Tidewaterbound

A Pot Roast Sunday

2012-01-22T20:14:00.004-05:00

We woke up this morning to ice, what was wet last night froze. Everything was icy the back steps and all. At least the roads appeared to be dry for Erin to go off to work without me worrying to pieces over an errant stretch of black ice. I know, I know, I'll worry anyway. I'm just programmed that way.

This was my ONE day to sleep in and Don was up at 5:15 -- Gaaa! The tv was on, the light was on, I hurt all over, and I shuffled to turn over without cringing too much disrupting the felines who wanted to cuddle. I wanted them off the bed, you can't move without them wanting to lay all over you. I scattered the bed, hoping they would go out and bother Don.

I managed to doze for another hour before a cat drooled in my face because she was purring so hard. Either the box was full, they had no water, or they could see the bottom of their food bowl. I had to get up. Once a feline wants something, they'll bug the crap out of you until they get it and they know I'm the only one who is going to do it for them.

Made the coffee, got the meds, cleaned the box, filled the water and the food...washed up and shuffled out hoping the news was on so I could blink at it for a while.

There was lots to do today, but no bed linens, they'll have to wait until next week and the weather had better be good no matter what the forecast is telling me right now. It'll change--it better. As it was, the one load of jeans and sweatshirts that went out on Thursday was STILL out there--now still frozen and wet. I'd have to get them in later and spin them, and put them in...the DRYER--along with several other loads.

Erin was up and out to work before I started other chores like pulling out the vacuum and mopping floors. Don's wound finally healed over, we are using bandaids, the giant ones--3" x 4" now but it's healed. His wound, deep and wide, removing not just skin but deep flesh, nerves, and severed several tendons, like a generous ice cream scoop out of his forearm wasn't healing after over a month. The wound care of washing, antibiotic cream, the dressings changed twice daily and all the antibiotics were NOT healing it. Don finally saw his primary doc just after the New Year...a month and a half later, after the ER visit. The doc stepped back from the wound -- it was UGLY and deep, no stitches could close it, not enough skin could cover it.

However, the internist specialist, which is what Don's primary is, not a vascular surgeon like Dr. Bartkovich, who is a really funny man and knows his stuff. Still, Don's primary Doc, Dr. Das frowned hard and wrote a script for hydrogel. It's normally used in infused pads, they come 100 to 200 a packet, at a price we can't afford. Our pharmacist, at Karemore in Salisbury, the man is an angel. He said..no, you can't afford this, like hundreds of $$ and the insurance was balking as it was. It took him a while and some haggling he couldn't overcome but what he did find was hydrogel in a tube--a clear gel. This stuff isn't like antibiotic ointment, it helps regenerate skin cells. We finally got a 3 oz. tube nearly 3 weeks ago.

The results from the FIRST application were nothing short of astounding. With Don's weakened immune system very little works for him, but this stuff does. Within a week, the gaping maw closed to half the size, then another week, more closed, and by the third week, the deepest part began to fill in and cover over. It was like a slow building spackle filling in his wound and covering it over.

When you think about it, that's what it did, regenerating tissue and cells. That is miracle stuff and I should have been snapping pix of it from the beginning. I didn't because it was so gross, so DEEP and wide. We are talkin' like a 1/3 pound burger size out of his arm and it was deep. He is healed, thank heavens! Well, that part of him is healed. I just wish they made a gel to fix all the rest of him.

It was a quiet day. Don dozed mostly after I finished chasing the cats with the vacuum cleaner and mopping the kitchen. It was kind of overdue as I've been a little gimpy lately. I just couldn't stand the ICK anymore.

But what I did have was a treat today -- POT ROAST which I didn't get to until LATE, like usual. How does time get away from me like this?

There are a myriad of ways to make pot roast...growing up, it was the ONE thing I could make at home for the house before Mom and Dad got home in the electric fry pan with the lid, a good sear, flip, add all the goodies of potatoes, onions, carrots, seasonings, and a little water, it would steam up, and you had to watch it...but always perfection.

No, I didn't do that today. I didn't even use my Dutch Oven (my fav) or the crock pot. I could have, but I have a potato craving. Mostly been on rice and pasta lately and if I used the big 'open' roaster, I could load it with potatoes, onions, and carrots and have lots and lots of leftovers. However, this method of cooking takes a LOT of time on slow, low heat along with some variations of temps, additions, and lots of watching.

No searing required--which I actually prefer.

But not today, no brining, no marinades, nothing special -- just good seasonings and to allow the oven to do the work for a LONG time.

Recipe:

Into the roast I slapped the double roasts near the center...salted, peppered, sprinkled with granulated garlic -- a drizzle of both soy and worcestershire sauce. Then I filled the rest of the roaster with about five pounds of chunked potatoes, about 3 pounds of peeled and chopped carrots, and then two chopped onions.

Then came the sprinkling of more salt, pepper, red pepper flakes, lots and lots of marjoram, some thyme, followed with a drizzle of olive oil. The big roaster went in the oven at 385 for an hour, a check, let it go another 20 minutes, then out...fresh rosemary sprigs were arranged over the meat, some bay leaves as well, then back into the oven now at 325 for another hour before turning the potatoes and carrots. Then another hour, flipping the still-not-done meat, stirring again. Then checking by 30 minutes. I added some water, more soy, more marjoram, kept it moving but this was a slow process.

I could and should have seared it, and then put it into the crock but I didn't. Still, it turned out very well, tender, dark, rich...and there was gravy. What's not to argue with that?

It was ready about 30 minutes after Baby came home. Tomorrow, there will be BEANS---I still need more leftovers. I've got two meaty ham bones in the freezer I put into the fridge to begin thawing out and have some 'great northerns' soaking. While not as creamy as navies, they'll do the job. They are aging a bit and I'm using my pantry. We'll see what kind of zip I can give them tomorrow as I'm 'off'--an appointment early, then time with Erin and then home. While she's working HER chores, I'll be working the kitchen.

Tomorrow will be our last day together for what likely will be months ahead. Maybe she'll play in the kitchen with me.

While I know it's Sunday, it doesn't feel like it. I don't know what day it is right now, my routine is shot until maybe next weekend, but I'll figure it out. Somehow tomorrow is going to be very, very busy. We have places to go, things to do, and I just can't wait to get back home.

Home is a creaky old place but it's the place I wanna be always because it's where the love is.

Be where you love, where you are comfy. Sleep well and face tomorrow with all the eagerness you can muster. Monday is nigh!

Bleak, Rainy Saturday with a side of Shepherd's Pie

2012-01-21T18:30:00.002-05:00

I hate working Saturdays, I just do. There, I said it! For all those who routinely work weekends, God Bless you and I'm sorry you do. (I'm sorry I do!) If I had my way, save emergency stuff stores, if you work on the weekend, I say you get triple pay! Working Saturdays breaks up my routine and I never know what day it is until the following weekend. I'm a routine sort of person. Trust me, if you read this blog, you know you can pretty much set your clock by what I do and when I do it. (God, I am so boring--groceries on Thursday night, laundry and cooking on the weekends. That's it.)

My clock is set for the alarm to go off at 5:30 AM Mondays through Friday, but not on the weekends. It's one of those iccky clocks you set and forget, it does the job but don't try to reset it, you need Stephen Hawking to figure it out for you. I set it when I bought it about 10 years go and I'm never touching that damned thing again until it goes belly up. So if I have to get up early on the weekends, which normally I don't sleep very late anyway, I have to rely on my internal alarm. It went bust on me this morning.

It was cold, sleety, snow-spitting overnight only to warm up just enough to rain hard this morning 5:40 AM. I wasn't waking up, but Don knew I had to get up. He shuffled out of his bed and called my name. I blinked, groaned, and then shuffled out, retrieved his daily meds and made the coffee. That's life in the old folks lane.

Thank you God for HOT coffee, good creamer, and a scalding hot shower to wake up and get moving.

It was dark outside and it never seemed to get very light out today. The gloom was omnipresent with rain on and off. I had stops to make on the way home and kicked myself that I had to get gas too. The weather wasn't as cold as what sister Melly up in Wisconsin is dealing with but mid-to-upper 30's, raw and bitter crawling right to your bones that jangle a "Hello" from all old weak spots like ankles were screaming. Was I wearing a winter coat? Was I wearing even a warm sweater under my worn-out old jacket? Um, nope because the temps had skyrocketed from the 30's to 47 degrees when I left for work this morning. At work you either roast or freeze. Light shirt and the jacket, if I got cold, I could put my jacket on. It's a call center, nobody looks at you in the cubicle with the tall walls. You could wear PJ's and nobody would notice.

When I finally arrived home, I discovered that ONE feline is mad at me about something, or she's mad because on of her brethren deigns NOT to cover a drop. I don't know what, but she is. The box is right beside the back door. It's a good thing I looked because she pooped on the floor in front of the box--right in front of the back door entry. No, this wasn't an accident, it was on purpose and I know just exactly WHO did it. If I hadn't looked down, I would have smashed and trailed kitty poop down the hallway. Some else is mad and she knows I am. She will now promptly hide from me for the next three days. She thinks I will forget. She should know better, I NEVER FORGET.

Did I mention I still had laundry on the line from Thursday? Jeans and sweatshirts are out there. I couldn't get them in last night, was too late they were already damp again and it was dark when I got home. I forgot it was going to rain. I should have brought them in and warmed them in the dryer. Call it getting a final rinse. I had gotten all else washed up and dried on Thursday so most of the laundry was caught up. Sigh...and tomorrow isn't looking like a good drying day either.

Coming home from work there was a snoozing hubby, a mess in the kitchen sink, and an overflowing kitchen trashcan. Don always says I'll never wake him up doing normal chores -- yeah, RIGHT! Trash collected and taken outside, dishes washed up, some clutter picked up, and within minutes he was UP. Not awake mind you, but up. When I'm trying to be QUIET, I should like a herd of buffalo or I drop something that bangs really loud. Give me a break folks, I'm clumsy. When I'm stressed or nervous about being quiet, I'm 100% MORE clumsy. I can't help it. Quiet R Not Us.

Then comes dinner. Shopping this week I was able to snare the PRIZE of a sale on pot roast. We haven't had that in a long while, that's tomorrow. Burger was limited, I ended up with 1 1/2 pounds of ground chuck and a 1 pound package of 'meatloaf' mix, ground pork, beef, veal= 2.5 lbs of meat. I usually only buy burger when I can get it in a 3-5 pound pack on a good sale. Sometimes if it's 5 lbs, I'll split it and freeze half for goulash and then maybe burgers, or whatever. Keep in mind, when I'm cooking on the weekends I try to make a LOT for the leftovers. 2.5 lbs for one of my weekend meals isn't a lot of meat especially if I'm sharing out and working leftovers.

I didn't know what I was making today with the burger/meatloaf meat mix until Erin volunteered one of her requests: Shepherd's Pie. She loves it, especially the mashed potato part. And just where was she when I needed my potato peeler today? Sigh...

While I didn't have a lot of meat for the filling, I had plenty of potatoes. What I discovered later, was I had no frozen baby peas! I ALWAYS have frozen baby peas, it's a staple because it's Erin's favorite and I use them in a variety of ways and they are perfect in Shepherd's pie imparting an extra sweetness. Okay, we went with the frozen white corn. (Yes, I prefer frozen veges, they are closest to fresh)

Vicky wanted recipes, I'll list this one out as best as I can while it's still fresh in my mind.
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Shepherd's Pie:

Ingredients:

2.5 ground beef -- chuck is BEST(nearly 1/2 of this was meatloaf mix--beef/pork/veal)
7 lbs. of russets, peeled and chopped -- boiled until tender and drained
1 very large sweet onion, chopped
5-6 carrots, peeled and chopped very fine
1 lb. frozen white corn (use frozen baby peas or a mix of both)
3 cloves of garlic--diced fine (or use 2 tablespoons granulated garlic)
3 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce
1/3 cup ketchup
3 tablespoons of flour
1/2 teaspoon of cumin
2 tablespoons of crushed marjoram
1 tablespoon of crushed thyme
1/2 teaspoon of red pepper flakes
1 tablespoon paprika
1 egg YOLK
1 16 oz. container of sour cream
1 stick of salted butter
1/2 cup of shredded cheddar (optional)

plenty of salt and pepper--all throughout the cooking process

Step #1 -- ready your potatoes, peel and chop, into a large pot, cover with cold water and add plenty of salt. Put it on to boil, boil until tender and then drain well. (More on that later)

Step #2 -- Pull out that big dutch oven or LARGE skillet, cast iron is preferred if you have it. A little olive oil in the bottom to get it working, get it hot, and then brown the meat in lots--add salt and pepper (always salt and pepper the meat--also give a good dose of granulated garlic). Make sure you brown it, don't mush it around too early or you won't give it the flavor it needs. (Maillard reaction and all -- if you don't know what it is, look it up, it's your cooking primer)

Step #3 -- Scoop out the meat after it has browned and set aside. Into that hot dutch oven or skillet, put in the onions, salt and pepper them and let them go for a few minutes before adding in the carrots. Work those down until tender, then add the frozen peas/corn --whatever you have--then the diced garlic. Turn down the heat a bit and keep stirring. Then add the meat back, and then begin adding all the flavors, the ketchup, cumin, marjoram, red pepper flakes, thyme, paprika, Worcestershire sauce, likely more salt and pepper. Toss in some dried parsley if you have it. Then sprinkle the flour over the mass and keep it stirring to cook the flour as well but don't let it burn--for a few minutes. If you have beef stock, use it, but water will do -- about 1 1/2 cups. Just enough to loosen it up but not make too thick or too runny. Taste again, add what you need, more of anything or something else.

Meanwhile, use your stand mixer if you have one (I love my KitchenAid, it's a workhorse), but into the big bowl, put the drained potatoes, 1 stick of butter, the sour cream, lots of salt and pepper, the beaten egg yolk, and whip it smooth. Set aside and put a plate over the top to keep it at the ready.

Step #4 -- Once the meat/vege/gravy mixture is ready--turn off the heat. Have the oven at 375 degrees. Normally I use two big lasagna pans. I didn't have enough for that. So I used a shallow oblong glass casserole pan and a 2 quart glass baking dish. I covered the bottom of both with the mixture and then topped with the whipped potatoes, trying to seal the sides a bit and leaving the top 'rough' so it would brown. One was topped with cheese, the other not. You can or not, both in this house like it differently.

Bake for about 40 minutes until bubbly and browning on top.

It's dinner and you have plenty of leftovers to share out.

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I hope that helps Vicky...

Outside the temps are still falling, now to freezing and my baby is driving home over possible patches of black ice. While she might be grown, there won't be a minute when I'm not thinking about her.

My job as a parent is to teach her to survive on her own -- in a nutshell. But what goes into that? Everything, your heart and soul, from teaching them as tots how to bathe and brush their teeth, how to play nice with others, their manners, how to be watchful, how to learn, how to question, when to question, respect, how to do things on their own when you are itching to do it for them. Motherhood bites sometimes.

The worry will never stop, yet the wonder of the blossom is amazing. She's grown. How the hell did that happen? She's my best help, friend, and we giggle over the 'moving hump' that scared the crap out of Gabby the other night (moving hump was another kitty under the covers) -- When she laughs, a real laugh, with her guard down, she's stunning beautiful and she doesn't even know it.

Eat well, find your small joys. Snuggle beneath cozy covers and sleep well. Tomorrow should be a good day!

Winter-Fresh Bed Linens with a side of Oven Roasted Chicken Orange/Garlic/Rosemary Style

2012-01-15T19:02:00.011-05:00

Today? It's my last day...wake up at 5:30, I turned over just because the alarm wasn't sounding. However, before 7 AM, the coffee was on. I needed at least one BIG cup along with part of another before I could begin stripping beds. My 'window' of opportunity for bed linen drying was going to be tight today. It was 28 degrees outside with the promise of some winds. Everything going out was going to FREEZE, then flap and thaw, and then, if I was really, really lucky, dry in the frigid temps but with the sweetest, most, elusive scent there is -- Winter-Fresh.

Each bed has flannel sheets, albeit mine are nearly see-through at this point, a thin blanket, and then the light 'quilt' that dries nearly immediately. It's the flannels and the light blankets that seem to take forever. Besides, after another foray of baths/showers suddenly I had EIGHT more towels to wash along with yesterday's clothing. There was a total of Seven (7) loads going out...trust me, I don't have line space for all of them. Some have to dry first and trying to get them OUT, back in, beds made, and the last out and BACK in DRY can be a challenge. That and a run into town for more errands.

You would have thought the three days I managed to get off there would have been ONE day I could have NOT left home. Go figure. However, I did make three, count'em 3 stops, and back home within 1 hour and 15 minutes, considering the drive into town and back is 30 minutes. I would have been home sooner but I had to wait in line at the Food Lion...and I STILL managed to forget the stupid freezer bags--Gaaaaaaaaaaa!

Still, while I was gone, Don's bedding was finally dry and I could take that in making up his bed making room for another load, relaying in kind as what dried I could put out more. The last load of towels went out at 2 PM and I was cutting it close because drying in these temps slows down dramatically at that time of day. The towels instantly froze as I hung them out. However, the winds were pretty brisk with lapses, I was able to bring them in just at dark, dry enough, sweet and soft.

For food? Well, ya know 'if it's not on sale' I'm not buying it. Chicken was on sale this week. I managed to snare bone-in breasts and a big pack of thighs. What was I gonna make? I had no clue when I bought them, still didn't have an idea this morning. It was too late to brine them, too late for the buttermilk marinade, and I surely wasn't grilling today.

What I had were two leftover oranges from last week as inspiration, even after 'orange' everything last weekend. At .59 a piece, I wasn't going to waste them. I was going 'oven roasted' for the chicken with a hint of orange. Roasting is one of the best things you can do quickly and kindly to keep your chicken moist and tender since I didn't brine it. (Can you tell I LOVE brining?) And I would have if I had a flavor palate in mind and hadn't been distracted the last two days. Normally I'm much more focused on getting the food right because I can't waste it. It HAS to be edible for days.

Washed, dried, salted and peppered, with the zest of the oranges over them, sprinkled with marjoram, littered with fresh rosemary leaves from the bush outside, and a little granulated garlic, the juice of the oranges and some olive oil...on both sides of the chicken---they went in on trays in a 425 degree oven--one upper level, one lower level. After about 30 minutes, they shifted places. The thighs were getting good color, I put them on the bottom and shifted the breasts to the top. After another 30 minutes they all came out and into the big steel bowl and covered in foil to let them redistribute their juices...and stay juicy/moist.

As for the "mac and cheese" dish, was going an easy route today. Nope, not even a roue...cooked up about 1 1/2 pounds of macaroni, as it drained, whipped up an egg, dijion mustard, paprika, nutmeg, tabasco, marjoram, tiny-tiny-tiny diced sweet onion, salt, and pepper--16 oz. of sour cream, about 1 1/2 cups of milk, stirred it all into the big earthenware casserole dish with about 6 cups of shredded cheddar, about 5 oz. of Parmesan, mixed well. Then topped with more shredded cheddar and Panko, into the oven for 40 minutes at 350 degrees. The other side, steamed, chopped spinach with salt, pepper, butter, and sugar. (I lost my frozen bag of sweet baby peas...)

It was dinner.

We've leftovers for a few days, they can peel off the chicken from the bone to make sandwiches with if they want or just heat and eat.

All turned out well.

It's been a long day but a productive one. I'm just GLAD to be productive after these last few weeks.

Now I need another hour to spend some time trying to finish what I started in November, still a long haul to the finish before the edit. Hang in there with me peoples, I'll get that up for Kindle viewing eventually.

Eat well, sleep well, tomorrow is MONDAY, be ready for it.

Saturday Afternoon Baby Shower

2012-01-14T18:22:00.004-05:00

Normally I would tell you if you mention 'shower' to me, I'm hoping it's the weather. I really am a horrible homebody and I don't go out much. Further, bridal, baby...whatever 'shower' it is, I HATE the games. I do all I can to avoid said games.

However today was different on all fronts. Today was Lindsey's baby shower for little Sophia who could be arriving nearly any time now. Lyn is my Erin's best friend since Tiny Tot days. While I didn't volunteer food, I did take pix and a little video. And while I did take lots of pix, the one set of videos for the "Don't drop the Penny" game keeping in mind lot's of expectant moms, and moms in general, usually have water issues.

The idea is to hold a penny between your knees and walk a certain distance before dropping it into a bucket. This is opposed to the euphemism for "spending a penny." In our case, we used quarters. While not all attending participated, there were several groups of three working as teams. I even got into the action. Our team consisted of Sammi (my neice), and Erin (my daughter). It was comical and I wish I had more footage to share of it.

The two who had the most fun with the game were Robin and Tiffany, and well, Tiffany stole the show completely. Out of all who participated, the OLDER mom's all won. We KNOW that creepy, locked-knee shuffle to make it to the bathroom on time. And some of us can down right HUSTLE to get there. And while there are multiple techniques for this, I found working the feet with zero hip action got me there fastest. I was the speed champion on this likely only because I've had so much practice. Dear heavens, don't make me sneeze!

The shower was held at the church and their kitchen is fabulously large with counter top by the acre, multiple sinks, and more cabinets than you can imagine. I have to tell ya, I salivated over all that room in a kitchen.

We were there early to help out plating up the food and we were the last to leave, helping to load up all the goodies for the baby. I was able to get home in time to get a quick dinner worked up, an over-sized skillet of goulash ... you've seen it before, and the recipe for that is back on October's blog.

Tomorrow will be another busy day, more laundry, more errands, and some other chores -- and chicken that I still have no idea what I'm going to do with yet. Geez, the weekend is half over already! EEEKS!

It's been a good day, fun had by all.

Country Style Pork Ribs Citrus Style with Spinach Mashed Potatoes

2012-01-08T17:44:00.004-05:00

Happy Food Sunday! It's recipe day!

There were things I needed to do that I didn't do. They can wait (did I actually say that?). I slept in until nearly 8 AM. I even got up OUT of bed without having an episode of seizing pain (I did carefully stretch everything before I dared get up). Then proceeded to have the best coffee with hubby watching the news on a glorious Sunday morning. When they tell you simple joys are best, it's true.

While I did have certain plans today, I'll disappoint ya'll by saying I didn't do much. A little laundry (that's a given), bill duty I put off. What I was going to make on New Year's Eve, the country style pork ribs, I pulled out of the freezer to thaw out yesterday. While I should have 'brined' the pork, I simply forgot. So it was going to be a braising day. For all the fussy, pretentious, new age gadgets in the world, there is NOTHING like your big dutch oven as a work horse to get the job done for you. You can have the fanciest pots and pans, but to me, the cast iron dutch oven, not even porcelain/enamel coated work for me. I need my favorite cooking utensil, the #10 old Lodge dutch oven. (Thank you Betsy for trading my #8 for your #10)

I went looking for the apple juice, I had bought 3, count'em THREE, big bottles not two weeks ago, knowing I would use two of them. I used a good part with the kale last week and in the stew too. But I still had a portion of one left and two other big bottles (yes, they were on sale). My plans were to use it on the Country style pork ribs, you know, apples and pork work well together.

I guess it was a good thing that I had bought orange juice, a few oranges, and frozen orange concentrate this week. I rarely have much juice of any kind hanging around, but then, Erin was shopping with me. Juice goes around here.

Without the apple juice it was either orange or beer. I had just used the big container of the frozen orange concentrate yesterday on the lo mein dish. Well, I guess everyone is going to get a double dose of their vitamin C this weekend.

Recipe:

The country style pork ribs, all seven of them, were just about thawed after I put them back in the fridge last night. Heavily salted, peppered, granulated garlic, and cinnamon. (Yes, that's odd, but this works). Into the dutch oven with a little canola oil for a quick sear on all sides and set aside into the big steel bowl as the two sweet onions went into the hot dutch oven along with about five stalks of celery, all chopped up. I had 5 cloves of garlic also diced and waiting to go into the pot. Once the onions and celery were tender, in went the garlic, then the spices, cumin, coriander, more cinnamon, nutmeg, red pepper flakes, and a few bay leaves. The kitchen was very fragrant and then came the deglazing, about a quart of orange juice, the zest of an orange, and the juice of the same. The mass was brought back up to a simmer along with a few good stirs and the ribs were placed into the dutch oven carefully along with all the juices in the bowl. Into a 315 degree oven for just over an hour, then I checked it, increased the temperature to 335 for another hour an a half. The house smelled divine and the ribs were falling apart tender and moist--and delicious.

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I had been in a quandary over what 'side' to make. The pork didn't need to have potatoes in the pot as they would taste funny--orange potatoes are just weird, I've done it, don't try it--they take on a bitter taste. You can get away with apple or lemon even in a stew, but not orange.

I wanted spinach and I wanted potatoes. Previously I couldn't find anything I really liked in online recipes but there was one that was about 'half right' so what I made was a take off of that. Lazy me isn't into peeling potatoes, I chopped a mass of russets and boiled them up until tender as the frozen spinach thawed in the microwave. Don't forget to squeeze all the liquid out of your spinach or you'll end up with a runny mess.
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Recipe:

About 10 medium russets, washed up, then chopped, boiled until tender, drained well. 1 package frozen chopped spinach--thawed and well drained (squeezed). To that lots of salt, pepper, nutmeg, marjoram, granulated garlic, 1 medium sweet onion diced very finely, 1 container of sour cream, 1 stick butter...use masher to incorporate well and put into the greased casserole dish, top with a little shredded cheddar, into the oven for about 30 minutes 350 degrees. That is some good stuff.

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Measurements people? Use your mouth, remember you can always add, not take away. Only in baking do I really measure anything--baking isn't as forgiving as plain 'cooking.'

Then there is the request for the potato salad, my mom's potato salad.

Recipe:

This is for about 10 lbs so adjust accordingly.

This takes 10 lb bag of russets, peeled and chopped. Boiled tender in lots of salt, use 1-2 pots if you need--then drained. Into another pot, 12-16 eggs, salted water, hard boil them...shock with cold water, peel and chop (I use an old fashioned pastry cutter with blades for this job). Into a very large bowl--big enough to accommodate the mass: dice one LARGE onion, red or sweet, 4-6 stalks of celery also finely chopped, about 1/3 of a jar of salad cubes (or about 15 sweet gerkins chopped with juice). Once the onions, celery, salad cubes are in, pour in the drained potatoes, the chopped eggs, and have your dressing ready.

Dressing: 1 large jar of mayo...preference is Hellman's or Duke's--but am often stuck with Kraft because it's on sale--but Food Lion brand is also good (I think Duke's makes theirs). A good dose of plain yellow mustard, perhaps about a quarter cup or more, at least the same for apple cider vinegar, 1/4 cup of sugar (?), plenty of salt, pepper, granulated garlic--just a little, and marjoram (if you don't have it, get it--it's your best 'go to' herb for everything from meats to veges--give it a good toss.

Blend the dressing well, pour over the steaming mass and slowly incorporate. Then put the potato salad into your very large container and into the fridge to chill. This is good still warm--I love it best still warm.

Hope that helps Mandy.

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Even though I didn't do a lot today, I know I'm still healing up. I HATE getting older and becoming slower to heal up. Don't mind me, while I am grousing a bit, I'm not whining. I'm totally grateful for the light at the end of the tunnel. The workout with the heavy dutch oven in and out of the oven was a reminder that I'm not totally 100% yet. The food was stellar--better than I hoped, and there are two sets of leftovers and all will be well through the week.

Just knowing tomorrow is a full moon makes me want to hide. What I will do is cling to today's memories. It was a nice day, not rushed, no pressures, even with things I need to do that I didn't. I will manage to get them done.

I hope these are recipes that you can use, try, or expound on.

Enjoy!

Surprising Warmth in January and Lo Mein Favorites

2012-01-07T17:46:00.002-05:00

I made it through this week! Woohoo! (Okay, the full moon comes Monday, 01/09/2012 -- that'll be a fun day because all the freaks who spent last week calling me up in advance, will be calling me BACK again -- Thursday, I had the same nut call me three times. I have NO IDEA how I was lucky enough to get her all three times, I could have just cried. I'm expecting the motherload on Monday. At least by then I'm pretty sure I'll be almost back to normal by then--my normal: evil old bat.

I think Bette Davis summed it up when she said "Getting old isn't for sissies." Um, I'm not 80 or 70 or even 60, but she had that dead to rights. You go ahead and hurt yourself when you are in your teens or twenties, even your thirties, and you'll bitch and moan, but you'll heal up a LOT faster than if you were 40, 50, 60...you get my drift. I think there is a reason people past 55 slow WAY down. They have to be terrified that the next 'uh-oh' might take two months or a year or NEVER to recover from.

What the hell am I talking about? Last Friday, no, not yesterday, a week ago Friday morning, I was running late, tripping over yowling cats after wound care duty, box duty, food, water, slapping on makeup, drying my hair, and spraying a lacquer on it -- rushing out of the house as I leaned over to scoop up my purse and lunch box on the way out the door while at top speed, something seized up. Oh, come on, you know it, lower back, just below the waist. It's like the director in a major Broadway play, when he screams, everything STOPS! Something was about to go "SNAP" in a BAD way, something vital. The leading lady was suddenly indisposed but the chorus showed and wowed the crowd. The Rockettes were out in force taking the stage. What nasty thing that almost happened to my back was SAVED by the lower back muscles (the chorus) that pulled a seizure, up, nice and tight. They pulled up so tight I wondered for the last week if I even had a buttock crack any longer, so tightly did they all pull together. Oh, and the chorus moved in--all of them, bitchy, cranky, the diva, the whiner, the cryer, and even Miss Congeniality. I didn't know if I was coming or going, but going was immediately limited.

I managed to get out the door without bursting into tears, managed to get up into the truck and get going. It was about 30 degrees outside but I'd broken a hard sweat soaking my heat, and hoping not to hit any bumps along the way. It took awhile to get OUT of the truck and into work. That was just the beginning.

It was a LONG week. Once seated it was hard to get up, even when I had to get up, I had to talk myself into it--out loud. Walking helped, well, gimping helped. Sleeping was a nightmare, I had to PLAN to get out of bed, like 10-15 minutes in advance with strategic handholds. I hate pills of all kinds but I had discovered the Walmart brand for Excedrin did help a few times--not much, but some. I still hate pills.

Bless his heart, poor Don tried to make me laugh as the days went by, teasing me that my butt was gobbling up my underwear. Honestly, I don't know how it would even make it there--my butt cheeks couldn't be any tighter. I was having a major reminder of what Don has to deal with daily, if only in a small way. I cannot stay down for long. But I spent NYE pretty much in a chair, and after NYD I was scared to get into bed because I was afraid I wouldn't get OUT of it.

Just keep in mind I was thinking that 1-2-3 days, all would be better. Over the decades it always did. Not this time. And even though I still went to work there wasn't a moment, still isn't when I'm not feeling it, but finally today I could get out of bed without planning for it. Even so, I was scared, would it clamp down again? Further, I was pretty mad that it totally screwed my 3-day holiday weekend. I had PLANS, things to do!

Slowly we go, step by step, a breath, a careful step, one following another. Whew! The worst is finally over.

I've done this same thing about ten times or so in the last 30 years. The recovery just takes longer now. I hate that, I have things I have to do. Remember, the cat box doesn't wait, neither do the dishes, the food, or the laundry...other things might. Don relearned this week just HOW MUCH I talk to myself. Most of it was of the "let go, let go, I can do this" variety. With all that chatter the cats thought I was talking to them and decided to herd me in hopes I'd give them other goodies. I'm looking at those eager feline faces knowing they are trying to trip me and a fall right now wouldn't bode well for me.

But today was WONDERFUL! I woke up to warm temps, knowing this is my only good drying day, I slowly, repeat, slowly stripped the beds (I have yet to remake them--that's gonna hurt), and started the washer, made the run to the pharmacy in town, back home to put up two quick loads, starting more, and then addressing FOOD! I had promised Erin her favorite, well, not the red beans and rice, but something better, her Lo Mein. (It's my hands down favorite, she IS my baby!)

She left work last night the same time I did, she met me at the grocery store to help me. Lifting and toting was still a difficult proposition. Her choice, Lemon or Orange? She opted for the orange. This would be Orange Chicken garlic/ginger lo mein. She's lucky because they had chicken breast on sale, but I'd checked the flyer for it.

I had to have it ready before 2 PM before she went to work so she could have a bite AND take a dinner portion with her. She won't be off until much later. For the price, 13 portions...$15. You can't beat it, and we'll all be eating it for a few days. Actually, Erin will eat that until it's gone.

Recipe:

Ingredients:

4 pounds boneless chicken breast chunked into bits.
1 large can of frozen orange juice concentrate
soy sauce
powdered ginger
fresh ginger --about 3-4" peeled and grated
granulated garlic (lots)
red pepper flakes
tabasco sauce
sesame seed oil (keep that in the fridge)
canola oil
2 bags of fresh bean sprouts
4 carrots shaved into ribbons
1 large red onion chopped
2 cans of baby corn cobs--drained
2 cans of sliced water chestnuts--drained
fresh mushrooms (if not, go straw mushrooms)
(All canned stuff, don't just drain but rinse well)
Cornstarch
1 lb package 'thin spaghetti' noodles, broken in half, boiled and drained.

Make marinade/sauce --- into a large bowl, put the orange concentrate, soy sauce, ground ginger, granulated garlic, tabasco, red pepper flakes, a little olive oil, and a dribble of the sesame seed oil (that's really strong, be careful with it). Mix well. Add a little water to thin it, it will be very thick, also about 1/4 cup of sugar, orange can be bitter. Then pour 1/3 to half of it into the chucked chicken to marinade for about an hour, not much longer, reserve the rest to be the sauce.

Put the water for the noodles on to boil early, it'll take a while to come up to temperature while you are dicing the onions and making your carrot ribbons. Don't forget to heavily salt the water before you put the pasta in. Meanwhile, drain the chicken bits, squeeze out the extra juice of the marinade, coat in cornstarch and shake off the excess. (Hint -- use a large bowl with the corn starch and then use a oversized wire strainer to shake off the excess corn starch from the chicken).

Into the big wok, the canola oil in the bottom was hot and I worked the chicken in lots setting it aside into another bowl. The chicken came out and I couldn't keep Don away from it. Once all the chicken was done, in went the onion, then the grated fresh ginger, and then the carrot ribbons and mushrooms, finally the baby corn cobs and the water chestnuts. A little more oil was added during the process but not much. Once all that was warmed up, into the wok went the fresh bean sprouts, both bags. By then, the thin spaghetti noodles were done and drained, just waiting. Then I added in about 1/2 of the reserved marinade, kept it stirring, a few more drops of the sesame seed oil and the tabasco. Then added back all the chicken and kept stirring.

I had to take a 1/3 of this out for Don, he doesn't like lo mein--noodles. He wants his over rice, so out that went into a 2 quart casserole dish and set aside. Then into the wok went the noodles and the last of the marinade/sauce until all thoroughly heated through. This makes a LOT. No one flavor note overrode the other, but the orange and ginger were primary followed by the garlic, sesame, and soy, with a hint of heat.

When I cook, I cook a LOT. The reason is that I make for leftovers. Please, do NOT even suggest at 7:30 on a Monday night after I've been cussed for hours on end that I'm up for cooking anything. I just want to crawl into bed and hide. I have to have leftovers.

