Mr. Wardell is the man who has been coming to help Unc with the trot line twice a day. For now, though, they are going to wait for the weather to cool off so the bigger catfish will start coming up from the bottom of the pond.

I don't know the name of this particular variety of figs, but they have a white flesh and are very sweet. They also are very large.

Unc has made just nine pints of fig preserves this summer, but it does not take many of these big figs to make a pint of preserves.

He makes them very sweet with lots of added sugar.  Too sweet for my preference, but since Unc is the primary person to eat fig preserves around here, he should be able to make them anyway he wants to make them.

In the years our fig trees produce well (not this year), we share with Miss Dollie and Mr. Wardell and others, and we put up enough fig preserves to share with family and friends. Some years, Unc makes Strawberry Fig Preserves. If you need a recipe, I will be happy to share one with you.

My favorite way to eat figs? Fresh from the tree, warm from the sun. Copie, my first Border Collie from childhood, loved to eat ripe figs as well! She was good at catching them mid air from an impressive distance! Smart dog!

I just love the lemon peel peeking at me in the last picture!

The pottery is by a guy named Freeland, and I bought it in Alabama at an outdoor art festival. The other piece of his work that I have is serving as the vase for the Pink Naked Ladies.

So, here I am editing photos of some of Unc's Hidden Treasure Discoveries with my left hand, while watching Baby's Day Out (1994). That is such a magical movie. We MUST buy it on DVD! Strangely enough, it is not giving me baby fever.

Sweet, thoughtful Gordon changed the sheets on the bed after lunch and would not let me do anything to help. Then he put me in my own version of a wifey playpen...the oversized bed tray with laptop computer, television remote, couple of telephones and my cell phone. To make sure I could not crawl out of my playpen, he called the Westies up on the bed to lay around me, on top of my blankie.  See? There would be no way I could extricate myself from this bed while Gordon ran to town to pick up medicine and a couple of items Mama needed.

That is ok, the movie is keeping me tucked securely in this bed this afternoon! Fred Thompson, playing an FBI agent just told his driver, "McClusky, radio the other cars that we are turning around to go to the Tic Tock and get the Boo Boo."  ROFLOL 

It has been 14 years since this movie came out. I wonder what the little tyke looks like now and if he is still in movies. The kid had an amazing repertoire of expressions!

"You're surrounded," Fred Thompson just called out on his megaphone, "Throw down the Boo Boo (book) and come out with your hands up." 

What can I say?  Pain meds make me easy to entertain, I guess.

So while the movie distracts me from this right arm that is paying me back for exercising it too much yesterday (OUCH!), I'll tell you about a couple of Unc's Found Treasures in the category of burl.

What is burl, I hear you asking? Well, it is a wart like growth on a tree, usually around the roots or base of the tree. Burl inlay in furniture is highly prize and expensive. Burl veneer is, as far as I can understand, cut in a long paper thin sheet around and around the wood wart (burl). Think curly fries.

Then that veneer is painstakingly glued to the surface of the furniture, lending its extraordinary pattern to the furniture.  I saw a picture of an antique bed recently that reminded me of the burl veneer set my friend Eloise had, handed down through the generations. If I can find that picture again, I will come back and post it here.

This burl that  Unc found at the base of a Sweet Gum tree, was attached in just two places. The third picture shows where the tree was attached to the burl outgrowth.

Unc saw a turtle in this knobby growth. A few slices of his pocket knife, and a turtle magically emerged!

Jenna Z and I had a fun email conversation about turtles recently when I was blogging about Unc's trot line catching some turtles. Her mom takes in turtles and feeds them in the pond on their farm. The rescued turtles apparently won't stay for the free meals. Hey, Jenna, you will have to be on the lookout for a burl bump that would make a nice turtle!

The second burl treasure Unc has saved recently looks something like a little mole or vole. If Unc carved down the tail part and shortened the legs, it would be a dead ringer. From another angle, it looks rather like a sea lion sunning itself.

Like a master diamond cutter who studies a diamond for months before cutting it, Unc is not yet ready to carve on this cypress treasure!

Then the other night while flipping through our latest issue of Traditional Home (September, 2008), I saw an article on burl bowls!

Leigh and Leslie Keno twins, of Antiques Roadshow fame, apparently are really into bowls made from burl wood. The magazine article even shows a bowl they tried to carve as youngsters.

If the cherry wood my uncle gave me to start carving my dough bowl  at the first of the year was tough to carve, imagine how hard burl wood would be! I can see why those boys didn't finish their own burl bowl!

Considering I can barely lift a pencil with my right arm, it may be a while before I can lift a hammer to finish carving out my dough bowl. Unc MUST have thought it would be funny to see me struggle with hard maple for my first dough bowl!

Don't you wish a mole or a wart on you were as highly prized as a burl outgrowth on a tree?

One of those dough bowls in the article fetched more than $100,000 at auction.

Unc built this taller, wider, deeper, stronger bed tray out of some left over plywood. In hindsight, it was a funny planning session, measuring length with room for a dog or two curled up under the tray.

Taller with higher clearance because of how I prop up in bed with our umpteen pillows. Measured exactly where I could prop my forearm and wrist on a flax pillow to work on porcelain or type. I already knew how long it had taken to recovered from that terribly broken arm and the long muscle/tendon/ligament repair time. This had to be built to spec!

It is unfinished plywood right now, but I am thinking of painting it a Robin's Egg Blue...a tough lacquered finish! Then I have already thought of sewing a cover that will have little pockets for remotes, phones, pencils, note paper, etc.

I love my custom bed tray. Unc cut the legs at an angle to make the tray more stable. It is wider and longer on the top than the traditional bed tray.  When I have use of both arms, I promise to show it all to you plus measurements.

Already, I can imagine doing a million things on it while propped up in bed.

For now, I have used this bed tray to work on the 1836 piece jigsaw puzzle on my computer, using just my left arm. Thankfully the pain meds have made me sleep much more than usual.

When I want to type, either I type with just my left hand...too frustratingly slow for my temperament, or I prop my wrist, part of my hand and part of my forearm up on the flax pillow in the picture to help isolate those muscles and not involve the wrenched, stressed, pulled, yanked, possibly-torn-a-little-tendons at the site of that old icky spiral break.

Obviously I am improving because I have typed more today. After folding small clothing items yesterday (undies, dishtowels, washcloths, socks) my right arm hurt dreadfully most of the night. As twisted as this sounds, I know last night's pain foreshadowed progress in healing. Today I have more stamina in the right arm for low range of motion actions like this typing.

Gordon would not let me fold any clothes today, but I found some other light housework things to do with my left arm, gently assisted by my right arm. If I tell you what I did, Gordon will read this and prohibit me from doing it again tomorrow. He is everywhere, watching everything I do!

