Piano Man

We stopped at an old schoolhouse Saturday. This building was solid, made from poured cement. Interior looked pretty sad, but the exterior, other than broken windows, was still in good shape. Jacqui crawled halfway into a basement window to see what was down there. I nearly had heart failure. What if she fell in? Then what would we do? Cell service was poor to nonexistent.

“I see a piano,” she said.

A piano?

“Yes, a broken piano.”

That was interesting.

I have safety rules for junking. Rule No. 1: DO NOT walk down stairs. Who knows what might be in the basement/cellar/crawl space. I might find some dead creature or live ones that I’d prefer not to encounter. And who knows what condition those steps are in? I have no desire to take a bad fall.

But our nightly lows have fallen well below freezing. Snakes and skunks should be hibernating. She shined the flashlight around the room and saw nothing other than broken chairs and plaster. And the rest of building was in amazingly-good condition. Perhaps steps would be safe?

Staircase was partially covered by a wooden door, which looked intact. Steps were covered with fallen plaster, but maybe they were passable. When I pushed up the door, I saw a dead creature on top of it, mostly noticing a set of bared teeth. Jacqui followed me. I told her to push the door tightly against the rail unless she wanted to see the set of teeth.

Piano was in horrible condition. Keyboard was entirely gone. Hammers were broken. Front of piano had disappeared. But it still maintained a certain dignity. Someone had pride in its construction, even the places that would normally be invisible.

Apparently, the local people had used this basement for entertainment. Piano sat on a little platform. Remnants of theater seating were scattered around the rest of room.

I started singing, “…Son, can you play me a memory; I’m not really sure how it goes. But it’s sad and it’s sweet and I knew it complete when I wore a younger man’s clothes … Sing us a song; you’re the Piano Man. Sing us a song tonight! ‘Cause we’re all in the mood for a melody and you’ve got us feeling all right.…”

Singing in that forlorn basement was bittersweet. Acoustics were great, but seeing the remnants of what had been a vibrant community was very sad.

Carrot Spice Cake

Kathy and friend Dallynn get ready to taste a bit of the cake.

Kathy turned 57 Tuesday, so we celebrated with a cookout.

When I think of the number 57, I think of Heinz’s 57 varieties. I suggested that we all give Kathy a bottle of some Heinz product and asked about what cake to make. I inadvertently sent the email to her, too.

She said, “Personally, I prefer 57 on my steak and not on my cake!”

That was the end of making Heinz 57 frosting. Sigh. I still carried out the Heinz 57 idea, though. The cake topper reads “Kathy, est’d 1951: 57 years and in a pickle. Happy birthday!”

Donna suggested I make a carrot or spice cake for Kathy’s cake. So I made a combination:

Carrot Spice Cake

This recipe comes from Kitchen Klatter Cookbook, which is unfortunately now out of print. The batter is very thick, more like brownie batter than cake batter.

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Ingredients:
5 oz. matchstick carrots broken in half, 5 oz. grated baby carrots or 3 large carrots
2/3 C. sugar
2/3 C. Splenda/Alterna
1/3 C. shortening
¼ t. butter flavoring
1 C. raisins
1 t. cinnamon
½ t. nutmeg
½ t. cloves
½ t. salt
1 t. vanilla flavoring
1 1/3 C. cool water
2 C. sifted flour
1/2 t. soda
1 C. chopped nuts

Method:
Combine all ingredients except flour, soda and nuts in saucepan and cook over low heat for 20 minutes. Cool 10-15 minutes and add flour and soda which have been sifted together. Stir in the nuts and pour into 9X13 inch pan which has been greased and floured. Bake for 1 hour in 325º oven.

Top with spicy whipped cream or cream cheese frosting.

New profile picture

Normally, I dislike pictures of myself, but this one is an exception. I usually think that I look stiff or uncomfortable when posing for a picture, but here I actually look like I’m having a good time, which I was.

Marilyn’s cousin took this one of birthday girl Marilyn and me with her camera and another one with mine. I don’t like the one she took with mine. I look stiff, which I guess is better than looking like a stiff. She hit the jackpot with her camera, though.

I also like this picture because we are wearing shirts that our dear friends Kathy and Donna had given us. If I had been more with it, we all four would have been wearing the shirts for a picture, but I forgot to send email asking them to wear theirs. I guess that’s a future project.

So, instead of hiding behind my camera, my features will actually appear in my profile. Amazing.

All worthwhile

We, Marilyn’s friends, schemed for a long time to give her a very memorable milestone birthday. Celebrations Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday, plus a couple extra touches on Monday, have worn me out.

This grin makes it all worth the effort.

Happy Half a Century, Marilyn!

Adventures in camping

We camped at a lake last weekend with people from our church.

We enjoyed a moonlight boat ride, viewing both human and divine pyrotechnics.