By Wednesday, I'll likely make something, or Thursday...you might end up with eggs, beanie-weenies (our style), french fries--a special, or a frozen pizza. So, during the weekends, I have to bring it, to make it good enough for people to eat it for a few days and keep it changed up.

My hours are odd, coming home by 7:30 or later, I'm not interested nor have the energy to make anything interesting that requires more than about 10 minutes of my time.

Currently I'm thawing out the country style pork ribs I bought the other week that I couldn't work with last week because I couldn't stand up long enough to address them. If what turns out isn't good, well, they have the leftovers that I know both will eat. Whatever I make tomorrow, I'll have to eat. Normally I try to have something both will eat for change up. We'll see. I think it might turn out well anyway.

Meanwhile, I've sat long enough, time to stretch it out, time to make up beds. I will try really hard not to whine--really. This is gonna hurt.

Greeting 2012 Without Reservations

2012-01-01T17:17:00.004-05:00

Happy New Year to all.

I know we celebrate annually, that New Year's Eve is a party time, something I rarely participate in unless it's online because I stay HOME. Yesterday I not only stayed home but down, more on that later. New Year's always seemed more daunting to me that something to look forward to. I always looked to the New Year as something unknown and forbidding, not something I would celebrate or welcome.

Christmas came, we made it, everyone was happy, and I ran non-stop for three days. All I wanted was sleep. I couldn't wait for this weekend, just for a nice old snooze-in until like 7:30. Last week, it was a short week at work, earlier hours. Trying to manage the wound care and the feline needs besides rushing in and out of the shower to leave by 7 AM, I was running a little behind on Friday. I tossed in my leftover dish of the ham/potato/cheese into my lunchbox and leaned over to grab my purse on the run and something went 'ERRK!' I jerked back upright, deep twinge in the lower back, and all the muscles down there said -- "STOOOOOOOOOOP!" Okay, I froze, so did all the muscles, all in place--even my airways froze. I LEANED to pick up my purse, hollered to Don I was leaving and shuffled out the door like I had a hot poker up my butt. I was scared to breathe even normally, small chuffs of breath keeping the feet moving. Then, I had to CLIMB UP into the truck.

I grabbed the handle in the doorway (trucks have them), set my left foot on the runner and made the move in one motion. It took another few seconds to start breathing again. It was 35 degrees outside and I was already sweating bullets. Once at work, I remained excruciatingly upright, leaning forward, but up from my chair every 30 minutes which caused an uproar...call center work, you don't get up.

The rest of the day went that way, once home, I tried to keep moving, hanging out laundry, having Erin actually make dinner with me. Call it a 5-ingredient fix dinner, Claire Robinson would be proud -- but I call it Mom's chipped beef and gravy -- it's gotta be Esskay dried beef (the other brand gags me), chop the bags of dried beef, 2 of them, butter in the skillet, add the beef, coat and warm--add equal amount of flour to the butter...let that work down, add pepper, dump 1 oversized can of cream of mushroom soup, stir well to incorporate...add milk (likely about 2 cups or more), keep stirring. Serve over toast (I was gonna make grandmom's biscuits but I didn't dare--I was hurting too much).

Meanwhile, I filled the clothesline in the dark with 5 loads, wanting to get a headstart on Saturday. Once I went to bed, well, everything seized up. It took me a good five minutes (I could have said the 15-20 minutes it felt like) but mostly I thought about it before I actually tried to get up. Lots of little shifts and turns, all of them hurt, then I was upright, leaning on the wall, just so glad it was holding me up.

The day didn't progress very well after that. I DID make coffee, manage to get on my knees to address the wound care and bring in the laundry after a blistering hot shower. That 'cure' lasted about 30 minutes and like an old witch's claws, those muscles kept right on tightening as hard as they could. It was called don't move, don't even breathe deeply or "HELLO, good to get your attention again. We're hear for a nice visit, why don't you sit DOWN and don't move for a while."

Um, I sat down, leaned back in the chair and hoped I never had to get back up because even trying to skooch my butt forward to the edge of the chair was gonna hurt. I had plans for dinner ya know. Nope, all those plans fell apart. What I DID do was the 'meatball' dish Erin had requested months back. It's more of a party dish than a dinner. Two bags of frozen (cheap) meatballs, 1 jar store brand grape jelly, 2 bottles of store brand chili sauce, into the crock pot--go for it. I managed to get up a few times to give it stir. Don ate them hours later with a roll.

Yep, that was NYE's dinner. Erin was taking Lyn out for her BD due to be home by 9 PM, but ended up not home until 11:30 due to circumstances while I sat my fat butt in my chair trying to read as Don had gone off to bed. Me wanted to go to bed but a goodly portion was scared that if I went to bed I wouldn't be able to get back out of it. I couldn't sleep until Erin came home.

The only GOOD thing about this little back spasm episode is the reminder that Don, my hubby, lives with much worse pain than this on a daily basis. Want to know something? I couldn't do it, can't do it, I just can't.

Baby came home, I was glad to see her, she gobbled up her treat and I took a slow fall into bed. It was NYE? Really?

Today was New Year's Day. I wasn't going to spend another day in the chair, I just couldn't. It did take me about ten minutes from waking up to shift enough to get out of the bed. I shuffled out and made coffee, Don got up, the news sucked, we found an old episode of Law and Order to watch. It was still hours before Erin had to get up and go to work. I had to have hot water and I wasn't going back to the chair.

I don't know how much it cost, but I know I ran I LOT of hot water this morning to loosen it all up. It took 3Xs as long to get dressed. Tying my own shoes was murder, that was AFTER getting the socks on. After that, there was no sitting back. Erin was off to work, I was walking through the house, picking up trash, doing small 'pick up' chores after promising both Erin and Don I wasn't doing anything today. Okay, I lied.

I did three loads of laundry and hung them out, hauled all the trash I could find out to the curb, and started food. What I HAD planned yesterday, Saturday, for NYE was searing the country pork ribs and using the new pressure cooker with herbs, spices, and apple juice before transferring them to the dutch oven to finish...um, that didn't happen. I bought a LOT of apple juice on sale. I put the country pork ribs int he freezer this morning. I'll fix them later.

What I had also bought were the last to BIG trays of beef stew meat. When did stew meat get so $$. About $5 for $14. That's still too high. I had splurged and bought 2 1-pound bags of perfectly cleaned kale, likely my fav green ever. I'd need the big crock and the big dutch oven today. I just wasn't brave enough or mobile enough to try my new toy again (pressure cooker).

Into the skillet went 1/3 of the jowl bacon (cheap, try it) with one large onion in a little butter and olive oil, salt, pepper -- as that came up to nearly done, the WILTING began as the crock was already heating up. The big skillet is 5 quarts, they went in lots, and then into the crock all the rest from the skillet, onions and bacon. Then about a tablespoon of chicken base (it is totally precious to have--never by bullion or anything again, buy the 'base'), more salt...then APPLE JUICE, some to start, more to add later, and later--along with a little Tabasco, not much.

Into the big steel bowl went all the stew meat, salted, peppered, and lathered with granulated garlic, and tossed well to coat and sit to bring to room temperature.

Meanwhile I peeled the carrots, just over a pound. Then one LARGE red onion, next to last I have, and one small 'sweet' mayan, they had a bag on sale. Then the remainder of the celery I had, the inner portions, the BEST of the celery (I can still see Mom crunching up the most inner pieces and the leaves--I am no different--best part of the celery, the actual heart). I seared the stew meat in a little butter and olive oil in lots and set them aside in another bowl.

The bottom of the cast iron dutch oven was beginning to get a little crusty by then, still not time to deglaze. All the onions and celery and carrots went in then, they have a high water content and they worked down to nearly translucent as I reduced the heat and kept stirring adding a little more kosher salt. Once they were ready, I added the stew meat back, added a can of warm beer from the porch, scrapped the bottom, it needed more, another beer, then apple juice (hey, I have it), then 3 bay leaves, a handful (really) of marjoram--most fav herb ever maybe save the 'fresh from the bush rosemary' which also was added after being clipped, rinsed, stripped and diced. To this, was added 2 tablespoons of ketchup--it needed tomato, and I wasn't going to open a whole can of sauce or paste for it. It just doesn't need that much.

It was time to let the meat work for about 30 minutes.

Then all the potatoes, lots of those piled on top after a good stir, more apple juice to bring up the liquid levels. The lid cracked just a bit to let it work all down. The one thing with a good stew, it makes its own gravy, you don't make it. The potatoes, if you have enough potatoes, they will half dissolve and the starch will thicken it on its own. The flavor was rich and deep, multi-layered, a true stew. All the parts in harmony, not too salty or sweet, a good balance that fills the belly.

The kale was sweet with the undertone of the heat, unnoticeable by Don who watches me like a hawk with the Tabasco.

They scraped their big bowls, came back for more--always a good sign. Had I told my BIL I had used warm beer to help braise down the beef stew meat, and give him some to take to my MIL, he would have freaked. They don't drink--at all.

So, today, I've kept moving, moving, moving. I still feel the hurt, the seizure/spasm but nothing like yesterday. I know tomorrow will still be hard to get out of bed, yet I'm moving now. The worst is over.

It's New Year's Day. Last I paid real attention it was mid-December, Nano-Wrimo was just over and I was trying to make Christmas happen.

Normally I just HATE New Years, I always have from childhood. I tried to think back over why. There were those long car trips during the winter months from St. Michaels to Salisbury, over an hour drive in the glooming into the dark, the heat in the backseat of the station wagon didn't work well after all the squabbling from we girls finally exhausted. Curled up in our coats, without pillows and uncomfortable, it was a long ride home.

Barren and empty is what I remember. Cold, alien, mostly frightening before anything outside of the windows went totally into the dark. Daddy was always driving, his window cracked to let out the cigarette smoke. He and mom didn't talk much after they thought we girls were sleeping the backseat. There would just be the glare of passing headlights, and the glow of the dashboard. The longer it went, the more I just wanted to be home, warm and safe, in familiar surroundings, to dive into my bed and on the coldest nights have Mom cover me up with the extra scratchy wool blankets she pulled down from the hall closet that smelled funny.

For most adults an hour and a half drive is nothing, especially one you've driven many times. For children, it's a LONG time, sometimes it's a scary time even if you can reach out to touch one of your sisters. Either of those sister who would have laughed at me and called me a 'baby' like they often did. On those cold winter nights driving home from Grandmom's house after a weekend visit, I was scared. I couldn't get home fast enough.

Home? Home was everything, all the scents and creaks, the bathtub drain that didn't want to, Daddy grousing about the toilet paper, the baseboards thumping and banging, and Daddy down in the basement coaxing the boiler to work to keep us warm. Mom in the kitchen working HER magic. For us, we girls, what Mom did, we thought every mom did. I never realized until MUCH, much later that what my mother did was REAL magic.

Don't get me wrong, it wasn't just the FOOD magic she did, it was how she pulled people into her sphere, Daddy had that ability too. It was all so effortless on their parts how they did it. People, outside people, gravitated to them. Mom and Dad opened their doors and their hearts to others.

For decades I thought they were dumb, stupid, allowing others to take advantage of them. Mom and Dad were neither dumb nor stupid, they were kind, gracious, and willing to help all even with their limited means. They knew and upheld a code of graciousness and honor from ages of old. For them, maintaining that code was important, something they instilled into their children as well.

The world has moved on, well beyond Marion and Jim Caulk. Still, their legacy lives on within each of their children with the hope and knowledge that 'we' will instill the same code into our own children. Somehow through the years, I know I have, every time I look at Erin. I feel sure that Melly and Bets have done the same.

There are people who had more, people who had less, our family growing up had 'just enough' to get by. We were lucky. As the years pass, I discover just how lucky we actually were. My goal in life is to ensure that my Erin has 'just enough' of the right things, no more, no less.

It's New Year's Day. They say what you do today that you do all year long. Um, I did a little laundry (a given, if I'm breathing, I doing laundry), a little cooking, and I hauled the trash. Hey, at least I didn't cut my hair today (tomorrow for certain--Mary hold your breath, a lot has to come off--if I screw it up bad, I'm at your doorstep).

It's actually warmish outside for the date. For the last two years we've suffered extremely cold temps, multiple blizzards, something we don't get for decades -- but the cold is coming in two days.

What about 2012? Do I subscribe to the fabled 'end of times' come December? After worrying and fretting over Y2K, nope, not a bit. After all these years, I still keep a small storehouse of beans and rice, some canned goods, it's just the hoarder in me.

After Y2K, I had to unload rice, beans, flour, sugar, salt, other staples before they would go bad. We even bought a small generator, our first charge card. Yep, I was scared right up until 2 days prior to January 2000.

What do I hope/expect in 2012? The last five years have been 'difficult.' That's the polite verbiage I grew up with. Honestly, these last five years have been hard, with each year getting more difficult.

About 15 years ago I listened to a man talk about his father's death, how it went on and on, the illness for 8 years, what his wife had to do--things HE couldn't do, the slow dissolve of a man's life. I shuddered, swore I could never face anything like that. Never say you can't do something, because you will.

This year, things will change, lots of things. I'm looking for forward focus, a surge of confidence in myself. Something is gonna change in 2012 for my family. It will happen.

Meanwhile, today Melly posted Mitch's latest work, that he in his male ego...aw, no. This was after suggestions of a showing. He's incredibly talented, doesn't want to run the risk of anything. Men!

You judge!

Melly, please give Mitch a hug, tell him that I think his works are terrific!

A Busy but Cherished Christmas 2011

2011-12-26T19:37:00.004-05:00

And I thought I was ready for Christmas...I'm never really ready for Christmas. Time escapes me for some reason and I knew it this time last week, I was just arriving home from an ugly Monday with a headache. There was lots that needed doing but I just camped out in my chair by quarter til 8 PM waiting for baby to get home from work. She'd be hungry then too. It was all I could do to stay up, fix her some eggs and fall into bed. I was kinda like that on Tuesday and Wednesday nights too, knowing I had to somehow get some gumption going.

The gifts were purchased yet not wrapped. The house was a disaster, I was behind on the laundry, there were cookies that needed to be baked, but not yet...you see where I'm going with this? Suddenly it was Thursday night, grocery night. I had already figured out what I was having for Christmas Eve for my limited budget...fried chicken and potato salad -- definitely NOT what what we used to serve up the family (that used to be a 10 pound pork loin, halved, marinated in mild Pace salsa and garlic powder overnight, and then about a gallon and a half of apple juice in the smoker drip pan. Okay, so we had potato salad, it's tradition. I could have managed the $25 at Sam's for the pork loin but I can't work the smoker while I clean the house, make the potato salad and get everything else ready. Sigh...Don can't do it any more and that would be about 3 hours out of my day, nope and I suck at working that smoker too.

The entire week I felt like I was chasing sleep with a nagging headache. I HATE that. I don't get headaches often and I just couldn't seem to shake it. By Thursday, it didn't matter. I was grocery store bound, what I found was NO CHICKEN! NO CELERY, I felt like I was lucky to get a big 18 pack of eggs. But I DID snag the last 1/2 gallon of buttermilk they had. It wouldn't matter, you can 'turn' regular milk into buttermilk with white vinegar if you HAVE to...this time I didn't want to have to.

Usually whatever I make on Christmas Eve, we normally eat on the next three days...the pork loin and that stuff NEVER lingers--ever, because we also share out. It truly is a gift, an errant idea that is so good it belies the ingredients---tomatoes and apple juice and garlic? It shouldn't go together, but with a little hickory smoke, it's the best thing you'll ever eat--really. Folks were disappointed again this year. However, this year I was making DIFFERENT chicken, an experiment, if it turned out badly, they would be stuck with the crackers/cheese and the potato salad, more on that later.

Friday came and I was off EARLY, working 8-5 rather than 10-7. I rushed home and began on the two big batches of cookies we needed. All oatmeal, but two different recipes. I was hoping to find my Mom's in the old cookbook my sister Melly found in an old bookshop..circa 1939, American Woman's Cookbook. Um, it wasn't the one, but 4 dozen cookies later, I had to make another batch, mostly like the Quaker Oats but some of the measurements and ingredients were skewed a bit. They came out fine, both did actually, the older recipe was a bit more of molasses than to my taste. I was looking for a crisp cookie filled with cinnamon and that extra flavor that wasn't just brown sugar or vanilla. Bets says it is HER recipe and not mom's, promised me that recipe two days ago...ahem, I don't see it in my email box yet.

By the time I completed all the cookies and two loads of towels and cleaned up the mess, it was time to WRAP. Did I mention it was LATE? It was 11 PM. I also really, totally, truly SUCK at wrapping. I just KNEW I had a bunch of gift bags from last year I could reuse. Um, they were gone. What I did have were a bunch of boxes that things were shipped in, small, medium, large, some too large. By then my baby was home, she was busy distracting me, so was Don. I just wanted them both to go to bed so I could finish wrapping. Um, I finished up by 2:40 AM Saturday morning, then put the chicken (I had chicken in the FREEZER enough to cover--thank heavens, that was out thawing) into a buttermilk marinate with a ton of spices and some hot sauce--put it into the giant Rubbermaid contain, then hauled out the trash, blew out the candles, turned off the tree and the music and fell into bed. It was after 3 AM by then.

Erin had to be up by 6 AM on Saturday. For the very first time in her entire LIFE, she was up. She was also shaking me awake..."get up Mom! I have to get in the shower. I need breakfast, something good to hold me." She went into the shower and I went right back to sleep. I'm not good on less than three hours sleep, not at this age.

Twenty minutes later, she had me up...I cheated and made cinnamon rolls, it took longer to heat up the oven than to bake them. Meanwhile, I hovered by the coffee pot moving at the speed of a frozen snail, blink rate at nearly zero. She gobbled up the rolls, I put the remainder on a plate in the microwave for Don as I toddled off to my chair with another cup of coffee. I needed to wake up before I did anything else.

By 8 AM, I couldn't put it off, I started on the potato salad. It's a lot of peeling, chopping, boiling...time consuming. It's not hard, it just is messy. From start to finish, and clean up, you are looking at two hours. 8 pounds of potatoes (give or take, likely more), 14 eggs, most of a bunch of celery, one LARGE red onion, half a jar of salad cubes (relish), and the dressing -- mayo, cider vinegar, mustard, sugar, onion powder, salt, pepper, marjoram (if you have it) or another sweet green herb. By the time you are done you are at 10 lbs...sometimes I make 15 lbs. That requires two pots for the potatoes.

Then began the clutter pick up, dusting, vacuuming, mopping...the clutter around here is just ...GAAA! I hate it, it breeds. I know Don doesn't move around much but between Don and Erin they and fill every available space known to man with CLUTTER, junk, whatever. The tablecloth for the dining room table was washed up and reset sans the clutter--temporarily.

Finally I could hit the shower. Just as the hot water was easing my old aches, Don gimped into the bathroom to tell me my buddy Ken was there to pick off some of the mistletoe from the tree--I screamed. He scared about 10 years off my life. I think I scared a few years off Don's life too. Erin never has any compunctions about bolting into the bathroom when I'm there, but Don never does. I knew she wasn't home, so I'm thinking something is wrong. Sigh...

Finally out of the shower, and time to address the chicken. Remember I'm experimenting...and I'm serving this up to my family on Christmas Eve, I had to get this right. People do buttermilk chicken all the time, I just never had before.

So am noting it here before I forget. The marinade is the buttermilk, but with some garlic powder, paprika (never discount the paprika--it's not just for color), salt, pepper, poultry seasoning (not much), chopped onion, parsley, thyme (I didn't have any marjoram then), and some hot sauce. While it's not quite a brine, with buttermilk it sorta, kinda is. I could only give it 12 hours, the chicken was just finally thawed from me pulling it out of the freezer Thursday night after grocery shopping to the fridge and then OUT on Friday night once I got home. It didn't finish thawing until I was done wrapping. If anything else went into the big Rubbermaid container...I don't really remember. I was asleep on my feet. Not even the freezing temps outside woke me up as I hauled out the trash to the curb.

So after my shock in the shower, I literally threw on clothes, combed back wet hair, and went back to the kitchen and drained the chicken and set up for frying. About four years ago I replaced the electric skillet I gave to my sister, the one I got as a wedding present. I take good care of my old appliances, I treasure them. I opted to fry the chicken this way because the cooking surface was bigger than even my largest cast iron skillet and I wasn't going to deep fry because the cost of the peanut oil was beyond my budget. I needed less and an inch of canola oil, which I had.

The chicken was coated in a mixture of flour, salt, pepper, paprika, garlic powder, onion powder, and Food Lion "Italian herbs" which doesn't smell like italian, there's no basil in it...there IS marjoram and rosemary, something else, but it would do. Another shake of poultry seasoning and I called it good. I coated the chicken, set it on a rack to 'set' as you should before you fry it so the coating will stick for at least 10-15 minutes. I had a big pack of 10 thighs and 6 bone-in breasts. It would have to be enough. That BIG skillet worked them all in less than two hours. I was just finishing up the last batch when my sister and her hubby rolled up. I was done...ready for Christmas Eve!

Christmas Eve is our best time with my family. Food, conversation, hugs, kisses, old music, candles, and reminiscing. Talk of old days, smiles, all the while I'm trying to move everyone OUT of the kitchen and even the dining room as both men there know we can't have much weight on either floors right now. I 'creep' in there as it is. It didn't seem to matter, the floors held that night even as I held my breath.

A good time was had by all. It was an early night, by 9 PM, all were gone and Erin pulled me upstairs to watch a movie with her...she kept waking me up, "Mom! You're snoring!" I don't think I missed much of "Elf" it was a cute movie. By 11 PM, I was back down the stairs and fell into bed.

5:30 was Christmas morning. I didn't wanna get up, but finally rolled out at 6 AM and found my way to the coffee pot. We had places to go, to visit, I had to get Don ready, and I had cornbread to make, to take, to gift for my niece and nephew, that's all they want. I can make that blind but I swear it's the bowl that it is mixed in the makes it work. Each ingredient has to eat the other...it's weird, but it's good 'wet' cornbread, some call it spoonbread.

Our little family did our Christmas morning rituals with the stockings, cinnamon rolls, and the old music playing. There were surprises, for "ME" and they are all in the doghouse, but it was really sweet. Erin went all out with more charms for the braclet--a 'witch' she couldn't pass us, and a rolling poinsettia. Yep, the WITCH is fitting--LOL! Then once the trays of cornbread were in the oven, I was in the shower and we were running. We visited, had brunch with Don's family, came home, more of his family came out, then Erin and I went to Betsy's as Don rested...finally home by 7:30...by 8:15, I was curled up in bed. I was so tired I just wanted to cry. Don't get me wrong, it had been a fabulous Christmas, I was just tuckered right out and I hurt all over.

The alarm went off at 5:30 this morning and Don heard it, he got up, so I had to. Good coffee but it wasn't going to be a day where I could sit. by 6:55 I had to get it rolling. Earlier this week someone said the word "flea" -- Erin has been through 4 sets of sheets and blankets..all there are, then there were Don's and mine, along with all that I didn't catch up of all the clothes, towels, whites, all of it.

It's now just after 9 PM, the dryer is still running and most of it when out on the line. The final load of whites, undies and socks are finishing. My washer screamed "UNCLE" about 7:30 and said...no more! Two quilts were still damp from the line after the wind died, they had to dry too.

With only ONE piece of the buttermilk fried chicken left. Today I knew I had to cook, knew it on Thursday when I shopped. What was left on Christmas Eve was gifted out to my in-laws yesterday with most of what was left of the potato salad. Gauging the price of lunch meat against a small 'butt' ham, the ham was cheaper. Earlier today, I took the ham, mixed up some brown sugar, mustard, and a little maple syrup, coated it, put a little water in the pan, wrapped it tightly in foil and set it to bake for 2 1/2 hours on 325..it came out perfectly. It rested to cook, I reserved and froze the drippings (bean soup later, I already have a frozen ham bone and extras)..the ham was sliced for sandwiches.

I kept running the line with the wind powering everything dry, most of the bedding brought in, beds made up, more towels, blankets, clothing, it was a PERFECT day for drying, winds 15-20 MPH, you have to be careful of the flapping ends, if they snap you in the eye, they can blind you, bruise you, or just give you one hell of a sting--be ready with extra pins!

Then, remember the budget...I was going with red beans and rice. $5 for 2 pounds of Jimmy Dean sausage, $3 for smoked ham hocks. I had the beans...I was short on celery and bell peppers. So by the third load out on the line, I ran to town to pick up what I was missing this morning. I made it back home in 40 minutes--and didn't get stopped by a cop! It's a 12 mile run to town, and then back.

The 'gotcha' gift apparently was me this year. (Remind me to take away the credit card from him again) -- Don and Erin had a little confab and decided I needed ANOTHER toy in the kitchen, something I haven't mastered yet, something I did want to learn -- a pressure cooker. The one I remember, Mom's, a big stove top model with the gauge and pressure release, a bit intimidating, but I've also been scoping out ICA and how they can take beef short ribs (if I get a deal) to make tender within an hour...I was tempted, something I never would buy for myself. There are other methods, ones I would normally use. However, they decided for me. It was time to try it out..the menu? Red beans and rice, my baby's fav dish. But could I make it in a pressure cooker?

Did I mention I have trouble following ALL the directions? I kinda take things by the seat of my pants thinking, 'this looks right' after scanning down the multiple pages of instructions between laundry runs. Two things I missed. #1, with beans, do NOT fill over half the pot. Um...I had pulled out the browned sausage and set that aside already, I didn't want it under pressure, overcooked sausage is NASTY--I was going to add that back in once the beans were done, but I wanted the ham hocks in there. I had to pull out the ham hocks after searing them. In went the onions, peppers, celery, garlic, bay leaves...the red beans, the marjoram, the paprika, the hot sauce, and pepper...the salt and anything else would go back in later. I kinda eyeballed the water, following the directions that you use 'less.' THEN I couldn't get the lid on. I had taken it all apart and washed it up before using it knowing how it all went together. However, this unit has a small glitch, there is a button that has to pop and until it does, you will NOT get that lid to secure.

After ten minutes of attempting to secure the lid, I lost my temper. Erin gets her lightning-fast, frustration temper directly from me, via my mother. When Mom blew it was like Mount Vesuvius blowing, me, I'm old Faithful at Yellowstone...Erin is kinda in-between, at least Mount St. Helens but with regularity.

I knew I needed to walk away. After all these years, I know when I get frustrated, I just need to step back. Poor Don, he was snoozing in his chair, he heard me. Hell, the neighbors should have been able to hear me. He came gimping out to the kitchen, brushed my hands aside, ignoring me to tell him to go away, tapped the 'float' button until it poppped and seated the lid perfectly within about 40 seconds. He turned and gimped back to his chair, continuing to ignore me. I just had to laugh.

It brought back too many memories of times Don had done this for me, as Daddy always did for Mom as well. If it's something with my computer, I'll figure it out, but usually with cooking, I'm much more old school. This machine intimidated me and I let it.

From there, all worked well, the beans were done in about 35 minutes, I released the valve, restarted it to sautee...not simmer, added more water, the salt, a hint of sugar, more hot sauce, the ham hocks back in along with the sausage and just set the lid on for about another 35 minutes and set the rice to go in Mom's steamer. It came out perfectly.

It's now just after 9:30--I folded the LAST of the laundry, the whites, dinner is cleaned up, a portion kept warm for my baby. Back to work tomorrow.

And a 'date' later for the last show of "The Closer." Sleep soon, next weekend all will celebrate the New Year. I'm looking for REST!

Remember, this time LAST year, we were having a blizzard. Please 'weather folk' no more blizzards, no snow here this year. I won't miss it, I PROMISE!

The Dearest Blessing of All

2011-12-10T19:12:00.004-05:00

You know that life gets crazy at times right? It seems the last few years have been both a blur and madness, one drama-trauma after another. Worries, concerns, illness, crises, multiples, and somehow through it all comes the shining strength of a child forged into womanhood through her trials. She is my greatest blessing, the strength to help me soldier on, my comfort, and suddenly my friend. How does that happen?

From that initial stir in the womb you KNOW isn't a gas bubble to her innate sense of WRONG direction (Honey, the EXIT sign isn't at the uppermost part of my ribs...follow gravity please). Then suddenly she was HERE, EARLY! Um, I was so NOT ready. I should have been ready, but I wasn't. Honestly, if you aren't ready at 30, you are never gonna be ready. I think they call it trial by fire and I was terrified.

When my baby, my most precious thing in life during the first winter after she was born got her toe tangled in the nylon/plastic thread of her zip-up Kmart jammies that cut her toe all the way around--I put out the call to my sister, Bets, who drove miles to come on the run to make sure the plastic was out and not still wrapped around her toe. I couldn't tell, it was so deep. Bets was always there for Erin.

Then there was the time she got Roseola, her temps averaging well over 102, the 22 month old never dried off from the oatmeal baths with baby Tylenol and I didn't sleep for three days. Don ran off to work where he would be safer, I was frantic, my focus totally upon my sick child.

Then there was the one time, the ONE time she had the flu when she was about seven. She was so ill for days and days. That was a blur of agony, after that, she wasn't ever really sick beyond a head cold and even those were rare. (Thank you, thank you, thank you Lord)--I can take being sick, I can take Don being sick, but not my Erin, nope, not my Erin at all.

Outside of that, "I have a stomach ache..." I know right away what was wrong with her and in 30 minutes, usually after the plunger was involved to relieve the plumbing, she was much better. She learned to stop swallowing gum after a while.

I remember being so anxious for her to begin to talk. Then I realized with her first word that I was in DEEP DOO-DOO, same word, more basic vernacular. I couldn't blame it on anyone else but myself. Other babies say, "Mama or Dadda" not my kid. Out of her first three words, the second was Dada...the first and second were eyebrow-raising. Um, crap. And she delightfully expressed her third word to my MIL, rhymes with truck. She didn't even call me Mommy...um, called my sister Betsy "Mommy" first. It took her a little while to figure out that "I" was her mommy and that Bets was her aunt as Erin spent most of her first three years during the daylight hours with my sister. It was a LONG time before she called me "Mommy" and only when she knew I was desperate to hear it. The battle of the titans between us had been since birth, she wanted not only 'out' from me holding in the stress of the loss of my niece, but she wanted total control. Erin has been all about controlling everything and everyone since birth, she wants a happy environment and woe to those who are not 'happy.'

I knew from the moment she was born, her birthday only two days away from my mother's, Erin was JUST LIKE MOM. Well, my mother, you didn't cross. I had to raise this most of headstrong children. It's been a loving war since day one for control. Trust me, my mother COWED me early and often. I learned NOT to cross her. Erin is just too much like Mom but I couldn't let her control it so the teeter-totter went back and forth, usually in my favor. I am the alpha, even all my grumpy felines know this and when I have to be the alpha, my mother shines through me. I don't know where it comes from, I certainly didn't have it as a child. Marion W. Caulk suffered NO fools. Somewhere along the way I learned not to but have tried hard to temper it. With Erin, there is little tempering.

As a true "Caulk" girl, she gravitated to her men, her father, and her uncle while allowing her cousins, her aunt, and finally me, to dote on her. Still, I was the 'bad guy' from jump. I was her mother. I was the one to tell her "NO" and mean it. The child was as headstrong as comes with my genes. There is a saying about the mule and a baseball bat, it's a truism. HELLO! Are you listening? Nope, not a bit, she had her own agenda from not only getting OUT of the hatch early (a month early--I want OUT, no weenie cord around her neck, it was tightly fisted between her two little hands) yep, she got her way, then.

Her set core values seemed to be in place at birth. By aged 2 I was a repetition of "Life isn't fair, get over it," litany. To this very day, she battles against it wearing it down. She accepts no defeat, it is one of her strongest traits, her persistence. If she has her way, she will bend the will of others to make things right. She has an innate sense of justice whether it is to her benefit or not and she will see it through. She is dogged about it.

In the just over two decades I have spent raising her I never thought she was listening to my own litany, but she was listening. I don't know exactly when or how it happened, but she grew up. It was HARD for her. I know it's difficult for lots of kids to grow up, but for Erin it was especially difficult with her father so ill, literally dissolving before her eyes when he used to be so strong, so independent.

Helping him to his chair, the wound care, the fetch and carry. She will sit and chat with him as he is so lonely when she needs to do her homework. She spends the time with him that others can't or won't she knows and understands how weak and what his needs are. She worries over everything, another genetic trait she received from her mother, yet Erin is proactive. As the kitchen floor sank and began to bounce with even the most careful of steps, Erin didn't wait, she reached out to her cousin, to Cory, to her Uncle Steve to COME. They did, all respond to my Erin. Did I say she was a blessing? Me? I was scared to call, scared to ask, scared because I knew it was going to be very bad. I was playing ostrich, the sand wasn't deep enough for me to hide my head into, I had enough fears. While those fears are ongoing, we'll figure it out somehow.

To this day, there isn't a teacher from day care to her professors who won't remember my child, both for the good and the bad. When she was very young, she was the child at the end of the chorus line that the teacher stood next to with her arm draped around her shoulder to hold her still and apply some semblance of control. Erin was a busy child, the one who never sat still during story time, never seemed to listen, the one they tested for ADD or ADH or A....whatever. Erin didn't need medication. They tested her, repeatedly, they found her 'intake level' for information very high, she couldn't stand to be bored and she was active but not hyper, very smart, just not on genius level. She accepted information on her own level.

There came a meeting of the minds in 7th grade, suddenly, 4 weeks before the school year ended, Erin was FAILING. Um, why? She stopped turning in her homework. I know she did it because I was with her every single night making sure she did. (To this day there is still NO ANSWER as to why--she doesn't even have one)

There was a HUGE round table meeting with both parents, the principal, and ALL of her teachers for about an hour. One teacher attempted the ADD or ADH thing, the principal, Mrs. Dunn, who had known Erin now for years (yes, Erin IS that memorable) stood up and told the teacher to hush. She knew what the issue was, not just helping out at home but at school. Work was given and Erin did the work and delivered it all. She passed and from then on knew her job was to PERFORM in school. She did so much she earned a partial scholarship without asking for it. She would have gotten a 'full ride' had she gone into extra curricular activities that she didn't want to.

Erin is a video gamer, she loves it, excels at it, it's her competitive spirit and her outlet. It's also the part of her that's kept her safe from some of the pitfalls of other youths in this area where their outlets are drinking, drugging, and casual sex. It's allowed her the time to grow up at her own pace, pick and choose, to become an adult. Erin is smart, savvy beyond her years, she just doesn't know she is. She's already dealt with more than most of her peers have in this life. She's not frivolous, she has a generous heart and the compassion of a full grown woman.

My Erin is strong in many ways, of heart, spirit, and as fiery as the color of her hair. She takes zero crap from anyone, expects others to pull their weight, yet has the softest of hearts with a generosity of spirit that is missing in so many. She dotes on those she loves, her pets, our elderly neighbor, her family and friends--and she worries.

How and when did all of this happen? Over the course of the last two years the change in her from child to woman has been incremental yet by leaps and bounds and I missed it. I wasn't paying as much attention as I should have. Rescuing her father from his fall, tending his wounds, handing over funds from her meager paycheck to help the house funds, cleaning, spending time with her father when most other children or young adults wouldn't...she's amazing. She coddles, helps, nurtures, and WORKS hard.

