personalities

quinkles that make us who we are

Will I EVER Be Freshly Pressed?

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Life would be so delightful if I were organized.  My blog would always be up to date with new posts and pics and recipes and good advice or awesome web sites for you to get coupons and free stuff.  Then I would be Freshly Pressed!  I need to be freshly pressed… every day.

rumpled me

Instead my little personality gets up and looks around at its rumpled little self, deciding to just wear what it already has on because, well, the chaos makes actually “getting it together” overwhelming.  How on earth does one become Freshly Pressed/freshly pressed?

I gave birth to “my baby” back in January of 2011.  My little blog has crawled along, sometimes actually getting up and walking really fast, but never quite getting to the point of where I imagined it would be at the end of the year.  And that is all my fault.  My appetite was tremendously starving for what life and I had cooked up for me, and I heaped way too many projects on my plate (hey, I am a Gemini) this past year, 2011, as usual.  BUT… I actually reached those goals!! And I documented them through my darling, little blog as I went along.

JJ & Brenda 1997

The tenth anniversary of my husband’s death was the impetus for this upheaval, this craving for living, this hodgepodge menu in my blog posting.  For a decade I had been stagnant, too full of grief over the losses and tragedies and heartaches I had endured.  What better way to break back into life than cooking and sharing that food with friends and then sharing the whole experience through a blog?

diverse appetites

Though my goal changed from filling bellies with the magazine recipes I had been saving for years to feeding my readers with thoughts on various subjects, it has been a sharing together of not just my appetite for life, but some of yours as well.

Some of the goal dates came and went — contractors do that all the time — and were reached a little later than planned.  And, well, those recipes and awesome meals for all my old and new friends didn’t quite pan out (pun intended) although I did cook a couple of good meals and make some mighty fine mice for Christmas in December of 2010, the year I started my “revamp Brenda” recipe.  That recipe is still in the perfecting stage.  The important outcome of this past year, though, is my accomplishments!  In spite of needing a freshly pressed, got-it-all-together overhaul, I managed to do all this:

apronsandappetites

the baby grand!

eeeeek!

revamping the wood floor

stained the fence and other outdoor wood.

new windows

began kitchen remodel.

cooked a couple of meals!

took girls to Disney

teaching piano

added a porch

taking girls on their first plane ride

There were other little projects that were completed in 2011 that were on my list of to-do things.

That’s a good, good feeling that I hope to continue into 2012!

In Need of the Pied Piper’s Flute

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toddler blog

My little baby blog is quickly turning into a toddler.  It is just so cute!  I love this little thing.  Just your typical blog mommy, bragging on my little creation.  Loving the header shots, loving my witty widgets (those things on the right-hand side), and loving the whole blog experience from the give-aways to checking my stats every day (well, maybe every other day now).  It’s been a great outlet for my less-than-creative creativity and a success as in actually blogging when I said I was going to do just that.

Out of the hundreds, okay, maybe scores of ideas/goals/projects I start on a regular basis, this is one I can say I have accomplished just because I have actually blogged.  Notice I did not say blogged well or blogged anything interesting or even blogged useful information.  Actually, I am fairly certain my groupies (I just had to say that) or followers, those wonderful people who have clicked somewhere on my page and professed a desire to follow along with my blog via email or some kind of RSS such as Google or Yahoo may have done so on a whim and may have never come back for a second or third glance.  Please don’t tell me if that’s what you did!

But I want my little darling to get up and run.  I realize this will take some effort on my part (which I haven’t been exerting as of late), and I also think it will take a little magic (since I’m really not that interesting and have limited skills).

Pied Piper and his flute

So I’m looking for a flute, a proverbial flute, one like Mr. Piper had when all the children followed him.  Something fun and exciting and read-worthy.  Something that will make the Pressers at WordPress notice and put me on their Freshly Pressed page.  Hmmmm.

Love stories for February perhaps?  With pictures included?  Vacation in Southern Illinois with pics of places to stay and things to do?  Homes I’ve lived in before?  People I’ve dated?  People you’ve dated?

