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Home Alone.

Usually when my husband travels I really have my act together. House is spotless, meals are prepared, workouts are done, relaxing ensues…

 

 

Ok, besides that fact that I sleep on the couch because it is easier to escape an intruder than if I had to jump out of my 2-story bedroom window. Aside from that, I’ve got it all together.

 

This week was quite different. As I tweeted my life away, I was a complete wreck. Dishes left in the sink and all over the place. Clothes thrown everywhere. Toilet paper and paper towel racks lacking said paper. No cooking. Scraping leftover oreo crust from a baking dish for dinner. Dragging myself out of bed. Leaving green monsters stewing in my warm bedroom. Talk about being in a funk.

 

 

 

I’ve been brainstorming ways to feel more secure. My brother comes to stay with me, but I don’t feel like waiting on him hand and foot while he mooches homemade dinners off of me interrupting his life.

 

 

 

Of course, I thought that a security system may help me feel more secure. Then decided we didn’t need the expense. I’d rather buy shoes. And lobster.

 

 

 

 

Perhaps a dog? I begged for one for 5 minutes, then remembered we are never home. And that we have a new house with new carpeting. And then decided I’d rather get a dog when I have 4 rugrats who won’t can take of the dog like my siblings and I never did.

 

 

 

 

 

Yesterday I had an ‘aha!’ moment. A motion detector! Then I’d really feel safe around here. And when the motion detector came on every 5 minutes because there are deer in the yard? Oh. Hmmm..ok. Not so much.

 

 

 

 

I think I’ve figured it out.

 

 

 

 

I need my own personal security guard at the house. Perfect. Just a few days a month. Not a huge expense. Kind of like a rent-a-cop at the mall. But I want a cute one. Boy, those rent-a-cops are harrassed, aren’t they?? 

 

 

 

 

And along with my security guard, I’d like 3 half-dressed figures, preferably resembling George Clooney, Mario Lopez and David Beckham, to fan me and feed me grapes while I lie on a fluffy, cashmere, velvet bed shopping online for shoes. I would feel SO secure. Not only would I have my own rent-a-cop, but I’d have 3 beefcakes to stare at keep me safe.

 

 

 

Oh, and I’ll make sure to keep the house looking like it does below, because who wants to scour through a mess when you are trying to burglarize a house???

 

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(in the corner would be a box for my new crackberry that I got…2 weeks ago)

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(all of those veggies I bought to cook for the week….sure did go to good use)

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(please don’t notice residual oreo crumbs from said oreo crust dinner)

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(don’t even ask what is on that plate. I don’t remember what I ate last Monday)

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(at least oreo baking dish is not available for dinner anymore)

 

 

 

 

 

 

(my floor. enough said.)

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(..wtf..?)

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(4 weeks worth of laundry)

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Not thoroughly disgusted with me yet? Head on over to Julie’s blog to find out what my fitness secrets are. 

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Looking for the Glo Bar Winner?

 

 

Don’t know much about Mother Lovett – my deaf, blind, bossy and utterly hilarious grandma? She is funnier than a cross between Everybody Loves Raymond and Seinfeld.

 

You can find out more about her here, here, here, and here.

 

 

I loved hearing about the dialogues with your own grandmother (or mother!) in my weekend recap. I could laugh for hours reminiscing our Mother Lovett stories. Such as the one below – one for the history books.

 

 

 

Summer 2008, pre election.

 

Me: How are you, Grandma?

ML: Oh. I’m not great. I’m all in.

Me: Why is that?

ML: There is nothing on TV! I tried to watch the story but even that wasn’t on.

(for the record, ‘the story’ refers to The Young and The Restless, for which, my entire life, I have heard about as if the characters are her friends.)

Me: Oh that’s right, the election coverage is on.

ML: Yes. All I hear is Omaha, Omaha, Omaha. There is nothing else on but Omaha. I just want to watch the story.

Me: Omaha?

ML: Omaha! The man running for president!

 

 

 

Enough said.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Orange cookies are one of my mom’s favorite cookies that Mother Lovett and I would bake at Christmastime. We didn’t always make them. The last couple of years we made them because since she could not see, hear, and successfully walked around with 4 blockages in 3 arteries for 20 years, I ran the show.

 

 

 

Her recipe called for shortening. I used butter.

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Big mistake. I tried not to use shortening because it just seems so…fatty. And filled with bad, fake…stuff. And I know this is surprising, given some of my favorite recipes.

