JUST2GYPSIES

 

 This is who we are...

Passionate creators of art.

Gentle lovers of nature.

Fierce protectors of animals.

Loyal defenders of our Tribe.

Quick to laugh.

Not afraid to weep.

We are Strong.  

We are Enough.

We are JUST 2 GYPSIES.

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This is What We Do--

We Create. 

We handcraft our own soaps, our shampoos, our hair conditioner bars in small batches.  We use all natural ingredients and time-honored methods.  (You can find our products for sale here:)

 

 

 

 We grow our own herbs, and some of our vegetables.  We make our own pies and cakes, breads and butters.  Occasionally, we make our own chevre (goat's milk cheese).  We enjoy baking and cooking, creating and sharing our own recipes... (You can find some of our favorites here.)

 

 

 

 

 

We draw and paint. We do needlework and sew.  We work with wood.  (You can see some of our work in our blog posts, "Building A Gypsy Wagon...") 

 

 

 

 

 We give new life to unwanted antiques--rescuing them from scrap piles, yard sales, and second hand stores.  We lovingly clean them, repair them, paint them, repurpose them... Some, we keep; some, we sell. (Some are available in our online shop:)

 

  

We drum.

We kayak on nearby rivers.

We embrace Life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If You Need A New Roof On Your House...

 If you need a new roof on your house...

Do you hire an experienced roofer--one that is qualified to do the job?

    

Or do you hire an ex-football star that has never hammered a nail?  Or been on a roof?  Just because you liked him on a football field?

 

If your car needs a new transmission...

Do you hire a qualified, experienced auto  mechanic?

 

Or do you hire a non-practicing doctor/ex-TV personality that has never raised a car hood?  And doesn't know what a transmission is?  Just because you liked him on TV?

  

Choose responsibly.  Vote for the person that can do the job. 

 Don't be left in the rain with no way out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Just Two Gypsies' Worst Thanksgiving Ever

 Thanksgiving 2021 will go down in Gypsy Family History as The Worst Thanksgiving Ever...

The whole week started off with an ominous bang when we had to rush Twyla Rose to the Emergency Vet Clinic Tuesday night.  (Twyla Rose is a much-loved tri-colored beagle, and is the absolute center of our family unit. Twyla has been undergoing treatment for leukemia since early April.)

Twyla was admitted and treated for pneumonia.  Wednesday morning, we were told that she was "alert and bouncing around", and that she could possibly go home later in the afternoon.  Siobhan and I scurried around, getting things ready for sweet Twyla's homecoming; we washed her bedding, vacuumed and cleaned the carpet, placed ferns and houseplants near her bed, and filled the refrigerator with all her favorite foods. Now all we had to do was wait on the call to go pick her up.

Then disaster struck.  The oncologist called with the news that Twyla's lymph nodes had doubled in size since 7 days ago.  The cancer was growing unchecked--the stronger chemotherapy didn't work.  She recommended euthanasia.  Now.  

Siobhan and I were devastated, but we were not in denial.  We knew there was no cure for leukemia.  We knew the end was coming.  We didn't know it was today.  We had already ordered a truly beautiful child's coffin--all the pet casket companies were on long-term back-order--it was to be delivered next Monday.  We couldn't wait for Monday... So we opted to have her cremated instead--but it's The Holidays.  Everything is in limbo for now.

So Siobhan and I went home, and proceeded to Drink.  (Myself more so than Siobhan.) And PRAY--please don't lose our dog.  Or her ashes.

Wednesday arrived, and we slogged through our usual farm chores and house work.  Then we tried to make a couple of casseroles a day early, thinking it would ease some of the cooking workload for tomorrow.  HA!

We made a green bean casserole.  Later, I found the evaporated milk that was supposed to go in it (!). Sigh. We made a sweet potato casserole--the topping never looked right...it just looked really dry and crumbly.  (In the middle of the night, I woke suddenly and realized, "I never added the melted butter!")  Oh well.

Thursday morning rolled around, and I boiled the eggs for the devilled eggs.   (Yeah, they were store-bought--our hens are ON BREAK, and I had to buy eggs--and they were fresh. ) Of course they wouldn't peel--of course they were a DISASTER.  Four hours later, and I am still struggling to peel these bastards.  They've been UNREFRIGERATED the whole time.  POTENTIAL  FOOD POISONING!!

