To Every Game There Is a Season

Hard to believe...Summer is coming to an end tonight, and Fall starts on Saturday. No...not on the calendar. I'm speaking of the wonderful World of Sports.

We just got home from our final Greensboro Grasshoppers (Single A-minor league team in the Florida Marlins system) game of the 2013 season. It's the last home stand against the Hickory Crawdads (gotta love minor league baseball teams' names...:-), Thirsty Thursday with $1 beverages, and fireworks! A triple play!! Since the Hoppers are 10.5 games back, any hopes for the Playoffs this year are just a field of so many dreams. Ah well...play ball!

Funny aside from the Hoppers game tonight: while Mr. T was foraging for food and beverages, I'm clapping, hollering, cheering...and generally having the usual good time. A Crawdad hits a pitch down the first base line, and the man sitting next to me turns to his wife, claps and says "it's a foul ball." About that same moment, I see the first/second base ump (it's minor league, remember...only two umps for four bases...:-) give the sign, and I said "no, it's a fair ball." A few minutes and several plays later, Man says "You're really into this, aren't you? Have you always enjoyed baseball?" 

Lord have mercy, if he only knew...

I think I may have shared with you before about me and my love-hate relationship with baseball. My grandfather Keaton...known to me as Papaw...played catcher on a semi-pro baseball team in Tennessee, back in the early 1910's, and he was always a keen Yankees fan. Daddy was Dixie Youth Baseball commissioner for Ripley, and my younger brother played every level of Dixie Youth (Little League through Senior) baseball there was...and got a baseball scholarship to college. From the time J could swing a bat and wear a glove, we were at the ball park every Summer week night. To keep my level of boredom in check, I helped out in the concession stand...I bet I can still make a mean Suicide (a horrible drink that is a mixture of several fountain beverages)! 

And if we weren't going to local Little League games or tournaments, we were shaping our vacations around baseball season...and going to major league games. Local-boy-makes-good Jim Hickman from Henning was an original Mets team player, then he played for the Cubs...and he got Daddy tickets for games in Atlanta, St. Louis, and Chicago on several occasions. I vividly remember going to a Braves game that went 17 innings! Is this ever going to end? I always said I didn't like baseball. B-o-r-i-n-g. Do you blame me?

Truthfully, I think I didn't like yielding my life to Dixie Youth baseball...without being able to participate myself. We didn't have softball opportunities like there were later, plus I'm a lousy base runner and weak fielder...no arm strength for throwing. But I guess I learned the mechanics of the game by association and acquired the passion genetically. No one was a bigger Braves fan than my mother! As I've aged, baseball has become like an old family friend...and I've embraced the relationship. I recognize what a big part of my life this game has occupied. Now, I can answer the Man with "yes, I guess I do enjoy it," and mean it.

We won, by the way. Hoppers 4 — Crawdads 3. And the fireworks were fantastic!

Moving on...

We pack our winner-winner-chicken-dinner tailgate basket and head to Durham on Saturday afternoon for our first Duke football game of the season. Kickoff is at 4:00. They offered the Family Plan again this year (4 General Admission tickets to all home games for small bucks), and we love the atmosphere at Wallace Wade Stadium. "What a cute little stadium!" we once heard an Alabama coed exclaim as she walked around the horseshoe to the visitors section. A throwback to days before college football became Big Business. At Duke, basketball is King and the cash-cow, so football can be fun. Easy parking, easy tailgating, easy getting to-and-from our seats...no hassle. Go Devils! (Unless you're playing my Memphis Tigers, like you are on September 7...then I change loyalties, even if I continue to wear the same color blue...:-)

Baseball. Football. Both in the same week. Can basketball season be too far off?

Doctor Day

Whew! I'm back home...got my feet up in my lounge-luge, with the replay of last night's Braves-Cards game on TV. Shhh...don't tell me who won...I didn't have time to read the paper this morning to see the score. It'll be like it's happening for the first time. Heck, as tired as I am, I'll probably fall asleep somewhere in the middle anyway...wake up during tonight's "live" game and still won't know the score of this replay. Sigh.

