This writer is lucky to be here on this dreary Saturday. Yesterday evening while dusting the objects in my bedroom, an accident temporarily knocked some sense in and out of me.
I touched the top of a heavy picture frame. It fell to the floor. The rectangular oak frame that holds a vintage print of a little girl dressed in finery and her St. Bernard struck me on my dizzy dome. It has been years since I felt a smack on my head like that.
The dust cloth and Johnson's Pledge flew across the bed. The blow hurt.
Shards of shattered glass covered the shaggy burgundy carpet in front of a piece of cherry furniture beneath and thereabouts of the old 14x26 inch picture.
The loud noise and a moan or more from yours truly brought Paul and Tootie Mae to my side to investigate.
Then, Tootie found out she had to stay behind the gate until the scene of the accident could be cleaned -up entirely and an assessment of the damages could be made by the boss.
Lucky for me, the top of the generous frame of the picture fell flat against my forehead and more; when the picture landed on the slick top of the chest, it slide off toward the floor and landed upright. In short; no glass pierced my scalp.
After a lengthy head check by Paul Baby, Doc Sartor smoothed the tasseled mane back in place. He assured me I would live and neither cuts, thinned-out blood nor lice could be found. Imagine that! He even dropped the remote long enough to help me tidy-up the mess.
On the, not so, funny side, one must worry about any trauma to the head, how ever minor.
Folks who I have known, did not fare as well as I.
Dad always claimed I am hard- headed. Could it be, I misinterpreted what he meant.
This senior learned a lot through it all. Now all pictures and plaques that hang above our heads are properly mounted securely. Doc Sartor is good with a hammer. He only bummed up his thumb twice this year!
Our youngest granddaughter, Mary Shannon Patrick will be visiting family over the Thanksgiving holiday. Everyone is happy about that. She will stay until Sunday.
Granddaughter, Sarah Peace, Mary's sister, will cook our dinner! I will bake the pies.
According to the 1887 edition of The Original White House Cookbook written by Mrs. F. L. Gillette, the president, first lady and quests and staff enjoyed a hearty dinner that year.
The menu included dishes and desserts unfamiliar to my palate. I decided to add one thing from the large menu to our holiday feast. The decision was tough, but; I chose Hickory Nut Cake. The cake is "most excellent" according to the author.
Though, I have never used powdered mace in anything.
I know it is an aromatic East Indian spice consisting of the dried coverings of the nutmeg. I have a notion to toy with the recipe and substitute. If the cake is "most excellent" this writer will pass it on to you.
Only one thing more I must ponder on "where did I store that darn nutcracker?"
I know it is somewhere lost amid my nuts and bolts and nutty notions. Time is running out. Got go now.
Thanks to the reader of this column that offered help toward solving my computer problems. That was very kind of you and much appreciated.
I can be reached by phone at 446-4852. I will post my new e-mail address when the new service provider's technician checks out the ills of this computer and connects us to the internet properly.
I wish you, my readers Happy Thanksgiving and a joyous holiday season.