 

 

 

 

Oranges.

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I always zested the oranges for Mother Lovett when I was younger, and now I know why.

 

 

It is a huge pain in the arse. 

 

 

 

We aren’t talking a tiny bit of zest here. 

 

 

 

 

We are talking the zest of 4-5 oranges.

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For the cookies, and the glaze.

 

 

 

 

Why does it taste so bad, but make food taste so good?

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The world will never know.

 

 

I probably shouldn’t say that because I’m sure one of you can google it. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Juiced those babies all on my own.

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Freshly squeezed. 

 

 

Into my mouth. 

 

 

Err..the bowl.

 

 

 

 

 

I have an old-school juicer that was Mother Lovett’s, but I couldn’t find it.

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So I jabbed these babies with a fork and let their flesh runneth dry. 

 

 

 

Does that make sense? Did I even say it right?

 

 

 

 

Discard the seeds!

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No one wants a cookie with a hugh jass citrus seed inside. Especially me, cause I don’t want no orange growing inside my belly.

 

 

 

 

I really don’t talk like that. In fact, when my husband reads this post, he will probably scold me for even typing like that.

 

 

 

He like to remind me to say ‘I’m doing well‘ instead of ‘I’m doing good.’ For all of you wives out there, I’m sure you just love when your husband corrects things like this, right?

 

 

 

Not. It drives me batty. Do you hear that hubs? Stop. It’s annoying. Kind of like your treasures that are in our beautiful home.

 

 

 

 

 

I used buttermilk in the cookies.

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I used buttermilk that expired on 9/15/09.  But I promise I did it in respect of Mother Lovett. She had a plethora of expired items, such as soy sauce that expired in 1978, yellow mustard that expired in 1999, and Campbell’s soup that expired in 1985. 

 

 

Soup is a CANNED GOOD. Do you have any idea how long it takes for that to expire?

 

 

Oh well. At her house we all just slathered that yellow mustard on our chipped ham sandwiches and partied like it was 1999. Even though 1999 was almost 10 years ago.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Zest in the batter.

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Cookies ready to go in the oven.

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I should mention these are more of a ‘cake-like’ cookie. Like the pumpkin chocolate chip cookies from last month.

 

 

 

 

I set the extra batter aside so I could use my mixer to make the glaze.

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Freshly squeezed orange juice and powdered sugar. And zest.

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That’s IT. So simple and so, so delicious.

 

 

 

 

Almost thick enough – better add some more sugar.

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Ahhh…perfect.

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‘Cake-like’ texture.

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After the glaze is brushed on, it dries and slightly ‘cracks.’

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Tastes like Christmas.  I would be lying if I told you I didn’t eat the glaze by the spoonful.

 

 

 

 

I didn’t eat the glaze by the spoonful.

 

 

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Orange Cookies

1 cup shortening

2 eggs

2 cups sugar

4 cups flour

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 cup buttermilk

1 1/2 cups fresh orange juice

zest of 4-5 oranges

1 pound powdered sugar

Preheat oven to 350.

Cream shortening, sugar and eggs until fluffy. Sift flour, baking soda and powder, and salt. Add dry ingredients to wet, alternating with 1 cup of buttermilk, beginning and ending with flour. Add 1/2 cup of orange juice and half of orange zest. Drop on greased cookie sheet. Bake at 350 for 8-10 minutes.

For glaze, begin with remaining orange juice and zest in mixing bowl. On low speed, add powdered sugar in 1 cup increments until it reaches desired thickness.

Glaze cookies while still warm. Let glaze dry.

 

 

 

 

Enjoy these cookies.

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And each time you make them, think of all the 8 month old oranges I had to zest as a kid.

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 Happy Monday! 🙂

 

Well, not a very happy Monday for me because it started off with a dentist appointment. I usually do not mind going because there are many things in life worse than the dentist. However, today I was told I have about 8 zillion cavities and will be spending the next few Friday’s in the dentist chair. Hip hip horray.

 

 

 

Thank you all so much for the well wishes on our first anniversary. 🙂 We spent the day in Cleveland and I was all ready to snap pictures, but my camera decided otherwise. It gave me some goofy ‘lens error’ message – but of course was working again by the time we go home. I saw sooo many beautiful Fall scenes that I wanted to snap.

