Two Busy Weekends, and really not much time to blog in between. On Friday, July 16th, Bob and I picked up Lindsey in Indy and went to Effingham, where we watched my cousin Rich's band (The Naked Sissy's) perform at the Orchard Inn. We hadn't heard them and tried all last summer to catch them, but it never worked out, so we decided early this summer that this would be our Naked Sissy's Weekend. We were joined there by Jeff & Megan, cousins, Lisa and Cary, Lori and Dan, and ran into many other noteworthy folks. Sidenote: I wonder why they use the possessive form of Sissy's? and not plain old Sissies?? The Naked Sissy's....what? I saw four sissies in that band. Hmmm. I wanted to ask but didn't want to come off like some nitpicky English teacher....I took this crappy picture of my cousin, and then my camera battery ran out of juice and I was finished taking crappy pictures for that weekend.





On Saturday, Bob and Lindsey and I drove down to Lori and Dan's in Carbondale to see their house and to tour the wine trail in Shawnee National Forest. It was very, very hot there, and a huge dog followed us into the tasting room at one winery, seeking refuge in the cool air. He hid under the counter between us and slapped a giant paw on my sandled-foot, in some kind of desperate plea not to rat him out or the proprietor would toss him back out into the hot parking lot. He was a big Newfoundland named Bandit. Here he is with Lindsey. Note that Lindsey is not holding a wine glass, but a bottle of Saluki Dunkeldog beer, bottled by Big Muddy Brewery. After tasting some wine (and beer) we went back to Dan and Lori's lovely house and grilled some brats and began food preparation for the Hankins' family reunion to be held the next day back in Effingham. Here's a picture of Lindsey and Baleigh taken just before serious cookie baking commenced. (Baleigh after a long hot day of tournament softball) To the right of Lindsey, you might notice a piece of my luggage, which I love dearly. It's Etienne Aigner and I've had it for eleven years. It's very distinct and easy to spot on the baggage carousel. I never want to part with it.





Sunday, the 18th began like Saturday the 17th had ended - hot - very, very hot. But, as we were driving north a big storm passed through the area and we arrived at Community Park just as the rain was letting up, and the temperature dropped significantly and there was a breeze, and well, I think God must have been smiling down on the Hankins' reunion because it was the best day they'd had there in weeks. Here's a picture of most of the family members present that day. I took the liberty of having some shirts printed up that said "Hawkshawfest 2010." That's because our grandpa used to tell us that we were part Hawkshaw Indian, which of course, we aren't, as there is no such tribe. However, some younger cousins, not wanting to doubt his word, bought into the notion. So anyway, it's a running joke and here are some of the Hawkshaw tribe members - Scotsmen and women posing as Native Americans:

Last week I filled in for Sally at the park department for the very last time because Sally is retiring at the end of this week. She's worked there for 23 years, and I've been filling in for her when she goes on vacation for the last 12 years or so. There will be a doin's for her on her last day. On Saturday morning, Bob and I traveled to Wilkes Barre, Pennsylvania to surprise our dear friend, Stormy for her birthday. We were waiting for them at one of their favorite restaurants, and I do believe that she was truly surprised. Here we are at the restaurant. On Sunday we went into New York to see an exhibit at the Metropolitan Art Museum. American Woman: Fashioning a National Identity.



















We drove back to Wilkes Barre Sunday evening. I had baked a carrot cake for her birthday and here we are eating it.








And one more shot - but is this a picture from the Met?

Heck, no. This Winged Victory replica is in Nick and Stormy's bedroom! How cool is that? All we've got in our bedroom is a silk ficus, which really should be pitched in the trash.



So, there you have it. I've got nothing going on this week at all, so maybe I'll get some cooking done. Thanks for stopping by!!!!

All My Saplings. A couple of posts ago, I complained some about Bob's campaign to replenish the forest by nurturing every little seedling that manages to take root in our yard, no matter where it might choose to call home. If it happens to be a flower bed, well, I'm supposed to leave it alone. If it happens to sprout in the yard, he protects it with some black plastic tubing, and I'm supposed to mow around it. Here are some of Bob's children. This first one is at the edge of the garden. Bob says it's going to have a beautiful shape when it grows up. Hi Maddie. She decided to pose here without even being asked.




This is a beech tree that will replace the one we had to cut down in order to add on the dining room. Umm, that's my finger in the shot. Sorry












This one is is marked by a couple of green sticks that alert whoever might be mowing or trimming to "back off!"








