Alive Again

This flu bug is horrible. I have been fighting this stuff for almost a month. But, at last, I think I'm feeling better. I certainly hope this stuff is gone because I have lots of things on my list of "to do projects." I got up this morning to start that list. However, I decided to take my cup of coffee to the deck and enjoy the fresh air. Well, to my amazement, the birds are building nests and the buds of the trees and flowers are emerging from the days of dark winter. So, I decided to have another cup of coffee and just observe the wildlife in the yard. We have little sparrows building in two birdhouses on the deck and another pair in a birdhouse in the yard. These little guys have worked so hard gathering sticks, twigs and pine needles. They have made a hundred trips back and forth to their new homes. It is so relaxing just watching these little guys. I placed a dish of food close to each birdhouse, so they don't have to travel so far for food. I'm sure the little guys must be worn out from all the flying, fetching and building.

Well, I guess I better get up from my National Geographic morning and get to the "to do" list. Somehow, cleaning, laundry and working on a baby shower is not quite as exciting or relaxing as watching the little families make their new homes in the backyard. But, after a month, my house needs an overhaul. So, I'm back to my "to do" list.

The Dreaded Flu

GRRRRRR...I have been sick for two weeks and just cannot get rid of this stuff. Now you are asking, I'm sure, what does this have to do with treasured memories that you usually write about. Well, as usual, this experience brought to mind a special memory of my Dad.

When I was sick, as a little girl, Dad always made those days so special. It would usually start with a trip to the doctor, or at that time, a house call from the doctor. In any circumstance, Dr. Hodges, always gave children a note, on a prescription sheet, an order for a free ice cream cone at the local drug store. If I had to go to the doctor's office, we would always stop to get the ice cream. If Dr. Hodges came for a house call, my Dad would take the note to the drug store Mrs. Dowdy would put my ice cream in a takeout cup and send me a cone. Then when Dad got home, he would make my ice cream cone for me. My favorites were always the fudge ripple and whitehouse cherry....yummy.

Anyway, back to Dad. Each time I was sick, my Dad would always make me cream of chicken soup, with little oyster crackers for lunch. I thought the little crackers were the stuff. We usually only had regular saltines in our house. But, I didn't like breaking the crackers and getting those crumbs all over my hands. So, Dad would always make sure I had "baby" crackers, as he called them. He would always surprise me with new coloring books and the biggest box of of Crayola crayons. Sometimes, I would even get paper dolls. I would spend hours coloring , with each of my new colors and playing with my paper dolls. When it came time for bed, he or Mother would rub me down in "Save the Baby," and put me to bed. Dad would tuck the covers under my chin and around my body, which I didn't like and he would give me a kiss on the forehead. I still love kisses on my forehead.

Somehow, being sick as an adult is just not the same as when we were children. Not only is my Dad no longer with us, I certainly don't think my husband would think to bring me coloring books and crayons. It might really be good for us adults, if we would treat these sick days as kid sick days. So, if an adult loved one is sick, get them a coloring book, some crayons, remember it has to be the big box of Crayola, as well as chicken soup and don't forget the "baby" crackers. Serve them their soup, then tuck them in bed for a good night's sleep. But, remember, the most important part of all, is the kiss on the forehead. Thank you Daddy for such wonderful sweet memories.

Unexpected Snow Storm

We just experienced a wonderful unexpected snowstorm over the weekend. It began to snow about noon on Sunday and it continued to snow into the night Sunday night. When we measured on our deck, we had a little over eight inches. We lost power and phone service about 5:00 in the afternoon. It was dark and you could hear trees and limbs popping throughout the night. Needless to say it was a long night.

Upon awakening Monday morning, to my surprise, we had power. I immediately started a pot of veggie soup, as I love to cook when it snows. However, within 30 minutes, our wonderful power and phone were off again. Well, when the power is off, you have to be creative. I took the chafing dish and poured in my soup and it cooked throughout the day. We had hot chocolate, made in the old coffee pot, heated in the fireplace. We used our grill outside for other goodies. So, needless to say, we did not go hungry.

The prize of the day was snow cream. I went out to collect the snow in a dishpan. Mixed my evaporated milk, sugar and vanilla in with the snow and we had wonderful snow cream. Actually, we still have some in the freezer.

This snow cream brought back wonderful memories of my Grandpa Jess. These warm fuzzy memories, thank God, are still etched in my mind. I can smell the pipe tobacco that always surrounded him. The making of snow cream was one activity, I only shared with Grandpa. He would grab the metal dishpan and two huge spoons (the metal scoop like spoons that came with ice-cream back then) and out the door we would go. It seemed we always had to find the perfect location to gather the snow. Along the way, I would have show him how to make beautiful snow angels and throw snowballs at various objects in the yard, especially the chickens. However, I never remember throwing a snowball at Grandpa. Maybe I had been told not to do this, or maybe I just knew NOT to do it. Upon our return to the house, he would gather the vanilla, sugar and fresh milk and begin the mixing process. It had to be just the right consistency. We would eat on this snow cream all day. What a special memory and each time it snows, I think of my dear Grandpa Jess, who was a very resourceful man in his own right. He was a trapper and would sell his pelts to Sears. But, that is a whole different story. Thank you Grandpa for such sweet memories.