DAD'S SENSE OF HUMOR--Don't Fetch

Our dad had a fun sense of humor.  Let me present the following scenario as an illustration. 

Setting: Back porch step overlooking yard
Characters:  Dad, a seven year old Grandson, Max (a frisky little stick-fetching terrier, and Blackie (a lazy, but friendly old stray farm dog of unknown heritage)

Dad and the grandson are sitting on the step.  Blackie is sleeping in the yard and Max is fetching a stick being thrown repeatedly by the grandson.  Max is fanatic about his fetching, never failing to return the tossed stick. 
Dad: I bet Blackie can do a trick that Max can't do.
Grandson: (Glancing in Blackie's direction and thinking this is a safe bet) No sir grandpa. 
Dad: Watch this. Hey Blackie! (Blackie rouses momentarily and lifts his head.  Dad tosses a stick) DON'T FETCH!  (Blackie lays his head back down and closes his eyes). 

Dill Pickle Soup

Not long before Jay passed away we were playing cribbage with our friends the Hogans.  Jay was being affected by the large quantities of morphine that he was taking and not everything he said seemed connected to the situation at hand.  Out of the blue he said, "Dill pickle soup".  We all laughed, including him.  I said, "Jay there's no such thing as dill pickle soup".  However, I quickly checked it out on the Internet, and you know what? There is such a thing! 

A couple of weeks after Jay passed away, I was playing cribbage again with the Hogans.  The Food Network was on the TV in the background. The Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives program began featuring a Polish café.  Guess what recipe they were reviewing?  Yep, dill pickle soup!  We burst into laughter again, feeling that we had just been 'visited' by Jay.  

I checked out the recipe that was used in that café and I didn't really like the sound of it.  While I used it as a reference, my own version shown here is substantially different. 

DILL PICKLE SOUP

 

1/3 c. celery minced                              1/2 c. onion chopped   

1/3 c. onion chopped                             2 c. water

1 clove garlic minced                             1 c. dill pickles chopped

2 T. olive oil                                            1/4 c. pickle juice

2 chicken bouillion cubes                       1 can evaporated milk

1 qt. chicken stock                                  1 c. sour cream

2 c. carrots chopped                                salt and pepper

6 c. potatoes cubed                                  dill slices to garnish

Saute celery and 1/3 cup onion in olive oil in a large pot until tender.  Add garlic and saute 2 minutes longer.  Add bouillion, stock, and carrots.  Bring to a boil, reduce to a simmer and cook 10 minutes.  Add potatoes, 1/2 c. onion, and water to pot and return to boil then reduce to simmer 10 more minutes.  Add dill pickles, juice and milk.  Simmer until vegetables are done.  Remove from heat and add sour cream.  Season with salt and pepper to taste.  Garnish bowls of soup with dill slices. 

The dill pickles and sour cream add a nice tang to this recipe.  I think now that I would probably add a litttle bit of fresh thyme at the point where the carrots go in the pot, and maybe a sprinkle of freshly grated nutmeg at the very end of cooking.  Oh well there is always a next time.  I know this much---I will never be able to look at a dill pickle the same way!

 







Cookbook Tribute to Jay

I haven't created a blog post since Jay passed away in February.  It's rather uncanny, but the last post I published was actually about us picking out our tombstone.  It's time for me to get back in the groove of sharing on 'My Everyday Stuff'.

With the help of the Hospice Program, we were able to keep Jay here at Bittersweet Place throughout his illness and passing.  If ever a funeral service could be considered perfect, then I think this is what Jay had despite the rainy weather. The words spoken truly captured his essence, and the video provided a good pictorial summary of the stages of his life. 

One thing that I have done to honor Jay's memory is publish our recipes and  accompanying notes in cookbook form.  He collected recipes for years and always wanted to publish a cookbook of our "favorites" but just never got around to it. The task not only filled many lonely hours for me, but has been immensely rewarding.  I am pleased with the finished product and have enjoyed sharing a copy with many people.  Included are individuals who contributed recipes over the years-- friends and family members. 

Jay's notes make the book uniquely his, although many of my recipes and words are included also.  While I did edit his work, I did not censor it.  So I think I can safely say you'll never see another cookbook with a recipe for "Orgasms"  (an alcoholic beverage) included, or one with phrases such as, 'a damned fine cook'.  People who have read the book have commented that it sounds as if Jay is speaking to them.  That is exactly what I was hoping could be achieved. 

One of the recipients of the cookbook suggested that we have a potluck with everyone making one of Jay's recipes.  I think this is a fabulous idea.  We decided to wait until cooler weather returns in the fall and October was Jay's favorite month anyway.  So we are going to have a Jay Fest at the local establishment then.  Boy would he feel honored!  For now all I have to say is, "Bon Appetit Jay!".   

Tombstones, Movie Stars and Stuff Like That

A few months ago Jay and I decided to pick out our tombstone.  We headed down to Warsaw, Illinois where the monument business is located, and is also coincidentally the home of my old high school.  The owner (let's call him Perry) was a classmate of my sister.  He confessed that when they were in school he had a very bad crush on teen film star Haley Mills, and that my sister reminded him of Haley.  I'm just guessing, but I'll bet Perry had a crush on my sister too.  This is Haley in film in case you don't remember her. 
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qUnnCXJwoIk 
Here she is back then and now.    

So because of his fondness for her, Perry decided to memorialize Haley by carving her name on a tombstone as an advertisement of the business' craftsmanship.  I find this immensely funny for some reason-- "I like you so much that I think I'll put your name on a grave marker!"  Wait a minute though Perry................Haley is still alive! 


 

 

Okay I bet you are wondering just how much my sister really resembles Haley Mills.  Well here she is then and now, so you can decide for yourself. 

