A flea market???

 My husband and I have embarked on the adventure of having our kitchen remodeled.  It sounded fairly straightforward when we started planning the project.  In consultation with our contractors, we selected new flooring, cabinets, counter tops, paint and trim colors, drawer and door pulls, sink, faucet, over the stove microwave and other details.  We decided to keep our refrigerator, stove and dishwasher which are fairly new and work well.  Next Tuesday they will come and start to tear out the old cabinets.  This is sooner than we expected, so we spent most of yesterday and today taking everything out of our current cabinets.  We decided that the best way to handle this was to pile everything on the big table in the formal dining room.  As I write this we have about three quarters of the cabinets cleared out, and have stuff piled high on the dining room table, chairs and two card tables, plud some overflow in the family room.  This is only the stuff we decided to keep.  Some things got pitched.  We are trying to be thoughtful after all, and some things still in good condition were donated.  I mean, how many spaghetti strainers does one family need?  We even discovered some things that neither of us remembered ever seeing before, so no sentimental attachment there.  Would anyone like a "Bob the Builder" child's plate?  Right now our dining room looks like a huge stall in a flea market.  i am trying to reassure myself that we are getting the same number of cabinets (some with nice pull put drawers) that we have now so we will be able to fit in everything that has come out.  What goes up must come down, so what comes out must go in, right?

 I took these pictures this morning.  There's much more stuff there now.  

the perfect hat...

My west coast brother informed me that today is "National Hat Day." While I don't regularly wear hats these days (fake fur trimmed hood yes, hats no) there was a time in my life when hats were a really big deal.  When I was in my pre-teen and early teen years my mother and I would make at least two trips a year to the big city of Fort Wayne to do some shopping.  This almost always involved buying new hats for the season.  Spring and fall each year the stores introduced the 'color' for that season.  One year the fall color was royal blue, very pretty.  I believe my hat that year was a pill box style.  Every Sunday all of the women from toddlers on up came to church wearing hats and gloves, and carrying purses of course.  Even in the summer time.  In fact I remember my father teasing us once about wearing gloves in the summer.  White sheer light weight gloves of course, with little ruffles at the wrist. As I've grown older, I think I've come to understand why hard working women of my mother's era and earlier wore gloves to church and other fancy occasions.  It was to cover up those aging work worn hands.  Hummm.  Just looking at my hands here in the bright light of my desk lamp, perhaps I'll go back to wearing gloves to church, and, while I'm at it, why not a hat?  Does anyone know where I can buy a hat?

really fine...

 My spouse and I eat out fairly often, probably once a week at least, but that's just eating out.  This evening, to celebrate our first anniversary, we indulged in $$ FINE DINING $$.  Instead of our usual haunts, which all have really good food, we went to Eddie Merlot's.  We dressed up and everything.  The food was excellent (best filet I've ever had), the service impeccable, soft lighting, beautifully set tables and a very nice but not overly attentive waitress.  We were seated at a U shaped booth where we sat side by side and observed all the action.  No scooting around the bench seat though.  When we were led to our table, the hostess pulled the table completely out, so we could be seated, then pushed it back in place in front of us.  The procedure was reversed when we were ready to leave. It was all in all a delightful experience with only two jarringly funny notes.  The carts laden with meals that were pushed around the room were loud.  It sounded like they had wooden wheels reverberating on the lovely hardwood floors.  My husband said it reminded him of scenes in old movies where people in carts were being hauled off to the guillotine.  It didn't happen often but we thought it was pretty funny in that oh so lovely setting.  The other incident happened as we were getting ready to leave.  We realized that we didn't have anything smaller than a ten dollar bill with which to tip the coat check person, so we asked our waitress if she could get us change - two fives for the ten.  Poor lady, I think she thought we were going to leave her a $5 tip.  But my wonder spouse came through with his usual generosity, so she probably brightened up after we left and she saw her actual tip.  After all that, we came home and had champaign to toast our new year.  Cheers everybody!!

cheers...

