Howdy Y'all!

Seth said to me awhile back that he rather missed Carolina Barbecue, so I looked up the recipe for the sauce and found a hushpuppy recipe that didn't involve buttermilk. I already had the canned potatoes from "the Place" and so this last Sunday I put some pork chops (gasp! blasphemy! for all you true Carolina guys) in the crock pot (I know! I know it's not authentic!!) with some pepper and onions. After church they were tenderly delicious. In one big flurry, we got the sauce made, microwaved the potatoes and green beans, and deep-fried the hushpuppies. Deep-frying on a whim, you say? Yes, and it came out REALLY WELL.

Here are the recipes for a heart-of-the-Rockies-Carolina-Barbecue-Feast:

Meat: pork something, grilled until tender, smoked until tender or crock-potted until tender.

Barbecue Sauce: Jack Daniels Old Time Cookbook Version 2 from homecooking.about.com

2 c. white vinegar
1 T. cayenne pepper
1/2 t. black pepper

We used this recipe because we already had all the stuff for it, except we used crushed red pepper instead of cayenne. We had the cayenne, too. I'm just saying. Also, open the windows while you're bringing it to a boil and simmering for 10 minutes because it is ZINGY.

Hush Puppies: from the cookbook River Road Recipes, published by the Junior League of Baton Rouge, from 1959 to 1969. Recipe from Mrs. Robert Bowlus.

1 c. cornmeal
1 t. baking powder
1 t. salt
1 t. sugar
1 c. flour
1 egg
3/4 c. milk
dash red pepper
chopped green onion tops
1 T. grated onion

Sift dry ingredients into bowl. Beat egg, add milk, and add this to cornmeal mixture. Add onion and red pepper. Drop by spoonful in hot deep fat (375 F) and fry until brown. Should you like a lot of crust, these may be patted flat. This makes approximately two dozen. While there is a great deal of speculation as to the origin of hush puppies, there should be no speculation on the tastiness of these.

Except that I omitted the green onion tops and used onion powder for the grated onion. Next time I might double the baking powder because I think mine's not acting as well as it used to. Plus I scooped them out with the little mini P-Chef scoop and they came out SO CUTE and roundy.

So you get the hot pups and the pork-n-sauce on the table, get the canned potatoes and green beans out of the micro, put the white bread on the table, pop open some cole-slaw you got at "the Place" and chow! Too bad we don't drink sweet tea!

What Does It Mean?

So I just walked by Jules' room and she was in there, in classic Kid Mode, playing dolls. She was doing the voices and the different characters and everything. And it got me thinking.

They say that kids' play is practice for social situations and growing up. And it makes sense, to see Jules in there playing dolls and loving her little ones, and imagining her growing up and being a good mother from all her practice.

The question is this: if Jules practices for motherhood by playing with dolls, then what is Eric practicing for when he spends hour upon hour building legos and Bionicles? What adult-hood practice is he getting, building so many robot monsters? Is it problem-solving? Is it preparation for his intended career: inventor? Or is it just something to pass the time and should I just be grateful it's not video games?

What does it all mean?!

What Russell Did Just Now

Oh. My. Gracious. Russ has been having a hard time lately. I believe it's because he's just turned three, and his whole world has been so tumultuous lately and a lot of good reasons, but also I fear that it's because he's secretly insane and will later have serious mental problems.

Anyway, he was over at the couch playing Little People and then he got out this HotWheels car wash thing and he was getting SO FRUSTRATED because the slide/ramp WOULDN'T STAY UP. He was stampling his little feet and screaminating and I was like, What? What?! I want to HELP you!! And he ended up just running away in frustration. This always happens in movies and on tv, but we weren't allowed to do it in my family growing up. So I let him go, to see what would happen. And what happened was, he put himself to bed. I just went down there and he was snuggled up under his favorite green blanket, hugging onto his favorite stuffed animal, Humphrey the camel. And he was totally calm. He just needed to get away, DANG IT. And now that I just peeked in there again, he's fast asleep. He put himself in for a nap when things got too hard. He really is my kind of boy after all.

The sad part is, that I have to wake him up in like five minutes to go drop him and all the other children off at the cousins so I can go for my post-cancer Endocrinologist appointment and get my Synthroid dose adjusted.

To the Chunky Girl in New York

Dear Chunky Girl,

Remember that, in the summer of what? 1982? 83? when we were both enrolled in that free-ish summer program at Colton elementary school? and my two big brothers were there also, and my little sister? Remember that? Well, do you remember the time you brought your boom box and while we were waiting for the doors to open, you played "Beat It" by Michael Jackson? Remember that? That was awesome.

