Wednesday, October 26, 2011

A Cup Of Coffee and Memories

I'm sitting here this morning, drinking my highly favored Pumpkin Spice Coffee,  and letting the memories run through my head.  You see,  I'm drinking my coffee out of my Dad's coffee mug.   He had one coffee cup he used all the time.  Every time I see it,  and drink from it,  I think about sitting in his living room, listening to HIS memories and drinking our coffee together.

Daddy had a lot of memories to share.  In the last few years,  he might not remember what he did the day before, but he sure remembered what he did when he was 10, or 20, and I loved to hear those stories.

I also have two coffee cups that belonged to my Mom.  They were given to her by one of my aunts (on Mom's side) and that particular aunt made sure Mom knew exactly how much she paid for those particular coffee cups.  Mom had them for years and when I would visit,  Mom would bring out those cups, we would sit at the table, drink our coffee and talk over old times that we had with that particular aunt, her funny ways,  and the fact that we did miss her.

A cup of coffee has always played a part in my life.  I've heard Mom and Dad both tell stories and laugh about how when I was a very small child,  I would go around the table, checking to see if anybody left any coffee in their cups and I would drink it.  Funny how there was  always a bit of coffee left in the bottom of those cups.

So when you see or hear that I'm enjoying a good cup of coffee,  know that along with that coffee,  I'm also enjoying some wonderful memories.

Sunday, October 23, 2011

Quiet

I'm just sitting here this morning enjoying the quiet and the beauty of the morning.  Everything is so still inside the house.  The only noise is the hum of the computer and the fireplace kicking on from time to time.  I love these quiet, unfettered mornings.

The dogs are curled up, side by side on the ottoman,  the cat is sunning herself in the window, and I'm enjoying a good cup of coffee.  Nothing like a cup of Pumpkin Spice coffee to bring out the sounds and feel of  Fall in the air.

I love my cozy, little Pirate's Lair......

Thursday, October 20, 2011

It's COLD Today!

Yesterday D and I went shopping and as we rode along,  I noticed that the trees are getting all dressed up in their glorious fall colors.  Though it was pouring rain,  the yellows on some of the trees, gave the impression of bright sunlight.  Mixed in with the reds and the evergreens,  it certainly made for a beautiful ride.

The rain stopped last night and today it is totally COLD!  I think earlier the temps were in the 40's with a windchill in the 30's.  Not my favorite kind of day.  This means I am going to have to turn on the gas.  I will have to wait until D gets home because I have not yet mastered the ability to bend my body in 2 different directions while looking back over my shoulder to ascertain if the fireplace is lit.  Maybe at 21 I could have done that.  Not so much at this wonderful age.

However,  the girls and I are all snuggled in.  Lucy and Annie have their Sherpa doggie bed placed on their favorite ottoman,  The 'Shake has herself a perch in the corner,  and The Pirate is wearing a sweatshirt and socks.  Yes, you read that right.  Socks.  You know it must be cold for The Pirate to wear socks.............

Hope everybody else is all snug and toasty warm!

Friday, October 14, 2011

12 years old.......ALREADY?

Today is Emma Rose's birthday.  Her 12th birthday.  How did that happen so fast?  It seems like just a few days ago I was sitting in the rocking chair in their living room, rocking this little girl, and now here she is,  12 years old.

I do have to admit, she still has that mischievous glint in her eyes,  and I'm still never sure just what she is going to say or do,  but I wouldn't have it any other way.  She is her own precious self and she brings me joy every time I see her.

Happy Birthday Emma Rose,  and slow down on the whole growing up thing.  OK?

Friday, October 7, 2011

The Crazies Are Out In Full Force

I've been to the Walmart.  Yes,  I've been to that store that we all LOVE (You do note the sarcasm here.  Right?) and can't wait to return to day after day.

My experience this morning was quite unlike anything I've seen before.  Undoubtedly there is a full moon, or it is National Fight With Your Spouse in the Frozen Food Aisle Day,  or just National Crazy Day in general.

The store was crowded.  Seemingly more crowded than usual,  and it was still early.  Of course,  I've been really, really trying to NOT frequent the Walmart as much so maybe I have forgotten.  It is Friday after all.

I was standing in the frozen food aisle, trying to decide what I needed or wanted for the week.  I hear a couple the next aisle over in an argument.  I actually thought it was a Mom fussing at her teenage son.  Lucky me,  here they came down beside me.  Mom pushing a basket with a toddler in it,  an older child walking,  and Dad,  pushing a basket and an older child was walking behind him.  Apparently Dad couldn't find Mom in the store where he thought she should be and mad doesn't begin to describe it.  She had a few choice words for him and he exploded, right there in the frozen veggie aisle.  The kids were all crying, mom and dad shouting at each other and dad takes his basket and rams in into the back of mom.  If you've ever been hit with one of those things,  you know it can hurt.  At that point,  this Pirate grabs her bag of corn, and hauls herself out of frozen veggies.  I didn't want to see blows flying back and forth.

I got myself checked out,  loaded my groceries into the car,  and slowly began backing out.  A little car comes up behind me and stops.  She wants the space across the aisle from me.  Fine,  I will wait.  She pulls in and apparently decided she didn't fit.  She was in there perfectly by the way, but she backs up slowly, almost backing into me,  and then proceeds to pull her car to the point that it is sitting solidly on the yellow line.  She's then satisfied.