Muscles tell me it is time to stop typing. Going to start doing porcelain tomorrow, right here on this over sized bed tray. REALLY looking forward to it. I'm bored with TV and jigsaw puzzles. It has been rainy so much the past 10 days that our satellite Internet access has been greatly impaired!

It makes me very humble when I think of people who lose an arm or both arms, or lose muscles on those arms. I feel so very thankful and protected by God...This fall could have resulted in many worse injuries!!

These are Amaryllis belladonna, commonly called Naked Ladies because the bloom stalks pop out of the ground without any foliage.

The Latin name of the white spider lily is now listed with yesterday's post.

Another potter from Alabama made this vase. I'll tell you about him later.

Tried to fold some small clothes today like socks, undies and dish towels. My arm is not happy with me tonight, but I think it was necessary to stress those tendons a little in order to make them get busy and heal.

"A cascade of healing" is what  it is called.

Gordon has been keeping my spirits up, reporting on That Young Lady Who Wears Nothing But a Fur Coat and her latest conquest (a mouse).

Elvis was snuggled against me as close as he could get to my right side last night. He was covered with a quilt, so Annie just stretched out on top of Elvis and a little on top of my stomach and went to sleep. Elvis did not seem to mind. Mackie had taken position on my left side and Lillibeth was between my ankles. Those little sweeties!

They lick my bruises as more and more bruises show up from the fall. I did not know dogs would do that.

Will try to write more tomorrow. Lots to share with you!

Hugs,
Pen

Later: I found the Latin name for these White Spider Lilies, Hymenocallis occidentalis.

I would write more, but this is as far as my right arm will take me. Lots and lots to share with you. God had to get me in a place where I could do nothing but LISTEN to Him.

Pottery vase is Peter's Pottery out of Marigold, Mississippi.  I'll post separately about it when I can type some more.

Arm is making slow but tangible progress. Many thanks for your concern and prayers. Wish I had the stamina to answer each of you personally.

Just wait til I can tell you some of the sweet stuff about Gordon.

Gordon has been an angel! All I can type for now.

Your comments, emails and such have kept me uplifted. Thank you

Penny is still experiencing pain in her upper right arm and shoulder but is slowly getting better every day.  She woke up this morning hurting pretty bad but is feeling somewhat better.  We called the doctor today so she could renew some pain medication. The westies continue their around-the-clock nursing of Mama Penny.  They have been glued to her since this ordeal began.

Speaking of the rain, I am also keeping a close eye on the storm over in Florida.  I keep hearing that it's eventually going to turn west and park itself over the southeast.  That means a lot of flooding rains and the crops don't especially need that.  It's been an unusually wet summer for Mississippi.  Normally, it's an outdoor sauna during these months and we haven't missed that at all!

The voting continues for naming the Podcast.  Pennycast or Penny's Party Line?  Once Penny begins to get her feet under her again, we will do much more podcasting.  I have been rubbing her arm and shoulder and using a hand-held massager to help increase the blood flow to the areas and just to help her feel better.

Keep those comments coming as well as your thoughts and prayers. 

Time to administer another pain medicine (chocolate ice cream) for the wife!

Hubby

She still needs her left hand and arm to move her right arm about. We know she will regain full motion in her right arm, but it will take a while. 

Thanks for all of your comments and emails asking about her.  Please keep those thoughts and prayers coming.  I am making sure that she does not overdo it as she is apt to try and get something accomplished no matter how small or insignificant. 

After sleeping most of Saturday and Sunday, she feels better about her forced inactivity, and I think she is finally allowing herself some much needed rest.  As I mentioned in an earlier post, Penny is a very hard worker, and it is difficult for her to pull back and rest.  In Alabama, Penny became used to a life of deadlines everyday, and that helped mold her to the person she is now. 

Thanks also for your comments about Penny's first podcast.  It was a lot of fun for the both of us.  We plan on doing more as Penny's health improves.  As for calling it either a "Pennycast or Penny's Party Line", the voting continues so please let us know what you think. She has another podcast ready to record, but she has been too tired and in too much pain to record it.

As I type this, all of the four legged nurses are on duty.  All are parked around her as if to say, "Mama Penny, we're going to nurse you back to health". :)  Penny of course loves their nursing instinct, and i think they have helped her feel better too.  Annie and Mackie especially love getting close to her, and I think they can sense that Penny needs their comforting bodies snuggling against her.  Mackie loves walking up on her side and licking her face.  Elvis will maneuver into the crook of her elbow and lay his head in between her upper arm and side and then look up at her with his doe eyes. Lillibeth usually lays between us so as to make sure she gets our collective attention.

All in all, Penny is getting better......slowly...with a little less pain each day.  I just don't want her to rush her recovery only to re-injure those tendons and ligaments just as her arm is starting to heal.  I will continue to post updates to let all of you know how she is doing.  And for all of you waiting on the next podcast......stay tuned!

Hubby (Gordon)

I finally managed to get Penny's first podcast uploaded. Simply click on the play button to listen.  Let us know what you think and thanks so much for your patience!
Hubby
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Penny can't type or use her right arm right now, but she can still talk! Believe me! HA!

I'll upload her voice post, a podcast, before the afternoon thunderstorm hits us.

Hubby Gordon

A few years ago, NFL referee Phil Luckett made headlines all across the sports world by calling a coin toss wrong.  For those of you non-football fans, before each game, the officials toss a coin for each team captain to choose heads or tails to choose which team gets the ball first.  He thought he heard one thing and the player said another.  Controversy was soon to follow.

Todays events made me recall Mr. Luckett's bad luck.

While in the bathroom, my beautiful wife took a hard fall.  She slipped on the wet floor and fell face forward, hurting her right arm, shoulder and knee.  She didn't break anything, but she is in a lot of pain.  Her right arm has tendon and ligament damage, and she cannot lift or move that arm without hep. Both hands and wrists are sore.  She is not able to type, but she can playing her jigsaw puzzle on the laptop.

Like the coin that is her namesake, Penny came up tails in this nasty fall, the second in as many weeks!  All kidding aside, she will be okay...it will take time for the tendon and ligament damage to heal, allowing her full range of motion in her right arm.  She is in bed now, arm  and legs propped up and ice pack on her right arm. Her right knee retained the imprint of tile for more than 24 hours. It had a deep compression bruise from the previous fall, and this fall just put more injury on top of that first injury. 

The Westie nurses are all crowded around her trying their best to absorb all of the hurts and pains.  They will be working overtime to make sure Mama Penny gets better.  Mackie is resting on her left shoulder, curled up near her head.  Lilibeth is between Penny and me, and Elvis and Annie are snuggled at her feet.  After her fall, her Uncle made a wooden "breakfast tray" for the bed so that Penny could prop up the laptop before her and check email and play her jigsaw puzzle with her left hand. 