This one is in the middle of my flower bed and I have to let it grow there, but I don't know why or for how long.






This is the small elm that we have to let grow because it will replace the big Happy-Face Elm, should it ever decide to keel over.












I have no idea what the heck is going on here, but I have to mow around it.















And finally, the piece de la resistance. I like to call this oak tree, "Bob Junior," who began as just an acorn. Bob has been encouraging and nurturing Junior along for some ten years. (again, with the finger at the top) Sorry.











These are also Bob's saplings: Kacey, Lindsey, and Rob.
















My Disturbing Church Directory Story: Yesterday Bob and I had our picture taken for the church directory and the young lady photographer encouraged us to celebrate our upcoming 30th anniversary by buying a special three picture set in a frame that featured the two us in the center and individual shots on each side. She said it would be a good idea for us to have some individual pictures taken that could be used as obituary shots, if needed!!!!!!!

Yes, you heard me correctly. Well, I admit I was shocked at first, but Bob and I, we looked at each other like that was a perfectly reasonable thing to do and we bought the *@#!!! thing. Can't wait to get it. As I told my Facebook Friends, last week's insult of finding a sensible footwear catalog in the mailbox pales in comparison to this week's recommendation that we get ourselves some obituary pictures ready in the desk drawer.

Tip of the Week from my Farmer's Almanac Calendar:

To climb a coconut tree, place one hand high on the back of the trunk and the other at chest level on the front of the trunk. Put your bare feet on the trunk, one on each side, frog-legged. Push on the trunk with hands and feet and lift your body up. Get back into frog position and start again. (sounds simple enough) PRACTICE CLOSE TO THE GROUND!

Hope your 4th of July weekend was full of family, friends, fun, food, and fireworks. Here we are setting out to watch the display on Sylvan Lake, courtesy of Rick, Cathy, Kevin, and Tina. Their two boats were tied together and sported thirty fireworks watchers and one Turner Cup, which weighs as much as a small person. Cathy took this picture of the four of us and I pilfered it off Facebook. Thanks, Cathy. You're the best.

My Disturbing Walmart Story.

Yesterday I went to Walmart and I was trying to get to the broccoli, but this family had the produce aisle blocked. The mother was feeding a bottle to a baby in the cart and talking really nasty-mean to the "father-person" in the group. Apparently he wasn't doing something right. I circled around and came at the broccoli from the other direction and encountered more family members - blonde twin girls, about three years old. They were both taking bites out of the broccoli crowns and then putting them back. And they were biting that broccoli with a vengeance! Well, I just stood there, slack-jawed and flabbergasted because, well, first of all - three-year-old's eating raw broccoli like little rabbits in a garden is odd in itself. There was no raw broccoli being consumed by children in the Pillers' home, not-nobody, not-no-how. I was also staring because the mother and "father-person" were allowing this produce-molestation to happen . And to make matters worse, the "father-person" notices me staring with astonishment, so he whacks both little girls in the head!

I opt to go with the cellophane-wrapped broccoli and hurry away. I try to report the crime, but could not find any floor workers, so when I paid, I told the checkout lady, who summoned a manager, and I'm telling them both about the family, and the dirty-deed, and the whopping, and the manager says "Oh, I bet that's them right there." They're in the next lane behind me, checking out.

Since my job was done there, I scurried to the parking lot (avoiding eye contact) where I immediately called Lindsey and told her my disturbing story. She told me to just stay out of Walmart.

I needed that broccoli so I could make pasta salad. There's nothing like cold pasta salad on a hot summer evening. I made two kinds, the creamy shell pasta salad (recipe in the 2009 archives) and a sweet pasta salad, which I had never tried before. I really like it and Bob liked it too, so here's the recipe for you to try, if you want.

Sweet Pasta Salad

1 lb tri-color rotini

1/3 cup oil

3/4 cup white vinegar

3/4 cup water

1 cup sugar

1/2 tsp salt

1/2 tsp. pepper

2 tsp. garlic powder

2 Tablespoons parsley

1 medium purple onion

1 diced cucumber

1/2 cup diced green pepper

1 cup chopped celery

Boil pasta. Drain. Dissolve in separate saucepan: oil, vinegar, water, sugar, salt, pepper, garlic powder and parsley. Combine all and chill for several hours.