Seriously, Don't Try This At Home!!!

Kool-Aid is a staple in our house. We mix flavors, as well as add other drinks to it, such as juice, soda, or tea, making it our own. When Mr. Husband comes in and the picture's empty we hear "Who drank up all the Kool-Aid?"

When the kids open the canister, and there's no Kool-Aid, I hear, "Maaa-maaaa, we NEED Kool-Aid."

Kool-Aid has become more than a drink. Kids add salt or sugar and eat it as a treat. It makes the most vibrant Easter eggs, and wonderful for craft projects. Adding Kool-Aid to homemade clay gives it a pop of color, and a delicious fragrance. In high school, (just a few years ago), girls colored their hair with it. Yes, colored their hair.

I'm sure Kool-Aid has many other purposes. Maybe even one day we'll find out it's a miracle drink, that will cure all ailments. Until that day, there is one thing the famous drink mix of many flavors IS NOT good for, Kool-Aid Pie! Yes, I said, Kool.Aid.Pie!

In my Oral Communication class last week, my students gave informative, how-to speeches. One young lady's speech was "How-to make Kool-Aid pie."

I was so taken by this recipe, because my family loves Kool-Aid, and it was so
simple. Add one package of Kool-Aid to one can of sweet and condensed milk, stir well. Mix in one 8 oz. package of Cool Whip. Pour mixture into a graham cracker crust. Chill before serving. They would love it right?

Twelve year old daughter made the pie, while made dinner. After finishing the pies, she and thirteen year old daughter licked the spoons.

"This is good," said twelve year old daughter.

"Taste like Laffy Taffy," said thirteen year old daughter.

"I'm telling you right now, I'm not eating any of it," said baby girl.

And no one licked the bowl!

After dinner, Mr. Husband was first to try (insert trumpet flare here) The Kool.Aid.PIE.Pie.Pie. "Don't make this any more," he declared, with a sour look on his face .

We then sat around trying to think of who we could give a whole pie, plus one missing a VERY thin slice. (We doubled the recipe.) Does any one have Mikey's number?

Remebering a Friend

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today, to mourn a dear friend, my favorite pair of jeans. They have served me well, with T-shirts, sweat shirts, and blouses; flip-flops, gym shoes and heels, taking me from grungy to casual, as well as some what dressed up.

Favorite jeans have labored in the trenches of Winter, Spring, Summer and Fall. Never complaining, but always fulfilling the duty at hand, they will be missed.

Favorite finally gave in to countless washings, tours of duty through the dryer, and iron torture. They were faithful to the very end, succumbing to frayed hems, torn pockets, and ripped inseams.

Favorite will pass on the torch to new, to serve in many capacities, until raggedness.

Please bow for a moment of silence. . .

(To the tune of Taps)

Day is done, gone the jeans,
From the closet,
From the hanger,
From my butt;
All is well, safely rest,
In the trash.

Pisstivity is my Motivation!

Recently, I've been looking for Motivation, and she's been hiding like the coward she is. I asked, if anyone found her, send her home. She's been hanging out on the corner of Pisstivity and Aggravation!

A couple of years ago, I was threatening to exercise and lose weight! I'd talk about it, talk about it, and watch people on TV exercise. They looked as if they were benefitting. I even started printing and collecting exercises from shape.com and fitnessmagazine.com. But it wasn't until Mr. Husband said I was taking good care of him, for the next wife. I was pissed!

The truth hurts. And it cut me deep! Not long after that conversation, I got off my butt and got moving, losing 18 pounds. Pissed about his statement, I decided then I would out live him! If I died early, they'd spend my life insurance, find another wife and mom, and wouldn't even keep my picture out. Bull crap!

This year I've gained 9 lbs. back. Recently, I professed to be 'Back on the wagon.' Confession, I've not been die hard.

