MINUTAE

Muh-NOO-shuh--(close enough)--Little Stuff!

Our temps are drop-drop-dropping, overnights are sinking to the 20s, daytime temps try to keep us encouraged with 40s (I guess that's better than 20s or teens!) . . . so I'm scurrying around trying to round up some Little Stuff to think about, mull over, smile at, even laugh! Little Stuff keeps me from sinking along with the thermometer readings.

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Couple of days ago I jotted down a list of Little Stuff that made me smile. Here's some of the list:

--the city leaf truck came by! Apparently there are leaves down in some neighborhoods. My street isn't doing its part because the leaf vacuum passed right by most of the houses on my side of the street and found a few little piles of leafy stuff across from my house.

--and while I'm on the subject of leaves, I'm really disappointed in this year's crop. Driving through the countryside I see trees in the distance--completely covered in gold--yellow to bright gold to bronze. Where's the red? Where's the orange? There are even green leaves, for pity's sake, still hanging on. The only red leaves I've discovered are on ornamental trees planted in landscaped yards. Ma Nature didn't come through this year.

--autumn photos for 2021 are few and far between, if I want color. You'll see repeats of pics from years gone by. Just saying.

--lunch with friends. While it's not truly Little Stuff, it's a once-in-a-while event in my life again and it makes me happy. A 15-20 minute drive through the country (see above reference to disappointing autumn trees) and I arrive at a great restaurant that serves good tavern food--large variety of sandwiches, five or six kinds of potatoes (I have to specify French fries, or I might end up with American, hashed brown, cottage, or a couple others), chili (obviously homemade on the premises), perpetual coffee. And that's just what we were served. The menu runs to three or more pages entirely full of choices and options.

--but food's not what lunch with friends is about--it's about catching up on over 30 years' worth of lives lived, stuff we didn't know about each other. Funny how life just interferes, takes a sudden left turn, and the next thing you know, it's been five years since you saw folks who used to hang out at your house at least a couple of times a month. And then it's ten years . . . .

--along with chili and French fries, I'm rediscovering what I think of as Winter Foods: thick vegetable soup, panini (homemade), fruit cobbler/pie . . . the list goes on and on. I'm not big on hot chocolate because I can't find one I like with faux milk (soy milk has its own flavor, and I'm not crazy about rice milk or almond milk; and definitely not coconut milk). So I stick with my coffee and the occasional pot of tea.

--the last few days I've been moving summer clothes to the off-season closet and bringing out autumn/winter clothes; amazing what I already had in stock--may not even have to go shopping! I'm well-supplied with coats, scarves, and gloves, sox, sweaters, pants of various weights, sweatshirts . . . could start my own shop!

--one fun thing is finding the blankets and quilts that were stored away last April. Already they're beginning to feel good on the bed. And they look lovely.

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I've saved the best till last--I fell in love. I know, I know--that isn't a Little Thing, but actually, it was!

I went to the feed-and-seed store to buy birdseed. The people who own and operate it are a local family. That day they were dog-sitting--in a small zipped doggie bed on the floor sat a 13-week-old Shih Tzu. The woman who worked there said, "Here, you can hold her." (I think my awwww look must've told her I was smitten.) That little pup snuggled up under my chin, after giving me a few dozen puppy kisses, and I think if I'd been quick enough, I could've hidden her under my jacket, paid for my birdseed, and smuggled her out of there. But I just stood there and absorbed. The episode was so entrancing I forgot to ask her name!

So I fell in love with a Little Dog, which I said I'd never do. Never, ever. I'm a Big Dog Person. Little Dogs are too easy to step on, or get lost in my house amongst the boxes of fabric and yarn, or once they find their voices, they are too high-pitched and hurt my ears. But after that Brief Encounter--

Fortunately, the pup was already spoken for, but I have sweet memories. I do wish I'd asked what her name is.

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So today I'm celebrating the Little Stuff--the Minutae--in my life. There's always something to celebrate--something to be thankful for--something to share with someone else.

Find your Minutae--and share it!