My Erin is my entire heart, she is everything I ever hoped she would be. She just doesn't know it yet, won't ever realize just how wonderful she is to me. Those who know her, love her deeply. They should because she is just that special, memorable, and will eventually find her way to excel once her family stops holding her back.

Twenty one years ago I had NO CLUE that the child I gave birth to would become the best friend I'll ever have.

Thank you my baby, I love you with all my heart.

December Realizations

2011-12-04T20:21:00.002-05:00

You know when you are struggling? Things are hard, you feel trapped, scared, and then you find out that someone has it much harder than you do--that is very close to you? You feel like total crap, like a whining little brat..no matter YOUR worries, somebody has it worse--trust me, they do.

I KNEW that, don't think I'm wallowing in self-pity, please don't think that. I'm not. I'm just working my butt out of a hole. I've got strong legs, arms, and fingers..one foothold at a time. I'll manage, I will! Fat little old dray-horses do (besides, we have those shaggy fetlocks--I am such a draft horse).

I know I literally UNLOADED all my fears last night on the blog. Um, I never really dreamed that many people read the blog...or even that my kid would. She did. I no longer have any secrets from her. I am just so grateful to have her -- she grew up in a big hurry. When did THAT happen?

It's been a hard weekend as well. A lot of catch up laundry, what vacuuming and mopping I could get done before he went back to sleep. These last few weeks rather ganged up on me all at once. The truck repairs on the charge card (again), the house issues, scary as they are, CAN be fixed, and Don's medical issues, well, they will be addressed and hopefully good news will come from the CT scan.

The house is holding together for tonight. Don is sleeping, resting as best he can before the lab work in the morning. Jury duty abated until at least Tuesday. I've food to feed my family and my neighbor for a few days to come.

The heat works, the water works, the toilet works, my family has warm beds to sleep in. I have a job. The kitchen floor is holding up for now. All these things are blessings.

I have people who love me, just why they do, I couldn't tell you. I'm too snarky and often have a smart mouth and too readily suspicious--I hate that about myself. I should be of a much more generous heart, life has been a hateful teacher to me making me too cautious. I am the queen of the smart-butt remarks after getting blessed out about five hours out of eight--avoiding any that the deliverer can hear. (Call it my personal therapy -- if I don't respond, get it out, I tend to implode).

Then I receive the understanding, totally and completely, that life can be much worse. Yes, I'm currently chasing my tail to make things better, fix things, and feeling much out of my own depth. There is no shame in wanting things to be right in the world, not just my own.

Thank you for today, hopefully tomorrow, and the following day. It will be better soon. Prayers and love to all.

Yep, life isn't fair, it just isn't.

Know this, ugly stuff I can accept for myself, I can. For myself, I willingly accept as I likely deserve what I get. However, for those I love--the innocent, I have a difficult time either accepting things I cannot fix.

I received a reminder tonight that life isn't fair. Nope, nothing within my immediate household, but trust me, life isn't fair and something else beyond my control. I'll deal with the hand I've been given. I will get US through this, that is just how it has to be. I can love and protect and haul the mail train, but it's still not enough.

Then there are those who suffer with certain knowledge and live within the realms of grace, with human halos, their time with us is limited. I feel a cheap, tawdry, caricature of a human being in their reflected glow--and they offer ME comfort. Oh God!! Why is it this way?

For these last years I have focused so much on as many SIMPLE joys as I can; clean, fresh smelling laundry, bed linens, as good of food as I can provide, the soft glow of a candle, old music, family memories, things like that.

A boisterous game of gin rummy, double solitaire, a walk in the back yard to look at the clouds..means are limited. All too often focused on keeping things quiet, taking windows of time to clean, make noise, learning to ignore certain clutter, some dirt and dust bunnies, sometimes ignoring even bigger things. My bond with soap and bleach can only do so much.

The day was quiet. Don ached, rested, ached, slept, ached, ate a cheese sandwich finally, ached, slept, and suffered. When you live in a perpetual sick house, you suffer right along with him. There is no amount of encouragement that turns the key to make things right, to brighten solitary days and nights for him. We work, move, do, as he cannot. There isn't a light at the end of his tunnel, he resents it with his entire being, he cannot get past his limitations as others seem to.

Even mostly confined to bed or chair, others focus on what they CAN do. Poor Don, I cannot get him to focus on what he can do. Making a potty stop is a huge effort for him at this point, and trust me, in this small house, it's not far away.

Yet comes the reminder, it can, could, might be, much worse. Others, dear ones, accept certain knowledge with grace, strength, fortitude, and humor. Why am I left so helpless to make things right? To make right for all?

I remember badgering Father Etherton through a mass of sniveling tears over the 'why?' nearly demanding, no, not nearly, I WAS demanding an answer from the man who I felt was closest to God about the unfairness of life. He couldn't tell me, he could only offer me comfort. The touch of his hand was a comfort as it took mine and I wept. There was no bringing back the dead. It pained him as he loved me, loved me as his own, his family he also felt his own.

For ten long years I was angry, long after I lost even Father Etherton who I loved deeply as well. The losses over the years mounted and I kept asking WHY? Where is there fairness in life?

The bald fact is that there isn't any.

No day brings a promise for the next; we are guaranteed nothing in this life. When the sun rises, we have to make the best of each day and appreciate what we have, strive for the future with the knowledge that life, for each of us is limited.

There is so much I want for my family, for my loved ones, for my husband, even more for my daughter, and yes, even promises to myself. While I'll never be able to make life fair, each day is a challenge. I'll try again tomorrow promising myself I'll appreciate even the most aggravating parts of it.

If you have shelter tonight, a full belly, and a bed to sleep in, feel blessed.

Thank you, thank you all. Sleep well.

The Drama that was November

2011-12-03T16:18:00.003-05:00

No, I'm not posting dinner pix, um, I was late to get started with that and somehow am out of sync. But we ARE having pulled pork, already a snafu since was was so tired when grocery shopping at 8PM on Thursday night after leaving work I was staring into the 'on sale' pork bin and grabbed a pork picnic and not a boston butt. Go figure. No worries, I can do this, it's just a little different. Altered recipe to follow, later.

Where was I?

Oh, yes, November, the month where I lose even more sleep than normal. Note to others: when they say 'older people don't need as much sleep' --they LIE! I feel like I'm currently working about a good week behind on sleep, my eyes continually feel like sandpaper and all those horrible old age lines are coming in. Actually I can feel them, feels like sunburn. NanoWrimo, I love you, but some years you do take a toll. This year wouldn't have been nearly as bad save several things: my house is trying to implode (literally and I've no way to really fix it), and Don fell INTO the access hole while we were away getting supplies to do a temp fix (more on that later too).

November was a busy month, I'm torn between the good and the bad. The good news was that "National Novel Writing Month" AKA NanoWrimo went well. As coordinator for Maryland's Word War Challenge with Austin/Houston TX, this year we WON for a change. It was filled with drama, a lot of writing and my novel worked well for a change. Our percentage of challengers was higher than any other year and also 54 out of 64 won it. That's amazing for us. For my own novel? It's not finished yet, will need massive cuts and likely two good rewrites, but it may end up as something I can upload to Kindle which is my goal.

That was the good news. I wish I could just focus on the good news.

The bad news was, no matter what I said to my family members about the 'sinking kitchen floor' and it was VISIBLE (just like walking in the tilted house at Frontier Town), until they ripped back the carpet and pulled up the wood where the old floor furnace was to crawl underneath the house--they FREAKED. It's bad, very bad.

This 'old house' was built in 1942. Apparently they were on short rations for building at the time. One of the supports was an actual LOG, with BARK on it, it fell away. There is also a lot of water condensation, rot, but no wet dirt under the house. All the floor joists have cracked. We still haven't figured out where all the water condensation is coming from (likely from the ongoing water leak beneath my kitchen sink for years until that was fixed in March, and with nowhere for the water to evaporate....) But honestly we still don't know. The coupe de grace was likely the earthquake felt around the entire mid-atlantic region from VA that shook this old house hard.

My BIL and his SIL were able to put one beam in place and jacked the floor back up, somewhat to stabilize it. It's a temporary fix. Several more beams will need to be put in place and the floors in the kitchen and dining room have to come up. I have NO IDEA how or when that will happen or when I would even be able to find funds for that. Life is good because it didn't collapse right on top of them, it was that 'iffy.' They literally took their lives in their hands to do this. I was terrified for them. They were shaking, visibly when they came back up from beneath the house.

Further, after the inspection, Cory and I went to Lowe's for floor jacks, pavers, cinderblocks, the beam, plywood...other stuff. Cory gently put the wood back in place over the opening in the floor where the floor furnace had been to keep the cats from jumping down there. Don wasn't having a good day. We told him it wasn't secure and to sit tight until we got back, about an hour tops. He was nodding off, I was hoping he would sleep in his chair until we got back.

It was a warmish day, the windows were cracked open. Erin had to run to town, she was leaving about 25 minutes later with her windows down in her vehicle...just as she was reversing, she heard her father yell and the loud thumps. He'd walked right onto the boards, they collapsed and he fell into the hole.

I never, EVER want to get that kind of call again. She was screaming. I was standing in the middle of Lowe's with Cory loading a rolling cart with supplies. The drop into the access hole was about 3 1/2 feet down. Don, who prior to his illness, was about 160 pounds soaking wet. He's now about 240 pounds due to all his meds, the steriods and his inactivity. He's unsteady on his feet on a good day, very frail, with osteoporosis, RA, degenerative disk disease, spinal stenosis, HP, onset diabetes, COPD...well, the list seems endless, because there's more. But suffice it to say that the fall into the hole could have killed him right there. He did the pinball around the opening before falling in.

I still will never figure out how my daughter managed to get him OUT of that hole. I know one thing, as groggy as Don was, he woke UP, and knew he had to get out before I got home. Together, they managed to get him out of the hole, he crawled to his chair bleeding profusely. Erin did everything he told her too, peroxide,towels, but the bleeding continued.

Cory and I raced home, with the purchases -- as before I could hang up, I could hear Don in the background calmly saying, "I'm fine, I'm out of the hole." Yep, he sounded just like that when he fell into the tub in the middle of the night not three weeks before during a potty stop at 2 AM. I found the door closed, no lights peeking from beneath the door then after hearing a mini-earthquake that had me leap out of bed from a sound sleep scared out of my mind.

At the closed door, "Are you ok?" I ask. "Yes, I'm fine," says he from behind the door. "Do you need help?" I ask. "Yes, I think I do," says he. Then I open the door and turn on the light and my heart stops. He slipped backwards into the tub onto his back...his poor, fractured, tormented back. I wasn't sure how to get him OUT. It took a lot of maneuvering, some hand holds and lifts, but together, he and I got him OUT of the tub and back into his bed. He went straight to sleep. I don't think my heart stopped racing for another hour. I was terrified he'd broken something..again. Later he advised he thought he was sitting down on the edge of the bed and just rolled back into the tub because he wasn't really awake. (Just please take another 10 years off my life.)

The fall into the 'access' hole was much, MUCH worse. Any description I give to you of his legs and ankles is gross, he has edema (swelling) and he drinks so much liquid that even with the water pills, his legs seep water. I try to keep them wrapped and the ulcers treated. Did I say I'm NOT a nurse?

But with this fall, he fell on his ribs, scraped one arm hideously from elbow to wrist, and the other, well, the other was so bad, it looked like someone took an ice cream scoop of flesh from his upper forearm. It was enough to make your stomach roll, several times. Then there was the long gash along his thigh where a screw from one of the boards ripped his flannel jammies, undies, and him, about 10" long and deep. And he racked up one ankle pretty well, he was lucky not to break that.

Did I mention he is on immune suppressant drugs for the RA (Rheumatoid Arthritis)? Did I mention that anything can infect him? Did I mention that his skin is like tissue paper, it rips almost by itself?

Once I was home I took over the wound care. The guys were under the house freaking out. For the moment, I was ignoring them, focusing attention to Don who NEEDED to go to the emergency room right away. He refused, had just enough strength to fight me o knowing even if I called the ambulance, he would still refuse. He couldn't walk another ten feet, mostly that's nearly his limit. On good days it's 20-30 feet. If he refused the ambulance, I had no way to force him. The volunteers cannot take him against his will. He knows this.

I sent Erin upstairs as I stripped him down, ripping off his bloodied flannel pants and drawers, washed him up, slathered him in antibiotic ointment on his thigh, dressed him as he leaned on me before setting him gently back into his chair on a towel, and then went to work on his arms. The elbow to wrist abrasion was bad--looked worse than what it was, lots of hot soapy water, ointment, surgical pad, then wrapped in an ace bandage. I checked his ribs, bruised but he was breathing okay. Nothing appeared broken. Then his left forearm. God, that was so ugly. It was deep, wide, nothing but meat and exposed tendon, one of those tendons was cut.

I begged him to go to the ER, he wouldn't. He's now terrified of going to the ER. He was afraid they would admit him. His mind logic, we can't afford it, the house is falling apart, they'll keep him and he'll die and we'll lose the broken down house. Did I mention he also suffers from depression?

Did I mention I just wanted to cave and die right there? I was scared to death. But I made him sit down, put the basin of hot soapy water into his lap and washed the 4" x 6" x 2" deep wound, filled it with a half tube of triple antibiotic cream, slapped a surgical pad on it and wrapped it tight with another fresh ace bandage. (Yes, I keep them here, I have reason to).

Then was the scary part of 'under the house.' It was worse then they dreamed, just more nightmares for me.

It took me nine days to get Don to the ER. Everything was healing up save the big wound in his right arm. Daily wound care and dressings, but I wasn't liking it. He needed antibiotics and a tetanus shot. Finally we went. The docs at the ER told me what I worried about, they couldn't stitch that big of a wound. Rather than the once a day wound care, it was twice a day. What I had been doing had been the right thing, just more and the antibiotics. They took x-rays just to be sure he hadn't broken any ribs--again.

Suddenly we were waiting a LONG time. The wounds had been inspected, dressed, instructions, the radiologist was lagging.

Well, apparently the radiologist WASN'T lagging, they were talking to the docs.

More NOT good news. News that hopefully my daughter will never know about. She doesn't read the blog, few ever do save about three, none of them know her (okay, Margot does) or will tell her. And due to my crappy NEW health insurance, because we didn't arrive at the ER with the same complaint, the doc's couldn't do a CT scan right there. He'd hurt his right side ribs, just bruised as I expected. They took the x-rays as a precaution to be sure.

But they found something in his LEFT lung which does NOT look good.

The CT scan is scheduled for Tuesday, the earliest I can get him there with an appointment. Blood work on Monday, Doc's appointment on Thursday. Did I mention I have jury duty? Did I mention I can likely only get him to the lab for blood work because that's at 7:45 AM?

Did I mention that I likely can't even take him to the doc's appointment so I won't KNOW anything right away and Don's always 'fuzzy' so I don't know who is going to take him yet? I have already used up ALL my time at work. Did I mention they just fired a bunch of people? Did I mention I still wait for them to close my office? Did I mention I don't have Christmas ready for my family, much less other people? Did I mention I can't lose my job and health insurance for him?

No stress peoples, no stress.

Right now, Erin knows nothing. Well, that's not true. She knows everything but the left lung issues. She's scared to pieces, going to school, studying like crazy, working every hour they will give her, giving me all her money for the house bills. It's shaming to me, hard for me. My daughter is a godsend but she shouldn't have to live her life terrified about her father, about her home, or me. That's just not fair.

Don's scared, worried, depressed, and fuzzy. He's fuzzy more and more now and when he's fuzzy, he picks arguments out of the air that mean nothing. The tension in the house just builds. I try but there is little I can do to relieve it for either of them and I just keep working, trying to clean up what messes I can to keep quiet when he sleeps, keep the washer rolling, and I'll cook.

I was so zoned out Thursday night after leaving work at 7PM, Erin finished her classes and met me at the grocery store. I was looking for bargains, like I always do and trying to cut the grocery budget. I thought I had found a nearly 10 pound boston butt for $12. Erin even asked me, "Are you okay Mom?" I had a bad case of the 'stares.' I was exhausted, not paying attention...I picked up a pork picnic. For the price, not nearly as good a buy. It would still do for the pulled pork but with alterations. That and a mega pack of stew meat...also another crockpot meal after some working with, coating searing...all that tomorrow. But if I work it right, the pair will serve for about five dinners with enough to share out and lunches.

I put the pork picnic into a brine...salt, sugar, water--dissolved, then chilled with ice. Onions, granulated garlic, cinnamon stick, red pepper flakes, cumin, bay leaf, tabasco, liquid smoke, and some chili powder. Into a tall stainless steel pot and out onto the back porch with a brick on top...it's a screened in porch, temps down into the upper 30's. Unless intruders are desperate, it was safe and cold enough out there to brine.

This morning I pulled it out, dumped and cleaned the pot. Patted the pork dry, took my filet knife and cut away the out layer of tough skin (mourning I couldn't, didn't have the oil to make crackin's out of it), but left a thick layer of fat on it. Put a bit of rub on it: brown sugar, chili powder, granulated garlic, salt, pepper, red pepper flakes, and more cumin. Then seared the mass in the giant cast iron skillet before plopping it into the already hot BIG crock I have. I added another bay leaf, sprinkled the fat side up with cinnamon, nutmeg, cumin, red pepper flakes, granulated garlic, and some chili powder. To that a little apple juice, not much, into the crock and let it go...for many, many hours.

Much later, I started the BBQ sauce. The base, one large red onion, diced, into butter and olive oil with salt and pepper to work down. Four LARGE cloves of garlic (mine are getting a little age to them now), once the onions were done, just to warm the garlic, not burn it so it won't get bitter. I 16 oz. can of tomato sauce, a good squirt of regular yellow mustard, brown sugar, molasses, cider vinegar, apple juice, cumin, red pepper flakes, and a healthy dose of tabasco. It was a tall pot that I allowed to bubble down and reduce. I kept checking, later it needed more mustard, more hot sauce, more vinegar, and some nutmeg.

I'm looking for blush and back end heat, not front heat in the sauce. If not, the pork, when it's finally done will eat that heat. I want some tang and full flavor, just not overwhelming. Sorry, no measurements today, if I have to give them later. I will. For me, it's enough to know what I put in there so I can go back and figure it out later if this works right.

Don was up today almost like normal after wound care. It's very painful for him. We'll be doing it later again tonight. Within an hour after Erin was up and 20 minutes before she left for work, he picked an argument. He does when he's upset. He doesn't even realize he's doing it, but knows a hot button and repeatedly pushes it, upsetting Erin because she defends me even when I tell her to hush.

This is my Saturday, shoot me.

She got upset, he got upset. I gnashed my teeth finally telling them both to hush up before whisking my laundry basket to the clothesline for two minutes of quiet.

She has no idea why he's so nasty right now. He's terrified. He has a right to be. When he's scared, he's not very nice. Both of us have decided that until we know the outcome to the CT scan, we aren't telling her because we both know she's more stressed than she needs to be with final exams coming up and a big paper due and that she's working every spare minute.

Then she left for work. He was upset, his BP went up, he felt sick. I put him to bed. Then I crept about the house mopping the kitchen floor to finish up what I could dare get done as he slept.

Life shouldn't be like this. It really shouldn't. Every time I think I've got a handle on it, something else blows a gasket. I swear I feel like the little dutch boy with his finger stuck in the hole in the dyke...and other holes are sprouting.

Don't mind me. This is just my little venting hole. TSG, Phil, you guys are the only ones reading, well, save my Margot. Know that all will be well. I will sort it out. I'm just on short sleep and a little frazzled right now.

Christmas is coming...right? (Oh dear God, get me through this!)

NanoWrimo Time AKA National Novel Writing Month

2011-10-29T17:44:00.004-04:00

I'm gonna have to go cold turkey on the blog for a bit. Aren't you all relieved? You should be. Why am I not going to be blogging for the next month? Well, for those who know me, know that every November for the last 11 years it's "NanoWrimo time." Which is short for National Novel Writing Month in which you get to participate for free, with lots of encouragement and the goal is to write a 50K (or more) novel in 30 days.

You can research and you can outline all you want, but the clock starts as Halloween ends at midnight on October 31st for the actual writing. As All Saints Day begins, you want to get started.

There are some who rigidly write the 1,667 words per day and others who will write in huge spurts, 5-10K in a day and then not write anything for days. I tend to fall somewhere in between, writing nearly every day but likely missing one or two days in the month and trying always to be ahead of the game.

This year I'm returning as the coordinator for Maryland's annual "Word War Challenge" against the Texas Lushguins (the combined cities of Austin and Houston). The concept with the word war challenge is to commit to reach not just the 50K goal but strive to write more, much more. Sometimes that really happens and sometimes we fail totally.

The nice part with the challenge is our participants on both sides know this is a friendly contest and it's more like a love-fest rather than a ruthless competition. Everyone wants to do well. (FYI -- Maryland has lost miserably the last two years in a row, therefore it is my personal mission to see we win this year, well, maybe).

The nice part over the last few years was a 3rd party website that another participant from both MD and TX (he moved to TX) set up to post the word counts automatically saving me a whole lot of time and energy hunting down our challengers and inputting into excel--it's the hunting down part that takes all the time there. That same wonderful man, John, several years ago wrote an incredible 1 MILLION words within that month creating 3 separate novels. Um, I am dogged to hit the 75K mark.

However this year we may not have the luxury of the 3rd party website due to API issues, Nanowrimo is using a new web hosting service and they haven't worked everything out yet so it looks like I'm back to excel at least for the beginning of it all.

The weather is sucky, the furnace came on, Don is having his normal bad reaction to big, bad weather systems, so I'm keeping watch.

Meanwhile, I COOKED but no pix, no video, no recipes -- it was killing me. I was being 'wery-wery quiet.'

I will say it was cube steak, Don's special request the last month running but it wasn't on 'sale' until this week so today is when we are having it. Now he feels so bad he can't eat it. So I cooked it up, boxed it all up, and somebody will eat it later.

Also working a tight budget, I bought more navy beans knowing I had double-freezer wrapped the left over ham bone that was very meaty. So tomorrow is a traditional bean soup with onions, carrots, the ham and I'll figure out some type of bread. As always there will be a LOT of soup. What I want are some good greens, I just didn't get to the little farmer's market around the corner today to find them. I'll figure something out.

So while Don's back into the bed, I'm watching the weather, waiting for my baby girl to come home safely, and I'll try to work on my outline which is woefully short and set up the spreadsheet for my challengers.

Never fear, I'll be back to bore ya'll to tears soon enough.

Oh, and I forgot! One very nice graphic artist is making up 'covers' for our novels. I love mine.

Her name is: Tirz
Her blog site is: http://acleverwhatever.blogspot.com/

Enjoy!

Bits 'N Pieces

2011-10-23T20:09:00.004-04:00

You ever wake up in pain, knowing you have slept 'wrong' on something? Yep, it was my turn, at 5:40 AM I didn't need an alarm, buzzer, the morning sun (which wasn't remotely up yet) or anything else, I was AWAKE and OUCH! I felt like I'd been laying on my right hip for about 30 years. I crabby-crawled out of bed, creaked out to the kitchen to start the coffee, retrieved Don's pain meds from the little lockbox, put them into his med box, then poured out a big, steaming cup of coffee and limped over to my chair with my book. There I sat quietly for nearly an hour shifting periodically in discomfort with the hip that wasn't easing up.

Normally when you wake up like that, a little movement, a steaming hot shower, just getting going helps. It's been over 12 hours and even after all the chores, blistering hot shower, and such, I'm kinda holdin' on to it with my hand and gimping a little. GEEZ! Somehow tomorrow I know it will be better. It's just one of those things.

Thus I was really slow to get moving this morning and I had things to do and not much was cooperating with me.

I had most of the clothesline outside still full of laundry from yesterday that hadn't dried yet and there was no air moving. That's odd at this location, normally there is always a breeze if not a gale. What we were getting was a very slight easterly breeze and it was damp, air cool. It was as if all the dampness in the ground was spilling upward. It was definitely not a good drying day and I still had lots of laundry to roll out and back in, two beds worth. I washed, hung, retrieved and then it was time for a dinner 'request' which was Don's. He just LOVES the 'beef tips and gravy' but this time he wanted rice, also for leftovers some boiled potatoes to go with the spinach. So there would be containers of rice with the beef and gravy and some with boiled potatoes and gravy. There was plenty and a good thing too, I ran out of containers again. I don't know where these things go, I'm constantly buying them.

I'd have the end product pix in the crock pot but it still looks like it did all those times before. Dark, rich, thick, and lots of it.

Grocery shopping, if it's not on sale, remember, I'm not buying it. What was on sale this week was the ground chuck that we had last night with the tri-colored rotini in a tomato sauce with onions and green peppers and such which I have a few containers filled for leftovers after sharing. Food Lion also had very small chuck roasts on sale, normally used for a decent pot roast but to make enough you need 2-3 of them if you want to have enough to feed, share, and have leftovers. Ya'll know I'm about leftovers because if you think when I get home after 7:30 at night from work that I'm cooking much, you'd better think again. You'd better be able to heat it up or make a sandwich. I'm done in by then.

However, by Wednesday or Thursday, they are either sick of leftovers or there aren't any left so then it's a grilled cheese night, hotdogs and beans, or the most decadent and totally NOT a real dinner...olive oil and mega-salted fries (yep, that's not a wholesome dinner--shut up. If I'm stressed out, that's what we are having. They can eat peanut butter sandwiches, but I'm having fries--that's my fav comfort food.)

Friday night is always a toss up, could be breakfast food, whatever I can find.

Still, it's the weekends that I'll actually cook. Not only cook, but big in volume and it has to be something they'll eat more than twice, likely at least 3 times--thus they have to LIKE it. So normally I'll make for Erin on Saturday, something, anything I know she'll accept 2-3 times, a bit spicier than her dad likes but something he can eat. On Sunday's, normally, it's Don's choice, but something Erin will also eat. That way they can change up. It's a balancing act that I'm still learning. Don will never-ever know just how much tabasco goes into most of the food he's eating. We won't even address the red pepper flakes, if he had a clue, he'd freak. It's not hurt him yet and he likes it. So, um, don't tell him.

(Did I mention he doesn't read the blog? He's online in such a limited capacity unless his BIL, Steve, tells him, I'm safe. Steve doesn't read my blog either, as most of the general public doesn't either, it's our secret.)

I was running late, why I run "late" on weekends still gets beyond me--blame the coffee. I had promised a crock pot meal. But this kind of meal isn't about dumping food into the crock and turning it on. Ya gotta brown your MEAT folks if you want it to taste good.

Yes, I could have tossed the two whole chuck roasts into the crock with the raw onions, garlic, and seasonings and walked away, but it wouldn't have tasted right. I diced up the roasts, seasoned them, seared the pieces in lots, into the crock they went, then the onions into the pan with some olive oil, butter, salt, pepper, to work down in the pan drippings, tossing in the dice garlic just a minute prior to adding about a cup of water to deglaze the skillet and all went into the crock. To that went the fresh from the bush rosemary chopped coarsely with a little balsamic vinegar and dijion mustard, a hefty load of soy sauce, a few bay leaves, and some tabasco. After a good stir, the mass was cranked up to high and let go for hours with the occasional stir between runs to the clothesline. The finish, thickening on this dish is cornstarch and water...instant gravy. It is considered a 'cheat' but when working a crock pot finishing up, a roux just doesn't work as well.

Normally we serve this over extra-wide egg noodles, but this time, Don wanted both steamed rice and boiled potatoes, switching up the leftovers to the containers to be a little different. The side, just simple spinach, several blocks of frozen, chopped spinach seasoned with just kosher salt, freshly ground pepper, a hint of sugar and a pat of butter, to later be accompanied with a drizzle of cider vinegar.

Then I received the text from my baby at work. She was sick. She's not been feeling well the last few days, going to sleep hours earlier than she normally does. She was nauseous, light-headed, feeling cold, and lethargic. Being the over-protective mother that I am, I wanted to see her, touch her, generally assess her condition. Unfortunately she was working and well, MOTHER cannot simply arrive into her daughter's workplace and do her MOMMY thing. I had to wait, encourage and reassure her.

She was finally home by 7 PM, by then, the beef and gravy were ready, still sitting in the crock, still piping hot, so was the rice in the steamer, the spinach, and even the boiled, drained potatoes. I try to time these things out. For the entirety of the day she'd ingested a bowl of cereal and a tiny container of pineapple bits--not enough. She wanted to eat but then not. I put a very small portion into a bowl as not to overwhelm her. She ate it all, about 15 minutes later, she wanted a little more.

For me, eating is a good sign. But she is tired and wan. She's 21 now, not a child, not blind, and she knows that things are a bit tight in the house, worries over her father's health, my work, and basic $$ issues. She is trying to take on extra hours at work and coping with her college classes while to try to help the house.

Grown? In many ways she's had to be but this kind of stress should not be for her. I've told her I'll handle it, no matter what. Her focus is getting that diploma. She has to make the grades, she's on scholarship. The worry gene she got directly from me. This child worries. She worries about everything. She knows first hand the trials of other family members and is pretty much running scared. I can only console her so much. Reality is what it is, it's nothing I can hide from her.

She looks at her father who she wonders just how long he's going to be with us. He has issues that frustrate her and make her cry, even lash out in frustration. He's lonely, often confused, and living daily with pain that I cannot fathom. Somehow we make it all work until the next day.

Me? When home, it's laundry, food, vacuuming, mopping...um, dusting may not happen, clutter clean up, and such. It's never enough. And the unending, "Can I get you something...?"

I received another surprise today. People who know me find it odd that I make laundry soap. Doing this has saved me more than a few hundred dollars over the last few years. Worse, I've snared at least one of my nieces into this, but I still make it for her. It works well and if I were to tell you 10 gallons costs about $2--including the price of hot water--pushing the price higher, it might just get your attention.

How do you make this?

1 cup WASHING SODA (no, not baking soda) -- I bought a case of 12 boxes for $35 2 years ago and still have 8 boxes out of 12...or you can buy a 50 lb. bag of pot ash from your local pool supply company. Um, I found it easier to order those big boxes from Amazon with free shipping.

1 cup borax, you know, the 20-mule team stuff. It's about $4.50 a box, it'll last, at a cup at a time, it will.

1 bar of either Octagon 'all purpose' soap, or fels-naptha, it depends upon your region, either are fine. I love my Octagon soap, all lemon-grassy. Prices range from .69 to .79 cents a bar.

Grate up the bar of soap, put into a pot on the stove with about 4 cups of hot water, put on medium low to melt completely. Meanwhile have the kettle on high and boil some hot, hot water.

Into your 5 gallon container (a big empty cat litter container), 1 cup washing soda, 1 cup borax...add very hot water, boiling, to fill about 1/3 the way, keep adding hottest water from the tap...stir well. About this time your soap mix in the pot should be ready, pour in, keep stirring, add MORE hot, hot water, it will thicken and keep stirring as you fill to the top with hot water.

Mix well, slap on the lid and let rest. It will make a thick gel overnight.

This is your laundry 'concentrate' because the recipe is double for usage.

Meaning you fill 1/2 a container with the gel, the other half with water, shake well, and pour out by the cup, one cup to large load of laundry. Um, is there ever anything other than a LARGE LOAD?

Now your container? Take an oversized liquid detergent container that you won't have to buy anymore, but force that 'pour spout' down into the body of the container. When you add the 'soap' and then the water, turn the cap on tightly and shake, that POUR SPOUT is kind of a mixer, agitator of sorts. It works, trust me, this works. I've been using this for over 2 years. There isn't a cheaper way to wash your clothes and I line dry mine, that scent of lemon grass is sweet. It looks all gloppy and is a bit awkward/goopy, but you get used to it quickly and you'll never look back.

You make this like every 2-3 months. It depends on just how MUCH laundry you wash. I may only have 3 peoples here, but I WASH a lot, a whole lot, it's kind of my personal therapy. Me and the washer and the clothesline and fresh sheets on Sunday night. Yep, that's me.

If you have good, fresh, country air, hot, cool, or even frigid, it works. I spend months hanging out laundry that freezes to my hands as the winds try to yank it straight off the line and the lines AS I'm hanging them. But if the humidity is low and the winds are right, it's sweeter than anything that the premium Downy will ever sell you. And YES, I make my own clothespin bags too. I have laundry issues.

I know I talk about washing laundry or cooking or other things a lot. The reason I do that is because often they are the few things I can control, all else is beyond my reach. My friend Sherri posted tonight about her brother with stage 4 cancer, Lillie talked to me tonight about her niece, Brooke, also fighting cancer, as I asked others simply to 'like' a page on FB to help out.

I know about cancer. Nope, not first hand, not in that sense, I've been lucky myself so far, but I grew up with it, my sister, the miracle child, the wonder, and it lives with me that we were SO lucky that Melly survived even though she suffered later repeat bouts and met them all straight on without flinching.

And I freak out when my 'kid' doesn't feel well? This is the kid who is NEVER sick, well mostly never sick. I can probably count on one hand the times she's been sick other than just a snotty nose and she never really had many of those either--if she felt bad, well, she had to poop. (Hush up, haven't you ever felt bad when you had to poop?) Erin will complain about everything but never about feeling bad. The child has an almost OBSCENE good health record. She doesn't do 'sick' well. I don't do well when SHE feels bad. I can deal with all else but my baby being sick. I mean it.

Do NOT make me harken back to the Roseola days where she spent 3 days in the bathtub in oatmeal and never actually dried off. But we broke that fever and that horrible rash faded. 72 hours without sleep, I could not actually repeat now.

And after another 20 minute tearful exchange, I know the issue. She's scared to death. How to console her? Simple honesty. I will get us through this. I will accept whatever help she can provide but she has to also accept I will protect her above all.

I remember being her--her age, her fears, her frustrations. I also know those fears never left me. We've made it this far, we'll make it farther. I simply have to restore her confidence in me. She's just scared I'm going to die on her. I told her that I was not gonna do that, I'm just a little too evil to be called back into the clouds at this time. (I think I've figured out I must have done something especially hideous in a previous life, I'm still 'in' for whatever is headed my way. No matter, my baby will be safe.)

Wishing solace and peace for my baby. Tomorrow is Monday, it's another day yet my sweet flannel, line-dried sheets are calling me. All are sleeping on fresh beds, food in their bellies, it's enough along with the roof over our heads. I won't even talk about the sinking floor in the kitchen or the garage that is about to collapse. I see only what I have to at the moment--all of my coping mechanisms are in full force and working well. Shields up!

Hey, my truck started okay for two days in a row! I think I'm working the rose-tint on my reading glasses at this point. Just remind me not to look over the top of them too much.

Halloween from Ago

2011-10-22T21:07:00.004-04:00

And I never posted this vid here?

Oh, that's right, NanoWRimo 11/1, that's why.

Likely I sent it up like a firework, hoping others would see it.

Halloween is likely the most 'fun' time we have as a family. It's relaxed, fun, a little scary, but never to the little ones.

However, if you are between the ages of 8-13, you are totally fair game. Normally the parents love it, we've had no complaints.

Let's see what happens THIS year!

Enjoy!

Jazzed Up Fam-Fav, Is it really still Goulash?

