“Halloween. It’s all fun and games until I forget where I parked my broom.”
~Toni Armenta Andrukaitis
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As I walk through my neighborhood and around town, it’s fun to see the interesting and creative Halloween decorations. I’m still not sure if many parents are allowing heir kids to go out this year. It seems like a lot of them are, according to the scuttlebutt on Facebook. It’s only about 4 pm right now, and I haven’t had any visitors yet, sometimes they wait until dark.
A few sights…
The cutest most adorable trick or treaters I’ve ever seen. Well, not up close and personal, but through the magic of the internet. I miss these little “Mouses” or is it “Mice?”
Using the old plastic salad tongs for passing out candy.
Happy Halloween. Be safe. (And let me know if you find my broom parked around somewhere. Licenses plate IAMAZING1)
“Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting and autumn a mosaic of them all.”
~ Stanley Horowitz
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The sun was vibrant and invigorating today, very little breeze and perfect temps in the mid 60’s. Ah, Autumn at its finest.
Today, I’d like to share some photos present and past. I don’t do much holiday decorating since the kids are grown and have left the nest. But, I do love to collect colorful Fall leaves on my walks, press them between pages of a heavy magazine, collect acorns, and use them for decoration in the kitchen. My knockout rose bush is still blooming plentifully.
Here’s my professional leaf and flower pressing procedure.
This big heavy duty RH Interiors catalog came a few years ago, (Have no idea what that is) but it’s perfect for pressing leaves and flowers now that we don’t get phone books anymore. I used to love phone books for pressing.
Some photos from the past…
Reading to my artist friends at Towne Creek Senior Apartments 10 years ago. I was wearing my new glasses, and I must have had a cold because my nose was all red.
Old Prince dressed up as a cowboy. I think he really wanted to be a fireman that year, but the hat just wouldn’t stay on.
Always a lot of baking to do.
My neighbor, Miss Donna gave me this humongous bag of chocolate chips because she knows I love to bake.
Last year, I got to visit with my dear besties back in Chicago.
Now, saving the best for last… IT’S BLACK Russian Friday! Cheers, my friends.
“Sometimes a song can bring back painful memories. But, keep singing your own song till you can sing along without the tears.”
~Me
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You know me, I just love to sing and dance and play music throughout the house. Well, one day last week, I hear the song, “One Less Bell to Answer,” and a torrid of tears came bursting out and I couldn’t stop crying. I cried and shivered and sobbed for what seemed an eternity The song used to be my favorite song, and the Fifth Dimension was my favorite group. A certain someone gave me that album our first Christmas together. The memories came flooding through.
I san that sad song and posted it on YouTube the day after my divorce in 2014. I cried then too…
Now, I’ve “got that out of my system,” so I’m singing my happy mellow version today. As God is my witness, I will never cry when I hear this song again.
“When the weather gets cold, the Quarantined get cookin’.”
~ Toni Armenta Andrukaitis
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It’s been such a busy week… NOT! It’s been cold and dreary and misty and did I say dreary already? When it gets chilly, I go into polar bear hibernating mode. But, that’s only after I bake and cook and simmer and mess up the entire kitchen.
My favorite cold weather recipe is “Everything But the Kitchen Sink Soup.” Actually, you know me, I don’t use no stinkin’ recipes. I just go into the freezer, taking my life into my own hands, searching for possible soup ingredients, while frozen tubes of foiled wrapped cookie dough and hash browns come flying out and fall on my bare feet. Ouch!
I found a bunch of cool ingredients. Frozen mixed vegetables, spinach, a left-over sour dough bread bowl from Panera, and a couple of packages of meatloaf. In the fridge, I found celery, 1/2 a red cabbage, and 3 onions. In the pantry, a couple of cans of tomatoes with roasted chilies, two big containers of broth, and a couple of cans of cream of mushroom soup. Hmm? Did I miss anything?
I boiled and simmered that big pot all day, and it made the greatest soup. I put that defrosted leftover bread bowl in the toaster oven and added the soup, topped it with some cheese… oh man… heaven in a bowl.
I’m making you hungry, aren’t I? Well, come on over. I have some left over soup.
“Nothing says Fall, October, and Halloween like a black cat sitting on a pumpkin.”