Blessings,

Thursday's Child

 CHANGE

[We've just finished one third of the season of Autumn, and already I sense the big shift in temperatures, hours of daylight, amount of rain or sun. This time of year always finds me unsettled--not because of the weather, exactly, but because I know Autumn is progressing and will come to an end, and we'll be engulfed in Winter. I don't mean to hurry the seasons along--they seem to do quite well by themselves. If I could, I'd slow them down, so I could savor the sunny days and the few warm breezes that come my way. Yet, change is inevitable--time passes, life goes on, and everything changes. Everything.]

You can always tell when the season is shifting, because I blog about transitions and change. Here’s the latest batch—they’re all visuals because I don’t have anything new to say about change.

 C. S. Lewis, known to many as the creator of The Chronicles of Narnia, became a Christian late in life and wrote many books about faith.

Maya Angelou is known for I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, as well as for many volumes of poetry.

Rumi was a 13th-century Persian poet, jurist, Islamic scholar, theologian, and Sufi mystic.

My  story--my life--is in my hands. Staggering thought, isn't it?

One early morning gratitude--mumbled while your eyes are trying to open, before the morning jolt of caffeine, before your feet hit the floor--just one expression of thankfulness can make a difference in how your day starts, continues, and ends.

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Change is taking place in my neighborhood. In the past year, three houses have sold, two at auction, a third in a private sale. This is remarkable because the whole street--one block long--has only 13 houses. 

Of the current occupants, only three were here when I moved in 36 years ago. We don't change quickly, but when we do--wow! Look out, world!

I expect to be here several more years--probably not 36, given the age I've attained. And I've made changes to my house; more coming shortly when the guys arrive to install new faucets inside and gutters with leaf guards outside.

Since change is inevitable, you--and I--might as well try to embrace it.

Have a wonderful week!

 ARE YOU GETTING READY?

I have to say it: If you have to ask "what" you're supposed to be getting ready for, you ought to go back to bed and get up later when your brain is awake as well as your body.

Ready for what? WINTER, of course; change of season; cold weather; longer nights, shorter days (light-wise, that is). 

In case you haven't noticed, stores are carrying products to ease you into the next season--heavier clothing, including sweaters, jackets and coats, hats/gloves/mittens/scarves, padded vests. 

They're also offering the fruits of the season, namely anything that has to be cooked/baked or mixed with other foods for a filling something-or-other, like stew or chili or a big dish of mixed-up stuff like Shepherd's Pie--anything that'll stick to your ribs.

If you've noticed all that stuff, how about the home improvement aisles? Something to shut out the drafts, warm the floors, heat up a room without installing a fireplace or making you wear seven layers of clothing from the skin out just so you can sit for a while to read, knit, or watch your favorite team tear each other to shreds on the playing field. 

Then consider your vehicle--that wondrous invention that got you to the store in the first place. Are its tires good? Are they safe for another season? How about oil--need a change? Are there any leaks? Defroster working? (I told you this was about winter. Pay attention.)

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Okay! The closet is full, the pantry bulging, house is warm and snug, and the vehicle is ready to hit the road (safely).

What else is there?

Well, I hate to bring this up, but there is the matter of our attitude . . . you know, how we're going to handle the days of freezing rain, frost (or ice) buildup on the windshield of the vehicle that sits outside the garage, piled-up white stuff (called snow, remember?) that has to be shifted by a shovel attached to your gloved hands before you can back the vehicle out, because the snow plow shifted it from the street to your curbside and across the end of your driveway . . . 

[Aside--times like these, when I contemplate all the events in the previous paragraph, I envy our family and friends who either migrate to warmer climes or actually reside there. And I know envy is a sin, but dang! winter up north is a sin itself, sometimes.]

As a retiree, I have a permanent dispensation for Winter Woes--if the weather's too bad for me to be out, I cancel whatever appointment I had for that day. (Fortunately, I have very few appointments so I'm not getting a reputation as a no-show.) I've learned to give myself some space to "not do" tasks that formerly were absolutely necessary (somebody must've said they were). I've cultivated the current ways to stay in touch with family and friends so I'm never lonely or feel I'm missing out by staying home.

