Friday football

One option for Friday night entertainment in The Small Town is the local high school football game. We went there last night.
The admission charge is just a dollar or two cheaper than the high school games in The Big City. The concession food prices are about the same also. 1 mystery meat hot dog + 1 bag of popcorn + 2 cardboard pizza slices= $7.00. Whether there or here, two people can watch the game for the price of one movie theatre ticket.
The half-time show brought to us of course by the high school marching band. Throughout the game I think of my niece who is a trumpeter in the marching band at her high school back in The Big City.

Boy oh boy was it cold! (to me. My Darling Husband thought it refreshing.) It's time to bring out the scarves and heavy gloves.

Go team! Ours are the fellows in orange and black.

Sigh. Football is one of those things I'll just never understand. My Darling Patient Husband--and others in the past--explains some of the rules and technicalities of the game to me, but they've gone out my other ear by the time we watch the next game. But knitting I understand and it's portable. I once took my knitting to my niece's high school's football game. Probably I was the only knitter in the stands. But no matter. It made the minutes fly by until my niece marched with her bandmates on to the field.Even though I am usually totally oblivious to the wheeling and dealing of the moment (Where's the ball??? Which way are they running???), I have the uncanny ability to follow along the game. All I have to do is watch what the crowd is doing. When other fans clap and cheer, I know it is time to clap and cheer.

Of course, that works best when the section I'm sitting in is occupied only by one team's fans. It doesn't work too well at an NFL game where fans from both teams are mixed up like cookie dough in the stands. When My Darling Husband and I were on our honeymoon last year, I surprised him with tickets to a Denver Broncos game. We cheered for the Broncos that day. I remember accidentally clapping for the opposing team then slinking back down into my seat in slight disconcertment upon the realization. The Broncos won that game and even I was excited. I do enjoy going to football games.

Watching it on television is another story. That's like listening to someone talk in a foreign language I don't understand. A foreign language that's not pretty to hear. Once in a million quarters I can follow the ball and then I know what is going on. For a few moments.

Think I'll knit up an orange scarf to match my black coat. Darling Husband requests a manly black scarf. At least I understand color theory.

are you making this deposit into your savings, checking, or just on our lawn?

This paragrah is so small-town life! (The complete article, written by Bill Wyckoff, can be read here.) Just nonchalantly ride your horse through town as if there's no such thing as a vehicle. You can do that in a really small town. In The Small Town you might receive a few surprised looks from motorists. In The Big City, a horseowner would have to drive over to the stables where the horse is boarded, and probably have to get a special permit for a one-time ride through town or participate with your horse in a parade.

"....I just received a cell call from Janet, a long time bank employee. She sounded distraught; I thought something was really wrong. She said a group of kids on horse back came by the bank when she was leaving the parking lot. I’m thinking one of the horses must have kicked her car, bucked off a young rider or something. I ask if she was OK, she said yes but one of the horses left a huge deposit of road apples right in the middle of our drive-in lane.
I broke out laughing, and she said, “I really didn’t expect that reaction from you."
So there you have it, the life of a banker in a small rural town. If the dogs aren’t leaving deposits on the front lawn then the horses are in the back. I must have had too much fun today so I’m headed out to check on my cows.
Hope you are having a great day also."

communication is key

My Darling Husband and I have great communication skills.

He says things without saying a word and I get the message.

"Come to bed, Honey. You shouldn't stay up so late."


"Will you do something already with the giant squash that's been sitting on the kitchen counter for the last two weeks!?"And here the poor squash is crying out for help: Help me! I'm a vegetable.

tidbits of the cake top

Happy First Anniversary, Darling Husband. You were worth the wait. So was the cake.

fly our flag for Patriot Day

In honor of those innocent lives lost to Muslim terrorists on 11 September 2001.

he had a centipede, but I have a Junebug

Speaking of creatures, I'd like to introduce you to the stray kitten that adopted us a couple of weeks ago. Isn't she adooorrrable?! I christened her Junebug for the gold spot on her face. Her visage is like a golden junebug cruising in the night. Night is when I discovered her and her sibling seeking shelter in our back yard from the fireworks being set off in the neighborhood a few days before Independence Day. Junebug came to me right away. They left and I didn't see Junebug for a few days. Then she returned without her sibling. Junebug has been here ever since. There are lots of stray cats in The Small Town and even more in surrounding Even Smaller Towns. And because we have a swimming pool in our back yard, neighborhood strays always make a beeline for our yard. I usually don't feed strays, but when I saw this kitten, who didn't have her mother to depend on, well, how could I leave her to chance? No way.
She loves to be held and cuddled. My Darling Husband is allergic to felines, so sorry, Junebug, you have to stay outside. I'm trying to find a good home for her where she can be an indoor cat. She wants to come in. Just look at that face! So cuuute!

and you thought women have too many shoes

In honor of the classic Saturday morning cartoons, I want to post something funny on Saturday mornings. I grew up with Tom & Jerry, Daffy Duck, Mickey Mouse, Wiley Coyote...those were the good cartoons! None of this new-fangled human/robot hybrids spitting lightning. Ahhh, bring back innocence.

