Reflections in a wading pool

I sat down to make two lists...my resolutions for 2011 and the other...a Ta-Da list for 2011, but halfway through both...I ran out of paper. (What does that tell ya?) Searching madly through the house for anything to write on...I came up empty. Not to be undone, I snatched up the last remaining roll of toilet paper and began feverishly scribbling, only to have my train of thought interrupted by Cat Daddy yelling for that last crumby roll! Sheesh!

I now have to make a run to Walmart for a coupla Big Chief tablets and maybe a few Berol Black Beauties...so I'll have to catch y'all after the bull riding! If you're looking for something wonderful to read...go here. My baby girl just laid her heart out for all the world to read. (BTW...she doesn't believe in a dictionary or spellcheck...drives her mama crazy...but I love her anyway!)

From the Casita De Trash

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Just chillin'....

See y'all in 2011!

Visions Of Sugar Plums

On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me

Tartan and tinsel

Eleven ladies blogging

Tending to business

Nine reindeer name games

Eight ways to Sunday

Seven secret Santas

This chick a-crafting

These mem-OH-ries

For-ever young

Three generations

Two naughty lists

(photo courtesy of red.neckchic)

And a snow-clad lady at W&T's!

MERRY CHRISTMAS Y'ALL FROM THE NORTH (TEXAS) POLE!!!

O'er the fields we go, junkin' all the way!

On the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me

eleven ladies blogging

This past year the Cat Man and I were blessed by getting to meet face-to-face some of the most Fab U Lous women out there in blogland. If you're like me...you wonder if someone will meet your expectations. I picture each of you in my mind's eye and try to imagine the sound of your voice, your mannerisms, the sound of your laugh. (Please don't think I'm some kind of a scurvy lurker...'cause I'm truly not. I'm just a little bit throwed off in my way of thinking...but totally harmless!)

2010 was a banner year for me. The opportunity to meet not one or two, but eleven of y'all was beyond anything I could have ever dreamed. (The actual count was higher, but this song only goes to twelve days. Besides...whacha gonna do...sic the blog dogs on me?)

When Jodie sashayed into my tent at Zapp last spring it was like being reunited with another daughter that I didn't remember birthing. She's the Tabasco in my taco...she spices up my life like no other.

Just when I thought my day was complete and couldn't get any better, I see the most beautiful face peeking around the corner of my tent. People...I couldn't speak...all I could do was stand there crying. Laura is everything and everyone I want to be when I grow up. There just aren't words to describe her and what her friendship means to me. 'Course that could be 'cause she possesses every word in Roget's.

This past summer an opportunity presented itself by none other than my darling Jodie to meet this gal...my sister by another mister! Oh mylanta...when I saw her looking over the balcony at me...again a big ol' cryfest! Pam isn't Southern or Texan, but that's just geography. From the top of her head to the tips of her feet, this woman can "fixinta" with the best of us! Heck...she's even learning to talk with a drawl! Either she's gonna have to move to Texas or I'm gonna have to head to Ohio...and learn to eat stuffing! The best part of doing the shows at Zapp are the people who come to shop from all around the world. It provides me the chance to meet folks I would never get to otherwise...like this beautiful lady. I think we can all agree...I think Rebecca is the real deal. I'd probably embarrass her (and all these fine ladies for that matter) if I were to put into words what I feel about her. She is a true lady and angelic (no matter what you say R.E.!).

Again (yippee!) another opportunity presented itself this past fall with an e-mail from the cute chick on the right. I had met Lisa in the summer when Cat Daddy and I crashed the Paper Cowgirl Retreat. I was instantly in love with her, so-o-o when she contacted me and said she'd be traveling through Athens...I jumped at the chance to see her again. The fact that she threw in the big bonus of getting to meet Dawn had nothing to do with it. (Yeah right...and I got some property in the swamps I'd like to sell ya!) I would have crawled over glass for the chance to meet up with these two for lunch and a laugh.

Now how on earth did that stinkin' face get in there? I told y'all...I love my baby girl!

SQUIRREL ALERT!

(I stole, I mean borrowed these photos from all over the place and as soon as I remember where...I'll return 'em! I promise y'all!)

The spring show provided a bumper crop of people I was dying to meet including Gale. She and I may be miles apart...but I feel such a connection to her.

(For my girl to hate to have a photo taken...she sure gets around doesn't she?)

