Relentless

My friends know that I'm obsessed with Dean Koontz. I eagerly wait twice a year for his new novels since I have read all of the currently published books. Don't misunderstand me. I'm not the sort of raving fan found in Stephen King's Misery. I would never harm Mr. Koontz, and this blog should in no way lead you to believe I would keep him tied up in my basement. Or any basement.
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I know you're wondering what all of this has to do with the Hollow. It simply comes from a love of books and a simpler time when they occupied so much more of our lives. This was back when there were only three channels available on our television. My parents did not have the time or desire to read novels for pleasure. So, I have to wonder how the shelves in the den of our home became filled with so many books. As a child I would gaze up at them and just know wonderful things must be contained in such beautiful covers. I don't remember looking thru books at the pictures. I remember looking thru them and wanting to be able to read. Mom read to me a lot. I know she had to be so very tired of The Little Engine That Could.


I have a very vivid memory of the first book I brought home from our little school library - Casper. I never wanted to give it back.

We would have book fairs at school and I would always look thru them wishing I could buy one. One year I won a contest and received a free book at the fair. I don't remember what I did in class to win, but I do remember the book. It was a little book called The Empty Grave

and wasn't nearly as scary as it sounded. I was about 8 or 9 years old then. The first novel I ever read was The Black Stallion by Walter Farley.

After that, I found a way to buy every Walter Farley book I could find. Then came Barbara Cartland romance novels. A friend gave me The Thornbirds to read around that time. Let's just say I couldn't go back to Barbara after that and moved on to Harlequin Romances. Another friend loaned me The Shining by Stephen King. After that I read every Stephen King novel I could get my hands on. I still do, but he scares me sometimes. Definitely not the kind of books to read when you are alone in the house late at night. And, of course, I love reading Nora Roberts!
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Years ago, my dear friend Sally, was reading Lightening by Dean Koontz. She was so excited every day telling me parts of the book, but not enough to give away the part. When she finally gave it to me, she would ask every day where I was in the book and we'd talk about it. Lightening is such a wonderful book and still one of my favorites. If you've never read a Koontz novel, I recommend Lightening or Life Expectancy to start.


During a difficult time in my life, I wrote to Mr. Koontz. I wanted to tell him about Sally and how much joy his books had brought to us both over the years. I don't remember everything I put in that letter. I do remember telling him that I didn't know what had happened in his life to be able to write such wonderful novels or such strong women characters, but I was glad for the impact it had on my life. An amazing thing happened. Not only did Mr. Koontz personally write back, he sent me one of Trixie's (his beloved dog, inspiration and author in her own right) books. As if I wasn't a big enough fan before! So, you see, I could never keep him in my basement.
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I bought his latest novel, Relentless, the day it was released. I told myself to read it slowly, maybe a chapter a night. I didn't even make it a week before I had to finish it. If you love reading books, you know what I mean. So, as you're looking for something new to read this summer, consider one of his books. Most often, you are assured of a happy ending. It may not be the ending you want, expect or need, but it will be happy. Isn't it that way in life too?

Vintage Tablecloths & Sunday Supper

I love vintage tablecloths. Just looking at them brings back memories of food laden tables and Sunday supper. That supper usually included fried chicken during the plentiful days. In the summer, when fresh vegetables were abundant, the supper was mostly made of 'side dishes' and meat was used more as a flavoring than the center of attention.
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In my great-grandparents home, all the adults would eat supper first. Then the young children would be fed. We were not allowed at the supper table until all the adults were finished eating. I can still remember playing with my cousins and my older brother sneaking us a piece of fried chicken to 'hold us over' to supper-time. Grandma didn't follow this custom and neither did Mom. But, anytime we were in our great-grandparents home, it was the unspoken rule. I've often wondered where that custom originated. I don't have a lot of memories of my great-grandparents. Some of the memories are of them being in the 'sick' bed. Most often though, I remember Mammie in the kitchen making coffee or reading the Bible to me, and DaddyBurke in the front porch swing. It's sad that those days ended long before I made it to the 'big' table. I would have loved to 'listen in' on the conversation and carry those memories with me.
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If you don't like okra, try substituting dill pickle slices in this recipe.
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Fried Okra
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1 pound fresh okra
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 cup corn meal
1 tablespoon paprika
1 teaspoon salt
enough oil to cover bottom of frying pan 1/4 inch deep
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Wash okra and remove stems. Cut into 1/2 inch slices or leave whole, if desired. Combine flour, corn meal, salt and paprika. While okra is still damp from washing dip into flour mixture. Fry in oil -medium high - until brown. Drain on paper towels.

