Day Twenty-Two -- Japanese CUTE!

It all started simply enough. I bought an Aranzi Aronzo book because the little characters were so CUTE! It progressed to another book, actually called "THE CUTE BOOK". Yes, there was no mistake with that title as to what the book would entail.
It was so CUTE and my daughter and I began crafting the little felt animals in the book.
Then we went to San Francisco and to a Japanese bookstore and my obsession grew. So many CUTE craft magazines to choose from. And CUTE books too! I could have spent hours browsing there.

I loved these craft books and magazines so much that my daughter brought me home a few from Japan the next summer.

Who wouldn't love all this Japanese cuteness? Certainly not I.

They even have instructions on how to make my favorite graphic image, polka dots! I can learn to crochet or knit polka dots! Maybe there are instructions for making polka dots in American crochet and knitting books too, but of course the Japanese would have them. The Japanese have made a culture of all things cute.
There is even a Wikipedia article on this. "As a cultural phenomenon, cuteness is increasingly accepted in Japan as a part of Japanese Culture and national identity. Tomoyuki Sugiyama, author of "Cool Japan", believes that "cuteness" is rooted in Japan's harmony-loving culture, and Nobuyoshi Kurita, a sociology professor in Tokyo, has stated that "cute" is a "magic term" that encompasses everything that's acceptable and desirable in Japan."
I like all of this Japanese cute stuff, crafts, sewing, needlework, magazines and books. Somehow the Japanese make it all look clean and precise, not only the projects but also the photography. Their style is totally different from styles in other countries. Their fabrics have always been unique and the cotton fabrics that are current in Japan have a look unlike any other fabric, tiny details, clean graphics, candy for the eyes.
The only problem for me is shown below.
It's difficult for a non-Japanese speaker to follow Japanese directions. It doesn't really matter as I'm not fooling anyone into thinking I'd ever get around to making many of these crafts but it's nice to see that the cute factor has caught on in the U.S. because I'm noticing some of these books now have an English version.

I don't buy much online but in finding these photos I realized I'd buy from one CUTE Japanese site only because they have this logo for their shopping cart.I'm a fool for cute.

Day Twenty-One -- Quirkitude

It must be I've never totally grown up as I'm continually attracted to quirky items. Cute, funky, strange, whatever. No Williams-Sonoma classic measuring spoons for me, I would much rather buy something like the monkey measuring spoons and my spoon rest isn't classic either, I bought it because it made me smile, especially the baby spoon tucked next to the mommy spoon. I love it every time I look at it.




I even like cute food like the peas shown below. I could never eat them though. I had a hard enough time eating the chocolate bunnies at Easter though my love of chocolate always won out over my thoughts of cannibalism.
Looking at cute food is fun so here's an article on the artistic chef who created the peas:

http://www.thesun.co.uk/sol/homepage/news/article549818.ece

And say hello to the "Old Biddy" mug, my latest quirky find at the thrift store last month. She even has her original, 1950's tag (or maybe she's from the 40's, it doesn't really matter) that says "Old Biddy". She called to me and I went running over to claim her. $3 well spent because she makes me happy when I see her.

I doubt I'll ever completely grow up, but who really cares? Not me.

Day Twenty -- Made in the USA

Is anything made in the USA anymore? . I see Made in China, Made in Taiwan, Made in Malaysia, Made in Mexico or Made in India on most items these days. It wasn't until buying a vintage item at the thrift store and seeing the stamp "Made in the USA" on the bottom of the piece that I realized I rarely see that on anything anymore. And I miss seeing that.

Unfortunately, we have outsourced everything from All-American Levis to All-American Ford automobiles to other countries. USA made items have become a dying breed

Here's a site that does list items still made in the USA, I just wish the listings were larger.

Day Nineteen -- Piano

I have a piano. I can play the piano. I took lessons from age 8 until age 16 or 17. That's a lot of years, but the piano sits unused. I look at it, I think about it but I rarely touch it unless it's to dust. Yeah, one key is broken and it's not been tuned in years but that is easily fixed. So why don't I play the thing, bang around on it, hammer out notes or something? I'm slowly figuring that out.

