While I'd like to tell you that my husband wears the pants in this family, I'm sure he'd give you a story to prove the complete opposite. The truth actually falls somewhere in the middle, I think. If not, then I hold a weightier side, but that's because he's quicker at giving in than I am. He's wiser too!
I always try to discuss things with Mike before any decision is made, unless it has to be a snap decision, which is very rare. We often discuss things to death before we make a decision, not arguing about things, but each considering the other's opinions and concerns. Eventually we do come to some agreement to do it, to not do it, or to modify it and then do it.
Before we were married we decided to see a counselor. We got along so well, but we'd both been married before, and once in awhile some issue would rise up that was born of old baggage. So, we wanted to get that all out of the way before we committed our remaining lives to each other. We met with Andrew a number of times, and each time, he'd shake his head and tell us that he'd never seen a couple who considered one another the way the two of us did. When he presented us with a scenerio, we'd look at each other and we'd ask the other, "What do you want to do." and answer, "Well, what do YOU want to do?"
After we were married, things continue to go that way. It might be what to have for dinner, what to do for that day or where to go on a road trip. Usually the dinner thing is the easiest decision, because very often we are thinking of the same meal!
I think we're a pretty good team...a couple who takes turns making the final decision. But, if you come to my house, and look at my refrigerator door, you may feel differently, because there hangs a headline, in large font, which reads "Queen Kathleen". It won't take you long to figure out which of us PUT it there.... but I decided I'd leave it there, just to remind a certain someone who's the boss!
Friday, April 27, 2012
Sea Chest
My mother has a large wooden box called a 'sea chest'. It originally belonged to my great grandfather. She also has a framed copy of his 'Pilots License' which gave him permission to run boats in the waters of the East Coast.
Sometimes I look at that chest, which sits in front of Mom's couch in the living room, used as a coffee table, and I wonder where it has been in its lifetime. These boxes were made to hold the belongings of a seaman when he was aboard a ship. Since GrGrandfather was the captain of a number of boats, I can only imagine how much time that box rocking on the waves.
How I wish that I could ask the questions that plague me at times. There is history in that piece of furniture, and all I know for sure is who it belonged to. Who built it? When and where? What boats did it travel inside of, and what ports were visited. How many years did it travel? What items did GrGrandfather fill it with? Did he keep books inside of it, or records of any sort? What stories could this wooden box share if it was given a voice?
As I said to another researcher, genealogy presents us with all manner of mysteries. We, as the investigaors, want to be able to solve every mystery, but often we can't. As frustrating as it is to give up the investigation of a certain vein, it sometimes has to be done. Sometimes the answer will be found later, in some unique way. We might stumble over it in a writing while looking for something else. Someone who has an old tale to tell might shed some light on it. But, unfortunately, there are times when the answers are hidden for all time and eternity. I think that's the case with this sea chest.
Sometimes I look at that chest, which sits in front of Mom's couch in the living room, used as a coffee table, and I wonder where it has been in its lifetime. These boxes were made to hold the belongings of a seaman when he was aboard a ship. Since GrGrandfather was the captain of a number of boats, I can only imagine how much time that box rocking on the waves.
How I wish that I could ask the questions that plague me at times. There is history in that piece of furniture, and all I know for sure is who it belonged to. Who built it? When and where? What boats did it travel inside of, and what ports were visited. How many years did it travel? What items did GrGrandfather fill it with? Did he keep books inside of it, or records of any sort? What stories could this wooden box share if it was given a voice?
As I said to another researcher, genealogy presents us with all manner of mysteries. We, as the investigaors, want to be able to solve every mystery, but often we can't. As frustrating as it is to give up the investigation of a certain vein, it sometimes has to be done. Sometimes the answer will be found later, in some unique way. We might stumble over it in a writing while looking for something else. Someone who has an old tale to tell might shed some light on it. But, unfortunately, there are times when the answers are hidden for all time and eternity. I think that's the case with this sea chest.
Saturday, April 21, 2012
.Recipe
A friend of mine was creating her own cookbook to give to her family members. With the recipes, she placed pictures of family gatherings, the dish, the ingredients, or individual family members. She described one picture to me of her husband sleeping in a chair. I decided to send her this, and I believe it was included in her book!
Recipe
Take one charming host
Add two glasses of wine..
Drink while mingling well with guests....
Pour third glass of wine
Combine with choice of appetizers...
After completely demolishing those,
Fill large plate with hefty portions of entree
Devour and refill, while ingesting another glass of wine, or two, if desired.
