Southern Ladies' Luncheon

Oh boy!  It's time for my bosses' wife to have her famous ladies' luncheon again and today is the day.  Our office is situated in the upstairs portion of their home, so all of the heavenly aromas from the kitchen waft up the stairs to tickle our noses.  It's pure torture, let me tell you!

The guests start to arrive and it's so hilarious to listen to everyone coming in the door.  Southern women's voices are so much fun to listen to, especially when you yourself are not originally from the South.  The accents and funny sayings that come out of their mouths are so endearing.  Listening to it all reminds me so much of my Oklahoma Grandma and the way she used to talk and carry on.  She always said the sweetest and funniest things.  Just listening to her speak with that sweet, southern twang would bring a smile to your face.

The arrivals have been a noisy hoot!  Everyone talking and exclaiming at once, finishing each other's sentences and laughing and carrying on.  All the ladies make their way into the kitchen where they load up their plates with a bountiful feast that Martha Stewart herself couldn't have prepared any better!  Turkey Divan, potatoes au gratin, green beans, corn casserole, pasta salad, jello salad, muffins and bread and two kinds of cake for dessert.  My heavens!

The house gets quieter as everyone makes their way into the dining room and starts eating their wonderful foods.  Afterward, while everyone sits there wondering why in the world they ate so much, they visit and catch up on who's who and what's what.  Then the departures begin, which are noisier by far than the arrivals.  Everyone hugs goodbye and thanks the gracious hostess for the fine feast and fellowship.

I hope she has time for a nap after all this commotion.  She sure deserves it! 

Love Love Love

I don't know who wrote this beautiful poem, but I came across it this morning in an email that someone had forwarded, and wanted to share.  Hope you find some love today.

Love is such a precious thing.

It's fragile and it's rare.

It damages so easily,

so handle it with care!

It's free to those who seek it.

There's enough for all to share.

The more that love is given out,

the more there is to spare.

Inspired

I was telling a sweet friend this morning that I haven't been feeling too inspired to write in my blog lately.  After I said that, I thought to myself, "Why not?"  Lord knows I have so many things that inspire me on a daily basis!  A hilarious husband and his constant comic relief, the cutest ever floppy-faced bulldog, three loud-mouthed donkeys and the ever-inspiring surroundings at our peaceful little home on the hollow.  What more inspiration could a person ask for?

This weekend was an especially nice one.  Saturday, while Hubby was at work, Duds and I spent the day cleaning house, doing laundry, working on projects and watching tv.  That night we watched a marathon of spooky ghost stories on television that had us both on edge.  Dudley's ears would go back when the eerie music played during dramatic moments on the show, and any little bump in the house had us both jumping out of the chair we were cuddling in.  At one point Dudley decided to walk room to room, just to make sure all was safe and sound.  Most of the lights were off throughout the house, but I had left a candle burning in the bathroom.  When Duds got to the bathroom door, he nudged it open with his head and started barking and growling at the reflection of the flame flickering in the bathroom mirror.  His ears were back and his hair was bristling as he huffed and growled.  I couldn't resist scaring him even more, so I grabbed a set of keys and launched them into the air toward the bathroom.  I never saw him move so fast in all his days!  He came flying back into the living room with his hind-end tucked under, barking like crazy.  It was hilarious.  Up on my lap he jumped and there he stayed the rest of the night.

Sunday morning we woke to the sound of donkeys hee-hawing for breakfast and a frisky dog jumping all over our bed.  Note to self:  black-out blinds for the windows and earplugs.  The boys went out to feed the long-eared hayburners and I made the bed and started breakfast.  Hubby built a fire out back, and I straightened up the house and got dressed while the bacon fried.  The neighbors came by with their pup and Dudley was in heaven.  They romped and chased each other through the yard, rolled in the hay and slobbered all over each other until they were both soaking wet and out of breath.  Breakfast was on hold while we bathed and dried Dudley and after everyone had full bellies, Hubby hung his hammock out back between two trees and grabbed a big denim comforter and two pillows and went outside for a nap.  Dudley collapsed at the foot of my chair and was soon snoring away, while I enjoyed flipping through the latest issue of my Country Living magazine.

Later, when Hubby woke up, I went into town to visit a couple of my favorite antique stores.  Country Living magazine always inspires me, and I was on the hunt for a few special things.  As always, I came home with treasures.  While in town, I stopped at the store to get the ingredients for Hubby's famous salsa and Sunday evening was spent with a good friend of ours who came by to help us make about 20 jars.  The whole house smelled like hot peppers and garlic and we had to open the windows to breathe.  We made two separate batches - one flaming hot, tongue blistering batch for Hubby and one toned-down version for our friend.

That night we laid in bed with Dudley snuggled between us, him laying on his back with his legs up in the air, us listening to his hypnotic snores and the popping of the lids on the jars of salsa cooling on the kitchen counter.  Peaceful, happy and contented after our inspiring weekend of love.

Apparently, I'm old!

I learned something new today.  Something terrifying, even.  I'm old!  It was so shocking to me that I could be considered "old."  Me?  No way!  I don't even think of my own Mother as old.  She's still the same sweet, bubbly, young Mom she's always been.  39 forever!  She doesn't even sound old over the phone!  She has this happy twinkle in her voice that couldn't be mistaken for old by anyone that heard it.

My bosses' son, who is 21 now, informed me of this tragic news about me being old.  Yes, he kinda makes me feel old, especially since I remember when he was just four years old and the cutest little shy thing, hiding behind his mother's skirts.  Now he's all grown up with a deep voice, about 10 feet tall and working here at our office.  But he must have poor eyesight if he thinks I'm old, right?  I bet he needs glasses.

