Just Our Dad

Things I Know How to do Because of Dad

Hey, Thanks Dad!

Bait a hook

Drive a John Deere tractor

Laugh at the humor in everyday things

Work hard

Play hard

Skin a cat fish

Ride a bike

Help a neighbor

Arm wrestle

Boo Mickey Mantle

Subtract
Play checkers

Spit shine a shoe

Tell the truth

Recognize a dead elm tree

Try something new

Appreciate birds

Tell a joke, laugh at a joke

Drink a beer with friends

Shoot a 22 rifle

Love dogs and kids

Drive a stick shift

Roller skate

Swim in a rock quarry

Play draw poker

Enjoy life

Run for the Roses



I realize that some people object to the whole idea of thoroughbred racing, but I have to admit I love a good horse race.  I can watch the movies, "Secretariat" and "Seabiscuit" over and over and still cheer them on every time---as if I didn't know who the winner was going to be! The Kentucky Derby is obviously my favorite race--so much so that we have a party to celebrate it.  In addition to the race itself, I'm crazy about the stories associated with the owners, jockeys, trainers, and especially the horses (even their names are fun).  This year there is a horse named "I'll have Another" and yet another called "Rousing Sermon".  Don't these decidedly go together in your mind?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o73AuvnxGDs

My party includes a drawing so everyone gets a horse to cheer on, a nice spread of appetizers, Kentucky Burgoo, and of course mint juleps! Burgoo, in case you aren't familiar with it, is a thick and rich soup made with a mix of meats and vegetables.  Recipes are as varied as the people who make them, but I like to be sure that mine has beef, chicken, butter beans and okra in it.  "Kentucky Burgoo" was actually the name of the 1932 Derby winner, and the soup is considered to be the dish to serve on Derby Day.  Heck, a big pot of Burgoo can be a "happening" in itself.  There are even festivals named after it and old-time political rallies were often called "Burgoos".

Excuse me now.  I'm going to find a fancy hat, grab a mint julep, and enjoy the "most exciting 2 minutes in sports"! 
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QyqllleV6WA

MY VERSION OF BURGOO
serves 20

1 cut up chicken (3 lbs.)

2 pounds beef shank crosscuts
12 cups water
1 tablespoons salt
¼ teaspoons pepper

In a 10-qt pot combine the above ingredients. Cover; cook until meat is tender, about 1 hour. Remove meat and chicken, reserving broth. Chop the meats, discarding the skin and bones.

2-28 oz cans tomatoes

2 cups cubed peeled potatoes

2 cups coarsely chopped carrots

1 cup onion, chopped

1 cup celery, chopped

1 cup green pepper, chopped

2 tablespoons brown sugar, packed

¼ teaspoons dried, crushed red pepper

2 whole cloves (we take them out after 10-15 min)

1 bay leaf

1 clove garlic, minced

Add all above to the stockpot. Cover; simmer 1-hour stirring often.

4 cups frozen corn

2-16 oz cans butter beans (un-drained)

1 10 oz package frozen cut okra

Add the above three ingredients to the stockpot; simmer 20 minutes.

6 slices bacon

Cook bacon until crisp, drain, crumble and reserve drippings.

2/3 cup flour

Blend the flour with the reserved bacon drippings; stir into soup. Cook and stir until the soup thickens. Salt to taste.

½ cup snipped parsley

Garnish with bacon and parsley

***Special Note: To make a lighter version I eliminate the bacon and flour.

Lucky Buckeye my foot!

