Fridge Clean-up Project

The front and sides of the fridge have really been getting on my nerves lately.  I was made aware of how messy it was when I posted the photo of Robin in front of the fridge last month.  Look at that jumble of photos, calendars, comic strips, appointment cards, notes to self, etc!  You can't see that both sides are just as crowded with more photos, schedules, business cards, magnetic letters for the Fridge Phonics...and more.
I decided today was the day to transform the refrigerator.  After breakfast, I began taking everything off the fridge.  I removed photos from their magnetic envelopes and I took all the letters off and cleaned them and put them in a large ziplock along with the Fridge Phonic.  Down came all the schedules, business cards, appointment cards.  Everything was off and I was able to actually wipe down the entire refrigerator.

Then came the job of deciding what would go back up.  I made the side away from view our "information highway."  Emergency numbers, business cards, notes to self and that sort of thing will be there.  The freezer door now has invitations and meetings posted.  The fridge door has only three sets of photos...the grandkids, naturally.  The right side has a couple of photos, Gage's Pee Wee League schedule, a saying I like (a philosophy I have embraced for years) and a few cartoons.

The philosophy that keeps me idling guilt-free.

When I finished, I stood back to marvel at the neatness.  It is neat...no question about it, but it has no personality.  It's a little too institutional looking, I think.

Cluttered?  Yes, but it has personality! 

This fridge looks like it's one step away from being in a rent house.

I love this...the voice of reason.

Hope you can read these.  Click on them to get a larger view.

Comment to Cousin J

This began as a comment to a post on Cousin J's blog.  She is going to start a project during which time she will make, instead of buy, all the bread  for her family for 40 days.  She will use all sorts of methods and recipes...using the bread machine when she wants/needs to.  My comment started getting ridiculously long, so I decided to post it on my blog, instead.

Oooh, I love homemade bread, too.  I used to make it fairly frequently, but then couldn't quit eating it.  Warm homemade bread and plenty of butter!  How good is that?  I couldn't even let it cool.  Maybe 10 minutes out of the oven was all I could wait.  Oh. my. god!  There is nothing like it. But mine was just plain old homemade bread.  That was in the long ago days before I took us off of white bread.

I did have a french bread recipe that came with an EKCO bread pan that looked like a rounded "W".  The recipe made two loaves...one for each side of the W.  I came across the bread pan a while back and wanted to make some french bread because I remembered we liked it a lot and it seemed like it was a bit faster than my other bread recipe. (Notice, no plural...I really didn't experiment much!)   I tore through lots of possible places for the recipe (choking on dust, occasionally), but never found it.  I knew it was probably still lurking here somewhere because that recipe was not something I would have thrown away.  I couldn't have discarded it accidentally either, because it was printed on heavy sort of magazine slick paper that was almost the size of a road map.

A couple of nights ago, in my shredding/dusting/vacuuming mode in my bedroom, I found it in one of the big plastic containers that had old prospectus (how do you make that a plural?) and charity requests (not the word I'm looking for) and drug monographs and lots of other paper & envelopes.  In the three or so containers I've already gone through, everything has been shredded or tossed with the exception of a few things I will go through later that now reside in one file folder.

Anyway, back to the recipe.  As I said, I found it upstairs in my bedroom among all that other stuff.  Weird.  So I took it to the printer and made a copy.  It's so big that even folded in fourths, the whole piece wouldn't fit on the printer.  No problem.  I copied the part I needed and then typed it into the Master Cook program that I have and printed out that recipe.  On the original recipe I had penciled in new amounts of ingredients.  Evidently, and I don't remember this, I felt like the loaves needed to be a little bigger, so I increased the amounts to 1 1/2 of the original.  In Master Cook I saved the original recipe and then adjusted the ingredient amounts and saved that one too.  I printed both recipes and placed them in a sheet protector with the EKCO  sheet between them.  Now I just need to get my cookbook fixed and things will be right with the world.

My cookbook (my notebook with all the recipes I have typed into Master Cook) fell apart recently and it makes me crazy to have to deal with it.  Yesterday I stopped at Walmart and bought 3 smaller notebooks with the idea that I would have a separate notebook for three different groups of recipes.  I haven't worked out what's going where and the number "3" was arbitrary anyway.  The notebooks are heavy-duty and were over $6 apiece and I just didn't want to buy a 4th one because I was being cheap at the time.  So there's a new project for me.  I just need to think about it a bit. And maybe buy another notebook.

