That's Amore!

"That's Amore" is a 1952 song by composer Harry Warren and lyricist Jack Brooks. It became a major hit and signature song for Dean Martin in 1953. Amore means "love" in Italian, giving a general translation in English to "that's love.” Through the years I remember hearing Dean Martin sing this song and it always brought thoughts of soothing thoughts and romantic scenes running through my mind like a corner Italian bistro with a table set for two, a bottle of wine and two lovers holding hands, gazing starry-eyed into each others eyes. Ahhhhhhh....

Well, so much for my daydreaming! Today, I take Valentine’s Day as a chance to show my love and appreciation to those I love, and to be the recipient of same! If it isn’t said every day, then V-Day is as good as a time as ever to say I “HEART” U! So, I look forward to this day, when I know that I will receive flowers and a well-thought-out card from my husband; Bob knows he will get candy, some well-thought out gift, and a well-sought-after card; my boys (and their girls) will be getting something special from me, too.

I posted on Facebook yesterday that Bob has not failed me in the last 20 years with “surprising” me with flowers for Valentine’s. It is usually always red roses, but in the past he has changed it up some. One year it was white roses, one year white calla lilies and red roses and even a mixture of different colored roses. He doesn’t want to get too predictable, and I do like that. I may be selfish, but I love getting flowers for Valentine’s Day. I don’t need the candy or anything else. But the flowers – they warm my heart. It also helps get the through the Winter blues; gives me hope that I will soon be out there tending to my rose bushes and other flowers in my gardens. Call me selfish if you want, but I would have it no other way. And, again, this year he didn’t fail me. When I got home I found a beautiful display of a mixture of a dozen roses with colors ranging from red, pink, white, yellow. It, of course, warmed my heart.

This year, I was doubly surprised because the boys, Casey and Brady, their girls, Nika and Jenne, and their dogs, Pongo and Paris, surprised me with red roses and a card. I was able to meet up with Brady and Jenne outside of a Madison hospital where Jenne’s dad had surgery yesterday. Not the typical location for an exchange of gifts, but it works. Brady and Jenne were able to open up their gifts and they presented me with the red roses. Casey and Nika are coming back this weekend, so they will have to wait for their’s until then.

I always try to change things up every year. In the past, sometimes they have all gotten the same thing. One year, I gave them all a large bowl (which I called their popcorn bowls), filled with candy and chocolates and a little something special to each. Some years they have gotten clothes, CDs or DVDs. Bob’s gifts this year were lots of candy and a couple Packer Super Bowl t-shirts (which he wanted and I was holding off getting for me). Brady got a Brewer’s zipup and Jenne got a Packers t-shirt, and of course, they also got candy. Casey and Nika . . . well, I guess since I am posting this before they arrive home, I can’t tell what I got for them. But I hope they like it.

Jenne told me that after two-and-a-half years together, she finally got flowers from Brady. That makes a momma proud that he has finally stepped up! Way to go, Brady. And on my way home, I talked to Casey and chastised him when he told me he hadn’t gotten Nika anything but a card that he drew himself. Of course, he was joking with me just to get a rise out of me – which the boys know they can do! But he stepped up, too, with flowers, candy and a card. Hmmm . . . maybe they HAVE been paying attention through the years.

One thing Bob and I always traditionally do, too, is we go out to eat. Since we are farmers and I also work off the farm, sometimes our Valentine’s Day dinner date might not necessarily coincide exactly with Valentine’s Day itself. This year, we went out to eat at Longhorn Steakhouse on Sunday, the day before Valentine’s. We were able to get away for a few hours in the middle of the day, to enjoy a meal by ourselves, and hold hands at the bar while we waited for our table. Not anything too fancy or overly romantic, but it works for us. Many years ago, Bob and I had started a little tradition where we always got a heart-shaped pizza for Valentine’s Day. We hadn’t done that for awhile, so last night when I left work, I stopped and picked one up on the way. It was late when I got home, after 8:30, so this was just right for us. On Sunday after we got home for our date lunch, I made, frosted and decorated some simple Valentine Day cookies. I found that one cookie cutter I did not have was a heart-shaped one, so after lunch we had a couple errands to run and I looked for one, but alas, couldn’t find one. So round I went with. That works just as well, too.

