7.30.2008
A Note From Our Friend, Linda From New Hampshire
http://angelwinks.net/card.cgi?0726082534165489
7.29.2008
Deer Hunting At Work
A Young Swamp Eagle
Egrets On The Nest
7.22.2008
Okra "on the Hoof"
Smothered Okra
3 pounds of sliced okra
3 tablespoons cooking oil
2 onions, chopped
1 pound of diced Cajun sausage (or Hillshire, or facsimile, if you can't locate Cajun sausage)
5 cloves of garlic minced
1 can of Rotel original tomatoes
1/2 a bell pepper, chopped
1 tablespoon of Worstershire sauce
1 tablespoon Cajun spice
hot sauce to taste
Saute` onions and sausage together with the oil in a Large skillet or Dutch oven. Add the rest of the ingredients, in no particular order and cook uncovered. (<--This would probably horrify most Cajuns, but it works ok for me, Pegody.) Stir often to prevent sticking or burning. Deglaze, if necessary, with whatever is handy; water, broth, beer or wine. I let it simmer for about an hour, once it has really started cooking down. I don't think it's possible to over-cook this dish, as the more it cooks down, the better. Tah-dah.
7.20.2008
Going Bananas
This time I was determined to get witnesses. I ran to the nearest house, banged loudly on the door til someone answered. A man in his mid-thirties opened the door, and I started yelling "Look at that! LOOK at that!" and pointed toward the sky over that way. He only stood there looking at a weirdo who had been pounding on his door and now stood there practically foaming at the mouth. I finally got him and his wife to run out and watch it pass over us. By then there were several people standing in the middle of the dark street, on the sidewalks, everywhere just gaping up at the silent blackness with the 'running lights' ever so slowly moving along in the sky, not that far above our heads toward us. As it passed over the noiseless crowd, the sound of absolute nothingness was scarey. Who knew what could happen at most any second. We all stood there frozen, in awe, hearts racing, breathless. The moments were raw and powerful. Anything was possible. It kept moving and moving and moving, as we pivoted, our faces glued to it's presence, we turned to watch it, until the trees in the neighborhood blocked our view. All at once it was if everyone drew a collected breath, then began chattering excitedly about what they had just seen and several of them started running down the street to get another view. It was over and I'd seen enough, so I went about my business and entered the prayer meeting late. When I told them what I'd seen, they wailed, "Why didn't you come and get us...it's only just down the street! What did the lights look like?" I guess it's because I had been immersed in raising five children and watched enough Sesame Street to last a lifetime, that I blurted out that they were shaped like Kermit the Frog's eyes.
They looked at me kind of funny, maybe trying to remember what in the heck a particular Muppet's eyes looked like. We got on with the meeting, but on the way home I stopped at the State Police to inquire as to whether anyone had reported seeing this UFO, and maybe learn if it was some kind of military aircraft. By then I had resumed my composure, enough to think I could make an intelligent query about it. Still, the guys behind the desk seemed bemused, exchanged glances with each other and chortled, "nooo, we haven't had any reports of a UFO sighting tonight". When they asked about what the lights looked like, I mentioned again, that the only way I could describe them was the shape of Kermit the Frog's eyes. Well, I shouldnta done that. I suppose you can imagine the impression that had on them, even when I told them I had witnesses 'this time'. Smarting, I stomped back to my car, vowing to never see anything out of the ordinary in the sky, even if I did see anything out of the ordinary in the sky. It was the middle of the 1970's, so I speculated that our government, or some government might be advanced enough now to put most anything up there. And, see? now, even after all these years, Ol' Larry King's guests, who are supposed to be on the cutting edge of such things...are still arguing the pros and cons about the validity of the whole subject. I turned off the tv, grumbled, "I know what I saw", then fell asleep, finally.7.18.2008
7.16.2008
A Dream Job
Yesterday, since Cappy was going to be in Houma having some repair work done on one of his engines, and I had some shopping to do, he had me meet up with him to bring him and 'da guys' a few treats. The young tankerman, David, is especially fond of watermelon, so Cappy had me pick one up to 'surprise' him. David is a young man, about college age, a very hard and conscientious worker, who dreams of icy cold watermelons while he is dashing about the barge, all hot and sweaty. The pay is pretty good, so David is staying on the boat, with very little time 'on land', to be able to pay cash for the new vehicle he is also dreaming about. Out there on the boats it's very unusual to find workers with a very high level of intelligence, but David has that. Like Cappy, he uses the many hours, days, and weeks, where they are surrounded by quiet and God's beauty, such as the vast sky at night, to think deeply about things. Perhaps because of observing a sense of perfection in nature and within the universe, they would hope to find that within their own sphere of life. David sent me a link to his blog, whereby he was musing about...well, things one would expect to find a young man David's age to be thinking about; girls, women, love. I thought it gives a good insight into his thought processes, and probably of a lot of the guys out on the boats, who don't have David's talent for writing, but still, think and feel the way he does. It's a good window to peek into. With David's permission, here is his post (email correspondence attached):Hey miss Peggy! Capt told me that you were interested in reading my blog, so I wanted to email you a copy.He was telling me that sometimes you write as a form of therapy, and thats exactly what this was for me. I've never been much of a writer, but I've come to find that it really helps me sort my thoughts. I wrote this blog after many days of evaluation over an issue that was very touchy for me! Once I reached a conclusion, I decided to write about it so I could let it go, in a way. I've received a great response since I posted it and I hope you enjoy it!
