Oh my!

I had a handful of crushes when I was a teenager. At the time, they were passionate and meaningful. Actors, singers and an occasional neighborhood boy captured my heart. I am the first to admit that I had a major crush on Leif Garrett. Hey, I was a kid and he was cute. I learned the words to all of his songs. I bought his albums. (I still own his albums) I played them over and over again. I daydreamed.

Yes, I know what he looks like now.



It doesn't change how I felt for him back then. It was real. Ah, young love. Another guy I had a crush on was Lance Kerwin. Come on, "James at 15," was the show I watched.



I think I mostly had a thing for blond guys. Funny, considering I married a dark haired guy. lol Lets just say most of the young guys I had crushes on when I was a teenager sure as heck didn't age well as they grew up.

I think Shaun Cassidy is one of the few that looked great then, and looks nice now.



I don't discount the attractions I felt as a teenager. My hormones were going nuts. It's a normal progression to the emotions I faced when I began dating. Life is not an afterschool special and, no, Scott Baio never did step up to my door to ask me for a date. It doesn't mean I didn't dream about it. lol




Young love is a flame; very pretty, often very hot and fierce, but still only light and flickering. The love of the older and disciplined heart is as coals, deep-burning, unquenchable.

Henry Ward Beecher

Imaginations

Ever since I was a kid I've often wondered how other people live. As a passenger in my parent's car or even my own as I got older I would stare at the houses we'd drive by. Little houses, big houses, red houses, and even purple houses--they sat on the side of the road full of people and animals.

What did the owners do for a living? How did they wind up living where they did? Was the house left to them by a dying aunt? Did they purposely pay money to own the 600 square foot bungalow that looked more like a shed than a place someone would call home?

Are they happy? Are they like Mother Hubbard and have more kids than they knew what to do with? Or were they the grumpy couple who hated kids and chased them off their lawns?

I wanted to know who those people were--did they hug their kids or beat their parents? Were they honest souls or crooks who stab me without a second thought?

Were they teachers, bus drivers, chefs or businessmen? Were they allergic to strawberries or dance naked by the light of a full moon? Do they have a brother-in-law sleeping on the sofa kicked out by a pissed off wife?

In the briefest of moments as I drove past their homes I wondered these thoughts. I never really got my answers.

Did the wonder the same thing about me and mine?

Dreamy Christmas

Wandering around shopping one day, I happened to stumble upon a Thomas Kinkade gallery. I had heard of him before, but wasn't quite sure what the story was behind his artwork. I knew I sort of liked it, but it was way outside my budget. Yes, it's a bit smarmy, in my opinion, but also it's hopeful. It harkens back to a time some of us wish we could go--a simpler time, and a simpler life.

Okay, maybe just a dream life that is simpler. I would love to live in one of his paintings for just one Christmas. They always look like they are more enjoyable, softer, safer, sweeter and what Christmas should be like--perfect. Which, as many of us know, Christmas doesn't always work out that way.

Mine are usually pretty good, but I know if I lived in one of Thomas Kinkade's paintings it would be perfection.

What painting would you want to step into and live?

Passion for Pixar

The love affair began with "Toy Story." From the first moment I saw Woody strutting across the screen my heart was lost. At the time, there was nothing like it. The richness of the animation was a feast for the eyes. The music was captivating, the storyline sweet, sad and pleasantly entertaining. One after another hit the screens--A Bug's Life, Toy Story 2, Monsters, Inc., Finding Nemo, The Incredibles, Cars, Ratatouille, WALL-E and, now, Up.

I have seen them all. I own them all. I can't say I bought them for my grandchild, because I owned almost all of them before Gabriel was born. I bought them for me. Jerry is not as big a fan of Pixar animation as I am. I am a major geek about the Pixar movies. I have seen them more than once and I'm not embarrassed to admit it.

When I have chores to do, I pop in Toy Story 2 or Monsters, Inc. I can listen to the soundtrack as I clean and it's great. The animation is so pleasing to the eyes. The colors are soothing, the realism is amazing and I just really enjoy the movies.

If you haven't seen any of these movies, SHAME ON YOU. Even if you don't have kids, these movies are worth watching and owning.

Hey, I'm a Pixar geek and proud of it.

Where did this come from?

It seems as I get older I have new things appear that I never had before. And I don't mean gray hair. lol I suddenly realize I really don't like heights. They weren't my favorite growing up, but I never let it stop me from doing things. I got into a small plane with my aunt as a pilot. Trust me, if that's not stupid faith, I don't know what is. (You had to have known my aunt).

I easily climbed walls, roofs, trees and such. But as the years went by I became more afraid. For work, I went up in a hot air balloon, 1,500 feet in the air. There was nothing between me and the ground but a small piece of plywood. No parachute, no safety belt--nothing. I still managed to function, albeit a bit slower.

Three years ago, when we visited the Grand Canyon, it took all my will power to walk to the path to the viewing area. Jerry and the boys were fine. They laughed, pointed and enjoyed themselves. Me? I found I couldn't catch my breath. I became dizzy. I was experiencing a panic attack. The vastness of the Grand Canyon blew me away. Have you seen it in person? It's flipping huge. There is so much.... space, it's completely overwhelming.

And last year when I climbed onto our roof to help put on the Christmas lights I felt the icy cold breathe of fear. My knees shook and I leaned over to clip the lights in under the shingles. I felt if I leaned just one more inch over to adjust the lights I was going to fall on my head. I'm going. I'm a goner.

