November 25, 2013

Simply said, "Thank you"...

Gratitude.  For some its comes easily, others not quite so.  But nonetheless, it's something that we as a nation collectively come together at this time of year to celebrate.  Or perhaps better yet, to recognize and contemplate. 

 

It seems to me at times that these days there's much less thankfulness than there should be.  Much more taking for granted and even more selfishness than there should be.  So it's a good thing that we celebrate once a year the notion of thankfulness.

 

Traditionally Thanksgiving is a time of decadent feeding frenzies.  But it isn't all about the roasted turkey, brimming dishes of mashed potatoes and candied yams. (Though I will state for the record that the latter has never been one of my favorite indulgences.) 

 

I recall the times when mom could be heard in the kitchen at 4:00 a.m. preparing the 20 pound turkey that would roast slowly, tickling our tastebuds all morning long, and satisfy a multitude of hungry folks later in the day.  A plethora of pies would line the countertops and side dishes of every sort were lovingly prepared.

 

But it isn't always about the feast.  There have been Thanksgivings that I've spent far from my family, or with close friends or even by myself.  Those times have given me the opportunity for quiet introspection to truly grasp what is most important.

 

I remember the year that our family trip to the annual family gathering that was shattered by a last minute snow storm that grounded us at home.  That was the year, when caught unprepared, that we feasted on a dinner of meatloaf and baked potatoes.  I will add that it was the most delicious meatloaf I'd ever tasted.

 

We were together and that's all that mattered.

 

Other years my family welcomed to our table those without a family with which to share Thanksgiving.  Friendships were forged and bonds made that would last a lifetime.  Because that's what Thanksgiving is all about.

 

I am grateful for so many things. But at the top of  my list this year is my loving family, wonderful friends and a terrific community of caring souls in which we live,  who have all been there through thick and thin. 

 

Because that's what it's all about.

 

Thank you.  I am truly grateful.

November 18
All Things Gone with the Wind.....

I know why they're called leaves.  When those lovely green appendages reach the end of their lives and the trees let loose of them they sure do scatter in a hurry and leave crunchy carpet piles in their wake. 

When I was a kid we never raked them up.  Dad's credo was that the good Lord  put them there and he'll surely take them away.  And I must say that this fall he has done his best to accomodate by providing plenty of hefty winds to scatter them hither and yon.

But I'll admit that due to the sheer bulk of leaves this year in my yard that I've had three sessions of leaf abatement this fall.  I don't know where they all came from and I must say that among the plethora of maple leaves from my own trees, I spied a few oak leaves as I raked.  Now I know there aren't any oak trees in the near vicinity of my neighborhood, but I guess Mother Nature decided to share the wealth so I can't complain.  

Dried leaves are truly lovely with their array of colors and shapes and I love them all. There's hardly anything quite as satisfying as shuffling through a pile of dried leaves. It's almost like breaking a path in freshly fallen snow.

This year son Patrick ran his nifty leaf sweeper over the lawn and together we removed three brimming truck loadfuls and a trailerful initially.  Then a few weeks later, pending a forecast of snow I attempted another round of leaf removal just hours before the white stuff fell atop them.  Satisfied that I'd taken care of them for the year, I was disappointed when the trees deposited yet another rusty blanket  on the yard.  So in a third round I raked them up for the final time this year. 

My leaves joined the mountain of leaves at the tree dump.  Aren't we fortunate to have such a wonderfully maintained tree brush dump in our community?  It's open for anybody in city limits to access.  In the past there were problems with inappropriate dumping there so it was locked up and accessible only by visiting city hall for the key.  Three cheers to the responsible use by citizens now, which allows for open access to the dump at all times.

Frankly I never understood the concept of stuffing ones leaves into big plastic bags just like trash when they make such perfect mulch.  But leaving a thick blanket of leaves to smother the tender grass isn't a great idea either.  I look at raking leaves like having a good aerobic workout. It's a win-win situation I suppose.

When my kids were little we'd rake the biggest pile of leaves possible and then take turns leaping into them.  It's one of life's greatest joys enjoyed by not only the littlest ones.  Yes you'd emerge with itchy  leaves down your back and in your hair but it was oh so much fun. 

This year intent on removing them, alas I didn't take the time to do any leaf pile jumping.  I'll admit  though that it was tempting to scale the towering mountain of leaves at the dump and wallow in them  just a bit. 

I restrained myself.  But it wasn't easy.

November 11, 2013

Deer Hunting Marks Beginning of Holiday Season

It's that time of year again:  the thermometer registers "brrr", snow flakes are in the air, and chili is on the stove. 

Yes, folks, it's deer hunting season.

