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In our language, the meaning of 'hag' has been distorted. Among the Kells (my mother was Irish), it is the final stage in the life of a woman. There are three: The Maiden/Virgin, untaken, untamed, wild and free. She's full of fire, dreams, visions and kinetic energy. She is the Waxing Moon. The Matron, in the full maturity of her child-bearing years. She is the great earth mother, the lover, the comforter, the healer. She is the Full Moon. The Hag. Seasoned and wise in the ways of the world, she holds her blood and sometimes her tongue. She enjoys honor and respect among those who hold her favor, and fear/caution among those who have earned her ire. She is the Waning Moon. I take The Hag for Hag Struan, a character in James Clavell's novel Tai-Pan, my favorite of his works. The Hag was born a Brock, which made her marriage into the Struan clan a Hatfield-McCoy heresy. The Brocks and Struans were rival shipping magnates in Scotland during the early days of China trade. The Hag was widowed young and stepped to the helm of Struan shipping, to keep them on top of her birth family. She was a tough, clear-minded, straight from the shoulder kind of lady. I admired her strength, her dignity and her dedication to her family against all odds. I'd have a very long way to go, indeed, before I could be in her league, but the name inspires me and I aim to do her proud. *************** For God sent NOT his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved. [JOHN 3:17] Peace to All. The Hag ......................................  .......................................... |
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A Versatile Treat for the Season
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Dec 2, 2006 3:39 pm
Mood: happy,
441 Views
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According to a mystery novel I read on vacation a couple of years back, Friendship Cake: A Novel by Lynne Hinton, I am an "Ethnic" cook. That is, my hands are my measuring cups/spoons, and I cook by sight, so make allowance for that, please?
I hate all mechanized kitchen gizmos - food processors, blenders, choppers, slicer/dicers - you get the picture. Make allowance for that, too, please?
Res the cookies: Use your favorite flavor - so far, the only ones we've found that don't work are sugar wafers. The waffle cookie 'melts' in the batter and doesn't absorb the Khaluah well. My preference is Vienna Fingers but we used Nutter-butters this go-round.
Khaluah Balls
1 One Pound Pkg Cookies (any variety except sugar wafers)
1 Stick Soft butter or Margarine (have an extra soft stick handy)
1/2 to 1/3 c Khaluah (keep bottle handy, also. I don't measure.)
16 oz Pkg Baking Chips, any flavor (you may want the jumbo bag)
Desired Garnish: powdered sugar, chopped cashews, graham cracker crumbs, cocoa mix, colored sprinkles, etc.
Using your implement of choice, CRUMBLE the cookies into pieces resembling large tapioca (or pasta 'shells' ). ADD 1 stick of soft butter and mix to the consistency of graham cracker pie-crust (I use my hands). If clumps don't hold together nicely, add butter/margarine by the teaspoon until they do. POUR in Khaluah, one generous tablespoon at a time, and MIX until batter is very sticky and holds together in a large round mass. Depending on your preference, ROLL batter into balls, one- or two-bite size. PLACE formed balls on cookie sheet and REFRIGERATE at least one hour (overnight is fine, but not mandatory). MELT baking pieces in top of double boiler. DIP chilled Khaluah balls into melted coating. ROLL coated balls in garnish of choice. REPLACE on cookie sheet and CHILL for 30min (can stay overnight).
For gift-giving, layer in decorative tin or other container (coffee filters are the best dividers!), tie with the bow and Voila!
Consume with abandon! (BTW, has anybody seen Abandon, lately?) 
Good luck and happy giving, all Holiday Hosts and Hostesses!
The Hag
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Lady Lola Takes REVENGE!
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Nov 30, 2006 5:11 pm
Mood: mellow,
466 Views
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I came from the newly-cleaned kitchen, massaging Vaseline Intensive Care(R) into my hands, and plopped onto the sofa next to Paul. "That's it, me Bucko! The Khaluah(r) Balls are done and in the fridge, so we are ready!" He looked up from the CD collection from which he was making party selections, "So! I can sample some?" with SUCH an innocent grin. "Surely. I left a saucer-ful on the counter for you and Anna, if she wants some. Late as it is, they might cause her acid problems, though." "OK, I'll take them back and ask her," as he moved his storage case and stood up, I rose too, "And I am headed for a long soak before I go to sleep."