Jay said we have a buckeye tree in the woods south of our house, so I set out to find it. I wanted one of those lucky buckeye nuts that are purported to ward off arthritis and to bring good fortune.  Let me explain first that our southern property line parallels a pretty little creek, the bank of which is rather steep in some spots. Traipsing through the woods, eyes glued to the ground in search of the nuts, I spied instead a nice little geode peeking out of a crevice in the creek bank.  I gave the rock a good nudge with my toe and dislodged it from its multi-million year old resting place. (I'm saying multi-million, but apparently even the best geologists can't decide for sure)  Boing, boing, boing--the geode tumbled down the bank and landed in the dry creek bed. Finding no buckeyes, I'm determined now not to go home empty-handed.  I'm gonna retrieve that rock!  Okay just be careful. That's the steepest part right there----whoops, whoops----losing my footing----whoa now---slipping, slipping----oh no, now sliding recklessly down the rocky creek bank.  OUCH!  That smarted-especially my poor little pinkie finger which got mangled somehow in the mishap.  I snatched up the now heartily-cursed geode and limped back home to tend to my wounds. 

Heartily-Cursed Rock

When we were kids we spent hours cracking open geodes on my maternal grandparents' farm.  Rock Creek ran through their property and it was absolutely loaded with geodes.  The anticipation of a glimpse of the beauty inside was almost unbearable, and so it was with hard-earned rock.  Could it possibly be as magnificent as these marvels?  Oh how I so hope!

Drum roll please----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nope, not nearly as stunning--but this little geode has a whole story written about it.  One that has nearly supplanted a blog about a buckeye hunt!
Okay, several months have passed since that fateful day.  My pinkie knuckle will be slightly bent forever it appears--no doubt the future recipient of some arthritis I bet.  The next time I go looking for that tree, I want to slip a lucky buckeye into my pocket first! 

Skippy Peanut Butter Recipe for Buckeyes
http://www.peanutbutter.com/RecipedisplayMRS.aspx?Recipeid=1521&Version=1

Boo Dan!----- Ben, Yeah!

Last summer we noshed our way through the South on vacation and I have been meaning to get this account of our gastronomic adventure posted ever since.  Well it's Mardi Gras season so maybe this is the appropriate time, as we did spend a few days in New Orleans. But let me backtrack for a moment.  Our first major stop was in Savannah, Georgia to visit Jay's daughter. Well heck you can't stop in Savannah and not enjoy seafood. The fresh, raw oysters on the half-shell were off-the-chart delicious at Uncle Bubba's joint (Paula Deen's brother). They were unbelievably fresh--chilled and slightly briny--not at all resembling a canned oyster in any fashion whatsoever. Of course I can describe them in any manner that I prefer, since I was the only person in our party to have the hutzpa to try them that day!

The people of Savannah are also crazy about their boiled peanuts, except when they pronounce 'boiled' it sounds like 'bowled' to me.  In my opinion you ruin a perfectly good peanut when you 'bowl' them. 

              Why'd Ya'll go and bowl me?                    

Okay we headed south to Florida and then across the coast toward New Orleans where we really noshed it up.  Well, it wasn't all 'noshing' while we were in the heart of the city.  There was a bit of 'lushing' too. 

VooDoo Beer in the French Market and the famous "Hurricane" at Pat O'Briens Bar

Now then back to the food part.....We had a nice brunch at Felix's Seafood Bar. It's an old establishment that was in business when Jay's grandparents visited Nawlins (how they say it down there). How about some luscious turtle soup?

We stayed at a campground in Westwego, Louisiana and made a trip to NOLA's cafe where I dined on some colorful crayfish/craw fish (either is correct, but I prefer cray because that sounds edible, whereas craw sounds a bit like fish bait to me).

 

Aren't we so pretty?

Moving right along now....off we headed to Avery Island and the Tabasco factory. We stopped at a restaurant for lunch and I had some alligator balls. I'll let your imagination take over here and not comment any further, except to say they were fantastic!

Alligator Balls--I'd hate to be the guy who has to harvest these!

A good southern breakfast should include some grits and chicory coffee in my opinion. The grits are easy to find and buy at home, but the chicory coffee is a bit more elusive so I picked up some while on vacation.