I manage to get out of my parking space, get to the end of the row and am almost mowed down by a man in his 40's, maybe 50's, with salt and pepper hair,  who absolutely HAS to have that parking space reserved for pregnant women.  No,  there is no pregnant woman with him.  He is alone in his big fine Lexus.   He is coming down the aisle the wrong way,  upset with me because I am daring to come out the RIGHT way and he just can't get to that spot.  There is nobody behind me so why he couldn't wait, I have no idea.  He almost hit me trying to back into that spot because I actually had to wait for traffic to go by in front of me!

If  you are trying to go, thinking of going,  or if the thought even just passed through your mind,  that  you might go to Walmart today,  I would suggest waiting.   Maybe wait 2 or 3 years before going.  It's crazy out there...............

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

Life in the 1500's

Here are some facts about the 1500s

Most people got married in June because they took their yearly bath in
May, and they still smelled pretty good by June. However, since they were
starting to smell, brides carried a bouquet of flowers to hide the body odor.
Hence the custom today of carrying a bouquet when getting married.

Baths consisted of a big tub filled with hot water.
The man of the house had the privilege of the nice clean water,
then all the other sons and men, then the women and finally the
children. Last of all the babies.
By then the water was so dirty you could actually lose someone in it.
Hence the saying, "Don't throw the baby out with the Bath water!"

Houses had thatched roofs-thick straw-piled high, with no wood
underneath. It was the only place for animals to get warm, so all the cats and
other small animals (mice, bugs) lived in the roof.
When it rained it became slippery and sometimes the animals would slip
and fall off the roof. Hence the saying, "It's raining cats and dogs."

There was nothing to stop things from falling into the house.
This posed a real problem in the bedroom where bugs and other droppings
could mess up your nice clean bed.
Hence, a bed with big posts and a sheet hung over the top afforded some
protection. That's how canopy beds came into existence.

The floor was dirt. Only the wealthy had something other than dirt.
Hence the saying, "Dirt poor." The wealthy had slate floors that would
get slippery in the winter when wet, so they spread thresh (straw) on floor to help
keep their footing.
As the winter wore on, they added more thresh until, when you opened
the door, it would all start slipping outside. A piece of wood was placed in the
entrance-way. Hence: a thresh hold.

(Getting quite an education, aren't you?)

In those old days, they cooked in the kitchen with a big kettle that
always hung over the fire.
Every day they lit the fire and added things to the pot. They ate
mostly vegetables and did not get much meat. They would eat the
stew for dinner, leaving leftovers in the pot to get cold overnight and then
start over the next day. Sometimes stew had food in it that had been there
for quite a while. Hence the rhyme: “Peas porridge hot, peas porridge cold,
peas porridge in the pot nine days old”.

Sometimes they could obtain pork, which made them feel quite special.
When visitors came over, they would hang up their bacon to show off.
It was a sign of wealth that a man could, "bring home the bacon."
They would cut off a little to share with guests and would all sit around
and chew the fat. 



Those with money had plates made of pewter.
Food with high acid content caused some of the lead to leach onto the
food, causing lead poisoning death. This happened most often with tomatoes,
so for the next 400 years or so, tomatoes were considered poisonous.

Bread was divided according to status. Workers got the burnt bottom of the
loaf, the family got the middle, and guests got the top, or the upper crust.


Lead cups were used to drink ale or whiskey. The combination would sometimes
knock the imbibers out for a couple of days. Someone walking along the road
would take them for dead and prepare them for burial.
They were laid out on the kitchen table for a couple of days and the
family would gather around and eat and drink and wait and see if they
would wake up. Hence the custom; “of holding a wake”.

England is old and small and the local folks started running out of
places to bury people. So they would dig up coffins and would take
the bones to a bone-house, and reuse the grave. When reopening these
coffins, 1 out of 25 coffins were found to have scratch marks on the inside
and they realized they had been burying people alive.
So they would tie a string on the wrist of the corpse, lead it through the coffin
and up through the ground and tie it to a bell.
Someone would have to sit out in the graveyard all night (the graveyard
shift.) to listen for the bell; thus, someone could be, “saved by the bell”
or was “considered a dead ringer”.
And that's the truth.

Who said history was boring?

Sunday, October 2, 2011

Frankie Comes Home


Yesterday,  a young man came home for the last time.  He didn't come home with a big smile on his face.  His family didn't get to jump for joy to see him get off the plane.  He came home in a casket covered with an American flag.  He was 21 years old.  Taken away much too soon.

The reception given to this young man was phenomenal.  It took almost 13 minutes for the entire procession to pass and the highway was lined for miles with people who came out to pay respects and to honor this young man.  Not very many of the people probably knew this young man personally.  Probably some went to school with him,  or played sports with him, but weren't friends on a day to day basis.  They came because this young man paid the ultimate price.  He was fighting for our freedom, which was intruded upon when Frankie was only 11 years old.

I am so proud of Monroe County, Tennessee.  So many times our county is looked upon with disdain  simply because it's in the mountains and the outside world automatically assumes we're "just a bunch of hillbillies".  Yesterday was proof positive that the people of Monroe County are filled with compassion, honor, and thankfulness.  Highway 411 was lined with flags of all sizes.  Flags flew on fence posts, some were simply stuck down in the ground, and others were arranged to write the name of a young man that the county is so proud to call their own.  Flags were held by those lined up to pay their respects and to say good-bye to a young man who gave everything he had to give......including his very life. 

Thank you Lance Cpl Frankie Watson.