Looking Back, Back, Back

We had dinner at The Pink Cadillac again, since it changed owners.  The “diner” has always been a great trip to the past, and now it is freshly painted, and refurbished.

A fellow came in and asked our hostess what she would recommend on the menu.  Her reply was quick.

“An Elvis Burger, French Fries and a Milk Shake!”

I had not ordered that but maybe next time.  Sounds irresistible if not deadly!

I love the Texaco gas pump and tried to photograph the gas price on the front.  It isn’t clear but it was 32 cents a gallon!  Sometimes I think we are headed back, back, back to the old pricing doesn’t it?

 Oh look!  A real jukebox on the back wall.  It still works and plays a lot of Elvis tunes as well as some more modern selections.

There’s a great feeling at this little diner on the edge of Lexington, Virginia where you just can’t help smiling.

If you come here for a visit, I’ll meet you at the Pink Cadillac for an Elvis Burger, French Fries, and a Milk Shake!

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How to Eat String Cheese and Look Young

I never liked string cheese.

The name, itself, is off-putting don’t you think?  String equates to “stringy” which sounds tasteless and hard to chew.  I think I tried it once but found it as described – tasteless and stringy.

 

However, my son and the 3 grandgirls were visiting this holiday and brought a giant package of organic string cheese which they seemed to thoroughly enjoy.

“I don’t think I like string cheese,” I said.

“Oh, Grammy – try it.”

I proceeded to chomp down on the end of my stick thing.

“Noooo.  You don’t eat string cheese like that,” rang in the 3 grandgirls.  “Peel off a skinny string and savor the flavor.”

And yes, I am now a string-cheese fan!

I suppose I look young eating it too – savvy and in-the-know you know.

Isn’t it wonderful the things we learn from the young?

From en.wikipedia.org :

String cheese came to prominence following the market crash of 1929. Families desperate for cheese would take discarded cheeses from the aristocrats of the time. They would divide the cheese into sticks. The individual families would then take the sticks and break them into long strings to give to each of their many children. Children would often ask to be given their “string of cheese,” which was eventually shortened to string cheese when cheese manufacturers began selling the product after the U.S. economy recovered.

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A Christmas Delayed to a New Year

 

 

Three Gourmet Chefs Serve Dinner!

Our son and grandgirls arrived January 1^st, 2016 to celebrate Christmas and to welcome in the New Year.

Testing a New Back Roll

There was one hot political discussion.  Gifts were exchanged with lots of laughter,  there were giggles trying out a new exercise thing, and my Star Wars pet robot is now up and running and making R2D2 sounds while bumping into things. The grandgirls put that together since I am technologically challenged.

They were full of happy surprises too, and as I sat back, pampering the poor old Big Foot, I was amazed to watch “the kids” cook a whole meal for our family.  That was a first!

The Grandgirls Cooking

Mongolian Chicken from an online recipe was the challenge that required dedicated chopping and mixing. I was stunned by the sight of the three working together so harmoniously in the kitchen – no longer babies but grown women.

“But, how good could this meal really be?” I wondered.  An hour went by and there were some delectable aromas drifting around.

Suddenly there we were having the most delicious family dinner!

How could this be?  How could they have grown up so quickly?

What happened to the babies who used to play jacks with me on the kitchen floor?

About the 3^rd day we began to run out of “vittles” and planning a visit to the market.  “We’ll go,” the kids all chimed and son and the three first went running for exercise on the Chessie Nature Trail and then to the store to replenish the food stock.

We played Guesswork  for more howling and laughter and  watched four or five old Star Wars films to prepare for going to the newest release in town (Lexington, Virginia).

There was something about this Christmas delayed, combined with welcoming in the New Year, that is “one for the books” or in this case, one for the blog, to be remembered for a long time to come.

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Locked in a Bathroom for Thanksgiving

This is Chicha Bonita, a very cute old lady pup who loves people.

She was the Welcome Receptionist as we celebrated Thanksgiving with friends in Lexington, Virginia.

Bill and I met a whole passel of new and interesting people there.

And by the time the turkey got to the table, we loved it all – the people, the food and the party that was getting louder and louder.

We missed our family and friends who live “out west”.

We missed our grandgirls.

And it felt strange not to be hosting the great event.

But even though we were a little shy at first, I suddenly turned around to see Bill slouched on the couch watching football with the guys.  And next time I looked he was laughing and talking and making everybody else laugh too.

I was still feeling a little shy though,

at least until a SOS Thanksgiving trauma

when I managed to lock myself in the bathroom!

The door would not open, period!

Really?  How mortifying!  How long would I have to stay in there?

I pounded but no one heard.  They were all either in animated conversation or cheering.

Well, they would surely miss me at dinner

and notice the empty seat at the table wouldn’t they?

I was contemplating climbing out the window into the cold night.   Nah.  Too dark. Too cold.