I’ll keep working on this Pied Piper plan.  In the meantime, keep holding my little blog’s hand while it toddles along.  We so appreciate it!

The Effort at Making and the Ease of Breaking Habits

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Back a few posts ago I wrote about my decline in thanksgiving; that it takes a month, so it’s been said, for an action to become a habit.  This past year was supposed to be filled with new habits:  cooking, practicing my baby grand, exercise routine, and a solid start on my scrapbooking.

Mmmmm! Dumplings

Do you see those delicious dumplings?  They were very delicious… but also one of the very few things I have cooked this year.

Not only do I look like Mom, I make a flour mess like she did. And they live on through us!

Jeez, I can’t believe there was a shooting at the courthouse today!

Do you see these rolls of fat?  Oh, yeah, I lost that picture.  Somehow it just didn’t make it onto the blog.  But they are there, rolling and sagging and jiggling and in general enjoying the non-exercise routine.  They resemble the dumplings above, only not as pretty.

You’ve seen my baby grand (if you’ve read any of my blog) and you notice I am not sitting at it in any of those photos.  I began playing every day when I first got it, and then…

Let’s see.  Now, what was I talking about?  Oh, yeah.  Scrapbooks.

The scrapbooking mess is not allowed to be seen by anyone at the moment.  Apparently even me.

Where is my Carmex?  My lips are so dry in this disgusting, nasty, rainy weather.

So I have already broken habits that I haven’t even made.  How can that be?  I am normally so together.  Okay.  Maybe not so together but for sure thinking about being so together.  Somewhere in those jumbled thoughts of mine I know an organized, so-together person is living who can cook great meals and play the piano like a real piano player and finish fantastic scrapbooks and is lean and trim, albeit still saggy.  That’s just a given at this station in the life cycle.

Thank goodness the month of thanksgiving is almost over.  I am worn out from the effort at making these new habits; there was just no energy left to apply toward making the thankful habit.   Come to think of it… I don’t know why I should be so tired.  It was so easy breaking the half-baked (I did cook!) habits.

Duuuuck! Cheeeese!

Think I’ll just continue on with the one habit I’m pretty sure I succeeded in making and not breaking:  taking pics of the girls in their towel.

What’s the Deal with Dr. Phil?

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hot sauce mother

Jessica Beagley appears in court during her trial in Anchorage. Photo: AP

So the mom that wanted to be on the Dr. Phil show sits before a jury and is subsequently convicted of abusing her son.  As she should be.  I think part of her punishment should be a mouth full of the hottest peppers they can find for her yelling at a seven-year old the way she did.  Did I misunderstand?  This was all about pencils at school?  If it was that bad, where was the principal?  Why didn’t he step in and mete out some sort of disciplinary measure?  Perhaps writing sentences with a pencil  maybe?  We used to have to do that in school.  I can remember writing lines, and I hated doing it!

And then there’s good ol’ Dr. Phil.  Just trying his best to help out the world… by having them abuse their children on video and then making a big profit from it.  How is that different than the people who make child porn?  The child is still being severely abused, physically and psychologically.  And the good (ahem) doctor thinks he’s going to “cure” these abusers and the poor children they are abusing by exploiting them for his gain?

Where is America’s outrage at Dr. Phil?  I see it at the mother.  Thank goodness we didn’t wait until this little child became another Caylee Anthony or the mother would have been acquitted.  It seems as though America has become so indoctrinated to political correctness or inundated with crime sitcoms or increasingly stupid that they can’t see guilt when it’s sitting in front of their nose.  Circumstantial evidence?  It’s all circumstantial evidence unless there’s something like a video of a mom pouring hot sauce in her seven-year-old child’s mouth and screaming in his face.  That doesn’t happen very often.

