Oh, Willy Shakespeare, I do believe this "is" the winter of "my" discontent. There is no twist to this. I am anxiously awaiting springtime: green grass and fragrant blooms, the melodious sounds of beautiful songbirds and warm gentle breezes that come with the season.
I envision a flourishing garden across the way and a neighbor's field planted in acres of corn. I see mole hills and sneaky snakes and turtles. I hear the vocals of 'peepers' in the pit ponds between the spills.
I see me getting off of my lawnmower to salute my beautiful flag and give thanks to the creator of this picture.
I look forward to my children's visits and the wedding of my youngest grandson.
The remnants of the flu-bug that knocked us down a notch or two several days ago are diminishing. Still the wind has not fully returned to our wings.
My grandson Michael Risk and his wife, Kayleigh broke bread with us yesterday. They enjoyed the comfort food, chicken, homemade noodles and tasty sides.
I baked two pie shells, with intentions of filling both of them with creamy fillings.
The noise from the TV, above the refrigerator, in the kitchen, was reaching my ears loud and clear. Paul was doing a commentary on the news of the day. Tootie was wanting to play.
I forgot those perfectly fluted pie crusts in the oven. My nose reminded me. With little time to spare, before my guests arrived; I grabbed my mitts and thrust open the door of the stove. Yep, one was black and crispy and the other was close to a match.
Well, since Mike and Kayleigh Dawn usually approve of most things that I serve; the "best of show" was loaded with a smooth, creamy butterscotch filling. The pie crust cleaned up well.
I received favorable comment on the pie.
My barred rocks were pleased with the charred remains of the other crust. The layers and boss of the henhouse prefer layer crumbles, but they are not picky when it comes to over -baked goods.
Tootie turned two-years-old this past week. We weren't quite sure what we should give the little dachshund on the occasion, because; Tootie Mae destroys most toys, especially if they contain stuffing.
She chews and pulls the material until she makes entry and a meal out of her find. So, we purchased a couple of critters absent of stuffing, but with noise makers in the heads and the tips of their tails.
First we gave her the raccoon. She was delighted, carried the fluffy toy about, hid it, retrieved it and repeated the action several times.
We were happy that she loved it so much. Finally, little Tootie had a playmate.
I don't know how her new-found friend offended her, but whatever came out of that noise maker sent her teeth straight to the source. The little canine removed the head of that poor raccoon.
I am sure the bird dog will love a second-handed toy this spring. He is an undertaker, a grave digger and grave robber.
She rejected the plastic squeakers, thank goodness for that, but she chewed up and swallowed most of the soft plushy face. I think the skunk's days are numbered, too.
I reckon that animals are somewhat like some people. I have been watching a show that features folks with strange eating habits.
For example, a lady eats laundry detergent. In another show that deals with forensic science, the examiner found a giant hairball in the stomach of a female corpse.
She chewed on and consumed her own hair. Fact is the human body cannot digest hair. It looked like a huge ball of kite string, nowhere near a lock to tie a shiny ribbon on and save. I don't believe it was the cause of the lady's demise, but surely it compromised the stomach's capacity for food intake.
Closer to home, during my childhood, my mother craved white Farmer's Pride flour. Every day she would eat a heaping spoonful or two of the powdery stuff. No one questioned her strange habit. Not many folks knew, not even Dr. Weaver and other health providers.
Her nosy little girls and the bin in her old white Hoosier cabinet held her secret.
Mother became very ill one year and the doctor saw the need to admit her to the hospital. We thought she would not be coming home to us.
Mom was given several tests and the diagnosis was pernicious anemia. She stayed a few days, received blood transfusions and B12.
In the days that followed and proper medical care for her condition and regular injections, mother regained her strength.
I am not sure if the flour was consumed, because of a lack of something that her body needed, but after she regained her health we never saw her feed her flour habit again.
I am glad my mobile teeth can't handle the Juicy Fruit gum anymore. Yes, I kicked the habit.
I can be reached by phone at 812- 446-4852 or by email at firstname.lastname@example.org.