Years ago I took a test based on Howard Gardner's multiple intelligences and I scored highest on musical intelligence. What a shock. But not really. I know I learn well via music and know I understand a lot about music. I think my blockage comes from the fact I have two brothers who are both extremely musical. Both play with symphonies, one in Dallas, one in Oklahoma City. Both have college degrees in music.

I never consciously thought about it until recently but I realize I quit playing because my brothers were both so involved with music and I needed to have my own "thing", something different from what they did and they both did it well. I believe I didn't want to be compared and found lacking. And truthfully, I never had their skill and it was unacceptable to me to not be as good. I guess I had a little perfectionistic and competitive streak in me. So I quit and never looked back until now. I should be over that now shouldn't I?

I think I might just take some piano lessons.

Day Eighteen -- The Moon

What is there to say about the fact that I like the moon? It's changeable yet predictable, kind of like me. It's perfect. I'm not. I like it, it's always just right.

Day Seventeen -- Knitting

My friend, Vivien taught me taught me to knit today. I think I'm going to like it.

Day Sixteen -- Pilgrimage

Years ago I read a book by Shirley MacClaine called "The Camino A Journey of the Spirit". It was about a pilgrimage she took in her 60's to a cathedral in Spain, the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela. I had a friend ask me a couple years ago if I'd like to do this with her. I think it's something that I would love to do. We have no definite plans but I'm holding it in the back of my mind and thinking my husband might also enjoy this. Here is an excerpt from the book:

There is a famous pilgrimage that has been taken by people for centuries. It is called the Santiago de Compostela Camino across northern Spain. It is said the Camino lies directly under the Milky Way and follows the ley lines that reflect the energy from those star systems above it. The Santiago Camino has been traversed for thousands of years by saints, sinners, generals, misfits, kings and queens. It is done with the intent to find one's deepest spiritual meaning and resolutions regarding conflicts in Self... On my journey westward along the Camino I felt I was traveling backward in time to a place that began the experience that made me and the human race what we have become today.
From Wikipedia: The Way of St. James

Day Fifteen -- Vintage Photos

I recently saw some long lost photos of D-Day and they were so emotional it was hard to look at them. Pictures really are worth a thousand words.

I've been collecting vintage photos. I don't really have a favorite time period though it's funny to realize my childhood photos are actually vintage. It's fun to see the people but also fun to see what surrounds the people such as the photo below:

I wonder what happened to the children in this photo. Were they sisters? Neighbors? Best friends? Did they grow up, marry, have children of their own? Did they save those dolls to pass onto their own children?

And what is the story of the people above? It's nice that this photo has writing and to know this was taken in San Francisco. But I wonder about the Chinese man and the white lady. They don't really look like they know each other or that they even want to know each other. What is their story? And what the heck is she wearing? Why was this photo taken? A tourist posing with an actual "Chinaman"?
I think the child above is a girl, mainly due to her shoes and the little bit of hair I can see. It must have been Halloween, duh. I'm puzzled about what that mask is all about. But I like seeing the All-American neighborhood in the background. Where is it? There are too many questions with all these photos and no answers.

One thing I've learned in looking at these is it's important to label all photos. We think we'll remember who everyone is and where they are and what the date is, but in reality, memories fade and the people who knew the answers die and the surviving photos become mysteries.

My parents are gone but their photos survive. I don't know the stories behind each photo and it makes me sad. But I still love looking and knowing that every person who is now gone had a life that was meaningful, had people who loved them and thought they were the most important person in the world. Even if the photos become mysterious with the passage of time, there was a reason they were on earth even if I will never know exactly why.

Day Fourteen -- Mountains

Anyone who has flown into Phoenix would recognize the mountain in the photo above as Camelback Mountain. My childhood was spent with this mountain as a backdrop from my family's kitchen windows. It's one of the most famous landmarks in the Phoenix area and was the reason I knew which way was north. It was a great reference point.

