Brags

           All I can do this week is brag about how blessed I am — and who wants to hear a braggard? Nobody! That’s who!

          “Well, Peg, if you were gonna brag, what would you brag about?” you ask.

          I’d brag about how special my friends make me feel when they make me gifts. And how happy it makes me when they love the things I make for them in return.

          Last year, I made Santas. I don’t know how many I made and gave away. All I know is that one sat on my counter all year, in pieces, because I only cut it from the glass and never finished it. And poor Joanie never got her 2020 Santa.

This year, I finished the Santa and remembered why I pooped out making them. With all their tiny pieces, they’re a pain!

Christmas Eve, at church, I gave Joanie her 2020 Santa and her 2021 elf. Her beautiful face lit up when she saw them. You can’t fake that. She loved them. Then her face fell. “I didn’t get you anything,” she said.

          Her loving what I’d taken the time to make was all the gift I needed. “That’s okay!” I told her and meant it. “I’m just sorry you had to wait a whole year for your Santa.”

         “It was worth the wait,” she said.

          Joan doesn’t know it. Doesn’t know what a joy and inspiration she is to have in my life. We talk via morning love notes every day. She faces obstacles that would cause an ordinary woman to fall, crushed and weeping at its feet. And she always manages to come through bearing a ray o’sunshine.

          I gave this beautiful lady her elf at church, too. She was surprised to get it and I’ll tell you why. Jody stopped by in the afternoon to give me a gift. “I’m working on your elf now but I might not have it done,” I told her.

“That’s all right. I never take them down anyway,” she said.

My beautiful sister Phyllis is the same way. She leaves all of her suncatchers up all the time. Not my Miss Rosie, though. Coordinating her clothes with her shoes and her jewelry aren’t the only things she likes to coordinate. Her house is coordinated too. Down comes Halloween and up goes Christmas. Down comes Christmas, up goes Valentine's. Down comes winter, up goes spring.

 Jody and I talked.

          “I told Michael that I thought you were rushing me out the door when I stopped this afternoon.” Her husband is a Michael too.

          Jody is very astute. I thought I was being subtle, but she caught me. I laughed. “I was. I told you I was working on your elf and I wanted to try and finish it.”

          “And you wanted to make cookies for the cookie exchange,” she said. “Did you get them made?”

          “No.”

          “Why not?” she wanted to know.

          “Because my butter got too soft. It wouldn’t make a crumbly crust for the Dream Bars and I just thought if I can’t make it right, I’m not going to make it at all.” I could see a question hanging between us. “I just stuck it in the fridge. It’ll be okay after it chills.”

          I wasn’t going to take part in the cookie exchange because I had no intention of bringing cookies home with me, not even going to eat a single one at church. Then I thought I’d make them for others to take, then the crust wasn’t cooperating and I went back to the original plan of not participating. Instead, I was able to finish Jody’s elf.

          Miss Rosie and I exchanged gifts earlier in the week, when she came for exercise class. She got her elf and I’d picked up a metal farm sign with a chicken weathervane. She loves chickens but finding her something chicken themed that she doesn’t already have is a challenge.

          Friday morning, Mike and I took an elf and a pumpkin roll out to Addi’s house. She’s another one that never takes her suncatchers down.

          “We put a rod up in her window and they’re all hanging there,” Liz, Addi’s mom, told me. “All of her friends just love them.”

          “And what did you get?” you ask.

          You’re gonna be so jealous! I hesitate to even tell you all the beautiful things I got.

Jody made me a lavender scented sachet for my sock drawer and personalized it with the letter P in purple buttons. I smile just thinking about it! It smells so good! I love it!

          Addi made a cutting board in shop class at school.

          “And you gave it to me and not your mom?”

          Addi grinned and nodded.

          I felt honored.

My Miss Rosie painted a winter scene on a little wooden sled and gave me a plate of homemade cookies — but she asked me first about the cookies.

“I know you’re dieting,” she said. “So, if you’d rather not have cookies, I understand.”

“I love your Christmas cookies!” I told her and would probably feel slighted if she didn’t give me any this year. “I can always put them in my daily calorie count and just portion them out.”

“Just eat them all at once and get rid of them,” she said with a laugh.

It was my intention to just eat one or two a day but once I got started, I couldn’t stop! Even when I started to feel bloated and a little sick, my belly kept clawing at me like a hungry monster, wanting more. It took me a couple of days, but I ate them all! All by myself! Mike is staying away from sugar and I didn’t try too hard to get him to eat any. Then, when their daughters came up for Christmas, I got a pair of fancy schmancy socks and more cookies! Aside from the Honey Graham S’mores, the rest were gluten and dairy free, a sample of the cookies the girls had made for their mom’s diet. I ate those, too — and enjoyed every bite! What can I say! It’s Christmas! Tomorrow we’ll get strict with the calories again.

           I’ve been wanting to tell you for some time what I’ve been reading, then I finish the book, move on to something else and somehow, the subject never seems to come up.

I told you about reading The Four Winds and The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah and how much I enjoyed them. Jessica, one of my friends on Facebook and a gal who used to go to my church, suggested I read The Great Alone by the same author. I do most all of my reading from the two libraries I belong to and had to put it on hold. I tried a couple of other books while I waited, couldn’t get interested, and returned them. I only had to wait four days to get The Great Alone, then devoured it, returning it five days early. I started to read another of her books when a book I’d been waiting for since August became available.

