Twas the "weak" before Christmas
And out on my porch
I was watching intently
For the "Ups" man of course.
The stockings were hung
On the old family hutch
With no fireplace for us
This will work in a clutch.
With me in my apron
Just baking away
The cookies and breads
For our big family day.
The presents were wrapped
With the ribbon and bows
The music was playing
Ahh yes, it's my zone.
Then all of a sudden,
my dogs start to chatter.
I rose from my chair
To see what was the matter.
I ran to the parlor,
Threw open the door.
I knew he was coming
Who the present was for.
Then what to my wandering eyes
Did I see?
That big old brown truck
He was parked by my tree.
I jumped off the porch
And I ran to his side
I signed my John Hancock
And my smile did not hide.
He might have worn brown
And his tummy didn't jiggle.
But I knew in my heart
He was really Kris Kringle.
I carefully carried
the box with such glee.
And put it down gently,
cause this one's for me!!
I turned and I waved
And I bid him adieu
I knew in my heart,
He had plenty to do.
Yet I heard him exclaim
as he drove down my road.
"Merry Christmas to all,
I have finished my load".
Monday, December 28, 2009
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Livin' Velvetta Loco
Saaaayyyy Cheese !!!! It's such a cute little way to make you smile for a photo op. Everyone says it. No matter where you travel in the world, when someone says those magic words "Say cheese" everybody turns to the camera and displays their pearly whites. I bet you can't think of one professional photographer who doesn't pull this little verbiage out of his pocket when he is trying to get that "just so perfect" picture. Big smiles for all. I mean, after all, who doesn't like cheese?
As a young mother, I found that I could pretty much put a slice of this delectable stuff in a sandwich and my kids would scarf it down. Want them to eat their broccoli? Melt some of it over the steaming hot vegetable and it is gone in seconds. Sprinkle it from a jar and make your plain old spaghetti the hit of the night. Burgers, french fries, even salads have been adorned with this wonder of all wonders. Appetizers of fried cheese are on menus accompanied with marinara sauce for dipping. Toasted cheese sandwiches with a hot bowl of soup. Huge baked potatoes with melted cheese dripping down the sides with another favorite. Butter. Ahh the wonderful memories of it all.
My mom always makes this awesomely wonderful Asparagus Casserole for Thanksgiving and Christmas. It is baked to a perfect done-ness and then at the last minute she takes the cover off and lets the cheese get this golden crispy brown. It is to die for. The recipe calls for the juice from the cans of asparagus being stirred and heated with a jar of the Cheese Whiz for the sauce. Then you dice up 1/2 a dozen hard boiled eggs and a bunch of saltine crackers smashed ever so fine and layer it all in a baking dish. Can't ya just FEEL your arteries clogging up as you read this???? I know now why it only gets made at the holidays. We would all be wearing pacemakers from the heart attacks if she made it more.
I sometimes ask myself "when did the change happen to me"? You know. At what point did the "I can eat whatever I want and never put on a pound" change to "Oh my gosh.....those pants are WHAT size?" This shouldn't happen to anyone. How I am suppose to convince my children to eat their cheese-laden broccoli spears when I am forced to look them in the eye and tell them "well, I am watching my weight so I can't have cheese". I mean come on !!!! As a mother it is my responsibility to teach by example right? After all, when we decided to have children we made a commitment to them. To teach them, show them, and that's right, eat the same things that we want them to eat. It's my job. I should EAT the cheesy gooey yummy broccoli to show them how it is done. Right? Right? RIGHT?
These last few months, Mii and my Wii have been paying attention to the little things. You know. The calories. Now I am not saying that I never eat cheese anymore. No, no, no. But I do try to eat it less often. It's kind of like a trade off. I don't consume too much cheese and my hips feel better in the morning. It's not really so bad. With the children grown and living on their own now, the pressure to set a good example at the dinner table has been averted. We now add just a smidgen of seasoned salt to our veggies for that "oh.....so almost good" flavor. After all. We are adults. We don't need to cover up the wholesome natural flavor of our vegetables anymore right? We can handle the taste of any ol' steamed vegetable and at least LOOK like we're enjoying it naked. What's that honey? The grand-kids are coming to spend the night with us? Wooo Hooo! Break out the Cheese Whiz and buttered popcorn. I feel a good example coming on.