~Toni Armenta Andrukaitis
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Well, another lazy crazy day. It’s cold and gloomy and the heat keeps kicking on. It’s Texas for goodness sakes, what’s the deal. I scrolled through a bunch of Fall ideas on Google to see what I should paint today. I try not to copy too many aspects of the ideas I find. As an artist, you can copy anything if you just plan keep it for yourself or friends and family. But, if you plan to sell your work, it needs to be mostly your original ideas and work. Mostly, I just paint for myself. Thus, I have a house filled with hundreds of pieces of artwork. Mostly original, some ideas from other artists.
Today’s time-lapse video… a notecard for Debbie. She’s always sending me beautiful Hallmark cards, so I’m sending her a Tonimark card, with matching envelope, of course.
While I had the paint out, I figured I’d paint another pumpkin sans black cat, just for fun.
“A new religion with only one commandment: Thou shalt not tell others how to live.”
― Marty Rubin
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A Gloomy misty cloudy chilly Sunday here. But alas, I didn’t have to wake up early, and I was able to watch Mass on TV. I’m getting very spoiled and lazy. With my tea and cookie in hand, (bread and wine for the blessing) I was ready for the service.
Today’s Gospel was the story of another group trying to have Jesus incriminate Himself…
When the Pharisees heard that Jesus had silenced the Sadducees,
they gathered together, and one of them,
a scholar of the law tested him by asking,
“Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?”
He said to him,
“You shall love the Lord, your God,
with all your heart,
with all your soul,
and with all your mind.
This is the greatest and the first commandment.
The second is like it:
You shall love your neighbor as yourself.
The whole law and the prophets depend on these two commandments.”
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My take on it… Well, this Gospel I’ve been agreeing with and professing forever. There really should be only two commandments. Love God, love your neighbor, all the others just refer to the first two. Actually, I wouldn’t even say “Love your neighbor as yourself,” because some people don’t love themselves. How about, love your neighbor better than yourself.
Well, the rest of my day was pretty quiet, peaceful, and lovely.
Happy Sunday, my friends. I love God, and I love you all.
“I find myself becoming increasingly nostalgic for the past, but after all I suppose that is the only thing one can be nostalgic about.”
― James Rozoff
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The life of a long distance grandma is challenging. Thank goodness for technology and a wonderful caring family. I received a FaceTime call from my sweet daughter-in-law, asking if I was able to FaceTime with the girls. Princess Belle wanted to show Gamma her new outfit. She was Minnie Mouse today. The girls love to play dress up.
While I had them on camera, I asked if they’d like to open their Sunday Surprise package from Gamma today. I had this cool idea that if I sent a box of little packages for the girls, labeled Week 1, Week 2, etc., enough to last a couple of months, then I could watch them open up their little gifts when they called on Sunday. They called today, so I asked if they could open their gifts today.
The girls were excited and immediately went to the table to use their new colored pencils, and Belle was enchanted with the pencil sharpener, needing to sharpen the already sharpened pencils, but just the colors that she liked. Black and brown did not need re-sharpening. Lovely sentimental things like this just warms my heart.
After we said our goodbyes, I was going through some of my old photos on my iPad. I have over 10,000. It takes a while. I lingered over the more nostalgic memories. I won’t share them all. You’re welcome.
Some of my favorites.
The Reynolds triplets a long time ago. I bade them this silly school bus cake for back to school which was also around their birthday. I miss these little faces.
One of Mom’s beautiful murals.
A chilly cloudy day here in North Texas, but a warm nostalgic Saturday here at my house.
Sometimes we should express our gratitude for the small and simple things like the scent of the rain, the taste of your favorite food, or the sound of a loved one’s voice.
~Joseph B. Wirthlin
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My week is all discombobulated. Without my regular routine, I’m all mixed up. I need routine, stability, schedules… I need a drink, is what I need. (Thank goodness it’s Friday.) I don’t do change well. This Covid stuff has me going crazy. Wednesday became Thursday, and Thursday I wrote a throwback Thursday memory, and today I’m singing karaoke instead of yesterday. Tomorrow, I’ll wake up and I will not know what day it is. Ah, but if that’s the least of my worries.
I was still awake when the rain and storm blew in between 2 and 3 a.m. I rejoiced at the sound of the pelting rain, we needed the rain. Plus, my sprinklers are all messed up, so I haven’t been watering like I should. Thanks up there.
So, today I’m singing my Quarantined Karaoke Black Russian Friday.
“”Rainy Days and Mondays.”
Ah, now for my famous Black Russian Friday… Cheers, my friends!