As I mentioned, she can only type with her left hand, but she can check email and this blog.  I've mentioned to her that we could start doing podcasts until her hand, arm and shoulder heal.  She is open to the idea, and with her news background, her voice is a natural.  I think you all might enjoy "hearing" from her and I know she would enjoy doing it.  We will see what can be done in the next few days.  In the meantime, the weekend will be here tomorrow, and she can relax with the pups.  Her hubby will make sure she has the care she needs. 

Penny works hard, and she is used to deadlines.  My biggest challenge in all of this is to make sure she gets the proper rest and doesn't fret about things.  Thank goodness the housekeeper/cook for the Big House where Penny's mother and uncle live is feeling well enough to come back to work this coming Monday. 

As you may recall by reading this blog, Miss Dollie was hit by a van in a Wal-mart parking lot a few months ago.  Coincidentally, her right shoulder was hurt as well and we think it is her rotator cuff that was injured.  She can barely lift her right arm so high.  In her absence Penny and I have taken up the slack with doing the housework, cooking, cleaning, folding clothes, etc., for her mother and uncle.

Penny has also been helping her Uncle shell peas from the garden.  I have been cooking supper the last few nights.  Chicken tenders with white pepper gravy and country biscuits. MMMMMM good!

In the meantime, I'm taking care of my wounded wife.  I gave her something earlier that I KNOW will take care of the pain......(((((((((((chocolate ice cream!))))))))))) LOL.

I will keep all of you apprised of her progress on the road back to recovery.  I will also make sure she doesn't try her imitation coin toss again.  Two falls is two weeks is too many! 

Please keep her in your thoughts and prayers that she will have a speedy recovery. There are urgent porcelain orders that cannot be finished without Penny's hands, especially her right arm and hand!

Hubby.

I'm pretty sure this is Becky Crisswell of Calera, AL, who shows up in a Google search as displaying her work in Oxford, as lately as 2007. She shows up with Susan Brown Freeman in 2007 as one of the honored artists by the Alabama State Council on the Arts.

Hey, at least I seem to be attracted to the potters who go on to make a good name for themselves! Maybe some reader from Oxford who is into pottery can help me find the current address, phone, email or website for Becky Crisswell.

My often repeated phrase that we all know by heart by now:  "I want to buy more of her work!"

Look at her signature. Don't you think her maiden name is "Boltin"?

I just love the catfish motif on the lid, and I have used this casserole to serve various food, but I have not baked in it.

I'm sure it is bake proof and dishwasher proof as most pottery is these days, but I want to hand wash my pieces. It is like petting a fur coat...an irresistible impulse!

Many of you have shared photos or names of potters you collect. You are driving me crazy in the same way it feels when Gordon strokes my hair or when, as a child, Mama combed the hair at the nape of my neck with her fingers during quiet times. A delicious, tingly, drive you crazy sensation!

Please keep those comments, emails, potter names and pottery photos coming!

For those who are not into this Pottery Passion, I promise we are about 55 percent finished with photographs of my collection. I'll start intermingling the posts with something different. *wink*

No one has complained. I just know hand thrown or hand made pottery is not everyone's "thing".

Sewing and quilting and Westies will also return to this blog, I assure you. We are still pushing on two specific pottery deadlines, so I feel guilty if I take time to sew.

Did you see these other blog posts about potters whose work I collect?
Tab Boren, Mantachie, MS
Susan Brown Freeman, Birmingham, AL
Darlene Clifton Keith, Mentone, AL
Fran Myers, Summerville, GA
Mississippi Mud Works, Ocean Springs, MS.
Pottery with the Mark of Zoro, bought in Enterprise, AL

The flavor of the pond must be in the white flesh of the fish. We are careful to buy only Mississippi pond-raised catfish, but even those store-bought Mississippi catfish fillets don't have this home-raised flavor. Maybe it is the lack of time from pond to oven. We bake our catfish most of the time.

These were the two we had Sunday for my mother's 86th birthday. More about her birthday after Gordon scans and I edit a few more pictures.

There are now two trot lines stretched across the pond nearest the farmhouse. Unc and Mr. Wardell check it every day, and they re-bait the hooks every day. Unc says the catfish hit the bait and the hooks better at night, so they try to check the trot lines in the morning and re-bait the hooks in late afternoon.

I've lost track of the number of small catfish they have caught.

Unc wants only to eat 1.5 pound or greater catfish. I like 1 pound or larger.

Mr. Wardell has gotten most of the fish they have caught so far on the trot lines. Some they have thrown back to grow a bit more.

One baited fish hook was straightened out which means a large catfish was stuck on that hook for a while.  Unc, a lifelong fisherman, says it must have been a 6 to 8 pound catfish at minimum to have straightened out that hook in the process of escaping.

None of the catfish has gone to waste. We let the dogs eat the internal organs and chew on the heads. There is a sharp spike in the dorsal fin that we do not let the dogs have because it might puncture something. The fur kids are making a fast transition of boiled catfish heads and internal organs to the raw version.

I wonder if catfish tell each other to "watch out for those trick tidbits of chicken skin or venison chunks that hang tantalizingly in the water in two locations? The men are catching more and more cat the longer the trot lines are out and baited. The last few overcast days, i.e. cooler weather, may have helped too. There were seven cat on the hooks today compared to just two on Sunday.

In Mississippi at least, you will often hear Catfish shortened to "cat" once the conversation is on the topic of fishing.

Unc has an age old trick of making the catfish "talk". We will try hard to capture that "lost" talent on video to share with you. Watching Unc "talking" to the catfish he had just caught absolutely fascinated me as a child! I still love to see him do it!

Oh, one more thing. If you see "Farm Raised Catfish" in your grocery store, read the fine print. The "Farm" may be in Brazil or some other country. Because of the danger of toxins and disease, you definitely want American-raised catfish.

Mississippi produces the most catfish of any state, coming in at 243 million dollars income in a 425 million dollar industry. Raising catfish is the largest of all the aquaculture industries in the US.

(Now you did not think I was going to let this topic go by without bragging on my beloved state, did you? *wink*)

I bought this piece, one of my favorites in my collection, at Gallery 2 in Enterprise, AL, sometime before 1991. I remember falling in love with this piece and frantically hoping they would not sell it before I had purchased their few pieces of Susan Brown Freeman that I just could not live without, especially that centerpiece bowl!

I kept the card with this potter's name for a long time, stored in the piece of pottery.  Over time, as I grabbed this favorite piece off of the shelf to use for flowers or utensils or peas or so many, many more serving uses, I failed to put the card back in the pottery basket.  So now, I don't know who made this piece or where I can find his studio or more of his work.

