There are eighteen days left in the year and twelve days to Christmas. I’m looking forward to the holiday and don’t know why. I miss the Christmas Santa left me a bike and a bride doll. I miss being awake all night helping Santa. But that was then and this is now. It will be a quiet Christmas.
Christmas Eve I’ll make Cioppino Stew/Soup, although I learned you can order it on Amazon. Christmas morning I’ll bake my Christmas bread. The smell will hold pleasant memories.
One morning when my daughter, Janine, was kindergarten age she woke me up saying, “Mom this is your lucky day.”
I had gotten her older brother off to school and gone back to bed. I wanted to pull her into bed with me and cuddle. But, she was dressed in her favorite Health-tex outfit and her purse was across her shoulder.
She explained, “Mom I am taking you to lunch at Shelby’s.
So at 10:30A.M. on a school day we sat on metal stools that spun and ordered lunch.
I had a hot dog and Janine a grilled cheese sandwich.
When we finished Janine asked, “Mom would you like desert?”
“Oh no, thank you. I much too full.”
She would and called the waitress over.
This sour looking woman held a pencil and order pad in hand, never smiling.
“I’d like a scoop of vanilla ice cream with a cherry on top,” she said with her head held high.
“That’s 5 cents extra,” said the hardened waitress.
Janine counted her money and I debated giving her the extra nickel she lacked. She had the ice cream without the cherry.
Yesterday was another lucky day.
Twenty well-wishers came to discuss and purchase books at the Halifax Plantation Golf Club luncheon. My daughter was unable to attend but nevertheless I’ve been doing a lot of smiling thinking about the two events.
Thank you to those who attended. I value your kindness and support. And yes, I’m working on the second book in this series called, The Middle Seat Passenger.
Morningside Drive is a cozy/mystery novel and can be purchase on all online book stores including Amazon.
. . .just saying, Claudia
P.S. Johanna, thanks for reminding me of past posts.
In a previous post I talked about the Composting Guru who provided a five minute video on composting. I watched the video and followed the steps.
We didn’t have an old beat-up bin so I bought one. Just as well because it is going to be kept outside and in Florida would be considered unsightly. Fortunately I found a lovely purple one. Unfortunately the strong sun will fade it to a dingy violet in no time.
I put Bobbie C to work drilling holes in both top and bottom.
He took the job seriously. It was harder than we thought.
The next steps were easier. S
Steps to composting
1. Add dried leaves
2. Add soil and water3. Dump in smelly yucky compose and mixed slightly. Cover and set in the sun.
It was quite gross. The filter inside the lid of the kitchen bin prevented my from smelling the decomposing fruit and vegetable scrapes.
Since we are three miles from the beach our soil isn’t really soil, it is sand. I’m hoping this will help things grow. But it is probably just another one of my “great” ideas to fight global warming.
What’s new at my house? Well there haven’t been any health events, thank God.
I’m a full time care giver now. Those of you who have been there, done that, know what it entails. There is little time for other things, especially writing. But occasionally there is something new.
Doesn’t this Crofton Countertop Compose Bin (only $14.99 at Aldi’s) add a decorative element to my kitchen? It’s useful too.
“Compost is a mixture of ingredients used as plant fertilizer and to improve soil’s physical, chemical, and biological properties. It is commonly prepared by decomposing plant and food waste, recycling organic materials, and manure. The resulting mixture is rich in plant nutrients and beneficial organisms, such as bacteria, protozoa, nematodes, and fungi.” (Wikipedia)
This past week I added fruit and vegetable peels expecting the decomposing to occur. . . magically? Am I naïve, old or just plain dumb?
Today I realized the bin is a collection item and the magic takes place outdoors when soil, leaves and water are added.
Fortunately Composting Guru who provided a five minute video on what to do. You’ll need to view or skip through two ads to see how easy it is.
Vogue is synonymous with fashion, trend, craze, fad, style and the latest. . . exclusivity.
Designer fashion has always been for the rich, however, now even the rich question. . . what they can afford.
Yesterday the March issue of Vogue magazine came in the mail. It is two hundred and seventy-five pages of beautiful photos and many articles.
My daughter used sky miles to subscribe, but since she’s not billed, doesn’t know how to stop them from coming. I don’t usually read the articles because the print is too small, but the title, What Is It With the Price of Clothes?, intrigued me.
Apparently only the richest of the richest are buying. But designers aren’t complaining, because prices are climbing. Channel’s classic quilted flap bag now sells for ten thousand dollars, double what it was five years ago. Why would Channel increase the cost and why do the rich pay the significant jump?
Well, if only the richest of the richest can afford to buy their status increases and so does designers’ profits. . .a win win
However, none of that is my concern. My worry is what to do with the magazines filled with pretty pictures.
Before Covid I would bring magazines to the hospital for their reading cart. Remember reading carts? Sometimes I’d leave them in a doctor’s waiting room. I can’t do that any more. So out of desperation I stacked them.
What do you think?