I lived in Tennessee for a while and I really missed the mountains. Tennessee had many wonderful things that I still miss to this day including change of seasons, autumn leaves, greenery, lots of rain and more. But, the biggest sweeping vistas in Nashville were the tops of the trees.
Now I live in Tucson and the photo above and below are views of the Santa Catalina Mountains. I think Tucson has some of the most beautiful mountain scenery anywhere and I would miss it very much if I were to move. I think of the mountains as the backdrop of the stage where my life plays out.

Not a day goes by that I don't see these mountains and interpret the mood of the day from them. Bright, clear, not-a-cloud-in-the-sky days I hate. The unrelenting sunshine can be as depressing as always being under grey skies and the mountains fade to a very dull color with no shadows to highlight their shape.

And despite my constant whining each summer about the heat, the monsoon rains and the mountain's differing personalities make me happy to live here.
My favorite time of year for a happy mountain mood is the summer when the monsoon clouds blow in and the mountain is sculpted by the shadows of those clouds on the rocks. The sun isn't as blazing hot, the temperatures cool off, winds bring strong breezes and the smell of rain is in the air. The mountains add a lot of drama to this area and their beauty makes Arizona a wonderful place to live.

Day Thirteen -- My husband

I'm a little annoyed with myself that I waited this long to write about one of the best 100 things in my life, my husband. I would be nothing without him. I suppose that is rather dramatic so let me rephrase it by saying being married to him has brought me joy, purpose and one of life's greatest gifts, our children.

There are so many superlatives I could use to describe him. He is hard-working, intelligent, kind hearted, and best of all, he loves me despite my many, many faults. And he puts up with me. And encourages me. He is my best friend and I always feel safe next to him. Unless of course, he's driving 50 in the fast lane on the interstate. Little joke there.

After the birth of our son, the gynecologist told me his office had voted him "best dad". And he was. He went to every appointment with me and his kind and caring concern for me was palpable. And he has continued in that manner ever since. I breast fed both kids and one friend told me that he was so nurturing with the baby that it was too bad he couldn't breast feed too. A little weird, but I understood the compliment.

When babies needed to be fed in the middle of the night, he'd get up and bring them to me. He said he liked being part of the food chain :-) He changed diapers, bathed them and tried always to manage his schedule so we didn't need babysitters. If I wasn't there, he was. He helped in the classroom of both kids from their preschool days forward. He's driven thousands of miles toting kids back and forth, he's attended every birthday party and every school function. I'm not kidding, EVERY school function from the Christmas pageants to Taekwondo tournaments and orchestra recitals. He was a down-on-the-floor, hands-on dad for good times and bad. To this day, he hugs and kisses the kids, tells them he loves them and he is there for whatever they need or just to listen. He's a dad hero wrapping both kids in a blanket of love.

And looking back, now that my parents are gone, I am so thankful he loved my parents. My mother was always loveable but even when my dad became a bit less loveable with dementia, he never faltered in his support of him. One of the last things he did for my dad was take him to the grocery store. And he did it on his own, just the two guys on a shopping trip. My dad always loved the grocery store and he loved candy. He let my dad fill up a bag with candy and bought it for him. My dad toted that bag around with him like it was full of money. My husband has told me many times how wonderful my parents were and how grateful he was to have them as in-laws. And the feeling was shared by them. My parents thought my decision to marry him was the best decision I ever made. And they were right.

Not only has he always been there for the kids, but he is always there for me too. Flat tire, locked out of the house? He's there to fix it all. He spoils me and treats me with love and respect. 25 years of love and respect. I think the true measure of a man is not his occupation, nor the amount of money he makes. Men tend to measure themselves by society's yardstick. A successful man isn't successful because he has a good job. He is successful when he stands by his family, does his best by them, and loves them in good times and bad. I have a very successful husband and God has truly blessed me.

Day Twelve -- I like listening, people hate my advice...

The above title is rather awkward but the first part, listening, is something I love. I like when people trust me enough to share their thoughts and personal stories. I must look non-threatening or give off some aura of trustworthiness because I find myself talking to people I don't know very well and finding out detailed and interesting things about them. I love to hear what people have to say and to find out what life has taught them, where they've been and where they are headed. My friend, Laurel, told me recently that she learned more about a friend of hers while listening to me talk to her for 30 minutes than she had learned in five years of their friendship. I hope that doesn't mean I'm nosy. Who was that nosy neighbor lady on Bewitched? Gladys Kravitz? No, I'm not like her.

