“I’ll Be Home for Christmas, If Only in My Dreams” Part One or Pass the Snickerdoodle Cookies

I spent some good time this week baking with Molly, Mary Michael, Sally, Mom, and Arlene Hauser. Mom and Arlene are in heaven but their recipes were in my kitchen.  At this time of year, I’m one to get all sentimental and think about......cookies.  No lie; most of my past can be summed up in the cookies I bake.

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It was the fall of 1963.  We city kids from State Center that lived north of Highway 30 got bused to Clemons Junior High 8 miles from home in the northern part of the West Marshall district.  Sounds bad?  Bussing?  OH HECK NO!   Clemons Junior High was where I decided I wanted to teach middle school.  You’ve heard the phrase, “Is this heaven?  No, it’s Iowa.” Most of us felt the same way about the bus ride, the people that we met, and the activities we participated in.... and school was okay, too.   That’s where I met some of the greatest people in my life....but I digress.  I wanted to tell you about Snickerdoodle Cookies.

One Clemons lass that immediately captured all of our State Center hearts was Marlys Hauser.  She was so much fun and just twinkled at the thought of .... anything.  Her laugh was contagious.  She was smart as a whip and saw life through the eyes of a dreamer....her imagination and her creativity were marvelous.  She had bonfires at her house and....parties!  I stayed overnight at her house as much as I could-- she had her own bedroom under the eaves and it was heaven.              

Marlys Hauser's mom, Arlene, was one hell of a cook.  I mean, the lady was magic.   Oh, she taught me so much about baking, food preparation, and combining tastes.   Not only did I get to have fun with Marlys, her mom taught me how to make pizza! IN HER OWN OVEN!    (FYI....her daddy could be an entire blog by himself....he was one of the nicest people in the world.)

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But, the magic that Arlene Hauser’s cooking created that I loved best were her Snickerdoodle Cookies.  Melt in your mouth, warm, cinnamonny bites of plain deliciousness--they are a favorite of mine still.

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Wednesday night the family played Christmas bingo and Mary Michael tallied which cookie we liked best.... the Snickerdoodles won!  I might have been sitting in a farmhouse kitchen in Central Georgia, but my heart was back in a farmhouse kitchen outside of Clemons, Iowa 53 years ago remembering a sweet piece of my life.  Marlys, thank you for sharing your family with all of us.  Merry Christmas from Georgia!

Confessions of a Midnight Cat Wrangler: Giving Thanks--Get Out the Spanx

Confessions of a Midnight Cat Wrangler: Giving Thanks--Get Out the Spanx: Thanksgiving.....synonymus with mashed potatoes, gravy, turkey, stuffing. Stufffing ?.....that's how I'll pack myself into my jean...

Giving Thanks--Get Out the Spanx

Thanksgiving.....synonymous with mashed potatoes, gravy, turkey, stuffing.

Stufffing ?.....that's how I'll pack myself into my jeans this next week.

We will be celebrating a day dedicated to the delicacies of a perpetually hungry woman.

But let me digress to the latest diet.

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Bill and I are eating to live.
Not living to eat.

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I have been counting the calories of those foods that I eat.  I have lost 25 pounds by eating correctly.

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Correctly is relative.  Eating a bag of Cheetos is not correct.  Eating Kale is correct.  Eating a box of candy is not correct.  Eating an apple is correct.  Eating chicken can be an oxymoron....eating a skinless chicken breast is correct.....eating the skin off a piece of friend chicken and leaving the meat is incorrect.

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So, here comes Thanksgiving.  I shall keep moving forward on my quest to be healthy.  I shall deep walking.  But, I shall eat pie.

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I know myself well.  Pie is who I am.

Hurricanes, Hericanes, and Hymnicanes

HURR

Dang....good, old hurricane Matthew has my attention.  Niece Erin and I were talking last weekend that experiencing a tropical depression this past summer was enough for us.  I am a chicken of the highest order.  Sustained winds do not thrill me.  My friend, Patty Tresemer said it best, “That sounds like a 14 hour tornado!”

Prayers for all who are directly affected by this tremendous storm.  Thank you to the law enforcement officials, FEMA workers, and all who help others in their time of need.  You are angels on earth.  