As a young mother, I found that I could pretty much put a slice of this delectable stuff in a sandwich and my kids would scarf it down. Want them to eat their broccoli? Melt some of it over the steaming hot vegetable and it is gone in seconds. Sprinkle it from a jar and make your plain old spaghetti the hit of the night. Burgers, french fries, even salads have been adorned with this wonder of all wonders. Appetizers of fried cheese are on menus accompanied with marinara sauce for dipping. Toasted cheese sandwiches with a hot bowl of soup. Huge baked potatoes with melted cheese dripping down the sides with another favorite. Butter. Ahh the wonderful memories of it all.
My mom always makes this awesomely wonderful Asparagus Casserole for Thanksgiving and Christmas. It is baked to a perfect done-ness and then at the last minute she takes the cover off and lets the cheese get this golden crispy brown. It is to die for. The recipe calls for the juice from the cans of asparagus being stirred and heated with a jar of the Cheese Whiz for the sauce. Then you dice up 1/2 a dozen hard boiled eggs and a bunch of saltine crackers smashed ever so fine and layer it all in a baking dish. Can't ya just FEEL your arteries clogging up as you read this???? I know now why it only gets made at the holidays. We would all be wearing pacemakers from the heart attacks if she made it more.
I sometimes ask myself "when did the change happen to me"? You know. At what point did the "I can eat whatever I want and never put on a pound" change to "Oh my gosh.....those pants are WHAT size?" This shouldn't happen to anyone. How I am suppose to convince my children to eat their cheese-laden broccoli spears when I am forced to look them in the eye and tell them "well, I am watching my weight so I can't have cheese". I mean come on !!!! As a mother it is my responsibility to teach by example right? After all, when we decided to have children we made a commitment to them. To teach them, show them, and that's right, eat the same things that we want them to eat. It's my job. I should EAT the cheesy gooey yummy broccoli to show them how it is done. Right? Right? RIGHT?
These last few months, Mii and my Wii have been paying attention to the little things. You know. The calories. Now I am not saying that I never eat cheese anymore. No, no, no. But I do try to eat it less often. It's kind of like a trade off. I don't consume too much cheese and my hips feel better in the morning. It's not really so bad. With the children grown and living on their own now, the pressure to set a good example at the dinner table has been averted. We now add just a smidgen of seasoned salt to our veggies for that "oh.....so almost good" flavor. After all. We are adults. We don't need to cover up the wholesome natural flavor of our vegetables anymore right? We can handle the taste of any ol' steamed vegetable and at least LOOK like we're enjoying it naked. What's that honey? The grand-kids are coming to spend the night with us? Wooo Hooo! Break out the Cheese Whiz and buttered popcorn. I feel a good example coming on.
Friday, December 4, 2009
The Season's Greeting
I must admit that the Christmas season is one of my favorite times of year. I love all of the lights, the music, the cinnamon apple candles burning. It's just so.....oh you know.....Christmasey. It just puts a smile on my face to hear Linus recite his Christmas story for the 100th time. Or to laugh over and over as Ralphy gets told "You'll shoot your eye out!" No matter how many times I play my "Holiday Classics" CD, I never tire of the melodies. Ahhh....there is just something about it all.
The day after Thanksgiving is the day we decorate the house. Or should I say "I" decorate the house. My husband drags his big ol' ladder in and struggles to get it placed just right under the attic door. We have one of those funky ceiling doors that you tug on a rope and the door drops open, and behold......boxes and boxes and boxes.....did I tell you there were BOXES? I must say, I have been collecting Christmas decoration from around the world for years now. Well, maybe not around the world exactly, but from Dollar stores that are out of my area at least. Snowmen too numerous to count. But all so cute that I can't part with any of them. Big ones, small ones, some that are on pillows, some of them on throw blankets. Towels, plates, coffee cups. It's like Frosty himself has brought his entire family to reside at my house for the duration of the winter.