Hey, I bet by now you might be wondering about the title of this blog. Well, “Boo Dan and Ben, Yeah” could be things shouted out at a basketball game. However, in the context of this post on southern noshing let me explain. Boudin (pronounced Boo Dan in Cajun country) is a sausage that includes rice as one ingredient. The other ingredients are as varied as a swamp dweller can make them. The recipe: 3C. Anything that swims/crawls/burrows 1 C. Rice

Jay ate some Boudin while we were on vacation and we decided that it might be fun to make at home. We started with a recipe from Emeril Lagasse, but improvised a great deal too. We made a pork and chicken liver rendition.

Now then, the "Ben, Yeah" portion of the blog title refers to the donut-like pastry (Beignet) that is famous in the French Quarter of New Orleans.  We didn't get around to eating them while there this time, but we made some when we got home.  They are best eaten warm. 

Beignets Frying

Yeah Beignets!

Cancer Saved My Life

     The movie 50/50 (survival odds) just came out on DVD. I thought it was supposed to be a comedy about cancer--not that there are a lot of funny things about cancer. The film had only a few (and I mean very few) comedic moments in my opinion. Nonetheless, I wanted to wait until it was released before I blogged about my own cancer experience.   
    At the age of just 57 years our mother died from breast cancer.  Ever after, my sister and I became vigilant about our annual exams--good thing too.  I was diagnosed in 2000, and around 3 years later so was she.  The experience was life-changing.  Rather than giving a blow-by-blow account of the details, let me just briefly sketch it out.  In the course of one year, I went from a normal mammogram to stage 3C breast cancer (stage 4 is really a death sentence, so I was closer to the brink than I realized). The treatment consisted of a modified radical mastectomy, chemotherapy, radiation (which incidentally destroyed my thyroid gland), and later reconstruction surgery. Subsequently, I referred to these procedures as mutilation, poisoning, barbecuing, and welding.  It was a bumpy road for sure, but I also read that maintaining a sense of humor under all circumstances can bolster your immune system.  So that is what I attempted to do. 
    Early in the process, I quickly learned that my oncologist couldn't afford a watch that kept accurate time. So to fill the time in his waiting rooms, I took my knitting.  The first time I did so, he saw a nearly-completed, 4 foot long scarf.  As he observed me working, he remarked about how slowly the knitting process moves along.  I said, "Yep it does Doc.  This scarf was only about two inches long when I started waiting for you!"
     The place where I received my chemotherapy was referred to as a "suite"--the chemo suite.  As it turns out, there really is nothing "sweet" about it.  I tried to convince the nurses that they should include some things to make for a more spa-like atmosphere--perhaps add facials and pedicures and so forth to improve the experience. 
     I could have doubled as Mr. Clean's wife after I lost my hair from the chemo. (For the sake of brevity I will say 'chemo' at times instead of chemotherapy, but I don't like the abbreviation.  It sounds like a friendly nickname instead of what it is in reality.) They referred to the intravenous concoction that I got as a chemo cocktail--well I'm here to tell you, mine could have stood a lot more vermouth! 
     I discovered that your ears look a lot bigger when you have no hair, and I never got used to the "alien" look of a bald head.  However, in frustrating situations it was kind of fun to say, "If I had any hair, I'd be pulling it out right now!"  For the curious, here's the only known bald picture of me. 



     Well you never know what you might be thankful for-- maybe a big old dose of radiation is one. If you don't keep your blood levels up to a certain standard you can't get your daily nuking. Hence, you find yourself keeping your fingers crossed (actually praying now) for the opportunity to get zapped! 
     Through the course of all of it, I learned that you really can't trust doctors and nurses who say things such as: "You might feel a little pinch now, or this can sting some, or you may have a tad bit of discomfort".  Well, you get my drift.  Nonetheless, to all of my lady friends out there I say never miss the opportunity to get your annual, smashing dose of "just a small amount of pressure".  It could save your life.
     So, how did cancer save my life?  Well mom's death made me more conscientious about my own health. In addition to being more careful about check-ups, I discarded a very nasty habit. Getting diagnosed myself made me resolve to eat better, exercise, and try to reduce some of the stress in my life. Now I frequently tell people that when I die, I'm going to be the healthiest person you know!