 

Then Liam got the tin foil, lard bucket, and charcoal ready to cook our traditional Turkey-In-A-Bucket.  And after "thawing" that 10 lb. turkey in the refrigerator for 4 days, it was still frozen!! Fast-forward to the microwave for "flash thawing"--again, POTENTIAL FOOD POISONING!!  TIMES TEN!!!

 So...5 or 6...(or maybe 7!!) mimosas later, I don't even care. What's a little food poisoning between friends?!?   Our dog just died.  My mother can't even remember 5 minutes ago.  My sister, Saphrona,  just got out of the hospital with "Crack lung" for the 3rd time this year.  My aunt and uncle are in a nursing home.  My brother is still crazy.  Some things never change.

I am thankful that Siobhan, Liam, and I are still alive--and I'm thankful for our health.  I'm thankful for our remaining 2 dogs, 3 horses, 2 cats, and 12 chickens.  And I'm thankful for my memories...Happy Thanksgiving.

 

 

Justice For George Floyd

 God, give me strength.  I'm waiting, along with most of America, to hear the verdict in the Derek Chauvin trial...God, we all know Chauvin is guilty of murder.   What else could Derek Chauvin have been waiting for but Death, with his knee on George Floyd's neck for 9 minutes and 20-some seconds?  He was waiting on the man to die--there is truly nothing else he could have been waiting for.  It was a very calculated and very deliberate murder. 

Please, God--give the jury the courage to convict this guilty, remorseless man.  This gypsy's heart aches for George Floyd. 

"... let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream."  --Amos 5:24

Little Irish Boy, It's YOUR Day...

 

 Happy Saint Patrick's Day.  Yes, it's a doll.  And NO, I don 't have a doll collection.  Just the one.

 Mother particularly liked to throw out our toys before we were through playing with them.  Consequently, none of my dolls survived childhood...I bought this little guy just 3 or 4 years ago.   But he's Irish, and Today is His Day.  I owe it to Him to share his story...

One October evening, three or four years ago, I was browsing on Ebay, looking for leprechaun dolls to go in Siobhan's and Liam's  Christmas stockings.  (My whole Christmas theme was "Ireland" that year--most of their gifts were  made in Ireland...sweaters, socks, jewelry, etc.)  

I scrolled past goofy "Lucky Charm" leprechauns.  

 

 

I scrolled past smirking, sly leprechauns.

 

 

 I scrolled past slightly drunk leprechauns (sigh).

 

Then I came across a photo of an Irish doll for sale--not a leprechaun at all, but a small porcelain doll.   Sweet and solemn, his little face had a crack below one eye--it looked for all the world like he was crying.  

As a rule, I don't particularly like dolls.  I certainly don't buy them.  Strange that this little Irish doll would have such an instant hold on me... He wasn't even remotely what I was looking for--but for some reason, that sad little face kept drawing me back. 

For several days, I browsed and shopped Irish and leprechaun dolls and figurines on Ebay.  Again and again, I looked at this sad little guy's ad.   His minimum bid was only .99; even at that, no one was bidding on him.  As the auction clock ticked toward zero,  I contemplated the fate of this little Irish lad.  In my heart, I knew that he was destined for the dust bin.  No wonder he looked so sad.   Still, I didn't need him.  Still, he drew me back.

At the last minute, I bid .99--and won the auction. Three days later, he arrived in a shoe box, complete with his cracked "tear-marked" face and a gaping hole in his forehead.  Siobhan kept saying, "Wait!  I'm confused!  You bought A DOLL?  A BROKEN DOLL?  Why?!"   I told her that I had to buy him, because his sad little face kind of haunted me.  Siobhan gave the little doll her best Side-Eye look and said, "I know he haunts me!!"  We both laughed.  But I did save the doll from the dust bin.  Mission accomplished--or so I thought.  I stood my little Irish boy on my desk, and promptly forgot about him.  