Maybe if Dr. Phil would start a program called “Murdering Moms” we would have had little Caylee’s horrible death on video as well.  As it is, we only have all the other evidence.  And personally, the fact that her mother didn’t even report her missing for a whole month but partied it up instead is enough to find her guilty.  There are a lot of people convicted of killing someone that didn’t pull the trigger, but because they were a party to it, they are just as guilty.  It doesn’t matter that we don’t know who did it; it’s beyond a reasonable doubt.  And I reasonably doubt that little Caylee’s mom didn’t have anything to do with her death.  Guilty.

Dr. Phil

I am here to tell you that Dr. Phil is guilty, too.  Just about as guilty, and maybe even more so, than the people he is encouraging to abuse their children for his financial gain.  It makes me sick.

Why isn’t Nancy Grace all over this?  Why hasn’t America called for Dr. Phil to be called out and put on the stand before a jury for possessing child abuse videos?  And making them!

Where is our outrage at things that matter?

I am outraged.

Ah the Breeze of Relief

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Several years ago I wrote a poem on a hot, sticky, summer night.  As I sat on the small, screened-in porch, the cool wind began to blow, just as it has done today, and I penned these thoughts.

THE BREEZE by Brenda Byasse

Oh, there it comes!
I feel it now.
I can even smell the changes it has wrought.
From the heated, sticky heaviness
To the first whisper of relief,
I feel it now.
And the coolness it has brought.

The trees begin their dancing,
The bushes jump around;
The leaves can’t help but falling
Laughing to the ground.
As I myself am giddy
From earth’s long-awaited breath,
I rejoice with all creation:
Joy flows from my soul’s depth.

It speaks as it caresses,
My legs, my hair, my face,
And brings with it the treasure
From a cooler, distant place.

I feel it now.

My Rainbow Day

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Today was a rainbow day.  One of those days where the future looks good; the rain has gone and the promise has come, spreading joy across the sky.

Kate posing with her rainbow painting she painted on the screened-in porch

Kate wanted to paint because her Uncle Nate and I were painting the kitchen, so I mixed her up some red, green, blue, and yellow paint (made with water and a little food coloring) and gave her a paint brush.  She painted away for quite awhile, and then very excitedly ran to the kitchen door to tell me to come look what she had painted.  It was a rainbow.  A rainbow that brought a promise of happy things for my little granddaughter: a sound mind, a curiosity that will lead her to a fulfilling career, an excitement for creating, a joy that comes from God.

Her next job was photographing various objects around the house.  She’s very careful with my good camera (although I do keep saying things, like, “Be careful with my camera.”)  She had me as a photography assistant as she was doing the photo shot of her Barbie bike.  My job was to follow orders and move the handle bars just so-so in order for her to get a good shot.

the bell on her Barbie bike

the wheel of her Barbie bike

There were several close-up shots of the Barbie bike bell.  I am going to have to get a video camera in order to get her doing all this stuff.  It is just so funny.  She will take a picture, look at it on the camera, and say, “That was a good one.”

Nate and I could see the flash going off like crazy in the living room, just one after another.  I couldn’t imagine what she was photographing!  It was a big mess in there with everything from the kitchen in the living room.  Kate’s photo shoot was filled with things that caught her interest, things that she liked.  She would place them just the way she wanted them, and snap photos.  It turns out there was a whole series of my antique dishes in the chiffarobe my brother had altered into a glass-doored cabinet.

she took a picture of every shelf on each side! she loves those dishes!

Kate has a lot of her Greatgreataunt Gladys and Gigi in her. She loves fake flowers. I can envision her yard full of them now.

Kate loves jewels.  She can find them among the rocks at school.  And she finds them all over the place at my house.  Not real jewels, of course, but nevertheless, to her adventurous, imaginative little self those fake flowers, my oh-so-neat dishes and little tea spoons, her toys, my ink pens are all jewels to her.  And she is my jewel.

Kate's close-up of her jewel. She adores jewels and is always on the look-out for them.

We yelled at her to come and take our picture.

Nate getting photographed

Nate and me

There were other reasons this was a rainbow day.  Church was good; the dinner at church was delicious; getting my kitchen ready for the new flooring and appliances tomorrow was satisfying; and spending time with my son doing something constructive, with pleasant conversation, having a normal day was just rainbow.  I’ve been cheated out of those days; days that I will never get back and harbor resentment in my heart and soul that they are lost to me.  (That’s another story for another day.)