Everyone has their holiday traditions and starting a Valentine’s Day one isn’t too bad of any idea. We live in a fast-paced world today and taking the time out of one day of the year to show your love and appreciation for those that you love isn’t too much to ask. And everyone has their own way of showing that love. If it is untraditional or unorthodox, who cares – if it works for you, that is all that matters. It certainly works for me.

The Groundhog Day Blizzard

February 1, 2011, a Tuesday night, proved to be a testament to the power of prayer and a mouth that should have been washed out with soap. We were expecting to get hit with what the meteorologists were calling blizzard conditions starting at around 3:00 p.m. CST. I put my feelers out to my husband (at the farm) and to my sister in Dodgeville that once they saw the snow start to come down, they should call or email me right away because at that point I would head for the hills. My sister Kristi emailed me around 3:30 to say it had just started snowing in Dodgeville. Bob waited until 3:45 to say it has started, so you better head home now. He said the snow wasn’t coming down that hard, it was just that the wind was picking up and getting stronger by the moment.

So by the time I finished up a few things at the office, I finally headed out the door about 4:30. Yep, should have probably gotten on the road a little sooner, but whether I am trying to get out the door in the morning to head to work, or get out the door at night from work to head home, I am always trying to get one more thing done. Hence, the case again. The winds almost seemed like they were whipping in from the East (I suppose more of a Northeasterly wind) because everything was drifting on the east side of the road. The whiteout conditions were the worst. I couldn’t see anything except for a few feet in front of me; okay, maybe more like yards, but seemed like feet! I had my headset on and, as usual, was talking to him all the way home. My end of the conversation was mostly limited to two or three word expletives like “Holy Sh_t” or “Oh My God” because each mile down the road seemed to bring a new adventure. These are the types of adventures I don’t really care for.

My 35-mile ride home seemed to take forever. What normally would have taken me 45 minutes turned into around two hours. Not your scenic Sunday drive, that’s for sure! In essence, if I really want to give myself a little credit, I would say that I did leave just in time. Some of the roads were starting to plug up from the drifts across the road. And since my trusty four-wheel drive Durango is no longer in service, my front-wheel drive Grand Prix had to learn to buck a few drifts she wished she hadn’t seen or will ever see again. My biggest fears along the way were meeting cars. Those that I would meet would be heading North, as I was heading South. Their lane was the one that was completely drifted in, heading into my lane. When the whiteout conditions were happening, the approaching car couldn’t see me and if they were trying to avoid the drifts in their lane and were driving in mine, it does not bode well for them or me. Luckily, once I got off the four-lane highway and was on the two-lane roads, I met very few cars; only two, in fact.

Once I got into town, I quickly ran into the store to pick up a few extra staples that I thought I might be running low on because we had already planned that I wouldn’t be at work the next day. I knew that the last four miles out to the farm might prove to be the worst, but heck at least I had milk with me! I can say for certainty, though, that once I got to my driveway – and even though Bob hadn’t plowed it for me yet – it was a sight I had been looking for in the past two hours and could have gotten out and kissed the ground underneath, except I would have had to dig down quite a bit to find it. The milk truck had just pulled in so I did have some tracks to follow. When I pulled up to the house, Bob was just getting ready to head down the driveway to plow for me, just a tad too late, but that’s okay as long as I had the milk truck tracks.

The name for our little snowfall – The Groundhog Day Blizzard. The snow continued into the night and got worse with high winds meddling a little, too. I haven’t seen snow and blizzards like this since I was a kid. At the farm we received about eight inches of snow Tuesday. Then Tuesday night into Wednesday, we got socked with 18 inches more. We now have mounds, or more appropriately, hills of snow piled higher than our tractor with the cab on it. Now these were the types of snow hills we liked to play on when we were kids. This snow has stuck with us for a couple weeks with below zero temps and below zero wind chills. (The picture above is of the farm after we started digging out on Groundhog Day).

It has definitely been a rough Winter, but the one good thing is that Jimmy The Groundhog didn’t see his shadow. Heck, for that matter, Jimmy probably couldn’t get out of his hole in the ground. This means, of course, that we will have an early Spring. Now I don’t care if Jimmy’s prediction percentage is good, bad or in between. When you have had a long, rough Winter, any little slip of hope that Spring will be just right around the corner is good enough for me. So if Jimmy wanted to come out of his hole, cross his fingers behind his back and tell me that Spring is on the doorstep, I’m a believer. Hope is one thing that no person (or animal) should take away from another. Just look what Jimmy has done for the economy – now that I think Spring is coming rapidly, I’ve been busy ordering plants. I’ve made new plans for what I am going to do outside in the yard. See, Jimmy has got the rhythm of what the country really needs. Hope!