I read Liane Moriarty’s Nine Perfect Strangers in thirteen days, returning it just one day early. Hulu has made that book into a mini-series.

Someplace or another the title of a modern classic came up. One I’ve never read. I searched the library and borrowed a copy of Watership Down by Richard Adams next. This book has been made into lots of movies but I've never seen those either. Besides, I often prefer the book over the movie anyway.

A long time ago, a hundred years, maybe more, I was with Momma at a bookstore. They had several discounted copies of a book that was supposed to be along the same line as Watership Down. I don’t know if she told me that she liked Watership Down or I just assumed it by the way she snagged the book.

If she recommends it, I’m sure to like it, I thought and bought a copy, too. But I couldn’t get interested in it and didn’t read much of it. I can still see the cover with a badger on it and I think it was called Cold Moon, but I won’t swear to it.

Based on that, I didn’t think I’d like Watership Down.

Surprise! I’m really enjoying it. One thing from the book that sticks with me, something I didn’t know (how would I?), and something I don’t know if it’s true or not (but I suspect it is), is that there are no aborted babies in the rabbit world. If something happens and the mother is sick or there’s not enough food, the babies are simply absorbed back into her body.

“Do animals spontaneously abort?” you ask.

We had a cat once that did. I went out in the morning and there would be these mostly formed kittens laying there, still in their embryonic sac and she wouldn’t be pregnant anymore. It happened several times. I don’t know why she couldn’t carry a litter to term.

Halfway through Watership Down, my turn comes up for another book I’ve been waiting a long time for. I placed a hold on Where the Crawdads Sing by Delila Owens back on March 18^th!

Now what am I gonna do! I wanna finish Watership Down but I’ve been waiting a long time for Where the Crawdads Sing, too!

I decided I could get Watership Down back a lot easier than Where the Crawdads Sing so that’s what I’m reading now. I’ve only had it since Christmas Eve and it didn’t take me long to get totally wrapped up in the story. I have a feeling I’ll be returning it early because all I want to do is sit and read it.

I think we have time for a critter story or two of my own.

Bondi has this game she plays with me. Every night, when I take the litter pail out to clean the litter from the cat room, I change from my house shoes into Mike’s boots, which I keep conveniently stationed there by the door. Because I have to walk through the often wet and muddy back yard to scatter it in the weeds, I track stuff in with me and it’s bad enough the back hall looks like a barn let alone dragging it through the whole house.

Bondi waits for me.

I’m standing outside, taking her picture through the door. She heard me come out of the cat room and close the door but can’t figure out what’s taking me so long, so she comes to look.

I open the door and Bondi immediately goes for my shoes.

“HEY!” I mock scold. “Those are my shoes!”

“Grrrr,” Bondi says.

I shed the boots and put my foot in the unattended shoe.

“That’s my shoe!” I tell her and get a toe in the other one. I continue to mock scold her as she holds onto the heel, and I drag her out of the utility room into the kitchen.

“Peg, those shoes look like they’ve seen better days,” you say.

I know, right! They really have. I’ve worn the heck out of them, hot glued ‘em back together, and Bondi had her way with the insoles. But I wear them anyway, for two reasons. They were my favorite and they’re the only pair we can have our game with.

Needless to say, I was quite surprised when I came back in one night and she wasn’t waiting for me. I go around the corner and see a wet spot. She had peed and just like any guilty party, she was hiding. It didn’t work though. I found her, took her back to the scene of the crime, scolded her for real, and put her outside.

She still has accidents sometimes but not very often.

I was cleaning the bathroom the other day, down on my knees Pine Sol-ing around the base of the pot, when I hear a soft thump and look up in time to see the roll of paper towels rolling out of the bathroom. I grabbed ‘em, the roll stopped, the sheets kept going. On the other end was this little imp, Blackie witness to the whole escapade.

“HEY YOU!” I often find her antics amusing. “Give me those!” I got them away from her before she could make too many small pieces out of them.

I would say that Itsy and Ginger pretty well had us hoodwinked as to what a real dog is like.

And this guy! Blackie has been splashing in the water bowl lately. This time it’s Bondi sitting back and watching.

By the way, if you happen to notice that Bondi’s food is all over the floor, it’s because she like free-range kibble better.

 And that’s really all I’ve got for you.

“You could’ve skipped this week,” you say. “It’s Christmas weekend and no one would blame you.”

I thought about that. I really did. I could sit back and do nothing but read and drink coffee. But then, I wouldn’t want you to forget that you are loved.

Until next time, y’all are in my heart.

Sunrise

           Let’s start with a sunrise picture this week. Wednesday morning, I was making the cats breakfast and saw the sun lighting up the sky through my kitchen window.

          I ducked down and saw there was a big blanket of dark blue clouds and in my mind’s eye, a memory flashed.

          A hundred years ago, my beautiful and much-adored older sister came to visit us in Kendallville, Indiana. Patti and I made a trip to the store and as soon as I pulled in the parking lot, the sky blazed all oranges and reds. It was absolutely stunning! We parked and reveled in its glory.

“You can’t have a sunset like that without clouds,” Patti told me and until that very moment, I hadn’t realized that.

This morning I just knew the sky would light up. I went out onto the kitchen patio and took a picture.

It doesn’t take long for the sky to change and I knew it would be gone before long. I also knew that this is the view you usually see when I take a sunrise picture. I still had to take food to the outside girls so I thought I’d give you a treat and take a picture from a different venue.

