Monday, March 11, 2013

Spring is in the Air

Bradford Pear Tree
This is the first year the Bradford Pear trees have flowered since they have been planted in my yard. I've wondered over the past few years why they haven't bloomed like the ones I see lining the driveways of the neighboring houses. They are truly beautiful and bring the promise of spring, just around the corner.


The warm temperatures tempted me to pick up a few annuals at the Home Depot where I returned some unneeded things and received a gift card in exchange.

Had to go ahead and pick up these lovelies and get them in the containers on my porch which were so lonely with last year's leftover lifeless twigs.

The first robins have begun to feed in the back yard. One year I counted over thirty five of them all within the fenced area for the dogs. My shy Cardinal can be heard chirping his distinctive call and drinking from the water dish perched on the roll of garden fencing. I'm hoping he'll get within range and let me take a closer look at his gorgeous red plumage.

The recent rain has already brought a tinge of green to the brown grass of winter. It won't be long before the hum of lawn mowers will be cutting a trail in the new growth.

What a gorgeous time of the year - spring.

A glorious renewal of life and color, shedding the drab, sad colorless past and beginning anew.

We thank Thee oh Lord
For these Thy gifts
And more because
Of Jesus' love.
Let manna to our souls be given,
The bread of life sent down from Heav'n.

©  A song by PegCole from a prayer of Rev. James Armstrong

Saturday, February 16, 2013

On The Road Again in Texas

Last week, when we were on our way to Cosco's, once again, we headed down Parker Road, there was this cowboy riding his horse along the side of the road. Only in Texas? Maybe not, but it was a sight to see. Luckily, there was very little traffic so we slowed down and I asked if I could take his picture. He cheerfully agreed.
Cowboy
What a sight. It was across the street from South Fork Ranch, no surprise there. Of course, like most of the streets in the Dallas Metroplex, the street is under construction.

Our main access road is also under construction. After twenty plus years out in the sticks, the City of Lavon is finally widening Highway 78 which is a 60 mph zone to two lanes in each direction. No doubt, once the highway is improved, the speed limit will be reduced to 45 mph. Hard to figure that one out.


South Fork Ranch, turn here for tours
The morning traffic has increased exponentially over the years making the commute to get through the city of Wylie to around an hour from our house. Meanwhile, the road is treacherous since they have barricaded half of the old road with concrete dividers along the right side while they remove the asphalt and lay down concrete.

The lanes are dangerously narrow and one lane has been created right next to the pylons that used to parallel the shoulder. There are no street lights in the area so the travel at night is downright dangerous.

The junction at Hwy 6
Not much room to maneuver around

Anyhow, give it a few years and they'll be done. Stick around.



Thursday, January 31, 2013

Driving Past South Fork Ranch

Yesterday we drove into town to pay the property taxes. They weren't due yet. In fact I had until today which was a good twenty-fours left. So I paid them early, thankfully and gladly, grateful that they are not included as part of our mortgage payment.
It makes me stop and think about the math. We've been out here over twenty years and in that time our taxes have quadrupled. I keep telling myself that we are lucky. If taxes were added to our mortgage payment I'm not sure we could manage the payment. It is hard to set aside that amount every month for the inevitable invoice that comes due.
But that makes it easier to keep tabs on how much they increase over time. Still, it is a small price to pay for the freedom and beauty we enjoy every day of the year.


So anyhow, on the way into town I passed by South Fork Ranch, and stopped to take a new picture of the view from Parker Road. Next time I'll get a pic of the front but they had street construction going on.

South Fork Ranch from Parker Road
Thirty years ago my friend from Florida came up and we drove over to South Fork after visiting at Miss Jeannie's horse ranch. We found out it cost $4.00 each just to go into the house, so we stood outside at the gate and took pictures of each another instead. I'll have to dig those out and scan them in.

Okay, on the way back home I decided to stop in at Target and fill up the wagon with supplies, you know. And when I parked and went inside, I noticed how unusually dark it was in the store. I asked the guy by the door why. When I noticed that the entire shelf that usually holds the specialty cheese and ready made containers of deli food was totally empty and he was wiping it down.

He told me that their power went off the night before and didn't come back completely on.

