Category: along the way



https://oldentimes.wordpress.com/2011/03/10/pearl-the-kitchen-girl-good-things-last/

It could be worse! Pearl is still around, doing her job.

Sadly, the vintage bowl is no more.  An accident took it away today.

I wish I had some idea of how many times this appliance and accouterments has been used over the years.

Perhaps somewhere out there in the ether world, a replacement can be found. Thankfully the technology of computers, Google and such is available. Off I go to begin the search!


Once again, the charming Rochelle, path finder extrordinaire, has issued a map, the challenge for Friday Fictioneers.  This week the prompt is from one of my photos.

Here, in 100 words, is my little walk in the park. Lane and Jemma have appeared before and seemed to want to wander back.

Wedding Dress

Arrive Taras. gHOST TOWN 092

“Thirty five cents a yard,” The clerk was impatient. Leaving Jemma looking at the calico print, he turned to another customer.

Jemma glanced again at the ready made dresses hanging  in the rafters. Oh, to have twelve dollars to spend.

After all, it was a wedding dress!

Lane had offered  half his pay, ten dollars, but they needed that for the new house and she must have dishes, pots and pans.

Teaching school for fifteen dollars a month and board would not  stretch enough.

Counting carefully, she sighed, “I’ll take seven yards.”

“That will be $2.45”.

*****

Other players have taken different paths, to see where they went click here.

 


Hubby was watching the weather this morning. “It’s supposed to snow in the Rocky’s, up to two feet.”

This led my mind on a tangent, back many years. We had made a road trip with young children to California in late April. Our trip back included driving through Colorado.

We took an extra day, to visit places Hubby remembered from his childhood. A lovely day, so fine in fact, that we purchased some camping essentials to spend the night at a camping area we found.

Hubby purchased a fishing pole and license then headed to a nearby stream for some trout fishing.

The kids and I hiked around the camping area, enjoying the mountains and glimpses of animals.

About noon, the temperature began to drop, and snow began to fall. Late in the afternoon, a ranger came by, advising us to ‘leave, unless you are prepared to stay several days’.

We packed up, not being in a position to do be ‘snowbound’.

The snow followed us past Denver, piling up 6+ inches on slick winding roads, assuring us that leaving was the right decision.

Today, I think back, all because of a weather report.

 

 


Once again, Wednesday has arrived, and with it our fearless ringmaster, Rochelle has donned her red coat and top hat, “Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls”, she announces with a crack of her whip. Issuing the challenge to join her at the circus known as Friday Fictioneers.  https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/. Under her discipline we climb to the high wire to present a story in approximately 100 words.

Other acrobats have posted, their back-flips and somersaults can be found here: http://www.inlinkz.com/new/view.php?id=623923

 

ff4-15-15 kent Bonham

This week’s picture courtesy of Kent Bonham led me down a path that my grandson walks each day.

Brett is autistic, although reading and writing are skills he has not mastered in his 21 years, he can speak, articulating some of the effects of his condition.

April is Autism Awareness Month. I dedicate this little tale to Brett and all who deal with Autism, in its many guises. Maybe it will raise awareness a bit as well. I can hope.

 

Sound Prison

“Sensory overload” the therapist calls it, “meltdown” in layman’s terms.

People gather around, invading the circle of ‘personal space’, gesturing, talking.

Afraid to approach.

But too near and too loud for the boy.

No matter what, he hears it all. There are no filters.

No way to block the beating

The words have form and substance, invisible,battering.

They swirl around, floating shapes, sweeping in, crushing.

Rhythms pound, hammers in his mind.

Varied tones stab like knives.

He has to close it off! It has to stop!

And so, he sits on the floor, rocking.

Withdrawn, locked in his alternate universe,

Forced to submission by the weaponry of sound.


Saturday morning, we set out for adventure.

As often happens, the original plan got sidetracked, but fate intervened to give something better. The road we traveled passed The Battle of Pilot Knob State Historic Site, near Ironton, MO.

100_0395

Welcome to the Historic Site

This park commemorates the site of the Battle of Pilot Knob from the Civil War. A dedicated group of reenactors provide living history at times. Saturday was one of those times.

Spring Encampment was going on. Much less crowded and ‘busy’ than the battle reenactment later in the year, it was easy to access all of the camp and talk to reenactors in a more relaxed setting.

Everyone we met was willing to share information about their part in the war effort.

It is really amazing at how much support was required, not only soldiers, medical personnel and all the equipment but blacksmiths, laundresses, musicians. Some of the officers even had personal slaves to serve them.

 


A couple of weeks ago, one of the smaller granddaughters and larger great grand daughters spent a long evening with me.