The sky went from this…

…to this in just two minutes— with no help from me. (That means I didn’t enhance it on my computer.)

I told you that I got established with the gal that takes care of Mike’s health.

Michelle isn’t a doctor, she’s a Physician’s Assistant and was the one to diagnose Mike’s anemia and find his cancer early. I trust her.

          Michelle ran a blood test on me.

          “It’s a fasting blood test so nothing for eight hours prior,” she told me.

          You are allowed to have creamer-less and sugarless coffee, thank goodness. That’s what I drink anyway.

          The morning of my blood test, I got in the car and did what I always do when I get in the car. I popped a Starlight Mint into my mouth. Two miles down the road, just as we’re crossing the bridge into town, I remembered what we were going for. I spit the rest of the mint out and called the doctor’s office. I told Missy what I’d done and asked if that meant I had to reschedule my blood test.

          “It shouldn’t affect it,” she said.

          We get to the office and I told the gal drawing my blood what I’d done.

          “It should be okay,” she said.

          I thought sugar passed into the blood stream pretty quickly and I was surprised when they said I could still have the test.

          The results are back and I’m not happy. My blood sugar was one point high. Surprise! Was it because of the mint or am I prediabetic?

My cholesterol is high too. Both the good and bad.

“You do not need any medication at this time although the use of omega-3 supplement daily would help to bring down your bad cholesterol.  Continue to avoid saturated fats, eggs and butter.  Routine exercise.  I would recommend repeating your cholesterol in 6 to 12 months,” Michelle advised.

Continue to avoid saturated fats, eggs, and butter, she says! Like I’ve been avoiding them all along! The only one of those things I avoid is butter. I love butter but butter doesn’t love me. I gave up eating it altogether three months ago. Cheese is high in saturated fat. I guess I’ll give up the quarter cup of mozzarella that I sprinkle over my popcorn every night — right after this bag is gone. But eggs? I read someplace that a study found the cholesterol in eggs didn’t cross over into blood cholesterol. Since I started my diet in October, I’ve been eating two hard boiled eggs for breakfast almost every morning! OY! I’ve switched to oatmeal with cinnamon and no milk! Not very exciting, I must say.

And exercise? Miss Rosie and I workout together two days a week. I simply have no motivation to go in and workout by myself. I always find something better to do.

The one finding that surprises me is my sodium is low.

“Of course she’s low on salt — she doesn’t eat any!” our old friend Margaret in Missouri said when Mike told her.

Mike’s never salted his food for as long as I’ve known him and I quit eating salt for a lot of years. It used to frustrate both Margaret and my mother. When they’d came to dinner at my house, they’d have to salt everything.

“It would taste better if you used salt when you cooked,” Momma said.

“Actually, food has a flavor without salt,” I told her. And I thought not eating salt was better for me.

Sodium is one of the major electrolytes your body requires. Others are potassium, chloride, magnesium, and calcium. When you sweat too much, you lose these electrolytes and end up with heat stroke. Most people are not low on sodium, in fact, most people consume too much salt!

Michelle wanted to put me on Omeprazole (generic Prilosec) to treat the reflux she thinks is causing my cough.

“I tried that,” I told her. “It makes me not feel well so I stopped taking it and just use Pepcid.”

“Not feel well how?” she asked.

“It makes me feel light-headed, kinda fuzzy, but not quite dizzy.”

“Pepcid will stop the acid but won’t heal the damage. Let’s try Nexium. Most people tolerate that really well.”

When I picked up the prescription, I did something I shouldn’t’ve done. I read the side effects. These kinds of medicines will make you low in potassium and you’ll experience symptoms much like what I experienced when I took Omeprazole. I’d’ve been okay with the weight loss one, but did I get that one? NO!

When I first experienced the light-headed fuzziness, I thought I was dehydrated and drank more water! That just exacerbated the symptoms. Now, with this blood test — 1I4444444444444444444444444

Sorry. Blackie was helping me. He obviously likes fours!

Now, with this blood test, I realize I need to eat more salt!

Something clicked in my head. About a hundred years ago, Momma was visiting us. I’d been outside on a summer day and when I came in, I didn’t feel well, much the same way I felt after taking the meds.

“You need salt,” my wise and beautiful mother said. “Eat some potato chips.”

And she was right. I ate some chips and felt better almost right away.

After my blood results came back, I called Patti. “Mom was like that, too. She had dry mouth and drank a lot. She always tested low on sodium.”

Dry mouth? I’ve always had to have something to drink all the time, but I never considered that it was dry mouth. I can be such an idiot sometimes.

And I know that my oldest son is the same way. Years ago, like a hundred, his girlfriend at the time, told me, “Chris has to have something to drink all the time!”

Is dry mouth hereditary?

I can replace the sodium in my body easily enough. Salt my oatmeal, salt my apple, salt my carrots. But what about the other minerals?

I’m going to have to start taking Centrum again, I thought. It’s not like I don’t have multivitamins, I do. They’re sitting on the shelf. I hate taking pills all the time so I go in fits and spurts where I’ll take it for a while, then quit. Time to start taking it again. I pulled the bottle down and saw there were only a few left.

Mike had me put Centrum Silver for Men on the grocery list a week or so ago, so he needed some, too.

I got online and found a coupon to save two dollars on one bottle of any Centrum vitamin. I printed two.

We went shopping this week. I took a few pictures.

We had to run past the Ford dealership and see how the new building was progressing. 

