Karen's Projects

Hey, it’s time to fire up the turkey

2009-11-25T21:57:00.008-06:00

It was November in the rolling hills of central Texas – rocky, forested and crisp with a smidgen of fall color.

My children were bundled up, exploring a trail behind the camper. I was inside the pop-up, cooking Kraft macaroni and cheese – always a hit with the kids.

Suddenly, a piercing scream. I shoved the mac and cheese aside to coagulate and ran outside.

My 5-year-old daughter (she’s 23 now) had blood gushing down her right cheek. My son (now 24) looked guilty. He was.

Like any little kid in the vicinity of rocks, he had been having fun, throwing pebbles over his sister’s head. Unfortunately, she turned around just in time for a particularly sharp stone to glance off her delicate skin.

Horrified, I held her on my lap, calming her as my husband mopped away the blood to reveal a clean cut just below her eye. The little flap of skin was easily pulled together with a butterfly bandage, expertly applied by my husband. Never leave home without one. A little antibiotic ointment three times a day and she came off with just a hairline scar. But, ouch.

This, our first family camping trip, began a series of more than a hundred bonding experiences at Texas state parks.

One time my son got his lip stung by a bee lurking inside a sugary grape soda. Administer Benadryl.
Another time I heard the faintest barking sound coming from the other side of an actual hill. Our puppy – three pounds of Chihuahua bravado, was playing king of the hill. I rescued him before he could become some creature’s midnight kill.

The dog must have gotten away while we were around the campfire. Campfires are always the best thing about camping.

Once we hauled in a particularly large load of firewood. This fire was going to be huge. My husband had just gone through the ritual of lighting the carefully placed logs when it started to rain.

“Come on out, the fire’s great,” he called to me.

“No thanks, I’ll stay inside, but you go ahead,” I replied, watching as the rain came down harder.

Now it was a deluge.

“Honey, please come inside.” No, his mind was made up to enjoy the campfire.

Always the smug family of readers, my children and I settled in with our library books. There’s nothing better than to lie inside a pop-up camper, reading while the rain pounds on the metal roof. Really.

Meanwhile, my husband stayed outside in the lawn chair as the rain sizzled the flames away and turned the dirt to ever-deeper mud.

It was one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen. He was sinking, sinking, sinking.

One tradition was camping during the Thanksgiving break. We kept this tradition for 11 years – always at the same state park where my little girl got cut with the rock. Aside from that incident, this state park (Buescher) is a magical place where ice plants grow when it’s 17 degrees, and where my daughter made the enchanting discovery of a hidden bridge over a creek in the woods. There can be no greater memories.

Thanksgiving dinner ala campsite was a lesson in primitive cooking. I remember warming a slab of precooked, formed turkey product and slapping it down on a plate on the picnic table with candied yams (marshmallows melted on top), green beans and Stovetop stuffing.

My skills did advance through the years, even to the point of grilling a fresh turkey-half. I seasoned it, covered it lightly with foil and put that baby on the grill to slow-cook. My husband kept the grill stoked as he ran barefoot. That is, he set up his amateur radio equipment outside, transmitting and receiving via wire – I mean antenna – strung in a tree. He kept one eye on the grill while he made QSO’s – radio contacts – all over the world.

No doubt I was sprawled in a lawn chair, reading and keeping an eye on the turkey.

Something made a sizzling sound, then a pop. The turkey was in flames! Oh no – it was cooking way too fast. It wouldn’t be tender.

My husband responded quickly, interrupting his current QSO and hurriedly speaking into the microphone:
“Roger, roger, the turkey’s on fire. Over.”

That camping classic was almost as funny as watching him inflate a king-sized air mattress using only his own air because I didn’t bring a hair dryer with a truly cool setting. Thankfully, he was a runner with good lungs. Nevertheless, over the course of 45 minutes, his face turned 33 shades from pink to purple. Oops.

This column was originally published in The Facts newspaper on 9/25/05.

N5KAE CQ Contest CQ Contest

2009-11-25T18:50:00.007-06:00

Here my husband fires up his "winter garage" amateur radio station. His fully loaded ham shack is inside the house.