Entering the bedroom and turning on the lamp, 'what to my wondering eyes should appear' but Miss Lola in her accustomed place in the middle of my bed, contentedly washing up amid the stains of her sumptuous feast. She lifted ice-blue eyes to mine, and smiled fatuously (you know that when a cat looks you in the eyes and blinks, that's their way of smiling at you), then she glanced to my pillow. "No need to fret, I saved half for you." There, centered nicely just where my head would rest, were the remains of a half-consumed field mouse - the haunches and tail, to be precise. I proceeded into the bathroom, leaving her to finish her after-dinner ablutions.
Y'know that prodigious laundry I thought was finished?
It ain't!
"Never a dull moment" my friends, never!
Jesus is the Reason for the Season!
The Hag
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Gearing Up For Round 2
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Nov 27, 2006 11:38 pm
Mood: bouncy,
463 Views
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Brrrrr! It's a cold one here in the valley tonight, my friends, with an inch of snow predicted! Now, that's not real 'snow' and since the ground isn't frozen, it'll not last long, but the air is dank and chill and feels a lot colder than it is. I'm thunking through the last couple'a loads of laundry, sipping cinnamon-enhanced coffee with Christmas music on in the background. Lit a few candles around the room just so I can see fire and feel warmer.
Before going to work tonight, Paul gave Buddy a good bath and grooming, so he's feeling excited and energetic - wants outside so he can go roll in those nice, wet, nassssty leaves and bring it back into the house. I don't think so. When he goes out before bed tonight, I'm taking him on the leash.
Tomorrow I will be cleaning and getting the house ready for Anna's birthday party Thursday night. Friday is her birthday but work schedules prompted the early celebration. We're doing finger foods, crudites, assorted sodas (byob), coffee by the urn and assorted teas by the cup (choose and brew your own). Entertainment will be poetry readings and musical performances richly laced with crazy conversations. Just a laid-back kind of evening. I'm going to set out some extra comforters and pillows in case we have stay-overs, which I'm expecting.
I'm planning a Southwest Skillets brunch on Friday with another megabatch of those cheese and herb biscuits - then I'm going to crawl back into bed and sleep til I wake up. I'll spend the weekend getting ready to go back to work on Monday afternoon - and from there until the second week in January, it'll be a ride on the Tennessee Tornado! Krazy, kewel and so much fun - Lord! but it's great not to be young!
Hope your week is going well!
Jesus is the Reason for the Season!
The Hag
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Aaoooowwwwww!!!
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Nov 26, 2006 11:52 am
Mood: jubilant,
514 Views
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From the table groaning with the abundance of fabulous foods, I arise groaning with satisfaction. So much to enjoy, so much to be thankful for, so much to cherish.
**********
When my brother was a newlywed, it was important to Meredith that we have our family Thanksgiving with them, in their beautiful new apartment, tastefully decorated in Danish Modern. So, mother and I prepared side dishes and desserts, especially Jack's favorite, Pineapple Upside-down Cake and away we went. A splendid day it was! A perfect tender-crisp roast turkey with our classic home-made Southern cornbread dressing, the works. After this sumptuous feast, the men, with heaping platters for 'later', headed to the television set for THE GAME. We women sat, lingering over our tea, and continuing the conversations begun during the meal. After some time had passed, and the final refills had been poured, my aunt suggested, "Well, girls, it looks like it's time to clear the table, don't you think?" As always, I was a shade uncomfortable at family gatherings, and was overly eager to 'fit in'. I made a quick lurch to stand up, and in so doing, my foot caught the left leg of the table, which attached at a slight angle by means of metal clips, not screws, dislodging it completely. It was like a magician's trick, and no one was more astonished than I when the entire contents of the table: cloth, centerpiece, candles, food and dirty dishes slid to the dining room floor in one smooth motion - upsetting nothing but the candlesticks, which thankfully, had been blown out when the men left the table. "Boy! Elsie," quipped my sister-in-law, "when you get up to clear the table, sister, you clear her up in a hurry don't you?" I think, as long as Mama lived that story was told at every Thanksgiving Dinner thereafter.
