No matter how you feel...

get up...

dress up...

and show up!

...think it could happen like this??????

Fixin’ a deal - Chicago Style

Three contractors are bidding to fix a broken fence at the White House in D.C.: One from Illinois ,one from Tennessee, and a third from Kentucky. They all go with a White House official to examine the fence.

The Tennessee contractor takes out a tape measure and does some measuring, then works some figures with a pencil.'Well', he says, 'I figure the job will run about $900: $400 for materials, $400 for my crew and $100 profit for me.'

The Kentucky contractor also does some measuring and figuring, then says, 'I can do this job for $700: $300 for materials, $300 for my crew and $100 profit for me.'

The Illinois contractor doesn't measure or figure, but leans over to the White House official and whispers, '$2,700.'

The official, incredulous, whispers back, 'You didn't even measure like the other guys! How did you come up with such a high figure?'The Illinois contractor whispers back, '$1000 for me, $1000 for you, and we hire that guy from Kentucky to fix the fence.

''Done!' replies the government official.

Top Ten Comfort Food Countdown......The Deen Bros., Y'All Come Eat!.

Christmas provided me with a new stash of cookbooks. I love cookbooks! I only collect the kind that you can "read". You know, a story behind the author on each page, or a story or anecdote about the ingredients, or the origin of the recipe.

Well, many of you know that I am a huge Paula Deen fan, and thus by association, a fan of Jamie and Bobby Deen, Paula's two grown sons. The recipe in mention is called "Bobby's Goulash". Now the word Goulash probably had a slightly different meaning to me growing up on Cleveland's ethnic westside. and would have contained the words "Paprika and Sour Cream" But this recipe is certainly right up there on my list of "Food for the Soul" or whatever you choose to call something easy to make, filling, aromatic and done in "one pan".

20 minutes of simmering onions in olive oil, (I also added chopped celery, because I had it) browned ground beef, basil, oregano, garlic, salt, pepper, 2 cans of diced tomatoes, and a large can of tomato sauce (I only had 28 oz. of tomato puree)... same difference! The addition of 3 tbl . of soy sauce (does teriyaki count?) was a surprise, but it's a TV show cookbook, what the hay! Poetic license, so there!

After simmering this stuff, you add 2 cups of "dry macaroni" directly to the mix and simmer for another 20 minutes, stirring occasionally, and then after that, let it sit off the heat for another 20 minutes. Prep time was insignificant, and I was watching Daniel while I was cooking so popping back into the kitchen was no biggie. Delicious! Made a ton and it was so comforting! I will be eating it for a few days at least. Great addition to a snowy Ohio evening.

I am no chef, and certainly no TV Show Star, author, or Foodie wannabe on the Food Network, but this is the kind of cooking I am "famous" for in my own right. One pan...One Meal.....Perfect!

If the truth would be known, you could find similiar recipes in any church cookbook from the ladies auxiliary, or any Amish recipe collection, or as my Kentucky born and bred Grandma Craft would have pronounced it......Slum Gullion!

Yah!

p.s. I also use Paula's House Seasoning (used in her restaurant, The Lady and Sons, in Savannah, Ga.) for cooking.: 1 cup salt, 1/4 cup garlic powder, 1/4 cup black pepper. Shake up and store in a covered container and keep it next to the stove. Good stuff!

No matter what the flower, the sentiment is the same!

There comes a point in your life when you realize:

Who matters,Who never did,

Who won't anymore...And who always will.

So, don't worry about people from your past,

there's a reason why they didn't make it to your future.

Give these flowers to everyone you don't want to lose in 2009.

This was sent to me by a friend....enjoy!

Recipe for a Happy New Year

Take twelve whole months,
Clean them thoroughly of all bitterness, hate, and jealousy.
Make them just as fresh and clean as possible.
Now cut each month into twenty-eight, thirty, or thirty-one different parts,
But don't make up the whole batch at once.
Prepare it one day at a time out of these ingredients.
Mix well into each day one part of faith, one part of patience, one part of courage, and one part of work.
Add to each day one part of hope, faithfulness, generosity, and kindness.
Blend with one part prayer, one part meditation, and one good deed.
Season the whole with a dash of good spirits, a sprinkle of fun, a pinch of play, and a cupful of good humor.
Pour all of this into a vessel of love.
Cook thoroughly over radiant joy, garnish with a smile, and serve with quietness, unselfishness, and cheerfulness.
You're bound to have a
HAPPY NEW YEAR!