Garden Whimsy

I've never done anything with the garden entry. When we took the gate out, the entry area looked a little shaggy to me. I started thinking about what to do to tame it.

First, the garden weed mat had to be pulled back because water sits there. So Hubby did that for me and I set to filling in some spaces, digging out others - even outside the chicken fence - and generally making a better gazoutta for water.

Then I weeded, and then I weeded some more. I've used that old, dead shopvac case as my rolling weed holder for several years. It's served me well. It's a much better rolling garbage can that it ever was as a shopvac!

I added a couple of bricks and some stepping stones we've made with leftover cement, a few succulents on the edges and - viola! - garden entry tamed.

It looks a little like a face to me. I have some oregano in the garden and I think I'm gonna take some plugs of that and add a beard and maybe a unibrow.

I was still feeling a little whimsical and creative, so I planted a faerie garden in a stainless tray. Of course, after I finished it, I found an aluminum dishpan with holes in it that would've served much better, so I'll be moving the planting to it at some point in the near future.

I checked out my jar of found yard toys to add some elements to my faerie garden, but I didn't think quadriplegic GI Joes or the three-legged horse or Matchbox car parts did much for it, so I left the garden as is.

Altogether a nice day putzing around. Today, the dentist, then burning slash at the spread.

Using Less Paper

I made a decision a few years ago to attempt to use fewer paper products in our home. I figured it was the next step along the frugality path. I didn't do so well in the paper area. This is what we use and why we can't do without it.

1. The all-important TP. It's a must. Period.

2. Feminine hygiene. I've researched a device called The Keeper and looked at making cloth pads, but while store-bought feminine hygiene products are available to me I'll keep purchasing them. I figure if the end-of-the-world-as-we-know-it happens and money is worthless and store shelves are empty, I'll use cloth pads. But I'm really hoping my moon-tides will be behind me by then.

3. Facial tissue. This is one area where I'm happy with my progress. We don't buy it. I have a couple of hankies (one my grandma made) I keep in my night-stand because I have this night-time runny nose thing. Hubby rarely blows his nose (usually only when he has a cold) and will grab TP if needed.

These are straight off the clothesline. I think they're pretty. Just so you know how far off the mark I've gotten, I was so excited about these hankies, that I had decided to make some with crocheted lace for my DILs for their young children's noses. When I told Sister, she looked at me in shock then turned her head away and shuddered. Actually shuddered! Hankies gross her out. Of her top 10 shudder-causing memories is Dad's enthusiastic schnoz-tootin' into his blue or red hanky. AND THEN FOLDING IT UP AND PUTTING IT INTO HIS POCKET! Hmmm. It could be that I'm the only one who's excited about this.

4. Paper towels. I have rags in the kitchen and use them where I can - for spills and such. We use paper towels pretty much just for covering plates in the microwave. Oh, and for cleaning cast iron when we're in the hills, but I could use rags for that. I get the Viva Choose-a-Size so we technically only use 1/2 a paper towel at a time.

I can't get over that last microwave hump. I don't want to have to clean the pops and sizzles out of the mic every time I heat something up, but I haven't come up with anything else to take the place of paper towels. I need to look for some kind of cover that's not plastic and is microwave safe and lightweight and fits over a plate or bowl (and is cheap!). Still workin' on it.

5. Paper napkins, plates, plastic cups, utensils. We use cloth napkins. We have a box of paper plates, napkins and plastic cups, utensils that are left over from Cub- and Boy Scouts. Yeah. We've had them a while - maybe ten years or more. Sometimes we break them out when we're having a big BBQ or picnic or something, but we only use them once or twice a year. Other than that, I'm OK with washing real plates and cloth napkins.

So there you have it. We're doing better in the paper category, but I fear this is as far as we're gonna go.  Unless, of course, TSHTF. If it happens, we'll hammer out the paper thing then.

Homelessness In Our Area

In this area of the Pacific Coast, it rarely hits much over 75 degrees or below 40 degrees, though it can spike up to 80 and hit lows of 32 occasionally. I love our mild climate here. I don't miss the snow - it's nice not to HAVE TO drive in it, or shovel the driveway, or purchase the gear, etc.

