Visit from Miss C...

Busy day yesterday.... our little friend C drove up to spend the day with us. I guess it may be time to stop calling C our 'little friend.'  She's no longer a child... very much an adult with a good job, her own apartment, and she's approaching her mid-20s now. However... in our eyes, she's still my favorite little reading student we've always loved, and I don't think she minds that I call her my 'special little friend.'

C started out from Galveston early, so she was here for breakfast. We opened Christmas gifts, which was a lot of fun... thoughtful gifts from C, some of which surprised us because she remembered things my husband really wanted to try.  C gave me a miniature bookshelf with book-shaped spice jars.... very antique-y looking, and so pretty that I'm not going to fill them up with spices at all. The little shelf is sitting on a side table in the breakfast room and looking quite pretty and unique. I may even bring them up to the library and display the little book-jars near my tea books.

We drove into town, C and I... with C driving, which always makes me smile because I think of all the times I drove her around Clear Lake in our travels to little shops, the library, bookstores. And now she's driving and I'm in the passenger seat.  We stopped at the thrift stores, and the bookshop, and went to the antique store where I have my booth... we checked on my sales there, and also looked around at the other dealers' items.

The best time was at the bookstore in town... they had a new display of books with a twist on choosing a book to purchase. Such fun...we were in front of that shelf for half an hour... but I don't want to describe it yet because I'm going to adapt that idea for the Waldorf Wednesday tea parties... and I'll write about it after this coming Wednesday.

As always, when C is here, the house is filled to over-flowing with her ooohs and aaahs with the cats, her discovery of new things or re-arrangements of old things around the house.... she notices everything, remembers everything from years ago, and she just fills up the house with her joyful presence.

My birthday cup runneth over....

Sixty-three.

Six. Three. Sixty. Three. 63.

No matter how you type it, no matter how you say it... it's an odd number. Odd in the sense that today is my 63rd birthday... odder still that I feel the same way today as I did on my 36th birthday. So maybe that's the secret... invert the numbers.

Happy 36th sounds so much nicer and softer (and saner) than Happy 63rd.

But it is what it is.... no sense in denying the calender. But honestly, I can remember when I started my job at the Library... all those years ago, and I was in my late 20s, and most of the women I worked with were in their mid 50s. Mostly all of those co-workers have passed away now.... and here I sit and type, and I think of them all from time to time. Especially the ones I liked the best. Funny thing, that..... out of all the jobs I've ever had, it was my library position that stays with me all the time. I worked there for a much longer time (16 years) than at any of the other jobs I had... and the library was my career, not just a job. From part-time, to full-time, to supervisor... I loved it all, every last bit of it... even on the worst days, it was still where I wanted to be.

But today is today...... I've collected a pension from that library job... and I'm collecting Social Security. How in the world.....?  When someone tells you that time flies, believe them.  I look in the mirror and I still see me... I don't see a 63-yr-old woman.  I just see me. I'm hoping that all of the good genes from my aunts (my dad's sisters) have filtered into me... they were all very pretty women, well into their older ages. My Aunt Dolly will be 102 this year, and only since her 100th birthday has she really looked old. And only since turning 100 has she even felt old.

My husband and I celebrated my birthday the other day because he has to work today. I'll be celebrating this day with friends at lunch-time.  And tomorrow, we will celebrate my birthday again because Miss C will be driving up here for the day.  So for my 63rd, I'll be having three birthday-days in a row. Which doesn't sound bad at all.

Except for that number. 63. Ouch. I'd rather have the number 36. Can that be arranged?

Ladybugs in January...

We're having a warm and sunny week... and the ladybugs have come out to play. I have no idea where they hide during the wet and cold weather, but as soon as we have our normal 'winter' temperatures, there seems to be ladybugs everywhere you look.

"Ladybug, ladybug, fly away home... your house is burning and you must save your children..."  I have no idea where that little song came from originally, but I do remember that we all sang it when we were kids. If a ladybug landed on us, we would get the ladybug on the tip of our finger and then sing those words and blow the ladybug away as if we were blowing out birthday candles. Silly little song it was, with such a horrible thought....

As we're enjoying such beautiful weather here, my cousins on Long Island are bracing for the worst snowstorm to hit the northeast in many years. Depending on the location, NY can expect anywhere from 24 to 40 inches of snow.... and my cousins in Suffolk County have already been told to prepare for nearly 40" of white stuff. Plus ice, and very high winds... the works. Living in Texas for over twenty years now, it's easy to forget just how ridiculous the weather up north can be during the months of November, December, January, and February. One of my cousins has been eMailing me with the weather updates for Long Island. I keep resisting the urge to suggest that she's living in the wrong zip code. (Been there, said that.)