**********
My husband and I had just announced our engagement when we went to Thanksgiving at his mom's house. After we'd eaten and Ron and I had tended to the clean up, he went into the living room and put on his favorite old rhythm and blues classics. We had just begun to dance when his younger brother came into the room. Tommy was 11 at the time and the baby of the family. Since she was now widowed and Tommy was her last chick in the nest, Jean was extremely protective of him, and both she and Ron were convinced that he'd not yet had an inkling of a thought about 'girls', being still deeply involved with his GI Joe's and DC comics. Ron's sister and I knew better, but couldn't convince either Ron or Jean. "Why don't y'all turn that mess off and put on some realmusic?", he asked. "Now, Tommy," Ron crooned, never missing a step, "this is real music. Someday, when you get your own apartment and want to seduce your girlfriend, this is just the kind of song to play for her." For about three slow beats, Tommy stood there looking Ron straight in the eye. "Hey, man, I don't care how much I like her, that chick ain''t gettin' no d--che in my apartment!" From their expressions, I thought Ron and Jean might faint. It was a real 'Kodak" moment!
**********
A few years ago, I was spending Thanksgiving with friends in Cincinnati. The meal was all but prepared, the turkey basting in its own fragrant juices, the whole house smelling of sage, pumpkin and cinnamon. I was preparing the filling for Deviled eggs when the phone rang. "Happy Thanksgiving from the Wilsons! This is Elsie!"
"Elsie! What'n the world are you doing there?"
"Uh, stuffing eggs?"
"Cool. This...this is Howard."
"Well, hell-O! We didn't know you were in town. I asked about you last night and Jan said they hadn't heard from you in awhile."
"Yeah, Well, I've been out of town, y'know, and I hate to write."
"Uh, OK. So, are you stopping by? Can we set a place for you at the table?"
"That's what I was calling about. I'd like to eat with you guys, if I could. I brought something for the meal - but you'll have to cook it for me."
"Of course you can spend the day with us, H., but I don't think you need to worry about bringing anything."
"Yeah, probably, you're right, but I've got this thing and if it's not cooked today, it's going to go to waste - so, is that OK?
"Yes, yes, certainly, just get your big beaut over here. Where are you anyway?"
"I'm at the gas station down on Woodland. I'll be there in a little while - if you're sure it's OK?"
"I'm sure, I'm sure! I'll tell Jan and Bill you're coming. They've gone over to pick up Bill's Mom. You may get here before they do."
"OK, see ya, bye."
A thousand questions buzzed in my head as I hung up the phone, but the catching up would wait. I poured a second cup of coffee and went back to my egg tray.
The something that had to be cooked turned out to be a real wild turkey - and it destroyed me! If you've never had one, it's a rare treat, indeed. Smaller than the yard-birds we're used to, it's all dark meat, much richer and better tasting than the usual 'drumstick' or thigh. He arrived within the hour of his call, so there was plenty of time to prepare his contribution to our feast. Never have I enjoyed a grander one.
**********
My favorite Aunt and Uncle had two families. The older of their two younger daughters started first grade the same September that the younger of the two older girls began her senior year in high school. Yeah. Their small town was a bedroom community to the city where I worked and attended college, so I developed a close relationship with the 'babies', because I spent almost every weekend in their home. In a few years we had several in-house jokes and shorthand comments that always brought a smile. One of them was that, when I was finishing one of my aunt's famous home-cooked meals replete with fresh vegetables from their garden, I'd say to Vickie, "Will you call a crane to come and life me out of this chair?" I knew she'd grown up when she got up from the Thanksgiving table and went to the phone to call her boyfriend. Her mother asked what she was about to do and she responded, "Well, I'm calling a crane to get Elsie out of her chair, of course."