Sunday, we gave my oldest daughter a cake for her birthday. And yes, I had a small piece of cake, and a scoop and a half, of ice cream. Mr. Husband with his looks, and comments said, "Keep on with the cake and ice cream, you'll be at 200 lbs. before you know it."

OH. NO. HE. DIDN'T! It's on... IT. IS. ON!!!

Monday: I played Tennis.

Tuesday: Motivation did a drive by. I walked. She knows I don't like walking round, and round a track without someone to talk to, or music! My walk was cut from an hour to 35 minutes. I fixed her though, by doing 200 crunches, and I THOUGHT about doing curls.

Today: I'm hitting the jump rope.

Mr. Husband doesn't even know he found Motivation. And I'm not telling! I'll let him take credit for something else, like the crazy things the kids do!

New Career Options

The recession, current economy, along with the rate of company's cutting back, and closing their doors has made me think about other career options. If for some reason, I should lose my job as a college instructor, I would pursue a career in law enforcement. A detective, or crime scene investigator, to be exact, maybe even forensics.

I have received the best training via, Law & Order: Criminal Intent & Special Victims Unit; CSI, CSI Miami & New York; along with Without A Trace and Cold Case. After watching all of those show, old and new helping them solve cases with an 80% accuracy. I figure that would be a good career choice.

I've helped Callie calculate the trajectory of many bullets, and Eric analyze crime scenes on CSI Miami. Jack the team and I have been very successful in finding missing persons on Without A Trace. And some of those cases were very hard, as if people had vanished in thin air.

I wouldn't need much training, just hand me a badge, a vest, and give me a nice car, the Hummer on CSI Miami, is nice! I almost forgot about a gun. I'll only need a few lessons, I'm a quick study. Give me all the cold case files, and I'll have them solved within a couple of months.

There are a few requirements: I have to have the same schedule, I'll start each morning by 9 a.m and clock out by 3 p.m., I have to pick the kids up. And no weekends. Summers, they're not good for me, 20 hours a week only.

And if the law enforcement doesn't work out, maybe reality TV. I can keep it real!

Pickles Anyone?

The saying, the longer you live, the more you learn, is so true!!!

Growing up, I ate a wealth of homemade canned jams, jellies, cha-cha (chow chow), pickles, both grandmothers made. Although I ate a lot of it, I can't say I ever helped make any. That was until yesterday.

My girls and I set out to make kosher pickles. I guess you can call it another first. We had the little cucumbers just for pickling, and a recipe. The recipe called for vinegar, dill, garlic cloves and pickling salt. Saturday, while grocery shopping, I looked for the pickling salt. Of course my Wal-Mart didn't have ANY! They had jars and plenty of gelatin for making jelly, but no pickling salt!

Tuesday, was 'The Day,' for making pickles. I ran ALL OVER TOWN, literally, to find pickling salt. We stopped at five stores: two discount stores, a spice store, and two grocery stores. They were either all out, or didn't carry it. The last stop, Brokshire's grocery store, I almost LOST MY MIND! I walked down isles, after isles looking for the canning stuff, because that's where it would be.

I then started looking for someone to ask. There seemed to be no one tending the store, only checkers, and baggers. It was then about 2:30 in the afternoon, and I hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast. I was getting a headache, and think I was becoming hypoglycemic, and very agitated.

Finally I asked a checker, she sent me to the seasoning isle, where I knew it wasn't. But went back ANY WAY. I then ran down a bagger boy, who was riding an electric cart back inside. He had no idea what I was asking about. He (we) walked in circles for about two minutes and then he said something very smart. "I don't know what it is, or where it would be. How about I call someone for you." I could have kissed him.

Bagger boy, paged. No response. Paged again. Still one one responded. "I'll be back," he said. And he disappeared behind the double doors. Eight minutes later, (yes I counted), someone who actually tends the store came walking up. He didn't have a clue either. We went on a scavenger hunt, and by happen-stance, on the chip isle . . . "TaDa," the canning stuff. There was pickling salt! I got the other things on that list, and finally went home.