And Cousin J, here is the recipe.  I'm pretty sure you don't have to have the special bread pan, although I wonder if one can be found on eBay.  I just looked on eBay and found it here and it's exactly the one I have. The recipes are on the back of the paper that's covering the pan.

French Bread


1 package dry yeast
1 1/2 cups warm water, 105-115 degrees
1 tablespoon sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
1 tablespoon butter or margarine
4 1/4 to 4 1/3 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons cornmeal

In a large mixing bowl, dissolve yeast in warm water.

Add sugar, salt, butter, and 2 cups flour.  Beat with a spoon until thoroughly mixed.  Gradually add remaining flour until dough is easy to handle.

Knead on a lightly floured surface for five to ten minutes or until dough is elastic and not sticky.

Place in a greased bowl; cover dough with plastic wrap.  Let rise in a warm place until double in size, 1 to 1 1/4 hours.

Punch down and place on a lightly floured surface.  Divide into two equal pieces.

Shape each piece into a long narrow loaf, about 14" long and 1 1/2" in diameter.

Lightly grease inside of EKCO French Bread Pan.  Sprinkle 1 tsp. cornmeal in each section.  Shake pan to distribute evenly.

Place loaves in pan.  Make sure the loaves do not come any closer than 1 1/2" to ends of the pan.  With a sharp knife, make three or four diagonal 1/4" deep slashes on the top of each loaf.  Do not cover.  Let rise in a warm place until double in size, about 45 minutes.

Bake in preheated 375 degree oven for 25-30 minutes.  Remove from pan at once.

Adventures in Housekeeping

I've been trying to get upstairs for over an hour.  But my kitchen had a few items that didn't belong in it and I wanted to get them stowed away.  They were there in the first place because they had been so filthy, McNasty in the spots where they were unearthed that they had to go to the kitchen for a scrubbing. 

Yes, I am still on my housecleaning/purging (now I'm sitting here trying to think of the word I want to use) binge (that's it).  This is probably the longest EVER for me.  Thank goodness Hoarders is still on television.  I think I might be able to keep going if I keep watching that. 

Back to why I couldn't get upstairs.  I had already started the upper oven on a self-cleaning cycle while I was eating breakfast.  I washed, dried and put away the intruding objects...except for one that is taunting me with its presence.  I need to just throw it away...it's just a jar that should have one of those plastic stopper/glass lids that plug into the top.  Supposed to be air-proof, I guess.  Don't know where the lid is and as I look at it I'm trying to imagine what I could put in it.  Now, that seems classic hoarder instinct to me.  That sucker is going in the trash as soon as I go back downstairs.

I noticed yesterday that the shelf between the kitchen sink and the windows looked dull again...which meant it was a little dusty.  So, I got the little one-step stool and wiped down the shelf and then the countertops on either side of the sink.  The stainless steel sink was next to get a couple of treatments.  I was putting something away in the non-food pantry...maybe I could call that the butler's pantry...how fancy, when I realized there were three shelves in there that would be more efficient if I rearranged them.  For one thing, I could move the Rabbit wine opener to a lower shelf, which would keep me from saying a bad word every time I needed it.  Removing everything from the shelf I had eyeballed in the first place gave me a chance to wipe it with a damp sponge, which it apparently needed. 

In rearranging, I came across a box of checks that might be for an account we don't have anymore, so that needed to go upstairs where I could check it out and then shred them.  Okay then, finished in the kitchen, I prepared to go up, carrying a bottle of all-purpose cleaner, the box of checks, a couple of dish towels that need to be washed and 3 paper napkins that looked unused but were out of the napkin holder...I figured I'd put them by my recliner upstairs.  Off I go, Miss Efficiency, I drop the dish towels in the laundry room and head upstairs.  I took the cleaner up because it didn't have very much in it and didn't want to spray out, so I was going to pour it into another bottle of cleaner.  Crap!  Not the same brand, so I decide that I'll use it in the powder room downstairs, which I had noticed needed cleaning.  Back downstairs I go, to the laundry room to pick up a rag and a micro fiber cloth.   I also put on my apron with the big pockets, into one of which I put the box of checks which I'm still carrying around...forgot to leave them upstairs.  I clean the powder room and then remember that I had noticed the dining room table was dusty.  Back to the laundry room to pick up the furniture polish, the dust mitt (which I really like) and a dust cloth.  I polish the table and chairs and am feeling pretty good about that when I glance up and Crap!  The hanging light fixture is sporting dust AND a few little web strands.  Cleaned it...not much got on the table.  I forgot to mention that while I was dusting the table, and the chairs, and all the legs of the chairs and the table which I had to crawl around on the floor to do, the damn box of checks kept falling out of the pocket of my apron, which caused me to use bad words.  While I was in the dining room, I decided to dust everything else in there.