I hurried up and as I slid over to the ladder to get down I realized I couldn't do it. I couldn't step onto the ladder. My legs felt like Jell-O. I was shaking so hard. I sat there on the roof and realized I was going to be there all night. I told Jerry I couldn't do it. "Come on down," he urged. "You can do it."

"No. I can't." I wanted him to go inside and open up the guest bedroom's window so I could crawl into it into the house. But Jerry chided me to climb down the ladder. As he held it, I finally climbed down.

I'm not going up there this year if I can help it. I don't want Jerry going up there either. If I do go up, I'm coming down via the bedroom window. No more downward ladder exits for me.

Just the thought of going up there gives me gray hairs.

A Thousand Years Over a Hot Stove

It's fitting that I should pull out one of my favorite books as Thanksgiving is approaching. "A Thousand Years Over A Hot Stove," by Laura Schenone is great for someone who loves women's history and the history of cooking. It gives a different insight into the past than the normal dusty tomes.

Most of our history has been given to us from a male viewpoint. I don't mean to knock it, but that's only one viewpoint. The highlights have usually centered on men.

Well, guess what? Women have a colorful and interesting history, too. The writer pulls much of what she writes about from oral history of women. That's where people actually sat down and talked to the older women from all cultural levels of life and asked them first hand what it was like growing up. I love reading those accounts.

What I like about this book is that she shares historical recipes that I haven't seen anywhere else. I have learned how to cook locusts. That's right. Locusts.

Remove legs, wings, and head of insect. Brown the rest in the ashes and eat. It tastes like peanuts. Used to be eaten in the old days, but now mostly by children. Used as medicine to cure stomach ache and prevent measles, smallpox or other contagious diseases. --Flora L. Bailey "Navaho Foods and Cooking Methods," 1940

I know, I'm a slight freak. I can't help it. I love history.

I bought this book for my Women's History class at college. But it actually combines my two loves--history and cooking. I relate to the writer's comments in the intro of the book.

"Though the majority of American women may no longer slaughter pigs, preserve peaches, or make their own tortillas, the effort of cooking continues to be largely women's work, a major force in the rhythm of our lives, keeping us alive, and bringing us together around the table with those we like, those we love, and those we need. Perhaps this is why cooking still matters to women."

I have pulled the book out of my bookcase and I'm going to re-read it this week. If there is ever a time to remember cooking and women's history this is it. My husband made a comment to me recently that since the kids are elsewhere and we are alone, that I didn't need to stress out making a Thanksgiving meal. He didn't get it. I make our Thanksgiving meal because it shows how much I love them. I might look stressed out, but it's a good stress. It's my way of artistically showing them how much I love them. I care deeply about my cooking. It might not be perfect, but it's from the heart.

If you get the chance to read this book, I highly recommend it.

Foggy Thoughts

I can't help myself; I bust out laughing when people in San Antonio complain about the fog. Fog? San Antonio. Please. You want to complain about fog, try driving through Tule fog. Now, that's some serious fog. I once drove into Bakersfield from Arvin where the fog was so thick that I couldn't see the past the front hood of the car. I had to drive with the window rolled down and sticking my head out every so often to try to find the white line in the road. I drove what was normally a 30 minute drive that took me almost an hour and a half. I had to drive so slow to be safe. I couldn't follow the tail lights of the car in front of me, because they could be driving off the road themselves.

People in San Antonio get so nervous in their "fog." Geez. Their fog is pretty, somewhat thin and you can easily see down the road at least four car lengths. That's a clear day in Central California. lol

But, in Bakersfield I had to laugh when it snowed six inches that one year. Residents there freaked out. They had no clue how to drive in snow. I mean come on, this is not that much snow.



When I was a kid, I had to walk to school in snow that reached my knees. Just like those stories you hear about. lol Only they were true. I used to walk in the wheel tracks of cars that drove on the road just so I didn't have to keep sinking in the snow. Once I started to drive, then I learned of a new terror. Reno can get some amazing snow storms. I can still remember driving to University of Nevada, Reno with snow like this:



Man, scraping snow/ice off your windshield was a biotch. And what's worse than driving in thick snow was hitting black ice. With black ice, it's not like you can see it to avoid it like a snow drift. With black ice, especially at night, you hit it and before you know it you are doing wheelies in the middle of a busy road. Ughhh

I guess I'm a seasoned driver. I've driven in the worst of the worst. Snow storms, Tule fog and rain that flooded the road as I drove over it.

San Antonio fog is bad. Yeah, right. rofl

Military Dreams

When I was a freshman in high school I decided that when I graduated I would join the Army. My oldest brother, Tommy, was in the 101st Airborne Division in the Army and I was and am very proud of him. I was devastated to learn that because I was hearing impaired I would not be able to join.

It didn't matter that I was completely healthy, physically fit, intelligent and eager to join. I wasn't good enough. As a woman, I knew I wouldn't be allowed to be on the front line. I could deal with that--but as a hearing disabled person I apparently didn't have anything valuable enough for the military.

It sucked big time. I was so disappointed. I still feel I would have thrived in a military atmosphere. I could have been an asset in whatever position they put me in. I didn't care where I worked, I just wanted to help.

Military pride runs deep in my family. Practically every generation of my family has been in the military all the way back to the American Revolutionary War.

