Posted November 25, 2021 by katry
Categories: photo

“Gratitude is when memory is stored in the heart and not in the mind.” 

Posted November 25, 2021 by katry
Categories: Musings

Happy Thanksgiving!

I wish you all a day filled with family and good friends. As you sit around the table enjoying a good meal and each other, think of all your gifts and blessings and give thanks.

The morning is crisp, not yet winter cold. It is a beautiful morning filled with sunshine, a squint your eyes sunshine. The sky is a very dark blue without a cloud in sight. The air is so still nothing is moving. The leaves just sit at the ends of the branches. Their demise delayed. The dogs went out, and I followed. They ran around the yard, and I watched from the deck. I also retrieved my shoe, stolen by Nala, and a hat which came from my bedroom. I did a bit of trash pick-up while I was out.

On Thanksgiving morning when I was a kid, we’d all be sitting still in our pajamas in front of the TV watching the parade. We’d be noshing, as my mother would have said, on tangerines, mixed nuts in the shell and M&M’s. The aroma of the turkey would have already filled the house. My mother woke in the early morning to stuff it and put it in the oven. Every year it was a huge turkey, good for days of leftovers. My mother filled it with sage stuffing, still my favorite. While we watched the parade, my mother stayed in the kitchen peeling vegetables. Potatoes were always first, and there were plenty. My father’s asparagus, canned asparagus, was put in a small pan on the back burner. My mother peeled the small pearl onions for creamed onions, one of my favorite vegetables. Niblet corn and sometimes carrots filled out the menu. I remember the heat and steam when my mother opened the over to baste the turkey with butter and steal a bit of the crusty stuffing, hers by right of being the cook. On the table would be a paper Thanksgiving tablecloth. I remember it was the same very year, covered in turkeys and cornucopias. Even though the table was set with our usual plates, it looked festive and beautiful. Once the food was on the table, it became a groaning board. The pies waited in the kitchen for their turns, apple, maybe pumpkin and definitely lemon meringue. I always chose the lemon meringue.

I am so thankful for these memories filled with family.

Lord, ’tis Thy plenty-dropping hand

Lord, ’tis Thy plenty-dropping hand
That soils my land,
And giv’st me for my bushel sown
Twice ten for one.
All this, and better, Thou dost send
Me, to this end,
That I should render, for my part,
A thankful heart.

Robert Herrick

Cry Myself to Sleep: Del Shannon

Posted November 23, 2021 by katry
Categories: Video

Cry Cry Cry: Johnny Cash

Posted November 23, 2021 by katry
Categories: Video

Judy’s Turn To Cry: Lesley Gore

Posted November 23, 2021 by katry
Categories: Video

Cry To Me: Solomon Burke

Posted November 23, 2021 by katry
Categories: Uncategorized

Posted November 23, 2021 by katry
Categories: photo

“Life is like an onion; you peel it off one layer at a time, and sometimes you weep.”

Posted November 23, 2021 by katry
Categories: Musings

The morning is windy, cold and grim. The dead leaves at the end of the branches are falling, raining to the ground. The tallest branches of the old pine tree sway against the white grey sky. I didn’t just go out to get the paper. I also loaded trash bags into the trunk and picked-up yesterday’s mail. It was so cold my sweatshirt wasn’t enough. The wind blew right up my sleeves. I even think they billowed.

When Nala was among the missing, I called her from the yard. No Nala. I went outside to look for her. Henry followed. I called her over and over and checked out the yard. No Nala. I went upstairs to see if she was napping on my bed. Still no Nala. I kept calling. My voice gave away my panic. It was then Nala sauntered in through the dog door. I’m not enjoying her hide and seek game.

My dance card has a few events. Tonight is uke practice and tomorrow is my lesson. Tomorrow is also dump day and booster day. I have a chore list for today. I have to unearth my kitchen floor. I’m hoping to find artifacts. One chore is already crossed off the list. I’ve changed the cat litter and put it in the trunk. I’m exhausted.

When I was a kid, I had no chores. My mother made the beds, did the laundry, cooked meals, washed the dishes and cleaned the house. When I got home from school, my rumpled bed was made. The bureau drawers were filled with clean laundry. It was like magic.

On the night before I left for Ghana I called home to say good-bye. My mother told me she had folded the sweatshirt I had left on my bed and she had put it away. It was then my mother started to cry. I hated hearing her cry. She told me she realized that would probably be the last time she did that. It was the first time I had heard her cry about my leaving. It was the last time she folded my clothes.

Mashed Potatoes U.S.A.: James Brown

Posted November 22, 2021 by katry
Categories: Video

Young Pilgrims: The Shins

Posted November 22, 2021 by katry
Categories: Video


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