During all this I couldn't help but think how hard (and never-ending) it is to keep a clean house.  And I'm really glad I haven't wasted much of my life doing it. 

The New Cows on the Block

Even though I've written about some cows who happen to live in the adjoining pasture, I don't want you to think I'm fixated on them.  Cows.  I can take them or leave them.  But, you can't help but notice them.  They either give you a condescending stare or a stupid look.  There might not be much difference between those two faces, come to think of it.  But, maybe I should use the positive intent tool I learned in a parenting class last year and imagine that they are a) simply interested in what I'm doing, or b) even worried about what I might do.

Anywhoo, our neighbors across the road have fenced in about 18 acres or so and planted grass...or hay grazer...or whatever you put when cows are going to live there.  After several months of preparation by them, I noticed recently that there are now 2 cows that have been moved in.  The first time I noticed them was when I walked out to the mailbox.  They were standing near the fence just a few yards away from my mailbox.  One watched me approach the mailbox while the other one freaked out.  Freaked out might be a little strong.  She just hippity hopped back a ways, like she'd been shot at.  I got my mail and said, "Hey..." to them and went back from whence I had come.

Every time I look out my front window (that I can actually see through now because it's a NEW window) they are in that same corner, near the road, fairly close to the mailbox.  When I walk out there now, they don't move away.  I usually say something, like "How's it going?" just to be friendly.  They just stare.  A couple of days ago, though, as I spotted them through the window I got the feeling that they still weren't comfortable in their new digs.  While I was looking they would leave their favorite spot, wander away a few yards, stand still and look at each other for awhile.  It actually entered my mind (strange little thing that it is) that they looked like they were in witness protection.  Like they had been dropped into a new environment and forced to learn a new occupation because they couldn't practice whatever skills they had learned during their earlier life.  Maybe they were just lonely.  So, I'll continue to pass the time of day with them even though I don't really want to become BFF's.

A Friend

The reason we were in town last night was because a friend had passed away and we went to the visitation.  This friend was quite a colorful character and I'm sure I could write on and on about some of the things he has said and done.

I remember reading the local newspaper a few years back in which there was an article about our friend and another fellow having a fist fight during which one of them pulled a knife.  No one was injured that I know of...our friend was probably in his 70's at the time and the other guy was in his 60's. It serves to illustrate how unpredictable and fearless our friend could be.

Our friend, okay...Tom, was a big supporter of the county fair, as is Wayne.  One day he and Tom were moving a building at the fairgrounds.  The building was jacked up and Wayne was underneath it.  Tom was telling Wayne what to do.  He would point underneath towards the back and say, "Take that jack plate and move it over there."  When he pointed, Wayne would look back at where he was pointing, trying to figure out what the jack plate was.  Every time he looked back, Tom would say, "Damn it, Wayne!  Look at me when I'm talking to you!"  So, Wayne would look at him and it would all start again. He'd point toward the back and shout at Wayne to move that jack plate and Wayne would again look back to try and see what he was talking about.   "Goddang it, Wayne, you s-o-b, look at me when I'm talking to you!  Take that jack plate and move it."  He'd point; Wayne would look.   Wayne said that happened about three times before he finally figured out what the jack plate was.

I would imagine there are hundreds, if not thousands of similar stories about Tom.  One of a kind...who will be missed by many. 

Wayne's Morning Routine

I stayed up till about 2 last night, so I slept till about 9 this morning.  Haven't done much so far other than skim newspapers from this week and do the Sudoku and crosswords in a few of them.  The paper carrier used to come into the U-shaped driveway, drop the paper off in front of the house, and then continue on and get back on the road.  Wayne would walk to the sidewalk, get the paper, remove the sports section and leave the rest in the kitchen before he got in his truck to make his morning rounds. 

When we were having new siding & some new windows installed a couple of months ago, there was a trailer parked on the driveway which meant the carrier couldn't drive through.  It was only blocked for a few days, but since then the paper has been dropped out near the road.  Consequently, Wayne no longer retrieves the newspaper before he gets in his truck.  He picks it up on his way out of the driveway, reads it while he has coffee at Jack-in-the-Box and doesn't always remember to bring it in when he gets home.  So, that's why I had most of the week's papers to look at this morning.

