Archive for the ‘A Day In the Life Of An Okie’ Category





Making New Friends

Thursday, July 7th, 2011





Making New Friends




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Today, I did something out of the ordinary and it really made life fun and interesting! I met someone with whom I had only spoken online!! On the Mary Jane Butters’ forums, women from across the world talk Farmgirl talk and share ideas, recipes, sorrows and joys. It is a wonderful community of wonderful women.


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And so, another Oklahoma Farmgirl, through the forums, connected with me and we finally decided to meet. The Inspirations Tea Room, in Edmond, Oklahoma, seemed the perfect place to do that. It is a step back into the quieter and more genteel days of the Victorian age where one is pampered to the max. Fresh strawberry/banana scones, drizzled in a glaze icing alongside creamy, lemon curd started the meal, followed by our choices of hot tea and a meal fit for a queen.


We learned so much about each other and found that we have tons in common. And we are both still old Girl Scouts at heart! All in all, it was a wonderful lunch and time spent together. I now have a new friend and look forward to more time spent in Farmgirl pursuits! Thanks for a neat day, Marsha! I’m humming that old Girl Scout song:

♪♪ Make new friends
But keep the old –
One is silver and the other gold ♪♪



Happy Friday!



MB
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Dealing With Vandals

Wednesday, June 29th, 2011





Vandals 0 – Mailbox 10




I can just imagine…….Four burly young men crowded into the shiny, extended cab pickup – a gift from Mom and Dad to the driver. Across the lap of the young man closest to the open window stretches a three foot long metal bar. It is round and solid and heavy. All four men wrap fingers around tall, cold cans of beer nursing the drinks during conversation. Each has already put away a couple of cans prior to entering their joy wagon. A little tipsy, their idea of fun becomes more reckless by the minute.


The engine roars and the driver puts the big truck into gear, backs onto the main road and heads to a thoroughfare picked at random. Laughing and joking, these scoundrels size up the row of mailboxes dotting the long road and rev the engine. Mr. Window Seater pokes the metal pole out of the window and yells, “Charge!!!” The driver spins the tires of his truck and peels out in a burst of gasoline energy. “Clang!” goes the first mailbox as the side caves in from the force of the metal iron. “Ka-thud” goes the second as it is totally torn off its post, hitting the ground and rolling into the ditch. “Ka-Whap” goes the third mailbox as it is mashed flat and the door is torn off its hinges.


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And then they see the Oklahoma Pastry Cloth™ Company mail recepticle. It’s a little bit larger than the ones previously creamed – a perfectly shaped, white, metal object that appears to have never been touched by previous marauders and will surely ring with a glorious sound when smashed with a three foot metal rod. The mailbox’s pristine color and smooth shape is just begging to be attacked. Mr. Driver stops to drink in the picture and savor the moment. Foot on the gas pedal, he presses it all the way to the floor. Mr. Window Seater extends his body out of the window and aims for the mailbox.


The metal pole makes contact at 60 mph. But something is wrong. A shudder reverberates up the pole, into the hands and arms of the bearer and all the way down to his feet. His teeth rattle. His brain shakes. And he lets out a howl of pain. The metal instrument of destruction flies out of his hands and bounces across the landscape. All of the inhabitants of the truck look back in astonishment as their weapon disappears and the mailbox still stands, unscathed. Suddenly, their alcohol befuddled minds take on a slight sense of reality and they speed off into the distance, headed for home and an ice pack/aspirin for Mr. Window Seater.


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They always seem to hit it in the same place!



And the large, white mailbox stands resolute and firm, a tiny, imperceptible dent beside previous imperceptible dents, near the door, and a small chip and crack in the solid CONCRETE within. Mr. Window Seater is no match for Mr. Fix-It.


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You see, Mr. Fix-It took a larger metal mail box and put a smaller rubber mailbox inside, floating the smaller box on small blocks of wood to leave an equal amount of space around the rubber mailbox. He then mixed concrete and poured that around the perimeter of the rubber box, leaving almost a 1″ ring of concrete between the two boxes. When dried, he bolted his new concoction onto a braced wooden post that he had sunk into concrete as well. It’s heavy, but it’s tough!!


Happy Mailing!



MB
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WEEDS!!!