The signature and my memory tell me this was made by a man, but I may be wrong. I'm pretty sure Gallery II only sold pottery made by potters in residence in Alabama, so Potter "Zoro" is probably, hopefully, still throwing pots somewhere in Alabama.

If you can read his signature or if you are familiar with this potter, PLEASE let me know. I very much want more of his work! (Hmmmnnn, have I not said that about every potter I have shown you so far?)

That wonderful gift shop in Enterprise, AL, devoted to pottery and art glass, Gallery II, is no longer in existence, I fear. I have tried to find mention of the shop online, to no avail.

If you happen to know where the shop moved or if you know Mary and Ed Goff, the owners, please let me know.

I miss those Alabama days when I could leave the stress of the workday at the shop door and walk around that shop, absorbing the work of so many talented artists!. The store was a renovated turn-of-the-century house, and I can just "see" the rooms filled with beautiful pottery and art glass. Happy, happy memories!

Did you see these other blog posts about potters whose work I collect?
Tab Boren, Mantachie, MS
Susan Brown Freeman, Birmingham, AL
Darlene Clifton Keith, Mentone, AL
Fran Myers, Summerville, GA
Mississippi Mud Works, Ocean Springs, MS

The true Black Eyed Pea is larger and can be bought, dried in bags at the grocery store. It seems I have grown up with these delicious little legumes in my life, and I am just now learning the specifics of what they are.

I happen to love shelling peas. In a few days, I'll take a picture of my two thumbs and two pointer fingers with their purple stains, proud proof of our industry. Unc's hard work putting in the garden, tending it, picking the produce, Mama and my shelling services. Unc and Miss Dollie have been putting up the bags of squash.

This 80 quart count of squash does not include the six bags of frozen slices of squash ready to fry for Gordon. I mentioned in an earlier post that we slice the squash thin, freeze the slices on a cookie sheet and then bag up enough slices per bag for the five or six people who eat at our table at noon each day.

Even Gordon got into the Garden Season today yesterday by rinsing and straining the shelled peas, looking for stung peas and bagging the little bites of nourishment. We have 11 quarts of peas so far.

There is a stung pea in this picture. Can you find it? Whatever insect stings peas and leaves a larvae that becomes a worm and then does whatever those worms do, has been hampered by our daily afternoon rain showers. We have not put any poison insecticide on the garden this year.

I could be trendy and say that we wanted totally organic vegetables, but actually, we have been so busy, and the rain every afternoon would have washed off the protective chemical dust.

I took all of this for granted growing up here on the farm. I can see Grandma now, shelling peas so fast, an enamel baking pan in her lap, the cool moist peas scampering out of the purple hulls that unzipped flawlessly for Grandma.

When I lived in Alabama in the 1980's, living in a town with a tiny yard and no garden, I lost track of the seasons.

By that, I mean I lost the sense of new beginning when the soil is prepared for the crops or the garden. That earthy smell that drives one to plant or prune or nurture or transplant like hummingbirds are genetically pre-programmed to return from Mexico to their respective States.
---------
This is as far as I got last night on my blog post musing about the joy of gardens and the psychological need to experience the seasons.

We had 1.7 inches of rain overnight, and our Internet satellite did not have "a clear view of the Southern sky", so I could not upload anything.

More later! Took some pictures of pretty and delicious figs this morning!

Mississippi Mud Works in Ocean Springs, MS, is owned and operated by Jim and Betty Francis. Bravo to them for having a comprehensive website to lure folks like me in as committed fans! Here is the page about the artists.

I adore the colors in this piece!

Do you think it is the same glaze as on this vase in their catalog? Gee, I am such a sucker for vases and pitchers!

Oh, goodie! They have a cake stand! It is priced in the .pdf file called "Tableware Price List" at the bottom of the left side menu.

Now to decide if I want it in the blue gray like the vase linked above or in a lavender glaze like this vase.  (I like the MMW monogram on that lavender vase also.

Now I wonder if this vase is a "Pre Katrina" piece. Along the Coast, we make such designations.

I'll email and ask Jim and Betty what happened to their studio during Katrina.

Did you see these other blog posts about potters whose work I collect?
Tab Boren, Mantachie, MS
Susan Brown Freeman, Birmingham, AL
Darlene Clifton Keith, Mentone, AL
Fran Myers, Summerville, GA

We put up five quarts of squash today, total of 70 quarts in the freezer so far.

Mama and I shelled purple hull peas also known as black eyed peas. I truly love shelling peas.

Here are my 45 year old hands.

Here are Mama's 86 year old hands. She will be 87 on Sunday!

Unc also sliced squash ready to fry, froze the slices on cookie sheets, and bagged the frozen slices to be ready to fry when we want them.

Gordon eats almost no vegetables, but fried squash is one of the veggies he will eat. We will be freezing much more of this!

Unc and Mr. Wardell set up a trot line on one of the ponds this week. They have gotten four small catfish so far that we sent home for Mr. Wardell to enjoy.

The largest one so far has been a pound. I love that size of catfish, baked or fried whole (without the head and guts, of course).

My mouth is watering for catfish fresh from our pond. At least we know our home grown catfish is not contaminated with anything!

The trot line has also caught three turtles that have now been removed from the pond.

It seems we are a couple of weeks ahead of last year's garden.
Probably because of the little afternoon rain showers we have been getting for a few weeks.

Everything is so lush and green right now.
Pretty soon we will be praying for NO rain. Cotton plants like hot dry weather after a certain point.

Sadly, I have only one piece of work from Fran Myers of Summerville, Georgia.

When Gordon and I stayed at a bed and breakfast just across the state line from Mentone, Alabama, this beautiful bowl was one of few pieces for sale.  Apparently they had trouble getting enough of Fran's work. I can understand why!

Photographing this bowl today gave me a marvelous opportunity to study her intricate glaze. It is just beautiful, and I am in love with the subtle colors.

Fran has an email address and phone number here.

There is some information about her here.

I sure hope Fran is still using this glaze combination and technique. I'd sure like more of her work!

Did you see these other blog posts about potters whose work I collect?
Tab Boren, Mantachie, MS
Susan Brown Freeman, Birmingham, AL
Darlene Clifton Keith, Mentone, AL

She was in her favorite spot this afternoon at the bottom of the stairs leading upstairs, looking toward the double front doors. She can watch the front door, watch anything going upstairs or coming downstairs, and she has an easy view of the rest of the hall.

I was shooting a few pottery pictures today...a little more pottery therapy to share with you.  The dogs, as usual, were all around, mostly following me, Charlotte in Mama's lap and Lilllibeth looking for Gordon.

With the front doors open wide to flood the space with natural light that is impossible to replicate, Kelly settled down to guard me and the little Westies.