2011-10-22T18:03:00.004-04:00

It was my turn to work this Saturday. I HATE working Saturdays, it means there really isn't a weekend, well, much of one. Okay, so I was able to leave work at 2 PM on Thursday, but with the run to the doc's office to pick up script, trip to the pharmacy for filling, and then to the grocery store and home. While I was home 2 hours earlier than normal and spent most of the rest of the night filling up the clothesline with laundry, somehow that just didn't feel like a 'half-day' at work.

I rushed home once I clocked out today, luckily not stuck on an irate call, made a 2 minute stop and spent $2 on lottery tickets, I'm a dreamer, but a cheap dreamer, hush up. Then headed home and had Erin strip her bed as I put the washer back into business. This weekend is about 'immediate-type' chores, the vacuuming and mopping will wait until tomorrow. It was hauling trash, unload the dishwasher, and reloading, after washing them, of course. Where do all these dishes come from. My meal today was peanut butter and saltines I stashed at work along with some coffee I snatched up on the way out the door.

It was a busy Saturday morning on the phones but not especially bad. There was only one person that really did not wanna hear what I had to tell her. Unfortunately I have to deliver bad news at times. As a comparable, you tell the repair shop that your auto insurance isn't paying and tell him that it's HIS problem but you are getting your car fixed and you are not accepting the bill. Go ahead, try to get the keys and drive away--not happenin'. However in the healthcare biz, your treatment can't be repo'd, but you will definitely get the bill if your insurance doesn't pay and it IS your responsibility, and further, even if your insurance pays leaving you a hefty coinsurance or deductible, um, you are still responsible or you have to take it up with your insurance. Screaming at me doesn't make it all go away, neither does pleading ignorance about knowledge of your benefit plan. And please do not make me go there about the $3/$25 copay for medicaid in NY, I WISH I had that kinda plan. Trust me, you stay IN the hospital for 50 days and complain about a $25 copay, um, I want that plan, you know the one the rest of NY pays for.

"In with the good air, out with the bad air," once home, I was busy, picking up and trying to figure out what I was going to do with a hurry-up meal with some ground chuck (on sale, of course) a box of tri-colored rotini, a fat red onion, one green bell pepper, along with a can of diced tomatoes and a can of tomato sauce. Can you say some goulash? Well, not the old-fashioned goulash, some with a little pep.

Erin was to be at work by 5:30 so I was able to get started before 2:45 so she could eat dinner before she left. Using the big 5 quart skillet (I'm gonna have to replace that soon), I browned the chuck in lots with salt/pepper/garlic powder, scooping it out with the spider to drain. Once all the burger was well browned, I drained off most of the burger grease leaving a bit, tossing in the diced red onion to work down, not quite brown as I chopped up the green bell pepper. As the onions were nearly ready, in went the green pepper bits for a few more minutes, before adding back the drained burger.

Then into the skillet went the can of diced tomatoes, the tomato sauce, about 1 1/2 tablespoons of dried italian seasoning, some basil, oregano, sugar, soy sauce, tabasco, red pepper flakes, paprika, two bay leaves, and some liquid smoke. I gave it all a good stir around to incorporate before putting in the 1 lb. box of tri-colored rotini, another good stir, and then enough water to 'level' it out, not totally cover the mass. As it was it filled the 5 qt. skillet to the rim. I brought it back to a simmer with the lid cracked and let it go for about 10 minutes stirring occasionally.

The rotini was nearly done when the buzzer went off but not quite. It was tasting time. It needed more salt, pepper, but not much else. Then it was time for another good stir, gently, but well, then slapping the lid tight and turning off the heat for another 15 minutes as the pasta sucked up all the liquid creating a rich sauce to coat.

The first time I made the dish this way was back in July. It went over very well, only addition was the green bell pepper, per Don's request and I had anticipated that and spent the $1 and brought one home. It is better with the green bell, but Erin would have preferred a red bell, and some hotter peppers, but I didn't dare go there. Sneaking in red pepper flakes and tabasco sometimes I can pass off as 'temp hot' with Don. Hey, I can only fool him some of the time, but he knows when I cook on the weekends I try to cook those two dishes, one for Erin, one for him, that they can both eat more than once, and enjoy.

Dinner was ready by 4:30, just when I had planned, enough time for Erin to scarf down before going to work, but they called her in early so she left while I was still cooking taking a peanut butter sandwich, a granola bar, and a glass of iced tea to go.

Don ate, I delivered several containers to Mister Lewis, our neighbor, before packing up the rest. I know Erin will heat some up when she gets home.

Then it was more laundry, that washer never seems to quit with more jeans, now with the addition of a few sweatshirts as the temps are going chilly. The flannels for Erin's bed dried nicely along with her quilt, and now more towels and shirts remain out there until tomorrow morning when I'll strip off the other two beds and anything else that isn't nailed down will go into the washer and out on the line.

The dishes have been washed up and it's quiet around here. There's still too much to do but not much else for me outside of getting ready for NanoWrimo, National Novel writing month in November. I'm WAY behind getting my outline done so it's time for me to get busy on that.

For the very few who follow this blog, just know there will be very few updates come November. Only if I'm way ahead or unless I'm totally blocked, only then will there be any blog updates. I'll be chasing my tail with the 'novel' and running the Word War Challenge with Texas, an annual event of good fun, camaraderie, and a little trash talkin' to keep us going to the end.

One day I'll actually finish what I start. Last year's novel was the best, after 11 years you would think I'd have something. Still it got convoluted and remains unfinished. This year, I think I may have a line on something better, not so much wish-fulfillment type stuff.

Ever wish you had someone else's life? Put on a pair of glasses and suddenly see into another's life, definite possibilities there. We'll see how it turns out. I've just got to get my butt in gear.

Enjoy the night!

Pumpkin Carving, BFFs, And Some Intensive Care Chicken Soup

2011-10-16T20:27:00.004-04:00

Sundays are reserved for special things, today's special thing meant Erin was finally home for the whole day at the same time I was, and she had PLANS. Today was pumpkin carving day with her BFF for life, my 'other' daughter, Lindsey. They've been best buddies since they were 4 years old. Now grown, Lynnie married, pregnant, an army wife with her hubby far away, she's come home from Alaska; still some traditions never die.

Today was about getting my bed linens out early, and firing up the oven to high temps early and breaking down chickens. I'm proud of myself, I'm beginning to get good at that--cutting up chickens, remember I don't buy it if it's not on sale. However today I was a little more brutal and lacked finesse, but I didn't need to be fancy, just get the birds into their correct parts, season well and stick both trays into a very hot oven to roast up for what was coming later.

It should have been a lazier day, more relaxed, yet I still found I was running behind after early morning coffee and a very hot shower. Once the chickens were out, they had to cool enough for me to handle and break apart, as the veges for the stock went back into the oven on one of the trays to roast up in the residual chicken fat, red onions, sliced head of garlic, and carrots--more salt and pepper.

While today didn't have the screaming gales of yesterday, today was a pretty decent line-drying day. The air was cool enough, fresh enough, nature's gift if I work it right, a fleeting freshness that no commercial softener can replicate. It's my one real gift to my family and to myself. I'll do just about anything to make sure those bed linens, sheets, blankets, quilts, all get washed, out and back on the beds.

Lynnie arrived just after noon and I still didn't have the bones of the birds back in the oven to finish roasting more as the veges were on another tray. Yes, stock takes HOURS and I was behind again. So, scorched fingers and all, I was stripping meat as quickly as possible. Even with all the windows open, it was pretty warm in the kitchen with the oven cranked up to 450 degrees for the last hour and a half.

The meat from the birds was placed into a ziplock bag and into the fridge to chill down as the oven kept working its magic. I needed those bones and the rest of the meat left on them to actually ROAST, that is what makes the wonder of a good stock.

Into the big pot went all the roasted bones, the roasted veges of onions, garlic head, and the carrots. Also I chopped large pieces of celery, about 4 stalks, leaves and all, added water to fill, more salt, pepper, several bunches, about 4, of fresh clipped rosemary from the bush, 4 bay leaves, and some thyme. This was going to take a while to bring to a boil, I set it on high while hanging out more leftover laundry.

I scrubbed up the cooking racks and everything else involved in prepping the chicken to this point. All that it needed now was time to really cook.

Then it was time to pick up pumpkins. Um, all three farmer's markets were 'closed' today, I don't know why, they are always open. The kids dropped me back at the house as I couldn't be gone that long from the boiling pot of stock working and lit candles glowing. The pair headed off for parts unknown to locate pumpkins, we needed four, as we were hoping another would arrive to participate in the carving fun. It ended up that she was unable to attend.

It took them a while, but they finally returned with 4 small-medium pumpkins--on sale (That's my girl!). We don't need big ones to carve. They set up on the back porch, I handed them sharp knives, strong and sturdy spoons to scoop with along with a bucket to dump the leavings which I would put to good use later.

They turned up the old boombox with comedy standup -- normally we play the Halloween music, the Vampire Songs, but today we needed something funny; classic George Carlin always fits the bill. His logic always works and is as funny the 100th time I hear it as the first. Bless him, I love George Carlin, he was the educated man of the 70's that never lost his anger or wonder over rampant stupidity. I heard him first when I was 13, and if my parents had ever heard the album, played in our basement with all the neighborhood kids, they would have fainted. I stole that vinyl from my sister, it's HER album, but I have it: Class Clown. Now I have all the CD's. His words are as fresh today as they were decades ago.

Giggles and fart jokes abounded on the back porch as I listened to them from my hideaway spot by my computer just off the kitchen right at the open back door leading onto the porch--trust me, it's a closet. Those who have visited my little shack know this to be true. Up down, back and forth, checking the boiling vat, the kids, Don, snapping pix with camera, watching the bed linens flap. I was in a holding pattern, simply waiting for the stock to finish to be usable for the soup.

Meanwhile, into the 5 quart skillet when another large red onion, chopped, the remainder of the celery, chopped a bit more finely, about 10 decent sized russets, peeled and thickly sliced, and the other pound of carrots, peeled and chopped, into a bit of butter, olive oil, salt, pepper. They managed a good sear and then steam, they would be added to the pot for body and flavor--yes, two starches, potatoes and noodles, hush up. This is a meal, not a precursor.

As the potatoes/carrot mix finished, I cut the heat, slapped the lid on them and let them set. Soon now it would be time to scoop out/drain the stock. I didn't have a larger pot to drop and drain in, so we went with the 'spider' method. A spider is one of the most versatile tools in your kitchen-don't be without one.

Lava-hot everything in the stockpot came out, save a lot of the rosemary still swimming around in there. Into my big steel bowl all the leavings went, to cool and to offer up to the raggedy band of felines outside who began yowling at the porch door hours earlier, they KNEW they were going to get something. As hot as that mess was, they WAITED a long while. If not, they would burn themselves, the silly minx that they are.

As that mass cooled, It was time to put the potato/carrot/celery/onion mix from skillet to pot. Um, I'm not delicate, even being careful, I splashed myself with hot stock pretty good--OUCH! I'd already pulled out the chicken meat I'd stowed in the fridge hours earlier and began to shred that into another bowl to add in to the pot, as it all came up to boil again, in went two bags of extra-wide egg noodles, then the chicken, I slapped on the lid, turned off the heat and let it set for 30 minutes to allow the noodles to cook and the chicken not to overcook. Everything was totally seasoned and ready.

The girls were finishing their pumpkins, Erin sorted out some of the seeds to give to friends who asked for them. I served Don up, told him to allow it to cool, like another 20 minutes, filled a few containers and ran them over to Mister Lewis as I could catch him outside. With the windows open, he could smell what was cooking--the outside felines were running madly about in anticipation and chased me next door. It never works to tell them it's not for them, they are a bunch of beggars, they received bounty later--I'm just so glad they are ALL FIXED, no more babies, no more kittens. We'll attend the walking wounded, but no more after all these years thanks to Mister Lewis and my cage.

Speaking of Mister Lewis, I'd missed him last night with the chili and cornbread, was able to deliver that this morning on a laundry run. He can be very elusive at times and as he is deaf, once he's back in the house, pounding on his back door, if his also deaf dog doesn't hear you, you are stuck until the next day for a delivery.

Then it was serving up the kids, well, they aren't kids anymore. The clean up of the pumpkins, allowing the soup to cool some more and knowing I didn't have enough containers. I had about 30 containers on Friday, but after yesterday, my store of containers dwindled by more than half, actually I only had about 8 left (the chili and cornbread really left the house). That really wasn't enough to store away this mass of soup, but I found other containers, wrapped them in foil tops and filled the fridge, and the outside kitties got the last of it as it cooled enough for them to eat. This was followed by a major clean up and scrub down of the stove.

Between all that, I carved my own pumpkin. I don't waste time or effort, I'm not really good at it but go for the dramatic--one very sharp knife a few cutouts, some scrapings and we are DONE! A few years back I saw a 'pukin' pumpkin, that's what I go for, little squinty eyes, big round mouth, and all of the innards sprayed down the steps. It's an eye-catcher. I love it!

Outside, the lighting performed, the wind was picking up, then back inside to fill their tummies. Then for the brownies, except this time I can't add the hint of cayenne pepper, Lynnie is allergic, so it was extra cinnamon.

After some debate, she's staying over, they have the giggle-fest going just as they did years back. Some things are simply wonderful, beyond price, value at infinity. The laughter of my babies with carefree joy is another gift.

When Lynnie hogs the bed and Erin camps out next to me and then begins to punch me in the shoulder because I'm snoring, she'll be lucky if I don't either snore louder or send a trumpet her way to send her back up the stairs. Hey, old ladies need their sleep.

It's been a fabulous weekend both weather-wise and busy-wise and food-wise, other aspect I'll choose to ignore. Tomorrow is Monday, I'll face it when I have to. At least this weekend I choose to accept on my own terms.

Weather, food, family, it was precious to savor. I wish it for you too.

Regenerating Hope using strong winds and vat'o chili

2011-10-15T17:09:00.002-04:00

I've often characterized myself not as an optimist or a pessimist but a realist. Who was I trying to kid? I latched onto my father's sage words as a child and hope my child retains them as well, "Hope for the best, plan for the worst," was the short and sweet of it.

Hope is always such a shining word, evoking images of shining children's smiling faces with stars in their eyes, sunshine, moonbeams, all that is good in the world. Yet hope and faith are not so shallow as that or even as tenuous, trust me, I can tell you a few things about hope because I'm getting to be an old woman, I've seen a lot over the years.

Hope can be worse than a heroin addiction, you keep on trying, clinging to the slightest of chances even when you know the outcome. The cliche of 'hope springs eternal' is often scoffed at, yet most of us still cling to it in the face of disaster, death, repeated disappointments. Sometimes, it's all we have.

There is a wellspring in all of us, some stronger than others, that helps us to keep on going day by day as we smack directly into failure and disaster. We cope one day at a time, one hour at a time. Sure, sometimes we cave, we cry, we allow ourselves to give up, yet for most part, it's a temporary setback. Another day comes, we are grateful for the roof we still have, the food we eat, and that everyone is currently still breathing in the house. It's time to keep shuffling, keep moving, and try another day. Worry over the ever looming broadening dark cloud doesn't help. If you keep moving enough, sometimes lightning doesn't strike you.

Yesterday after 24 long days of waiting I was met again disappointment. There was a possibility for me, a new avenue, hope for easement for my family, a little relief, new hope, so to speak. It was not to be.

I know I'm not alone in this, many of us are in the same boat. Still, it hurt. It hurt a lot. The worst part of the disappointment and let down was that answer, 'yes' or 'no' wasn't even given to me. The non-response was answer enough I guess.

Hope left, flew off on wounded wings and I mired myself in disappointment but tried NOT to wallow in it. I had things to do, so I kept busy. I started the washer and begin loading the clothesline in the dark hours. The weatherman promised a bright, windy, dry day. I could knock out hours of work early and let nature do it's thing for me. I kept washing laundry and hanging it out until just before my baby came home and all in the house were safe. I cashed it in and went to bed.

This morning the sun was brilliant and the winds returned, strong and gusty, with low humidity, temps in the 60's. Previous disappointments were shed, pushed to the side, I couldn't think about them, I had things to do, I didn't have time to allow any sad thoughts about my rejection.

Opening windows, stripping beds, manning the washer, picking up clutter, bleaching trashcans, bringing in fresh laundry from the line...it was a busy time. Busy allows you to heal. Manning the vacuum cleaner, mopping floors, scrubbing counter tops, clearing the decks for later work, food prep, all that.

All my energies focused on the now and what needed to be done.

The winds brought fresh, clean air into the house pushing out the stale generating an energy within me to keep on moving, doing, readying. Hours later, all was done save the food.

Shopping this week, always looking for the sale items, the bargains, what can I make and what will be able to be shared and what will stretch. This week is was 'cheap' burger, you know the 73%, and I even got another $1 off that, so 4 lbs worked out to $12, not bad. The Hanover kidney beans, the best canned beans in the world were 2 for $4 of the big cans. I snagged 4 of those, 2 light, 2 dark -- guess where I'm going here? I jar of storebrand mild salsa, and I already had cans of petite diced tomatoes. Yep, I was makin' chili!

For tomorrow it will be the 2 little fryers I managed for $4 a piece but will make a whole lot out of, including homemade stock. I'll tell ya about that tomorrow.

Meanwhile, once the house was as clean as I could get it with Don still slowly coming around from his latest bout of illness, and that's not over yet. I sent Erin off to work and then addressed the food. Chili doesn't have to take 5 hours, actually, it's pretty quick but you do want your flavors to marry up. Further, a good 'stand up' chili doesn't need 5,000 ingredients either, just the basics -- keeping with the salty, spicy, and a touch of sweet, all can be done on a budget.

Into the 5 qt. skillet went the burger, but not all at once, in lots. Remember, never crowd your meat. That sounds so obscene, but it's true--browning gives flavor--gray meat doesn't have any, remember that. If you want your meat to brown and not steam, do it in lots, allow it to brown, scoop out, and drain. Sprinkle with salt after it goes into the pan, then pepper, along with a touch of granulated garlic.

As the burger is resting/draining, into the skillet with all the burger grease/fat, one very large red onion-chopped finely, more salt/pepper, worked down until just translucent, then both the drained burger and the onions, all into the larger pot. To that add the 4 large cans of kidney beans the 2 light and 2 dark; 2 of them drained, 2 of them not. 1 can drained black beans, 2 cans petite diced tomatoes, 1 jar mild salsa. Have the big pot on medium heat.

I would have added fresh peppers and mushrooms, they were just not in my budget this week. The chili will be good without them, just not 'more'. I almost added a drained can of my special reserve of black olives, but nobody likes them like I do so I'm not wasting them.

Into all this, some soy, brown sugar (hush, yes brown sugar, not a lot), the diced fresh garlic, about 4 cloves, 1 1/2 tablespoons of cumin, 2 tablespoons chili powder, 3 teaspoons red pepper flakes, marjoram (I don't know how much--maybe a tablespoon or more--best herb ever), more granulated garlic, about 1/2 tablespoon. More kosher salt, freshly ground pepper, and then a generous shaking of tabasco sauce, and about 2 tablespoons paprika. (It think that's all that went in there, with me, once I start with the spices, you never know...)

The mass brought to a bubble, then turned down to lowest setting, a few good stirs, then a tasting, more salt, more brown sugar, and more tabasco. Allowed it to simmer a bit before turning off the heat, stirring more, tasting more, more freshly ground black pepper, more marjoram, finally balanced. Lidded and allowed to rest, don't over work the chili, not if you want it to be of the 'stand up' variety. The vat is big enough to hold the heat and allow the flavors to finish marrying up.

I received a surprise guest tonight. My former BIL, one who loved my mother's cooking. Don had eaten and gone to sleep for a bit. Tom stopped by with his son to see Don. Don doesn't get visitors often. Tom spied the cornbread was still in the oven, nearly done.

"Is that Marion's cornbread?" he asked. Mom's version fit an 8"x8" pan, but I've morphed it to fit a 9"x12" pan. I told him it was. Tom went on to regale his 16 year old son, the son from his second family, about my mother. Tom told his son about what a wonderful woman she was and what a great cook she was, as he kept his eye on the lighted oven and the tray inside.

Within minutes out of the oven, he was eating it and sharing with his son. Well, yes, my mom was the best cook I ever knew--bar none, even all the TV foodie chefs, she could shame them if she wanted to--and I never paid attention enough.

Jamie and Joey, my niece and her hubby, arrived for 'take out' dinner of chili and cornbread, Tom had just left their house, they live nearby. So I suddenly had a houseful with a sleeping Don, he heard them and shuffled out, glad to see others, grateful for the visit and company as he is so terribly lonely.

Meanwhile, I loaded up containers to go both with chili and cornbread. It makes me feel good that others like my food enough to come and get it.

The other day I also received word that parts of an earlier blog about my friend his son found and used in the eulogy at the funeral for my friend, Carey Flynn. I was unable to attend due to work, but then, I've gotten to the point that funerals are terribly painful for me and I avoid them at all costs. Likely the next one I attend will be my own if I work it right, even then, fry me up, put me in a jar--don't bother with a funeral. Toss me into the Miles River and I'll be happy--just don't stick me on the back of the commode. I will be pissed off.

No tears for me, have a little party. The Irish do it right with a wake, no keening though, please. Have good food, good drink, a little remembrance and sighs over what she 'should have done' but didn't-well dammit! And remember me a little later on, that's all I want.

If anything, remember to do what I didn't, or haven't done yet. But I'm workin' on it, really, but there's the laundry....again. (Me loves my laundry)

What came to mind is that this is the SECOND time my words have been used in someone else's eulogy -- neither of them my family either.

Years back, when I was badgering the local paper with my nonsense, little articles, observations, the general manager, editor, such a nice man, I won't name, he was about to retire. He published about six items I sent him and as the internet was coming into its own, later referred me to a local e-zine that I published weekly to until that went defunct about two years later. Meanwhile he and I kept in touch. He wasn't on great terms with his father. There had been a lot of tension between them over the years and now his father was dying and he didn't know what or how to handle it. He loved his father deeply.

In a rather long email to him I reminded my friend that often it's the simple human touch that bespeaks what words cannot, the clasp of a hand, the unspoken joining of souls, a reconnection of decades past from father to son, and now son to father.

I had no idea until after my friend's father's passing, he wrote me back telling me that he used most of my email to him to read at his father's funeral, that they had found common ground and reconnected in love at the end.

I cried like a baby understanding his loss still in the ongoing, seeming NEVER to end acceptance of my own parents passing. However for me there was never any estrangement, I simply couldn't leave my parents alone, I loved them totally, completely and wanted them with me every day of my life which didn't happen. And you wonder why I'm that hateful witch I am? The answer is obvious.

Now, after so many years, my words for another friend were used to help others accept an exit from life. I was stunned. That's not something I ever expected to happen a second time, not even after all these years.

What I have to accept is that maybe I really should change my perspective and try other avenues, something that I can latch my hopes to. Is there success to be found in the non-traditional work environment? I know people do it all the time. Maybe it's time to try something different, something more suitable to me.

What did they say about Grandma Moses? In her 70's? Okay, maybe I have a few decades of a start for a fresh venue.

I've done all I can with today and it was good. No matter what, tomorrow is going to be a good day.

Rustic Bounty with a Cuban twist

2011-10-09T18:47:00.004-04:00

It's Sunday evening again. I do NOT know how it comes so fast. No matter how I plan I just do NOT have the organizational skills of my mother. What I should have scheduled and apportioned out time-wise for multiple tasks ends up being a snafu as several tasks end up needing to be done at that the same time, more of a hurry up and wait followed by a frantic tail-chasing event.

I was up pretty early. The day was gorgeous and promised to be very warm for the season, low 80's. This was counter to what I was cooking today, things that are better in chillier temps but I had already bought my sale items so rustic and warm it was.

Three loads filled the line early to be followed with 4 more, the last of the clothes, all the bed linens for two beds, and finally the whites. I also had to hurry and put the pork picnic on to marinade (should have done it yesterday..oh well). Going with adobe this time--Cuban influence(?). While I didn't have all the ingredients, we made do, but I wish I'd had some oranges or sour oranges, even limes would have helped. Oh well.

Seven fat cloves of garlic, smashed up, about 4 tablespoons of oregano (no, I didn't have fresh), a LOT of salt, pepper, canola oil, and cider vinegar. Into the mortar and pestle for a good mix up, it's big so it held it all. (It was one of my best kitchen buys ever--holds over 2 cups..granite for $20) The mass was slathered on the pork and beneath and in all the punctures I'd made along with the cross-hatching on the skin. Then wrapped up and back in the fridge for a few hours before bringing it back out to warm a bit, 30 minutes. This was an 11 pound picnic--a LOT of bone there.

In between all that, I had bananas I had gotten on sale with 4 left. That and two cans of pumpkin, we were in business for pumpkin-banana bread, two loaves, one gifted away. My BIL took one with him when he left. By the time that finished, I had to crank the oven up to 450 to get that pork in for 35 minutes to get it rolling before turning it back to 350 for a very long cooking time. By then, it was getting rather warm in the kitchen.

Also I had to address the greens, 2 lbs of very nice mustard and turnip greens, which are peppery/spicy. Into the big skillet went the diced red onion, butter, olive oil, salt and pepper: the basic work down--then about 3 cloves of finely diced garlic just to warm. Once that was ready I added the greens in lots to wilt before going into the already hot crockpot. To that mass I added some chicken base, about a tablespoon, water, and turned it up on high and let it go. Later I added more salt and a touch of sugar. These are peppery, spicy greens, no tabasco needed, just some vinegar and butter to serve with, whatever the eaters taste.

Then the 7 big sweet potatoes, peeled and sliced thick. They were enough to fill the now freshly washed 5 qt. skillet. In the bottom, a stick of butter to melt, added the sweet potatoes, salt, sugar, brown sugar, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Turned it down to low, lidded it and I tried really hard not to stir it too much as those sweets break apart and turn into mush if over stirred. Then right at the end, a little vanilla.

After 5 hours in the oven, the 160 degree mark was hit by the pork and out it came, onto a platter (a very OLD lunch tray--I got from my sister Melly, yes, I STILL have that), wrapped in foil to rest another 20 minutes to allow the juices to redistribute before unwrapping and slicing up.

Meanwhile there were other chores, back to the line, clothes to fold, beds to make, food to serve up, then parcel up for sharing out, and then the clean up. Geez, talk about your dishpan hands. I really should be the next "Madge" for Palmolive, really! As much dish soap as I use over a weekend it's amazing, one sink load after another.

Now, all are fed, Don has gone off to bed. It's not been a good week for him. Baby is just home from work, she was hungry, she liked everything and scarfed down her dinner. The child now has a taste for greens which makes me very happy -- at last!!!

I am grateful for the gift of today. I am able to put my family to sleep on clean bed linens fresh from the line, good food that will last a few days, under a kind shining sky.

The pix of the manual water pump is my neighbor's. He's been fiddling with it for a while, since last fall. He originally had the well driven back in '62, it's been dormant for decades. He had to get parts for it and prime it. It's not a deep well, and around these parts shallow wells give better water, ranging 45-65 feet. This one, as he recalls, is a 52 foot well.

He was so tickled to show it to me on Friday night, I just didn't have my camera with me to run out and snap pix of him pumping it and the water flowing. He was so tickled and I was thrilled with it. I wish I had one. He explained how it worked and what needs to be done with it come cold weather so the water in the pipe doesn't freeze.

The pump is an icon of days gone by, one I admire. Soon I'll catch him back in action with it and get a few pix or video. Our Mister Lewis is a wonder. I'm so glad that he's my neighbor and my friend.

Sundays are bittersweet as there are always things left waiting to do. October Sundays especially so as the weather is too nice not to waste. What is the old saying? "Make hay while the sun shines." Yep, in light of Carey's passing, our loss of him is that reminder to live, enjoy, make it count.

The Reminder That Death Brings -- Loss of a Valued Friend

2011-10-06T18:27:00.002-04:00

Death always catches us up short when we least expect it. It has already been an 'odd' day, I called out from work, something I don't normally do. I was unable to schedule the day off, yet I had an appointment I had to keep. I'm sure I'm in trouble but hopefully it won't be too bad. In the scheme of things, save a firing, in the face of another's death, it's pretty small potatoes.

I lost a friend today. His name was Carey Flynn. I met him at a previous job and worked with him, side by side, for a few years. He was a broad and brawny aging Irishman; a gentle giant with a soft voice, an open heart, and never met a stranger only a friend he was about to meet.

He had a wicked sense of humor and if I worked it right, I tried to make that graying red-head blush at least once a day. He was a gentleman of the old school, downright courtly at times. He took great and loving care of his beloved wife who was disabled.

Carey had traveled the world, met many people through his travel agency work. How he ended up working with me at PhoneCo, I'll never truly sort out. What did happen is that we ended up leaving at the same time as our positions were transferred out of state. He went on to pool all his retirement forces to open a small bar, 707 Sports Bar in West Ocean City, MD. He was SO happy. He had finally created exactly what he wanted in his life, a little place that could just break even and he could enjoy with all his friends, that included everyone who walked through the doors. That was just Carey.

Carey loved sports, all of them, but I think basketball was his special favorite. He enjoyed a good beer and his bar knowledge was extensive. He certainly shared that education and beer with me, introducing me to his favorite Irish beer, Smithwicks as a gift. He sent me home with some one day after work, telling me to try it and let me know what I thought. The man is gifted. Me buys the world's CHEAPEST beer because that's my budget. I'll break my budget this weekend, Smithwick's is a tribute to Carey, well 6 of them.

He had moved on, I had to as well. I ran into him once after we left our mutual employer. Carey looked happy, content, reminded me to come and visit his place. I promised I would. It was a promise I broke because I never got there. Most know I don't go out much and never unless someone is breaking my arm. I surely wish I had now.

Death does catch us up short.

Yesterday Steve Jobs passed on and his passing reverberated around the world with an outpouring of sorrow. His passing was a loss. For me, Carey was just as important for everyone he met, he touched their hearts in his own way. He reminded me so much of the gentleman of days gone by. He treated every woman with the ultimate respect and courtly courtesy even if I'd just whispered the naughtiest joke I'd just heard into his ear. Turning his ears purple was something I took great delight in because he laughed with hearty relish even as he blushed.

Carey was a man who treated me with great respect, wanted my opinions, help, and thanked me. He wasn't a bigoted or sexist man, he was a thoughtful man who continued to learn all his life and appreciated other people always putting others before himself.

I've spent much of today, before I heard the news via FB from another former co-worker, stressed out, wondering, waiting, hoping, and with only a level of good feedback, not exactly what I was hoping for before going through other normal duties when NOT at work, grocery shopping, laundry, checking on Don, ensuring food, liquids, meds...and then opting to actually COOK during the week.

Um, the soup is GONE, so were the red beans and rice. I do NOT know how they ALL disappeared so fast but they did. So I really did need to cook but something good and speedy.

This is the 'food portion' of the blog--there is more after the food stuff.
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I opted to make an Erin Fav...Garlic/Chicken/Tortellini/Alfredo

It works this way:

Ingredients:

1 packet boneless chicken breast (about 1.5 lbs) cut into chunks--seasoned
(Salt/pepper/lemon pepper)
1-8 oz. cream cheese
1-stick salted butter
2-cups milk
6 oz. parmesan cheese
2 1/2 teaspoons granulated garlic
1 teaspoon chicken base
1 1/2 teaspoons tabasco
2-8.8oz bags of Ronzoni garlic/cheese tortellini

Put the water on to boil...boil the tortellini by the instructions 11 minutes, salt that water well.

Meanwhile in the large skillet, a little butter and olive oil (okay, it's NOT on the ingredient list--deal with it), do a quick sear on the chunked chicken breast and remove, set aside.

Once you put the pasta in the boiling water, toss in that stick of butter into a reheated skillet, add the creamed cheese, the chicken base, warm up a bit...add the milk, garlic, parmesan, tabasco, some more pepper, and then whisk well to incorporate, bring to a boil and it will thicken quickly. You don't need it TOO thick, it will continue to thicken. Add the chicken back, turn off the heat. The pasta should be done, drain and toss into the sauce and chicken--give a good stir and let sit for about 5 minutes with the heat off. Serve, it's done.

This is a rich dish and will make about 6 servings. Erin and I will eat this, Don wanted grilled cheese--go figure.

Then I was outside bringing in what laundry had dried, the rest will stay until tomorrow night.

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Meanwhile, the shock of Carey's passing hasn't left me. It won't for a while. I read earlier today about another reminder from another friend, Phil, about the appreciation of a sunset. Another friend, Mary, often posts pix of sunrises, she gets up early to snap them and share them around.

Birth/Death, Sunrise/Sunset, life is slippery. We expect our due, often those who deserve don't get. We are promised nothing in this life. No matter our wealth or poverty, intelligence or ignorance, gifts to mankind or acts of cruelty against it, nothing stays death.

I can worry about my job, I can worry over Don's health, I can worry about Erin getting home safely, I can just WORRY, well, worry is likely my best innate talent, but for what? Worry stops nothing.

I'm no stranger to death after all these years but it never makes it any more pleasant and I don't think I've learned a damn thing yet. The human condition allows only so much. I spent 10 years being really hostile over losing my parents and it never made a bit of difference. I wanted life to be fair. I've raised my child from birth on, "Life isn't fair, get over it," but I still WANTED it to be fair. My kid didn't learn what I wanted to teach her either. She EXPECTS life to be fair. I totally failed in that respect, I couldn't teach her what I don't feel in my heart.

Life isn't. It's not fair, its brevity is cruelly shocking, the only value that death delivers is in it's reminder: don't waste it.

Don't waste your life hoping, dreaming, wishing, and NOT acting. Live your life. Act, do, be, accept nothing less that what you are, who you are, and if others can't or won't, keep right on moving on. They'll catch up later or they won't.

Carey, I will miss you so much. You lived your life without reserve or regrets. My wish and hope is that I can do as well as you did. Meanwhile, I sure hope they catch who murdered you and bring them to justice. I don't want your exit from this world to be glossed over. I do want JUSTICE.

Life isn't fair, I just wish it was because this shouldn't have happened to you.

Rest well my friend, you are loved. You will be missed and mourned. Beverly, I wish you strength and solace. God Bless you.

Seasonal Favorites Return -- Big Vat O'Soup and Wet Cornbread

2011-10-02T17:20:00.002-04:00

Today was amazing because I SLEPT IN. I mean I did. I went from comatose to "I'm AWAKE" at 7:30. It must have been the cooler temperatures. I was up and out of bed, wanting my coffee. Caught the news with two steaming cups and a chat with Don before stripping the beds. It was definitely chilly out, 51 degrees with ugly looking clouds amid the sun, but these were more wind clouds than rain clouds. I was going to chance it.

The chilly breezes felt good to my old self as I hung out the first load. Soon would be the vacuuming and mopping and I couldn't start the soup until that was done. The bad part is that it's been so rainy lately I keep tracking in mud. I hate that.

As it was still cool and damp, despite the breeze, I held out hopes of Autumn-sweetened sheets and blankets to snuggle down into tonight. It's my personal weekly treat. About the only thing better is 'snow-flurried' sheets...not a lot but a little and they dry in the frigid air, there's something incredible that happens and sometimes it lingers more than just that night. Line-dried sheets/blankets are a gift.