"Well, wouldn't the food spoil? I asked.

"Yep. That's why we had to throw all this out. Meat and everything. All we've got is what came in on the truck this morning." He seemed sad about the whole thing. And so was I.

I couldn't begin to imagine the cost of the lost merchandise and then I thought about all the hungry people in town and why didn't they hold a free barbecue or something. But the lawsuits would rule that out just in case someone were to get sick. So they tossed out a fortune in meat, dairy, deli and more. It was sobering.

Thursday, January 24, 2013

Play Misty For Me

Sunrise, January 24, 2013
Early morning fog came as a surprise to those of us expecting weather in the 70s today. The moisture in the air provided a gorgeous sunrise.

It was delightfully cool, rather than cold outside as the dew gathered strength and dripped quietly down from the roof onto the porch.


I headed out early and picked up the bare necessities, Fudgsicles, Half-n-half, and those irresistable breakfast essentials, raspberry filled donuts. Of course the obligatory gallon of milk was tucked among the purchases; all the better for gluging down with a couple of those donuts.


My appearance at the front door frightened a small covey of birds that had surrounded the bird feeder. Teetering away with a flurry of wings, they took cover under the deck behind the trellis.

The house next door finally saw some advancement after a couple of weeks of inactivity. This past weekend they came and installed the remaining pieces of missing siding at the top of the east facing wall.

After a long dry spell, we had two days of rain over the last couple of weeks, which most certainly found its way down behind the partially completed siding. Progress is hard to determine with the exterior mostly finished. They will start the finish out of the inside now.


It's given a whole new dimension to the sunset. This photo was the view in 2009.

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

Heating the House in the Old Days


Englander Wood Burning Stove
This is the wood burning fireplace that we bought and installed when we first built the house. The brick work was completed by my Dad and Jim whose efforts over several days laying the brick turned our frigid house into a habitable place. The Englander model has come in handy during the many occasions when we've lost power out here in the rural area north east of Dallas. Sometimes it's off for hours at a time.

During the early days before we had interior walls, insulation, proper wiring or central heat, we depended on this old fashioned method of keeping warm. I'll never forget the time the water in the dog's bowl froze in the kitchen. That year, we learned to leave a faucet dripping slowly after replacing a hose in the washing machine that froze and burst. Although we savor the fond memories of wearing three pair of socks and two sweatsuits under a coat, we don't miss the old days when we put groceries into the refrigerator to keep them from freezing.

Thank goodness for plastic tarps and a staple gun, we were able to partition off the living room from the incomplete second floor. Before that, most of the heat from our small space heaters we had running on long extension cords escaped easily through the attic vents. Until we were able to install ceilings and walls in that area, we were trying to heat the outdoors.

My Dad, who was visiting us from the sunny state of Florida was good natured about our predicament when staying with us in the winter of 1990, the first year after we moved into the "construction zone" that we call our house. His comments when the three of us huddled together inches from the space heaters that did little more than heat our shins was unforgettable.

"It's not cold," he said, his breath forming clouds of wispy smoke, "it's brisk."

We still laugh about his understatement that day. When we get an ice storm, snow or freezing rain, we quote him with words forced from chattering teeth, "It's not cold, it's brisk".


Thursday, January 3, 2013

The Last Day of 2012 was a tough one

Some days are more memorable than others for a variety of reasons. New Year's Eve is one that stands out for many. This one stands out for me and will be remembered as one of the toughest days of the year. Today I said goodbye to a dear friend.

Fritz in 2007
Fritz came to live across the street when Aunt Louise moved in with Mom. She, Fritz and Sugar (a cat) had been living in Fort Worth until 2005, the year Aunt Helen passed. The year brought many changes for his owner, Louise, and for her younger sister, my Mom, who was about to retire at 80 years of age. Her retirement party at the school had already been  scheduled for the day after we lost Helen at 94. It was a bittersweet day.

Fritz was welcomed into the family by his step-brother Max, a 10 pound Dachshund, an only child prior to that. For the first time in his life, Fritz enjoyed the pleasures of having a fenced yard rather than being restricted to the leash. He discovered the pleasure of chasing squirrels, armadillos and even skunks that happened into his new rural setting. The neighbor's cat became a manner of getting exercise, running down the ramp to chase the trespasser off the porch. What a joy that was!


