November 23, 2015

Hi y’all,

I truly hope you are happy and healthy.

My current desktop photo is an early morning shot of the dam.

I haven’t been running outside for a couple of weeks now. I have discovered that I am not a cold weather runner. When the temps drop below 45 degrees, I’d rather run on the treadmill. And I hate running on the treadmill. Well, I shouldn’t say that. I was perfectly happy running on the treadmill until I started running outside. Now I find running on the treadmill boring-which I combat by reading and not thinking about what I might be missing outside. Reading on the treadmill...that’s a good thing. I love to read. Temperature controlled climate...that’s a good thing too. I don’t like to be cold. But missing out on shots like my current desktop photo...that’s a very bad thing. I love this shot of Bagnell Dam. I think I’ll have a 24x36 canvas print of it made.



We had snow here this past week. At least three inches but Mike thinks we got more than that.

“Peg, where are our snow photos?” you ask.

I’m so glad you asked!

It didn’t take me long to hook up Itsy and Ginger, grab my camera and go looking for pretty snow pictures. In fact, it was still snowing when I went out.

 

 I like this shot of our iconic Indian, here on the Strip, in the softly falling snow. I have another shot of him that I really like too, but instead of using my space to show you two photos of the same thing-even if they are two different views-I’m going to show a landscape that I like a lot too.

 

This was taken the next day-when it wasn’t snowing-along with three other landscape photos that I picked out to show you. But I won’t show them here either, at least not right now.

How about this one?

Can you see him?

These guys are much easier to spot now, sitting in the bare trees along the highways, than they are in the summer time. I took a photo of a polar bear in the gently falling snow too, and I like the shot-once I edited out the power lines-but I won’t show you two animal photos either, even if the bear wasn’t a real one, or maybe especially since he wasn’t a real one.

Instead, how about one of three Winter Flower photos I picked out to show you? They look like stars in the snow, don’t you think?

So there you have it. There you have a variety of photos I’ve taken this past week. I think I’ve covered most every category except maybe nude.

“Nude!” you exclaim. “Peg! This is a family letter! No nudes!”

Okay! Okay! She wasn’t really nude anyway, but I’ll tell you what. I was so surprised to be coming home from my Saturday morning run and seven o’clock in the morning see a gal wearing nothing but a tank top and a pair of panties, walking around on the front deck of a local watering hole-talking on a cell phone!

Did she have too much too drink and sleep there? I wonder. It was a pretty mild night last night. Then I see some clothes laying on the ground behind a parked SUV. Maybe she fouled herself and took her clothes off, I think. And guess she may have slept in the parked vehicle.

“Mike, you won’t believe what I just saw,” I said to Mike as soon as I walked through the door a few minutes later. Then I told him. Guys always seem to perk up when you talk about girls walking around in their panties, don’t they. I didn’t put a question mark there because guess what? It’s not a question!

About ten minutes later our friend Margaret, a regal lady of 88-89 on December 7th!-pulled in the parking lot for our long standing Saturday Morning Breakfast at The Golden Corral.

“Let’s go down the Strip and see if she’s still there,” I suggested as we joined Margaret in the van.

Well, she was. She was sitting at one of the tables in front of the closed bar and grill and as we were passing, she stood up! Can you believe that? If it had been me, I’d have been hiding someplace! Like behind one of the stools. Not much coverage but better than being half naked in public! But she didn’t hide. She stood up, looked right at us, flipped her hair back over her shoulder and started walking around. Just like that! I couldn’t believe it.

“Maybe we should see if she needs some help,” I said.

“She was on a cell phone, remember?” Mike said.

Oh. Yeah. She could have called for help if she needed it.

After our breakfast and chat-fest with all of the regulars and staff of the Golden Corral, catching up on everyone’s news from the past week, we piled back into Margaret’s van and headed for home.

“Let’s see if she’s still there,” I said as we neared the Strip. “And if she is, I think we should stop and see if she needs some help.” But she was gone, the clothes were gone and the only thing left behind was the white SUV.



