Daylight Saving Time Frolics

Yes, folks, it’s Daylight Saving Time again (or the end of it, when an hour magically “disappears”…) and I’m tellin’ ya, it wreaks havoc on my entire being.

This morning I woke up at 4:30 believing it was 4:30 (my favorite time to wake up), only to discover it was 3:30… aarrggh!  It’s perfidy, I tell you, perfidy!

Be forewarned… this coming week, my thoughts will resemble the jumbled illustration above (confusing, but colorful nonetheless!) :) and I’m asking you to please bear with me.  Moving the hands back on the clock does not constitute an immediate “aha” by my bio-rhythms or brainwaves.

Thankfully, Oklahoma’s seasons follow the calendar — never mind the clocks — and it’ll continue to be autumn until the next season begins.  (I won’t mention the “w” word until it’s official…)

The only “cure” I’ve found for Daylight Saving Time is to spend as much time outdoors as possible.  Let’s take a walk, shall we?

Nature calms me down.  Clarifies my thoughts.  Causes me to forget.

What was I writing about…?

Oh yeah!  Daylight Saving Time…

What are your plans for the “extra hour?”

Enjoying (?) the semi-annual rite,

~ Kim

Lessons From the Lightning Tree

Trees have a way of teaching, by virtue of their existence.

They adapt to life’s storms with stalwart resilience.

They stand… until they can’t.

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A recent TV commercial defined smooth as the “new young”  (which was followed by a momentary twinge… and a hearty laugh.)

Not knocking it… not scoffing, either.  It all depends on the source of your definitions.

I don’t know about you, but I haven’t been smooth since I was a baby.  (Even with a liberal dose of spackling compound, I’d be hard-pressed…)

A visit to the Lightning Tree confirmed my reality.

As I admired its gnarled presence, my “old” friend reminded me that aging is an inevitable process.

The truth is: aging can’t be reversed.  It happens whether you acknowledge it or not.  It occurs in spite of attempts to delay it.

(Note:  The disclaimer at the end of the ad stated that the product reduces the appearance of aging.)  Nothing to get hysterical about.

Simply the truth.

There’s nothing wrong with a few crunches or throwing a little paint on the ol’ barn.  I’m a firm believer in taking care of what you’ve got.

But, I also know life’s lightning bolts eventually take their toll… and, sometimes they leave a mess.

(I’m learning to live with the mess.)

The idea of being weathered has grown on me.

It’s comforting.

Appealing…

When I got back to the house, I consulted another “old friend” for the definition of young.  (One who went to college with me almost forty years ago… my favorite dictionary.)  It said:

“Recently come into being.”

Which can happen at any age.

Hallelujah.

Granted, I’ll take care of what I’ve got, but I refuse to fret about it.

Thank you, my wise, beautiful, young/”old” friend.

I’m resolved to stand… until I can’t.

Enjoying stalwart resilience,

~ Kim

What lessons have you learned about aging?

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Everything But The Kitchen Sink

Good morning (or afternoon or evening), wherever you are.  Thought I’d start your week with a sunrise from my recent mini-vacation.  Take a moment to enjoy…….

Okay, back to business.  (I know you’re busy — I am, too.)

First, hearty thanks to Mike at The Culinary Lens for “tagging” me.  His website is a treasure — food, photos, travelogues, restaurant reviews, creative get-togethers, you name it!  (Do yourself a favor and click on his links.)  I feel honored to be among Mike’s “tag-ee’s” — thank you, friend!

Let the games begin…  Since I’ve only been blogging a few months, it was difficult to select The Magnificent Seven.  (Or at least that’s the idea behind this venture.)  I’ll cut to the chase.

Note:  For your viewing pleasure (and expediency), I’ve linked the photos to the respective posts, too.  Click away!

Most Beautiful Post.  Last Of The Magnolias (Flowergram III) ~ Fiction, flowers, and a few thoughts about aging gracefully.

Most Popular Post.  Granita ParfaitThe little champagne flute that could.

Most Controversial Post.  Alright.  I’ve posted everything from “Close Encounters” to “Cow Tipping,” so I had to think about this one for a moment.  In the end, it boiled down to “credibility,” which my last post surely jeopardized…  Who in their right mind would admit to eating __________?  (Click the link if you must know.)