It always seems that I'm chasing my tail on the weekends. Okay, so I always feel like I'm chasing my tail. Still, I was running behind, again! Noon was the time to start the soup, it takes a good 4 hours. I finished mopping the floors and hanging out my sheets at 12:45...then put the kitchen back together, I felt like the Mad March Hare, "I'm late! I'm LATE!"

I pulled out the BIG pot. I was going to have to shortcut today, no searing of the meat veges in the dutch oven. Into the 3 or 5 gallon pot (we are still debating) -- 1/2 the beef, of a total of 5 1/2 lbs of stew beef (I couldn't get a chuck roast, they didn't have any at all, and they were supposed to be on sale this week too, but those are the breaks when you shop at 7:30 on a Thursday night.) I did hijack a 1 lb packet of short ribs, no bones. There were no oxtails either, but there were marrow bones, those I snatched up.

A little canola oil in the bottom of the vat, in went half the beef and the short ribs, heavily salted/peppered/granulated garlic, trying to get a bit of a sear on it as I was chopping up the onions, carrots, potatoes, and fresh garlic. I managed to get a little color on the first half and then tossed in the other half and let it sizzle, steam, foam, as I kept working the knife on the veges. I pulled out the frozen bags of string beans, corn, baby limas...each of them 2lb bags. As the meat came closer to ready, in went the onions, the 2 lbs of freshly diced carrots, and about 7 lbs of chopped potatoes (I was lazy, they kept their skins this time).

This was followed by 3 cans of diced tomatoes, 1 can of tomato sauce, all the frozen veges, and then the 5 cloves of freshly chopped garlic. Meanwhile I'm grinding the pepper, adding salt, sugar, soy, tabasco, some Sylvia's seasoning which is a mix of rosemary, marjoram, and other herbs...heavy on the thyme, 3 bay leaves. (Did I leave anything out? Thinking...) Nope, I think that's it, likely some more granulated garlic and some onion powder too.

Then I filled the pot which was already pretty full, with water. Nope, no chicken stock, beef stock, broth, or anything else. The marrow bones will do the job for me along with the short ribs. There is something about short ribs, even if you don't have many which really do the job in this soup, they are a must. I only had 4 little ones, the short ribs, and 3 good marrow bones.

I can hear you now, "Where's the barley?" Um, the barley comes when the soup is FINISHED, do NOT add that before it's done, if not, it'll drop to the bottom of the pot and burn--and I'm not talkin' instant barley, if you use that stuff I might just shoot you. I did buy that once, under duress and it turned into total mush--do NOT buy that. Get simple dried barley, go to another grocery if yours doesn't carry it, mine doesn't. But about once a year I go to Giant and buy them out and put it in air-tight containers.

Now this vat o'soup takes nearly forever to come to a boil, it's a big pot. However once it does, crack the lid, turn down to a good bubble, more than a simmer, but not a full on furious boil either--stir occasionally. It's gotta go until those short ribs start falling apart, then is when you know it's actually done because by then even the stew meat is really tender too.

Taste, check it, you may need salt, pepper, something...always taste it to know. I needed, more salt, a little soy...a few more dashes of tabasco. Then I dumped in about 3 good handfuls of the barley and turned OFF the heat. This stuff is as hot as lava by this time, stir well, slap that lid on and let it sit for 20 minutes, by then, the barley is done.

Meanwhile, the wet cornbread was coming out of the oven.

There is regular cornbread and there is wet cornbread. I never have learned the finesse of the regular cornbread, AKA yellow cornbread or dry cornbread. I grew up on wet cornbread, using white cornmeal, it's a sweet treat and a perfect foil for the soup. Further, the next day, if you have any leftovers, it fries up so nicely on the griddle.

While I know I've posted both the soup recipe and the cornbread recipe before, I'll still list out the cornbread recipe.
---------
Wet Cornbread

Ingredients:

3 cups Indianhead white cornmeal
3 cups boiling water
2 ½ cups whole milk
1 cup sugar
1 teaspoon salt
1 stick butter

3 eggs beaten
2 ½ cups whole milk
Dollop oil (corn/vegetable)

Put cornmeal, salt, sugar into LARGE bowl, stir, make cavity for butter. Preheat oven to 400 degrees (prep 12” x 9” pan with non-stick spray and then drop dollop of corn oil in bottom of pan).

Add boiling water to cornmeal/sugar/salt/butter –stir well to incorporate, then add eggs, stir until the cornmeal mix ‘eats’ all the egg mix…Then stir in the milk, pour into prepared pan, into the oven, set the timer for 1 hour, but depending upon the humidity of the cornmeal at time of cooking, it could be done in 45 minutes, keep checking, you’ll know when it’s done.
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This is kinda a foolproof recipe even though my MIL says it's not. The only real criteria is how once you have the cornmeal, sugar, salt, and stick of butter in the big bowl, and it's a BIG bowl, that when you add each additional ingredient, hot water, eggs, and then milk, that you incorporate each of them well one at a time. Then into the 400 degree oven and set the timer for the 45 minutes, if it's humid it can take longer. You'll know when it's done. Take it out, let it set for 15 minutes before you cut it up and serve.

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It's been a gorgeous day. My friend Mary reminded me with her incredible photos of sunrises all around the area that I need to take a bit more care with my own photos, like pay attention to the settings on my camera that I never really learned. I'm more of a click and go, not recognizing that you really do have to adjust settings and whatnot. I'll never be a photographer but sometimes I get lucky.

There are beautiful things around us all the time. I love living out in the sticks, it's in my blood, likely along with all the chickens, soybeans, and corn on this big old sandbar that I live on. Which is exactly why "surrounded by water, lulled by the tidal pull, I am the Tidewaterbound"

I may not have theaters to attend, the best shops the wander through (not that I could afford them -- me and Walmart are buddies), or any of the other necessities deemed required to be cultured, but I have some of the freshest, sweetest air around that dries my laundry and gives me ease to slumber by. If I want books, music, thank the heavens for the internet--really. People grouse about it but they have no idea what an incredible gift it truly is for what YOU want it to be. From social connections to music, books, news, weather, and just to find out things. I still marvel at this technology that kids now take for granted.

When was it back in the 60's, 70's, 80's, and most of the 90's that you wanted to find out something? You either asked around, went to the library, reviewed whatever paper available. Most anything you want is found on the internet just like the question my kid texted me 25 minutes ago, "How are is Philly from Newark?" Within 4 seconds, 88 miles. Instant answers, I LOVE THAT!

Meanwhile, I'll play with my soup pot, my dutch oven, and feed as many as I can. BIL is here for pick up for Don's family, niece should be by soon, and I'm waiting for Mister Lewis to come home so I can deliver. And I'll be delivering to you tomorrow Kathy, I won't forget.

It's come October, November and NanoWrimo will soon follow. I have to get ready now.

If you don't know about NanoWrimo...well, check it out.

http://www.nanowrimo.org/

Write that Great American Novel, you've got 30 days in November to do it! This will be my 11th year and I can't wait to try again.

Sometimes out of worry and fear, hope still rises.

Welcoming October

2011-10-01T16:53:00.004-04:00

September 22nd heralded the calendar change of seasons into Autumn, yet that didn't really happen until today, the first day of my favorite month of the year, October. I have many reasons that I love October. Primarily, the weather shifts from hot and steamy to cool and breezy with brilliant sunshine (mostly). The foliage changes, the crops have been harvested, as Mother Nature pulls out her paint brush using her most vibrant hues upon the landscape. The air becomes clean and fresh with that nutty scent. I'm not HOT all the time -- that's a blessing in itself. This also usually means an end to yard work, but it also heralds some of the sweetest laundry of the year. Trust me, with laundry, a cycle just doesn't mean a washer setting. Often it is how your laundry is dried. A cool, sweet breeze and a little sunshine make all the difference. It's a nice change from the flash-bake of intense summer or even the freezing winds of winter.

This is also the time of year when the windows open back up to bring in the fresh air. It brings you closer to nature during that brief window between seasons when it's either too hot or too cold outside to open windows. I'm an OPEN WINDOW person.

I've got three days to get what I want done...I'm 'off' on Monday, taking a vacation day. I never seem to take more than two days in a row, just in case.

Last night was a race home after work. Fridays for me are 8-5 so getting off early was a treat and the towering weeds should have dried from our latest rains. The last two weekends have been wet and steamy prompting my grass (weeds) to grow faster than they did from all of April through the beginning of September. The 'back 40' was knee high. Even with the riding mower, the mass was going to choke the mower even on the highest setting and would require at least 3 passes. It was going to be a mess and a few hours. I had to hurry, daylight doesn't last as long now.

Guess what? My neighbor, Mister Lewis, bless him, took matters into his own hands and he mows BIG stuff like his 4 acres in the back on his trusty John Deere, pretty much had to bush-cut the backyard for me before I got home yesterday. Even his John Deere took a beating on that mess. He has grass, I have iccky weeds. He slipped out and didn't come back home until after dark so I couldn't properly thank him until this morning. He can be such a sneaky fella for all his 80+ years.

As it was, it still took me 2 hours on my, well, less than a John Deere quality mower, took to task both side yards and the front with multiple passes. I was racing again time not just against the dark but the cold front that was coming, with it rain and thunderstorms. I made it with a little bit to spare.

Today was about laundry after spending a little morning time with Don. While it was cooler and with a nice breeze, it was damp and overcast on and off. It wasn't the best drying day out there, but the air was sweet, it just took longer--a lot longer than I expected. Five loads of regular laundry, jeans, towels, shirts, and such...then Erin's thick comforter, sheets, and even Mister Easter Bunny got a bath today.

What caught me off-guard was how quickly the time got away from me. Erin had to be at work by 4:30 which means she leaves just after 3:30. Um, it was 12:20 and I hadn't started dinner--Red Beans and Rice, just for her, it's a favorite. I had to clear the decks in the kitchen and start chopping up the celery, bell pepper, onion, garlic, prep the sausage, pull out the smoked ham hocks, rinse the dried beans (there was a reason I didn't soak them overnight, will explain later).

I dug out the dutch oven that was put away in April and washed it up, oiled it down and started heating it up with a pat of butter and some olive oil before plopping in the chopped onion, a large one, along with most of a bunch of celery and then the green bell pepper. (Sorry but .99 for a green bell as opposed to $3.49 for a red one, well, I'm not doing that...) They sizzled up as I chopped down about 5 medium cloves of garlic and the 2 lbs of beans washed up and drained (1 lb red beans, 1 lb red kidney beans).

Once the onions, celery, green pepper were softened with a little salt and pepper, into the pot went the sausage, just over a pound -- no andouille, just some sweet italian, it was in the freezer (Shut up Mark!). Hey, you use what you have. Once the sausage browned up, into the pot went the smoked ham hocks and then the chopped garlic. To that 2 bay leaves, a bunch of thyme, paprika, red pepper flakes, hot sauce, some chicken base, all the beans, and then water enough just to cover. I turned up the heat and cracked the lid on the dutch oven after giving the mass a good stir.

Very quickly the beans sucked up the water, I kept check and kept adding more, but not too much. The end product you want thick and creamy, not runny. Once bubbling well, I turned down the heat to a good simmer and just kept watch, adding water when needed.

Now the explanation over why I didn't 'soak' the beans overnight, when you don't, and you cook them, they mush up better. This is a dish you want more mushy beans than firm. Other than that, I'm an old bean-soaker from way back.

With only minutes to spare, the beans came tender, and that's when you really add the salt because prior to that, they'll remain tough, I don't know why, but it's the law about beans and it's the truth. Don't salt your beans until tender (yes, I did salt the onions and all but not that much). Then I mushed some of the beans making more of a gravy thickening out of the remaining liquid. Also it was time to taste, add a little brown sugar, salt, pepper, more hot sauce, and removed the lid to bubble some more. As the rice steamer dinged that the rice was done, the red beans were too. The hocks removed...food served up so my baby could eat and get ready to go to work.

She didn't leave a scrap either. I'll box it up for her, the leftovers, something she rarely touches. There are three things she will eat as leftovers, one of them is this dish and nobody else will get any. Which is fine because this is HER dish, Don doesn't like it. Tomorrow will be his dish, his favorite, the vegetable beef soup with the wet cornbread. However, this also tends to be a favorite among the family on both sides so there will be take-away from the big vat I'll make tomorrow.

Food Lion had chuck roasts on sale, but they didn't have nary a one when I got there on Thursday night at 7:30...well, did you think they would? However, they DID have stew meat 'on sale' and marrow bones and I did splurge on one packet of short ribs. Making soup tomorrow is a project. It takes every bit of an hour or more just to put together and then to cook down a few more hours but it's likely the one thing I have made over the years that everyone wants. So whether that big pot is 3 gallons or 5 gallons, and I think it's 5 gallons...we'll have a few leftovers but not as much as you'd think.

That and the cornbread...the wet cornbread, Mom's cornbread. If any is leftover, it fries up in a little butter in the cast iron skillet the next day with a few eggs and you are in heaven.

But that recipe will be re-introduced in tomorrow's blog, but it's a repeat. The only difficult ingredient to find in most stores is the barley. (If you buy that 'instant' stuff, I might shoot you.) There is nothing like good barley in a soup. For whatever reason, it's what brings this soup together in a way that is totally different from my mom's. I put barley in mine, she used cabbage...other than that, it's pretty much the same soup but wholly different at the same time.

Don wasn't having a good day so certain things didn't get done. I picked up the clutter but the cleaning will have to wait until tomorrow, hoping he'll be up to the noise then.

I don't know about you but I LOVE this weather. And while the air hasn't quite dried out yet, the cooler temps and the bit of a breeze is so welcome. Jack Frost will be by soon to paint the trees and I can't wait!

Even in the face of scary stuff, enjoy the happy gifts of the weather and a smiling child. It doesn't get better than that.

Classic Sunday Dinner

2011-09-25T17:36:00.002-04:00

It's Sunday and sometimes Sundays are about the classics. Quiet solitude with coffee and a book as the sun continues to hide. When I have a good book I don't want to stop until I've finished it. Such was "Page from a Tennessee Journal" by Francine Thomas Howard, set in 1913 in the bitter tobacco fields. It was riveting, and all for $1.99. Sometimes you can get a stellar book for a cheap price.

Once I was able to stop reading, I realized it was getting late. It's another weekend disappearing nearly as fast as the coffee did. It's also another weekend that outside was just plain iccky, damp, wet, no sun, and a constant threat of rain. Therefore my grass which didn't grow all summer is trying really hard to make up for it. I can hear it growing. Also, no go for laundry on the line. It's the second weekend in a row I have to use the dryer. While most people use the dryer, I just hate it. After a quick run to town and back, it was time to get busy stripping beds and cranking up the washer.

The house is cluttered but all I really had time for was the vacuuming because it's MUDDY out there and I keep tracking in--UGH!

I have something important to mail tomorrow, actually TWO things, to my sister. One when she finds what is IN the pocket of the special bag and what was written on the back of the invoice, I know she'll cry. Further, I've had this item for MONTHS and not yet sent it to her.

The other is an oddity of apparel that I couldn't find a box to fit it in until I light-fingered the box at work that the trash-liners come in. I just didn't have a box! I was going to put a nice little 'note' in the box. I put the rosemary in there but forgot the note until I had taped that box so much that Houdini couldn't have gotten out of it. Sigh, just one of my failings. And no, I wasn't going to open it back up. Melly will understand, sisters do.

There are days when I feel like I'm simply spinning my wheels not getting what I really need done, not that I was pushing it today. Just some laundry and some dinner.

No grilling today. Too iccky. What was ON SALE were some nice fryers. I bought two.

What is the Sunday classic of old? Roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, and a side (for Erin that REQUIRES sweet baby peas, the frozen kind) so she can mix them in her mashed potatoes.

Anything special about this, not really but I didn't put the birds in a roaster either. No roasted potatoes, carrots, or onions either. I wanted CRISPY SKIN on my chicken. So, I cut them up. Using the sharpest knife I have, TSG'S KBAR filet knife, I very carefully cut up the birds. I'm proud to announce, I didn't cut myself. This is always a challenge for me when I'm cutting up birds. And I'm getting to be pretty good at it after decades of buying my chicken already cut up. Trust me, it's much cheaper this way.

My potato-peeler, my daughter, not the utensil, was working elsewhere so I had to peel all the potatoes myself. Drat it, but she's away so much she's gonna lose that knack and I really like it when SHE does it. I did made a LOT of potatoes because they will get eaten over the next few days. The potatoes were peeled, chopped into the required chunks, salted well, and covered with cold water to wait for their proper time to be boiled up.

By that time I was able to get one bed made up, the next load in the dryer, as another waited to finish. I came back to cut up the chickens on the plastic platter keeping hot sudsy water at the ready. You know with raw chicken you really have to be careful. As I was working the chicken into pieces, I cranked up the oven to 425 degrees and pulled out my heavy gauge aluminum trays the chicken would roast on, one of them was Grandmom's made somewhere back in the 1940's and it's still my favorite. It's indestructible and will likely not only outlive me but likely my kid too. (She'd better treasure that thing like I do.)

The chicken parts were seasoned well with kosher salt, freshly ground pepper, some lemon pepper, thyme, fresh rosemary, and a little olive oil--that's it, nothing special. The chicken doesn't need anything fancy, it just needs the basics and HEAT.

Into the oven went the chicken, the potatoes would wait another 45 minutes to start, and the peas, well, frozen baby peas into the pot, a little sugar, salt, pepper, pat o'butter, and water, heat until it whistles (how hard is that?).

Later I turned on the heat for the potatoes, not really mashed, but whipped with sour cream, butter, salt, and pepper. Again, nothing fancy but good ingredients. About 7 pounds of russets, 1 stick of butter, an entire 16 oz. container of sour cream. Once the potatoes are tender, drain well, into the BIG stainless steel KitchenAid base. This many potatoes fill it to just about overflowing, add the butter, sour cream, salt, pepper. Start the paddle mixer on low and slowly increase to medium.

By then I was pulling the trays of chicken out and scraping the drippings into another pot to make the gravy. Just some all purpose flour, salt, pepper, heated up and whisked to cook down the flour, added water, kept whisking. Gravy comes up just fine.

They fell on it so fast I didn't even get to snap a pix of a plate before I delivered the food. Poor Erin, she hadn't eaten all day and she was starved.

The nice part about this meal is while it does take a little bit of prep time, it cooks up pretty quickly overall. The chicken was tender and juicy on the inside and the skin perfectly crispy and seasoned just right. It was just a classic Sunday dinner.

Now I just have to stow away the leftovers and clean it all up.

Hoping your weekend was a good one, restful and without drama. Hey, maybe the sun will come out tomorrow! Enjoy

Milestones come and go

2011-09-18T19:21:00.002-04:00

Today marks 30 years since we wed. It poured that day, it really did. Everything was an enormous snafu. Yet, unlike my sisters, once the day took on the caste of nearly a joke or satire, I just stopped worrying. I relaxed, knew that no matter what ELSE was going to go wrong, by the end of the day, Don and I would be married. We'd end up back home in the little house we had ready and the deed would be done. I just didn't know I'd spend my wedding night cleaning house, there was a big mess made, while my groom watched the "Cannonball Run" on TV. Oh well, it's all kinda worked out.

We've had our ups and downs, our successes and failures. We've been there for each other to pick each other up when the other falters. We've laughed, we've cried, we've fought, and we've loved. After all these years, all too often we know exactly what is about to come out of the other's mouth...sometimes that isn't a good thing. There are times I just can't head'em off at the pass.

However, the best thing we've ever done together was make our Erin. Yes, unlike others who have no children or a passel, I was only geared to raise ONE child. While I spent decades with my other babies, often those who spent from Friday night to Sunday night with me, I could only raise ONE. I was lucky to get her and she was ALL I could handle. Why are nieces easier than your own kid? They loved me, were GREAT for me, anything I asked of them, they did. They didn't argue, they didn't fight, they didn't throw full-body hissy-fits in the middle of a K-Mart....in front of my coworkers when they were 5.n She has lived to see 21, but barely. And she still has, well, MOST of her hair. I didn't snatch her entirely bald-headed. I attribute that to her genetics, not mine, her father's, she has some strong hair follicles.

30 years? Has it really been that long? I've been married longer than I was single, by a LOT. He did all the fixing, repairs, allayed my fears when things broke. I told him what we couldn't afford, paid what bills I could, worked, kept the house and that's how it went until he got sick a few years back.

Life has changed over the last 5 years. Just like Thursday night when I was stranded with the old truck. It was our daughter to came to my rescue and on the way home, as we switched seats and I drove while she made a few calls because I'd need HER vehicle, my old one. I was driving the even older one.

Poor Don, he was sitting at home, worried about the pair of us and unable to help. He could offer suggestions but then, he went to sleep. He does that now, he sleeps a lot. Sometimes with his condition, that's not a bad thing.

So now there are three of us. We muddle through together. We fuss with each other, mostly because we worry about each other. There are embarrassing moments, some are required, some are not, yet we are family. Our Erin is the best of the two of us and will continue to grow and shine. We are grateful.

For the weekend food? I splurged, but 'still on sale' was 3 steaks, $19.69, porterhouses. These are NOT my fav steaks, but they are his. I prepped them in a marinade yesterday, usually only needs an hour for this. But the weather was iccky, rainy, and very chilly. Don was up early, we both were, but not long after I put all the spices in the bags with the steaks, he sank. He wouldn't be eating, if he did, it wouldn't be a steak. So I just kept them in the fridge until today.

Meanwhile, I had also prepared for today, a bigger meal to include BIL, MIL, neighbor and leftovers. 5 lbs of pork loin sliced into a dozen boneless chops. Into a 24 hour brine:

pickling salt -- about a cup
plain granulated sugar -- about a cup
2 tablespoons each of granulated garlic and red pepper flakes
1 cinnamon stick (keep in mind, I buy cheap, Badia you can get 2 big bottles for $4)
1 garlic clove cut in half
1/4 cup, dried minced onion
water to cover...make sure that both the salt and sugar are dissolved. Use a little warm water to start, dissolve both, then the other spices, add ice to chill it all down...THEN add the meat.

Lid well and let go for at least 24 hours.

Remember brining is your friend. It allows you to screw up and forgive you. Your meat of nearly any type will retain it's juiciness and accept the hints of flavor you give it.

(I know I keep preaching this process, but if you haven't tried it, do it! This works for everything save boneless chicken breast which simply cannot accept it save about 2 hours maximum, but everything else can. And chicken breast on the bone, CAN.) So hush up and TRY IT, this is NOT hard. You'll thank me, you will. Thank Alton Brown too when you do. This is the best trick to any meat I've ever learned.

The 'glaze' was begun into a non-stick pot:

1 thick pat of butter
2 cans of jellied cranberry sauce
2 cans of apple pie filling
1 1/2 tablespoons of cinnamon
the zest of one lemon, and the juice
some water (easy on the water..err, I added a little too much today--say about a cup)

Work that down a little to let it all melt together.

Meanwhile make your stuffing. Normally I would make my own, buy the 3 big bags of dried little bread crumbs, butter, onions, celery...spices, all that. Err, they wanted $3 a flippin' BAG. While storebrand 'stovetop' kind was $1.79 a box. My pocketbook speaks to me. I bought 3 boxes, 2 cornbread and 1 pork, prepped it per the box and let it sit.

The chops were drained and dried on a tray with lots of paper towels, then given a very quick sear to give a little color, not cook them all the way.

Then into the big roaster, layered to fill the entire bottom, then the apple/cranberry glaze over the top, and then the stuffing...all into the oven to finish up, crisping the top of the stuffing.

The chops stay juicy, spiced just right with the sweet, the stuffing is a perfect foil. For the side was just some plain succotash, well, corn and string beans, water, sugar, salt, pepper, and a little butter.

I was able to pull out the dinner, Erin arrived home, ate and had to leave again. The fellas ate, I boxed up, caught Mister Lewis, our neighbor, as he pulled back in to take him a few dinners over.

Now just time to clean up, finish the laundry, get ready, tomorrow is Monday. How it comes around so quickly, I just don't know.

But today was pretty cool. The windows were open to catch the cooler breezes, the laundry finished, food was cooked. I think I'm done.

Rest well all.

The Day That Wasn't...

2011-09-17T18:40:00.005-04:00

Okay, the pix posted is what I am sending to my sister. She's moved from mid-coastal Florida after over 20 years to WISCONSIN, like just below GREEN BAY, WISCONSIN. Pardon my caps. I don't care HOW hormonally challenged you are, this is, well, a HUGE climatic change in your life. Can we say it's gonna be COLD there within the next few months? Yep, it will be.

Now last year, Don, and bless him, stuck in his old chair, he gets a LOT of mail, mostly junk, but often some pretty cool catalogs. He's been a catalog fiend since before I married him, trust me, that's longer than lots of folks have been alive.

He's been after me for the last 3 years over this now diminishing vintage collection of boiled wool cloaks, they weigh often over 5 pounds. They are HUGE, dark, and impervious to most of the elements, wind, cold, snow, rain, all of it. These have been listed as Swiss Alpine snow-gear or French Gendarme winter-wear for the worst of the elements.

Um, Don ordered one, a 'small.' Um, I'm not a 'small' anything, physically, emotionally, or vocally. Actually, it could have been large enough but it wasn't. Even for the weight of this apparel, I need elbow-room. This vintage-wear would be so wonderful for a smaller woman. They come in two sizes, #1, #2. Don re-ordered a #2 for me. We still have the #1.

These you cannot return and there are those who I work with who would LOVE to have the smaller one, I cannot part with it but to gift it to someone who will appreciate the vintage and the protection. Melly, my big sis, living in Florida last year, would never need this. However, since moving to Wisconsin, boiled virgin wool, vintage 1962, dark Navy Blue, aside from being a pet hair magnet, it'll be the warmest thing she can find protection in. The wind will not penetrate nor the snow or the rain. While this garb takes a little getting used to, I have to admit, I LOVE mine. I have little doubt that Melly will like this. I've finally found a box I can ship this in, will wrap it up with some fresh rosemary along with other surprises in the box.

I have little doubt when my niece arrives for a visit, she'll abscond with it just like my own hijacks certain special items. This is such a neat thing. It's not like a coat or a wrap, this is definitely protective garb.

(Oh, and it 'swishes' so incredibly well...trust me.)

Now back to reality.

This week, well, it's been one. We survived Erin's adult party, my concerns over my old truck from 09/09 when she died but later started. I posted on FB about it. The general consensus was that it was the battery going bad. I was thinking electrical in some fashion with the 'click-click' but nothing else.

With the dramatic weather change on Thursday afternoon, AUTUMN arrived. Okay, so the calendar says it's September 22nd and we'll still have really warm days on and off through December, it doesn't matter. It changed, everything shifted. I walked out of work about 7:06 PM, the winds were swirling and shifting, the light nearly gone and the temperatures had dropped 25 degrees.

I got 'click-click' not just once but multiple times. No matter how many times I opened the hood, peered inside, whined a little bit, slammed it shut or the truck doors, I still got 'click-click.'

Poop!

I had to call Erin to come and pick me up. Yes, she got lost in the dark, not like it's that terribly hard to find, it is a bit intricate. As we went home, she had me drive to make arrangements for her school and work as I would need her vehicle to get to work the next day. I didn't know what was wrong with dear Old Bessie. She's had issues but mostly kept it together for me these last coupla years when Don stopped driving and Erin began driving MY vehicle which was newer and safer.

I've spent more in the last 12 months in vehicle repairs and tires/brakes/batteries/starters/wheel bearings.... than I have in the last at least 20 years. I HATE getting stranded. I hate getting stranded in the dark, after any repair shop hours, as the winds and the clouds threaten dark portends as I have to call my little one to come and pick me up 30 minutes away, as my mind races to try to figure out what's wrong and how to fix it. I HATE not knowing how to fix vehicles or anything else. My education is sadly lacking.

It's very frustrating. While I could 'guess' what might be wrong, that wasn't certain. And no, I didn't think it was the battery either. I should have had a 'wrr-wrrr' or something. "Click-click" is different. (Quit laughing both of you, Phil and TSG, I know you both know and likely are more than able to fix both. I just am not. I have two left-hands and even hammers and simple screw-drivers are awkward for me. I have other abilities, just not of the mechanical venue.)

Once home, I targeted nearby assistance if it WAS a possible battery issue. Gas is dear, I didn't want to ask someone else in the family to drive for 25-30 minutes to change out a battery that might NOT be the issue.

What I did do was get up just after 5 AM and get myself out the door by 6:30 to head to Pasco. They are a local place that specializes in batteries, starters, all things electrical. They have a GREAT reputation too. Years back, two vehicles back, they showed up at my workplace, jumped my car, followed me to their shop and fixed it all, new battery, alternator, and belt...it was the belt that was the culprit, but it ruined both of the other two. They didn't overcharge and made the repairs quickly. Don't think I forgot them.

Last year we used the local dealership, within a quarter mile of the house. This is a place that had decades of reputation for great service. They were bought out by a larger franchise. My neighbor, Mister Lewis warned me, they weren't the same. After ripping me off twice, I'll never go back. And after the last time, waving the ruined wheel bearing under the service shop manager's nose and a speedy check for $325, I'll still never go back.

I walked into Pasco's doors early, looked Chip in the face and said, "Help me."

Poor Chip, he knew a forlorn old woman when he saw one. He asked very specific questions, looked up his records. Don had purchased a battery, 3 years ago, not 5 like I thought. Chip said the battery 'should be' fine as it was a good battery, yet the battery shouldn't be bad nor what I was describing should be the battery. He didn't want to sell me a battery without checking it out. He gave me a number to call a tow truck service who would be very cheap, would add to their bill.

Let's see, Pittsville Motors charged me $80 for less than 1/4 mile, I can see them from my house. Triple-A towing, 6 miles away and in an awkward spot, $40. You pick who you will call. (Can you say Pittsville Motors, a franchise of "THE FROG" Preston Motors is NOT on my happy list. We won't go into how they could have killed my kid putting $900 worth of brakes/rotors and such when it was the wheel bearing they packed with grease and told her to live with the noise... PepBoys saved her life, literally. Did I mention Ford Pittsville Motors were having a promotion on the brakes? They met their quota. Trust me, I know this. My first job was at a dealership. Never again.)

My plan had been to purchase a battery, get my NIL who works within 1/2 mile to install it for me during his lunch or something. Chip at Pasco just looked at me. He told me he would be glad to sell me another battery but he didn't want me to waste my $$ if that wasn't the cause. Pasco has always treated me right and they didn't overcharge.

The tow truck took Bessie away. We won't get into how he got lost, but he was nice and it wasn't an easy tow for him. I'm grateful.

Within an hour, I had a text from Chip, he took me literally when I told him to text me, not call me because my work IS PHONE, so I can't answer mine. It wasn't the battery, but the starter. (Why am I having flashbacks to last year with the OTHER TRUCK?) What was that, a starter, a battery, another starter, then a phantom, I'm not starting, an $80 tow from the driveway a 1/4 mile and it starts, no issues, has started every time after that?

GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

Okay, I can't afford a new or even a used vehicle. The gas for both of these behemoths should be enough for new little rubber-band beanies, but not yet. I just can't for now.

Was up early today, lots to do. I felt really bad I couldn't go the 20 miles east to visit with Fil and meet another 'new FB' friend in OC. Not only did I have my chores, I had made promises. This weekend is our 30th wedding anniversary.

Erin, our daughter, and paragon of special dates, required that we have something SPECIAL. With all the vehicle issues, I had still promised, and then it is BIKE WEEK which has totally congested every road, highway in the area to make you feel as if you are jammed in the middle of the worst gridlock ever. I LIVE IN THE COUNTRY FOR A REASON...get the HELL OUT OF MY ROAD and my way. (Oops, but I did really mean that.)

I had planned on slipping by Sam's Club to see if there were a coupla steaks I could pick up on the cheap, it's close to work, not much extra gas. Then there were the truck issues. I had driven at lunch time to pay for the repairs knowing if I went all the way home to pick up Erin and get back to Pasco, they would be closed by then. I was right, they were closed. We spent 20 minutes in a rolling gridlock just to get back to town, this gridlock was only a mile long.

By then, Erin needed to get home to her intensive homework, I needed to grocery shop, there wasn't even a slice of bread in the house. We split off and I shopped. Luckily, FL had a SALE on porterhouse/T-bone steaks--if you can call it that. I swiped 3 for $19.69 and still cringed--no leftovers with those. Then I found $11 5.50lb of pork loin that I knew what I would make for Sunday, leftovers and sharing.

Today dawned kinda bright with a 'threat' of showers. With showers, I'm gonna take a chance. I loaded the line early between cups of good coffee. I was on my last container of laundry soap, so I made another bucket early. I'll be able to use that tomorrow and it'll last about 2 months all for the amazing $$ of $2. Did I mention I do a LOT of laundry? Did I mention this stuff is amazing and will take stains out of almost anything? And all this takes is about 20 minutes of your time?

So, I made my laundry 'glop' washed up 4 loads and filled the line about an hour before it began to mist and much of what was on the line was ALMOST dry. Yes, I checked the radar, but I kept the faith. I call myself a realist but I truly am a closet optimist. Should you tell me that to my face, well, I'd call you a liar. Yes, I lie to myself, I do that, it retains my sanity to a degree. (Hush up Kathy, you already know I'm nuts.)

From there I vacuumed like a mad-woman, mopped floors, tried to be as quiet as possible. Don wasn't having a good day. The weather had shifted so dramatically, cool, wet, but not breezy, not yet.

Then came the rain.

Don napped.

I prepped tomorrow's dinner in the brine. The pork loin I sliced up with TSG's gift of the K-Bar filet knife into 3/4" boneless chops. The brine? Salt/sugar/water..an entire head of garlic sliced in half, onions, cumin, cinnamon, red pepper flakes...simple but contrasting flavors that will forgive any errors I make tomorrow. Then I worked up my fav steak marinade...soy, garlic, pepper, olive oil, fresh rosemary into the freezer bags to chill, for Erin's and mine, a few red pepper flakes.

My plans were for a quick salad, roasted potatoes on the grill, wrapped in foil with oil and spices and the steaks, well, grilled.

After my chores were done and before any grilling, it was time to make up the homemade Kahlua. Well, I've been promising it to a few. What I realized was that I was kinda short on the sugar, but I ended up having enough.

This recipe is simple:

8 cups sugar (okay, you can get away with 7 cups, I did this time)
4 cups GOOD coffee (do not stint on this, make it good)

Heat it all up, be careful, simmer, don't boil over.

(This time, toss a cinnamon stick in there, you don't have to)

Let this cool to room temperature.

Then add the vanilla. If you have the real stuff, please use it. (I would but I don't have it, but I did use half a bottle of the fake stuff)

Then 1 bottle of brandy, and whatever it takes to even out 4 cups with Vodka--any brand at all, likely the cheaper the better, gives it a better bite.

There are those who will tell you that you have to steep this, just vodka, sugar, vanilla, and COFFEE grounds for about 30 days, um, no you don't. Furthermore, I don't want to have to filter coffee grounds out. I've previously been gifted with 'homemade Kahlua' made in this fashion. While it was a wonderful gift, it was thin, not what it should be, rich.

