I was expecting the sun to shine today, but that is not going to happen.
I heard a few geese winging their way aloft.
The cloud cover hid the waterfowl from view.
This nature lover stood in the path that leads into the heart of my woods and listened to something, perhaps bigger than me, disturbing the tree branches and ground clutter.
I hid behind a tall walnut tree and waited.
What could it be?
Soon, before I could say, "Granny, get your gun," four beautiful white-tailed deer ambled across the footpath, stopped in their tracks and stared directly at me.
They stood like upright stones and I observed in awe.
All too soon, they spooked. The deer hooves sprouted wings and majestic animals flew.
The snowy white undersurfaces of their dancing tails clearly visible as they exited, out of my scope of view.
They weren't exactly the rays of sunshine that I was looking for, but I smiled all the way back to the little blue house at the end of the road.
Tootie Mae was not interested in my sightings. She was more interested in hugs and a treat.
My sister processed pumpkins and squash that a generous neighbor gave her last week. Today, she not only shared the orange fruit of the vine with me, along with the frozen packages of smooth pulp, were three packages of partially dried seeds.
When fully dried, I will store the white treasures until next planting season.
I prefer the Cushaw (green and gold), a less fibrous, smooth textured winter squash that is preferred by some bakers and I, likewise, instead of pie pumpkin.
They are excellent as a substitute for mashed potatoes.
She included the French Heirloom Cinderella pumpkin seeds, a variety less familiar to this old gardener.
The depth of the ribbing of the skin and deep orange color of the flesh are notable characteristics of the fruit, and more, the pumpkin reminds us and resembles the pumpkin that Cinderella's godmother transformed into a carriage.
The Pilgrims must have appreciated the variety of pumpkin as well, because they served the Cinderella at their second Thanksgiving dinner.
Dad raised many pumpkins and squash in his garden spots, during his lifetime.
In fact, he raised squash of various colors, long, short, perfectly round and oddball.
My father enjoyed the challenge of producing them so well.
A hobby became a profitable seasonal business, a family project.
He won a few contests with the large Big Max pumpkins.
Some folks at Centerville, Ohio, and at the seed company where he purchased the seeds can attest to that.
The hand-fed fruits of labors were winners and so was the man with the plan.
This Thanksgiving, I shall add pumpkin pie, a traditional favorite, to my dinner party menu.
Talk about dinner party, Paul and I were invited to a dinner party/wedding reception, to honor the recent marriage of our eldest daughter, Starla Gail Sartor-May, and her new husband Bruce May, of Scottsdale, Ariz.
The party will take place in December.
The event is hosted by our granddaughter, Lindsay Terry and her husband Matthew Terry, of Indianapolis.
The evening out will begin at the Terry's home, where stretch limos will transport guests to the upscale grill, "Harry & Izzy's," a place that can be compared to St. Elmo's Steakhouse.
Now, this old country girl has her work cut out for her.
I don't think I should use my pink sponge rollers for this one.
I reckon the faux leopard coat will stay in the closet this time, too.
Granny is going glam.
Time spent away from the usual grind will be nice and an opportunity to be in the company of family, if for only a little while, always make our heart sing.
Thanks to all that sent the nice e-mails this week and the readers that talked to Paul at the store about my ramblings.
This writer hopes this holiday season will bring joy and peace to everyone.
I can be reached by phone at 446-4852 or by e-mail at email@example.com.