In my defense, I’ll answer that question with a question.  Why do folks drool over Red Velvet Cake with more food coloring than my afore-hinted-at choice (not to mention 2 pounds of cream cheese and powdered sugar), or vinaigrette sweetened with sugar or honey liberally drizzled over a perfectly good plate of arugula?  Because sometimes ya just gotta.

Food is supposed to make you smile, yes?

Most Helpful Post.  I submit a recent post, with this summary:  Don’t hurry, be happy. 

Post Whose Success Surprised You.  My very first post, Almost…  (Thank you, friends, for your comments.)  Any post that generates comments is a success to a novice blogger.

The Post That Didn’t Get The Attention It Deserved.  A Tribute To Trees.  “The Lightning Tree” is worth the look alone — probably the most dramatic photograph I’ve ever taken.  So far.

The Post You’re Most Proud Of.  Boy howdy, aren’t we proud of all of our posts?  It’s why we blog, right? — to give others a glimpse of our corner of the planet?  Or, at the very least, the inner workings of our __________minds?  (Feel free to insert your own adjectives…)

I’m downright proud of Encouragement: The Ripple Effect (thanks, Isabelle!) — not only for the encouragement, but because you meet some of the nicest folks in that post (tee hee) — and Gumby, too.

Tag, you’re it!

1)  Food Served With Love and Calories

2)  An Italian Cooking In The Midwest

3)  Cooking With Books

4)  Running With The Devil(ed) Eggs

5)  Welcome To Shirley’s Luxury Haven

Go!  Play!!!

NOTE:  Due to the length of this post, highlights from the mini-vacation will be coming soon to a blog near you.  As for the title of this post… please disregard.  I’m including the kitchen sink.

Kim’s Kitchen Sink Biscuits

2 c. flour

4 t. baking powder

1/2 t. salt

1/2 t. cream of tartar

2 t. sugar

1/2 c. shortening (or butter, chilled and cut into small pieces)

2/3 c. whole milk

1 clove of garlic, finely minced

*4 strips of bacon, fried and crumbled

*1/4 c. green onions, sauteed in bacon drippings (drain on paper towels before adding)

*1/2 c. sharp Cheddar cheese, shredded

Additional butter, melted

Garlic salt

Preheat oven to 425°.  Mix dry ingredients in a large bowl.  Cut in shortening (or butter) until mixture resembles coarse crumbs.  Fold in garlic, bacon*, onions* and cheese* and stir gently to coat with flour.  (*Measurements are approximate — it’s a Southern thang — use your judgment.)  Add milk all at once; stir just until moistened.

Drop by spoonfuls onto an ungreased baking sheet.  Bake for 10 to 12 minutes.  (I generally check them around 9 minutes; if the bottoms are browning too quickly, move them to the top rack to finish baking.)  Remove biscuits to a cooling rack; brush with melted butter and sprinkle with garlic salt to taste.  Serve warm.

Enjoying all things Southern, and tag, too!

~ Kim

A Tribute To Trees

Allow me to introduce you to our trees…

This Twin Tree shades our deck, provides a home for our songbirds, and reminds me of the way that The Man Of Few Words and I live — side by side, independently together, separate-but-one.  There’s a lot of love in that tree.

The Gnarled Roots Tree clings to the corner of our yard – a contrast in vulnerability and strength.  Exposing your roots takes courage.  There’s a lot of trust in that tree.

Near the bluff is the Enduring Tree.  Branded by the elements from a lifetime of living on the edge, it bares its soul and proclaims, “I’m still here.”  It also has the best view on the lake.  There’s a lot of me in that tree.

Then there’s our Driftwood Tree.  (On this particular day, it hosted a standoff between “Old Boy” and the buzzards.)  Once a stalwart sentinel on dry ground, it now stands in 30 feet of water, thanks to the Lake Eufaula Dam and “progress.”  But it still stands.  There’s a lot of faith in that tree.

On the way back to our house, I admire the Bent Tree.  It looks like it leaned into life and refused to give up.  There’s a lesson in that, and a lot of hope in that tree.

I mustn’t forget the Lightning Tree.  Struck down in its prime before we moved here, it’s a marvelous contrast to the shoreline and the occasional incredible cloud.  In spite of it’s shattered visage, there’s a lot of beauty left in that tree.

Finally, there’s the Sunset Tree…  trees, actually.

They’re natural-born story tellers and they graciously invite you to share your own…

I hope you do.

Enjoying trees and thanking the Creator for their beauty,

~Kim

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