We got behind a truck that had his injector pump turned up and spewed out black exhaust when he hit his gas hard. After the smoke cleared, I saw he’d passed up this old Chevy. Looks like he just got new tires. The stickers are still visible.

The next time we got behind Old Smokey was at a stoplight. I knew he’d gas it.

We get to Walmart and Mike stayed in the car with Bondi while I ran in for the few things we needed. The hardest thing for me to do is pick out dog food. They didn’t have the Naked Essentials that Bondi seems to like so I had to get something else. I bet I spent ten minutes walking up and down the aisle before deciding on Bella.

Our Walmart has added a bunch of self-checkout stations. I hardly ever have to wait in line for a cashier unless I want to. I scanned all my items and started looking for a button to push to add my coupons. When I couldn’t find it, I called the attendant over.

“How do I do coupons?” I asked and held them out to her.

She took them and looked at them. “Just scan ‘em.” She waved the first one over the ‘eye’ and it beeped, showing a two-dollar deduction. She scanned the second one, it beeped and showed two dollars off, too. “Then just put them right in the slot.” She folded them in half and shoved ‘em through the slot into the bin below the register.

“Thank you!” I told her and finished checking out.

Normally I don’t pay too much attention to receipts but this time I looked for my deductions. There was only one. I called the gal back over. “I bought two Centrums; I should be able to use two coupons.”

She took my receipt and looked it over. “I don’t understand it. It showed it took both of them.” She scanned the receipt a little closer. “I can’t do anything now because the transaction is completed. If you go to Service, they may be able to open the bin and get your coupon back for you.”

I’m walking away, looking at the receipt, when I see there’s only one Centrum listed. I scanned them both, I know I did.

I can walk out that door right now with a free bottle of Centrum and they can keep the two-dollar coupon.

I guess I’m as susceptible to sin as the next guy.

I didn’t go in the store with an expectation of getting a ‘free’ bottle of vitamins, I reminded myself. I fully expected to pay for it, pay for it I will. I was fourth in line at Customer Service. While I waited, I dug out both bottles and laid them on top of my purse. Then I read my receipt. Pork skins, pork loin, butter (so I can bake for Christmas), popcorn. EQ FAB 100CT gave me pause. Oh, yeah. Equate Fabric bandaids. I was working with my stained glass again this week and got a small cut. It’s amazing how those tiny little cuts can bleed the most. When I went for a bandaid, I saw we were getting low.

I didn’t recognize the next item. NM OMEGA 3,

What is that? I wondered. It cost me fourteen ninety-seven, seems like I’d remember. I dug through all the items in my bag and didn’t see anything with that name on it. I picked up the vitamin boxes and started checking the UPC number thinking they had it in the computer wrong. I turned the box of men’s vitamins over and see a sticker. There it was. NM OMEGA MINI 120CT. I don’t know how the sticker got on the box and you can clearly see there are only 65 tablets in the box. When I scanned it, I just ran it across the scanner, listened for the beep, and never saw what it charged.

When it was my turn at the counter, I had a hard time getting her to understand what my problem was. “I scanned this sticker and not the code on the box,” I told her. “It’s supposed to be six something and not fourteen something. And I had a coupon for two dollars off, too, but it didn’t take it and I already put it in the bin.”

She scanned both bar codes and saw that what I said was true. “I can return these but I can’t give you two dollars or my drawer will be short.”

“Can’t you get the coupon from the bin? Your gal helped me scan them.” I didn’t want her to think I was lying about the coupon. “That drawer will be two-dollars over.”

She turned to the other gal, who was half-listening while she waited on someone else. “Can we do that?”

“She’s in the middle of an audit. It’ll be a while.”

My gal was in the process of returning the fourteen ninety-seven to me and I was sorta steamed about my two dollars. which is kinda funny. Just a couple of days before, I’d been at the post office mailing a package. It wasn’t very heavy so I took an extra box with me thinking it might be cheaper than a flat-rate box.

I handed the box to Terry. “It’ll be sixteen twenty-five” she said.

“Did they have a price increase?” I asked.

“They raised it for the holidays. It’ll go back down after.”

I think that sucks. “How much will it be if I put it in my own box?” I asked.

She weighed it. “Right around fourteen.”

For two bucks I wasn’t going to take the time to repack it. What’s two bucks? I thought.

I handed the women’s formula Centrum Silver across to the gal. “I want to return these, too.”

“You want to return these, too?”

“Yep. I’ll get another coupon and buy ‘em later.”

She did as I asked and looked at me expectantly. “Oh. I want the men’s vitamins.” I guess she didn’t understand that I wanted them, but I wanted them for the right price.

She looked totally flustered. She rang them up, I paid, and left.

What’s two bucks indeed! I didn’t mind spending it, but I didn’t like giving it to Walmart!

On the way home I took a picture of this Christmassy yard. Lots of blow ups. Lots of Christmas spirit. But TRUMP in lights? I don’t get it.

“Peg, what are you doing in your glass shop?” you wanna know.

I’m making elves for Christmas. This is the first one and I’m not all that happy with it.

“Having the first draft makes it more valuable. Like the first edition of a book, or the lower the number on a print,” my beautiful friend Jody says.

She loves me.

I just hope the recipient feels the same way.

I’ve tweaked the pattern but haven’t finished a second one yet. Do you think I could make the elf’s hat different colors or should I stick with red and green? And what if I gave him a colored face, like, say, blue or green or yellow or brown?

