Apple Tasting

We went to the Farmers Market yesterday.  We hadn't been all year but SM suggested we go to shop for apples since they're in season right now and SM has eaten the last of my applesauce stash with his morning oatmeal.

I put up 30 quarts of applesauce last year and it was the perfect amount for a years worth of eating.

We're pretty picky about our apples so we usually make a day of it and drive into Hendersonville which is in the heart of apple country here in NC.  The FM can be hit or miss with apples.  You've got to be careful or you'll get less than good quality.

SM has a gasoline ass.  He can sit for hours driving here or there.  I get squirmy after an hour or two so the thought of wasting a day on the road seeing an area I'd already seen was less than thrilling.  When SM suggested we stop at the FM to see what they had, I jumped on it.

There weren't many apple specific vendors there.  Really only two that I wanted to deal with.  Everyone else's apples were waxed.  That tells me that they've been shipped from who knows where. 

I found a fellow who had a least a dozen varieties on his tables.  None of them were waxed.  I told him I was interested in several cases for saucing and for fresh eating.

I tell you this fellow gave SM and I a detailed tour of his apples.  When they were picked, which ones to pass on ("They picked these Pink Lady's too soon.  Give it a few more weeks.") and had me tasting a Cameo apple that is our favorite apple this year.

According to my expert "Cameo's taste like a Gala but don't soften as fast."

Spot on!  SM and I had juice dribbling down our chins as we each bit into an apple half.

"You're an evil man."  I told him.  "Give me a case of those too."

All told SM and I bought a case of Cameo, Stayman and another case I can't remember the name of.  I also bought a partial case of MacIntosh. 

I swear he thought less of me for doing that but Mac's and me go way back.  I could pick out a Mac blind folded.  There's just something about the flavor of a Mac that is so distinctive for me.  It's the apple I grew up with in Ohio.  I remember heading over to the local orchard with my dad and picking up some apple butter, a gallon of fresh pressed cider and a bushel of fresh Mac's.

As we loaded up the Jeep I said to SM "Do you think most people would think we're crazy buying all these apples?" 

"Most people have never tasted your applesauce.  Most folks buy a jar of Motts or Musselman's and think that's the way applesauce should taste."  We like a chunky, cinnamon applesauce. 

So now you know what I'll be up to the next few weeks.

Let The Butt Sniffing Begin

Callie-Cat has had a busy week. 

I watched, camera in hand, as she "played" with a mouse.

Such cute little ears that mousie has. 

Too bad!  We are ruthless around here!

Meeces and mices have no place around my home and I can't tell you how happy I am to have a cat around here again.

We sleep with the windows open during these crisp fall nights.  One night this past week, SM and I woke to intense yeowling outside. 

Cat Fight!  SM shot out of the bed to defend his "Little Miss", the dogs thundering down the hallway to assist.  Yours Truly turned over and snuggled under the warm covers clearly not impressed with all the fuss.  I did keep an ear out while SM wandered the yard calling "Callie...Callie" at 3am.

Casey Pig eventually came in, propped her front feet up on the bed and shook it, sticking her cold wet nose into my face as if to say... "Mom!  You're missing all the excitement!"

So I crawled out of bed in time to see SM crossing the back yard cuddling the freakin cat.

"I think she was fighting that feral cat that's been hanging around."  SM reports.

 On goes the kitchen light and he places her on the kitchen table.  "Could you check her out?" SM asks me.

So I pick up my little bundle of joy, running my hands over her, flipping her over looking for blood and guts and instead find her purring in my arms, eyes slitted with contentment.  

"She's fine."  I said.  "She sure is a fierce little thing, though."

So we decided though to start feeding her inside on the kitchen table to discourage the feral cat from trying to eat her food that we had been placing in the garage.  Callie adapted to this switch easily, which also has exposed her to having to deal with the dogs.

She runs back and forth from the cat door to the table causing the dogs to lay in wait for her.  Since the nights have been cooler she's also been hanging out on the table.  I've often come out in the middle of the night to see her stretching and meowing a greeting to me.

Yesterday I witnessed détente.  As Callie twirled around my ankles, the dogs converged.  Noses met noses and as Callie sashayed away from me, tail held high, the dogs followed, one after another as they sniffed her butt.

I think it's safe to assume we have a new Queen to rule the household. 

Dogs are like men.  As long as you can captivate them by using whatever assets you have, you can get them to do your bidding. 