From the very beginning when we picked out Kelly at the breeder in Weir, Mississippi, Kelly assumed the role of Alpha dog. Her puppy feet bounded over to Unc, as she picked him out to be her very special human. That bond has never wavered.

She has ruled our canine pack for 14 years now, a job that brings with it bites and bruises and sometimes broken skin. Her knees and joints have been bitten so many times by disobedient other English Shepherds who have lived here through the years, that Kelly suffers from quite significant arthritis.

We give her medicine to help her be mobile every day.  When I started learning more about being the Alpha of our pack of dogs, Kelly graciously allowed me to hold that position.  Only in private, if I hugged her from above her back and shoulders, a very dominant position in the dog world, would she give me a low growl that was easily stopped with a simple "shush".

When lightning and thunder made Kelly afraid and vulnerable in the pack's eyes, she would come to me to lay as close to me as possible because, I think, she knew I would protect her Alpha status...and protect her. Then there were times I stood back and trusted her to discipline one of the English Shepherds that was trying to step outside of the role for which she was designated in the pack.

Kelly and I have a special channel of communication. She can come to me when I arrive in the farmhouse in the morning, and with her eyes, she can let me know whether she has had her medicine or whether Unc has forgotten it...again.

Kelly and I don't have the bond that I enjoyed with Delta and Daddles. That seems to be something the dog chooses like Lillibeth with Gordon and Charlotte and Kelly with Unc.

Kelly is completely trustworthy around people, always positioning herself between the stranger and her human(s), meaning Mama, Unc, Gordon, me and including the people who work here on the farm.

I've always completely trusted Kelly's ability to judge people. A low growl from Kelly was enough to tell me that the stranger was not trustworthy. Kelly's opinion has never been wrong.

Only the Alpha dog or the leader of a human pack can know the toll it takes to oversee the other members of the pack, arbitrate the inevitable disputes between pack members, and be on guard always for danger from outside the pack. It is a tough job that leaves visible scars and prematurely ages one.

Today, while I was shooting the pottery, Gordon drew my attention to the interaction between Elvis and Kelly. Elvis could walk under Kelly's stomach, and she just stood there and let him sniff all he wanted. She sniffed a little too and carefully wagged her tail. She did not want to knock him down with her tail, ya know.

At least she has finally decided the little white bouncy furry things are indeed dogs. For a long while, I'd see Kelly watching and studying the little Westies, pondering their mere existence. 

Kelly has seen many new fur faces come into this household, and she has welcomed every one, even those who were a little slow to learn that Kelly is the Alpha dog on this farm, second only to her humans.

Kelly is 14 years old. She won't be with us forever, but I'm making a concerted effort to give her special attention every day. Best case scenario, she will live several more years as long as her pain is manageable.

I wonder how many human relationships in my life have been as faithful, trustworthy, loyal and loving as my relationship with Kelly?

Please tell me about your special pets that have lived past 14 years.

More pictures of Kelly to be added later.

So, lets talk about pretty stuff tonight...more of my beloved pottery collection.

First, I'll share these happy yellow peppers that Unc grew in his garden. They all came from one plant! There were 14 peppers in all on that plant, maturing at the same time, I think he said.

These are not hot peppers. They are sweet. I believe Unc bought them as little plants, so if you know the name of this variety of sweet pepper, please let me know. We would like to grow more next year

In addition to playing with happy yellow peppers today, another good respite was 30 minutes to photograph some of my favorite pottery, some of the first that I collected, by Darlene Clifton Keith.

When I knew her (1983 to 1989 or 1990), she had a studio and store front in Mentone, Alabama. Oh, how I adored and still adore Mentone.

Gordon and I visited Mentone a couple of years ago, and it has become a bit more touristy from when I first discovered it in the mountains of north Alabama.

I'll definitely share a post on those Mentone pictures from two years ago. Maybe one day I can find my pictures from the 1980's.

Good, happy memories of being a single young woman, a news director, in a fascinating place that blended history and fresh economic development with plenty of investment money from the country music group Alabama.

These are definitely pieces thrown on a potter's wheel.

I know some "famous" potters in Mississippi who use non-original molds and pass off their pieces as "hand thrown". I know this for a fact from the distributor who delivered their non-original molds each year. I even have some of their pieces of pottery, but I've not bought any since I learned, quite by accident, where they bought their commercial molds. (Not sure I should tell everything I know about this insider information. There are many people who collect their work.)

I just adore Darlene's hand thrown pots and hand built pieces. I've probably said that a few million times over the years.

The little swirls in the glaze on the inside of my eight soup bowls charms me every time I look at those swirls! This raindrop pattern fascinates me, and as Darlene explained the process to me one time, it is a time consuming process.

I fell in love with the opaque crazed glaze that makes me think of a foggy scene in a Film Noir movie.

Darlene's hand built pieces were some of the later pieces I bought. The serving bowl has a date of October, 1983, on it. That brings back super memories of the ghost story telling event Mentone put on around a bonfire with hay bales all around. It was small and intimate and wonderful. I think the Octoberfest event has grown considerably since then, but my favorite memories of Mentone were made when the little resort destination of the 1920's was not well known in the 1980's.

The hand built platter is dated 1989. I know I bought pieces from Darlene even after I moved to Enterprise, AL.

There will have to be another blog post to show you more pieces of Darlene Clifton Keith's work!

When Gordon and I were in Mentone two years ago, Darlene's store front was some other kind of shop, and no one seemed to know where she was. One "native" said she thought Darlene had moved to Fort Payne, AL, and was on the city council.

If you know Darlene Clifton Keith, please help me get in touch with her. Her husband was a graphic designer.

I've been so inspired by Darlene and her work...and I would like to send her a piece of my porcelain as a little thank you for all the joy she has given me through the years via her beautiful pottery!

Ever since Molly, Gordon has bought me a Mother's Day present since I am absolutely a Fur Mom of Fur Children.

My choice was to start collecting these Sherratt and Simpson resin figurines of Westies. The Westie seems to be quite a popular dog for merchandising, and I have saved some photos of some porcelain Westie figurines I would like to have one day.

The first Mother's Day after we got Molly, this was the little figurine to commemorate my Mother's Day.

By the second Mother's Day, our lives were blessed with Annie and Mackie. Rebel had blessed our lives very briefly between Mother's Days.

This third year, Gordon bought this great figurine from an eBay seller in the UK (the photo with three Westies).

The package was slow, slow to arrive, after all, it had to swim the Atlantic. We always choose less expensive surface mail when I have an option. Anticipation is a major factor in the enjoyment of a gift isn't it?

When the thoughtful and efficient seller asked if we were happy with the purchase, Gordon had to tell him that the figurine had not yet arrived. Unknown to us, the seller immediately sent out another figurine. It arrived, and within a week, the missing figurine arrived as well.