Saturday, June 25th, 2011





No More June Trips!




I say this every year. I vow that I will go nowhere during gardening season. And then…invariably something comes up that requires travel and I come back to a garden disaster. Such was the case with this last business/pleasure trip of two weeks. Two weeks! Would you like to know what weeds do to a garden in two weeks when the gardeners are away?! They say, “Yay!!” and promptly make themselves at home. Mr. Fix-It and I have spent two nights in the strawberry bed trying to find our plants. The picture is of what we have accomplished so far and of what is left to do. See if you can find any strawberry plants in that jungle of grass! Mr. Fix-It very wisely soaks the ground and then we pull while wading in the mud. Makes for easier pulling. A mud pie fight may commence tonight!!


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Happy Gardening??



MB
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Summer Treat

Monday, June 20th, 2011





Fathers Do Too Cook!!



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My dad loves to cook


Continuing on my journey, I’ve moved from the red clay of Georgia to the Smoky Mountains of Tennessee. Oh my. How beautiful they are. It kinda gives the ol’ gut a wrench when I take in those cloud-covered peaks, old and worn, green and inviting. These are my old stomping grounds, but now I’m a ‘flatlander’. It’s ok, though. I don’t have to deal with this traffic out in the plains of Okie land!!!


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Heavy cloud cover gives the Smoky Mountains their name

I am staying in the mountain guest home of a wonderful family neighbor who has been so gracious to open their doors. I’ll be heading back to the Great Plains with pots of spearmint and pineapple sage from Brennan’s garden. I figure they will be great additions to homemade soaps.


It is Father’s Day and I got to spend it with my dad (and Mom!). 850 miles is too much distance for sure, but I made it! Sunday worship at my folks’ church, a wonderful meal at a Japanese restaurant and an afternoon just sitting around and making memories completed the day. You see, my dad is all about making memories and when my family gets together we share those memories with lots of humor. My dad is an amazing cook and many of those memories have a backdrop of meals that he prepared.


One of my memories is of Sunday summer nights, after “Training Union” and the Sunday night service at church, with the six of us – parents and four daughters – elbow-to-elbow around the table, munching on a fruit plate of watermelon, canaloupe, fresh cherries, oranges, peaches or nectarines, pineapple and grapes with maybe some cheeses and most definitely with orange or pineapple sherbert. That was supper! We thought it was wonderful. Dad and Mom worked side-by-side to put together a pretty arrangement of goodies for all of us. And so, tonight, when I caught my father, at 84, putting together a similar concoction for our Sunday night dinner, I decided to grab it in pictures, his hands still deftly slicing fruits in a labor of love.


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Bananas, oranges, grapefruit and pineapple went into a bowl


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Crunchy Red Delicious apples were added


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Red grapes added more color


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A dollop of smooth and creamy vanilla yogurt and a plate of Oatmeal Cranberry Walnut cookies (Mom’s version of my Georgia aunt’s ‘rock’ cookies) made for a healthy meal of fruits, whole grains, and protein. Yep. We know how to live! And memories have been made afresh.


Oatmeal Cranberry Nut Cookies

Oven: 375 degrees 10 – 15 minutes

  • 1 cup shortening
  • 2 cups brown sugar
  • 2 eggs
  • 1/3 cup sour cream (may substitute 1/3 cup evaporated milk + 1 tsp vinegar)
  • 2 tsps cinnamon
  • 1 tsp nutmeg
  • 1 tsp soda
  • 1/2 tsp salt
  • 3 cups sifted flour
  • 1 tsp vanilla extract
  • 1 cup slivered almonds or chopped English walnuts
  • 1 cup dried, sweetened cranberries like Craisins
  • 1 cup rolled oats
  • Cream shortening and brown sugar. Add eggs and beat well for 2 minutes. Combine dry ingredients. Then alternate with sour cream and add to creamed mixture. Add vanilla extract. Add raisins, oats and nuts and mix with spoon. Drop by teaspoon on cookie sheet. Bake in 375 degree oven 10 minutes for soft cookies and 12 to 15 minutes for “rocks” if you like crunchy cookies. Remove from pan to cooling racks immediately.

    Happy Family Time!