Me?  I'm a good cook, back scratcher and give a decent foot massage.  SM is still hanging around so I must be doing something right.  And he follows orders without too much argument.

Callie?  She twirls on the floor purring, enticing the dogs closer, and as long as her butt smells like Fillet Mignon, I expect she can get the dogs to do her bidding.


I think my jig-saw puzzle days are over, though.  She has commandeered the kitchen table.  I can barely keep her off the laptop as it is!

kngvffffffffffnk sojmsjdwujOnkvn czosOJ

gET oFF yOU fREAKIN cAT

This Just Cracked Me Up...

Bumper Crop Of Bermuda

We had a little bit of rain Saturday night.  Probably the first rain since the 20+ inches we had back in June and July.

I tell you the tap is either full on or shut all the way off around here.

Anyhow, along with the rain came some much cooler temperatures.  Cool enough that I slipped on some yoga pants and a tight, long sleeved shirt to deter the spiders, mosquitos and assorted creepy crawlies from biting me and went out to the pasture/garden to see what's what.

I spent a delightful hour hanging upside down ripping weeds and grass out of a 10 foot section of the garden.  With all the blood rushing to my head, my menopausal brain cells actually started firing as I considered my situation. 

It's all about perspective, you see. Up close and personal my garden has definitely become a hostile territory. 

Conclusions?

Hoo Boy...This is gonna take awhile. Good thing I've got 6 months to whip this into shape.  My garden is huge and is completely grown in.  Walkways, inground beds...The only areas that look halfway decent are the raised strawberry beds. 

I can totally see why tilling all this crap under is so popular around here.  Pulling this stuff by hand might be satisfying to a certain extent but mowing, spraying and tilling is a great temptation.  Cardboard might be my only salvation.  Smothering works, but it's temporary.  Once you actually uncover the ground everything grows gangbusters again.   

Next year I'm gonna have weeds like you would not believe.  And the Bermuda grass!  It's been a bumper year for Bermuda.  I'm noticing at it's actually seeding AGAIN!  Once is not enough for this stuff.  All the weeds and Bermuda that I'm yoinking out of the garden now have left a layer of seeds that I can visibly see.  Unless I haul out the shop-vac and suck all these teeny, tiny seeds up off the ground, I'm doomed to repeat this cycle again next year. 

On the other hand, I do have a new helper in the garden.  With all the high grass I was bound to attract some rodents.  According to SM, Callie-Cat left the remains of a good sized mouse in the driveway the other day.  When SM told me it was as big as she was I told him that it must've been a rat, not a mouse.

Regardless, I'm a proud of her.  I guess it really isn't a bad thing having a freakin cat around here again. 

Just don't bring them in the house, Hmmm?

New Kicks

Getting older is interesting, isn't it?

Clearly the mirror offers us daily reminders.  Some days I look in the mirror and think "Not so bad." 

Other days I look at myself and think "Holy Crap!"

Everyday I look at the hair around my face checking out the four inches of natural growth that I'm letting come in.  I have a muddy brown color naturally so I, like half the world, have colored my hair for most of my life enhancing my rather bland palette. 

But now I'm wondering if I should keep coloring.  I'm actually thinking of going au' naturale.  I have a lovely silver halo coming in around my face.  It's actually kinda pretty. 

So I let another month go by because I'm curious.

I wonder if my stylist misses me yet.






I've been told repeatedly that after the age of 50 every day offers up a new twinge.  A new pain. 

Last week my right index finger swelled up.  My first thought was "What did I do to you?"  Casting my mind back over all the things I'd done, I couldn't think of a thing. 

"Arthritis?"  I think to myself.  Hm.  Only time will tell.  Even as I type this my finger is twinging in protest.  My grip sucks now but it's been sucking for a few years now. 

Isn't it amazing how much fun it is to try and open a bottle?



 
I mentioned in my last post that my feet have been slightly pissed off at the 4-5 miles I'd been putting in.  I gave them a few days of enforced rest but "Nope" they are still having none of it. 

Well, crap!  How can I loose this weight if I can't exercise?

So I went out this week and bought some new walking shoes.  SM told me to invest in a really good pair.  He pointed out that the cheap ass $40 Nike's that I'd been wearing weren't really protecting my feet.  

So I took it up a notch.  SM is right.  $100 shoes do feel better.  But as I'm standing there looking at the wall of shoes at Dick's, I spot a row at the very top.  These beauties were $150. 

