over and over all night.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
No More Cucumbers Before Bedtime
Dirt road..divided by two planted fields, both cultivated. Remnants of each crop stand dry and dead. The field on left is corn, field on right, cotton. I am driving down the dirt road on an ATV Gator. I pull into the corn field, killing the engine quickly. About 15 yards in front of me is the biggest buck I have ever seen. His rack is so big that it looks burdensome on his head. I lift the barrel of a 12 gauge shotgun to shoot it. Peering through the sight of my gun, I am almost ready to squeeze off the shot. Something runs between the end of the barrel and the buck. An ominous looking wolf darts back and forth between me and the buck. Not the pretty kind of wolf you see in 1000 piece puzzles. His mouth slightly open and teeth bared he continues to dart back and forth in front of me. The deer is strangely oblivious to both of us. I look into the drink holder of the gator and there are no more shells. I have one shell. One shot. I need to shoot the buck. No one would ever believe how big this thing is, I need to bring it home. But, the wolf seems more interested in me than the buck. What if I shoot the deer and don't have a way to kill the wolf if he attacks. That's it, no ending. The dream replayed 
over and over all night.
over and over all night.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Thanksgiving Fiascoes
I am so excited I can hardly contain myself. I will be working Thanksgiving morning, but it won't steal my joy. It will be only the second time in about 25 years that I haven't started the day with Macy's Thanksgiving Parade. Although I would rather be off work,
it will be fun to watch the harried shoppers and have the opportunity to wish so many people a blessed Thanksgiving.
I brined our Duck this morning. Giblets are stewing in pot and the house is heady with the aroma of the holiday. I chuckle remembering some of my cooking fiascoes. My very first Thanksgiving turkey turned out beautiful! A few minutes into the meal, my father-in-law tapped me on the leg. I peeked down as he gently dropped the cooked bag of giblets into my hand. What the heck were the giblets doing in the neck? I didn't check that hole.
Then there was the beautiful Chocolate Meringue Pie sitting in front of microwave on counter. "When did pies start requiring batteries?" my ex-son in law asked. He had scooped out a big slice and pulled out a AAA battery. The battery had been sitting on top of microwave ready to re-load camera, rolled off into the pie and submerged itself as the thick meringue re-concealed it.
Then there was last year when a costly pan of oyster dressing in a faulty Pyrex baking dish exploded in my kitchen sending shards of glass into two rooms. It sounded like a shotgun blast! Don came running from bed. His concern was evident upon arrival. Save the stuffing! He pulled the center of the stuffing out claiming it was still good. He lives.
Oh, then there was the year that I decide to change up a bit. I cooked everyone a Cornish hen in place of a turkey. My grandchildren are still scarred. When I took the foil off the pan revealing each of their stuffed hens, they were mortified. I presume they thought grandma had succumbed to killing baby turkeys.
Laughter waves from family and friends still reverberate in the Milky Way. Thankful prayers warm my heart and satisfied belly rubbing and couch stretching are a joyous conclusion to the meals. My family is thankful, my dog stretches out on a cool tile floor, snoring. Her belly is full from the pieces of turkey passed beneath the table. Extra plates are made and wrapped to carry to a convenient store worker working a long day, he is thankful. A drive behind a shopping center reveals some homeless people sitting on crates toothless smiles and tobacco stained teeth say thank you. I am so blessed and so very Thankful!
it will be fun to watch the harried shoppers and have the opportunity to wish so many people a blessed Thanksgiving.
I brined our Duck this morning. Giblets are stewing in pot and the house is heady with the aroma of the holiday. I chuckle remembering some of my cooking fiascoes. My very first Thanksgiving turkey turned out beautiful! A few minutes into the meal, my father-in-law tapped me on the leg. I peeked down as he gently dropped the cooked bag of giblets into my hand. What the heck were the giblets doing in the neck? I didn't check that hole.
Then there was the beautiful Chocolate Meringue Pie sitting in front of microwave on counter. "When did pies start requiring batteries?" my ex-son in law asked. He had scooped out a big slice and pulled out a AAA battery. The battery had been sitting on top of microwave ready to re-load camera, rolled off into the pie and submerged itself as the thick meringue re-concealed it.
Then there was last year when a costly pan of oyster dressing in a faulty Pyrex baking dish exploded in my kitchen sending shards of glass into two rooms. It sounded like a shotgun blast! Don came running from bed. His concern was evident upon arrival. Save the stuffing! He pulled the center of the stuffing out claiming it was still good. He lives.
Oh, then there was the year that I decide to change up a bit. I cooked everyone a Cornish hen in place of a turkey. My grandchildren are still scarred. When I took the foil off the pan revealing each of their stuffed hens, they were mortified. I presume they thought grandma had succumbed to killing baby turkeys.
Laughter waves from family and friends still reverberate in the Milky Way. Thankful prayers warm my heart and satisfied belly rubbing and couch stretching are a joyous conclusion to the meals. My family is thankful, my dog stretches out on a cool tile floor, snoring. Her belly is full from the pieces of turkey passed beneath the table. Extra plates are made and wrapped to carry to a convenient store worker working a long day, he is thankful. A drive behind a shopping center reveals some homeless people sitting on crates toothless smiles and tobacco stained teeth say thank you. I am so blessed and so very Thankful!
Friday, November 18, 2011
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Confessions of a Southern Girl
I was reading the reviews of a local author whose book is going to be released soon ~Baptized in Sweet Tea~ by Ken Burger. It will be awesome I am sure. The title evokes the ease of our southern culture. But my throat closes and I shudder at the thought of taking a sip. Ok..here goes. I hate ~Sweet Tea~ I know, terrible right?
I have tried and failed miserably over the years to acquire a taste for it and have been known to run to the nearest waste facility to spit out the amber nectar of the south. This is not something taken lightly in the south and my DNA could be questioned by this utterance. I love everything about it other than it's taste though. The tinkling of ice in the clear glasses, lemon wedges crowning it's glory perched on rims. I have visions of wrap around porches lined with adirondacks or wicker furniture, every side table is graced with a half full glass of tea. The only reason that I may not be burned at the stake might be my affinity for RC Cola and Moonpies! While I'm fessing. Watermelon and Cantaloupe. Yup...that's right. Despise!
Oh and one more thing. I absolutely love Grits, but I can't cook them right. I may nail it once every five tries. My hubby describes them as either ~A Grit~ or ~Gritsesses~ One you can pick up and eat by the wedge, the other you can slurp with a straw. Oh well, still working on that one.
Friday, November 11, 2011
Friday, November 4, 2011
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