But on this rainbow day, I will rejoice in those everyday, humdrum things that people take for granted: spending a day with a child and/or grandchild, working, talking, laughing.

Encompassing my Essence

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The apron that totally describes who I am!

My good friend, Dolores, came by one evening awhile back, quite awhile by now, and brought me this oh-so-cool apron to celebrate my blog.  I have been wanting to put it on here for ages, but for some reason didn’t. (who knows with me?)

So today I took some close-up shots of all the stickers that most aptly describe me to a T!

my favorite Scripture

I can’t tell you how many times God has lifted me up to soar above the storm that surrounded me.  I would show you my eagle, but my sis would frown at me showing, literally, my a** once again.

playing piano, singing, listening...

I love music.  It soothes my soul or peps me up to a good mood; it gives me joy to see others learning how to play or stepping out to sing at church; and, of course, I can’t dance without it.

I love summer!!! I love chatting!!!

These aren’t my best photo shots, but was trying to get close, in a hurried sort of way.  Never pays to hurry: the story of my life.  How does the time get away from me like that?  And why do I feel I always need to rush, rush, rush?  “I’m not ready!”

happy mood? sad mood?

We have a lot of issues in my family, so sometimes we have a lot of heartache.  Some days we just smile and act like everything is fine.  And some days, well, everything is fine.  What a great day!  Those are the days we cherish… and try to remember on the “other” days.

children, sisters, brother, cousins, nephews, nieces, the greats, friend family, church family

One of my very favorite things:  people.  I collect them, much to my sister’s chagrin. (look that up, girlie)  She gives me specific orders NOT to talk to anyone when we go shopping.  She has finally got me trained because I don’t remember her saying that in a while.  Now, she is the Chatty Cathy (do you remember her?) and meets all kinds of people she knows.  It’s the same with my sister-in-law, Annie.  I feel like I’m with a celebrity when I’m with her because everybody, and I mean everybody, knows her and gushes all over her and wants her attention and talks to her.  While I stand there invisible.  It’s tough.  But…

yellow circle tag! I'm almost there!

I am a celebrity in training!  “Well, isn’t that special?”  Yeah, baby, I have a blog!  Woohoo, watch out world.  Okay, okay.  So only a handful of people actually read it and less than a thimble full comment, I still have it!

I’m not quite sure what that little green thing means.  Surely, it does not mean those nasty, littlebig, ugly words that I neverever-almost neverever-wellmaybesometimes-okayonoccasion-everyday say!!

novice photographer that needs to take some lessons

Pictures are just so cool.  And since I want to be cool, I take pictures.  On occasion I even take a good one.

Thank you, my friend, for such a gift of the heart.  To know that you pay attention to someone, me in particular, enough to know the essence of who that person is brings joy to my heart.

Piano Lessons

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Since I was out in the backyard digging in the flower bed (digging up sunflower seedlings), I almost missed my piano student.  I thought it was five… it was six.  This daylight savings time makes me lose track of the time.

Right now I am up to four students!!  Yippee!  I love it.

piano student

It’s so much fun to watch it come together as they learn to play.  And the books now are great; gets them moving on the piano with both hands right away.

My mom started me taking piano lessons when I was seven or eight.  Mrs. Jennings from Junction gave me lessons every Saturday.  When Darla started taking lessons — (Dar, tell that story) —

weird Japanese stuff

I would get to watch TV during her lesson.  There was always one of those weird Saturday movies on, a Japanese movie with dubbed in English, black and white, something like that.  They were great!

Mom made me practice maybe not every day, but often.  She wanted me to play piano at church, and when I was around 12, she got her wish.  It may have been with one finger a lot of times, but I began playing around then.  And so did Vickie Jerrells (now Vickery).  Vickie plays the organ (the best I’ve ever heard) and I play the piano.  We have played together at church for many, many years now with some intermittent times of playing with other people.

wish we had one of these at church

ours isn't quite this big

I can see us still playing when we are very old, our hands all gnarled with arthritis, pounding away because we can’t hear, with sour looks on our faces because… well, we’re all old and gnarly.  That’s enough reason to look sour!

