His name was Dave...

although I didn't find that out until deep into the conversation.  

His wife died nine years ago, but before that, they had bought regional cookbooks for his mother who lived in California.  Cookbooks from the Montana Centennial Cattle Drive, from the Red Lodge ladies societies, from the Miles City civics clubs...any sort of those community project compilations in which the main dishes were sure to include many, MANY ground beef recipes; preferably with sour cream and noodles.  

I was in a hurry to get all my groceries, get out of Reynolds and drive like the wind blows to Cohagen to get my kids from school.  Typical day in Miles City, you know?  I'd noticed in passing this little older gentleman with his brother (or so I thought)....they were wandering around near the lunch meats and bacon section where I needed to go.  Their cart was empty and I suspected it was more of a "get out of the house" mission than anything.  

When I came rushing out of the chips 'n' junk aisle (yes, I'm that kind of mother), this well groomed, neat, 70-something gentleman said, "You go ahead; you're faster than me, anyway." and smiled.  

God places speed bumps fortuitously, I believe, and I couldn't stand the thought that I might have been rude, so I replied, "I'm not sure where I'm headed, to be honest, so it doesn't matter if I get there fast or not!" 

It wasn't entirely true, but how could I run over such a good spirited fellow?

WELL...

This was an obvious opening to a conversation that I was quite unprepared for!  

He noticed the cookbook I had in hand and wondered if I was working on a recipe, to which I showed him the California Hangover slush plan for my reading group.  

And that's when he started telling me about the cookbooks and his mother and his wife and his daughter who died at age 20 but appeared to his mother when she read the cookbooks he sent to California.  

Did I think it was crazy that his mom caught moments with his daughter, even though the girl died years before?

No...I told him that I thought we lived with sweet spirits all around us and some people were more in tune and less afraid of that.  

So, then he told me about growing up in Florida and how there were mansions with "spirits" hanging around them; he and his wife (bless her soul) had met a few of them.  

And here I was, standing in the middle of the cold cuts in a straightforward little old market in Miles City, Montana, talking about ghosts with a codger named Dave.  

His brother, it turned out, was a dear friend who just seemed like a brother; when I said I thought they WERE related as I observed them, they both shook my hand heartily and thanked me.  And told me I had beautiful eyes that were friendly, that it was no coincidence that we'd "met" and that good things would be mine.  

With good tidings to each other, we parted, and I finally had access to the beef cotto salami and went clipping on my way.  Last I saw of them, they were further into the meat aisle, discussing chicken with the butcher who had no way of knowing there would be ghost stories forthcoming....the cart was still empty.

The funniest thing about the whole deal was that I had started the day praying that God would make me open...not that I would have an open heart, because that's when mine gets wounded and I end up crying about things I have no ability to "fix" (like the Syrian business and junk on the news)....no, just OPEN.  Help me not be so very self absorbed and self important. (When one lives in a small world, the focus gets skewed...) Help me to be aware and kind!

Had I not prayed for openness...

I might have missed Dave!  

I might not have had the grace to spend 20 minutes listening to a kind man with an empty cart who needed to tell stories about people he loved and his life experiences (albeit supernatural in the south).  

I might have rushed past the lunch meat and not have had a courtly gentleman admire my cookbook and wish me good fortune in my life.

Sometimes, being impulsive and interested is such a blessing!

(Now I have to bake the teacher some bread or something, because I was 20 minutes late picking the kids up from school and all I had for an excuse was "there was this old guy in the grocery store telling me ghost stories...")

 

First Day of School 2013

Actually, it was last Wednesday.
And it was HOT.
Nonetheless, we participated, even though I really wasn't ready to send the barnacles back.
(I personally think the first day of school should just be a half day.  By the the time I got to the school that afternoon with my pan of brownies, the teacher and kids looked like they should have gone home at noon. Even brownies can't help...and that's saying something.)

 He's got a whole closet of serious first grade button down shirts and khaki pants. We aren't messing around when it comes to school clothes....

.

Maggie worriedly asked if I was going to follow the bus to school to take pictures there.  She then STRENUOUSLY informed me that it was horribly embarrassing to a fourth grader, that she had been okay with it when she was a first grader, but if I loved her, I would not come that morning. At all. Or call.
This is the last I saw of them, then, until 3 p.m....

Batching it...

Extreme luxury, for me, is when the Farmer and kids are gone (once in a blue moon) for lunch and I can prepare whatever my heart desires.  I've never understood women who look around, find themselves alone and pour a bowl of Yucky Charms cereal.  "I don't have to cook!", they say defensively.  No, you don't HAVE to cook, but you MAY cook...whatever in the world you've been longing for.

