Pickles, Pickles In A Jar
Wickles, Wickles here they are!



Okay, I'm a little bit excited about these pickles. Sometimes, when I say silly stuff (see above statement) I can hear Miss Liz talking to me. Now, don't worry about my mental health -- not in this case, anyway -- she just had a way of putting things. So, when I'm eating cauliflower for breakfast or singing the praises of spicy pickles I can almost hear her saying (with her Glaswegian brogue), "Think you're going 'round the bend, dearie?"

But these pickles, y'all, they'll make your sandwich sing.

I don't know about availability everywhere, since I think that they are made in Alabama. But, if you happen to see these in the store (or that sandwich relish that I'm kicking myself for not buying, too) please make sure to get some. This plus cheese and ham on a grilled sandwich with fresh tomato and mustard and mayo -- yumola!

p.s. When it comes to Southern food, the more anthropomorphic the behavior on the sign or label, the better the food will be. Here we have a pickle doing the two step with a pepper. So, you know that it is going to be good. The same thing applies to bar-b-que restaurants in the south. If you ever see a sign depicting a pig serving another pig and they both have on clothes and such...well, pull the car over, honey child, because there's some good eating in there!

Monday Before THE Monday

I don't know if y'all had caught my drift from the previous post, but school is upon us a week from today. I'm pitching a little fit about it, too, which shows y'all how silly I am, if you didn't know that already.

I mean, getting miffed at an entire month?

Act like I didn't know all of this was coming?

My only excuse, if I indeed have one, is that I'm just a little worried about my square pegs. I have one son who is a round peg, exceedingly round, in fact, and school is fine for him. I see him off with a light heart and absolutely no qualms. I don't have a problem with the schedule change -- I actually embrace change like that. No, you see, what's got me tied in knots are my square pegs. When a square peg meets a different schedule in addition to trying to fit into a round hole -- well, it's cross your fingers and say a prayer time.

All of that to say that this Monday needs lots of music. So, for your listening enjoyment, I suggest



Nina Simone. She was lovely and had such a soulful voice. Delightful.

And, here is the best ever rendition of Hey Jude. It was done by Wilson Pickett and was recorded at Muscle Shoals Sound.



Sing it, Wilson.

Monday, here I come.

Dearest August,
I feel as though we've grown apart, you and me. In my youth, you were such an exciting month. Truly, I always looked forward to you coming around. But, I'm sorry to say that no longer is the case for me. Now, you get the drop on me every time you visit. Not only that, it seems like you somehow manage to speed up time but only until school begins, then you somehow slam time back into place leaving all of us a little dazed and confused and tired. Here, I'm enclosing a picture of my son to demonstrate how I feel about you now.



Maybe it's not you. That's right, as crazy as you make me,....I know, it's not you it's me. That is why we have to not see each other any more.

I'm sorry, that's the way it has to be.

Annie

A Tale of Some Lilies



First off, aren't these lilies gorgeous? Yes. My Jon got some for me on our anniversary. We had these kind of lilies at our wedding -- but we almost didn't. That's where the tale comes in.

Fifteen years ago, Alabama was finishing up one of the driest summers it had experienced in many years. We had almost no rain. That meant that my father's garden, the garden that had supplied many a party with blooms, didn't have much to offer me, the gardener's daughter.

When we placed the order for the flowers for the ceremony we decided to go really simple and mainly have one flower. I love lilies and so we decided on the Casablanca. Our florist ordered a bunch of them from somewhere in South America and we thought that was the end of the story. But, it wasn't.

You see, dry summers don't last. After a while, some rain is bound to come. So, rain it did. In fact, it wasn't just rain, but bands of the hurricane, Erin, that struck the Gulf Coast just prior to my weekend wedding. We were busy thinking about logistics for the wedding and having the reception in the middle of a deluge, meanwhile, our florist was hoping that the lilies would make it to the airport.

They did make it. But it took a middle-of-the-night driving trip and quite a bit of airport searching to finally locate the shipment.

We hoped that the flowers would still look okay. But, you know, we knew that they might not look great given what the poor things had been through.

Guess what? They were absolutely gorgeous and didn't look or smell like flowers that had been through heck and high water to make it to the destination.

Sometimes poor planning works out, anyway. Thank goodness for that, since poor planning seems to be a permanent feature of yours truly.

Have a good weekend, y'all!

Well, Y'all, On This Day,



this here young'un



got hitched to this young'un.



Then 15 years went by just like that.

Shazam!

Swamp Dog



I have no idea what this song is about really, but I like it. You might, too.

Happy Tuesday!

It Isn't For Everyone,
but a store that primarily sells fireworks and fiesta ware is the perfect shopping experience for this mama and her four boys. Permit me to observe that the only things that would make the store even more perfect would be if it also sold cups of coffee, cheeseburgers and fries, assorted desserts, gasoline and had a larger bathroom.

They also score points for having two dogs and a black cat.

Where is this place? Here.

More Colors
So, this



plus



with the addition of this




What do you think?

Design Question
I need some help, y'all. Color theory type of help.

I've painted two walls (not my walls) two different colors.