Today he made contact with Argentina, Aruba, and Dominica, all by CW telegraphy using his Morse code key (15 and 40 meter bands).

Last weekend he entered the ARRL Sweepstakes Sideband Contest and worked 161 stations, and all 80 ARRL sections (all 50 states, Canadian sections, Virgin Islands, Puerto Rico, etc.). He will get the “Clean Sweep” coffee cup from the ARRL.

Shown here is an old but reliable transceiver….the Drake TR-7. It runs on vacuum tubes. Mark restored it and it has been in use for 23 years, and was bought used in 1986. Antenna is a Cushcraft A-3S tri-band Yagi at 40 feet. Bencher iambic telegraph key, with an MFJ keyer rounds out the CW portion of the station.

Currently has “Worked All States” for mixed, phone, CW, 10, 15, 20, and 40 meters. Has DXCC awards for mixed, CW, phone, 10, 15, and 20 meters, with 235 countries confirmed in the mixed category.

Yeah, he says, he’s a nerd, always has been, and admits it with pride.

Halloween remains the sweetest holiday

2009-10-29T11:46:00.002-05:00

Childhood Halloweens were sweet – getting dressed up, gorging on candy.

But my fondest Halloween involved not Dots and Hershey’s, but a tiny, reddish-haired troll. I tucked it into my jewelry box, below a velvety trap door in the bottom. Even today, I would be heart-broken if the troll went missing.

My mother truly made Halloween fun with her crafty creativity. One year she scoured neighborhood stores for just the right child-sized brooms and pointy little black hats. I was about 9 when she outfitted my younger sisters and me as little witches. As we moved into adolescence, I’m afraid she got more than she bargained for.

She was great at coming up with simple, last-minute costumes for her girls. Several years, she cut two eyes out a pillowcase. Classic ghost.

A few times I dressed as a hobo, easy if you have a bandana, mismatched clothes and old shoes. No problem there.

My sister got to go as Raggedy Ann. Years later, I borrowed the idea for my own daughter, using a (new) orange dust mop for the hair. She was extremely cute.

As my children were growing up, Halloween costumes were as easy or as difficult as I cared to make them. The easiest was when my son toddled along as an Indian in a fringed, decorated paper-sack costume. In later years, he went as a pirate (curly, drawn-on mustache) and a puppy (gray sweats with black felt spots sewn on).

Then, around age 7, he became too cool for costumes and just went for the grub.

My daughter’s Halloween costuming phase lasted into middle school. I remember many an Oct. 30 gazing in horror at whatever pattern she and I had picked out. It was always impossibly complicated. Sometimes there were way too many ruffles. One time I was supposed to miraculously applique a black cat onto a poodle skirt using only sequins, needle and thread.

The worst was when I foolishly selected lame', a fragile, shiny-metallic fabric that shredded as quickly as I could sew a seam. I must have been using the wrong sewing machine needle. It’s a well-known fact that my sewing machine has a love-hate relationship with me. For the past few years, the lever has been stuck on H instead of L.

So, while I’m relieved the costume-making phase has passed, I’d still spend all those late nights sewing fairy costumes for my daughter.

Every mother wants her daughter to feel like a princess, at least one day a year. Growing up is hard enough the other 364.

This column was originally published on 10/23/05 in The Facts newspaper, Clute, Texas. Copyright The Facts.

The hungry hordes

2009-08-07T12:49:00.010-05:00

What are all these bugs double- and triple-parked on my tomato? At first I thought these were stinkbugs, but they're actually Leaf-Footed Bugs at the nymph stage. The Houston Garden Book says Leaf-Footed Bugs prefer tomatoes and okra. These nefarious pests cause damage as they suck out the plant's fluids. I found a really good bug identification guide at http://bugguide.net/node/view/15740

Electric Chihuahua

2009-08-06T08:11:00.003-05:00

My little dog, Skip, has a slight attitude problem.

Handmade originals by Karen

2009-08-05T09:12:00.005-05:00

This is one of my latest necklaces. Contact me if you're interested in adopting it! Length: 20"-22" adjustable.

Handsome couples

2009-07-10T08:30:00.002-05:00

This is our daughter, Vickie, and her wonderful significant other, Nathan. They're a great couple!

