traveling up and down the blind highway

By the time of this writing, the prediction results are not in. This event has occurred since in 1887 in Punxsutawney Pennsylvania.. The celebration combined the Indian folklore tradition with the older Christian celebration of Candlemas Day. The day marks 40 days after Christmas. It was to commemorate the presentation of the baby Jesus at the Temple and Mary’s purification. New candles were brought to be blessed. It also marks the turning point of winter.
The number 40 is a biblical number symbolizing transition. The 40 days that Noah endured the flood in the ark, The Israelites wandering in the desert before entering the promised land or Jesus fasting in prayer in the wilderness. Christians will enter into Lent, a 40 day period of fasting, prayer and giving of time, and treasure.
So as we watch the news to see if Phil sees his shadow and returns to his burrow. Take time to make some homemade tater Tots. They are simple to make and taste better than the frozen ones. The recipe is below.
three finely chopped or grated potatoes
a 1/tbsp. of flour
Salt and pepper to taste.
oil for cooking
1 grate the potatoes in a bowl
2 squeeze the extra moisture from the potatoes with a cloth and set aside

3. Add a heaping Tbsp of flour the potatoes.
   4.Mix and form into balls and place on an oiled pan.
4. Cook in the oven for 25 minutes at325 degrees stirring 1 to 2 times.
   Remove and serve with condiments.
   Enjoy.

***. Poem
Turning the Corner
Days of winter, cold and snow.
North west winds across us blow.
Weary of the dark and white.
Hope for early spring in sight.
carolaspot@aol.com
copyright 2/2/2026

Though we have made and distributed peanut brittle for many years, I never knew the origins of the confection. The story I heard was The first peanut brittle recipe was first published in 1893 in Good Housekeeping Magazine. Though George Smith, a candy maker from Illinois is often credited with making the first recipe, he was said to be experimenting with recipes for caramels. There is another story that a Southern housewife from Alabama accidentally made brittle when she used baking soda instead of cream of tartar, while making taffy. The soda created a bubbly light crisp texture. A third story involved Civil War soldiers cooking candy with peanuts and molasses. The candy became popular in the 1920’s when it was mass produced by the Herman Goelitz Confectionery Company , now known as the Jelly Belly candy company. reaching national popularity in the 1950’s.
Other varieties include cashew, walnut , pumpkin seed and sesame seed. There are chocolate dipped and spicy candy for all tastes.
Below is the basic peanut recipe that we have used for years. When making the candy a thermometer is used to know when to add the raw nuts and the baking soda mixture.
Peanut Brittle Recipe

1 1/2 tbs of baking soda
1 tsp water
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 1/2 cups sugar
1 cup water
1 cup light corn syrup
3 tbsp butter
1 pound raw peanuts

Butter two cookie sheets, put aside.
combine sugar, syrup and water in a large heavy pot.
Put baking soda in a small bowl,
add vanilla extract and a tsp of water.
Cook the water, syrup and sugar until the candy thermometer reads 240 degrees.
Add the raw peanuts and butter continue cooking until the candy reaches 300 degrees.
Add the vanilla, baking soda and water mixture be very careful the
candy will froth, Beat well ,remove from burner.
pour half of the candy on each sheet. allow to cool.
When hard, gently remove the candy with a spatula.
Break into pieces and store in a container.
Have fun making candy on this National Peanut Brittle Day.
carolaspot@aol.com copyright 1/26, 2026.

Though a bill was introduced in the House and Senate in 1968 to make Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. birthday a holiday, it was not considered an official national holiday until 1983. During the time between, many local cities changed a major road to be renamed for Dr. King. In my capital city of Lansing the main street Logan was renamed for the civil rights leader. This was the first time that a private citizen was given a national holiday. The words day of service were added to promote community.
In past years, I have worked food banks, collected empty bottles and cans to donate the deposit.
My women’s church group have worked in groups to knit and sew rectangles to make blankets for the homeless and those in need. Two projects I have worked with are Project warm up America group collects knitted and crochet rectangles to sew together for the homeless.The Linus Project knits or crochets blankets for needy children.
Serving the community is a year long activity. But you can start a project now and pay tribute to a man that stood for non-violent solutions to bring people together.
Now I give of my treasure, time and talent to give back to others. What do you do to support your community?
***. poem
Dr.King preached a way of non-violence.
Even in the face of hatred.
Each of us can play a part.
On this day of service.

