A quick lap quilt for Cappy's Mom in the nursing home. A recipe box for son, Thom, and some pot holders for Cappy's boat galley.
We PROMISE to blog fresh stuff soon...forgive this Fav post from last year:I'm Mrs. Green Christmas, I'm Mrs. Sun...
This was the scene out my window every year. Although most everybody else I know/knew in western NY just love to go out and frolic in the snowy weather, I preferred to stay in cuz it was COLD out there. I still talk to people who say, "Oh, I love the cold". Good for them. It's just not for me, and never has been, even when I was younger.
I'd go out for rides in a warm car, stuff like that. I know how to drive in deep snow. I remember having to drive one morning before the snow plows went through, and having to guess where the road was, hoping not to drive into a ditch. I made it ok.
I know my Aunt Bev hates the cold, too, but it's mostly my fault. She and I are only 20 days apart. (Imagine your Mom and Grandmother both being pregnant at the same time. I 'won', so I'm older. She holds every one of those 20 days over my head..."You're OLD". So, I don't call her Aunt, either.)
Well, anywaze...Yeah, it's kinda my fault Bev got her fingers frozen when we were wild and crazy teenagers. I had this nerdy boyfriend (Paul), who ended up being Bev's boyfriend later on. She was having dental work cuz, as she put it, her teeth were all "snaggle-toothed", and it made her chin jut way out, kinda lantern-jawed. But, anyhow, because Paul got to drive his parents' car around, we three, Bev, Paul and I went on a lot of excursions together, summer and winter, which was fun.
One night a few days before Christmas, Bev and Paul got the idea to buy some 'liquor' to celebrate the holidays. Oh sure...I was innocent...I thought it was a great idea, too. Paul was old enough to buy it, but we were only 16. He came back out of the store with some "Triple Applejack"...a cheap wine, of sorts. It was pretty yucky tasting. Not sure what ol' Paul thought of it, but Bev pretty much liked the taste of it.
We had driven, in a snow storm, along a country road, then stopped so Bev could get out and 'potty'. By that time, she was pretty 'wasted'. I had to get out and help her over a snowbank, out of sight, get her tight girdle down, so she could 'go', then try to reverse the procedure. The poor girl was roaring drunk, singing at the top of her lungs, staggering around in snow up to our thighs. I had to sit her down on the edge of the snow bank and told her to fling her legs over the top of it, to get to the other side and back to the car. She kept trying, saying, "I just FLING my legs over the shnow banKK...", but her legs wouldn't go. She looked me earnestly in the eye and said, "I hope I don't throw up in my sleeve....ok, just FLING my leg UP over the shnow banKK", but it still didn't go. "What do you mean, 'throw up in your sleeve??', I asked. "Kathy (another friend of ours) got drunk one time and didn't have anywhere to throw up, so she opened the cuff of her sleeve and threw up in it". Bleckkk. "Well, that's not going to happen to you..you aren't going to do that...hold on, let me get Paul, so he can help me get you back into the car".
Once we got her back into the warm car, we took the bottle away from her, and got the car in motion. We were starting to worry, cuz the storm had turned into a blizzard, and visibility was getting bad. The car went a little ways up the slight hill, then the wheels started spinning. Paul tried backing the car back down the hill, but it slid into Bev's "shnowbankKK" and got stuck. Oh Oh. Now what? This was before cell phones. This was WAY back. Bev was wearing a 'girdle', remember?
I said that I thought I remembered seeing a house not far from where we were, but it was sitting up a long driveway on a hill. Paul, continued to try to spin us out of there, with his Dad's car. He did manage to back us up into the ditch at the end of the driveway I'd seen. And again, Now what?
Well, we could walk up to the house and call a tow truck to get us out. Paul, for sure, didn't dare call his parents. The alcohol and all. (and this was even way back before they 'carded' people) Still, his father wouldn't have appreciated we three 'nice' Church Kids having liquor, and in his car, no less.
Since Bev had gotten the bottle back again, with what little was left in it and was patting it and singing Christmas Carols, loudly, Paul and I talked over her trying to figure out what to do. It was a long freezing walk, but we decided that he and I would trudge to the house that looked so warm with lights shining from the windows, and leave Bev in the warm car, bundled up, ...with her bottle, and we'd be RIGHT back. For her to just stay put! We'd be RIGHT back. She said, "OK".
The icy air blew right through our coats, freezing us. We finally made it to the house and knocked on the door. A nice lady answered, and brought us right inside. We put on our best Sunday School manners and demure politeness, and explained that our car was stuck at the end of their driveway, and that my aunt was staying warm in the car waiting for us. Well, of course she let Paul make a phone call, then insisted on making us some tea to warm us up from that walk up the hill. Her house was all pretty, cozy and quiet, and she was so sweet. I daintily picked up the china cup, making sure to keep my little pinky finger up, and was about to take my first sip, when suddenly there was a thundering pounding on the back door. The lady was embarrassed, and asked no-one in particular, "What...who in the world is that??", as she made her way toward the door. The door flew open, slamming itself, loudly into the hall wall. The poor lady fell back against the same wall, shocked and horrified at the sight that just barged into her house! There was Bev, hair frozen in a hundred different directions, wild-eyed, jaw jutted way out, exposing snaggled-teeth, as I'd never seen them before. She looked like an abominable snow monster! She was covered in snow, and vomit was dripping out of her sleeve onto the lady's immaculatly cleaned floor. I stammered weakly, "Oh...it's my aunt." The lady shrieked, "Your AUNT??!" Bev wanted none of it...she pushed past the lady and said, "I just want to lay down on your red couch and throw up" The lady sprung at her and wailed, "Noooo, that's my new couch, I just got that as an early Christmas present!"