Clear table
While digesting inhaled food,
Serve filling, fattening, dessert
Serve filling, fattening, dessert
Be social for as long as it takes
Kiss guests goodnight
Retire to favorite chair
Take antacid..
And find sleep while wife cleans up after party.
~Kathleen Beebe Waygood
July 23, 2010
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Thoughts of Grandparents...
Old wooden screen doors that slam when you've gone through
And chipped green paint that falls from the door
When the hollow sound breaks the air
Take me back....way back...to a time when I was young
When you were still there.
Creaky wide board floors that squeak when you cross the room
And have gaps between the planks to steal coins and trap small jewelry
That has been dropped by clumsy fingers
Take me back...way back...to childhood years
When you were still there.
Lilacs dark and tall that smell so fragrant on the drowsy evening
And pale ones that play on the breeze beside the others
Outside the dining room window
Take me back...far back....to lazy, carefree days
When you were still there.
Rowboats floating freely, yet tethered to posts in the breakwater
And rocking softly like cradles for sailors
While gulls soar above screeching lullabies
Take me back....to long ago...when days were endless
When you were still there.
Kathleen Beebe Waygood
April 19, 2012
And chipped green paint that falls from the door
When the hollow sound breaks the air
Take me back....way back...to a time when I was young
When you were still there.
Creaky wide board floors that squeak when you cross the room
And have gaps between the planks to steal coins and trap small jewelry
That has been dropped by clumsy fingers
Take me back...way back...to childhood years
When you were still there.
Lilacs dark and tall that smell so fragrant on the drowsy evening
And pale ones that play on the breeze beside the others
Outside the dining room window
Take me back...far back....to lazy, carefree days
When you were still there.
Rowboats floating freely, yet tethered to posts in the breakwater
And rocking softly like cradles for sailors
While gulls soar above screeching lullabies
Take me back....to long ago...when days were endless
When you were still there.
Kathleen Beebe Waygood
April 19, 2012
Monday, April 16, 2012
Family Quilts
Awhile back, I wrote a blog entry about afghans and quilts made by my female ancestors. I promised that I would show some pictures once I dragged them out of their hiding places and took some photos of them. These are some, but not all of them. I may show some of the others at a later date...but today, it's just these.
This pattern is called Churn Dash...and it was done by my Great Grandmother on my father's side. It was made some time in the mid to late 1800's, and some of the fabrics are quite worn, suggesting that they might have been fabrics from clothing that was worn prior to the quilt being made. This one is quilted and has a cotton batting between the top and the back. It's quite heavy, but not thick.
This one is another coverlet made by my maternal grandmother, called Maple Leaf.
This Double Wedding Ring pattern is quilted and hand stitched. It was made by my grandmother, and she, most probably, was assisted by her mother...and/or perhaps one of her two sisters. My grandmother was married in 1913, and the quilt was made somewhere around that time.
I'm thrilled to be the owner of these.
Friday, April 13, 2012
SAMMIS BEACH II
Sammis Beach II
I cannot return to the place now
Where so many fond memories were made
Without a hint of sorrow
As the beach grass waves
And the sky light glints across the bay
I cannot see the children there
I feel longing, a hole as deep
As that blue water which cradles
A powdered shell that once housed my brother's soul
It was just as he'd written his wish
He was returned to this serene place
Where so many fond memories were made
Where ever else I may find myself
I can remember his laughter and his wit
Without a hint of sorrow
But where the blue water meets
The sand that, as he boy, he played upon
My heart longs for his presence again
Then we would run
And sing and paddle and swim
Without a hint of sorrow
~Kathleen Beebe Waygood
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
SAMMIS BEACH
Sammis Beach
Where the bay water licks
At the rough and shell-filled shore
There are memories of days
When my childhood hours were spent
With cousins who taunted
And brothers who followed suit
Days when summer's sun caused red skin
Before we knew that the sun was not our friend.
Those were days when family gathered
To share the afternoon of lazing
When Dad would paddle his canoe
Like a great Indian warrior
Across the shallow places
Where the spider crabs sought out our toes.
Sunday lunches of peanut butter and jelly
Sandwiches with as much sand as jelly
Collections of tiny hermit crabs who poked out
Only to swiftly retreat
And hunts for camouflaged sand crabs
That burrowed into the sides of the holes we'd dig
Weary and tired with salt stained skin
We would wander to our homes
And prepare a meal to share in Grandma's backyard.
~Kathleen Beebe Waygood
Monday, April 2, 2012
Movies....
We're not big movie theater buffs. Oh! Please don't misunderstand....we love movies! We just don't care to view them in the movie theaters.