Give a smile to a stranger.
Open a door for another.
Gather papers to recycle.
Remembering, this our home
to share.

carolaspot@aol.com copyrighted 1/19/26.

.

January leaves little to look forward to. Snow, cold and winds create a palette of whites and grays without the relief of colorful Christmas lights. But for an old Girl Scout, this is the season for ordering traditional Girl Scout Cookies.
I recall waiting for the start date for taking orders for shortbread, thin mints and peanut butter sandwich cookies, favorite friends. Each year, a new cookie is introduced. Lemonade, friendship chocolate dipped and fruited jewels are introduced and discarded.
I had a vivid memory of one year the starting date fell on a day with two feet of snow. With no school and my Mother!s attempts to entertain failing, she suggested I take the cookie brochure to the neighbors for orders. Suited for the weather, with a clipboard in my hand, I ventured out. I found most of my neighbors snowbound as well. As I pushed my way through the frozen tundra, I was greeted by bored housewives and their children looking for entertainment. Even cars were not on the roads in my neighborhood. I was the only person wading through two feet of snow to ring front doorbells. Several people commented on my dedication. My sale total was high because of the lack of competition.
Each box of cookies earns a small portion for the troop and the scout counsel. That day, I sold over 80 boxes of the treats.
Times have changed. Cookies can be ordered and received in several days, compared to the month to fill the orders. Many troops order a large amount of all the cookie types and man cookie booths in local grocery stores or malls. The whole troop split the profits the to pay for camping and other trips.
When I was a GS Cookie Mom, John and I would be given boxes of cookies ordered by the troop. We divided the orders out into individual scout orders. There were one or two girls that were late bringing a check or cash to pay for their order. Eventually the payments were straighten out.
Today, there are drive throughs where you stop, give your order and take home your cookies at the same time. Gone is the month or more of anticipation.
My favorites? Thin Mints and Shortbread cookies top my list.
Recently, cookie orders can be taken online and delivered to your door. They can arrive in as little as 4 days.
Whether you get your cookies from an individual Scout from a troop sale or online, you will find this sweet will support a hundred year old tradition.
***. poem
Cookies
First cookies were homemade .
In 1934, They sold nationally.
Memories of scout cookies bring smiles.
From generation to generation, Thin mints and Short bread flavors rule.
I will be on the lookout for a girl scout booth.
carolaspot@aol.com copyrighted 1/12/26

It is Epiphany or the twelve night after Christmas. The creche scene is the first to be wrapped and packed for another year. The figures are six inches in height and hand painted by Aunt Joy for our first Christmas together. Given as a wedding gift from Aunt Joy and Uncle Bob. The small band of Mary, Joseph and baby Jesus have been added to in the last thirty five years. There are two cows to keep the baby warm. The Magi number has swelled to five after one of the men took a header off the mantle. A sow and her piglets have a home in this kosher stable. The sky above boards hold twinkling white rice lights. Angels adorn the night over the birthplace of Jesus. Every year, one or more of the angels fall to the earth their light extinguished. A small woods emerges from the corner to protect deer and squirrels. Among the oddities are a beaded girl made by John’s Mom. A wind up Catholic sister that emits sparks from her mouth as she walks. A large stuffed angel that hangs from a hook under the mantle because of her large size.
Of the several trees, one of bisque was given to john cousin Kennan. A light in the stable’s ceiling mimics the starlight glow. Shepherds herd sheep and goats to visit the Christ child. Many of the flock have lost an ear or horn over the years of small hands handling them . The stable itself was made by John, after the family sheltered in the trees.
The camel with a bell around his neck waits in a corner beyond the stable’s walls.
They all make their way to the birth of Our Savior.
They journey across the mantle to the Holy Family for Epiphany. Then it is dismantled, wrapped in tissue paper and lovingly packed away for another year. The memories of many Christmases are stored in that box. I smile to think that some day these gifts will pass to another for creating a new Christmas tradition.”O come, o come Emmanuel.
***. poem
God is with Us
Opening the box , unwrap the figures.
Light the sky with angels and twinkling lights.
Old friends are paired with new additions.
The mantle is crowded with visitors to the stable.
All surround the manger where the baby sleeps.
Memories of that first night mingle with the present.
Make room for Him.
God is with us.
carolaspot@aol.com copyrighted 1/5/2