Last week I used the word ‘decadent’, do you remember? I said something to the effect that Dream Bars are decadent tasting but oh so easy to make. When I wrote that last week I wondered if I had spelled decadent correctly. Sometimes I write the wrong word, but I bet you never notice, do you? So if there is any doubt in my mind, I use the dictionary on my letter writing program and make sure I have the write word...just kidding. Right word.

I was surprised when I pulled up decadent and found out it meant in decline; immoral. That doesn’t sound anything like what I thought decadent meant. It didn’t sound anything like the way I wanted to use the word decadent either. Maybe I am just spelling it wrong. I’ve done that before. But every time I tried varying the letters it brought me right back to decadent. So what did I do? I did what I always do when I have a problem.

“You called your mother?” you guess.

Yes, I called my mother. We had a big long discussion on decadent, and of course she knew what it meant, but could I use it the way I wanted to?

She wasn’t sure and she needed to think about it for a minute.

“Where did I get that idea that decadent meant rich tasting?” I asked Momma. But she didn’t know.

It wasn’t long after I talked with her that I needed a break from writing and I jumped up on the internet and guess what I found in my Inbox? A recipe for chocolate pudding.

Decadent Chocolate Pudding. It read. Go ahead, indulge! We understand! Our recipe for Decadent Chocolate Pudding is so luxuriously rich and creamy, it’s hard to resist falling in love with this dessert.

I called Momma back and read this to her. “But it doesn’t say decadent tasting...can I say decadent tasting?”

“I think so,” she allowed.

“Well, if it’s wrong, someone will let me know,” I said to her. But you guys never do. Mostly I think you are just happy to get a letter from me and that you wouldn’t even think about complaining about the little things. Sometimes Momma will point out to me when I’ve written a wrong word, like I wrote road once when I meant rode.

“I read it the way you mean it,” Momma told me and I believe that is what most of you do.

 

 

Now, speaking of remembrances, do you remember last year when I spent hours photographing the cedar waxwings feeding on wild grapes? On my run this morning I see the grapes are all gone. I missed it. And that made me a little sad. I was hoping to see it again this year. Then I remembered that I have lived here for a lot of years. That I have been walking this route for a lot of years and I’ve only ever seen it once.

Count your blessings, me reminds myself.

Something else that I noticed is gone is the black vultures. At first, when I didn’t see them roosting where they usually roost, I thought they may have already flown the coop-so to speak-for the day and were off somewhere where I couldn’t see them. But it’s been nearly a month now and even though I didn’t run outside for a couple of those weeks, I’m convinced they decided to go south for the winter. Do they do that? I’ll have to google it and see.

I heard back from the ombudsmen regarding the droppings of a couple of weeks ago. He thinks it was left by a raccoon, possibly, and the seeds were those of persimmons. Here I thought persimmons had tiny little seeds. That shows to go ya that I have not eaten one myself, but guess what I’m going to do now. Yep. Open one up. Maybe I’ll even eat it, you never know. And just this morning, on my run, I spotted another persimmon tree loaded with fruit.



Something that has been on my list to talk about for several weeks now is the kitten that I gave to Momma’s caregiver, Marilyn.

“I got to hold her the other day,” Momma told me. “She has the softest fur!” And I know exactly what she means. One of the first kittens we had gotten from Mama Kat had the softest fur. Since this one is a descendant of the same mother, I can imagine how it feels.

Jenny, Marilyn’s daughter, has been taking care of the kitten. Jenny has a young son, two-years-old now, and Jenny has evicted all animals from her house. All of them that is, except this new little one that she is taking care of. “Hayden and the kitten have bonded and the kitten even sleeps with him,” Momma told me. I bet that is one cute picture.

I just was happy to hear the kitten is still alive.

 

I finished this jigsaw puzzle this week. One piece missing. The eternal optimist in me thinks I may find it on the floor yet. Just because I did look and didn’t find it doesn’t mean it isn’t there. I can always hope can’t I?

