Tuesday, October 23, 2012

A Love Story





Joyce and Elwood were high school sweethearts in the early years before World War II broke out.  They had known each other for as long as they could remember, and their two families had always been close.  In the rural area where the two young people had grown up, the innocent culture of pre-war times involved church picnics, family get-togethers, and ice cream socials.  When Elwood was called into service of his country, he and Joyce made a pact that they would be married after the war was over.  While Elwood was away, they wrote letters to each other, sometimes three or four times a week, in which they continued to declare their love for one another.

After a couple of years, letters from Elwood began to dwindle.  Joyce assumed that it was because Elwood was unable to keep up his letter-writing due to the demands of war.  She continued to write faithfully to Elwood anyway.  Then, the letters from him stopped altogether.  Joyce was dismayed but never lost sight of the promise that she and Elwood had forged together.

Finally, one day a letter arrived from Elwood.  He wrote about having met another girl, Mary.  He wrote that Mary would never, however, mean as much to him as Joyce did.  And then, there were no more letters from Elwood.  Joyce kept busy on her family's farm and helped cook the farmhand meals for the brothers too young to go to war.  Her two oldest brothers, Sidney and Alvin, like so many young men, were away at war like Elwood.

One day when Joyce's parents had to make a trip into town to buy supplies, Joyce was left in charge of firing up the wood cook stove and starting the big mid-day meal.  She was just about to light the fire when one of her younger brothers who had returned from an errand in town announced to Joyce that he knew why she had not heard any more from Elwood.  The news was that Elwood had gotten married!

Joyce was totally devastated by this revelation.  She had assumed that Elwood's new friend Mary was just that...a friend.  She assumed that one day she and Elwood would be reunited and finally be married.  She was hurt.  She was angry.  She was beside herself with grief.

Joyce called to her younger sister Frances to come into the kitchen and help her.  Joyce told her to help her gather up everything that she had been given by Elwood.   Pictures, gifts, stacks and stacks of letters from Elwood, even one of those silk pillows that so many of the servicemen sent home to their families, were put into a pile on the big kitchen table.  Then Joyce said, "Help me put all of this stuff into the open fire."  She wanted to rid herself of every memory associated with that scoundrel! Frances tried to dissuade her, but Joyce's mind was made up.  She was done with Elwood forever!

After the war, Elwood returned to the little farming community with his new bride, and in time Joyce learned to put aside her feelings for Elwood and move on with her life.  She eventually met and married Johnny, a handsome sailor from the Midwest.

Elwood and Mary and Joyce and Johnny blended into the community, each raising several children, and  remained friends and acquaintances for six decades.  They even went to the same church and saw each other socially on a regular basis.  Johnny passed away a few years ago, and Joyce relied on her strong Christian faith to sustain her.  She sold the country home that she and Johnny had lived in for so many years and moved into the small town where her church was just a few minutes' drive away.

Several years ago, Mary was diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease and had to be placed into an assisted living facility.  Elwood, who was then in his 80s, wanted to be near to her, so he moved in as well. For eight years, they lived there together, until earlier this year, when Mary passed away.  It was naturally difficult for Elwood to loose his wife of sixty something years.  The community and the church, as well as his children, rallied around him and gave him comfort.

Then, two strange things happened.  One day after church, Elwood told Joyce's younger sister Frances that he had always carried a torch for Joyce.  When Joyce heard this, she was furious.  How dare he say something like that!  It made her feel cheap! But Joyce has a forgiving heart, and she chalked it up to the ramblings of an old man.  But then, a couple of months ago, at a meeting to plan the 90th birthday celebration for Elwood, he told Joyce that he was pleased to be honored in this way, but that the best part of it was that he'd get to spend time with the sweetest, prettiest gal he ever knew.

That did it!  Joyce called Elwood's oldest son and told him that he needed to do something with his father.  She was highly offended by Elwood's remarks and wished that he'd keep his mouth shut.  But, then, when Joyce told her children and siblings about what had transpired, they were all happy that Elwood was attempting to open his heart to Joyce.  After all, they said, he's an old man and he's really trying to reach out to her.

Joyce prayed about this and thought about this and talked again to all of her children and brothers and sisters.  They unanimously encouraged her to go forward with this rekindled love affair.

So, Joyce went to visit Elwood at the assisted living facility.  They sat and talked for hours.  He poured his heart out to her. He apologized for breaking her heart all those years ago.  They held hands, they cried together, and they reformed the bond that they had once shared.

Now, Joyce is 88 years old, and Elwood is 90.  They sit together every Sunday at church, and Joyce drives into the nearby town to visit him at the assisted living facility at least three times a week, sometimes more often.  Joyce told me that she hasn't been this happy in years, that she feels like she's floating on air. Joyce and Elwood are in love!  She actually said that they hold hands, but that's as far as it's gone. (Oh, my!)  I jokingly said that I'd be looking for a wedding invitation in the mail, and Joyce said that actually, she and Elwood would love to get married, but it would mean that his Medicaid would be affected, and who knows what it would do to Johnny's pension that she was receiving. She said that they would move in together but that they're worried about how that would look! (I had to suppress another chuckle when I heard this part.)

So, there you go.........Love conquers all.   True story.



