Hubbie and I celebrated a wedding anniversary this week. Special events for the day included visits from the plumber and the hot tub repairman. Also, our 13-year-old Shih Tzu dog entertained us by whining with a tummy ache. It took a couple of doses of Pepto Bismol, and several hours of worrying about her before she finally settled down.
We did manage to go out to eat, though, at a local steakhouse, where the wait staff came to our table and announced our anniversary to the restaurant's patrons, rang cow bells, and then presented us with an ice cream sundae, featuring two cherries on top and two spoons for sharing (decadently delicious).
It might not have been the most romantic of days, but it was pretty symbolic of a loving marriage...shouldering the bad times together, and savoring the good.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Lessons From Ben Franklin
This afternoon, Hubbie and I attended a stage production about one of history's most beloved characters...Benjamin Franklin. The play, presented by a traveling troupe, is aimed at youngsters, and today around 500 fifth and sixth graders from area schools were bussed in to see it at a local college's theater.
Our community theater is one of the sponsors for productions like this, and since I'm on the board, I usually attend them. I find them both entertaining and educational. The dialogue is snappy, playful, and witty, but carries a message (or several messages, as was the case in this play). Several song and dance numbers helped keep this play lively and interesting, too.
The productions use minimal sets, and a limited number of actors. Today, three people - two men and one woman - portrayed multiple characters, necessitating quick costume changes behind one of the flats of the set.
The play was under an hour in length, but I hope the young audience members absorbed at least a few of the salient points that were made, like:
*persistence pays (Ben Franklin had difficulty with math as a youngster, but became a brilliant scientist in adulthood);
*freedom comes with a price (the War of Independence, and other wars since then);
*that we have the right to pursue happiness, but happiness is not guaranteed...we must work hard for what we get;
*that it takes all of us pulling together to achieve community good (building libraries, instituting fire departments, etc.);
*and never give up on your dreams. Ben Franklin was middle-aged before he flew that kite that proved that electricity exists and could potentially be harnassed.
Our community theater is one of the sponsors for productions like this, and since I'm on the board, I usually attend them. I find them both entertaining and educational. The dialogue is snappy, playful, and witty, but carries a message (or several messages, as was the case in this play). Several song and dance numbers helped keep this play lively and interesting, too.
The productions use minimal sets, and a limited number of actors. Today, three people - two men and one woman - portrayed multiple characters, necessitating quick costume changes behind one of the flats of the set.
The play was under an hour in length, but I hope the young audience members absorbed at least a few of the salient points that were made, like:
*persistence pays (Ben Franklin had difficulty with math as a youngster, but became a brilliant scientist in adulthood);
*freedom comes with a price (the War of Independence, and other wars since then);
*that we have the right to pursue happiness, but happiness is not guaranteed...we must work hard for what we get;
*that it takes all of us pulling together to achieve community good (building libraries, instituting fire departments, etc.);
*and never give up on your dreams. Ben Franklin was middle-aged before he flew that kite that proved that electricity exists and could potentially be harnassed.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Palm Trees?
Last night was crisp and shivery cold. Soft, diffused moonlight filtered through a light, gauzy haze...another of nature's light show wonders to delight us as we traveled to the second session of our ballroom dancing classes.
At the edge of town, though, there is another light show...this one is to wonder about. On the parking lot, in front of one of the restaurants, stand two fake palm trees. In the daylight, these trees seem out of place enough, because, number one, palm trees do not grow naturally in the south (at least not in our corner of the south); number two, because one of the trees is green, and the other is yellow, and I don't remember ever seeing a live yellow palm tree; and number three, the trees are in front of a Chinese restaurant. And, as we discovered last night, the trees are covered, fronds to tree trunk, in blinking lights!
There are another couple of palm trees in front of the local pool and spa store, which seem better placed than the ones in front of the Chinese restaurant, although I'm still not crazy about them. But then, I'm not crazy about plastic pink flamingos, either. I think both palm trees and pink flamingos belong in Florida, or some other seashore area. My sis would probably disagree, though, since she says she's fond of pink flamingos.
As for me, I prefer magnolias and dogwoods. But as we say in the south...whatever melts your butter.
At the edge of town, though, there is another light show...this one is to wonder about. On the parking lot, in front of one of the restaurants, stand two fake palm trees. In the daylight, these trees seem out of place enough, because, number one, palm trees do not grow naturally in the south (at least not in our corner of the south); number two, because one of the trees is green, and the other is yellow, and I don't remember ever seeing a live yellow palm tree; and number three, the trees are in front of a Chinese restaurant. And, as we discovered last night, the trees are covered, fronds to tree trunk, in blinking lights!
