As Missy is wont to do, I’ve began last Sunday’s Travels in the middle of things. So let’s back up. First– thanks to Daughter C! Not only were the photos taken by her when she & the J-Man visited the Walter Anderson Museum of Art, but also she kindly supplied me with a lot of
In order to realize the beauty of man we must realize his connection to nature. Walter Inglis Anderson More coming soon– including The Little Room!
“Missy! Rocky! Come ‘er!” Marica hollered. Missy and Rocky jumped from the bed and ran into the kitchen. “What is it, Marica?” Missy asked. “What is it?” “Ruff? Ruff?” asked Rocky. “You’ve got mail!” Marica said. “Ruff?!?” “Really?!? We have mail! Oh my goodness! Oh my!” Missy said excitedly while spinning around in circles. “Who’s
Originally published January 24, 2016. Daughter C asked for some slow cooker recipes. Here are a few links to recipes here on the blog. Unless otherwise noted, all have photos. Note that many of the recipes are migrants from the old blogger host and so look a bit weird (but it’s the recipes that matter).
Might warm up the joint a bit. It’s cold out there!
Daughter C has managed to aggravated me, even in her absence. Seriously, Care. Do you really think that your old toilet paper rolls count for art supplies? I trashed most of it. I’m sure you could make something of them, but few folks are as as talented as you are. I love you.
Daughter C gave my camera back to me. Complete with 188 images of Walter Anderson’s house in Ocean Springs, Mississippi! The print is “Landscape with Farmhouse” by Mondrain in Metropolitan Seminars in Art Portfolio 4: Abstraction, John Canaday, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 1959. The various pieces of clutter are petrified wood that Daughter C
back in the Den and I heard a knock. I turned my head, and heard “Hey Mom,” But it was just the heater turning on, not Daughter C. I miss her.
As I sit in front of the television on this New Years Day— a day filled with appetizers served at noon, two o’clock, four o’clock and more still to come— Daughter C and The J-Man are moving the contents of The Apartment into the U-Haul. Not everything, mind you! Like all good children, they are
For reasons that have everything to do with this post, I’ve spent the last two days scouring my pictures files, and an array of folders with pictures in them, looking for pictures. Along the way, I wondered, when did Daughter C move in? And out and in again? And out and in again w/ The
Yesterday afternoon “Mom? Mom?” “Yes?” “I’ve decided to bake something, too. Can I use a butter from the freezer?” “Of course!” ~~ “Mom? Mom? Do we have any pear brandy?” “No, I don’t think so.” “Are you going to town?” “Yes.” “Are you going to the liquor store?” “Yes.” “Could you get some pear brandy?
As you can see, Daughter C outdid herself. Lovely, don’t you think? The weather is forecast to be very Thanksgivingy– Southern Country Mouse-wise. One or two Thanksgiving orphans will join us. Traditional menu, though not sure what Daughter C and The J-Man are bringing. Table is set. Well. Okay. Underneath all of the dishes &
by Daughter C.
Handmade by Daughter C
It’s incredible! Handmade complete with skulls as banister ornaments, a gargoyle, door knocker– that’s Lurch, by the way– and headless woman.
Daughter C has decided it’s time for Fall. There are ghosts everywhere! Thus concludes your mid-morning dose of real life here on the Farm in rural Mississippi where the temperature is forecast to be … 89° and the cotton farmers are getting anxious because we’ve had so many downpours in the last few days they
When we got back to the Farm late this afternoon, we found a sign on the Kitchen Table proclaiming that supper was baked potato bar. OMG. After supper of Baked Potato Bar we watched the First Episode of Season Three The Good Place. We are Family. REPEAT. We are Family.
Vis=a=== damn. Via Ace: http://ace.mu.nu/
I’ve been boticing that stupid auto-correct fails miserably along the dialect fringe. Gen-U-Ine (for you poor souls that don’t know this, I’m uttering the word, according to Webster, “genuine” as how it’s said, “Gen-U-Ine” by some people. Genuine. It’s a word.) ‘Nuff of that. This is a Genuinely Large Tomato. We’re right proud.
Note the flowers in a shell. Exotic… with a hint of shipwrecked on an island. Mr. Big Food enjoyed Daughter C’s Father’s Day Robinson Crusoe Cocktail immensely. Happy Father’s Day! Wait. Are those lettuce gone to seed flowers? If so, brilliant. There is a certain brilliance of forethought associated with letting things go to seed