**********
I'm glad so many of us enjoyed a celebration of plenty in good health, peace and safety. For those who were enduring grief or hardship, my prayers are with you for healing, health, hope and comfort in the days to come!
Blessings to all!
Jesus is the reason for the season!
The Hag
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CHILDHOOD THANKSGIVING
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Nov 22, 2006 6:06 am
Mood: thankful,
454 Views
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CHILDHOOD THANKSGIVING
I remember silver heads, humbly bowed in prayer,
I remember songs of praise, when the Lord was truly there,
I remember a gentlefolk who worked their lives away,
Convinced that One Great God above will make it right one day,
I remember country boards set with harvest's fare,
Garnered by those work-worn hands,
Clasped in faithful prayer!.
The Hag (c) 1997
May God bless each of you with health, peace, hope and joy on this wonderful Day of THANKSGIVING!
Of the many blessings this year has held for me, I think being reunited with Anna and Paul and being led to SFF are those I most cherish! You are appreciated, my friends, each and all.
GOD BLESS AMERICA!
The Hag
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SLOSHed
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Nov 21, 2006 3:58 am
Mood: amused,
417 Views
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NYC professor reconstructs hurricane that devastated the pilgrims...
Boston Globe Mon, 20 Nov 2006 11:39 AM PST
The winds whipped up to 130 mph, snapping pine trees like pick-up sticks and blowing houses into oblivion. A surge of water, 21 feet high at its crest, engulfed victims as they desperately scurried for higher ground.
Last year, Coch used information that he collected from detailed colonial journals to reconstruct the great hurricane. The 371-year-old data was brought to Brian Jarvinen at the National
Hurricane Center, where it was interpreted using the SLOSH (Sea, Lake and Overland Surges from Hurricanes) computer model.
***************
The complete article in the Boston Globe is quite a story. One of my best-loved books is an very old one titled When HARLIE Was One by David Gerrold. HARLIE was the first Human analog Robot with Life Input Equivalents - another fascinating (though fictional at the time) story. Anyway, it was the SLOSH that got me.
Oh, how I do love the Geeks and their Beautiful Minds!
Happy Turkey Week, Everyone!
The Hag
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FROM THE DRAGON
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Nov 20, 2006 5:44 am
542 Views
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MOOD: Contrite
What is it about blogging that inspires some of us to experience this desperate feeling that 'I have to catch up!', the minute we lose a little time here? Whatever it is, I've been pushing to 'get caught up' over the past few days as though this were the Bar Exams (Bar as in lawyers, not 'water'holes!). This has resulted in an unnecessarily curt, cutting and acerbic tone in some of my comments on your blogs.
The way I had come across was made plain to me last night when I discovered 84 Charing Cross Road free On Demand (one of my all time best loved movies) and watched it through three times. Anne Bancroft's character, Helene Haniff (a real person and the story is hers), showed me my attitude and behavior as surely as King David was confronted with his sin by the prophet Samuel.
From a very young age, I've been made aware of my proclivity to express my opinions too stridently and too dogmatically. I work daily at staying on the lookout and try always to be mindful of my problem and "to speak my truth in love" (Ephesians 4:15). Even so, I cross the line every now and again, especially
when I've been sitting in front of this thing too long, as has been the case for the past few days - so Mia Culpa! I beg your
forgiveness for my critical, acid tongue. I hope my comments have been such that it's clear that my opinion is aimed at a situation and never at a person.
Humbly begging your pardon, I thank you for your time and patience.
