USE IT UP, WEAR IT OUT, MAKE IT DO OR DO WITHOUT

You’d be surprised how many people have never heard this. I’m not saying we were poor growing up, but I will say this, if we weren’t it’s because my grandparents were thrifty. They were generous people. They gave to their church, took care of the family, and were there for friends and neighbors in need. But they were careful people. They knew value, and they got it.

My grandmother was something of a belle. You know, stylish dresser, never a bad hair day. But she made her dresses out of flower printed feed sacks. Now we would call it Laura Ashley style flowered prints. She did her own hair and  combed it into a loose Gibson before she went out to feed her chickens in the morning. She made a jumper for me out of one of my granddad’s old suits and a “Laura Ashley” blouse to wear with it. I couldn’t have felt better about myself if she had shopped at Saks on Fifth Avenue.

Farmer or not, I’m betting you recycle more than you think you do. Do you squeeze the toothpaste until nothing is left in the tube? Swish a little water in the just emptied can of tomatoes to stretch it for the spaghetti sauce?

Do you know some other smart ideas about how to Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without?  Will you share your ideas? My budget could use a boost.

I’m just sayin’…

Prints

Snagged these prints at St. Peter’s Craft Fair Fundraiser, Cypress TX.

Setting up mobile

Today I was setting up my phone for my blog.  My son helped me as he was learning as well.  His blog is the link below.

Artist

Glorious September

                                           Glorious September    

My new year starts in September, not January. September is filled with hope. This month is alive with new books to read, new friends to make, and new dreams to dream.

When I lived with my grandmother on the farm near Louisville, KY, September was the beginning of horseshows, antique auctions, and stopping at the side of country roads to buy bushels of apples. She always asked about the farmer’s mama, and if the report was that mama was doing poorly the next time we stopped a jar of apple butter or a fresh apple cake was sent up to the house. That was considered just doing the proper thing. Grandmother was big on doing the proper thing.   

Those apples replaced the summer peach cobblers and became pies topped with thick slices of cheddar cheese, and generous lectures on doing the proper thing. When her old fashioned farm kitchen smelled of cloves and cinnamon, I knew it was the beginning of autumn and soon it would be time to put the farm to bed for the winter.

Living on our ranch in South Texas delays the season by a good month, but this morning we were able to drink our morning coffee on the porch. Until now, it was way too hot by seven in the morning, and I admit I’ve turned into a real sissy. Even the tack room is air conditioned. I told my husband it was to keep the humidity from ruining expensive tack. Hey, it’s true. Partially.   

People who live on the land live by the change of seasons. Last March, when my husband was asked the time, I heard him reply, “Jody’s been sleeping in the barn for a month. It must be foaling season. That makes it about March or April.”

It’s a good way to live. Who needs watches anyway?

What does September mean to you?  Anything special?

I’m just sayin’…

 

 

 

 

                                              MOVING TO TEXAS? 

Are you moving to Texas? A lot of people are. We have jobs down here. Don’t worry. You’ll be welcome. Texans are a friendly bunch. They can’t help it. It’s programed in their genes.

You’ll be looking for a house, right? A couple things to think about here. Never buy a house next door to a neighbor with kudzu. It was a gift from Japan that has gotten completely out of hand. You’ll never be able to go on another vacation not even for a long weekend away from home. That vine will creep over to your garden and suffocate everything in sight. I don’t even let my dog out in the mornings until I see a safe spot for him to do his business.

We pride ourselves on doing everything the easy way. You can buy bait at the same store you get your hair cut and the oil changed on your car, but you don’t want to buy lunch there. Speaking of food, do not. I repeat, do not buy anything to eat from a vending machine. It gets hot fast down here, and a tuna salad sandwich can go bad in an hour. Real bad.  

Leaving the Rust Belt for the Bible Belt can be a jolt. First thing you’ll notice is everyone asks you where you go to church, not if you go, but where you go. They’re just being friendly and want you to feel at home. If you don’t claim some strong religious affiliation, beware! You’ll be converted and singing in the choir by next Sunday.