Samuel King was my 6th great grandfather. He was born in Clogher, Northern Ireland in 1746. He emigrated from Northern Ireland at age 23 in 1769. Samuel King enlisted December 9, 1776, as a Private in Co. K, 11th Virginia Regiment of the Continental Army commanded by Col. Daniel Morgan. He was captured at Germantown and listed as a prisoner on a muster roll call October 14, 1777. He apparently escaped and appeared on the Philadelphia Co., Pennsylvania muster roll on February 17, 1778, in Camp Valley Forge under General George Washington.

His patriotic blood runs in my veins. I hold my hand over my heart when I sing the national anthem. I know I wouldn't be where I am today if it wasn't for my brave ancestors fighting for our freedoms.

I honor and respect every soldier who has been in any segment of the armed forces. My oldest son is in the Air Force. My father and brother were in the Army. My grandfather was in the coast guard. My relatives were in the Civil War (on both sides). My ancestors have fought in every single war back to the beginnings of our country. Heck, they probably fought in more wars prior to that time in England, Scotland and Ireland where my ancestors are from. I just haven't found documentation of that yet.

I only wish I had the chance to add to that honor. Oh well.

This nation will remain the land of the free only so long as it is the home of the brave. -Elmer Davis

Here I Go Again

I am the first one to admit I can be a crybaby. I get emotional over tv shows, movies, heck even commercials. Right now, I am watching the tv show, "The Locator," and I'm teary eyed. I normally don't cry in my every day life. There's just something about sad tv shows, movies and the such that get to me. This episode shows a young woman wanting to find her father whom she hasn't seen since she was 12. This young woman has terminal cancer. My gosh, she's young, and she has four kids. Luckily, her father is found and they are reunited. I'm bawling like a baby.

I keep telling myself that crying at times like this is good for me. It's healthy to cry. It's not something to be ashamed of--no matter how much my boys and husband tease me about it. It relieves stress, releases toxins from the body and calms your soul.

That's my story and I'm sticking to it. lol

That's also why I am so careful about what movies I watch. I am quite empathetic with the characters. I feel way too much. Yes, I know it's a movie, but I get into them. Especially if it's a good movie. I will stick to watching comedies. Those I can handle. I love to laugh and that also feels good.

I can watch sporting events and get emotional. Especially with the Olympics. Who didn't get teary eyed when the 1980s USA hockey team won? Huh? I dare you to deny it.



Go ahead, call me a crybaby. I can take it.

Take a Deep Breath and Relax

Lately, I've really gotten into meditation. I have an IPOD that I listen to every night as I go to sleep. I pop my ear plugs in and within minutes I'm out cold. It used to be that it would easily take 20 to 30 minutes for my brain to stop thinking and finally relax enough for me to fall asleep. Between an overactive brain and Jerry's snoring, I'm lucky if I got five hours of sleep a night. And, boy I dreamed so much I'd wake up more tired than when I went to bed.

I discovered Kelly Howell on ITunes. She offers up a unique style of meditation music. It utilizes subliminal brain waves. And it works. Her voice is soothing and is actually pleasant to listen to--and I'm quite picky. The first recording I listened to was entitled, "Deep Sleep," and it put me into a delicious deep sleep. I hadn't slept that well...since ever. I downloaded a couple more of her albums on my IPOD. The latest is "Healing Meditation."

I'm enjoying listening to it. It's relaxing and takes the stress right out of me. I'm not sitting in a lotus position meditating. I'm laying on my back in bed, lights off and just taking deep breaths as I listen to first a little bit of talking, then just music. But it's not merely music. It's about 30 minutes long and it's new age, but not new age. Ugh, you need to listen to it yourself to understand.

It works. I'm calmer, I sleep better and I'm more cheerful. I can't quite imagine myself sitting in a lotus position, but kicked back on the bed, I can handle.

Best thing is I don't want to rip off anyone's head at work. That's a nice change of pace. lol

Now, take a deep breath and relax.

Richard Davidson, a professor of psychology and psychiatry at the University of Wisconsin says, "Modern neuroscience is showing that our minds are as plastic as our bodies. Meditation can help you train your mind in the same way exercise can train your body." Therefore, each and every minute you meditate you're enhancing the biochemistry of your brain, building muscles that increase your mental, emotional and spiritual potential.

Aliens Among Us

I was in junior high when I wrote my first play. I'm not sure why my writing career started with a play instead of a short story, but a play it was. I know I was heavily influenced when I read Erich von Däniken's "Chariot of the Gods?" My play was about alien astronauts who land on earth and what they find when they get here. Not only did I write the play, but I directed it as it was performed in front of my classmates. It wasn't performed on stage, but in front of the classroom. We made props and everything. So began my writing career. lol

I've always been a behind-the-scenes kind of person. I've never sought out the limelight. That's why I like writing. I can create my own worlds, my own characters and live vicariously through them. I'm shy. I always have been. I can socialize with the best of them, but with my hearing disability it's always made me uncomfortable to be in front of a group of people. The more people there are, the harder it is to hear properly--hearing aids or not.

But with writing, I can always be in control. I can "hear" everything that's going on and I won't make a fool of myself. Normal hearing people have no clue how awkward it is to not understand what's going on around you. I can't count the many times I've misunderstood conversations and embarrassed myself. I swear I'm going to get a bumper sticker for my Jeep, "I'm not stupid, I just can't hear you right."

Writing allows me the chance to say what I want, how I want and I like that a lot. It's good therapy for me to work through frustrations with writing. I had one short I did where I worked through some aggressions I had--I call it my "Jean-Claude Van Damme" moment. It felt good to kick someone's butt even if I don't do it in real life.

There have been times when I have felt like an alien on this planet. Not fitting in the hearing world and not fitting in the deaf world. I've always been on the outside looking in.