 Days and weeks went by, each one rich in the infinite variety of life on a farm, but all unremarkable.  Then one October night, I had a dream...

In that dream, Siobhan and I were hosting a Halloween party for riding students, just as we did years ago.  Straw bales and corn shocks dotted the farmyard.  Colored lights and streamers were strung around the garden.  In every nook and cranny, carved jack-o-lanterns grinned and winked.  A scavenger hunt was in progress, and our farm was overrun with laughing, pushing, squealing children. 

In my dream, Siobhan and I stood by the garden gate, marveling at some of the costumes, as groups of children drifted by.  Suddenly Siobhan said, "Hey Mom--LOOK!  A boy is dressed like your Little Irish Boy!"  I looked, and he was--EXACTLY like my Little Irish Boy.  Same hat.  Same shirt and vest.  Same pants.  Same face--just a little older.  Yet something was different.  This boy had scars where the doll's damage had been.

I approached the child, and tentatively asked him, "What happened to your face?"  He gave me a puzzled look and said, "Don't you remember?  You never got it fixed."  

I woke up with a pounding heart, a guilt-ridden conscience, and a resolve to get the doll's face repaired as fast as possible.  I found a Doll Hospital online that sounded really nice.  I emailed them photos of  the little boy's damage, along with measurements, manufacturer, etc.  They emailed me an estimate of $875.00.  (Not saying these folks were ripoffs, but that's a lot of money to repair a doll that you can still buy in stores--unbroken--for $7.95.  Just saying. )

I couldn't afford the doll hospital, but I couldn't afford to just forget about it, either...I didn't want the little boy to be scarred forever in my dreams, and I really didn't want him to haunt me.  (I don't know if the "haunted " dolls they sell on Etsy are for real, but let's face it folks--my doll apparently IS.)  So I searched online until I found doll repair putty and porcelain paint in various flesh tones, along with a set of plastic sculpting and smoothing tools.  DIY! Perfect!

 My putty and paint order arrived, and I went to work...I filled the hole in the little boy's forehead, and smoothed it as best I could.  I carefully filled the tear track cracks below his eye, and delicately sanded over his freckles.  Not too bad for my first attempt!

 I checked the package for drying instructions, and read:  Cut oven on lowest setting, and place the doll on oven rack; prop oven door open with a wooden spoon; bake doll for 4 hours.  (Yikes! Are they kidding me?!  No Way am I doing that--can you imagine the nightmares I'd have?!)  Instead, I let him air dry for 7 days, and then painted his face as best I could.  He's not perfect, but I think the Little Irish Boy is happy now.   No more bad dreams.

 

                             HAPPY ST. PATRICK'S DAY TO MY LITTLE IRISH BOY!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

FINALLY--just2gypsies are back...

Hi--Grainne here...by myself at the moment.  Liam is  in the bedroom, watching a stupid race.  (sorry.)  Siobhan is in her bedroom, laughing at the stupid emails I sent her earlier...(What can I say--she has an excellent sense of humor.)

I'm sorry it's been so long since my last post...and I do apologize--at least a little--for my last few posts being so political.  Gypsies, as a rule, are not political, but I can't seem to help it...Like all true gypsies, I am a tree hugger, nature lover, and a conversationist at heart...Just look at our gypsy flag.

"Blue sky above me, green grass below me, open road before me..."

That is my motto, my heart's longing, mine (and my ancestors) creed...My heart does ache at Donald Trump's stupid, heartless policies that are destroying our natural resources, our national parks, our air and water,  our very nation. My heart breaks at his constant chipping away at the rule of law, the checks and balances of our government, the very freedom that our democracy guarantees us. (Gypsies, of all people, value freedom.)  And gypsies, more so than most of society's groups, are family-oriented; we cannot tolerate the thought of ANY children in cages.  What really breaks my heart?  Those children are still in cages, but people don't even talk about it any more.

Which is the main reason I fell of the radar for a while. That and the fact that my family and I are a lot older now, have a myriad of health problems, and I can't very well poke fun at them, even tongue-in-cheek. So I took to drinking like a fish, instead.  (Ahh, mimosas!)