Fritz in March 2012
Fritz was adopted from an animal shelter in 1999, so his exact heritage is unknown, but from the looks of him, his ancestry included both the noble beagle and Bassett hound.

He transformed over the years from a frightened, abused cast-off who barked in fear at visitors, into a loving and joyous bundle of doggie kisses; a playful dog who lit up when his Uncle Jim would visit. He learned the source of much ear scratching and belly rubbing emanated from the man he once feared.


We will remember him, as we do our own, who have crossed over in the many years that have passed: with love and affection and a natural sense of loss balanced precariously at the moment by the memories of the joy he once brought to us all. He will be missed most by the human he knew as his Mom for 14 short years, Miss Louise Trapp, age 92.

RIP Fritz Trapp
April 21, 1998 - December 31, 2012

Wednesday, December 26, 2012

White Christmas in Texas 2012

Christmas day started off chilly and gray with temperatures of 39 deg. (F) with rain out here in rural Northeast Dallas.

The weatherman, a new guy who has a resemblance to Chevy Chase, said we might get "a light dusting" on Christmas, but likely it would be northeast of us. I hoped it was the Wichita Falls area, but he meant us. 

A light dusting started early in the morning with some square, chips of frozen rain tinkling against the windows, like reindeer feet lightly touching down. To heighten the mood, rain was dropping from the eaves, tapping out a familiar Christmas tune on the dog's steel water dish lying upside down on the porch.

Soon the snow began to fall in earnest, with frozen rain coming from all directions as the wind rose and temperatures fell to 36 degrees.

We made a silly video to go with the festivities of the day. 



As my Christmas ham baked quietly, nestled in its hot roasting pan, we watched Doctor Who episodes, the Christmas ones, while snow continued to cover the fall leaves still in the yard.

When it reached 29 degrees, I put together an emergency hutch for the cat we've named Hungry Jack who insisted on sitting stubbornly under the table beside the front door waiting for his dinner. 

As I brought out the towel-wrapped trash bag covered storage crate, he crawled inside even as I carried it to a spot behind the lawn chair where he could still see the front door. The cat treats I'd scattered inside were a big hit and he stayed there for a while getting warm polishing off the bowl of Meow Mix inside.

Tony the cat watcher
Tony made sure he welcomed his feline guest with glares and stares from the dining room window.


Yesterday Hungry Jack visited the porch. Today, looks a bit different.


The Walkway
While we haven't seen any rain for months, it was a pleasant surprise to get an hour of rain before it turned into a white coating of powdery fluff that begs to become snowmen.
The Driveway






An ambush in the making.

 
Hoping your holidays are filled with happiness, family gatherings, love and cheer.

Sunday, November 18, 2012

A Cup of Special Tea with Friends


Tiny
Having a little slice of pound cake and a cup of special tea in my new favorite mug. Dare I show a picture here? It seems somehow sweetly familiar as if I've had this cup for a long time. I hold it easily and comfortably wrapped in my hands as the hot liquid warms my cold fingers.

The mug is new; a special gift, a reward for walking out in the cold this morning to take a picture of the sunrise.

Reaching into the spidery plastic mailbox, I was thrilled to spot a brown-paper wrapped package of sunshine peeking out. When I saw the return address my step quickened toward the house to reveal its mystery. I still had kitties to feed and had already stalled the 'inside critters' with stories that their canine breakfast would soon arrive.

Ms. Kitty and Tiny were the only ones that showed up for the buffet today and yesterday which is both good and bad. Jack has been missing meals for a couple of days now. He's a seasoned tom cat who knows his way around, but there are the local yokels who like to do burn outs on the back roads out here.



Ms. Kitty
Just another day in paradise here in the country. As the build next door continues slowly but ever pleasing in its beauty against the revised landscape of the setting sun.


Another one sinks into the watery lake and day is done.

Saturday, November 17, 2012

PegCole's Test Kitchen: Pumpkin Pie Cake

With the change to cooler weather the desire to start baking kicks in at my house.  I love a recipe that starts out with a yellow cake mix and adds pumpkin puree. The feed from Hub Pages this morning, showed this delicious recipe for Pumpkin Pie Cake or Pumpkin Smash.