Coincidence, Serendipity, Fluke

Sometimes I drive people crazy with my observations of coincidences.  I could expound on tons of them.  Once a friend of mine and I went grocery shopping and my cart number was 138.  Then I got change back at the register for a sum of $3.81, and later when I made purchases inside a convenience store the total came to $8.13.  So feeling that lucky stars were lined up in my direction, I convinced my girlfriend  to buy some "Pick 3" lottery tickets with me.  We chose every combination of 1-3-8 that was possible and guess what???? Our numbers won--- the Missouri Pick Three! Unfortunately, we had bought the Illinois Pick Three.
Monday, I began reading an Italian cookbook.  From various regions of Italy there is a common recipe called "porchetta".  It amounts to pork (usually of the suckling nature I gather) stuffed with various herbs and then roasted while the aromatics permeate the interior.  Tuesday, a girlfriend gave me a Midwest Living magazine that she had finished reading.  I took it with me to peruse while waiting in a doctor's office.  Oh you are on to me now.  Yes the darned thing had a recipe for "porketta" (spelled slightly differently, but essentially the same thing). Oh and I won't have to find a baby pig for this recipe either.  Today (Wednesday) I am making the porketta. 

This is what it looked like in the magazine. 

Here is the list of herbs and spices that are combined to spread in the middle of the 3 pound boneless pork loin. 

                         2 T. fresh parsley

                         1 t. crushed fennel seeds

                         1 t. dried onion flakes

                         1/2 t. dried rosemary

                         1/2 t. dried oregano 

                         1/4 t. salt

                         1/4 t. garlic powder

                         1/4 t. ground cloves

                         1/8 t. ground coriander

I crushed the fennel and coriander seeds with a little mortar and pestle that belonged to one of Jay's ancestors (I'll have to look that up later--something about a store in Nauvoo years ago). 

Okay, you make a slice most of the way through the loin and lay the halves open; sprinkle with the blended herbs, fold back together and tie it up. This is what mine looked like. 

Now you roast this on a rack in a 350 degree oven for an hour and half or so.  We use a meat thermometer and it should read 155 degrees when you take it out of the oven.  Let the meat rest for 10 minutes before slicing.  Since we are not too fond of fennel (too much licorice flavor for us) I cut the amount to just a pinch. I did the same with the cloves.  The final product was well-suited to our palates. 

Hey did I ever tell you about the time I found this penny on the sidewalk and it was a 1926 penny (the same year as my dad's birth), and I found it on March 30th (his birthday) and, and, okay, okay ---I'll stop driving you crazy!

 

My favorite Christmas things

As I rummage through the bins of decorations, nostalgic remembrances pop up.  These bubble lights bring back warm sentiments of my paternal grandparents. When I gaze at their bubbles, I am transported back in time--I'm about 6 years old standing before Grandma's Christmas tree in the living room of the farm house with those mesmerizing lights reflecting back at me.

Although this teapot rests on our mantle year-round, at Christmas time it gets adorned with a red bow. The pot came to America from Sweden with Jay's paternal grandparents. His grandfather's name was Johnny Johnson (he pronounced it as Yonnie Yonson, and he told folks, “I'd give ten dollars if I could yust say yug!”)

Jay's mother gave me this little cardboard cut-out bear for an ornament. She put it on her tree when he brought it home from school in 1944 (his name date are on the back). It is hard to imagine what Christmas might have been like that year, what with the Battle of the Bulge raging in Europe and the U.S. preparing to drop the Atomic bomb on Japan.  

This sled sits on the front porch and it also gets a bow adornment at this time of year. It seems impossible, but my sister and I rode this downhill at the same time. Sorry Sis, but I don't think our derrieres would both fit on it today!

I love this wreath with the old ice-skate in it. We three kids all got ice-skates for Christmas one year and we spent lots of time on the pond afterward—sometimes upright but often times not. As a matter-of-fact I have a dislocated tailbone, and the most likely culprit is too many unions between ice and rear end!