Now here we are the day after Valentine’s Day, and I am happy as a lark. The weather is in the 40's (we even had highs in the 50's on Sunday), it is staying light longer at night (my car lights don’t even come on now until I am a couple miles from work) and the Winter Blues are starting to melt away. Speaking of melting away, even this huge dump of snow is melting away. The snow banks along the way home, where there was sometimes only one lane to drive in, are now to the point where you can actually meet a car and not have to worry about who is going to end up in the snowbank.

The birds are out and about, too; some never having left this Winter – which is a reminder that I need to get out to check my bird feeders. The birds have made quite an impact on what I had put out there so far this year, so I need to try to stay ahead of them. After all, if they wanted to suffer through Old Man Winter’s bad mood swings with me, I had better give them a good feast as a reward.

Yes, I’m looking forward to Spring, and it can’t come soon enough. And, if Mother Nature and Old Man Winter are still crotchety and want to throw one or two more snowfalls at me, I can suffer through it, too, just like the birds have. After all, hope has different names like the Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus, and in the dead of Winter, hope is called Jimmy The Groundhog.

The Miracle of Birth; The Sadness of Death; & A Devastating Tragedy

[I wrote this on January 22, 2011, but just didn’t have a chance to finish it up and post it. So now here it is.]

It is amazing how different things in your life change in the blink of an eye. I was driving home last night when my Mother called to tell me my niece, Tracy, and her husband, Ryan, had their baby. Leyton Ryan was born at 5:16 p.m. after Tracy suffered through 17 hours of labor. I feel for her. I had approximately two hours of labor from start to finish with both my boys, so I can be compassionate, though not knowing the true extent of her pain for a grueling 17 hours. When I spoke with her this morning, she said that the pain was so intense up until the time she received the epidural, but “don’t let anyone fool you, those epidurals hurt, too!” I mentioned to her that I bet I knew her feelings in those last few minutes of intense pushing and pain, “what have I gotten myself in to” and “I’m never going to do this again.” Which she said were exactly the thoughts. But as I so truly remember, and she agreed, those thoughts quickly melt away the minute you see the product of those nine months of pregnancy -- when you get to peer into the little face of the creation you have just witnessed. It is truly a miracle.

After I got home, with the thoughts so clear in my head of the happy event that just occurred, I was preparing supper and started watching the Tucson memorial service where President Obama spoke. Bob groaned a little when he came in to see that I was watching it, but he, too, quickly got swept up in the moment. It was touching, inspirational, moving, and a tear-jerker. At first, I was afraid it would turn into a political rally by the way the Dean of the University of Arizona started to introduce President Obama (and, mind you, I am a Democrat and love Barack – but there is a place and time for that and this was not it), but saw the shift of sentiment once Obama set forth to deliver the message he was sent to do. Again, I was reminded many times during his memorial delivery of how life is so precious and that we have to enjoy and live every moment, because we never know what is right around the corner. My most memorable portions of Obama’s memorial tribute last night were the words he spoke about little 9-year-old Christina Taylor Greene and how at such a young age she was so committed to community and public service. He spoke of what her expectations of life were, how the bookends of her life were not so dissimilar being born on a national tragedy, “911" (9/11/2001), and leaving this world on the day of and amidst another national tragedy. Yes, the end of her life did bring the nation to its knees just as the beginning did, but Barack also asked that we as a nation live up to the expectations of Christian and the other youth of our nation. Again, very awe-inspiring to listen to and yet very reminiscent of a slideshow of the pictures of each of our lives. Definitely brings you back to the saying, "Live each day to the fullest as we never know what tomorrow will bring."

This has been a week of beginnings and endings of sort. They say that when one enters this life, another passes. I found that to ring true. At the beginning of this week a dear friend’s mother and the great-grandmother to my niece/goddaughter passed away. It was about this time last year when I was sort of reunited with Margaret. She was in the nursing home where my Aunt was before she passed away. I would try to stop in and visit with Margaret every time I was there, if even to make a point to walk to her room just to say “hi” if I was running out of time. At times I was there longer; she and I would have longer conversations; not about anything specifically to start out with but just news from town or generalities, but it would always inevitably turn into conversing about memories of some sort; that I am always intrigued about and can sit for hours listening to stories of “yesteryear.”