You see, as a wife and mom, I plan meals trying to suit the tastes of my family (within reason), our activities (lots of physical work means sturdier fare), even the weather.  I attempt to get the food groups in, make sure the meals are decently healthy, and that there are no onions that can be seen with the naked seven year old eye.  It's a big job, three times a day, 350 days a year at least.

When I'm alone, I don't HAVE to cook, either.
But it's on those days that I joyfully take stock of what my palate has been longing for that no one else would enjoy or be satisfied with and prepare myself the good stuff.

Today, it was a big ugly salad.
(Don't stop reading here! When I say, "salad", I'm talking about a bowl of food that has lettuce as a garnish, really.  Stick with me!)

I'm alone, so I don't have to hurry to get it on the table in time.  I don't have to get it to the table at all, truth be told.

I begin by setting the mood...
Pour a small glass of Chardonnay. (Horrors! It's only 11:00 a.m.!)
Find a Sophia Loren movie about treasure hunting in the Greek islands...yep, that will do.  It was almost a French subtitled movie, but I like Sophia's voice.  The whole point of it is to have something on that no one else in the family would tolerate any other time.  It's my meal!  It's my soundtrack!

Already it's fun, isn't it?

I take out a huge bowl for the salad.  I won't make the salad to fit the bowl, but I want room to toss and swirl and shake up the whole mess.  Salads that j-u-s-t barely fit in the bowl are very annoying to me and I don't need that sort of stress when I'm making this soul meal.

I make a little pillow of lettuce and cabbage in the bottom of the bowl to welcome the rest of the ingredients. Cabbage has a more satisfying crunch and stronger flavor which makes the salad seem a little more substantial.
Also, it will hold up under all the other good stuff, where lettuce alone sort of gives up and wilts a bit.

Cold things to add on top of the greens?  Today I had green onions, orange bell pepper, poblano pepper, and pinapple.  I've been eating carrots and tomatoes out of the garden, so they're sort of...ordinary.  The orange bell pepper looks pretty against the other green-y things and makes me smile.

Here's where it gets sort of wild.
Here's where my heart does a happy little flitter...these next steps are what make this salad "ugly", but in a magnificent way.

I get out a big non-stick frying pan and plop a good dollop of real butter in the bottom.  While that's melting, I add some chopped garlic (from a jar in the fridge) and a liberal amount of powdered chipotle chili pepper.  And shake a little salt, for good measure. From the freezer, I pull out the hoarded shrimp that's already been deveined and cooked...and I toss about 6 or 7 in with the spicy butter.  They'll saute and soak up the flavor while I have a couple sips of wine and move on to the next step.

(Sophia is working two different treasure hunters against each other to her advantage and I do believe she's making nearly as much progress as I am with my salad...)

I take out another, smaller non-stick frying pan and in this one goes the bacon bits (I had to use the Kirkland ones, but usually have a little pre-cooked bacon in the fridge) and the French's french fried onions.  I turn the burner up and toast the little morsels of goodness until both are nice and crispy and smell heavenly.  These I dump on the greens, then use the same pan to toast up the sliced almonds.

While the almonds are toasting, I take the sweet little shrimps out of their butter bath and add them to the ever-growing "salad".  (If you make this, you'll want to save the spicy shrimp butter to dip your sourdough toast in. It's amazing...)

I scatter the almonds over the whole thing, then get my vinaigrette out of the fridge to finish this project.  First thing in the week, I made a simple dressing of olive oil, vinegar and sweet red chili sauce (the kind you find in the Chinese cooking aisle at the grocery store). Shake it up, pour it over all, then take my fork and stir the salad up until it's all messy and pretty.

Then, I pour a leetle more Chardonnay in my wine glass, take my meal to the living room, sit cross legged on the couch, watch Sofia dive for a dolphin statue and eat my salad.  (She obviously eats salads with more lettuce and less bacon...poor thing.)

The whole thing takes about an hour...a really wonderful hour, when I think about it.  I'm too full for the spicy butter and toast, so I save that for later.  It will be a happy reminder of the meal I made for myself.

*Note, here, on salads.  When I make a salad for myself, I usually end up with a funny balance of sweet, spicy, crunchy, salty, both clean and complex flavors.  I realize though, that sometimes one of the most comforting things is simplicity.  If your life has felt out of control and you're tired of complex things, one of the nicest salads would be a wedge of iceburg lettuce and a favorite creamy dressing poured over the top.  That would be happy soul-food, too.

*I DIDN'T take a picture because if you want to make this sort of salad for yourself, you shouldn't be trying to make it look like mine.  Perhaps you'd put the crunchy fried onions and bacon on the bottom.  Maybe you'd grill chicken instead of using shrimp.  You might drink milk instead of white wine.  Whatever rattles your can...