If you knew Susie like I know Susie...oh, oh, oh what a girl! She makes me double over with laughter and feel the need to make a Walmart run for Depends. Outrageous, outspoken and out of this world!

I didn't get to visit with Beth and Karla very much while they were at the show, but I felt so at ease with the two of them...that probably was a good thing. I would have ended up telling them all my secrets plus I got a really good hunch these two are some mischief-makers deluxe. These four (of course...there's my Crazy Cajun again) are the most talented ladies. The Fantastic Four...that's them!

Jill and Beth are just what you picture when you see their photos. Yes...they are that darn cute...and yes...just that adorable. The fall show yielded some major talent walking the fields and these two were leading the parade.

(Well, obviously a lot of these photos are Rob-Uh-Lyn's...hence the duct tape! That's one way to mark your territory!)

God blessed me this past year with the perfect timing to meet all these wonderful ladies (and a few more I couldn't find photos of, but I'm still looking Tamarah). Remember me saying that I always wonder if what I have pictured in my mind will be the reality...well...they are! The memory of meeting each and every one of them will keep me warm this winter.

My Christmas prayer this year is that in 2011, He allows me the privilege to meet more of y'all and make my little world even bigger!

Tending to business

Nine reindeer name games

Eight ways to Sunday

Seven secret Santas

This chick a-crafting

These mem-OH-ries

For-ever young

Three generations

Two naughty lists

And a snow-clad lady at W&T's

(I sure wish I had thought to chronicle everyone I met in 2009...stupid, stupid, stupid!)

Knocking The Stuffing Outta Dressing

First let me say thank you for the prayers for my sweet Grayzilla. She's at home resting with her mama and daddy. She woke up once to tell the Amazon thank you for being such a good mommy and taking such good care of her. She is such a remarkable little girl! Can you tell I adore her?

Now...where was I? Oh yeah!

On the tenth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me

tending to business

There are certain things I expect to be on the dinner table Christmas Eve. For some the star may be the ham or turkey...for me it's the dressing. There are also certain things if it's your turn to cook that I don't want jacked with and that would be the dressing. Don't go all fancy/schmancy on me and start adding things. I don't want oysters, no parsley-sage-rosemary-and-thyme folderol (although I'll get back to sage in just a sec), or anything exotic. The only punching up good dressing needs is giblet gravy and then only a splash...if it's good dressing. I don't know about the rest of the country, but where I come from it's cornbread dressing. Stuffing is the verb for the activity that comes when it's ready to eat....i.e.: "I'm stuffing it in as fast as I can so's I can go get seconds afore it's all gone!". I don't hold with stuffing the South Pole end of a bird with my hands...'course it does make a pretty picture...nor does the idea of eating out of the S.P. end hold any sway over me either, but to each their own. Live and let live I always say, BUT if you ever got a taste of my dressing...I bet a dollar to a donut, I could turn you into a cornbread convert in a New York minute!

I don't talk about my cooking skills very often 'cause frankly I don't have any, but there are four...no wait...make that five things my family asks for. One is whipped potatoes (psst...think Pet milk); two, banana split cake (not the kind with a graham cracker crust); three, deviled eggs (first thing we learn to make down here at the Texas Pole); four, Texas chocolate sheet cake ( legendary and required learning for every Texas girl) and five...my dressing. These are the things I'm asked to bring every time there is a big family gathering and I happily oblige...proud that they even ask.

I've told the girls I'd be happy to share my secret ingredients, but so far....no takers. I'll tell y'all though 'cause I know you're so good at keeping secrets.

All good little Southern girls know the main ingredient is good cornbread, but that's not what makes the difference. What makes all the difference (in my sage opinion) is excellent sage. Never...ever...never be chinchy on the sage, either in price or in the amount you use. Most recipes will call for a tablespoon or two and to that I say hogwash! Might as well go ahead and stuff it in the S.P end 'cause I ain't gonna eat it. People...I want mine green there's so much sage and from the looks of the empty pan after a meal...the family agrees! No boiled eggs...no celery...just plenty of onion, black pepper and sage! Notice I didn't say salt? There's a reason for that too.

I never add salt. Because we always have a ham, I use good, canned chicken stock diluted with water plus a little secret BAM. Depending on the amount of water added, I throw 2-3 Wyler's chicken bouillon cubes into the boiling broth. Somehow, someway this adds just the right amount of saltiness to the dressing and kicks the chicken-y taste up front where it ought to be. Mix it all up and man alive...the smell from the kitchen is heaven on earth.