Speaking of Jack-in-the-Box, I might have mentioned Wayne's routine of going there almost every morning.  On our way home from a Mexican food dinner out, I remembered that I wanted to review his routine.  I knew he stopped to buy coffee for the ladies at J-i-t-B, but couldn't remember why he did that.  And I didn't think  to ask him how it started in the first place.  He stops at a gas station on the way to J-i-t-B to buy a cappuccino for one of the ladies there.  He used to get an orange drink for one of the other ladies, but she told him he didn't need to do that anymore.  He mentioned the other places where friends of his gather in the morning, but he prefers J-i-t-B because he likes to just read the paper and it's usually pretty quiet there at 6:30 or so.  He said he might go by a business or two before heading back out to the farm by 8:00.  Just like Benji, he has a regular routine.

Tip of the Day - Removing the seal on a container

I have a few tricks up my sleeve to make life smoother, so I've decided to post one every now and then.  

Bottles and jars with the foil or paper seal across the top. 

I used to go in search of a knife or scissors when I opened those kinds of jars or bottles.  Not any more.  I realized a few years ago that I usually didn't have to walk a a single step to puncture and then remove the foil or paper seals.  My counter tops (laminate, alas) have square edges that go beyond the cabinets, so if I'm standing near one of the corners, I just carefully push the seal into the corner.  It makes a little tear in the seal, as if I'd used a "church key."  If I'm not standing near a corner, I'm probably near an upper cabinet door.  Just open the door and push the seal against the bottom corner of the door.  Obviously if there's liquid in the container, you have to be careful.  The same goes for containers that are totally filled.

Third International Invitational Womens World Championship Spoon Off

If you're interested in reading about the Spoons tournament, held in nearby Nada, Texas, click on "The Hensleys" blog on the right side of this page. 

Most of the photos posted were taken in 2009, during the Second International Invitational Womens World Championship Spoon Off.

If you're not interested, I got nothing else today.

A Foray into the Past

Since Wayne finished the last of the pinto beans last night, I decided to cook some navy beans today. I love navy beans and rice. My mom cooked them occasionally, maybe once a month or so, almost always on a Thursday. Thursday, because my dad didn't care much for them and he had Rotary Club on that day, at noon.

To the best of my recollection, my brothers and I ate lunch at home most days, including school days. We got picked up at school and taken home for lunch and then went back to school for the afternoon....every day. I have no idea who picked us up, although I'm guessing it was Dad. The reason I'm guessing Dad is because I vividly remember the time he came to pick me up at the high school and I wasn't there waiting for him.

Here's what happened. Dad would go pick up Andy and Chris from St. Philip's (or wherever they were in school) and then drive a few blocks to the high school where I would be waiting in front, close to the cafeteria. We would drive the 9 or 10 blocks to our house, eat lunch and then someone, probably Dad, would drive us back to our respective schools. (I'd like to know just how long our freaking lunch period was back then!)

This one particular day, I waited and waited for Dad. It seemed like I was standing out there for 15 minutes or so. Finally, deciding that he wasn't going to appear, I just went to the cafeteria and ate lunch there. He probably showed up as soon as I hit the cafeteria, waited a bit and then left...thoroughly ticked at me, since he was already running late. I was in a heap of trouble! My punishment...instead of being chauffeured back and forth for lunch, for the next week I had to walk both ways. I had to walk home, eat lunch and then walk back to school. Now, it's not like we were across town from school, but it was a decent distance. I just googled a map and it says it's 8 tenths of a mile. I suppose that could be right. Anyway, that's a round trip of over a mile and a half, plus time to eat lunch. I don't remember it being that bad. I don't remember even being mad about it. But I do remember that Dad was really late and I thought my eating in the cafeteria was an appropriate solution to the situation.

I also remember that on two separate occasions as I walked back to school, a neighbor and her boyfriend stopped to ask if I wanted a ride. Both times I thanked them but explained that I was being punished and had to walk. They probably thought I was nuts. I didn't know it then, but I had just talked to my future husband for the first time. I didn't know Wayne at that time...just knew who he was.

Why did I start this?

Oh, yes, the navy beans. They've taken their sweet time getting soft. After 4 hours they were still al dente, which is not even the way I like pasta, much less dried beans. They're okay now, I guess, but not quite as good as I remember the ones made by Mom. She seasoned hers with salt pork, which I didn't have. I used some leftover ham. I'll have a nice bowl of navy beans and rice tonight and hope I'm in the house alone tomorrow!

What's for dinner tonight?

