Gosh, it’s been a long time since you heard from me. I kept my blog active because I was going to return someday. I want to share with you that I have opened an Etsy shop with many PEARLS! Lovely vintage treasures for yourself or to give as a gift. Here is the link to my shop. I would appreciate if you shared this with your friends and family. Thank you and thank you for always supporting me. 💗
Lessons in Art
My sketch of this Georgia O’Keefe poppies painting sat on my desks for more than a month. I was intimidated. I didn’t know where to begin. I was afraid of failing. You see, I tried lilacs and failed. My lilac painting looked slightly better than fifth grade art. But I started painting the poppies. I tackled it in four days. I am pleased with the outcome. And, I learned something. Just do it. Tackle, fail, succeed. What matters most is that I am alive and capable and happy. There will be some lilacs in my life, but the poppies will be ever so sweet. And lilacs aren’t that bad. 😉
A Portrait of Nate
This painting nearly killed me mentally. I wish you could see the progression. He started out looking like the Mucinex man but 10,000 tweaks later, I think I got it.
Lake Sunset in Plainfield
1927 Vogue Poster
My Pastel Art
My Leap into Pastels
You know it’s been a long time since I have written a blog post. I guess I stopped at the start of Covid when my anecdotes seemed too inconsequential. But writing made me feel productive. Made me proud of creating something. Made me happy I may have compelled someone to smile.
Well, it happened again! I found another creative outlet. Art with pastels! Who knew? Certainly not me. I’m a certified left-brainer (or so I thought), who has not practiced art since grade school. Luckily, I met a special artist, Mary Telfer, whose passion infected me. Now I’m hooked.
I encourage everyone to take a leap of faith. Step into the uncomfortable. Be vulnerable. Art will invigorate you and it produces a peace in your soul. And it will kinda blow your mind.
Take me, for example. I am a tennis player, pickleballer, cook, water bug, blogger, traveler, and now a beginner artist! If you look at me I look like a couch potato. Ouch! Add comedian. 😆
Pastel art. My new shiny pearl.
Check artist Mary Telfer out at www.marytelfer.com for zoom classes or lessons.
A Porch Goose in a Strawberry Outfit
This story starts in Seattle with a porch goose in a strawberry outfit. Do I have you captivated already? Good – this is worth reading! My brother, Jim Gasparich, and my sister-in-law, Mary Jo Fehrenbacher, moved to Seattle over forty years ago. They have two beautiful children, Sara and Matt. This caring family has journeyed back to Joliet almost every summer to visit both sides of the family. Like Jim and Mary Jo, Matt and Sara have Joliet in their blood. Joliet culture that we take for granted, they have keenly observed and treasured. So, when Sara recently turned 35, her dear husband, Hendrik, gave her a dream gift. This gift would transport her mind back to good ole Joliet – a porch goose in a strawberry outfit. Ha! I never really gave those geese much thought.
Mary Jo texted, with joy, to the family group text that Sara received this gift. Well, that joy was contagious. It put me in a jolly mood that I have not felt in a long time due to the coronavirus scare. You see, I know that my Aunt Anna Mae Thayer, who lives very close to me, has a goose just like Sara’s. Would it not be fun to walk over there and snap a picture of it for the group text? Well, I thought so. I am easily amused. I send out a group text that I am off on a goose chase to find a porch goose and that I am not coming home until I find one! I will walk all day, if I have to – I texted!
So I start on my two block walk to my Aunt’s house. Yeah, it was cheating that I knew she had a goose. The fam did not need to know. I would be a group text hero. A group text hero – with stars in my eyes. A group text hero – with stars in my eyes. (Sorry, I could not resist the Foreigner song pun!)
But I had no idea what I was about to encounter. I walked two houses down. Yes, just TWO houses and I found my first goose! So excited, I snap a picture and send out the news on the group text. What fun! What a surprise! Well the story does not end there.
Did you count them? YES! I took only 4,600 steps and I found TEN porch geese! Most dressed, some naked, but all proudly displayed. Oh, and the goose wearing the football helmet and jersey, that is the Thayer’s!
I knew about the porch goose. I knew about the outfits. What I did not know was just how many porch geese call Joliet their home. But Sara did. Sara knew a porch goose was a Joliet icon. And she wanted one on her porch in Seattle to remind her everyday of the Joliet people that love her so much. Porch goose – Joliet pearl.
Peanut Butter Falcon
For those of you that know me well, you know my pen has been silent. In February, life punched me in the stomach hard. While I was doubled over, life went in for the upper cut. My nephew passed away tragically, and three weeks later, my dad died. I have not been the same, and maybe someday I may be able to write about it. But I just could not write. I felt that someday, something will move me to write again. Finally, that day has come.