This particular recipe with the brandy and already brewed coffee makes for an INSTANT good Kahlua. While it isn't as thick as the brand name, it's as good or better. I've never had anyone not like it. Don't get me wrong, if you don't like this concoction, I'll accept criticism, no worries on that. However, on a 'homemade' venue, this is the best version I've ever encountered which is why I share it out. You can't go wrong with it, mostly it's the brandy that gives it the body it needs.

You can imbibe this right away or allow it to age in a cool dark place for a while. But, I will tell you when I make this, it doesn't linger--this goes quickly.

Erin wanted dinner. I couldn't grill. It was raining. And while I would have eagerly grilled the steaks even in the rain, Don wasn't up to eating today. I wouldn't waste them, marindated or not. They'll wait for tomorrow.

Tonight was a meatless meat for her. A sweet onion worked down in olive oil, butter, salt and pepper, then the diced garlic...a can of petite diced tomatoes, tomato sauces, some mexican corn...then the tri-colored rotini...a little water, lots of thyme, hint of sugar, red pepper flakes...worked up and served up.

She ate, then he wanted some. (He has this trigger for sauteed onions, I dunno)

He ate a little, drank some more of the powdered lemonade, and then went back to bed.

I pulled the laundry off the line in lots, spun it in the washer and into the dryer--Arrgh!

That's been my day/week. Hope yours has been a better one.

I'm looking forward to tomorrow. I've got two dinners to work. I hope I can bring some smiles along with fresh bed linens.

9/11 Anniversary and weekend bits

2011-09-11T19:10:00.007-04:00

It's been a busy weekend with a jumble of events, memories, and emotions.

Two big things happened this weekend. One was the celebration of my daughter's 21st birthday. Her cousins had promised her for years and years, they were taking her OUT. Of course I had to go to DRIVE and snap pix, keep watch and try not to hover too much (which is difficult because I am her Mommy). The second was today, the 10th Anniversary of 9/11. I've never forgotten that day, as most of the rest of America hasn't, or I hope they haven't. I don't just commemorate this day for the date, this event has lived with me for the last ten years. But I'll address that a little later in this post.

Taking your newly adult daughter to a bar is a bit weird. And while I do love my beer, I really haven't been in a bar "bar" for a very long time --outside of several after work gatherings in a restaurant where I get to stay for 45 minutes when someone ELSE has left the company, I kinda discount those. (We don't need to get into just how old I am).

However, there was a time of day, ahem, as the 1970's came to a close, after work I used to go home, primp a little, and go OUT and meet the same folks I usually met many nights. It WAS a bar/restaurant (Pappy's), the bar side had booths, tables, and right at the front an enormous, circular booth--that's where a group of we regulars sat. There would be a shifting number of about 10, save me, they were all guys. I usually paid for one beer and we all sat around and talked. It was a great time, call it safety in numbers. I was as safe as I was in my home, nobody would hurt me or dare to make advances simply because they all watched out for me. And I KNEW these people pretty well, one a neighbor right up the street and should anything happen to me, there would have been hell to pay.

Now should my daughter attempt this behavior, well, not in this day and age, nope, not happening.

Further, it was really strange being in a bar/bar. Okay, they serve food, but this really is a BAR, The Greene Turtle, it's a sports bar. Nice, clean, DARK outside of the 40 TV's they have in there and music blasting at decibels guaranteed to make you deaf by the next day. I had a headache within the first hour. But then, others can take the LOUD music, I never could, not even as a teen. I went to one, ONE local concert growing up, I never went to another. It was simply too loud. I think I was old before my time.

As for Erin's gathering, nearly all who could come did. Erin had fretted, worried, wondered about everything. Me, I'd ordered the ice cream cake (cake at a bar?) from Coldstone Creamery -- "Midnight Delight® Chocolate ice cream and chocolate shavings layered with moist Devil's Food cake and gooey fudge and wrapped in a rich fudge ganache "

If you are gonna have chocolate cake at a bar, make it worth it. Actually, the ganache was killer.

We arrived early, set up a setting of tables for 14...then people began to arrive. Cousins opted NO TABLE, moved it all to the bar where we took up a goodly portion. Erin was a little apprehensive but excited. She's tried a few drinks in advance, she's really not much of a drinker. She was mostly worried that she would get sick.

That didn't happen. I did kinda carb her out with the dinner she requested of the chicken/tortellini/alfredo sauce earlier, then loaded her with a cheese/fry appetizer when we arrived, then with the cake later as she paced with water and Dr. Pepper.

All-in-all, she did me proud. She was happy to see all, visited, didn't leave anyone out, and she wasn't a fool about the drinks. While she wouldn't have been able to drive home, she was only a bit silly, not sick and she slept well and woke up with no regrets. Call it a milestone in her life. She's not a prude but she's also not a wild child. (Me, I just stood around and took pictures -- alas, nothing I can use as blackmail to make her clean the catbox when I want her to.) It was a long night, but a good one. All arrived home safely and my bed was calling me.

As for the chicken/tortellini/alfredo sauce dinner...if you don't mind the calories, it's a wonderfully quick and very RICH dish, easy to make too. Just saute up the chunked, seasoned boneless chicken breast in a little olive oil until 'just done' don't make it like rubber--remove and set aside. Have your water boiling for the tortellini -- buy the Ronzoni tri-color pasta stuffed with cheese and garlic (yes, it's in a dried little bag) 2 lbs of chicken, 2 bags of the tortellini. Salt your boiling water well, boil by the package 11-13 minutes. Time it for your sauce...

The sauce, 8 oz. softened cream cheese, 1 stick salted butter working down in a non-stick skillet. Then add 6 oz. of Parmesan cheese, lots of ground pepper, 1 teaspoon granulated garlic, and milk--that varies, but about 2 cups, you can add more to thin it out. Let it work to thicken with a whisk, add some tabasco, a few shakes. Once the pasta is done, drain well, add into the big skillet of sauce, then the chicken, and then the parsley. Stir to incorporate. It's dinner. Very rich and will fill the tummy.

Last night's dinner was Erin's choice, actually pretty cheap as it worked up servings for 8, so there are leftovers.

Once everyone was home, all went to bed, me with a book for another 45 minutes. I had a really good book I wanted to finish. I wasn't halfway through it yet.

With me, the bad part is when I have a good book, I want to block everything out until I finish it. Sigh...I spent a lot of time today trying to finish it when I should have been doing other things.

I was the first one up this morning in time to put on the coffee, deal with the raging felines that dominant the house until I play the alpha and quash an uprising, seeing to all their basic needs. Then it was coffee, the news, the 'remembrance' of 9/11.

For me, 9/11 has visceral memories, not just shock and sadness, but real fear. It began as a normal workday at VZ, the business office, the call center, and there were literally hundreds of us there -- When Vickie Danner stood up not twenty feet away and began shouting, "A plane has crashed into the World Tower, other planes are not answering radar, the Pentagon..." and you do NOT shout across the floor. I didn't believe her, thought it was a bad joke. She was standing there, crying, said that she could hear it on the tv in the background, that it wasn't a joke, we were under 'attack.'

That brought home what Don always said, we were in the worst place in the nation for an attack, especially if it was nuclear. We were within the triangle--DC to the West, Dover AFB to our North, and the Naval base in Norfolk to our South. All I could think of was my baby, my husband, my family. The alert went out that they were closing schools in the area. It didn't matter, I was leaving, I was getting my child and going home -- she had just turned 11.

The kids in school didn't know anything, all the teachers did, they were watching TV and had shunted the kids to do something else.

I took Erin home, she eagerly went to play her games, oblivious to what was going on as I didn't know how to explain it. Don couldn't leave work no matter how much I bothered him.

Me, I hit the internet and had the TV going. The internet then wasn't nearly as integral to our lives as it is today, but it was ON IT. And then, there were my friends who were there, far away, Dar and Jean. The three of us stayed together online for hours and hours, talking, watching, absorbing the news, trying to absorb the horror that had happened.

Don later said, "They will forget." I told him it wasn't possible. But he WAS right, after the immediate fallout, within 12 months, many had moved on, willfully forgot. Today many who 'forgot' just clicked the channels elsewhere to watch something else. Trust me, they did. Then there are the base of us who will NEVER forget, NEVER forgive, and it's not over.

When Don's DTV receiver died at 1:02PM today, I quietly got up and went to the computer to see if we had connection, the news, and finally FB. This is a date ripe for another attack as the nation is in remembrance. It was FB that really told me all was well, they were talking and posting about football. Then I checked another TV, it was fine. Yes, I should have checked it first, call me paranoid.

Tons I should have been doing today but I didn't. I brought in the last of the laundry, but I didn't do the bills (hate, hate doing that--tomorrow night will be ugly as I have to do them.

Then there was the dinner I promised Don. She gets, He gets -- tonight was about comfort food they both like...and I had a motherload of frozen ground beef, pork, veal that was thawing out that I had gotten on sale, enough to make 3 meatloaves. Two with onions, one without (for Erin), and then the potatoes/stringbeans -- with ONIONS and garlic (Erin never complains about that).

You know meatloaf comes in all types but making a good one isn't actually easy. You'd think it would be, but it's not. My mom made a killer meatloaf every time, but every time it was also different. She liked to play. Now my MIL, she makes likely the BEST meatloaf I've ever had, but I don't make it like that, I don't know how.

I've grabbed bits here and there from all across the web but pretty much settled on this muddled version of my own. Keep in mind I'm going for leftovers here and I share out.

3 lbs ground chuck
2 lbs ground pork
1 lb ground veal
1 3/4 cups oatmeal
1 can petite diced tomatoes (juice included)
2 eggs
1/3 cup Worcestershire sauce
4 LARGE cloves of garlic dices (8 smaller ones)
1 small green bell pepper diced
1 sweet onion, diced
1/2 cup Dijon mustard
3/4 tablespoon of red pepper flakes
2 tablespoons of salt (I think, go to taste)
1 tablespoon freshly ground pepper
1 1/2 tablespoons of Sylvia's seasonings, or you can use any green herbs you like
1 teaspoon onion powder
2 teaspoons paprika
1 teaspoon granulated garlic
(a little hot sauce never hurt anybody, just don't make it obvious)

(I think that's what I put in this one)

The sauce that goes over the loaves--after they have cooked a while...I didn't really measure but about 1 1/2 cups of brown sugar, 2/3 cups of yellow mustard, and 1 1/4 cups of ketchup....play with it, whisk it up and taste it, you'll know when you have it right. It's not too sweet but with a tang, sweet is the overriding flavor.

All mixed up save THE ONIONS, I shaped up one loaf and into the big pan, then added the onions to the rest, mixed those up and formed them as well. Into the oven sans the sauce for about 55 minutes, then I poured the topping sauce of the ketchup, mustard, brown sugar and slapped it back into the oven to keep on working.

Overall time for the 3 meatloaves was nearly 2 hours.

Meanwhile, butter, olive oil, and another large sweet onion with salt, pepper sweated down, then 5 pounds of chunked red potatoes into the large skillet, lidded and turned down to steam as the 2 lb bag of frozen string beans thawed on the counter. I already had another 4 cloves of garlic diced up and waiting. As the potatoes were nearly ready, I removed the lid to let some of the liquid evaporate, seasoned with more salt, pepper, a little more olive oil, let them get a bit of color before adding the string beans, then granulated garlic, more salt, and a hint of sugar, then lidded the mass and turned it down for another 25 minutes, unlidded, let the liquid evaporate again, lots more stirring...yep, more salt.

By then, it was all done...pulled out the meatloaves to rest for 5 minutes as I hunted up more containers, called the guys, well, BIL Garry, I served up Don, took some to Mister Lewis (my neighbor who was sitting out in his swing waiting for his dinner), called Erin, and then portioned it all into boxes for Garry to take home after he had seconds, and then cleaned up.

Last weekend was a holiday weekend, a busy weekend that left me really, really tired. Back to work Tuesday wasn't bad, but as the week progressed, like the moon, it became more and more difficult with angry people. I'm old, I'm cranky, I LOATHE discourteous people who scream, curse you, and demand a response at the same time NOT allowing you to answer them. I'm sorry, New Yorkers, those who I deal with are NASTY. Now I KNOW there have to be nice New Yorkers, I know there are, if not, they would have killed each other off long ago. Just know that my interaction over the last few years has not been pleasant, their word vomit contains all the bile, venom, and anger enough to lay complete waste to any enemy across the globe, and I'm there to HELP them--sighs.

And you cannot blink a professional eye, well, in this case, a professional voice. You do NOT wanna know about hand gestures, I'm all about the fowl, wild fowl or domestic, you won't hear it in my voice.

Guess what tomorrow is?

A FULL MOON. I think I have cramps.

Per the Farmer's Almanac: • Full Corn Moon – September This full moon’s name is attributed to Native Americans because it marked when corn was supposed to be harvested. Most often, the September full moon is actually the Harvest Moon.

Yep, it'll be the 'harvest' of fruits, nuts, freaks -- the squirrels are out in force.

Meanwhile, take a little comfort in today. What could have happened today didn't. Take comfort in the night, rest well. Tomorrow is another day one I hope is joyful.

Labor Day 2011 -- A feast with family

2011-09-05T19:13:00.003-04:00

Lots of pix today, and mostly I had to sneak them. I never did actually give a pix of the birthday girl who will be 21 tomorrow. She was a busy, moving target...and I was manning the grill for a good while so she was out of range. She did the runner thing, but she was also helping out with the little ones. When 2 out of the 5 little kids attending are 3 and under, everyone is busy.

No vids, no shots of the grill, it was hamburgers, you've all seen that before. However it was 11 lbs of hamburgers (Thank you Sam's Club for having a HUGE sale on ground chuck). There was nothing special about them, a little worcestershire sauce, salt, pepper, garlic, and a little bit of other stuff. It's burgers, if you do it right, they have that grilled flavor and stay juicy--but done. Um, I was working them in sets of 6 burgers at a time, good sear on each side, then to the cooler side to finish off.

We only had about 5 lbs of potato salad left. So I opted to make a double lot of mac & cheese using two casserole dishes. I didn't want to do the regular, I wanted better. I kinda hesitate making the cream sauce but it really was easier than dirt.

Two pounds of medium shells boiled up...the sauce, 2 sticks of butter into a BIG pot, 16 tablespoons of all purpose flour (equal ratio, fat to flour to make the roux)...whisk for a few minutes over medium to low heat. Then added the milk (no, I didn't warm the milk, I didn't have time). About a quart of milk...whisk to thicken under that low heat...lots of salt, pepper, onion powder, turn off the heat, add on 16 oz. container of sour cream, continue to whisk...then 6 cups of mild cheddar. Keep stirring it, taste, add what you need, a little dijion mustard (it could have used more). By then, the 2 pounds of medium shells were done, drained and into the cheese sauce, mixed up well. Then split into two casserole dishes with lids, topped with more cheese about 2 cups, with panko and a little dried parsley. Into a 350 degree oven, 40 minutes at 350. We turned off the heat and let it stay warm as I was relaying at the grill.

Earlier in the day it was cake time. My adult nieces, Jamie and Sammi, were die hard strawberry cake lovers. I used to make them every year, heart-shaped layer cake with the strawberry frosting with writing on it for them. Erin did for a long time as well, but also came the request for the chocolate chip sour cream cinnamon cake as the years went by. The strawberry cake is a simple boxed cake, the other cake is a scratch cake and you want this warm even if you have to nuke it for a few seconds to have all those chips go melty-gooey.

While we had the grilled chicken and potato salad yesterday, there didn't seem much in the way of leftovers in the chicken--really, and I grilled so much of it. So I needed to make something different today, went for comfort food, the mac & cheese. It disappeared faster than you could blink.

A good time was had by all, good food, a bunch of little ones running underfoot, laughter, and a lot of joy mixed it. I know I won't be able to do this as often as we used to. It's just how time is. People, family, grow up, grow their own, and move on.

For a holiday weekend, you'd think it would be relaxing, but I'm here to tell ya as much as I've enjoyed this, I'm worn right out.

All the mess is cleaned up, the house is quiet, I'm going to take a nice cool shower and curl up in bed to sleep long and hard before that buzzer goes at at 5:30 tomorrow.

In Remembrance, a bit of Mom, a bit of me

2011-09-04T20:30:00.005-04:00

Today might not be special to a lot of others, but to me it is. Today would have been my mom's 75th birthday. She's been gone for 23 years now. There isn't a day I don't miss her. She was the best friend I ever had, not just a mother/daughter thing. We had fun together and she had a wicked, and I mean WICKED sense of humor (don't make me explain the 'teeth picking with a fork' episode--but that surely pulled my sisters back in rank--you embarrass Mom, she WILL embarrass your butt!) She never stopped learning, growing, embracing life while she was with us on this earth.

I won't just say, 'my mom' -- my mother, my buddy in joy and sorrow, laughter and sheer fun, and too often in tears, her name was Marion W. Caulk (never forget the "W")...she was the most amazing woman I've ever met. I've met LOTS of peoples, men, women, important folk, regular folk, and those who fly beneath everyone else's radar--never snub the beneath the radar, I'm pretty good at that. Among all I've met in my life, the exact span of hers--I've never met another like her.

You can string a length of of superlatives together but they will never measure her worth, value, or the impact she had on those whose lives she graced with her presence. The woman was unique, well before her time and she didn't fret about that either. There were certain societal criteria you met, but the silly stuff, she didn't have time for and wouldn't bat an eye over, looked at you funny if you did.

Often most of us feel that way about our mothers, that's a wonderful sentiment. I'm in the same boat with the masses. Still, Mom was different, she was special, and I miss her dreadfully--every day. What made my mom special, outside of being my mom?

How do you sum up a person: their skills, personality, looks, demeanor, accomplishments? Capturing the magic that was Marion is elusive.

I could tell you that not only did she have a face and charisma that could launch the fabled "thousand ships" but that she also had the commanding presence and organizational skills bar none. Trust me when I say General Patton had NOTHING on this woman. She could draw up her troops within the family and without. There wasn't a kid/teen in the neighborhood who wouldn't do her bidding upon request--anyone within earshot, well, they would be ensnared and willingly do her bidding. Did I say she had the same projection abilities of Ethel Merman? Yes, she did (If you don't know that woman, Google her, she didn't need a microphone. Neither did Marion.)

I could tell you about her drive, her focus, that incredible energy she brought to everything she did. Nothing would stop her. It didn't matter what it was from pulling out the shower doors to the outside onto saw horses to be bleached and scoured to arranging an elite assembly where she worked down to the most minor detail, she was on it. When Marion was on the job, others didn't worry unless they were under her direction, you didn't slack, you did your job. Oh yes, you did your job, she wouldn't accept anything less than perfection.

She used the same focus with my sister's illness when Melly was 12, the cancer. Despite the group of specialists who swore the outcome would be dire, Marion never wavered, not a bit. All her energy went into healing her child. Those specialists never stood a chance, Melly healed. She didn't just heal, she blossomed, and grew into adulthood and continued to bloom, grow, and become just what Mom wanted her to be. Mom, again, would accept nothing less. That was the gift, the very heart of who Marion was, she never gave up on what she wanted. She was a driven woman.

Marion, the competitor? I grew up with cards, lots and lots of cards. Solitaire, double solitaire, Pitch, Gin, Gin Rummy...the list went on. There wasn't a card game my mother didn't know. Further when she played, she didn't play being 'your mother' she played to win. You learned really quick to play your best or you lost. Honestly, this woman 'didn't play'--she was definitely there to win and nagged you to learn. She had little patience for stupidity. She would teach you but you had better learn quickly, the curve was steep--because she wouldn't play with you if you couldn't play well.

I spent a lot of time with my mom, playing games when, well, NOT doing chores. She taught me to question, to think, to look, and to be quick. She had zero tolerance for fools.

Her abilities could span a myriad of topics. Let's just zero in on these few.

She was organized, marshalled her forces within the home, not just Daddy, but we three kids, anything that needed to be done, she was in there and expected the rest of us to tow the line and do it right the first time. If you didn't, well, you might spend the rest of your day making sure it was right...a place I spent a few times. It wasn't fun. Did I mention my mother didn't suffer fools? You only do that a few times before learning not to buck the system and apply yourself accordingly. Laziness wasn't tolerated within my household, yet I really DID give that a good try. Her glare could freeze you at ten paces. It wasn't worth it, you spent a lot more energy trying to get OUT of something rather than just getting it done.

Ahem, I may have mentioned that my mom was a really great cook. Yes, she was. As much as I've touted her abilities, they are an understatement at best. I can list, 3 items in all her years she screwed up...THREE? Salmon loaf/mousse, manos soup, codfish (from a can) cakes...yep, that would be it--okay, sometimes she burned the bacon in the morning. I can't blame her at before 6 AM trying to get breakfast ready for a family of 5 when she hadn't had her first cup of coffee yet and she was in a rush. Remember, Mom was on a strict budget, beef tongue which is now becoming all the 'foodie rage' she did back in the late 60's. If you didn't know what it was, it was really GOOD.

Her breads, cakes, pies, meats, vegetables, all were good. She knew and innately understood all the basics of cooking, the maillard reaction, just the right texture to whip a meringue and to bake it until it wept---just enough. She knew how to make a flaky pie crust, prep 15 gallons of fireman's sauce for the American Legion for the BBQ, bake the best breads, rolls, and I will NEVER, EVER figure out her secret for her oatmeal cookies which were like no other...crisp, sweet, and no amount of brown sugar to white sugar ratio will get me there, well, not yet. They were the most addictive things on the planet. I keep promising myself, "one day, one day, I'll get it right!"

Marion's talents had a broad range. Her very signature was her embrace of knowledge. She wasn't shy about learning things. Most folk tend to get a little stodgy in their views as they age especially 20, 30, 40 years ago...well, back then; not her. Had she lived just a few more years to play in the advent of the home PC, well, the rest of you would have known about her too. She would have been right out there in the forefront. She would have learned the "html" she would have been on BB's, chat rooms, worked every search engine, set up web pages, it would have simply been another avenue for her focus. She would have LOVED IT.

Then,there was her charisma. This was a woman who drew people to her. There are women who draw men. Marion drew all -- men, women, children, she just had that magnet that some special people are born with. All she had to do was smile, the room would light up and all gravitated to her and with reason, she was just so engaging you couldn't ignore her and she would focus on YOU, included you, made you feel special; that's a genetic gift. Had the film industry ever found her, there would have been another star on that walk.

She was gifted in many ways, not the least musically. Both via piano and organ, we had both in the house. She encouraged her children, both Melly and Bets had that tendency and excelled. I WAS gifted with the hands for the piano, all the reach and flexibility sans any talent but a lead foot, zippo abilities. I can't sing, dance, or play any instrument, but I can tell ya in a second if 'it's off.' I can appreciate with a good ear with no ability to perform in any way. When your 3 year-old tells you to stop singing "Mister Moon" driving home in the dark, you know you can't sing even in the shower. Never fear, she still suffered it.

The woman played the best spontaneous jazz I've ever heard. When she was UP, she was UP, and the same when she was down, it was not pretty around the house. She had only a few superstitions, she would not, absolutely NOT play the funeral march. She said every time she did, someone close to her died. The last time she played it that I heard, Uncle George died, she wept for days. It's one of those really odd things that stay with you, I never forgot it. The worst part was we kids had taunted her into playing in, telling her that it was just superstitious, that it was silly. After Uncle George died, nobody ever brought that up again.

Listing things, bits and pieces of the woman will never really tell you who she was, but two minutes in her presence would enlighten you completely. What I can say is there are special people in this world. We've all either met them or seen them, we want to be around them, watch them, be mesmerized by them even with all their ups and downs.

If Mom were still around, and if I was still working close by so I could sneak away at lunch time, she'd have tomato and cucumber sandwiches ready, spiced perfectly with the mayo, the old-fashioned way with a load of salt and pepper. As for Labor Day weekend, we'd be there. She'd have the fireman's chicken prepped and ready, the potato salad to boot; Daddy would have the pool ready for the last swim and the yard mowed. It would be a great time, the house wide open, food for all comers with welcoming arms, family, friends, even strangers -- that's just how my parents were. They were gracious, kind, sweet people.

Today was about my mom. I started before 8 AM stripping beds and running the washer for 6 loads out, in, beds made up, vacuuming, mopping, and then 2 hours working up the 15 pounds of potato salad before I could even start the "Limeade" glaze to work down for grilling the chicken. Me, I do the cooking, prep work, and I grill too.

I made up Mom's potato salad because it was fitting, just on a bigger scale than she ever used to make it. My one claim to fame, I make BIG.

Mom's Potato Salad Recipe:

10 lbs russets, peeled, into two pots, I don't have a single one big enough, water/salt.

One very large vidalia, diced

One entire stalk of celery hearts, chopped

1/2 jar of salad cubes (I cheated, I could dice up baby gerkins but I didn't)

15 hard boiled eggs...okay, I boiled up 18 but somebody ate 3 of them, it wasn't me.--They will fart, very noxiously later--glad SHE sleeps upstairs...LOL

Boiled the potatoes until tender, drained. The eggs, shelled and chunked up with the old fashioned pastry cutter...the kind with the blades. All into the BIG bowl, (yes, I have one that big.)

Into another big bowl, 1 jar and 1/3 of another of mayo, real mayo, no fake stuff.

1/2- 3/4 cup cider vinegar

1/4 - 1/2 cup white sugar

1/2 cup of yellow mustard

2 teaspoons salt

1 or more teaspoons freshly ground pepper

1/2 teaspoon or more of onion powder

1 teaspoon marjoram or more (If you can't get that, Sylvia's Seasoning..it's cheaper)

(mix the dressing well with a spoon)

Pour over the steaming mass of potatoes, eggs, onions, celery, and salad cubes --

Incorporate the dressing carefully, then into the BIG rubbermaid container, then into the fridge to chill down. The dressing is a classic. Many will opt just to glop 'salad dressing' over it, but a true dressing isn't commercial. The mayo (which I can make but won't), mustard and cider vinegar is a classic, what you add from there is up to you.

Taste the dressing, work it to fit you, more salt, pepper, whatever.

That's MOM'S potato salad, just on a much larger scale than she ever made it. She never had leftovers--ever.

For my part, I've spent the last few years figuring out the "limeade or lemonade or orange" glaze for the grilled chicken. Over the first year or two, well, I exploded the burners on my grill. Um, it wasn't pretty.

What I have learned, season the chicken, don't coat it/marinate it...just salt/pepper/lemon pepper--nothing else.

It's the glaze you make to mop the chicken with once you've seared it. If you try it the other way around, you just create a bonfire on your grill, trust me on this.

The glaze...

1 large sweet or red onion, diced

4 BIG cloves of garlic diced (about 3 tablespoons)

Into a pot with a pat of butter and olive oil

Work down the onions, not quite fried but almost caramelized..then toss in the garlic

Warm the garlic, don't fry it

Add a cinnamon stick, a bay leaf, about 2 tablespoons of ground ginger, a tablespoon of red pepper flakes, 1/2 cup of brown sugar...

Then dump in the thawing container of frozen limeade, with 3 refills of water.

Turn up the heat, boil like mad to reduce the mass to about 1/3 of the original.

Then zest those 3 limes, and all their juice into the pot, right at the end, you want the freshness of those limes, don't cook it out at this time.

Turn off the heat to allow to rest, taste it. It may need salt, pepper...something, you'll know.

This is what you'll put into the pot on the grill to cook down further, to thicken.

You sear the chicken, move it to the cooler side...then you coat the chicken with the glaze, keep flipping, keep mopping, it's wonderful. It really is a sweet heat.

So, today was about Mom, all Mom, and a little bit that is me.

My baby, "My Erin" is so my mother. In two days she'll be 21. And maybe in another 5 years she'll come into her own, walk the globe and own her space within it.

I'm hoping to stick around to witness another woman of caliber. Women of such are rare gems, I'm just glad I was raised by one. Let's see if I can raise one like her.

I love you Mom, with all my heart, please hold my hand. I miss you.

Blessed With Loving Angels

2011-09-03T20:18:00.007-04:00

This time last week we were staring down the barrel of Hurricane Irene as she made her slow and destructive way up the coast after making landfall on the outer banks of NC. It it had already been a very long 24 hours leading up to the overnight passing of the storm so close to our shores. We were spared a direct hit. We were lucky.

There are some folks to tend to laugh at me when I tell them I worry about 'the tree.' There's a reason. Often we've been incredibly lucky with what HAS fallen from the tree as the winds whip, snap, shred, pop, crack, bang, boom and then there are thuds, those scary bad thuds. Even summer storms with the sudden, extreme straight line winds (some of those have wrought worse damage), still mostly we've been lucky.

When Gloria blew through back in 1985, we'd been living here a whole three months. I was really young then and didn't ever recall an actual hurricane in memory. However, I was indeed old enough to realize the potential destruction the enormous tree that overhung our old little house could wreak if it chose to, or completely uproot and crush the house.

Hurricane Gloria only ruffled the stateliness of this giant tree, a few branches came down, no big limbs. However it did take out BOTH smaller trees in the front yard, blocking the wrap-around driveway (which we don't have any more), along with nearly all the shingles on an aging roof. If set to music, those shingles flew off dancingly about.

We were lucky, we had to replace the roof along with the heating system, the water/sewage system, insulate the house, replace the kitchen, well, you get the drift. It's been an ongoing upgrade since we moved here, slanty floors and all. It's an old little house. The floors are still slanty. Don't walk heavily in the house, everything shakes.

Since 1985, we've had some major storms, mostly Nor'Easters that have done much worse damage. I think we've had 3 new roof jobs done in that time, the most recent back in 1997--and here I thought it was 1999 or thereabouts. When I really questioned, there was ONE sure way to know...back on the old website, the one I don't update any longer--having reached over the maximum 'freebie' capacity, but it's still there. Two posts peg the renovation date back to the tail-end of 1997. Beacon in Blue and Dance of the LadyBugs tell me it was 1997. My, it's odd how memory does fail us.

The winter of 1996 brought us horrible winter storms, it seemed that every weekend we had a snow storm, 3-4 weeks in a row. Then no snow for years and years, but a few really bad Nor'Easters I wouldn't want to repeat, so strong, our 20 miles inland the salt brought by the winds from the ocean blackened all the leaves on the trees, corroded the phone lines on the poles, it was ugly.

And then, there were just the times the tree shed. It was more like a horrible birth, thing ALIEN, sudden, lightning fast, with a nasty afterbirth. Over the years we ended up adding to an amazing 'stick pile.' Um, which brought about:

http://cjremsburg.tripod.com/Sunday_Night.htm

It is funny how time gets away from you, plays tricks on your memories. I've found it's a good thing to have written, the reminders help...a LOT. Well, at least the recipes in the blog do...

Then came 2003 and Hurricane Isabel. She was an extremely UNWELCOME wedding anniversary gift.

At least we had the little generator we had gone into debt to buy for Y2K. Trust me, I really thought everything was going to shut down then, right up until New Years and nothing happened in Australia--I was asleep before 11PM that night.

For Hurricane Isabel, I was ready, scared, but ready. We lost power, the tree held, well, for about two weeks, then another wind storm and tons of limbs came tumbling down--but no house damage. During Isabel's power outage we shared the power from the little generator between two houses, Mr. Lewis' and ours, mostly just for the lights and the refrigerators, but then, we got our power back in about 24 hours, those across the Bay were lucky to get the power back in 7 days, if not 15 days. Yep, again, we were lucky.

Then the RAINS in the Fall of 2009 were horrid, they never seemed to stop, and then came January 2010...back-to-back legendary snowstorms, and a snowmagedon. From January 30th, February 5th, February 7th, and even February 10th..okay, does that make 4 and not 3? It was a bad time, power outages, Mister Lewis' electric connection to his house not only failed but blew down, and DP&L (pardon me...Delmarva Power) was out at 3 AM up on his roof in the howling snowstorm to get it connected. He'd just come home from major surgery very close to his brain. Again, we were lucky...yep, I was up for that one too. That man on the roof deserved a bonus, a medal, and two weeks off with pay--trust me, he did.

After all those snowstorms, there came an ANGEL, his name is Lee Richardson. A sweet man, a farmer, a man I'd never met before arrived to dig us out, and has in all the storms ever afterward...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zqgsM37mEmE

He's an angel too. He doesn't know me, he doesn't know our circumstances, he just shows up and digs us out with a smile and a wave.

This year when the old a/c died, we had another angel help us. His name is Joe Majors. He's a quiet fella, always there when you need him, never says much but when he does, you can trust all his says. He replaced our system during the worst heat wave we've ever had in all the memory of my years and didn't make much of a profit. He's a kind man and I wish I could pay him more. Yep, Joe is an incredible angel and am thankful to know him, and more blessed that he comes when we have to call him.

Another Angel, Ken Twining, a man who is always around to help with a smile, knows all there is about electricity since Edison. He has connections, offers advice, shows up out of the blue, even to change lightbulbs 20' up that I'm a little scary about and brings the right bulbs that I didn't have. He's there in the middle of the night when things go bad. If he can't fix it, he does know who can help. He's the most amazing man, one I am blessed to call a friend.

Then the Friday night as I came home from work before Hurricane Irene showed up, I pulled out the generator. Err, it hadn't been touched since 2003. It was in bad shape, battery shot. Mister Lewis unscrewed the battery so I could go and get a new one.

Meanwhile, as I was rushing to town for a new battery, another neighbor, also of decades in standing one who we don't hear from often, Danny, came on the run. I brought back a new battery but the carburetor was shot. (Remember, I'm helpless in the face of such issues) Danny called a friend at 8:30 at night, a night before a hurricane was to arrive, called him from 20 miles away to show up and fix it, and I only paid $50. Together, Danny and his mechanic worked on it until just after 10PM and brought it back to me, ready to power our fridge, lights, and Mister Lewis'. As it turned out, we never lost power.

Again, we were lucky.

Then there is my family. After Hurricane Irene plodded her way through, and this time I was afraid. I had reason to be afraid. It was the TREE. This tree was old when we moved here. We've had her 'trimmed' once and the trimmer who did the job some twenty years ago mostly didn't want to. Shade, the tree, isn't your run of the mill tree. She has an attitude. She's not the kind to uproot and just fall over, crashing into the house to destroy it. Nope, she'll send off missiles, 200-300 lb missiles to see if you are paying attention. Yep, I am paying attention, have been for a long time. With the addition that just extended the house more into her damage zone, well, I'm alert.

There is a particular branch on the tree that was overhanging the back porch that I've been fearful of for over two years. (okay there are a lot of them, each weighing hundreds of pounds) but this one has been showing signs of ant damage and if it went it would do damage. Guess what? THAT one didn't come down.

Up in the tallest part of the tree, let's say the winds gave a really hard twist to, four limbs came down from about 30' up--from the roof (you do the calculation--it was UP THERE), two of those limbs pretty much fell vertically punching holes through the roof before falling forward to lay themselves over the peak of the roof in a pretty sheaf of greenery. Again, we were lucky. This could have been worse.

After it was all over, I went out, snapped a bunch of pix and video.

Mister Lewis, he's not just my neighbor of 25 years, but the grandfather to my daughter as life took her genetic ones away from her. He's well into his 80s, he hauled in his son, who is my age, and his adult grandson, and like magic, everything that was on the ground, hundreds and hundreds of pounds of dead-fall from the tree, disappeared. I went to work, it was there. I came home, it was all gone.

