Almost ready to move the furniture back into the living room after having the paneling, bookshelves and window frames painted

Washed all the windows, inside and out, plus the screens, washed down the ancient bricks, the hearth and the old screen that I--in an earlier year--sprayed with gold paint.

The book shelves are empty, but each day, I go through a box and decide which ones to keep; which ones to give away. The first day, I culled 8. Took the sack outside to write a poem about the effort, and ended up keeping half of them: 2 for my journalist son, and two for future gifts.

Today, I gave up  2 and kept 11. Perhaps by Saturday, either they'll all be back, dusted and loved, or in large sacks, also dusted and given away, for the library.

Billy helped get the push pins and silver star stick-ons down from above the window.

This also shows the unpainted, built-in shelves and the paneling from the 1970s. Jeff did a thorough job of Kilzing, priming and painting. The white color has a pink tinge to enhance the pinks and maroons of the sofas and mantel decorations. The name of the paint is Cultured Pearls.

The light-switch plate (paneling colored) must be replaced ASAP.

What's done is done and I'm poorer on the financial side right now, but richer for the enjoyment, enhancement, pride in a job done well by B.B., Inc. (ceiling) and Jeff (painting). Thank goodness for good workmen and women.

c 2018, PL dba lovepat press, Benton AR USA

Living in cramped quarters for a spell—for a good reason

                                        Dogwood blooms open late in Eureka Springs - PL

No, we didn’t go camping and sleep in a tent, eat on a picnic table, use nearby shower facilities. Nor were we relegated to the bedrooms, bathroom, and hall as when a crew refreshed the hardwood floors in June a few years back. Access to that area was by climbing or crawling into a bedroom window. This time, we could get in the house via the side and back doors.

The living room ceiling of vintage, textured plaster was being torn out because a large chunk of it had fallen many years ago, and there was a crack that would eventually succumb to gravity. After all, it was 84-year-old material. After the chunk fell, and before our California in-law came to visit sometime during the ‘70s, Dad attached 1 x 4s to the rectangular ceiling, then stapled acoustic tile to the boards. Thus, he hid the deteriorating plaster.

A couple of rainy spells after I’d lived here for some years, those tiles began falling, too. “Humidity,” the research said. After the second batch fell, I decided to clear all of those squares out, thus re-visiting the green plaster.

But how to deal with the large, odd-shaped hole, while figuring out the resolution to the larger problem? Ingenuity, of course. Using spray adhesive, bubble wrap folded between boards, glued, and painted green turned out to be the ugliest possible solution. So much for ingenuity. Fall back and punt. As teachers learned to say and do when plans didn’t work out: “monitor and adjust.”

I had a green, round cloth for a 3-legged table, and push pins, Rhonda Roberts’ CAW gift back a ways. By gluing first, pinning second, I covered the gaping hole. So what if it sagged a tad in the middle? It was too high for anyone to touch if walking under it. The bare boards stayed bare and the green plaster showed through.

It stayed like that until I was in contact again with B. B., Inc. who had replaced a similar ceiling in the smaller office/ Blue Room that Mom called “the sunroom.”

Jordy was assigned the project. He contracted with David and his team for the work, and they began early on a Monday morning. Billy and his friend Taylor had moved the furniture—sofas, bookcases, piano, coffee table, lamp table—the night before. I took all the stuff out of the windows, and off the mantel, moved the African violets to the Green Room in the back, swept and dusted.

Long story short(er), while I was gone, the 4-person team finished their work Friday morning--new sheetrock ceiling with orange-peel texture. The fan and lights were back up, but the lights didn’t work, unused boards were abandoned in the yard, nails left on the porch in a planter I use as a foot stool. Trash decorated the yard, whitewash was emptied in the flowerbeds and on the sidewalk, rags and a take-out coffee container were left on the porch.  Jordy will come Monday to sign off on the work, then Albert will come for the last half of the money.

Next project: while the furniture is out, I’ve contacted Jeff to see if he will paint the paneling, the window frames, and the built-in bookcases.

Newly refinished floors, new ceiling, new paint on the walls? All that’s left is to buy new windows with thicker glass.

I wonder what the old furniture will look like in such a sparkling setting?

               

A deferred dose of trivia

                              The journal given to me one Christmas from Linda Harrison

One of my favorite writing activities is to jot down interesting tidbits from my reading. Here are some examples.

* “Farb-y”/Farb = a word that re-enactors use to describe something incongruous with the time period of the Civil War. Example: a digital wristwatch.