There are another couple of palm trees in front of the local pool and spa store, which seem better placed than the ones in front of the Chinese restaurant, although I'm still not crazy about them. But then, I'm not crazy about plastic pink flamingos, either. I think both palm trees and pink flamingos belong in Florida, or some other seashore area. My sis would probably disagree, though, since she says she's fond of pink flamingos.
As for me, I prefer magnolias and dogwoods. But as we say in the south...whatever melts your butter.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Souper Saturday
Each year, an organization I belong to holds a Souper Saturday event to raise funds. Local restaurants and individuals contribute quarts of soup to be sold on the Saturday before Super Bowl Sunday. My contribution is always 11-bean with ham and Rotel. The soup is already made and in the freezer, ready for delivery the Friday before the event.
I got the recipe for this soup many years ago at an Extension Homemakers meeting. The group decided that instead of each of us buying all eleven types of dried beans, we'd do it as a club project. Each member brought a couple of bags of bean varieties, which we mixed together and divided into freezer bags...one and one half cups per bag (enough for a recipe). That way, each of us took home several bags of beans at a nominal cost.
The club has since disbanded, and now I buy all the beans myself, divide them, and put them in the freezer to use all year long. It's less expensive than buying individual bags off the grocery shelf.
If you'd like to try this, just use a grocery bag, or a plastic tote to mix these varieties of dried beans together:
4 lbs. pinto beans
4 lbs. great northern beans
2 lbs. navy peas
1 lb. lima beans
2 lbs. baby lima beans
1 lb. red beans
1 lb. kidney beans
1 lb. black beans
1 lb. blackeyed peas
1 lb. split green peas
1 lb. lentils
ELEVEN BEAN SOUP
Wash one and a half cups beans, drain, and soak overnight. Drain beans again.
In a large pan, like a Dutch oven, add to the beans:
Two quarts of water
A meaty ham bone, or a ham slice, cut into chunks
One medium chopped onion
Four medium banana peppers, seeded and chopped (optional)
One clove of garlic, or the equivalent of garlic in a jar
The juice of one lemon, or the equivalent of bottled lemon juice
One can of Rotel tomatoes
Seasoning salt (recipe in an earlier blog), or salt and pepper to taste
Simmer until the beans are tender.
Note: the addition of banana peppers is my own personal touch. I add them to many of my recipes, like soups, stews, pinto beans with ham, and Italian sauces. They don't add an overpowering flavor of their own, but seem to just meld the other flavors.
I got the recipe for this soup many years ago at an Extension Homemakers meeting. The group decided that instead of each of us buying all eleven types of dried beans, we'd do it as a club project. Each member brought a couple of bags of bean varieties, which we mixed together and divided into freezer bags...one and one half cups per bag (enough for a recipe). That way, each of us took home several bags of beans at a nominal cost.
The club has since disbanded, and now I buy all the beans myself, divide them, and put them in the freezer to use all year long. It's less expensive than buying individual bags off the grocery shelf.
If you'd like to try this, just use a grocery bag, or a plastic tote to mix these varieties of dried beans together:
4 lbs. pinto beans
4 lbs. great northern beans
2 lbs. navy peas
1 lb. lima beans
2 lbs. baby lima beans
1 lb. red beans
1 lb. kidney beans
1 lb. black beans
1 lb. blackeyed peas
1 lb. split green peas
1 lb. lentils
ELEVEN BEAN SOUP
Wash one and a half cups beans, drain, and soak overnight. Drain beans again.
In a large pan, like a Dutch oven, add to the beans:
Two quarts of water
A meaty ham bone, or a ham slice, cut into chunks
One medium chopped onion
Four medium banana peppers, seeded and chopped (optional)
One clove of garlic, or the equivalent of garlic in a jar
The juice of one lemon, or the equivalent of bottled lemon juice
One can of Rotel tomatoes
Seasoning salt (recipe in an earlier blog), or salt and pepper to taste
Simmer until the beans are tender.
Note: the addition of banana peppers is my own personal touch. I add them to many of my recipes, like soups, stews, pinto beans with ham, and Italian sauces. They don't add an overpowering flavor of their own, but seem to just meld the other flavors.
Troubled Waters at Water Aerobics
Since the pool was closed during the college's five-week winter break, water aerobics was suspended, too, until January 14. A large group of us gathered that chilly Monday morning to learn that the lady who leads us in our routine had a freak accident the previous Saturday that resulted in a broken shoulder. A gate she opened caught in a blustery wind, and in an attempt not to fall, she tightened her grip, which jerked her shoulder so violently that it broke. The injury was severe enough to require complicated surgery.