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HER

I saw a middle aged lady acting like a fool at Kroger yesterday.  She was loud talking, “Does anyone work here?  Does anyone work here?”

A young teenager meekly said, “Well, I guess I do.”  

She then proceeded to verbally accost this young man for most of the ills of the world.  He was so young, so sincere.  So OBVIOUSLY not in charge of any of her asinine complaints.  

Therefore, I looked the lady straight in the eyes and said, “Bite me.”  I walked away.  That shut her up.  

FYI.....do not pick on children (even big children) in front of me.  I lose all control.  

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HYMN

Good bye, Arnold Palmer!  Arnie’s memorial service had some of the best music that I’ve heard in a long time.  It was a delightful send off for a wonderful person.  A good hymn can lighten the load and  make our souls sing.  

Church music can make my day.  It doesn’t have to be fancy.  It doesn’t have to be in tune...I just love hearing people sing about their faith for others to hear.  There are hymns that take me straight back to my childhood, or to the burial of the 17 year old family cat (we whistled “How Great Thou Art”) or a concert where Pat McCall and Alice Ridgeway played a duet of “It is Well with My Soul.”  

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We should all probably sing a verse or two of “He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands” and say a prayer or two for individuals facing challenges unknown to us.   Be it Hurricanes or Hericanes!

Inappropriate Jokes

So, I was at this bar one night....and the waiter screamed, “Does anyone know CPR?"...and I said, “Hell, I know the whole alphabet." Everyone laughed.....well, except this one guy.

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Do  you know what you get if you cross an onion with a donkey?

You either get an onion with really long ears or a piece of ass that’ll  make your eyes water.  

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Do know the difference between humor and odor?

Humor is a shift of wit.  

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Have you ever seen moth balls?

How’d ya’ get their little legs apart.  

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Why don’t witches have babies?

Their husbands have Halloweenies. 

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How’s a woman like a frying pan?

Ya’ gotta’ get them hot before you put the meat in.

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 I read the first joke on the Internet last week.  The last five jokes were told to me by various 4th graders over thirty years ago.....thankfully, most of them had no idea what they were talking about.  They had overheard their dads (no lie) telling these jokes and because the adults were laughing, the children thought that I might like them.  

No wonder I loved teaching 10 year old kids!

Confessions of a Midnight Cat Wrangler: Rewind it.....30 years Plus or Minus......I’ve bee...

Confessions of a Midnight Cat Wrangler: Rewind it.....30 years Plus or Minus......I’ve bee...: 3:00 a.m. June 27, 2016 Sally, my granddaughter,  is watching Peppa Pig.  She’s delightful.  ( Sally and Peppa (the British pig) are both ...

Rewind it.....30 years Plus or Minus......I’ve been here before!

3:00 a.m. June 27, 2016

Sally, my granddaughter,  is watching Peppa Pig.  She’s delightful.  ( Sally and Peppa (the British pig) are both delightful.  It is the middle of the night.  I’m not so delightful.


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Have you ever watched the movie Groundhog Day?  I have been here before.  God has a sense of humor.  I have been here before.  This is not my first rodeo.  I have been here before.  It was a different child but the same situation.  I have been here before.

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3:00 a.m. 1986

When Mike, our middle son, was little, he got up EVERY night at about 3 a.m.  He was delightful.  Awake.  Talkative.  Loving.  WIDE awake.  Did I mention he was delightful?  And he wasn’t sleepy one little bit.

The two of us would try to be quiet and let Molly (5), baby Danny (1), and Bill (36) sleep.

We would visit.  Play.

Then, one night, we wound up watching tv after we stumbled upon the show “The Waltons.”  It was a rerun on TBS.  And he loved it.

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Our midnight ramblings were streamlined once we found John Boy and the rest of the Walton Clan.  He would get me up by asking me what I was doing.....(I was trying to sleep).....and I’d stumble from the bed and head to the living room.  We’d settle into the big, old Lazy Boy recliner, wrap up in a blanket and watch the Waltons....every night.   EVERY Night.  We didn’t miss a night.  We watched the Waltons grow up, solve problems, say good night, love each other and become our friends.