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While I'm awaiting the arrival of The Next Act (you know what I mean) I'll enjoy the place I'm in--some colorful trees (finally), some nice days (sun, no wind, low humidity), some moments to do abso-bloomin'-lutely nothin'. They won't last--Life does keep rolling along, you know--and then I'll be wading around in my seven layers of warmth trying to find that library book I know I didn't return yet so I can read while I drink a big, steamy, milky coffee.

And after I've had my book-and-coffee break, I can assess the tasks to be done. Maybe I'll find one that appeals to me and do that. Maybe I'll do the virtuous thing and pick the chores I like least, do those first. 

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Getting ready--the process has begun!

Blessings!

Thursday's Child

WHAT DAY IS THIS??

[A little FYI--The topic for today's post didn't come as a result of the pandemic--my sense of what day it is has long been a thorn in my side. From some comments I've heard lately, that appears to be true for other folks. If it's not your problem--good for you! You can laugh at our struggles. We won't mind.]

We had a Monday holiday this week. Not a worldwide holiday--not even a whole community holiday. In my area, the banks were closed and the Post Office was closed. That was it.

from 2015

For everybody else, it was business as usual. I took my vehicle to have its oil changed and get it winterized for the coming season. (I tried to talk the owner of my automotive center into doing something about winter itself, but he said he wasn't able to help with that.) When I told him I wouldn't need a ride home because my daughter, a Post Office employee, was off today since the PO was closed, he asked why? Since he's a history buff, I had to twit him a little about not recognizing Christopher Columbus who has a whole day to himself on our U.S. calendar.

Home Depot was also open for our convenience. We bought paint to update some outdoor stuff--mailbox, house numbers, light fixtures, plus samples to try out on interior walls for later decorating projects.

That was about it for retail therapy. My daughter started the outdoor painting projects (which she assures me are 80% prep and 20% execution). I managed a couple of small indoor tasks before lunch, which is always followed by napping.

So the day progressed. A leisurely day.

The next day was Tuesday. Felt like Monday. My daughter's colleagues at the PO kept asking each other what day it was. They agreed on "second Monday of the week."

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I write these posts on Wednesday, one of my quiet days, which means usually no appointments or other obligations. Focus is easier to maintain on a quiet day. If I have a topic in mind before Wednesday arrives, I can explore it in depth. If I have no topic in mind, my energy is put into the production of thoughts and images that might develop into a blog post. As you can imagine, having a topic ahead of time is ideal.

Sometimes thoughts and images emerge out of life in my neighborhood--new neighbors, renovation of an old house, new dog or a mama cat with her kits who hasn't been seen before. Other times my posts come from my connections to people outside my home life--medical personnel, store clerks, pharmacy staff, library folks and patrons. Or, I could be stimulated into writing about family life, arising from receiving letters from children.

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Keeping track of days--I don't find that completely baffling. A daily session with my journal helps--I start with the date, the day of the week, then the weather. By the time I'm through all that minutae, my brain has waked up and accepted this is, indeed, Wednesday. I'll probably remember that for hours. Wednesday...Wednesday...draft-a-blog-post day.

Where I get derailed is getting a few more days down the week--the one that has a second Monday, you remember--and realize the day doesn't feel like Thursday, or Friday, or . . . .

Apparently I'm not alone in this dilemma. Even normal weeks have people saying, "It doesn't feel like Thursday, I thought it was Friday all day." Uh-huh. 

If you're one of those people who never has such difficulties with the day of the week, the name of the day, what it feels like . . . you deserve some kind of award. 

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So, moving on from day of the week, I have to say I'm not thrilled with the current season of this year, 2021. I know it's autumn. My calendar assures me we're 'way past the autumnal equinox, and the beautiful photos on the October calendar pages illustrate a typical northern U.S. autumn. Around here? Nope. It's almost the middle of October, and leaf color in Northeast Indiana is spotty at best. Only one or two kinds of trees have color, and even those are stingy. 