“Peanut Butter Falcon” is movie that made me laugh, made me feel good, and I learned something valuable. I do not want to give away one single spoiler, so I will keep this post short. I learned that all people are capable of giving joy. All people should be given the chance to live a normal life. God does not make junk.
Learning a life lesson in a heart warming story feels incredible. I put this film up there with “It’s a Wonderful Life.” The movie is that good. Go see it. Thank me later.
Life after a loved one dies gets better slowly. Reality readjusts and life continues. Your voice returns. I am grateful mine did but I am forever changed.
Think Before You Spit – A DNA Story
I am issuing you a warning. You may not know who you actually are. That is right. Everything you believed about yourself can be wiped out in an instant! This happened to me. It took years in the making, but then a single DNA test rocked my world. So before you spit in that plastic tube and send it off for testing, ask yourself if you are really ready. This is my story.
If you come from a large, vintage, Catholic family where children were welcomed after every wedding anniversary or winter blizzard, you have very few baby pictures. I have exactly three. This lack of visual history can get the mind thinking weird thoughts. Also, in my day, and before Dr. Phil, parents thought it was wise to keep family secrets. More than half of the juicy, secret events that happened in my family went down right under my own nose! I cannot decide if my parents were super sly, or if they never talked out loud, or if I just did not pay attention because I actually played outside. But there were for sure some secrets. This story gets better.
Now listen to this. I am the seventh of eight kids. Common sense tells me that I was pleasantly unplanned. My mom and dad had a herd of six kids and then FIVE years later – I come? Surprise! My parents denied it but my oldest sister confirmed it. She said the family was just about to get a camper – and then I came along. Yes, I am the kid who put the damper on the camper! A heavy burden to carry. My youngest sister is thus planned – she was to be my playmate. Only I was born with suspicious timing.
The next oddity. Out of the eight children, I am the ONLY one with blue eyes and blonde hair. I look at my family and they appear like dark, Croatian, strangers to me. My sisters look like triplets, and I look like I came from the mailman. Granted, that mailman must have been a total hotty – blonde, built, strong, handsome face – but he is still the mailman! He did not care about me. I never once got mail!
And then there is the garbage can theory. Yes, at some point in time, I think I was five, my brothers noticed that I indeed looked different. So the very first time little Micki got in their way – the horror story of my existence was hurled at me. “We found you in the garbage can!” What??? “That’s right! You are the only one with blonde hair and blue eyes! Mom and Dad felt sorry for you!” Poor little Micki cried and cried. Big Micki never really recovered. In the back of my head, I was different.
So to recap, I have very few baby pictures, I was unplanned, I came at an odd time, I look different, and alternative theories of my birth surfaced when I was five. The perfect polar vortex.
So, a week ago, I get a strange text from my cousin. We both independently took the 23andme DNA test several years apart. My cousin tells me that he just got his results and that our DNA concluded that he and I were half siblings. I KNEW IT!!!!! I was not found in a garbage can! I do the victory dance!……..But….Gulp….Who the hell am I????? I temporarily lose my mind!
Long story short, I googled “DNA testing.” First cousins and half siblings are often mistaken based on percentages.
Conclusion. My mom is my mom, my dad is my dad, I ruined getting the family camper, and my awful, wonderful siblings are indeed mine! All is right in my world except for my over-zealous imagination that developed while I was playing outside and while my parents discussed the family secrets. Ha!
Is there a pearl in this story?
Photo by Bharathi Kannan on Unsplash
Who am I?
Can you answer the question, “who am I?” It is so important to know who you are and who you want to be. If you do not know the answer, a life setback can leave you reeling. I know this because it just happened to me. And it happened to me before, and again before that. Knowing “who you are” is a precious pearl. When you drop this pearl and it rolls behind the dresser, look for it immediately, and then hold onto it tightly!
Recently, I decided to end my job as a financial advisor with a company I really liked. Not for lack of trying, I was just not growing fast enough under tough circumstances. Yikes! This stings! Someone will be sure to tell me that failure is OK. Sorry, but that is just doo-doo! Failure totally sucks. It hurts. Most of all, failure makes me question the question. Who am I?
Here is another one. One day I had three babies. I am tending to their needs. I am feeding them, driving them, and helping them look presentable. But most importantly, I am guiding them, encouraging them, teaching them limits, moderation, delayed gratification and so on. I am really important to them and they need me. Then, in a blink of an eye, they grew up. My friends and family tell me that they still need me. Well, that is doo-doo, too! An empty house sucks. It hurts. This life event also makes me question the question. Who am I?
There are many more examples. People will test your boundaries and morals. People will reject your friendship. Relationships may end. You may have to fight a health battle. You will lose a loved one. All of these will suck. You will hurt and the platitudes people tell you will sound like doo-doo. And you will question the question over and over. Who am I?