A few months back, when I was buying books on death and dying, I asked the clerk at the bookstore to show me where they were. He stood and talked with me while I looked through the shelf and told me about the murder of his girlfriend and his brother. I was interested and asked questions and I like to think it was cathartic for him as he started crying and thanked me for listening. I wasn't embarassed and neither was he. He was still in great pain and had a lot of residual anger which was understandable. Sometimes people just need someone, anyone, to listen and I like playing that role. Whenever I'm at that bookstore now, he smiles and waves. I made a friend though he doesn't know my name and I don't know his.

My problem comes when listening to my kids. Then I want to give advice. And nobody wants unasked for advice, especially young adults. I don't give advice to strangers but when it comes to my kids it must be due to being a mother and having helped them through all kinds of problems through the years. It's hard to turn off the advice machine and just listen. Supposedly the first step is in recognizing and then admitting the problem. Now if I can just listen and not say anything until asked, I think the atmosphere will be more peaceful when I feel the urge to spill my pearls of wisdom upon them. It's hard to stuff a sock in it but I'm trying. I always say I'm still a work in progress.

Day Eleven -- Astrology

I hesitate to put astrology on my list of 100 things because I am ambivalent about how I feel about it. Do I think it has merit? Yes. Do I understand it completely? No. Do I want to understand more? Not sure. I'm fascinated with it but at the same time it scares me. And part of the reason it scares me is I don't understand it completely. And partial understanding leads to misunderstanding but complete understanding can lead to knowing too much that I think could be better left alone.

For instance, in looking at my daughter's solar return chart this year, I could see my mother's death. I've been prepared for her death for quite a few years so it wasn't the shock I might have felt at seeing my own death. My husband has said astrology is like the above drawing, and calls it "peeking behind the veil." I agree. Why can't I be patient and let things unfold naturally? Does it make me feel better to possibly have an idea of what might happen in the future? No, it only makes me obsess. In order to feel in control, some people like to know what's coming down the pike. It only makes me feel less in control.

With all that said, I still find it an interesting subject and started exploring it last year as I felt I needed to start exercising my brain a bit more. I could have chosen Sudoku or crossword puzzles or any number of subjects I know nothing about, but no, I chose astrology. And it truly is a good brain exercise remembering signs, degrees, aspects, and putting disparate pieces together like a jigsaw puzzle and coming to a clear picture that had been fuzzy. There is always a little sense of accomplishment and delight when I make a discovery like finding my husband has Neptune in Scorpio in his 2nd house of money. Neptune represents drugs, Scorpio represents research and that is how he makes his money, via drug research. And the fact that Scorpio is on my 7th house of marriage makes sense too as it shows the type of person I'm likely to marry-- a researcher.

Still, as the Bible says, on earth we can only see through a glass darkly. No clear picture of what is in store for us can ever be had by mere mortals. Doesn't matter what tool we use to divine the future, the only time things will be completely understood is after we die. At least, that's what I believe.

And then there is the conundrum of "what exactly does the Bible say about astrology, divination, prophets?" I've read a lot and am still confused. Sometimes it sounds like the Bible has good things to say, other times it sounds completely forbidden. For me it comes down to the belief that no one but God can know exactly what his plans are for each human. Knowing the future is not going to save us, only God can do that.

I feel a real push-pull about being drawn to astrology and for now am satisfying that interest with looking at charts and rather than figuring out the future, I figure out the personality. Sun trine Jupiter in your chart? The short interpretation is you are likely to be lucky. Venus conjunct Saturn? You are likely to be very loyal in love, friendships might be few but with considerable depth. Personality aspects are interesting and fun, like a parlor game. And for me, prediciting the future would be interesting too if all I saw were wonderful things ahead or if I looked only at charts of people I don't know. It's too personal and scary to look ahead in charts of people close to me.