My solution to this problem--and we autumn-lovers know it's a real problem--is to find and display as many photos of the colorful autumn trees and scenes as I can find. They're from years past, when I couldn't possibly pass by a gorgeous tree just waiting for its photo op. 

I may not spend much time outside peeping at leaves, because there aren't many beauties to peep at. But I can immerse myself in autumn beauty with pics. Maybe that's why I spend so much time looking at calendars.

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Today is Wednesday. This is October. So far, so good!

from 2014

HAPPINESS IS . . .

One of my favorite gifts from last Christmas is the Peanuts calendar from my son and daughter-in-law. Each month shows a picture defining Happiness--Charlie Brown, Snoopy, Lucy, Linus, Woodstock, Sally--sometimes in a group, sometimes alone.

Here are some highlights:

--JANUARY: HAPPINESS IS a new adventure. Perfect for the first month of a new year.

--MARCH: HAPPINESS IS a good book. That one could be on every month of my personal calendar.

--MAY: HAPPINESS IS being with friends. Where would we be without our friends?

--AUGUST: HAPPINESS IS an afternoon nap. Yesss!

--SEPTEMBER: HAPPINESS IS expressing yourself. The picture shows Snoopy painting a portrait of Woodstock. I don't do portraits, but I love to paint. (We won't talk about quality here.)

--AND THE LAST ONE, LEADING INTO 2022: HAPPINESS IS staying cozy. Snoopy is nearly invisible under a huge padded jacket.

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As I mulled over the topic for today's post, I found myself remembering what it was like being a kid, what made me happy, what I looked forward to, what seemed to me to be the epitome of being happy.

At age 6--going to school. So much great stuff to do--books to read, workbooks to fill out, drawings to color, other kids to see and hear (a one-room school was a microcosm of life for me).

At age 9--discovering writing! Putting characters we'd heard about in the book read to us by Miss Kincaid into our own story! It was like walking through a secret portal into another universe, one in which my own words made the story.

At age 12--living in a big city. (Wichita, KS was about 300K population at that time; big city by my standards.) Finding out there were other kinds of people in the world--meeting my first African Americans as students in my school. Having male teachers. And discovering art--making puppets, fashioning clay images, painting with watercolors.

At age 15--getting a chance to write for the high school newspaper; acting in one-act plays; going to high school basketball games.

After high school, everything seemed to be going faster. Life was lived on an adult plane--college students were treated like serious contenders for honors and graduation diplomas.

Happiness came with studies--though I have to admit advanced math classes made me break out in a rash; my brain wasn't ready to deal with number logic--word logic, now, that was just my style.

Adult happiness--so much depends on the person--what they grew up with, what their expectations were about life, what resources they had, or didn't have, to make dreams become reality. Like many people, I learned to adjust my dreams and expectations to fit with the resources I had or could assemble.

In my late 20s, I could find joy in rearing children; going to church; eventually returning to college to finish my education. 

Beyond that time, life didn't offer many different kinds of experiences. I did eventually work at a full-time job, which brought its own kind of happiness. I returned to writing fiction and found a writer's group of like-minded women. A short-term accompaniment job at a church became nearly full-time employment as the organist (never expected that!).

After retirement, and a rather long adjustment period in which I had to decide what I could do, what I could afford to do, and what I'd much rather do, I settled into mostly activities that called me to be creative--quilting, knitting; playing church music; watercolor painting.

Happiness is still a good book or an afternoon nap--or both! But there's always a new adventure around somewhere, waiting to be discovered. 

May you be blessed with happiness in your life!

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P.S.--If you find snatches of the "Happiness Is" song from You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown running through your mind today, do a quick search--"two kinds of ice cream" will bring up several sites, and on YouTube you can hear it sung. Enjoy! Sing along!!

  SCRAP SOUP + ONE

[In case you missed it, here's a rerun of last year's Welcome to Autumn--we're starting to notice lower temps here in late September, nighttime lows in the 40s, so soup sounds like a winner. And this year we've added a bonus recipe--corn bread to go with your soup!]

Welcome Autumn! And what better way than with a big cauldron--er, pot--of soup?