Respectfully submitted,
The Hag
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Friends In The Business
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Nov 15, 2006 11:54 pm
Mood: contemplative,
637 Views
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Each time I sit down in a restaurant and hear the words, "I'll be your Server this evening," five amazing women come to mind. Two have gone home already, three are no longer working, but all devoted their lives to their customers in the food service
industry. This is a tribute to three of them:
When the little eatery that had been my best-loved haunt for 30 years closed, I moved my patronage to one of similar size and vintage that was on my way home from work. There, I met DENISE. Denise's husband is a heart patient and has diabetes. They have an adult daughter cared for at home, who's been house-bound all her life due to birth defects. Wanda (42!) is bed-confined, only able to sit in her wheel chair for a very short time on special family occasions. Denise gets no benefits, no sick pay, must schedule her doctor's appointments after closing at 3 p.m., then return to do her clean up.
When they switched from fountain to canned drinks, the owner at first agreed that Denise could have the aluminum cans, since she and her husband collected them for the redemption value. Shortly after the change, however, the owner took them all for himself - without even offering to share them, knowing how dire were her circumstances. The restriction that most infuriates me is that Denise is not even allowed off when her daughter has to be taken to her regular check-ups - her husband, Glen, has to do it. This is awkward and difficult for both father and daughter. Wanda needs and wants her mother with her, of course.
Glen brings Denise to work at 5:30 every morning. He goes into the restaurant with her, to make sure it's safe, because this concerns her. He brings the heavy items up front from the walk-in and helps with setting up. They try to finish in time to breakfast together before he leaves for his own job 7:00. Denise serves as breakfast cook, server, and cashier until the grill
cook arrives at 11:00 to be ready for lunch. Denise then only has to be server and cashier until closing at 3:00 in the afternoon. After which, she does all the closing clean up and setting up as much as possible for the next day. Additionally, she may be called into service at any time to prepare a hundred gallons or so of tea and/or coffee, roll silver, and even work overtime or on her day off in the owner's catering service. Seldom is my friend at work less than 12 hours per day (frequently it's 14) but she is
paid only for the hours the restaurant is open for business. In the 17 years that she's worked under the 'new' owner (after 25 years with the original), Denise has gotten one raise. She now earns a whopping three dollars per hour (excluding meager tips).
As a young mother in her late teens, GERTRUDE went to work in the old Farmers' Market building on Market Square, in 1949. This was where everyone came to buy and sell their home-grown produce and there was a food court, serving made-from-scratch sandwiches and plate lunches. Gertie worked there and continued in the employ of the same family for the next forty years. She and the grill cook arrived at the restaurant at 4:30 a.m. to set up for the day. She made fresh, Southern-style biscuits, sausage gravy, hash-brown potatoes and did the prep-work for the lunch menu. Her work-day ended at 3:30 p.m. Eleven hours of being constantly on her feet on the concrete floor, her 'lunch break' literally snatched between serving customers.
Upon her 'retirement' when the restaurant closed its doors, her closest 'buddy' and coworker called their favorite news crew and the paper with the 'human interest' story of Gertie's long tenure of service. She was thrilled by the coverage and the well-wishers brought in by the publicity.
For several years before she died, I'd watch her near the end of each month, as she'd sit down at the kitchen table with her medicine bottles and her calendar. "If I only take my blood pressure medicine every other day, I'll have money for the heating oil; if I take my heart medicine twice instead of the
prescribed three times a day, that'll take care of the electric." She received her husband's pension from his years of working with the railroad, which helped, because after having worked in one establishment for more than half her life, she was making less than half the minimum wage (excluding tips).
On her last Christmas, she was extremely ill. One evening her grandson came from the mailbox with an envelope containing a check for $300 from her former employers. She opened the card, saw what was inside and began to cry. "Oh, Granny", Allen said, "don't cry. They just want you to know they still love you." From where she lay flat of her back, Gert cut her eyes up at him, and that healthy, strong young man took two long steps back from her bedside. Then, very quietly, she said, "They've not given me a damn thing! I earned every penny of this a dozen times over and don't you ever forget that."
