Baby it's cold outside . . .

It's cold here in the south . . . well, by southern standards. 44 right now, feeling like 39. I think I'll stay under the covers, surrounded by beasties, for just a bit longer before I venture out for my weekly jaunt to the grocery store. I'm telling you right now, the Miata will have it's top on and the heater blasting!!!

I'm one of those scattered brained people who need lists to keep them on the straight and narrow, so while making out my shopping list for the week, thoughts of steaming bowls of white bean and ham soup popped in my brain and refused to leave. I started googling.

There are one heck of a lot of recipes out there for my leftover Honey Baked ham and some great northern beans. I stole a little from this, a little from that, added a lot more garlic and a splash of hot sauce and I can't wait to see how it all turns out. Stay tuned . . .

In the meantime, I am debating the merits of wearing my Uggs and dressing like Heidi for my foray down the aisles of Publix. Think anyone will notice?

SOUP UPDATE:

The goodies went from this:



to this:



and the result was not wonderful. Something's rotten in the state of Denmark. Anyone have a GOOD recipe for white bean soup?????

p.s. note to self: Self, do not let the 9TS persuade you to add tomatoes.

a lovely bunch of coconuts . . .

Being a woman of an, ummm, certain age, I have dry skin. Not the nasty pork rind type, just the annoying itchy, ack I should go swimming in baby oil type skin. I tried that by the way, and baby oil and clean clothes, or any clothes for that matter, do not mix, unless of course you like grease stains . . .

I have slathered on everything . . . prescriptions, ancient tribal remedies, grannies homemade balm, soothsayer salve. Nothing works. *Scratch, scratch, scratch*

Then someone recommended coconut oil . . . pure unadulterated coconut oil. Sensory hallucinations of Tahitian cocktails flashed through my brain . . . . vats of Hawaiian Tropic . . . tubs of tropical topicals. It took me a couple of days to get up the courage to venture into the health food store. The 9TS and I wandered the aisles, our jaws falling to the floor at the array of nature's bounty. No coconut oil among the caster oil, Bert's Bees or peppermint extracts.

We enlisted the aid of a store clerk who led us to the cooking oil section, and yes my head did a 360 at that one. And when she mentioned the benefits of a spoonful a day, my eyeballs started to roll. "I thought coconut oil wasn't good for you in cooking.", I stammered. "Organic expeller pressed coconut oil, has no transfats and is excellent for your thyroid. It is also the original massage oil." I stood corrected and grabbed a jar of this multipurpose elixir.

Back home, I inspected the surprisingly non-aromatic coagulated contents of the jar and remembered the woman had told me it would liquefy in warm water . . . and it did. Tentatively, I dipped my finger in the goo and tried it on the back of my hand. Soothing. After my shower I applied it to my arms and legs. This stuff is great. Absorbs immediately. Non-greasy.

Ten days later and I am a happy, itch-less camper with soft skin and new resolve to haunt the health food store a little more often. I still however, am not cooking with this stuff no matter how much it is touted. I cannot baste my body and my breakfast eggs with the same product. Nope, not going to happen.

brought to you by the letter 'n' . . .

the 'n' has been sticking on my laptop for quite a while. Last night it was finally annoying enough for me to do something about it.

As we all know, I am allergic to cleaning but this . . . this was amazing. There I was with a long, thin stencil stylus running it along the keyboard pulling out . . . . what? Cat fur of course, pounds of it . . . a whole new cat. Then a whisker. One very long solid black whisker. No doubt who that belongs to . . . eyeballing Ninja! And dust balls. Tons of tiny dust balls hiding underground. There was an office party going on under the space bar . . .

Half an hour later and the 'n' was once again in good working order having coughed up three rather large nasty hairballs and one paper punch hole.

Life goes on . . .

Katie is home . . .

all is right with the world.

Not that I want to cage my little free bird but something is totally whole and warm when she is in the house. So nice.

I'm just saying . . .

it's beginning to look . . .

a lot like Christmas, everywhere you go . . . la la la.

Our Reindeeraff is back in residence:



The tree is up:



Speaking of trees, I am a non-theme tree dresser. No solid gold trees, no floral masterpieces, no flocked feathers. Almost every ornament has a story. An engraved rocking horse for Katie's second Christmas from Nanny:



the pewter dangles from Mary in Nova Scotia, the karate Santa that struck the 9TS's fancy, the reindeer Katie made in first grade. Some are simply those overpriced nuggets sold at middle school fund raisers:



But even they bring back a flood of memories of mathematically challenged moms recalculating order blanks, trying to match funds to orders, muttering about checks without phone numbers.

and other miscellaneous trinkets:



and goodies all have meaning.



Tucked away and not used because of four rather rambunctious beasties are two gold and silver glass Christmas balls from the Montclair city tree that my mother had heisted as a child. Also the tree topper from when I was a tiny. But we don't use that topper, pretty and sentimental as it is.

We use this one:



Made from coffee filters and tin foil when Katie was little and money was tight. Long before the other arrived lovingly wrapped in tissue when my father divested himself of the house on the lake and its memories.

Yup, it's beginning to look like Christmas and unlike last year, the spirit is welcome and warm.

Disclaimer: Yes, Virginia, that is a fake tree. Makes me sad not to smell that wonderful pine aroma but they just don't last long in the heat. The poor things start shedding the second they're brought in the door. And then there was the year Snoopy fussed and fussed in the tree like a possessed demon kitty. When we dragged it back outside I finally saw the three inch flat beetle that had been driving him to distraction. Sigh.

challenge time again at JS . . .

Credits: Paper: KimHill, Stitches: Anna Aspnes, Fonts: LB_Typewriter, Rage Italica

We had to use four photos . . . oops . . . that tell a story, striped paper and a typewriter font. It would help if I read the directions carefully. It would help if I read directions EVER. Directions? What directions? Sigh.

aarrrghhhhh . . . .

"Hello!

Due to unforeseen technical difficulties, the launch of the new BasicGrey Web site has been delayed. We’re sorry to disappoint, but know the technical issues will be resolved soon for a smooth and successful launch. We truly appreciate your patience.

Stay tuned. "All good things come to those who wait!"

Happy Scrappin’,

BasicGrey"

I am being patient. I am being patient. I am being patient. I am being patient. I am being patient.