Tag Archives: no whining allowed

Summer drop-out

Summer drop-out

Ho-kay; done with the dreams.  Moving on now.

summer beauty

Its summer, the time of year we follow the sun running like fools until we drop in front of the BBQ pit at 8 o’clock at night in our best imitation of Wonder Woman.  No matter it’s not dark for another hour or so, the clock is still ticking and there’s fun to be had.

crazy summer

Well this year I’m opting out.  In honor of my grandmothers’ legacies, I’m going more Southern Lady in the Shade, sweet tea in one hand, sewing needles in the other.  I’m done trying to reach marketing geniuses ideas of summer fun.  I live in south Texas where temperatures are still hovering around 100 degrees at 10:30 at night. Nuff said.


Climate change or cyclical anomalies, whatever, never seem to be factored into TV commercials; and it’s a crying shame manufacturers are trying to sell uncontrollable joy and the ultimate outdoor gladiator experience in this kind of heat.

Greed is the sweaty little merchandise king with the leather whip driving this maniacal ship, and I want off!

I’m headed back inside my tortoise shell with the air blasting.  I’m going to OD on Discovery ID Crime and Food Network Cooking shows.  I’m going to sew until Charlotte, my Bernina, screams.  I’m going to quilt until my fingers bleed.  I’m going to make about 1,000 salads and learn my way around Cool Whip cakes and Jello Fluffs.

I’m not going to try to keep up with anyone.

keeping up with summer fashion

I don’t care what anyone else thinks.

aunt bea whatever look

I’m pulling the plug on social politeness.

dont cross me

Stand back girls, I’m going in!


A New Chapter in an Old Book

A New Chapter in an Old Book

Heelllooo!  Having circled the drain for months, I am back as strong and stubborn as a Borax and liquid Dawn resistant stained shower stall!

dirty shower stall


Let me start by saying I’ve absolutely NO intention of returning to health-worry purgatory ever again!  As miserable as it’s been, I must admit I have learned a great deal about myself, and others, while suspended in the goo of uncertainty amidst approximately a million gloom-and-doom predictions from a team of expert bearers of bad news. 

grim reaper


I won’t try to fib here; it wasn’t easy trying to find a way to turn this level of manure into something less offensive, but long story short, we did it, and almost as soon as we did, we discovered Rich DOES NOT have ALS, in spite of about a million and one contradictory diagnostic indicators, and a million and two test results supporting that miserably serious contention, and about a million and three earnest specialists working diligently to prepare us for the fact that he did.


And, oh by-the-way, that coronary artery of mine, the one the cardiologist punctured during a stent insertion three days before Rich’s tentative diagnosis, is healing nicely now, and every day I feel a little more like my old self, (except that now I’m living 100% in the world according to itty).

burst pipe


When the whole drama began I was living life through a lovely filter, and during the Four Month Wars I came to appreciate the benefits of having chosen to do so many years ago.  Throughout the ordeal, I successfully fine-tuned the comforting perimeters of my mental Mayberry existence by using the greater world’s insensitivities and arrogances that spin like tornados as motivation.


Surprisingly, I discovered real peace in the horrible truths that scalded Rich and I almost daily, realizing and embracing there was nothing, absolutely nothing that anyone could say that could change the time we spent together.  Whether time is spent playing or meeting the physical needs of one another, it remained time spent together.


There are consequences to every life lesson, and Rich and I have emerged with a short  list of Things to Do resulting from this slight twist in our path through life, (and beyond), together.

loving old couple


Morgan, our granddaughter who lives with us, is moving into an apartment on her university’s campus to finish her senior year, and Rich and I are down-sizing for an eminent move to Texas where our children are waiting with open arms.  Morgan will join us all later, doing her graduate work there.


I am so excited to get to share this new adventure with my readers!  I’m even more excited about life in general these days.  Back on the home front, Aunt-Bea-Me is comfortably sitting on half of the double recliner, rose-colored-lenses in place, the Food Network murmuring softly in the background, as she compiles a list of details necessary to pull off yet another glorious life-style change.


In the kitchen for tonight, a new diabetic friendly recipe for Orange Chicken!  And two loaves of wheat bread rising.