CAROL (Gertrude's daughter) went to work with her mother after school and on weekends (they were open seven days a week) when she was ten years old. Too young to be seen out front, she stood on a box at the kitchen sink washing dishes. Carol made daily dining a mini-vacation and a delight. I was working third shift at the hospital - decades before 'working from home' would be a reality. Each afternoon, about 2 p.m., I'd
settle in at 'my' table with a book or paperwork of some sort. I never had to say a word. Carol would bring my coffee immediately, and about ten minutes later, a steaming plate of the day's best offing would be set in front of me. I was nowhere near awake and this relieved me of the decision-making effort. When I'd finished, Carol would take a cigarette break and
join me for ten minutes, knowing I'd stay, drinking coffee
and reading, until closing time at 4 p.m. (They underwent extensive remodeling, changed the name of the restaurant and cut back to a five-day, fifty-hour week in the early 1970's).
Carol's tour of duty in this establishment lasted until she was in her mid-40's. Incredibly, she too had been there 30 years. It ended when she slipped in spilled grease in the kitchen, shattering a kneecap that required surgical repair. When she submitted the forms for her Workmen's Compensation application, the owner of the restaurant bribed the doctor to report the injury as non-work related. No, I can't prove
this, but I am not the only one who knows it happened. After her first examination, the doctor told Carol there was no doubt as to the cause of her injury, and Workmen's Comp would cover the cost.
When she became old enough to work the floor, Carol didn't lose hours in the kitchen, as Gertie had, so she was able to exceed Gertrude's wages, via tips, but like her mother, in all her years of working there, Carol was never paid even half the minimum wage. Over time, Carol's health problems worsened. She developed smoke-related COPD among other complications
and died at 52.
RATIONALE: Granted, these are small, unique, individually owned restaurants/ cafes. They have neither the resources nor the personnel of the (inter)national franchises. Although I'm always aware that the giants hide evils just as ugly. Those who agree to the terms of employment under which they are hired
must bear some responsibility for their circumstances. These enterprises do, however, provide their owners with a decent income, increasing prosperity, the means to send their children to college, to enjoy a two-week vacation each summer - during which the restaurant is closed and their employees are not paid for the enforced time off. I strongly believe in and fully support the right of every professional person to reap the rewards of the investments they made in getting their education, working their way up to gain practical job knowledge, the years of hard work
establishing a successful business, the risks, responsibilities and especially the losses due to employee petty theft, poor performance, and all the rest of it. Yet, among those responsibilities - and very near the top, IMO - is the absolute obligation to reward an honest day's work with an honest day's wage, especially in the face of decades of loyal, dedicated
service. The businesses to which I refer would not have been what they were without the bone-deep sacrifices made by these courageous, unsung heroes. I can appreciate the need and reason that food service wages may not equal minimum wage standards, but when the discrepancy is this severe, it becomes nothing less than indentured servitude. It is legal abuse and it is wrong.
"If you can't afford to leave a tip, you can't afford to eat out. Have supper at home." - Daddy's Wisdom
[I know this runs lengthy for some of your tastes. I understand that. Not long ago, Destiny's blog "To Insure Proper Service" brought these and other friends to mind. I couldn't comment at the time. This is my attempt to supply some small part of the recognition they have so richly earned. Especially Gertrude.
"And I will restore to you the years that the locust hath eaten...",
- Joel 2:25
It ain't too late, friends. No matter what has happened, with God, it ain't too late. That is a promise.
BTW, Queen Lola is perched in her accustomed place, atop the high back of this chair, just above my head - so, all is back to normal in her little world.]
Thanks for your time, my friends. Visit often.
Joy in Jesus!
The Hag
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A Non-Blog Bulletin
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Nov 6, 2006 5:48 pm
Mood: pleased,
598 Views
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Greetings, Everyone!
Just discovered I have an SFF mailbox full of winks and views from folks wanting to converse. This is wonderful, though I confess to being a little nonplussed by the number of visitors. As you note, I'm a standard member, so what you'll need to do is email me via SFF and we can go from there.
QUICKER METHOD: I'm running down the handles list, looking for blogs - because that's still where I spend most of my time. However, if you don't blog, there's a great in-depth conversation going on at Rubenesque Women of the World, which is a discussion group and that's my second stop when I'm on SFF.