I've been working on a book for the longest time. My protagonist is a hard-of-hearing lady who deals with a mystery. What are the odds? lol They say to write what you know. Well, I know what's it's like to face hearing challenges. So that's what I'm writing. One day, I might actually finish it. I work on it, and then set it aside. I tinker with it and push it away.

It's a challenge. But I think I will stick with it. Unless an ancient alien arrives in my backyard and entices me to visit his planet. Then all bets are off.

Theme Songs

I once watched an episode once of Ally McBeal that had to do with theme songs. Tracey Ullman played a therapist who helped Ally develop her own theme song to make herself happy. Ever since that show, I find myself humming my own "theme" song as I go about my day. The point is it should make you happy. There are times I crack myself up. The theme from "Shaft" will go through my head at the oddest times. Suddenly, I find myself giggling.

Other songs I have considered my theme song include "On a Clear Day, You Can See Forever," by Barbra Streisand. (I adore Babs, especially in that movie). If I could sing like anyone, it would be her.



Also, when I started at the SA dealership, I heard this song over and over again. It became "my" song. "Crazy" by Gnarls Barkley



I can hear it now without cringing, but four or five times a day, every day for a couple of months, was driving me.... certifiable crazy. lol

I don't need to listen to radio to enjoy music. It will free float in my head. If you can't make yourself smile, goodness gracious, who will?

Rain in San Antonio

This past Saturday, Jerry and I went to a concert that featured the Beatles tribute band, "Rain." We love Beatles music and spending a couple of hours listening to great musicians play some of our favorite music was completely cool.

Yes, I know they aren't the Beatles. They do their damndest to look, talk and sing like them, but they aren't the Fab Four. I'm not delusional to believe I was listening to the original band. But they are pretty darned good singers and musicians in their own right. The guy who portrayed George Harrison could play some serious guitar. He had two solos that were amazing.

They are more of an "event," as much as a concert, as they do videos in between the songs. There were easily three generations of fans in the audience. Everyone had a great time. It was held at the Majestic Theater, which I've mentioned before, is a gorgeous venue. The concert was sold out. In fact, Rain, sold out all eight shows they held here in San Antonio.

I think I can honestly say I enjoy the earlier music of the Beatles. "Love Me Do," "I Wanna Hold Your Hand," "Twist and Shout," and "Help." Man, I can hear those songs and instantly want to get up and dance around the room. Jerry appreciates their later studio music, "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Heart's Club Band," "Come Together," and the such. They had such diversity. There is something for everyone.

It was a sad day when the Beatles broke up and a devastating day when John was murdered. What a light of goodness he was. We haven't seen Paul McCartney in concert. He's a bit expensive. If I go to see him in concert, baby, I'm sitting right up front. He's a living piece of rock and roll history.

Going out made me realize how I want to do more of it. We've seen concerts in Bakersfield--George Thorogood, Tom Petty, Doobie Brothers, BTO and others. I think I'm going to like the diversity of the bands that come here to San Antonio.

Since it's just Jerry and I now, we can get away to do things. I'm starting to like this middle age spurt we are going through.

If Rain comes to your town, check them out. It's a great night out and will give you a chance to hear some great music.

The Perfect Steak

There's nothing quite like a steak from Texas. If that sounds like bull pucky, it's not. It's true. Since moving here, I've learned that they truly know how to create the most mouth-watering tender steak I've had in my life. And it's not just one restaurant, we've had amazing steak meals at multiple places--Texas Roadhouse, Texas Land & Cattle Company, and Saltgrass Steak House. There's even more places that are highly rated here in San Antonio, that Jerry and I haven't had a chance to visit yet, but they've had great reviews. They include Boudro's On The Riverwalk, Bohanan's Prime Steaks & Seafood, Fleming's Prime Steakhouse & Wine Bar, The Little Rhein Steakhouse, Morton's The Steakhouse, Myron's Prime Steak House, and Ruth's Chris Steak House.

It's so flipping cool to live in a place that offers a myriad of fine dining choices. I am so not used to that at all. I'm slowly learning the benefit of well-seasoned meat and what exactly quality meat tastes like. My favorite dish at Texas Roadhouse is their sirloin beef tips with mushrooms. It is really good. Their steaks are specially aged and hand-cut every day by their in-house meat cutters. We aren't talking pre-cut frozen steaks bought from a place states away.

By the way, everything made at Texas Roadhouse is made from scratch every day--from the salad dressings to the yeast rolls. Those are to die for. I'm hungry just thinking about it.

If you want a great steak, come to Texas. You will find it.

When I Grow Up

By junior high, I knew what I wanted to be when I grew up--a librarian. Go ahead, laugh your butt off. It's true. I fell in love with reading when my parents bought me a handful of hardbound Nancy Drew mysteries. It was love at first paragraph. The deal was closed in the 5th grade when I won a contest in Mrs. White's class and the reward was my own copy of “The Prince and the Pauper.”



I knew then, I needed books—lots and lots of books. Although my real life was dull and boring, books could transport me to other lands, other times, and if I wanted help me be a different person. Every time I opened a cover of a book an adventure awaited. I have literally read thousands and thousands of books, plays and magazines. I think it would be fair to say I'm a bookaholic.

