Sanna's Bag

“I never seem to have what I need when I need it. I’m going to make a belt-bag that’s bigger on the inside than on the outside, and just carry everything with me.”

Saturday, October 10, 2009

The party

The table looked pretty, and the guests were delightful! I made the tea and the coffee too strong, no one tried the pate', the brown bread got small attention, the pumpkin oatmeal cookies met with some approval, and the gingerbread was a rousing success. Note to self. No more pate' for tea parties.

We talked about our early driving experiences Everyone has a learning to drive story. Mom was teaching me to drive one summer when we were living in a double wide trailer up on the Spokane Indian reservation because dad was building a mill there. We had been to the store, and on the way home, when we got off the asphalt and on to the dirt road, I got behind the wheel. Pretty soon, Mom was saying, "Not so fast, Roxie. Not so fast!" "But mom, the people behind me don't like going this slow."
We were being followed, on the narrow twisty road to the mill, by a car full of drunken young men. There was no shoulder, and no good place to pull over. They soon began honking and tailgating, shouting, and making rude gestures. When I finally got to a wide spot in the road, and they passed us, I had decided that I didn't really need to learn to drive. It was three years before I tried again.

What's your early driving story?

I had fun setting the table. Mini pumpkins make for easy decorating. and the kitty creamer and sugar bowl make such a charming arrangement.

Everything is ALWAYS better with a kitty!

In addition to tea and coffee, we drank applejuice out of the good wineglasses. That went over very well!Note to self - it bears repeating. Maybe sparkling cider next time.

My mom's first hunting trip.

My parents were married in May. When September rolled around, Dad planned on going out deer hunting like he did every year - camping out with the guys for a week. Mom declared, "You're not leaving me alone for a week. I'll go with you."

Well, Dad's pals wern't so keen on having a woman in huntin' camp. It meant they couldn't scratch, spit or piss just anywhere or anytime they felt like it. And they'd have to watch their language. And act like grownups. A woman in huntin' camp was just WRONG!

Dad, though, had a plan. He brought Mom along, and told her they were going to put her out on a stand. She would sit and wait for them, and they would drive the deer up to her. When she shot a deer, she was supposed to fire two more shots to let them know, and they would go help her dress it out. Well, the other half of the plan, once they had Mom all set up on a log in the cold and the wind, was that everyone else would go hunt on the other side of the ridge and leave her sitting alone in the weather all day long. She'd get so sick of it that she'd never want to go hunting again.

So The first morning, just before sunrise, Dad got Mom all set up sitting on a log on the top of a ridge in her bright red coat and cap, with her Winchester in hand. Then Dad headed down the hill to go hunt with his buddies. Not five minutes later, though, he heard from behind him, BANG. BANG BANG!

He couldn't believe it. She got a deer! Well, he was pretty impressed by her hunting skills, so he turned around and began climbing back up the ridge to help her. When he got to her stand he found her with her gun in the belly of a cowboy that she had backed up against a tree. The cowboy was talking fast and holding his hands high, saying, "OK, lady. You shot it, it's your deer. Honest to god, I won't argue about it any more. It's your deer. You can have it. Can I just get the saddle off it first?"


  • At 1:06 AM , Blogger Rose Red said...

    Although I am a huge pate fan, I think it doesn't go so well with tea or coffee. Bit of champagne (my preference) or wine perhaps!

    My mum taught me to drive. One of the few times dad took out me out to practice, I embarrassed myself by driving on the wrong side of the highway. Sigh. Lucky there was nothing coming the other way!

  • At 7:01 AM , Blogger Kate said...

    Oh goodness, driving stories. Em has a good one.

    Your mom shot a horse?! That's.... funny and terrible at the same time! Oh my goodness, that poor cowboy. Did she go hunting again?

  • At 7:31 AM , Blogger Heide said...

    It's good to come back to such lively posts. The table looked fabulous. The driving and hunting stories... priceless.

  • At 9:23 AM , Blogger Galad said...

    Gingerbread yum! Thinking I need to make some now you started me thinking about it.

    Love the kitty sugar and creamer on the lovely fallish table.

  • At 5:22 PM , Blogger Rose Lefebvre said...

    So it was your mom who shot the friends horse from the other story!!??

  • At 2:13 PM , Blogger KnitTech said...

    At least Mom could shoot. It was more than the step-monster could do.

  • At 6:54 PM , Blogger Amy Lane said...

    Hmmm... Driving stories...

    I've got a couple.

    I learned to drive during my dad's drinking days (when he had two adolescent girls and a wife in nursing school--any man would need a 12 pack to deal with that.) Anyway, he'd drink a 12 pack, ask me if I wanted to drive and then...

    Well, there was the time he thought he saw my band teacher ahead of us on a winding road, stomped on my foot on the gas pedal and had me try to catch him.

    There was the time he screamed in my ear that I was going to rip the fucking transmission out of my car, and I spent the next three years looking in my rearview mirror every time I shifted.

    And there was my favorite--so much so that Mate and I use it to this day. When sitting at an intersection where the cross-street has the right of way, my dad used to yell "What the hell are you waiting for? A SIGN FROM GOD?" So now, when Mate and I are at a similar intersection we'll see our shot and say, "And God has spoken," before we step on the gas.

  • At 1:44 AM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

    This looks like an absolutely fabulous party. YOu are such a delightful hostess.


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