As the year draws to a close, I think of the time we are given and how we choose to spend it. We can spend time, waste it, share it, give to another, lose track of it and find time until time is up. There are ways that I can improve my use of time. By making time for others is never a waste of it. As humans, we are given a set time line to complete our lives. We may think we know our purpose and what we wish to accomplish. But God may have different plans. Instead of being angry, I remember that I am the clay not the potter. As Tom Monaghan, the co-owner of Domino’s Pizza, once said, “My purpose is to get to heaven and bring as many others with me along the way.” Seen in that light, accomplishments are not my own but given to me by God and others. I am grateful to all my friends and writers that have encouraged me along the way. As I progress down the path to the narrow gate, may I find it open and hear the words, “Well done, good and faithful servant”.
May we grow as we travel together for another year, God willing.
Blessings in 2026
Carol Farnsworth
***. poem Closure

 
Clouds hide the closure of another year.
Happy and sad,
failures and triumphs,
conflicts at home and abroad,
warming trends,
killing of innocence.
I grow weary of it.
But I still hope in the future.
To be kinder.
Sharing with strangers.
To be at peace with myself,
and nature.
I say farewell to the past.
Look forward to a fresh page.
Start the next chapter.

printed in December’s Spirit Fire Review 2025
carolaspot@aol.com copyright 12/29/255

As I put the last tags on gifts, I remember back to the excitement and mystery of this time of the year. As a youngster, my brothers and I served at midnight Mass as choir members or alter servers. The novelty of staying up well past midnight, walking through the quiet, calm of evening and coming home to have a breakfast at 2 in the morning, created special memories.
For most of my elementary school years, I donned Christmas green robes with a white scapula hanging across the shoulders and hanging down to the waist. The ends of the scapulas were closed in a point forming a small pocket. I would place a hankie inside. The robe had no other place to carry this needed item. We would precess down the center aisle to stand in front of the communion rail to sing carols before the Mass started. After our performance, we precessed up the side stairs to the choir loft where we had a birds eye view of the whole congregation, and Mass. Often, my three older brothers served at the Mass. My Mother would leave a short while before the church service ended to start our breakfast.
One of the dishes was Clam chowder, with small round crackers floating on the surface. Another was a wedge of quiche, made with cheese, mushrooms and bacon. Hot coco was the drink of choice for us children. I believe that my parents hoped that the late hour and a full stomach would keep us sleeping until the sun rose. My excitement woke me up early. I would go to see if Santa had arrived. My mother would allow me to take my Christmas sock back to my room. I could open it and play with any toys until the rest of the family awoke. I recall one year I received a magic baby bottle. It would be filled with a white liquid. When tipped to feed a doll, It would disappear. I fed my whole doll collection while I waited.
Morning found the family gathered in the living room, around the aluminum tree with Christmas records on the counsel. I don’t remember if we opened gifts before or after breakfast. I suspect that when we were young, we were too excited to eat. Later, we had a light breakfast first. My Mother’s coffeecake with individual rolls were topped with white icing and walnuts. The middle roll sported a candied cherry.
With seven family members, there was never enough room under the tree for all the gifts. Larger items could be hidden behind chairs, under the desk or near the fireplace.We opened one gift at a time with others watching. We were expected to pass the gift around for others approval. One year, I received several pairs of panties. Embarrassed, I quickly closed the box mumbling Thank you.
“Carol, show us your gift.” Dad inquired.
He grab the box, opening it to show all what I was hiding. Another year, My Mom got a professionally wrapped gift ,when opened she found a mink stole.
I remember receiving a life size baby doll that could be fed with a bottle. A diaper caught the liquid. The doll was a gift from Uncle Tom and Aunt Kathleen. The doll had luminous dark blue eyes and real eyelashes. Having just had eye surgery and lossing my lashes, I proceeded to pull out all the lashes so she would match me.
After breakfast and clean up, we would drive to Grandma Jenny and Grandpa Clifford’s home for a second Christmas celebration.
Smiling, I place a bow and tag on a small present of a finger puppet for a niece, hoping it will foster a new memory.***. poem
Never Too Old
You’re too old to hang a stockings,
put out cookies and milk for Santa.
Listen for reindeer bells.
I wonder if the magic is gone?
Opening my drawer, I find a long green and white sock.
I Place it hanging on a knob in the hall.
With little expectation, I slept dreamless.
Morning light finds a lumpy hose.
Inside, I find nuts, an orange and a candy cane in my sock,
That old baby bottle from ago.
Christmas magic!
carolaspot@aol.com
copyrighted 12/22/2025

