Meteorologist in training

AccuPacker....that's what we're calling Thing 2. His Uncle "The Edward" will appreciate how he has put his hat from the St. Pat's parade into use as a wind-direction detection device. And his frog umbrella has been employed as a rain gauge. This isn't from the We-Need-An-Ark deluge we had today, but from a storm last week. He is very keen on weather now. If THAT isn't a measure of his Fillmer-ness, I don't know what is.

We've won a major award!

Most of you campers who are family or close friends have heard the angst-ridden story of how The Reenactor's delicious canned garlic dill pickles were slammed out of winning any ribbons at the county fair last summer by self-absorbed, so-called "extension homemakers" who dissed him because of some small dots of "rust" on the lid. The sad sight of his jar of pickles, ribbon-less, in a shelf full of pickles with all manner and colors of ribbons on them, was just so sad. Even sadder was the sight that some of the other entries had clearly used artificial colors to achieve the ultimate color of green for their entry, and yet, they still were recognized with an award. But not T.R. His pickles were ostracized. There is a life lesson in this somewhere, but I'll let you all figure it out on your own.

Not to be outdone, when he pickled last summer he made sure he carefully wiped ALL salt off the lids so as to not offend the homemaker judges this year. Today was entry day, so he looked through all his leftover jars (from last year....cucumber plants are still growing this year) and selected the one that would be easiest to clean up (small bits of rust still had settled, in spite of his efforts last summer). Using a bit of sandpaper he sparkled up that lid. He was disappointed in the actual pickles themselves...thought they just didn't look right. But, since these women don't bother to TASTE the entry....just judge it on appearance (again, a life metaphor can be construed)...he decided it was okay.

Meanwhile, on a whim, I decided to whip up a batch of biscuits to enter. Since I was recognized in my youth as an award-winning baker at the Webster Co. Fair, I thought it would be fun to see how I was judged here. I made a dozen biscuits (recipe from an ancient Oklahoma 4-H cookbook) and selected the four that seemed most "alike" in appearance to enter. We had some of the leftovers for breakfast, and they were pretty darn good.

T1 and T2 and I took the entries this morning and left them at the fairgrounds. This evening we went back to see how we did. Happy news! The Reenactor's pickles won a RED RIBBON!! Ta Da! No dissing this year! A major improvement, and achievement!

Oh, and my biscuits? Blue ribbon.

Ha.

hillbillies in a Crown Vic

This post has no particular point....just another of those weird things that has stuck in my apparently bored brain for five hours now.

I had to go to the Evil Empire (Wally World) this afternoon to purchase a box of DVD-Rs. Okay, first of all I hear all of you booing at me for going there, but I wanted to actually have a decent selection to choose from, and to be able to get in and out of a store as quickly as possible. This is another of those purchases that I don't really see a huge difference between buying it at W.M. versus one of the other big box stores. The darn things are all made in Taiwan, so it's the same difference, as we used to say in high school.

So I'm totally digressing here. As I was leaving, with Things 1 and 2 in tow, and our one little bag of purchases (DVDs and a box of Thing 1's favorite granola bars) I noticed as we were approaching our car a number of well-fed WKY hillbillies were loitering around the car next to mine. They were emptying out not one, not two, but three grocery carts of filled little white WM bags into the trunk of this car, which as it turned out, was a Crown Victoria. Let's just say none of these folks have been strangers to gravy, shall we? My kids and I managed to squeeze past them (I'm not exaggerating here) to get into our car, and once we started up and were ready to back out I realized that all six (or possibly seven) of the hillbillies had jampacked themselves into that Crown Vic. As I pulled away from my parking spot I had the vision that has stuck with me all this evening....a nice burgandy sedan fiilled to the brim with large folks wearing overalls and polyester. And in the trunk? A whole weeks' worth of Little Debbie, smokes and cleaning supplies.

I'll say this for them...at least they carpooled.

Thank you, Dad

Thank you Dad for teaching me to fish, and making me learn to put both minnows and worms on my own hook, even though you never made me have to take off the fish I caught. Your amusement and delight over each fish I caught made the trips to Tunnel or to Fellows Lake or to the Hamilton pond a joy. I'm sorry you had to set your own rig down so often to accomodate me. Thank you also for just cutting the line when I caught a snapping turtle that time. Some things just don't need to be dealt with.

Thank you Dad for teaching me how to check the oil in my car...a task I find useful still.

