Squirrel Lessons for Me

            We have a resident squirrel at our house.  She provides much entertainment for me and my cat, Benny.  I am sure the entertainment for each not quite the same.  While I am admiring this bunch of active fur Benny is hunched down as low as he can get in front of the patio doors, slowing creeping, inch by inch, closer to the glass door.  Pure cat!  Squirrel saved by a pane of glass!

            I have given her the female gender because she is so busy, so storing up for the winter, even though the winter is here.  She makes me think of the ladies in my village when canning season is upon them.

  This grey little “lady” is swift of foot and keeps at it, back and forth from our woodshed to the nearest big pine tree. The earth is covered with a few inches of snow. It is a fair distance, out in the open, passing along a sidewalk, then an apple tree and sandbox, on behind the swing set and zip, up the pine tree. Sometimes she pauses on top of the sandbox lid, taking a breather, but always on the alert.  She makes this run while packing an item as big as her own head in her jaws.  I am guessing it is a dried apple that she has previously pocketed away in the woodshed in warmer days, when I was through harvesting my own apples. 

            It is not even a minute before she is back down on the ground, checking out a fallen pine cone or two and then a dash back to the shed for yet another burden. 

            She has to be brave, we have an outdoor cat with two kittens.  Maybe she knows they are a lazy variety as they often turn their backs on her activities.  We also have families of magpies that call that same pine “home.”  There seems to be no threat from that department.

            So industrious, so intent on what she is doing.  She could provide several lessons for most humans about how to conduct their lives, how to be successful.  It always makes me think that I need to be better at prioritizing what is important in the eternal scheme of things.  I admire her so much, I just had to write about her.  Hope you have enjoyed it.

Delight or Drudgery?

It is time for Christmas Cards, and it is a time I like.  This does take lots of time, there is the list of recipients, the writing of notes or perhaps a letter revealing the events of the last 12 months in your lives,  the addressing, the stamping, sealing and mailing.  It is not an overnight task at my house, the process has to be dovetailed in with the chores of daily living.  I always wish I had started to do it earlier, like some of my well organized friends.  However I have learned that whether early in the season or late, the sending and receiving is what is important, even if the card arrives after Christmas. 

When the mailman, or woman in my case, delivers a greeting from a friend or relative it warms my heart.  First I do some thinking about the individual who chose to send us a card, grateful that we are sufficiently a part their lives to receive a card.  Then I am warmed again as I open and peruse the contents.  Finally I want to find a spot to display the card as part of my Christmas decorations.  In this way I am reminded of the friend and our association for several weeks, depending on when it arrived.

I have yet to get this year's cards in the mail.  I do have the list out, the boxes of cards chosen and today finished up my annual letter.  I have wondered if those getting my missives will be bored by the "same old, same old," descriptions of the life of me and my husband.  I have decided that doesn't matter.  What matters is how I feel about them.  One has just recently buried her husband and I need to keep that in mind while I am in the midst of this annual production.  Normally she is one who just sends a card, no note, etc.  but I think this year I need to reach a little more than usual.  I wonder if there are some who have been seriously ill, or had circumstances in their lives that I might have assisted, had I known.  Still, this is the one time of year that we pause and wish goodness for others in this special way.

This year I want to feel like each card to my friends is like a birthday card for our Savior, after all it is His  birth that brings all of these good feelings into my heart.  I know He wants us all to come to the celebration of His coming to earth.

To Keep or to Toss---groceries

I read Prevention magazine.  Recently I was going through an article on saving at the supermarket and found it interesting to share.   You know how we are always being told to read the labels, to note the sell-by date, the expiration date, etc. so we can keep our families healthy.  I thought this bit of info might be worth sharing.


If stored properly, that means 40 degrees or below these items are still good.  Milk for a week past the sell-by date.  Eggs 3-4 weeks past the sell-by date.  Hard cheese (once opened) is good 2-4 months past the sell-by date.  Yogurt, 10-14 days past the sell-by date. Lunch meat 3-5 days past sell-by date.

For milk hit the dairy aisle right before checking out to minimize the amount of time milk is left unrefrigerated, and store it on a shelf pushed far back, where the air is coldest.  Store eggs in the original container on a refrigerator shelf rather than on th door, where eggs are vulnerable to temperature fluctuations.  Wrap cheese in moisture-proof plastic or foil; if the outside of hard cheese has visible mold, trim off the mold and a 1/2 inch area of cheese below it.  Yogurt is best stored at around 39 degrees F., a good temp for your fridge.  Don't be deterred by separation---simply stir and enjoy.  Store lunch meat in the meat compartment---it is specially designed to keep cool air in.

When I think of the groceries I have tossed, and of course, the money out of my food budget that accompanies it.  One thing I have discovered on my own is that if we can keep things air tight they certainly last longer, whether it is cookies or celery, the rule applies.  There, my tip for the day.  A good one for Thanksgiving when we have leftovers in abundance.