 

 

 

Something occured over the weekend that had us all in giggles and remembering Mother Lovett. For as long as I can remember, Mother Lovett pronounced about 85% of her words incorrectly and used other phrases that we never heard. I think it is common as we get older, but her’s were always quite humorous.

 

Some favorites:

ML: ‘I found a coupon in the paper for Louie’s. I’d like to go get some pots for the flowers.’

Us: ‘Louie’s? What is Louie’s? Where is Louie’s?’

ML: (getting frustrated) ‘You know – LOUIE’S. The construction place!’

Us: ‘There is no construction place called Louie’s. What on earth are you talking about?’

ML: ‘YES THERE IS!! It is blue and white and we get flower pots there.’

Us: (after a few moments of contemplation) ‘Oh…you mean Lowe’s? LOWES.’

ML: ‘No! Louie’s! Look it is right here in the paper.’

 

She definitely meant Lowe’s. She was legally blind. The w appeared as a ‘u’ and ‘i’ to her. Hmmm.

 

 

 

Us: ‘Grandma, can we get you anthing at the store?

ML: ‘Oh yes, please get me some of that torillo soup.’

Us: ‘You mean tortilla soup?’

ML: ”Yes – torillo soup.’

 

 

 

 

Baking cookies:

ML: ‘Hand me the lifter.’

Me: ‘The lifter? What is the lifter?’

ML: ‘The lifter! To get the cookies off the pan.’

Me: ‘Oh…the spatula??’

ML: ‘Yes! The lifter!’

 

 

These are just a few of the moments that we were remembering in the car ride that had us howling. Maybe you had to be there.

 

Kind of like the time you probably had to be there when my 9 year old brothers thought it was hilarious to yell out obscenities and bodily parts since she was extremely hard of hearing.

 

The boys: (randomly) ‘Vagisil!’

ML: ‘What fell??’

 

 

 

Oh, these were the days. Luckily for us, we experienced a similar day in the car on Friday. I was a bit busy playing on my crackberry since I develop a tick when I’m not connected to the entire world.

 

 

My mother: ‘Jess, we had the best lunch at Miss Martha’s. It was so good. And afterwards we had dessert and Susie orded a tai chi. It wasn’t very good though.’

Me: (half-listening, obsessed with crackberry) ‘Oh that’s a shame.’

My mother: ‘Yeah, and it really just didn’t taste good. We have all had tai chi there before, but this definitely wasn’t tai chi.’

Me: (still losing brain cells) ‘Hmmm, I wonder why..?’

My mother: ‘It just tasted weird, we always get tai chi there. Have you ever had one? You have -‘

Me: (alert, cutting in) ‘WAIT. WHAT are you saying? Tai chi?? Do you mean CHAI TEA???

My mother: ‘Yes, tai chi.’

Me: ‘MOM. OHMIGOD. It is CHAI TEA. Tai chi is a form of martial arts.’

My mother: ‘Oh. I guess you’re right. I meant chai tea.’

Me: ‘Ohmigod, you are your mother.’

 

 

At dinner:

My mother: ‘Can we go to Nordstrom Shelf tomorrow?’

Us: ‘Ummm….MOM, it’s Nordstrom RACK.’

 

 

 

So happy that Mother Lovett can live on throughout my own mother. Now if that starts happening to me, please have me committed.

 

 

 

 

I bought some of this yesterday.

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Which obviously now has to be locked in a safe, since I have 45 cavities and from here on out will never eat sugar again.

 

 

 

Yeah, right. Bring on the veneers.

 

 

 

 

 

I bought some of this, too.

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Going to try out some of the recipe suggestions and eat more veggies this week. My husband is out of town.

 

 

Sometimes I go a little overboard.

 

 

 

 

 

 

And bought this $459 bottle of balsamic vinegar.

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Actually it was only $24. But in balsamic vinegar dollars, that equals $459.

 

 

 

 

Have a wonderful start to the week. 🙂

 

 

 

I’ll be back later with some goodies. In the meantime, I’m going to eat 5lbs of goodies before I get my new fillings.

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The First Year.

Last weekend, my hubby and I went to a very non-traditional wedding. It was outdoors (talk about freezing!), where the bride and groom were married by a professional actor and the music came from a boom box.

 

I took away so much from this day – that it isn’t about having a traditional cake (they had cupcakes) or about wearing the most glamourous dress. These 2 people were SO in love. And while I already knew that the above doesn’t make for a happy marriage, it was so refreshing to see a couple so in love that they barely were aware of their surroundings.