Car Memories

I think you'd have to be living in a cave not to know what has been going on in the auto industry lately. I guess that's why my mind has been wandering in the past and thinking about our old cars. I have the ability to form a sentimental attachment to a rock, so you can imagine how I've felt about some of my cars. My first one was a 1974 Buick Le Sabre. As soon as Daddy changed the oil in it for the first time, the engine blew. He wanted to 'take care' of the car in a manner that would not be looked upon favorably by the insurance company. Mom wouldn't let him and eventually the engine was rebuilt. If I had to stop during the first couple of miles after starting the engine, it would stall. That's not much of a problem in the country when stop signs are sometimes a suggestion, but in the city, it can land you in some hot water. It only had an AM radio, but the air conditioner was so cold, you could hang meat as if you were in a walk-in cooler. One day going down the Interstate, the back seat caught on fire. Did you know hubcaps can be used to carry water from a ditch during such an emergency? Do cars even have hubcaps anymore? I loved that car.

My next car was a Buick Skylark. Daddy gave it to me because it had belonged to my Grandmother and had been in the family. He felt it would be much better than buying something from a stranger not knowing the history of the car. The heater immediately stopped working. On another Interstate trip, the pipe to the muffler broke in half. Some very nice men tied it up for me until I could make it back home. The steering column had to be rebuilt twice. I stopped repairing it after that and got used to it moving when I applied the brakes hard. I tried not to use the brakes often. Of course, the transmission had to be re-built. The headlight switch stripped, so I had wires hanging down from it. I had to re-connect them to turn the lights on at night. One very late night, a hose to the radiator burst. I immediately pulled off the road and began trying to figure out how to open the hood. In my defense, it always was tricky to open. A couple more nice men helped me by filling the radiator with water and directing me to an 'all-night' garage. They even told me what was wrong and if the garage tried to charge me more than $15 to come back and they'd fix it for me. I don't think you can find an 'all-night' garage anymore. Nowadays we're taught to remain in the car and wait for roadside service for safety. It had an AM/FM radio. I miss those old days, but I don't really miss that car.

I had a Chevy Celebrity. It was the first car that I bought in my name and Daddy made me 'haggle' with the dealer on my own. It had a vinyl top that was a pain to keep clean. One day I looked out the front door and saw our bulldog standing on the roof of my car. I like to think the chased a cat up there and it was a one-time accident. I really loved that car, but it had a habit of stalling at stop signs. I never could get anyone to fix it properly so I eventually bought a Pontiac Sunbird. The headlight switch was on the upper left side of the dash. Several nights in a row I'd look out and see my headlights on and wonder how I could have forgotten to turn them off. I finally figured it out one day when I saw our cat climbing thru the open window. He would put his feet on the dash as he climbed thru and turn on the headlights. Car manufacturers should warn you about stuff like that. I learned to keep the windows rolled up, but eventually I had engine trouble with that car too. So, I traded up to a Nissan Maxima.

Now, I absolutely LOVED my Maxima. When I bought it, friends told me that all I had to do was keep the oil changed and the engine/transmission would last forever. I never had any engine or transmission problems with that car. I did replace the front, rear and one side of the car in different accidents. I had so many deer hit the car that I considered getting a hunting license. And they hit me, I did not hit them. Two of them plowed into the side of the car when I was driving down the road. The car saved me from severe injury when I tested the 'crumple zone' in two separate accidents. In my defense, some people hit me so it wasn't always my fault. It had a fancy CD player in the trunk. That came in handy when the automatic antenna broke off and I couldn't pick up any radio stations unless I was in their parking lot. I was usually the only one in the car and only used the driver's side window. The motors on the other three windows went out. Did you know that when a motor on an automatic window goes out, the window won't stay up at all? It was the only car that I knew of the axle breaking for no apparent reason. The final straw was when the passenger side door lock broke. I would have been fine if it had stayed 'unlocked', but it would only stay in the 'locked' position. Anyone that wanted to ride with me had to climb in the back seat. I am not a chauffeur. I cried when I traded that car.