 How are the Freak Show, you ask?  Well,  Mama is still meaner than the devil--87 and still hell on wheels.  I avoid her all I can.  Saphrona almost died from an opiate overdose a few months back, and seems to have quite a bit of permanent brain damage.  I visit her all I can.  Eamon had a stroke at work but miraculously recovered, and still hates everybody and everything. 

Sioban had a horrible allergic reaction a year ago to oral Lamasil (prescribed because she had what appeared to be a fungal infection under ONE fingernail) and suffered for 9+ months from a head-to-toe rash (that looked for all the world like a sunburn).  All the skin on her whole body peeled REPEATEDLY from head to toe (even in her ears.)  Months later, when the rash and peeling finally stopped, then her hair began to fall out.  My poor beautiful, sweet, kind, compassionate Siobhan.  Thankfully she is much better now--her lovely hair is growing back, her skin is clear, and she is off all medication. Thank God.

So... we are back!

And in spite of Trump, the corona virus, crappy Cigna, and the medical bills--Spring is coming, and happier posts are ahead.

Stay Tuned--

Grainne and Siobhan
Just2Gypsies

My Husband Is An Asshole...

Okay...My husband is an asshole.  There--I've said it.  And while it may sound harsh, I promise you, it's true.

From time to time, Liam will pick a random day where he will bitch/fuss/complain/etc. about how much money is being spent in our household online.  On credit cards.  Today is one of those days.

I admit to buying things on Ebay--yes, I admit to buying $360.00 worth of CPAP supplies(Cigna supplier's price) for $52.00 (Ebay seller's price)--but, hey...WHO WOULDN'T?!?   I DO need these things.   And YES--I do need to breathe at night!!!

I admit to spending $31.95 on Amazon for Dentiva Dry Mouth  lozenges--but the same lozenges cost twice that at the local drug store.  (When you can find them.)   And our dentist swears by them for preventing cavities due to dry mouth...(which Siobhan definitely does have).

And YES, I  did buy dog supplements from Chewy instead of from our local vet--Chewy is considerably cheaper, and has free shipping.   So what is wrong with that?!

And last, but not least--YES, I DID buy a few clothes on Ebay in the last eight months...a USED pair of KEEN SANDALS for $30 (a new pair s over $100.00)two pairs of used shorts, and one pair of used Levi capris.  So all my new clothes are USED, while all your new clothes came from Belk.  (I know, because I bought them.)

Remind me again why you're complaining?!

Easter Greetings From Just2Gypsies, Grainne And Siobhan!

Easter Greetings!

WE'RE BAAAACK! 

At this very moment, Siobhan and I are elbow-deep in our own Easter traditions--boiling and dying Easter eggs; filling candy baskets ( for each other and for Liam); eating Peeps and Peeps and more Peeps...

 I'm washing mine down with glasses (pleural) of  Dennis Vineyards Spring Muskadine Wine.  (You can order your own at:  www.dennisvineyards.com)

 Siobhan is washing hers down with multiple (also pleural) peep-tinis (recipe to follow).

Ingredients

1.5oz Sobieski Lemon Meringue Vodka

0.5oz white chocolate liqueur

1oz cream

sugar, for rim

Peep, for garnish

Directions

Dip rim of chilled martini glass into sugar to coat. Add Sobieski Lemon Meringue Vodka, white chocolate liquor and cream in a cocktail shaker with ice. Shake and strain into sugar coated martini glass. Garnish with a Peep and serve. Tip: you can cut a slit in the bottom of the Peep to help it stay on the rim of the glass!

The fact that Siobhan's recipe calls for marshmallow rabbits led to a lengthy discussion on Peeps.  Being the senior authority on Peep anatomy, type, genus, sub-genus, etc., I contend that only chick-shaped Peeps are true Peeps.  All the others--rabbits, jack-o-lanterns, and snowmen--are not legitimate Peeps, and are therefore Bastard Peeps. Siobhan obviously doesn't agree with this theory, as she is snorting with laughter, and Peep-tini is coming out her nose.  Regardless of my daughter's Spraying Fountain act, I assure you it's true-- all of the  non-chick peeps are commonly known as Little Bastards. These should always be eaten first, just to put them out of their misery.