So, I was saddened to hear the news of her passing on Monday. I had actually been thinking about her over the weekend because I happened to see someone that had been at the nursing home convalescing and my initial thoughts were I needed to stop in at the nursing home just to have a quick visit with some of the residents I loved to visit with. Unfortunately, that thought came and went too quickly and the next thing I know Margaret has passed. As I said, we never know what is around the next corner.

Then last night a miracle in the form of the start of the next generation of our family. I have seen the babies born from my Mother as the eldest girl (one older brother) and a little span of years between the next younger sibling. I swaddled, fed, burped, changed, bathed them and watched them grow up to have babies of their own. I have swaddled, fed, burped, changed and bathed them. Now, I get to do the same to the next generation.

The cycle of life is a powerful thing. It can be so magnificent when you witness the miracle of birth and yet when you see tragedies evidenced with the shooting in Tucson. It can bring you to your knees in pain, suffering and sorrow. I guess it keeps our perspectives in check when we reach for each new day. Birth, death and the dawn of a new day – never anything to take for granted.

A Little Trial And Error Makes It All Taste Better

A couple weeks ago, when Casey and Nika, Brady and Jenne were home for the weekend, we went to my niece Kristal’s basketball game in Darlington on a Saturday morning. Since Casey and Nika were home for the weekend, my plans were to make lunch and dinner for all of us. My dinner plan for that night was lasagna, but I wasn’t quite sure what I wanted to make for lunch. So before we left the school, I asked the "kids" and we decided on hamburgers and deep-fried homemade french fries. I needed to make a quick trip to the store to pick up some buns and a couple other little things, but while in the store I thought as long as I have the deep-fryer going, maybe I should make some homemade cheese curds, too. Nika had never had cheese curds, and Casey was telling her she was missing out on something special.

Earlier in the week, my office had gone out for a birthday luncheon and we went downtown in Madison to a new restaurant that had opened up recently, Graze. The birthday boy got to pick the place and this is where he wanted to go. Tim had said he had heard they had the most amazing cheese curds and that once you had them, you would never want for them any other place. He was right!

So, after I had told this story to the kids, I felt my next task would be to compete with Graze’s version of cheese curds.

Once we got home we got the burgers started and I pulled out my beer batter recipe. I told Casey he was going to have to suck it up (since he doesn’t drink and never has), but he said it was okay, he could handle it being in just the batter! We cut up the potatoes into french fries, placed them in buttermilk and let them soak for a couple minutes. Next we gave them a quick rinse and patted them dry, then they were put into the deep fryer for their first dunk. Once they had begun to crisp up a little, we pulled them out and let them drain for a bit. Then they went back in to crisp up. Once the fries were done and the burgers were topped with cheese and had melted, we served them up and then onto the trial and error for the cheese curds.

We dunked the cheese curds in the batter and then dropped them into the deep fryer. These turned out good, but I was not totally satisfied. I needed to perfect this, so I saw another opportunity for my next food experiment.

The next night after everyone had left, I decided that I would give the leftover batter a swing with some onions. I love onion rings, but Bob (not being an onion fan) is not particularly fond of them. What he does not care for is a stringy onion, that when you bite into the onion ring the whole onion ring comes slithering out and sometimes, unfortunately even I have had this problem, you can end up slurping that onion ring whole which makes for a very uncomfortable swallowing experience. The original recipe I had did not call for any seasonings, which on the curds I felt it was something it needed. So now to find the perfect combination of seasonings for the batter. I added a little garlic powder and some pepper to the first batch. I used white onions and cut them into some what thin ringlets. I put them in the batter and then set the bowl into the refrigerator to somewhat harden the batter and set them on the rings. I kept them in the refrigerator for about an hour. This did prove to be a good idea, because the batter hung to the ringlets much more properly. When I deep fried them, they came out so tender that they actually melted in your mouth. Bob thought the same. But this batter still needed some perfection.