So instead of loved ones, I decided to concentrate on the U.S. natal chart. Yes, countries have a place and time of birth also. Let me just say, which isn't exactly saying much, that we are looking towards some difficult and changing times ahead. I am very interested in the end of July, only 9 or 10 days away when some extreme aspects that haven't been seen since the 1930's will be exact. Time will tell, it always does, and I know time knows much more than I ever will about the future.

Day Ten -- Nearing Death Awareness

I was reading this book the week my mother died. I wasn't expecting her death, as physically she seemed healthy but mentally, dementia had taken a very severe toll. She rarely knew who I was when I visited and to pass the time I would just talk and hold her hand. I'd tell her family news mostly, not really knowing if she understood who or even what I was talking about.

Though she didn't seem to know me, on several separate occasions I would mention my daughter's name and her face would light up. One time she became so excited thinking that my daughter was about to visit, she insisted I go out to the car and bring her in. Sadly, my daughter wasn't with me on that visit. Her reaction was so unusual that I remarked about it each time it happened. She never had this reaction with any other name.

So back to the book. The author is a hospice nurse and coined a term "nearing death awareness"(NDA) which is a separate phenomena from a "near death experience"(NDE).

From an interview with the author, Maggie Callahan:
"In the book I offer a comparison of the NDE and NDA because they are first cousins. An NDE is a sudden, unexpected event in which a person is clinically dead and therefore unable to communicate and only talks about the experience after the fact – and only if they trust the people."

" The most profound difference between Nearing Death Awareness and an NDE is that the patients are talking while the experience is actually happening. If you’re astute and not too quick to label it something like confusion in order to make yourself comfortable, you are afforded an opportunity to enter the dialogue and enter the landscape, which is mind-blowing".

"There are two categories: what I am experiencing and the second, what I need to get on to a peaceful death. The first category of what I am experiencing is the answer to what does it feel like to die. It’s very common for our dying patients to tell us they’re in the presence of someone we cannot see, someone not alive. It’s usually a family member who has predeceased them."

My daughter was home for Spring Break and we decided to visit Grandma. I had seen my mother 2 weeks previous and she had been in a good humor, not making sense but smiling and eating and trying to talk. But the day we visited, things were different. My mother was very agitated, would not eat, she was extremely restless and wouldn't open her eyes. She was moaning and babbling. I sat and held her hand, doing the usual stupid loud talk as if she couldn't hear, telling her who we were and asking her to look at us but she wouldn't open her eyes or stop talking. I couldn't understand her.

My daughter told me to move and she took her Grandmother's hand and patiently told her in a soft voice who she was and that she loved her. She listened very intently while I talked to the caregiver. She finally told me to be quieter as she couldn't hear what Grandma was saying.

I kept saying what a shame it was that she was so anxious and confused that day and how much happier she had been 2 weeks before. We stayed about 45 minutes and, when I noticed my daughter crying, I decided it was time to go. We kissed her, told her we loved her and left.

It wasn't until we were driving away that my daughter told me "Grandma was in there Mom! She knew we were there. Every time I told her who I was she squeezed my hand, every time I told her I loved her she squeezed it again. And she was talking about seeing angels and celestial beings and about how she was afraid to take the next step and go to the next plane."

What??? I stopped the car and looked at her and told her about the book I'd been reading. I told her it sounded like Nearing Death Awareness where people see long lost loved ones or angels. But denial took hold. Grandma was healthy, she wasn't going to die soon, no we didn't need to go back. What a fool I was. 48 hours later she died.

My daughter taught me a lesson, one I will never forget. I was a nurse for many years yet she taught me more about love and patience than I ever learned on my own taking care of hundreds of patients. Her quiet gentleness, intelligence and intuitiveness have always been her greatest gifts and she used them that day. My mother still had the need to be heard and it would have been a tragedy if my daughter had not had the patience to quietly sit and listen to her. I am now forever certain there is another life beyond the one we live here on earth. My mother was halfway there, about to step over the threshold and I believe she was waiting for my daughter to be there to have the courage to go. Thanks Maggie, I love you.

