If you’ve ever met her you would know she is worthy of many a blog posts.
Growing up my brother and I would spend almost every Friday night with her and my papaw. She would take us to her house right after school. On the way there she would stop to get a paper. She wanted us to get it out of the machine at the store, so exciting as a kid. Even more exciting was that she would sing “The song” as we go close. I have no idea what tune to liken it to. Ask me someday and I’ll sing it for you. I swear.
"DeLena’s getting the Chattanooga News
Chattanooga News, Chattanooga News
DeLena’s getting the Chattanooga News
Chattanooga News Free Press
She’s a gettin’ it for her Mamaw
For her mamaw for her mamaw
She’s a gettin’ t for her mamaw
The Chattanooga News Free Press."
It felt so special to hear my name in a song. And sung by my Mamaw who could, even then, sing the phonebook and you’d buy the record/albulm/mp3.
Very, very, sweet and special lady.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Monday, March 29, 2010
My Raisin'
Hubby says I was raised in a convenient store. I would say “How Rude!” but the evidence against me is overwhelming.
• Little Debbie donut sticks for breakfast. In elementary school. On a regular basis.
• Earliest school lunch memory is me at k-4 pulling out of my lunch pail every day a hot pink coconut covered hostess snack cake loving called the “Snoball”
• On school holiday celebrations if my mom had to bring anything she would get my mamaw to make it. That means it was going to be cupcakes with homemade icing (Crisco and powdered sugar). As an extra special treat she would make a little extra and let me eat it that morning for breakfast. With or without my donut stick. Before school.
• When my mom cooked supper if I was hungry before it was ready I could “snack” on a can of Vienna sausages and crackers.
• Individually wrapped chocolates (found at impulse points in the store) know me by name. Cherry cordials are amazing. As are Cadbury Easter eggs.
• I was probably in high school before I ever had a “good visit” to the dentist, you know- the ones when they didn’t find a cavity. We went every six months.
• Little Debbie donut sticks for breakfast. In elementary school. On a regular basis.
• Earliest school lunch memory is me at k-4 pulling out of my lunch pail every day a hot pink coconut covered hostess snack cake loving called the “Snoball”
• On school holiday celebrations if my mom had to bring anything she would get my mamaw to make it. That means it was going to be cupcakes with homemade icing (Crisco and powdered sugar). As an extra special treat she would make a little extra and let me eat it that morning for breakfast. With or without my donut stick. Before school.
• When my mom cooked supper if I was hungry before it was ready I could “snack” on a can of Vienna sausages and crackers.
• Individually wrapped chocolates (found at impulse points in the store) know me by name. Cherry cordials are amazing. As are Cadbury Easter eggs.
• I was probably in high school before I ever had a “good visit” to the dentist, you know- the ones when they didn’t find a cavity. We went every six months.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Me+ Baking =
I wanted to bake Jeremy a pie. I wanted it to be so so special. He loves fruit pies and dessert. Me not so much. But this dessert was going to be for him. I had seen it on Oprah (clue #1 it was going to be FABULOUS!) and on that show it was Cindy Crawford who said she makes it all the time and keeps it in her fridge constantly (clue #2) So I set out to make it, as a surprise, for the very first time for Valentines day. The day of love. And this pie would say so.
Buying the ingredients to said pie was fairly easy until I had to find rhubarb. What the @^%$ does rhubarb look like? The word on the street was “red celery.” So the search began. And continued. And continued on. I mean if it’s not in the produce section of Kroger I have no idea where to look. Miracle of all miracles I ran into one of Jeremy’s high school buddies in the middle of the hunt. She’s super smart but also a nutritionist so I knew she would be able to lead me to the promised plant. Vegetable? Fruit? She confirmed that there was no fresh available and advised me to look in the frozen section. Genius.
The hunt continued. So while in the artic I am finding many new things but not rhubarb. Rhubarb?! Rhubarb?! Where are you?!!! So the cold caused me to remember something. Sometimes things that are frozen are also found in cans. Who is the smart one now!
The can aisle. Looking up and down. All around. Finally there it is! I grab 2 moderate sized cans to make sure I will have enough. Purchase all my ingredients and walk victoriously with my head held high to the car. Kroger did not defeat me this time!