Last night, I decided to try the onion rings again, but this time I added another half cup of flour and then added some Cavender’s and garlic powder, along with some black pepper. Ummmm, much better. I even cut the onion slices a little larger and, walla, so much better. (One star for me). Bob thought the larger slices would be bothersome to him, but they weren’t. Ahhhhh! (Two stars for me!) After draining, I sprinkled them with a little salt and pepper, and yes, they were so, so much better.

Cooking is so much like life -- a little trial and error never hurts – in fact, it always makes things better.

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And here is my refined recipe:

Beer Batter

1 egg beaten
1 can of beer
1-3/4 cups flour
1 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. garlic powder
1/2 tsp. pepper
1/2-3/4 T. Cavender’s Greek Seasoning

Beat the egg with a fork, then add the beer; next add the dry ingredients and whisk until throughly incorporated.

Where's the Beef? (It's In The Sauce, Baby, It's All In The Sauce!)

The thought of something a little different for dinner today had my mind racing when I woke up this morning. I was thinking some kind of a beef sauce over either noodles or boiled potatoes. Once my morning rituals/routine was over with, I went to the freezer and pulled out a package of sirloin steak. One large piece of meat! I put it in the microwave to thaw. Four and-one-half minutes later I pulled it out and set it out to rest for a moment. I then poured some EVOO (extra virgin olive oil)(thanks to Rachel Ray for that signature word!) into a non-stick skillet and let that start to warm up on medium high heat.

Next I took the meat and cut off all portions of the fat and sliced it into strips and then smaller 1 to 1-1/2" pieces. Laying the pieces out on the cutting board, I then sprinkled them with kosher salt, pepper, and Cavender’s seasoning, turned them over and repeated the same on the other side. (Never be afraid to salt the meat, it needs it to bring out the true flavors!) Next, I filled a large flatter bowl with flour (about 1" deep) and tossed some pieces in and rolled them around in the flour. Once they were thoroughly coated, I laid them out in the hot pan to begin to sear and brown (at about medium heat), repeating the process until all the pieces were coated with flour and were dropped into the pan. Before turning and once the pieces began to show that the flour on the top side was “melting” I next sprinkled a thin layer of sugar over the top of the pieces. Sugar. . . yes, sugar. I do this as it aids in caramelizing the pieces of meat. You just lightly sprinkle them, and, no, they won’t take on a sweet taste (but it does aid a little in the flavoring of the sauce). Once they were sprinkled with sugar, I then turned them over to brown the top side.

When all the pieces were browned (and still pink in the middle) I then went to my cupboard for beef broth. And, unfortunately, I didn’t find any. Fortunately, though, I did have chicken broth. I have found that you can easily substitute chicken broth for beef broth. All you need to do is add some beef bouillon cubes, if you have them (which I always have on hand) and/or add some Kitchen Bouquet. I did both, in this case. I turned the heat down to a medium low, and added about a cup of chicken broth and then dropped in three beef bouillon cubes and drizzled some Kitchen Bouquet over the top. The KB gave it a darker, richer looking sauce. I let this meld together for about 10 minutes and then turned the heat to low once I knew the bouillon cubes were dissolved. I gave the mixture a good stir to mix things up, put a cover on it, turned it on low simmer and let it simmer for an hour and a half. Midway through the process, I added about another half cup of chicken broth.

Next I waited for Bob to come in to decide which way to go – noodles or potatoes. He said he was sick of potatoes at the moment so wanted noodles. So I put some water on to boil and once it came to a boil added some salt and then the wide dumpling noodles. (How much you might say, it was about half a bag). Once the noodles were cooked, I drained them and placed them into a larger flatter bowl/platter. I then poured the beef mixture, (which by now had turned into a dark, rich, thick velvety sauce) over the noodles and tossed them a bit to mix the sauce in with the noodles. I then topped them with a sprinkling of shredded Parmesan cheese and then a thinner layer of shredded Romano cheese.

I served this with some warm rolls and buttery kernel corn.

When Bob comes in from outside and I am in the midst of “experimenting,” he will always pick up the covers off any pans on the stove (or peek in the oven) and always, predictably always, gives me the same old wrinkled up nose routine of “what the hell is this?” Most of time he is very pleasantly surprised at the finished product. This produced quite a bit of food, but by the time we were done eating today, there was only a small bowl of leftovers. Even though he won’t usually say the words, that is his way of saying “not bad, baby, not bad!”

I have to say that I thought so myself today, too . . . not bad, baby, not bad!

