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Oh, Joy! Oh, Joy!

15 Aug

The Squire does not enjoy any hot beverage. No coffee, no tea, no cocoa. I like all of these, especially coffee. I do not like instant coffee per se, but can’t see making an entire pot just for myself, so I have been drinking General Foods International Coffees, especially Orange Cappuccino for about twenty years.  About two years ago, it disappeared from the shelves, but complaints from consumers brought it back for a short while, until it once again faded into history.

Recently, I decided I was going to contact the company to find out where it could be purchased, and discovered it is carried at Wal-Mart, of all places. This created a  bit of an ethical dilemma for me, as I absolutely refuse to step foot in that store, but I discovered I could purchase it on-line for the same price – plus shipping – as buying it locally. I ordered four cans on the 13th, and paid for the cheapest possible shipping, which would have gotten it here around the 28th.

It arrived today!

Oh, glory, glory! Some of us are SO easy to please! I shall have to nurse it along, switching it out with the Hazelnut flavor, to make it last. Some people are so easy to please!

I have often said my mother was a piece of work. When my dad was alive, he often participated in the Anglican church’s TAPE program – Trans Atlantic Parish Exchange. You decide where you want to go, they match you up with another priest, and you swap churches and homes. You do have to pay for your transportation, but when you arrive, you have a job, a house, a car, a dog, and more dinner invitations than you can handle. (My mother said she never had to cook supper the first three months in any new location.)

My father flat-out refused to fly, so they went to the UK about three times in any two year period on the QE2. Not exactly steerage, either.

So – one evening my folks were visiting here, and I asked my mother if she’d like to try a cup of my Orange Cappuccino. This was a long time ago, back when groceries still had price stickers, and my mother turned over the can, looked at the price, all of $2.59, and remarked, “Humph, your father and I can’t afford that”.

To which The Squire replied, “I’ll have you know, my wife is worth a dollar and a quarter a week”.

She nearly choked.

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Holy Smoke!

13 Aug

I had a doctor’s appointment this morning at the unearthly hour of 8 AM. Normally, the only time I have to be anyplace at that time of day is when I am working, so when I mentioned getting up at O:dark-ugly, The Squire assumed that was where I was headed.

When I came down at 5:45 this morning I could smell “burnt”. We had over 6 1/2 inches of rain yesterday between 8:30 and 5, and I figured the rain had come down the chimney and dampened the ashes.  When I walked into the kitchen I found four very well done eggs in the compost, and two others cooling in a pan on the stove. My usual breakfast is two hardboiled eggs and a cucumber, and The Squire, bless him, had fixed me some eggs to take to the office.  He told me that he had put the first eggs in the pan, brushed his teeth, etc., intending to come out and turn off the fire once the water had boiled and let them cook on retained heat. Instead, he had gone up to bed on autopilot.

About 1:30 in the morning, the dog had started to carry on, and he had gotten up to see what had Blazer all in an uproar.

Both the kitchen and dining room smoke alarms were going full-tilt, and the eggs were not only boiled, they had exploded.

Bless him, my husband cleaned up, and then fixed me two more eggs, which he stayed and watched until it was time to turn off the heat and put a lid on the pot.

Me? I slept through the whole thing.

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Why I Never Get Anything Done

7 Aug

Great BlueWhen I opened the bedroom curtains today, this Great Blue was standing on the patio, apparently surveying the breakfast menu in the pond. He stayed put long enough for me to dash downstairs and grab the camera and get this shot. It is a bit fuzzy because I took it through both the window glass and the screen.

My computer sits right in front of the den window, so I can keep an eye on the various types of finches, butterflies, plain old birds, and hummingbirds which come to the feeders.

We have two hummingbird feeders, and by some sort of common consent, one is used almost exclusively by the honey bees and the other by the birds. Given the dearth of honey bees lately, seeing so many jostling around the feeder is really nice. The hummingbirds move so quickly it is hard to tell what they are – definitely not Ruby Throated, so either Rufous or Calliope. Both have green backs and lighter undersides, but beyond that I can’t tell you anything. But they are really tanking up. We also have chickadees, which is really unusual for this time of year. Some of the oak trees are already dropping acorns – not green ones, but big fat brown ones, fully ripe. This is not normal for the first week of August, folks.