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Mike and I looked forward to that quiet time together.  The two of us would be together and we enjoyed an hour of pure love.  The Waltons taught us a lot about life in the hard scrabble world of a rural Virginia community during the Great Depression and World War II.

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But it taught me even more about a little boy who needed some quiet time with his mommy.  Mike looked forward to being with me.  We would discuss the show, the characters, the story lines and having some time together.  At the end of the show, he’d head back to bed with a “Night, Momma, I love you” and go right back to sleep.

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June 27, 2016
4:00 a.m.

Sally and I are watching Peppa Pig.  Peppa has a family and tonight, she’s planted a seed and she’s waiting for a strawberry plant to grow.  Sally has been up about hour and her eyes don’t seem heavy at all.  I’m having a cup of coffee and thinking about being a young mother and wondering how I had the stamina to keep going.  But Sally has given me a memory of her Uncle Mike had been tucked away in my memory for a long, long time.

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So, as the Waltons called out at the end of every episode for all of their nine seasons,  “Good Night, Everyone!”  and  as I am able to say with sweet Sally on my lap, “Good memories and thank you, Sally."

Instant Life....or Honk, Honk!

Have I told you that my grandmother once asked me to come dial the rotary phone for her?  I was about 8 and she was having none of that new fangled invention.  In her late eighties, she needed to talk to someone but she had no desire to learn the latest toy-- the telephone.

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Fast forward to today.....the internet.....computers.....I-Pads......tablets....phones that do everything except pay our bills....wait, they do that, too.  Life is at our fingertips in an instant!


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I believe in taking my time in this world of hurry, hurry....or as one of Molly’s former 3rd students said on a far too frequent basis, “Quickly, quickly!”  I believe in stopping to smell the roses.  I visit.  I look.  I read.  I take my time.  I am not a slave to my cell phone.  It’s a tool....not an extension of me.

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I was in Atlanta twice in the past seven days.  (We need to pray for all those people who drive in that traffic daily.)  Everyone is in a hurry.  There was a guy in the lane beside me blowing his horn immediately when the light changed.  None of the cars in front of him were lallygagging....they were in as much of a hurry as he was.  Every light.  Every time.  Honk honk.  Honk honk.  He made me nervous.  I felt like my grandma....someone needed to come dial the phone for me so to speak.  I’m not a high traffic, intense type of woman.

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"He needs some quiet time," thought this old teacher.

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He was late twenties.....suited up.....hip glasses.....crossover type car.....that kid is going to have a coronary by the time he’s 30!  Honk honk!

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Instantaneous is not a word that is synonymous with Atlanta traffic.  There’s no getting from point A to point B in a jiffy.  Honk honk!  Whenever I am driving on the connector, I think of all of the cars looking like fire ants streaming out of a big ant hill.  Swarms of cars.  SWARMS!

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I am content to stay in my small town and enjoy the freedom of traffic.  I will give up the hustle, bustle for the quiet, quiet.  Slowly, slowly!

Graduation-- Yes, there are angels among us!

I have lots of stories about kids and the adults in their lives.  Some are funny, some are sad, some are unbelievable, and some make the love of God so tangible you swear you could touch it.  I’ve seen things that seem unbelievable, listened to holy words that come from the most unlikely places, and watched the actions of our Lord at work in mundane circumstances.  Anyway, I think I have.

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Before graduation, all of the seniors had been seated alphabetically in the Monument Room of the Macon Coliseum.  This class is on deck.  It's time to get ready.  The mortar boards are pinned on.  Medals are worn.  Stoles are passed out from different organizations. This is what the students (and teachers) have been working towards for the past thirteen, or fourteen, or even fifteen years.     

The graduations are running like clock work.  One after the other-- individual schools are holding graduation ceremonies.  It's a joyful time, but everyone has to be somewhat quiet while the school in front of them are completing the formal graduation exercises.  

Teachers are getting the gum pried from the mouths of the non-complient.  Pictures are being taken.  It's solemn but exciting.  The students know that they might never see some of their classmates again.  The students are looking at the programs.  People are teasing each other about their full names.  There are more smiles than tears.

The principal stepped to the podium.  The room became quiet.  "Thank you for the honor of being your principal."  

A certain frisky senior raised his hand, "Can you lead us in prayer?"

