Daughter and Grandson

Vero’s Biscuits

Vero, a blogging friend, wrote about her biscuits. The huge difference between hers and standard biscuits is that she used vegetable oil instead of solid shortening. I had to try it. I knew I had self-rising flour in the cabinet, only I didn’t. As Vero suggested, regular flour could be used if you added baking powder. Handling the dough was easy for me, because I’ve made biscuits regularly for 60 years. Normally I have spaces between my biscuits, but Vero said to use a round pan. I was shocked at how high the biscuits rose. These broke the record for me. The taste? As good as my Dad’s recipe. I’m sure many people I know would prefer Vero’s, because they were light and fluffy without much crust. I like crusty things. I plan to use her recipe again, using a cookie sheet but putting the biscuits close together. It’s fun to experiment, because even mistakes can be eaten and enjoyed.

The link to Vero’s biscuits is VERO’S BISCUITS | ~ VERO’S KITCHEN ~

Things have changed since I last linked a post, and I’m not sure this will work. Good luck.

A Special Labor Day

I thought there would be eleven of us to share a cookout at noon, but Joyce let us know that the new neighbors were not coming. The man told Joyce that his fiancee was out of town and wouldn’t be back until afternoon. He intended to come down to meet the rest of us, but we heard his Jeep leave while we were eating.

When Shawn thought I’d be awake, she texted that she and Bob had not slept during the night, and she had taken him to the hospital at 5:30 in the morning.

At 10:00 I contacted Holly to see if she, Bob’s brother Tom, and Denise were coming. Holly wondered if we could postpone the gathering to the weekend. I replied that I was prepared for today. In the back of my mind was three pounds of potato salad in the refrigerator, among other reasons. She decided she could come, but within an hour said she was still in her pajamas and was very tired. She had been through a lot this week and probably needed a 5-day weekend.

I knew Joyce was planning to come, and D said they would be here no matter what. They brought their grill to my porch yesterday. Our crowd had shrunk to four, but it was a close-knit four. During the meal Shawn let us know that Bob had a heart attack and will be in the hospital several days. D said we should pray, so we joined hands, and Joyce prayed for Bob’s healing. Even though all the neighbors were not physically there, we had never been closer.

Invisible Ink

I am still going to physical therapy three times a week, hoping to strengthen my back and quit hunching over. A few days ago I was horrified to realize I put my hand on my bed to steady myself EVERY time I walked around it. Each time I caught myself doing that, I jerked my hand away as if it had touched a hot skillet. Unfortunately, it was such a habit that just telling myself to keep hands off did not work at all. A visible reminder was obligatory, and the sign is now on the bed.

Can you read it? Well, of course you can’t. It says in big bold letters on both sides DO NOT TOUCH! I used invisible ink – more than that – imaginary invisible ink. I don’t need to read it, but simply to be reminded to keep my hands off.

Funny Foods

The dental hygienist rinsed my mouth out thoroughly, saying the chemical she had used did not taste good. She did such a good job that I didn’t taste anything at all. I began to think of things that I found repulsive and couldn’t think of one for several minutes. Radishes popped into my mind, and that is a taste I can live without. John liked them and was always glad to find them in a restaurant salad.

Then there was the time I ordered meatloaf in a good restaurant in Asheville and could hardly swallow it. I asked the server if there was lamb in it. He checked with the chef, and yes, there was ground lamb and ground beef in it. I knew what to do then – take it home and let John have it. He loved lamb, but he didn’t like that meatloaf. Would you agree that an unusual ingredient should be mentioned on the menu? I would have avoided that dish if I had known it was contaminated with lamb.

Messy foods can be amusing, too. I reheated one of the four hamburgers I had cooked on the grill. When I opened the package of buns, I found I had taken hot dog buns out of the freezer instead of hamburger buns. Easy fix, or so I thought. I cut one in half and assembled the burger on it. The first bite pushed the meat out the other side, so I took the second bite from the back. The mustard went this way and that, mostly falling on the plate. What a mess! It wouldn’t have been bad if I’d brought utensils out to the porch, but I used my fingers followed by two napkins. What is the messiest food you’ve ever eaten? Did anybody laugh?