Here's our son, Ed, with his wife, Jaclyn, shortly before the birth of their second child. Jaclyn is amazing!

I can no longer skirt the dress issue

2009-07-10T07:54:00.001-05:00

By Karen Nace (in 2005)

“Mom, surely you’re not going out in that,” said my son, visiting from college. He was clearly concerned.

I looked down at my outfit.

“No, I just can’t do it.” I laughed and turned back to change clothes.

The next week I tried again. No way.

Finally I got up the courage. By golly, I had on my whirly-twirly outfit for a night out square dancing with my husband. Yee-haw.

My mauve-colored blouse and knee-length skirt were fine. My issue was with the ivory-colored petticoat – 60 yards of poufed up crinoline just waiting to take over the world.

I soon discovered that a square-dancing petticoat fills whatever space it’s given, in this case the front seat of the Honda. A few minutes later, I self-consciously squeezed out of the car and the somewhat compacted petticoat sprang into action. It flounced me right up the stairs and into the Lake Jackson Civic Center. There, it propelled me into the reassuring presence of the Lake Jackson Promenaders.

“I feel like an inverted tulip,” I confessed to one of the ladies.

“It’s just a costume, Honey, think of it as a costume You’ll get used to it.”

The Promenaders are wonderful people. They’re kind, courteous and very, very patient with me, a petticoat-propelled klutz.

One time I was supposed to Four Little Ladies Chain. Instead, I created a new dance step – the Barge Through – nearly knocking down two of the little ladies and sending the caller, J.C. Flowers of Lake Jackson, into fits of laughter.

I do know how to California Twirl, make an Ocean Wave and Weave the Ring. Star Through is pretty easy and I have the hang of the basic Swing. Keep in mind that it took 20 weekly lessons to even remotely get the hang of 70 basic moves.

Now my husband and I are badge-wearing members of the Promenaders and dance at least twice a month.

I’m still stepping through the complexities of square dancing. Luckily, my whirly-twirly petticoat is there to propel me through the Allemande Thar, Wheel and Deal, Flutterwheel and the still-puzzling Ferris Wheel.

Two hours of dancing is great exercise, and when I get home and take off my suede-soled dancing shoes, I have one more thing to do. I take back control of the petticoat.
Wrestling it back into its small compartment and zipping the bag closed brings an odd sense of satisfaction.

Ha, I win again. Now stay there.

This column was originally published 9/11/05 in The Facts newspaper, Clute, Texas

Do we look relaxed?

2009-07-02T13:10:00.001-05:00

This is from our long-awaited cruise not too long ago.

Harvest time

2009-07-02T09:00:00.000-05:00

Five weeks ago, I was enjoying my first successful crop of corn. I had 92 corn plants and they were producing like crazy. We had home-grown corn every night.

Corn worms

2009-07-02T08:57:00.000-05:00

Just about every ear of corn I harvested had a small worm at the top. A few days later the worms were enormous, so I put in a call to the Garden Line -- my wonderful father-in-law. He advised me to put a drop of mineral oil at the site of the problem. Bingo, worms were dead.

More devastation

2009-07-02T08:55:00.000-05:00

The problem grew worse in just a few days. My father-in-law said this damage wasn't from worms. This time it was squirrel damage. These hungry little garden pests had munched their way through the tops of the ears. The squirrels had pushed every stalk down to the ground and taken little bites, then moved to the next ear.

Scarecrow-like beings

2009-07-02T08:49:00.001-05:00

My father-in-law said that a fake owl and some fake snakes might help deter the hungry hordes. I ran right out and bought a fake owl ($12.99 at Lowe's) and 11 fake snakes ($1 each in the novelty toy department of Walmart.)

Corn destruction

2009-07-02T08:44:00.000-05:00

The next day dawned on complete devastation.

The true culprit

2009-07-02T08:29:00.000-05:00

Here Skip the Chihuahua smugly sits for a portrait of his handiwork -- 92 stalks of corn in the compost pile. He's definitely smart enough to take the squirrels' lead in pushing down corn in order to munch it. He had quite a time. Or maybe the true culprits were raccoons?