I wondered what sort of nirvana an extra $50 would provide so, pointing at a rather attractive pair, I asked the young man for a size eleven and sat down to wait.

Dude comes back shaking his head, "Sorry, no elevens." 

But now I'm really curious about what makes a shoe worth $150 so I shrug and say "Just bring me one of those really good shoes, regardless of color."

Now I don't know if you've shopped for athletic shoes lately but there's no such thing as a subtle athletic shoe.  These puppies are loud and proud.  No doubt appealing to the younger crowd of peacocks who want to be noticed for their attractive plumage.

Dude comes out and hands me a box.  "It's all I've got."  He offers as a way of apology.

I open the box.  "Wow, now that's bright."

Hot Pink. 

In your face pink. 

Who's your Momma pink.

If it were up to me I'd never have tried them on.  But when your dogs just ain't barking but howling...

Well, beggars can't be choosers. 

And I was curious.  I've never paid more than $50 for a pair of shoes in my life.  So I slid the shoes on, tied them on carefully and stood up.

Huh. 

I walked up and down the aisle.  Not bad.  But worth $150?

So I sat down and slid off one of the shoes and put one of the $100 shoes on.  I started walking and closed my eyes.

Wow.  Definitely better cushioning.

"Whatcha think?"  Dude says.

"Sold."  I told him and walked out with the shocking pink pair. 

Back at home, SM was less than pleased that I coughed up $150 bucks for new shoes.  Clearly SM had never paid that much for a pair

"Cheaper than a visit to the podiatrist."  I toss back.

"True...and at least they'll glow in the dark so drivers can see you."  SM said.

I've been wearing my new kicks at home and at work.  The first few days I still couldn't walk more than a few blocks.  Today I did a mile and a half.  Slow and steady.  Gotta build it back up.





Hopefully.

I am starting to wonder though, what new joy might be waiting for me around the corner.

I Got Nuthin

Just in case you haven't noticed, the amount of blog posts I've been contributing has slowly dwindled.

I noticed this last month too but figured that eventually life would supply the inspirational fodder necessary for a decent topic of conversation.

So I wait.

And the days go by and it all seems rather normal and boring to me.

I mentioned this to SM the other day.  "Do you think that I've just got nothing more to say?" when I whined about my lack of posts.

"You're just in a slump.  Happens to everybody." SM says blowing me off.

Even Mom commented on my lack of posting last Saturday.  She left a voice message on the answering machine.  "You must be gone since I didn't see a post today and you're not answering your phone."

Blech.  Nothing.  Nada.




But is it really?

Let's run down a list of what HAS been happening around here lately...

We decided to keep the Jeep another year.  She's 14 years old with 254K miles on her.  I went to the bank and applied for a used car loan for $15K but after looking around at the selection, we decided to replace the old truck instead.  SM is currently working on that and in the mean time replaced my headlights and gave the old girl a waxing.  Thanks Baby!

My feet hurt.  In an attempt to remove some of the menopausal midsection that has decided to glom onto me, I've increased my mileage to 4 miles in the morning.  I was humming along pretty good until yesterday when both my dogs started barking.  Clearly, new walking shoes are in order.  And just a word to the wise.  If you're in your 40's and are overweight, take it off now!  You would not believe how hard it is to jump start your metabolism once you're over 50.  This stuff is like glue!

Callie-Cat is a fierce little thing.  The dogs all have a healthy respect for her maintaining a neutral zone of about a foot around her.  She's tempting them by doing the "twirly kitty" thing so they come closer.  I can just hear her say "Stupid dog."


 

Just a few minutes ago I heard the "yeowl" of a pissed off cat.  Someone must be trying to get her munchies in the garage.  I grabbed the flashlight but didn't see anything.  She suddenly pops out and winds herself around my ankles.  I look down and say "I'm glad you've decided to like me at least."

I'm reading Dan Browns Inferno and I'm SO TEMPTED to fling the thing back and ask for a refund.  It's the same formula as all his other books.  Just swap out the details.  Robert Langdon saves the world again by running around looking for clues!  What a bore.  (A patient recommended I read it.)  Don't bother.  Which leads me to ask "Is creativity dead?"  Vampires, werewolves, super heros, reality shows and remakes.  Is there really nothing more to say?

Hmm...Maybe everybody else has "got nuthin" too.

Evolution

Last Sunday, after SM and I came home from the grocery store, I discovered that Casey The Pig had acrobatically managed to pull a rawhide chew bone off the shelf I'd placed it on.  (Chews are given only under supervision around here.)