It looks like lots of other folks feel the same.

This guy was catching a snooze in front of a local restaurant.

Partially because of the weather, I think, we have a HUGE homeless population here. So huge that at one point, the city took out all the park benches because people were using them for beds and setting up camps around them. The city eventually put new benches in, but they have iron armrests in the middle, so now up to two people can sit (not lay!) on them. Problem solved. Not.

Near our home is a small bridge over the slough (tidal creek) under which a man has a small, tidy camp. I wouldn't have known he was there, but his tent is yellow and it caught my eye one day. There's also a large second-growth redwood forest not too far away where several homeless folks live.

I was out throwing the ball for True at the school down the street one morning when two people emerged from the bushes along one side of the ball field and began packing belongings into backpacks. They then produced water bottles to wash their faces and brush their teeth. It was all very efficient. So efficient that I concluded those bushes must be a frequent stop. I checked it out after they left. It was very clean, no trash that I normally associate with homeless camps. They'd broken a bunch of branches to make it comfy in there, but other than that and some packed earth, there was no other sign they'd spent the night.

During my 20+ years at Social Services, I've encountered a lot of homeless people. Many doing their best to become homed. Others enjoying the homeless lifestyle. I've had several people tell me they are "houseless" not "homeless". I guess saying they choose the forest or the beach or the bushes over four walls.

I think it's fine to choose to be "houseless" if:

1. The person is self-supporting.
2. The person doesn't trash the beautiful countryside
3. The person doesn't beg. Kinda goes with #1, but panhandling or begging is epidemic in this area - don't know about yours. I used to be sympathetic and give money, or food, or supplies like soap or toothbrushes. Now I don't go out of my way to do that. Sometimes I'll buy a sandwich for someone begging in front of a fast-food place, but I don't give money any more.

Something that bothers me about homelessness almost as much as the hopelessness and the trash and the begging is the pets. It looks to me like for every three homeless people there's at least one un-neutered, un-spayed, un-vetted pit bull-cross puppy being dragged along with them by a rope.

I don't have any answers. I'm sure there's not just one.

DIY Oregon Chai Recipe

I love love love Oregon Chai. It's perfect EXCEPT it's just a tad too sweet - and a tad too expensive - for me. The last time I bought some, it was $3-plus change for their little box which made 4ish (depending upon how much milk I added) of my big coffee cups full. That's good when you consider it cost $3 for a single grande chai at Starbucks at that time.

I began a homemade Oregon Chai knockoff quest. Here's a pic of my partners in crime:

I reuse random containers, so we aren't really going to use McCormick Salad Toppings in our chai. There's bulk whole cloves in there. Here's the recipe.

1 gallon water
1/3 cup whole cloves
5 cinnamon sticks
1 tsp dried ground ginger
1/2 tsp nutmeg
1/3 cup loose black tea (or 10 teabags)
2 cups honey
2 tsp vanilla

I reuse a gallon milk jug to measure out the water into my big lidded pot and to hold my chai later. Put the cinnamon sticks, ginger, and nutmeg in there. Then I put the cloves in my awesome Williams Sonoma garnee ball. This garnee ball is so great, it was worth the Williams Sonoma price. I use it a LOT. When I first started making chai, I used some doubled-up cheesecloth tied closed with thread to hold my cloves. Then I got a cheapo garnee ball that kept opening up and dumping all those little cloves out into my chai. Grrrrr. It was back to cheesecloth until I found my little ball of perfectness. Ummmm . . . what was I . . . .oh yeah, back to the recipe.

Do all the above, put the lid on your pot, and simmer for 12 hours. Chaimaking is a good holiday activity. It makes your house smell just like Christmas. When it's good and simmered, turn off the heat, fish out the cinnamon sticks and your garnee ball. Dump the cloves into the compost pile and add the loose tea to your garnee ball or cheesecloth, or tie your 10 teabags together and add them to your liquid. Steep 10 minutes. Remove tea from liquid and add the honey and vanilla.

Vanilla's not in the picture because I make it with bottom-shelf vodka and vanilla beans. I thought including a vodka bottle AND McCormick Salad Toppings with these ingredients would be just too confusing.