Now that Sophia has landed the treasure, her man and my wine glass is empty, I need to go clean up the kitchen so it looks like I didn't eat anything but a p.b. and j. for lunch when the family gets back....

A word!

Remember yesterday when I said that there would be more joy here at the Chronicles?

Well.

Right after that...

(And I'm talking within about 10 minutes)

God smacked me upside the head with a word. 

Actually it's more than one, but when a verse jumps out of the Bible at me, that's what I call God giving me a word....I really don't know why I think that or where it came from, but that's what I call it.  

Get THIS:

"You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace; 

the mountains and the hills will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands."

Isaiah 55:12

That's so stinking joyful that I laughed out loud!

I also thought that the psalmist showed remarkable restraint in not adding an exclamation point at the end of that particular verse.

Have you ever walked through trees and heard them clap?

I've always thought it was rustling, but now I'll hear the tiny, joyful claps of their hands.  

Oh, and shouldn't we clap with them for a moment?

And perhaps that's why I love running in the mountains...they're singing to me!  

The trees are cheering on the side for the melody of the mountains and hills...

That's good stuff, God. 

Off Balance

So, here's the thing...

For the last few months, I've been trying to change some things about myself.  

I felt I needed to be more focused, serious, realistic, pragmatic, self-controlled, living within strict boundaries.  I've been working on it with all my might, making checklists and goals and following all the rules that I think all the left-brained people follow and are succeeding with.  

I really thought that it would make me a better person, help me to be more content here in the land of practical, straight lined people.  Maybe I would fit in better, you know?  I married into a very intelligent, industrious family that I admire, in a strong, no-nonsense community (which I also admire) and it feels like I'm on a different channel than they are; I think I'm on AM, while they're on FM.  

I was trying to tune in, so to speak. 

Yesterday, though, I realized that my attempts at change are changing me for the worse.  

I find myself tense, self-degrading, defeated and focused, yes, but on the wrong things.  

I'm becoming bitter and self-destructive.

The majority of the clothes hanging in my closet are brown, grey and black, for goodness sake!  That wasn't intentional, but it's sure an indicator of my spirits.  

I've been trying SO hard to change, but it's changed me for the worse.  

That's the true confession part.

Here's the apology part.

I'm sorry if I made you feel as though you were no longer important to me, that I'd shed your friendship and comradery.  I'm sorry that I've been so strange, and that I've been like a stranger...like you're just getting a hologram of me.  I'm sorry that when I try really hard to do what I think is the right thing that I end up doing the wrongest thing of all, and you don't know what's going on.  

*BIG HUGE CLEANSING SIGH*

Getting rid of some soul-clutter, here.

Last week, I sat under the stars with my cousin Jeff Newton, talking about things that really matter and quite a few things that don't but are fun to chew on, anyway, especially if you have a bottle of Pinot Grigio and the folks have gone to bed.  He unknowingly validated that it's completely fine to be an AM station in an FM world...it's just where I landed on the dial, you know?  Jeff is a rare, dear person who exemplifies authenticity to me, the strengths and flaws equally, and makes no apologies for anything except the hashbrowns that didn't turn out the way he'd planned.  

In conclusion...

(Those are the most welcome words at the end of an emotional rabbit-trail post like this, aren't they?)

Tune in to the Chronicles for my AM life...

It's mostly random, likely to be passionate, (ONCE AGAIN) there will be more joy, friends, small thoughts on a big world and...definitely football.  

Closed for repairs

Hey readership, both locally and around the world, 

The Chronicles are going to be shut down for about a month.  I realize I have about a week left on the blog challenge and will finish those beginning in September.  

Come back around September 3rd and I'll have something for you then!

Thanks, 

The Farmer's Wife

Day 27: Post Your Favorite Recipe

It's impossible to say what my favorite recipe is, but I'll post one that I love, one of my comfort foods.

It comes from my friend Anne, whose family made Vermont Maple Cookies for Christmas when she was growing up.  I invited her to come make cookies with me in preparation for one of our Dutton Cookie Days and she brought this recipe with her.  We had Vermont Maple Cookies EVERYWHERE, because we decided to double the batch and hadn't really looked at how many the original made...4-5 dozen, depending on how big you make them.  Cookies on every surface.  And in the background, Veggie Tales with the classic (and never to be forgotten to Anne) "If It Doesn't Have A Tail, It's Not A Monkey" song.  I think we had to make something like 3 batches of frosting and by the time we were finished, we were hot, sticky and giggly from the effort...or maybe from the sugar high.