From 7th grade forward I worked in the school library. I knew the Dewey Decimal System backwards and forwards. I was an assistant to every librarian up through my senior year of high school. I even took a library class in college. I was stymied in my attempt to become a librarian due to a couple of reasons--I paid my own way through college (I had no help from anyone) and the University of Nevada, Reno didn't offer a degree an ALA–accredited master’s degree in library and information science. The closest schools that had that program were either Berkeley or UCLA. I couldn't afford either one. It was a bitter pill to swallow.

I wound up moving to California with my parents right after my first semester in college. Yeah, I was closer to UCLA, but boo, I still didn't have enough money. Then a couple of months later I met Jerry and wham bam thank you ma'am, we were married. Before I knew it, we had a family and my college dreams were put aside.

But books still held their allure for me. I never stopped reading. Heck, I even took a book to Vegas when Jerry and I got married. lol

As I raised my son, then my second son came around, I always took them to the Arvin library. It was a small place, but I loved it. I enjoyed being around the books so much, I donated my time to help them shelf books. After doing that for six months, they hired me on. I was thrilled. Even though I was a temporary library clerk I was in seventh heaven. I was around all those wonderful books, helping people, and they paid me for it!

That was such a great summer. I was seriously thinking about applying for a job at the central library in town, but was discouraged by coworkers on how political it was there.

By a strange twist of fate I wound up working at the daily newspaper in Bakersfield. I started as a news clerk (a glorified typist/phone gal) and again opportunity fell in my lap and I became a writer. I had the job before I had the degree.

More than one "real" reporter asked me how I got the job. To my face, mind you. How can I be writing if I hadn't gone to college? I was able to write because I was a professional reader. I wasn't just a casual reader. I can honestly say I have probably read more books than most all of the writers combined from that newsroom. Okay, that might sound a bit arrogant. But in high school, I read seven books and two plays per week. I'm a serious "reader."

I think the key was when I worked at the newspaper that I kept myself humble and I was always learning. I had some incredibly talented teachers--some of them even reporters from the newspaper where I worked. I continued my college career, working full time and raising my sons. It was hard, and without Jerry it would have been impossible. But I did it.

My love of reading carried me to places in my real life I never even knew possible. When we bought our house in Texas, I was able to finally purchase what I always wanted--beautiful custom-made oak bookcases.



I finally had a place to display my beloved friends. That and I have a library in my house. I might not be a professional librarian, but I play one at home. lol

Random Food Thoughts

I had to laugh at myself today. In a flash of awareness I realized how different I must be than most people. As we go through our workday, random thoughts flitter across our minds. Whereas for me, those thoughts usually tie to cooking. Not that I'm a chef. Far from it. I just like to cook. But what I really enjoy cooking are desserts. There is a reason my husband and I are a tad bit overweight. lol

So there I was, processing a handful of payrolls and what am I thinking about? A chocolate cake recipe I am thinking about trying out. I have this great recipe for a chocolate cake from scratch. I've made it before, but with a peanut butter frosting. I was thinking I could make the batter, but pour it into a bundt cake pan instead of a 9x13 pan and then create a flavorful center for it. I have some great blackberry preserves and I thought, "Wow, I wonder if I can mix that in some cream cheese to make a delicious filling for the cake?"

That's not the normal thing a person thinks about during their work day. At least, I don't think they do. I am not sure what it is about desserts that I love so much, but I can cook those until I pass out. I love being creative and mixing them up.

Regular food, I just process out to eat. Spaghetti, sloppy joes and the such are normal meals. I don't get creative with those because they mainly explode into doggie food if I do.

But I have to say, I do make kick ass desserts.

I'm thinking about melting some of those blackberry preserves and pouring them over the bundt cake when it's done as a glaze. Maybe add some fresh blackberries over the top.

I wonder what it would taste like, if I do? What thoughts go through your minds?


-----------------

Best Scratch Chocolate Cake Ever

Ingredients:
2 cups all-purpose flour
2 cups sugar
2/3 cup baking cocoa
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 eggs
1 cup milk
2/3 cup vegetable oil
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 cup brewed coffee, room temperature

Directions:
In a mixing bowl, combine dry ingredients. Add eggs, milk, oil and vanilla; beat for 2 minutes. Stir in coffee (batter will be thin).
Pour into a greased 13-in. x 9-in. baking pan. Bake at 350° for 35-40 minutes or until a toothpick inserted near the center comes out clean. Cool completely on a wire rack.

Halloween

Fall happens to be my favorite time of the year. The leaves start to turn, it's cool enough to sleep with the windows open and I eagerly look forward to Halloween. We always had a great time with our kids on Halloween. I think we had more fun decorating the house, than planning their costumes. They always helped me drag the pumpkins, homemade headstones and put together scarecrow cowboy guy. We have always had a bench by the front door and every Halloween we'd pull out a pair of Jerry's old jeans, a cowboy shirt, shoes, gloves and a cowboy hat and stuff it all with newspaper. We'd sit him on the bench so it looked like someone real was sitting there. We'd use an old devil halloween mask as a face. It scared all visitors on Halloween.

The kids in the neighborhood got used to seeing our guy sitting on the bench. Most of the little ones always thought he was real. In fact, one year we had Jared sit there, posing just like the scarecrow cowboy guy, but as the kids walked away he's stand up and touch them on the shoulder. ROFL Talk about screaming kids. We actually made some of them cry. Oh well. lol

I have a new bench on the front porch, but no scarecrow guy. It's just not the same since the kids are older and live elsewhere. I put up decorations and play scary music out the window on Halloween. The neighborhood kids like our decorations. I haven't made anyone cry in Texas. Yet.

Last year, Emily brought Gabriel over to go trick or treating in our neighborhood. He looked great in his bumblebee costume.



