29 November, 2010

HOUSEKEEPING

Haven't posted since August and here it is nearly December. Being marginally employed sucks. However, its better than sitting on my fanny expecting the meatheads in Washington to care for my needs. (Can you say "entitlement mentality"?)

The garden was a marginal success. Good tomatoes, peppers and squash, salad and herbs harvested. The beans were a bust for a reason I have yet to understand.

Come Friday, its time to go harvest a Plains Deer for the freezer. I'm looking forward to putting a "Bambi Wellington" together for our Christmas feast.

(H/T to Og over at: http://www.neanderpundit.com for the recipe.)


Today would have been Mom Anthony's 81st Birthday. She has been gone for nearly a year and a half. I still miss her. Grief is a strange beast. Our relationship was never an easy one. However, the fact that she is no longer available on the other end of the phone, or waiting for her children to set up a February trip to Tucson to visit her, or just there, being her obstinate, ornery self, smoking her Virginia Slims has left a hole in the universe that is populated by cloudy specters and a dull ache.

A wise old friend and counselor told me some years ago that any kind psychic/emotional pain is not fun. However, it has come up to the conscious level for a reason, stirred up from the deep, muddy miasma of the unconscious being. AND, as painful as it is, facing it isn't going to kill ya!

Happy Birthday Mum! I know you are finally at peace and restored to relationship with your Saviour...and with your life partner, Poppo Bob. Out of it all, the full knowledge that God is in charge if we allow Him to be continues to ring true.


~Ad maiorem dei gloriam!~

2 comments:

  1. Glad you are back posting. When you comment on my posts, your words put mine to shame, ringing back to me with similar thought, simply more elequently expressed. You have a gift. Thanks.

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  2. Brigid,
    Perhaps I distill (like a good whiskey), while you provide the strong ale, the fully kneeded loaf with yeast and barely and rye! Perhaps the wort and the brew come to me from your words. (We do come out of the same Scandinavian/Irish heritage.)

    I have brewed hard cider. Watching the sweet juice from orchard apples turn into wort, brown and foaming ugly, then cleaned and capped to allow the alcohol in the anaerobic process to build....Well, it is amazing.

    There is a Scotch Whiskey micro-distillery which opened in Denver when one man's loss of his house to fire, and his meeting of a fireman who saved some of his belongings, sat down after the conflagration...shared a good single malt. Out of that meeting began a friendship. Out of the friendship began a distillery and a successful business.

    Just saying.

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