Tiger found Smudge’s old spot on the kitchen window shelf. He can sit there and dream of his lost days of freedom. He could watch the birds at the feeder — if I had any birds at my feeders!

I’ve had the feeders out for over a month and haven’t seen any birds. Even my neighbor Sally told me on the phone a couple of weeks ago that she’s not had any birds at her feeders either.

“Maybe there’s enough seeds out there for them yet,” she mused.

Mid-week, as I got to the kitchen window, I startled a blue streak from the feeder to the fence. I quickly grabbed my camera, put the big lens on, and prayed he’d still be there when I got back.

It’s probably just a Blue Jay, I thought. I was delighted to see it was a Bluebird!

“It’s kind of late for a Bluebird to still be here,” my feisty, red-headed, beautiful Miss Rosie said. A few days later she called and told me Lamar had seen a Robin. It’s late for them, too!

I saw a couple of other birds at the feeder that day but since then, none.

Our township put the pipe under our road this week. Mike spent time down there sidewalk supervising and talking with the guys.

They reworked the ditch the whole way to the township line, which is right where the tractor is sitting. 

I want to end this week with an update on last week’s letter blog.

I talked about the Swartz family and since Larry Hill played a big part in my being able to write that story and show you those old pictures, I sent him a link to the blog, along with a note.

“If I had to do it over, I would've mentioned how hard you worked on the photos. Under pressure of my deadline, I forget things.” Blogging isn’t a job in that I get paid for it but I do like to have it done by Sunday night.

Larry’s been helping the Milton Historical Society organize and file their extensive collection of artifacts. In return they allow him to borrow and scan the old pictures. He’s spent hundreds of hours restoring and improving their quality and has done a fantastic job. I so enjoyed looking at the pictures of the town in days gone by.

I didn’t know if Larry would check out my blog or not and I didn’t really expect him to reply, but he did.

Hi Peg - took a look at your blog and can answer one of your questions. German families often used the mother's maiden name as the middle name for a child. You can see that in many places in the Milton Families section of the web site. Even in my own family I see it. Also have a g-g-g-grandfather who went by John K. Hill. We believe his given name was Johannes Kohler Hill, Kohler being his mother's maiden name. BTW, there are German Hills and UK Hills. Ours came from Scotland to Switzerland to Germany centuries ago. All of the wives' maiden names are German. They came here about 300 years ago and settled in Berks County, PA, which became too crowded by the early 1800s, forcing the younger generations to move west. Many of the German families in Milton came from Berks County or Northampton County. 

It'll be Christmastime when I write again. I wish you all a very Merry Christmas!

And with that, let’s call this one done!

Christmas Wish

           “What do you want for Christmas?” my handsome husband asked.

          I had to think about. “I’ll let you know.”

          I made a Dream Box last week and wanted to make more. This week, getting my stuff around to cut cardboard, I pulled out my wooden kitchen cutting board. It works just fine and Practical Me would keep doing it that way forever and ever.

Speaking of Practical Me, do you know that brand of yogurt called Oui? Once in a while, when it’s on sale, I’ll buy a few because I really like it. Mostly though, I make my own yogurt. When I portion my yogurt up, I use whatever containers I have, preferably ones with lids.

Since I started my diet back in October, I’ve reduced our serving size from one cup to a half cup. That means I have to come up with fourteen small containers to store it in. My Oui jars are a good size but they don’t have lids. I know you can buy lids made special for these jars so I Googled it.

HOLY COW! Just four lids can run you from twelve to twenty dollars!

Nope! No way! Nuh-uh! I ain’t doin’ it!

I searched all over my house. In drawers and boxes and found several lids from other yogurt containers but they didn’t fit. I’m standing there at the counter, totally frustrated with the yogurt company. For the price they charge, you should get one free! I think. I can always use cling wrap but I don’t mind washing dishes and prefer something reusable. My eyes fell on a stack of carryout containers on my shelf. My handsome brother bought me a sleeve of these and I think of Richard every time I reach for one. When a Oui glass is set down inside, the lid fits tightly across the yogurt glass.

Is it inconvenient? Yeah. A little. But it gets the job done — and with stuff I already own!

Would I like to have lids for these glasses? That’s a yes and no answer. Sure, I would. It’s always nice to have sets. But no because it would be one more thing I’d have to store.

So, when your husband wants to buy you something and you don’t really need anything, you might just pick something you’d normally make do without. Something like say, a cutting mat.

“I want a cutting mat for Christmas,” I told Mike. “And while you’re at it, how about some glue sticks for my mini glue gun and Elmer’s glue?”

“You’re killin’ me with all the craft stuff you get into!” Mike fake complains. “I gotta buy you new stuff all the time! Don’t you stick to anything?”

I like to make things, especially things I’ve never made before. Hit it, conquer it, and move on to something else. That’s my philosophy.

Mostly Mike likes the things I make and I think he’s secretly proud. And this was to be a Christmas gift.

A few days later, guess what shows up on my doorstep?

Yep. A really nice cutting mat and enough glue to satisfy the crafter in me.

I’m not waiting for Christmas. A couple of days later I got it out and started using it. And I love it.

I cut enough cardboard pieces for three more Dream Boxes. One of them needs to make its way to Minnesota (hopefully before Christmas but she’ll forgive me if it’s late) so I’d make my beautiful sister Phyllis one first.