The entire weekend is spent with Christmas music playing and me "ho-ho-ho-ing" merrily along.
I remember in California, the weather never really got very cold, so the first few winters here in Texas were a shock to me. As a matter of fact, the first real cold snap is still a shock to me. Last week I was contemplating crop pants, and this week I am looking to find the wool socks and warm jammies. The aroma of a big pot of chili cooking brings my guys to the table. After all, we have all worked hard to get the house looking wonderful. The outside lights are finished and the tree is ready for it's final addition of the candy canes. All is well in my holiday world.
That is until the dreaded winter clothing plastic tubs are placed within my sight. I am up to 4 of them now. Oh, trust me, it is not because I have so many cute holiday type sweaters. No, no, nooooo. It's because I have saved the different SIZES of those adorable, sparkly, I know-I-will- eventually-be-able-to-wear-this-again-sweaters !!!! It's like a sickness I tell you. I haven't been a size 4 since I don't know when, but this little voice in my head says "You never know.....wouldn't it just be a shame if you got rid of this oh so cute little sweater and next year you lost more weight than would be humanly possible to do and it mysteriously would have fit you"? Can I get an amen here????? I can't imagine that I am the only woman in the world who saves the improbable in hopes of accomplishing the near impossible. And then, to make myself feel even worse?????? I try them all on !!!! Oh the humility of it all. Why in the world I venture to think that a year in a plastic tub is going to somehow change the dimensions of those sweaters and pants is absolutely beyond me. But each year it's the same thing. Year after year after year. And then, exhausted, I lovingly fold them all up and place them gently back in their respective tubs to wait until the first chill the next year. Family traditions are so hard to break.
The day after Thanksgiving is the day we decorate the house. Or should I say "I" decorate the house. My husband drags his big ol' ladder in and struggles to get it placed just right under the attic door. We have one of those funky ceiling doors that you tug on a rope and the door drops open, and behold......boxes and boxes and boxes.....did I tell you there were BOXES? I must say, I have been collecting Christmas decoration from around the world for years now. Well, maybe not around the world exactly, but from Dollar stores that are out of my area at least. Snowmen too numerous to count. But all so cute that I can't part with any of them. Big ones, small ones, some that are on pillows, some of them on throw blankets. Towels, plates, coffee cups. It's like Frosty himself has brought his entire family to reside at my house for the duration of the winter.
The entire weekend is spent with Christmas music playing and me "ho-ho-ho-ing" merrily along.
I remember in California, the weather never really got very cold, so the first few winters here in Texas were a shock to me. As a matter of fact, the first real cold snap is still a shock to me. Last week I was contemplating crop pants, and this week I am looking to find the wool socks and warm jammies. The aroma of a big pot of chili cooking brings my guys to the table. After all, we have all worked hard to get the house looking wonderful. The outside lights are finished and the tree is ready for it's final addition of the candy canes. All is well in my holiday world.
That is until the dreaded winter clothing plastic tubs are placed within my sight. I am up to 4 of them now. Oh, trust me, it is not because I have so many cute holiday type sweaters. No, no, nooooo. It's because I have saved the different SIZES of those adorable, sparkly, I know-I-will- eventually-be-able-to-wear-this-again-sweaters !!!! It's like a sickness I tell you. I haven't been a size 4 since I don't know when, but this little voice in my head says "You never know.....wouldn't it just be a shame if you got rid of this oh so cute little sweater and next year you lost more weight than would be humanly possible to do and it mysteriously would have fit you"? Can I get an amen here????? I can't imagine that I am the only woman in the world who saves the improbable in hopes of accomplishing the near impossible. And then, to make myself feel even worse?????? I try them all on !!!! Oh the humility of it all. Why in the world I venture to think that a year in a plastic tub is going to somehow change the dimensions of those sweaters and pants is absolutely beyond me. But each year it's the same thing. Year after year after year. And then, exhausted, I lovingly fold them all up and place them gently back in their respective tubs to wait until the first chill the next year. Family traditions are so hard to break.