At home we prepared our space, and were ready to make pickles. As the girls measured ingredients, I had to taste this pickling salt. With all the fuss, I was curious to know its flavor. Was it tart, spicy, tangy? I imagined bitter.

It was SALT. Plain old, run of the mill, iodized, SALT! I went all over town, to five different stores, looking for SALT! OMG! If I had known it was just SALT, I would have use what I had. It wasn't the stuff with the little seeds. That's pickling spice. There is a difference!

Finally, we made our brine, that's the salt, vinegar and water mixture after it's boiled. Poured it over our cucumbers in the huge jar along with the dill and garlic. In eight weeks, we'll eat kosher pickles. No matter what they taste like, the experience with my girls was worth the aggravation!

I have a 4 lb. box of canning and pickling salt. Let's see, what esle can I pickle?

100 Calorie Snacks

Now that I'm back on the wagon, and committing to exercising, the next step is addressing what and how I eat. I will not lose 10 lbs. by exercising alone.

I'd say we (my family) eat pretty healthy. Fruits and vegetables are a large part of out diet. Although I'm not a MAJOR snacker, I do have my favorites. This year I've learned, that I can be an emotional eater.

Last week I heard Dr. Ian Smith, of the 50 Million Pound Challenge, and the author of The 4 Day Diet on the Steve Harvey Morning Show. Steve told Dr. Ian he needed to lose 12 lbs. before the Hoodie Awards in August. Dr. Ian said that was not problem, and could be easily in a months time, with The 4 Day Diet.

Right away something went off in me. If I were a dog, my ears would have stood straight up, and my tail would have been wagging. He had my attention. (Now I'm thinking... Was this rehearsed for suckers like me?)

I remembered, my cousin has a copy of the book. I was hooked, on the line, and was pretty much reeling myself in! We went over the first two modules. The first being a detox, where you're eating only fruits and vegetables, a little yogurt, but no meat. I could do that. That was Thursday. I had plans to shop for groceries on Saturday, and start the program on Monday. Monday is the Official start day for diets. Don't know where I heard/read it, but it's so.

While preparing my grocery list, and menu for the family I started thinking. The meals I'm planning, Blackened Tilapia, Shrimp Etouffee, Chicken Marsala... Do I really want to cook that, then eat fruits and vegetables?! In the immortal words of Whitney Houston, Hell-to-the NO! I told you before, motivation is hiding from me. I believe she has packed up, and left the country for more pleasant prospects. I just wiggled off the hook.

Like I said, I was thinking. I don't fry, unless you're talking about those green tomatoes, Saturday. We generally, bake, broil, boil and grill. I came to the conclusion that I will watch my portion sizes, eat small meals more frequently, drink more water, and not eat after 7p.m. There, my own plan. It sounds a little like something I've read/heard before, but I can live with it.

I had another bright idea... Buying the 100 calorie snacks would be ideal! That way I could better control my snacking.

While in Wal-Mart shopping, I got to the snacks, and started thinking again. It would be a waist of money to buy the 100 Calorie snacks. It's a marketing trap. We're paying for the trend, and convenience. I'll not fall for it. I can figure out 100 calories of the Tostitos, pretzels, and Lays Kettle Cooked chips that were in my basket. Surely, I can do that!

I have one question. How do I figure out 100 calories of the Rice Crispy Treats my girls made, and the sugar loaded cake I made for my son?

Getting Back on The Wagon -

After realizing someone was shrinking my clothes, I decided to take action this week. I'm not crazy, I did wait until after the 4th of July!

In August, 2006, while on vacation in VA, one of the kids took a picture of me. With the miracle of digital cameras, I was able to see the picture right then. OMG! I couldn't believe that was me. The image I saw every morning in my full length mirror, was NOT the person in that picture! I was the largest I've ever been.