* Obit for T. C., no age given: “We (funeral home) ask that any relatives of Mr. C. please contact [us].” [This ran for several days beginning Dec. 1, 2012]

* On Nov. 30, 1912, there were no newspapers in the Democrat-Gazette archives. [Wonder why?]

* Here’s a Jed Clampit and a Robin Hood in the same obit!

* Michigan is part of the Rust Belt. Also, Indiana and Wisconsin.

* There’s a Grindstone Mountain in south Eureka Springs!

* Generally, earthquakes with less than 2.5 magnitudes go unfelt.” (Go where??? LOL)

* Children’s Book Week began in 1919 and celebrates the transformative power of literacy.

* Quotes from a legislative Green Party candidate: “I don’t have nothing against …” and “I have got all my rights back.”– M. Wickline, AD-G, on Fred Smith (former Harlem Globetrotter). [Eek! I say.]

* Theremin -  haven’t heard/ seen this word for ages. It appeared in Jim Mullen’s column describing what is radio sounds like as he moves closer/farther from it. (Saline Courier 5.1.’12)

*Don’t drink Anheuser-Busch products. Sales in Whiteclay SD ruin the Indians of all ages.–N. D. Kristof, NYT (5.8.12)

*Wow!  Centerpoint (Amity, AR) school beat Episcopal Collegiate (LR, AR) in the 3A Quiz Bowl competition. Bet THAT was a surprise. (5.9.12)

* Quotes on aging/being old: “… the luster of being old.” – R. Toler, “The Paradox of Old,” from Sheer Poetry, p.73

* --“I hope I am doing this till the day I die. I don’t want to go home and be old.” –Pat Baker, owner of Baker’s Jewelry, Bryant, AR.

* Sunday, Aug 26 ’12: from Walter Shapiro via yahoo! Online: “I am not sure I could have survived the 103 steamy ballots that stretched over 16 days at the July 1924 Democratic convention in the decidedly un-air-conditioned Madison Square Garden in NY.” – from a retrospective of all the conventions he’s covered in his career.

*In one family: Farrell, Carroll and Darrell; in another family: Clice, Cloice, Crandal, Calbert, Clessie, Clister.

* COMPLETE NAME: Dusty Wren

* Wedding or engagement announcement header: “Major – Stuff”

* Sherma Couch bore a son on Dec. 16, 1968 in El Dorado (obit)

* “It’s hard to keep 218 frogs in a wheelbarrow long enough to get a bill passed.” – J. Boehner on the number of lawmakers it generally takes) 5.21.12

* “… dull as a froe …” – letter-to-the-editor, AD-G

* Jay Leno owns about 135 cars and 90 motorcycles (Parade Magazine)

* “I think the key to life is low self-esteem.” – J. Leno

* Brock is a name for a badger. – B. Ampezzan on Lou Brock.

* “Baseball is the background music in our lives.” – Lou Brock

* “I absolutely loathe hydrangeas.” – Madonna (Sept, ’11)

But I LOVE hydrangeas!

These are photographed by C. Hoggard

c 2018, PL dba lovepat press, Benton AR USA

A successful riff on a recipe

Nowadays, I don’t often cook. I microwave and oven-cook a lot of frozen Schwan’s merchandise: omelets, bacon, scones, steak burgers, cubed chicken breasts, mashed potatoes, broccoli florets and meatballs. Occasionally, I'll fry salmon patties, favorites of Billy AND moi.

I keep a stash of snacks aligned on the counter: Triskets, raisins/dried cranberries, graham crackers, packaged cheese/ peanut-butter crackers, mixed nuts, and the like.

Fruit, pickles, jello, juices, skim milk, water, cheeses, deli turkey, onions, and (sometimes fresh )tomatoes reside in the fridge and cereal, canned goods rest in the cupboard.

After being invited to daughter/son-in-law/granddaughter’s home for a Sunday supper recently, I decided to reciprocate the following Sunday.

Assessing my “on-hand” foods, I decided on spaghetti and meatballs, the latter frozen, the former that had lived (and been ignored) for a long time in the back of a cupboard. It was not an entire box of the pasta. I was concerned that it wouldn’t be enough for five adults, counting the 16-year old and Kid Billy, who would be off work and able to join us.

So, I turned to the computer for “recipes with/ meatballs.” The one I glommed on was called “Meatball Soup.” Most of the ingredients were on hand: one bag meatballs - check; 32 ounces beef broth - check, although I used four beef bouillon cubes instead; two cans diced tomatoes – check; one potato chopped – no, I used the spaghetti instead; one medium onion, one-half cup – check; one-fourth teaspoon garlic pepper blend – no, I used garlic salt, celery seed and two bay leaves.