Friday, November 20, 2009
They're Baaaaaaack !!!
Oh my gosh. I can't believe it. The most wonderful thing has happened. All of you young mothers out there, take heart. Your days of fussin' and fightin' with your children in the morning to get them dressed for school are over. Do you hear me? Jump for joy, because I saw the commercial. Garranimals are back.
In the early 70's (oh my goodness.....some of you were just babes yourselves), the most wonderful idea was born in the clothing department. They were called Garranimals. Does anyone remember these life savers? Mornings no longer held the dreaded "this doesn't match". Garranimals were MADE to match. And they were such fun to match up. Each animal was color coordinated for easy matching. Monkeys went with monkeys, giraffes with giraffes. The animal kingdom reigned supreme in our house. It was easy. It was fun. And face it....it was simple. No guess work. Look at the little picture on the tag on the collar of the shirt and then go to the closet and find the pair of pants that had the same animal. Anyone could dress their children for success. Ingenious I tell you.
I have never been one to mix and match my colors, or fabrics. Black shirt? Simple....black pants. Red pants? Easy. A matching red blouse. If I was really feeling bold the red blouse might have a different accent color in it. But let's not get crazy. Green with green, blue with blue. You get the idea right? It was simple really. A recipe for success. Well it was until recently.
As anyone who knows me well can attest, I love the color purple. My bowling ball and towel are purple. I have lots of shades of purple eyeshadow and scrunchies for my hair. Purple is for royalty. Purple is peaceful. Purple is the color that my Wii Mii wears. Except when she is working out.
Whose idea was it to put her in white. Have you seen what happens to us when wii wear white? I try not to ever outdo her with my mad wardrobe skills so I too gotten a white workout outfit. I would put it on in the morning to do my yoga routine with her. I boldly wore it while performing my advanced step with her. I wore it proudly. Until I actually saw myself in the mirror. Something was wrong. I did not look cute like shii did. White on white does not necessarily make cute on cute. I looked like a very bad version of a Pillsbury Dough boy. What was shii thinking? Shii should have told my Mii that Wii didn't look our best. It should have come from her BEFORE I got a full view of myself in the bedroom mirror. The gasp that escaped from me could be heard blocks away. The look of a wet marshmallow was not what I was going for.
So.......I realize that the Garranimal look might not be for everyone. Oh your young mothers should still do yourself a favor and stock up on them. Save your stress for the things that really matter in life. Bill collectors and telemarketers that call just when you get those precious babies down for a much needed nap. For me? I am going to put on my blue jammie bottoms with my blue jammie top. You know....the one with the cute little monkeys on it.
In the early 70's (oh my goodness.....some of you were just babes yourselves), the most wonderful idea was born in the clothing department. They were called Garranimals. Does anyone remember these life savers? Mornings no longer held the dreaded "this doesn't match". Garranimals were MADE to match. And they were such fun to match up. Each animal was color coordinated for easy matching. Monkeys went with monkeys, giraffes with giraffes. The animal kingdom reigned supreme in our house. It was easy. It was fun. And face it....it was simple. No guess work. Look at the little picture on the tag on the collar of the shirt and then go to the closet and find the pair of pants that had the same animal. Anyone could dress their children for success. Ingenious I tell you.
I have never been one to mix and match my colors, or fabrics. Black shirt? Simple....black pants. Red pants? Easy. A matching red blouse. If I was really feeling bold the red blouse might have a different accent color in it. But let's not get crazy. Green with green, blue with blue. You get the idea right? It was simple really. A recipe for success. Well it was until recently.
As anyone who knows me well can attest, I love the color purple. My bowling ball and towel are purple. I have lots of shades of purple eyeshadow and scrunchies for my hair. Purple is for royalty. Purple is peaceful. Purple is the color that my Wii Mii wears. Except when she is working out.