I know the great debate of dressing vs. stuffing will continue as long as there are kitchens and aprons, but from where I'll be sitting come this Friday evening long about 5PM...there just ain't no contest....

Dressing wins with a one, two punch!

Just so all you stuffing lovers out there don't stop liking me...here's a little dressing you will love me for!

(Photo courtesy of FotoFabulous. Can you believe that name...perfect! I'm telling y'all...I can't make this stuff up!)

Nine reindeer name games

Eight ways to Sunday

Seven secret Santas

This chick a-crafting

These mem-OH-ries

For-ever young

Three generations

Two naughty lists

And a snow-clad lady at W&T's

Grace Note

Graycie is having her tonsils out this morning. Please say a prayer for her...she's a little scared and nervous.So is her Nana.

Thank you.

UPDATE: Graycie's surgery went well. She's now at home sleeping. From all my family...thank you for your prayers.

Boy Howdy...Is My Nose Red!

On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me

nine reindeer name games

It may just be my imagination, but it seems the line between babies' names and that of our pets is blurring. With traditional names like Matthew, Jack, Sandra, and Elizabeth being replaced with Spike, Scout, Daisy, and Coco...it's gotta be tough on the dogs. How do they know when to speak or fetch? Although...this might be a side benefit I wasn't aware of!

I've often thought you could tell the personality of the parents by the names they select for their babies. You just know if a Texas mother names her baby girl Buffy, she herself was a former cheerleader and she plans on raising a future Dallas Cowboys' cheerleader or a boy Jock, the future starting quarterback for UT! If folks are looking for names that will stand out from the crowd and give their kids a leg-up, why not take a page outta ol' Santy Claus's book. Now those are some names a kid could grow into!

Just for fun...let's make a naughty and nice list...whaddaya say?

1. Dasher...this kid will definitely be a running back or working as the head ice cream maker at the Blue Bell factory.
2. Dancer...Radio City Music Hall Rockette for sure or winner of the 2026 Dancing With The Stars prized mirror ball trophy.
3. Prancer...Broadway bound or teaching Jazzercise classes down at the local Y.
4. Vixen...she'll be stealing scenes on General Hospital or appearing as Blanche DuBois in Casa Manana's 2030 revival of A Streetcar Named Desire.
5. Comet...an Olympic track star or doing voice-over commercials for achieving cleaner toilets.
6. Cupid...easy...he or she will be writing an advice-to-the-lovelorn column for the NY Times or CEO of Match.com.
7. Donner...this poor kid is on his own...I got nothin' 'cept maybe a member of an Osmond Brothers tribute band!
8. Blitzen...this guy is destined to be the #1 pick in the 2032 NFL draft or a bartender at Pete's Tavern.
9. Last, but certainly not least, Rudolph...doncha know he'll either be a famous haute couture designer or a valet who's main job is to dress a rotund, jolly, old fellow in red velvet and fur.

(Psst...in case you were wondering...Bella wasn't named after a Twilight character. Her name came to me in a dream and in Hebrew it means "Devoted to God". I think we can all agree...she is aptly named.)

Eight ways to Sunday

Seven secret Santas

This chick a-crafting

These mem-OH-ries

For-ever young

Three generations

Two naughty lists

And a snow-clad lady at W&T's

Sweet Smell Of Success

On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me

eight ways to Sunday

This time of year has a strange effect on me. In addition to being extremely buoyant, I'm also extremely pensive. I tend to get just a tiny bit melancholy looking back at the year that is coming to an end. I start wondering if I spent it wisely or did I fritter it away.

We all set goals on New Year's eve. I try not to make them unattainable like losing a 100 pounds or something equally foolish, but there is always one or two that I set the bar high on to try and stretch myself.

Did I finish my book or even get a short story completed? No.

Did I double my followers on my blog? No.

Did I attain some level of success?

Let me think about that last one just for a moment.

~I couldn't wait for success, so I went ahead without it.~Jonathan Winters

First I guess I would need to define what I consider success to be. Is it being the Queen Bee in the world of antiques? Is it being the number one blog or at least being in the top 100? Is it writing the Great American Novel and being #1 on the NY Times Bestsellers List? Would I be willing to do anything to achieve this status?

