Month: October 2017

Halloween For The Costume Impaired

By Anita Garner

I’m not so good at Halloween preparations, but fortunately my daughter is, so I get to be the appreciator while the Grand and her mother concoct elaborate costumes.  Last year the young one was Flo from Progressive, with her hair sprayed black and that little hump on the top just like Flo’s teased hairdo.

This year she’s going as her favorite rock star who sometimes dresses as a ringmaster.  Red coat with black trim, vest, white gloves, top hat, eyeliner, the whole thing.

Picture this worn by a young lady.

Once I did paint the Grand’s toenails orange and black and made a messy job of it, but my contribution to the season was no less heartfelt, so I took a picture.

I’m good at Halloween treat selection, especially when confronted with bags of bite size candy bars. One caution for fellow treat shoppers: Pre-Halloween sampling.

Flannel Season

By Anita Garner

“Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns.”

-George Eliot

Hello, October!

I hear October arriving without checking the calendar. There are just enough leaves collecting in small drifts to make an autumn sound and just enough leaves moving around so I can look out the window and follow the progress of one leaf floating down. When leaves leave, it’s an occasion for celebration around here.

October is the start of flannel season in Northern California.  Everything’s in place. Plaid shirts are in the closet.  Flannel sheets are on the bed. The down comforter came out of storage and took a few turns in the dryer, fluffing up for  the next few months.

Some say Spring is renewal time, but for me autumn promises everything good.

It’s not just the fragrance of pumpkin and cinnamon and nutmeg, though I will never underestimate their impact. There’s also the anticipation of fireplaces and rainstorms. I wouldn’t mind if autumn stayed around forever.

******

Dear Coffee

I wonder how coffee got to be known as cuppa Joe or java?  Well now I do want to know.  Be right back.  Here’s what Google says.

Coffee is known as Joe because Joe is slang for a common fellow and coffee was considered a common man’s drink. As for java, when coffee became popular in ye olden times, the main source of the world’s coffee was the island of Java. 

This light-up reminder for my bookshelf was a gift. Even Elvis seems pleased about it. 

By all its names I love caffeine.  I love it hot or iced, sweet or not, straight or creamy.  I will finish this with a love note.  It’s no ode, but then what is these days?

Dear Coffee,

You know how I feel about you.  Though some think we should see less of each other, I treasure the hours we’ve spent together, talking on the radio, writing, running into each other mid-afternoons at random places. I may drink fewer cups per day but nothing can diminish the memories of our frequent over-indulgences.  See you here again next week.

                                                 Anita

 

 

 

This light-up reminder for my bookshelf was a gift. Even Elvis seems pleased about it.

Dear Coffee

I wonder how coffee got to be known as cuppa Joe or java?  Well now I really do want to know. Be right back…

Here’s what Google says.

Coffee is known as Joe because Joe is slang for a common fellow and coffee was considered a common man’s drink. As for java, when coffee became popular in ye olden times, the main source of the world’s coffee was the island of Java.

This light-up reminder for my bookshelf was a gift. Even Elvis seems pleased about it.

?By all its names I love caffeine.  I love it hot or iced, sweet or not, straight or creamy.  I will finish this with a love note.  It’s no ode, but then what is these days?

 

Dear Coffee,

You know how I feel about you.  Though some think we should see less of each other, I treasure the hours we’ve spent together, talking on the radio, writing, running into each other mid-afternoons at random places. I may drink fewer cups per day but nothing can diminish the memories of our frequent over-indulgences.  See you here again next week.

                                             Anita