 

I started a new puzzle but I haven’t been able to work on it very much. You see, I have a new project on the table, on top of the puzzle. I keep the puzzle under Plexiglas to prevent the cats from taking pieces or puking on it.

My new project is decorating my cabinets with reindeer, snowmen, birds, trees. Mike bought me a new cartridge for my Cricut machine, Winter Wonderland, and I’m having a lot of fun playing with it.

Kevin came in after work this past Friday and looked at my cabinets. Andrew is the only name I’ve put up. “I guess we know who’s important around here, don’t we?” I joked with Kevin.

“I can see that!”

Let’s call this one done,

Lots and lots of love,

Peg and Mike

Sunday, November 16, 2014

Hi everyone!

My current desktop photo is me standing with my beautiful cousin Stephanie in front of Bagnell Dam.

 

Stephanie’s mother Lorraine and I are first cousins, born in the same year to sisters Marie and Dorothy.

 That makes Steph-and correct me if I’m wrong!-that makes Steph and me first cousins once removed. Meaning one generation removed. My children and Steph are second cousins, right?

And that is a short genealogy of the family.

Steph has traveled all over the world. She’s been to places I’ll probably never go and she has seen some fabulous vistas that I’ll never see. The drawback to not being a world traveler.

“I think I get my adventurous spirit from your mom,” Steph told me during the course of our visit, “because my mom’s not adventurous at all and Gram wasn’t adventurous either and your mom has traveled a lot.”

I smiled, thinking of the family lines and said, “It could be! You come from the same blood.”

Steph is a Guide Dog Mobility Instructor for Guide Dogs For The Blind and part of her job is field support to the people-and dogs-that have graduated from their program. And that is why she was in the area. I am so pleased that Stephanie took the time to stop and visit with me and Mike. We may be related but I had never met this lovely young lady before.

Steph is just about a month older than my oldest son and once I started my family, I didn’t get back to her part of the country for the next twenty years or so. By the time I did, Stephanie was gone off to college or had already moved to California where she presently lives with her husband Spencer and dog Pete.

And before I go any further, I want to point out that I used the word ‘lovely’ very deliberately here. It means beautiful and pleasing; delightful; caring. All of those things describe the woman I met this past week. Oh! And we can add polite to that list too. This poor girl missed lunch and never said a word to me about it! I could have offered her a sandwich or something but did I do that? No!

I am just sure that all of my relatives are either rolling over in their grave or tisking under their breath! You never went to their houses without being offered food! I am ashamed of myself and sorry I let the tradition down.

But in my defense, you have to remember that I am me!

Not much of a defense is it?

It isn’t that it wasn’t in my heart to offer Stephanie a meal, it’s that I thought, since she wouldn’t be here until 3:30 in the afternoon, that she would have stopped some place on the road and had lunch.

Assumptions hardly ever turn out good for me.

I really wanted to take Steph to Ha Ha Tonka State Park to see the castle ruins but considering our schedule, there wasn’t time. However, it gives me the opportunity to show you this vintage photo.

 It was taken there, at the park, many years ago. Mike is standing in the back with my first-born, Christopher. My mother, standing front and center, is flanked by Kat, my daughter, on the right (as you look at the photo) and Chris’s first wife, Angie, mother of my handsome grandson Cody, is on the left. All three beautiful women-then and now!

“We can take her to Wilmore Lodge and drive around The Dam,” Mike said. He always comes up with great ideas!

I gave Steph our address for the GPS (global positioning satellite) never thinking twice about it. When she got here I got a text from her, “Are we meeting at Wok & Roll?” I smiled when I read that. Of course she wouldn’t have known how to find us when she got here. We live in a parking lot, above a business and even if she had known all that, the gate at the bottom of my stairwell is kept locked. She couldn’t have gotten to my door to knock on it anyway, even if she had known where it was!