Since my crockpot wouldn’t hold all this, I used my Dutch oven and cooked it on the range.
After cooking, a bag of frozen, mixed vegetables was to be added. But I only had a frozen bag of Gumbo veggies with Cajun seasoning. That would do, though it contained okra—not one of my favorite foods.

It taste-tested to my satisfaction, but it wasn’t soupy enough. I added a can of Rotel tomatoes and as much tomato juice as the pot would hold.

I do believe it was the best-tasting soup I’ve ever made, or ever eaten. Most of the dinner guests had two helpings in a salad bowl-sized dish.

Some dinner rolls were in the freezer. I cut them in half crossways, slathered margarine and garlic powder (the only item I had to buy) over them. Toasted in the oven, the bread was a perfect foil for the soup, AND I cleared out more room in the freezer.

For dessert, I mixed cans of cherry pie filling and pineapple chunks, cut up several Halo oranges, jarred peaches and frozen pears. Pecan pieces and coconut (after I determined the guests liked it) rounded out the mixture.

Afterwards, we sat in the living room and visited for over an hour
.
Later, I thought ahead to Easter. What else did I have on hand that I could prepare for company?

For another time, I'll tell you about one other online coup.


c 2018, PL, dba lovepat press, Benton AR

Nature at its best and most colorful

             For two weeks now, I have been struck by these beauties: japonica (firebush), forsythia (yellowbell), spirea, pansies, deep-red miniature nandinas, buttercups, heirloom double jonquils, berried hollies, hyacinths, dianthus and the understated pink blooms of loropetalum.

           Yellow coins of dandelions are blooming underfoot, a portent of future infestation, but purportedly bee havens. Hen-bit greens up the yard until the grass begins growing. Stars-of-Bethlehem are also visible in the grass—they may be considered weeds by some—and a couple of stonecrops peek from down low in the flower bed.

          The oxalis foliage is lush. Don’t they remind you of a shamrock? And thrift. How could I overlook the cascading thrift? Also, the redbud (Judas Tree)’s fuchsia is at its peak. And if that weren’t enough, the pear tree has a few blooms.

            An old begonia with several blooms now hangs on a staff outside the dining room window, but the half-dozen African violets with blossoms will stay inside close to the east and south windows.

            Oh, and the Japanese kerria is showing its yellow orbs after a good pruning earlier.

              After the couple of nights in the thirty-degree area this past week, I began moving my "greenhouse" plants outside to the east-facing porch. The concrete windowsills are good for small-to-medium sized pots. Short ladders, metal chairs, and other plant stands will hold the larger ones. I cut a long "arm" off a huge jade plant and stuck it in with another, less crowded plant.

            Nature can show both its sublimity in the instances of plants and birds, and its destructive violence as experienced in tornadoes, strong winds, late snows, and floods. This year, central Arkansas seems to have seen an inordinate spell of gusty winds. Pretty soon, though . . .  

         

             And March marches on.

 c 2018, PL dba lovepat press, Benton AR

               

               

Vacation turns into Staycation

Four sisters try to take a "Sisters" week annually

                After too much rain and with more predicted, both here and in route, the planned sisters’ trip to Willis, TX, in a condo on Lake Conroe, two of the four of us—one the condo owner—decided against taking the risk of getting into rising water on the way down.

                Since we live within twenty miles of each other, and since the host has a home with three bedrooms, she invited us to “shelter” with her in Little Rock, then fan out from there on three days of flea-marketing forays. One sister had to be at choir rehearsal on Wednesday night, so our staycation would last from Sunday through Wednesday morning.

                I begged a ride with another Benton sister. When she came to pick me up, we stowed my food, a box of legacy trinkets I wanted them to go through, and she said, “Where are your clothes?”

                “We’re coming back tonight,” I said. “Barb didn’t say anything about staying Sunday night.”          “Well, that’s what she meant,” Carolyn said.

                So, I rushed inside, picked up a small, soft-sided Samsonite piece, which usually holds shoes, fan, heating pad and cosmetic bag. I stuffed two tops, two pairs of jeans, underwear, jewelry already out from the day before, nightwear, make-up pouch, toothbrush/paste, meds, and chargers.

                I’d already put extra food in the cat dish and more water in the bowl. The litter box was clean, the plants were watered, the appointments were re-scheduled, the mail hold cancelled. I guess I could manage for three days.