I want to give my Dream Boxes different designs. I experimented with making my own stencils. That handsome Lamar Kipp had given me some sheets of plastic and I thought they’d be perfect for this project. I made the one that says DREAM last week. Now I wanted to make other designs. There is definitely a learning curve and I had to throw almost a whole sheet away but did manage to make a couple of new stencils — even if it did take me ALL day!

I sat down, plugged in the hot glue gun, and put a box together. All the edges and the surface have to be covered with paper and here I had several options. Napkins, newspaper, or that brown paper that comes as packing material in Walmart boxes. I wanna try that. I went into the wayback and got my stash of hoarded brown paper. I tore it into pieces and glued it on.

Why am I gluing paper onto perfectly good cardboard? I wondered.

I finished the part I was working on, turned to the computer, and asked that question of the lady who’s project I was following. “Is there a reason?” I asked.

“Yes! To cover the edges, also to protect the cardboard from being swollen, and to make it more sturdy. And in some projects, you may use napkins for creating texture,” replied Crafty Hands.

She’s been excellent to communicate with, always prompt and polite with a reply. I would’ve thought as a big-time crafter-blogger she wouldn’t have time to answer pesky messages from one of her followers.

I turned back to the table and see Blackie is helping me.

“You silly kitty,” I told him but didn’t make him get down.

He took a piece of paper and added texture to it. You know, spit and teeth holes, and claw marks. I had to throw that one away. It was pretty well shredded when he was done with it. Then he stretched out for a nap. Texturing wears a body out!

The next thing I tried making was texture paste. It’s made with baby powder, glue, and water. I have an almost full bottle of baby powder that I’ve had for years and years and never used. This would be a good way to get at least one thing out of the cupboard.

I mixed it according to the internet directions but it wasn’t coming close to the consistency they said to make it. I kept adding powder and more powder. It was really funny stuff. Hard when I tried to stir it but turned liquid when I let it sit. I thought I’d better quit adding powder and try it.

I wasn’t going to ruin my Dream Box so I got a piece of scrap cardboard and tried it. I thought it had a really cool look to it!

I got my box and a stencil and tried to put a design on. It was a total failure. The paste stuck to the stencil and pulled half of it off the box and the rest ran. I guess I should’ve had it sitting level until it set up a little. I took the box and was scraping it into the trash when a thought pops into my head.

I should’ve taken a picture of it!

I went back to the original way of making texture paste. Plaster of Paris.

After a while I noticed the texture on my sample piece was cracking. That doesn’t happen with POP.

I made my embellishments and got ready to paint it. I dug through my craft paints and all I could find was a lavender purple and I wanted a deeper, more plum color. I played around with lavender and black, lavender and green, lavender and blue, and finally, lavender and red. I couldn’t really see that I was getting where I wanted to go so I stopped and tried it on the box. When it dried, it looked too pink!

Lavender it is, I thought and washed my mess down the drain.

I still have to repaint the back, put the lining in, and highlight the pages, but I’m hoping to get it in the mail next week — the week after at the latest!

This week we made a trip to Milton. Mike’s tractor payment was coming due and we hadn’t received a payment book. He tried to do it online and found out he’d have to show up at a branch in person and sign some papers. Milton was the closest branch to us and that’s almost 70 miles away — but! — can you say road pictures?

A morning sunrise that isn’t all reds and oranges.

Most of the house pictures were taken as we went through Hughesville, but this first one is in Dushore.

The toilet and toilet sitter were gone!

“Good,” Mike said. “I didn’t like it anyway. I think it’s tacky.”

“I’m not saying I want one. I just like to see how they decorate it.”

 Waiting for their forever homes.

I didn’t realize they had any entry room in this house until I saw the second door on my computer. Man! I need one of those. Our front door opens and the cold winter winds just blow right in. I’ll put that on my Someday list.

 How would you like to live next door to this?

Coming into Milton, I snapped a photo of a family vault. Looking at it on the computer, I can see the inscription over the door. HN&JWN SWARTZ.

Me being me, curiosity reared its ugly head and I spent a few hours searching for information about this family.

What I stumbled on was a really nice website dedicated to the genealogy of old Milton families. I found a Henry Newcomer Swartz. He was in the marble business. That explains how he could have his own mausoleum, I think. I read further and see he was marred to Hannah. That’s not JWN. I searched the history and didn’t find any other HN Swartz. I decided to try and find the wife. There were no women listed with those initials.  There was a link to email Larry Hill, the creator of the website, and asked him. I was just sure I wouldn’t get a reply before publish time, but I did. Then I thought of more questions and he was prompt to answer them all.

“HN would be Henry Newcomer Swartz (wife Hannah Fryer). Henry was a stone and marble dealer. He built the building on the corner of Broadway and Elm, and was a brother of John W.N. Swartz, the owner of the grocery store. The links below go to the details. Hope this helps you.”

John WN… I slapped my hand against my forehead. What an idiot! I assumed it was a husband and his wife when in fact the initials are those of brothers.

I asked Larry Hill what the WN stood for and he replied he found nothing in history to tell him, but he thinks the N is for Newcomer.

I poked around the lineage of this family and discovered their mother’s maiden name was Newcomer. Why? Why put your maiden name in your sons name?

Jacob Z and Susanna Newcomer had three sons. Henry and fourteen years later, John. They don’t know the birth date of the third son, but Dr. G.N. died six years before either of his brothers.

The website had a picture of the inside of John’s store and I found it interesting. 

