Annual Christmas Letter - 2015

Merry Christmas to all,

It has been a busy year on Amelia Island, in north Florida, USA! 

Here are just a few of the highlights from our past twelve months:

Father sniffed his wallet to see if it smelt of farts.

Uncle Fuzzie still showers. We’re all happy for him when it rains. 

Daughter was asked to alphabetize the books in the public library. She declined, citing it was her turn to wash the cracks in the sidewalk. 

The palmetto bugs squish when you step on them.

Grammy quit choir and volunteered, instead, to sing solos.  It seems handbells, cantatas and all that praying are using up the hour of church each week and the music director can't fit her in until 2024. Now, Mother must decide on which Tuesday of that year she will perform.  Oh, the pressure!  

Son bought a new home in a new neighborhood.  He lost the address though.  If you see an empty house anywhere, let him know.  He is listening for your call.

Uncle Blocktassel heard bananas will keep longer if they do not touch.  He thinks it best they don’t see each other either, so stashes them in separate rooms.  He is suspicious that Cousin Squirtfinger snuck in and ate the banana he had tucked away behind the third volume in The Dandelion and The Nut Pick series. Be warned. Uncle seeks proof.

 

Granddaughter ate too much chocolate and blew chunks clear across her newly decorated white and pink bedroom.  The chocolate stains look like polka dots.  Everyone knows brown and pink, together, are a very chic combination, and Aunt Snuffle says it adds designer tones.   

When Mother set Father's plate of leftovers before him, he said, "This looks like Sunday dinner in the state pen." Mother is grateful for a husband who is always so free with his compliments.    

The trees have no feathers, but the dog’s fur tastes like the sweeper.

The stop sign works best on Thursdays. 

Brother learned to eat cheese.  Grad school has taught him the riches of life.

That’s all we have time for as we are already sanding the grapefruit and plowing the paper towels to prepare for the coming year. 

Love from your favorite Amelia Island family.   X O X O X O

The Crocked Turkey

Our daughter, Barbra, once said, "Mom, why is it that everything you do has a bit of a nightmare attached to it."  Was I offended?  Heck no.  I thought that crack was hysterical.  She clearly appreciates her mother.  

So for the holidays, I am a traditionalist.  Enter the turkey. I heard somewhere that cooking the turkey in the crock pot won't dry it out.   Since, over the years, I've tried the oven, an externally greased brown paper bag, which surprisingly never caught fire, a rotisserie and the clear cooking bags, why not the crock?

Off to the grocery store I sent my husband, Bruce, with my handwritten list. Because, sadly, they are teaching fewer and fewer lessons on cursive, he was, as is always necessary, forced to ask an elderly stranger, who does know cursive, to decode my scribblings. While he got most everything on the list, he forgot the green beans for the casserole. With no beans, we could have none of that kind of casserole, which, in turn, forced me to eat both cans of French Fried onions, not at the same time, of course.  I was smart and hid the second can from Barbra who, like her mother, would have polished off the sucker with the speed of summer lightning, as they say. I've taught her well.

Back to the turkey.  The recipe said to get a six or seven pound bird and that is what Bruce delivered.  I don't know how big our crock is exactly, so I guessed.  I guess a whole lot when I cook. Forget that this appliance is a couple of decades old and the glass lid is long gone.  It still gets hot and a metal spatterware plate works well as a substitute lid.   So there I was, positioning the bird in the pot or trying to.  Then I remembered reading you should put the whole breast side down when roasting so the juices stay in the meat. And then I thought, too, it might be interesting to have a taste test.  To that end, I turned the breast on it side, covered it with carrots, apples, onions, onion soup mix and a bit of water.  My goal was to determine if the submerged portion was juicer.

But first I had to cover the pot.  I tried.  The blue metal plate would not rest on the crock.  The crock was too full.  What should I do?  Weight.  I need weight, I thought.  And so you have the next photo.  After stacking a red metal frying pan, heavy glass lid and metal bunt pan on top, the blue plate fit snugly.  It was off to bed for me.

We awoke to delightful turkey smells, the result pictured below. 

 In dramatic fashion, note the careful placement of the carrots around the turkey slices.

Oh how tender was the meat, all the meat. Remember I had turned the breast on its side, half in the juice, half out?  Well, so much liquid cooked out of the onions and apples, the turkey was completely covered, so that experiment will have to be repeated.   I was, however, disappointed that there was not as much sliced turkey from the breast as I had expected.   As I picked the turkey,  I turned it over and found that there was another entire half of breast! Remember, I may have mentioned in an earlier blog how when I cut up a whole chicken, we play a game Bruce likes to call Guess the Piece. I never did well in my poultry anatomy class, as you might imagine.