Poor Bev. Poor lady. Bev's fingers were about frozen. I don't know what happened to her gloves...probably lost in a shnow bankK on the way up the hill. She'd got tired of waiting, she said. She nearly froze, too, on the way up the hill, then when she got there, she looked in the window and saw us sitting there all warm and cozy having tea. She was really ticked. She still is today.
Eventually, the tow truck came and pulled us out. I don't know if Paul ever told his Dad what happened.
Bev doesn't have a computer or she'd be on here telling you how much she still gags whenever she hears the words, "Triple Applejack", and how it's my fault...and Paul's that she hates the cold, cuz of us.
Like Peg said earlier I am home. Got in yesterday and crawled in bed to sleep off a hard hitch. We were short-handed for the last 2 weeks, so I was exhausted, having had too few hours of sleep for too many days. We were up this morning very early to go to 7:00 AM Mass. When we got home we found the yard littered with pecans; seems the North wind and frost knocked lots of 'em off the trees. Shame on for ya for thinkin I meant any thing else:-)
Cappy came home with a camera loaded full of God's beautiful nature, but he is so whooped, he told me to post one picture and tell ya'll he'll be putting more on later.
Done, and did.
As for me, I've still got some crafts and cards to work on, plus, I have practice for the choirS. And HEY! I just got one of my Christmas gifts today!! Wait til you HEAR what it is...I don't think you'd ever guess in a million years. Think Cajun hubby. ( I LOVE this gift!)
In the meantime, I've painted the kitchen a sunwashed yellow, which Cappy has not seen yet, but he's already commented on the color, "Sunwashed yellow....if I didnt' know better, I'd say it was Butter colored, which is what anyone would expect in a chubby Cajun's house." Well, he knows me alright, I guess it really is butter colored.
I really love the picture that Snow and Boo aka Taylor and Teri, from Canada made for us. I went out and got the material for a Mrs. Santa skirt, the hat she (I) am wearing in the picture, the white fur, and white gloves. I found the dark red velvet blouse, and have a white turtleneck. The ladies in the church are having a Christmas party and want us to dress up in whatever seasonal costumes we want, so I plan on wearing that. Cappy and I plan on taking Dan, again, to the Celebration Under the Oaks at night again and dressing up for it. People were waving and calling to "Santa!" Cappy all night, even on the ride there, from their cars. I am looking forward to this next two weeks so very much.
Taking a deep breath...letting out a long sigh. It means that I have to get "Ol' Betsy" back down out of the cupboard so she can make my Mrs. Santa Claus outfit. The only problem is that she'll probably want me to help. HELP!!!
Crazy-Bizzy Here, Like You Are, so I'm Re-Posting This Blog From Christmas Past: The Memory of All That...no no, they can't take that away from me..
I really missed them this year for Christmas. I don't miss all the hectic other stuff that always seemed to be a part of the holidays, not counting the usual deadlines of shopping, sewing, baking, and hiding gifts.
I guess I brought a lot of it on myself. Since I taught Sunday School, I wanted to have the children participate in the traditional plays and singing at church. For some darned reason, I was always 're-inventing the wheel', so to speak. I took it upon myself to write my own plays instead of using ones already written, make costumes, decorations and scenery, instead of asking for help or delegating others to help. Then I micro-managed every detail. Then after Christmas I would collapse in relief that I had pulled it off again, resolving not to EVER do all that again.
The above picture reminds me of the Christmas I arranged a manger scene near the pulpit at our church, made a life-sized cardboard donkey, that stood next to it, had the little shephard boys in their bathrobes and towels over their heads to complete their outfits. I had Sookie, dressed in white like a little angel, with gold tinsel over her head for a halo, standing on a secure table to 'hover' above the piano(...believe me, she was safe there). Naomi, our "Mary", who was about 8 years old, was very good at her flute lessons, and she had practiced playing, "Silent Night" to perfection.
I had borrowed one of Sookie's bald-headed baby dolls to play the part of Baby Jesus, to lie in the 'manger'. To make the effects even more dramatic, we put a light bulb attached to a dimmer switch, under the 'Baby Jesus' head, so that when 'Mary's' "Silent Night" got to a most poignent part of the song, the church lights would dim, and the 'Baby Jesus' head would glow steadily brighter! What an awesome sight in the hush of the dark church it would be.