Day Nine -- Lighting Candles

I am not Catholic but I think their tradition of lighting candles and praying is beautiful and comforting. My favorite place to visit to light a candle is San Xavier del Bac, The White Dove of the Desert here in Tucson.
My family and I have visited there throughout the years to light candles and offer prayers for loved ones we have lost, those going through ill health and prayers for safety when traveling among other things.

The practice of lighting candles in order to obtain some favor probably has its origins in the custom of burning lights at the tombs of the martyrs in the catacombs. The lights burned as a sign of solidarity with Christians still on earth. Because the lights continually burned as a silent vigil, they became known as vigil lights.

Knowing that the candle burns long after the prayers have been sent is one reason I find the custom so comforting. And though there is nothing like the atmosphere of a dimly lit church, the smell of candle wax and the softly lit glow of a bank of candles, I am happy to see that the internet age has brought candle lighting to cyberspace. Light a Candle

Day Eight -- Cemeteries

I love cemeteries, the older the better. Not that I spend much time in any cemetery, in fact I can't even remember the last time I visited one. When I was about 12 I visited my aunt in Illinois and the small town had a cemetery with graves dating to the 1700's. I could have spent my entire trip in that cemetery. The history fascinated me and I couldn't get enough of exploring the place and reading the inscriptions on the headstones.

I suppose the headstones are the most fascinating part of a cemetery, at least to me. I really don't like the newer cemeteries with markers on the ground. A nice old headstone, preferably with some pictorial engraving, like the one below, attract me. I wonder about the life of the person buried beneath the headstone, who they loved and who loved them in return. Was it a hard life or a charmed life? Did they have children and if so what became of them? The most touching are the graves of babies with headstones inscribed "six days old" or even a small grave next to the larger mother's grave, someone who died in childbirth. Sometimes the baby is buried with the mother.

I highly recommend this book I bought a few years back in the bargain section at Barnes and Noble:
Stories in Stone .

Day Seven -- Rain on a metal roof

Right now it's about 105 degrees in Arizona and we've only had one measly rainfall this summer. It's ugly hot. When my thoughts turn to rain, they also turn to my childhood summers spent at the cabin above. The cabin has a metal roof and as kids we always wondered if it would rain when we visited and prayed it would. Being raised in Phoenix, rain was a scarce and welcome commodity. There aren't many better sounds to me than the sound of rain on a metal roof, a cheap, small blessing and one of my favorite yet simplest childhood memories.

Day Six -- My kids

This is the most recent photo of my kids together taken a couple weeks ago when my daughter was home for a week of summer break. She's now back at school for summer quarter. It was a hot summer day and we'd gone out to eat and both were doodling at Macaroni Grill with crayons and paper.

They are grown and gone most of the year but are never far from my thoughts and I realized at that lunch that there is no one I would rather spend time with than them. They have been the greatest learning experience of my life and I found a quote the other day that perfectly sums that up: "While we try to teach our children all about life, our children teach us what life is all about." Love is the best that life offers us and nothing beats the love and admiration I have for my children.

Day Five -- Beach Glass

I love beach glass. I love the colors and my favorite is aqua. I love the smoothness of pieces well-worn from tossing around in the ocean and I love that something that can be considered litter or trash has been made into a beautiful little treasure waiting for me to find it in the sand.

Wikipedia has a good article that will explain more about it than what I know. All I know is I think it's beautiful and it makes me happy to find it.

Day Four -- Polka Dots

I think I'm in a polka dot phase at the moment because I'm noticing them everywhere. Maybe I'm looking for cheerful images in a world full of 24 hour news channels with constant scenes of death, destruction and that continual flow of oil. There seems to be nothing I can do about any of it and it's so depressing.

I was watching an old Doris Day movie last night and admiring her outfit, a white suit with a light brown and white polka dot blouse underneath the jacket. 1965, a simpler time. I couldn't help but compare that simpler time with our current world climate and 2010 has been found wanting, at least in my mind.

Polka dots seem happy and comforting at the same time. Polka dots remind me of children, childhood, happy times, little girl dresses with lots of petticoats, parties and laughter. They are the comfort food of graphic design.