Lord-of-mercy, my friends, it’s good to be back.


happy face


Aunt-Bea-Me’s Pearl of the Day:  Sometimes it’s necessary to deafen your ears to the roar of the storm, and instead to appreciate the soft breeze slipping through imperfect window panes.




Pots. Pans. Portals.


I’m afraid I’ve accidentally opened some sort of intergalactic territorial gateway separating my little house in Arkansas, from Aunt Bea’s in Mayberry, R.F.D., (Rural Free Delivery), which exists to this day, on a distant plane, in a parallel universe.  Either that, or I’ve been possessed by Aunt Bea’s ghostly spirit who, apparently dissatisfied with the lack of need for domestic expediency in the after world, psychically picked up my vibes of admiration for her mastery levels in both familial and domestic skills.  Perhaps the pull between us was too much for time and logistical realities to ignore.  Or maybe I just quit trying to blend.

What we believe magically becomes our truth, and in my heart of hearts, I believe I am an absolute mirror reflection of Aunt Bea.  Lying in a hospital bed compiling a laundry list of Worst Case Scenarios, I decided to set my inner Aunt Bea free.  It was an idea I’d been toying around with for the last couple of years.  The challenge up until that particular point, was that I believed in order to be Aunt Bea, I needed the presence of my children.  (That darned empty nest nearly killed me.)

Morgan filled the gap from time to time, coming and going as educational realities ricocheted from Texas to Arkansas, to Texas, and back again, but the addition of a significant other, Charlie in this case, put a new spin on things at our house, and this time Rich and I held hands as we were sucked back into the tunnel of an ever-fluctuating nest.

It was a light bulb moment when I quit being afraid of all the changes that lie ahead, and effortlessly, there she was: Aunt Bea Me, giddy to continue my crazy love affair with domestic bliss!




Rich is taking me out to dinner tonight, so the kitchen’s closed until we sneak back in to raid the fridge for left-overs of last night’s yummy dessert!  The Heavenly Pumpkin Spice Cake was as easy to make as it was to eat, nearly orgasmic, making Aunt Bea blush.  Today she’s still smiling!

happy face


Note to Self…shine!


I cannot rave loud enough about the flavor in the Light-as-a-Feather Zucchini Casserole I made last night!  It was marvelous.  If there was one thing I might have changed was its consistency.  It was a bit like eating mashed potatoes.  Next time, instead of grating the zucchini, I think I’ll try large-dicing it in hopes of adding a bit more texture.  The Panko crust was crunchy and delicious, I just wanted more to ‘chew’ with my teeth.

By the way, nutritionally for my diabetic friends, the food exchange for the dish included 1 vegetable, 1 lean meat and 1 carb choice.  For Weight Watchers it is only 2 plus points!  At only 90 calories, it was delish and very satisfying!

Homemade pizza tonight!  The dough is in the midst of a 30 minute rise, (the initial fermentation process as noted by the Culinary Institute of America). Since I’ve made it before, I still need to come up with something I’ve never fixed before in order to meet my goal of preparing something new every day.

Honestly, I don’t know how long I can endure all this experimentation, but I’ve only begun, so no whining.  Yet.

I think I’m going to add a wedge salad to the Pizza Entrée using iceberg lettuce and Classic French Dressing.  I’ve never made this particular salad dressing before, although years ago, my mother did.  I remember that it was delicious and did not remotely resemble the bottled stuff.

I’ve got to get back to a pillow project I began a month ago. I’m trying to brighten the couch in the living room.  It is old and pretty darned shabby, but it’s so far down the “Need to Replace List”, that I’m going to have to be creative with it for at least a couple more years.

My body is starting to bounce back from all the new drugs I’m taking.  I recently had a stent put in a coronary artery.  Fixing that put pep back in my step; but the real challenge for me is an irregular heartbeat that requires a lot of heavy stuff.  I’ve got more chemicals inside me than Monsanto!  It takes a while for the body to adjust. From time to time, I have what’s called micro infarcts that are like a mini stroke.  All this drug therapy is supposed to eliminate them, and I’m all for it!  Meanwhile,there’s nothing like laying in a hospital bed starring at the ceiling to inspire one to experience as much life as they’re lucky enough to have!; thus the inception of so many new goals.

Channeling Aunt Bea, her pearl for today is “The purpose of life is to be happy; so whistle or sing, and if you can’t do that, hum.  But for goodness sake girls, get out there and create something!