March 29, 2024

Crocs, drone and hot beef sandwiches

Our first Christmas on the farm turned our house into a home. Having lived alone for a few years, I was not much of a one for Christmas decorations. I didn’t put up a tree, I didn’t light up the neighborhood, I didn’t hang stockings for the grandkids. Not that I’m a Grinch. I love Christmas. It’s one of my favorite times of the year. Having had memorable Christmases as a child, I carried that warm feeling into adulthood. Christmas time is a time for peace, joy and toys.

Now, Ginnie is a decorator. Hauling a number of tubs up from the barn for her, I discovered real quick why these particular tubs are red and green. They’re full of Christmas decorations. How ingenious. While I was busy hanging a bifold door on the pantry and a clothes pole above the washer/dryer, i.e., absorbed in honeydos, Ginnie transformed the house into a Heidi-in-the-Alps movie set. She put up the tree, placed Christmas knickknacks all over the place, and had sugar cookies baking in the oven. I must admit, the farm house transformed into a Christmas home quite nicely. The red, white and green is like sprinkles on a sugar cookie.

Having extended families makes for more Christmas gatherings, I discovered, and, must say, enjoyed. We had three different Christmas dinners at the farm, one of which I prepared another turkey with all the trimmings. “All the trimmings” means a truck load of mashed potatoes and gunboat of gravy. My son said it was the way a turkey was supposed to be prepared — music to a dad’s ears.

Ginnie had to work on Christmas day, so I had Christmas dinner all prepared when she arrived home. Having cooked two turkeys this season already, I was poultried out, so splurged and got a boneless ribeye roast. If there’s one thing better’n turkey gravy, it’s roast-beef gravy. Oh, man. Of course, I made a barrel full, which meant, the next day, hot beef sandwiches. Just like when I was a kid and eating at the Maid-Rite in Monroe. Talk about dying and going to heaven.

Santa was real nice to me. I got fleece-lined Crocs (I now have winter and summer Crocs), pj bottoms, and a drone. I put the fleece-lined Crocs and pj bottoms on right away, and got to work on the drone. Remember, I said Christmas is a time for toys. You can tell the age of the boys by the price of the toys. I had wanted a drone so that I can take an aerial photo of the farm. Careening around the house and crashing into walls and furniture isn’t the best way to learn how to fly a drone, but I’m learning. Yes, I will register it with the FAA, as required by new regulations.

For Ginnie, it was books on tape, to help her cope with the commute from Mt. Pleasant to Ottumwa. The audible books help assuage my guilt feelings over her one-hour drive to work. It can get icy and dicey at times, not to mention dreary and deery. Listening to a well-told story can help keep her awake in the wee hours of the morning, and get her home faster to me.

By the way, roast-beef hash is a treat also. You take all the leftovers —the roast beef, potatoes, carrots, vegetables, onions and gravy, fry it all together in butter, and you have a simple, nourishing, hot meal the family will want more of. You can also make hash out of left over turkey, chicken or pork. Ginnie had never heard of such a concoction, but now she’s hooked and can’t decide what’s better, hot-beef sandwiches or roast-beef hash.

You be the judge.Happy New Year!

Have a good story? Call or text Curt Swarm in Mt. Pleasant at 319-217-0526 or email him at curtswarm@yahoo.com