I’m Getting a Greenhouse!
I have met many new gardening friends since we moved to the country, and I visited some very nice greenhouses. I am thrilled to report that I am getting my own!
After doing quite a bit of research, I decided on the Monticello kit from Riverstone Industries. First we put in the foundation.
Next we put stones inside the foundation, then attached the base and started erecting the walls.
With college students from Sam Houston State University helping us, the work has gone quickly. We’ve got three sides up!
Until next time,
Lisa (aka Veggie Gal)
I recently got to babysit my two grandsons, solo, at dinner and bedtime. For dinner, we went to the 5-year-old’s favorite place: Denny’s. I loved it.
We were put into a half-moon shaped booth, so had plenty of room. Miles ordered his favorite Baseball Pancake. This is a very large pancake with raspberry syrup drizzled on it to resemble the stitching on a baseball. It also comes with bacon and sausage, and he was quick to tell our server he wanted both of them. I ordered an Inside Out Grilled Cheese Sandwich for Spencer and a veggie burger for me.
Our food came and Miles proceeded to eat every bite on his plate. He is an eating machine! Spencer sat in his booster seat and ate a quarter of the sandwich. He grinned and jabbered the entire time. He is a social animal! I finally gave up getting him to eat any more. I moved it to the curve of the table.
He got up to walk to the end of the bench and back, doing his 2-year-old daredevil routine on the end. And an amazing thing happened. Every time he walked by his sandwich, he picked it up and took another big bite. He ended up eating almost the entire thing. No small feat for a little guy!
And it was an epiphany for me. He was hungry. He wanted to eat. He just didn’t want to sit there. Once I stopped trying to make him sit in place, he naturally took care of both needs. While I am crystal clear this won’t work every time, it did work at that one meal and it gave me another getting-a-child-to-eat tool for my toolbelt. I was thrilled.
We had a very nice time. Miles may pick another restaurant next time Spencer and I are along though. He most especially likes to go to Denny’s when his dad takes him—it is a restaurant for big guys.
Lisa, aka Veggie Gal
As November rolled in, so did our first frost. The annuals in the front yard didn’t fare so well. Neither did our tomatoes. They were not yet ripe, so my mother-in-law picked them and put them in brown paper bags—and they are really ripening in the bag! The tomatoes in this photo were all green three days ago. We will soon be celebrating our first Thanksgiving in our new house with a meal shared with love by folks of all eating ideologies. We would like to take this time to thank our readers, our newsletter subscribers and everyone who has visited the Veggie Gal site and given us input. Please keep it coming!
There was probably a vegetarian in Texas before I became one. I just didn’t know that person, nor did any of my friends know him either. I was a true maverick. Almost everyone I knew had something to say about it. A lot of folks were genuinely concerned about my health and gently and not-so-gently suggested I rethink the whole thing. I got my fair share of teasing as well from those who just could not imagine why I would want to do such a thing.
One of the most memorable times was when my friend, who had been widowed the year before, had a “Work Your Butt Off at My House” party. She invited all of her friends and we converged to do things around the yard and the house that had taken a slide over the previous year.
I had never met most of the folks there. One of the guys who came had clearly never met a vegetarian. He was relentless in his teasing. When a group was picking up grass clippings, for instance, he suggested they just put them in the back of my truck. Other folks there started feeling uncomfortable for me, because every time I turned around, there he was, with some other remark or joke.
Until it came time for the potluck dinner. Each of us had brought our specialty, which meant I brought cookies. I had made Reese’s cookies, which have Reese’s peanut butter chips and milk chocolate chips in a regular cookie dough. They are really good cookies.
This gentleman took one bite of a cookie and got an almost reverent look on his face. “Oh my gosh!” he said. “These are cookies like you wished your mama would have made. Who made these?”
I cleared my throat. All eyes turned to me as I said, “I made them. They are vegetarian cookies.”
Everyone fell out. All of our work was almost in vain, as it appeared the house was going to come completely down due to howling laughter. Beet red and beaming from ear to ear, the vegetarian-buster got up, came across the room and shook my hand. He didn’t say another word about my being vegetarian.
I don’t know if there was a lesson to be learned that day, or if it was all in good fun. Or maybe keeping it in good fun was the lesson. Or just maybe the lesson was that we can always find some common ground.
I am a vegetarian because I don't want to kill anything. Beyond that, I typically rescue and find homes for two or three animals a year. This is the story of my beloved Rudy.
As we were driving down the gravel road to our property, a big brown dog ran in front of us and stopped near the edge of the woods. He looked lost and frightened, so I stopped. My husband succinctly said, “No.” Undeterred, I called to the dog, but could not get him to come to the car. He ran off into the woods.
The next day on our way out, my husband wanted to stop to introduce me to our wonderful octogenarian neighbor. Her children were visiting and I asked them if they had seen the brown dog. Willy (the son) said the dog had shown up a week or so before and was eating cat food off their back porch and was probably outside under his trailer. Janice (the daughter) jumped up, got a rope and headed out. I went to go clear out the backseat of my car. My husband followed both of us, muttering denials and vague threats. I assured him the dog would be a “passing through” dog, as we weren’t ready for a dog yet.
Janice looped the rope around the dog’s neck, walked him to my car and I lifted and shoved him into the back seat. My husband’s dialogue became a bit more emphatic. I promised him again that I would pass the dog through to his forever home.
I started driving. After going approximately fifty feet, my husband looked at me and said, “His name is Rudy.” My mouth dropped open. Incredulous, I responded “Wait a minute! You’ve been ragging on me about this dog for the past ten minutes and now you’re naming him?!” Tore hautily replied, “It just occurred to me as you were going by that his name is Rudy. Rudy the Red.”
Well ok then.
We took Rudy home. I got him neutered and treated for whip worms. These two things weren’t much fun for either of us. The biggest problem we had early on, though, was Rudy’s severe separation anxiety. He didn’t just whimper when we left—he howled. We lived on a 20-house street and within three days every neighbor called or stopped to ask, “Hey, Lisa. What’s with the dog?” Rudy’s anxiety increased every time Tore yelled at him to be quiet. I convinced Tore to quit yelling. That helped. Then two things happened that changed everything. First, I let Rudy inside to sleep. He immediately started calming down. Then Tore started taking him jogging. And everywhere else he went where a dog could go. Within days they were inseparable. Tore asked me if I had found a home for Rudy. I said I had. We both started laughing as I said, “Yes, you’re looking at it!”
Rudy has been with us two years now. We recently moved to our place in the country. Rudy loves everything about it. And we love everything about Rudy.
Lisa (a.k.a. "VeggieGal")
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Each month we will bring you breakfast, dinner and special occasion menus starring the foods you are already cooking, and featuring tantalizing new vegetarian dishes to appeal to everyone.