But anyway, there I was, anxiously awaiting Steph’s arrival when Mike called me on the phone. “You want to come down and sit with us?” he asked.

Mike and Gary, our maintenance man, were sitting out back enjoying the sunshine from the last nice day we’ve had since then! But I didn’t know it was to be our last nice day for a while. Not then anyway.

“Sure!” I said thinking I’d take the girls out to pee, get that out of the way, and besides it would help to kill the time until Steph got here. So when she texted me, “Are we meeting at Wok & Roll?” I was already downstairs. Mike and I walked around front to meet Steph and I have to tell you. I loved her right off. She hugs you!

“Peg, what’s the big deal about that?” you ask.

Sometimes, when I am given a hug, it is a prissy little... “Oh. If I must,” type of haunty-eyed, flick-of-the-wrist kind of dismissive hug. Like air kisses. Done for the sake of and not out of any real emotion. Perfunctory! That’s the word I’m looking for!

Do you know what I do when someone tries to perfunctorily hug me?

No?

I say, “Aw! Come on! Hug me like you love me!” That will usually elicit a laugh and a squeeze. Sometimes a little one, sometimes a big one. And that just show’s to go ya how I am. But then I have to always remind myself that there are people in this world that are not like me. Maybe they have touching issues and a hug is pure torture for them? Maybe they are 93 years old and they are very tender and delicate.

Bob Barker became afraid contestants would hurt him, in their enthusiasm to be on The Price Is Right. If someone forgot and went charging at him to hug him or shake his hand, (I think they were warned ahead of time not to) you could see the fear in Bob’s eyes as he held up a hand and backed away. Do you remember that! LOL! Maybe my age is showing again.

Then again maybe the reason someone is not a hugger is somewhere in the middle. Regardless, I wouldn’t want to cause anyone harm, either mentally or physically. So I try to be respectful.

I didn’t know what to expect from this young woman-who is a relation of mine and yet a stranger.

Should I hug her? I wondered. Take your cue from her, was what I finally decided to do.

When Steph got out of her car, she wanted to hug “Give me a hug,” she said with a huge smile and a little laugh.

And that’s all it took! We hugged, she’s a good hugger, and she’s family.

“Come on upstairs,” I said inviting her into our home. “I made you cookies.” That’s what I call Dream Bars. Cookies.

“Yay!” she said. “I love cookies!”

Uh-ooh, I immediately thought. I might be misleading by calling them cookies, “Well, they’re kind of a cookie,” I mumbled as I headed for the stairs. We went up to the efficiency apartment that Mike and I live in and we sat at the table and had tea and cookies and a wonderful visit.

Having already assumed Steph would have eaten, I wanted to have a little something-something for her so I did make Dream Bars. Coconut, nuts, brown sugar, butter, decadent tasting but oh so easy to make. Then I got to thinking how I used to make and send Sour Cream Sugared Nuts to Stephanie’s grandmother at Christmas time. I had all the stuff to make it and it was one of Aunt Marie’s favorites, and I could never make it for my beloved Aunt Marie again...so I made them for her!

Mike sat with us long enough to have some cookies and sugared nuts then he had gotten called away on business. When he returned he called me from downstairs, “Are you ready to go up to the Lodge?” he asked. He doesn’t make unnecessary trips up and down the stairs.

“As soon as we finish our tea,” I told him, “we’ll be down.”

Mike waited for us and when we went down we piled in the Jeep and drove up to Wilmore Lodge which houses a museum dedicated to the building of the dam as well as the Chamber of Commerce. Then we drove to the scenic overlook where Mike took this photo of us,

then we drove down below dam and checked out the storyboards and wildlife. There were pigeons living in holes in the concrete retaining wall.

 It was funny to look down and see a pigeon coming out of the wall. There were gars swimming close to the surface of the water so we got to see those too. There was even a small paddlefish, belly-up, trapped against a rock where the current kept it pinned. No picture of that, sorry.