So we had two of these charming figurines.

I asked the seller what he wanted to do about the redundant figurine. It made no sense to pay to ship it back to the UK. That would be shipping to Mississippi and shipping back from MS that would be totally wasted money.

I suggested that if he could wait until the next month, I would pay for the second figurine and donate it to raise money for Westie Rescue.

This very gracious seller just donated it to be sold to raise money for Westie Rescue. I thought that was so very, very thoughtful and wise!

The figurine has been sent to Vickie Claflin now of Maryland Westie Rescue. She is the great lady who fostered Annie and Rebel and Mackie. She now has her own blog about some of the Westies she has helped rescue in the past.

She will be offering the figurine for sale at one of the fund raising events Maryland Westie Rescue attends. You may remember that Maryland Westie Rescue recently rescued 31 Westies from a puppy mill, and Vickie was right in the middle of it!

You think Sherratt and Simpson makes a figurine with five Westies in the composition? That is how many little white balls of fur we have at present, and there are so many more excuses between now and next Mother's Day to find gifts for Gordon to give me...He, He, He.

At the moment, I can't find the seller's ebay auction page. I'll have to come back and share it with you here. I've found the emails we exchanged.

Grrrr, it bugs me when I can't find something that I know is right under my nose!

Less than 30 minutes ago:

Penny: "Honey, Thank you SO much for doing most of the work of changing the sheets!"

Gordon: "Well, you've got me spoiled!"

Penny: '"Huh? Whatdayamean?

Gordon: "Well, you've gotten me so darned spoiled by us putting on clean sheets all the time that I can't stand to sleep on sheets that are more than a week old."

Penny goes into shock for a few seconds, makes appropriate appreciative purring sounds to hubby, and races to the computer to put this conversation down in type before she can forget a single word! This was a moment to savor!

Well, talk about a marvelous ending to a rollercoaster day! Gordon also washed the dishes and is washing sheets as I write this. He started the kiln a little while ago, so we will be able to ship a package tomorrow. He even rubbed lotion on my feet because I'm as sore as an NFL football player at the end of the season.

Thankfully, Gordon is feeling MUCH better as his staph carbuncles dry up and begin to go away. OH, and he washed all four of the dogs down here this afternoon while I slept.

Here is how the day started:

1. Phone rang for the farmhouse. We have that line down here also. Mama called on our line and said the sitter who was sitting with our nearest neighbor, an elderly invalid, had gotten lost in the woods. The neighbor husband said it was an EMERGENCY and he needed to talk to Unc.

Confusion and delay between Mama and Unc. By the time Unc got to the phone either the neighbor had hung up, or Unc accidentally hung up on him.

2. Unc said he was heading over to the neighbor's house to see what is going on. He walked out of the farmhouse WITHOUT his cell phone, leaving my mother in a frenzy.

Granted Unc cannot hear the cell phone when he does have it with him, but he sometimes notices it vibrating when we call him on it. Then he has a very difficult time hearing what we are saying on the cell phone, but at least we have that method of kinda-sorta getting in touch with him.

3. Unc exited the scene, and we could not find him for the next three hours. Mama called to the studio and relates the long version of "Sitter of neighbor wandered away, lost in woods, Charles (Unc) has gone to help find her. There is a strange vehicle in the yard."

4. Gordon leapt into action. If a strange car is in the yard, does that mean they have pulled up over the yard to the front door to load up stolen goodies? With Unc's van gone, there would be no vehicles parked at the front of the house to let would-be-thieves know that people are in the house.

My mind raced through the possibilities: My 86 year old frail mother was now all alone in the farmhouse, and someone had probably broken in on her and could harm her. Dogs were by then barking in the house and in the studio which could mean danger is on the property or it could mean that they are picking up on all the human angst.

5. Gordon returned to say Mama was ok. No house invasion underway. Unknown car parked in front parking area, not on the yard. He did not recognize it. He had driven by neighbor's house, to the hunting cabin and all around the farm and he could not find Unc's van anywhere.

6. I asked Gordon to leave a note under the strange car's windshield wiper, asking them to check with us before they leave, and then I asked him to check the pond to be sure someone had not come into fish illegally on one of our ponds since they did not see any vehicles parked in our driveway.

We are SO far in the sticks that if someone is on our driveway, either they are coming to see us, or they are a delivery man, or they are lost, or they are up to no good. We have to stay alert.

7. All this time, Mama was calling me every few minutes while I tried to locate the other neighbors or the farmers of neighboring farms who might be out checking livestock on their farms this morning. We still needed to find Unc who was not answering his cell phone. I had not had time to determine if he even had his cell phone with him because I was shackled to the phones for incoming calls and the few calls I managed to get out

I was trying to get away from the phones to get up to the farmhouse to be with Mama (who has had two previous strokes and was very agitated over this situation. From the fall Friday, my back is quite messed up, bruised ribs and sternum, shoulder hurting, huge contusions on both shins, so I was not very mobile today. Gordon was trying to be in two or three places at once, still looking for Unc.

We were approaching the scorching heat of noon. We don't know how old the missing sitter is, but anyone of any age would be in danger of heat stroke in the heat today. It is like a sauna out there. We can't find out from the elderly neighbor if they have called the sheriff's office, and she does not know where her husband has gone.

I was equally worried that Unc would be hiking in the heavily wooded areas around the neighbor's house, and at age 82, he does not need to be out in this heat. Plus, he has fallen a few times this year, and if he was not wearing his glasses, which he rarely does, he would not see limbs to trip over. He would not see or hear snakes, fire ant mounds etc.

8. Fast forward to the happy conclusion of the drama. The lady was found. She had a male companion with her. She was trying to get to some property that belonged to her family. She did not know the area very well and was not experienced in walking in the woods.

Unc had met the neighbor husband on his way out of the door of the farmhouse. He never even thought about his cell phone or thought to tell Mama it was the neighbor's vehicle parked in the front of the house. He and the neighbor were the only one who knew the sitter had come out to walk around on land her family owned, and they knew where her car was parked.

Unc and the neighbor drove down a secluded cemetery road where the sitter's vehicle was parked, and Unc started blowing the horn of the van. They stopped at the deserted cemetery and listened, blew the horn some more, and listened...and heard the sitter and her companion calling back.

The missing sitter and her companion were ok. Very hot and thirsty, well on the way to that heat stroke, but ok. They were so turned around and scared that it took a while for them to follow the sound of the car horn to get to Unc and the neighbor.

Unc returned the neighbor to his car parked in our driveway about the same time Gordon returned from another search for Unc around the farm. Gordon privately fussed at Unc about not taking his cell phone which is like telling a tomato worm to leave the tomato leaves alone.

