Scary Recipe

Here's a scary recipe, courtesy Honey Boo Boo - her family's favorite passgedi.

Let me know if it's any good.

Sunday Sunday

What a fall we've had.  Warm and dry.  Very few leaves have started to turn as evidenced by this weeping willow over the  lake.  I certainly hope it doesn't bode for a hard winter.  When I got up this morning, it was clear, then a fog rolled in.  Unusual.  It is cooler though today.

I planted a small pencil holly this morning. I love that they keep their tall narrow shape and do so without any pampering.  The glass wind chimes I hung this summer were taken down and packed away for next spring.  This wreath on the patio was coming down too, but I spied Jenny Wren perched on it - checking it out.  They love to overnight in little pockets and just as I expected, she hopped right into the middle hole, so I'll probably leave it up for her this winter.

I can't remember if I showed you this book.  I ordered it from Barnes and Noble.  Supposed to be a southern novel, in the vein of Faulkner and others.  The author is from Montana??  How can you be a southern writer from Montana?  It was worth the read, which for me is a thumbs up.  I think you know from past reviews, I like books you can't put down - want my head to explode and I'm more often than not disappointed.

Since I have found so few books of fiction that take my breath away, I've been looking for more non-fiction books.  I hope some of these will take me down a new path.  Does anyone know a good biography of Eleanor Roosevelt and also Theodore Roosevelt?  

I just finished binge watching House Of Cards last night.  Boy, can I pick em - and at the same time of the coming election. Will have to find another series to start watching.  Any suggestions?

Superstitious Wishes

I have saved many of our annual wishbones from Thanksgivings past.  Why?  I don't know.

Guess you could make a sculpture or art piece from them.

Or perhaps, display them in a pretty tableau - maybe even paint them with gold leafing, though I prefer the natural bone.

Well, I wondered how the wish part came about.  The wishbone is a furcula, or 'little fork' in Latin.  In the 1400's, it was used as a method of divination.  A goose's wishbone was dried overnight after a feast of some kind.  The elder studied it the next morning and would predict whether the winter would be severe or mild, dry or wet.  It was also an object of superstition used by warriors on whether or not to wage wars and carried as talismans.

All good, but I wanted to know where the wish came in.  As you know, the persons hold on to the furcula (I like wishbone better) and the one receiving the larger part makes the wish.  This practice developed in the 17th century and at the time was called a merrythought.  

I'd hate to pull apart an ostrich's furcula.  Ick.

Obviously, it is a rainy day here.  I guess I am pretty superstitious, the yin of wishes. The number thirteen - well I never schedule anything on that date.  I'm sure there are many more that give me pause, but I can't think of any right now.

Do you have any superstitions?  I'd like to know.

The Road Not Taken

We own a mountain - at least part of one.  Pine Mountain is beautiful countryside, wooded mostly with oak and pine, and also has a lake at the bottom.  Limestone bluffs are full of fossils from an ocean that covered this land eons ago. Also, many arrowheads and spear points and even a carved stone button from Caddoan Indians that lived here for centuries.  We have two old log cabins, mostly down except for the stone foundations.  We've dug up pottery and flower bulbs from the settlers of long ago. 

I humored my husband and went with him to his "Cabinette" on the mountain this weekend.  He is in preparation for the coming black powder deer hunting season which begins next weekend.  He and his pals all come for a ten day hunt, one of two in the fall.  It is his favorite place in the world.  He would rather go here than go to Paris or Rome.

Me, I avoid it at all costs.  We definitely go down different roads.

Here is what they call the shitter.  It is a nightmarish place with cobwebs, rodent droppings, you can imagine.  And, guess who had to go there?  The toilet seat was full of mosquitos, but I didn't see any rats or snakes.  OMG!

The 'cabinette' is basically a shanty with an old school bus at the end.  That is where the snorers sleep. They have a kitchen and all the modernities of home including satellite tv and internet hookup. It is awful and you couldn't pay me to ever sleep there.

Would you believe these guys are all professionals; doctors, bankers, etc.?

This part of the state is hillbilly country - real Deliverance kind of place. This little gem was on the road a few miles away.  Now you know why I like the city.  I'm not showing the confederate flags, etc.  Though I'll go fishing, or used to, I only go to ride the ATV's around the mountainside.

We stopped by the feed store on the way home.  All the baby fowl are back.  These baby turkeys, my favorite fowl, are sleeping.  We have no more fowl at the farm.

It was 90 degrees this day.  This box (land) turtle has been scanning the patio for caterpillars and such.  He'll go dig a hole and hibernate soon.

And this last little something at the farm, before I head back to the city.  This was the only day that wasn't filled with errands; MRI's, x-rays and a sick cat to the vet.  I'll have to take him back to the city with me to keep an eye on him.  It is very hard going back and forth, my truck filled coming and going.