I’m still conflicted about throwing them out.These are some of the photo from the current magazine.
Ruff, tough and baggie are stylish. I don’t go for any of these looks, although the shoes are classy.
The pictures below aren’t from a photo shoot, but from a professional photographer on the street looking to prove that messy is a trend. I thought a large open over filled hand bag a pick-pickets dream. Wrong! Today, it’s “a marker of modern womanhood”. Go figure.
To make matters worse, I’m binge watching Project Runway and haven’t seen anything I’d buy it I could afford to.
I was never cool, but. . . still. . . is it really fashionable to look frumpy, and messy, your hair in disarray?
Please let me know if there is a way to cancel a subscription you aren’t paying for.
My Tandem insulin pump, wakes me up at 6 A.M., like an alarm clock would, to let me know I am going low. So, like it or not, I am up for the day.
It’s Sunday morning, January 7th.
Like it or not, I drink a glass of juice, then fix a cup of coffee and a piece of toast.
Now. . . it’s Wordle time.
I started doing the word game last January. In the beginning I struggled. Now I’m fairly good. This morning I figured out the five letter word of the day in less than five minutes. My current winning streak is thirty-seven days long and I feel proud.
At my last eye doctor’s visit, hoping to engage him in normal conversation, I asked if he played the game. I expected to chat about fun or finding time to play. But, his response was a dissertation on vowel versus consonant approaches. His take on a mundane pastime was genius, the only one he had, and why he’s a retina surgeon.
According to him, I use a vowel approach. I always use the word years, because it has three vowels. If none are in the word, I attempt to use the remaining vowels, i o or u.
Well, it is time to shower and blow dry my hair. Then I will bake a crumb cake for my grandson.
Yesterday, January 6th is a date I will always remember because. . . it is also my grandson’s birthday.
The day won’t be totally mundane. Dominic, his wife Marcela, and our daughter Janine, will join us for dinner out, then we’ll come home.
I will light a candle on the crumb cake and we will sing Happy Birthday.
P.S. It’s not snowing in Florida, but I wish it were.
Today I rolled the Metaphor Dice. The words; wonder, memory and unspoken spoke to me. If you would like to use the words in a poem or short story in a post please do. After you post, copy its link in my comment section.
The temperature is forty-five degrees this morning in Ormond Beach and I am sitting outside with blankets and a hot cup of coffee. My nose is cold and occasionally I slip my hands into my robe pockets to keep them warm.
I feel optimistic about the new year, and don’t know why. Certainly world affairs and political agendas paint a dismal picture at best. Perhaps it is the realization of how little power or influence I have. Frequently I have offers, from other seniors, to help me load my groceries into the car. I accept their help gracefully.
As I look back on 2023, the highlights are trumped by health events and staying alive. Please don’t be nervous. My husband and I are well, however, it is a time consuming effort.
Moving forward into the new year, call them resolutions if you like, I’ve decided to stop worrying about; recycling, global warming, the wars in Israel and Ukraine, and how to get people to delete stored emails, or if a semicolon or comma should be used after about in this sentence.
Good health and publishing my novel, Morningside Drive, will be my focus. I planned to publish in February, because Roxanne Hart marries on Valentine’s Day. However, staying healthy got in the way. You’ll be hearing more about Joy Webb, the main character, and her return to Daytona Beach after missing thirty years, to confront her father about the past.
Thank you for supporting my writing.
I wish each of you good health and happiness in the year ahead.
It is seven a.m. in Florida, and there is no snow on the ground, no chill in the air. Only a dank blanket of humidity threatening rain. There are a few presents under the tree.
I close my eyes and hear children’s feet coming down the stairs and laughter, see icicles dangling off the eves and give myself a hug.
It is a different time in my life. I’m lucky to have memories, years of sitting around a table of twenty-five and more. The smell of duck or crown roast permeating our senses.
There will be three of us today and we’ll celebrate differently. We’ll go see The Boys in the Boat and then have Chinese for dinner.
I’m looking forward to the day.
. . . just saying. . . Merry Christmas
(The post below is from a few years ago.)
Christmas Card by Meredith aka Merf
Christmas Cards
Remember when we decorated doorways and arches with Christmas Cards? It was a simpler time. The tree went up on Christmas Eve and an evergreen scent, hard to described, filled our hearts and minds. Today I shop for a fragrant candle to duplicate the scent unsuccessfully. The reality of a fresh Frasier Fur tree is short lived, needles drop quickly and the tree is so perfectly trimmed it appears to be a fake.
Over the years I’ve saved cards that were too pretty or special to toss and tuck them inside the branches (fake or real) of our tree. They bring me a smile. Below are some of my favorite ornaments. I have many birds on my tree.
. . . just saying
You don’t need a WordPress account to comment. Write your comment in the box below or click on the caption icon to the right of the title above. Ignore requests for a name/ username and press post or save. Your comment will be posted anonymously. Please follow me though, to receive notification of new posts. Thank you, Claudia
claudiajustsaying 