Morning Reflections and Observations

It's been real quiet on my porch lately. Guess I'm alright with the solitude as it has given me time to reflect and observe. This morning while I was sitting on the porch drinking my daily dose of caffeine and wondering about what to do for the day, my eyes were suddenly drawn to a duel.

It's the kind of duel where we mothers shudder our shoulders when we see it. A little baby was abducted. Now, before you go running to the phone to put out an all points bulletin-- wait to see what I have to say.

The commotion all started when the young mother took off for her morning work-- providing breakfast for her babies. They were all squalling up a storm, when all of a sudden-- a big swoop dove in. Yep, a red tailed hawk who lives back behind my house was also looking for his breakfast and spotted it.

He swooped right in and started tugging the little baby bird right out of the nest. He was pulling and the other babies were really crying at this point. It got the mama's attention. She comes flying in a very quick speed. Why, it was probably faster than Superman could have done it.

The hawk, with his breakfast secured in his claws, takes off. The mama bird chases him. She is yelling and saying all kinds of bad things about that intruder. Alas, she returned back to her nest empty clawed. No baby rescued.

Will she mourn the little tyke who had not had time to spread his little wings and fly? Will she stay closer to home to protect the others who are still in her nest? Now, I ponder while I finish the morning coffee.

Nature is fascinating to observe. Guess that is what I'll do today. What else will I see while I wait for my friends to show up?

Have a thoughtful day.

Miss Etta

No Show Snow and Eggnog

Mornin' my friends,

There it was on the six o'clock news last Friday. Snow and sleet forecasted again for our area. That was like the third time in 10 days. There I was, eagerly watching the radar screen to see if it would get here in time for more snowman building in the morning. Went to bed. Woke up-- no show snow.

As I was grumbling about not having a pretty front yard again, I got to thinking. And, then I got to laughing. Do you remember what it was like to have youngins in the house? It was always quite noisy, and that was a good sign.

When it got quiet for a spell, the old mama brain radar would sound and off. I'd go to seek and find. I remember one time when the mama radar went off. It was just too quiet for toddlers in the house. Well, guess what! They were quiet for a reason.

I went upstairs to be greeted by shouts of joy. "Look, mama," they shouted. "We're snowmen."

Snowmen indeed. They were covered in white---- white baby powder, that is. The oldest had climbed up on the bed and reached way over to the top of the dresser. She grabbed the baby powder and turned everyone, and everything, into snowmen. They were just so proud. Me? Not so proud.

After cleaning them up, I spent several hours trying to clean up all the "snow" which had fallen in the baby's room. As I recall, that room smelled like baby powder until the day we moved!

So, even though the weather radar ending up being quiet over the weekend, I spent many moments in happy snow memories.

Tried something new this morning. I decided I needed some eggnog before it went completely out of season. Since it really is too early to add the julep juice, I opted on adding a dash of Kahlua. Mmmmmmmmmmmm. So, I think I'll go sip on my eggnog and dream of snow and the days of the mama radar.

Talk with you later,

Miss Etta

Redundancy

Hey girls,

Miss Faye, seems to me that "nasty politics" sure is a fine example of redundancy. I've got a buncha kin folks who have run for office - all of 'em running successfully, regardless of how the vote count turned out. You know what I always say: when it comes to politics, sometimes the loser is the biggest winner.

If anybody happens to ask me (and it happens on the rare occasion), I tell 'em to run on the state or national level 'cause it's been my experience that the hometown folks remember every single little thing - and they hold onto a grudge like it was a bar of gold. As a rule, folks just don't seem to pay nearly as much attention to what's going on outside their backyard.

'Course the odd thing is that I've also found that people want to run for something on the local level 'cause they care about where they live and they want to have a positive impact on what goes on there. I can't explain it, I just know it's so.

I don't know. I just don't know.

I synonymize (I just made that word up, dontchaknow) power with politics, and power just does things to people. And it doesn't matter whether you win or lose the election 'cause let's face it: there's power in name recognition alone. It's like I've always said: Money (or you can substitute the word "power") brings out the BEST in people.

I say that and most people don't even pay any attention. They're so used to hearing folks say "Money brings out the WORST in people" that they just think they know what I said. But then I get the occasional person who realizes how I changed it and they either (a) correct me like I'm some moron who doesn't know a cliche from a voting booth or (b) ignore it completely or (c) ask me what on earth am I talking about. And since I can tell you girls are of the #c variety, I'm gonna' tell you that what I'm talking about is this: when people have money, they can either keep it to themselves and just go on being a nice person or they can try to make other people it that money without even salting it first. Me, I prefer what's behind door #a: they just keep right on being a nice, friendly, upstanding person, keeping their bank account balance to themselves.

I've got some other relatives who chose my preferred route. They lived well beneath their means, and when it came time that I had to take a more active role in their lives, that's when I found out just how far beneath their means they were living. It was interesting (we'll just choose to go with that word, though there are a host of other words running through my brain right now) watching how people treated this one relative in particular. She was old and lived in a plain house and drove an old, old, old car and had teeth that made her look British, and while a lot of people were kind to her, there were way, way, way, way too many who treated her with disdain - like they had "power" over her because she was old and looked so poor. Oh, if they only knew.

If they only knew.

It was kinda' entertaining, I must say. Was like watching The Emperor's New Clothes play out again and again. Them parading around like an emperor with their nose in the air like they were wearing clothes they knew she wished she had, when actually they were parading around buck nekkid and hairy.