At the time I didn't realize the song was by the King of Pop. But I did realize that it sounded REALLY COOL. That bonging and bomb-dropping at the beginning of the song caught my interest so that forever after that I thought of you and how cool that song was that you played for us doofy little nerd kids.

Several years ago my awesome husband Seth got me the album "Thriller" for Christmas. And when I got my ipod I ripped it onto there. And I would hardly ever listen to it. And then a couple weeks ago I got a Jones SO STRONG to listen to it, that I had to start it up RIGHT THEN. Chunky Girl, I still LOVE THIS SONG. Also, Billie Jean and Wanna Be Startin' Something and Thriller. In fact, I just created a new playlist on my ipod called Super Dance Favorites just for these songs. Also I put in Boogie Shoes and Saturday Night Fever.

So, Thank You, Chunky Girl. You opened up a fabulous musical realm for me, even though I didn't really enter that realm until 25 years later. Nerd, remember? Here's hopin' you're still rockin' out, Chunky Girl in New York.

Rock On!
Elizabeth

Having Fun on a Snow Day

We sent sledding this afternoon to take advantage of our huge snowfall. We're just now getting around to having our hot chocolates. I gave the packets to the big kids to open themselves. Jules RIIIIPS hers open, which usually makes it spray everywhere. This time it didn't. And her rip just happened to form a perfect spout on one side of the envelope for pouring the hot chocolate powder. And then my smart little dumpling proceeded to pour the powder out...

the other, more shredded side.

Make a Guess. Now Double It.

Did you see Amadeus? There's a part where Mozart is gleefully explaining his new piece of music to the Emperor and he wants the Emperor to guess how long he can keep up a certain musical thing. The Emperor guesses two minutes and then Mozart tells him to double it. And double it again. And the guess winds up being eight minutes, but Mozart's actual answer is 20 minutes. He's able to keep it up for 20 minutes.

So here's a fun game. I'll describe a certain medical thing and you guess how much it cost. Then I want you to double your guess. Then double it again. Then I'll tell you the real cost. This'll be fun.

So I went for my radioactive iodine treatment to finish curing my cancer. It involved me going to the hospital, having had nothing to eat all morning, and sitting in a chair. Then they took a blood sample to make sure I wasn't pregnant. Surprise! I wasn't. So then they told me all the precautions and warnings, and then the doctor came in and told me all the precautions and warnings. Then the little duder brought me a little tiny radioactive pill inside a vial inside a lead vessel. I swallowed the pill and they instantaneously ushered me out. Out! Get out, radioactive swine! And that's it. So now, do your guess. How much did the hospital charge me for this service: sitting in chair, having blood drawn for pregnancy test, counseling on side effects, and pill swallowage. Have your guess ready? Now double it. Now double that. Have your answer? And now I shall tell you the actual answer. The amount the hospital charged me for this hour-and-a-half service was:




















$8,000. Eight Thousand Dollars. Eight Grand. Eight-Zero-Zero-Zero. Lotta zeros, eh? Lotta buckage, eh? Musta been some FABULOUS counseling. Musta been a SUPER EXTRAORDINARY pill. It did cure what was left of my cancer, as far as we can tell, but eight THOUSAND bones?!!!? DANG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

DANG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

PS We do have insurance. We will not be payin' no $8000 dollars for this. Don't get me wrong. I'm super grateful to have been able to go radioactive for those weeks, and to have my cancer cured. But DANG!

A Birthday Gift

I spent my birthday at the hospital with little Scotty. Late that evening Seth came to visit us and he even brought me a couple birthday gifts. One of these gifts was a Klean Kanteen. I had asked a while back for some sort of steel drinkin' bottle. Not aluminum: Alzheimers. Not plastic: reproductive harm rumors and whatcetera. So, steel. And Seth somehow remembered and brought it to me on my birthday.

Mine is the blue one. I was worried that the steel would make the water taste all metallica, and also that the water would taste bad, like remember those metal canteens from Scout campouts and hikes? Remember the ugly ones with the stripey blanket stuff on the sides. Ewww. No WAY those are ever getting cleaned out. So that's what I was afraid of. But I've been pleasantly surprised. I fill it up with my delicious Aurora tap water and I drink...delicious Aurora tap water. No yuck metal taste, no mildewy grodiness. Crisp and clean, no caffeine.

In conclusion, I really like my Klean Kanteen. The doofy "K" spelling is mitigated for me by the fact that they spell Klean with an "ea" instead of two e's. So, thumbs up!