We're a Soup family--we like soup year round--we like to make it ourselves instead of buying it in a can or carton--and we absolutely love using whatever's hanging around in the fridge, freezer, or pantry that hasn't found its way into the menu yet. And this time of year, there's something or other hanging around outside in the garden--one lonely pepper, a couple of ripe tomatoes, a couple of green beans that somehow didn't get picked . . . just waiting to be part of your next soup pot.

I've borrowed the name of today's soup from a Pacific Northwest quilter, Anne Moscicki, who included her version of Scrap Soup in a book about organizing a retreat for quilters--the event was to take place over a weekend, and each quilter who attended brought something for the pot of soup. (The book, Time to Quilt, also includes instructions for some of the most beautiful quilts I've ever seen and made. Thanks, Anne!)

Here's my version of Scrap Soup--based entirely on what's on hand at the moment in my fridge, freezer, and pantry.

SCRAP SOUP

General Ingredients: 

--meat or poultry--we're partial to chicken, especially the remains of a roasted chicken that's come out of the oven so tender it nearly melts in the mouth. You can use leftover turkey, beef (leftover roast, if there is such a thing, or ground), or a combination of venison and pork (ground together and browned). The choice is dictated by whatever your crew likes.

--vegetables--fresh, frozen, or canned; use up little bits of leftovers (if you save them, some people don't); if you have only one potato or parsnip or turnip, use that. If you like the taste of celery and onion and/or peppers, but don't fancy chopping up a bunch of the same, look for these combos in the frozen food department of your supermarket. Some brands call them "mirepoix," which sounds quite elegant and exotic.

--other solids--canned (cooked) beans add body and protein. Practically anything goes--white beans, black beans, red beans; chili beans, chickpeas

--broth or other liquid--we use chicken stock made from the bones of the aforesaid roasted chicken, but this is another boxed item that can save you time and stove top space. If you prefer, select the vegetable broth flavor. Then there's the option of canned broth or bouillon cubes to be reconstituted; and I think there are some packaged soup starters, in envelopes that look like gravy mixes. Once you find what you like, get that in quantity. You never know when soup time will strike. Other liquids include tomato juice and V-8 Juice.

--thickeners--if you're so inclined, add rice (white or brown), or noodles (rice noodles disintegrate nicely and thicken the liquid), or let the potatoes do their job.

--seasonings--my current combo is very simple: salt and coarse-ground black pepper, bay leaf, dried thyme. One bay leaf per recipe--break it in half so the flavor travels through the whole pot of soup. Also--some canned tomatoes come with herbs, so they'll add to the overall bouquet.

That's it for ingredients.

How much to use:

I like to nearly fill a 5-quart slow cooker.

Start with 1/2 gallon of broth or stock.

Add the cooked meat/poultry of your choice. Add diced veggies, like Mirepoix.

Let that much heat through while you do some of the following:

--chop cooked veggies from the fridge

--partially cook frozen veg (microwave or stove top, for half the time allowed)

--partially cook fresh veg, like potatoes, by dicing and microwaving a few minutes

--open canned veg you might want to add; note: if they're packed in water or juice, decide if you're going to use that liquid--if so, don't add any further liquid to the pot or you'll overflow the cooker.

Add veg to the pot, along with any other solids. Stir. Make sure there's enough room in the cooker.

Stir in the seasonings. Put on the lid. Set the temp to HIGH. Don't lift the lid for at least two hours. When you begin to notice the heady seasoned aroma of the herbs, check the cooker. (As a reminder--the cooker needs 20 minutes to recover its total heat if you lift the lid, even for a brief inspection. Just a thought.) You can reduce the setting to MEDIUM or LOW if you're going to leave the cooker to work all day.

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You probably think this is too much trouble--but once you've figured out your personal preferences, making soup from scratch is one of the quickest things you'll ever do. The main thing to remember is this: After the soup is on its own and cooking, you can go off and do other stuff. Clean the garage. Have a bubble bath. Watch a movie or TV episode you missed the other night. Bake cornbread to accompany the soup. Or bake brownies for dessert. Go shopping with a buddy. Check email. Tell your friends on Facebook you made soup.