Whose idea was it to put her in white. Have you seen what happens to us when wii wear white? I try not to ever outdo her with my mad wardrobe skills so I too gotten a white workout outfit. I would put it on in the morning to do my yoga routine with her. I boldly wore it while performing my advanced step with her. I wore it proudly. Until I actually saw myself in the mirror. Something was wrong. I did not look cute like shii did. White on white does not necessarily make cute on cute. I looked like a very bad version of a Pillsbury Dough boy. What was shii thinking? Shii should have told my Mii that Wii didn't look our best. It should have come from her BEFORE I got a full view of myself in the bedroom mirror. The gasp that escaped from me could be heard blocks away. The look of a wet marshmallow was not what I was going for.
So.......I realize that the Garranimal look might not be for everyone. Oh your young mothers should still do yourself a favor and stock up on them. Save your stress for the things that really matter in life. Bill collectors and telemarketers that call just when you get those precious babies down for a much needed nap. For me? I am going to put on my blue jammie bottoms with my blue jammie top. You know....the one with the cute little monkeys on it.
Minding the P's and Q's
One of the nice things about residing in Texas, is that we actually experience seasonal weather changes. Being a native of California, this is quite a phenomenon. There is just something special about that first morning when I grab my cup of coffee and go outside and notice, with much awe and relief, that I am not dripping wet from the Texas heat. You gotta admit......we know heat. And I am not talking about a spicy Tex-Mex dish. I am talking about being able to fry an egg on the back porch by about 9 am throughout the summer. Good night Agnes it gets hot here.
But then.......around September, after all of those summer storms have made their way through our town, a blessed relief comes. We call it Fall. Cooler temps and bluer skies. Afternoon iced tea is slowly replaced with the occasional cup of coffee. Instead of the grill being fired up every night, we actually turn the oven on again and bake a roast or a meatloaf. After all, if it below 90 degrees Fall must be just a few weeks away.
Personally, I like the cold weather. I just can't get naked enough in the summer without offending the neighbors. I hate sweating. It's just so......oh I don't know......eeky. With the cooler weather I can cover things up that shouldn't really be visible anyway. It just makes good sense. I follow the rule "If you've got too much of it, for heavens sake cover it up".
The only problem I have had of late with the weather cooling off is pantyhose. Why oh why were these abominations created. To taunt me? To suffocate me? To totally humiliate me????
Last winter, I decided to wear a skirt to the office. Sooooooo, I got into the treasure drawer of undergarments and dug out a new pair of pantyhose. Now they seemed a smidge hard to get into but I attributed that to still being "damp" from my shower. This particular day I was up and down up and down multiple times. In the early afternoon I noticed that the back of my legs were tired and achy. I convinced myself it was because I had been up and down so much and I was just getting tired. Then I noticed that my legs were almost feeling numb. I must admit I got concerned. I kind of stretched a bit and sat up a bit straighter to relieve the pressure I was feeling and continued working. Finally I couldn't stand the pain anymore and stood up and started to rub the top of my legs. It was then I discovered this huge lump on my rump. What the heck. I made my way to the ladies room and discovered (with much embarrassed laughter) that my pantyhose had decided that they would roll down and they were cutting off my circulation!!!! I was stunned. Shocked. By gosh I was taking those pantyhose back because obviously they were flawed.
Just exactly what DO those letters stand for on the inside of the pantyhose? I am a "P" I tell you. A "P". Why in the world would a company that I have faithfully bought pantyhose from for all of these years suddenly change the size dimensions without telling me. Is this some kind of a cruel joke? What? What did you say? A"P" is only for women of smaller stature? As in height only? I am a "Q"????? Are you serious? The "Q" pantyhose were made with women like me in mind? The letter "Q" comes after the letter "P" for a reason? I should have been warned. Nothing like this should just be sprung on a person. I needed time to prepare. A "Q" huh.
My Wii Mii and I decided after that incident to try to get back to being a "P". Oh Wii know it will take some time and dedication. Hey, that "Q" didn't happen overnight. But, as a team, Wii will change things. But for now? I am going to be the best "P" I can, inside the body of a "Q".