My first complaint would be the price of entry. While I recognize that films are created in order to make money, what they have cost to make is absurd...and what they are charging the public in order to recuperate their out lay, is painful to the pocketbook. Then you have the priviledge of purchasing snacks to munch on as you watch the expensive show. Please don't attempt to take your own choices of goodies into the theater in your purse or knapsack. Instead, you're expected to buy dry (or greasy) popcorn and a sugary drink at the concession stand. The last time we went to the theater with friends, each ticket was $12 to get through the door, and not wanting anything in the way of a snack, we chose bottled water. We paid $4 for a small bottle! Thirty-two dollars for two people to have a two-hour "good time" with a couple of friends?
For the cost of a 'high dollar' ticket, we get to sit for two plus hours in uncomfortable seats, shifting and wiggling to find a comfortable spot for a few minutes. We have our ears tortured by surround sound (or whatever they call it these days) at top volume. We are blasted with freezing temperatures where I have to bundle up in whatever outter wear is available or we feel as if we've entered a sauna. All these things distract attention from what might be an excellent movie.
Sometimes we've left the theater with more than we took in with us. There are movie-goers who are not always considerate of others. Their chewing gum has been left somewhere that eventually ends up on the sole of a shoe. There's not much worse than trying to remove someone else's rejected gum from your own shoe!
Thankfully we have other ways to see the touted 'best films'. We rent them from the counters at the local grocery store, or we wait for them to appear on t.v. If we know that it's a great movie, such as 'The Help' is, we might purchase it for our own (currently small) collection. We can enjoy these offerings in the coziness of our own favorite chair, at a comfortable temperature in the room, without ear drum-damaging volume, with our choice of snacks from the kitchen, with our friends or alone. It's good for us!
My first complaint would be the price of entry. While I recognize that films are created in order to make money, what they have cost to make is absurd...and what they are charging the public in order to recuperate their out lay, is painful to the pocketbook. Then you have the priviledge of purchasing snacks to munch on as you watch the expensive show. Please don't attempt to take your own choices of goodies into the theater in your purse or knapsack. Instead, you're expected to buy dry (or greasy) popcorn and a sugary drink at the concession stand. The last time we went to the theater with friends, each ticket was $12 to get through the door, and not wanting anything in the way of a snack, we chose bottled water. We paid $4 for a small bottle! Thirty-two dollars for two people to have a two-hour "good time" with a couple of friends?
For the cost of a 'high dollar' ticket, we get to sit for two plus hours in uncomfortable seats, shifting and wiggling to find a comfortable spot for a few minutes. We have our ears tortured by surround sound (or whatever they call it these days) at top volume. We are blasted with freezing temperatures where I have to bundle up in whatever outter wear is available or we feel as if we've entered a sauna. All these things distract attention from what might be an excellent movie.
Sometimes we've left the theater with more than we took in with us. There are movie-goers who are not always considerate of others. Their chewing gum has been left somewhere that eventually ends up on the sole of a shoe. There's not much worse than trying to remove someone else's rejected gum from your own shoe!
Thankfully we have other ways to see the touted 'best films'. We rent them from the counters at the local grocery store, or we wait for them to appear on t.v. If we know that it's a great movie, such as 'The Help' is, we might purchase it for our own (currently small) collection. We can enjoy these offerings in the coziness of our own favorite chair, at a comfortable temperature in the room, without ear drum-damaging volume, with our choice of snacks from the kitchen, with our friends or alone. It's good for us!
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Pizza
Within my circle of hometown friends, there is often a discussion, while looking back on our growing up years, of where things were located and what's there now. One of the most popular subjects to discuss is pizza places, and who made the best pizza pies back in the day. I've yet to discover who is the 'winner' in each of these debates, and it really doesn't make a lot of difference to me at this point.
But, to say "Pizza is pizza" would be a terrible mistake. That just isn't true at all! {Frozen pizza doesn't ever enter into these conversations because it's no where near 'real' pizza, however palettable it may be. ) I'm not sure that there can be a 'real winner' in this discussion, because each of the pizza joints made/makes it differently somehow, and one's own personal tastes are not the same as another's. While some sauces are thick, others are not, some are acid-y, others are sweet. Some pizza makers add a lot of cheese, others are skimpy in their offerings. Crusts may be thick or thin, crunchy or bready. I think it all depends on what combination is best to satisfy you.
