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Monthly Archives: May 2012

Such A Deal I Have, For You My Special Friend…

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So I’m busy making supper and a guy knocks on my door and says, “I’ve finished making my deliveries and have extra steaks. Only $3.00 each. Would you like to buy some? I have filet mignon and ____.”

I didn’t hear the second cut of beef he was selling. My brain was too busy trying to process the fact that this guy showed up out of no where – well, actually New York (and I live in Rhode Island)  – and he just happens to have these extra steaks… for $3.00 each.

There was this little mouse in my head scramblin’ around squeaking things like, “Who are you?” “Why my door?” “Is it the house? It’s a perpetual construction zone of unfinished projects. Does it look like I would eat filet mignon?” Maybe that’s the thing. He figured I would jump at the chance to have filet mignon on a ground beef budget. (Which, come to think of it, isn’t cheap either.)

The truck he drove was the size of a small pick-up and had a box refrigerator unit in the bed. (About the size of a small U-Haul truck.) Emblazoned on the side of the white refrigerated box were the words ‘USDA Beef’ in a red and blue diamond logo.

  • He appeared spiffy and clean, but what was the name of his business?
  • Have the steaks been kept at proper temperature on the trip from New York to Rhode Island and during an entire day of deliveries?
  • Has the meat been federally inspected? (Maybe that’s a mediocre argument given some of the documentaries out there, but still… mad cow, anyone?)
  • And again, what’s the name of the business?

Okay I admit, I was running on instinct powered by that silly mouse and these questions didn’t pop into my head until after I said ‘no thanks’ and closed the door. I’ll never know the answers. But standing there confronted with this mobile meatman, I just couldn’t think this was a good thing. After all, if it seems too good to be true, it probably is. Right? (I know, I need to be more open to new things – but food poisoning isn’t one of them.)

Filet mignon for $3.00. Each.

It’s been forever since I’ve even seen one. With my frame of reference, he could have passed off almost any cut of meat (well, not a T-bone steak or a lamb chop) as filet mignon and I’m not sure I would have known any better. (I just had to google to be sure I spelled it correctly.) And then I have this magnificent piece of beef, (how many ounces do you get for $3.00. Each.??) and I don’t know that I’d do it justice ‘cuz I like my beef cooked and an expensive (except this time) cut like filet mignon is more of a stick-it-in-the-oven-turn-around-three-times-take-it-out-and-eat-it piece of beef. USDA beef. Butchered who knows where, by who knows who and only $3.00. Each.

I wouldn’t do it justice grilling it either. I know your supposed to use tongs to grill meat, but I lost mine someplace (how does that happen?) so I use my long handled granny fork and, yes, I lose some of the juice and I’m sure grillmasters everywhere are breaking out in hives. Deal with it. I don’t want to buy another pair of tongs when I have a pair around here… someplace. And for filet mignon, I’d feel obligated to buy tongs. (There goes the savings on the filet mignon for only $3.00. Each.)

And here’s the spooky thing. I already told you I was busy making supper when he showed up at my door, right?

I was grilling a (bought-on-sale) steak out on the back deck.

It’s like I drew him in with the smell or something.

So what do you think? Did I say ‘no’ to a good thing? What would you have done if he showed up at your door?

Every tomorrow….

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Every tomorrow has two handles. We can take hold of it with the handle of anxiety or the handle of faith.
Henry Ward Beecher

Grateful for the Ordinary

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The early morning song of a cardinal joyfully greeting a new day.

The soft patter of much needed rain. The drought has ended.

A tearful reminder that God is near and He cares for the grieving and the lonely.

The struggle to do something new.

The happiness that accompanies success.

The smile of a loved one.

Chocolate pudding with whipped cream.

Ordinary moments accumulate into days filled with more gifts than can be counted.

And sometimes we think the day was unremarkable.

There’s no such thing when blessings are acknowledged and gratitude expressed for the gifts – great and small – we have received.

Happy Birthday Card with Inchies

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While on vacation I found some fabulous ‘inchie’ stamps. I used black ink, added glitter then set them against a hot pink background. Love the visual impact when several inches are grouped together.

Mother’s Day ~ The Cards. The Hat.

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Following are the two Mother’s Day cards I created for my mom and my mom-in-law.

I had a thing for flowers this year! On the first I sponged a small paper doily with moss green ink  to use as the background for the flowers. On the second card, I embossed the background with the Cottage Floral embossing folder from Craft Concepts then colored it with chalk.

And finally, here is the hat I wore for Hat Day at church. Lace, ribbon and a vintage pearl button!       

Wearing hats is not the norm in my church, so this is a fun way to include all women in the the celebration.

I was blessed with a day full of sunshine, love and laughter.

 

 

 

 

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“God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks to us in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world.”

C. S. Lewis

Sunrise over the Smoky Mountains

Lost Sock Memorial Day – May 9th

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The humble sock. It has so many functions. It will keep our foot warm when it’s cold. It will make wearing shoes more comfortable. It will had a spark of color or fun to a blah wardrobe day. The thing about socks – for the majority of us – they are best worn in matched pairs. Lose one and the other will languish in single sock prison.

There are many reasons for some sock disappearances. Some are easily explained.
A household may shelter sock losers (they come in all ages) or a sock stealer –
 But the disappearances that have yet to be figured out are the ones that take place in the laundry room. That functional area of the home where socks vanish without a trace. No one sees or hears a thing. As a pair, the socks enter the wash and dry process but only one completes the cycle.

Here’s my theory: It’s the spinning! Whether washer or dryer, at some point in the process, the centrifugal force flings a sock into a parallel universe inhabited by a race of single footed folk who have no way of producing their own sock and, therefore, need a steady supply from our washers and dryers.

Today let’s remember all the sacrificial socks that have unexpectedly left home in order to make someone else’s foot a little warmer.

What’s your sock disappearance theory?

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