I kept pounding and wrestling with the doorknob.

Finally there was a calm comforting voice on the other side of the door.  “Don’t worry,” said the voice, and “Does anyone have a credit card?”

Was he planning on buying his way in or what?

“There is a tiny little latch to the side of the doorknob,” said the voice.  “Lift it.”

With some concentrated effort I lifted the latch.  And the door magically opened to one of the family’s handsome sons.

“My hero!” I said.  “Thank you for setting me free.”

And though I was tempted to swoon, I started laughing out loud instead.

How unglamorous to be locked in a bathroom during Thanksgiving festivities!

But with that, I was suddenly relaxed, happy, and ready to party!

Not counting that red-faced predicament, it was a traditional Thanksgiving –  a delightful, everything-you-would-expect Thanksgiving to be and more.

It was a wonderful group of giving loving happy people full of laughter, stories and the joy of sharing.  And by the way, the food was fabulous too.

A  special thank you to our lovely friends for taking in two more “strays” (Bill and me) to join in that celebration and Thank you Chicha Bonita for presiding.

 

 

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A One-Foibled Woman’s Shameful Secret

Photo from http://thepennyhoarder.com

Being a perfectly perfect person in my own eyes (if I don’t look in the mirror too often), I hate to admit I have certain FOIBLES.

Actually, there is only one real foible and the secret is now being shamefully announced through cyberspace.

Please do not judge this harshly but,

I DO NOT LIKE TO SHARE POPCORN!

IN FACT, I HATE SHARING POPCORN!

Perhaps this sounds selfish.

Yes, it really is selfish.

But consider this from my perfectly perfect point of view:

1. Hands carry germs and if you are germaphobic (like moi),
2. Sharing anything with germy hands involved is HORROR-FYING.
3. I like to eat the WHOLE Small, Medium, or Large size bag of popcorn all by myself.  I LOVE popcorn!  I want it ALL!
4. The noise created by strange fingers dipping in is maddening.  I want to listen to the movie UNDISTURBED, preferably in solitary confinement (alone with my popcorn bag).
5. Protecting territory or personal space (that popcorn bag) is essential to maintaining mental health.  I read that somewhere and it certainly does apply to popcorn bag holders.
6. And never mind “pass the popcorn please.”  Courtesy does not help.  You are still an invader, a noise maker, and undoubtedly carrying the flu virus!
7. Coming for a visit?  Now you know to stay clear of the One-Foibled-Woman when there is popcorn involved!.  Ignore this warnng at your own peril.
8. The popcorn is MINE!  Why am I expected to share it and made to feel guilty if I don’t?
9. But I ask you fellow bloggers, isn’t there something admirable about a woman with only one foible?
10. And do you think blogging is beginning to take its toll on my perfectly perfect one-foibled life?

From http://www.vocabulary.com/dictionary/foible :  Sometimes a foible helps make a person who they are, even if the foible, or weakness (“feeble” is a close relative), is a little odd. Synonyms for foible in a negative sense are “failing,” “shortcoming,” and in a more positive sense “quirk,” “eccentricity.” It can likewise be annoying or endearing. Most people have a foible, or idiosyncrasy, that stands out to others, but interestingly, a person rarely sees his or her own characteristic foible.

 

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“Prost” My Friends!

Farewell to Germany!

“Prost” my friends!

Here’s to Germany and

all its sights, sounds, and tastes,

to the beer and pretzels,

and Octoberfest toasts

 to drifting along soft rivers,

past castle and church,

 to storybook streets and violins,

sliding past towers of ancient dreams,

and holding sweet memories of breathtaking scenes.

Farewell to Germany!

I’m going home.

I’m going home.

From: http://www.reuters.com
Visitors toast each other on a sunny day during Oktoberfest in Munich REUTERS/Kai Pfaffenbach

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The Shock and Awe of Silence

Hurrah!  This is not about Germany, and of course we are back in Virginia.

In spite of falling asleep at odd times for close to a week, I am semi alert and almost fully functioning.

Next:  A Family Visit

And having emerged from tracking in the footsteps of the ancients, I am  now enjoying the excitement of a visit from our son and three grandgirls.

They are volatile, young, fun, and sort of tornadic.

A Bear Stops By for a Look

To add to the excitement, a bear came for a visit too and my middle grandgirl, Kendall, fearlessly dashed out on the deck to get a picture!  The bear admired her beauty for a minute and then headed for the woods.

Celebrating Birthdays

Two of the three girls share close together birthdays, so we are celebrating those too.  Their birthday dinner request is always for Hungarian Paprikash, a kind of stewed chicken with “knuckles.”

When my brother and I were little we could not pronounce the word  Nokedli (little dumplings) so we called them Knuckles, and that stuck (the word, not the dumplings). And I still cannot pronounce Nokedli.