They were a BIG hit at Cookie Day!  Imagine, if you will, cookies that taste like itty-bitty maple bars.  Bite sized maple bars. Except better, because they're all maple-y and not deep fried.  

I'll give you a moment, here, to wipe the drool off your computer keyboard...

Rather than just type the recipe, I scanned the copy I have, complete with stains and splotches and notes.  

Day 26: An Old Picture Of You

Updates

I drove to Lewistown to get my hair done *ahem...FISH* and had some time to re-think some of the blog challenge posts from this month.

Day 4: I'm also afraid of small, tight places, especially around my head.

Day 5: Dearly love the song "Brave" by Sara Barreilles, too.

Day 7:  If I was honest, kinked up garden hoses and wet socks drive me nuts!

Day 16:  I'd be thrilled to drive a reasonably priced car around the track at Top Gear to embarrass the Stig.
Day 19:  I didn't intend to, but my friends are helping me collect flamingos, too.

Ivan and Jenny brought me this wine bottle stopper from Bonaire where they went diving this spring!

Day 24: Your Favorite Childhood Book

I was going to take a picture and tell you about it, but then changed my mind and decided to take the pictures and READ it to you....virtually, of course.

You MUST find a cozy place to sit, and if possible, grab or borrow a child to sit on your lap as you read this story.  I wish I could provide each of you with a little cup of tea with honey and gingersnaps to complete the experience, but I'm afraid that's impossible.

Now, then...

Miss Suzy by Miriam Young (Illustrated by Arnold Lobel before he became famous!  This is one of his first works.)

Day 23: The Best Thing To Happen This Year

(I didn't come up with the challenge...let's just get that clear, here and now.  It was one we found on the internet and I claim no responsibility whatsoever for the awkward phrasing of the daily post assignments.)

Now that we have that little disclaimer aside...
I don't have any idea what the best thing TO happen this year will be.  But, I can tell you the best thing that has happened to me this week.

Last night, in an unplanned slumber(less) party due to inclement weather during our board meeting, my friend and I stayed up all night having a couple beers, trying to kill mice with snow shovels.

In her house.

Because a broom just bounces them, it doesn't kill them.

We decided that a pregnant mouse must have gotten in the house and had babies while my friend was gone because we counted no less than 12 mice all the same size, about an inch long.  And they were FEARLESS.

AND....
I'm so proud to tell you...
WE were FEARLESS.

It was fun because we were so tired that it was funny, you know?  I can only imagine if someone had driven by the house at 2 a.m., saw the shadows of two women swinging shovels and yelling, "GET HIM!!!" what they might have thought.  Well, they sure wouldn't have slowed down, I can tell you that much....

I think we slept for about an hour and a half, both on the couch with heads on each end and no body parts sticking out, until at 4:30 I heard what I thought was a mouse in one of the traps.

Ha-HA!!!!

Turns out, it was many mice and it wasn't a trap as we had deliriously thought around 1 a.m....it was a box with very tasty bait that they could go in and out of like a club house, which they did happily, practically sticking their tongues out at us because snow shovels are all but useless between the refrigerator and the counter and they KNEW this.  

We finally gave up, sat on the couch with our feet up under us and talked about politics, religion and life while drinking instant coffee while watching those nasty scrabbly little things frequent The Bait Bar.

We got the number for an exterminator and are setting up a full-scale battle which WE won't be attending.

I HATE mice.
But I love my friend and we made funny, awful memories...still laughing and shuddering as I type this...

Day 22: What Is Your Dream Job?

Ooooooo!

THIS is sort of like my bucket list and lottery question all neatly wrapped into one topic!

The thing about dream jobs is that they seldom fit the life one is currently leading, so part of the scenario I'll describe would be if I didn't have to consider anyone else's well being or future.  That's why it's called a "dream" job.  

So....

I'd really love to be a photojournalist for National Geographic Travel magazine who is centrally stationed in the Caribbean on an island in a little hut where it doesn't matter if I track a little sand in and where I can make beach glass jewelry to sell to the wealthy (and gullible) tourists.  

See?  

What's YOUR dream job?

Or are you doing it right now?

Day 21: Your Ten Favorite Foods

Who came up with this list, anyway???

Obviously, it was someone with a neat purse, nearly empty (and spotlessly clean) refrigerator who glances in the mirror and says, "My smile is my best feature.  I must go, now, and use my lottery winnings to fulfill my bucket list...", proudly sweeping out of the room with her favorite song playing in the background.

Or something.  

How am I to narrow it down to just TEN???

And if I boldly clump all seafood together as one item, will I get kicked out of the challenge?  Because my list of seafood loves, alone, takes care of about six spots right there.