The only bad thing of the night was as we were waving goodbye to them, I stepped on a scorpion barefooted. Talk about major pain. We ran inside and called poison control who basically told me to relax I wasn't going to die. I survived, but that first half hour was MAJORLY painful. I guess it serves me right for going barefoot on Halloween. Never again.

We also carved pumpkins last year with Gabriel. It was so wonderful.



We won't be able to do that this year, as Jason, Emily and Gabriel are staying in Abilene for Halloween. Emily will have to take lots of photos. This year, Gabriel is supposed to be Lion King. I can't wait to see the photos.

I love making Halloween goodies for Jerry and I and sitting around watching old, scary movies. I don't go for the new gore-filled horror movies. I like either Abbott and Costello meet Frankenstein or something else along those lines. We don't get as many kids here in Texas as we used to get in California, but we live at the end of a long street in a cul-de-sac. I'm just glad no one buses kids to our area. lol

I've done my share of scary things on Halloween--walking through cemetaries, being in a seance room at midnight, and touring ghost towns. We had a blast doing it all.

I always say it's not the dead that worry me on Halloween, it's the living.


Mwahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Here's a recipe for those brave enough to try them. They taste so yummy.

Severed Fingers Halloween Cookies

SERVES 15 , 30 cookies

Ingredients
2 tablespoons red food coloring
30 blanched almonds
2 large eggs
1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 cup butter, at room temperature
1/2 cup confectioners' sugar
5 tablespoons granulated sugar
1 pinch salt
1 2/3 cups all-purpose flour

Directions
1. Heat oven to 350°. Line two baking sheets with Silpats (French nonstick baking mats) or parchment paper, and set aside.

2. Place food coloring in a shallow bowl. crack each whole almond into halves. and toss them into the bowl with the food coloring and stir them until the color is evenly distributed. leave them in the bowl and stir them every so often until the color is as dark as you like.

3. Separate 1 egg. Set aside the white. In a small bowl, whisk together yolk, remaining egg, and vanilla. Set aside.

4. In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, combine butter, confectioners' sugar, granulated sugar, and salt. Beat on medium speed until well combined. Add egg mixture, and beat until smooth, about 2 minutes. Add the flour, and mix on low speed just until incorporated. Wrap the dough in plastic, and chill until firm, 20 to 30 minutes.

5. Divide the dough in half. Work with one piece at a time, keeping remaining dough covered with plastic wrap and chilled. Divide the first half into fifteen pieces. On a lightly floured surface, roll each piece back and forth with palms into finger shapes, 3 to 4 inches long. Pinch dough in two places to form knuckles. Score each knuckle lightly with the back of a small knife. Transfer fingers to prepared baking sheets. Repeat with remaining dough.

6. When all fingers are formed, brush lightly with egg white. Position almond nails; push into dough to attach.

7. Bake until lightly browned, about 12 minutes. Cool completely.

8. note: To make the knuckles more creepy just shape them big and uneven. To keep them from puffing out too much roll the fingers extra skinny (skinnier than you want them to look if that makes sense). I also try to get them out of the oven before they brown. I sometimes add a bit of almond extract to dough.

http://www.recipezaar.com/Severed-Fingers-Halloween-Cookies-135850

McNay Art Museum

On a misty, rain-soaked afternoon, Jerry and I decided it was the perfect day to visit the McNay Art Museum. I had put the bug in his ear weeks earlier and we couldn't have asked for a better day to be inside. Located about 20 miles from our house, we drove through beautiful, older neighborhoods to find the museum. The McNay Art Museum was the former home of Marion Koogler McNay. And what a home it was--a mansion of beauty and charm.



Built in 1927, the mansion is a 24-room Spanish Colonial-Revival that is elaborate without being gaudy. It sits on 23 acres of surrounding land and boasts a courtyard that is lush and calming.





Mrs. McNay was an avid art collector. The very first painting she ever bought was Diego Rivera’s Delfina Flores.



She passed away in 1950, but made sure that her artwork would not only be protected, but enjoyed by everyone. She left behind a collection 700 pieces of amazing art. An endowment she created helped start the first museum of modern art in Texas which opened its doors in 1954.

The collections has grown to more than 20,000 works that includes:
•Medieval and Renaissance art.
•19th- through 21st- century European and American paintings, sculptures and photographs.
•One of the finest collections of prints and drawings in the Southwest.
•The exceptional Tobin Collection of Theatre Arts.

The museum has a visiting exhibition featuring the reclaimed artwork of Jacques Goudstikker. I really enjoyed these paintings. They were Dutch "Golden Age" paintings of the 17th century, and a handful of Renaissance paintings. I find myself drawn to paintings from this era.

We were looking at original artwork from 400-500 years ago. It's mind blowing to think that something hanging on the wall right in front of me was painted so long ago. Colors were vibrant and clear, while others were soft and muted. Clear lines, delicate brushwork on canvases that were created by natural light. No lightbulbs helped the artists. They couldn't just go down to their local Hobby Lobby and pick up a tube of paint. They had to make their own paint fresh every day.

I love the Old Masters more than the modern stuff. I admit it. In one gallery, they hung all the modern paintings and scultpures. There was a painting of a trash bag. Just a trash bag. I don't get it. Sorry. Lots of squiggly lines on one painting. No rhyme, no reason, no clarity. Just a squiggly mess.

We didn't stay long in that gallery. Some people love that kind of stuff. Not me.