    MB
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    Processing Onions for Long-term Storage

    Monday, June 13th, 2011





    The Tears I Shed




    I love onions. Such a mundane little vegetable – but it has such a pleasant shape and flavor, especially the Vidalia variety. Georgia has a right to be proud of that little onion. There is no onion sweeter and you can eat it like an apple – if you like onion flavored apples, I guess! Personally, I think the onion is a necessity in cooking because it makes all the difference in the world…well…second only to tons of garlic. I bet you’d love to have an up close and personal conversation with us at the OPC™ digs, eh?


    Onions are one of the simplest veggies to put in a garden. Cheap too! A bundle of onions costs around $1.50 to $4 and offers you anywhere from 50 to 100 sets. I usually put out two or three bundles. Row furrows are dug, fertilizer is sprinkled down the center of the furrows and then chopped in and covered to make a raised row. I plant my onions using a stick in one hand to make a hole and then dropping an onion set with the other hand. I then go back and pull the dirt up around each set using both hands (yes, I wear gardening gloves) which also straightens the onions to standing. In my neck of the woods, I have to plant them deeper than usual because our soil is a sandy loam and dries out really fast in our stiff winds. Once the onions are established, I pull the dirt away from them to expose the top of the bulb. Turning the soil between rows can be done by using a hoe, a mantis or a tiller or mulch can be used as well. This year, we had a dickens of a time keeping a really weird grass in check. Hand weeding around each bulb was a not fun necessity, but this has been an unusual year. The only other maintenance that we perform on our growing onions is pinching off any seed heads if they form and a side dress of 10/20/10 fertilizer every three weeks if there has been much rain. Otherwse, a series of soaker hoses does the trick.


    The nice thing about onions is that you can pick them at any stage of the game. Small onions are great for salads and garnish as ‘green onions’. Medium sized onions are wonderful to throw in with green beans or pintos or they can be left to expand to slicing size.


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    At the later stage of growth, onions have the soil pulled away from the bulb to allow the bulb free room to grow.


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    Eventually, the green tops start to fall over.


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    After the tops fall over, the onions are left for about two weeks before pulling.


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    Onions are easy to pull out of the ground.


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    We use 5 gallon buckets to gather our onions. Makes for easy carrying.


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    I wash my onions a few at a time in a big stainless tub/bowl or in another large bucket. After cutting off green tops no closer than 1 1/2″ from the bulb, I submerge the bulbs in water and use my hand to wash them back and forth.


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    I separate out sizes of bulbs and freeze the smallest ones for seasoning beans, etc. or cut them up for dehydrating. These I prepare, after washing, by removing the roots, the stem and the outer skin.


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    The medium to large ones are left whole to cure on racks for use as fresh onions. The roots and the stem will dry up and will be clipped. These onions will stay fresh until as long as November or December, stored in a cool dark place.


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    The largest are sliced and frozen on cookie sheets covered with wax paper and will be put into freezer bags. These will be used for homemade onion rings, for cooking on the grill and for use in casseroles.


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    Onions for dehydrating are chopped by hand because the food processor makes the pieces too small. The chopped onion is spead out on dehydrator racks. I start the process outside because the smell is overpowering and keeps you from crying. 🙂 After about 6 hours, I move the dehydrator inside.


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    After drying about 15 to 18 hours, depending on the moisture content, these onions are packaged into jars. Here, I have dried some of both our yellow and white onions. Storage for these dried onions is years. They are wonderful for using in soups and stews but you can also use them in chicken or tuna salad or for seasoning a cooking hamburger by putting a tablespoon or two into a bowl, covering with water and then placing into the frig overnight. You will have rehydrated onions to use like fresh! That is actually what some restaurants do.


    Happy Gardening!



    MB
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    And He Said It Was Good

    Thursday, June 9th, 2011





    God’s Artwork In Photos



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    Way back when I was in college – back when those guys with the triangle hats were signing our country’s documents – I was part of the ‘art scene’ on campus. Though I started out in mini-skirts and knee socks with clunky shoes topped with shiny buckles (ok – so it was the ’70’s; we just thought it was 1776), I quickly understood that there was a reason why art students ‘grunged out’. Good clothes didn’t last too long in a welding bay, a bronze and aluminum foundry, a painting or ceramic studio or a woodworking shop. Overalls and t-shirts became my wardrobe of choice and if I had donned a headband, beads and sandles, I would have fit the part perfectly. As it was, lowly overalls was as grunge as I was willing to stoop.


