grace grits and gardening

ramblings from an arkansas farm girl

What Not To Pin

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I’m conservative and borderline boring.  I’m a bit slow to follow trends. If forced to choose, I would dress like Hillary over Gaga, even though polyester clashes with my freckles. I’m seriously considering hiding my favorite Dallas Mavericks t-shirts in case that annoyingly adorable Stacy London shows up unannounced and forces me to toss all my earth tone clothes and converse sneakers into that big garbage can she drags around.  (I bet she takes all those clothes home and secretly wears them while devouring Thin Mints and watching Biggest Loser.) I’ve only recently decided skinny jeans and those ankle boots with peep toes are acceptable for very skinny girls in their twenties and younger. And, I’m quite proud to announce that I tweeted for the first time yesterday. At least I think I did. 

Lately it seems everyone has jumped on the Pinterest bandwagon like white on rice – everyone but me. And of course, my mother. Until I figure it out, she will not figure it out. I’m not even sure how to properly pronounce it…  Several months ago, one of my friends asked me if I was on “P-Interest” (like P-Diddy), and I’ve heard others pronounce it “Pin-Trest”. Should I try something I can’t even say?  Plus I hear it’s “addictive”, like that’s a positive attribute. If I become a crazy pinner, my Angry Birds ranking could be affected.

I was a bit curious about what I was missing, so I decided to check out this new obsession, possibly even successfully setting up an account.  Last night when there was much snoring in my bed, I continued to research, unearthing pages and pages of pictures. Some were pretty cool. Some were odd to me. As I scrolled down I accidentally pinned 2 things. I know this only because my AirBook Mac notified me. Hmmmmm. I had no idea where or what I had pinned, but I was on my way.  

This morning when I logged into Facebook I discovered that suddenly I was FOLLOWING 61 people on Pinterest! WHAT? How can this be? I was locked out of my house most of the morning and before that sleeping! But somehow I had been following people? And I had 5 “boards” I didn’t know about.  Was I sleep-pinning and sleep-following? I swear, I have never taken Ambien.  I felt guilty and dirty, like I might need to register on some weirdo database with the city of Dallas. Later, when I accidentally found Pinterest again, I noticed there were a few people following me!  That must be incredibly boring for them.  But now I was feeling the pressure to pin things! 

I frantically starting pinning, liking, and re-pinning so my “followers” would have something to view. In my haste, I pinned a photo of lucious red velvet cheesecake on my “Favorite Place and Spaces” Board, but I think I even figured out how to move it to the Food Board. I’m making progress and possibly becoming more pinteresting all the time.

So here’s what I’ve discovered, and please feel free to correct me if I’m wrong: Pinterest is basically an electronic bulletin board that allows you to unknowingly stalk friends and strangers, allowing their “work” to be plagiarized and copied to your own e-board? Pinning sounds so much cuter, doesn’t it? It conjures images such as playing pin the tail on the donkey at your best friend’s birthday party in 2nd grade while wearing a flouncy pink party dress. Or, getting pinned in college by your frat boy sweetheart. I think I will like it.

talya

Red Velvet Cheesecake Brownies
Re-Pinned by Talya

Let’s Make a Deal

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I get not one second of peace to enjoy my coffee until Lucy and Annabelle have walked, peed and pooped. Out the door we go first thing in the morning. I am a vision wearing whatever I throw on to stay warm – today it’s gray sweat pants, my Rivercrest Colts t-shirt underneath a sloppy navy sweatshirt, purple windbreaker, Ugg boots, dirty ponytail and no makeup. Lovely. Even though the sun is barely awake, I wear my sunglasses so that no one will recognize me and to hide my puffy morning eyes.

Immediately out the door I hear Debby Rogers call my name from her car. The dogs gave me away. She is off to work, looking like she just walked the runway at fashion week – her hair is always swingy and shiny. She sports those stylish glasses everyone, who is anyone, wears. And she’s clean. I’m sure of it. We briefly chatted before she drove off likely thinking, “Wow she’s really let herself go since she quit the bank”.

The dogs and I happily continue down the sidewalk, waving to John as he drives by and turns at the corner. He’s off to a doctor appointment and then to work. Somebody has to work. It’s a gorgeous winter morning in Dallas. I am reminded of my favorite Bible verse: “This is the day which the LORD hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it.” Psalms 118:24 King James. I prefer King James.

I stick my hands down into my pockets to keep them warm.  They are full of stuff.  Truly, I am not a packrat. I can easily discard things without a second thought.  Strangely, I have managed to accumulate all sorts of little things in both my pockets. I feel around and identify plastic bags to pick up dog poop (proper city etiquette), a dry cleaners receipt (I must remember to pick up John’s shirts), a tiny sample of makeup from Newcomb’s (Estee Lauder Biscuit), my grocery list from yesterday (we were nearly starved), and a large package of Fruit Stripe gum, which I bought at the Wilson grocery store when my mother and I did a drive-by of Johnny Cash’s house in Dyess last week.    

I should be on Let’s Make a Deal, but properly attired of course. Remember that show? Is it still on? Monty Hall made random deals such as cash to the maniacal audience member who could quickly produce a box of macaroni from her purse.  Or a pink curler.  Or a pair of socks.  Or Fruit Stripe gum from Wilson…  Wait a minute. Something did not feel quite right…? Something was missing! Where were my keys? I turned my pockets inside out on the corner in front of Harry’s house, which immediately became a super fun game to Lucy and Annabelle. My pockets had been so weighted, I had assumed my keys were inside. But I had Fruit Stripe Gum instead! And I didn’t have my iPhone. I always had my iPhone! It was my life line. Pitiful.