I made myself go grocery shopping this morning. The pantry has slimmed down quite a bit, although there is still plenty of stuff to make a meal from. I'm using "meal" rather loosely here. Some people might not consider peanut butter & jelly a meal. Luckily for me, and Wayne, that sandwich would qualify for a meal in this household. He is very relaxed in his attitude about what should be presented at meals. Truth be told, the main reason I needed to go to the grocery store was because there were only a few slices of bread left.

He rarely eats breakfast at home. He leaves early in the morning and goes to town to have coffee (and maybe something to eat at Jack-in-the-Box.) It's my understanding that he stops somewhere else first and buys coffee for the ladies at JITB. I don't really know why that is. If he was here right now, I would try to get a clarification. But, it's mid-afternoon, he's not here...and I won't remember later.

Occasionally, he eats lunch here. But, more often he doesn't show up at lunch, either. He eats in town with friends. They pass around a card which indicates whose turn it is to pay.

Even dinnertime doesn't guarantee a real meal around here. Once a week I go out with friends and he occasionally has a meeting to go to. He usually tells me in advance about meetings so that I won't bother with a meal then, but sometimes I forget and cook anyway.

I was planning on making a meal tonight, but remembered after I got home that the fire department fried fish dinner is this evening. Carolyn said that if she and Brent decide to pick up some dinners, she will take my ticket and get a meal that Wayne and I can share. If there's enough for two. If there isn't, there's always peanut butter and jelly.

Our 45th Anniversary

The kids wanted to do something special for our anniversary, offering to take us out on the town. They were were even getting babysitters! I suggested that instead of going out and paying out the wazoo for steaks, why didn't we just buy steaks and cook them here. That was fine with them, if that was what we wanted to do, but I still wanted them to get babysitters.

I need to digress a bit here. Wayne and I have always been fairly relaxed about when we celebrate our anniversary. If we go out to eat at any time during the weeks before our anniversary, we say, "Okay! We'll make this our anniversary." As it happened this year, the 27th of February was on a Saturday and that worked out for everyone. They all had to miss some dinner/dance fundraiser, however. But, they said they would start going to them next year. (Hope they arrange for babysitters well in advance.)

Carolyn and Wendy called Kenny & Kelly's kids, Kaiti, Kellcie, & Kent, to see if they would be able to babysit for them this year and luckily they were available. Also luckily, Kenny & Kelly wanted to join us for the anniversary dinner. A wonderful addition to the party. They always liven things up!

I must admit that I naively imagined that the dinner was going to be at our house but that I wouldn't have to do anything...just be a guest here. The first I heard that I would be cooking the steaks was a week or so before the big event. My response..."What the hell!?!" But, of course, steaks are pretty easy to do. We ended up searing them on the stove top for about 4 minutes each and then popped them in a 500 degree oven for an additional 6 minutes. They were very nice (preseasoned) boneless ribeyes that Carolyn bought at Novak's in El Campo.

Carolyn and Robin arrived mid-afternoon and we got started with the margarita machine. Robin and Chad got the 3-blender Margaritaville machine as a wedding gift. Brent gave Carolyn the same model for her birthday. A very nice machine...makes a great margarita! We washed potatoes and asparagus and toasted some bread for the baked brie appetizer. We should have set the tables and gotten a little more organized, but we neglected to do that. But, the margaritas were really good.

Wendy came as soon as Kelly and Gage got back from a birthday party. And then Brent, Kelly, Kenny and Kelly all arrived as soon as the babysitters got dropped off. And then it got really loud in the kitchen, which is where we all were.

Dinner was very good, although as I said, we could have been a little more organized. Once we finished dinner and dessert, a yummy pecan pie truffle, we cleaned up and then set up a Tripoley game on the dining room table. It had been many years since most of us had played Tripoley and Robin had to repeat the rules more than once. She bought the game on ebay. In case you don't know what Tripoley is, the game involves a poker hand and also the playing of money cards. It was a lot of fun even though Kenny was the big winner that night!

It was after midnight before the last of them left...all very tired, including us. It was a really fun anniversary party! Thanks, everyone!

Carolyn, operating the margarita machine.

Robin, doing quality control on the margaritas. A dirty job, but someone has to do it!

Kelly, Kelly & Chad reacting to something funny

Brent & Kenny, just being cool

Celebrating 45 glorious years!

From the look on Chad's face, Robin must have said something shocking. Meanwhile, Wendy is busily stacking (or counting) her nickels.

Carolyn, listening carefully to the rules explanations

Carolyn, taking no chances that someone will see her cards

Kelly & Kenny, the big winners!

Robin & Wendy

Oh, my gosh! Nearly half a century...