Modern storytellers are the descendants of an immense and ancient community of holy people, troubadours, bards, griots, cantadoras, cantors, traveling poets, bums, hags and crazy people. – Clarissa Pinkola Estes
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Normally, my Thursday is my Quarantined Karaoke Thursday post, but when I was checking Facebook today, I saw my old story about Tommy the wandering troubadour. No one has seen him around McKinney for a few years. I sure hope he is O.K. and singing, laughing and making new friends. (Tommy singing “Homeward Bound,” below. Check out the YouTube video. Has anyone seen Tommy?)
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TOMMY AND MABLE
Tommy sat on the cold metal bench outside a little coffee shop in downtown McKinney. His raspy muffled voice crooned a soft country song, while aged yet agile fingers strummed across the well worn strings of a blue acoustic guitar. Salt and pepper hair brushed across a ruddy bearded face as a crisp north wind kicked up. Tommy reached over to secure the two wrinkled dollar bills flapping inside the open guitar case. He carefully tucked the ends of the bills under the small stack of prized CDs bearing his image and that of Mable, his faithful companion of thirty-seven years.
Johnny Cash’s, “Ring of Fire,” soulfully echoed across the Square, and Tommy’s foot tapped along with each rhythmic beat. I dragged a wooden chair across the brick sidewalk, and then parked myself a couple feet away from the real-life Texas troubadour. I enjoyed each rendition of old familiar tunes, as well as the original compositions inspired by nearly forty years of life on the road.
“Tommy, would you mind telling me a little bit about yourself, ” I asked when he took his first cigarette break. “Where are you from?”
“I was born in McKinney, Texas. Haven’t been back here in over thirty years.” His tone and demeanor became a bit more serious when he described his early childhood.
“Yep, I was born right here in McKinney. My folks got killed when I was thirteen. They wanted to put me in foster care, so I took off and rode the rails. Never looked back. Been traveling ’round the country ever since.”
His eyes brightened and a little crooked smile appeared when he started talking about Mable. “We’ve been together for thirty-seven years now. I was rummaging around in a dumpster looking for cans one day, when I ran across this old black guitar with a broken neck. She was in bad shape, but I fixed her up with some glue and tightened up her strings.”
The adventures were mixed with making new friends and happy times, sprinkled with the hard hungry days.
“We’ve walked across all these forty-eight states, just playing music for folks and living off what they put in my guitar case.”
Tommy went on to describe the nomadic life of a traveling troubadour. “I’ve never run into anyone else who does this. It’s an honest livin’. I don’t beg. I just play my music and if folks like what they hear, they drop a dollar or two in my case. Sometimes I’d ride the rails from one town to the next or just walk ’till I couldn’t walk no more.”
I listened as he carefully crushed the tiny cigarette butt beneath his worn out walking shoe and tossed it in the trash can beside the bench. “I don’t stay in one town for more than a few days. Never had a wife or kids. Wouldn’t be right, with me movin’ round so much. Wouldn’t change a thing if I could.”
When I asked about Mable, he said she was named after his beloved grandmother. The old black acoustic guitar with hundreds of scrawled signatures from front to back, now sat in the window of Snug on the Square, just a few feet away. I asked if I could take a picture of him and Mable, so he walked over and took her out of the window. I could see the jagged repair on her neck and her strings were missing.
“Mable’s retired. When you retire a guitar, you take off the strings. Need ’em for the next one.” Then he pointed out the spot where Elvis had scribbled his name one rainy night in ’69 in Mobile, Alabama. But, he was just as proud of the signatures from a group of women that signed her after a Susan B. Koman walk a few years back.
“ I decided that it all began here, so it should end here. I’m leaving Mable with Sandra and these nice folks. I know they’ll take good care of her.”
Tommy mentioned that when he came back to McKinney after being gone for so long, he strolled along the unfamiliar streets and asked around at a few shops and restaurants downtown to see if he could set up somewhere and play his guitar. Sandra Nichols, owner of Snug on the Square, was the only one who welcomed him and treated him with respect. “That’s when I knew my Mable would have a good home and a good family right here. They’re going to keep her right there in the window.”
I was intrigued by the story of Tommy and old Mable, especially the long and loving relationship the two shared. So, of course, I was curious about the new acoustic.
“Tommy, what’s the name of your new guitar? I was sure it would be another interesting story.
He turned his whiskered face and answered, “Haven’t named her yet. She’s gotta earn it.”
After taking a few pictures and recording a couple segments of Tommy serenading and smiling at passers-by, I said farewell to the wandering minstrel from McKinney. I shook his talented weathered hand and dropped all the cash I had in the old black guitar case. Who knows when Tommy will be passing this way again?
Toni Andrukaitis 