Ah well...I'm just having a late-day energy slump...nothing really wrong. With me, that is...more on that in a minute.

Busy couple of weeks here at Casa 3917. Some of the happenings are garden-related, since it's the time of the year when the summer harvest is coming in fast and furious. This week has been the peak harvest week for the Roma and the Juliet tomatoes, both of which are Determinate varieties...meaning their fruit ripens "all at once" (actually over several days to a couple weeks) and then they are done for the season...well, forever actually.

I've put up 10 freezer bags-full and two half-gallon freezer containers of tomatoes, so far, and we will enjoy them in chili, spaghetti, and soups throughout the coming winter months. Because the green, sweet red, and jalapeño peppers are also ready, I'm making salsa this week, too. Will finish that up tomorrow. Here's the post on our garden blog...click here to go there...

Had to take time out today, though, for Doctor Day...which is what I'm beginning to think that Friday has morphed into. Started out with Abbie's six-months' checkin-visit at the vet's for her bordatella booster...and a much needed nail trim. All's well with our no-longer 'baby puppy,' pictured in her harness on the ride home below. When the tech got her on the scale for the weigh-in...well, I was gob-smacked, as they say across the pond. She now weighs...wait for it, wait for it...

F O R T Y - N I N E and 1/2  P O U N D S ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

No way! It's not like she's fat...next to the Bassets, she still looks model-thin. And she sure is lean and muscular looking as she races around the Way Back. We aren't over-feeding her. If anything, we may have to check to see if we are feeding her enough, based on her weight. I've used the chart for 30-40 pounds when measuring out her 3/4 cup of kibble, for breakfast and dinner. 

For sure, Dr. K had guesstimated Abbie's adult weight (based on her 4-month checkin weight of 21 lbs.) as around 44-48 pounds. And the standards for adult Australian Shepherds (which her momma was) say 35-55 pounds, so we shouldn't be too surprised. But, I've thought of Abbie as a rat terrier (under 40 pounds adult weight) for so long...and I do believe her poppa was a holy terrier of some sort...that I was just floored when the display on the scales registered 49.5. Goodness gracious.

Oh well, something tells me it won't matter one iota when she leaps into my lap and takes up her usual position on the foot rest of my recliner...just like in this pic with Mr. T. 

Now, about that ice pack on his right shoulder...

After returning Abbie home and running a few errands,  it was time to head out to the orthopedic clinic. Mr. T had an appointment with the PA for evaluation of his continuing (and worsening) shoulder pain. Our primary care doc had ordered an X-ray last Friday, which showed what he called "chronic dislocated shoulder with a Hill-Sachs lesion." Say what?

First question: if you had a dislocated shoulder, don't you think you'd know it? Or, at least know when you dislocated it?

Second question: how can something be chronic if you've never had it before...to your knowledge?

Third question: what can be done to fix it...just fix it? 

The cortisone shot he had three weeks ago hasn't helped much, and it's too soon to give another. Celebrex, which is the best anti-inflammatory choice of the NSAIDS, is no longer working as well...and Dr. K (our primary care doc, not Abbie's vet...confusing, isn't it?) has warned Mr. T to stop taking additional aspirin and ibuprofen for pain relief, or suffer the consequences which will most likely be an ulcer. The pain pills (he's tried three kinds) cannot be taken if he has to drive (which is a big part of his job)...and aren't helping much at night. Heat doesn't work. Ice isn't giving much relief. Too much pain to get any help from therapy exercises. Double sigh. Triple, even.

Enter the PA today. She conducted a physical exam and didn't mention a dislocated shoulder, other than to say "if your shoulder were dislocated, you couldn't rotate your arm like that." She thinks it's a torn rotator cuff. And to confirm that, Mr. T needs an MRI. So, that's scheduled for...wait for it, wait for it...next Friday.

