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I'm not a Southern Beauty,
I'm not an Eastern rose;
I'm just a lil' Western Gal
With freckles on her nose.

Friday, September 10

A Good-Bye, 9-11 and Never Forget

September 11, 2001

Tomorrow is a sad day to remember, and today is a somewhat sad day for me -- at long last, after many years, many blogs, and many monikers, I am closing down my daily blogging effort.

Sometimes something that has been right changes into something that is no longer optimal.

My motto: Always do your best to move towards health -- mental, physical, spiritual. 

A move away from the blog world, away from the Internet, and towards a closer communion with the natural world is the message and vibe I have received. The virtual world is many things to many people, but for me, it began to cast a shadow on my heart and I have to turn away from it now. 

But of course I will still be dropping by and visiting and watching others slave over their bloggies.

Something that just hurt my heart with the blog world was to have no way to reach someone except through their blog -- to feel a kinship with them, or concern for them -- and then some crazy technical problem would occur and comments would get lost or be unable to be posted -- it upsets my equilibrium and puts a wobble in the karmic whole -- it seems too shallow a way to communicate, for me --  just not good for my lil' heart; this lil' donkey has trod too rough a path and can't take too many more bumps.

Kindly look for free animations on my snowiecat Photobucket accounts  -- Faith had a great idea about making a hurricane lamp animation -- and rescued vintage graphics and original creations as well.

I go down my path, and my wish for you is strength for your path. Wishes for happiness and a merry heart, or strength if your path is full of pitfalls, go with you! As a favorite author, Brenda Ueland, said, "Strength to your sword arm!"

Thursday, September 9

Acorn Smith

My mother and father grew up in the Great Depression. They were seven years old when the bottom fell out. My mother -- whose family was pretty much unaffected by the Depression --  used to tell of a boy in her hometown who was nicknamed "Acorn." She told it as a funny story, but it always made me so very sad. Most things my mother found funny, I found sad or distressing. 

Acorn Smith had gotten his nickname because as the eldest son, he would collect acorns for his mother and younger siblings to eat. Oak tree acorns; very bitter. His mother, a widow, would evidently soak them in lye and change the water again and again -- much as cassava or manioc is prepared in South America. The lye bath leaches most of the bitter tannins out of the acorn meat, which can then be ground into meal and eaten like any nut flour. A mother would have be quite resourceful and equally desperate to use acorn flour to feed her children.

My mother had her own demons, and I think they made her rather mean-spirited. She would tell with delight about her brother shooting Acorn with his BB gun as he would stoop to gather the acorns, and poor Acorn crying "like a baby" and yelping but having to stay and pick enough for their needs.

This graphic is in honor of Acorn Smith and his mother, who quietly went about their way, gleaning what they could from Nature and gratefully eating their daily bread. I don't know what happened to them; I hope better days came and that Acorn made it through WWII and went on to have a bit more of life's bounty than bitter bread and the derision of unfeeling peers. God Bless you, Acorn.

Wednesday, September 8

Bragging, and Mallowcremes

Oh, it's been a long time since I was in a country-fried graphics mood.

Here's the noble mallowcreme, starring in its very own 2010 image.

Right-click to save.

Wanted to mention that my earlier prediction as mentioned in a previous post of a HUGE QUAKE WHERE THERE WAS NO KNOWN FAULT LINE did come true -- the 7.2 in New Zealand, and the creation/discovery of a new fault line. AND my prediction of many quakes in the heartland of the USA and other non-traditional spots -- the Oklahoma quakes. And the Indonesian volcano, though there are worse to come soon, too. Ta-da. Don't fergit my blizzard warning...just received a vibe about a giant WHIRLPOOL in the sea, too...predicted to my family that it will be discovered our planet and solar system "rotates into" both "germs" and WEATHER...then seemingly got the first part of that prediction validated about some sort of space-born lifeforms raining down onto the planet? More to come, if received...

Tuesday, September 7

Cruel Rant and For Autumn Birthdays, A Vintage Postcard

Here is the original and a hue-altered version of a pretty vintage copyright-free postcard design.

Click it to get it to load up a larger version.

I love the unusual colors of autumn mums -- I go for the really weird colors, the russets and such -- well, I "go for them" mentally, it's been years since I could indulge in actually getting a pot of mums, even at Walmart prices. 

Oh my dears, the money that once ran though my hands...*sigh* -- well actually ,that ran through various menfolks's hands as I watched admiringly, never clever enough to get any for my dear and most precious

Which brings me to a rant -- calling myself Precious a la Gollum in the Lord of the Rings series of books brought it to mind -- *gag*

It's the habit of some bloggers -- even some of my dear bloggie FRENS -- to call themselves or their loved ones by idiotic and frankly stomach-churning names...