Mike and I had decided to take Steph to a restaurant here named Baxter’s for dinner that evening but unfortunately, Baxter’s is closed on Monday’s and that was when she was here. So we decided to go to Margaret’s favorite restaurant, Bentley’s.

　

　


Bentley’s is a British themed restaurant and there are nine brothers and sisters who own it, but most are silent partners. I just love the Scallops Newburg that they make. Scallops baked in a light cream sauce and topped with bread crumbs and parmesan cheese. Mmmmm. I’m sure it’s not diet but I don’t get it that often that I have to worry about it. After eating a nice fresh salad and a warm dinner roll with real butter, not to mention a glass of wine, I couldn’t eat all of my scallops or broccoli, the vegetable of the day, which was cooked perfect but was the size of a small tree on my side plate.

“Can I get you a box,” the little gal who’s job it was to fill water glasses and box up the leftovers asked of me.

“Sure,” I answered, but truth be known, she was rushing it a bit. I was still working on it when she asked.

“You want the broccoli too?” she asked.

“Yes please,” I said thinking it would be just fine warmed up for lunch the next day.

She turned to Steph, eyeing her remaining half dish of Shrimp Scampi, “How about you? Can I get you a box for that?”

“No, thanks. I’m going to try to finish it,” she replied.

She took my plates and disappeared into the back to box it.

“This is really good,” Steph said, “and I missed lunch, so I was really hungry.”

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry! I didn’t even offer you anything to eat!” I was near mortified.

“Yes you did,” both Steph and Mike said at the same time and laughed a little. “You made me cookies,” Steph said as Mike was saying, “You made her cookies.” Again we all laughed.

“Yeah but that’s not real food,” I said.

Steph flashed me one of her beautiful smiles and said, “It was perfect, I loved it.”

Having been in business for nearly four decades, Bentley’s does many things right and one of Margaret’s and my favorites is their coffee. “Let’s have coffee,” I said to Steph. “Do you drink coffee?” I didn’t even pause for an answer. “They make the best coffee here.”

“Yes, I’ll have coffee,” she answered and we ordered it from Merrill, our favorite waiter, although I should be honest and tell you that all of the wait staff there are really excellent. Professional, polite and attentive.

As we lingered over our coffee, I asked a question that had been niggling at the back of mind. And if you know me, you know exactly how this question came out. No preamble, just put out there. “Are you here because of my letters?”

Either shocked, prepared for the question, or just plain honest, Stephanie never hesitated a moment as she flatly answered. “Yes.”

I grinned real big. It is a wonderful, pleasing side effect of letter writing. People who read me, know me. My letters make you feel connected, you know what I mean?

“It’s like visiting,” I was told by Michael’s Aunt Mae.

“Your Grammy once told me that when my letter came in the mailbox, nothing else got done until she read it,” I told Steph. What a delightful compliment Aunt Marie paid me when she said that. One that I still remember all these years later. And Uncle Clarence?

I didn’t tell Steph but our very handsome Uncle Clarence once told me that he really liked getting a letter from me every week. I laughed and I can still see the mischievous twinkle in his eye as he leaned conspiringly toward me and asked, “And you know what the best part is?”

I shook my head.

“I don’t have to pay a subscription fee to get it!” To this day, in my mind’s eye, I can see the glee on his handsome face as he leaned back in his chair, threw his head back, crossed his arms across his belly and laughed. In my mind’s ear I can still hear his wonderful laughter. He did like a good joke.



One of my favorite things to do on Sunday mornings is make scrambled eggs for Mike’s and my breakfast. It is the only morning that I ever bother with it. Last Sunday, a week gone by now, I decided to put broccoli in the scrambled eggs and upon inspecting my freezer, I discovered I didn’t have any. But I did have spinach. That will be good, I thought and got the spinach out.

Now, don’t forget that I am me, okay?

If I had had broccoli, I would have thawed it in the microwave so I could cut it up. But seeings how the spinach was already chopped, I skipped the microwave step. What a mistake that was!