As to Peep anatomy--they all have a bad case of Gone-Ass (flat bottoms), and no legs at all.  The least said, the better.

Another common Easter misconception concerns chocolate rabbits.  Most folks assume the ears are the best place to begin eating one.  Well, that is just Wrong.  The kindest way is to whack his entire head off with a meat cleaver, and after waiting 20-30 minutes, eat the whole thing.

As I look around our kitchen, I realize that all Easter candy is either an animal or an animal by-product (lambs, chicks, rabbits, eggs). Which kinda raises a whole new set of questions...What kind of candy do vegetarians put in their children's baskets? Do they have candy bean sprouts and marshmallow soy beans?  Chocolate tofu?   Do they dye their boiled potatoes? Hmmm...After a few more glasses of wine, I might call up a few and ask them.  Meanwhile...

Happy Easter!  

Just2Gypsies/ Grainne'sTruly Southern Easy Cheesy Pimento Cheese Recipe

Our summer days have turned long and lazy... Each day the relentless sun beats down, hour upon hour, searing everything in its path.  The air hums with the droning sounds of crickets, of frogs, of cicadas.  A low growl of thunder rumbles in the distance.  The heat is oppressive, the air is heavy and still...Now we long for a cooling breeze, and we welcome a stray thunderstorm like a long-lost friend, grateful for the small measure of relief it gives.  For a short while.

Days such as these are not spent in the kitchen.  Nor are they spent by an open fire.  We long for foods that cool our senses, foods that temper the heat of summer.  Idly I drift to and fro in my weathered porch rocker, a glass of sweet tea in my hand, and dream of such soul-quenching sustenance...



 I find myself daydreaming about pimento cheese...Seriously.  Not that tasteless, plastic-looking Donald Trump Orange crap that they sell in the grocery store-- REAL pimento cheese.  Home-made pimento cheese.  Pimento cheese made the old-fashioned way--with sharp cheddar cheese, real pimentos, and Duke's Mayonnaise.  ( not Kraft, not Hellman's, not Miracle Whip--It HAS to be Duke's.  It says so in the Bible.  AND the Constitution.)



Folks, I'm talking a Southern Pimento Cheese Sandwich...Pimento cheese slathered lovingly between two slices of fresh White Wheat bread.  Pimento cheese, gently blanketed by a juicy slice of vine-ripened garden tomato, lightly salted and peppered.  Heaven on a plate!  And the perfect sandwich on a hot summer day...

 

 Grainne's Truly Southern Easy Cheesy Pimento Cheese Spread Recipe

3 cups freshly grated sharp cheddar cheese
1 (4 oz.) jar of diced pimentos, drained
1/2 cup Duke's Mayo (more may be added if a creamier texture is desired)
salt and pepper to taste

Grate cheddar cheese into large bowl; add drained pimentos, salt and pepper, and stir; add Duke's mayo and stir well.

Spread between two slices of fresh white bread (home-made or store-bought), along with a hefty slice of red, ripe tomato, salt and pepper.  Savor the Southern Flavor.
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*Store leftovers in an airtight container and refrigerate.  Will keep in refrigerator for up to two weeks. 

 **P.S.  Note to Paula Deen--I saw your recipe--Real Southern Women use Real Cheddar Cheese and Real Duke's Mayo--NOT Philadelphia Cream Cheese!  Pah!



  

Letter To PETA / The End Of Barnum And Bailey Circus...

Through no fault of their own, 600+ people employed by Ringling Bros Barnum and Bailey Circus will soon be unemployed.  Ringling's veterinarian staff will probably find work elsewhere.  The folks that put up and take down tents might luck up on a job moving rental equipment.  But a small percent of these people are ringmasters, aerialists, acrobats, animal trainers, and clowns--all of which are highly skilled entertainers,  most at the top of their field.  Sadly, none of their remarkable skills will help these poor folks find employment--not with today's economy, not in today's job market.  The biggest percentage of circus employees are the hard-working vendors--the ticket takers, the snack and souvenir sellers..  Unfortunately, there is little or no demand elsewhere for their skill--in spite of their years of experience and job dedication. All of their careers are over, their job prospects are none--thanks to PETA.