Our little friend Miss C will be here at the end of the week....... it will be so nice to have her here. We didn't see her for our Halloween and Christmas parties... she's been busy with her 'big girl job' since graduating from college... plus her horse Tallahatchie takes up a lot of her time. She's been training him with a saddle these days... putting a blanket and saddle on his back for a little bit every day so he can get used to both items. She eventually plans to ride him, and has enrolled both the horse and herself in training classes.... C is determined to have a well-trained horse that she can depend on, and I have no doubt that she will accomplish just that. Owning a horse is certainly a bigger job than having a dog or a cat... and C knew that when she bought Tallahatchie, so there are no regrets. I'm sure that Tallahatchie is a much-loved and much-respected horse.... I would expect no less than that from Miss C.

Well, there are no horses here... just one inside cat, two outside cats, and that one ill-tempered orange stray cat who still refuses to go elsewhere. And... we have ladybugs. And should I count the dozens of turtles that are out in our pond? They've been sunning themselves on the rocks at the edge of the pond... heaven knows where they were hiding when it was so cold last week, but just like the ladybugs, the turtles have come out to play in this beautiful weather.

Be kind. Be kind.

We're having another cold snap... and when we get through this one, it will be sunny and in the high 60s again. I am counting the minutes till that happens. But today... today was cold. Stupid cold, stupid rain, stupid weather.

Our regular mailman is out sick this week, and the substitute mail-girl has been delivering the mail. She was delivering around Christmas time also, during the cold snaps we were having back then. Each time I saw her, she wasn't wearing a jacket or a coat... just a sweatshirt over a blouse. I didn't say anything to her... I wanted to ask her if she had a heavy coat to wear when the weather turned stupid.

I didn't want to embarrass her... so I just took the mail and smiled and told her to drive safely, and I kept giving her little gifts from the basket I'd filled with Christmas grab-bag presents. Week before last, the mail-girl left a beautiful thank-you card in my mailbox. They were just little gifts... and to read her words, you would think I'd given her everything on her 'wish list.'  As I read the hand-written card from that girl, I sat in my kitchen wishing that I'd asked her if she had a heavy coat.

This morning, I saw the mail car going up the road... I knew it had to be L, because the regular mail guy drives a truck, not a car.  I was determined to run outside and thank her for the card, and luckily, she had a package to deliver that didn't fit into our mailbox, so there she was... pulling into the driveway. Within seconds, I knew just what I had to do.

I went outside to meet L by the porch steps and she gave me the package... today was very cold and windy and rainy... and she was wearing a sweatshirt over a blouse... no jacket, no coat.  I was all bundled up and I was still cold, so I knew she just had to be uncomfortable. I asked her if she had a jacket in the car... she said no, she had been saving up to buy one "but something else always comes up."

That settled it for me... I asked her if she could take a minute away from her deliveries and step into the house, and she said okay.

While she shut off the car engine, I ran to the storage closet for a black leather coat with fur lining... I'd bought it a few years before we left Clear Lake and I haven't worn it since we moved here. I have other coats that I do wear... this girl didn't have a coat. I had that black coat in mind weeks ago, when I was wishing I'd offered it to her at Christmas time.

When I walked back into the kitchen, L was waiting for me out on the porch... I asked her to come inside, and told her that I didn't want to embarrass her, and I didn't mean to be nosy for asking about her lack of a coat..... "I would like to give you this, if you'd like to have it...."

She looked at that black leather coat with such bright eyes... "This is a blessing," she told me. She saw the soft black fur lining and she didn't know what to say.  "Try it on," is what I said... and she did... and she looked beautiful, as if that coat had been made just for her.  The coat has a hood, also lined with the fur, and she put that up and she just beamed, and we stood there in my kitchen and gave one another the biggest hug.  "A blessing, a blessing...." is what she kept telling me.  I told L that the coat looked better on her than it ever did on me, and she smiled.

I watched her walking out to her car in that pretty coat and the day didn't seem so dreary and damp and cold and wet.  Looking at L in her new coat just made the sun come out for a little bit. It was just the right thing to do, and my only regret is that I didn't do this weeks ago.

Be kind. Be kind. Be kind. I can hear my Aunt Dolly saying that over and over when we were all kids... Be kind.  Such an easy thing to do.