"No, I can't," she stated.  "I can't lead you in prayer."

The student smiled, nodded, and began, "Our father....."

The entire class stood and said the "The Lord's Prayer"  together.  No prompting.  Everyone.  Together.  Solemnly.  In unison.  

At the end, they sat down.

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The principal looked at the group. Smiled.  And said, "You're ready to graduate."

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Planting those Seeds of Happiness...Right in-between my Teeth!

Doing stupid things is second nature for me.  I get a kick out of some of the stupid stuff I do.

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Maybe I have learned to laugh at myself because life is so darned funny.

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For example......bagels.  That sounds benign, doesn’t it?  Well, greed takes me places I shouldn’t go.  

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One of first times I ever had a bagel was with Daria Chesnut.  "Here," she said. "Put a little cream cheese on that.”  I was hooked.  I love bread anyway but bagels are just so, so chewy.  It’s like the ultimate carbohydrate for me.  

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I like poppy seeds on about anything.  Couple that with bagels and I’m in hog heaven.  Oink!

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There’s a problem....poppy seeds nestle themselves by my teeth.  Look, I told you I floss.....I just sometimes miss one or two.  So, I try to resist.  BUT....

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Have you ever had a Bruenger’s Poppy Seed Bagel?  They have poppy seeds on both sides of the bagel.  Fresh, heavenly, a taste treat.

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I have learned not to eat a poppy seed bagel for breakfast and then go to a meeting.  I’ll feel one of those seeds and devil myself until it’s gone.  Or worse, I will eat one, go and look in the mirror to make sure I don’t have any in my teeth, and miss the one right in the front of my mouth.  

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I got home from a big event one night.   I looked in the mirror as I brushed my teeth getting ready for bed.  Yep, I found at least ten seeds in my teeth from my morning bagel.

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My poppy flowers are coming up this spring.  I laugh every time I see them and think of my teeth.

Beauty is only skin deep but ugly goes clear to the bone!

I witnessed some foolishness today....a woman was creating a scene in a store.  She hadn’t gotten the answer she wanted, so loudly she announced to all of us that she going to film us.  All of us.  All of us witnesses.  I sucked my teeth and walked out the door.

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Mr. DeMille, I DON”T need my close up.

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Big whoop.  A middle aged lady threatening a young worker.  Screaming that she was going to record all of this for the Internet to see as she fumbled with recording this craziness on her cell phone, this lady wanted all of us get in on the action.

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Wrong playmates, wrong playpen!

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“Hey, Lady, it wasn’t scanning correctly because you had picked up the wrong-sized can.”  If you want to fight, pick an old heifer like me.

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Film this, Ma’am.

The ad said that the smaller can was on sale. You had the great big can.  That dog won’t hunt.


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Does it hurt to be that stupid?

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I’m usually all "self-concept”.  I’m the "let’s not humiliate anyone, sing Kum-bi-ya and get along, Erin."  If I worked with the general public, I’d wear a Go-Pro around my neck and I could have my own tv station of crazy.

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I better just keep on walking.

Confessions of a Midnight Cat Wrangler: It’s a God Thing

Confessions of a Midnight Cat Wrangler: It’s a God Thing: Dan sent us a picture of Mike that we had never seen.  We got it about noon.  I’ve looked at it 20 times.....  in the past six hours! ****...

It’s a God Thing

Dan sent us a picture of Mike that we had never seen.  We got it about noon.  I’ve looked at it 20 times.....  in the past six hours!

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Jessica Sims, a friend that had lived down the street from the famed Doles Boulevard house in Milledgeville, sent the picture to Dan.  Dan sent it to us.

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It’s a God thing. Thank you, Jessica.

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Molly, Dan, Bill and I were so excited.  It is like getting the best Christmas gift in the whole world when you see a new picture of your child.  Many of Mike’s friends have surprised us over the years-- they find a picture of our middle son and immediately send us a copy.

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So, today, I am encouraging you....when YOU come across a picture of someone who is no longer with us on earth, send it to their family.  They will love it.  I promise.  You don’t have to say anything more than, “I ran across this photo today.  It brought me great joy.  I thought you might like to see it.”