    My major was painting and my minor was sculpture and everywhere around me was color. I memorized color wheels, color schemes, color theory and color mixing and learned to use color in everything from a brush stroke to convincing the public to buy a soft drink, through commercial art. The study of light and color was fascinating.


    I honestly do not know how anyone who has studied the world around them, through the discipline of the visual arts, can doubt that there is an artist who is so much greater than they. To attempt to put something on canvas, one must take it down to its tiniest attribute and then build up to the whole. The sheer complexity of a blade of grass is incredible. It isn’t just a streak of green – it is a series of hundreds of greens, yellows, browns and even reds and blues, creeping through lights and darks and crevices and shadows. If a painter can reproduce that image onto a canvas, imagine the sculptor who created it for real!


    I’ve been playing with my camera and taking photos of some of those creations that show off God’s great palette of color, found in the fields and in our flower gardens. He understands the idea of complimentary color and monochromatic color because…oh yes…He made those too! And He created this land we call Oklahoma that is a mixture of hills and prairie that most Okies call “God’s Country”, where so many colorful florals can be found. I hope you enjoy the photos and that they give you a moment to just smile and relax.


    In The Pasture



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    In The Garden



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    Happy Flower Gardening!



    MB
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    Summer Sandwich

    Wednesday, June 1st, 2011





    Chicken and Cheese

    Panini

    It’s been really hot today. A wet blanket over a sweat lodge couldn’t be any heavier than this afternoon’s humidity. I really didn’t want to heat up the kitchen too much and when it gets hot, we kinda lose our appetite. Sandwiches sounded good to me, but Mr. Fix-It likes something a little more substantial. So, I put my brain in gear and started assessing my alternatives.


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    I got four chicken tenders out of the freezer and let them thaw just until I was able to cut them. Then I placed each tender on its side and sliced it almost in half, butterflying it.


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    I sprinkled evenly over both sides of the butterflies, thyme, garlic powder, paprika, salt and pepper


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    Finally, I sprinkled a total of a teaspoon of sugar over the four tenders


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    In a skillet, I browned the chicken in 1/2 tablespoon of butter and 1/2 tablespoon of olive oil


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    I turned the pieces and browned them on the other side


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    Four slices of homemade whole wheat sandwich bread would be my sandwich base


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    I sprayed one side of each slice with olive oil


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    I got this grill at WalMart several years ago on clearance. It’s a pretty good sized grill. It isn’t the George Foreman brand but works just as well. I melted a tablespoon of butter on the bottom grill and then used a brush to brush it over both surfaces.


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    First, I put two slices of bread, olive oil side down, onto the grill and put two of the butterflied chicken tenders on each slice. I used provolone cheese here, but asiago is good, as is swiss or sharp cheddar.


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    Then I put our favorite spreads on the other slice of bread (olive oil side out). Here, Mr. Fix-It reqested my hot sauce which is 1 part Chinese Chili sauce to 2 parts mayo. I mixed my own spread using 1 tablespoon of mayo with 1 tablespoon of Marzetti Italian with Blue Cheese Crumbles. Yum! The spreads went onto the slices of bread which were then placed on top of the rest of the sandwich. The grill was closed tightly and the sandwiches were cooked until they were nice and crispy on the outside.


    I took them off the grill and added fresh lettuce out of the garden and fresh onions out of the garden. We haven’t got tomatoes yet, so we had to do without (can’t stomach the store bought ones) and with homemade pickles added, it was super!!


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    It was tasty, yessir!! We Okies do know how to make the most out of a hot evening!



    Happy Cooking!



    MB
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    Fighting My Dragon

    Thursday, May 26th, 2011





    A Root Canal Has

    Nothing To Do With

    Panama



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    I know. Everyone says, “I hate going to the dentist.” But not everyone says it in the screaming, overemphasized, “I HATE GOING TO THE DENTIST!!!!” way that I say it. Most people, though they are uncomfortable with instruments, drills and hands in their mouths, suck it up, grit those teeth on their good side and stoically march to the dental chair with the air of one heading to an execution. I, however, hold each side of the doorway moulding with fingers of steel, while wedging my feet at each corner of the bottom of the door frame and dare anyone to push or pull me through. There is no screaming. There is no crying. There is just a resolute, “uh-uh – not gonna do it.”