It was a pretty good sized bone and the only reason I knew that the crime had been committed was that each dog had a little bit of the chew still in their mouths.  I grabbed the slimy remains out of reluctant mouths and said to SM "Let the explosions begin..."

Nothing adverse happened until about 3 days later when Casey, who must've eaten the majority of the bone, started throwing up.  She seemed restless so I placed myself on high alert and started fasting her.

About midnight I woke up with Casey farting not far from the bed.  "Phewy!"

So up and outside we went.  There followed repeated lots of in and outs, along with a few midnight strolls around the block trying to get things moving. 

Casey's belly sounded like two chihuahua's were inside her fighting.

Eventually, we all calmed down long enough to get another hour of sleep in before getting up for the day.

SM, coffee in hand asked me how I slept.  "Oh, I've been up all night."  And described to him what we'd been up to.

"Just like kids, isn't it?"  He asked.

"Well, no.  At least with a kid you can ask them what they did and where it hurts.  And a kid would at least learn from the experience.  If I laid down a chewy right now, she's do the same thing all over again."  I said exasperated.

At this point we both heard a meow from the garage where Callie-Cat has taken up residence.

"A cat would never be so stupid."  I said going out and picking Callie up.  "In fact, when the comet comes and takes out all life on the planet I fully expect cats to be the ones who survive.  They're way smarter than all the rest of us."

Callie must agree since when I put her down, she sashayed over to her food bowl and waited for me to do her bidding.

"Food please.  And fresh water.  And while you're at it could you please clean out my litter box?  There's a good human."  Callie blinks at me with her green eyes.

Oh yeah.  Definitely cats.




P.S.  Later that evening Casey, after her 24 hour fast was seen tearing through the house playing with Ginny.  SM shouted, "Pig on the run!" to warn me to get the hell out of the way. 

And all is right with the world. 

For now.

Nesting

Since the garden is pretty much a pasture (except for the flowers and green peppers), I've turned my interests inward.  House and home. Freshening up the décor.  New drapes, pictures, bathroom shower curtain, stuff like that.

SM says I'm nesting.

Last weekend I went shopping.  Now please understand that shopping is my least favorite thing to do mostly because is seems like such a waste of time.  I think shopping ranks slightly below cleaning the litter box on my list of favorite things to do. 

(Yes, cleaning the litter box has now been added to my daily list of things to do.  Actually twice daily.  Callie is as predictable a pooper as the dogs are even if she won't poop on command like the rest of the gang does.  But I digress...)

I had a 4 day weekend last week and it flew by simply because I was in the mood to shop.  Oh, yes people!  I must be in the mood to shop.  I shopped 5 hours alone on Saturday.  Pier One, Home Goods, World Market, Hobby Lobby...Have you been in a Hobby Lobby lately?  I hadn't but the sign said 50% off artwork so in I went.  Holy Moly does that store have it all. 



I haven't done crafts in years but my fingers were suddenly itching to buy some canvas and acrylic paints and have at it.  Pastels were calling my name.  Charcoal pencils and drawing paper.  (I used to an big into art when I was a kid.  Haven't touched it in YEARS.)

So I spent the day shopping for ideas for the house.  And then spent 3 hours on Monday returning half of it and buying more.  Ugh.  What a cycle.

But the house does look better.  Specifically the living room and guest bath.  I ended up rearranging furniture and have now set my sights on new bedding for the master which will no doubt cost an arm and a leg.  Have you seen the price of sheets and bed covers?

SM says all this nesting is costing him an arm and a leg.  He's hoping the weather breaks soon so I'll get distracted and want to work out in the yard instead.

I hate to tell him there's no mercy out there either.  I have a tree out front I want taken down.  By professionals.  It's too close to the house for SM and I to do it.  Then there's mulch to buy and spread and Fall is always a great time to hit the nursery's for end of the year sales on perennials and trees. 

Sorry Baby, feathering this nest isn't cheap but I'll do the best I can.

It could be worse. 

I could be shopping Pottery Barn.

He Had It Coming

So I made lunch for SM the other day.

He was in a hurry as he had a 1:00 apt down in Fort Mill, so I made a quick sloppyjoe, which he told me he "greatly appreciated" as he scarfed it down.

Moments later he pecks me on the lips real quick and he grabs up his keys and bolts for the door.

"Wait a minute." I hollar at him. "You can't call that a kiss."

