It’s Time, Right?

It’s time, right?

To get on the road with the thawing turkey in the backseat,

the Delia’s tamales for Saturday’s Aggie game in tow,

the sacks and sacks of groceries stuck in every nook and cranny,

the crate of Christmas decorations (found in the Christmas closet) it is time to share with my daughters for their homes,

and the mantra ‘I think I can, I think I can ,I think I can’, when I think about facing the anxiety of making giblet gravy tomorrow.


A very dear friend said to me recently, when I was worrying about how to handle challenges in my life,

”It’s all about the relationship Laura.  Protect that and everything will be OK.”


So 7 hours laughing in the truck and talking about football with my husband and not worrying about the future is about the relationship,

and supper last night at Luby’s with my father because he will be celebrating Thanksgiving with my brother’s family is about the relationship,

and remembering to ask myself whose standard it is ,when feeling aggravated or irritable is about protecting my relationships at large.

Have a blessed Thanksgiving,

Laura

 

Fan-atic

If you were to question anyone who sat anywhere near me when our daughters were

playing volleyball, running track, playing tennis, showing lambs, competing in debate tournaments

or one act play, let’s just say I may have been a little intense-

when I wasn’t hiding my eyes or sticking my fingers in my ears.


Nothing, however, prepared me for this.


Every feeling I have as a grandmother grows exponentially,

as in what-a sized, amped up, increased to the nth degree.

Add trying to take an action shot through a small opening in a chain link fence at a baseball

tournament, praying something will be in focus, and I am fanatically exhausted.

It is wonderful.

Food Groups

If someone would just drop off a plate of this (fresh steamed vegetables and a grilled chicken breast) every night, then I wouldn’t be tempted to think of ways to use this.

Sigh…

But have you ever had these?

(source)

Magic Bars.

Sigh…

Recipe here.

Enjoy!

Last year’s After Christmas Shopping

The Thanksgiving groceries have been purchased (after multiple 6:00 am trips to HEB).

The packing for our Thanksgiving trip to our oldest daughter’s house has begun.


So, a little digging in the Christmas closet seemed harmless enough…

Mercy, as my grandmother would say.

PLEASE tell me that you purchased Christmas ornaments last year, at a price you couldn’t resist,

and after packing them safely away, YOU FORGOT WHAT YOU BOUGHT???

 

As a result of pulling things out of sacks and going ‘what'?’,

I made two important decisions.

A.  I. may. not. go. after. Christmas. shopping. this.year,

and

B.  I am going to stop digging in the Christmas closet and watch the Aggie game, while looking for a great sweet potato casserole recipe.

Have a great weekend!




 

Dear Daughters: Gilded Comfort

Dear Daughters,

I have reached a wonderful point in life where

for me

it is ALL about comfort and ‘gilding the lily’.

Case in point.

I may not be willing to wear shoes that hurt,

but as you well know, I want my earrings to dangle

and my bracelets to reach my elbow.

And so in the case of my finally finished guest bedroom,

I wanted it to look like a wonderful place to take a nap-

while resting under a chandelier and amid a couple of

leopard print pillows.

This makes perfect sense to me.

And so I hunted and shopped the house and hunted some more.

I painted random pieces of furniture Annie Sloan’s Paris Grey ,

which didn’t try to make them look like more than they were,

but sent the message that they were old friends.

And no,

I may not recommend Rubbing and Buffing an entire

iron bed in antique gold,

but it’s done,

and I love it.

And yes I even did a little antique gold spray painting in the room,

while trying to hold up a protective piece of cardboard.

You know I am a rule breaker.

 

And the feel of this 5x8 rug under my feet,

as I tested it in TJ Maxx

(yes, I took off my flip flops and tested it)

met my comfort approval.

And so my message to you dear daughters,

this damp chilly day,

is to find as much physical comfort as you can in your day

while

gilding your lily

or painting the barn as Papa would say.


Love ,

Mom

***

Linking to:

House of Hepworths - Hookin Up with HOH 
No Minimalist Here - Open House Party 
Simple Home Life - Simply Creations

The Shabby Creek Cottage - Transformation Thursday
Addicted to Decorating - Addicts (not so) Anonymous Party
Chic On A Shoestring – Flaunt It Friday 
Faith, Trust and a Little Pixie Dust - Fabulous Friday Linky Party
Finding Fabulous - Frugalicious Friday

Ranch Recipes: Broccoli Cornbread

Once upon a time there were three little girls

headed to a county 4H foods and nutrition

contest.

Two prepared their dishes in my kitchen because

they were my daughters (Lauren and Katherine).

The third , Elizabeth, the daughter of my dear friend JB, created her wonderful

dish Broccoli Cornbread in her mother’s kitchen.

To this day

Broccoli Cornbread

is a family favorite and is now an honorary

member of

Ranch Recipes.

I prepared it today, along with a pot of my vegetable beef soup for

another dear friend.

Thank you Elizabeth!

***

Broccoli Cornbread

2 boxes Jiffy Cornbread mix

1 small carton cottage cheese

4 beaten eggs

1 box thawed chopped broccoli

1 stick melted butter

Mix all ingredients and bake at 350 degrees until done.

Enjoy!

***

Linking to

Hands in the Dirt

Growing up on a ranch in the country,

I learned the value of having my

hands in the dirt.


That is when, I believe, the best thinking occurs.

It is such a humble act.


My father would say ‘I came by it honest’,

as did my Grandmother Mills,

and my aunts,

and my mother,

and of course my father.


Whether it happens on a little league field,

or in a garden of tomatoes,

or zinnias,

or a dry land farm full of grain,

it is an act that allows us to say

we are simple people,

with simple humble values,

and an appreciation for the simple things in life.

At a little league game this past week,

while watching my oldest grandson wait patiently on first base,

waiting for the perfect moment to steal second,

as he let handfuls of dirt run through his fingers,

I began to grin because I realized he gets it too.


He has an old soul.

Don’t however be fooled by his relaxed state.


Even in my family’s love of the simple things,

we can move pretty fast when we need to.


He stole home.