 This evening my spouse and I drank a toast of delicious champagne in beautiful Waterford crystal flutes that we received as wedding gifts last year.  The toast was to a year just finished (our first as husband and wife) and to a new year, beginning tomorrow, with just as much joyous fun but, hopefully, a little less drama and better health.  Last year at this time, I was so sick that I could barely stand up for our wedding vows.  I know I was there.  We have pictures to prove it, but two days after the wedding I ended up in the hospital for ten days with acute kidney injury and covid.  Three months later, I came out of the brain fog of long covid and and was able to function normally.  During all this time my spouse took care of me, while moving all of my belongings from my apartment to our house.  No surprise that I call him my Wonder Spouse.  So here we are now, on the brink of year two - our anniversary is actually tomorrow - and we are both healthy and excitedly looking forward to taking this next year a day at a time, because what else can you do? 

memories of home

 My west coast brother informs me that today is "National Glazed Doughnut Day" and "National Hot Tea Day."  Two absolute staples of my growing up years.  My mother made the world's strongest coffee, which my father seemed to love, but she was convinced that coffee was only for adults (and hers probably was).  Tea, on the other hand, was perfectly acceptable for children to drink, so our morning brew was hot tea with milk and sugar.  I'm proud to say that I was able to continue the tradition with my children, and even my grandchildren when they lived with me.  And they seem to have suffered no ill effects. Glazed doughnuts, on the other hand, were a summer treat.  

Back in the day we lived in the country, and quite a few delivery trucks were part of our routine.  If Mom put a certain card in the front window, the dry cleaner's truck would stop and pick up whatever we needed cleaned.  The "Jewel Tea" truck would stop by regularly with spices, teas, coffee, extracts and other items.  We even had a truck that would stop by a few times a year with fish on dry ice for sale.  But most wonderfully, the Nichol's Bakery truck would come once a week.  During the school year we bought bread but in the summer, when the Nichol's Bakery truck came, Mom would buy the usual bread order, but also a box of one dozen sugar glazed doughnuts.  In my memory this was always on a Wednesday morning.  As soon as the truck left, we would have a midmorning snack of milk (it was too hot for tea) and doughnuts.  I would like to think that we saved one for my father, but between the four of us (Mom, my two brothers and myself) we ate the whole dozen.  I don't know if Dad even knew they existed. In case you're wondering if we were all fat little piggies, no we weren't.  We all grew long and lean and worked and played outside enough to burn off all the calories.  In fact, I'm not sure if we had even heard of calories back then.  Such a blissfully ignorant existence.  

A snowy day

Today was a beautiful sunny day with a fresh three inch cover of snow all over.  Simply sparkling!  It was also, according to my west coast brother, "Girl Hug Boy Day."  Now, I'm far beyond considering myself a girl but there was a boy I would have liked to hug today.  Not my spouse.  Don't get me wrong, my spouse is very huggable and we hug often but this was different.  After breakfast this morning my spouse announced that he was going to go out and shovel the snow from our walks and driveway.  I was reluctant to see him do this, even though I know he's in great health.  I was unable to help due to my recent sternum injury.  He assured me he would take frequent breaks and off he went to get his coat and boots on.  Just then the doorbell rang, and there stood a strapping youth (the boy I wanted to hug) who offered to shovel all our walks and the driveway for $25. I'm not sure what the going rate for snow removal is but this seemed reasonable to us and we accepted his offer.  An hour later he was finished.  He did such a fine job that we asked him to come back anytime it snows again this winter, and he suggested that he also come back and rake our leaves in the fall.  We have his name and phone number, know that he lives about a block away from us, and best of all, he's a freshman in high school so he will be around for a while.  Isn't it good to know that there are hardworking teens out there?  

before

                                                                        after

It's thriving...

 Today (thanks again to my west coast brother for the information) is "House Plant Appreciation Day."  It's also "Peculiar People Day" but I don't think that means that people who have house plants are peculiar.  I have a house plant (singular) while my spouse has five house plants.  Just one more way that we are a blended family.  I have had my house plant since 2006.  I'm not sure if that is a good life span for a house plant but it seems to be doing ok.  It's been with me through home ownership and apartment living, where it spent summers on the balcony, and now in a house again.  Actually, my house plant is really living the good life here.  My general philosophy of plant care amounts to watering them if they gasp as I walk by.  This may explain why I was down to one house plant when I moved here.  My wonder spouse, on the other hand, is a very conscientious plant care provider.  He waters them all, two times a week, and adds plant food to the water on a regular schedule.  My house plant has never had it so good.  For that matter, neither have I.  Except for his irritating habit of winning at Scrabble (yes, again this evening) my spouse really is a good guy. He may be a little peculiar at times, but aren't we all?