After a quick comment to the author I headed straight into the kitchen and made this dessert following this well explained and beautiful recipe which combines two of my favorite things: cinnamon and eggs, into an aromatic pan of irresistible goodness. The recipe showed quality photos that illustrated special tips like what to look for when testing to see if it is done
Go ahead and enjoy it with absolutely NO calories (virtual version only). Yes, it is as good as it looks.

Here's the recipe link: The Best Pumpkin Pie Cake Recipe, Easy Pumpkin Smash by Natashalh on Hub Pages. I give it a Yum Rating of 5.


Here's how mine came out and my variations from the recipe:

The recipe calls for a 16 oz can of pumpkin puree but mine was just 15 ounces. The manufacturers must have changed the packaging quantity but the pumpkin pie cake turned out just fine all the same!

I had a glass baking dish that measured more like 16 x 9" (rather than the recommended 13 x 11" baking dish) which seemed to make very little difference.

Rather than use a medium sized mixing bowl to puree the pumpkin combination, I just used my immersion blender right in the saucepan in which I would bring the mixture to a boil.

 Then it went over medium heat where it slowly came to a boil.
And the rest is in the recipe. It was my first time to make a "dump cake" but it won't be my last. Easy and delicious. Pour the base into the greased glass baking pan.

Sprinkle the box cake mix over this base and

Then spread the melted butter over the dry mix and put it in to bake.

For 50 minutes at 350 degrees.
Try to let it cool a bit before serving.

Just a bit, if you can.
Yum.

Coffee Talk on Saturday Morning

Stacy David of the TV show Gears is talking about installing brake lines in his superlite race car project while my head set has Ann Margret singing "How Lovely to Be a Woman" from Bye Bye Birdie. It is a movie we watch whenever it airs on cable; the old version with Paul Lynd.

This has been a week of activity starting at 3am Monday morning when J headed out to the airport and San Jose CA. After an entire day of interviews with various principals from the hiring company, he did a technical presentation of the company's product to the group. He tucked a few of the slides received late Sunday afternoon into the powerpoint presentation that he had already prepared when they thoughtfully sent 75 slides for his perusal.

Tuesday was travel day heading back to Dallas via Phoenix, arriving at home at nearly 7 pm. Wednesday was a day to recover from the exertion and stress associated with four one-on-one interviews, lunch with the prospective manager and the product presentation. Now he waits again for the next move as he's done so many times before. This one takes the cake when it comes to jumping through hoops.

Wednesday was Doctor Day with the girls. The three of us headed out around 7:15 am for the medical clinic in Richardson. Our primary care physician (pcp) says the new Obama Care regulations are requiring doctors to spend more time on paperwork and therefore less time on their patients. He sat there filling out three forms for each woman as he explained that he is already seeing the pressure of the new requirements. To renew and continue the medications Mom and her sister have been taking for years, like blood pressure medication and thyroid medicine, they must submit for blood work and physicals more often.

At eighty seven and ninety two, it takes a lot of energy to fast all morning and get into the doctor's office to have blood drawn before having a first cup of coffee. They've put the girls in separate rooms this time so I sit with Louise since she can't see and is wheelchair bound. They ask me to join the doctor when he goes into the room with Mom. She's already told him she's 86. I correct it for the record.

Back in the room with Louise, the assistant asks me, "How old is she?" and once again I turn to Louise and ask her to tell the lady how old she is.

"I'm, um, ninety one." She says and looks to me for confirmation.

"Well now, Auntie, you're ninety two now." I remind her. The nurse scribbles it down on the paper.

During the visit, they're told that they must get glaucoma tests done every two years too. Doctor notes on the page he's filling out that he's notified them.

"There's a disclaimer somewhere that says 'Medicare may or may not pay for these tests'", according to Dr. Hussey, for things that may be required like a "Venous Doppler" to continue prescribing the blood pressure medication. These tests run thousands of dollars. Not a very positive impression of the new health care for elderly patients like these women who are still trying to make it on their own after a lifetime of working and contributing to the system.