If you can't think of anything to do while the soup is doing its thing, then I don't know what to tell you. Try calling a friend for advice. That almost always works.

BONUS RECIPE - Corn Bread or Muffins

   (from Woman's Home Companion Cook Book, 1947)

Sift 1 c. flour, then measure.

Add: 3 1/2 tsp. baking powder, 1 tsp. salt, 3 Tbsp. sugar, and 1 c. yellow corn meal. Mix well.

Combine: 1 egg, slightly beaten, 1 c. milk, and 1/4 c. melted shortening (oil works also)

Stir liquids into dry ingredients until all dry ingredients are moistened. Turn into a greased 8x8-inch baking pan. Bake at 425 degrees about 20 minutes.

[Note: if the pan is dark, lower oven temp. 25 degrees.]

If you prefer muffins, spoon the batter into 12 greased muffin cups. Bake 12-15 minutes.

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Celebrate Autumn! It's a beautiful time, whatever is going on out in the world. Making soup honors the garden's bounty and feeds our bodies. 

 WELCOME AUTUMN!

[Not much new to say about the Equinox that ushers in the season we call Autumn. And from one year to the next, we'll usually find ourselves meeting the same colors, the same fresh fruit, the same autumn flowers, the same weather. So here's one of my love songs to Autumn published several years ago.]

Autumn in my little corner of the kingdom is a Janus-like season. Remember Janus? The Roman God of gates and doorways doorways--one face toward each direction.

Autumn is like that for me--looking forward, looking back.

One day, it's summer, and you'd swear August's picture is still on the wall calendar. The next morning, the leaves whip around wildly, skies are overcast (if not weeping buckets), and you wonder which closet you buried your rainproof jacket and umbrella in.

While the weather is doing its two-faced thing, I veer back and forth between two ways of thinking about life. 

Ahead of us is a season many people dread--Winter, with its more-than-generous servings of snow and ice, wind chills, and dangerous roads/driveways/sidewalks. In its nature, Winter is probably no more dangerous than other seasons, if we take precautions for our safety. But it's well to be prepared.

Behind us is summer (my least favorite season, as I believe I've said before)--a season many folks would love to see hang around a minimum of 200 days per year; the other 165 could be a little cooler, maybe a little rainy, but definitely not below 50 degrees. I prefer variety in my seasons.

But that's just weather. What about what's ahead of us in our lives? What changes will there be in my family? In my health? My town? My church? My friends? 

My grandchildren are young enough to be changing jobs, moving to bigger houses, looking for the best schools for their children. My children are more settled, but still open to new opportunities. My health is currently stable, so I keep on with my exercise programs to maintain the status quo. My town--well, they call it progress, I call it chaos: closed streets, tree removal. . . . My church constantly searches for ways, and people, to serve. My friends are going through their own challenges with health and other problems. 


What's behind me in my life is there for me to see in old photos, read in old letters I've saved, recall with my children in our telephone/email conversations. Some of the memories are smile-bringers--remembering a time and place and the people involved in a birthday party or a Christmas family celebration. Some memories bring sadness--folks no longer with us, relatives and friends lost to time and death.

But I count my memories as blessings--yes, including those memories I'd rather take out to the landfill and bury deep. Without who I was, I wouldn't be who I am today. Neither would you who are reading this post. There's always the possibility that we'll learn from our past mistakes, pass along some wisp of wisdom to a family member or friend, perhaps to a stranger.

My goal--my challenge to myself--is to dwell in the present. See the good around me. Help folks who need a boost, a kind word, a warm blanket. The past is past--I can learn from what's gone before. The future is not yet here--I can plan and prepare, but I can't live it until it arrives.

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In a few days I'll celebrate Autumn's arrival with a drive through the country. Not much color yet in our area, but it's coming, it's coming.

Welcome Autumn your way--football games, tailgate parties; trips to the orchard for cider and apples; stocking up on pumpkins and corn shocks for the October look.

And while you're at it, celebrate being alive. Today.