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Winterthur

6 Aug

Eldest Daughter took me to Winterthur today to see the Downton Abbey costumes as a belated birthday treat.

We decided to have lunch first, and I had a Devonshire, cauliflower and Stilton bisque than was almost thick enough to spread on toast, and tasted heavenly! That and a veggie and fresh mozzarella wrap kept me going for the rest of the day.

The costumes truly are lovely, and for the most part, look much better on the actors and actresses than they do “in person”. I’ve never seen a single episode of the show, so she was explaining things to me as we went along. Between her explanations and my insistence upon reading every single sign (Oh, mother!) it took us a while, but it was worth it. Afterward, we toured part of the house; only one floor is open to the public because of a massive remodeling project, but what we did see was impressive. I simply cannot grasp the idea of living that way.

The guide said that the cleaning must be done by museum-trained professionals, although she had never actually seen any of them. “I think they come in like pixies and clean in the middle of the night.”  This made me chuckle, as we have a fellow at our church who refuses to use the ribbon bookmarks in the hymnals, because “they are never in the right place.” I once asked him if he thought we had a team of pixies who go through the church at night marking the books.

However, I digress.

A tram tour of the gardens, and then a decadent dessert and coffee topped off a wonderful day. I came home and took a nap!

Thank you, dear!

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Excuse Me!

3 Aug

We had a quick vestry meeting after church today, and The Squire glanced out the office window to see some fellow casually wandering through the grounds with a metal detector and a shovel.

He hustled on out and asked the man what he thought he was doing. “Just lookin’ fer old stuff in the park.” The Squire carefully informed him that this was private church property, not a public park, which apparently came as a complete surprise. (I think he’d been talking to the lady who complained our storage shed blocked her view of “the park”.)

“It is indeed private property and it is also a Federally protected national historical site, so anything you might find belongs to the U.S. Government. You are welcome to walk your dog or visit, but please do not come back here again with that equipment.”  Laid it on a bit thick, but the man was inclined to argue, so The Squire suggested the next time he came over, he could discuss it with the Sheriff.

Honestly, some people.

 

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Butterflies, Butterflies!

30 Jul

This afternoon while The Squire and I were feeding the fish, he happened to glance up and noticed that our Mimosa tree was covered with Monarch butterflies.  We tried to take some snaps from the ground, but I ran upstairs and took several, including a video, through the bedroom window. It’s hard to get a sense of how many there were, or how much bustling around was going on in a still photo, but there are three in this shot, which may give you an idea.

butterfly 1It might also explain why our hummingbird feeder hasn’t been getting much traffic.

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It Must be the Weather

28 Jul

In our parish, the announcements are made from the pulpit before the service starts, rather than after the Peace, which seems to be the custom in many parishes.

The last two weeks, after finishing the announcements, the rector has said, “Let us with gladness present our offerings and oblations unto the Lord.” Even he admits he has no idea why that particular phrase pops into his mind.

Yesterday, The Squire and the other usher brought up the wine and bread (the offerings and oblations), turned and put up the Communion rail – normally done when they return the collection to the altar – and then started back down the aisle, without the offering plates. About a third of the way down, one of the members of the congregation grabbed The Squire by the arm and whispered “the plates“, without adding “you dummy”, I might add. He actually had to whistle for the other usher, who was high-tailing it back to his pew.  When they returned the plates following the offertory, they bypassed the crucifer and put the plates directly on the side table. I have no idea what either of them were thinking.

The Squire has only been the head usher at our church for, oh maybe, thirty years.

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Let There Be Light!

19 Jul

Our friendly neighborhood electrician came over yesterday morning and spent most of the day working on the lights in the living room. The ceiling light presented some problems beyond those caused by trying to work with your hands over your head. As I mentioned in my post on June 26th, the wires had been clipped quite short, which left very little to attach the new fixture. In addition, the ground and the live wires had been switched around. (I swear, Laurel and Hardy had a hand in the construction of this place!) It took several tries and a blown fuse (yes, a fuse!) to get the light working – finally.