For example, they might refer to their sons and grandsons as "Superboy" and "Soccergenius," or "Grander #1" or "Grander #5" or "Bestest Grandboy" or other repulsively indulgent terms...

They hit their stride with their daughters and granddaughters -- witness monikers along the lines of "Prettykins" and "Dear Dolly Dumplin' Daughter" and "Giggle Girl" and "Sweetsieroo" -- 

But where they become truly nauseating -- making me get out my Sig Sauer and look at it longingly -- is when they discuss their husbands -- you know my temper about husbands --

This is the sort of thing that makes a woman put on a bandolier and run amok, virtually, anyway -- these sorts of flattering nicknames for what is, after all, little better than a danged ol' skunk -- A HUSBAND --

Manly Man
Sir Abs-A-Lot
Mister Muscles
Mister Nibbles
Mister "What Have You, As Long As It Is Dreadfully Twee"
The Man
The Boy-Man
The Herminator
The Himinator
Love Bucket

etc etc etc

Excuse me now, I have to go see what Mr. Skunky-Wunky and The Nifty Nerd want for breakfast...

Monday, September 6

Before and After, and Welcome Sign

I hope bloggie fren Amrita does not mind my featuring an old snapshot (remember that term?) of her family as shown on her blog, Yesu Garden. You really ought to go visit there, she's very entertaining! Even when crabby, she's very droll. Not that she's ever really crabby!

I'm just showing that sometimes a cherished old photo can be enhanced digitally. I like the old look of vintage things, but sometimes a person wants their family photos to be a bit clearer or less faded. I have "corrected" hundreds of photos for folks on the side, always free of course. There are also those who do this professionally and who likely use their Photoshop program to do so -- at $1400 for the program, I can see why they would charge.

This little sign can be saved by right-clicking. It is a "transparent image," meaning it should appear to "float" on the page.

Sunday, September 5

Every Leaf A Flower

Someone said that. It isn't original with me. Something about autumn being a second spring, with every leaf a flower.


Saturday, September 4

On the Very Edge of Autumn

This young witch looks like she is ready to take off and fly like an autumn leaf on the wind.

Altered from a lovely vintage painting that bore the title, "The Witch." The style should be familiar to me, but I don't know who painted it.

Friday, September 3

Autumn Poem by George Cooper

I really like many of the old-fashioned poems. Just pretty or lighthearted poems.

This one is called "October's Party," and it is very gladsome. I like the capitalization of the tree names. 

But let us not delve into why I am putting up an October poem in September. Let me just say that it is a personal triumph to be able to post anything, and that also my brains are addled by placing thousands of Hallowe'en cards up in stores.

Thursday, September 2

Book Harvest

I like the Laura Ingalls Wilder books -- the Little House series. I know, many places have them banned. So absurd! But I was delighted to find that for all these years, I had missed reading one of them, and now I have it in my hot lil' hooves. How delightful to sit in a pool of lamplight and cozily read something absorbing!

This harvest picture also struck me as very cozy. It is altered from the original vintage, copyright-free painting. Right-click to save. It gets bigger when regular-clicked, too.

Wednesday, September 1

Pumpkinless Pie and Persimmon Rose Calling Card

September, dearies. This is just a vintage calling card that has been altered to have an autumn hue. Click it to enlarge.

I was itching to go off on a rant about Blog Etiquette According to One Who Knows, but can't get myself ireful enough to tackle it today. Something set me off but unfortunately the hysteria wore off before I could post.

In the meantime, here is that yam pie of which I tweeted. I put this up last year or year before, during the Great Pumpkinless Season, which has morphed into No Pumpkins, The Sequel.

Pumpkinless Pumpkin Pie

Two large or 4 small yams or sweet potatoes. Don't peel them yet.

Cook them in boiling salted water until tender -- for example, when you can stick 'em with a fork. Note: It is normal for them to smell like cat breath/gasoline when boiling. Do not let it alarm you.

If you don't have enough time to cook them all the way, take them out and zap them some.

Peel them and put in big bowl.

Add in one can sweetened condensed milk and an egg.

Beat on it all. Smack it with a potato masher, that's what I do. Whip it A BIT if you have an electric mixer. Pull out any strings of potato because picky people are scared of them.

Add in some spices. I added in pumpkin pie spice and threw in extra cinnamon and ginger, but better TOO BLAND than TOO SPICED because you can always dust it with more cinnamon when done if needed.

Now put it in a pie crust. Put in a 400 oven for 10 minutes and lower the heat to 325 for about 40 more or until done. You can tell it's done when you give the piepan a shake and it doesn't. Put a piece of tinfoil on it if it's getting too brown. Cook it up high in the oven, not on a lower rack.

It will flatten down nicely when cooled. This is a pioneer-style pie.