When I was growing up my dad took an annual deer hunting excursion "up north" every year.  It was one of the few times that he ever went anywhere without my mom and a time that we kids anticipated eagerly.  

It wasn't because we didn't want Dad around.  My little brother in fact wanted to go hunting with him so keenly that he even tried stowing away in the trunk of the car one year.

No, the reason we loved deer hunting weekend was because of the annual "shopping" trip that we kids and mom took to the local hardware store every year at that time.  As soon as the taillights of dad's car had disappeared from view we'd bundle into the car and off we'd go to Fleet,  transformed magically for the Christmas season, (which I might add, never began before the start of deer hunting season in November), from an ordinary farm supply store to a veritable toyland delight.

Filled with all manner of goodies for our eyes to feast upon, it was Christmas come to life from top to bottom.  Lights twinkling everywhere, music lilting throughout the store, toy boxes piled as high up as we could see.

 Mom would keep an eagle eye on us all as we leapt through the aisles one after another dreaming of just what might be......of the things that could be, just might be....our very own.

There's nothing wrong with dreaming and wishing and hoping.  It's what makes the REAL things in life so much sweeter after all.  Window shopping was usually about all that happened on those deer hunting weekends, though mom always made sure we all came home with one trinket or another. 

The annual deer hunting weekend toy shopping adventure provided mom with some very vital information; you might even say she had ulterior motives for this traditional rendezvous:  to discover what each of us kids wanted the very most...and what was a the top of our Christmas lists that year.

That was in November.  Days and weeks flew by and all the begging and wishing and hoping faded.  By the time Christmas rolled around you can imagine the delighted and surprised children that we were when we opened our special gifts one at a time on Christmas morning. 

It's just what we always wanted!! I wonder how our parents knew??

November 4, 2013
Variety stores were treat to the senses

Slayton has a brand new store and its shelves are filled with all manner of goods.  It’s truly exciting to have this addition to our town’s retail armada. I just love variety stores.  There’s nothing quite like our beloved Hometown Variety, Loopy’s, and now the brand new Family Dollar store.

               

Wandering through the maze of aisles in any one of these stores brings to mind two of the favorites from my hometown: Woolworth’s and Ben Franklin’s.  When I was a youngster, stepping through their doors was always an exciting experience for me.

The Woolworth “dime store” was amazing – a true one-stop shopping store.  There you could find clothing, hardwares, household items, gift items, record albums, office supplies, yard goods, and so much more. 

Of course one of my favorite spots was the Brach’s candy counter-a veritable sweet tooth fantasy, that was located strategically in the front of the store.   There shoppers could purchase chocolates by the pound – filling a bag from the bulk varieties.  

Mmmm, I can still smell the delightful confections tickling my nose.

Woolworth’s even had a soda fountain and café with booths, counter and barstools.  On the counters bubbled tanks filled with delicious soda varities.  Waitresses bustled to and fro refilling coffee cups and waiting on diners.  A treat for me and my siblings was to drop in while Dad was coffee breaking with his work buddies. 

It was there that I had my very first experience sipping soda through a straw.  Granted I was but a toddler, but I recall sidling up to my orange soda and instead of sucking in on the straw, I blew on it and sprayed orange drink all over.  Other times we’d enjoy a delicious cup of hot chocolate that was topped off with a generous spurt of real whipped cream.  Nothing quite as tasty in my opinion!

But perhaps the best thing about the store was located in the far back corner.  That's where I could most often be found when it was time to leave.  It was the fish and pet department.  There I’d be hang out for as long as I was allowed, chatting with the delightful mina bird and mesmerized by the vast varieties of tropical fish in the huge tanks. 

Fascinating indeed. 

Down the street a ways was the aged Ben Franklin store.  I can still hear the creaking old wooden floors in that wonderful store. The aisles were close together in the dimly lit store but one knew where everything was located and you could find what you wanted without fail.  Not, I might add, like the super stores of today where one can wander aimlessly and often in vain to locate something.

Being the creative soul that I was, it was where I always shopped for yarn and other crafting supplies.  The Ben Franklin store stocked Red Heart yarns and embroidery thread of every hue imaginable and it was truly a magical feast for my eyes.

Sights, sounds, smells, tastes – to this day my senses recall them all so very vividly. Indeed I will never forget any one of them.

Those stores of my youth are so dear to my heart.  Perhaps that is why I delight that there are still such shopping experiences available right here in our town.  If you haven’t tried shopping them I suggest you do so.  Perhaps you too will fall in love with them. 

I, for one, am sold on the old fashioned variety store.  As we enter the gift giving season, why not give them a try and you may be as well!