Small dogs loom large in lives of owners

2009-06-23T19:39:00.000-05:00

By Karen Nace

They’re Mastiffs trapped in small bodies. Unaware, Chihuahuas enliven their days with terrifying bursts of growls, yips and snips.

Any person, animal or dust bunny should be aware of this breed. He is extremely territorial. Though the self-important Chihuahua doesn’t realize it, all this tough-guy demeanor is quite comical.

Take the case of the UPS man who wanders into Chihuahua territory. The doorbell rings and the door opens.

A Chihuahua attacks his brown shoelaces and won’t let go. The UPS man tries to shake off the dog, but the fierce canine only strengthens his clamp. The UPS man laughs and walks away only after the owner contains Killer. Good thing the UPS man was wearing his brown boots.

A Chihuahua waits under the bed, knowing the house cleaner will be in to change the sheets. She temporarily piles bedspread and pillows on the floor at the end of the bed. The Chihuahua is patient. At the right time he crawls commando-style to his reconnaissance point under the end of the bed. As the housekeeper deftly snaps the bedspread back into place, Psycho Dog lunges, aiming for the shins and scaring her half to death. Next time she remembers to wear boots.

Ever the hunter, Mr. Outdoorsman regularly faces off with a baby possum under the shed. The foolish Chihuahua struts away with head held high, pretending he didn’t get nipped in the snout. Rabies shots are up to date.

Though hobbies include “fencing” raccoons and barking menacingly at the meter man (a monthly highlight), the Chihuahua hasn’t quite gotten the hang of chasing squirrels. One mystery endures: Where do the squirrels disappear to when they get to the big tree? Duh.

The neighborhood owls congregate on the fence to ponder: Is this noisy little chunk of meat worth the trouble? Whoooo could do it? The squirming, snapping 7-pounder would require at least two hefty night-hunters. They have not yet summoned the energy.

The feisty Chihuahua, however, has energy to spare, when he is not lolling about in a sunbeam. He attacks visitors, then morphs into a loving lapdog. As they get up to leave, however, Mr. Split Personality goes back into attack mode. He must have the last word.

How can he attack a 350-pound man yet cower at the windshield wipers, which are only doing their job. He trembles at the sound of “bath,” “vet” and “go for a ride.” The words “storming,” “raining,” “lightning” and “thundering” strike fear into the Chihuahua but evil glee into his owner. It’s just so much fun, yet so pitiful.

Despite his peculiarities and laughable antics, this Chihuahua greets us when we get home, snuggles with his family member of the day and provides affection that is both therapeutic and comical.

His name is Skip: ever loyal, ever vigilant, and ever psychotic. I think we’ll keep him.

This column was originally published 10/3/04 in The Facts newspaper - Clute, Texas

A wonderful writing seminar

2009-06-13T19:48:00.001-05:00

I was pleased to attend Ron Rozelle's Wordsmithing 101 seminar June 8-10, 2009. Mr. Rozelle is a published author of seven books. He created and teaches the only high school creative writing program in Texas which offers four courses: Creative Writing I, II, III and IV. The students at Brazoswood High School in Clute, Texas, are very lucky to have Mr. Rozelle. This is my first creative writing seminar to attend, and I really learned a lot. Thanks Ron, and to Pat Soledade, who facilitated the seminar.

Here are Ron Rozelle's books:

Daily tomato harvest

2009-06-13T19:37:00.001-05:00

What cute kids

2009-06-13T19:33:00.000-05:00

My sewing machine hates me, loves me, hates me, loves me

2009-06-13T19:03:00.000-05:00

My sewing machine has a love-hate relationship with me. I've probably sewn hundreds of things, in the distant past. For the past few years,though, the lever has been stuck on H instead of L.

When I recently came across the cutest little coordinating fabrics, I decided to see if my sewing machine was in a better mood. It was. For Kara's second birthday, I managed to make three little outfits from McCall's M5560 Easy Stitch 'n Save pattern. That might be about it for sewing, at least for the next decade.

zzzzzzzzzzz

2009-06-13T18:59:00.000-05:00

How to make a baby blanket combining crochet, sewing and cross-stitch

2009-06-13T18:18:00.000-05:00

Straight from the
Grandmother Is Me file:
Since I now have two grandchildren, which is the most fun ever, I made them each a multi-media baby blanket. Kara's is variegated pink and Sam's is variegated blue.