♪♪♪ I’m so excited! I just can’t hide it! ♪♪♪

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Dudes and dudettes!  April the 1st, April Fool’s Day, is one day away.  That’s the day I announce the winner of the Give-Away!  Get your name in there!  Click on the pic!

I’ve been going through my refrigerator and have found several worthy items that could be added to the mix:  half a bottle of wine; a couple of on-the-edge-of-their-due-date Activia (very good for your digestion), a bag of frozen chocolate chip cookie dough already made into individual cookielets for your baking ease; something that looks very similar to jelly (it’s in a jar); and I’ll even throw in one of my prized jars of maraschino cherries!  Everyone that knows me, knows how I love to collect jars of maraschino cherries (although I haven’t bought any in a while).

And as if that isn’t enough to entice you, I will add to the mix some of my lovely artificial flowers for “planting” in your yard.  No watering!  Most of them look very real.  Proof in point:  my daughter who occasionally will razz me about my fake yard flowers was over here one summer day looking at all the plants and flowers in the back yard.  As she wandered around looking, she would bend down to sniff them.  One particularly lovely yellow rose was sniffed several times before she turned around and exclaimed, “That’s fake!”

Then there was my friend, Cheryl, who stopped her car on the road in front of the house one day to admire my beautiful flowers out there in the flower bed.  I said, “Get out and come look at them.” (Laughing my buhiney off the whole time.)  She got out of the car and was oohing and aahing over them until I said, “They’re fake.”  “What?!“ When she came over to water my many plants one summer week while I was gone on vacation, she also watered the fakies.  Even after knowing about the oh-so-real fake ones.  I’m telling you, they look better that fake hoohas.

The family tells me my Great-aunt Gladys used to put fake flowers in her yard all the time.  They also tell me, “You’re just like your Aunt Gladys.”

Aunt Gladys had Alzheimer’s.

A Time for Everything… And It’s Not Now

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The harsh reality is I am a dork.  Wikipedia describes it as “USA pejorative slang for a quirky, silly and/or stupid, socially inept person, or one who is out of touch with contemporary trends. Often confused with nerd and geek, but does not imply the same level of intelligence.”  Although I like the description in Urban Dictionary better: “Someone who has odd interests, and is often silly at times. A dork is also someone who can be themselves and not care what anyone thinks. ”  I have also found out in my dork research that it also means “Vulgar slang for penis.”  I am so excited!  A new word to use that most people won’t know what it means whenever I yell at them, “Hey, you dork!”  teehee teehee

See what I mean?  I am such a dork.  For instance, about a month ago I decided to get all my beautiful plants from last summer (that I store in the garage during the winter months) out for a nice drink of rain since the weather was warm and rain was on the way.  I had Brandon come over and help me move them outside, fully intending to move them back in a week.  “Now, where did that week go?”  So, of course, my plants were left out longer, through a frost, and here they are today.

my poor, poor plant

boo hoo hoo hoo

Why, you ask, would anyone not pay attention to the weather and get on the stick (pun intended) to get this done?  Because that person is a dork.  One who goes through life thinking there is always at least an extra hour in the minute or an extra week in the day.  (One of the reasons I’m always late.)  Then, when the realization hits me that, no, a minute is truly that, a mere minute, I must then rush to make up for the time I don’t have that I thought I did.  Are you getting that?

Here are the beauties in their heyday.

so beautiful

This year I am trying to accomplish goals, work, “things” in a timely manner.  I have failed miserably.  But tomorrow is another day.

Which means I will be back at work.  I can’t wait to ask my guy friends, “So, how’s the dork?” teehee teehee

I just realized… if I were a guy, I would be a double dork.

I think I need Dorks Anonymous.  We’d all tell our names, ages, ranks, addresses, SS numbers…