Looking at these questions and knowing my priorities...my answer would be no. I'm not willing to sacrifice myself, my family or my life to achieve these type of goals. The type of success I hope to attain...when it comes...will be by just being me and following the path God has laid out for me.

~Don't confuse fame with success. Madonna is one, Helen Keller is the other.~Erma Bombeck

I know there is a handful of y'all out there who already think I'm the Cat's pajamas and for that success, I'm thankful. There's a couple of little girls who happen to think I'm the craziest g'mother ever and for that success, I'm truly thankful. There are 395 of y'all who drop in every now and then and for that success, I'm thankful. There's a certain lady who can out-write, out-think, and out-class me who thinks I stand a chance of becoming a somebody and for that success, I'm very thankful.

Perhaps success is much like these photos seen in reverse. It comes in bits and pieces until the final picture reveals what truly is important.

~Success is not so much what we have as it is what we are~Anonymous I may have found my answer while watching a bio on Barry Manilow. With all his many awards, gold and platinum albums, and sold-out concerts, he said the true measure of whether he had succeeded lay not in his bank account, but rather in whether he had made people feel any emotion through his music.

Using his formula...the answer is up to y'all. Whether it's sadness, joy, disgust, anger...if you left here feeling something, anything...I am a success....and for that...I'm humbly thankful.

~Don't fly so high you end up landing in bird poop.~Helen L. Callahan

(Thanks Mother...I repeat that to myself every day!) Seven secret Santas

This chick a-crafting

These mem-OH-ries

For-ever young

Three generations

Two naughty lists

And a snow-clad lady at W&T's!

The Unmagnificent Seven

On the seventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me

seven secret Santas

There is a list of gifts that I keep close to my heart. If my true love ever decided to give me one of these, he knows he best keep that red sleigh moving on down the road 'cause the honeymoon is over!

It's a short list, but just to be on the safe side, I've taken the liberty of sewing copies to the inside of his underwear. He is getting old and forgetful ya know and one little slip up and it's curtains I tell ya!

1. Bathroom scales tops the list....need I say more? Yeah nothing says lovin' like "Girl, I think you've put on a few."! Nothing says buh-bye as well either! Throw in a stationary bike and a gym membership...and I think I'll sit on him to see if he can guess my weight!
2. Hickory Farms gift set...Oh mylanta. He just got through telling me what a chubbette I've become, why on green earth would he think some fancy hangdown is better? I don't care if it does come with cheese and crackers! That's what you give your Uncle Wilbur for gosh sakes...not your ever-lovin...at least not if you want any future ever-lovin'!
3. A jelly making kit...for real? The last time I tried to make jam, it never jelled, but after a year it had a kick to rival the best Mogan David's! Besides...I prefer gifts that don't require hot wax...or work!
4. A hot wax hair removal kit...see disclaimer above! If men don't have to remove unsightly hair...why do we? Oh that's right...we prefer two eyebrows. I'll say this once and only once...the only time I want hot wax in my presence is when I'm in the throes of creating...not in the throes of pain!
5. Ginsu knife set....really? Think about it big boy...now you're arming me. Besides I've heard it's bad luck to give knives as a gift...something about it severing a relationship. Hmmm...whatcha trying to tell me here?
6. Absolutely no underwear that plays Jingle Bells! Sorry fellow, but not just no, but heck no! Nope, zilch, nada, no way-no how...don't even go there 'cause it ain't gonna happen...not even for five minutes! Besides...we both know those aren't really for me. You might as well write on the gift tag "To Cat Daddy, From Cat Daddy"...oh and be sure to get them in your size! You know how much you hate chafing!
7. Finally...no clothing from the clearance rack, size 8 or smaller. I'm sure you think you're saying you still see me as I was when we first married (or so you say), but we both know all it says is you've shopped at one to many flea markets and think everything should be a steal. Guess what...it ain't! So my darling Texan Picker...unless you want to be picking your teeth up off the floor...don't suggest I at least try them on first...'cause them's fighting words and I got a hot, freshly waxed Ginsu and I know how to use it!

SQUIRREL ALERT!!!

Here's a few answers to some of y'alls questions.

General Waverly was the old gentleman who owned the lodge in White Christmas.

Liz of Liz/Fran fame made the Fab U Lous tree, not me. Love to take credit...but y'all know better!

The wonderful box was a gift from one of my dearest friends, Carolyn Westbrook. She knows how much I love that particular type of folk art and I treasure it.