I started by crocheting, then
finished up with a cross-stitched
initial on the front and sewn-on
satin on the back. The satin is
to make the blanket absolutely
irrestible to my two littlest sweeties.

This is why I tend to adapt or make up my own crochet patterns. The instructions look like this:

With Main Color, ch 105. Row 1: Right side - SC in
2nd ch from hook, *DC in next ch, SC in next ch*,
repeat from * across row, ending with DC in last
stitch (104 sts). Row 2: SC in 2nd chain from hook,
DC in next*, repeat from * across row. ch 1, turn.
Row 3: Repeat row 2 for pattern and work until
piece measures about 43” from beginning. Next
row: SC in each st across. Join white, ch 1, turn.
Work even in SC for 13 rows, ch 1 and turn to side
edge. Edging: Making sure piece lays flat as you
work, SC around next 3 sides, working 3 sc in
each corner. Join with slip stitch to last round.
Final round: Ch 1, * sc in next st, ch 2. sc in same
st, skip next st. Repeat from * around making
picot edge. Join and fasten off. Yikes.

*Gotta love those asterisks

If you would like instructions in real English, please leave me a request in the comment section (right below this box) and I will get them to you.

My vegetables have garlic breath

2009-06-12T08:12:00.000-05:00

A few days ago I made an organic garden spray with large amounts of garlic and hot peppers, plus vegetable oil, detergent and water. You blend it all up in the blender, then strain. I'm surprised this fiery spray has not eaten its way through the spray bottle. I have to wear gloves and safety glasses during application to the tops and undersides of vegetable leaves that are showing signs of insect damage. This is hot enough to stop even fire ants in their tracks.

Perfect camo

2009-06-10T07:00:00.000-05:00

Here is a before and after of my favorite mushroom. Before, it blends in with the dirt in my front flowerbed. After being stepped on, it looks like ordinary dirt. Note the treadmarks from my shoe.

Ever the curious person, I looked up mushrooms and toadstools. Apparently, the difference lies mostly in edibility.

According to the American Heritage Dictionary, a toadstool is an inedible fungus with an umbrella-shaped fruiting body. Conversely, a mushroom is any of various fleshy fungi of the class Basidiomycetes, characteristically having an umbrella-shaped cap borne on a stalk, esp. any of the edible varieties.

I could look this up in the “National Audubon Society Field Guide to North American Mushrooms.” I'm assuming this was written by mycologists -- botanists who are experts in fungus amungus.

Are there any mycologists out there who can identify this specimen? All I know is that I’m not eating any wild mushrooms – or toadstools.

Green bean help needed

2009-06-03T18:53:00.000-05:00

Does anyone know what's wrong with my green beans? You can use the comments link right below this post. Thanks!

Candidates were a strapping lot

2009-06-02T19:20:00.000-05:00

By Karen Nace

I had lined up 10 candidates for the job. They sat quietly and when approached, showed their best advantages.

Several sturdy, upright characters promised to handle whatever life might dish out.

Others snapped to attention, displaying impressive organizational skills. They seemed to have their lives compartmentalized quite nicely. Orderly yet set in their ways, maybe they took themselves too seriously.

Two applicants were reticent but did finally open up to show great depth of character. They seemed easy enough to get along with, though I was afraid their refined manners might not hold up in tough situations.

Undecided yet determined, I took it to the next level.

If they really wanted the job, they’d have to spill their guts.

They all complied. Three lost the stuffing of pomposity. A few had passed themselves off as sturdier than they really were. One had multiple personalities. It was a tough test.

Unconventional, yes. But it was this realistic approach that helped me make up my mind.

I had entered the department store on a quest. I was leaving with the perfect handbag.

I’ll admit I might have been a little over the top. Not too many shoppers take 10 purses aside to inspect, unstuff then conscientiously restuff. For an hour.

But I was one satisfied customer who had shopped locally.

