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Organized Labor

I realize the New Year isn’t quite here yet, but I’ve been stricken with the urge to throw out old things to make room for new and reorganize everything that’s left for maximum efficiency. I decided to start with the pantry — 1) because it’s a mess and 2) my closet is way to scary to attempt to conquer it alone.

I bought a new can organizer today and couldn’t wait to set it up. –Hold on– Did I just say I couldn’t wait to set up my CAN ORGANIZER???  Yup…I just reread it and it is every bit as lame as I thought.

Anyhow, so I’m setting up my nerdy can organizer when I run into a hitch. Why is nothing as easy as it should be? Granted…the can rack itself was a breeze to put together. Unfortunately, it’s three tiered height required the removal of one of my pantry shelves. This meant emptying out two entire shelves so there was enough room to turn the shelf on its side and slide it out.

With that accomplished it was now time to separate the wheat from the chaff. I read all the expiration dates as I went through. We will not discuss how many were expired — or how many expired in 2007. Suffice it to say, there’s definitely more room in the old pantry for more important things. Like the cookbooks I love to look at but rarely use. Now that’s a good use of space.

Incidentally, if you live in Birmingham, AL and cannot find canned corn at your grocery, I’m to blame. Apparently I have no less than 13 cans of unexpired corn in my pantry. Guess what the kids will be eating for dinner tomorrow?

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Hostess With the Mostess

So I had a little whing ding here last night, and could not believe how well it went. It was one of the first parties I’ve ever thrown where I managed to stay on top of food and drink while actually getting time to socialize myself. Usually, it’s only when everyone’s going home that I realize I haven’t slowed down enough to enjoy their company. Thankfully that was NOT the case last night.

My only regret? I forgot to take even ONE picture!!! Grrr!! But like Jason has said countless times, “You can either participate or you can document. You can’t do both.” And man did I participate last night. And in the end, I’ll take a headful of memories over a handful of pictures any day of the week. Love y’all!!

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Current Life Objective

Only comfortable shoes from here on in.*

*How I define being “Goal-Oriented.”

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Murphy’s Law

So whatever could go wrong did with my Southern Living Tiramisu recipe* that I’m serving up at my pre-Christmas Girls Only soiree tomorrow night. This is usually the quickest, easiest dessert in history, and I’ve made it countless times before. But perhaps because I haven’t whipped it up since this time last year, I’ve gotten a little rusty. Fortunately a last minute trip to Publix exactly 8 minutes before closing afforded me enough whipping cream to start the bungled bits over and the delicious result is now chilling happily in my refrigerator.

Note to my teenage nephews who went back for helping after helping last year in hopes of getting a buzz: Liqueur and Liquor are two very different things. Please consult a dictionary before tackling my next dessert — Black Bottom Pie with a touch of Myers’ Rum and a Ginger Snap Crust. All I have to do is find my cookbook from the Mobile Junior League — currently AWOL but it can’t have gone far.

Off to bed where I’ll lie awake half the night plotting where to put all the appetizers/wine/food/etc. I love a good party. Don’t you?

*This recipe fails to mention the need to cream the sugar and cream cheese before adding the whipping cream — something I know to do, but need to be reminded of when I’m in a hurry. That was mistake #1. Mistake #2 was beating the @#$% out of my whipping cream and winding up with something closer to a butter/skim milk blend. Like I said, I’m definitely a little rusty. As Jack says, “Mom’s not much of a cooker.”

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Almost Famous

One of my virtual friends (meaning we’ve never actually met, but I’m convinced I adore her in every way) was recently tapped for an interview — Bells of Bellsknits. I would be thrilled in case anyone out there is interested in interviewing a seriously addled mother of four. I don’t have much to offer — aside from a really rockin’ recipe for a Low Calorie Mojito — but I do try to make up for it in enthusiasm. But I digress…

Back to Bells…she was one of the first non-family members to notice my early attempts at blogging. She’s also a GREAT resource if you’re interested in starting a blog yourself and want to see how to do it right. Her content is always interesting — whether it’s original writing or photos. But be careful if you’re not a knitter, she might inspire you to try something new.

Congratulations, Bells! Just the first of many good things to come, I’m sure.