By the way, the watermelon you brought us was DELICIOUS!!!! Thank you so much ;) Dave
*AM I ASKING TOO MUCH?!?*
I have been told by two women (one that I dated and one that was only a potential mate)that the expectations and standards to which I hold women are too high. The first time I was told this, I was quick to defend myself and state that, "I just know what I want." After my most recent relationship ended, my ex said to me, "Your expectations are too high, and you don't know how to love someone for who they are!" I allowed her to say the things that she needed, without arguing my beliefs on my "lofty expecatations." Tension was so high at the time, that I was really just trying to avoid a breakdown in communication. After that conversation, I really started to ponder the things that have been said about my vision of what a women should be. Or rather, what I personally look for in a partner. I have always been a deep thinker, and am readily willing to analyze situations to better understand why I feel a certain way about an issue. I have always stood strongly by my vision of the ideal partner, but it became important for me to truly evaluate my stance, to know the exact reasons why. I thrive on analyzation! I like not only to know the core of an issue, but to break it down and have an understanding of all the underlying reasons. I spent many days in thought, truly asking myself, are my expectations too high?.. It has been an enlightening period of self-realization and I have come to a definitive conclusion. I have taken many things into account, including my actions and the actions of my partner. Things that I give in relationships and expect to be returned. Whether or not I overlook the little things. And if some of my personal needs are impossible for others to provide. Even after weighing out all of these things, and the arguments of these two women, I maintain with more clarity, that my expectations are not too high. They simply weed out the less than desirable from the elite. I have a lot to offer and I want a woman that can give me the same things in return. I only ask for the things that I give to be equally reciprocated.
Is that too much to ask?
END
Cappy will tell you, it's very trying for the guys out on the boats to have relationships work well. It's difficult to keep a young woman interested, while there's so much going on at home; "partying", etc., as she's waiting weeks at a time for her guy to get off the boat. We've heard of so many marriages breaking up, even for those who have been married for years and years. It's just so sad. Being a "parrot on Cappy's shoulder", I've listened to him talking on the radio, trying to comfort and old friend, who's wife just 'up' and left him. And this has happened several times. Such is the life of the men who work out on the water...it's typical all over the world, I'm sure. I just hope Dave finds his dream girl. Cappy's had his ol' heart broken before. I want to make it up to him, for all the trouble he's gone through. An' I don't wanna "party" when he's not around; by the time he gets back on that boat, after two weeks of him being home, I'm all "partied out". He "parties" us the whole time, running here or there, fishing, bbqing, making work fun, road trippin'...I need the time he's on the boat to get rested and ready for the next time he gets off the boat. I do admit it's not easy bein' "John Wayne", tending to all the stuff, when he's away,out there on the boat, earning our living. He tells me I'm a good Cappy's wife, and that just thrills me. I do try hard. But this sweet man is worth it.
He's growing his 'Santa Claus' beard, to be ready when we go visit the grandchildren in the Fall. And so, I loaded him up with a few videos, some of his favorite nut munchies, some reading supplies, and the beloved watermelon. Sweets for the sweet, I say.
So, off he went, happily back to the job he loves. 
He just called me a few minutes ago, to let me know he cooked the guys a big meal, (that has my mouth watering, just thinking about) and he knew there were several "pumpers" who stay isolated way, WAY back in the marshes, living on the oil platforms, perhaps weeks at a time, for their hitch, so had made extra, and invited them on board for lunch, as well. Then he said, "Well, I got me a full belly, an' I'm gonna make like a houn' dawg and take me a siesta, so I'll see you in my dreams!" I told him, "Have a good nap!"
7.10.2008
Getting Our Ducts in Order
Taylor and Alex