I am a strong, kind, smart, funny, generous, spiritual woman. I am a great mom, a good wife, a hard worker, a good listener, and a positive spirit. I would even say that I am fierce and fabulous! I am not writing this to get your affirmation. In fact, it is just the opposite. Only I need to know who I am. I am the person who is presenting myself to the world. If I do not believe it, how will you? One thing I know for sure – I am not a failure. Because I know who I am, I know failure is not on the list! This job crisis is only a small setback that my strong and smart self will pull me through.
Knowing the answer to “Who am I?” will keep you on course when life events rock your world. A strong sense of who you are will lead you to life’s next opportunity. It will help you overcome obstacles and help you make good choices. It will get you through tough times and times of illness. It will help you stand up for yourself when your boundaries are tested. And when tempted, it is also good to know “that is NOT me!”
Spend time to have a clear answer to “Who am I?” It is a most precious pearl.
Photo by Andre Mouton on Unsplash
Washcloth!
I cannot believe I even have to say this! A washcloth is a pearl!
When I got married, long ago, I found out my husband does not use a washcloth in the shower. What the hell! He told me that men use only a bar a soap and their hands. Yuck! Why would anyone not want a barrier between their hands and their grime! But, what do I know about men and their shower habits?
When my boys got older and started showering by themselves, I insisted on a loofah. It was a compromise between their hands and a washcloth. A loofah. What a weird name for a weird product. To me, a loofah looks like something useful to scrub the sink and the tub. Plastic on your privates? Did someone really make millions inventing the stupid loofah?
Last semester my son came home from college with a fungus on his back. It was from wrestling on his fraternity’s family room carpet. Gross! When I found out, I was yelling around the house, “Washcloth! This would not have happened if you used a washcloth!” Washcloth! Washcloth! With my strong Chicago accent, I sounded like the AFLAC duck! I must admit, I did have them thinking.
Then, last week, I was watching an episode of “The Neighbors.” It is a TV comedy about a white couple who moved into a black neighborhood. The black neighbor lady offered the white neighbor lady a washcloth to use in her shower. The white neighbor lady said that white women do not use washcloths! The black lady was appalled! I was stunned, confused. My world was rocked.
I clearly do not understand the history of the washcloth. I have no idea who uses them or how they came to be. But there is one thing I know for sure. Whether you are a man or a woman, a boy or a girl, black or white, rich or poor, hairy or bald – a washcloth is good idea. The friction of the terry cloth helps remove the coodies on your body. A hand is inadequate. Your belly-button, behind your ears, and butt crack will thank you!
Common sense and a pearl!
In Time for Christmas Dinner
One skill that I work on constantly is grilling. Almost every meat I make comes off the grill. My mom had a gas grill just outside our back kitchen door and she was my mentor. I find grilling almost a necessity. For example, if an oven is cooking a turkey, how do you handle the side dishes? Grilling frees up your oven! Hosting a large dinner party becomes a breeze. Ha!
I encourage you to try turkey breasts on the grill. Two large turkey breast will feed 16 guests. Rule of thumb is one pound per person. Perhaps try this for Christmas?
Rinse and dry completely the well-thawed turkey breasts and set in DEEP aluminum baking pans. Use two pans per turkey to protect the bottom. Salt and pepper the inside and outside of the turkeys. I stuff the cavities with a carrot, a celery stalk, half an onion, and a garlic bulb cut in half. You can’t ruin the turkey at this point so just shove those veggies in. For each turkey, smear the skin, and under the skin, with one stick of soft butter mixed with fresh chopped sage, rosemary, thyme, and garlic – say a tablespoon of each herb. Pour a quarter inch of chicken stock in the bottom of each pan. Insert a meat thermometer in thickest part of one breast. So far your turkeys will look like this:
Place on the grill and cook on low. You are shooting for 325-350 degrees on the grill. Check every so often that the grill temperature stays within range and the bottoms of the pans have liquid. Baste every 15 minutes. The turkeys takes about an hour and a half or so, but it is mandatory that you watch the thermometer! Take turkeys off the grill at 160 degrees internal temperature and they will cook another five degrees on the counter while resting. Turkey breast will overcook and dry out quickly so your most important task is to watch the thermometer! They will look like this:
Take off grill and rest for a half hour. Empty the juices in each pan into a gravy separator. You will have caught all the juices and the fat rests on top:
Pour the turkey juice in a sauce pan and stop pouring when you get to the fat. Add four cups of chicken broth to the juices and heat and whisk to almost boiling. In a small cup with a lid, add a half cup of cold water and four tablespoons of corn starch. Shake briskly until the water and cornstarch mix without lumps. Wisk the corn starch slurry into the sauce pan. In a few minutes the gravy should thicken to awesome wonderfulness. If too thin, add more slurry, if too thick, add more chicken broth. Salt to taste. It should look like this:
I have learned to cut each breast off the turkey bone in its entirety, and then slice vertically. It will look like this:
Grilling turkey is very easy! I look forward to making it again and I will not be waiting until next Thanksgiving. The turkey was so moist and the leftovers made great sandwiches. You can get really frugal and use the breast bones to make turkey soup! Ha!