My purse has been in constant use since July. It has all the right qualities. It sits up on its own. There’s no annoying zippered divider. It closes with a magnetic snap. It matches my clothing, since I wear nothing but black and white (slight exaggeration, but what a way to build a wardrobe).

Whatever I chunk into my purse sinks right to the bottom, where it belongs.

The other day, my shoulder and neck were beginning to stiffen up. It was time to clean out my purse.

An investigation conducted for this column revealed shocking disorder.

I pulled out Caladryl and lotion bottles, a reporter’s notebook and digital camera. Change had jingled its way to the bottom, making it difficult to listen for my keys. My cell phone had fallen out of its little pouch and Bic pens were making calls to Alaska.

Various cosmetics, shockingly, had not been returned to their proper zippered compartment. A quart water bottle and four tubes of lip balm had the run of the place. A wad of papers, receipts and sticky notes were making life difficult. I couldn’t find my wallet or glasses.

Once I got organized, I stretched out my shoulder and sighed in relief. All clear for another day.

This column was originally published on 3/23/05 in The Facts newpaper, Clute, Texas

As Seen on TV! (!!!!!!)

2009-06-02T16:26:00.000-05:00

If you're old enough, you'll remember when the Bamboo Steamer (pronounced Steam-ah) was all over the place on TV. It promised three-layer meal preparation on top of steaming water -- all in one pan. I never did order it. Did you?

What about Ginsu knives? TV commercials claimed that they could saw through soda cans and, who knows, rubber tires. Never ordered any -- I always thought the shipping and handling charge was too much. What can I say -- I'm cheap. However, years ago I found a package of Ginsu knives at Wal-Mart or somewhere like that and I still use one of them every day.

Another gem was some kind of Veg-o-Matic, or was that a Richard Simmons product? If you don't know who Richard Simmons is, just think "Sweatin' with the Oldies" exercise videos, white-guy afro and sweatbands.

Now, after at least 30 years of trying to ignore As Seen on TV ads ("But wait! There's more!"), I actually purchased a product that promised to bring my purse to order. For $14.98 (including S/H !!!) I got the Purse Brite purse organizer from Best of As Seen on TV. It seems a little flimsier than they show on the ads, but it works. You put your stuff in these tiny pockets then roll it and stuff it in your purse. It has come in handy. Today I actually switched my purse organiz-ah from one purse to another. The ring 'o purse organizer leaves a big enough space in the bottom for your wallet, cell phone, keys, digital camera and the other things you take in and out of your handbag several times a day. And did I mention that it comes with a little light so you can see in the dark recesses of your purse.

Do you have your own fond memories of As Seen on TV merchandise or commercials? If so, you can leave a comment -- I do love feedback! The comment link is right below this post.

Plants that take over the world - Lantana

2009-05-31T18:52:00.000-05:00

"How do I grow things," I asked my friend, Beverly, a number of years ago. She told me, "Just dig a hole and plant it." For me, that only holds true if I have the right plant. I've found that flowers and shrubs that do well here on the Gulf Coast of Texas are basically those that like sunshine and rain but can survive drought.

Lantana is my all-time favorite flower, shrub or flowing shrub. A while back I noticed that this pink variety grows alongside woods, so I figured it would grow in my garden. Within two weeks a little plant expanded its territory to half the side of my house. Yikes!

Plants that take over the world - Mexican Petunia

2009-05-31T18:47:00.000-05:00

A few years ago, my friend Suzie gave me some cuttings of Mexican Petunia. It's thriving in my courtyard area ... maybe a little too much.

Mexican Petunia poses a constant threat of insurrection. It spreads out to the limits, then when it runs out of room it builds a second story, then third. Luckily it's easy to pull out when it gets too thick or confident. Mexican petunia is beautiful, with dark green foliage and a mass of purple flowers. It's worth it.

Plants that take over the world - Mexican Heather

2009-05-31T18:40:00.000-05:00

I had to take drastic action with Mexican Heather took over its territory and more. This plant is beautiful, with fern-like leaves and delicate purple flowers. These little shrubs seem to grow overnight, plus they send out little shoots that are hard to control.