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    I believe the beginning of this abnormal relationship with dentistry began when I was six years old. It was at that time I determined, with what little deductive reasoning a first grader may possess, that [parents = gift after dentist = pain → parents = good such that dentists = mean]. My first journey into this equation involved the fact that my baby teeth were falling out in God’s time and not Man’s time. Because Man’s time is the guage most depended upon by the medical community, it was decided that a few of my teeth had to go, in order to make room for those adult teeth which God’s time had not even produced yet. That encounter gleaned me a small, shiny, red bike with training wheels. A few years later, my final “dental trip-equals-gift” experience also included removing baby teeth but I had progressed to the fourth grade and wasn’t so easy to bribe. I had graduated to a full meal at my favorite McDonald’s Hamburger restaurant and the movie, FLIPPER, on the big screen. It was later that I realized that my parents and my dentist were in cahoots and I no longer cut my parents any slack.


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    In the summer after eighth grade – at that awkward age of 14 – my parents took me to a dentist who then sent me to an orthodontist. I had no clue what that was, but because the dentist didn’t do anything to me except clean my teeth, I figured this new kind of doctor couldn’t be all bad. The orthodontist ‘ummed’ and ‘ohhhed’ as he pulled my cheeks back, pushed my gums and tapped different teeth. My parents tried to squash the tendency to lean over to look at what he was observing. Finally, the awful verdict was issued and my parents checked me into a hospital to have MORE teeth extracted and wires put under my gums around hidden canines with a prognosis of 5 years in braces. My parents let me start high school, the angst of every budding teen, with stitches in my gums, unable to smile and with lips the size of a cartoon character. Several weeks later came the inevitable ‘railroad tracks’ which then became my nickname. And to make matters worse, there was no prize, no gift, no bribe to lift my self-esteem. Evidently, I had “grown up”.


    To add to my misery, I had to stretch tiny little rubber bands from a metal hook attached to the wire under my gum on each side of my upper mouth to a metal hook on a band around a bottom molar on each side of my lower jaw. These rubber bands were no bigger around than the end of a large pencil and so the pressure on them was enormous. Teachers and friends alike had to pay attention where they were standing in proximity to my face because when I spoke, it was not unusual for my mouth to shoot a rubber band with the accuracy of a slingshot. “Humiliation” became a new variable in dentistry for me. I wore those braces through my first year in college and today, as a result of all that effort and humiliation and thousands of dollars, I can smile with a mouthful of fewer teeth, visible canines and pearly-not-so-whites that look like a row of dominoes after a minor earthquake.


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    Then came the extraction of four wisdom teeth which also had to be done in the hospital because it was in the stone-age, also known as the ‘70’s. The young man who was next in line for surgery, lying on his gurney outside the surgery room door, could hear the surgeon grunting and yelling because my mouth was so small and my teeth were so big. That evening, this same young man came to my room to see how I was doing (and to brag that he was getting a steak from Steak and Ale), only to find me with a swollen face, bruised cheeks, mouth split at each corner and begging for morphine. Two dry sockets later, I vowed that dentistry was akin to torture. My disgust for all things dentist was established for life.


    Fast forward to last week. I had broken a tooth – I’m talkin’ 2/3 of that sucker was gone. I wasn’t crazy about our family dentist office and I figured it was time for a change. So, I found a new dentist, in the Yellow Pages, whose sole attraction was the words, “Comfortable and Stress-Free.” Comfortable and Stress-Free is good! And they really are gentle at OKC Smiles in Oklahoma City. I loved the office workers. Those people were so nice and they made great effort to make me feel comfortable and welcome. I got my teeth cleaned without the usual bleeding gums, swollen cheeks and uncomfortable throb throughout the next day. I was not the least bit perturbed about this dentist working on my teeth because the atmosphere was so relaxing. That is, until I was informed that the broken tooth would involve a root canal.


