Jan 27, 2009

Sweet satisfaction . . .

Betty is the devil.

Somebody (me) made two desserts tonight. I found these great recipes on the Internet today on the Betty Crocker website. I had to make them. Both. At the same time. They come from two different food groups. The food group with chocolate and the one without.

Who doesn't love Betty?

Maybe I don't right now.

Betty has lots of great recipes on her site. Loaded with chocolate. I can't say no to chocolate....ever...it's a sickness. And I am sick....I fell under the Betty spell and ate my fill of "Warm Toasted Marshmallow S'mores Bars"...Man oh man...were they ever good. I had to keep eating them to make sure they were as good as I thought. They were.

Then I made "Oatmeal-Cranberry-Sour Cream Bars". There weren't enough calories in them so I added butterscotch chips to beef them up. I won't know how they taste until tomorrow. I had to show some restraint, or at least follow the directions to let them sit in the refrigerator for 2 hours. I'll leave them for the morning. I need something to look forward to...some reason to get up out of bed tomorrow...a reason to live...and those bars are my answer and reason I am looking forward to getting up at the crack of dawn.

Sweet dreams until tomorrow.

Jan 21, 2009

Sushi . . . hold the cake. . .

My favorite sister made this cool concoction for her hubby's birthday.
It's dinner and dessert in one savory bite. A sushi cake. Nothing tastes better than fish and chocolate, especially when you combine it with powdered sugar. It marries the flavors.

There's the birthday boy. That's a funnel on his head. There weren't any party hats hanging around the fire station. It's all work and no play for those guys.

This is the part where he made a wish. It won't come true. He is stuck with our family . . . forever and ever . . . Amen.

This is the deluxe version of the sushi cake. My sister can't stop making them. I can't wait for my birthday. I'm ordering the super deluxe boatload sushi cake special. I'll call it the "All- You-Can-Eat Sugar and Sushi Combo Platter." Yummy. . .

ps: The cake was delicious. It tasted just like chicken.

pps: No really...it was delicious. No fishy aftertaste.

ppps: In my serious voice: "Really, it was very, very delicious."

somebody stop me . . .

Jan 19, 2009

Letters. . .

I have been reading a really interesting book by Stella Tillyard titled: Aristocrats: Caroline, Emily, Louisa, and Sarah Lennox, 1740-1832 .

Caroline, Emily, Louisa and Sarah were sisters and most of the book was written using information gleaned from letters the sisters and other family members wrote to each other.

It got me thinking. What if my life was based on letters written by and to me?

Between my siblings the only correspondence someone might drum up for historical purposes might be a large note that had been taped on my bedroom door which simply said, "Stay Out!"

Perhaps they might find a single letter of apology to my oldest sister. It was an apology for reading her private diary. What can I say other than her life was much more exciting than mine. I was stuck at home watching "The Brady Bunch" on Friday nights while she was out on the town whooping it up, playing a rousing game of miniature golf at the local "Pitch and Putt" with her first boyfriend. The fact that I was eleven might have been why my life wasn't as exciting as hers and why I "had" to read her diary. "The Brady Bunch" only lasted half an hour. What else was I to do with the rest of the night as I waited up for her to come home? I'd say I used my time wisely. I learned a lot from that diary. I learned that . . . well . . . I'd like to tell you, but then again it was private. Only my sister and I know what is in that diary and that is one person too many if you ever have the occasion to ask her. I hope you don't. If you do though, just get her on the subject of her leather wedge sandals. I wore them. She didn't know then. She does now. She still can't believe I did that. It's a wonder to me too. My feet are 3 sizes larger than hers. I have very flexible toes that fold over nicely. Lucky me! It came in handy.

Another letter that might show up would be a letter from school. Most of them had a sentence written in red ink somewhere on the page. That sentence said something like, "Please have a parent sign this note so I know they received it and return it to school tomorrow." I have excellent forging skills thanks to those letters. I also have excellent penmanship thanks to all the hours of practice writing my mom's name over and over again. I hope none of those letters are still floating around. I have an excellent reputation to uphold in my adult life. No one would believe I ever received anything but glowing recommendations if you asked them. Please don't. I can't really be sure that everyone thinks that way.

Another letter that might show up is a fan letter I wrote to Bobby Sherman. Maybe there's another one to Donny Osmond and maybe there could possibly be one to David Cassidy. My mom had a surplus of carbon paper that was fun to use and smell. I hope those letters never materialize in my life's history. I wrote the same thing to all three of them and I'd hate to hurt their feelings. I bet David, Bobby and Donny are still wondering if they received the real deal or a carbon copy.

A love letter written to me from a young lad with a mad crush on me in my younger years might show up in my life's history. This love letter goes a little off track and mentions something about "Woodsy the Owl" and his slogan, "Give a hoot, don't pollute." I think that boy lives in a tree somewhere far from civilization and no longer communicates with humans so it's okay that I've written this here. Thanks Larry...for writing me my first love letter that also addressed the environment. It was both charming and educational. How many other gals can say that? And by the way, I do give a hoot.

There are many more letters that might show up. I'm sure those are the ones that sing my praises and contain glowing recommendations and compliment me to the point of embarrassment. I'm not so sure I want those letters to materialize because, "Good girls seldom make history."

Jan 10, 2009

I swear, it's true . . .

It's almost the anniversary of my dad's passing, so in his honor I'd like to share a few of his favorite sayings.

Most of his comments contained swear words. Descriptive adjectives had no place in his vocabulary. He preferred the colorful variety. Very colorful. The cover their ears so the kids don't hear variety. We don't know where this came from. His parents were very civilized people who never swore. Whenever my sister and I need a good laugh we channel our dad and call up one of his sayings.

For instance...

If my mom asked my dad to do too many things at once he would comment, "Jesus - Rose! (my mother's proper name) Why don't you tie a broom to my ass and I'll sweep as I go."

If we were trying to tell him a little white lie or make something up he would say, "Jesus - Baby! ( my proper name) Are you trying to blow smoke up my ass?"

If he didn't think someone was on the up and up he would say, "He doesn't know his ass from a hole in the ground."

The word ass seemed to be his form of a helping verb, a noun, and an adjective all rolled into one and oddly enough it worked for him.

Ironically - as his kids - we were not allowed to swear in any form. If we so much as said the word, "fart" which I still can't really say to this day without cringing -we would be given a taste of Tabasco, or the much dreaded bar of Dial soap to wash the bad words right out of our mouths. Over the years I grew to love the taste of Tabasco. Not so much the Dial soap.

When my dad died he was cremated and placed in a local cemetery. His final resting place happens to be in a very appropriate location. His marker and burial space is in a large oblong cement planter with red roses and a very pretty angel statue residing in the center of the garden. My dad's spot happens to be centrally located right under the rear-end of the angel. Whenever we visit we always say that he's probably looking down on us and saying, "You guys think you're really funny placing me at the ass-end of the angel, don't you!"

As a matter of fact, we do. And we know he would think it was funny too.

Here's to you Dad!