“Oh Holy Night” is my favorite carol. For some reason I am crazy about John Denver's version of it.  The piano and violins are so pleasing to me in this rendition. 
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oMMpqP0C5SM

I photographed the mailbox because I like to send and receive real Christmas cards. I spend some time putting together a letter to go in mine. If you would like a copy, just email me (jandta@frontiernet.net) and I will send it to you (either via email or the real McCoy in your mailbox).
  

My favorite drink to get warmed up with is hot cocoa with peppermint. If you really want to get warmed up, add a stiff shot of Peppermint Schnapps to make the drink called a 'snow bunny'.

Pair that drink with these cookies and you have a perfect holiday treat in my opinion. The cookies are not made by me, but rather by a talented baker friend. I am not that artistic. I love the plate too. It was a gift from an old friend.

“A Christmas Story” is my favorite holiday movie. The whole thing just cracks me up, but I especially like the part where Ralphie gets his mouth washed out with soap. He says something to the effect that over the years he eventually became somewhat of a connoisseur of soap, and actually developed a taste for Lux, because of the slightly piquant flavor.  It makes me laugh just thinking about it now!

Jay reads “Twas The Night Before Christmas” on most Christmas Eves—a carry-over from reading it to his kids when they were urchins. We now have the Cajun version too--”Twas the night before Christmas An' all t'ru de house, Dey don't a t'ing pass, Not even a mouse.” Well you get the idea. I dare anyone to read it without cracking a smile.

Here is our tree. I had some help from a friend getting it put up this year.  With a fire in the fireplace and a glass of wine for sipping,  it was pleasant way to spend an afternoon. When we were kids we had one of those aluminum trees that is illuminated by the revolving colored light wheel for a few years. Actually, they really were pretty fun to watch, despite being so artificial. 

I don't remember receiving any particularly favorite Christmas gift. I just remember always getting new slippers, pajamas and bubble bath nearly every year. The smell of certain bubble bath crystals still reminds of Christmas. My sister and I got Hullabaloo sweatshirts for Christmas and wore them to our maternal grandparents' farm that day. We must have been about 14 and 15 years old, respectively. The show only lasted about a year and half, but we really liked it.  

Let's have little fun now. I have worn this mistletoe headband on several occasions to various gatherings. It is always good for a laugh and a kiss or two from just about everybody. I got it as a gag gift at Bridge Club years ago. They are available at Amazon.com if you simply have to have one!  

Two other things I like at Christmas are a fire in the fireplace and a red poinsettia (I know the other colors are pretty too, but it just seems more original to have the red one). We never hung stockings up at Christmas when we were young—maybe because we didn't have a fireplace!  I really do like the tradition though.

Lastly, and most importantly of all, my very favorite thing about Christmas!

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!

Oh My, Oh My, Chocolate Pie!

Well I am doing something for the second time that I said would only do once. No, it is not flying down into the Grand Canyon in a small tour plane---I really won’t do that again! It is making a chocolate mocha pie, but first let me tell you about that plane trip. While out West our friend Greg wanted to take one of those tour planes down into the Grand Canyon, and on the way there he talked me into it. His wife Kathleen refused. I would later proclaim her to be the smartest woman I’ve ever known! Before we left in the six- passenger plane though, we had to be weighed to balance out the load. That should have been my first clue. My weight put me in the front seat with our pilot, Dennis. As we walked toward the small, questionable-looking aircraft, Greg asked the pilot, “Say Dennis would you mind if we kick the tires before we take off?” I think this is where I began hyperventilating. I covered my eyes as we began leaving the runway. Dennis remarked, “Hey, that's cool. I always close my eyes on the take-offs too.” After a tormenting, hour-long flight into the bowels of the canyon (tossing and dipping because of the updrafts and narrowly missing hoodoos) we headed back to the air strip. Dennis commented that it appeared as if I wouldn’t be dying that day after all. I yelled, “THIS THING IS NOT ON THE GROUND YET!”