The gallon of chai never lasts longer that a week or so in the fridge because I drink it up before then, so I'll say it lasts about a week in the fridge.

To make a cup, I get my tall coffee cup, fill it a little over 2/3 of the way with chai, add a bloop of milk and nuke it for one minute. Not only does it smell like Christmas, it's like drinking Christmas!

Grow Your Own Avocado Seedling

Remember this guy? He apparently didn't mind the acupuncture because:

After about a month, he became this long, lanky guy.

And now he's found a new home.

I seem to vaguely recall saying something to the effect that I am not a person to baby a tropical plant in a greenhouse. Well I changed my mind. I am that person. This little avocado and his poor struggling half-brother, a compost volunteer, both moved into the greenhouse. I hope they love it. I think I'll wait to tell them I'm gonna possibly eat their possible progeny. Yeah, they should be stronger first.

Needle Books

I like to do little handcrafts when sitting watching TV or just resting. It's something tangible I can point to so I don't feel so guilty about sitting on my butt. Sometimes they make good gifts. Sometimes I just enjoy having pretty things around me that are embellished by needlework.

Here are a couple of felt needle books I've made:

That last one is mine. I made it so I'd have something to do while waiting for Sweetie to come out of surgery. I like bright. I like primitive. I like that I got all my needles from bits of paper or fabric, pincushions, tops of thread spools - you wouldn't believe all the places I stuck these suckers - into one place. I also like that it's one of the first things I see when I open my Mama's old sewing box (now mine).

:) Good stuff.

Greenhouse Makeover

Hubby and a friend made my greenhouse out of free windows we'd gathered. It was built around a central 4' x 8' raised bed. It was an unsatisfactory set-up, but last summer we just left it as-is and planted  all my old tomato seeds (2 to 8 years old!) in the bed and watched to see what came up. We got lots of grape tomatoes as well as a couple of volunteer hubbard squash and baby avocado trees from the compost we'd used.

This year, we decided to revamp the greenhouse. Hubby disassembled and I dug out the raised bed and we created a new bed in the corner of the  garden. To do that we had to first tear out the strawberry tower. The strawberries weren't doing so great anyway, so it wasn't a big loss. Plus I'll replant the few that look vigorous enough to actually produce something this year.

Yes, I realize the corrugated roofing looks funky, but it keeps the chickens from pulling the edibles through the garden fence and also keeps the wild blackberries from making inroads quite so quickly. We do what we can with what we've got.

With the greenhouse floor down to bare dirt, Hubby skirted it with weed matting. This is from the door to the back.

And this is from the back to the door.

In that central alley, I dug in some mosaiced stepping stones I'd made with a friend a couple years ago and planted Irish moss in the spaces between. Then I added the little cafe table and chairs that's been rusting away in the man-yard for the last year or so. Hubby built some planting "counters" and we set those in around the glass walls.

So, that's the newly configured greenhouse. And a shot of the garden from gate to greenhouse - you can see the poor remaining strawberry plants where I laid them in the bottom center of this picture:

And from greenhouse to gate:

So, ten raised beds of different shapes and sizes, mostly 4' x 8', an artichoke bed, a rearranged greenhouse . . . let the planting begin!

The Benefits of Daylight Savings

Ummmm.


Uh.


Hmmmmmm.


1. People who barbecue late in the evening don't have to turn on the porch light. (On the other hand, their children have to wait longer to play hide-and-seek in the dark.)

2. I check the batteries in the clocks when I change the time. (On the other hand, I have to change the clocks.)

3. I know there's gotta be more . . .

I saw a funny on Facebook yesterday. It said:

When told the reason for daylight savings time, the Old Indian said, "Only the government would believe that you could cut a foot off the top of a blanket, sew it to the bottom, and have a longer blanket".

Now, I know that Daylight Savings Time was adopted in the World War I to conserve electricity in the evenings, and implemented again in the '60s or '70s because of the "energy crisis". So maybe it had some benefit then.  And I must admit that I like this time of year better, you know, with the longer days. But summer was already on its way with more daylight hours anyway.

Maybe we could switch and Daylight Savings could be Standard Time. All the time. Or add an hour of sunlight in the winter. Now THAT would be a neat governmental trick!