I started walking towards him.

He turns, see's the knife in my hand (I was in the kitchen cooking after all) and says...

"You can't seriously think I'm going to kiss you with a knife in your hand. Whataretryingtodo? Kill me?"

I point the knife away as I close in on him, kiss him lightly and looked him deeply in the eyes and said...

"Not today."

SM laughs.

I then turned on my heel, waving the knife in the air and said...

"Keep me happy and you'll live to see another day."

To which SM quoted, laughing...

"And then he ran into my knife."

"He ran into my knife ten times."

@;) 

If you'd have been there, If you'd have seen it, I betcha you would have done the same...

Mornings With Joe

When you're out at 5am walking around your neighborhood you come to know the paper guy driving around in his beater, the joggers huffing and puffing, the busy Mom's paired up together getting some exercise in before the kids wake up.

This Spring Joe and Betsy started walking the hood.  Both are in their early 70's and could be considered "retired" except for the fact that they both pick up part time work in their respective fields so they're busy folks.

We would pass each other every morning as we did our laps and say a word or two.  The pup's got to liking the "Hello" pats, scratches and attention they received from them.  When Ginny and Casey would see them down the road it was all I could do to rein them in they'd get so excited.  

One day when I ran into them I turned around and started walking with them in the direction they were headed and a friendship began.  It's the rare day that we don't walk together even if it's just for a little bit because one of us has slept in or the other has to leave early for work.

They both started walking this year as rehab after Joe's surgery.  Joe had been suffering from increasing pain in his hip and it got so bad that he finally went in to the doctor.  Turns out he had a mass between his hip and kidney that they suspected was cancer.  He went into surgery with the intention of a little, bitty biopsy scar but came out of surgery cut stem to stern. 

Joe's comment to me was "I think the surgeon got a little excited."  Turns out he has cancerous masses all over the place so they left everything alone and closed him back up.  Chemo and radiation are not advised because the masses are too close to vital organs.  He's stable for now, nothing is growing but I didn't really ask him about a prognosis.  He didn't offer one which leads me to believe that "It is what it is and you'd better make the best of what the day has to offer."

Betsy stopped walking about a month ago with a foot issue that has flared back up.  She's back in her boot.   And while it's nice to have her along, walking solo with Joe has allowed me to get to know him better. 

Joe and I meet up most mornings.  I'll toss the dogs back in the house after a mile and continue on with Joe for a couple more as we gab about this and that.  Where we've been, what we do, what we think about stuff going on in the world.  We don't talk about anything too serious.  Just stuff.

I've really come to enjoy my mornings with Joe. 

I know it won't last forever. 

Nothing does. 

But I'll take what I can get today and let tomorrow take care of itself.


I think Joe would second that thought.

All Dried Up

Remember the cockscomb I decided to dry last month?   Well, I checked it and it dried up beautifully.  And "yes" there are little black seeds in the bag.

I had some clear vases just waiting for these.  I thought about leaving them on their stalks but decided to snip them close and gently laid the flowers one on top of the other inside the vase.

The photo doesn't really do the soft texture justice.  It's not quite like velvet exactly...but close. 

I like them in the vase this way.  It will catch any remaining seeds.

I thought I better go ahead and cut the remaining cockscomb that was out in the garden and hang it to dry.  I didn't want to waste it.  While I was out there, I decided to dead head my pitiful crop of sunflowers and dry those up too. 

Just like the rest of the Summer garden, I planted several packets of seeds only to find the majority must have rotted with the monsoon we had back in June.  I got about 5-6 plants out of all that effort. 

Sunflowers in hand, I went out to the shed to check on the Copra onions I'd pulled a few weeks ago.  This is my first year with Copra's.  They're pretty small but I don't mind that.  I rather cook with small onions than those huge ones.

I really like drying stuff out in the shed.  SM's idea of using the screen door was perfect.  

You might wonder if I'll be doing a Fall garden this year.  I'm going to pass.  I have a feeling it's going to be an early, long, cold Winter.  I'm going to need the down time just to reclaim the garden from the pasture it's become.  

SM suggested we just torch the whole thing and if I didn't live in a subdivision I'd actually consider it.  It's tempting to want to rent a tiller and till it all up.  That's what most folks do around here.  Live with the weeds and till frequently.  Maybe. 

But I've got a long Winter ahead with nothing better to do than pull weeds and lay cardboard.

And try, try again. 

Next year.