Not all Christmases are joyous. In my life I had a sad holiday become a joy.
In November of 1990, I opened my front door to be given divorce papers served by a stranger. I closed the door and walked down the hall to knock on the spare room used as a shared office.
“Mick, what is this about?”
“Read it!”! Slamming the door in my face.
For the next month, I went to work, cleaned and cooked on automatic. A week before Christmas, Mick informed me that Gary, his older brother was coming to stay the week between Christmas and News Year’s’s. I knew that Gary drank and would become abusive when drunk. He had pushed on his ex-wife’s loose teeth, causing them to fall out. I didn’t want to be near the pair of them.
I called my brother Micheal, for advise.
“Get on a plane and fly here to stay over After Christmas until New Year’s.”
My brother Mike bought the round trip ticket. I packed for a week visit. I said goodbye as I walked out the front door.
I flew to Pittsburgh, then a small 12 passenger commuter to Bradford PA.
The plane circled the runway in a snow storm. The lights on the sides of the strip the only distinguishing marker where to land. Hitting the runway, a cloud of snow, rose, covering the plane.
My brother was waiting in the small terminal. We were the last flight scheduled to land that evening.
Mike grabbed my bag, after giving me a quick hug.
“I hope you’re hungry, Kathy has dinner cooking.”
After weeks of Mick be fed by his mother before I came home, It was a welcome change to be catered to.
My niece and three nephews danced around with excitement. Kathy’s Dad, was also visiting after the death of his wife two months before.
After dinner, Megan showed me her room.
“You can sleep in my bed”. ” I will bunk with my brothers.”
Too tired to unpack, I slipped under the down cover and was fast asleep in moments.
That week we played cards, cooked comfort food like chili and warm corn bread.
The house was on a hill. The back yard sloped downhill with the garage facing the street below. The yard was lighted with several gas lights making it easy to sled into the evening. A dozen saucer sleds were piled near the back door.
After dinner, we dressed in wool and down, to tackled the back hill. The yard sported several runs to try. The most used one was a quick straight run to the garage door. It had been used so much, The path was well worn and icy.
The Adults selected a side path, even working to form and smooth the new path.
We played as hard at the kids. When all were cold and wet, we exchanged our outdoor clothes in the basement and enjoyed a hot mug of chocolate with mini marshmallows melting on the top of the drink.
After the sadness of the month before, I felt renewed, hopeful and ready to tackle my future.
All too soon, the week was over. I left Pittsburgh with joy and hope for the future.
***. Poem
Begin Again
As weary as the old year, I gazed out the window at a cloudy future.
The dirty slush gave way to white cleansing snow.
It felt new.
I hurried with my saucer to race down the run.
Thoughts centered on keeping my seat on the sled.
As children cheered, years slipped away.
I was a child on my first sledding run of the day.
With a frosted nose and squinting eyes, I mastered the hill.
After a full day, I slept dreamless.
carolaspot@aol.com
copyrighted 12,15,25

Growing up the first week of December was devoted to helping my Mom write notes and preparing for Christmas Cards. After dinner dishes were washed and put away, Mom would open a box of Christmas cards, laying out pens, blank sheets of stationary, stamps and return address labels to work on cards. My job was to lick and stick the stamps and labels onto the envelopes. After a brief note was handwritten in a card, I would lick and seal the envelope closed. Self sealing stamps and envelopes were unheard of. Several flavors of adhesive could be tasted on my tongue, ranging from minty to glue. I had to get a drink of water to rid my month from the tastes. While I worked pasting the labels and stamps in place, my Mother would select a card for each family, with care. The Madonna and child for Catholics and a secular Santa or snowman for others. She would think for a minute to compose a note to sum up the year. She never used the same note twice. Each note was written with a careful script.
As a lefty, I was never able to master the calligraphy of Mom’s penmanship. I stayed the licker and sticker.
When a box of cards was completed, I would deposed the mail in the large carrier box located across the street. The box had a large hinged door to deposit groups of letters or small packages. The outside of the box had information for pick up time for that day’s mail. Initially, the mail was picked up twice a day. Later, the mail was retrieved on the carrier’s normal route.
Today, I have a large box at the curb, not like the letter size box on my childhood home. The carrier drives a postal vehicle . The Only time I see the carrier is if there is a package too large for the box.
The mail itself has changed. Cards with envelopes has been replaced by folded sheets of heavy weight paper. Postcards with a photo of a family dressed in Christmas garb are selected instead of ornamental greetings. A Christmas letter has replaced the handwritten Holiday note. Some have opted for a email , forgoing the mail altogether.
I still maintain a Christmas card list for the start of my mailing. I no longer write a note but have opted for a Christmas letter of family news from the past year.
I eagerly open each Christmas message and use my Meta A. I. glasses to have the card read to me and the picture described. Then, I hang each piece of Christmas mail on a length of ribbon as a part of the Christmas decor.
I await your Christmas mail, on this snowy winter day.