Within two days, again I went to work, and then my BIL, Steve White, showed up with Joey, his SIL, and tackled the roof, cutting down and away another 500-600 lbs of limbs, and repaired the horror that had attacked my roof and made it safe again. Angels, both of them. And fearless Joey didn't balk about the other limb that sat threatening the roof, they cleared mostly anything they could reach that could threaten again.

Angels. All of them, angels.

Then Mister Lewis and Co., showed up the next day and made the leavings from the roof disappear as well.

How do you thank Angels?

Mister Lewis, Steve, Joey, Ken, Joe, Lee, Danny..the list just grows.

There is luck and then there are angels. I've been blessed with both. Others are looking out for me and I feel so helpless at times, unable to repay, unable to thank them justly as they should be.

I love them all, am thankful to know them, grateful beyond words as it warms my heart that others do care and come to my rescue.

Honestly, I know my limitations. There are a lot of things I'll try, but for all who know me, I'm REALLY clumsy. My mother didn't call me Calamity Jane without reason -- walls will jump out in front of me, I can fall down simply walking across a room. I am handicapped when faced with a screwdriver (phillips or flat), a hammer, and you think I want to attempt anything to goes "Buzzz" with sharp edges, like a chainsaw? I'm lucky I can drive a vehicle and a mower. (Kitchen utensils are different, shut up, and yes, there are times we have knife episodes, but not as often as it used to be.)

And then there are my "FIRE" issues. Oh, goody! Tomorrow and Monday, I get to play with fire, let's just hope I don't burn up the dinners I've promised...going all Limeade glaze for the grilled chicken tomorrow, and then just PERFECT burgers, about 10 lbs. of good chuck for Monday. Who doesn't love a good cheeseburger? Oh, and there WILL be a motherload of potato salad. (The potato salad will bring runners no matter what else is being cooked -- Thanks Mom, your recipe is da'bomb!)

If nothing else, I can feed'em!

To all my angels, thank you for all the blessings you bestow upon me.

Aftermath of Hurricane Irene 2011

2011-08-28T14:51:00.003-04:00

Hurricane Irene has come and gone leaving in her wake a bit of destruction around here and me well short on sleep. It was an extremely long time from leaving work on Friday night and the generator debacle. From getting up early on Saturday trying to get ready for the storm's arrival that I didn't get to close my eyes until after 3 AM this morning, Sunday morning, when I just gave up. The worst was over and I couldn't even see what had happened. Being up nearly 24 hours I do NOT do well.

There were a lot of loud cracks, snaps, and repeated thuds on the roof late yesterday and into the dark. Even this morning, the tree was still going snap, crackle, pop and NOT in a good morning breakfast cereal way. Finally the rain stopped and the winds began to subside and the sun popped out. All the standing water, the 7+ inches we received was sucked into the ground creating a really good line drying day, which I took advantage of. (There is always something around here to wash)

I snapped lots of pix and shot more windy vids. I really wish I had used my camera more years back, like with Isabel and even when Don was using his camera back when Gloria blew through. I know I'll look back at these a few years from now and the memories will come back.

From yesterday afternoon I paced a lot, worried alot, posted like a fiend on FB, texted, worried about my family and friends. During most of it I worried about the tree. I worried about just how bad would it be and just WHEN we were going to lose power because I knew I couldn't pull out the generator until the rains stopped this morning.

The good news is we never lost power. It flickered a lot, I also prayed a LOT. Speaking of which, those $1.79 Mexican Prayer Candles found in Food Lion might be worth the investment. I lit them early and they burn a very long time. It was just comforting to have them glowing in case it all went dark in a hurry.

The better news is that the damage to the roof and the tree could have been worse, much worse. I don't see any water coming through but I really won't know until the limbs are removed (This is your heads up State Farm, I may not be able to make a damage report until that time comes).

As a distraction to the storm, with dinner eaten and cleaned up, it was brownie time. Amazingly enough, it started a chain reaction with those of us on FB. Others jumped on the brownie making bandwagon -- the cinnamon and cayenne are so good together, that little pan disappeared quickly. The brownie idea is all Ken's fault. He lost power but had fired up his generator and decided to make cookies. I wasn't going to go for cookies because that would take longer, making a few dozen and I didn't want to risk losing power in the middle of that. However, 25 minutes for the oven to bake the brownies, I thought I could risk. Um, those brownies went quick.

Then there was the debate over our 'spider' in the window. Which brought back Isabel, the same kind of spider hung onto the back of the truck cab days prior to Isabel. She went back and forth to work with me and even survived coming home in the worst of Isabel. She was still there the next day, repairing her web and her egg sack was well attached to the side of the truck bed. We named her Charlotte, we weren't too original.

In keeping with this thought, Erin has decided to name this spider, Nellie, after one of Charlotte's children who remained behind to keep Wilbur company after Charlotte passed on. I thought it was fitting. Somehow or other, I'm pretty sure this spider is a descendant of our original Charlotte from long ago.

Then as the night progressed, more and more lost their power usually to flag a last post with that announcement via their cell phones. Continual alerts about tornadoes that had actually touched down, the damage reports, and the locations were more than worrisome. That was downright scary because a lot of those places were close.

I finally gave up online somewhere around 1AM but I couldn't go to bed yet. Erin and I were watching the storm until after 3AM. It seemed finally it was time to sleep, the storm would continue on without us. Besides, Erin poking me and telling me to stop snoring was annoying. I kept on snoring.

I was up by 7 this morning and dragging. Coffee did not seem to help, I just wanted to sleep. The wind and the rain were still roaring but not with its previous intensity. Once the sun came out and dried everything up I took the Flip and the camera and went to survey the damage.

A friend joked with me that I needed to get the chainsaw out. Um, while I can now operate the little generator, I draw the line at chainsaws. Stupid I am not. There would be a very bad accident with that and I value all my own limbs. I'll put out the call for when the family men folk can come by to help get the mess off the roof, maybe next weekend if I'm lucky.

I am very grateful all I love made it through the storm safely.

Now it's time to go make some fried rice with italian sweet sausages. I figured if we were out of power I could make all of this right on the stove top!

Ya'll keep safe out there and get some SLEEP tonight--and don't forget those prayer candles.

Hurricane Irene, Fade Into Darkness

2011-08-27T20:51:00.002-04:00

Normally our potential hurricanes and real hurricanes never seem to arrive around here until sometime in mid-September and even then, close or not, their threat is bad enough. Just think of recent history, those I recall, Gloria 1985, or Isabel 2003. Those are RECENT hurricanes, both in September. Gloria in late September, the 27th, and Isabel, September 18th, 2003. I can't forget that date, it was our wedding anniversary.

I've prepped all I can. I've shopped, no batteries but lots of candles. I was finally able to address the old generator we bought way back in 1999 used ONCE during Isabel powering both houses, mine and my neighbor's for lights and refrigerators only. Well, the generator had sat for years unused and untended. Don isn't able to look at it.

Of course the battery was deader than a stone. Um, there was still a lot of gas in it, that wasn't good. It hadn't been run since 2003. Not only did my elderly neighbor, his son who is MY advanced age, and another neighbor who is also older than me come rushing over to help. I ran to town and got another battery. Danny, our only other neighbor of decades who we don't see much, called out to a friend, a mechanic, who drove from 20 miles away at almost 8 PM on a Friday night with the pending storm to come and fix the carb. on the generator and make it run. I've tucked the generator back into the garage until the storm passes. If we don't have power by mid-morning tomorrow, I'll be pulling the machine up and follow the directions of my electrician, Ken, to turn off the required breakers inside...as long ago Don required we have a transfer switch hooked up to the house for said emergencies. Then I can string several cords over to Mister Lewis to power him up. I've got two full tanks in both pickups I can siphon and one measly little 2 gallon gas can full.

By 10:20 AM I already had things falling out of "THE TREE" not any tree, but an elderly dame who has been more than a bit crotchety in her old age over these last 20 years--She was dubbed "Shade" all those years back (hush up, I name things). When Gloria came through, well, we hadn't lived here but two months.

Gloria took out both trees in the front yard and most of the shingles on the roof. Only just a few little branches fell then. Since that time over the years, Shade has dropped a motherload of not just branches but major limbs. Usually not even from hurricanes, mostly from straight-line winds in the outflow of thunderstorms and mostly within the last 7 of the 26 years we've lived here. Granted, this type of Mother Nature's pruning has helped to lighten the load that Shade carries but she is a wicked tree. Never one meant for climbing, so many kids have shown up and wanted to climb her. Her bark is as bad as her bite. Take it from me, a tree-climbing veteran, there are some trees you don't wanna climb. Never knew one kid, well any of the three who did try that they didn't leave a good amount of skin behind. The old dame doesn't tolerate fools.

I've posted a lot today, mostly as informational and to let my sister, Melly know what was happening as she is so far away. Our other sister lost power hours ago. I'm hoping all is well there, but Bets has Steve and I know he's keeping her safe no matter what.

I am thinking about my other babies tonight, Betsy's babies, well, my babies too...my Jamie and my Sammi. I don't know if they have power or not yet am keeping my prayer candle burning.

Irene is a slow mover. The heavy rains are not good, flooding, but the sustained winds are wreaking havoc and persistence pays not only with humans but in the destructive forces of nature.

It's going to be a long night folks. I'm wishing all stay safe, our damage is minimal and we either keep our power or get it back really soon!

Hurricane Irene, a one hour timeline

2011-08-27T17:20:00.003-04:00

The hour from 4-5 PM this Saturday, August 27th, 2011 has brought Hurricane Irene a little closer but it's still sitting down in NC and for my non-scientific eyes does not to have appeared to have moved hardly at all since this morning.

We are already sustaining damage, downed limbs on the back porch roof. The winds have increased from not happy to downright scary and the worst is hours away. The vid is a one hour timeline from 4PM to 5PM. Our worst will likely be hours later as the lights flicker.

Once the power goes, I still have to wait until tomorrow to even try to hook up the generator.

Prayers to all that the damage isn't too bad for any of us.

Precursor to Hurricane Irene's Arrival

2011-08-27T15:44:00.002-04:00

Just a quick view from 10 AM to before 3 PM....it's not yet 4 PM and things are heading downhill fast. A few more branches down. I need to serve up the food, deliver next door and maybe get more vid.

Yep, it's 08/27/2011 and Hurricane Irene isn't even here yet. She's tracking further west than expected boding ill for Maryland's Eastern Shore.

Ya'll stay safe out there!

More to come...

Brine, Beer, Braise -- Perfect Pork!

2011-08-21T17:28:00.005-04:00

This is how to take 7 pounds of el-cheapo country-style pork ribs and make them perfectly tender and so delicious, well, I didn't even need the glaze or the stuffing, but we'll go through the whole process. That process began yesterday with the brine. Into my big Rubbermaid container (yes, it holds a LOT), went the pickling salt and sugar and some warm water. About 3/4 cup each, then stirred in the warm water to melt, you don't need a LOT of water, just about 1 1/2" in the bottom of the container. I use pickling salt because it will dissolve faster (another cute trick, tip, hint, and very cheap at the grocery). Then I added ice cubes to cool off the water. I broke up a cinnamon stick, I use cheapie Badia brand, sometimes you can get 2 big bottles of them for $4. About 1 tablespoon each of: red pepper flakes, ground nutmeg, ground ginger, and granulated garlic. Then the pork ribs went in, added more water to cover, swirled it all about, slapped on the lid and stuck it into the fridge for 24 hours.

Oh, I LOVE brining, it's the BEST THING EVER! Really, if you haven't tried it, do it. It allows you to make tons of errors later and often things still come out well.

Sunday arrived, it always shows up way too soon and I had plans for today and was again under a weather watch and got my butt in gear early. Only niggling issue was Don wasn't up early, he normally is. I watched the news and enjoyed my coffee to the news until 8 AM and then stripped off my bed and got the washer rolling. I had house chores, vacuuming, mopping, beds, and the promise of a GOOD dinner, plentiful but on the cheap.

Trust me, there's NOTHING like the self-promise of an icy cold shower later to keep you moving. Erin had to be up before 9 to get ready for work, stole her bed linens and the line filled right up. It wasn't looking too good today as it was JUICY outside and the skies just looked threatening on and off. The sun peeked in and out, the winds waxed and waned, restless all day.

Don finally got up at nearly 10 AM and it wasn't a good day for him, just painful. However his brother was coming out to dinner later so he stayed up as long as he could.

Meanwhile, after Erin left for work, I kept filling the lines and then picked up what I could of the clutter, started vacuuming like a mad fiend and then mopped up the floors. I was already running out of time. Once the kitchen floor was mopped, I pulled the pork out of the fridge and set the container in the sink to take the chill off of it as I brought in some of the bed linens and made up my bed, the rest wasn't dry yet.

It was time to address the pork. Drained and patted dry, into a hot skillet to sear with only a short sprinkle of kosher salt, as the brining already gave it salt, and some freshly ground pepper over it all. There were 9 of the country-style ribs, as they finished they went into my two aluminum lasagna pans. Once they finished, one large red onion chopped, went into the skillet to soften, followed about 3 diced cloves of garlic, more salt and pepper. To that went about 1 1/2 cups of cider vinegar to deglaze the skillet AND 1 warm el-cheapo beer (I'm not buying expensive beer to cook with, if I drink it, I'll cook with it--shut UP Mark!). I needed not only volume but flavor. Also into this went about a tablespoon of red pepper flakes. Once it came to a simmer, I split it between the two pans of pork ribs adding to each one bay leaf (never forget them, they are the unsung heroes of your recipes).

Both trays were tightly wrapped in foil and set into a 325 degree oven for 1 hour, then turned up to 350 for another 50 minutes.

Meanwhile I had TWO cans of cranberry sauce, yes the jellied kind, Erin loves that stuff, and ONE can of apple pie filling. Into a pot it went with a thick pat of butter and about 1/2 cup of water to work down with cinnamon and brown sugar too. Also needed stuffing, you have to top this with stuffing. Normally I would have made my own but I cheated really bad, not even stovetop, but store brand, both pork and cornbread, actually 3 boxes, 2 of cornbread, one of pork. Okay, if I had more time, I'd make my own but I didn't have a bit of celery so shut UP ---Mark! (I can just hear his motor running right now.)

I had both the cranberry glaze and stuffing ready to go once the ribs were done. I took the lasagna pans out, removed the meat and drained off all the liquid. The meat fell totally apart so it didn't leave fatty pieces. I rearranged the meat pieces back into the pans, covered with the cranberry apple/glaze, and then topped the mass with the stuffing. Back into the oven they went, uncovered for 25 minutes to crisp up the top of the stuffing.

Meanwhile, the microwave was working like a trojan to thaw out 3 blocks of chopped spinach for my baby's favorite dish, creamed spinach. And for the uninitiated, this is some rich stuff. They have a word for it, decadent. 3 boxes of chopped spinach, 2 8 oz. boxes of creamed cheese, and 1 stick salted butter. More salt, a hint of sugar, sprinkle of kosher salt, freshly ground pepper, and break OUT that nutmeg nut and shave it generously over it all. Don't forget to squeeze all the liquid out of the spinach, then load the glass dish with the rest. This delight is made right in your microwave. Heat well and through, stirring to incorporate, serve and it really is wonderful!

(Yes, Mark, we know you don't eat, what, seafood, yard bird, pork, greens of any kind? Did you have Rickets or Scurvey growing up? Oh, that's right, HOT PEPPERS, like habaneros are a separate food group and you can survive solely on them...sighs.)

The meat alone was tender and flavorful and actually needed nothing else. I'm going to make this again not sure what I'll pair it up with because it doesn't need anything to smother it.

The dessert for today is the bread, it's the challah bread my baby loves so, like a brioche, an egg bread, but with poppy seeds. I bought 2 loaves of bread not 3 days ago and I'm down to 1/2 a loaf. Um, I HAD to make bread. This will disappear so fast it's not funny.

Reminder to self: stop by the store on the way home to get another loaf of bread.

Why is it that I buy bread and it'll go bad, I get yelled at for buying too much. And then, some weeks, I cannot keep bread in the house. I simply cannot win.

The dish was a hit. My BIL, Gary, isn't a picky eater but it was obvious he loved this. When I asked if he wanted some to take home to his mother, he wanted some for himself too.

Don hung on as long as he could for all of us today before he had to lay down, like an hour before dinner was ready. I'll keep food boxed for him, this is a dish he'll eat and love. I had to wake Gary up for dinner, but I did that after I ran a few containers over to Mr. Lewis. The weather has come all rumbly/tumbly and I knew he was waiting. Old Ginger didn't even need to bark. Poor Mister Lewis is quite deaf and I rely on the dog to bark. It's just a damned shame the dog is going deaf too. However I was lucky, Mister Lewis was keeping watch from his kitchen window which faces my back porch. He met me at the door. I dropped off and ran back as thunder rumbled and it spit rain.

It's been doing that for the last little bit. The storms that are forecast are to be ugly. I've boxed up food 'to-go' for my MIL that my BIL will take home to her. I'll box up the rest after Erin comes home from work. I love leftovers!

Normally I'll have two days of leftovers to work through until Wednesday but yesterday's dish was a 'breakfast' prepped before Erin went to work, just a motherload of scrapple and eggs. Um, there is nothing left of that. Scrapple goes around here no matter how much you make.

So the next time you go shopping, don't turn your nose up at tough, fatty, cuts of cheapie meats (and hey, I love country-style pork ribs, it's just making them so that others enjoy them.) Nearly any meat can be made tender and flavorful, it's just the secrets that others tend not to share. The biggest one is the brining, ages old but too many snub it. Embrace your brine, experiment, and learn how to make tough tender which means low, slow, and often a good braise is the best foot soldier in your army. And do NOT forget to sear your meat, caramelization is key, even if you are cooking low and slow. They call it the "maillard reaction" which is browning, it GIVES the flavor you don't get if you dump everything into a pot and stick it in the oven and walk away. Back when I was first married, ahem, a very long time ago, I did that once...it was called 'tough, gray meat with a side of crunchy potatoes' -- it was a very bad night. I cried, really, I cried. BIL Gary was there that night too. He's managed to survive and looks forward to meals here now after 30 years.

It's been a good day. Baby is almost on her way now. I'll feel better once she's home safe. Ya'll have a good week. I have ZIPPO idea what is going to happen tomorrow. I'm sure it'll be an interesting day at work--EEK!

When Plans Go Awry, Thank Your Food Mill!

2011-08-13T16:59:00.003-04:00

And I was SO PROUD of myself last night! I raced home after work, mowed the weeds, and proceeded to fill the clothesline to the max. Every available space was pinned with 5 loads of laundry. You see, I 'knew' what the weather was forecasting for Sunday, stormy, rainy...blah, blah, blah. And well, Sundays are my bed linen days so I opted to get a jump on it. With any luck the regular laundry would be dry before 10 AM and I could roll out everything for three beds and back while making a special dessert and some homemade pizza. I would be totally ahead of the game and finished hanging out the whites just after 10 PM.

Well, that HAD been my plan.

I was up bright and shiny before 7 AM this Saturday morning and it seemed awfully dark out there. I pretended to ignore it and enjoy coffee with Don and watch the news. Don noticed, commented, we watched and were hoping it was only cloud cover that would burn off--I didn't check the radar like I normally would have. I tried not to notice it wasn't getting brighter when I went and stripped two beds and started a load in the washer.

And then the bottom fell out of the sky. It POURED, a rumble or two of thunder. Then it kept on pouring for about 40 minutes before tapering off. I know it's a FULL MOON today and I can be just as testy as the next person during this time but that blew my whole day right there. I had everything planned and pretty much TIMED--I was going to have to use the dryer which I absolutely hate doing not just because of the cost but because I really prefer line-dried everything. Besides, there were things out there that HAD to dry, like my baby's work clothes!

What started out bad stepped up to get worse. I opted to start the dessert after pacing around and watching the radar. Once I diverted to the dessert mode, I was searching for ONE TYPE of jello, knew I had it, I just bought it 3 weeks ago and it disappeared. I mean it's GONE. I tore apart my pantry shelves (which really need sorting out), all my cabinets, everything. Not just once, twice, but three times. I had pretty much worked myself into a frenzy at that time not realizing the clock was ticking.

I was mad about the laundry which was outside totally soaked and even after hand wringing and flapping it back out, and re-pinning it. That laundry was going to take all day to dry, and that's if I was lucky. And now I couldn't find what I needed for the dessert I promised. Baby was still snoozing upstairs and safe. Poor Don, he kept trying to cheer me up and ended up opting to be 'very, very quiet.' After 32 years, he knows when to finally shut UP, bless his little heart.

It was then that I looked at the clock after tossing out-dated stuff into trash bags. And my pantry is STILL over-stuffed. I STILL didn't find that jello either--Ack!

Two orange box cakes went into the oven quickly (and I've got to level the oven again...the floor, well, it's got angles--I swear the house is sinking which it probably is but I can't think about that just now either.) Facing defeat, I changed course going for 'berry' for the glaze and took a box of good old strawberry jello, an entire small box (which is 6 tablespoons), 2 cups of sugar, 6 tablespoons of cornstarch, and 2 cups of water and let that cook up and thicken. Once it thickened up, I turned OFF the heat and I reached for my only bag of frozen 'mixed berries' in the freezer; a mix of strawberries, blueberries, and raspberries and dumped them into the glaze which helped to cool it, gave it a stir and all was good.

As the orange cakes cooled on the racks, I whipped up the 1 block of softened cream cheese, 1 can of sweetened condensed milk, and a 14 ounce tub of cool whip. Once everything was ready, into the giant plastic bowl I layered pieces of the cake, then the glaze, which the cake will soak up, and then the whipped, gooey, rich, custardy stuff. It went all the way to the top. I covered it with both plastic wrap and then foil and into the fridge it went to chill down. The end result was better than what I had originally planned. So THAT worked out well.

By then it was later than I thought and I was still moving with loads of bed linens and that dryer was working non-stop as I grated my teeth.

I had promised PIZZA! I really wanted to try out my pizza stone but with the bungles the day had already delivered and likely my blood pressure running well above what it should be, I was not going to fool around. I needed to get it done.

The pizza dough was already working in the bread machine, a double batch which works up well for a deep-dish...all basic: 1 cup water, 3 teaspoons olive oil, 3 cups all-purpose flour, 2 teaspoons fast-rising yeast, and 1 teaspoon salt. This can go into the machine on the dough setting or you can manually work it down. Sorry, I have a machine, I'm lazy about it and I don't trust ME with that.

It was the PIZZA sauce I wanted to make special and that I was able to do.

Remember when it's summertime and you have FRESH from the garden tomatoes like Mr. Lewis's garden tomatoes, you'd better take advantage of them. I already had two quarts he delivered to me on Thursday...and he left me two more quarts on the back step this morning at 7:30 AM.

I knew I was going to use 2 quarts of the tomatoes to make the pizza sauce, fresh, zesty, sweet, and light. Into the large skillet they went, just sliced up in a drizzle of olive oil with only some kosher salt and freshly ground pepper. While I could have roasted them, I didn't have the time. Besides it was going to work well for me in this application. They cooked quickly rendering all their juices and getting soft. I turned off the heat and let it rest for a few minutes as I went to check the dripping mess outside and then the dryer.

One old-fashioned tool I do not remember my mother having but I know my grandmother did, was a food mill. I've used it a few times but today it really did the job for me. Remember I'm a bit awkward and it takes me a while to build a comfort level with anything mechanical. After the last time, working down fresh tomatoes for the BBQ sauce, and I should have used the smaller screen/grid then, I am now comfy with this mechanical mechanism. It's GREAT for tomatoes.

Just keep in mind for a sauce you do NOT want tomato skins in there. What? Are you going to peel them? Nope, easiest thing in the world. Ladle those tomatoes right into the food mill and start turning the handle...no skins.

Within a few minutes I had all the essence of those very fresh, sweet tomatoes and as they sat I was working down a chopped red onion in olive oil, butter, S&P...then the three big cloves of garlic finely diced went in once the onions were ready--just to warm the garlic, always cook it gently so it doesn't burn--it'll turn bitter on you. Then I dumped in the tomato renderings into the pot along with some italian herbs, more salt, red pepper flakes, a hint of sugar, and let it reduce down to a sauce. I set that burner to furious. I was running out of time because the bread machine was already beeping that the dough was done.

I had washed up the big skillet and set the 2 lbs of sage sausage to work, browning a bit but not allowing it to cook all the way because it would finish in the oven, you don't want to overcook that either.

Once the pizza sauce was ready, I poured it into a small metal mixing bowl and set it into an ice bath to flash cool. Even Michael Symon would have been proud of me for that move because you do NOT pour searingly hot sauce upon raw dough.

The oven was preheating to 375 degrees as both the sauce and sausage cooled down enough to assemble the pizza. I oiled up my lasagna pan, plopped the dough in and fit it to the size of the pan. Trust me, for deep dish, oily dough is a good thing, it rises up just fine.

I put a nice layer of Mozzarella and Parmesan cheeses on the dough, then a layer of the sauce, and then all the sausage, and topped it with more cheese. Into the oven it went for 30 minutes.

It's a classic pizza. It's not fancy or foodie. It doesn't have a gazillion ingredients, just clear, complimenting flavors. If you like pizza, this is a meal and then some. Trust me, you eat this, you'll nap. No, I didn't have peppers or mushrooms to put in there, we just went plain.

The pizza sauce was perfect with it because it wasn't heavy or too rich. The sausage and the cheese are heavy enough, it's the sauce that brought a lightness.

Both the dessert and main course were enough to clog the arteries of a bull elephant. I know this -- SHUT UP! (Hey, tomorrow we will have chicken....)

Thoughts about today? Not happy with the weather, actually I am still pretty PO'd about it but am finally calmer. I know what needs to be done tomorrow and it won't be nearly as frantic as I won't be under the gun for time. While things didn't turn out exactly as I wanted, the food really did deliver in flavor.

Yep, I bomb some dishes so spectacularly I should just pour gasoline on them and let it go. However, today was a good food day. For me, the pizza sauce, not the dessert (which gave me such grief over trying to find ONE little box of jello), made me happy. In such a time constraint, I was really proud of myself for figuring out just HOW to make it happen and get my baby her dinner before 3:30 in the afternoon. And the food mill made it all work. It's one handy gadget and pretty cheap as they go that is a good idea not just for making tomato sauce but for potatoes, baby food, all kinds of things you need to work down and keep skins out of or just make fine.

The food is all done, cleaned up, the beds are made up, save baby's, she'll make up her own later. Tomorrow is about other house chores and making a chicken dinner of some kind. The particulars for that I haven't been worked out yet, but no rush. And we'll have dessert leftovers so they'll be happy!

Last thoughts...again about food or foodie-stuff.

I've spent the last few years learning and re-learning things trying to offer up good dishes to my family on a budget. I've been reading all my cookbooks and now I have a bunch, even a copy of my mother's classic (Thank you Melly for gifting me a copy that was a difficult find--sisters can be so wonderful). I've watched Food Network, The Cooking Channel and watched them devolve like much in the media to 'reality/contests/challenges' and they've simply lost their core focus. What used to be an enjoyable learning tool for me no longer is, just as much of the other media has become -- pap for the masses.

However, why do I have this nagging nausea that keeps signalling "Farenheit 451" as the general populace has become witless sheep? It's not just cooking shows, it's nearly everything.

I have realized that I'm not nor ever will be a 'foodie' by the definition currently in use. Nope, I'm just a regular old woman who likes cooking and tries to make do with what I have to make whatever I'm making edible by my family. The journey of learning will continue with research and attempts including successes and failures.

I'll shut up now, yep, I'm rambling and I don't need to go there. Yep, it's safer to stick with making my laundry soap and cooking food.

See ya'll tomorrow!

Sweltering Sunday, Thank Goodness for a Crockpot

2011-08-07T20:16:00.002-04:00

I know I just made this a short while ago, but honestly it's a dish that Don will ALWAYS eat even if it does taste a little differently every time I make it. The basics are the same, always.

Today's primary issue were the BILLS and not just any bills but the ones including Erin's interest on her college loan, the annual county/state/town property taxes along with paying for her new computer. (Yeah, I've got those funds just hangin' around after June's a/c replacement--Gaaaaa.) Therefore today wasn't a day I was looking forward to.

Oh, I had LOTS of plans, mowing the lawn, the bed linens, dinner, bills...in that order. Um, it rained heavily around 5 AM and everything was soaked, including the white load I had hung out late yesterday after bringing in the weeklies yesterday after working 1/2 day on Saturday. There were lots of things lagging today.

One load of towels went out early to pair up to TRY to dry in the intense humidity. The grass that has finally sprouted and sprinting to be tall was soaking wet--not mowing. No bed linens either--I'd never get them all dry, they will have to suffer until next week because I am NOT using the dryer.

So it came down to a lot of picking up before Don limped off for a long nap and quiet descended on the house as the stew meat soaked up all the good stuff in the freezer bags before I set the crock to work.

When it comes to doing the bills, and this month's bills in particular, I'm wishing for avoidance. When facing the bills gives you stomach cramps, it's not a happy time. I knew I wouldn't address them until I had the crock going, so I addressed the stew meat (on sale), about 4 pounds of it for $13 and makes lots of meals -- about 10 servings along with $3.50 for the two bags of egg noodles. So, about $1.65 per very hearty servings...could make about 13 though...and I'm not adding in the onion or garlic or other stuff but I had them so hush.

For the food:

The beef went into two freezer bags with some LaChoy soy sauce and this was generous, about a tablespoon of granulated garlic, some kosher salt, freshly ground pepper, a little olive oil, and I clipped about 6 good sprigs from the rosemary bush...four of them, rinsed and twisted to release their oils, went into the bags, smooshed around, then allowed to rest for a good hour.

Then a little peanut oil I had leftover went into the skillet to quickly sear the beef in lots and into the waiting crock which I had heating up on high. Once the beef was seared, one large chopped red onion to work down in the same skillet, and then 4 cloves of the garlic, diced pretty fine, and the nearly 'freebie' box of gorgeous mushrooms I got for $1...all went from skillet to crock. A good shake of balsamic vinegar and then a few squirts of Dijon mustard, a few shakes of Tabasco, a bay leaf, and then the last two sprigs of rosemary were stripped down and chopped--all into the crock.

Once the meat was falling apart...making its own liquid, mix up a bunch of corn starch and water...4 cups into that very hot crock -- instant gravy. Taste and add at will anything it needs. Server over egg noodles--store away the rest into containers for leftovers we'll eat along with yesterday's leftovers through at least Wednesday.

I washed up the skillet, the chef's knife, the scooper, and cutting board. It was time to face the bills...okay, I put it off another 25 minutes playing on FB and checking the weather. I'm an excellent procrastinator when I want to be. But then, It was nearing 2:30 and I couldn't put it off any longer. I assembled everything, turned on BCN on ITUNES radio for the comedy I really need, sorted out all my receipts, reconciled the bank statement and began to write out the payments for the big stack of bills.

Listening to the comedy and just doing the work as if it were the job rather than my funds, the process went...well, it does, along with the $$. The lowering headache I woke up with, knowing it was BILL day finally lessened as I reached the end of it all, filling away the statements, printing out envelopes, realizing I only have 2 more stamps left...now I have to get stamps. Ugh!

Yes, I know I can pay bills online but most of these I can't unless I set up an "auto" and I'm never going to give others the control to access my funds until I'm ready to give them. Until you've had to pay overdraft fees for an auto-payment that they tried to take EARLY and then repeatedly, you will never allow it.

I'll pay for the stamps, thank you so much, it's the price I'm willing to pay to keep control. I think my bank will eventually recognize most of those I need to pay, they didn't last year and then, well, they want as much as stamps...so, it's not yet time for me to 'pay online'...and remember with some providers, the one time you pay online, you'll NEVER see another bill in paper (think DTV or VZ)--yes, I did that and it was a HORROR. Me, I want the bill to view, to see, to hold in my hand, to pay and keep paper records because when you've paid and they didn't get it...they want that paper trail.

While today's 'food' isn't spectacular or different (I didn't even take the pix, used one from last year...it looks the same, trust me). However this dish likely tasted a bit different, not as smoky as last time but with more heat, and Don liked it. I managed two meals for him today, just a sandwich earlier and then dinner.

It's been an odd Sunday beginning with bad dreams and tears, worries and fears--all from my daughter. She's growing up and learning the fears in her life are very real and as much as I'd like to shun them away and shelter her, she's not stupid. Of course I told her that everything was fine, everything was okay and we'll be okay.

The reality is what it is. Life is a day-to-day struggle for her father, for me, for her as well. Don and I can deal with what we have to it just frustrates me that Erin has to come to know the uglier side of it all. For now I have staved off her tears and given her all the reassurances I can. It's like trying to stem the tides, but I'll keep at it.

Whew, we've made it through another day. I'm grateful, rest well all.

Dishes from the Pantry with Chicken and cheese

2011-08-06T17:34:00.004-04:00

Working half-days on Saturdays means that it's always a hurry-up dinner. Again, today's dish is for Erin, tomorrow is for Don. Don's not up for dinner tonight so I went ahead and spiced it up for Erin, meaning using my precious single can of diced tomatoes and green chilies. Mostly, this is a pantry dish save the chicken and the cheese. But this didn't mean it has to be without a little spice and flair.

I opted to use the big box of Rigatoni with the scores down the sides that would suck up all the liquids in the sauce I was making. I also opted to cook the pasta in the sauce and there's a lot to be said for doing that when you are going to work it into a casserole (one word Don hates-casserole, I don't know why, I loves me almost every type of casserole, I grew up on them. Well, then, so did he. I guess we just had different experiences with casseroles. My mom could make them so good there weren't ANY leftovers.)

In the 5-quart skillet pan went the diced red onion in butter and olive oil to work down as I diced about 4 cloves of garlic pretty fine, then came the 3 chicken breasts, boneless and skinless which was chopped into chunks and seasoned up with kosher salt, and lemon pepper. After the garlic warmed with the finished onions, they went into a waiting bowl, then a little more olive oil went into the skillet as the chicken was seared as quickly as possible with the addition of a few red pepper flakes, some Sylvia's seasonings, garlic powder, and paprika. The chicken wasn't in the skillet long and was removed to another waiting bowl. Don't overcook chicken breast, it gets iccky.

Back into the skillet went the onions and garlic, then 1 can of diced tomatoes and green chilies, 1 can of tomato sauce, some sugar--quarter cup (shut up), a bay leaf, some hot sauce (not much just a coupla shakes), some more Sylvia seasonings (mix of oregano, rosemary, marjoram...and maybe something else..just good herbs and a great buy at the store $1.99 at Food Lion so keep a bottle of that handy). A little more kosher salt and freshly ground pepper....then about a pound of frozen sweet white corn, then the 1 lb. box of rigatoni. Stir well, eyeball the water you are adding, not too much but enough for the pasta to cook and suck up. Remember you can always add more water, you don't want extra, it'll make its own sauce to finish. Turn up the heat, lid it and bring to a boil, then turn the heat back a little, keep stirring it and keep it lidded. After about 15 minutes the pasta will suck up nearly all the liquid and become 'almost done' which is what you want.

