Breathe

Ahhh – I didn’t realize how much I missed the lake. I had no idea how much I needed to relax until I got here and felt the tension drain away. It’s been over six weeks since I was last here, probably the longest stretch I’ve been away since we bought the place. My life got in the way – work, family, friends, trips out of town, obligations, “stuff” prevented me from escaping and relaxing at the lake.

Today I plan to breathe deeply, to sit and stare at the lake, to watch the birds at the feeder, and hope for the occasional deer to wander by. I will yawn and stretch and maybe take a nap. I’ll read a book, thumb through a magazine and listen to music. I’ll walk the dogs, hold hands with my husband and marvel at the beauty of winter. When the day is over and I must return to reality, I’ll be ready to face the hectic pre-Christmas insanity at work and at home.

Thank you lake for giving me the peace and serenity I so needed. I promise I won’t let another six weeks go by.

Thanksgiving

I love the holidays, especially the major relatives-come-to-visit holidays, which in my family are Easter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. Hailing from a large clan there is always quite a crowd around our table for any celebration; this Thanksgiving we had twenty-seven, twenty-seven relatives and friends under one roof, breaking bread and giving thanks for our many blessings. This year we counted as our number one blessing the presence of my one-hundred and three year old grandmother at the head of the table.

How blessed we are to have our matriarch still with us, how blessed she is to have a family who loves and cares for her as we do. As I looked around our holiday table I was truly thankful for those gathered – husband, daughter, aunts, uncles, cousins, friends – each one a gift. Or as my grandmother says when she looks at her progeny, “You are all my fault” referring to the fact that none of us would be here if it weren’t for her.

Thank you, Grandmother (Big Red), for being the force that keeps up together and gives us so much to be thankful for at Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving Excitement

My sister and her family arrive tonight. I am so excited! I feel like a kid at Christmas (or the kid on the Disneyworld commercial – “I’m too excited to sleep!”) A sister should be a best friend, a confidant, a touchstone to your shared history, and a guiding light toward the future. My sister is all that to me and more.

I credit our parents with the close-knit relationships I have with my siblings. They taught us, by example, the important role family plays in our life. Aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, in-laws, and out-laws are all key to my happiness, but there is something special about a sibling, and there is nothing in the universe like a sister. My mother and her four sisters taught me that from an early age – my aunts still show me daily the importance of sisters.

For two short days I will get to cram in all of the holiday fun I can stand. We will shop, cook, reminisce, laugh, cry, stay up too late, eat and drink too much (at least I will), and do what sisters do – love each other and make more memories to tide us over until we get a chance to do it all again.

Little did I know, all those years ago when we shared a bedroom with twin beds, royal blue quilted bedspreads and a bay window, when I thought she was a pest, that I would one day look so forward to seeing her. They are on the road now, making the long drive for Thanksgiving - my brother-in-law, my niece, my two nephews, and my sister, my best friend. I’m too excited to sleep

Green Tomatoes

If you are from the south, green tomatoes are a delicacy usually only available at the very beginning of tomato season, and again right before the first freeze. In the early summer I judiciously decide which tomatoes will forfeit their ruby red future in exchange for a dip in egg, cornmeal, flour, and a pan of hot oil, to end up on my plate as a fried green tomato. Once that yen has been satisfied, the rest are safe to ripen.

In the late fall I carefully pay attention to the weather forecast, anticipating the first hard freeze. On the appointed day all of the tomatoes – red, green, or in between, are stripped from the vines and brought into the kitchen for sorting. The red tomatoes are put to use immediately. Tomatoes in and on everything. (This year I ate tomato sandwiches for five meals in a row – breakfast, lunch, dinner, breakfast, lunch!)

The in-between or pink tomatoes or even green tomatoes with the slightest hint of a pink blush are individually wrapped in newspaper, placed in a box, and stored in the back of the pantry. I’ll check the box every few days and bring out a newly ripened tomato, one at a time, savoring it as if it were the first tomato of summer. Hopefully, my last tomato of summer will be sometime in December or, if I’m lucky, one or two will last until January.

The green tomatoes are destined for a greater purpose – chow-chow. There are mixed opinions on the much maligned condiment known as chow-chow. I say – If you don’t like chow-chow, you’ve just never had mine. I can’t divulge the recipe (or I’d have to kill you), but it is a concoction of green tomatoes, cabbage, bell peppers, onions, garlic, jalapenos, sugar, vinegar, and pickling spices. It is all chopped, cooked down, and put up in jars to be stingily doled out during the winter. With each bite I am transported to my grandmother’s east Texas kitchen.





A tomato is a wonderful thing. I can hardly wait until it is warm enough to plant again. But, until then, I have jars of canned tomatoes in the pantry, along with wrapped tomatoes ripening slowly and fourteen pints of chow-chow to tide me over.

I'm Back (Again)

I haven’t blogged in weeks. It is amazing how quickly I can get out of a habit. Truth be told, my blog has all but disappeared from my mental radar. I hate that! I enjoy writing this blog and it serves several purposes.

First, it is like an appointment with a therapist. This is my place to vent, to blow off steam, or work out a problem. If I’m bothered by the stupidity of the world (or a co-worker, or the man in front of me with a cart full of groceries in the ten items or less line) thirty minutes with pen and paper helps me release my desire to move to a deserted island or to eat and island size dessert. Considering most psychologists charge over $100 an hour, I’ve saved a considerable amount of money by blogging.

Another reason I blog is for the practice and discipline that comes with it. Knowing that I must (should) keep my blog (somewhat) current forces me to sit down to write on a (somewhat) regular schedule. In my “second half” (that is what those of us over fifty call our life) I’ve discovered a passion for writing. A blog is a good outlet for that passion. It is immediate gratification unlike that unfinished novel or the journal pages no one but me will ever read.

Perhaps the real reason I blog is because it is self-indulgent. I spend the majority of my life taking care of others – the youth I work with in my job, my 103 year old grandmother, my children, and my husband. Writing this blog is a few moments a week when I can pretend that my thoughts and/or the events of my mundane life are important to someone outside of my front door.

In spite of posting my last real blog well over a month ago, this blog is important to me and I will continue to indulge myself by writing it. God knows I need the writing practice and I can’t afford a therapist. I’m back (again)!

Long Time

Wow - Over a month without a blog post.
Horrible blogger! You should be fired!
I will try to do better.
Okay, we won't fire you.