(Edited: 11:47 a.m. PDST   Reason: Internal conversation continued)

Porcupine Sign

Have you ever seen porcupine sign? Up 'til last summer I've only seen evidence of their presence from the quills in my dad's old Irish Setter. Kelly could NOT pass up a good porcupine. And he took it in the face every time. I vaguely remember dad cutting off the tips of the quills and pulling them out of Kelly's face with pliers. I guess he got tired of running old Kelly in to the vet whenever the dog got a snootfull.

I think I got a tiny taste of how dad felt when Kelly came running out of the woods looking like a pincushion. We had a dog that couldn't pass up a good skunk. Tawny would come running to the back door sneezing and wiping her face on the ground and stinking to high heaven. I'd roll my eyes and get out the stuff and wash her up with the hose in the backyard. And resign myself to about a month of a certain lingering odor.

Last summer I saw another kind of porcupine sign.

It's hard to tell in this photo, but this is the trunk of a cedar. There's a stand of them on our property that's being ringed one by one. Apparently, the cambium layer of cedar bark is to a porcupine what Lay's potato chips are to me. Irresistable. And this porcupine doesn't even need dip.

It makes me feel a couple of things:

1. Regretful. I like these trees. I'm going to miss them.
2. Wonderment. Our property supports so many amazing wild animals. Bear, bobcat, mountain lion, fox, deer, porcupine, squirrel, mountain beaver, rats, mice. OK, the last four are more annoying than anything, but you know what I mean. Lots of animals up there living off the land without any help from us.
3. Uneasiness. I like True's snoot just the way it is. Unperforated.

The Scourge of the 21st Century

I see those plastic shopping bags everywhere. Stuck up in trees or on telephone wires. Floating around on the streets. Full of garbage and lying in the streets. In parking lots, at the beach, in the ocean, in the forest.

I can see that they do have some usefulness. For people who don't plan ahead and take their own bags to the store. For folks who use them to pick up their doggy doo (I do this). I've used them as packing material when sending gifts through the mail. Some people use them in place of bought garbage bags. Good for you.

In this family we trade books back and forth. And we save things for each other like Starbucks coffee jars, rubber bands, pine cones, egg cartons, cottage cheese and yogurt containers to use as hillbilly Tupperware, whatever someone may have asked us to save. When we go to each others' houses, we always go home with something and we have a running joke about getting rid of as many of the plastic shopping bags as possible. Here, let me double-bag that!

When I go shopping I always take my collection of market bags with me. It irritates me no end to have a cashier automatically pack my purchases in plastic bags when I've put mine on the conveyor. I'm also irritated when I buy something that's already packaged, like a bag of potatoes, a carton of milk, a bag of oranges - and the cashier puts it in a bag! What?! I need to get a grip. Plastic shopping bags are the automatic go-to. They're part of our culture.

Most of my grocery shopping happens at Winco. They give a .06 cent bag refund if you bring your own. Love that! I've heard rumors that some businesses will no longer be providing bags. I smile, I'm hopeful, I wanna believe . . . but it's like the Bigfoot legend. In the realm of possibility, but not likely.

Of my collection of market bags and baskets I have three favorites. One is a basket I take to farmers market and the garden truck.

It's sturdy, it's beautiful, it's Native-made of natural materials. I love it.

The second is a bag I got from Trader Joe's. I went out of town on business and they had a TJ there. So I had to check it out. I bought the coolest bag they had. I think it was $4. It may have just about paid for itself by now with the Winco .06 cent bag refund. I got it about three years ago.

It's a good bag. It looks nice. It's strong. It says "Sailing the culinary seas"on it. Plus it's light and folds up to just about nothing.

The third is a bag I made myself.

I like it because it used up lots of the bits and scraps of yarn that were too small for their own project, or weird colors, or that I'd not have used any other way. It was super-easy to crochet. I also like it because it gets me lots of complements from the dreaded, beaded, and pierced folks at the natural foods store. It makes me feel cool (is that a word any more?). Or hipsterish (I know that's a word, but does it apply?). Or something.

So, if plastic shopping bags go away what'll I use for dog dooty or packing material, you ask? Well, there's always bread bags, orange bags, potato bags . . .