    A root canal? I had heard of those things and nothing about them had been good. In fact, I had heard horror stories about them and so, when my new dentist friend informed me that he does “sedation dentistry” my answer to his question of , “Do you want to be sedated?” was, “How stupid do I look? Ok, don’t answer that question. Yes.” I was given a little blue pill and sent home with directions to take it one hour prior to my next appointment. Oh yes, and Mr. Fix-It was to be my designated driver.


    On the day of my major surgery – ok, so when it comes to dental work, I like to exaggerate – Mr. Fix-It and I headed out the door to drive the nearly hour it takes to get to my new dentist. I had taken the pill and was happily waiting for it to kick in. Halfway to the office, Mr. Fix-It realized that he didn’t know where he was going and turned to ask me directions. My chin was slumped against my chest. I was snoring. He managed to wake me to get spotty information and attempted to find the dental clinic. He was smart – or just lucky, but he found it and helped me out of the car. I did not hold to the door frame or refuse to enter, but obediently shuffled into the plush waiting room to sit down with Mr. Fix-It at my side. From that point on, all I have is Mr. Fix-It’s version of the story.


    According to him, my head lolled downward and to the side when, all of a sudden, I hiccupped. I didn’t just do a little hiccup. I let loose with a high-pitched, body-wrenching, air-gulping hiccup and my head flew backwards. My chin then dropped back down onto my chest and I hiccupped again, going through the same motions of head pitching backward and then slumping forward. This continued as my dear husband, who is supposed to be my advocate and protector, could not contain himself and exploded into gales of laughter. Another patient, a man, entered the waiting area and sat down across from us just as I let loose with another jarring hiccup. He looked embarrassed for me and Mr. Fix-It said, “She’s sedated. She gets these hiccups sometimes.” I let loose with a big one. Mr. Fix-It giggled loudly.


    Thankfully, the nurse ushered me to the dental chair and got the hiccups stopped. My kindly dentist did his work, determining that I did not need a root canal after all. Tooth temporarily capped, I was carefully monitored for blood pressure and heart rate and the hiccups commenced again. Mr. Fix-It assured me that they reverberated throughout the entire building. I am wondering what the office personnel are saying about that day. Do they have conversations that begin with, “Did you hear that lady….?” or “Was that hilarious or what?!” I have to go back to have the permanent cap affixed. I am not sure I can show my face.


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    All I know is that dentists and I have a very strained relationship. However, I think that if this new one will still have me, I will stay in his care because I have to admit that my experience there has been the most pleasant of any. I will say, though, I don’t think I’ll be taking any of those little blue pills again. As I told Mr. Fix-It, while still in an inebriated state, I think, next time, I’ll take some of that “Noxious Oxide” instead. Somehow, I have a feeling that my inserting “noxious” for “nitrous” is a harbinger of things to come.


    Happy Flossing!



    MB
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    Tornado Alley

    Wednesday, May 25th, 2011





    Another Difficult Day





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    I had planned on doing a funny post today, but somehow it doesn’t seem like today is a good day to laugh. Many people in Oklahoma are hurting after a day of tragedy and devastation yesterday. Lives and property were lost and people have been left with nothing but the clothes on their backs. My cousin in Joplin, Missouri is in that very situation as well. Oklahoma and Missouri are certainly stunned over the past few days of tornadic events.


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    Be sure and go online to find the various organizations which are gathering up items and money for the victims of the tornadoes of late. Two organizations that are already on site are the American Red Cross
    and
    The Salvation Army



    Tornado near the OPC™ digs from Ben Holcomb



    If you feel led, please give what you can to help out. And pray. These are our neighbors and fellow Americans. We help each other. That’s what America is about.


    I’ll save the humor for tomorrow.


    Thank you for praying



    MB
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    The Good Ol’ Days

    Monday, May 16th, 2011





    The Good Ol’ Days




    On Saturday, I got to play and work all at the same time. Mr. Fix-It and I made a lovely trip down to Tishomingo, Oklahoma – my old stomping grounds – and participated in the first annual “Back To The Good Ol’ Days” festival, sponsored by the Johnston County Historical Society. Held inside and outside what was the original Chickasaw Territorial bank in Tishomingo, the ambiance was perfect. All of us were dressed in period costumes and the purpose was to educate visitors in the ways of life in the early to mid 1900’s. I donned a bonnet and floor-length dress and apron and demonstrated grinding grains and rolling oats, as well as – of course – the Oklahoma Pastry Cloth™. The oat rolling was the favorite of the many children who strolled through. They bent down to look under my stainless steel wonder to watch the oat groats go from kernel to flat oatmeal. They had no idea that the oatmeal they ate in the morning didn’t come already smashed right off the farm. I had more than one adult who was equally impressed!