Cleaning Up The Economy, Cleaning Out the Fridge -- All A Little Catty

I’m catching it from a little bit here and a little bit there about not posting to my blog lately. I have now identified my cousin, Jo, as my enforcer to keep me on task. I have started a few to post, but never finished them.

So now here I sit festering about something else and am starting a new one and not getting to the old. I guess the old will sit and ripen a little more while I try to finish this one.

I’ve read a couple articles the last few days that have me feeling a little unstable about our economy and 2011. I was hoping that 2011 would come in as a good year and finish out the same way. Too many deaths in the family in 2010 made me anxious for a new start, a new year.

But, as I have seen gas prices start to increase, I’m less optimistic on the economic horizon for the new year. I’m hoping personally things run more smoothly. As I have seen in these recent articles it appears everyone seems to know that 2011 will be a challenging year for dairymen. A quote from a recent article in Dairy Herd Network, stated, “It's real simple,” . . . “For dairymen in 2011, it's going to be survival of the fittest.” Now, of course, since we are dairy farmers, that is not what personally what I want to hear.

Due to a growing global economy, unpredictable water supply and rising feed costs, dairy farmers in California are bracing themselves for another uncertain year in 2011. If that is just the case in California, then it bodes well for us farmers in Wisconsin. But with the price of corn steadily increasing in recent years due to the growth in biofuels, farmers who traditionally grew corn as feed for dairy cows are now getting a better price selling that crop as ethanol. With less overall supply on the market, farmers who do supply feed for dairies can bump up their prices. Dairy and corn prices have traditionally mirrored each other, but the use of corn for ethanol has changed all that. We, unfortunately, buy all our feed, so we will see the impact directly.

Even though the dairy industry as a whole can be viewed as a minefield, farmers can remain optimistic and even look overseas for potential revenue. Certain dairy products, such as cheese and ice cream, are highly sought after overseas, so dairy producers can hope that exports can pick up in 2011. Logistically speaking, it's nearly impossible to ship fluid milk overseas, but items such as dehydrated milk powders and other manufactured dairy products can make up most of the exports, so hopefully the trend will continue to grow. We are always told that because the market is flooded in this country, export, export, export.

So what does that mean for the cost of dairy and agricultural products in the United States? One article I recently read was from the National Inflation Association. At number eight in their top 10 economic predictions for 2011 is food inflation and it is predicting that food inflation will become America’s top crisis. This how they explained it, “Starting a few decades ago, and accelerating in recent years, America has seen a boom in non-productive service jobs, mainly in the financial sector. Most of these jobs were made possible by inflation. Without inflation, which steals from the purchasing power of the incomes and savings of goods-producing workers, the majority of the jobs on Wall Street would not exist today and our country would be in much better financial shape because of it.

With most Americans in recent decades seeking non-productive jobs in the financial services sector, because that is where they could access the Fed's cheap and easy money, very few Americans sought jobs in the farming and agriculture sector. In the 1930s, approximately 28 percent of the population was employed in the agriculture sector, but today this number is less than 2 percent. Agriculture currently makes up only 1.2 percent of U.S. GDP, compared to the services sector, which makes up 76.9 percent of U.S. GDP.

There is currently a major shortage of farmers in the U.S., and a lot of land that was previously used for farming has now been developed with real estate. To make matters worse, agricultural products now trade on the international market, and Americans must now compete against citizens of emerging nations like China and India for the purchasing of food.

Prices of goods and services do not rise equally when governments create monetary inflation. Inflation gravitates most towards the items that Americans need the most, and there is nothing that Americans need more to survive than food and agriculture. As the U.S. government prints money, the first thing Americans will spend it on is food. Americans can cut back on energy use by moving into a smaller home and car pooling to work. They can cut back on entertainment, travel, and other discretionary spending. However, Americans can never stop spending money on food.

The days of cheap food in America are coming to an end. The recent unprecedented rise that we have seen in agricultural commodity prices is showing no signs of letting up. Recently sugar futures reached a new 30-year high, coffee futures reached a new 13-year high, orange juice futures reached a new 3-year high, corn futures reached a new 29-month high, soybean futures reached a new 27-month high, and palm oil futures reached a new 33-month high.”