Later, those pyrotechnics rolled right over top of us. Camping generally equals rain, so we weren’t surprised.

We were sleeping in the back of our little pickup, which had just enough room between cab and tailgate for us. We watched and listened to the rainstorm, but kept nice and dry in our little overnight home.

We woke up early Saturday morning and took a walk. When we left, the boat was in our cove and the play tent was on the ground.

The boat when we left for walk.
When we returned, the tent had tried to commit suicide and the boat had run away. Maybe boat couldn’t stand the sight of the suicidal tent?

The tent had jumped onto the fire pit, which melted much of its floor. (Well, OK, the same gust of wind that took away the boat probably threw tent into fire.) I grabbed tent and threw it in the lake to halt the burning.

The boat runs away.

Boat Owner Steve came out of his tent camper shortly thereafter to retrieve his boat. He got in an unscheduled early-morning swim to rescue it from drifting.

Steve returns with his boat. Suicidal tent is in foreground. I had taken it out of the water after it had cooled.
Once he left, we watched that tent camper briefly turn into a see-saw. Steve’s wife Amy walked around in there, unbalancing it. Occupants must have gotten a bit of a ride, but all were OK.

What would camping be without some adventure?

The pond garden

Pond Garden looking northeast. Coral bells and pepper plants are in foreground.

Pond Garden looking southwest. Blue spruce, pampas grass and volunteer green beans are in foreground.

The Frugal Gardener and her hubby have two main vegetable gardens. The narrow rectangles south of our house are the vegetable garden, currently planted with the Three Sisters on one side of the sidewalk and tomatoes and herbs on the other side of the walk. The other, an irregularly-shaped chunk of our backyard, is “The Pond Garden”.

The only water in that garden fills the bird bath. Hubby named it “The Pond Garden” because it’s shaped like a pond.

Our friend Kevin had shown us how to lay out natural-looking landscaping by using a garden hose. The hose marks sinuous curves for a relaxing, free-flowing appearance.

At that time, we had a large, ugly weed patch in our backyard. I hated it. I tried to avoid looking at it because I didn’t know what to do with it.

Then the mental light bulb turned on. I would turn that nasty patch into a garden, using the outlines of the weed patch to create natural-looking curves.

Instead of using a hose, I bought the cheapest can of orange spray paint I could find. I outlined the awful weed patch with the spray paint. Hubby tilled within the lines. I laid down salvaged red bricks for the border.

Previous owners had planted cedar trees and I had received a blue spruce from my brother and sister-in-love for my 40th birthday. We planted pampas grass in the gap between spruce and cedars for privacy, then scattered flowers in various parts of that garden. Flowers include coral bells and irises from my mother's garden. We have purple bee balm and lilies from Hubby's aunt's garden and coral hollyhocks from his parents' garden.

In the spaces that are left, we plant various vegetables each year. Volunteer buttercrunch lettuce returns every year.

An eyesore became something beautiful and productive for almost no money.

Friends are like butterflies

My friend Marilyn will be contributing guest posts from time to time. This is her first contribution.

Forrest Gump says, “Life is like a box of chocolates.” I like to think of my friendships as a "garden of butterflies.”

Butterflies thrive on a nice, warm stone. They warm their wings before flying off to hover over some waiting flower petal for refreshment and sustenance. They also need little sips of clean, fresh water in order to refresh their little bodies after they have flown hither and yon all day long.

And each butterfly is its own unique creation. Each one has a spot that is different from the others. Butterflies come in 28,000 different species and each butterfly has slightly different markings, the mark of our loving Creator’s hands.

Friends are like butterflies. As a friend, you flutter from this friend to that one, doing fun activities with this one, then sitting and drinking from your friends’ refreshing, encouraging words at the end of a long day. Or maybe you just sit on the deck and watch the sun set together, basking in the last glows of the warm sunshine and in the joy of each other’s presence.

When the weather has beaten you down, the chill in the air has spread to your heart, what better place to get warmed up than in front of a friend’s fireplace with a warm cup of hot cocoa?

Or how about those times when life has hit you behind the knees and knocked you down? Maybe one of your butterfly friends drops by and takes you out for a yummy piece of homemade apple pie a la mode! When you get home after spending time with a good friend, you feel refreshed and much safer.

So, Forrest, I love your chocolate saying, but I also like my butterfly saying! When I look at each of my four closest friends in the entire world, I see a lovely butterfly in each one of them. I see them each ministering to others who are in need of love and comfort at just the right moment. I see them spreading beauty in the world. I see each of them in need of such things in their own lives at times, and I watch as each butterfly in the group stops and ministers to one another.

Dear Lord, I love the way You made butterflies for our enjoyment and for us to learn from. We can learn a lot from the life of the beautiful butterfly. Thank You!