Manilow... and Pinterest.

I've noticed that I've been getting some new 'followers' on my Pinterest page, and I was trying to figure out the common interest of those particular pinners. And this morning, I got it... Barry Manilow.  The new followers on my Pinterest page have their own boards featuring Barry.

One thing about Manilow... once you're a fan, you're a fan for life. There's no turning away from Barry and his music. Not if you 'get it,' and all of Barry's fans seem to fit that category. Bottom line... Barry Manilow is a nice guy, plain and simple, a very nice guy. He has been just that from the beginning. He never turned 'Hollywood,' never disrespected his fans, his music, his craft.

When that song "I Am Music" first came out, all of Manilow's fans understood the meaning... he was singing as Music, and not at all saying that he was music and the one and only person out there writing the songs. The critics killed Manilow when that song was released, but the critics didn't 'get it,' and they certainly didn't get what Barry was (and still is) all about.  Manilow seems to disregard the critics, and surely his fans do the same.

So there I was this morning, looking through the Barry Manilow boards of the pinners who have begun to follow my Pinterest page. Lots of photos on-line that I hadn't seen before, so of course I pinned them to my own Manilow board. That board just keeps growing and growing.

I've been to Manilow concerts in New York (at Radio City and at Jones Beach), several concerts in Houston, and we flew to Las Vegas to see Barry (a Christmas gift from my husband). At nearly all of those concerts, we had front row seats. (Fan club members get priority seating for priority prices, but Barry is worth every dollar.) Sitting so close to Barry, it was easy for him to look directly at me, and at a concert in The Woodlands, he shook my hand (but I was too excited to even thank him for all the music over the years).  At the Vegas concert, Barry took my hand and danced a few steps with me... we were separated by a velvet rope that kept the front-row fans from sitting on top of his piano. How tempting that was...

When I'm in my car, Manilow's music is the only thing I listen to... my six favorite CDs are in the player and all I have to do is press a button and Barry is driving with me. And there are days when the drive isn't nearly long enough.

Looking at Barry's photos on Pinterest this morning... some of the pictures were a little heart-breaking. I remember clearly when Barry's hair was turning a very handsome salt-and-pepper shade, and he was looking distinguished and world-wise.  Then all of a sudden, his hair was beginning to look reddish and blondish and spike-y and very un-Manilow-like. And then came the face surgeries... oh Barry... who told you that plastic surgery would be the way to go?

The surgeries took away his Barry-ness, and erased that Manilow-magic from his facial features. Of course, his big heart is still the same, and his gigantic talent can never be altered... but gracious, I would do anything if they could take away all of those surgeries and give us back our Barry.

Manilow fans were growing older very comfortably with Barry before all of those surgeries, having followed his music and his career from the 1970s... it was heart-breaking to look at some of those photos and see pictures that were nearly unrecognizable as our sweet and simply-nice Manilow.

We still love you, Barry... and we love your music... but please, please, enough with the surgery.

A day in Houston...

We drove into Houston this morning.... beautiful sunny day, getting warm now since the clouds have left us and the temperatures have returned to normal. (Finally.)

First stop was 'New York Bagels' on Hillcroft... a small shop that sells bagels one-by-one, or by-the-dozen. And those bagels... perfectly made, baked so well that if you close your eyes after taking a bite, you'd swear you were in a bagel shop in NYC or on Long Island.  We didn't eat there, but we bought fresh bagels to bring home which are now sitting nicely in the freezer, all wrapped up and ready to defrost when the bagel urge hits... and they will taste as if they'd just been baked.

My husband found three independently-owned bookshops that we stopped at... one sold just new books, and the store was so small and their choices were so few that we didn't stay there very long. The second shop was owned by a man who's been in the book business for 37 years, and his collection of books clearly showed that. His books went from floor to ceiling, and there were metal ladders scattered here and there for browsing the top shelves. (As if...)                                          

That bookshop had a good selection of books, but no rhyme or reason to the location of each section. So many of his books were covered with dust and musty odors that I wouldn't have wanted to add those volumes to my own library shelves. I did find a very decent copy of a biography of Jackie Gleason and I brought that up to the counter to pay for it. The store's owner looked at the cover of the book, let out a long sigh, and told me "Well, I wish I'd had time to read this book before it got selected for purchase."  I resisted the urge to suggest that the reason one opens a bookshop is to sell books.