It was a most wonderful Christmas Eve service leading up to our little play. Our little troupe was well-rehearsed and ready to go. Smaller children can be hard to deal with sometimes in these situations, but not these...they quietly and reverently went right to their positions. First they sweetly sang the little carols we had practiced, then to close, 'Mary' played her hauntingly beautiful flute to the 'Baby Jesus', while the other children; 'Joseph', the 'three wise kings', the 'shephards', and the 'angel' above them, all looked adoringly down on the 'Babe in the Manger'. As the lights in the church began to dim, the individual notes of the flute wafted through the darkness, our emotions were building with Joy and the the head of the "Baby" began to grow brighter and brighter, when 'Mary', between notes, grabbed the head of 'Baby Jesus' and flung him across the room, under the first row of pews, then just as serenely put her flute back to her mouth, and resumed her song til the end. While she was finishing, the church lights came back on to find 'Joseph' and the rest of the manger scene standing frozen staring at the 'Baby' laying on the floor under somebody's feet. After the song, all the children walked quietly back to their seats as though it was all a part of the play. (What in the heck??? Had they planned this without my knowing it?? Why???) Nobody said a word about it, and the service ended as it usually did. Had my eyes deceived me? I did see her fling 'Our Lord' under the pews, hadn't I? I caught up with Naomi aka 'Crazy Mary', and asked, "Why did you DO that???" She said nonchalantly, "His head got hot and was smoking". (Oh?)
I noticed Sookie was holding her little bald-headed doll close to her, having rescued it from where it had been thrown. She reluctanly let me examine the head, and indeed there was a little black dot about the size of a pencil eraser. The poor thing. Sookie insisted we put a bandaid on it for a week or so.
That may not have been the last little play the kids had performed in, but for her,that's the last time any of her baby-dolls or any toy ever volunteered to participate in them.
Thank you, Taylor and Teri...aka Snow and Boo...I can't remember when I've been so overwhelmed by anything like this from anyone. God Bless your Dear Hearts this whole Christmas Season and beyond. Love,
Cappy and Pegody aka Ray and Peggy
Glenn and Veronica invited me to join their family this year for Thanksgiving. Glenn is a long time friend of Cappy's from out on the water. They had been on the same boat together, but he's a boat captain now, on another boat, so they don't get to see each other very often, but talk either on the cell phone, or on their boat radios as they pass by one another along the waterways. I apologize that my pictures didn't turn out the best...the lemon bars I made for them, for example; they look a little green and yechy. I made them from the lemons from our tree in the yard, the crust, which...grrr, rose to the top, was made from the pecans from our trees, and the sugar, most likely from the Domino's plant in New Orleans where the sugar cane which grows all around our neighborhood and town, is processed. I promise you they were gooood. I'd never made them before, but they tasted like lemon meringue pie, sans the meringue. I think the other pictures turned out great, tho. Glenn and Veronica are warm and fun people, and so is their family. As usual, I'm not that good at remembering names, so I forgot who is who, a lot of the time. The woman sitting at the table is Prisilla, and I really like her because she always has a smile on her face and has a merry laugh. I honestly can't, for the life of me remember the names of the other people in the room, except for maybe one of them, whom I was introduced to as "Fat Boy" (I'm blushing here...I hope it's ok to say on the blog) but I never really got his real name. A nephew's name was Bobby, who also makes his living out on the water driving a crewboat. He used to be an artist in NYC, went to clown school and was a professional clown named Bo-Beaux (pronounced Bo-Bo) as per the Cajun French spelling down in this area...pretty cool, eh? The doggy who is mooching turkey morsels is Rufus. What a SWEET boy! If I coulda brought him home with me, I woulda, but his people parents wouldn't let me; they are attached to him the same way I am to my 'boys'. Oh, rats, as usual, the blogger got the pictures in the order it wanted them, and not the way I intended. The deep-fried turkey ended up down in the cow pasture pictures below.
After dinner, most of the guests left, so Glenn and Veronica took me out to show me their beautiful cows. You can tell these are their 'babies', too. They were so gentle and soft to the touch. If I hadn't been wearing black dress clothes,instead of blue jeans, which I swear I will be wearing next time, I would have had my arms around the necks of some of them.
One of their son's, Phillip and his wife, who is expecting their second child in the Spring, live on the same property in a gorgeous 'double-wide'...castle, as I put it. They lost their other home last year when right after hurricane Katrina blasted the New Orleans area, Hurricane Rita destroyed so much property in South-West Louisiana. The tiny FEMA trailor, which they had to live in until their new home arrived, still sits outside in their driveway waiting for FEMA to come back and pick it up. I didn't get the opportunity to get Phillip's wife, Rackel's picture, as she had a lot of family and friends visiting, and we kinda/sorta barged into the scene so I could get a grand tour. It's VERY nice.
Phillip and Rackel's daughter is Bryleigh, who is 3 years old. She was tired and cranky that day, doing a fine job of being a three-year old. When we got into Phillip's house, it sounded like a child was screaming the paint off the walls, but three seconds later, in her grandmother's arms (Veronica) she, all of a sudden the sweetest, prettiest little girl. Veronica, says, "Oh yeah. She's spoiled for sure." She just wanted her Grandma. I know how she feels sometimes. I'd still like to climb up on my grandma's big cozy lap on some days.