All of that brings me to my current car which I still love even though its closer to 200,000 miles than 100,000 miles. It still looks good for its age though. The CD player no longer works, but the radio does. There's a short in the air conditioning system that I've tried to have fixed multiple times. So, it's like playing Russian Roulette when you turn on the AC or heat. I already dread the day that I'll trade it in for something shiny and new. When that day comes, I just hope I can find a dealership!

Vintage Cookbooks

Growing up, I knew Mom was a great cook. She could make magic with just a few ingredients and stretch a grocery dollar to it's limit. In truth, she started out cooking like most country cooks and made meals without a written recipe by following her Mother's methods. Years later Daddy gave her this cookbook and it was her favorite. Even if Mom hadn't told me how much she loved this cookbook, I could tell from the worn cover and stained pages. I also have memories of sitting at the kitchen table and watching her prepare a meal from its pages.



The inside cover invites you to prepare some beautiful dishes.



I always admired the choice of colors in this cookbook. Not only does it have some wonderful pictures of the prepared dishes, there are pictures of everyday American life. This cookbook was first published in 1956.

In addition to the recipes, the pages are filled with 'methods' that show you step by step instructions for making pie crusts, pastries, dumplings, etc.

The back cover is missing along with a few pages of the index, but the recipes are all there. Of course some of the pages are scribbled with an ink pen when Mom wasn't quick enough to grab it out of my hands. Just holding the cookbook makes me feel closer to her and brings back a flood of memories. Once in a while a book, especially a cookbook, becomes so much more than its contents. It's a bridge to the past filled with love along the way.

Here's one of the vintage recipes from this cookbook.

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Summer Squash with Dill

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Set out a 3-qt heavy saucepan having a tight-fitting cover.

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Wash, trip off ends and cut into thin cross-wise slices

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2 lbs. summer squash

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Choose young, tender squash; it is not usually necessary to pare them. Pare only if the outside seems tough.

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Put squash into the saucepan with

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1/2 cup boiling water

2 teaspoons finely chopped fresh dill or 1/4 teaspoon dill seeds

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/4 teaspoon Accent

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Cover saucepan and cook squash 15 to 20 min., or until just tender. Drain if necessary.

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Mix together in top of double boiler

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1 cup thick sour cream

1 tablespoon lemon juice

2 teaspoons sugar

1/4 teaspoon paprika

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Cook over simmering water, stirring constantly, 3 to 5 min., or until sauce is thoroughly heated. Carefully mix sauce with the squash and serve immediately.

Spring Thoughts

My Mother liked to fish, but my Grandmother LIVED to fish. I think Grandma would have fished every day of the week and every time of year. She went in February when ice had to be broken to get a line in the water and in the Summer when bugs can eat you alive. Always fishing from the bank, she would fish when the water was so high she could sit in a tree. When I was little, my Grandmother and Mother would take me fishing with them. When a truck wasn't available, we'd tie the cane poles to the car door handles and take off for the morning. It was my job to get inside the car and hold the poles in place while Mom tied them with string run thru the door handle. Then Grandma and I would hold on to them for extra support while Mom drove.

There's a field near my house that floods every Spring. Usually it's from heavy rain, but sometimes just because the powers that be are playing with the level of the lake by letting water out of the dam. Once in a while we would fish in that flooded field. The water would come in thru a drain that went straight to the backwater of the lake so fish would be trapped in the field. And they were hungry! It was pretty easy pickings. Often times we would end up at the 'catfish hole' down the river road. In one area of the road, water was on both sides. It was easy to fish straight from the road, but sometimes they'd let water out of the dam while you were there. I don't think we ever really noticed how the water level was gradually rising until it was spilling over the road. There were also times that the water was so high that we could not reach the 'catfish hole'. Those times, we'd turn a bend in the road and discover it was completely under water. We'd have to back up almost to the main road before we could turn around. It's no wonder that I grew up with a healthy fear of rising water!

Have you noticed you don't really have handles on car doors anymore? I haven't thought about attaching cane poles to a car door in a long time or what I would do now that handles are not an option. Several days ago I was at a stop sign waiting for traffic to clear. A car passed by with fishing rods tied thru the window openings. Where there's a will, there's a way - especially if a fisherman (or woman) is involved. Grandma would be proud.

