Last of the Peppermint Stick
A Marshmallow World (click on this title)
I went to take an ‘after trip’ nap and found I needed to finish putting away the basketed clothes from the dryer still on my bed.
The dryer had created static which is a nothing to me. I’m in the bedroom next to a bathroom you see.
This reminded me of a day a year or so ago when Kathy was complaining about the static in the dress she was putting on in the same bedroom and I told her to slap it up against the bathroom faucet. With questioning eyes, she did do it, and the static went to ground, and the dress hung freely.
Of course you can put it on first and then touch the faucet with your tongue if you want (or finger) and get the spark orrrrrrrrrr, just touch the garment before you put it on! lol
So, on that day she asked me how long I knew about that trick, and I said “Probably all my life!”
Then she puckered up and scolded “You mean we’ve been married all of these years, and I’ve had this same problem and you just got around to telling me?” !!!!!!!
So, now you know the story, and for all of you people that I’m married to somehow (there is more than one way to be married to women…. it’s a possession thing I think), I’m telling you now!
Touch the friggin’ garment full of static to some grounded plumbing close by before you put it on.
You have now been told.
And, if it generates it’s own static while you’re swishing, spray the dress with the magical anti-static atomized spray that is made from old plumbing parts (I guess)! LOLOLOLOL rdd
Read the posts, read the news.
FOX stuck on the same few people again. Round and round we go.
Today, I’m thinking about American farmers.
I think it was triggered by the empty shelves in Florida where the hurricane preparations are taking place.
The food chain is a dynamic thing and we must be smart enough to support the farmers closest to our own. Especially when it’s under attack by ignorant politicians connected to big money and politics, and a world taught to grow things better, with our help.
I’m not there nor am I a farmer, but I drove the roads, saw the cycle of growing food supplies, met the people and went to school with the kids that were agriculturally oriented.
Each farm is a manufacturing ‘plant’ with individual style.
They maintain their own equipment with well worn hand me down tools and assimilated hand me down skills, taken for granted and carried for a lifetime no matter where they go.
The educated ones improve their land, don’t waste, don’t pollute, and think ahead constantly. From farm to farm, you can see management differences and skill, failures and successes.
I don’t live there at the moment, but I do go back to visit and am forced to re-absorb.
A little slower pace, a familiar palette for my eyes and ears, the roots that grow steeples, corn, silos, green everything that has a purposeful life circle.
I miss that!
I have to consciously downshift from my protective city attitude to recalibrate so, in a few days, I can become comfortable and enjoy a dose of real earth time, surrounded by dirt instead of concrete.
I have to say … it’s good for the heart. rdd
My pie pastry with lemon
(if you get this right, I promise the flakiest dough you’ve ever made)
3 cups of flour
1 1/2 tbsp. of sugar
1 1/2 tsp of salt
1 1/8 cups of shortening
2 small eggs separated
1 1/2 tbsp. of lemon juice
3/8 cup of milk
Combine dry ingredients
Cut in the shortening
Combine the egg yolk, lemon juice, and milk
Stir into the dry ingredients with a fork to make a soft dough just enough stirring to make a ball.
Roll out the pastry between two sheets of waxed paper
as needed for bottom and top
Flute the edges and brush on the spoon whipped egg white
and sprinkle with cinnamon and sugar.
Don’t forget to slice in some steam release holes in the top crust for apple or cherry pie.
Instructive Creative Writing:
You’ve agreed to meet somebody 15 minutes from your home, you start early to make sure you are there when they are.
Over time, the occasional tardiness due to traffic, lights etc. is expected and met with understanding.
In more time, you notice the irregularity in their arrival times growing from five minutes to seven minutes until one day, after waiting twenty minutes, you call to make sure they weren’t in an accident.
The phone call comes back, “We’re on our way!”
Ten minutes later they arrive.
I waved, received my passenger, and drove away.
I was in no mood for conversation.
There are occasions when, if I had bitched, let’s say at the 15 minute mark, this 30 minute late mark, wouldn’t have happened!
Being nice and patient with people is a good thing … until it isn’t.
Sometimes I practice the art of ‘shut up’ and other tactical things that work to my advantage …, but in that bag, I have a special place for ‘Proper Bitching’!
When done right, it saves embarrassment, time, hard feelings, and mis-trust, far outweighing the mistake.
Having said that, I need to mention the nooooomerous times I hear them remark back “What’s amatter with him? He’s never like that!”
LOLOLOL … Yes I am! You just pushed too far. rdd