Vanquishing Evil

Yesterday morning I spent a pleasurable few hours in my garden. I weeded and cleaned eight of my raised beds. The dead asparagus fronds are cut back, the brussels sprouts are gone, I ripped out the now-bitter lettuces and the over-wintered parsley that got surprisingly unruly.

Now the beds are clean. A mostly blank canvas for my spring planting artistry. I'm keeping the chard, onions, garlic, a little lettuce, beet greens, celery, some parsley that re-seeded, and the newly planted potatoes.

Don't mind the beer can in that asparagus bed. It's slug bait.

So as I'm pulling weeds and pulling weeds and adding to the contours of our compost pile with more weeds. Did I mention weeds? I got to thinking about how our yard used to be weed-wise and how it is now. I realized we invited the axis of evil onto our property. And not just invited. That implies it would have to make its own way here. We made an appointment, went over and labored to get it into the trailer, carefully hauled it home, and tenderly laid it in our pristine raised beds.

Yes. We got "compost" from our local horse stable. And two of the most nefarious weeds known to man.

1. Johnson Grass. It is the root of all evil because of its friggin' long, brittle, and well-branched roots. It sacrifices its green above-ground parts without a second thought (or even a first one) because it can easily grow one hundred seventeen more from its prolific root system that's not only got a choke-hold on your tender asparagus crowns, but has already made two laps around your entire raised bed. Mwahahaha.

2. I don't know the name of this one:

but if you know evil when you see it, then your very soul is shuddering. I call it Seed-Poppin' weed. This sucker flings seeds literal feet away if you just happen to brush by it. Its seeds set long jump records if you actually try to pull it. It has a shallow root system and pulls easily, but it doesn't matter because its far-flung one hundred seventeen seeds happily take its place. And more. And it is invisible until it gets to this seed-poppin' state. Mwahahaha.

So the evil in my raised beds is vanquished. For now. The Axis will be back. Oh, yes, they will be back. But for now I get to enjoy the accomplishment of cleaned beds. I get to remember the hours spent in the sunshine and quiet with moist earth in my hands. And then I remember that chickens like to dig in the compost pile and eat Seed-Poppin' weeds and Johnson Grass. And I get to say, "Mwahahaha". And, "Cue the scary JAWS score!".

Asian Chicken Spaghetti

While growing up I learned how to cook for five. It's hard paring it down to two. Another thing that's hard is keeping our recipe repertoire fresh. I get tired of the same old.

I had thawed two pounds of boneless chicken thighs and was casting around for how to fix them up when I thought about stir-fry. Nah. I wanted something carbo-ey-er. Stir-fry with rice? Meh. I decided to think about it as I went.

I got out my big pot (viva la big pots!) and cut up the chicken into bite-sized pieces. I added 1/2 cup teriaki sauce, 1/2 cup brown sugar and two tablespoons apple cider vinegar. Then I tossed in 1 tbsp dried ground ginger and 1 tbsp dried ground garlic. I put the lid on and let that cook on low for about 1/2 hour.

I chopped up two big carrots, an onion, 1/4 head cabbage and a head of broccoli - stalk and all - and added those to the pot. I put the lid back on and let those cook about another 20 minutes.

What to do for carbs? Don't want rice. Don't have asian noodles. Don't want to go to the store. I do have lots of spaghetti noodles . . .  So I boiled up a handful about as big around as a small apple and added those to the big pot. I turned it off and let the noodles soak up some of the juices and viola . . .

I know, I know, it looks, well . . . um . . . I'm sure you can add your own descriptor here. I almost didn't take a picture. And to be fair, this was a morning after photo. Even though it looked pretty much like this last night. But it was really good!

Remember what I said about cooking for five? These are the leftovers. I'm still cooking for five. But I only have to cook for five 2-3 times per week! :)

Loving Where I Live

It was raining during Youngest Son's call last night. He and Hubby started in comparing weather in our respective towns. Hubby bragged about our sunny days last week. Youngest son said his temps had hit 82 degrees. Well. Hmmm. We can't beat that. For a minute I was jealous. Then I remembered where I get to live.