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OR you don’t have to say anything at all.  It’s a God thing.

Do you need any help with that?

I love going to my grocery store.  It reminds me of ......home.

Ingles, in Forsyth,  is a friendly store and I go for the good vibes as well as the good food.

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There’s a young man that has assisted me numerous times....especially when I had my bad knee problems.

He still always asks if I need any help with that (anything from oranges, kitty litter, gallons of milk) (one bag to ten bags) (sunshine or cloudy day) and he asks me before I leave the store, “Do you need any help with that?” And then he smiles.

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He means it.  He likes helping people.  I have heard him ask others....I have seen him helping people.

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If Ingles could bottle his enthusiasm for customer service, they wouldn’t be a grocery store anymore.  They would just be selling his goodwill to all of us and the world would be a much better place.

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Note:  I need to help others more and have that same smile on my face.  He is ready and willing to share the load....I need to be ready and willing to share the burdens of others.   Doesn’t that really sum up our life here on earth?

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Hey, you need help?  I’ll help.

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I think I saw Jesus’ words in action today.

If You Lay Down with Dogs

I have two grand dogs, Mille and Charlie. Charlie thinks I’m the ....well, he thinks I’m the cat’s meow.

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I spent the night with Molly’s family this past week.  I knew my buddy, Charlie, and I would share the couch. 

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We did.  

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He hogs the covers.  But, he’s warm.  

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I hope I’m half as good as sweet Charlie.  He is loyal, true and wants nothing more than to give all the love he can give.   He thinks HIS girls are wonderful.  Brad and Molly are wonderful.  Balls are wonderful.  Walks are wonderful.  Charlie sees the best in all of us...and he also thinks that he can flip-flam the Nana so she’ll give him an extra scoop of puppy chow.  

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Yep, we’re on the sofa together.  Nope, I’m not sure where my left leg is.  Yep, he got an extra scoop of food for being such a good heating pad.

Take the Phone Away from Her

I sent this long, involved text to a friend.  Too long.  Too involved.  Too much.

I sent it to the wrong number.

Nothing was private....but God love the person that wrote me back, "I think you have the wrong number."

I wrote back, "I think I shouldn't ever text."

Sometimes I feel like I'm tech savvy.....other times, I feel like a twenty year old in a poodle skirt trying to fit into a middle school dance.

Some days I need a keeper.

Happy Valentine’s Day!  In writing, to everyone, with love and best wishes!

 

Blurred Lines....

I heard a story that resonated with me earlier this week.  

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“I hate the time of year around the holidays,” the sad-faced lady said.  

“Why?” my friend inquired. 

“I lost my son,” the woman replied.  

My friend was concerned.  “I am so sorry.  How long ago was that?”

“Twenty-five years ago, “ she stated.  

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Focussing on the present is a job that requires my concentration and commitment.  I’ve told you about the therapist who told me numerous times, "You can look back; you just can't stare, Erin.  You just can’t stare.”

This time of year makes me want to stare.  

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We’ve all got our sacks of rocks.  Some of our rocks are heavier than others but frankly, 

I think we all have our burdens.  

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BUT, we all have something else......we all have blessings.  

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In December, Sally was in the holiday program at the Frazier Center in Decalb High School.  My three year old granddaughter did......nothing.  She stood in that row of 2 year olds and looked at us while wearing her Christmas dress.  She didn’t smile, she didn’t sing, she didn’t shake her jingle bells....she just watched a roomful of strangers watching all of them.  I was so proud. 

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So after they got home and she was taking her bath, she told her mother that she had a great day.  Mommy, Daddy, Uncle Dan, Nana, and Sister had come to pick her up from school.  She thought it was just wonderful.   AND they got to eat cookies!  It was a great day!  Her perception became my reality!

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My blurred lines make me try to live.  My blurred lines make me want to remember our family like it was.  My blurred lines make me yearn for my granddaughters to know their Uncle Mike.  My blurred lines want to refocus my energies on living each day to the fullest.  My blurred lines make me know my blessings far outnumber my sorrows.  

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I need to remember Sally’s perception of the Christmas program was 180 degrees different than what we expected.  Mike’s 33 birthday was Monday.  Happy Birthday, Mike!  I love you.  I miss you.