Or, should I say "next Doctor Day." Stay tuned...

Weaving In

I guess I could have titled this post "Tying Up Loose Ends," but I'm a knitter...and we don't tie them up, we weave them in.

Thread No. 1:

I was showing off my beautiful lap quilt that Missy M made me for my birthday when I realized I'd never shared a picture of it with you. Shame on me! Let me correct that oversight posthaste:

The front...

...and the reverse...

Beautiful! Missy M has such an amazing eye for color, although the pictures (taken with my iPad, using just the light from the ceiling fixture) don't do justice to the richness of the fabrics. Or the piecing. Or the stitching, for that matter. You'll have to trust me on how gorgeous this priceless gift is. Notice that she has finally started signing her works of art by placing a label on the reverse (upper left of the second picture). A teeny, tiny, itsy, bitsy label...but a label nonetheless. Thank you, my dear!

And although I get into trouble about it, I have chosen to display my quilt(s) she has made rather than put them into general use just yet. "Use them Mother (note the use of my "proper name"...;-)...that's what they are made for." I can't help it...I want to "keep them nice" for a while. Meaning: no dog drool, no dog hair. So, this one is currently draped over the ladder back chair at my place at the dining room table...and I smile every single time I see it.

Anyone who knows me knows how much I love and cherish all my quilts...and their stories. There's the Wedding Ring quilt that Momma gave us for a wedding present. Used it on our bed for a while, but it's now hanging on a wall quilt rack over our bed. Love it too much to subject it to daily doggie abuse.

There's the Dresden Plate quilt in blues...pieced by Cousin A from Dickson (remember? the one who just celebrated her 105th birthday?!) and quilted by the Pickerington (OH) Senior Center Quilting club. That one has matching pillow tops, too. It's displayed on a standing quilt rack, which was made by my Uncle Howard...keeping it "all in the family."

Then there's the Sunflower Quilt, purchased one breathtakingly beautiful Fall weekend in the Ozarks, at a craft fair on the Arkansas property where Momma and Aunt Bonnie took week-long classes...one in watercolors, the other in weaving...over several summers. We bought it from a lady, who was among dozens of quilt vendors that day. We included the quilter's card in the box we wrapped up for Momma's Christmas that year, intending to give her a lasting memory of her Arkansas adventure...and imagine all of our faces when Momma said "why, that's the same lady that made your Wedding Ring Quilt!" 

It's hanging in the den, along with a cotton boll quilt (made by one of Momma's former coworkers in the Covington Welfare office) and with my most-treasured quilt...which is actually just a piece of a quilt, artfully arranged to appear to be whole and folded. That one may be faded and torn and ragged, but it is a family heirloom: made by Ner, my (step) great-grandmother for Momma's 16th birthday (so, in the depths of the Depression), using pieces of fabrics saved from many of Momma's little girl dresses, which had been sewn by my grandmother...who died when Momma was just 5. It has been a bed quilt, a sofa cover, a picnic blanket, and a beach spread. It survived two house fires and too many moves to count...and it means the world to me.

And now, I have others in that treasured class: the first quilt Missy M made for us, which is in the guest bedroom; the first (and last!) king-size quilt she made, now displayed on a wall rack in the dining room; the quilted Christmas Tree skirt that comes out during the holidays; and the lap quilts she's made for Mr. T and me. All priceless. Priceless.

Thread No. 2:

Before I forget (yet again), this post might be a good place to share a couple of the photos (other than the 50 or so shots of the sunrise) we snapped at Oak Hollow Lake on the morning of my birthday...using the "reverse camera" feature on my phone. Both are a bit shaky, so don't expect too much...they will just give you a good idea of what 60 looks like at dawn. 

The first one I should have asked Mr. T to take, since his arm is longer than mine...and length helps to widen the shot. I was stretched to my limit, you might say, so steadiness was sacrificed.