(You can stop reading at #10.  I might just keep listing...)

1. I'm going to do it.  I'm going to say "Seafood" in every form I've ever met.  Scallops, lobster, shrimp, crab, clams, geoduc (pronounced "goo-ee duck")...bring it on.  When I was on the east coast, I think I ate seafood at least twice a day for ten days.  Some days I ate it four or five times.  Or more.  
2. Bacon.  
3. Bread.  I know I should be more specific, but I can't be...it's like the seafood.  One of the most perfect foods in the world is clam fritters at Aunt Carrie's in Rhode Island; bread AND seafood!
4. Cheese.  Stinky cheese, soft cheese, hard-and-crumbly cheese, cream, curds.  *pausing a moment to wipe the drool off my keyboard*
5. Summer tomatoes still warm from the vine.  
6. Lemon ___________ (fill in the blank with anything, but bonus points if you said "Lemon Blueberry Cake")
7. Pasta. (See Bread, Cheese and Seafood)
8. Peanut butter!  Another one of the best meals is a Thai noodle dish with a spicy peanut sauce.  
9. Steak.  
10. Strawberries

My less specific, more honest list is like THIS:

1. Mexican
2. Chinese
3. Thai
4. Greek
5. Southern
6. Italian
7. French
8. Indian
9. German
10. Drive In

I must go prepare lunch, now...

Really!

Day 20: A Difficult Time In Your Life

So...

Before  I start this post, you MUST watch this video from the movie "Miss Congeniality".

Perfect Date

Now you have a frame of reference for my answer to this question.

:)

The most difficult time of my life has consistently been between 2 and 4 p.m.  

That's where I collapse.  

My brain shuts off.  Not "shuts down" but "shuts OFF".  

And it always has!  

I remember in grade school, that was when I was supposed to be learning history and social studies and science.  On Fridays, it was art and I could fumble through that, being all right-brained and creative.  

In high school, I was able to be in study hall, choir and home ec...all classes that I could sort of wade through without too much effort.  Weirdly, I got choral awards and home ec accolades all four years of high school.  Who says "auto-pilot" is pointless?!

In college, I loaded my mornings with classes and did my work study and off campus work in the afternoons.

At the arena, I hung on by the skin of my eyeteeth during those hours; apologies here and now for the teams I turned out and timed those years.  You probably had better times than the records reflect...my gate reflexes may have been impaired.  It doesn't help that I'd been wrapping steers until 10 p.m. the night before and watering driveways at 5 a.m....

As a mother, I prayed, prayed, PRAYED for long nap times in the afternoons. And by golly, my babies took naps come rain, snow, sleet, relatives, Superbowls...you name it.  Those babies were going DOWN by 1:30 and God save the person who accidentally woke them up early!  (I'm sorry, UPS and Schwan companies, for ignoring your knocks.  Ain't no ice cream worth 20 minutes early wake up of a baby in the afternoon...)

Now, I try to get as much done as I can before this slump.  Or, if I need to be doing something, it has to be brainless....like folding clothes or loading the dishwasher or something.  I take notes if there's a phone call because I honestly might not remember the details.  And I know better than to drive.  

A difficult time in my life is from 2-4 p.m. EVERY DAY.  

Now that you have that information, please be kind and work around it...

Token flower picture, just so you have something to look at....

Day 19: What Do You Collect?

Besides shoes and books?

Cookie cutters.
I have 87 that I use for cookies and another 12 that are play dough designated.

It all started with fish cookies, thanks to the Yost women, and now the cutters just seem to show up...from friends and family, from travels, from second hand stores.

Teapots and flags and states and dog bones and cactus and lips...
I only have two states...Montana and Texas.  What other states really count, anyway, right?  (*wink*)

 High heels and martini glasses, maple leaf and Santa and hearts....

The old fashioned cutters remind me of my grandma and Mom, of the cookies we cut out when we were kids...

There are moose and penguins and lions and flowers and helicopters....

Kitschy 1970's plastic cutters that don't really work all that great, but still make me smile because they're so....1970's, you know?

Kangaroos and bears and cowboys and fish and angels and snowmen and...
yes...
FISH!

A friend recently asked if I had anything musical, like a treble clef or quarter note, and I did not.  BIG gap in my collection!  I also don't have a lighthouse, sasquatch, dinosaur, baseball bat, football, wine bottle or yin-yang.  (So those go on my bucket list, right?)

I really wanted to show you my shoes, because I've added to the collection thanks to a two day half price sale at St. Vincent De Paul thrift store in Miles City.

SILVER SANDALS! 

We won't go near the book collection....