These jokes that I post probably will all have been thought up by someone else, since my humor is more situational and impetuous than to just make up a joke from thin air as some lucky-duck people can do. Today's joke is just hilarious!

This guy was so lonely that he decided life would be more fun if he had a pet. So he went to the pet store and told the owner that he wanted to buy an unusual pet. After some discussion he finally bought a centipede, which came in a little white box to use for his house.
He took the box home, found a good location for the box, and decided he would start off by taking his new pet to the bar for a drink.
So, he asked the centipede in the box, "Would you like to go to Frank's place with me and have a beer?" But there was no answer from his new pet. This bothered him a bit, but he waited a few minutes and then asked him again,"How about going to the bar and having a drink with me?" But again there was no answer from his new friend and pet.
So he waited a few minutes more, thinking about thesituation. He decided to ask him one more time, this time putting his face up against the centipede's house and shouting, "Hey, in there! Would you like to go to Frank's place and have a drink with me?"
A little voice came out of the box: "I heard you the first time! I'm putting my shoes on!"

the taste of summer

Lemon is a perfect summer flavor. It's light and refreshing, whether in a savory dish or included in a dessert. I made this Lemon Pudding Cake last night. It's great except for the hot oven, so I like to bake things at night during the summer, when possible. Delish!

It's from Better Homes and Gardens New Cook Book (1996). I really like Better Homes and Gardens cookbooks. They are basic yet have a wide variety of recipes, which is useful as I pare down my cookbook collection. I searched on the B.H.&G. website for this recipe, to no avail, so here it is:

Lemon Pudding Cake

1/2 cup sugar
3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon finely shredded lemon peel (I used all the lemon peel)
3 tablespoons lemon juice (used all the lemon juice)
2 tablespoons butter or margarine, melted (used butter)
2 slightly beaten egg yolks
1 cup milk
2 egg whites

Combine sugar & flour. Stir in lemon peel, lemon juice & melted butter. Combine egg yolks & milk. Add to flour mixture; stir just till combined. Beat egg whites till stiff peaks form. Gently fold egg whites into lemon batter. Transfer batter to a 1-quart casserole. Place the casserole in a large pan on an oven rack. Pour hot water into the large pan surrounding the casserole to a depth of 1 inch.
Bake in a preheated 350 degree (Farenheit) oven about 40 minutes or till golden & top springs back when lightly touched near the center. Remove casserole dish from the water bath & cool just until warm. Best served when warm.
Makes 4 servings.


Just look at that delectable pudding juxtaposed against soft crumbly cake. It's such a pretty pastel yellow.
My Darling Husband taste tested it last night.
This evening he was out, and I was left alone with the pudding cake.
I tried to save some for you, Darling Husband.
Really I did.
But my sweet tooth got the better of me.
Guess I'll have to make more!

swimmin' with the frogs

This was my dream pool (no idea where the photo's from; have had it saved on my computer for a few years, along with other home idea pictures): flowers right up to the water's edge...chairs close by to sink into after a morning swim...clear, blue water.... When I started landscaping plans for our house last year, I envisioned swimming with the scents of roses and lavender wafting by. My Darling Husband had other thoughts--keep the plants as far away from the pool as possible. His reasoning for that makes logical sense, so I've compromised on the landscaping scheme.

Well, at least our chairs are close to the water's edge, and the water becoming clear and blue is not a dream, but reality. It's becoming reality. Cleaning out a (our) pool is arduous labor, especially when that pool is inhabited by the green reptilian set and is as gooey as the bottom of a muddy Midwestern lake. I'd almost rather pay a certain pool company the $1,800 they would charge to clean it. If we had the green monetary set, that is.

Instead we have started the cleaning process ourselves. I must commend My Darling Husband for donning some old clothes and venturing into the murky waters to scoop the goo. I was the one staying (mostly) dry by carting the goo in the wheelbarrow to the compost bin. Little black tadpoles and polliwogs in dark brown leafy goo, and marina stench x 100 = gag me with a spoon...and a fork and knife!

That was yesterday. A big, strong male friend with a stronger countenance than me has offered to help My Darling Husband turn our pond back into the pool it was meant to be. Whew, thank goodness for friends! He can have all the swim time he wants when the pool is ready for occupation by humans.

there's room in this inn

Have you seen this? A Jewish family was denied a hotel room because of the owner's racism. Amazing how it's happening again in Austria, the birthplace of that horrible man Adolph Hitler.

If you're ever in The Big City, a stay here would be nice (or this one is nice, but I've not stayed at this one. I went to this one to listen to jazz). The staff is welcoming and the location is superb...right in the heart of a scenic area. The original buildings in the neighborhood date from the 1920s.