But then.......around September, after all of those summer storms have made their way through our town, a blessed relief comes. We call it Fall. Cooler temps and bluer skies. Afternoon iced tea is slowly replaced with the occasional cup of coffee. Instead of the grill being fired up every night, we actually turn the oven on again and bake a roast or a meatloaf. After all, if it below 90 degrees Fall must be just a few weeks away.
Personally, I like the cold weather. I just can't get naked enough in the summer without offending the neighbors. I hate sweating. It's just so......oh I don't know......eeky. With the cooler weather I can cover things up that shouldn't really be visible anyway. It just makes good sense. I follow the rule "If you've got too much of it, for heavens sake cover it up".
The only problem I have had of late with the weather cooling off is pantyhose. Why oh why were these abominations created. To taunt me? To suffocate me? To totally humiliate me????
Last winter, I decided to wear a skirt to the office. Sooooooo, I got into the treasure drawer of undergarments and dug out a new pair of pantyhose. Now they seemed a smidge hard to get into but I attributed that to still being "damp" from my shower. This particular day I was up and down up and down multiple times. In the early afternoon I noticed that the back of my legs were tired and achy. I convinced myself it was because I had been up and down so much and I was just getting tired. Then I noticed that my legs were almost feeling numb. I must admit I got concerned. I kind of stretched a bit and sat up a bit straighter to relieve the pressure I was feeling and continued working. Finally I couldn't stand the pain anymore and stood up and started to rub the top of my legs. It was then I discovered this huge lump on my rump. What the heck. I made my way to the ladies room and discovered (with much embarrassed laughter) that my pantyhose had decided that they would roll down and they were cutting off my circulation!!!! I was stunned. Shocked. By gosh I was taking those pantyhose back because obviously they were flawed.
Just exactly what DO those letters stand for on the inside of the pantyhose? I am a "P" I tell you. A "P". Why in the world would a company that I have faithfully bought pantyhose from for all of these years suddenly change the size dimensions without telling me. Is this some kind of a cruel joke? What? What did you say? A"P" is only for women of smaller stature? As in height only? I am a "Q"????? Are you serious? The "Q" pantyhose were made with women like me in mind? The letter "Q" comes after the letter "P" for a reason? I should have been warned. Nothing like this should just be sprung on a person. I needed time to prepare. A "Q" huh.
My Wii Mii and I decided after that incident to try to get back to being a "P". Oh Wii know it will take some time and dedication. Hey, that "Q" didn't happen overnight. But, as a team, Wii will change things. But for now? I am going to be the best "P" I can, inside the body of a "Q".
Saturday, October 3, 2009
C for Mii
Coughs and colds. Sniffles and sneezes. It happens every year at this time in towns across the world. Seasonal allergies and simple colds. Feed a cold starve a fever. Extra doses of vitamin C. Sometimes I feel like I should buy stock in Kleenex. Why has there never been a true remedy for these simple germs?
While it is true that most of us cowboy up and suffer through these seemingly endless days of hacking and coughing, there are those who actual heed the advise of mothers long ago who declared "stay home and stay in bed"! Why do we attempt to tough it out and go about our days in misery. Usually, I must point out, sharing not only the misery, but the ill-laden germs with others. Do we secretly wish those around us to feel as crummy as we do? And for heavens sake. Why does everyone in the office stop by MY desk with a drippy nose to get a tissue. What????? I am the only one in the entire office that buys these handy sneeze catchers?
Think about it. If everyone would stay home when they were sick, then the rest of us could muddle through and just get the job done. But NO. In you come to work, dragging your woebegone chin on the floor looking to tell anyone that will listen how crummy you feel. The whole time that you are talking, you are spewing vile germs into my workspace. Doncha care about me at all?