Mexican Heather has been banned from my environs. But it sure is pretty.

Plants that take over the world - Plumbago

2009-05-31T18:34:00.001-05:00

I had to uproot Cape Plumbago when it threatened to spread out and smother all other living things in my front flowerbed.

Now it's down by my mailbox, contained and happy.

Plants that take over the world - Bougainvillea

2009-05-31T18:24:00.000-05:00

Bougainvillea is beautiful but quite thorny. I've lost many a battle with this sticker bush. Now I go into battle with long sleeves, long pants and long gloves. Several times a year it grows up into the eaves so I have to cut it back.

A long time ago, a friend told me that bougainvillea thrives when it is root-bound, thirsty and non-fertilized. The perfect plant for me!

It was a drive most fowl

2009-05-29T14:47:00.000-05:00

By Karen Nace

A white, long-necked bird waited patiently by the side of the road. It was neither his lucky day nor mine.

I was driving north on Old Angleton Road. Just at the wrong time, the bird flew fast and low into my Suburban. Thwack.

I checked my mirrors to see where the poor creature had landed. Nothing. I checked again, even turning around to look at the retreating asphalt. Nothing. I was horrified.

Then, just barely, I saw a tip of one of the great white wings. It wasn’t exactly a hood ornament, but it seemed to be working its way up.

My eyes widened and my jaw dropped. It seemed to be waving to me in the wind.

Passing motorists motioned that there was a bird stuck to the front of my car. All I could manage was a curt wave. This was embarrassing and just plain gross.

The drive up Old Angleton Road seemed endless. What was I going to do with this thing? There was no way I could even look at it, much less clean it off under high pressure at a car wash. Sick.

As I turned right on Cemetery Road, I thought I saw a twig sticking up from the front of my car. Please let it be a twig. Oh, please let it be a twig.

As my luck goes, the bird’s large, scaly foot was moving into view. I tried to think of what to do. A hunting-less childhood had left me squeamish for life. Here I was with a large white bird stuck to the front of my car and there was no way I was going to even look at it.

Ah. I spotted the Department of Public Safety driver’s license office. Rather embarrassing, but maybe I could get an officer to remove the bird. At that moment Trooper Clara Brown stepped out of her official vehicle.

“M’am, could I ask you a favor?”

“Sure, what do you need?”

“Could you get this bird off the front of my car? I can’t look at it. It’s sickening.”

“Yes, I can do it for you. Just a minute while I go find gloves and a bag.”

I plopped down on my SUV’s back bumper.

“M’am, are you traumatized?”

I shook my head, shielded my eyes so I would have to look at the big white bird, and went inside to wait.

Trooper Brown reported the cleanup complete and I headed out to the car.

“You look like you’re in trauma. M’am, are you sure you’re OK?”

I assured her I was OK to drive and thanked her profusely.

Thank you again, Trooper Brown, for service beyond the call of duty. I’m one grateful wimp.

Published 8/14/05 in The Facts newspaper - Clute, Texas

Granny square afghan

2009-05-08T14:00:00.000-05:00

Who in their right mind would piece together such a gigantic afghan? That would be me. I needed a portable project and 9-inch squares seemed to fit the bill. The problem comes when you want to join the squares ... a big pain. Well, that pain's gone and I'm enjoying the afghan. It's an afghan for giants. The afghan is actually twice as long as shown.

2009-05-08T13:57:00.000-05:00

I think this is cutworm.

2009-05-06T22:22:00.000-05:00

The Mittleider Method is by a county extension agent who has shown people all over the world how to successfully garden according to their climate and the vegetable varieties that naturally grow well there. He also addresses irrigation, weed control, disease prevention and pest control.

25' x 15' vegetable garden

2009-05-06T22:20:00.000-05:00

My vegetable garden is done according to the Mittleider Method.

With Karen in the garden

2009-05-06T22:10:00.000-05:00

Hello!

Here's my little garden patch with corn, tomatoes and potatoes. It seems to be thriving. Had to happen sometime!

2009-04-21T16:28:00.000-05:00

Hi folks. I am an ordinary person who, like you, has a lot going on. Most of my projects are centered around home and family.