Meanwhile, have your 6 quart casserole with lid pot ready and your oven set to 350 degrees. Once your pasta is ready, turn off the heat to the skillet and add the chicken back in, stir well, remove that bay leaf. Ready the casserole dish with a little non-stick spray, sprinkle the bottom of the dish with cheese and panko, then pour in the chicken/pasta/corn/sauce and then top with a load of mild cheddar and panko...lid it up and into the oven for 30 minutes to finish off.

Chicken with cheese, pasta, and tomatoes can be so bland if you let it be. I might have done that if Don were eating tonight, but since he's not, I filled the bill for Erin just as she prefers it. This way I KNOW she'll eat the leftovers along with me. The dish is spicy enough to bring a blush but not hot enough for actual sweat, filled with flavor you'll keep eating.

Keep that pantry stocked with the basic canned goods and pasta and don't forget to use them. There's nothing worse than the periodic review of your pantry of goods you have to toss. Don't forget to rotate them as well, a definite failing of mine.

Since yesterday, the strangle-hold of the horrid heatwave that began in June relented, likely only for a bit, but it did. For two mornings in a row, the temps were in the 60's, upper 60's but 60's rather than 80's. There's a breeze today, East to Southeast, cooler for the highs, only about 86 degrees which feels COOL now as opposed to the upper 90's and 104's we've been having.

Outside the scents are of a spent summer, more like early September. High Summer is like a visit to an amusement part, wild, hard, frenzied, and even Mother Nature gets tired of the roller-coaster ride.

We actually had some real rain a few days ago and along with it, old Bessie, my truck decided to get the hiccups and NOT want to start for two days in a row coming and going to work. My stress levels went to Defcon 2, it was the dampness. (Okay so lots of times when it's pouring for days or freezing with snow she'll start....) For two days the humidity was at a level you were breathing water it was like trying to inhale through a wet quilt. I'm sure the truck felt the same way, but I HATE being scared to death about it. After a while she got going for me and am hoping we don't have any other repeats in the near future, I rely on the old girl too much for that.

The breeze should have dried the 3 loads I've managed to get out since I've come home, I've the whites to hang out for overnight as soon as I bring in what's out there. Tomorrow will be the bed linens, vacuuming and mopping, well, that's if Don's up to the noise. It's not been a good week and definitely not a good day for him. If I'm really smart, if he gets up in the morning, I'll get his out and in within two hours for his nap.

Shopping this week, trying to keep it short, addressing the bills tomorrow with all the annual property taxes and extras...ugh, for food, the only things on sale...the chicken I bought and beef stew meat--going with what Don will likely eat even though I made it 2 weeks ago, a return visit of the beef tips, gravy, and noodles. Sometimes you just have to do what you can to make him eat. I'm just glad I had the foresight to know what was coming and well, it was on sale.

Have a good one all, spice it up when you can, keep it simple when you can't, and don't overlook your pantry. You stock it so USE it.

Pulled Pork with Screamin' Sauce

2011-08-01T18:43:00.004-04:00

Don wanted the burgers on Saturday, I wanted the fried chicken on Sunday, and well, Erin, she ALWAYS wants pulled pork...and I had to use it soon, so today was the perfect time. For Memorial Day I had found a boston butt at Sam's but it was 16.65 pounds, which means it was really TWO big boston butts. So I used one then, triple-wrapped and froze the other half. Now some nearly 60 days later, I knew I had to use it or let it get freezer burned, you do NOT waste food like that.

Thus the frozen chunk of pork went into a brine 3 days ago..Friday night. The brine consisted of pickling salt, sugar, cross-cut garlic clove heads, cinnamon sticks, red pepper flakes and some liquid smoke. (The kid and niece are badgering the snot out of me for measurements on everything now--Gaaa.)

So if we are talkin' measurements realize we've got 8.3 lbs of boston butt, that's a lot. So for the brine, ensure your container is going to be big enough to fill with your brine to cover the meat. Into this went 1/2 cup pickling salt, 1/2 cup white sugar, 1 tablespoon of liquid smoke, 1 tablespoon of red pepper flakes, 1 cinnamon stick, and two smaller heads of garlic cut cross-wise...and about a teaspoon of cumin. Make sure both salt and sugar are dissolved and everyone into the pool and into the fridge for 3 days.

I was up early this morning and even before I stripped the beds to start the linens, I pulled out the boston butt, drained it and patted it dry with paper towels. It was time to make the rub. 1 cup of brown sugar, 1/2 cup of kosher salt, 3 tablespoons or so of paprika, 1 tablespoon of ground cinnamon, 2 teaspoons of cumin, 1/2 teaspoon of granulated garlic, 1 heaping teaspoon of freshly ground pepper, and 1 teaspoon red pepper flakes....I used the pestle to mix it up and take out any of the brown sugar lumps and rubbed it all over the butt. Then I let it 'rest' for another half hour to warm up a bit.

Then comes the searing. In the 5-quart skillet went a little peanut oil and I seared every side on the butt as I already had the big crock set to HIGH to get hot. Once the meat was seared, into the crock it went. Into the skillet went one very large sweet onion, diced to work down beyond translucent but not quite fried, then 3 large cloves of garlic, diced fine but only to warm a bit. Yes, I salted and peppered the onions when they went in. Once this combo was done, all of the onions, garlic, and pan drippings were poured into the crock over the butt. And there it went for 7 1/2 hours.

Sometime later, it was time to start the BBQ sauce. Erin really liked the last lot I made but it lacked 'body'...so this time I was making it differently. (Hush up, I always make it differently I can't remember everything like the wet cornbread recipe or the vege/beef/barley recipe--that's imprinted on my brain circuits and I can't forget those).

What I do know is that Erin likes her BBQ sauce tangy, spicy, and with some heat--not 5-alarm fire but enough you know it's there. Oh crap, here come the measurements again...Gaaa!

Into the pot to work down...2 tablespoons of olive oil, 1 tablespoon butter...another very large sweet vidalia (about a 1/2 pounder)...liberal kosher salt and fresly ground pepper...work it, work it, down slow...again that neverland between translucent but not yet fried, a little brown around the edges..then tossed in 3 big cloves of diced garlic (would make about 2 1/2 tablespoons, maybe 3).

Once the garlic WARMS, do not burn that, it'll get bitter quick. I added 1 1/2 cups of brown sugar, 1 cup of ketchup, 3 cups of cider vinegar, 1 can (15 oz.) of plain tomato sauce, 3 tablespoons or so of molasses, 1 tablespoon of red pepper flakes, 1 tablespoon of cumin, 1 cinnamon stick, 1 tablespoon of ground cinnamon, 1 teaspoon of ground nutmeg, 2 tablespoons liquid smoke, and 2 tablespoons of hot sauce. (Thinking, thinking, thinking, ...was there anything else I put in there?---yep about 1 tablespoon of soy sauce and another sprinkling of salt) Nope, not even chili powder...LOL

The vinegar alone was enough to clear out your sinuses to start with but it worked down to keep the tang, the tomato sauce gave it the body and then the brown sugar and the healthy dose of tabasco balanced it out. Yes, you have to keep tasting and adding. Initially it was too sweet, tangy, but too sweet, that's when the soy sauce came in, please use LaChoy...I don't care what foodies say, I cannot stand pineapply Kikkoman..I want SALT in my soy, not pineapple. Also the extra salt and then more hot sauce. I could have added mustard but I had enough tang going with the vinegar. Always trust your taste buds and as the old adage goes, you can always add but you can't take away. In this case, I had way too much sweet and worked to augment that.

It made LOTS, nearly a quart of the stuff or more, but who am I to judge? The finished product took a few hours and then to rest as the crock kept on working.

Other chores finished along with a pharmacy run, beds were made, Don slept, we were pretty quiet around here. But the house was filled with good smells.

Finally after 7 1/2 hours, the bone shifted, I knew my 'butt' was cooked! So with the aid of my big BBQ turner the butt was removed, actually in two lots as it fell apart, into my oversized stainless bowl. The mass was covered in foil and allowed to rest for another 30 minutes. The crock was drained of the remaining juices and ready to receive the pork once it was pulled.

I had REPEATED visitations from Erin..."Is it ready? Can I have some? How much longer?" You have to love an eager, hungry child who has been smelling this for hours upon hours.

Back into the crock went the now-pulled pork, along with 3/4 of the sauce, I don't want it to float, just enough to suck it all up. I told her to wait another 20 minutes...it was a long 20 minutes. The result, her palate loved it, liked it better than the last time. I have a feeling with the included heat that she might not like me tomorrow.

This isn't a dish Don will eat. He's still snoozing and likely will prefer either yesterday's leftover chicken or Saturday's warmed over burgers to the pulled pork. He's not having a good day.

Meanwhile, I've got a ton of this stuff...We have leftovers!

My fridge will be stuffed with all good things. Now I'll go back to the FN website and continue to berate them for dumbing-down to their viewership. They spend millions and they've jumped the shark. It's a sad state of affairs. TV totally sucks anymore when a cooking channel can't even serve up a decent cooking show. Julia Child must be rolling in her grave. Sighs....it's about FOOD ya'll buttheads, not about frenzied drama and personalities. Show me da FOOD!

(Rant over)

Ya'll eat well now.

Fried Chicken and Family, a great combination

2011-07-31T20:36:00.003-04:00

There's a reason that chicken is usually the Sunday dinner fare. While there are other, fancier, more expensive meals, the staple of chicken is one usually most families agree on. And me, well, I've had this hankering for fried chicken -- MY fried chicken, with the sour cream/butter mashed potatoes, the sweet tiny peas, and the cream gravy.

I don't care if it's summer and I should be grilling or not. I want fried chicken, spicy with crispy skin and so juicy that it'll run down your arms when you eat it.

This should have been a leisurely day, well, sort of, by my standards which obviously didn't turn out that way. A trip to town with three stops blew my day totally out of the water and once home I was chasing my tail. That's something I hate most of all, too much to do and not enough time. Further, the chicken breasts, both the bone-in and the boneless breast which were part of what I was frying up along with the legs and thighs were NOT thawed enough.

When I fry chicken, I normally fry a LOT of chicken, and for decades I deep fried it. Just lately I'm falling back to the enormous electric skillet, what my mom used to use. While it's not the purist method for frying in cast iron, and I've done that too, it's quicker because I can fry more pieces at a time and use much less oil than deep frying, peanut oil costs the friggin' earth. As a bonus, it's also easier to make the gravy in.

My first chore once I was home wasn't even addressing the load in the washer that missed its rinse cycle, it was the chicken. I was LATE getting it seasoned up, and I usually use all the same stuff but it's never exactly the same.

Just lately I've been HOUNDED over measurements...geez. I'll try to include them, you'll have to figure out for your own proportions. The chicken? Let's see, big pack of thighs there were 10 of those, a pack of 6 legs, three bone-in breasts, and three boneless breasts each cut into thirds. That's a little more than a family of 4 or 6 is going to eat unless you have a family of linebackers. Trust me, I wasn't feeding just the 3 of us here. Sammi, Cory, and their two kids, my neighbor, Mister Lewis, and then, we delivered to Jamie, Joey, and their 3 kids. Um, I had enough.

The seasoning was kosher salt (this is a lot, but you need it, about 4 tablespoons, freshly ground pepper-- 2 tablespoons, 2 teaspoons or so of cinnamon, 1 teaspoon of granulated garlic, 1 teaspoon lemon pepper, 1 teaspoon onion powder, 1/2 teaspoon of celery salt (yes, more salt--chicken eats it), and a few teaspoons of poultry seasoning. This is just to coat the chicken in--wrap it up and let it rest a few hours at least. Before you go to bread it, you want this nearly room temperature so take it out of the fridge well in advance.

Breading...all purpose flour, a little salt, more pepper, about a teaspoon of cumin, some Sylvia's seasonings or marjoram if you can get it--about a tablespoon, 2 tablespoons of paprika, and a little more poultry seasoning. Dredge your chicken, coat it well and put it on a rack with none of the pieces touching for almost 20 minutes before it hits the oil. The breading will adhere better.

Then get whatever you are frying your chicken in hot, 350 degrees. I recommend peanut oil, but vegetable, corn, or canola will do. Ten minutes on each side for the bone-in pieces (legs and thighs), the big breasts you want to give an extra two-three minutes on the last turn so 10 minutes first side, 12-13 on the second side, and the boneless strips, 5 and 5 for each side--less if smaller (this were BIG ones).

While my family loves my chicken, it's the sides that make the dinner. There are the sour cream/butter whipped potatoes and the cream gravy. I love my red potatoes and pay extra for those, they are not for mashed potatoes, you want russets for that. My potato peeler was again, at work, when I wanted her. I peeled up seven pounds of potatoes, chopped into uniform size and into the cold and well salted water. Once tender and drained, into the big Kitchen-Aid mixer with the paddle attachment. Into the vat went 1 container of sour cream (16 oz.), 1 stick of butter, lots of salt and pepper...and let it rip, slow on start and then to medium. The bowl on the mixer is also a good serving vessel. Once done, remove from the mixer and put a plate over the top. The whipped potatoes will stay hot for a goodish while.

Once the chicken was done we had to drain off 90% of the oil trying to preserve all the crunchy bits. It was time to make the gravy. Sammi has long been after me about this particular gravy, it's her most favorite and really the only gravy I learned to make long ago on my own. I still have never mastered how Mom made hers.

Beginning with a basic roue, sprinkling in all purpose flour over the pan drippings, a little bit at a time remembering you can always add but you can't take away, allowing the drippings to 'eat' the flour. Turning up the heat and whisking it slowly as the flour disappeared. I kept on adding more flour until I had enough and let it bubble along to cook the flour, then adding soy sauce (yes, LaChoy--I don't want any pineappley stuff in my gravy), and then finally the milk...again, bits at a time continuing to whisk it along.

Sammi really put me on the spot. While I've shown her this many times, and I've bombed it a few being in a rush NOT remembering the 1.1 ratio of fat to flour just dumping and stirring, she decided she was going to video the entire thing on her phone so she could refer to it. Talk about pressure, I didn't dare screw it up. The reminder of tasting to ensure if you needed something else, pepper, spice, something and to get that smooth and very thick cream gravy to come out right. Well, I was lucky and slowed down to do it right. That video has got to be so awful, but the technique and all the information is there. I hope it helps.

As I didn't start frying chicken until really late, normally I start at about 2-3 PM, I didn't even get the oil hot until 4:30, I was running very late. On the third round of chicken, we got the hailing from Jamie that the meat she bought yesterday from Wal*Mart was 'bad' and she didn't have dinner and would I have any leftovers...well, of course I would. Jamie knows this.

Once all here were fed, dinner delivered to Mister Lewis, I packed up the rest and took it over to Jamie. Both families know tomorrow will be pulled pork. I think I'll have takers on that too.

Tomorrow I have PROMISED myself, my only commitments are my bed linens and that pulled pork. The rest of the day I'll be farting around on FB and/or ripping out the guts of last year's NanoWrimo for a rewrite and edit, well, at least a start to it anyway.

I've got two days off, Monday and Tuesday and I want to be able to enjoy them at my leisure. I have no doubt they will disappear on me all too quickly.

Feeding people makes me happy, especially when they like what I'm cooking.

Sunday Fried Chicken sometimes is just the ticket. Rest well everyone, tomorrow is almost here!

Burgers and Dogs -- A Grilling Classic

2011-07-30T19:41:00.004-04:00

Heads up to all -- The Spider Pix is for Jamie...The spider is still there, trust me Jamie, she won't come and bother you.

It's Saturday and a grilling night, now that it's ONLY 93 degrees out there and with a soft, easterly breeze, not 105 with a heat index of 122. Am I being repetitious with burgers? Okay, so maybe I am, it's within my budget so HUSH UP. However, over time, I'm learning thus I'm sharing with you as well. Call it a growth spurt, shared knowledge is a good thing.

What have I learned? Three important things when grilling burgers. #1, get good meat. By that I mean CHUCK, it's 80/20 and you want that meat to fat ratio and the best of beef in flavor. Only buy it on sale and grill accordingly, if you can't grill, stick it in the freezer until you do, double wrap it and don't wait too long to use it. #2, give that burger some flavor, it's a canvas, you want to taste the burger but you want to give it a bit of lift/life to go along with that good grilling seared flavor.

So for the 4.5 lbs of ground chuck that was on sale for just over $10, I paid attention. I worked down a very LARGE sweet onion in a little butter and olive oil, salt, pepper, it made its own sweetness. It was allowed to cool until I was ready to mix up the ground chuck into patties. (Never overwork your burger, it gets tough, use a gentle hand to incorporate your seasonings)

To this lot of burger, a good tablespoon of kosher salt or more depending upon your palate, the same or a little more of worcestershire sauce, two tablespoons of southwestern spicy mustard, 1 1/2 teaspoons of tabasco, and a good teaspoon of cumin and freshly ground pepper. Thinking, thinking, did I put anything else in there? Oh, yes, I did, about a teaspoon or maybe a little more of granulated garlic (fresh garlic in the burger would burn and get bitter).

I worked them into patties, layered between waxed paper (always keep that stuff around, it's wonderful) into one of my lasagna pans because it has a lid. The burger made up 14 burgers, and don't forget to make a small depression in the center of each burger. Also, be sure to allow your burger to warm up to nearly room temperature. If you slap icy-cold meat onto a hot grill, it'll seize up and it won't taste good. Don't be afraid, it won't go bad, just pull it out of the fridge a good hour or so before you mix in the seasonings and heat that grill.

Once everything was ready, I let the burgers rest for another 20 minutes as I washed up the outside of the grill and worked on the grates some more with the wire brush. The grill is beginning to show her age, the next time I grill I think I'm gonna need new mesh beneath the ceramic stone, with another good vacuuming of detritus.

Oh, and if you are grilling alone, prep for everything. Have your receiving pot ready, the water spray (and try NOT to use it, have learned to mostly forego that), all your utensils, actually anything at all you MIGHT need because you do NOT want to walk away while grilling. With smoking, you can leave, not long, but you can. Grilling requires your entire attention because it is quick and you have to watch it.

When grilling, doesn't matter if it's charcoal or gas, you have to have zones, the really hot and the cooler zone. I'm not a purist. I wish I could afford to be, but I'm going with gas and the grill is altered enough to give me the actual heat I need amplified by the ceramic stones to give nearly the same result as charcoal. But learning how to work that setup has been a very LONG road indeed. Sometimes I'm a slow learner. At this point, I don't think I could work a regular grill of either type, I'm working a hybrid. Don was right on this, dead on, those ceramic stones create a white-hot heat and store it for your 'cool' side that you have turned off after getting it hot, that will finish the work after a good sear for you.

Get that temperature up, the gauge showed 430 degrees and rising, the grill itself was about 575 degrees and soaring upward. Some gauges you can't trust, it's because we've altered it. Trust me, I've exploded burners...I know.

On this kind of heat, you only need a few minutes a side, and the flames DO come, don't be afraid. That kiss of fire is what you want, but just a little on each side. Close that lid, keep close watch, and then move them over to the cool side to finish, then remove to rest.

The hot-dogs, well they don't require direct heat, that upper rack on your grill is all they need and keep them moving. Toss them on frozen and they finish up quick. Dogs are great things when grilled well, even when eaten cold. It's the burgers that require a little finesse. They can be anemic or burnt. I've burned a LOT of hamburgers over the last few years, not any more. Now they come out juicy and just flat out GREAT. These burgers are even good when heated up in the microwave later. Don's been very patient as I've had to learn on my own.

Grilling burgers should be easy and with a great result every time. Often that's not the case, and not even for me, many just end up burnt. What I have learned over the last 3 years is a healthy respect for the men I have known who KNEW how to grill, not just burgers and dogs, but chicken and all the rest. Don't fear the flame, respect it, and USE IT to your advantage. (One major hint, do not put anything with sugar on an open flame of any kind, you are asking for a major fire...)

Which is why all good grillers have 'runners' which, alas, I never have. So, if you don't have runners, go to your grill prepared for anything and everything. About the only thing I miss is music at the grill, well and some company, sometimes Erin is there with me, mostly not though. Others party at the grill, mine is usually a lonesome deal, so no music. Just me and the little Flip. Me and my Flip are buddies and hope it lasts a long time. Me and the grill we do the job, then we share out.

Just consider this information the next time you grill, it's your thought for the day...and you get a BONUS for all those line-dryers out there. When you need to WHITEN your cottons, you don't need bleach, use that white vinegar in the rinse cycle, a healthy dose and let the hot sun do the job for you. You will be amazed by the results.

Tomorrow is all about the FRIED CHICKEN...sour cream mashed potatoes, cream gravy....etc.

Stormy Sunday and Smoky Crockpot Beef

2011-07-24T18:54:00.003-04:00

It's been a BRUTAL heat wave. Both my MIL and my neighbor, Mr. Lewis, now 80, do NOT recall brutal summer heat as this has been, or like last year too. Other places get this kind of heat, not here, not 'The Shore' simply because for most severe weather, unless we are getting a direct hit from a hurricane, or a "Snowmagedon" riding up the coast that they always predict which might happen about twice a century (okay, maybe more than once over these last coupla years). Even the worst of the bad weather fronts are normally blunted by the mountains and then the Bay (Chesapeake) by the time they reach us.

The high pressure system that's been in place over the last week had heat indices well above 115-120 degrees and the humidity was akin to breathing in a dripping sock, Ugh! One day last week a storm rolled through at work, and it rolled right out too. It poured for about 20 minutes and everything steamed, just like those vegetable packets you put in the microwave and the mercury shot right back up into the high 90's, like 98 degrees at 6 PM, a low of 89 that night. A LOW? Are you kidding me?

I've been around for, ahem, just over a half a century. I know as a child you don't remember much, not about temperatures, weather, heat or cold, unless it's a major event, there were a few of those, one hurricane, two really bad snow events, but that's about it up until the blizzard of '79 and I was 18 by then. What KIDS remember is praying for snow so no school. That so rarely happened. I won't say it didn't get cold, it did, it just didn't seem to snow when it got cold, go figure.

I grew up in a house that didn't have air conditioning save Mom and Dad's bedroom that had a window unit and when it was really, really bad, we kids camped out on the floor in their bedroom at night, but that was a rare occurrence. Mostly, Daddy had the big fan in the window of the basement running and he managed to pull a breeze through all the bedroom windows for us kids, and we were told, 'be still' and that we would cool off. We did and we slept just fine.

At my age, I don't know what I'd do without air conditioning. Okay, well, I do, spent a few days without it in JUNE during an earlier heat wave. I spent most of that in the shower, as cold as it would go. It's no wonder the water bill went up. I was in there so much I don't think I actually dried off for about four days.

Still, I knew something was up this morning, not just hopes and wishes, as I went to the line with the first load of laundry just after 8 AM, the birds were quiet. The insects were buzzing around, but the birds were quiet. The sun was brilliant and HOT even that early. I filled the line twice and was pulling off the summer weight sheet blankets and bedspreads quickly and then loading it back with the sheets and remaining towels from yesterday and this morning. By 11 AM, even the insects were getting quiet save a few cicadas but they are dumber than rocks. I knew my time was short even though the sun was still shining at it was 98 degrees and rising, baking everything I put on the line quickly.

Meanwhile, my beef stew meat, you know the kind you get on sale that nobody wants, that I buy? I had it in freezer bags doused with granulated garlic, clippings of fresh rosemary from my bush outside, soy, freshly ground pepper, and a little olive oil (best beef marinade ever--really, beef of any kind loves this stuff drinks it in like an old sot). Then into a hot skillet in batches, it was quickly seared and plopped into the waiting hot crockpot. Just as I neared the next to the last lot of beef to sear, with the chopped onions and garlic at the ready, it got dark outside.

(Can you say it was an "Oh CRAP moment...come on, come on, give me 10 minutes, don't rain....!")

For that BRIEF window of time, I hadn't been watching the radar, and while I only had towels and the sheets out, the heavy stuff was already back in--it got DARK, and then a brief shower, a heavy shower--as I stood there at the stove searing beef--ACCK!. My choices were: I could turn off the skillet and run outside or let it go. The windows were cracked in both vehicles.

I could just wait it out as I heard thunder rumbling. Cursing under my breath, I turned down the heat on the skillet to low, ran out with both sets of keys and put up the windows, then raced with the basket to the clothesline (trust me, you don't want to see this old lady hoss the mail train, it's not pretty -- by the time I got there, the sheets were not soaked but definitely damp and it was still coming down hard.) I yanked them off the line and back inside hoping the shower was brief and that I'd have a window to re-hang them to dry, trust me, I am NOT USING THE DRYER.

Out of breath and hot, I didn't even pause at the bathroom sink, also utility room for a cool cloth, I had to run back to the kitchen to move the meat, set up the the next batch. For the next 20 minutes it showered as I finished searing beef and then the sun came back with a vengeance, bright, hot, and with a restless breeze. I knew my time was short. All the beef was seared and into the pot, into the skillet went the chopped sweet onion, about a pound of it, I turned it down on low and grabbed the laundry basket and re-hung both sets of sheets, I only needed about 25 minutes of that bakingly hot dry breeze and I could bring them back in. My wish was granted and even though I quickly hung them I had to race BACK into the house, nobody was watching my ONIONS!

Luckily, I was in time, not burnt but just about perfect, another swirl around the skillet and all went into the crock along with all the drippings, then plopped in the freshly chopped garlic that had rested the minimum of 20 minutes, a good squeeze of dijion mustard, a good shot of liquid smoke, the same for balsamic vinegar, the finely chopped fresh rosemary, and a few bay leaves. The crock was working on high and I kicked myself because I really had needed to start this at least an hour earlier. I keep telling myself that it needs 4 1/2 hot hours to work, it's the prep time than I always forget about, the searing of the meat and the onions. Okay, I was LATE with it, dinner ready by 6, not 4:30.

Crap, you guys want measurements..marinade for 4 pounds of stew meat...4 tablespoons soy (La Choy...not the other pineappley stuff--ugh), 3 teaspoons granulated garlic, teaspoon of kosher salt, about 2 teaspoons of freshly grated pepper, healthy tablespoon or so of olive oil...do you think I measure this stuff, it's all eyeball. Three good sprigs of fresh rosemary, rinsed off and given a good twist to release the oils. Put it in the freezer bag and give it a good squish and let it sit on the counter to warm for a bit to bring to room temperature.

Another few sprigs of rosemary, stripped down and chopped, use it quickly, it'll turn on you...don't chop it up long before you use it, into the crock right after the beef goes in. I had 4 marrow bones in the bottom of the crock heating up. Remember, beef stew meat doesn't have much fat or flavor, you have to GIVE it that, which is what the marrow bones will do for you. Once the beef was seared and into the pot, the onions browned in the skillet, all of that went in, the diced garlic was sprinkled over it, then the dijion mustard, the balsamic vinegar, the bay leaves, about a teaspoon of sugar or a little more (shut up about that, it goes in there) then the liquid smoke and about a cup of water. Let it GO and work down.

This isn't fancy, it's not spicy hot, but it comes out rich, deep in flavor. At the end, once the meat is very tender, there is lots of liquid in there. Stir up 3 tablespoons of cornstarch and mix up into 2 cups of water...stir up into that hot meat mix -- you have instant 'AHHH' really, it works out well every time, this is a NO MISS wonderful dish. With the bit of liquid smoke, you get a richness that surpasses the spike of the rosemary, just another level of flavor.

AND it's CHEAP! I ended up with more meat than the bag of egg noodles could deal with, as the pasta pot still had hot, salted water, I boiled up some macaroni...I've got lots of containers with both. Mister Lewis, our neighbor came over with both watermelon and cantaloupe for me...I sent him home with both goulash and beef/gravy over noodles. Bless him, I knew he was hoping for them. I just wish I could cook for him every day.

Later as the crock was working, the storm finally arrived. My camera is good, but I love my old Flip, what I did figure out is that it won't record actual lightning. There were three vids and it didn't capture it, the one I snagged for a pix above, well, you can see, it just doesn't do it.

The next to last vid, it was minutes prior to an ear splitting, SHATTERING crash of thunder as lightning struck. Erin was with me just off the porch on the back steps. Her screams were nearly as loud as the thunder, we rushed inside. (Shut up, I know I wasn't supposed to be out there) We came inside as I was madly unplugging DSL line and power to computers as fast as I could get them down. Then all hell broke loose outside for a bit as I paced waiting for it to pass. The rain filled the screens on the porch and wouldn't make any vid at all so I just paced about checking food until it finally eased.

Temps went from a high of 101 down to 75, we got about 1/2 inch of rain in less than an hour, the outflow was good but I grumbled because I couldn't actually catch a good vid of it. Then the sun came back out, the temps began to rise again, but not like before, and it just kept on thundering as it had for hours.

Once my neighbor knew it was over, he came to visit, I finished off dinner, served up and sent him home with several containers.

The grateful earth sucked up all the rain, and it's steaming up again. The food was good by all accounts. This is a dish my mom would have been proud of, good eats on the cheap. It is filling, tastes expensive but was really cheap to make. But trust me Melly, I'm NOT doing the codfish cakes--nope, never gonna happen. Me and hotdogs will be best friends by then.

Meanwhile, remember you CAN eat well on the cheap. Prepped about 11 HEALTHY servings for about $15. Along with yesterdays leftovers (that they were eating on today too), it'll last a while.

Tomorrow is Monday, so rest tonight and get ready for the new week.

One-Skillet-Wonders and extended heat wave

2011-07-23T18:46:00.003-04:00

I know that the season of "Summer" has only been with us officially for just over a month, but come ON, I'm DONE with it. The last few days well over 100 degrees, today 104. This kind of heat is for Arizona, not the Eastern Shore of Maryland. When you get to hoping that it's ONLY 90 degrees outside, that's bad.

HOT here IS 90 degrees with the humidity hovering at 80% or more, it's like walking and breathing in a hot, wet blanket. Here in the mid-Atlantic, the specific species of the Eastern Shore, we're an odd group, rather difficult to classify. We're not northerners, southerners, but we are easterners, just of a different category. Mostly we are a rural, hardy people, we enjoy simple pleasures and we aren't terribly sophisticated. That's never a bad thing, appreciation of simple joys is always a good trait.

However, this kind of heat, nobody appreciates. Just last month, during the initial bad heat wave in JUNE, we lost our air conditioning and finally had to replace it. Luckily it limped through the 102 degree day. After that, it was only in the UPPER 90's. The nights were in the 80's and with the fans we survived until the a/c was back on five days later. So do not think I am not grateful, I am every minute of the day that it's working, especially when I've gone outside and come back in with laundry.

The laundry didn't just dry out there, it BAKED, in that hot, slow, ruffling of air that didn't even qualify as a breeze. And while it dried the clean laundry didn't smell like my fresh laundry because it was cooked.

Then off to my niece's house for the b-day party for Aly who is now 5 years old. A ton of people into a tiny house when normally there would be a cookout. Not only were the hosts and the attendees working to make the party a happy one, but a QUICK one. You put 20+ people into a small house like that and you are going to overwhelm those little air conditioners. Besides, they had to put the dogs outside and they couldn't stay there that long in this heat. What is normally a 2-4 PM deal, was done by 3:20 PM, folks were happy to attend but just as happy to leave as were the hosts happy to see us go. Let the little Princess play with her gifts in peace and some semblance of cool.

Once home, I brought in that last load of whites that were now really dry (crispy)--socks and all. (I HATE HANGING SOCKS...I think I'll burn most of Erin's. She only has two feet and it was 7 days, why are there 28 of her socks to hang up?)

I keep watching the radar, there was a minor pop-up earlier just to the north and east of us, about 4 miles away, that built and moved eastward right over Fenwick and out to sea--dammit! Yet there is no BIG line of storms moving our way, mostly only the pop ups but nothing close. Where IS that cold front? Last Monday they PROMISED (the forecasters I mean) that our last HOT day was Friday. Um, it's Saturday and I'm not seeing this heat moving away.

I had to make food. When I shopped, nothing on sale looked good, it was just some ground round and some beef tips. Okay, they had some pork picnics on sale but I wasn't going all out in this heat--either grill or oven, not happening. I needed to make something quick since I was going to be gone during the normal food prep time for Saturday. Call it a one-skillet wonder, well, a 5-quart skillet wonder -- Old-Fashioned Goulash, maybe with a little extra bite.

I did want to spice it up a bit, it can be very bland if you aren't paying attention to it. And if it's bland, you are NOT going to want to eat it again AKA leftovers. So, I had the 3 lbs of ground round on sale. I browned it in the skillet in three lots, draining it off, not that it had a lot of fat to it, with just some salt, pepper, and garlic powder (nope, I didn't even dice garlic today).

As the browned burger drained, into the hot skillet went the olive oil and a bit of butter and a very LARGE diced sweet onion to work down until just beyond translucent but not yet fried. Back into the skillet went the drained burger, doused with about 3 tablespoons of soy sauce, about a tablespoon of tabasco, 2 teaspoons of liquid smoke, 2 bay leaves, a good tablespoon or so of italian seasonings, and the same for paprika, and a heaping tablespoon of sugar, a can of diced petite tomatoes and a can of tomato sauce. I stirred it all around to mix it up -- then the box of the tri-colored rotini, then added just enough water to level out, not cover. The rotini has to cook but you don't want it to leave much liquid, so when the pasta finishes, it has sucked up most of the liquid and the starch from the pasta has thickened to a sauce. (Hint, if you end up with too much liquid..a little cornstarch and water added after bringing the mix back to a boil will thicken it up for you--but mostly, if you gauge it right, you won't have to. Still the cornstarch and water adds a good sheen to the dish if you need it.)

Bring to a simmer, cock the lid and let it go until the pasta, any kind, is done. Give it a good stir, a taste, add anything you need to balance it out, salt, pepper, sugar, spices...then lid it tight and turn off the heat for about 15-20 minutes to allow it all to marry up well. Then serve.

Erin LOVED it. Well, the dish was made for her. She loves things that have a little heat to them, even with the knowledge there was easily a pound of diced sweet onions in there, she has totally caved into the idea that onions bring the goods in flavor. It's Don that I really have to tiptoe around. He was dozing in his chair. Had he the remotest idea over that I had even added Tabasco sauce, much less how much I put in, he would be gasping and grabbing the arms of his recliner...I just told him it was the liquid smoke. He really liked it, asked for seconds. I didn't smirk at all, in the face of Don, I can hold a straight face so he'll never know. Lying about my cooking to him has been a decades-building experience. I've had to. Tomorrow will be HIS dish, a little less on the spices but one both love, it's a crockpot dish, they call 'beef tips'--it's just stew meat worked down well, making gravy over more PASTA--doesn't matter what kind. Sigh... (Knows I've got some marrow bones in the freezer, it'll be good.)

Tomorrow is bed linen day, three beds and even with that, I'm hoping for storms. If I'm lucky that cooler front will come through, but if I start really early, I'll get them out and back in as the crock simmers away.

So know I'm grateful for my cool air, the food I am able to feed my family and my bed to sleep in later.

PS--FINALLY got to see the last Harry Potter movie. God, I LOVE Alan Rickman...I can't wait for it to come out on DVD to see it again. Stellar movie, don't miss it!

Meanwhile, Eat Well, Rest Well, and Keep Cool!