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Stoner Mom

8:30 Pour International Delights Caramel Macchiato creamer in my coffee. Revel in the delicious aroma. Realize there’s only a little left in the container, so dump the rest of it in my mug. Latte!

8:35 Realize I’m still staring at the whorls of creamer as they rise, swirl and dance across the surface of my coffee to an unheard, lazy rhythm. Why have I never noticed this before It’s amazing!

8:40 Find myself still staring at coffee cup. Houston, we have a problem.

8:40-8:41 Wrack my brain to figure why I’m behaving so oddly. Suddenly remember waking up with excruciating pain in my busted, tired, bursitis-eaten hip. Realize that perhaps taking a pain pill on an empty stomach was a bad idea.

8:41 to present — Determine a stoner’s life is not for me as I…

1) wasted 5 minutes searching for my laptop before remembering I also have a desktop computer,

b) Lost my precious coffee cup at least 4 times during the search

4) Found typing/list-making while high a near impossibility.

I’m going to drink more coffee now in hopes of regaining my fine-motor function. Note to self: Tylenol only from here on in.

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Belated Thanksgiving

Although I’m a day late, I would like to say how thankful I am for my wonderful family…and tunic shirts with leggings. Thanks to this helpful fashion trend I can put my tummy tuck off indefinitely. But mostly I’m thankful for my family…honestly.

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Here Comes Santa Claus

Guest Blogger: Angie Mizzell

For as long as I can remember, I have understood and celebrated the true meaning of Christmas. But even as a little girl, I noticed how Santa seemed to upstage the baby Jesus. The Son of God born of a virgin in a manger… a miracle I never doubted. But ol’ St. Nick had a Hollywood type of charm, and by Christmas Eve, he had stolen the show.

My dad would ratchet up my excitement, pointing to the red glow in the sky (which was probably pollution). “Hey, Angie, look! There’s Santa Claus! He’s coming.” How did this magical fat man fit all the toys for every boy and girl in the entire world in his sleigh and deliver them in one night? I was awestruck and amazed.

At bedtime, I’d crawl under the covers and lay frozen until dawn. Mom said if Santa caught me peeking, he’d take my toys away. She never told me not to move, but still, I barely breathed.

At the first light of day, I’d dash down the hall and shriek, “He came! He came!” I’d survey my toys and then run into my parent’s room. “Dad, you’ll never guess what Santa brought! A Barbie house, a record player…”

“No way. I don’t believe it,” he answered in a sleepy voice, playing along. Of course, I had no idea Santa had stayed up a little too late, having a few Christmas cocktails.  I was a bona fide believer.

When bigger kids told me Santa wasn’t real, my faith wasn’t shaken. “Do you think my parents could afford to buy me a bike, a Brooke Shields Fashion Face, AND a My Pretty Pony? I don’t think so!”

Then one year, the magic went away. I walked in the garage on Christmas evening and saw empty boxes that had previously held my toys. If my toys came from Santa’s workshop, what’s with all the boxes? I asked my mom about it, and the look on her face said everything. Santa’s cover was blown.

From that year on, my parents thought Christmas was Totally Boring. And it was my fault for no longer believing in Santa Claus. I continued to torture my mom as my husband and I dated for five years before getting married, and then waited another five to have kids.

Now, finally. Santa’s back. Christmas is fun again. I’m already rehearsing my speech the day my oldest son discovers it’s all a big sham and ruins it for his younger brother. I will remind them of the true meaning of Christmas. I will share the history of Kris Kringle and how believing in Santa is just a fun way to keep the spirit and magic of the Christmas season alive.

Then, it will be my turn to start counting the days until I get some grandchildren.

You can pay Angie a visit at her blog, Under the MAC.

Posted in Family & Relationships.


Turkey Surprise

Today’s post comes courtesy of the lovely and talented, Robin O’Bryant. Her musings (and rants) never fail to entertain and spending time reading through her site is always better than working. I know you’ll enjoy her account of a Turkey Day she’ll never forget — no matter how hard she tries. Thanks, Robin!

My mother slid the cornbread dressing into the oven as my sister and I chopped vegetables and stirred pots. The turkey was almost done and we could hear the sounds of football and male conversation drifting in from the den as my Grandaddy, brother, husband and uncle attempted to stay out of the way. My petite and very proper, Southern Baptist grandmother was dressed in her Sunday best and chatting with us as we prepared our Thanksgiving feast.