I got the iron skillet out of the oven-where it stays when not in use, put it on the burner, put a little canola oil in it and chopped an onion while I waited for the oil to get hot. Once I finished chopping the onion, I scraped it from the plate into the hot iron skillet and was rewarded with the sound of a nice sizzle. Then I put the frozen spinach in.

Can you guess what happened?

The spinach started to pop and crackle and pretty soon everything in a two mile radius was covered with flecks of spinach! I knew then that I had made a mistake, but I really thought it would thaw pretty quickly and stop. Well, every time I stirred it, it popped and crackled and spit spinach all over the place again! Finally I thought to put a lid on it, but boy-oh-boy, how I wished I’d have thawed my spinach first!

I sent the photograph of the bird in last weeks letter to the ombudsmen at the Missouri Department of Conservation. He said it is a Carolina Wren.

So this week I sent him the poopy picture and asked him about the seeds and maybe if he knew what kind of animal left it behind. He asked me to tell him more about the poop. Where it was, was there more of it? Then he would work on the seeds. So maybe next week I’ll be able to tell you that!

Let’s do December birthdays, shall we?

Christopher Matthew Kraft, 1^st; Charles Francis Bowers, 4^th; Margaret Spurrier, 7^th; Andrew Lewis Kraft, 10^th; Justin L. Soden, 11^th; Saralee Love, 14^th; Shannon Smith Flowers, 15^th; Diane Bowers Illo, 16^th; Brianna Marie Soden, 18^th; Rachel Irene Kriebel, 18^th; Elizabeth Nancy Burns, 19^th; Susan Merritt, 21^st; Danielle Rose Bowers, 25^th.

Additions? Corrections? Let me know!

Happy birthday everyone!

Lots and lots of love,

Peg and Mike

Sunday, November 9, 2014

Hello, hello, hello!

These photos have all graced my desktop this past week. We have a leftover from Halloween. See the skeleton?

Next is a morning photo of the dam. I really liked how the sun was reflecting on the window glass and the surface of the water, but I don’t think my photo does it justice.

The last and current desktop photo is a bird. I don’t know what kind of bird he is, but he was really scolding me!

“Google it!” I hear you say and I did. I spent a good half hour trying to find out what kind of bird it is, but I didn’t have any luck. I know what he is not. He is not a sparrow. The beak is all wrong to be any kind of sparrow.

But I did find out that the black faced vultures that I showed you a couple of times now are just that, Black Vultures. The ones with the red faces are Turkey Vultures and are more common than the Black Vultures. At least that is what the Missouri Department of Conservation says on their website.

And I also found out that the woodpecker I had been calling a Northern Flicker is identified as a Red Bellied Woodpecker on the mdc.mo.gov website, so my search wasn’t entirely fruitless.



I haven’t been walking Itsy and Ginger as much lately. Partly because we have been working on our painting job on the nice days and who wants to go walking when it’s not nice out? That and the days are getting shorter so after supper is cleared away and washed up, the light is fading and if I do go out, it’s too dark to leave the Strip.

We did have an early day of it on one particularly nice day this past week and that was when I took the pictures of the bird scolding us. Itsy and Ginger were so good. They didn’t bark or fuss or anything the whole time the bird was yelling at us. I wish they were that way all the time, but they’re not.

 Like when they heard this little doe go through the underbrush, they barked. First one starts then the other joins in. “STOP!” I admonish. “You’re scaring her!” They quieted down but the only shot I got of the doe was as she watched from behind the tree, her hind quarters catching a few rays of the setting sun.

Speaking of shots I didn’t get....

They barked at this squirrel too. By the time I got him in my frame he was in his nest and all you can see is the top of his fuzzy tail. LOL!

The Bittersweet is pretty this time of year.

And the wild grapes...

I smiled when I saw the smiley face on the grape in the middle of the frame. See him? Two little white eyes, a black speck for a nose and a great big smile?

I’ll make it bigger for Momma. Can you see it now?