Check out John standing there in his three-piece suit. Gone are the days when people took the time and care to dress elegantly before appearing in public.

See what a tangent I got off onto!

Back to pictures.

Having a camera always at the ready comes in handy sometimes.

“Is that a bear laying there?’ Mike asked of a carcass beside the road.

Snap, snap, goes my camera and I zoom in. “Nope. It’s a deer. I can see the hooves.”

Parking is free in Dushore during the holiday season.

“What’s he got on that truck?” Mike asked.

Click, click, zoom. Once again, my camera comes to the rescue.

“It looks like furniture made primitive style. Can we go past Ahern’s and get some apples?” I asked.

“I wasn’t going to go home that way,” Mike answered.

I shrugged. “Okay. We’ll go out later in the week and get some.” I’m easy. I don’t fuss too much if I don’t get my own way.  

We went and got apples at Ahern’s. I took this picture of a tree and dramatic sky on the way as we crested a hill.

Ahern’s sell their apples out of a shed/store. Normally the sliding door is open but it was closed when we got there.

“The sign says open,” I said.

“I see a little walk-in door,” Mike said.

We got out and as we approached the door, I see this thing hanging there. “What’s that for?” I asked.

           My eyes followed the string up and I’m thinking bell. What I see is more like horns, and I smile. I was tempted to pull it but I didn’t. I’ve been to Ahern’s before and know that if no one is around, it’s self-serve.

We slid the door open and went in.

“I want a crispy apple,” Mike said.

Boy, don’t I know that! If they get even a little soft, he won’t eat them. Me? I’ll eat them anyway. I love apples. I think it’s my favorite fruit. Wait! No thinking about it! It IS my favorite fruit!

“I messaged them on Facebook,” I told Mike. “They said Crispins would be crispy. And Northern Spy would be crispy too but not as sweet.”

We ended up getting some of both. We paid and we’re heading out when Mr. Ahern came in, his dog Sadie trailing behind. These two old guys got to talkin’ and I was cold.

“I’m going to the car,” I told Mike. I’m heading out and see the barn we parked in front of had its door open. Me being me, I stuck my nose in and took a few shots.

Sadie came up to see what I was doin’. I pulled a Starlight Mint from my pocket, popped it in my mouth, and broke off a piece for her.

She likes it!

It amazes me that dogs like peppermint. I know people who don’t and I used to be one of those. But now I do. Funny how things change as you get older.

I offer it to every dog I meet (if I have one in my pocket) and so far every one has liked it.

When the mind was gone — err mint! One letter! I’m tellin’ ya! When the mint was gone, I got in the car. Bondi sniffed me and I could tell she was unhappy. I don’t know if it was because she didn’t get any mint or if she smelled Sadie on me.

Sadie laid down by the road and waited for her master. I opened the book on my phone to pass the time. No telling how long the gab fest would go on for.

A helicopter came within earshot. I heard it. I glanced up to see if I could see it and saw I wasn’t the only one aware of it. Sadie watched it traverse the sky.

A triaxle truck came roaring down the road a hundred miles an hour. I expected to be witness to Sadie’s demise. She chases cars. I know she does because she’s chased our car a few times when we happened to be traveling past here. But she didn’t pay it or any other vehicle any attention. She just waited for Mr. Ahern. Maybe she only chases cars when he’s in the house?

A couple of more pictures I took on the way home.

I took a couple of winter pictures when I went down to get the mail one day.

The helicopter seeds of the Boxelder Tree...

... and the bright red berries of Winterberry.

You wanna talk about turkeys for a moment? Not the gobble-gobble kind, the four-legged kind that inhabit my house.

Miss Rosie and I have started working out together in Peg’s Pain Palace. She comes twice a week and Bondi is always excited to see her. Miss Rosie loves that. Bondi still piddles a little when she’s excited. I don’t know if it only happens when she has a full bladder or if it happens all the time. Most times I don’t bother to look. It’s only a little and ignorance is bliss.

I shut Bondi out of the exercise studio for her safety and ours. She’s beginning to accept this but will still come to the door a couple of times during our session and ask to come in. On this particular day I did notice that Bondi did tinkle a little when Miss Rosie came in and I was a little worried that her bladder might be full, and that Mike might not know she needs to go out, and that he wouldn’t let her out, and that she would pee on the rug. So many worries! It was distracting! We were almost done with our Richard Simmons DVD so I decided to let Bondi come in and I’d put her out the exercise studio door. She got distracted by Miss Rosie and ended up finishing the workout with us.

Just look at these chair hogs! I’d just gotten up and turned to look. Six inches isn’t much room in which to perch this broad expanse of a behind of mine but that’s all they gave me. Turkeys.

And this guy! OY! It’s a lot harder to work around Tiger now than when he was a kitten. In the first picture he’s watching my cursor move across the line. Cat paws work on touch screens as well as fingers do. They can move my cursor to a different line and open and close windows.

“Are you still keeping Tiger and Spitfire in?” you wanna know.

We are! They are not happy and we don’t like to hear them cry but unless they start peeing where they aren’t supposed to, they’re staying in.

Spitfire was at the door and being especially vocal about wanting to go out when Mike came out into the kitchen.

“That cat,” I told Mike. “I already had a talk with him and told him he had to stay in because we didn’t want him to get hit on the road.”

“Meow!” Spitfire chimed in.

“No,” Mike told him. “We don’t want you dead!”

‘D-E-D DEAD!” I emphasized.