 

The food was INCREDIBLE. Hands down – the best wedding food I have ever eaten. The main course was butternut squash ravioli and bone-in lightly fried chicken breast. Ohmigosh, I can taste it now. Incredible. The cake, or ‘cupcakes’ were amazing as well – so amazing that before the reception even started my husband grabbed one and confidently walked across the room shoving it in his mouth.

 

He ATE their wedding cake BEFORE they even cut it.

 

Before the reception had began. I guess he really just isn’t up to speed on modern weddings. Oh well.

 

 

I guess I have to forgive him.

 

 

Because today marks our ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY! One year ago today it was a gorgeous, clear 78 degrees in Pittsburgh. I squeezed into a dress that, I pray to God, I will be able to fit in for the rest of my life.

 

Today we are spending our anniversary in Cleveland, Ohio because my youngest brother is on John Carroll University’s homecoming court. Cross your finger’s for the win.

 

 

I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’ve mentioned before how amazing my entire family is, so the addition of my perfect hubby just made it even more amazing. And I think they all agree. Sure, we will have a romatic date, perhaps a weekend away soon, but I like celebrating this day with family – just like we did one year ago.

 

 

We had a very traditional, perfect-to-me, wedding. And I did stop and pinch myself a few times that day and remind myself to relish in the moment. I did as best I could. In honor our anniversary, I’d like to share with you some of my favorite pictures from that day – one of the best of my life!

(Note: all photos were taken by the incredibly talented David Burke. If you are in Pittsburgh or need a destination photographer, I’d highly suggest using him. He is fabulous!)

 

A kiss from my grandma. With Mother Lovett squeezing in the picture on the lower right.

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My shoes.

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Grandparents.

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Mother Lovett with my brothers.

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Seconds before going down the aisle.

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The church.

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One of my all-time favorite photos.

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Honky Tonk Ba Donk a Donk.

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Man & Wife.

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Do you think I like pink?

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More faves.

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A table with our favor – a donation to the local food bank.

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Our cake – chocolate cake with chocolate fudge filling, white chocolate icing and white chocolate curls.

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I wanted it to look like someone puked pink all of the room. It did.

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The cookie room.

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Ok, I’ve heard this is a ‘Pittsburgh thing.’ I have no idea. Does anyone else have cookie tables? I needed a room. Because I’m a pig.

 

 

 

 

 

 

First dance.

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The other man in my life.

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Some necessary partying.

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See ya later!

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My husband likes to eat. ALOT.

 

And when he doesn’t get to eat, he gets very angry. His face should seriously be in the dictionary right next to ‘hangry,’ if it ever makes it into the dictionary.

 

 

 

Not only does he like to eat, but he likes to eat lots of meat. Chicken, steak, pork – you name it. Dare I ever make a dish without meat!

 

 

I think he believes that if he doesn’t get 76234 grams of protein in per day, he may lose all 170 solid pounds of muscle that he currently owns. He is a hottie.

 

 

Ususally, hungry-angry-husband hits at very inconvienent times. Like on an hour drive to my grandparents house. Or during church, where, let’s face it, he really doesn’t want to be in the first place. Or at the grocery store, while shopping for clothes, or during a 2 hour meeting. At least his co-workers can deal with him there.

 

The best was when we went to register for wedding gifts. Oh, my. We went to one of the ‘nicer’ malls about an hour away. We I figured that we’d have more of a selection and I didn’t really want to register for things I had never seen before.

 

So picture this – one hour drive there, in which a protein bar (or 3) has been consumed. We begin registering for china or crystal or something he knows we will never use, and he is as antsy as can be. Shocked? I know.

 

He begs, ‘Can we please go eat??’

 

We had registered for literally 7 minutes. I find the sales associate and give her back the gun to use on my husband  scan the items. We find a restaurant, which ends up having a fairly long wait, and he devours his food.

 

 

I spend the 4 minutes it took him to scarf down his meal staring at my plain, gross salad, because somewhere in the back of my foolish mind I thought it would be a great idea to do a fitness competition while wedding planning. Brilliant.

 

 

I also decide at this time that I would call my grandmother – no, not Mother Lovett – I needed someone who could actually SEE and HEAR – but my other grandmother, who lived only 5 minutes away. I knew this would just be something she would LOVE. And she did. And for the rest of my life I will always remember how much fun we had registering for my gifts – her and I.