The last bookstore seemed to have a lot of promise from the outside.... it was an older house, nicely kept on the exterior, and I envisioned little rooms filled with well-stocked shelves and comfy chairs. I was correct about the little rooms... lots of them, resembling a maze. And the shelves were stocked, but the books were so rammed into all of the shelves that the spines were bent on a lot of the hardcovers, and the dust... excuse me while I sneeze.  They did have some chairs here and there, and two sofas, and even a few big pillows on the floor.... none of which would you care to sit on because of the dirt and the dust. Oh well.... when we found our way through the maze and got to the front door, we left quietly.

We had lunch at The Red Lion Pub... advertised as a British pub...... we split an order of fish and chips, which was very good, but not as delicious as the fish we had in London last summer. The pubs in London know how to fry their fish so the outside is crisp, the inside isn't oily, and the filet itself melts like butter as you eat it. We've been spoiled with extremely good restaurants over the years... but... The Red Lion Pub was good, just not great if you've eaten fish and chips in London.

While we were downtown, we stopped in at The British Isles, which is a shop near Rice Village that sells everything and anything that can be imported from England, Scotland, and Wales. I bought some tea biscuits, and a little tea strainer that fits nicely over a teacup, and I found a pretty little teapot with the British flag on it, but it had teeny chips along the spout and they didn't have another. I'll look for it on eBay, and probably find it for less than the price of that expensive little shop.

So that's been the day. My best dark jeans are back in the closet, along with my city shoes and my best purse and scarf... and as I type, Sweet Pea is curled up on my lap snuggled down into my old jeans and he's been purring since we got home. This cat misses us like a puppy would when we're gone for a whole day.

Houston was fun... the traffic was horrible... the construction sites were inconvenient (don't they ever stop building?)... and it's good to be home.

Got nails?

One of my favorite things is having a nice manicure. Pretty fingernails make me smile because I'm not paying $40 or more to sit in a salon and have polish put on my nails with the same brush that's been applying polish to heaven-only-knows how many previous nails before me.

So there I was this morning, browsing through Pinterest and looking at the different designs of 'nail art' that are all over the Internet. And art it certainly is, especially when you get to the glitter and rhinestones and paintings that can be applied with nail polish these days.  I didn't much like the tiny jewels and pearls on the fingernails... that's not exactly where I want that kind of texture. I can see everything getting caught on those rhinestones, not to mention the little textured rose petals that can be applied to one's fingernails. They were certainly pretty, but not as practical as smoothly painted and polished nails.

I especially loved the nails with glitter, and looking closely at those designs, I knew that I could do that myself. So that's what I set out to do this morning.... and it worked beautifully. First--- clean, clean, polish-free fingernails to start. Then you apply a coat of clear and let it dry thoroughly. Then on goes a coat of whatever color you like.... my 'signature' color is a brick-red shade that I've worn for years, simply because that was always my Aunt Dolly's favorite color... it's a bold color without being brassy, and it works in all seasons.

After the brick-red dried, I took a softer rose color and applied that in one stroke on the left side of my nails, in sort of an upside-down triangle shape, with the wide part of the triangle being at the tip, and the shorter point going down the left edge of each nail. Pretty just as it was, but I wanted to add some glitter.

When the rose-colored triangle had dried, I took the clear polish and brushed that over the triangle... one nail at a time because before that could start to dry, I took a little shaker-bottle of gold glitter and sprinkled a bit over the wet rose-colored polish.  As the polish dries, the glitter sets itself into the wet color and when it dries, it stays there.  When all ten fingernails had the glitter, I waited about fifteen minutes and then applied a coat of clear polish to the entire nail. When that first coat was dried, I added another coat of clear..... and the end result is fantastic, if I do say so myself.

The one coat of clear at the beginning smooths out your nail surface before you start adding the colors... and the last two coats of clear polish will harden your nails and protect the colors and the glitter, and make your manicure last longer. It goes without saying that when you go to this much trouble for your nails, a pair of rubber gloves for the kitchen is a must. Ditto for any kind of gardening.

So here I sit, with a really pretty manicure, which cost me pennies instead of huge dollars, plus it was fun doing it, and while you're waiting for the coats of polish to dry, you can scroll through your Blogs or look through the endless categories on Pinterest.

Must. Love. Shoes.

Sometimes the City-Girl just comes out to play... and more often than not, she ends up in the shoe department of the local Palais Royal.

After spending half of yesterday with the vacuum in one hand and a broom in the other as I cleaned up the needles from the big Christmas tree, today just had to be a different kind of day. I had an appointment to get my hair trimmed, which is right across the highway from Palais Royal, so (after-Christmas coupons in my purse) that's where I went.