The second one is just me...no makeup, barely awake, but happy all the same. You can judge for yourself how well I'm coping with the residual effects of Bell's Palsy, a little over a year later: still some slackness in the muscle around the corner of my mouth, some tension in the muscle around my left eye...so neither cooperate fully when my brain sends the signal to "Smile!"...but still able to smile, which I could not do this time last year. 

Three cheers for loose threads, quilt memories, and the difference a year can make!

First You Make a Roux...Redux

The okra is coming in, fast and furious from the Kitchen Garden...as are the Juliet and Roma tomatoes, green peppers, and onions. Check out the recent harvest! [You can read more about okra over on our Gardening With the Giants blog...click here to go there.]

Let's see...okra, tomatoes, green peppers, onions...that must mean it is Gumbo Time!

If this subject is sounding a bit déjà vu, you are right. I wrote about making gumbo last year in First You Make a Roux. You can read that one again, if you'd like...click here to go there.

Only, today, I simply don't have the time to stand over and stir a Dutch oven full of simmering okra stew ('cause that's what gumbo is...:-). Mainly because I'm standing over a kettle of boiling water, blanching more okra, more tomatoes, plus a peck of green beans...getting everything packed for the freezer. So the gumbo will have to develop all those lovely favors over on the other counter in the slow cooker.

Still, there's one step I won't forego for the sake of saving time: making the roux. I consider that an essential part of a true Louisiana-inspired gumbo...for that's where I learned to appreciate both gumbo and its namesake ingredient (the West African word for okra is "gumbo"), when we lived in Shreveport...and where I learned to make it, Bayou-style.

In Louisiana cooking, many recipes begin with the statement "First, you make a roux..." Several years ago, when in New Orleans for a conference sponsored by Mr. T's employer of the time, Idealease, I had the opportunity to attend a fantastic cooking class at the New Orleans School of Cooking. We made Gumbo, Jambalaya, Etouffee, and Pralines. I still have the recipes...and use some of the techniques I learned that day. The very first thing we learned was how to make a roux...light, medium, and dark...since three out of the four recipes started that way.

So, to make our Gumbo, first you make the roux...

...and then you let the slow cooker do the heavy lifting...or, in this case, all the tedious tending.
 

===========================

Sunday Supper Slow Cooker Gumbo

Ingredients:

3 tablespoons flour

3 tablespoons oil (can use part bacon grease)

1 large onion, chopped

1 large green bell pepper, chopped

2-3 stalks celery, chopped

2 cups cut okra

3 garlic cloves, minced

2 cups fresh, peeled tomatoes, like Romas

1 pod red pepper ( cayenne)

1 /2-1 Tablespoon seasoned salt like Tony Cacheries

1 teaspoon black pepper

1 cup shredded, cooked chicken, like leftover rotisserie-style, optional

1/2 cup leftover cooked ham, diced, optional

Chicken Stock

1-2 cups shelled deveined cooked medium shrimp

2 cups cooked long-grain white rice

Chopped parsley

Directions:

1. In a cast iron skillet, make a roux by combining flour and oil; mix well. Cook, stirring constantly, over medium-high heat for 5 minutes. Reduce heat to low; cook, stirring constantly, about 10 minutes or until mixture turns caramel brown. 

2. Add prepared veggies to the roux in the following order: onion, green pepper, and celery (stir for 1 minute); okra (stir for 1 minute); and, after adding a teaspoon of fat if needed, the garlic. Remove from heat. Put veggies in 3 1/2 to 4 quart Slow Cooker, set on High Setting.

3. Stir in all remaining ingredients except stock, shrimp, rice, and parsley. Cover. After 15 minutes, reduce heat to  low setting and cook for 6 hours. 

4. Add shrimp to gumbo mixture; mix well. If gumbo appears too thick, stir in some chicken stock. Cover; cook on low setting for additional 20 minutes. 

5. Serve gumbo over cooked rice, garnished with chopped parsley. Enjoy with French bread...so you can get every, last bite!