But I digress--now back to the pie. It really was agonizing to make requiring lots of crushing, mixing, melting, layering, chilling, whipping, and garnishing--a day’s worth of fiddling around and lots of dishes dirtied up.

Nonetheless, Jay said it was a real dessert—the kind they serve in fancy restaurants. It was so good he even hid it from his kids. I told him that I was sure glad he liked it, because I would never be making it for him again! But I reneged, and here is the blessed pie. 

Hey look--I'm smiling because I don't have to make this pie again, and I know I will NEVER, I mean NEVER EVER be taking a plane down into the Grand Canyon again! 

Chocolate Mocha Pie

1 pound chocolate chip cookies

1 cup chocolate chips plus

1/4 cup chocolate chips, for garnish

1/4 cup butter

3 egg yolks

3 egg whites

1/4 cup granulated sugar, plus

1 1/2 teaspoons granulated sugar, for topping

1 cup whipping cream, plus

1 cup whipping cream for topping

1 1/2 teaspoons instant coffee

1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla

Crust

Put 1 pound chocolate chip cookies in food processer and process into fine crumbs. Press into pie pan and bake at 275 ° for 10 minutes. Chill. Cooks comment: The crust should have some moisture as a graham cracker crust would be. The chocolate chips should provide that, if not I'd suggest adding some melted butter (1/4 cup?) to the mix so it will hold it together for the baking.

Filling

In a double boiler melt 1 cup chocolate chips with 1/4 cup butter until combined. Remove from heat and cool. Beat in egg yolks one at a time and mix thoroughly. Cool to room temperature.

In a separate bowl, beat egg whites until peaks form and gradually beat in 1/4 cup sugar.

In another bowl, whip 1 cup whipped cream with 1 1/2 teaspoons instant coffee. Fold into the egg white mixture until combined then slowly fold into chocolate mixture blending completely. Spoon into pie crust, cover loosely and chill overnight. (I think several hours would be enough)

Topping

Whip 1 cup whipping cream 1 1/2 teaspoons sugar and 1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla until stiff. Spread over the chocolate pie filling smoothing to the edges. Chop 1/4 cup chocolate ships and garnish topping.

Store refrigerated.



Cribbage Anyone?

CRIBBAGE ANYONE?

If you have never played a game of cribbage, it may be a little difficult for me to convey the fun of this whole story. Nonetheless, cribbage is a card game and the score for each player (or team, if playing partners) is kept by moving little pegs down a board. This is one of our favorite boards—it has little skunks painted on it.  A skunk is a bad thing and a double skunk is even worse.

When we were in Alaska we saw a scrimshaw cribbage board that was carved into a walrus tusk.  It looked something like this one with a price tag of around $1200.00--it's still in Alaska.

We play cribbage a lot with our friends the Hogans. It is girls against guys, and the fun we have is indescribable. On one occasion, after having lost several games in a row, the guys were very close to winning one.  Alas however, they ultimately lost by only one point. Jay moaned, “Just my luck-- one peg behind every time!” That got me to laughing--mostly because we were winning so much, but also because it made me ponder…..hmm… “Hey Jay, how about if I put that on your tombstone?”

REST IN PEACE

Wine or Grapes

My friend told me that a recent study reveals that wine can actually be instrumental in preventing skin cancer.  I said, "Good deal!"  Then she added, "But you can get the same effect from eating grapes."   I said, "No Carol Rose-- I've eaten grapes and I've drunk wine, and they DO NOT have the same effect!" 
Well I'm all for protecting my skin, so let me share some of my secrets for doing so.  I am quite fond of the following remedies.

These are all California blends, and their names are so seductive-sounding.  PromisQous (the label adds that it refers to multiple partners--meaning several grapes) is one of the most pleasing to my palate. Menage a Trois (pairing of three red grapes) and Hot to Trot from the 14 Hands Cellar.  I can't find a real definition for the word 'Apothic', but the vintner claims it refers to a mythical place where delicious wines were made.  I do know that all of these wines suit me well as far as taste and price are concerned.  Paired with a juicy steak, they are perfect!

