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My Mother had a Purple Suit
My Mother had a Purple Suit. But we only saw it once. Today I have to get some house work done. I am a butterfly housekeeper. I flit from room to room about the house, gently flapping my wings in the heat and wondering why it is that I have come to this room anyway…
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The day I almost married the Marlboro Man.
Do you remember The Marlboro Man? The cowboy hat, the look, oh God that look. Back in the bad old days before Politically Correct Behaviour and the ugly C word, there were cigarette advertisements. Shock, horror and all that. A long campaign for Marlboro Cigarettes featuring the sexiest men in the world. Well when I…
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Longing for scones
In my accent scone rhymes with long. Just so’s you know. This blogging is such a silent affair. Because we are not making a scone that rhymes with bone today we are going to make light fluffy scones for which we long! Am I getting weird? When I was growing up in the big house…
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More wine, less whine.
Illinois was the fourth largest producer of wine grapes in the US up until Prohibition in 1919. Johns Great-grandmother being one of those paid up card carrying tough old prohibition women. I even have her prohibition prayer cards to prove it somewhere around here. During this period many vineyards were ripped out and put into…
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Daisy lost in the cornfield and grandma’s rissole recipe,
So the pasture is beginning to wane a bit. Not as much grass. At this time of year we put a harness on Daisy, the milk cow to be, and take her on a dog leash into the wild long grass. I am not kidding, I wander along (she will not be hurried) leading this…