Since she is to be away from water aerobics for an extended time, the alternate leader took over to lead us Monday, Wednesday, and Friday of last week. But yesterday morning, when I walked into the dressing room, one of the ladies told me that the alternate leader's husband suffered a life-threatening heart attack over the weekend, and had undergone triple bypass surgery.
The third alternate leader could not be reached, so the lady who brought the bad news and I stood in the dressing room wondering what we should do. She had had the presence of mind to get the boom box and music tapes from our usual leader, so I suggested that the two of us conduct the class as best we could. She agreed. She would man the boom box and watch the time to keep us within our 45-min. session, and I would lead the group in a routine. It wasn't exactly the way our leader would have done it, but we got all the moves in anyway. And it was a new experience for me. We never fully appreciate another's job until we are called upon to do it ourselves!
With luck, our third alternate leader will be on board tomorrow. I've been asked to be sure to be there just in case, which is a sweet compliment, because I'm confident that another in this very supportive group would readily step forward if I couldn't be there.
Since she is to be away from water aerobics for an extended time, the alternate leader took over to lead us Monday, Wednesday, and Friday of last week. But yesterday morning, when I walked into the dressing room, one of the ladies told me that the alternate leader's husband suffered a life-threatening heart attack over the weekend, and had undergone triple bypass surgery.
The third alternate leader could not be reached, so the lady who brought the bad news and I stood in the dressing room wondering what we should do. She had had the presence of mind to get the boom box and music tapes from our usual leader, so I suggested that the two of us conduct the class as best we could. She agreed. She would man the boom box and watch the time to keep us within our 45-min. session, and I would lead the group in a routine. It wasn't exactly the way our leader would have done it, but we got all the moves in anyway. And it was a new experience for me. We never fully appreciate another's job until we are called upon to do it ourselves!
With luck, our third alternate leader will be on board tomorrow. I've been asked to be sure to be there just in case, which is a sweet compliment, because I'm confident that another in this very supportive group would readily step forward if I couldn't be there.
Ballroom Dancing
Hubbie and I started ballroom dancing classes last week. In my wildest dreams, I never thought we'd be doing this...at least, I never thought my husband would agree to do it.
A few months ago, at the beauty salon, one of the hairdressers remarked that she and her husband had been having a blast taking dance lessons.
"You and your husband should try it," she said.
"There's no way I could drag him to it," I announced, emphatically. In the 27 years we've been married, when he was called upon to do it, he very reluctantly took the dance floor...and then only when the music was slow enough that it required a simple sway-step-sway movement.
Later that day, I relayed the conversation to Hubbie. "You know," he said, "I've always wanted to learn to dance."
What!!?
"Well, I just never had the opportunity to learn in the small community where I grew up, but I've always wanted to be able to dance."
Knock me over with a feather! Okay!! I've always loved to dance, but was resigned to not doing much of it with Hubbie.
I immediately called the dance studio and arranged to get us into the next eight-week class. I got us in just under the wire, as the last couple to register in the only class with one opening left. He was surprised, but pleased, to get the lessons as one of his Christmas gifts.
He was a little nervous at our first session, but warmed to it as the class went along. It helped that there are at least two other couples in our age-range attending the class. It also helped that we weren't the only couple stumbling our way through the session, a lesson on the basic four- steps-square that serves for waltz, tango, and foxtrot.
We've practiced at home a couple of times, but we are awaiting an online order of music CDs suited to ballroom dancing to really get into it.
Watch out "Dancing with the Stars!"
A few months ago, at the beauty salon, one of the hairdressers remarked that she and her husband had been having a blast taking dance lessons.
"You and your husband should try it," she said.
"There's no way I could drag him to it," I announced, emphatically. In the 27 years we've been married, when he was called upon to do it, he very reluctantly took the dance floor...and then only when the music was slow enough that it required a simple sway-step-sway movement.
Later that day, I relayed the conversation to Hubbie. "You know," he said, "I've always wanted to learn to dance."
What!!?
"Well, I just never had the opportunity to learn in the small community where I grew up, but I've always wanted to be able to dance."
Knock me over with a feather! Okay!! I've always loved to dance, but was resigned to not doing much of it with Hubbie.
I immediately called the dance studio and arranged to get us into the next eight-week class. I got us in just under the wire, as the last couple to register in the only class with one opening left. He was surprised, but pleased, to get the lessons as one of his Christmas gifts.
He was a little nervous at our first session, but warmed to it as the class went along. It helped that there are at least two other couples in our age-range attending the class. It also helped that we weren't the only couple stumbling our way through the session, a lesson on the basic four- steps-square that serves for waltz, tango, and foxtrot.