 

 

Because about 5 minutes after we met her, hungry, angry, husband decides he needs a bottle of water. I’m not sure where he got it, but I think he drove to a fresh spring and bottled it himself because it took him that long.

 

 

He came back and excitedly handled the shatter-free glasses I registered for and scanned some inappropriate items as well. But 5 minutes later, hungry-angry-husband reared it’s ugly beautiful head again and he was off to get some ice cream.

 

He doesn’t even like sweets, so this is where I became suspicious. As often as I deal with him being hungry and angry, I think he was just trying to pull the wool over my eyes so he didn’t have to register. Why wouldn’t he want to register for such nice gifts in our wonderful home?

 

 

Lesson learned – make sure my future daughter registers for her wedding gifts with ME, not her own hungry, angry husband.

 

 

 

Below has been my go-to meal the past few weeks for my hungry, angry husband. It was born one afternoon when he was picking some things up at the store and sending me text messages about how hungry he was.

 

I knew it was about to start. I knew if he made it home before food was on the table, the kitchen would be a danger zone, appearing as though a tornado had ripped through. And in the tornado would not only be food, but miscellaneous items thrown, kicked, and broken in the passion of hunger.

 

I needed to take charge.

 

 

So here is the hungry, angry husband sandwhich. Only takes about 10 minutes. 

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The Hungry, Angry Husband Go-To Meal

2 thin-sliced boneless, skinless chicken breasts

seasoned salt

1 whole wheat bun

a few sliced red onions

1/2 oz pepper jack cheese

a dollop of bbq sauce

a dollop of low-fat ranch dressing

 

 

Season the chicken breasts with seasoned salt and either grill or pan-fry in non-stick spray. Make sure the chicken breasts are thinly sliced so they only take a few minutes to cook. About 5-6 I’d say. Toast the whole wheat bun.

 

Layer onions and cheese between 2 chicken breasts and place on whole wheat bun. Top with bbq sauce and ranch.

 

 

 Feed to you own hungry, angry husband.IMG_1180

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And don’t attempt to get a picture. There is no time for such a ridiculous thing.

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Ok I will admit – I am definitely that person that can now say ‘my mom was always right.’

 

How annoying was it when we were younger and she thought she was right but we just knew she was definitely wrong???

 

 

I’m just glad that I found out the truth sooner rather than later. Once she said to me ‘no matter where you go and what you do, someone there will always know your mother’ and that certainly scared the bejesus out of me. In many situations I STILL look around and silently wonder ‘which one of you here knows my mother?’ In some instances there was someone around that knew my mother…which annoyed scared me even more because she was right!

 

 

The big one’s that she was right about?

 

 

 

My Own Phone.

Ohmigosh-goodness-gracious did I want my own phone so, so badly. And no, we aren’t talking about cell phones here. I just wanted a phone in MY room. And I also wanted my own phone line. My own personal number. Because apparently when I was 10 years old we had a money tree in our front yard.

 

I’m not sure where that came from – I went to a VERY small school with the same 25 kids (give or take 2) from kindergarten to 8th grade. I don’t recall any of them having their own phone line. Maybe DJ from Full House had her own line? I’m guessing I saw it on TV at some point when I was secretly trying to watch trash on HBO. 

There was a bright pink, clear telephone at Radio Shack that I prayed I would open on Christmas morning for about 6 years. I never got it. And thank goodness I didn’t because I can’t imagine how many hours of my life I would have wasted away in my room on my phone. Probably talking to people I shouldn’t be and making plans that I shouldn’t be making. And I was one of the good kids. 

 

 

 

 

Co-ed Sleepovers

Who in the world came up with this one? A bunch of 16-17 year olds sleeping together in the same room at the threshold of raging horomones? WHY? I am so glad I was never, ever, ever allowed to participate in this. I am so glad my youth was preserved. I could not for the life of me understand why my parents wouldn’t let me go. If I was going to do anything (if you know what I mean), I could do it somewhere, sometime in the middle of the day. That was my argument. Why couldn’t I go to an innocent sleepover with boys AND girls? 

Am I crazy for thinking this already at age 26? Does this make me ‘uncool?’ If so, I really don’t care because I am so glad my parents never condoned such a thing.