Jay's Grandmother's pretty, etched wine glass

Cheers---Here's to the health of our skin!

Bib Overalls

Our dad wore bib overalls.  He was a farmer you see.  Still, it seemed that all the other kids’ dads wore belted jeans and that was way more trendy.  So my sister and I tried to get dad to wear jeans, but he’d have none of it.  He said that when he had to climb around on the ground under farm equipment for repairs, jeans just didn’t stay where they were supposed to--I guess by that he meant covering his skinny rear end. 

In addition, bibs have a handy pocket on the side for a pair of pliers, big deep pockets in front and back, so that things like pocketknives and lucky buckeyes don’t fall out very easily.  Oh, and we mustn’t forget those intriguing little pockets on the bib part itself.  This is the very best feature of all.  Let’s see, there is the small vertical strip of a pocket just right for a knife-sharpened, stubby lead pencil. Then there's a pocket made to hold the miniature tablet that dad always got from the seed-corn company.  He used that sometimes to figure stuff like crop yields and insecticide/water ratios. It closed with a 'snap' button.  A pocket watch could fit in one of the bib pockets too, but he preferred his old scratched up wrist-style Bulova. Lastly, there is the pocket that held his unfiltered Lucky Strike cigarettes.  Even years after he gave up the habit, you could still see his hand gravitate toward that pocket at certain times.

With a grandchild perched on his lap, he’d let them explore those entire bib pockets.  Small fingers would first pull out the pencil, then the tiny tablet. Next thing you know dad would be drawing a cartoon version of the grandkid, always featuring an exaggerated and humongous nose. This never ceased to be funny to the grandchild or to me.

Dad frequently left the top waist button on his bibs undone.  I guess that was for extra comfort, especially after a large meal.  He always took his bibs off by unfastening just one of the straps, and slipping the other snapped one off of his shoulder.  I asked him about that and he said it saved time getting back into the same pair the next day.

At day's end dad would lie on the couch and watch the news and weather forecast on TV, or read the latest issue of “The Prairie Farmer”.  He often tucked one hand under the bid of his overalls and rested it upon his chest.  He looked comfortable that way--so much so that we laid him to rest in that pose following his bold fight, but defeat from pancreatic cancer. There really was no question in my mind how we would attire dad as we sent him off to meet his Maker though. So, for eternity he is outfitted with a John Deere cap in hand, and a brand spanking-new pair of Osh Kosh by gosh! 

dad in bibs, me, and the dogs

Happy Father's Day Dad!

Lady in Pearls

“Lady in Pearls” was the identification label placed on this photo when I had it reproduced several years ago. I liked that very much—it sort of sounds like the title of a Van Gogh painting to me. If I had labeled the tag it would have just simply read, “1946 graduation picture”.
Now as coincidence has it, I have recently come into possession of those pearls. They were in a box of old family pictures that an aunt gave my brother, and he in turn passed along to me. I am making it my duty to find out something about them. As you can see they are quite discolored. I will make an attempt to clean them, but they should be restrung too. Maybe I’ll check into that later on.

The pearls are resting in their original velvet case. The inscriptions indicate that they are Deltah Pearls. That company existed from 1893 until the 1950's when it merged with another. During the 40's famous movie stars advertised for Deltah Pearls, including Elizabeth Taylor, Loretta Young and Martha Vickers. I had never heard of Martha, but I discovered that she gets slapped by Humphrey Bogart in a film entitled, "The Big Sleep". Here she is.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zuLDUgdEIsk

Unfortunately, my Deltah Pearls are simulated, not natural or even the cultured ones. I can tell this because some of the coating has chipped off one of the larger pearls and I can see a glass bead underneath. I learned that this is one of the ways faux pearls are made; a luminescent finish is applied to the glass. Such is my luck! Oh well, let me just finish with a posthumous greeting of "Happy Mother's Day" to my mom, the "Lady in Pearls"!