The world seems to be a better place with polka dots.. Most likely I watch too much news where everyday seems to bring a new horror but if there are polka dots in the world, then the world must still have plenty of good in it. Right? Things can't possibly be going to hell in a polka dot hand-basket. The two just don't mix.

I bought some polka dot bowls last month. I saw my husband eating a salad from one the other day and it just didn't look right so I made a new rule. The rule is we can only eat happy food from the polka dot bowls. Only ice cream with sprinkles or something equally as unhealthy yet cute and tasty. He rolled his eyes and the thought "empty nest" or "mid-life crisis" probably flitted through his brain. He will no doubt sneak some healthy food into those bowls when our other more conservative dishes are dirty but for now I feel like I have a tiny piece of goodness in my home despite that harsh world out there that I can't control.

Day Three -- Chocolate Cake

Day Three's topic, chocolate cake, was chosen simply because I'm hungry. And I love chocolate cake. And I have decided to eat more of it. So there.

Yep, that's my resolution. Life is too short not to have as much chocolate cake as possible. That said, I can't remember the last time I had a piece mainly because I don't like bakery chocolate cakes. Only homemade will do and I'm pretty lazy in the baking department unless there is some occasion or other.

Happily, I have a wonderful recipe that has stood the test of time. It came from the back of the cocoa can ages ago and it's a really good one that I will share with you. Yum-O as Rachel Ray would say. And I only say it to bug my daughter who is not a Rachel Ray fan.

Deep Dark Chocolate Cake from the Cocoa Can
2 cups sugar
1 3/4 cups flour
3/4 cup cocoa
1 1/2 tsp baking soda
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp salt
2 eggs
1 cup milk
1/2 cup vegetable oil
2 tsp vanilla
1 cup boiling water

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease and flour 2 round or one rectangular pan. In a mixing bowl, combine dry ingredients. Add eggs, milk, oil and vanilla. Beat on medium speed for 2 minutes. Remove from mixer and stir in boiling water (batter will be thin). Pour into pan(s). Bake 30-35 minutes, (40 minutes for rectangular pan) or until toothpick inserted in center comes out clean.

One Bowl Chocolate Buttercream Frosting (from the cocoa can too!)
6 tbs softened butter
Cocoa - 1/3 cup light flavor
1/2 cup medium flavor
3/4 cup dark flavor
2 2/3 cup powdered sugar
1/3 cup milk
1 tsp vanilla

In small mixer bowl, cream butter, add cocoa and sugar alternately with milk. Beat to spreading consistency. Additional milk maybe be needed. Blend in vanilla. Makes 2 cups.

Enjoy! Yum-O!

Day Two -- Veterans

I was going to write that one of my favorite things is older men. Then I thought that sounded a little "iffy" and seems to imply a woman on the lookout for romance which I'm not. Then I thought maybe I should say "elderly men" but I don't like the term "elderly". The word by itself shouldn't imply someone who hasn't much time left or anything left to give but it does have that certain connotation. So I thought I'd simply say I like old men , and I do, but to further categorize "old men" I realized I am most touched by the American WWII Veterans in that category.

Tom Brokaw coined the term "the greatest generation" and the older I get, the more I agree with that description. These were and are men of integrity, those who fought for an ideal and didn't expect fame, recognition or wealth for it. Most grew up during the Great Depression and knew the meaning of sacrifice, knew what it meant to work hard for what they had and didn't expect a handout.

When Ronald Reagan spoke to an audience of world leaders and D-Day veterans in Normandy he said, "These are the boys of Pointe du Hoc. These are the men who took the cliffs. These are the champions who helped free a continent. These are the heroes who helped end a war."

They served proudly, they were patriotic, they were loyal and they continue to inspire despite their dwindling numbers. They protected our country, our values and our ideals and I don't know if we'll ever see their likes again. I admire them and salute them.

Day One -- Antique Samplers

A big love of mine is antique samplers. I don't know what first attracted me to them, probably many things including the history, the handmade crafting of them, the colors, the verses. I never tire of seeing a sampler whether antique or newly designed but the antique ones fulfill something within me and I find them fascinating. So I thought it was appropriate to start Day One of my project with an easy and obvious love of mine. I think they speak for themselves.