***. Poem
Candy cane an acrostic
C crooks
A all stripes
N nest in tree
D dangling
Y yummy treats

C children hurry seeking
A among the needles
N neatly hanging
E each child gathers their share
S sweet delights.
carolaspot@aol.com
copyrighted 12/8/25

After a festive Thanksgiving with brother Craig and his wife Karen, we are ready for the preparation activities for Christmas. On Friday, instead of shopping at the Black Friday sales, we ate some of the leftovers ,froze the rest and worked on the Christmas tree and the Manger scene. John hung the small multicolored lights around the four sides of the sunporch to outline the ceiling. Each ornament was unwrapped, examined for damage then a hook was attatched for the tree. I bought a new spruce that had shorter needles made from a rubbery material to help the hooks stay on the branches. The four foot tree had to be placed on a small table so I could reach the top branches.
Memory after memory was hung from the limbs. The glass green pickle with a red hat, the jeweled butterfly, a gift from John for our first Christmas and the clay greenery holder that Ruth made in kindergarten for a gift, all found a place on the tree.
The mantle with the figures that Aunt Joy painted and fired as a wedding gift were checked for damage the placed on on the fireplace mantle. This year, an eclectic mix of trees and animals were arranged to show many critters parading to see the baby Jesus. The number of animals reflect our outdoor display of two girl dolls feeding the lit deer with large ears of Indian corn. A bird feeder with two red cardinals that twinkle with a red glow graced the feeding tray. Three artificial trees form a backdrop for the outdoor scene. Each tree has garland and strings of beads to catch and reflect the lights.
When I was a child, This when Dad opened the mysterious opening in the hallway ceiling and wrestled the the large cardboard box down the ladder that contained the limbs for the aluminum tree. The limbs were packed in rows from the longest to the short toppers. Both Dad and Mom would place the pole and stand in the front picture window. Starting at the top each limb was inserted into the main stem with a hook end to keep it in place. Mom had a large number of silver and blue ornaments that she used to decorate the tree. Dad would check the large flood light with a rotating wheel of four colored panels. When turned on the panels of red, blue, yellow and green lit up the tree reflecting on the metal. No other lights could be used because the metal may cause a spark.
We were the only family to have such a modern tree. I suspect that my Grandpa Cliff had the tree at the family electric shop and couldn’t sell it. It became a part of our families Christmas decor.
A small manger was set on a side table with miniature figures. Brother Mike made the wooden building to hold the Holy Family. Next to the manger a white church that originally had a small light to highlight the stained glass church windows. The church had a music box that played , “O Come All Ye Faithful.”. I would to wind the church to hear the carol and sing along.
Dad attached an aluminum strip of lights to outline the front doorway. The large window was outlined with multi colored lights. The blue spruce and the front electrical light in the yard was outlined with lights.
A wreath on the door completed the decorating. Later, when the evergreen shrubs grew, they were festooned with multicolored lights as well.
With memories put aside, I will compose the Christmas letter to include in each Christmas card. The letter will include news from the past year with hopes for the new year. Keep that Holiday Spirit alive.
***. Poem
Bells
Bells, bells bells, can you hear the bells?
In the morn, they call to worship.
A fire bell rings at noon.
The tinkling of the wind chimes plays a wind tune.

Bells, bells bells, can you hear the bells?
The ringing of the school bell even on a break.
The back up warning on a car.
Without hearing them, we can not go far. Bells, bells, bells, listen for the bells. backup warning from a car.
Carolaspot@aol.com
copyright 12-1-25