Mysterious Path

I moved some oak limbs to the corner of the property and saw this pathway for the first time. It wasn’t there a week ago. It goes from the back of the shed to a large bush. The only beings that I know that have been there are the men who mow the lawn and a family of skunks. Since I don’t want the skunks in my yard, I hope the men made this odd path. But why????

Daily Contact

I don’t remember how we got started, but neighbor Shawn, niece Chrissie, and I play Wordle and Connections on our phones. We text our results from across the street and across the country in Utah. I wouldn’t want to see hard statistics, but I feel like we are very well-matched. Once in a while we all make the same high score, and other times one will totally fail. It’s the comments that bring it all to life. We congratulate each other or tell something that is going on in our lives. Daily contact like that is irreplaceable.

One day Shawn did exceptionally well, finishing Wordle on the third line and getting the Connections perfectly. I did not do well, commenting that it took me twice as long as the others. Shawn wrote, “But you got it!! You can’t be the QUEEN every day.” She included a laughing face.

I replied, “Right. I don’t want to be Queen every day! Some days I’d like to be the favorite dog.”

Her reply was instantaneous. It was a photo of her pet Izzie with the caption of “the favorite dog”. Chrissie and I got a kick out of that, and the day continued with a burst of laughter.

Hamburgers on the Grill

At some point my physical therapist will ask what I cooked for dinner the previous day. Of course he is interested in food, since he has an associate’s degree in culinary arts. My meals are so unmemorable that I often fumble for an answer. This time I will be prepared, because I thought my grilled hamburger was as good as I had hoped. I remembered to get the meat and buns out of the freezer first thing in the morning, so they were ready when I was that afternoon. The grill is on the back porch and needed only a light dusting before being preheated. To prevent a careless mistake, I timed everything.

I laughed at myself as I stood waiting to put the meat on the grill. As usual, my back was bent. I said, “You silly thing! Stand up straight, or you’ll have to tell the PT that you weren’t paying attention!”

He won’t ask, but my big mouth will probably confess it eagerly. I’m not going to write a book, but if I did, I’d probably name it “Unprovoked Confessions”. I think that is a cut above “Me and my Big Mouth”.

Physical Therapy

A patient was talking about people who cheat at checkout registers, saying there are no consequences when someone leaves without paying. She said, “They don’t even call the police!”

My physical therapist repeated a story a man told him. He used the self-check line at Walmart. Everything went as usual until he finished paying and started to walk away. Suddenly the alarm at the register went off, and he froze. He knew he had paid correctly, but he didn’t know what to do. An employee nearby saw his hesitancy and yelled, “RUN!!”

The other patients and I laughed, but I’ll bet we all wanted to know what happened. Since the first comment prompted the second story, the answer must be that nothing happened. Nearly all the patients I’ve seen have joined in the banter, making the hour fly by. Most of us come three times a week, so we have met each other a time or so, as our appointments overlap.

The therapist and office manager are full of fun, but they are also sensitive to people’s needs. If someone doesn’t join in, there is no pressure. I’ve noticed one man struggles to do his exercises. He works really hard, because he has much to overcome. When he leaves, the therapist always bumps fists with him, telling him he has done a good job. The office manager comes around her desk and gives him a strong hug. It is touching that they are so very supportive. They have made it a place of joy and healing.

De-vining in the Rain

I don’t have time to work in the garden on days that I have physical therapy. I came home, fixed lunch, and was sitting at the table on the porch when I realized the air wasn’t very hot. The sun was behind clouds. I changed shoes and went out to cut the shoots from the base of the Wicked Wisteria. I’ve had to do this several times already this year and was hoping I wouldn’t have to do it again. Up close, I could see that it was way past due. Heaven knows I don’t want that wicked thing to expand even more! Thunder was in the background, and soon it began to sprinkle. I kept cutting those shoots as the rain fell on my back. Actually, it felt quite nice. I quit when the thunder got closer, having finished what I set out to do.

It was lovely to get a cold drink and relax on the porch. Lightning hit not far away, and then wind whipped around. It blew rain to the middle of the table, leaving droplets on my glasses, as well as the phone and laptop. I might have retreated inside if it had gotten any more violent. That’s when daughter Kate called to chat. While we talked, the sun came out shortly before it went behind the western mountain. The storm cooled things off, though it was quite humid. Droplets on the table were still visible a couple of hours later. I am inordinately pleased to have done a garden job on a day I didn’t expect to do anything useful.