On a sad note:

Our old friend, Buddy died while we were in Germany and today was his Celebration of Life.  Buddy did not want us to mourn but to remember him with happiness.  We loved him so and had so many years of grand laughter and shared kindness.  The memories are many and we are grateful for that friendship and to continue it now with his daughter, Pam and the rest of his family.

Bill and Buddy

To the Drive-in Movie

This evening our son and grandgirls are headed for Hull’s Drive-In Movie Theatre.  Remember those?

Tonight’s weather prediction is for FROST!   I will stay home in a warm place for dozing and predict they will not make it through the first feature.

Virginia Safari Park

 

Safari Park

Tomorrow is dedicated to pumpkin carving and a traditional visit to Safari Park, where we have been going since the girls were little.  No visit is complete without high pitched screaming in the car when an emu or other big critter sticks its head through the window for a little more snacking!

The Shock and Awe of Silence

When everybody leaves our home and life returns to a normal routine, I may be accosted by the shock and awe of silence.  But for now, it feels like an extension of our vacation and a time to contemplate the joyful ties of family and friends.

 

 

 

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Food for the Soul

There is a lot to see in Germany, many places to visit, much history and charm, but there is something utterly irresistible about German beer, bread, chocolate, cheese, and pastries!

Here, a bakery window holds self-indulgent memories.

 

 

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On Meeting Strange Men in Exotic Places

Most days I amble around town unrecognized until someone cries, “Hi! How are you?”  That calls for delay and catching up and is part of the whole great thing about living in rural Virginia.

It is rare however, to be heartily greeted by complete strangers.

In the last few days, undoubtedly due to my astounding beauty I have garnered the attention of MEN.  Or maybe this is happening because I look motherly old helpless tired  safe?

It all happened first at Costco in Harrisonburg, Virginia.  It was our twice a year visit to a big store in a bigger city, and talk about exotic places!

Bill was perusing the bakery section.

I was studying  ingredients and drooling over some mini organic oat cake muffins

called Vegan Aussie Bites!

Maybe the drooling was the attraction?

Photo from: http://ohmyveggies.com/vegan-aussie-bites/

As I resisted the idea of buying anything sweet (talk about noble!), a very tan hippie-ish looking fellow walked alongside me and expounded upon how much he loved those little cakes and how, “I can’t keep my hands off them.”  Still feeling astoundingly beautiful, do you suppose he meant “me” and not “them?”

“Good for you,” I said, clutching my purse which was safely cross-body slung anyway.

As I furtively looked around for Bill to come to the rescue, I noticed my devoted spouse was aware of the exchange, but he was even more immersed in studying some big luscious bear claws than in rushing into any rescue efforts.  Such are the perils of a long marriage.

As it turned out, the strange fellow was just friendly and as he kept nattering away on the merits of the mini cakes,  I determined he was harmless.

I also determined men are more interested in pastries than in elderly women.

However, he did see me drooling over those oat cakes too, so I could not blame him for experiencing unrequited love.

MAKING FRIENDS AT CHECK OUT TIME

Even though Bill and I managed to bring home a carload of “essentials” from Costco that equated to spending a carload of money, I still had to go out for groceries again the very next day.

Bill keeps telling me our food bill does not go down even with all the Costco savings.  Maybe that’s true, because there I was in a regular grocery store again stocking up on all the things we forgot the day before.

And in the check out line ANOTHER STRANGE MAN STRUCK UP A CONVERSATION!

No, it wasn’t the same man.

And I don’t think I was drooling.

 I was simply unloading stuff from the shopping cart onto the moving conveyor belt.

The new fellow began by saying, “I never check the length of check-out lines.  I check out the checker and I always choose this particular lady who knows how to get the job done.”

I smiled and said, “Good for you.”   You may have noticed, I am not too vocal when meeting strange men in markets.

The stranger  went on to say, “I am 68 years old and going for a Bachelor’s degree online and I put up (preserved) 61 jars of garden fresh green beans, and  I am providing  home care and support  for my daughter and grandchildren.”  And while he never stopped talking he reached over and helped unload my groceries!

“Good for you,” I said again,

and of course, “Thank you.”

I don’t know if my reticence scared the two guys away but after engaging in conversation (theirs, not mine), they both quickly disappeared.  Where were they when I needed help loading the car?

Well, now they are fond memories (preserved) in my WordPress blog post of

Exciting Things that Happen to Elderly Beautiful Women in Grocery Stores

(a similar process to preserving green beans).

Please do not pity me for a boring life.

When you live in rural Virginia on the edge of a forest, with only Bill and the deer for diversion, being greeted by two old fascinating men in two days is as exciting as going on Safari!

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As High as an Elephant’s Eye

Virginia Farm Stuff

Virginia Corn Silk

Virginia Corn

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