You probably know this already, but I’ll go ahead and mention it anyway. Don’t be making fun of our good ‘ol boys. You might hear us doing just that, but that’s our right, not yours. Besides, that cowboy in the jeans with a snuff can in his back pocket may own a ranch the size of Massachusetts.

Don’t worry if you can’t understand us when we talk. We can’t understand you either.

You’ll get the hang of it, right fast. I did. No, I wasn’t born here, but I got here as fast as I could.

All y’all come on down. You’ll be right welcome!

I’m just sayin’…

                                      

                                   Simplify, simplify, simplify

 

      Simplify? I’m trying Mr. Thoreau. I’m trying. Really. It’s not easy. We’ve been in this house for only seventeen years, but it’s the longest we’ve ever lived anywhere, and the clutter is piling up. Pretty soon we will be asked to appear on that show about hoarders. That bad.

      I have to admit, it’s not all my husband’s fault. Although I happen to believe his stuff is junk, and my things are rare and important objects of art. Okay, maybe not.

      What we’re trying to do is consider each thing we own and decide if it’s really necessary. Is it useful? Does it make our lives better? Would we miss it if it disappeared?

      William Morris, the leader of the arts and crafts movement away from Victorian bric-a-brac toward good design, suggested we rid our homes of everything that is neither useful nor beautiful.

      Some things we own are neither beautiful or useful. We have antique dining room furniture I bought in Buenos Aires many years ago.  We have no dining room. It’s not really useful now, but I intend to keep it. That’s that. End of discussion.

My Air Force pilot husband bought swords and spears from all over the world. They are now stored in our attic where they’ve been for years. He doesn’t remember where they’re from, and I never knew. They have to go. My husband retired from the military years ago. His uniforms still hang in the closet. Are they beautiful? No. Are they useful? Hardly. Would I ask him to get rid of them? Never. 

I admit my rescue terrier isn’t very useful. Most people would not consider her beautiful. Does she have to go? Over my dead body.

I unloaded a set of china on my daughter-in-law. Oops! Sorry Teresa. I graciously bestowed a set of china to my children. *Cough. Cough* Now, if I could just interest them in this dining room furniture.

Any suggestions? How do you simplify? Is it even possible?

I’m just saying…

Mama and Aristotle

I have to give my mama credit; she had tons of good advice. Of course, I didn’t listen to a word she said. Now that I’m all grownup, at least physically, I understand how these little gems of every day life can get us through the big tough times. For one thing, she always said to make it a habit to do the little things right.

Aristotle said, “We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence is not an act, but a habit.” And you didn’t think I knew who Aristotle was. Well, it just so happens I do. He has that Greek restaurant on Main Street with the fabulous salads where my Tuesday Lunch and Book Club meets every other Wednesday.

Here’s one little gem I’m going to pass on to you. You don’t ever want to leave the house with dishes in the sink. Sure as you do, you’ll have an accident and a nice policeman, the one who is married to a cousin twice removed on your mama’s side, will have to carry you home. He’ll see that mess you left, and he won’t say a word to your face. But I can guarantee your mama will call within the hour and tell you she knows about how you’ve just let yourself go.

Next thing you know, you’ll hear about your cousins getting together for lunch down at Aristotle’s to plan an intervention.

It’s real easy to avoid all that talk going on behind your back. Hide those dirty dishes in the dishwasher. It’s that easy, and you don’t actually have to turn it on. That’s the beauty of having a nice modern kitchen.

I think I need to clarify something. When I said carry, I didn’t actually mean that nice policeman will physically carry you home. Down here, it just means to bring. Such as: I have to carry mama to her Thursday night bingo.

This is different from someone saying, “Ruby Jean just carried on and on about Linda Sue wearing white pumps before Easter. I thought it was kind of tacky, too, but it certainly was not worth throwing a hissy fit over.

I think we just have to consider the source here. Ruby Jean is probably the one who instigated that uncalled for intervention on my behalf about the dishes in the sink. She’s always been just a tad jealous of my sisters and me, and we have never said an unkind word about her. After all, she can’t do a thing about that cellulite. Bless her heart.

Hey, surely I’m not the only one who has cousins like that. Come on, tell all. Post it right here so we can commiserate.

I’m just sayin’…