Mike laughed. “D-E-D?”

What can I say? I was washing dishes at the time and not paying attention. Who says women can’t multi-task!

How do you like this picture! Take enough pictures and you’ll get lucky once in a while.

We decided to go out for breakfast. We were just starting to cross the Rainbow Bridge when I snapped this shot. In fact, the black thing in the upper right corner of the picture is a steel bridge girder. I don’t feel the need to crop it out and my imagination says it can be a tree trunk.

We get to Mark’s Valley View and there aren’t any vehicles there.

“Uh-oh. It doesn’t look like they’re open,” Mike said.

He pulled up to the door and I snapped a picture of the sign so I could see what it says.  

Mike didn’t need any such help. “Closed December ninth,” he read.

I found out later that something was making the rounds.

“Our breakfast cook has been sick all week. As of yesterday 2 waitresses were sick & then the night cook ended up leaving sick yesterday & when Stacy called me this morning she didn’t sound good. 🤢🤢 I got lucky,” Cindy, our usual breakfast waitress told me.

“We could go to Wiser Choice in Laceyville,” I said. “Or we can go home,” I added.

Mike headed for Laceyville.

He took a back road.

We rounded a corner and I loved how the sun looked as it was coming up behind the trees.

 “The road looks icy,” I said.

Mike did a brake test and we could hear our brakes pulse as they compensated for a skid. “They are,” Mike said.

Then a chicken decided to test just how good our brakes really were!

Don’t worry, he lived to cross the road.

We get to into Laceyville and there were no empty parking spaces anywhere close to Wiser Choice. I guess all of Mark’s regulars had the same idea we did.

“We could go to Perkin’s in Tunkhannock,” I suggested.

“Or we could try that little restaurant there by Chris’s BBQ,” Mike suggested.

We’ve driven by Kristi's Kountry Kitchen many times and always say we should try it sometime. It was closer than Tunkhannock so I voted for Kristi’s.

Opening the door, the room fell silent as everyone looked to see who had come in.

Since we had the center of attention, I made the most of it. “Good morning!” I called out cheerfully. “We’re here!”

No one seemed to care and they all went back to breakfasts and coffees.

I was surprised at how small the place was. There were a few seats left at the counter but we took the last empty table — right by the door! Brrr! I’m not the only one who needs an entryway!

We both ordered what we always order. A Western Omelet for Mike, pancakes and a side of bacon for me. All in all, the food was good.

“Would you go back again?” you ask knowing that’s the true test.

Only if Mark’s is closed. It’s not that there was anything wrong with it and the prices were about the same, but Mark’s is closer.

When Lovely Lisa brought our check, I asked, “Didn’t I see this place on the news —” She didn’t let me finish.

“I don’t know,” she uttered as she dropped the check on our table and hurried by with coffee pot in hand.

I ignored her interruption and went on. “— because the owner’s son had cancer or something?”

“Leukemia,” she answered.

“How is he?”

“He’s doing good,” and she hurried away.

Another couple came in the door. Even though people had been coming and going the whole time we were there, at the moment there were no empty tables.

“Wanna sit at the bar?” the woman asked.

“I guess,” the man answered.

They didn’t seem any more enthused about sitting at the counter then we are.

She went to the counter as he turned to close the door.

“We’re finished if you want our table,” I piped up. It was a four-top and still had two clean placemats.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Absolutely.”

He went to the counter, stood beside his woman, and said something. He pointed at us and she turned to look. I took another swig of coffee and Mike and I got up to leave as they came back to the table.

“Thanks a lot,” the man said like we’d done him a favor.

“No problem,” my replied.

Saturday morning, I spent a couple of hours at my church with a bunch of beautiful ladies.

“We’re going to start by reading the Christmas story. I need seven volunteers to read a section,” Miss Sherry said.

I did a quick head count. There were ten of us. Whew! I wouldn’t have to read.

One by one, the ladies took a book until Sherry was left holding the last one.

Sherry raised her eyebrows and looked at me.

“Nooo. You said you needed seven.” I did a quick count of ladies holding Bibles and it looked like she had all she needed to me.

Regardless of my count, she still held one book and held it out to me.

“I don’t wanna read.”

My friend Jody came to the rescue. “I’ll take it.”

“You’ll read two parts?” Sherry said.

Jody laughed her delightful laugh. “I’ll do two parts. I may not be able to sing, but I can read!”

Sherry gave her the book.

When the books were opened it was discovered there was an extra, master one.

“Oh. I forgot,” Sherry said.

Jody gave up her second reading to Sandy who gave the master to Sherry.

“Why didn’t you want to read?” you wanna know.

I didn’t want to embarrass myself. The lighting in our church really sucks. It’s yellow and dim and not conducive to reading at all. Wait! That might just be my cataracts.

“No, it’s dim in here,” one of the ladies said when I complained about it later.

After we read and talked about the birth of our Lord, we hit the snack table. What a spread these ladies put on!

Then we got busy and made Christmas decorations. We made snowflake window clings and turned pinecones into Christmas trees and elves.

At the end, some of the coffee cake I’d made was leftover. I gave it to the Kipps. I didn’t want to bring it home because Mike won’t eat it and I don’t need to.

I always smile whenever Lamar brings me anything in a bag. He brought back my nice clean pan. He uses this fancy-schmancy knot. You carry it by the long side and when you want to open it, you pull the short one. It’s really a cool knot.

And with that, let’s call this one done.