Thursday, August 2, 2012

Eating My Mistake

The recipe for Roasted Banana Scones with Peanut Butter Glaze that I found on Pinterest sounded so interesting.  My husband's love of bananas and peanut butter would pretty well assure the possibility that I could get him to try them if I baked them. Note that heretofore, he had turned up his nose at my scones.

I had some over-ripe bananas that needed to be used up and some left-over part-skim ricotta cheese that I had no other use for.  So, it sounded like this venture would be promising.

My first clue of impending disaster occurred when the sliced bananas topped with melted butter and brown sugar did NOT emerge from the oven "caramelized."  They were "bubbly" all right but not "caramelized."

Now, I've baked my share of scones for about two years, and if there's anything I've learned it's that parchment paper is the way to go.  None of that greasing the baking sheets for me.  So, since this recipe called for spraying two large baking sheets with nonstick cooking spray, I promptly ignored that step and used parchment paper instead.  Second foreshadowing clue, as it turned out.

The recipe called for dropping the dough into 12 equal mounds on the baking sheets and baking the scones for 25-30 minutes.  Did that. Then, five minutes before the scones came out of the oven, the "glaze" was to have been prepared (peanut butter, butter, powdered sugar, vanilla). Did that.

When the oven timer went off, I was ready with my "glaze," which in reality was not a glaze at all, but rather a thick sweet peanut butter spread. Oh, well, that would have been okay if it weren't for the fact that the scones were both BURNT and STUCK to the parchment paper!

So much for parchment paper. Now I had to eat my mistake.  So, I decapitated the scones, leaving the burnt undercarriage stuck to the parchment, which was also stuck to the baking sheets.

What I had here tasted like banana bread cookies with peanut butter spread on the tops.  I should have just baked the old faithful Banana Bread.  Oh, well, you win some and you lose some.  Not the end of the world.  "Just the end of Roasted Banana Scones with Peanut Butter Glaze,"  she said as she pitched the recipe into the circular file.

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Bane of My Existence

To say that something is the "bane of my existence" means that something is a constant irritant, something that makes life unpleasant.


Here are my banes for the month of July:


Back when I was teaching, I looked forward to the three-month summer vacation each year to enjoy time with my family and to recharge my battery so that when the new school year began, I'd be eager to return to the new crop of middle-schoolers that awaited me.  


However, the appearance of school supplies on the store shelves right after Fourth of July always irritated me. My summer vacation wasn't even half over, and there was the reminder that the clock had started ticking. Now that I'm retired, the sight of those spiral notebooks, pens, and book bags still gets me going!  Pavlov's Theory.


I'm going to have to write a letter to Dollar Tree, currently one of my favorite stores, because of what I saw there about two weeks ago.  Right there behind the summer picnic supplies was an entire aisle devoted to Halloween costumes and decorations!  Come on now!  It's JULY!  Halloween is three months away!


But this next one really blew my mind.......In the week following the appearance of pumpkins, witches, and ghouls at Dollar Tree, what to my wondering eyes should appear but CHRISTMAS DECORATIONS!!!  I kid you not!


Why can't we just enjoy our current season?  Why must we always be subjected to retail merchants reminding us that Halloween's just around the corner (NOT!) or that there are only 150 shopping days left before Christmas?


With that in mind, I bid you Happy Halloween and Merry Christmas. LOL 

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

I Could Write a Book

I had thought of naming my blog, "I Could Write a Book," as sort of an homage to my mother.  That's what she used to say to emphasize the fact that whatever she was complaining about at the time, she had enough material, in fact, to write a book about it.  However, for my blog, that title seemed a little ostentatious. After all, I'll be lucky to write a few blog posts, much less write a book!


Then, I came up with "Scone With the Wind," which I thought was truly a very clever and original title that would reference my affinity for scones, afternoon tea, teacups, and teapots while at the same time, pay tribute to my favorite book and movie of all time.  (Notice that I even capitalized "With," a la GWTW.) But, woe was me when I discovered that I was not the first person on the planet to coin that clever title!  


So, there you go.  "Scone With the Wind and More" was born.  It's probably a better title, anyway, since I'd like to spout off (pardon the pun!) about a lot of things, not just tea and GWTW.




                                                  


And, speaking of GWTW, the first time I read the book I was about 12 years old.  I say "the first time," because at last count I have read it 13 times. Yes, 13 times!  (And I should probably think about reading it again sometime soon.)  Rhett Butler and Scarlett O'Hara took me by storm!  I couldn't put the book down, partly because the story was so captivating and partly because I was riding in the back seat of my family's 1953 Oldsmobile on our way to Dallas to visit relatives, and if I put the book down and looked out the window, I would be immediately CAR SICK!!!


NOTE:  In reviewing this post, I can't figure out why this NOTE and the previous paragraph appear to be highlighted.  Oh, well, I'll worry about that tomorrow. 

So, I kept my head down all the way to Dallas and back, continuing to read Gone With the Wind while the visit took place, and finished all 1,037 pages after returning home a few days later.


Why would I want to read and re-read a book 13 times and counting?  Why would my 5-year-old son watch "ET" over and over and over and. . . Same reason.  When you first discover something that really grabs you and takes you away to a different time and place and it does it for you EVERY time you experience it, then it's worth repeating.  Right? 

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

My Maiden Blog Post

Well, here goes nothing!  Since I've been reading and following a number of blogs over the last couple of years, I decided that I should try writing a blog myself.  Not that anyone will read it, of course, other than my son and a couple of close friends who will promise not to laugh.