First color: Sort of bright almost hazard orange.
Second color: bright cornflower (?, sorry, I don't have a crayola box handy) blue.

The question: What color should I paint the remaining walls? I was reading Martha Stewart last night and they suggested super light warm barely there sort of blue to go with any primary colors instead of a standard neutral.

What would you do? Repainting one of the remaining walls is not an option.

Many thanks in advance for your suggestions.

Happy day, y'all.

Pancakes, Mmmmmm

There is just something about a perfect pancake. It's so simple.



You must have this recipe. I came up with it several years ago. It is only a tiny smidgeon harder than a mix and so much better. The great thing about it, too, is that it is even better if you let it age -- either on the counter for 30 minutes before cooking or in the fridge overnight if you're the plan ahead type. I'm actually going to masquerade as a plan ahead type of person the next time we have folks over for Sunday lunch after church. My plan is to make up a big batch of batter, make the bacon ahead of time, make a fruit platter and then just warm everything up and make pancakes and scrambled eggs when we get home. The only thing I don't know is what kind of snack one puts out before a meal of breakfast and I also don't know what kind of drinks to have besides coffee, of course. Screwdrivers? Mimosas? Bloody Marys? Suggestions?

Here's the recipe:

P-Annie Cakes

Double or triple at will.

2 T. Butter
Milk (or buttermilk) on top of butter to make 1 Cup
1 large egg, beaten
1 cup flour
1 T. baking powder
1 1/2 T. sugar
1/2 t. salt

In a glass measuring cup, melt the butter in the microwave. When the butter is melted, add enough milk to make one cup. In a medium bowl, whisk the egg until beaten. Add the milk and butter mixture. Whisk a few times. Then, add the dry ingredients -- just sprinkle them over the butter/egg/milk mixture. After all of the dry ingredients have been sprinkled on, then whisk them in until incorporated and mostly smooth. Don't fuss if there are small lumps here and there. It is more important not to beat the batter to death. Allow the batter to age on the countertop for 30 minutes or so or cover it and put it in the fridge to let it age overnight.

Fry them up and dig in!

What Y'all Might Need Today



is some Grits Ain't Groceries. You might also need some real grits and groceries, but I wouldn't know for sure about that.

Sing it, Little Milton!

Happy Wednesday, y'all.

Down, Mama Bear

These males I live with are funny. They require a very direct approach. Most of the time, I find this really refreshing. For instance, generally, they are immune to manipulation. So, when I want them to do something, I have to first get their attention and then be super direct about the subject at hand.

But, I fear that after all of these years of shooting from the hip with my boys, that I may have lost a trait that I have many times heard nice people refer to me as. What trait? Actually, it really isn't a trait that I possess. They say that I am sweet. I always defer -- not out of false modesty, either. The reason that I defer is because I see myself from the inside and therefore know that sweet is many times not even in the same dimension as I am. But, I suppose that the little girl voice and the southern accent contribute. And yet, even with accent and little girl voice in place, I think that the perceived sweetness might be bleeding out a bit.

Why do I say this? Well, a couple of weeks ago at the pool, I went on a search for J. I couldn't find him. Not that I was worried. It is just that he only comes up for air the whole time that we're there, and so I have to look carefully for a while before I see his head bobbing up. I passed my youngest in my trek across the pool and asked if he had seen J. He hadn't. So we walked along together as I continued my search. I had just decided to go and look in the large pool when I heard what sounded like J over to my left. I turned and didn't see anyone. A few seconds later, I saw him break the surface of the water with not one, but 2 little boys clinging to him -- one of them was firmly grasping J by the hair. I was over to them in what felt like a fraction of a second. J began telling me how these little boys had been messing with him. I was inclined to believe him since the one little boy still had a grip on J. I could see that his scalp was bright red underneath his hair.

So, I wondered a few things. Things like how come J didn't give these little boys the slip. He is built like a bull ox and is twice as strong. I also wondered about the lifeguards that encircle the pool. Maybe they were not observing all that they could? You think?

I bent over. I placed one finger lightly on the little boy's arm. I quietly asked him, "Do you like it when someone pulls your hair?" He answered, "No." It was almost inaudible, actually, and as he said the word I noticed both hands released J's hair like it had turned hot and was suddenly burning his hands. I dropped my voice even further and said, "All right, then." And then he just skedaddled, y'all. I was shocked, actually, and almost felt sorry for him -- almost but not quite. I definitely scared the bejabbers out of the kid.

I make this illustration just to say that I don't know why it happened because usually I don't get this kind of reaction from kids. Usually, they sort of regard me for a moment, trying to figure out if I mean what I say.

Maybe it is from being around my quirky boys.

Maybe the kid realized how badly he had acted and was feeling remorseful.

Maybe he saw the shadow of Mama Bear waking up and decided to vamoose before she came roaring on the scene. (Smart. Kid, you have no idea how hard it is to shove Mama Bear back in her cave. Dude, it ain't pretty.)

I don't know. But, I have to tell you, I sort of liked it.

Which definitely proves how un-sweet I am.

Just trying to banish myths, y'all.

Happy Tuesday!