There were also two outlets that had gone dead. They are on opposite sides of the same wall, and went dead at the same time, so we all – The Squire, the electrician, and I – assumed the mice had chewed through the wires. Oh, joy. Meditating on this revolting development, The Squire remembered that he and my dad had installed those two outlets, and they were also fed from the fuse box in the corner, with the wires coming down from the ceiling.  All of the fuses looked fine, but because he is the “do the obvious first” type, The Squire replaced all of the fuses in the box, and lo! and behold, the lights came on. So easy. Yeesh.

We were also informed that according to today’s code, you are not supposed to have electric outlets above hot water baseboard heat pipes. Huh?  Where are you supposed to put them?  I can see not putting them on, say, the floor where they would get water in them. But why not above them?

This would mean that there would be no outlets in the living room at all, and the only one in our bedroom would be the one behind and under the bed, where the table lamps are plugged in. There would be one in the dining room, and one in the den – on the wall opposite the computer. And unless we wanted to put an outlet over the tub, there is no place suitable place in the bathroom at all.

“Don’t look at me. I’d didn’t make ’em, and I don’t understand ’em, but those are today’s rules. I don’t know nuttin’ about what you guys have here now.”

And the electrician picked up his tools and departed.

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The Great Meal Worm Debacle

10 Jul

My ability to grow things is the stuff of legend.

I can’t.

My sister and my eldest daughter could grow cactus in a swamp. I can hardly grow weeds. I have killed snake plant and Wandering Jew. I can make plastic flowers wither.

The Squire and I both enjoy feeding and watching the birds and squirrels in the garden. We’ve always wanted to attract blue birds, but the surest way to do that is with live meal worms. I’ve purchased small quantities from time to time, and set them out along the edge of the main feeder, but only the grackles and the squirrels are interested in them. Sometimes, I’d leave the container of live worms in the fridge too long, and they’d die and make a stink.

As would The Squire. Make a stink, I mean. Not die.

I mentioned this to a friend and he told me growing your own is very simple – and it is. A flat plastic container, an inch or so of chicken mash, a few carrots for moisture and about 100 meal worms, and you’re all set. Put on the lid, but don’t make it airtight, and let nature take its course.  Voila! Something I could actually grow.

And we were off! I was surprised at how quickly the critters multiplied. Cue the music for The Sorcerer’s Apprentice. I still wasn’t getting any blue birds, but by gum, we had meal worms! My friend said that because the worms like the dark, he often put a piece of folded newspaper on top of the chicken mash. The worms would crawl in between the sheets of paper, and could be shaken into the bird feeder or lifted off very easily.

Well, I did exactly that, except because my paper was more than twice the width of the plastic box, I had an extra “flap”. The phone rang while I was in the middle of this, and I walked off with the flap up – and the lid  off. (Don’t give me anything complicated to do. I’m easily distracted.) The worms don’t travel fast, but they can make some real headway if you leave them overnight.

I found the top of the dryer covered with the silly things the next morning. I scooped them all up, shook a few out of the inside of a pair of gardening gloves, turned the newspaper folded side down, and made sure the lid was secure on two corners.

Well, last night, The Squire was fixing dinner (he’s well trained that way) and he discovered several meal worms had made their way into a bag of potatoes and had had a high old time. Do you know how bad rotten potatoes smell? Lordy!  I think even skunk is easier on the nose – and your not apt to put your thumb into a skunk, either. (Oh, there’s a picture for you.)

Let’s just say he was not pleased.

Anybody want a meal worm farm?

 

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The Voice of the Lord…

9 Jul

…strips the cedars bare. Storm 1

It also does a really good job on the trees in our back yard.

We had a tremendously bad windstorm last night, and when I came home from mid-week service, this is what greeted me in the driveway. I originally thought The Squire had moved the branch so I could get in, but it had, by the grace of God, actually fallen into the bushes by the side of the drive.

Do you see that straight tree trunk next to the arch? The branch came from that tree, which is on the other side of the drive way. It probably flew fifty feet before it landed.

The Squire had to take the chainsaw to it, load it onto the cart, and then haul it out to the brush pile at the back of the property. It did a number on the bushes and took out the hummingbird feeder, but we are glad it didn’t land on the arch, or block the drive completely.

Or worse.

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