Most of these circus employees live in small furnished apartments in the Ringling railroad cars.  When they lose their jobs (along with their medical coverage), they also lose their homes.  So along with their families, their children, and their pets, they are facing imminent homelessness, followed by destitution and hunger.  Let's face it--without a permanent physical address, they can't even sign up for unemployment.  Or welfare.  Or food stamps.  So no job.  No income.  No home.  No medical coverage. Their future is nothing but grim--thanks to PETA

And what will happen to the elephants that PETA has fought so long to "free"?  Ringling Bros. had a wonderful plan for retiring them--in a beautiful natural area on their own property in Florida, where they could be studied for educational and conservation purposes...But with no income from the circus to fund it, chances of that  plan coming to fruition are looking slim.  More than likely, the intended property will be sold along with the other circus assets.

What will happen to the elephants then?  They couldn't be released in the wild--they're domestic animals that were born in captivity...They could not survive in their natural habitat. They can't be sold to private homes--even if you could afford their feed, housing, and veterinary care,  laws surely prohibit private ownership of any exotic animal as large and potentially dangerous as an elephant.  So where does PETA suggest the elephants go?  To even smaller circuses, where living quarters are even smaller, hay is often moldy, feed is sometimes scarce, handlers are not always trained, and veterinary attention is non-existent?  Not to mention the elephants will then be right back in the same situation PETA supposedly "rescued" them from.  In reduced circumstances, these elephants will face hunger, medical neglect, and abuse--thanks to PETA.

 Possibly one or two elephants might find a home in a zoo, where food is more plentiful and medical care available... But will these lucky few be happy, separated from the other circus elephants--losing their "family",  their companions, the only "herd" they've ever known?   Will the zoo's elephants accept these newcomers--or will they be run off from the herd, shunned by the rest, forced to live a life of  loneliness and solitude?  Their outlook is bleak--thanks to PETA.

The other circus animals will fare no better...The lions and tigers will face a similar fate as the elephants.  Their horses and ponies?  They're trained to work in a small ring, ridden bareback as a vaulting horse or else performing tricks without a rider. These are intelligent, well-trained animals, but this is the only work they know how to do.  Re-training a horse is timely and expensive.  With horses being both cheap and plentiful, "retired" circus horses have very little chance of finding a good home....

 These noble, beautiful horses will  leave behind a life of glamour...A life with loving attention, plentiful food, daily grooming and proper exercise. A life that most horses only dream of.  Unfortunately, once the circus closes, these horses will face the same sad fate as the majority of today's horses...Most will pass through a long succession of owners,  with treatment and living conditions steadily worsening as they age. Some will die of starvation, some will be worked until they break down.  Eventually they will most likely be sold for slaughter.  All as a result of the original owners losing their very livelihood, leaving them unable to keep them no longer.  Again, thanks to PETA.

So I have to ask PETA--

WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!
WHAT DID YOU THINK WOULD ULTIMATELY HAPPEN TO THE ANIMALS ?!
 DID YOU REALLY THINK THIS THROUGH?!

 Regardless of the thought you put into this,  you got what you wanted...the circus animals--as well as the circus-- will soon be gone.  Their lives-- and all ours--will be infinitely poorer for their going.

THANKS TO YOU, PETA.

*NO, I am not anti-animal rights.  And NO, I am not an animal abuser.  I am a farm owner and a  caretaker of animals, as I have been for the past 25 years.  During that time, I have had the pleasure of knowing and caring for :  14 horses, 9 dogs, 17 cats, 14 chickens, 5 rabbits, 2 goats, and 1 sheep. Our dogs and cats are spayed or neutered. We don't sell our horses, we don't eat our chickens. We take in strays. All our animals have been happy, healthy, well fed, well cared for, and very much loved.  From closely watching Barnum and Bailey Circus over the years, I have concluded that their animals are cared for much the same as my own.