I’m not sure about you, but I am less concerned about the price of palm oil, but I am concerned about the price of my coffee, orange juice, sugar, etc. This brought me to the initial concerns I had about food in my own house. I’ve noticed a lot of waste. Yes, waste in my house and I am totally ashamed of it. I know, I know . . . there are starving kids in Africa, etc., etc. That is why I mentally slapped myself. No one else needs to beat up on me over this, as I do it every time I clean out the refrigerator, which I will remind myself and anyone else – it is one of my less favorite household tasks. I think maybe because of two elements: (1) the fear I am going to find something green and slimy that was never green and slimy in the first place and/or was never, ever, meant to be green and slimy, and (2) the amount of waste that I am throwing out. Now I suppose I could reward myself a little and say it isn’t truthfully going to waste because our cats will devour it as soon as I set it out there for them. They have even been known to eat leftover jell-O. What cat in their right mind would eat something squiggly like that once it has reached its prime? But they do. There are non-discriminating when it comes to eating.

But back to my problems with throwing food out. I think this is actually where it is deep rooted. I cannot throw food out. Not from the very beginning when they are prepared and it is even harder at the very end when they cremated themselves into something unrecognizable. I grew up in a household of seven kids, from a farming family with a big garden, so we always had plenty of home-grown food. A lot of food was served up at each meal and what wasn’t eaten was put away in the refrigerator. My dad never liked to see food wasted and he was a good one to eat leftovers. I am the same way, as long as the food is still in its prime, mind you. I can make a meal on the weekend and take that same meal to work four days in a row. It doesn’t bother me. My husband on the other hand always claims he will eat the leftovers and, to a certain extent, he does. But he will not eat the same thing two days in a row. He always also claims that he forgot about a certain leftover being in the refrigerator. That’s okay, I guess, because he certainly isn’t going hungry at this point. Again, some of the problem probably rests with my upbringing because I still cook like I am feeding nine people instead of the number we are down to now – two.

So, last night, I kicked myself when I opened the frig and realized I had a feast sitting there waiting for . . . the cats. (Sometimes I think I put the blinders on when I look in there!) I thought back to the recent articles about food prices and inflation hitting an all time high this year and I’m thinking I have to either cut back on my portion sizes when I am cooking, relieving Bob of electively picking out what will be today’s meal when I am gone, or . . . getting more cats.

We are actually in need of more cats (female that is as we are over run by males and the females are all gone), so maybe until I properly train myself in cutting my favorite recipes down to portions of two, I can fatten up those cats a little bit more.

I can’t for the life of me figure out why the taste of mice have started to slip off their menu choices. Finicky felines. . .

Work, Work, Work

Wow, Fall has simply dropped in fast. The leaves are turning and falling from the trees. A soft and then harder frost the last couple nights have taken my plants to the brink of no return. I didn’t cover them because they were due to be weeded out of my planters anyway. My roses, surprisingly, have still survived.

I have tons of Fall planting to do, but am waiting for my shipments to arrive. Some old beds are going to get some new looks come Spring, and hopefully, once all is planted, they will survive the Winter. That word - Winter - is like a bad four-letter word in my vocabulary. Ewwwwww! Yes, I like the looks of a new-fallen snow. There is nothing more pretty when the sun is glistening off of it. That is, if I don’t have to go out and drive in it. If I can stay inside where it is toasty, then it is okay (or semi-okay). I have gotten to dislike snow. The older I get, the more I hate it because I hate to the fight of driving in it. But, for now, let’s put thoughts of that on the back burner.

Some of the plants I’ve ordered this Fall were : Rembrandt Tulip Mix, “Apeldoorn Elite” Tulips, “Cote D’Azur” Asiatic Lilies, “Destined to See” Daylilies, “Blue Pearl” Dutch Irises, “Lingerie” Fringed Tulips, Oriental Lily Mix, “Ruffled Patty” Ruffled Poppies, “Meringue” and “Pink Double Delight” Echinacea (Coneflowers), “Magic Star” Double Oriental Lilies (not shipping til Spring), “First Cherry Blossom” Darwin Hybrid Tulips, “Survivor” Mayflowering Tulips, “Cappuccino” Tango Lilies, “Candy Apple Delight” Tulips, and “Purple Flag” Tulips. These were all originally supposed to be shipped after September 27. Now, my orders show that they will be shipped, some on or about October 27th and others on or about November 11th. Hmmmm...good chance the ground will be frozen by then or it will have a cover of snow. Well, I might as well plan out my planting guide now, till up the old beds, plant what bulbs and plants I have already, put a pot where the ones who haven’t arrived yet go, get my mulching done and then see what type of weather we have by the date they arrive. Understandably, though, that since I have to arrive over 150 bulbs and/or plants, I am sure that I will be a bit cranky when it comes time to plant them. Plus, they will need to be watered once planted, and who wants to water plants if it is cold outside. Not me. But for the love of my plants, I will dutifully do so. Geez....