 

 

Happy Meals

Growing up we rarely went out to eat as a family. My mom would cook almost every night, and her and my dad would usually have a ‘date’ night on the weekend (I love that about them), which meant we had a babysitter and powdered macaroni and cheese. I remember BEGGING for a Happy Meal. Maybe because I wanted the toy, or just wanted some fries, but either way, we only got one a couple times a year. Maybe 4? I felt so deprived. Wow, am I glad she was right about this one.

 

 

 

Butter

It’s true, my mom really has no idea what ‘whole wheat’ means. She doesn’t understand why my dad doesn’t spread butter on white bread with dinner, or eat white pasta or breaded chicken. She never cooked unhealthy, she just never jumped on the whole wheat bandwagon. She always said real butter was the best. She never ate large quantities, and just had it occasionally. 

 

And she doesn’t look like she eats butter all day.

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This probably came from my grandmother, who practically bathed in butter, lard and bacon grease. See, I’m telling you it’s genetic. But, I think most of us can agree with this one – I’d rather eat a bit of real butter than use a giant tub of the fake stuff.

 

 

 

 

 

Shaving.

About 2 weeks before 7th grade, I asked my mom if I could shave my legs. For some reason, I was SCARED TO DEATH to ask this question. I wrote about it in my diary for months before I asked. I guess I was afraid of the rejection? So weird. After I mustered up the courage, I finally asked one day while she was outside watering her flowers. She said no. She said it was such a pain to shave, and once you start, you always have to do it.

I am not italian, but you would guess otherwise. My hair is dark brown, so I finally become self concious about this as I was reaching 7th grade. Which apparently is very strange, since girls shave their legs now in…..what? 4th grade? Yep, I’m a huuuuge dork.

Anyway, I rebelled. I planned it out. And I woke up super early on the first day of 7th grade, stole a razor and some shave gel, and shaved my legs. I also wore a skirt. Did I think she was stupid? She didn’t say anything for a few months, but eventually she just casually asked if I was and I responded ‘yes.’ Obviously she was right – is it not one of the biggest pains?!?

 

Yes.

 

 


 

 

 

French Fries and Gravy.

Self-explanatory. 

Growing up she always mentioned how amazing french fries and gravy were together. I thought this was so gross. We never had them and she never ate them around us. In fact, I don’t think she’d had them since college. I once ordered a side of fries and a side of gravy in college, too. Have you ever had this? O. M. G.

Order it today. Just make sure you don’t attempt to try on your skinny jeans.

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Treasures.

When we cleaned out my grandmother’s house, there was really only one thing that I desperately wanted.

 

 

 

Her recipes.

 

 

The majority of the recipes were truly hers – she literally made them herself.

 

 

 

I did get to take the recipes, but what I don’t think I’ve mentioned yet is that my husband and I closed on our new house on April 24th, and my grandmother died on April 25th. The recipes had been sitting in my parents’ house, along with most of my other junk because we all know there wasn’t more room for it here.

 

 

 

Moving into our house was a frenzy, as we also had a few days of funeral activities to attend. The recipes were inside a bag, which was inside a box, and until last week, I wasn’t even sure if they were at my house or my parents’.

 

 

 

 

I found them and decided to look through them last night. 

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This is just a bit of what I had to look through.

 

 

 

 

 One of the first recipes I found is a cookie we would make every Christmas.  

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Seeing her handwriting on the recipe got me a little shaken up, but in a nice, warm and fuzzy way.

 

 

 

I couldn’t believe how OLD some of this stuff was. 

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And most of it was hard to make out. Some of it even written in pencil, probably up to 50 years ago, maybe more. You can imagine how much it has faded.

 

 

 

 

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Most of the recipes had ‘age spots’ or stains on them, and I kept wondering what it could be. What was she making that day that she spilled on the recipe??

 

 

 

 

 

 Hmmm, here is one for her mother’s date pudding.

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I like dates, and I like pudding, but I don’t know if I’d like date pudding. Have any of you ever had this?

 

 

 

 

 

 Again, more of her mother’s recipes that I can barely make out.

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I’m sure you can see how old and discolored these papers are. Notice in the upper left corner a sheet of more recent paper…and by more recent, I mean probably from the 70’s.

 

 

 

 

 

Ooooh here’s an oldie.

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 Check out that paper disinegration.

 

 

 

 

Again, more old paper against new-ER paper.

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This here was a good find. Her orange cookies were AMAZING, and she made an even better glaze to go on top. Again, a usual Christmas recipe, and one of my mom’s favorites.  

