Birthday Wishes

Happy birthday to my mother, Betty, celebrating 79 years young today.  I love ya, momma!  

Blast from the Past

Mom and I at the K-mart, circa 1981, during what must have surely been a “blue light special” on Kodak Colorburst Instant cameras.

My Mom Betty

Momma and Me - August 6, 1988

May 9, 2010. Mother's Day. A day when we honor those women in our lives who nurtured us through childhood and helped us become, for better or worse, what we are today. I had considered for a moment writing an eloquent "thank you" letter to my mom for all those things throughout my 40 years (and my sister's 56 years) she has done - all the times she did without so I could have, the spoiling she did out of a desire for my youth to be easier than hers had been (I think she may have regrets about the level of this spoiling though), the leaving of a job to be a stay-at-home mom when the money would have come in handy in order to be there to see me off on the bus to school and greet me when it brought me home, the clean clothes that magically appeared in my drawers and closets and the meals that always filled our table. Yes, there are many reasons for which I should honor my mother . My words, however, could never do them justice.


Therefore, a few simple thoughts on the woman who gave me life.

Marvelous cook.

Yielded her heart to Christ years ago and never looked back.




Ma - Ma to five grands and two greats.

Obsessively clean in her housekeeping - a trait that was not passed on through shared DNA.

Married to my Daddy for 59 years and counting.

Beautiful.

Ever there for me.

Temperamentally hot on occasion, yet tender-hearted (these traits were passed along).

Takes her card playing seriously.

Yearns for, at age 77, the health of youth.

Momma and me - 1970 or 71.

My parents still have this table and chair set in use in their breakfast nook and it looks practically new.

Happy Mother's Day, Momma! And thank you - for everything.

Fajitas and Fried Chicken

Ren seems very excited about her Spanish class, even though she and a friend are the only two freshmen in this particular block. To celebrate, I insisted we eat a celebratory meal at the local Mexican restaurant. The kids had soft tacos, John had steak fajitas, and I had chicken nachos. Okay, okay. Actually, I had been thinking about eating out during the day and this was an easy excuse.

I would love to fill my little blog with all the wonderful cuisine I serve my family but the truth is I rather detest cooking. I can cook. I'm not horrible at it - usually. But day-to-day cooking is not something I've ever really looked upon as an enjoyable pleasure. And I must admit that John does more than I when it comes to meal preparation. I did have high hopes when we first married, though.

One Sunday, one of the first after we were finally able to move into the old family home place which had been remodeled for us, I decided to make my darling husband a traditional Sunday-after-church lunch - fried chicken. Yum! Yum! I called my mother Betty, an EXCELLENT cook, and asked how to make it.

She gave me the very simple instructions....

1. rinse off the chicken legs in some running water

2. heat some grease in the iron skillet

3. break an egg and dip the legs into this

4. coat the legs in some flour

5. fry until done in the skillet

5 easy steps. But what momma did not know was that she had a daughter who could always find an easier way to do something. And I did. I would mix my egg and my flour and viola...I would satisfy my husband and do it in less time.

Mental picture of the end result...think pancakes in the shape of a chicken leg. Mmm. Mmm.

We still have Sunday chicken after church. We just have it at the Corner Cafe for $5 per plate.