We ended up snuggling in my bed, while I told stories. Fairy tales I grew up on and some that my own grand and great grand parents had shared. Tales of their child and young adulthood.

Last night, six year old great grand came over with her parents after dinner. The first thing she wanted was “Let’s go to your bed and please tell me stories!”

Needless to say, that made my day!


It might be a good idea to read this past post before you begin the one  for today.

https://oldentimes.wordpress.com/2010/11/19/adventures-with-betty-crocker/

This sort of sets the stage.

Over the years, many young cooks have passed through the kitchen on Sunrise ridge and other places we have called ‘home’ in our journey through life.

Betty Crocker’s red cookbooks for making things and a set of Good measuring cups have been staples of the experience.

This past week, a photo on Facebook of the big red ‘pic cover cookbook was making the rounds. Of course I shared it and many comments came, a good number from those who shared in the making of thing from that book.

My old copy is held together with duct tape, notes in the margins, and many pages smeared with drips. I have a child who wants it and her daughter is now beginning to cook, sometimes here in Sunrise kitchen. Another generation to share with.

While at an auction yesterday, another copy of the book was for sale. The cover was a little worn, the pages inside much like mine.

Yes, I  felt the need to purchase it. Another daughter and granddaughter live in California and they too should have this book.

Now, I need to find a couple more copies for some of the others who ‘graduated’ with the basic cooking certificate here.

I see they are available on Amazon and other outlets, some for quite a price. The ones I need though are well loved, used, smeared (especially on the page with the fudge recipe) and have notes written in them. They may not bee my notes, but I will happily transcribe from mine.

Not much of a ‘legacy’ you might think, but you are wrong. These books are filled with memories and love!

 

 


Today is ‘Autism Awareness Day’.

At our house, like many others, that is every day, not once a year.

As I look back over the past two years since grandson, Brett, has been living with us full time, so many achievements have been made.

Just last week, Brett mentioned that he wants to invite some people over for a spaghetti dinner next Sunday.

This is, in fact several great milestones:

Brett is inviting people (coming out of his shell).

He wants to cook the entire meal himself ( building skills). Last year, for his birthday, a friend sent him a wonderful cookbook. Another sent an apron and chef hat. He uses both. One of his goals has been preparing complete meals for the three of us several times a week.

Last weekend, he made his ‘famous to us’ baked beans for the crowd assembled for out anniversary dinner.

http://www.amazon.com/Picture-Cook-See-Make-Eat/dp/1612432344  is the link for the cookbook.

He has his ‘list’ and a ‘time table’ made (life skills and independence)

And I know, he will do it, and do it well!

 

 


Fifty years ago, March 26, 1966, Hubby and I eloped. March 27 is his birthday, so those two days are set aside on our calendar as the anni-birthary.  Where did the time go? What happened to that young soldier about to be shipped out for duty and the girl who had made her first plane flight to join him?

Many things happened, and it all went by in a rush it seems. Good times, bad, joy and sorrow.

That being said, yesterday we had a quiet celebration. Present were many immediate family members,  four generations, counting us.

We provided a place for  festivities and a meal which the older girls brought, Ham potatoes, salads and desserts. I made, with a little help from two of the greats, some hot rolls for the meal.

Chore volunteers from the pack of kids were sorted simply by announcing what needed to be done, most of them were quickly taken care of without even saying a name! The few that were not were rapidly done by the designated teenager!

Easter falls during the event this years so about 200 eggs, mostly plastic, were also necessary. Egg decorating was supervised and directed, and older grandsons took care of scattering and hiding them for the younger participants.

100_0283most of them

Pictured: grands and greats, gathered for the egg hunt.

 

 

 

 


ff3-25-16

Today’s photo prompt for Friday Fictioneers is brought to us by the talented and sagacious Rochelle.  https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2016/03/23/25-march-2016/

The goal is to write a ‘story’, beginning, middle, end, in 100 words more or less.

Several thoughts ran through my head when I saw it. Maybe in yours as well?

Ideas from other folks can be found by clicking here: http://www.inlinkz.com/new/view.php?id=618340

“Beauty in Ashes”

Coming home, done with a late night shift, she drove past the burned out hulk. Finally, demolition is in progress.

Appliances, fixtures, boards and tiles, scattered debris, stark and ugly, waited for pick-up.

Remains of someone’s home to be carried away.

Nostalgic and a bit melancholy, as she is this sunny morning.

The workers have not yet arrived to finish the job.

The sorting, recycling still to be done.

Impulsive, she stops and places a flat of bright pansies in the empty commode.

A simple gesture that brings a smile.

Hope is planted.

 

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