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I can’t wait to fill my new kitchen with Christmas goodies. Hopefully I can restrain myself.

 

 

 

 

This will be our first Christmas in our new house, and I am SO excited. I can’t wait to decorate, light Christmas-scented candles, and obnoxiously bake cookies that could feed a small country.

 

 

 

And then obnoxiously eat them all in one sitting. Yes, I can’t wait.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 How cute is this paper?!

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I love this one because it is either my mom or aunt’s handwriting, most likely from when they were my age. They were obviously planning a party, perhaps one of their wedding or baby showers, as the list reads chicken salad, lemonade, fruit salad, deviled eggs, stuffed celery, and…

 

cleaned lettuce…?

 

 

Would someone actually serve dirty lettuce?

 

 

 

 

At one moment I started to panic because she had recipes organized and clipped together by paper clips.

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I obviously took them apart, but I didn’t like taking them apart since she was the last to handle them.

 

 

 

 

 

I think this is really a true treasure.

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Hand-written recipes in a very old recipe book. Most of these are written in pencil, too. The paper is so old it is practically crumbling.

 

 

 

 

 

OK – a recipe on a NAPKIN.

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This takes the cake. Who saves this? Why not write it on paper!?

 

 

 

 

This napkin has seen better days. 

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 It appears to be about 212 years old in napkin years.

 

 

 

 

 

 

There is one BIG reason that I looked through these recipes. I wanted and NEEDED to find a certain recipe.

 

 

For my sanity, for my mom’s, my cousin Lacy’s, and probably every other person who had ever came in contact with Mother Lovett.

 

 

We didn’t ever think we would find it. We didn’t even think it was written down.

 

 

 

 

And after about 5 phone calls to my mom earlier in the evening, telling her ‘I found this, I found that,’ I finally found what we all had been looking for.

 

  

 

 

This is HUGE.

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Her pie crust was TO DIE FOR. I wish I could tell you in person because really, it was incredible.

 

 

 

And I found the recipe.

 

 

 

Then fainted.

 

 

 

 

Then regained conciousness.

 

 

 

Then ate a cookie to make sure I was alive.

 

 

 

Not only was I alive, but I had found the recipe that has alluded us all for many, many years. Even if you were with her while she was making a pie crust, it was impossible to figure out her recipe. And if you asked for it, she said she just knew how to make it and couldn’t find the recipe. And to be honest, we rarely asked, because we were convinced she was immortal.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Another VERY old sheet of paper.

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 Wow, probably one of the oldest in there.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I came across this – a recipe was written on the back.

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It was a subscription letter to my grandmother’s FATHER.

 

 

 

 

 

 I don’t know if you can make it out, but they offered him a year subscription for $1.00.

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Good deal!

 

 

 

 

 

 

A letter addressed to my mother right after she was born.

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Can you see the date? You do the math.

 

 

 

 

 

There were a couple recipes from newpapers tucked in with the others.

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 Check out that date!

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We found many, many old, saved items in her house. Some we deemed ridiculous, others reasonable. She lived during The Depression, so naturally she saved EVERYTHING.

 

 

 

 

Including a bottle of soy sauce that expired in 1978 and hairspray from the 40’s.

 

 

 

 

Not quite sure what she was planning on doing with that…

 

 

 

 

 

I love this last picture. This stirred the most emotion in me. I felt lucky and special to hold this, and at the same time my heart absolutely went out to the woman writing this. I want to frame these.

  

 

 

 IMG_0925A letter written to a prospective employer – I guess today we could call it a ‘cover letter.’

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There were two letters. One sent to ‘gentlemen’ at the local newspaper, and the other sent to a female at the post office.  There was no resume to send, as my grandmother had been a homemaker since she got married – which I believe was her dream – to cook, clean and raise a family.

 

 

However, she was recently widowed, and it was time to find work.

 

 

 

 

 My, my, how times have changed.

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Her qualifications included typing, bookkeeping, answering phones, and following instructions.

Not much out of the ordinary, right?

 

 

But it was a few lines down that got me. She writes:

 

‘I am intelligent, have a pleasing personality and present an attractive appearance.’

 

 

I told you she was beautiful, right? She failed to include this part in her letter to the female at the post office.

 

 

Some things never change.

 

 

 

Us women have always had a bit of power over men. 🙂

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