 

 

 

I don't know about you, but I think my sister may be holding up just a little bit better than Haley is, and thankfully she doesn't have her name on a tombstone!  

 

Hey, I just remembered that an old high school friend of mine said I reminded him of Shelly Fabares (pronounced fab-ray), a pretty much now-forgotten star. One of these pictures is of Shelley and one is of myself as a newly-graduated college student--see if you can tell which is which! 

 

 

Here is Shelly on the Donna Reed show singing "Johnny Angel".

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hIuYd0GzMjs    

 

As you saw in the picture at the top of this post, I do have my name on a tombstone.  Fortunately though, so far there is just one date on it!  We were very, very pleased with the job Harrison Monuments did for us.  Thank you for that Perrry, as well as for providing fodder for this blog post!  



Elderberry Jelly Beginning to End

The elderberries are ripe so I decided to make some jelly.  I did this one other time years ago and a friend's husband said it was the best jelly he'd ever eaten.  It is a laborious task.  Here's the bush growing in my neighbor's pasture. 

With the promise of a jar of jelly he allowed me to pick the berries, despite the fact that he didn't even know what they were!  Most people I have spoken with around here actually think they are poisonous. 

Let me show you what the berries look like. 

As you can see the damned things are minuscule and I need three cups of juice from them to make just one batch of jelly.  I want to make more than that.  I had to get permission from some other people to pick from their bushes too.  Likewise, they didn't even know what they were. 

Okay, finally I'm ready to remove the berries from their stems.  This de-stemming process is a tiresome task, the tediousness of which reminds me of what the school secretary used to do to little kids with head lice.  She perched them on a chair and pulled nearly microscopic nits from their hair with a fine-toothed comb, strand after single strand.  Well maybe this isn't quite that bad, but still..... 

They're pretty aren't they?  Next step is to coax them to give up their juice.  I did this by heating them on the stove then putting the warm berries in a clean cloth and squishing the hell out of them. 

The color that the berries stain your cloth is one of my favorites.  I've always liked this pale fuchsia color---well at least ever since 1974 when I got married the first time and made the bridal party wear it. 

Okay, glad those days are over.  Now back to the jelly.  I used Sure-Jell packets and lots of sugar to make the jelly.  You have to bring the juice and other ingredients to a full rolling boil (that is a tongue-twister for me) that can not be stirred down.  It is important to have a pan big enough for the contents to boil up and stay there.  You'll have to trust me when I say, "a small pan just will not do". 

Now we're ready to jar up the boiling hot jelly and I think this little tool is well worth the investment.  It funnels the liquid into the jars no matter what size you use. 

I wound up with 15 half-pint jars of jelly, some of which will be given away.  However, considering the effort I put into this project quite a few will need to stay on my shelf! 

 And now for the final step..............................

It's the best jelly I've ever tasted too!   Here's the link for the jelly recipe. 

http://www.kraftrecipes.com/recipes/surejell-elderberry-jelly-60866.aspx  

Annual Creamed Peas and Potatoes Party!

Well I know it's catfish-spawning time because my peas are ready to pick.  Let me explain the connection.  Dad used to catch catfish by hand in Bear Creek.  They call it 'noodling' today and there is even a reality show on TV about some Hillbilly people who have a contest to see who can bring in the biggest fish by hand.  When we were very young, my sister, brother and I danced along the banks of the creek while dad would dive down and blindly searched for nesting catfish.  Man were we ever excited when he came up sputtering water and wrestling a big wriggling fish--great fun!  Well now, for our mother it was a slightly different story.  She was 'deathly  afraid' of the water (she always said 'deathly afraid' so I'm guessing that means uber-scared).  So instead of jumping for joy at the sight of each capture, she sat at a respectable distance and feverishly shelled peas--nothing like a nice pail of peas to take the edge off the old nerves.  So, I know that if you want to catch a catfish by hand, now is the time to go because the peas are also ready to pick!

Mom always took those sweet, nervously-shelled peas home and cooked them with little potatoes and then creamed the whole pot.  I do the same now for my annual "creamed peas and potatoes" party.  All of the guests help shell the peas. (Side note: If you have ever raised peas, you know that those little raw, immature ones are like a mouth full of candy!)  Our menu for the event has been pretty consistent for a few years now--creamed peas and potatoes, homemade bread, summer salad (Romaine with red onion, strawberries, and poppy-seed dressing), old-fashioned ice-box dessert and the star of the show---------------------smoked turkey.  I bet you all thought I was going to say fried catfish didn't ya?

 Pea-shellers

Mom made this dessert a lot, so that is why it comes up at the pea party. 

Old-Fashioned Ice Box Dessert

1 Graham Cracker Store Bought Pie Crust

8 ounce package cream cheese softened

1 cup milk

4 oz package of lemon pudding

8 oz tub Cool Whip

Beat cream cheese till creamy. Add milk and blend well. Add pudding and beat 1 minute. Fold in half of the Cool Whip. Spread in the pie shell and chill.  Frost with remaining Cool Whip. 

We just love this way to "smoke" a turkey.  Everyone who has ever tried this (despite the bit of effort it requires) goes crazy for it. 

Smoked Turkey
10 to 12 pound turkey

½ cup salt

1 cup Morton tender quick

8 tablespoons liquid wood smoke flavoring

1 gallon water

Mix seasoning in water until dissolved. Place in a large plastic or stainless container; add turkey and additional water until turkey is covered.  Refrigerate in brine 24 hours. Remove & drain. Pat dry. Rub with oil. Place breast down on a rack or broiler pan, cover with foil. Bake at 300 6-7 hours, until done.  Serves 8. 

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!