My time for the Fall projects is closing in quickly. I’ve got many to do and have to carefully plan out my calendar in order to get them done. We have been frantically working on my Aunt’s (Auntie) house in order to get it ready for sale. The inside now looks great, but still have a little yard work to complete. So most of my weekends have been spent at her place with little time to do things at home.

I finished getting some of the furniture rearranged at home this past weekend, after spending Saturday at Auntie’s. Yesterday was spent doing that plus making a run to the pharmacy for some prescriptions I forgot to pick up Friday. Now I need to tackle the garage and my “back room.” My back room contains all my storage totes and I need to dig out my Fall floral arrangements, because now it is getting late and I will be needing to dig out the Christmas decorations soon. Speaking of that, I was in Kohl’s last week and low and behold, the Christmas decorations were out. Not quite in full force, but they were there. And my nose was right in the mix of things there, too. I spied some new Christmas Village buildings and accessories I would like and I also saw some Christmas ornaments I wanted to get my hands on. But I held back. Didn’t quite feel right to bring home Christmas decorations when I knew I still had to pick up pumpkins for decorating. Which, by the way, I did pick up yesterday on my way home from Madison. Got some large ones, some medium ones, some small ones and some table top miniature pumpkins, gourds and Indian corn. If I would have had more time after I got back yesterday, I would have tried to tackle the back room to get the Fall decorations out, but I needed to get the mowing done. Plus once that was done, I was P-O-O-P-E-D. But that didn’t stop me until about 8:30. Then it was time to eat, and sit down to watch Desperate Housewives and Brothers & Sisters. I really didn’t have much energy left at that point. Okay, well just enough to finish up and fold two loads of laundry.

Then it was time to go to bed. Bob had made it up there before I did, and as I was shutting off the TV and lights downstairs, it was only to hear “Do you want to make the bed so I can go to bed sometime tonight!” Ooopppps, I washed bedding and had taken it off the clothesline while I was mowing and forgot about it. It was still sitting in the basket waiting to go up and be put on the bed. Yuck! There is nothing I hate worse than having to make the bed right before I crawl in, because I am usually bushed and that is the last thing I want to do. And last night I was bushed, and cold, with temps outside dropping below freezing and we refusing to turn the furnace on yet, the house was a little on the cool side. Well, at least the sheets smelled fresh like the outdoors. The only thing better than that would have been if they were my flannel sheets instead.

Needless to say....I turned the furnace on for a few minutes this morning. I had run a couple loads out to the dumpster at about 5:30 and it was brisk outside. The cats were up and ready to be fed, but Pongo was having none of that. He wanted a quick jolt outside to do his duty and then back in to crawl under the covers. I had made some cinnamon rolls last night before going to bed and set them out to rise so when I got up around 4:30, I stuck them in the oven. The smell of them baking this morning and the warmth of the oven might have made others feel warm, but I was still chilled, so against my better judgment, I turned the furnace on for a couple hours...just enough to take the chill out of the house, make Pongo quit shivering and make me finally come to the conclusion that I did not really need to soak in a warm bath this morning. Crap...maybe I should have left the furnace off. I guess I really didn’t have much time before going to work anyway since I was puttering around doing this and that this morning, I wasted any hope of a soak in the tub anyway. A warm shower had to do instead.

Temperatures around here are supposed to be back up into the 70's this week so maybe I can still get the flower beds done on Friday, but I wanted that day to be mostly a “clean the garage out” day. That is always a day Bob and I put off until we really NEED to get it done, whether it be Spring or Fall, but I’ve been in such a “get-it-done-and-organized now” mood lately, that I will probably try to do both.

Yep, my “Do It” calendar is quickly filling up. I only wish it wasn’t dark by the time I get home from work now, because if I only had a few more daylight hours at night, I could still accomplish a lot outside. Oh, well, it will still be there waiting for me on the weekends.