"Where's the trash can?"  Somebody yelled.  "It's on the washer." (We'll save the explanation of the deeper meaning of this paragraph for another blog.  It's a stand alone story...)
 

This MUST Happen

What better time to alert you to the effort being made by a two tours of duty Vietnam veteran, Steve Holota.  Our local American Legion Post 54 in Fernandina Beach on Amelia Island, Florida is heavily involved. Click on the link below to see what this is all about.

http://www.firstcoastnews.com/videos/news/local/2014/07/01/11929285/ 

HAPPY JULY 4TH! 

 

MAY GOD CONTINUE TO BLESS US ALL!

 

Fernandina's flags over the war monument at the foot of Centre Street by the docks

 

 

Thank you to First Coast News of Jacksonville, FL for their video clip.

 

 

St. Patty or St. Paddy?

Happy Saint Patrick's Day

to ya from Amelia Island's Goodbye Lie series characters  Michael Dunnigan, Miss Ella, Breelan, Carolena, Pat, Marie and Aunt Noreen!  Oh,  and me, too, Jane Marie.  

 

I also want to make certain we all say the abbreviated version of this annual Irish greeting correctly.  It's Happy St. Paddy's Day NOT Happy St. Patty's day, since Patty is short for Patricia!  After all, Saint Patrick was a fella! 

 

 

And just in time for the holiday, see the photo below. I was looking over our courtyard garden and found this sweet little shamrock plant growing between cement and metal!

 

 

Cleaning Test

It's that time again.  Company is coming for Thanksgiving so, you guessed it.  I'm cleaning the house, top to bottom.  My husband says, "Why bother?  They'll just mess it up the moment they walk in the door."  While he's right--They drop off purses, coats, extra shoes, dolls, coloring stuff, games, suitcases, dog food, dog leashes, beach chairs, coolers, etc.  Any surface I've cleaned is pretty much covered up.  Still, the idea that those surfaces are germ, grit and gravel free, to the best of my ability, is a point of pride for me.

So while I was running the sweeper, a flash from the past entered my mind.  I don't remember where or when I heard it, but here it is.  A less than kind mother-in-law was playing got-cha with her daughter-in-law.  Her ultimate test of a good housekeeper was to run a gloved hand on the underside of the toilet tank to check for dust, dirt--whatever might collect there and be less than desirable.  As I think back, I can honestly confess, I don't recall ever actually cleaning the underside of the toilet tank.  Around the tank, beside the tank, yes.  But under?  Nope.  Go ahead, call me a slob. I guess that means I'm not as great a housekeeper as I should be. Guess I never will be...

By the way, this mother-in-law, could be named Aunt Noreen, the mean-spirited yet still beloved character in my historical series, The Goodbye Lie.  Her evil characteristics are timeless.  Once a meanie, most often forever a meanie, huh?  

Sweetest Day Cometh

Sweetest Day is fast approaching.  This year it is on Saturday,  October 19th, always the third Saturday in the tenth month.
  

Celebrate Sweetest Day

By Jane Marie

 

The Roaring 20s were not all rolled stockings, bobbed hair, rouged knees and Charleston kicks. There was also kindness.  Herbert Birch Kingston, a candy salesman from Cleveland, Ohio, took time to share his wares with orphans, shut-ins and unfortunate souls, thereby, beginning Sweetest Day.

At first, it was celebrated primarily in the northern states, along the Great Lakes, due, in part, to the participation of Theda Bara, a silent film actress of that era.   It is said she passed out candy to those attending her movies.  Today, the custom of Sweetest Day is spreading as people move and take the tradition with them.  If your friend, relative or lover has never heard of this delightful holiday, enlighten them.  Give a candy bar, homemade cookies or other goody, though the remembrance doesn't have to be high in calories.  (Although who can resist chocolate.)  Here are some alternatives:

• Give lipstick flavored kisses to your love.
• Watch a romantic comedy.
• Make a list of your sweetie's favorite sweeties, including foods, drinks, candy, movies, books, CDs, activities.  Take a weekend and try to eat/do/participate in as many as you can.
• Play cards or a game.  The winner gets a cupcake!   Play poker with M&M's®.
• Give a romance novel from one friend to another, married or single.   She will love it.  He may hide away and read it with a flashlight, but he just might learn a thing or two about romance!
• Give a new nightie or boxer shorts, potted plant or flowers, 8"x10" glossy, whatever conveys the appropriate affection.
• Give a gift certificate for a manicure, pedicure, spa treatment or makeover.
• Give a gift certificate for his, her, their favorite hobby supplies.
• Go to the movies or theater, preferably choosing light-hearted entertainment, nothing heavy.   Remember, the purpose of Sweetest Day is to lift the spirits by showing love and caring.   No depression allowed!
• Go on a picnic or prepare a meal together.
• Get a new bell or handlebar streamers for your bikes, and ride through the neighborhood showing them off and wishing everyone a Happy Sweetest Day!
• For fun, eat your meal or special dessert in the living room on the floor or a card table or in the bedroom.
• Put clean sheets on the bed and spritz with scented linen spray or perfume.
• Hand write a love letter or note of friendship.
• Make a homemade card and snail mail it in time for the holiday or deliver it in person, if possible.
• Give a Secret Pebble™.   Because they are hand painted, no two are ever alike.   The secret in the pebble is whatever you share with the recipient.
• Offer to watch the kids so parents can spend some alone time.
• Help the children draw their hand prints.   Cut them out.  Staple a hand on each end of a 3 foot by 8 inch length of paper.   Have the kids write, "Here's a hug for you!" and draw on the paper hands.  They can give these to someone special.
• Gather special photos, home movies, and/or favorite songs and spend happy hours remembering - with a special dessert during intermission - wonderful memories.  Perfect for couples and families.

Whatever you decide to do for those who mean so much to you, let it begin a tradition. Telling someone you love him or her is not just for Valentine's Day or even Sweetest Day.   Tell them every day, every chance you get!

(Reprinted from our website, www.GraciousJaneMarie.com, at http://www.greenlightwrite.com/sweetestday.html.)

Year of Living Graciously- December

December - Don't deny yourself holiday treats. Just don't eat the entire tray.

A Wishbone Thank You

We received this email from a reader:

I just wanted to say thank you for the article on the history of the wishbone. In my family breaking the wishbone after the holidays has been a tradition carried on by my grandmother as well as my mother, sadly both are gone now. I fully intend to carry on the tradition, however I have a broader understanding of what the whole ceremony is about now. I found it to be fascinating how something so simple can have such a history behind it.


Thank you so much for the information and satisfying my curiosity.

May you have a happy holiday season!

With gratitude, Dale

***

I'm glad you enjoyed the article, Dale.  For those who missed it, I've reprinted it here.  The original is on our website at http://www.greenlightwrite.com/wishbone.htm

 Wishing on a Wishbone

by Jane Marie

Our Thanksgiving dinner, perhaps like yours, ends with a special ceremony. Around Stately Martha Manor, our patriarch, Bruce, will ceremonially place the wishbone, the "pulley bone" as his grandmother called it, on the lighted shelf above the sink. There it remains until Easter when it's bone dry. Then we dust it off and use it for its main purpose - not as a support for a turkey's head, but to bring good luck to the person who comes away with the largest piece of bone in a little tug of war for two. For anyone unfamiliar with this tradition, each person takes hold of one end of the turkey's double-pronged clavicle. They pull until it breaks. The winner gets a wish.


There are several tricks that might help you win the contest.

• Place your thumb higher up on your half of the wishbone and give a quick snap. Sometimes this works. Sometimes it doesn't.

•Try using just your first finger alone, or your first finger and thumb to exert a little extra pressure.


All this competition began at least 2,400 years ago with the Etruscans who lived on the Italian peninsula. The Etruscans believed fowl were fortune tellers because the hen announced she would be laying an egg with a squawk and the rooster told of the coming of a new day with his early morning crowing. A circle was drawn in the dirt and divided into twenty wedges that represented the twenty letters in the Etruscan alphabet. A piece of grain would be placed in each wedge. A hen would then be allowed to peck at the grain. As she ate, a scribe would list the letters in order and those letters would be interpreted by the high priests to answer questions.

When one of these chickens was killed, its collarbone was considered sacred and left under the hot sun to dry. Anyone was permitted to stroke an unbroken bone and make a wish, thus, the name wishbone. The Romans took many of the Etruscan customs as their own and since everyone wanted good fortune, they fought over the bones, breaking them.

It is said that the phrases "I need a lucky break" or "I never get a break" come from being the loser in this tug of chicken bone contest.

The English heard of this superstition from the Romans and called their wishbones merry thoughts after the merry or happy wishes that most people desired. When the Pilgrims arrived at Plymouth Rock in the New World, they brought along the custom of breaking the wishbone. When they discovered the northeastern woods of North America were filled with turkeys, they changed their custom from the chicken bone to the turkey bone.

Every time you have the privilege of breaking the wishbone or witnessing someone else doing it, just remember that's how they did it way back when. Wayyyyyyy back.