Quickly, the girls and I ran to Russell and Terri’s house – 4 houses down from ours. They were unlucky enough to be home – the car was in the drive. As I knocked, Lucy and Annabelle jumped at my feet smearing up their glass front door. I saw Russell inside on his iPad. He couldn’t hide. Plus he had to help me, he’s a preacher. He’s dedicated to helping those less fortunate. He took an oath or something. I thought about quickly turning my back to the door and smearing some of that Estee Lauder Biscuit on my face, but time was of the essence. Once John left the doctor, he would go to his office which was near the airport – far, far away.  

Inside we go – Lucy and Annabelle running wildly all over the room with leashes swinging – so excited to be calling on a neighbor so early. What fun! And I looked like a haint in this getup I was wearing. I had coffee breath and had not yet brushed my teeth! I sure hoped he had not read the story of my brightening facial a couple of weeks ago. He would immediately know it did not work, and it was a total waste of money. I explained my pathetic situation, and he graciously set out to help me.  (We do have GREAT neighbors!)

I could not remember John’s cell number to save my soul. It’s programmed on my iPhone so why clutter my head with those numbers?  Russell handed Terri’s laptop to me but evidently when I am makeup-less, I am also computer illiterate.  Finally I stumbled into Facebook and onto John’s page to see if his cell phone number was listed.  Of course not.  Who does that? (me) Ironically, the first thing that flashed on the crazy new Facebook timeline ticker was “Today is Russell Floyd’s birthday! Wish him a happy birthday!”  Really? WhatWereTheOdds? So, I gushed over Russell, wishing him a happy birthday, trying to convince him that was the real reason for my early morning visit. 

The dogs were rowdy, jumping on their clean furniture in their clean, dog-less, child-less home. This was the moment I experienced my first official day-time hot flash. Terri came into the room to remind Russell that she had a flight to catch. I think she was starting to get nervous that the dogs and I would be riding to DFW Airport with them to swing by John’s office, completely stinking  up their clean car. Finally, Russell brilliantly sent John an email (I remembered his email address).  And thank goodness, John headed back home to save me from myself.  

At 8:15 I’ve already had a day.  I think this afternoon I will make a pie from Nana’s recipe box – for Russell.  Russell deserves pie! It’s his birthday. And southern girls always cook in times of need.


talya


Musical Pairings:
Alison Krauss & Gillian Welch, “I’ll Fly Away”

Is It Winter Yet?

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Dallas weather is EXTREME. There is no other way to describe it. The temperature often ranges 50 to 60 degrees within a twenty-four hour period. Summer is hellish with weeks and weeks and weeks of 100+ temperatures and terrible humidity. Everyone begins to snap at each other from the heat and bad hair days.  Acres of ranch land ignite and burn. Boats run aground from lack of rainfall. The tap water tastes like algae by Labor Day. Finally, when everyone is at the point of seeking counseling, that first cold snap hits around Halloween and yay, it’s fall, the best season of all, for about 14 days. You dare not blink.

As you begin to let your guard down to recover from the broiling summer, you realize it’s one week before Christmas and the pumpkins are still on the porch.  Overnight, all the trees have gone bare.  When did it become winter?  Does the Earth spin more quickly on its axis now?  Did Al Gore double-check this while inventing global warming? Although super short, Dallas winters do often include bursts of crazy cold from Canada which are brutal to our thin, watery blood unprepared for icy temps.  Combined with Texas winds, the chill is often below zero.

Snow!

Last year we received over a foot of snow one day in January. It happened so quickly the weathermen, who were probably in their inclement weather prayer group, completely missed the forecast. They are still red-faced about this. In contrast, so far this year, we have managed to skip the cold messy weather completely, wearing shorts in December and eating lunch outside on MLK Day. It makes for nice dog walking weather, which Lucy and Annabelle appreciate.  


I want changes of season.  I want to see snow in the winter and sun in the summer. (But a normal amount of each would be preferable.) If I suddenly wake from a coma, I want to be able to look out the window and know what time of year it is based on the color of the leaves on the trees, not because the leaves are burnt to a crisp. I could never live in a place with the same weather month after month – that would be monotonous.  I will not go on a Caribbean cruise for Christmas.  It just doesn’t seem right, plus there is the whole “some people mysteriously don’t come back from cruises” issue. And the “I’d rather have a root canal than wear a swimsuit in December” issue. Ok, so I have issues…

This is the time of year that I start to get antsy.  I’m ready for yard work.  I need to clean the flower beds and trim the bushes and sweat.  It’s cathartic.  I begin to anticipate the tall purple irises that will soon pop up on the blades in the thick groundcover surrounding the fountain.  I thumb through seed catalogs and dream of the day when I will not be limited to my city postage stamp yard and container herb gardening. Winter teaches patience.  I know that underneath the ground, the bulbs and roots are hibernating, warming and waiting until the perfect time to show themselves. 

I think I’ll drink my coffee this morning on the porch and have a little chat with my pansies. They probably have some insight into our crazy Dallas weather.  Yes, I talk to my plants.

Last Spring’s Irises.  
talya

Musical Pairings:
Dean Martin, “Let it Snow! Let it Snow! Let it Snow!”

Food. Farm. Garden. Life.

THANKS FOR READING!