The next photo is for that beautiful neighbor lady of mine in Pennsylvania. Stephanie, how long has it been since I’ve written a poop story?

Too long?
Well, you’re in for a real treat then!

Here’s the thing. I don’t know what kind of animal pooped this out right there on the road like that but look at those seeds, would ya! They are easily three quarters of an inch long! I can’t think of what was eaten that has seeds that large.

You know something?

The vegetation along the roadsides here can be so thick that you can’t see very far into at all. Now that summer has passed into fall all of the litter is visible again.

Sometimes I think I’ll pick it up, but then the urge passes. I have enough to juggle with two dogs and a camera, let alone trying to carry a garbage bag and pick up the trash to boot. Not to mention poison ivy. I can spot it when it has leaves on it, but even without leaves you can still get poison ivy. I don’t want poison ivy.

I started taking pictures of what was left of that McDonalds bag of a couple of weeks ago and I snapped a photo of this cup. Isn’t it funny that we can recognize the logo just from the little bit that is showing?

We have two new construction projects going on on our block. All of the feral cats around here make the construction guys mad. The cats mess on their lumber and use the dirt in the construction area as a litter box.

A couple of days ago I was out back with Itsy and Ginger and on the other side of the fence was Dale talking on his cell phone. Dale is the boss and as he entered his construction trailer (the door was wide open) I heard him yell and either stomp his foot or slapped something down. “GIT OUTTA HERE!” I heard him yell so I turned to look.

“Damn cats!” he says coming back out with the phone still stuck to his head.

“What?” I asked.

“That cat was up on the counter eating our meat!” he said.

“In our house we don’t leave food unattended,” I told him.

“Dam cat! We had half a rotisserie chicken left!”

“You expected the cats to resist that?” I asked, but Dale was already headed over to the job site and I heard him yell at one of his guys. “I hope you didn’t want any of that chicken...”

I just smiled and walked away. Heck! I’m not sure I could have resisted it if I had known it was there! I love rotisserie chicken!

This handsome guy is Mike. His building site is still in the early stages but I have seen him out there working by himself several times.

The first time I saw him I thought his crew had the day off because it started off rainy and he was working by himself during the clear patches.

Another time I saw him working by himself it was late at night. After six. I thought it was too late for his crew to be working.

Then a couple of days ago, he’s again working by himself. It’s not raining. It’s not late. Where was his crew?

“You’re working by yourself?” I called as I approached.

“Yeah, I get more done that way,” he said.

“I’m going to send my Mike down and can you show him how that’s done? He thinks everything is a two-man job!”

He just laughed and went back to work.

Guys, you are all in my heart.

Let’s call this one done!

Lots and lots of love,

Peg and Mike

Sunday, November 2, 2014

Hello my loves,

Here it is November! I told you. Time is passing way too quickly to suit me!

My current desktop photo is my two best guys sitting in Pop-pops recliner, The Beast, playing with Grammy’s Nook. I just took this photo last night as Andrew came to spend some time with us. More on that later.

I have discovered a love for the morning light that I didn’t know I had. Mostly because I am not much of a morning person. But since carrying my camera on my runs with me, morning shots have dominated my desktop photos. And the next two shots are morning shots.

The sun breaking through the morning mist coming off the Osage River was up for most of the week.

Bagnell Dam with the buzzards in the foreground was up for just a little while, but I like the shot and I wanted to show it to you.

The buzzards are getting used to me. I talk to them as I approach and they just sit and watch me pass by now.

My biggest accomplishment this past week was to put my weight machine together. I opened the box, unwrapped all the pieces and laid them out. I sat back on my heels and surveyed the parts scattered all over the living room floor and the task seemed overwhelming!

I took a deep breath.

I opened the instruction book...

...and had a good laugh. It was all in pictures. They know that guys won’t read it anyway, don’t they?