Just Thinking Overtime

           My brain gets a workout now and then, this is the results of one of those times.  It has been a long time since I blogged on this site,  I know I need to do some "fixing" so I will be more happy with it.  Suggestions are welcome.  I write all the time, just don't share,  so why blog?

           Sometimes I think being a human is very hard.  We have thinking powers and so are faced with decisions.  We are responsible for ourselves, we are responsible to others.  We have obligations to fulfill, we make promises, bargains….much involved with other humans. 

            Other living things on this earth are dependent on us.  Consider  the pets we enjoy---eat, sleep, roll over, play, entertain, show affection, maybe guard.  On a farm animals may help with work, or produce a desired product for the humans, but still they are cared for totally by us.  Plants are cared for by us or nature, wild and tame animals the same.  Humans----have it harder.

            We are connected to other humans.  We are happy, sad, we get hurt feelings, we argue, we take revenge.  We have to work to provide for our livelihood one way or another.  Sometimes we hate the work we have to do.

            Short of being a hermit, there is no other way.  It is part of the plan, our journey may be over cobblestones and full of potholes.  Most journeys are.  That seems to be the times we grow the most, at least when we look back on the potholes we have navigated.

            In the long run, life is good.  We just have to remind ourselves of that every so often.

A Day For Pioneers

Around here this is a day for celebrating.  In 1847 the members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints had finally found a place of safety in the valleys surrounding the Great Salt Lake.  I am sure that when their prophet Brigham Young declared, “ This is the Place!”  there were quite a few that inwardly thought , “It is?  This barren, sagebrush filled spot, is the place where we have been led?” 

It had to be with mixed feelings that they walked down  the mountain canyons into that arid area, feelings of relief, gladness that their journey had come to an end, disappointment that the place did not offer the promises of any ease or luxury. In July it was probably a day to wipe sweat from their brows.  After all, these pioneers were human, they had crossed the Great Plains, the deserts in the tops of the Rocky Mountains, they knew eking a living from this sort of surroundings would not be easy. 

Some of them had been city dwellers, accustomed to a different type of life. They had traveled through Missouri, Iowa, etc. and had seen the rich farm lands of the Midwest.  On they came, following divine direction.  Past Indians, crossing deep rivers, noting the scarcity of civilization, just Ft. Laramie and then Ft. Bridger. 

I so admire the faith of those people, who set to doing, to living, meeting the many challenges that came their way  so that it truly became The Place.  After a few years they had made a spot thriving with education, culture and  many of the finer things that they had left behind.

Being a convert to the faith I cannot claim those Utah pioneers.  But I still celebrate, thinking not just of the Utah pioneers, but those of my own.  Settling Wyoming in the 1800’s.  Two ancestry lines go back to the 1600’s in the claiming of the eastern seaboard in Massachusetts,  Connecticut, South Carolina, All these  people had to have more than grit and determination.  All had to have a goodly measure of faith to help them carry on in the face of the things at that time in history that could deter them from accomplishing dreams.  All came with the hope of a better life than the one left behind.

When we step into the unknown, whatever it might be, it is a pioneering step.  The step will affect others coming behind us, particularly those of our family.  Today is my pioneer day too, so glad my forebears made the choices that placed me in this land.

Hangin' Out

Last week I had piles of laundry, leftovers from a large family gathering.  In the sorting process I figured I could be more efficient, and shave a little off the dryer bill, by hanging part of the stuff outside. 

            The day was hot and the sheets dried in no time.  I had four lines filled with sheets, and still more to wash.  The towels got the dryer treatment, more fluff than on the line.  This project took more than one day to accomplish with batch after batch.  It was something to look forward to, believe it or not!

            It felt good to be hanging out, even with the hot temperatures.  When I was growing up this was a weekly event, wash hanging on the line, all year round, even in freezing winter.  My mind was going back to those “good old days.”  Nice memories now, complaints on occasion in those earlier years. 

            Hangin’ out now has a different meaning altogether than in the days of my youth.  Being together with friends, engaged in something enjoyable.  I am glad it still can bring good feelings, providing there are the right choices.  I like hangin’ out, from either perspective.

MW????

Just what do those letters mean to you?  I take a homeopathic lettered with MW, standing for Mature Woman.  It is a nice way of describing those of us who are dealing with the hot flashes of later life.

            I was mulling it over this morning and thinking that MW could stand for lots of things connected with this phase of life.  The first thought was Mad Woman.  As the brain started rolling others came up:   Maddening Witch, then to be a little nicer, Magic Witch,  Maniac Witch,  Mad and Weird,  Mutated Wimp, Murky Wiles….well, you can see how things were progressing.

            From there my ideas turned to hot flashes and wonders on why we have to endure these thermal tortures.    Will the comments made at my funeral be influenced by the way I reacted to these intense flashes of heat at inappropriate times?  Perhaps  the epitaph on the marker of my final resting place will be,”  Just couldn’t stand that last hot flash.”