Thank you Dad for making me mow the lawn. I actually enjoyed it, and learned to "drive" whipping the Snapper riding mower around the back yard of our house.

Thank you Dad for making me learn to drive a standard transmission...and for just showing me once how to do it, then insisting I go out on my own to get the hang of it. As embarassed as I was to be jolting around town in leaps and spurts, I soon learned it, and again, it is a knowledge I still find useful.

Thank you Dad for "eating" the green tomato and sawdust pies I made you on those afternoons and evenings I played in the shop while you did woodworking.

Thank you Dad for making the best pancakes and homemade ice cream I've ever had.

Thank you Dad for reading aloud the nonsensical typewritten notes I would leave on your plate at lunch when I was very little. I can still remember your attempts to pronounce the words I had punched out on that old manual typewriter, just because I loved the sound of the keys slapping the paper.

Thank you Dad for making me a Cardinals fan...even though they are terrible this year.

Thank you Dad for driving me to school instead of making me ride the bus once I told you how awful the bus was. I still remember cold, frosty mornings riding in the Catalina down Route 66, with KTTS on the radio, and your hardhat in the backseat with the Willy the Wirehand logo on it.

Thank you Dad for buying me a box of my favorite Russell Stover chocolates for Valentines Day when I was in high school and boyfriend-less. I still remember how that made me feel loved and much better.

Thank you Dad for getting me through algebra, although I must have sorely tested your patience. I made a good solid "B" and I know you were as proud of that as I was, although you must have seriously wondered if I had ANY of your genetic material in me based on how hard I struggled with it.

Thank you Dad for playing symponies on your stereo. And for playing my John Denver records too.

Thank you Dad, for being the father that you were.

overcome by art

Thing 1 reacting to a Monet in St. Louis.

Sgt. Pepper, Part 2

The Reenactor came home today with a gift for me...a CD of the Beatles' Sgt. Pepper album. He had never heard it as one album...just heard some of the songs on it, and I probably haven't listened to it in one continuous play for a zillion years either. We played it tonight, and wow...I didn't realize that the words to the songs have apparently embedded themselves in my DNA somehow, although I can't remember what I watched on tv last night.

The best part of having the CD playing while we were eating dinner was Thing 1 and Thing 2's reactions. They just HAD to get up and dance as soon as they were done eating. Thing 1 did some quite remarkably good, and "music appropriate" interpretative dance to songs like "When I'm 64"; while Thing 2 pretty much just stood on a stepstool like a dancer from "Laugh In" and wiggled around. If you've never heard the album there is a LOT of orchestral elements to it...French horns, clarinet solos, etc. At one point Thing 2 grabbed the last remaining crescent roll off the table and turned it into a faux trumpet to "play" along with the music. Considering he was wearing his Cars jammies, and Thing 1 had on a Mickie Mouse nightgown with a big pink bow in her hair, the effect was quite charming.

Pork and Beans

Why is it that the big news organizations think that two of the top ten stories we want to see on their websites today are that the "wild" pig killed by an 11-year-old-boy in Alabama was actually not wild at all, but had recently been released to a "hunting" enclosed area (where he was fenced in to be hunted by 11 year old boys); and that Hugh Grant has been released from charges that he threw baked beans at the paparrazi.

Is it just me, or is this stupid? Aren't there truly more interesting and important stories we should be hearing?

All my kin who have ties to the media can refrain from answering my angst with all the corporate media cost-effective, who's your audience reasons...I know. Honestly, I know WHY these are two of the top stories (along with some stupid skydiver story) I guess my rhetorical question is just that...rhetorical.

argh.

It's wonderful to be here. It's certainly a thrill.

It was 40 years ago today—I just heard on the radio—that the Beatle's Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band album was released. This has to be in my top ten albums of all time, even though I don't own a copy of it. I probably wore my brother and/or sister's copy out at the time, and LOVED the music on it even though I didn't understand what the heck any of it was about (well I still don't understand what some of it is about!). But it had some great music on it, and the cover art alone was probably a huge inspiration for me to become a graphic artist. Anyway....if you haven't heard it in a while, here's the opening lyrics...I know you'll be humming it the rest of the day!

It was twenty years ago today,
Sgt. Pepper taught the band to play
They've been going in and out of style
But they're guaranteed to raise a smile.
So may I introduce to you
The act you've known for all these years,
Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band.