Where trees are so big, I can walk through them. And they dwarf the truck.

Where everything stays green all year.

Where you might have to get some altitude to get out of the fog.

I was looking at US drought map last night. It shows my beloved Northern California coast in yellow. Drought developing. When I think back about 10 years I remember lots more rain than we get now. When it wasn't raining, it was foggy. Ok, not foggy all the time - only until noon, when it would clear up for a few hours. Just in time for the fog to roll back in at 4:00. When I say "roll" I mean it! You could (and still can, just not as often) watch it come at you like a carpet unfurling. 

Well, it's still raining. It rained all night. And the most important consideration when buying a car in this area is still the "intermittent" wipers. Keep it comin' Mother Nature.

Breaking the Silence

Sometimes I like taking True out in the early mornings. Sometimes not. I do especially like those misty, silent mornings. There's no traffic noise, people aren't up and around yet, the fog muffles the few sounds that are out there. It's just True and me, she running lickety-split after the ball and me throwing for as long as my arm holds out.

Periodically these last several weeks we've had company. There's a mourning dove that sits either in the big ol' twisted coastal cedar in the neighbors' yard or on top of the phone pole a block away. Sometimes I can hear him but not see him. I love his breathy, whistling/yodeling (yes, mournful) call. "Who cries for you? Who cries for you?" No expectations. We don't have to acknowledge each other. He's good company.

DIY Sausage

Hubby likes sausage. Last time I went to buy sausage, it was over $4 per pound. Really? This is just ground up fat with a little meat and a coupla spices added in. Sausage makers everywhere should be ashamed. I could buy steak for that. And I did.

But then, I still had that little problem of no sausage. Hubby also likes bacon - in fact, he loves all the meaty traditional breakfast stuff - but wouldn't you know THAT'S about $4 per pound also. He prefers sausage to bacon because, "You get more meat". He prefers sausage patties over links because, "You get more meat". Which is fine with me. Who wants to bother with sausage casings (do they really use guts?) and specialized equipment anyway? So guess what one of the gifts under the Christmas tree was. Yep, a meat grinder! (It wasn't his fault. We'd actually talked about it and I wanted a hand-crank one. It was on my wish list.)

I went to Winco and bought a 7.22 pound pork roast for .99 per pound. I cubed it up - fat and all - and added:

3 tbsp sage
1/2 C parsley
4 tsp dry thyme
3 tbsp salt
4 tsp pepper

I also added:

1/2 teaspoon each of savory, rosemary, oregano, basil, marjoram, and fennel which made more of an italiany dinner-type sausage. But I learned that if I just want breakfast sausage, I can't go crazy with the italian herbs. I'll just put in the spices listed in the first part.

Then I put it through the grinder.

I know, it looks kinda gross here, but it was really pretty good. And a lot less fatty than store-bought. Certainly a LOT cheaper. And fairly easy to boot. Hmmmm. Makes me want to try DIY bacon.

These Hands, Small But Mighty

Bobby Bland knew what he was talking about. There's something about the hands of children. And their feet. But their hands get me on a visceral level. I just want to kiss 'em! My grandkids (a couple with their mamas help) allowed me to capture their hands when we were together last Christmas.

I made my favorite salt dough. It's really easy and fast. You put one cup of hot-as-you-can-stand-it water in a large bowl. Add one cup of salt. Swish it around until the salt is as dissolved as you can get it, then add two cups of flour. Mix it all up, roll it out, and press itty bitty hands into it. You can also let the kids play with it. It'll keep for about a week if covered, just about forever if dried.

I usually like to let the prints air dry, but I was in a hurry and baked them at 200 degrees and they bubbled a little bit. Dang. But I'm OK with messy and imperfect. That's life, right?

Then I painted them up.

And slapped on a coat of Elmer's glue. Hey, don't judge, I'm out of clear sealer, ok?

And tack them up with a bit of knotted ribbon.

How sweet is that? You can't really see it in these pictures, but the youngest one's came with the imprint of his sleeve cuff.  I love that. I wrote their names, their ages, the month and year on the back of each one to keep track of the sweetness.

See you soon, little ones.

