Thursday, January 17, 2013

Ahhh! Aroma!

I have one of those little crock pot looking things that sits on my counter. You are supposed to put potpourri in it with a little water and plug it in for a wonderful scent. That is how it is supposed to work. I have not been using it because potpourri is either attractive enough that I want to put it in a container where it can be both seen and smelled or it looses it's quality quickly and must be disposed of after being used in the little pot.

Inspiration! I use small pieces of leftover fruit, like apples, or oranges in my little pot. I have been experimenting but have found I can use apples, orange and lemon zest and rinds, along with a smidge of cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves. Nothing harmful to breathe there. I can use fruit that is past prime eating or leftover from a child who did not finish it (upcycling at it's finest!!). Because the pot is tiny I am only using a little and even the peels will do.

Also on my list are thyme and lavender. I can't wait until summer!

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

Embracing my inner Scarlett O'Hara

Quite recently I have received confirmation that some of my quirkiness may be be in an underlying state elsewhere in my family. While I will protect the identity of those family members who have had (ahem) reason to visit down south, I can not be held responsible for those who figure out the identities of the primaries involved.

While discussing forays into the deep south I was reminded that someone, whom I will call D, seems to sink into a deeply southern accent. Keep in mind that we already live in the south so sinking into the accent means that she may really sound like she belongs as a member of the cast of Gone with the Wind. While we discussed all the great things about visiting the city of Charleston (oh, come on, like you didn't know who I was talking about) I got a little account of walking in the beautiful places, restaurants, and stores. We will definitely have to hear more about that.

Okay, for my own part I had to admit that each time I visit Appomattox Manor that I gradually turn  into Scarlett O'Hara. By the time I am ready to stand on the porch I am practically admonishing my children with a fiddle-de-de and a daintily waving my hanky in front of my face. I would so dearly love to approach in a carriage! 

So for my partners in hilarity I must say "We'll always have Tara."