But I'll tell you one thing that's The Honest Truth: it's nice having rich folks as ancestors.

Especially when they're nice, honest, loving, fun, good people who like to laugh, too.

Till next time,

Miz Vul

Squishy Squash

Miss Etta that okra bread sound interesting so I think I may just skitter round to the local food store and buy all the fixings. It might be good with some corn tossed into the mix, too. I never have been one to leave well enough alone, although I prefer to think of it as adding my own touch to every little thing. As they say, I make it my own.

With this crazy weather I don't know if I should be making chili or eating watermelon. Only in Georgia can you find weather that can't make up its mind from day to day.

And yes, Miz Vul, although you have come new to our little front porch, you are missed already when you don't add your two cents worth to our discussions. Looking for a yoga dvd is not excuse enough to ignore us unless you happen to get tied up in some knot while doing one of those crazy contortions. Just how does it make you relax to twist a leg behind your neck? I tried some classes and I kept falling over. The only animal that should practice standing with one leg in the air is a dog.

I am short on time but did want to at least say hello. I will try to catch up later this evening if life permits.

Miss Faye

Old Enough to Be Young

My, my. My face is turning red as yours should be, Miss Faye. Just know that I'm too young to be this old.

I recall when I was a child that my sister was only one year older than me. Apparently time passed by more quickly for her than for me because she has a child who is old enough to make her a grandma. Me? I'm much too young for any of that nonsense. I even told her so recently, too.

Speaking of age, one time my youngins asked me what it was like living with the dinosaurs. I told them they shouldn't call their father names! Hmmmmmppppphhhhhhh.

Okra Bread is so simple to make, although I'm not sure if I should share the recipe with you, after asking me a question that no polite southern gal would ask anyone Lawd, next you'll be trying to figure a way to get me to say it by asking who was the first president I voted for. Just know, it was a one term winner. Ok-- here it goes... Take another sip of Julep Juice and sit down so you don't miss it. I'm, oh, about...

Okra Bread

1 c. chopped fresh okra

1 c. chopped onions

2 eggs
1 c. chopped fresh tomatoes (or one can of tomatoes, drained)
1 box Jiffy corn muffin mix
Salt and pepper to taste

Mix above ingredients until it sticks together with muffin mix. Pour into greased pan. Dot with butter and bake at 375 degrees for 30-45 minutes or until brown.

Talk to you later. I've got to stop and have some more Julep Juice.

Miss Etta

So Glad To Be Here

Well, Misses Faye and Etta, aren't y'all the sweetest things? I sure do 'preciate that invitation. Just add another straw to that mint julep and scoot over cause I think I'll just take you up on it and come sit a spell on your v-porch.

As long as I don't wear out my welcome, that is.

Y'all sure are right about talent right here in our own backyard. Why just look at the Fayette Front Page. All those people doing all those talented things.

And it's nothing new to this area, either. Why this patch of red dirt we call home has been talented upon more times than I can count.

Take this one boy named B. W. Mersk. He hung around between second and third base on the school playground, leaning up against the little fence that surrounded the cesspool, separating it from the kickball field. Somebody'd really get their foot into a ball, and whoosh. That red school-issue ball would sail right over everybody's heads and thunk right into the cesspool. Quick as a flash, B. W. went wading in, treading where none of the rest of us dared to go. He'd fetch the ball, get back outside the fence, shake himself off pretty good, then roll the ball back to the pitcher and go on back to leaning and waiting on the next pretty good kicker to step up to the plate. That right there was what I call useful talent. Anybody who could go that close to the cesspool - let alone inside it - and not gag. Uh huh.

Now I got a husband who can tie a knot in a cherry stem with his tongue. And not even open his mouth too much. I been thinking about hiring him out for parties and such. He's a right outgoing type, and a little bit of pin money never hurt any of us. You know what I mean?

Got another relative who can lay down on the piano bench - her head close to the keyboard - raise her arms up over her face to the keyboard, cross 'em, and play the piano.

She really can.

Can play all sorts of tunes like that. That's not just talent - that's a nimble brain, too, dontchaknow.

Then there's my uncle who can make a dollar go further than from here to Australia and back. But I guess that's delving into a different column - one that's called something other than talent.

At least to hear his family talk, it is.

Ummm hmmmm.

Why just look at you and Miss Etta. All the talent that veritably flies right outta your fingertips daily. Y'all sling these words and thoughts together like nobody's business, and I'm here to tell you: that's talent.

Yes it is.

You are so right, Miss Faye: we don't have to trek all the way out to California to find talent. No, we sure don't.

But I tell you what: if you want to step outside our backyard via the internet, give this little nugget a listen:

http://www.songpeddler.com/JimWilson/GodsCricketChorus_JWilson.asp

It's a chorus of crickets singing.

I kid you not.

Somebody with way too much time on their hands, recorded crickets THEN, as if that wasn't enough, slowed the recording down to match "the length of the average lifespan of a human being".

Don't ask me how they did that 'cause I do NOT do math.

It's a selection right outta nature's talent show. And it could still be local talent 'cause for all we know, those crickets were performing on this red soil we call home. Could be. It sure could be.

Gotta' run. Y'all stay warm now, ya' hear. And thanks again for inviting me to your v-porch. We're gonna' have a mighty fine time. I just know we are.

Till next time,

Miz Vul