I hadn’t intended to put it together by myself but I started it knowing Mike would help me when I needed him too. As it turned out, I didn’t need all that much help. I just kept going, step by step, taking my time and figuring things out as I went along. Mike helped me get the right ratchet and I couldn’t figure out how the shroud that covered the weights went on and he helped with that too but other than that....I did it all by myself! It took me about five hours over the course of two evenings but I did it! Yay me!

Since then, I’ve been trying to work out a routine, but I believe this machine was designed for a man and some of the exercises don’t work all that well for me. They just feel awkward. But it was cheap and compact and we had to have both of those things and this fit the bill.

In the very least, there are several exercises that I can do and anything is better than nothing, don’t you think?

That cat!

That darn cat!

Yeah, we’re talking about Baby Blue!

I gave Itsy and Ginger a bath and hair cuts last week. Itsy doesn’t look all that different, but I cut Ginger’s hair a lot shorter. Before I can get things cleaned up and put away, look who got on the table and climbed in the clipper storage bag

and curled up for a nap.

Yep. Baby Blue!

Anything new that comes in the house, or if something is out of place, Baby Blue knows it and she claims it as her own. And that includes my weight machine!

Something else that came new into the house this week is a child’s tea set. I would rather that it weren’t lavender and pink, more gender neutral colors would have suited me better but they only had the one color scheme. Besides, we teach our children that pink is for girls and blue is for boys, it isn’t anything they inherently know.

When Andrew stays with us he likes to climb in my big old sink and play with the water and pour it from one container into another. I can always manage to find him a few things to play with but I thought I’d like to get him a few things more in his size. I saw this play set at Menard’s and it was only $12.

Mike let me buy it for Andrew, but he has been having a ball at my expense every since then. He’s been asking people if they would buy a tea set for a boy. Of course they say no, but one of the guys sitting there when he asked the question was a chef. He’s still playing with dishes!

Our friend Margaret pointed out that her great-granddaughter plays tea with her brothers and they play with her! It doesn’t make boys sissies-or anything else!

Oh. That reminds me. Mike and I are going to be great-grandparents. My oldest son Christopher’s daughter Julie, who has been married for almost a year now, is expecting a child in May of 2015.

Andrew did play with the dishes for a long time. Then we took them to the sink and washed them in nice hot soapy water and Andrew stood on Grammy’s step stool and rinsed the dishes for me. Okay, okay. Maybe he just played in the water but I thanked him just the same for helping me with the dishes.

Then he sat up to the table and had his dinner. A chicken nugget, Oreo cookie and milk. I don’t think he ate any of his chicken nugget but he spent a long time cutting it into pieces. He did eat an Oreo cookie-Yeah! Who doesn’t like Oreo’s-and drank quite a bit of milk. Andrew enjoyed learning how to pour his own milk and after spilling it a little at first, he started to understand about the milk coming out of the spout and wasn’t spilling hardly any of it by the time he was done.

After we ate and cleaned up we bundled up and took the dogs for a walk.

We didn’t go very far, just up the street to the iconic Indian. Andrew is in awe of the Indian and he will stand in front of it and just look at it. I don’t know what he is thinking about or what he is trying to figure out, but I let him be. I just let him stand and stare as long as he needs to.

“Andrew,” I said and Andrew turned and looked at me. “Sit on his foot and let me take your picture.” I said. Andrew is so stinkin’ smart. I didn’t have to say it any more than that one time. He turned around and sat on the Indian’s foot and waited until I snapped off a few shots, then he stood up. Just like that. He always amazes me.

I saw this handsome buck on my run one morning this past week. The thought that someone will try to kill him (deer season opens this month) makes me sad.

He was with his doe and when they heard me coming they split up.

“It’s okay,” I told her. “Go join your buck.”

I know, it’s weird that I talk to animals, but you know what? She crossed the road and joined her buck.

 

In honor of Halloween, I wanted to show you this spooky, spider web infested, dead tree last week.

I didn’t get that done.

It was awesome!

Lots and lots of love,

Peg and Mike