                We arrived mid-morning Sunday, had brunch, drove to South Main Street where our brother-in-law has a booth in an antique shop. We lucked out—Cliff was there. Was he excited when we all four rounded the corner, smiled and waved!

                I bought a silver bracelet with a purple stone, and a used book of selected poems by Federico Garcia Lorca (published in 1955) with Spanish on the left page; English on the right.

                The next stop was a “junk” shop in Hillcrest. Surely nothing in Hillcrest is junk! Although one sniffed at the place, the others of us were impressed.

A movie was on the suggested activities for Sunday, but we decided to drive a few blocks to Bev’s home and watch “La La Land” for free. The last movie I’d seen was “Sleepless in Seattle” at Dot’s home a couple of weeks earlier.

                Monday’s itinerary included multiple flea markets in Cabot and Beebe. My BFF Dot came to see us when her workday ended. She’d met the other sisters at my 80^th birthday party but hadn’t seen them since.

                 We ended the day at Holiday Inn Express in Searcy. Dinner was at the Rock House.

                Tuesday morning, we found a couple of places to visit in Searcy, then one more in both Cabot and Beebe. Rain was on its way, so we hurried home. That night, we watched a tape of the ending ceremonies of the Olympics, then the Arkansas-Auburn basketball game, all the while continuing our cut-throat game of Phase 10.

                Wednesday morning after breakfast, we packed up, straightened our rooms and, again, before the rain, left for our respective homes. The rain caught up with us, but it wasn’t so hard we couldn’t deposit my boxes and sacks of goodies—blue glass pieces, a pear candleholder, a Haeger pot, 4 silver (looking) candlesticks for the mantel—on the porch.

                Grandson Billy, sole occupant at Couchwood for three days, not knowing when I would return, had locked the screen door! Thank goodness, he was getting ready for work and heard my desperate phone call. “Sorry,” he said. But he was only being safe.

                That afternoon, I took a three-and-one-half hour nap.

c 2018 PL, dba lovepat press, Benton AR

Clearing clutter: D. I. Y, or let the heirs do it?

Stuff on one wall of the dining room

One bookshelf full and running over; one cat too many

 Downsizing, articles call it, but since I’m NOT moving to a smaller house, I must call it something else: trimming, shrinking, decreasing in size, or reducing in volume. BFF Dot calls it "thinning.” 

Research says that “downsizing” came into the lexicon in 1986 when companies began shedding jobs. Earlier, in 1974, the word was supposedly coined by General Motors when auto companies began making smaller cars and trucks.

When one inherits a houseful of her parents’ things, PLUS her grandmother’s things, PLUS the stuff one brings to the house when she moves in . . . And when one is getting to the advanced age where the end of life becomes more a reality each day, month, and year, one needs to be mindful of these things.

One day, I scooped up from under the buffet a plastic box that I thought hadn’t been touched since I moved here in 2006. But it had—by me—in 2009. It was full of Kid Billy’s school programs and menus, clippings from the Daily Siftings Herald and the Arkansas Times—things from the five Arkadelphia years.

Many of the clippings had my note “Story” inked in. That was before my first novel had been written but were articles about the history of the 1930s. Those found a new home in the recycling box. I kept columns from Richard Allin and Charles Allbright and one article from the Arkansas Times by Bob Lancaster.

The next day, pleased with my previous day’s “thinning” activity, I ventured into a back bedroom that had become a catch-all when the floors were re-done in the front.  When Kid Billy moved back in August, his extra belongings were deposited there.

I began with an old, yellowed box that held old, yellowed envelopes addressed to a long-dead Couch great uncle whom I’d only heard about. An entire ancient shoebox held his legacy. I Facebooked the family group and asked if anyone wanted it. Youngest brother said he’d like them; he didn’t know Uncle Lewis and would like to. GOOD!

In another deep box lid were myriad letters, school reports, post cards, some as far back as 1905, belonging to Mom’s mother. I sent word to a Tennessee cousin who took an interest in that side of the family’s genealogy that she could have a boxful of Grandma Flossie’s correspondence and even a journal.

Then I hung two collages of family photos and one of Billy as a toddler. Ah! Should I wish to, I could actually sit on one end of the pullout sofa. One of these days, it might serve as a guest room again.

In the meantime, if I get tired, I can relax in an old, Naugahyde-covered rocker and watch a VHS of my choosing. Though I don’t have a working TV, I DO have a VHS player--$50 from the pawn shop several years ago.

                Hope you have a happy March!   

                                              Another view of too much stuff - same cats

 c 2018 PL