This chick a-crafting

These mem-OH-ries

Forever young

Three generations

Two naughty lists

And a snow clad lady at W&T's!

Party Hats and Jingle Bells

On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me

this chick a-crafting

Today I'm joining in the birthday celebration of Rebecca of A RE-Purposed Life. She's throwing herself a big ol' party and since my middle name is "Party"...you know I gotta be there for the fun and the cake. Have I told y'all I love birthday cake? Yeah...so much so I'll go buy one when it isn't even a b-day...just 'cause I can! The girl at the bakery and I are on a first name basis...I call her Honey and she writes my name on top without asking...but I digress!

R.E. has put together this great party with only a couple of rules like showing something we've made as a gift. Um...O--K...let me think! Christmas is a time for miracles...so-o-o...maybe I can make something. I do believe...I do believe...I do believe!

Is it just me or is there something about Christmas time that makes all women just a little nuts...starting just around Thanksgiving and ending December 24? Suddenly for about a month, we all have this overpowering urge to create...even those of us who are scissored challenged!

Now I'm not talking about those of y'all who actually do this all year long. Oh no...I take my hat off to y'all. That's art and y'all are well prepared. No, I'm talking about the crazy ladies like me who suddenly think they can take an empty toilet paper cone and crepe paper and create a masterpiece.

I compare it to the same feeling we get when we decide to have a baby. Nothing or no one better get in our way...there are primal urges at work here and I pity the fool that tries to stop us.

In a flurry of excitement, we go digging in boxes looking for things to put together that will thrill the beholder. Not content to go to the store and buy something...after all that defeats the whole purpose of "home made"...we scrounge up coffee cans, tissue paper, broken jewelry, and bits and baubles to satisfy this longing that just won't go away.

Our families try to dissuade us, having seen some of our works of art in years past, but to no avail....our mantra being "Give me back my glue gun or I'm gonna hurt you"!

We scour magazines and surf the web like the Big Kahuna, seeking inspiration, (Ok,I'll be honest. I'm looking for ideas to steal...I mean borrow. Don't hate me...it's not my fault...blame my hormones!) until we find the one we think we can master. AH-H-H...then the fun really begins.

Hunched over a card table, (that has one leg shorter than the other, resulting in a wobble-while-we-work effect) glass of wine (more like a bottle) close at hand, we toil harder than any of the elves at the North Pole. Snow and glitter flying, we feverishly glue, paint, tear, snip and cuss (more than just a little), all the while praying it will hold together!

No room in the house is safe. We've scattered crafting crap from the living room to the kitchen. Forget home cooked meals...the stove is buried in melting wax...the table by a sewing machine (that had to be dusted before being used) and scraps of burlap. We are on a mission and buddy boy...you are on your own!

'Cause don't forget that in the middle of all this chaos we also must decorate the house for Christmas, make cookies, buy and wrap presents, prepare for Christmas dinner, make countless runs to Hobby Lobby for supplies, and still find time to brush our hair...maybe! Let's also not forget the round of parties, Christmas plays, and open houses we must attend as well.

Now you tell me...this has got to be a hormonal thing 'cause who in their right mind does all this and why is it only at Christmas time?

But do it we must. So armed with our baby food jars, mica flakes, and old greeting cards, we continue relentlessly on our quest to make. A quest that is as old as paper and countless women before us have quested.

If we don't get distracted and if we only take on one project, we will reach the top of the mountain. Sadly...so sadly...one idea, like Lay's potato chips, is never enough. Oh no...those darn ol' hormones push us to have six going at the same time 'cause nothing says love like home made...right?

Finally, after much blood, sweat and tears and band aids, we reach the end of our journey. Our entirely, hand-made Nativity scene is complete and it only took 24 days and $275 to make.

Fighting the urge to strap it on the hood of the car and drive around the neighborhood for all to see, we carefully place it under the tree and run to get a camera to capture the moment...turning only to see the cat proceed to sit on the Three Wise Men!

So Rebecca, I had planned on showing you a lovely hand-made gift...but the dog ate my home-made work!

Instead, I'm making fun of myself, making a little merry merry, and making the best of the time left until Christmas Day.

I'm wishing you the happiest of birthdays and hoping I also made you smile...out loud!

These mem-OH-ries

For-ever young

Three generations

Two naughty lists

AND A HAPPY BIRTHDAY R.E.!