Of course, everything in the store was on sale... I bought a cute 'Frozen' purse for my friend Fran's granddaughter (it's heart-shaped, so it's perfect for Valentine's Day), and I found a black leopard-print long sweater, sort of a poncho-type but with sleeves and the front is open so it doesn't go over your head (which makes it very un-poncho-ish)... and then I looked at the shoes. Not that I meant to, but the cashier gave me two 40%-off coupons for shoes after I paid for the first two items.

Never let it be said that I don't take advantage of a sale on shoes. I love shoes, and always have, and I think it's in the family genes because there isn't a female in our family who didn't collect shoes like some people collect sea shells. And come to think of it, my dad and his brothers all had respect for a well-made shoe, and kept them shined and polished at all times.

However... those shoes on sale... I found the most darling pair of leopard print heels... and not high spiked heels (which wouldn't be practical out here) but these are wedge-heels, a good three inches high, not the one-half-inch wedge of an older lady (with my apologies to my nearly 102-yr-old Aunt Dolly). Comfy as can be, and that print is soft and to-die-for, plus a little leopard goes a long way and with my best dark jeans, these will look delicious.

I did look at other shoes, but there wasn't anything there that I didn't already have in my closet, or somewhat similar... so I looked at flats and sneakers. Well, hush my puppies... they had boxes and boxes of new designs for 'Keds' sneakers. I grew up wearing white Keds, except when The Beatles crossed the Atlantic, then my Keds had pictures of John, Paul, George, and Ringo all over them. (And those vintage Keds are probably worth a small fortune today.)

Palais Royal had Keds in their classic white (which is usually my choice), plus blue, and beige with little bow-designs all over them, and dark blue, and stripes... and.... black Keds with white polka-dots outlined in silver glitter. After all these cold days of looking at retro polka-dotted shoes on Pinterest, I just had to buy those black/white/silver Keds. The magic of those Keds is the silver glitter... I told my husband that they're the perfect shoes for walking around the Disney parks, should we be so inclined this coming Summer.

Love those leopard-print heels. But if this damp, cold, misty weather doesn't quit, the leopard shoes will be staying in the closet till the sun shines again.  I don't think the leopard print would be that attractive with water spots all over them, poor things.

Winter days in January.

Oh well. That beautiful warm and sunny day that we recently enjoyed is now a distant memory. The cold winds have blown down into Texas from the frozen north... and we have had temperatures at and below the freezing point, and today we're having rain. Very cold rain that could turn into sleet in some parts of the state. I'm waiting (not very patiently) for the sun to shine again and bring warm weather with it.

Oh well. I've been reading... and adding hundreds of pins to my Pinterest page.  So many pins... so little time. Even with this stupid weather, there's still household things to do... cleaning and laundry, cooking and making soup.... hot soups seem to be number one on the menu parade here, because of this stupid weather.

As I type, Sweet Pea is sitting on my lap with his head hanging over my left arm. Before too long, my arm will 'go to sleep' and it will be impossible to type with my left hand. When I was on my Pinterest page a little while ago, Sweet Pea was enthralled with all of the pictures and wouldn't take his eyes from the screen. Now, with just letters and words on the screen, he's not at all interested in the computer. I guess he will keep his little kitty-head hanging over my arm until something more interesting than words come up on the laptop.

Oh well. My husband has decided not to look further into adopting that little dog. The rescue organization never did call back. Most likely because that dog is located in Houston... we're up here in the Hill Country, and no one there is probably interested in driving two hours to make sure we have a good home for that little dog.

I suggested to my husband that he not show me any more photos of cute little dogs that he really does not want to adopt.

Oh well.

Spring day in January...

... and that is perfectly fine with me. Today was a glorious day, warm and sunny, and just so very nice. Went for a walk this afternoon with three friends on the road here... and it may as well have been an April afternoon. The weather wizards are promising another blast of cold air for tomorrow night, though... but we won't think about that just yet. (Says Scarlet.)

As I type, our cat Sweet Pea is on my lap, resting his head on my left arm. Ever since I moved my laptop from the second floor sitting room to the first floor breakfast room, I have yet to sit here by myself and type. As soon as I sit in this chair, Sweet Pea comes running from wherever he is and jumps on my lap. He is enthralled by the computer screen... especially when I look through pictures on Pinterest. Sweet Pea is also enthralled by just about anyone's lap... he is a cuddling-up cat if ever there was one, and has been since the day we found him. Truly a Romeo of  a cat.