**As far as whips, hooks, chains, or restraints:  Have you PETA people ever raised or handled a young horse (much less a young elephant)?  Try leading one ANYWHERE without the restraint of a halter or lead rope.  Even with a halter and lead, you'll get dragged around a little... feet get stepped on, the occasional toe is broken.  Not because the horse is bad, but because he's young and untrained.  To train him, you need a whip (not to beat him but to move him away from your feet) and a chain under his chin (not to injure him but to apply enough pressure to stop him from dragging you).  A young horse with no discipline or restraint will unintentionally hurt you--possibly even kill you.  So will an elephant.

12 Days Of Christmas / or...Grainne And The 'Possum

                                                               
 








                                                                                                          
On the 1st day of Christmas, my terrier gave to me
a 'possum in my persimmon tree.

On the 2nd day of Christmas, my husband gave to me
two shaky ladders and a 'possum in my persimmon tree.

On the 3rd day of Christmas, my daughter gave to me
3 wooden crutches, two shaky ladders, and a 'possum in my persimmon tree.






















On the 4th day of Christmas, my  neighbor gave to me
4 humane traps, 3 wooden crutches, two shaky ladders, and a 'possum in my persimmon tree

On the 5th day of Christmas, my daughter gave to me
5 finger splints, 4 humane traps, 3 wooden crutches,2 shaky ladders, and a 'possum in my persimmon tree.

On the 6th day of Christmas, my husband gave to me
6 rusty scaffolds, 5 finger splints, 4 humane traps, 3 wooden crutches, 2 shaky ladders,
and a 'possum in my persimmon tree.

On the seventh day of Christmas, my doctor gave to me
7 pain pills and a tetanus shot, 6 rusty scaffolds, 5 finger splints, 4  humane traps, 3 wooden crutches,
2 shaky ladders, and a 'possum in my persimmon tree.

 


















On the 8th day of Christmas, my daughter gave to me
 8 carabiners, 7 pain pills and a tetanus shot, 6 rusty scaffolds, 5 finger splints, 4 humane traps, 3 wooden crutches, 2 shaky ladders, and a 'possum in my persimmon tree.

On the 9th day of Christmas, my husband gave to me
9 yards of rope, 8 carabiners, 7 pain pills and a tetanus shot, 6 rusty scaffolds, 5 finger splints, 4 humane traps, 3 wooden crutches, 2 shaky ladders, and a 'possum in my persimmon tree.

On the 10th day of Christmas, an EMT gave to me
a 10-mile ride to the ER, 9 yards of rope, 8 carabiners, 7 pain pills and a tetanus shot, 6 rusty scaffolds, 5 finger splints, 4 humane traps, 3 wooden crutches, 2 shaky ladders, and a 'possum in my persimmon tree.

On the 11th day of Christmas, my doctor gave to me
11 more pain pills and 2 casts, a 10-mile ride to the ER, 9 yards of rope, 8 carabiners, 7 pain pills and a tetanus shot, 6 rusty scaffolds, 5 finger splints, 4 humane traps, 3 wooden crutches, 2 shaky ladders, and a 'possum in my persimmon tree.














On the 12th day of Christmas, my daughter gave to me
a 12-gauge shotgun, 11 more pain pills and 2 casts, a 10-mile ride to the ER, 9 yards of rope, 8 carabiners, 7 pain pills and a tetanus shot, 6 rusty scaffolds, 5 finger splints, 4 humane traps, 3 wooden crutches, 2 shaky ladders, and a 'possum in my persimmon tree.

  On Christmas Day I gave the 'possum a very nice funeral**, and my family a big persimmon pie.













**No 'possums were actually injured in the above tale--I shot and missed, and the 'possum died laughing...

Merry Christmas To All!

GRANNY'S RECIPE FOR PERSIMMON PIE

9 inch single pie crust
3 eggs
2 c. persimmon puree
1/2 c. packed brown sugar
1 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. ginger
1/4 tsp. cloves
1 lg. can evaporated milk
1/2 tsp. salt 

 Beat eggs, add puree, sugar, cinnamon, ginger, salt, cloves and milk. Beat to blend thoroughly. Pour into pastry.Bake on lowest rack at 425 degrees for 15 minutes. Reduce temperature to 350 degrees and bake until pie looks set, but jiggles slightly in center...about 45 minutes. Cool to room temperature.   Serve with fresh whipped cream, and enjoy!