Another exhibit they have is the The Harmon and Harriet Kelley Collection of African American Art: Works on Paper. This was a beautiful, and touching collection. I have to share what the museum had to say about the collection:

San Antonians Harmon and Harriet Kelley began collecting African American art in the 1980s. Since that time, their collection has grown quantitatively and qualitatively to become one of the finest such collections in public or private hands in the United States. Every room of their home is full of museum-quality paintings, drawings, and prints illustrating the rich history of African American art from the late 19th century to the present. The Harmon and Harriet Kelley Collection of African American Art: Works on Paper, featuring nearly 100 prints, drawings, and watercolors, is a wonderful introduction to the riches of their collection and also a remarkable and unique survey of more than a century of American art. A rare opportunity to see these privately held treasures, this exhibition also serves as an advocate for greater understanding and appreciation of the contributions made by African Americans to art history.

Harmon and Harriet Kelley were prescient as collectors, buying works of art at a time when not many other collectors were interested. Hence, their collection contains many works which are not to be seen anywhere else. Among the earliest and rarest works in the exhibition are prints by the 19-century printmaker Grafton Taylor Brown, the first documented professional graphic artist to work on the West Coast. The exhibition is also particularly rich in works by artists of the 1930s and 40s, which document in strikingly beautiful and personal ways the growing awareness of African American heritage and identity. Among the artists included in the exhibition whose work focused on the African American experience are Elizabeth Catlett, Romare Bearden, and Jacob Lawrence. The exhibition also includes contemporary works by Alison Saar and Robert Colescott. In all, more than 50 different artists are represented by works in the exhibition.

I admit I am ignorant about African American artists. I enjoyed walking from gallery to gallery admiring the work I saw. There was one particular one that grabbed my heart and literally almost made me cry.



You can just feel the emotion breathe from this artwork. I find it powerfully sad.

If you ever get a chance to visit the McNay Art Museum, I highly recommend it.

Landscaping

Jerry and I have always been into landscaping. Our house in California was completely tricked out with trees, bushes, and occasional veggies. I have always loved having a lush, green yard. It's a team effort with us--we go together to buy the plants and Jerry plants most of the stuff with me helping. lol

We carried the same viewpoint when we moved to Texas. And moving to our new house we had a huge yard to work with--almost a quarter of an acre all together between the front and back yard. All this yard had really planted in it was grass--that's it.

The first thing we bought to plant was an oak tree for the front side yard. We had a rude awakening with that tree. Jerry spent a day and a half trying to dig the hole for that tree. He learned the hard way what was under our yard--limestone rock. Lots of it. He wound up renting a jackhammer just to plant a tree. That was a first for us. Here is what it looked like when we were done.



The next step we did was to expand the look around the tree and add a retaining wall planter. Our goal is to minimize the lawn that needs to be watered and mowed. We bounced around different ideas until we came up with the following. We did all the work ourselves and saved a lot of money on labor. Although, I did get sunburnt and scratched the heck out of my hands.



We've since added a climbing rosebush in a huge container where the bench is and moved the bench to the side of the house. Today, we added three bottlebrush bushes/trees to the long left side by the wood retaining wall.



I've also tweaked the plants in the brick retainer wall planter. I originally planted rosemary and basil, alongwith other flowering plants. Today, I added parsley, thyme, sage and green onions.

I will try to take photos when I can so I show the newest additions. In the back yard, we have a real challenge to work with.



We have added two oak trees and one Chinese elm to the back yard, alongwith three crepe myrtles. Our big plan is to add a large back patio with a cover. We've had bids, but OMG, way out of our price range for now. We hope to do it piece by piece so we can more affordably accomplish our goals.

We try to go with native plants that are hardy, and I want to attract butterflies and hummingbirds. I like being able to plant my herbs and veggies in the planter up front. I don't have to worry about the dog getting anywhere near it. I am starting to dry my own herbs and make my own spice mixes with them.

There's always something to do or plant and we are having fun doing it. Man, I love it here.

Majestic Theater

San Antonio has many entertainment venues and one of the prettiest and most unique, in my opinion, is the Majestic Theater. Jerry and I saw it for the first time when we saw a comedy show. I was blown away with how elaborate the place is. I was used to the Fox Theater in Bakersfield and thought it was a nice theater, but the Majestic leaves the Fox Theater in the dust. At one point, the Majestic was the largest theatre in Texas.

But size aside, it is a beautiful theater. It has so many visuals to it I want to go back just to tour it without seeing an event.

It's hard for me to explain the interior, so I am just going to grab what they say on their web site.

Inspired by Spanish Mission, Baroque, and Mediterranean architectural traditions, theatre patrons are transported to a fantasy villa. Walls become towers with windows of colorful glass. A rare white peacock perches on a balcony railing as doves are caught in mid-flight. Grape vines creep along the walls and luscious foliage flourishes. The vaulted "sky" comes to life as stars twinkle while drifting clouds pass by overhead. Balconies, tile roofs, arches, and columns, railings, elaborate ornamentation, statues, and a bell tower all aid in the transformation of the theatre into a mystical village.





The acoustics are really great in the theater. And even the bathrooms are cool looking. lol It's classy elegance and a beautiful lady.

Jerry and I hope to buy tickets tomorrow to watch "Rain." They are the Beatle tribute band. We plan to make a night of it with dinner out and then the concert. I am looking forward to visiting the Majestic again.