    To my right was Nina, who demonstrated sewing on a gorgeous old black, Featherweight Singer sewing machine, and on my left was Ada, who kept a crowd of children around her as she let them embroider their own projects. Opposite me was Tammy, who was cheerfully making Raggedy Ann and Andy dolls. Outside of the bank building was a demonstration of old timey laundry days, complete with washtub and board, clothesline, wooden ironing board and heavy metal iron. Handmade Indian flutes and stickball raquets, as well as various antique household items, occupied several booths and best of all, there was a game center with the games of yesteryear. Jacks, checkers, pickupsticks and paperdolls were available for quieter play, while marbles and hopscotch provided livelier entertainment for the young and young at heart. Visitors even voted for their favorite candidates by filling out a ballot designed just like the original Johnston County paper ballots. They dropped these into an original metal “ballot box” made secure by a padlock. Candidates included Sleezy Joe McGough for County Clerk, Gene Deadeye Smith for Sherriff and Hang ‘m High L. Taylor for judge. The aroma of pinto beans and cornbread permeated the air and at noon, for $5, visitors were served a bowl of beans, a corn muffin, old fashioned chocolate gravy cake with chocolate/nut icing and a glass of tea.

    My heartiest laugh came from a couple who stopped to watch my demonstration and who shared just the funniest story. Leroy and Rosalie Ussery stopped by my table and Leroy explained, as he watched my grain grinder in action, that he and his wife had grown wheat. He said that at the time, their son was in the second grade and as is the case with most second grades, Show-And-Tell was an important part of class each week. The Ussery’s son was eager to show his classmates all about the wheat that his family raised, combined and sold and so he took a sheaf of the grain to school. When his very young teacher saw the stems bending over with the grain heads, she was excited that her class of children would get to see the true origin of one of their foods. She completely took over the son’s Show-And-Tell moment and began explaining to the children that the flour used to make their biscuits, pancakes, etc came from the grains encased in the heads at the end of the stalks. She carefully removed a few of the grains and said, “Now watch” and started peeling back the husk around the grain. She told the children that when she squeezed opened the grain kernel, flour would fall out. The kids watched expectantly for puffs of flour to escape as she attempted to open several kernels with no luck. She finally said, “Oh. This wheat must not be ripe yet.” Mr. Ussery’s son was very distressed over the incredible misinformation given by the teacher but when his father asked what he had said to the class and the teacher, he replied, “Oh!! Nothing, Dad” Mr. Ussery encouraged, “Good call!” Yep, it isn’t healthy to make your teacher look stupid!!

    Here are a few pictures from the day.


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    The focal point of Tishomingo, Oklahoma is the beautiful and restored Capitol building of the Chickasaw Nation. Tishomingo is considered the capitol city for the Chickasaws.



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    Down the street is the historic Chickasaw Bank building, now the home of the Johnston County Historical Society and Chamber of Commerce. Different examples of early American living in Oklahoma were set up along the sidewalk in front of the bank.



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    The bank has been kept in its original layout, including the counter where people placed their deposits and withdrawals in early, pre-state Oklahoma.



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    An old rolltop desk sits in the corner



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    The ceilings are gorgeous



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    A beautiful staircase leads to more exhibits upstairs



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    There are many exhibits donated by locals



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    Women, in costume, prepared the table of silent auction items to raise money for the Historical Society



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    Learning to roll the hoop


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    A game of checkers


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    Wash Day!


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    Blowing bubbles through wooden spools using soapy water


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    Pickup Sticks!



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    Hopscotch and stilts



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    I demonstrated rolling oats and grinding grains. The stone grinder is in the background



    It was a cool day and just perfect for an educational Saturday. As I was leaving, I overheard some of the society members talking about next year! If you are in Oklahoma, take time to visit this great town and friendly people!


    Happy Reminiscing!



    MB
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