My system is too slow for live chat, and I really don't care since that's where 99.9% of the trouble seems to start.
Thank you, indeed, for your interest. I look forward to hearing from you, or SEEING YOUR FACE on my blog or RWoW! For now, have a great day!
Joy in Jesus!
The Hag
***************
To my already well-known friends, I'm working on my next blog. Should post later tonight or tomorrow.
Hugs to all of you. YOU ARE APPRECIATED!
Joy!
The Hag
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Gettin' Outta the Cathouse!
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Nov 2, 2006 5:39 pm
Mood: happy,
586 Views
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Hi! Everyone,
I'm pleased that you enjoyed hearing of our little skirmish on Tuesday night. We only had about a half-dozen trick-or-treaters, Shirl. It was, all in all, a very quiet night around here. Not at all what I was used to when I was in Knoxville. There, in our neighborhood at least, Halloween night was dangerous.
Lola is very sweet, Leslie. I gave her some of the special liver treats that she loves, to apologize and make up. She turned her nose up at them and marched away, giving me the cold shoulder! Very regally offended.
It was an expression for the cat journals, Alisa, it truly was. Had we been able to catch it on cam-corder, I'd be sending it to America's Funniest Home Videos and making us some extra Christmas money!
Lola is beautiful, but I must confess, friends, these are purloined pics from a Cat Fanciers website. Lola has the dark seal points, but her body color is more smoke than cream, this makes those vivid indigo eyes of hers stand out all the more. She's mesmerizing, Ireland. I love the pic with your baby, too! We have some good pics of Lola, Buddy and other denizens of the household, but I've not finished filling the 'roll'. My bad! Workin' on it, folks, workin' on it.
I agree with you, and really hated depriving her of her catch, Teresa, but it wasn't too cruel. Lola has a very sensitive stomach. She can't even handle much of the real-meat cat-foods. The hard-won treat would've made her sick, I think. Glad you could share our humorous adventure.
There are a few coffee spots on the throw, Leah. A cold-water sponging took care of most of them. It'll get washed as soon as I finish the edging - then, during the bowl parties, holiday repasts, and just the normal scarfing, it'll get a real baptism of hard use! Seeing the first few is a trial to the spirit, but Hey! I make 'em to be used and as long as it keeps our feet warm, I'll not complain. Happy you stopped by!
Naturally lowered blood pressure, lively entertainment and unexpected fresh (!) gifts are just a few of the joys of cat ownership, Patricia. The ones I liked least were the lovely live garden snakes our outdoor cats used to bring me in the spring and summer when I was still living at home. Great to see you here!
***************
Well, good friends, Miz Lola is still highly miffed at me - but has mellowed to the stage where she's enjoying my punishments with relish. She's been de-clawed, and whenever I sit down she'll come the chair and "sharpen her claws" furiously against the side of it, looking me right in the eye and thinking, "This is exactly what I'd like to do to you, and you know it!" In the evenings, she approaches as if she's going to make herself comfortable on the chair-arm, as is her wont, then at the last second, she does a perfect pirouette, tail stiff with a shepherds' crook at the end and marches away: "And this is exactly what I think of you right now - so eat your heart out!"She still sleeps with me, though, but instead of cuddling, she curls herself on the foot of the bed and fusses at me as I'm trying to get to sleep! "You will hear me out, young lady, whether you want to, or not! Ya got that ?!?
They were created to show us ourselves and to give us joy!
Thanks for sharing our merriment, Dear Friends! Stop again soon and laugh often!
The Hag
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| |
|
|
|
1
|
2
|
3
|
4
|
51
|
6
|
7
|
8
|
9
|
10
|
11
|
12
|
13
|
14
|
15
|
16
|
17
|
|
181
|
19
|
20
|
21
|
22
|
23
|
24
|
25
|
26
|
27
|
28
|
29
|
30
|
31
|
|
|