I'm a lover of most things Italian. I've often said that if it has red sauce, and white stretchy cheese, I'm good with it. That is a bit of an exaggeration, but not by much. I am a little more fussy about my pizza, however, especially since we moved away from what places I knew to be the best ones. Arriving in the south, I knew I had to explore them, to locate a favorite. I asked my 20 yr veteran to southern living where we could get his idea of the 'best.' Ironically enough, his answer was "New York Pizza." We discovered that the Italian owners were from NY city, and boy! did they know their stuff! It became an immediate favorite.
Unfortunately, the closest of their two places closed, and in order to get one of their delicious pies, we have to travel 12 miles (20 min.) each way. We've decided that with gas prices as high as they've become, the only way we'll get a NY Pizza is to buy one while we're already in the vicinity. We've even been known to buy a couple at the same time, eating one and freezing the others.
When NY Pizza closed, another took it's place, but it wasn't very good, and we abandoned it after two or three good tries. It soon sold out to another ...a Greek man runs it. It's fairly good, but we still hunted for a replacement that might be better. We found it. It's called Real Pizza, and believe me, it is real, as well as really good. It's only about 4.2 miles from us. The offerings are multiple, the sizes are too, and the prices are better than average. We've got it made now!
We had take out from there last night. I wish I'd opted for pizza, as my husband did. I chose a 'sub' of chicken, bacon and mozzerella cheese with ranch dressing, which has been different each time I've had it, depending upon who makes it. Last night it was disappointing. Mike had chosen Hawaiian pizza, which was quite tasty, with its ham and pineapple. (somehow, it seems strange to me to see that combination on a pizza, even though whenever I've had it, I've always liked it. ) While we were waiting for things to warm, our neighbors popped in, and we got into a discussion about pizza. They raved about one they had back home in Iowa. It was made with the usual ingredients, but then Canadian bacon and rinsed and dried sauerkraut were placed on the top before baking. I'm sorry....but that's criminal! I like sauerkraut, but cannot fathom ruining a pizza with it!
To say that 'Pizza is pizza' is definitely a mistake. What say YOU about pizza?
But, to say "Pizza is pizza" would be a terrible mistake. That just isn't true at all! {Frozen pizza doesn't ever enter into these conversations because it's no where near 'real' pizza, however palettable it may be. ) I'm not sure that there can be a 'real winner' in this discussion, because each of the pizza joints made/makes it differently somehow, and one's own personal tastes are not the same as another's. While some sauces are thick, others are not, some are acid-y, others are sweet. Some pizza makers add a lot of cheese, others are skimpy in their offerings. Crusts may be thick or thin, crunchy or bready. I think it all depends on what combination is best to satisfy you.
I'm a lover of most things Italian. I've often said that if it has red sauce, and white stretchy cheese, I'm good with it. That is a bit of an exaggeration, but not by much. I am a little more fussy about my pizza, however, especially since we moved away from what places I knew to be the best ones. Arriving in the south, I knew I had to explore them, to locate a favorite. I asked my 20 yr veteran to southern living where we could get his idea of the 'best.' Ironically enough, his answer was "New York Pizza." We discovered that the Italian owners were from NY city, and boy! did they know their stuff! It became an immediate favorite.
Unfortunately, the closest of their two places closed, and in order to get one of their delicious pies, we have to travel 12 miles (20 min.) each way. We've decided that with gas prices as high as they've become, the only way we'll get a NY Pizza is to buy one while we're already in the vicinity. We've even been known to buy a couple at the same time, eating one and freezing the others.
When NY Pizza closed, another took it's place, but it wasn't very good, and we abandoned it after two or three good tries. It soon sold out to another ...a Greek man runs it. It's fairly good, but we still hunted for a replacement that might be better. We found it. It's called Real Pizza, and believe me, it is real, as well as really good. It's only about 4.2 miles from us. The offerings are multiple, the sizes are too, and the prices are better than average. We've got it made now!
We had take out from there last night. I wish I'd opted for pizza, as my husband did. I chose a 'sub' of chicken, bacon and mozzerella cheese with ranch dressing, which has been different each time I've had it, depending upon who makes it. Last night it was disappointing. Mike had chosen Hawaiian pizza, which was quite tasty, with its ham and pineapple. (somehow, it seems strange to me to see that combination on a pizza, even though whenever I've had it, I've always liked it. ) While we were waiting for things to warm, our neighbors popped in, and we got into a discussion about pizza. They raved about one they had back home in Iowa. It was made with the usual ingredients, but then Canadian bacon and rinsed and dried sauerkraut were placed on the top before baking. I'm sorry....but that's criminal! I like sauerkraut, but cannot fathom ruining a pizza with it!
To say that 'Pizza is pizza' is definitely a mistake. What say YOU about pizza?
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