I was always super skinny growing up. At 18, and a freshman in college, I didn't weigh 100 lbs. After having my 5th child, I weighed 135 lbs. I never had to watch my weight before. I've always eaten what and when I wanted. And it has taken its toll. At 5 feet 2 inches, I weighed 160 lbs. (I can't believe I just made that public.)

I didn't do anything about my weight until March 2007. I got down to 142 lbs., two pounds away from my goal weight of 140 lbs. Since then, I've hovered around 144 lbs. Earlier this year my weight started easing toward 150 lbs. All the Coke, Chessmen Cookies, and A&W Cream soda , I've indulged in lately may have contributed. Naaaa, couldn't have! I have to do something, I refuse to buy new clothes, and I didn't keep old ones!

I've taken my walking shoes out of the box, dusted off the jump rope, and uncovered the dumb bells. The Tae Bo, Walking, and Hip-Hop dancing DVD's are sitting out, and calling my name every time I walk by. All I need now is motivation, and she's hiding. If you find her, send her home. She has a lot of work to do. All that crap is in the floor.

Summer Means

1. Fireflies. In the South we call them lighting bugs. When I see them at dusk, I know it's summer for sure. At 41, I still have to catch a few.

2. Watermelon. What would summer be without it?

3. Softball.

4. Hulla hooping, yo-yoing, jump roping, and blowing homemade bubbles!

5. Honeysuckle, black berry and plum picking. Even today, the smell of honey suckles bring back wonderful childhood memories. Grand Daddy used to put us on the back of the truck, and back up to the black berry bushes. We'd pick all we could!

6. Swimming.

7. Icees and homemade ice cream, and never ending pictures of iced tea. Grand Daddy had a hand crank ice cream freezer. We'd take turns cranking. Right now Sonic has happy hour, 2-4 p.m., half priced drinks and slushees.

8. Purple hull peas. After peas were picked, we'd sit on the porch with Mu, (our Grandmother) and try to out shell each other. We'd try to get our thumbs as purple as hers.

9. Family reunions.

10. Sundresses, sandals, and flip flops! I love the freedom of having my feet exposed the the sun, and air!

911 Heeeelp!

Someone call 911! Bring in the dogs, detectives, CSI, Special Victims Unit, and Major Case Squad.(I guess you can tell I watch a lot of cop shows!) I’ve been violated!

It took me a while to notice, so I’m sure that I’ve disturbed the crime scene, my walk-in closet. The first time I realized something was a little fishy, and just didn’t feel right was Sunday afternoon.

Middle daughter had to sing on a program. Getting ready I pulled out my black slacks and put them on. They were a little snug, and thought they fit funny. So much so, I took them off, and checked the tag. I had to make sure they were indeed my pants. Mr. Husband, saw my confusion over the pants, and commented on their snugness (no it’s not a word). I put them back on anyway, and went on my merry way. That was so NOT a good idea! I paid for it. Talk about a super wedgy

Getting ready for work Wednesday, I pulled a pair of khakis out of the closet. They too were fitting a little snug, and were up my legs. I knew for certain these were MY pants. Since the summer between 5th and 6th grade, let’s say more than a few years ago, I haven’t grown an inch taller. I'm still five feet two and one half inches.

To get into these pants, I had to do the tight pant dance. It goes a little something like this:
Hop, hop, puuuuuull. Shimmy left, shimmy right. Hop – shimmy. Hop – shimmy. Zip. Squat. Breath… squat. Done!

I got smart, and didn’t wear tight pants that day. At work, I’d be in those pants far longer than the hour-long graduation program at a church. One rug burn, minus the rug, is enough for one week. It’s no coincidence that more than one pair of pants are not fitting. Someone has been in my closet altering (shrinking) my clothes, and handling my things.

Mr. Husband says yes, someone has been in my closet shrinking my clothes, all right. The culprits are Coca-Cola, Chessmen Cookies, and A&W Cream Soda!

Book em' Dano!