Last night, my husband happened upon a little dog on one of the rescue sites he looks at from time to time. The two-yr-old dog is a Tibetan Spaniel mix... as cute as can be, of course... and after reading the history of that particular breed of dog, we were both interested and intrigued. Centuries ago, pure-bred Tibetan Spaniels were raised by Buddhist monks-- not for profit, though... the monks gave away the puppies as 'gifts of treasure' to people they held in high esteem. These dogs were raised to be lap-dogs, very friendly and smart, easy to train, and surely easy to spoil.

I had just recently finished reading "The Dalai Lama's Cat" -- a wonderful book that I suggested my husband read as well, being that he has done a lot of reading on Buddhist traditions and lifestyles. We both looked at the pictures and the video posted on the web-site about this particular dog that is up for adoption, and we agreed that we could give that little spaniel a good home. And then I quickly went downstairs to get my laptop from the breakfast room, brought it upstairs to the bedroom, and I was sitting there reading everything about the breed, and searching for every picture I could possibly find.

So there we were... my husband in his office reading about that rescue site, and I was in the bedroom reading about Tibetan Spaniels and telling my husband all the most important points about the breed.

"It's a sign! It's a sign!".... I called out to my husband.
"And what sign is that?".... he wanted to know.
"The 'sign' is that you're reading a book about the Dalai Lama's cat and you find a Tibetan Spaniel dog that needs a forever home."
"That's not exactly a sign," he said.

Ten minutes later, my husband calls out to me from his office:  "Do you know what we could name that little dog?  Doggie Lama! "

My husband sent an eMail to the rescue organization last night.... told them we were interested in getting more information about that particular dog, and gave them our phone number. As I type, it's just after 7:30 in the evening... no one has called us back.  My husband has decided that he would wait another hour, and then get in touch with the woman who has been fostering that little dog.

I've been searching for pictures of Tibetan Spaniel-mix puppies and dogs, and posting them to my Pinterest page. All of them, whether pure-bred or mixed, are just so darn cute.

This afternoon just after lunch-time, I got a text message from our young friend Miss C......... "There are sure a lot of puppy pics on your Pinterest page.... what's going on up there!?"

I called C back, told her about the little dog, and eMailed the link with the dog's photo and video. She was so excited that I could hear her jumping up and down over the phone.  I also told C not to get too excited just yet.... we're just in the 'talking stage' about this little dog.

Sure is a cute little dog..... and I don't think I'd really want to name her "Doggie Lama," as my husband suggested. She would need a cute little girl's name.... something to fit her personality. But we'll get to the naming bridge when it's time.

Happy New Year!

As I type, there is a symphony of birds out in the courtyard between the house and the guest cottage. So many birds... mostly sparrows, but with some cardinals and blue birds also in the mix. My husband has been filling up the bird feeder every day and the birds must have told their feathered friends about the free food because there seems to be more and more birds each morning.

The crows are also still here, picking at the tiny native pecans that have fallen from our trees in the side yard. We also have pecan trees in the backyard which yield the larger pecans that I gather up, shell, and use in recipes. But those native pecans... much too small to be bothered shelling, and the nuts are hard to remove. Not hard for the crows, because they hit those shells against the road and then use their beaks to dig out the nut-meat. Being beak-less, I prefer to just leave those small pecans to the crows.

We're starting off the new year with rain... and colder temperatures than normal. I'm waiting for those warmer days, like we had before Christmas. I don't like bundling up every time I have to go outside, and I surely don't like taking my car out in the pouring rain and then having to wash it down when I get home. So many dirt roads around... and the mud.... gets me crazy to drive a dirty car. (City Girl is still alive and thriving within me.)

Christmas un-decorating is nearly done. We'll take down the big tree this weekend, and my husband and handyman M will drag it out into the pasture and add it to our brush pile that's filled with other trees from past Christmases. Those brush piles have become safe havens for birds, squirrels, mice, rabbits... and the hawks hover over them looking for easy prey. Not every little corner of this country bubble is as safe as one would think.

I'm slowly getting back to my books.... and if I can stay away from my Pinterest Page for a good long while, I'll get some serious reading done. My pile of books-to-be-read has grown since before Christmas, and my husband bought me more books for Christmas, which I've been tending to as I have the time. December is always the busiest month, and it's usually also the month with so many extra books to read.

Another year.... 2015... so hard to believe those numbers. The years are just flying by, whether we pay attention or not. Better to always pay attention, so you don't miss anything.