So far we've had a record amount of rain for May and that field flooded again. I lost count of the days we went without sunshine. My rosebush was going to be beautiful this year, but it was pounded by some pretty harsh downpours. Here's a picture of what is left of it - still pretty - and cropped so you don't see the weeds! Here's hoping sunny days are ahead for the fisherman in all of us.

Where am I supposed to be?

Those closest to me know that I had the rug pulled out from under me a couple of months ago. The company I worked for closed without warning and filed for Bankruptcy. Since things were going well at work, it came as a surprise. I, along with some co-workers, went along in denial for a while before the finality sank in to us. The people you work with become friends and family. And, nothing would ever be the same for us no matter how much we all wanted to stay together.

I was left with some time on my hands, but ended up facing one challenge after another in the following weeks. It was all ordinary problems - the kind you face every day. A minor illness that dragged on probably due to stress, money issues, etc. Though they seemed huge, they became minor when a family member faced possible surgery. There's nothing like sitting in a surgeon's office to put everything in perspective.

On a particularly difficult day, two old friends called me out of the blue. They were just thinking of me and wanted to reach out to say hello. None of us have to wonder what power prompted them to call or why I was home to take the calls. I was fortunate to be surrounded by the love of friends. Several friends were there to wait in the hospital for test results over the course of several days. The longest day at the hospital was made easier by a dear friend that spent her birthday waiting with me. She simply said she was glad to be born on that day so that she could eventually be there at the hospital for me. One friend mowed our massive yard and kept a watch on the house. Other friends provided us with some delicious home-made meals. When there is a crisis in the South, we cook!

Thankfully, we were blessed and everything worked out okay. Slowly the day to day problems were again weighing on my mind. I started a new job and began learning a new routine. One day last week, I was late leaving the office and delayed even longer running an errand. I was pretty tired and really irritated at the delays. When I was finally on my way home, I ended up stuck in traffic. The reason behind the traffic tie up was an accident. Looking at the mangled cars, I was thankful that I had been running late so that I didn't end up in the middle of the accident. Further down the road, the bottom let out of the sky and I had to slow down to a crawl again. I really began to wonder if I'd get home before bedtime.

Forgetting about the good fortune of not being in an accident, I was getting bogged down in the stress of driving home in a thunderstorm. Then, a few miles from home, the skies cleared up and the most beautiful rainbow came out. It was so clear and bright that it looked like a painting. As I looked closer, I could see a faint rainbow next to the brilliant first one. A double rainbow! You just can't help but smile at the promise of tomorrow when you see a rainbow. It makes everything seem clear. I was where I was supposed to be at that moment. Wherever I am and whatever is going on around me, I know I'm where I should be at that moment. I also know that if I need help in that moment, it will be there. It may not be what I think I need, but in time, everything will become clear.

Poor Man's Shrimp

I never really thought about growing up poor at the time. Pretty much everyone was in the same situation so it didn't seem different. Since my parents had grown up during the depression and war years, they felt fortunate even during the lean years. We were not concerned about what our neighbor's had, but were more concerned about putting food on the table or getting money for a truck repair. Many nights for supper, Mom would feed me mustard and onion on toast. As a child, I never missed the sandwich filling because Mom made it seem like a treat. As an adult, I know it was because we didn't have any meat on hand.

Now days I think children are exposed to so much thru the Internet, television, movies, etc. that they are more than aware of what might be missing. Even as adults, we all want the 'latest' electronic toy. Do we really need the latest hot item? It seems the more the world changes, the more it stays the same. With daily 'bad' news, I think we're all longing for a simpler time and a little slower pace. Remember playing cards? You know, the kind you shuffle with your hands rather than clicking with a mouse on your computer? How about board games or puzzles? When was the last time you did one thing with no distractions? Maybe reading a book without the television or computer running in the background? Or, enjoying a quiet drive without the radio blaring or the cell phone ringing? Walking without an i-pod so that you actually hear the birds singing? Or maybe just listening to the wind blow.....

All of that brings me to the title of this post, Poor Man's Shrimp. This was a tradition in our house for as long as I can remember. Mom would mix up some home-made cocktail sauce made with equal parts of horseradish and ketchup. Then we'd dip leaves of lettuce in the sauce, close our eyes, and take a big bite. It tasted like shrimp! Maybe it was the crunchy lettuce combined with a little imagination or the power of suggestion. Either way it made for some wonderful memories.