I have decided that you won't win. No, no, no. I am going to fight back. Germs and flu bugs be gone. What better way to feel good than to take some extra vitamin C and exercise more. My Wii Mii agrees. We can fight this and win Shii said. It just takes a little common sense and that, Shii has plenty of. Actually, I think it has helped. I haven't coughed or sneezed this whole season. And Shii no longer says the dreaded word "obese" to my Mii anymore. How great is that. Every time I see her she has a smile on her face and a healthy glow to her skin.
I am not afraid to go out in public. Those bad germs won't get ahold of Mii. I am lookin' good and feelin' good. Yes sir. We are on the move. A thinner, more healthy Mii now occupies that office space. As a matter of fact, Wii may even go to the State Fair this year. I've got nothing to fear being in a crowd. Besides, I hear that the new food offerings go hand in hand with the season. We deep fry everything. This year it's butter. Who new that was even possible. Well, never fear. If you are leery abut being out where there are lots of sick folks breathing their germs all over you, you don't have to fear the State Fair.
While it is true that most of us cowboy up and suffer through these seemingly endless days of hacking and coughing, there are those who actual heed the advise of mothers long ago who declared "stay home and stay in bed"! Why do we attempt to tough it out and go about our days in misery. Usually, I must point out, sharing not only the misery, but the ill-laden germs with others. Do we secretly wish those around us to feel as crummy as we do? And for heavens sake. Why does everyone in the office stop by MY desk with a drippy nose to get a tissue. What????? I am the only one in the entire office that buys these handy sneeze catchers?
Think about it. If everyone would stay home when they were sick, then the rest of us could muddle through and just get the job done. But NO. In you come to work, dragging your woebegone chin on the floor looking to tell anyone that will listen how crummy you feel. The whole time that you are talking, you are spewing vile germs into my workspace. Doncha care about me at all?
I have decided that you won't win. No, no, no. I am going to fight back. Germs and flu bugs be gone. What better way to feel good than to take some extra vitamin C and exercise more. My Wii Mii agrees. We can fight this and win Shii said. It just takes a little common sense and that, Shii has plenty of. Actually, I think it has helped. I haven't coughed or sneezed this whole season. And Shii no longer says the dreaded word "obese" to my Mii anymore. How great is that. Every time I see her she has a smile on her face and a healthy glow to her skin.
I am not afraid to go out in public. Those bad germs won't get ahold of Mii. I am lookin' good and feelin' good. Yes sir. We are on the move. A thinner, more healthy Mii now occupies that office space. As a matter of fact, Wii may even go to the State Fair this year. I've got nothing to fear being in a crowd. Besides, I hear that the new food offerings go hand in hand with the season. We deep fry everything. This year it's butter. Who new that was even possible. Well, never fear. If you are leery abut being out where there are lots of sick folks breathing their germs all over you, you don't have to fear the State Fair.
This year's newest addition is Deep Fried Hand Sanitizer
Who knew?????
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Texas Tried and True
I have noticed that people are flocking to Texas. Could it be the fabulous weather? Could it be the hill-less landscape? Could it be the big hair? Nah!!!! What about all the bling we wear? Or those snake skinned boots the cowboys wear? Or that down home country music that plays in all of the local honky tonks. Nope. It is none of these. I have been here now for 16 years and after doing much research I have found the answer to why people move here and why people stay here. It's the deep fried food !!!!
Each year at the Texas State Fair there is a contest to see who will come up with the best and most creative culinary fare. People from far and wide come and stroll around the fair grounds sampling all of the goodies that these fine folks come up with. Thousands of people walking around in a Homer Simpson daze as they sample the different treats. I have never seen so many happy contented people in one area. Texans love their food and by gosh they love it done right. And that means "deep fried". Oh yeah!!!
Back in California, we would go to Disneyland and the treat of the day would be a funnel cake. Can't you just smell it as you read this? After it was fried just right and placed on a paper plate, they would sprinkle, no pour, the powdered sugar all over it. We would take it and sit down on one of the benches and pull it apart and eat it while it was still so warm it almost burned your mouth. It had just the right amount of crunch to it, yet the grease made it moist. Your fingers would be covered in this ooey gooey sugary mess. Those were the good old days.