The rest of the week was a breeze until I read that my Hubber friend Dusty Tibbs 50 Caliber has passed. Here's one dedicated to you today, Dusty, from Louis Armstrong, What a Wonderful World. Missing you already.

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

New Neighbors on All Sides of the Fence

You know how things seem to go along as usual for a time and then all of a sudden, major things change. That seems to be a certainty of life. Like the Texas weather, stick around, it'll change.

Over the past two weeks at our homestead, things have changed dramatically when it comes to neighbors.


Crandall's

First of all, the major landmark on the corner known as Crandall's went up for sale after some of the usual hollering and fussing that goes with a tenant leaving having no desire to do so. Trucks came and left, taking out load after load of teetering piles of poorly packed belongings. A few days later, a yellow notice went on the front door.

There has been a for sale sign in the yard for a month now and the house sits empty. A Constable has been to the door at least twice looking for someone. Plus I think I've inherited their leftover cats.

Then, the folks who bought Troy and Edie's house behind us have some new people living in their garage apartment. Tony has enjoyed the exercise of running to the fence and looking for the lady's dog, whom he calls Brandy. She is the girlfriend of his imagination.

This past week folks came out and staked out a section of the pasture behind their house and fenced it in with horse fencing. The area is directly in the view from my back porch, which, other than when Edie's front yard caught on fire, hasn't changed much in twenty plus years.

Well, the Popcorn Tree has grown quite large in that time; "See the tree how big it's grown".

That afternoon they brought a beautiful horse into the pasture so naturally I began to worry: there are no trees, no shelter, no shade for the animal. Which reminds me that I must soon capture the kitties and get them to the vet. Fortunately the temperatures are mild at this time of the year.

These are the best two weeks to visit weather wise here in Texas. Then came that torrential rain a couple of nights ago. Poor horsie. I was much relieved to watch them build a feed stall for the horse this week. Another new impact on the landscape: A corrugated steel shed and the silhouette of a horse on that side now. Not too bad.

Back in May, the proud new owner of the neighboring ten acres closer toward the lake knocked on our door and introduced himself. He asked if we minded him trimming some of our trees that hung over the fence line. I thought that was really considerate and thoughtful of him. Over the past few months, he and his family have followed exactly what we did when we first bought our property. We camped out here on the weekends, mowing a patch of grass here and there on the huge chunk of land envisioning our future homestead. They have barbecued and laughed and planned their way toward their dream home which has broken ground this week after they finished building the perimeter fence.


Early Saturday morning, just after seven, I heard heavy machinery operating nearby. Now that is an unusual happening out here in the boonies; to hear the roar of a cement mixer rev up its engine and start to drop its load. We peered out of our second story window to view the work in progress. All week there had been workmen on the neighboring property who built the wood frame and tied in iron rod for the structural support of the foundation now being poured.

Before long our view will be permanently altered to include their residence now fully in progress. I'm grateful that they placed the base of the house far enough back where we still can enjoy the view from the front porch. That was a major concern while we freely enjoyed the unimpaired view of sunset for the past two decades.

Welcome to the neighborhood.


Thursday, July 26, 2012

Wish You Were Here

Feeling in the mood for some tunes this morning. Thought I would share a couple of them here as I write. Pink Floyd sings it well.

The Beach
I hold on to many good memories of the time when I was considered family, shared meals, beachside barbecues, all of us reading The Mephisto Waltz, later treking to the movie theater in St. Petersburg to watch it together.

That was the summer the deck was built to connect the sandspur ridden path from the beach, winding between the sea oats abundant that year before arriving at the back of the cottage where the glass door led to the kitchen. A table with an umbrella called quietly for a long read of the Sunday Newspaper listening to the screach of sea gulls swarming over stale crusts of bread. 

London Broil was baking in the oven; the finest of dishes were eaten while wearing sandy swimsuits and flip flops and singing the tunes of the day playing on the radio. The pulsating shower head in the downstairs bath: drilling away the salt; stinging the fresh sunburn; washing clean all the cares of the world. And for that brief moment I belonged.

That was a beautiful summer; the Summer of '69.

Paul Mauriat, "Love is Blue" 1968