I remember when we first moved here to Tennessee.  I was in my 20's and one of my co-workers called me "Ma'am" for the first time.  Now that made me feel old!  I was mortified that he would call me ma'am and I chastised him for it and told him never to call me that again.  I didn't know then that he was just being a southern gentleman.  My bosses' children would call me "Miss Toni."  Even that initially offended me.  It sounded like something I would have called my kindergarten teacher, and I didn't think of myself as old enough to be referred to as "Miss."  But again, it was a southern thing that I eventually got used to.  Now it's endearing.

Yes, I see a gray hair or two popping up now and again, and yes, I do have more defined laugh lines then I used to.  I do have aches and pains I never had before, and I am noticing I don't remember things as good as I used to, but I still don't feel like I'm old!  It's just so distressing to think that someone considers me old.

I guess I better call and reserve my room at the local nursing home since I'm on my way to over-the-hill.  I might as well stop by Walgreens for a cane while I'm at it, because surely I'll be needing that soon too.  Thanks a lot, young whippersnapper, for making me feel old.  You sure know how to brighten my day. . . NOT!  I'm so depressed. . .

See a penny, pick it up. . .

All day long you'll have good luck!

I was driving to work this morning and a man on the radio was talking about this new proposal that has been presented to the government in order to get rid of the penny and the nickel.  Apparently, the government spends way too much making pennies, so they are proposing to eliminate it altogether.  The proposal recommends that the value of the penny be changed to five cents in order to start getting it out of the currency system.  Every penny would be worth five cents!  Same goes for getting rid of the nickel.  Every nickel would be worth ten cents!  Eventually, once they are all turned in, there would be no more pennies or nickels.

Wouldn't that be a great idea?  Hubby and I have always had a big glass water jug that we use to collect our spare change.  He empties out his pockets at the end of the day, and once a week I clean out the bottom of my purse and we plunk it down into the jar.  Once in a while, we'll get it about halfway full and take it down to the grocery store, standing at the coin exchange machine for half an hour pouring all the change down the chute.  We're always amazed at how little change turns into so much paper money!  One time the jar was only a little over half way full and we got over $250 back.  It was thrilling!

Maybe we'll get lucky and our glorious elected officials will help this proposal actually come to fruition.  We'll all be rich!  (or at least a little richer than we were before!)

A Dog's Life

Who came up with the saying, "Work like a dog?"  None of my dogs ever worked a day in their lives!  Sure, they act like they're helping me around the house now and then, but really all they're doing is following me around from room to room, standing by my side while cooking dinner in hopes of catching a scrap or two, stealing socks from the laundry basket and barking at the vacuum cleaner.

All Dudley ever does is sleep and snore.  It's what he does best, and he's so cute while doing it!  I guess that's his job, working hard at being cute and irresistible!

Gotta love him!

It was the best day ever. . .

until Dudley swallowed another sock!

Hubby rarely gets to be home with us on weekends because of his work, so this weekend was especially nice since he was home both days.  We slept in (as long as the donkeys would let us) and lazied around in our pj's.  Hubby built a nice fire out back and we sat out there with Duds and drank our coffee, listening to the birds sing.  The weather was perfect.  I fixed us a nice breakfast and while we were feasting on pancakes and bacon, Dudley had a big bowl of his favorite kibble and the donkeys munched on hay and sweet feed.  Everyone was happy and content on the hollow.

We went back inside and I was doing dishes, Hubby was watching football and Dudley was up to no good, chewing on something he shouldn't be chewing on behind Daddy's chair.  Hubby turned around to see what Duds had in his mouth and then I heard "No! No!" and a couple not-so-nice words and then my name being yelled in a not-so-nice way.  I came running in from the kitchen and there hanging limply from Hubby's fingertips was one of my socks, soaked in slobber.  Hubby had pulled it out of Dudley's mouth just as he was getting ready to swallow it.  Uh oh. . .

Of course we both went into panic mode and poor Dudley was cowering behind the chair because he knew he'd done something dreadfully wrong.  One sock was still unaccounted for and we tore the living room apart looking underneath chairs, the ottoman and the couch.  We paced room to room, worried and fretted and willed the sock to magically appear, but it was nowhere to be found.   We just KNEW Dudley had already swallowed it.  Hubby got madder and madder.  "You know better than to leave your socks around where he can get them!"  "I know, I know, I'm sorry!"  I also knew better than to bring up the fact that I've picked up many a Hubby-sock here and there and not to point out that I'm not the only one around here that leaves socks laying around.  No need to poke the angry giant!  And why in the world does a dog eat a sock anyway?  Sheesh!

I remembered the breeder we bought Duds from had told me what to do in case he ever swallowed something he wasn't supposed to.  He had mentioned a couple tricks to get Duds to throw up, and for the life of me, I couldn't remember either one.  So, I called him and he reminded me that one trick was to feed him something super greasy, and the other was to pour a little peroxide down his throat.  I hung up the phone and Hubby went to get the peroxide. 

Poor little Dudley just sat there and took it like a man as Daddy squirted that nasty peroxide into his mouth.  He walked around a little and shook his head and we paced and worried some more.  I busied myself in the kitchen, trying to avoid Hubby's wrath, and Duds followed me in there.  I guess he felt I was the safer parent to be around at the time.  I came around the kitchen island just in time to see a huge pile of up-chuck in the floor and squealed with delight!  Duds had thrown up and there in the middle of all the muck was the missing sock!  Praise the Lord!  I never thought I'd be so glad to have a dog throw up on my kitchen floor!  We were so relieved.

So, our peaceful day had a little hitch in it, but things eventually calmed down and returned to normal.  Dudley crawled up on Daddy's lap and I finished cleaning the kitchen and soon they were both snoring away.  Whew!

I promise, I'll be more careful with my socks!