I really thought that no one would be able to top that. There couldn't possibly be anything better on a cool autumn night that the delectable funnel cake. But I was a foreigner in the land of deep frier's. I had no earthly idea how many "things" could be deep fried to make them on the cutting edge of the cuisine. I am in Texas now, and it became my quest to seek all that this beautiful state had to offer. I traveled through the cities and tasted the foods that Texas so love. Fried catfish, Chicken Fried Steak. They even have Chicken Fried Chicken for those opposed to red meat. Aren't we thoughtful. I even had to join O. A. after we had been here for a few months. I am sure that you know someone who is a member as well? Okra Eaters Anonymous. I had never even had that in California. I was so hooked on it. Every restaurant we went to had to be a buffet so that I could get fried okra. It took months of therapy to finally kick the habit.
A couple years ago, we went to the State Fair with some friends. NEVER go anywhere with friends who can eat like there is no tomorrow. It is sooooo bad for your waistline. We visited every vendor to investigate what their magical deep friers were putting out. The choices were unbelievable. Deep fried Twinkies (come on now), deep fried cookie dough (saints be praised) and the winner of the prize..........deep fried peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Good night Agnes. They had me. It didn't even matter what kind of jelly they were using. A PB&J dipped in a sweet pancake batter and then gingerly dropped into the scalding hot grease and fried to a delicate yet crispy crunch?????? Oh Puh leese. What is there not to love about this state? If you are looking for a warm place to live, where the countryside is nice and level and the music makes you want to tap you toes.......have I got a town for you. But leave your Wii Mii at home.
Each year at the Texas State Fair there is a contest to see who will come up with the best and most creative culinary fare. People from far and wide come and stroll around the fair grounds sampling all of the goodies that these fine folks come up with. Thousands of people walking around in a Homer Simpson daze as they sample the different treats. I have never seen so many happy contented people in one area. Texans love their food and by gosh they love it done right. And that means "deep fried". Oh yeah!!!
Back in California, we would go to Disneyland and the treat of the day would be a funnel cake. Can't you just smell it as you read this? After it was fried just right and placed on a paper plate, they would sprinkle, no pour, the powdered sugar all over it. We would take it and sit down on one of the benches and pull it apart and eat it while it was still so warm it almost burned your mouth. It had just the right amount of crunch to it, yet the grease made it moist. Your fingers would be covered in this ooey gooey sugary mess. Those were the good old days.
I really thought that no one would be able to top that. There couldn't possibly be anything better on a cool autumn night that the delectable funnel cake. But I was a foreigner in the land of deep frier's. I had no earthly idea how many "things" could be deep fried to make them on the cutting edge of the cuisine. I am in Texas now, and it became my quest to seek all that this beautiful state had to offer. I traveled through the cities and tasted the foods that Texas so love. Fried catfish, Chicken Fried Steak. They even have Chicken Fried Chicken for those opposed to red meat. Aren't we thoughtful. I even had to join O. A. after we had been here for a few months. I am sure that you know someone who is a member as well? Okra Eaters Anonymous. I had never even had that in California. I was so hooked on it. Every restaurant we went to had to be a buffet so that I could get fried okra. It took months of therapy to finally kick the habit.
A couple years ago, we went to the State Fair with some friends. NEVER go anywhere with friends who can eat like there is no tomorrow. It is sooooo bad for your waistline. We visited every vendor to investigate what their magical deep friers were putting out. The choices were unbelievable. Deep fried Twinkies (come on now), deep fried cookie dough (saints be praised) and the winner of the prize..........deep fried peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Good night Agnes. They had me. It didn't even matter what kind of jelly they were using. A PB&J dipped in a sweet pancake batter and then gingerly dropped into the scalding hot grease and fried to a delicate yet crispy crunch?????? Oh Puh leese. What is there not to love about this state? If you are looking for a warm place to live, where the countryside is nice and level and the music makes you want to tap you toes.......have I got a town for you. But leave your Wii Mii at home.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