I took a moment to pause, mentally, and appreciate the beauty of what we were sharing. Three generations of women, gathered around the stove and giving thanks for all the blessing we enjoyed. I became a little teary as I realized that my grandparents were getting older and that one day, this crystal clear moment would fade to a hazy memory.

The channel changed in the next room and now instead of hearing Sports Center, we began overhearing Fox News reporters discussing President Bill Clinton’s recently discovered indiscretion.

“Mmm, it’s just shameful,” Momma said as she stirred the gravy.

My sister and I nodded in agreement as my grandmother said in her very Southern drawl, “I cain’t believe he had oral sex in the Oval Office. What is this world coming to?”

I lost consciousness after that, but awoke certain that this particular Thanksgiving would never fade into the recesses of my mind. And for that, I am thankful.

Robin O’Bryant
www.robinschicks.com
www.moultrienews.com
http://christianladies.net/magazine/

Posted in Family & Relationships, Uncategorized.

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Another Link in the Chain

Today’s post is part of an ongoing blog tour. You’ll find it featured today on the sites of these talented women (Angie, Lori, Robin) along with their own original work. Take the time to drop in and meet someone new today. But while you’re here, I hope you enjoy reading “Another Link in the Chain.”

Paper chains. Whose bright idea was it to make paper chains?

“Take the glue stick out of your hair Will,” I say for at least the tenth time.

“Mom! Mine won’t stick together!” Jack whines. “I just can’t DO IT!”

“Babe, remember to put the paper through the last loop before you stick it together. O.k.?”

“Okaaay,” he reluctantly agrees, and laboriously slides a purple strip of paper through the end of his sticky, lopsided chain. Carefully he presses the ends together, and tries to wiggle his fingers loose. “Hey!!” he whines in surprise. “I’m stuck, Mom!”

I help separate him from his chain, and we both heave a sigh of relief to see the chain is still intact. He holds his work up triumphantly, all 2 feet of it. “Mine’s the longest!” he crows.

And in an instant, I’m five years old again.

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“Jodi, stop eating the popcorn,” Mama says for at least the tenth time.

Still munching, I pick up the next piece and try to slide it over the needle and onto the red string behind. It gets stuck on the kernel.

“Mom!! It won’t go! I just can’t DO THIS!” I whine.

“Try to push it through the soft part, baby.”

Mama takes the kernel off, and reinserts it the right way. Letting me take it from there, she watches as I finally succeed in pushing it down to join the straggly ranks of its crushed and mangled compatriots.

“Is it long enough yet?” I wonder.

Mama examines the pitiful length of popcorn chain I present her. “Well…maybe if we join it with Bubba’s it will be ready for the tree.”

I look over at my brother’s perfect work. He’s been quietly and carefully stringing kernel after kernel the whole time Mama’s been helping me along. And now he has an impressive length of garland to show for it. I glance back at the string I’ve worked so hard to create and contemplate how long it will take me to make it long enough to go around the tree all by itself. We planned to sing carols around the piano when we finished. And isn’t Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer coming on t.v. tonight? Suddenly, the choice is easy.

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“Let’s put ‘em all together!” Jack shouts. “Then we’ll have a MONSTER big chain!” His brothers chorus an agreement as they generally do when Jack has a Great Idea.

I help everyone link to each other’s chain and we all ooh and aah over the wonder of our finished work. I pray it will hold together long enough for them to lose interest.

“Mom, can we watch our Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer DVD?” Jack asks.

“No!” Will screams. “Dat scare me!”

“Snow White scare you, Will,” Tom reminds him. “Not Rudolph.”

“Oh,” Will says, as his brothers scamper away to find the DVD.

He reaches up to take my hand and asks hopefully, “You sing Thomas da Train song?”

I scoop him up for a hug and sing the opening theme of his Thomas the Train video as we head off to join his brothers. Old memories and new meet and mingle in my head leaving a warm glow in their wake. It’s Christmas time. And it truly is the most wonderful time of the year.

Have a wonderful holiday season everyone!

Posted in Family & Relationships, Kids, Parenting, Uncategorized.