Want to learn more? Check it out.

http://www.majesticempire.com/aboutMajestic.php

A Foodie Weakness

I am foodie. I love a good meal. One of the cool things about San Antonio is all the food options. We are quite spoiled with the restaurants around town. When we first visited in 2006, Jerry and I ate at a fast food restaurant called Whataburger. It was love at first bite for Jerry. He enjoyed their hamburgers. It reminded him of the way they used to make burgers when he was a kid.

For me, it was the chicken strips with white gravy. Texas was the first place I've ever bought a fast food meal that offered gravy. Until that point only KFC offered gravy with its mashed potatoes. Whataburger had it as a side for the chicken strips. I was so used to having sweet and sour sauce or barbecue. White gravy? Great concept.
I am so hooked on it. I know it's bad for me, but I can't help it. It tastes so dang good.

They dish is up with Texas toast on the side. Can you say, goodness personified? lol It offers up comfort. To me, fried chicken, white gravy and toast is old fashioned comfort. It's not the tofu, soybean, lettuce alternative. It's tasty goodness.

So, I'll just ride an extra mile on my bike. It's so worth it.

Quilting

My mama is an amazing quilter. As far back as I can remember she has been creative with her hands--quilting, crocheting, tatting, sewing, or embroidering. Her hands have always been busy. I still have a poncho she made for me when I was a kid. Crocheted in blue and white, my color choices at the time, and it's still wearable. What I love most of what's she created are her quilts. She comes from a long line of quilters. Her mother, grandmother and up the line have quilted. It's something she loves. At family reunions, like the photo above from the last one, they raffled off homemade quilts. It's a fierce battle between relatives as we all want to win the quilts.

When she moved back to Oklahoma, the thing she loved most was getting together with her aunt and cousins and quilting. They'd get together, sew and talk gossip and laugh. She loves her family. My great aunt Sadie is in her, gosh late 80s, and still sews a mean top piece.

I've tried to quilt. It's not my passion, since I'm as creative and talented as a duck in the desert. But I wanted to try what I could to share the process with my mama. I'd call her up with the questions and challenges I face as I attempt my first quilt. There's a bit of pressure on you when you have a woman in your life who is so dang talented. It is intimidating. But mama laughs and gives me advice. I've threatened to send her all the pieces I have just so she can shake her head over and laugh herself silly.

All this changed on Memorial Day. My mama had a stroke. She refused to go to the hospital for three days. Because of her Okie stubborness, she has residual damage that probably won't go away. Her left side is paralyzed. She can't use her left hand or leg. She went through rehab and now is in a nursing facility near her home. My dad visits her every day.

Mama can't quilt anymore. Nothing has broken my heart more than the thought of her not being able to keep her hands busy. To create beautiful quilts that express how creative she is and to know she can not do it anymore is a crime.

I haven't had the heart to go into my sewing room since her stroke. My enthusiasm has dimmed. I can never be as wonderful at quilting as my mama has been. She is a true artist.

I love you, mama.

A baby's smile

I love a baby's smile. It's so real and joyful. No regrets, nothing fake or insincere. It's from the heart and so wonderful. I especially love the smile of my grandson, Gabriel. He has a way of smiling that just lights my soul. I never thought I could love a child more than I loved my own sons, but Gabriel brings even more love out of me. I am so looking forward to each day to watch him grow up.

I can't wait until my sons have more children. Having babies around is the joy of my life. I love holding them, feeding them, playing with them and rocking them to sleep. To have them smile at me .... it's a gift from God.

I'm grateful for every second I get with them. Maybe you'll be lucky and have a baby smile at you.

Museums

There are many museums in San Antonio and I haven't seen as many as I'd like. The one that I want to see next is the McNay Art Museum. I keep hearing about it on the local news and it peaks my interest. I love art and I believe this place has exhibits that will inspire me.

For those who haven't heard about it, check this out:
http://www.mcnayart.org/#/history/

The grounds look beautiful and I think it would be a nice way to spend a Sunday afternoon. I just have to talk Jerry into visting it. Hummmm....must think... lol

Buckhorn Saloon and Museum

I've been to many museums over the years, but one of the strangest for me was visiting the Buckhorn Saloon and Museum in San Antonio. It's been in continuous operation since 1881. Founder Albert Friedrich opened his doors and offered up a a bargain, "Bring in your deer antlers and you can trade them for a shot of whiskey or a beer." That was the birth of a really unique museum/bar.

This place is a trip. According to the Saloon's web page. "This is where it all started...where Teddy Roosevelt recruited Rough Riders and Pancho Villa is rumored to have planned the Mexican Revolution. Many of the original furnishings still grace today's Buckhorn Saloon, including the back bar which was hand-crafted of marble and cherry wood."

There are horns of all shapes and sizes and animal trophy heads are mounted on all walls of the business. I've never seen so many dead critter parts in one place in my life. It was a bit disconcerting to eat lunch under the watchful glare of deceased animals.



The place boasts that it is five museums in one place. We just visited the bar area and had lunch. We plan to go back and see the other museums which include Fins, Feathers, The Hall of Texas History Wax Museum and the Texas Ranger Museum.

I have to say they do have the strangest gift store I've seen. It has odd animal pieces for sale along with the usual fare. Bones, candy, doohickeys and whatnots. I am going back there to do some Christmas shopping for funky things to put in stockings. lol I can't wait to see the kid's faces when they open up their stocking gifts.

I did love sitting at the back bar and imagining what it was like when Teddy, Pancho Villa, Will Rogers or Henry O sat at the exact same bar and had a drink. In between daydreaming about the past, I found myself apologizing to the trophy heads.

I'm sucker for sad eyes.