PS ~ Since Boo, who is white, is going back to my all white city house, I decided to try and give him a bath last night as the outdoor cats like to roll in dust and dirt.  First and last time, with a few puncture wounds to boot.  Ever try and give a cat a bath?

The first picture reminded me of my favorite poem by Robert Frost.  I memorized it many years ago and couldn't remember it verbatim, which was unsettling.  So here it is in toto.  I hope I don't forget it again.

THE ROAD NOT TAKEN

Two roads diverged in a wood,

and sorry I could not travel both

and be one traveler, long I stood

and looked down one as far as I could

to where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair, 

and having perhaps the better claim,

because it was grassy and wanted wear;

though as for that the passing there 

had worn them both about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

in leaves no steps had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

somewhere ages and ages hence:

two roads diverged in a wood, and I -

I took the one less traveled by,

and that has made all the difference.

Saving The Monarch

I planted milkweed this spring for the Monarch butterflies, to see if it would work as fuel for their long flight to the mountains in Mexico. Sure enough, they've been lined up this week, waiting their turn to get whatever it is they get from the plant.

I have seen them flying south before a cold front at the farm.  Legions of Monarchs from high specks in the sky to ground level.  It was beautiful. 

It is hard to fathom how they know where to go, especially since they weren't born in Mexico, have no weathermen to warn of an impending cold front and their return is tenuous at best as they end up on many windshields, etc.  

The winds were fierce this week and with those thin wings acting as sails, they often had to fly past the milkweed and come back to them with the wind at their backs.  I don't know how they battled those winds.

Tulsa just recently built butterfly way stations on an piece of land.  Patches of wildflowers and milkweed to rest and feast upon before their long flight home. Deforestation and environmental practices have depleted their numbers.  I'm going to plant more milkweed next year.  

Beyond Low

 

I try to steer clear of politics and religion.  This person has all of the character traits that I abhor in a human being.

Please, use your own blog to defend this man if you must.  I don't want to know who supports him.

PS ~ last night my grandkids spent the night with me.  Bella, 9 years old, told me that Trump said to grab girls by the vagina.  How low can it go?  Not much lower.

Look Away

A blog friend mentioned she hasn't seen my booth at the antique mall, so better look away now if you scare easily.  Here are some pics from yesterday before I started moving things around.  It is full and thus, looks a mess.  I am basically just moving things around.  Sell a few things - add some new things.  Aye yay yay.

 I had an old floral hooked rug on the floor, but it was getting trashed so I took it out.  The antique tulip quilt and the homespun twin bed sized fabric are the only textiles left in the booth.  I've gone in several times to find them balled up on the floor.  The quilt is from the 1800's and in good condition as is the homespun.

I thought they would have flown out the door, but they've been there from day one.  The cradle did finally sell, but sat there for months.

Some booth owners paint their booths.  I am not kidding.  Yes, I would have liked another color than brown, but not going to happen.  I love the spare and styled booths, but I figure, with the rent, the 10 - 15% commission and card fees, if it isn't in there, it's not going to sell.

I've got some nice old baskets, but haven't sold a one.  Same with pottery.  I have a Clarice Cliff plate and a Wade pottery pitcher and don't think I could give them away.  In fact, I brought the Wade piece home as it is in perfect condition and they will break it.  

The most expensive things in the booth are the fairy painting and the french trumeau mirror which you can't see very well.  Pretty much, I am trying to get what I paid back, or even at a loss.  But, some things, the rarest, I'm not going to budge on.

Aye yay yay.  I've had several 25% off sales, but I didn't sell more, so I haven't had one in a couple of months.

There you have it.  Almost everything in the booth is old.  This mall is in an old supermarket and is huge.  I realize that means the money is stretched out over 300 booths, but it also gets lots of traffic.  From what I can tell, it is mostly the garage sale stuff that sells.  Like I said earlier, it is a new day in the antique biz.  I need a larger booth, but am not going to pay the higher cost.  So, it is just going to have to look junky. And, I've had many items disappear and broken.  

The only thing worse would be to have to take all of this back to the farm where there is more  waiting.  

River

My all time favorite singer/songwriter and muse - Joni Mitchell, from Saskatoon, Saskatchewan.  I think I know all her songs by heart, but this song seems apropo for this post.

While at the antique mall Saturday night, I found a pair of ice skates and I could not resist.  

Now a southerner knows about as much about ice skating as poutine.  It is never cold enough for long enough to skate on frozen ponds and lakes and therefore I have never tried it (plus my imagination of falling through ice is too scary for me) and, I can't even stand upright on ice and fall when it ices the sidewalks and such.

I wish I could photograph these to show you how wonderful they are.  Hand forged and carved by someone so long ago - I think they are from the early 1800's.  They just took my breath away.  Even the handmade rope is still there.

The nails for mending were even handmade.  The thoughts of where they've been touches my heart.  I'll put these out to decorate for Christmas.  And below is a photo from google that I found to share.