Gordon and I called the people we had contacted to let them know all was ok and a search party would not be needed.

I am very thankful for neighbors willing to drop everything to help in an emergency. Some of these land neighbors live in nearby towns, but they would have been out here in the country helping look for the missing woman.

I am very thankful Unc is of the moral character that he dropped everything to head to the neighbor's house to see what he could do to help...see if they had called the authorities.

I am very thankful and proud that Unc thought of blowing the van horn as the way of locating the missing people. His actions saved them from certain heat stroke and possible further medical problems. They could have gotten very, very lost, very, very easily.

I am very thankful for Xanax which I took as soon as I returned from the farmhouse to the peace and quiet of the studio to have my little nervous breakdown. I never took medicine before moving back to the farm after Daddy died.

At 82 and 86, Mama and Unc remember only what they used to be able to do, not what their age and health limits them from doing. Gordon and I have to meet them where they are mentally, physically and emotionally, and try to keep them safe.

I am very very thankful for a husband who is willing to be such an involved part of allowing Mama and Unc stay here on the farm. Gordon has demonstrated extraordinary patience and understanding.

By allowing them to live in the same environment with slowly decreasing responsibilities, they feel needed and wanted, which should translate to living longer in a happier state of mind.

As for Gordon and me, this will be funny in a month or two. It is another chapter in the screen play or the book I will have to write one day to purge myself of the angst. Episodes like this are strengthening our ability to handle crazy topsy-turvy emergencies. Gordon and I have lots we can learn from their many years of life experiences.

Days like this make Gordon and me appreciate the little things like snuggling with clean dogs on clean sheets.

The bird nest pictures are from this year and 2003. A little house wren built a next INSIDE the tractor. Unc mowed for about 3 hours one day a week or so ago before he saw the nest. Those little eggs had been away from their mama for a long time. We parked the tractor and have not used it until the little birds hatch and fly away.

Unc reports the eggs are gone. He did not see any egg shells on the ground (but then he might not have been wearing his glasses). Hopefully the baby birds hatched and flew away. I hope nothing got the eggs to eat.

Back in 2003, a wren had built a next on the porch, and I unknowingly dumped nest and baby birds on the ground when I moved something. Very gently, I scooped the nest up and shaped it into a nest, touching it as little as possible. Then I picked up the baby birds and put them back in the nest and covered it the way it was covered before I disturbed it.

The mother wren was nearby fussing at me with all the might of her tiny little body.

The mother wren came back to the nest and raised those babies, and they flew away. I was so thankful that I had not caused her to reject her babies and nest.

For many years a little wren somehow got into the basement and raised babies. Then she had the very dificult task of getting those babies to follow her out her secret path to the outside. For several years, I would help her catch the babies and took them to the shrubbery outside, or I would leave the door open to the outside so that she had a big open space through which to coax them to leave the nest.

One year, I caught the first baby and took it outside to a big japonica shrub. Mama Wren was chattering away at me and at her babies from a safe perch. The second baby HOPPED INTO MY HANDS for the trip outside. That is an honor and a privilege that I will never forget.

So now, Gordon and I are in the rare position of protecting the human Mama and Uncle and allowing them to continue to enjoy the nest (farm) they worked so hard all their lives to protect. One day we will look back on this season of our life as the honor and privilege that God intends it to be.

Here is my report on patients Penny and Gordon, our humans.

I'm Nurse Annie, ranking medical specialist with Round The Clock Westie Nursing Care, LLC.

Mama Penny fell again this afternoon.

She was really, really tired from the morning and early afternoon up at the farmhouse.

When she walked through the studio door, carrying an armful of stuff...none of it smelled like food, so I don't know why it was so important for her to carry down here...she tripped over the corner of the doggie steps.

It seemed like she fell forever.  The paperwork and the vase with the flower Daddy had picked for her flew everywhere.

Daddy was on the phone with a business call, but he said, "I've gotta go, my wife just fell," and he hung up the phone immediately so that he could help Mama. I'm proud to report that my staff was already on the scene checking out Mama's condition. 

Mama was crying because it hurt, and because she was so tired. She was saying to Daddy that she had spent all the day so far doing things for others, only getting four pieces of porcelain finished, and when she could finally get away to have some peace and quiet, she didn't watch where she was walking and didn't pick her feet up enough to avoid the steps.

When Mama cries, we jump into action. Our highly trained Westie medical skills know just how to treat tears and tired spirits.

Daddy got Mama into bed, and he sprayed some stinky herbal stuff on her knees and wrists and elbows and back and gave her some medicine.

Then we moved in to work our magic.  Lillibeth used hypnosis on Mama to take the pain away. Then she curled up against Mama's back and shared her heating pad with Mama.
Lillibeth has developed a wonderful method of wiggling her nose and blinking her eyes to hypnotize humans into doing everything she wants.

Elvis brought magazines and curled up around Mama's knees.

Elvis keeps talking about being a neurosurgeon like his television hero Jethro Bodine on The Beverly Hillbillies, but, like Jethro, Elvis is a few dog biscuits short of a full biscuit jar, if you know what I mean!

Here he is sporting one of the patriotic dollars Mama got for us to wear around the Fourth of July and other patriotic holidays.

I actually wore that collar first, and if you don't mind me saying so, the collar looked much, much better on me!

I must say that Elvis is looking more and more handsome as his hair grows out...but don't tell him that I said that!

Mackie offered to go catch a rabbit or a little mouse or some other critter for Mama to play with while she rested in bed this afternoon. That might be what would cheer Mackie up if he were having a bad day, but it was not the right medicine for Mama today.

Instead, he collected as many of the new squeaky chipmunks as he could find and put on a squeaky concert for Mama. She asked Daddy for some headache medicine soon after that, but she did not stop Mackie's play time. Later he took a nap with his head propped on Mama's head or neck .

Mama and Daddy recently got us one of those Hide a Squirrel things where we pull a squeaky toy out of different holes in the fuzzy stump. They also got six extra chipmunks or squirrels for backups.

See, when Mackie came to live here, he brought his favorite squeaky toy, a chipmunk that looked just like one of these new ones. Mama named it "Louisiana Lou" because Mackie came to us from Louisiana. Then Mama found some chipmunks and skunks that were similar.

Mackie played with them for a good while, but then they all eventually disappeared. Mama says she thinks Mackie has hidden many of the squeaky toys that he has not torn apart. 

I might be suspicious that another Westie, perhaps jealous of all the attention Mackie was getting or tired of hearing the incessant squeaking may have hidden them herself....but that is just hypothetical, ya know! I also suspect that the nine new chipmunks will continue to disappear until there are none left.