Oh! Did I mention that the clean-up is a snap? Just throw away the top pans. My bottom pans were still useful for next time!
Grilling turkey breast is a pearl you must add to your box. You can feed a crowd, have room in your oven for side dishes, and dazzle your guests with moist and fragrant turkey! Good luck and keep me posted!
The Bitch is Back
I cannot lie. I have let myself down. I set a goal to write one blog post a week. It was going great and then it was not. I may have run out of things to say. I may have doubted my ability to write and to engage. I may have just gotten lazy. All of those are correct. But the true core of the problem is Netflix!!!! I discovered Netflix and I have become a junky!
Hi. My name is Micki. I am a Netflix binger.
Just for clarification, I do not watch all day. But at night, when I would normally sit and write, I am watching 2-3 episodes of my “series of the week”! I am so enthralled at the high quality of storytelling. It takes everything I have to control myself to no more than three episode per night. That is too much.
But there is a bright side! My addiction is a good topic for a blog post. I am going to list my favorite series. Most are on Netflix, but some are on Amazon Prime. They are pearls!
- The Crown – super interesting, historic, excellent acting
- The Wire – so enlightening, sobering, symbolism abounds
- House of Cards – the first few seasons will chill you, then it fizzles
- Breaking Bad – if you haven’t seen it yet, you are nerdier than me
- Better Call Saul – prequel to Breaking Bad, the character development is awesome
- Ozark – grabs you in the first episode, teaches a lesson
- Peaky Blinders – guilty pleasure, history we did not learn in school
- Queer Eye – many episodes made me tear up – I love those men
- Grace and Frankie – a look into my future
- Sherlock – BBC drama series was my first binge, so so good
- Downton Abby – had to watch it and so glad I did
- Happy Valley – starting to love BBC series more than anything, female hero
- Californication – guilty pleasure, kinda ashamed I wasted so much time
- Orange is the New Black – scares me straight
- Mindhunter – facinating series on the history of serial killer profiling
- Jane the Virgin – never knew telenovela could be so fun
- Dexter – first four seasons are totally worth watching, weirdly good
- Parenthood – I missed it on TV and loved the short episodes
- Call the Midwife – uplifting histortic series that made me feel good
- The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel – 1950’s New York female comedian, love the fashion
- Six Feet Under – the whole funeral home thing fascinated me – I’m getting cremated
- Billions – inside look into the hedgefund life and the power of revenge
- Suits – call me a sucker for good looking men in suits, storyline very interesting
- The Tudors – eh, this is when it dawned on me that I may have a problem
- The Keepers – made me so sad and angry that I had to keep watching
- The Great British Baking Show – my current binge, I am a sucker for competitions
I cannot believe I have watched all these over the last year or so. I am kinda sad, weirdly proud, and aware I have to make a change. When writing got difficult, I escaped to the television. But when I look at my year in review, I am disappointed in myself and the choices I have made.
Netflix is a pearl you should use with care because it can get out of control. I am going to re-establish my once-a-week blog goal and watch television sparingly – perhaps one episode a day. That being said, any Netflix recommendations?
A Pearl for the Holidays
This is a pearl that I have consciously made my fundamental core belief. Many great thinkers and philosophers that have written about it. This pearl is even deeply embedded in the major world religions. I am by no means writing about something new, but I am so grateful I have wrapped my arms tightly around this. This pearl is GRATITUDE.
Gratitude has lifted me out of darkness many times. When I meditate on my blessings and the goodness of life, I am affirmed that my loving God, and the tremendous people in my life, have given me so many treasures. Gratitude forces me to look outward instead of dwelling on my inward turmoil. The awareness that I have so many wonderful gifts and people in my life helps to squash my fears.
Gratitude teaches me to give and then to give more. Almost every time I have been generous to someone, I have been repaid exponentially. Giving brings me tremendous peace. I often ponder how I can give even more. I pray that God uses me to help others. Gratitude and giving go hand in hand.
I believe the secret to profound happiness is gratitude and giving. I do my gratitude meditation before bed. Prayers, followed by gratitude contemplation, help me to sleep more peacefully and with less worry. I awake feeling happy and supported and ready to look for my chances to give.
I am not sure my gratitude pearl will enlighten any of my readers. When you are in a state of gratitude, you attract the same type of happy, giving people in your life. I can honestly say that I have wonderful and generous family and friends. But, sometimes I can get lax and my prayers and meditation get chopped. May this be a gentle reminder to keep a state of gratitude and giving! Happy Holidays!