The Grand Canyon

We're not big vacationers. We do take trips - mostly local camping or visiting our children. Last December we decided to do it up. We saw some of Arizona and New Mexico, a little Colorado and a tiny bit of Utah (about 10 inches).

We drove almost directly to 4 Corners.

It was super-fun talking to all the local artisans encircling this monument. Since it was December, it was COLD and windy, but these hardy folks still brought out their silver, copper, beaded, painted, carved, and home baked crafts and foodstuffs and laid them out on tables in their little three sided huts and shivered and shot the breeze (ha ha) with us.

We decided to forgo Chaco Canyon and went to Mesa Verde instead.

I so recommend this place. There're several cliff dwellings along this route, from about ten rooms on up. Fantastic building style - they made all these bricks and everything is so SQUARE - or round - and perfect. We were the only people there at that moment. I could imagine myself living here several hundred years ago - maybe calling down from the canyon top and waving my woven yucca bag of pinyon nuts, "Hey, Sissy, get the fire started!".

It's also a great place for hikers or mountain goats. We did NOT take the trail down there. I saw all I needed to see from the canyon rim.

Then we headed over to the Grand Canyon. It was snowing. It was crazy c-c-c-cold. Our truck was one of three vehicles full of fools checking out the different canyon vistas that day.

Ok, I know this is one of the seven wonders of the world and everything, but Hubby and I would get out of the truck, trudge through the snow to the canyon edge, look out over it, then glance sideways at each other as if to say, "Huh. Big ditch.". Maybe because it was overcast and snowing periodically. Maybe because we've seen a lot of ditches in our time - some of 'em pretty big. For us, Grand Canyon was just Alright Canyon.

There were two fun parts of our Grand Canyon visit:

1. Mr. Begay (pronounced "Big A" he instructed us). There are lots of Navaho Begays. This one has a handicraft shack outside the Grand Canyon entrance. Hubby bought me a copper bracelet and a beaded hair clip while we huddled around his tiny wood stove and talked Navaho culture. Really nice guy. Wish we could remember his first name.

2. The little brown birds. As we drove the canyon rim road, these little brown birds would periodically fly ahead of us and drop stuff in the road and fly off. Then they'd settle back down in the road after we'd driven by. It took us a while to figure out what they were doing. They were dropping pinyon cones into the roadway for us to run over! Then they'd check out the cones we'd hit and munch on the nuts we'd crushed under our tires. Ingenious little suckers. We hadn't noticed them for the longest time, but once we did, they were highly entertaining.

There were some other fun and not-so-fun things both going and coming back. Tree ripened oranges in Bakersfield. Star thistle in True's paws wherever we stopped. Yummy sausage in that one restaurant. Small motels that were dog friendly. Gorgeous countryside. Having a good traveling companion. And one traveling companion I'll never take on a long trip again (True, you suck on the road). Meeting friendly and not-so-friendly people. All in all a really good trip.

So I guess there is a moral to this story. It's not the destination. It's the fun you can find along the way. Wait, haven't I heard that somewhere before?

Stop A Cough

Hubby has a cough. The dry, hacking, trying-to-get-my-wife-sick-too cough. There's only one sure-fire way I know of to stop a cough. No, not that! That's too final! I like to put Vicks VapoRub on the bottom of the feet, put socks on over them, and send the sicko to bed. Sounds dumb, but it really works.

But we're out of Vicks VapoRub. Time to make my version. Yeah. Debi's Shut-it Rub.

Get out the 10# block of beeswax Sister gave me about 10+ years ago. I've been shaving away at it for almost that long and I think I still have about 10 pounds. This stuff goes a long way. And some olive oil, the checkbook box of essential oils, and the double boiler (measuring cup in a pan of water) and here we go!

I'm not a measurer, I'm a dumper so bear with me. I put about a shot-glass of olive oil to about a tablespoon of beeswax in the double-boiler and melted it all together, then added about 25 drops of eucalyptus essential oil and about 20 drops of lavender essential oil. That filled my old blue Vicks VapoRub bottle to within 1/2 inch of the top.

Slather that on the bottom of Hubby's feet, add some socks, and 20 minutes later (ya gotta give it some time to work) - silence. Blessed silence. Shut-it Rub indeed.  :)