grace grits and gardening

ramblings from an arkansas farm girl

Step away from those peanuts!

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The news reported this morning, “Safeway has agreed to stop selling pink slime in its ground beef but Walmart will give its consumers a choice.” So given an alternative, some people will choose pink slime to save a fifty cents? This was like a Saturday Night Live Weekend Update report.
I admit, the possibility of pink slime gave me pause at lunch this week as I ordered a beef taco. But I ordered it anyway. It hadn’t hurt me yet. At least I didn’t think so.
Like eating raw cookie dough. People now frown on this because of the raw eggs. As kids we ate raw cookie dough and licked sugary spoons anytime we had the opportunity. Licking the chocolate batter from the mixer beaters was the best part of baking a cake for funeral wakes. Luckily there was always a bit left in the bottom of the mixing bowl. And we drank water straight out of the hose all summer long. It was flavored with a hint of rubber and rust, but it was cold and refreshing when we were hot and sweaty from playing in the yard all day.  Apparently that’s bad now too – the hose not the yard. Of course the yard is dangerous if you aren’t slathered in a super high SPF broad-spectrum UVA/UVB sun blocking sunscreen with extra helioplex. 
Our front yard. Site of lots of
dangerous shenanigans.
And we ate peanuts. No one was allergic to peanuts. 
We picked never-organic strawberries straight off the ground at Aunt Virgie’s and ate them without rinsing them off. They were juicy and sweet and delicious, growing like ground cover beside the chicken coop. And how we loved to play in that chicken coop, no doubt surrounded by very organic chicken poop. The worst thing that happened was maybe a sunburn on our shoulders or a splinter from swinging on the poles where the chickens roosted.
Or was it? Maybe all these incredibly dangerous things have affected me. Jumping rope in chicken poop probably made me lactose intolerant? I bet peanuts are making these random hairs grow above my lip! And this warty thingy on my hand is probably from that dang water hose. 

talya

Musical Pairings:

Tim McGraw, “Back When”
Alabama, “High Cotton”

“Ugh! I’ve been kissed by a dog! I have dog germs! Get hot water! Get some disinfectant! Get some Iodine!” – Lucy Van Pelt

Do you believe in signs?

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Do you believe in signs? 
Years ago, I worked with a lady who believed when something fell from the grocery shelf as she passed by, she had no choice but to purchase that item. “It was a sign from above not to be ignored. That head of lettuce had reasoning skills and wanted to go home with her. It chose to be part of her dinner salad. Without a second thought or regret, she purchased a bruised apple or box of Fruit Loops.

Many folks imagine pennies on the parking lot are little signs from Heaven, messages from a departed loved one who still keeps watch. I like this idea, and what can it hurt? We could all use someone watching over us. But how do we know who it is?

At the horse track last week, we were convinced Daddy was sending us a very clear sign. A beautiful horse named T.Thomas was scheduled to run. With blinders on, we made our largest bet of the weekend, and backed that horse up with other smaller bets. Daddy would be so proud! He taught us everything we knew about gambling…


Anticipating that particular race all day, we toasted Daddy at post time. The starter pistol fired and “They’re offfff!” 

I never saw T.Thomas again. Did he go across the finish line? Did he fall down? Did he race at all? Crap!! He came in 5th, but may as well have been dead last. It was definitely a sign from Thomas —a sure sign we needed to stop farting away money at the horse track. That was so just like him.

That night as I rinsed my bra in the sink at the Arlington Hotel and realized my only remaining clean article of clothing was a Graceland t-shirt, I decided I needed to go home to Dallas. Being down to only an Elvis shirt is a clear sign the vacation is beyond over.

I know my tight jeans are a sign of too much food and not enough exercise. Yes, I can pretend to blame the dryer or the unbearable Texas humidity which makes my body bloat like Veruca Salt, but it’s a sign of too much queso flameado. There is nothing powerful or deep about it. 

After a 2 week absence, I finally made it back to my yoga core class. As I rolled out my yoga mat, there rolled tightly inside was a big dead fly. It was a sign and not a good one. The fly was symbolic of my recent lack of yoga practice. And after the ab work we did, I felt like a big dead fly. Walking to my car, a bright shiny penny sparkled on the sidewalk. I smiled.

talya

Musical Pairings:

The Sign, Ace of Base

“Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?” –Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

It’s raining. It’s pouring.

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Wow. Last night East Dallas was nearly washed away into White Rock Lake in the mammoth storm that seemed to hover above the city. Nearby thunder claps and brilliant flashes of lightning lit up the sky and our bedroom, keeping us awake much of the night. In a drought, we desperately need rain, especially since we all know very soon not a droplet will fall from the heavens until at least football season. But this weather show was a bit extreme, stuck over our house. I imagined the arena in The Hunger Games with acid rain and brutal storms manufactured by the evil Capitol. I was glad to be in my comfy bed instead of a wet cave like Katniss and Peeta. Finally I drifted off to sleep with Lucy and Annabelle curled next to me. The thunder even drowned out John’s soft snoring.


I was jolted awake by another wave of heavy rain and bright lighting, but feeling refreshed, I was already anticipating that first cup of coffee after such a long night. Grabbing my iPhone which doubles as a flashlight, I was shocked to discover it was only 12:03! What time did I go to sleep? Obviously, much too early.

At 1:30 I heard that unmistakable screeching sound on the television – like fingernails on a chalkboard – alerting anyone watching of an impending emergency. A tornado was probably headed our direction on its way to Arkansas, and we were all just lying here about to be swept away. Was Tate upstairs watching television, or did the ghost turn it on in an attempt to protect us? I quickly checked my iPhone weather channel, knocking my glasses to the floor in the process. There were 8 (!) weather watches for Dallas County- flash flood, river, airport and severe weather warnings. But thankfully no tornadoes. At some point I fell back asleep expecting to hear evacuation orders from the street.

And then John’s cell phone rang blasting us awake, again. Disoriented, he groped around on the night stand trying to locate it as the ringing continued. It was now 2:15. Never is good news delivered at 2:15. No one calls at 2:15 to say, “Congrats! You won the HGTV dream home!” Or, “You won the Publisher’s Sweepstakes!” Like that even exists. Immediately I worried about a thousand things in that 30 seconds. Why does bad news only come in the early morning hours, when your brain is stuffed with fuzzy cobwebs? 

“Who was it?” I mumbled still half asleep. John answered, “An automated phone message saying my Tel Aviv flight this morning is delayed”. WHAT? “You’re going to Tel Aviv? I was delirious. Did I hear him correctly? Rolling thunder shook the entire house, perfectly timed to emphasize this odd announcement. The windows rattled above my head. Did we have an earthquake too? Of course now I was fully alert, wondering why John was going to Tel Aviv and without my knowledge. He alleged it was a wrong number. Wrong numbers are totally welcome at 2:15.

Finally, after a bit of restless sleep, it was morning at long last. Although it was still dark and stormy, we no longer had to pretend to sleep, twisting and fighting the covers. John wore jeans to work in case he ends up in rushing water on Stemmons Freeway or is forced to abandon the building during midday. As he left the house, the morning news reported 162 American Airlines flights were cancelled. Someone’s arrival in Tel Aviv will be late tonight. And if its John, he better bring me back something good.


Happy first day of spring!

talya

Musical Pairings:

Maroon 5, “Come Away to the Water”
The Secret Sisters, “Tomorrow will be Kinder”

Food. Farm. Garden. Life.

THANKS FOR READING!