We've practiced at home a couple of times, but we are awaiting an online order of music CDs suited to ballroom dancing to really get into it.
Watch out "Dancing with the Stars!"
Sixty-Something Can be Sobering
To keep from shopping for greeting cards one-by-one as events arise, I buy them by the stack...mainly birthday, that I stow away in a special file drawer. If I didn't do it this way, I'd be shopping for cards several times a month to satisfy the over 60 family and friends birthdays listed on our calendar.
For the past three or four years, though, I've found I have to include sympathy cards in my stack. This year, I bought a half a dozen, based on the number of friends and family who passed away last year.
Being sixty-something can be sobering. Every day, the newspaper obits seem to list just about as many folks who died in their sixties as those who made it to their seventies and eighties. I have a few more years of my sixties left yet, but it's a tenuous grip, I know, before I fall kicking and screaming into my seventies.
My father lived into his eighties, and my mother will pass the mid-mark of her eighties this year, so I'm trusting that I've inherited their strong genes. Certainly, I'd like to live many more years, but only if I can be healthy, active, and productive. To that end, my part will be to continue monitoring my diet, keep up my exercise regimen, heed my physician's advice, challenge my brain, do useful work, and involve myself in the community.
After that, it is, prayerfully, in God's hands.
For the past three or four years, though, I've found I have to include sympathy cards in my stack. This year, I bought a half a dozen, based on the number of friends and family who passed away last year.
Being sixty-something can be sobering. Every day, the newspaper obits seem to list just about as many folks who died in their sixties as those who made it to their seventies and eighties. I have a few more years of my sixties left yet, but it's a tenuous grip, I know, before I fall kicking and screaming into my seventies.
My father lived into his eighties, and my mother will pass the mid-mark of her eighties this year, so I'm trusting that I've inherited their strong genes. Certainly, I'd like to live many more years, but only if I can be healthy, active, and productive. To that end, my part will be to continue monitoring my diet, keep up my exercise regimen, heed my physician's advice, challenge my brain, do useful work, and involve myself in the community.
After that, it is, prayerfully, in God's hands.
Another Sixty-Something Birthday
Sis and I, who are ten years and ten days apart in age, celebrated birthdays this month. She spent the week with us recently, and we enjoyed our favorite meals, shopping, visiting the art gallery, working jigsaw puzzles with Mother, and playing card games (Hubbie included).
My son and daughter-in-law joined us on Saturday of that week. Sis was here long enough to visit with them before she had to return home after lunch. Son and daughter-in-law stayed overnight. Daughter-in-law loves jigsaw puzzles, too, so we completed another couple of 500-piece ones during the weekend.
When we had completed the second one on Sunday morning, Mother, an avid jigsaw puzzler, admitted that she had finally OD'd on them. We'd worked about 12 of them between Christmas and this weekend.
Saturday evening, we played Michigan Rummy, at daughter-in-law's request. She beat the socks off us, taking large pots of chips at the king and queen of hearts, and the 7-8-9 of any suit, that had built up after a couple of hours of playing.
Daughter-in-law had also been looking forward to a session in the hot tub, but Hubbie discovered that the tub isn't heating as it should. Disappointment. Don't know when the tub can be repaired, since the closest business that works on them is a couple of hours away, and budget-conscious Hubbie asked that a repairman come and check it when he's in this area again, rather than make a special, charged-to-us trip.
Despite the hot tub glitch, it was a pleasant, restful week.
My son and daughter-in-law joined us on Saturday of that week. Sis was here long enough to visit with them before she had to return home after lunch. Son and daughter-in-law stayed overnight. Daughter-in-law loves jigsaw puzzles, too, so we completed another couple of 500-piece ones during the weekend.
When we had completed the second one on Sunday morning, Mother, an avid jigsaw puzzler, admitted that she had finally OD'd on them. We'd worked about 12 of them between Christmas and this weekend.
Saturday evening, we played Michigan Rummy, at daughter-in-law's request. She beat the socks off us, taking large pots of chips at the king and queen of hearts, and the 7-8-9 of any suit, that had built up after a couple of hours of playing.
Daughter-in-law had also been looking forward to a session in the hot tub, but Hubbie discovered that the tub isn't heating as it should. Disappointment. Don't know when the tub can be repaired, since the closest business that works on them is a couple of hours away, and budget-conscious Hubbie asked that a repairman come and check it when he's in this area again, rather than make a special, charged-to-us trip.
Despite the hot tub glitch, it was a pleasant, restful week.
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