Mama tied a string to the tail of one of the chipmunks so that she and I can play with it...just us. She says it is helping me get over my fear of squeaky toys. I've not been able to tell Mama and Daddy why I have to go hide every time the squeaky toys start to squeak.

Well, Lillibeth has doing her hypnosis thing on Daddy. He is such a sucker for a little blondie like Lillibeth. Daddy is slowly improving from the staph infection, but he is still uncomfortable.

We are working around the clock to keep our humans healthy and happy, but that is what we do here at Round the Clock Westie Nursing Care, LLC.

When there is more to report, I will let you know.
Respectfully,
Head Nurse Annie
PS:  Now that little flirt Lillibeth  is getting petting from Mama AND Daddy at the same time.

I think it is time I moved back in to check Mamas vital signs again, especially if she feels good enough to be petting one of my nurses.

Another thunderstorm is approaching. We've already had three-tenths of an inch this afternoon delivered by some razzle dazzle percussion.

Apparently I was so tired from the morning's normal activities that I fell asleep during the thunderstorm and slept for three hours. Very unusual for me. Sweet Gordon did not wake me. He is so thoughtful about keeping the phones and dogs quiet when I can take a nap and am all tuckered out.

This is my work tray today.

We have a kiln loaded and ready to fire, but Gordon is waiting until this approaching storm passes. I'm thankful he will stay awake to start the kiln. My eyelids are getting very heavy again.

My batteries have just not recharged yet. Still getting work accomplished. Still making porcelain.

Being able to do something creative, right now a little writing and a few stitches of sewing some days, is proving to be a lovely balm.

Six bags of fresh squash put up today. That makes 42 quarts so far. We eat a lot of squash during the winter months. Miss Dollie made some cookies for us to send our adopted soldier tomorrow.

Mama was in good spirits today. Unc was active and happy today. Gordon is entering week two of some nasty staph carbuncles. He had a big outbreak like this about this time last year. Golf ball size carbuncles. Lots of pain and discomfort.

We think he contracted this particular resistant strain of staph following a root canal about two years ago. He has had four or five bouts of this nasty stuff. There are increasing instances of antibiotic-resistant diseases "out there" in the real world.

We're in a business transition, Gordon and I. Part of this transition is pruning from our lives the hobbies or habits or activities that are draining our energy, preventing us from moving to the next phase of our creative lives.

It is so very hard to let go of some things. I'm such a saver, pack rat, save it for a rainy day, enjoyed something but have moved on to other hobbies, etc.

I'll be sharing some funny examples with you and asking for your advice. For now, my eyes are barely staying open. Time for sleep...again.

I do need to apologize for my rant yesterday about the woman in the doctor's office. I should have forgiven her, tried to understand why she was acting that way, and moved on. "Hurting People Hurt Other People" is a phrase of a popular Bible teacher Gordon and I listen to every night. 

All my anger did was drain my emotional and physical batteries even more. I apologize for letting that anger rub off on you.

The rain has started. Feeding the crops, the garden and the timber. Mississippi has so many fresh shades of green right now.  I wish we could share some of this restorative rain with the areas that are burning up with wildfires right now.

Thank you for the comments from that last post. It moves me to read what moves you from my writing.

Transparency is scary, but when you, the readers, respond to a particularly transparent blog post, your thoughts always stir deep in my soul.

This is a quick post. The beautiful roses are grown by a beautiful lady in California.

We are connected because we are distantly related. You may remember the Memorial Day post that mentioned my ancestor Durham Kelly who was paid less than his horse in the War of 1812.That is our point of shared genealogy.

Miss LaNelle has been a treasure to get to know. These pictures she shares via email are as fresh as if she could hand her friends and family one of these beautiful bouquets of roses that she grows.

Would you believe Miss LaNelle is 80 years old, and she takes her own pictures, does her own email and surfs the Internet with the skill of a teenage geek? Inspiring!

To catch you up a bit, Miss LaNelle's rose pictures have had me looking through our old family pictures for some rose-related pictures to share at a later time with you along with some "once upon a time" family stories.

The antique pillowcase background for the ring pictures really stirred up a bubbling cauldron of a short fictional story that has been screaming for me to get it down on paper. Hopefully in a day or two I can share the rest of the pictures of that amazing pillowcase and the fictional story it has inspired.

The quilt fictional story was the first time I have written fiction, so I'm rather jazzed at exercising that muscle.

Also this weekend, a shop owner who has also become a friend via the Internet, asked me to write a little piece of fiction centered around a program she will be offering this fall. That is all that I can say on this subject at this time. Stay tuned.

Then porcelain, porcelain, porcelain, porcelain, porcelain, porcelain and more porcelain.

Penny the Pitt Bull was awakened Friday and again Monday by a employee at our doctor's office. She is not a LPN or a RN or a Nurse Practitioner or a Physicians Assistant. She is hired to make phone calls in the afternoons. 

The little gal was apparently having a bad hormone day last Friday, and she yanked pretty hard on my Pitt Bull collar. I got over that Friday episode, but then she called again Monday for more yanking on my Pitt Bull collar.

Both calls were dictatorial and condescending about how often I should drag my mother to the doctor's office to have blood drawn for routine blood tests. Since 2004, I have followed what the DOCTOR has told me to do, not what a non-medical-person thinks is a way to increase revenue.

When I explained to the woman that the doctor allowed us to come every two to three months to avoid exposing my mother to the many viruses, bacteria and diseases in a doctor's office.

The call woman said, "I don't care about that...You bring in your mother every month. Period."

Er, EXCUSE ME? You DON'T CARE if my 86 year old mother, post 2 strokes, picks up flu, pneumonia, cold, staph or who-knows-what just by sitting for several hours in the doctor's office?

It takes a good bit to awaken the Pitt Bull in me. The last time I got this mad was a good year and a half, maybe two years ago.

Well, I took Mama to that doctor's office yesterday morning for those routine blood tests. After expressing my concerns, briefly, to the office manager and the doctor, I don't think that particular woman will ever call us again.

The doctor repeated the "come back every two to three months" protocol for us to follow, not the "every month" dictate that the hormonal woman was badgering me about.

I promise I was nice and polite and controlled by the time I got to the doctor's office. Still ladylike, but I was mad enough to rip through flesh if I had to.

Phew, I do not like to get that mad. It creates quite a rush of adrenaline, and I discover strength and "thinking on my feet" skills that I did not know I had.  But, gee, it is exhausting!

Disclaimer:  I happen to love Pitt Bulls. Every Pitt Bull I have met and petted has been a sheer love. I think Pitt Bulls get a bad rap in the press, and I think that those Pitt Bulls who attack children, etc., may have been bred or trained for fighting. For the record, I ABHOR the brutal pseudo-sport of fighting dogs or game cocks. If there is another similar brutality, I can't think of it at the moment.