When I got home I stripped the labels off the cans because it was a surprise, remember. And I still had a few days until the big day and I didn’t want him getting any ideas. I mean what else do you use rhubarb for?
So when the love day comes I commence baking. First let me say that I realized the first four or so ingredients just made the crust. Disappointing. I could’ve bought that. I tell myself that it will be better since it is homemade and press on to the filling part. This was easy. You just mix strawberries, rhubarb and sugar (maybe one or two other things small amounts though) together. This is going splendid. So the canned rhubarb is working out but it doesn’t look like red celery. Who was it that told me that? They must not know what they’re talking about. This was more like red/brown mush. Hmmm. So I cover the pie with the second crust and begin to bake.
The mush keeps sitting in my head. It really didn’t look like anything that would go with strawberries. Or in a pie. But then again, neither does “red celery”. I think about pulling the cans out of the trash but I remember I tore the labels off days ago. What to do? I tell Jeremy my dilemma in secret code. I may have messed up and I don’t know how to fix it.
I can’t shake it off. The pie is starting to emit an aroma but not that sweet smelling. Then I remember. Sometimes on can lids they give you some data like expiration etc. So against all odds I check it. This is what I see…
3/12/2012
RUTA
Now that is exceptionally odd. How do you spell Rhubarb. R-U- B something, something… I’m thinking.
Holy Holly Hobby!
I just made a strawberry RUTBAGA pie. For my hubby. For love day.
Yay.
Buying the ingredients to said pie was fairly easy until I had to find rhubarb. What the @^%$ does rhubarb look like? The word on the street was “red celery.” So the search began. And continued. And continued on. I mean if it’s not in the produce section of Kroger I have no idea where to look. Miracle of all miracles I ran into one of Jeremy’s high school buddies in the middle of the hunt. She’s super smart but also a nutritionist so I knew she would be able to lead me to the promised plant. Vegetable? Fruit? She confirmed that there was no fresh available and advised me to look in the frozen section. Genius.
The hunt continued. So while in the artic I am finding many new things but not rhubarb. Rhubarb?! Rhubarb?! Where are you?!!! So the cold caused me to remember something. Sometimes things that are frozen are also found in cans. Who is the smart one now!
The can aisle. Looking up and down. All around. Finally there it is! I grab 2 moderate sized cans to make sure I will have enough. Purchase all my ingredients and walk victoriously with my head held high to the car. Kroger did not defeat me this time!
When I got home I stripped the labels off the cans because it was a surprise, remember. And I still had a few days until the big day and I didn’t want him getting any ideas. I mean what else do you use rhubarb for?
So when the love day comes I commence baking. First let me say that I realized the first four or so ingredients just made the crust. Disappointing. I could’ve bought that. I tell myself that it will be better since it is homemade and press on to the filling part. This was easy. You just mix strawberries, rhubarb and sugar (maybe one or two other things small amounts though) together. This is going splendid. So the canned rhubarb is working out but it doesn’t look like red celery. Who was it that told me that? They must not know what they’re talking about. This was more like red/brown mush. Hmmm. So I cover the pie with the second crust and begin to bake.
The mush keeps sitting in my head. It really didn’t look like anything that would go with strawberries. Or in a pie. But then again, neither does “red celery”. I think about pulling the cans out of the trash but I remember I tore the labels off days ago. What to do? I tell Jeremy my dilemma in secret code. I may have messed up and I don’t know how to fix it.
I can’t shake it off. The pie is starting to emit an aroma but not that sweet smelling. Then I remember. Sometimes on can lids they give you some data like expiration etc. So against all odds I check it. This is what I see…
3/12/2012
RUTA
Now that is exceptionally odd. How do you spell Rhubarb. R-U- B something, something… I’m thinking.
Holy Holly Hobby!
I just made a strawberry RUTBAGA pie. For my hubby. For love day.
Yay.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Something to ponder when naming children
In this new day and age of search engines it makes it pretty easy to locate someone or at least get more info than if it were a more common name. hhhhhhmmmmmmmm. This is officially a new dislike for my name.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
My Comeback Post
No pressure right. Well this post will not live up to any expecations I promise. If you even have any. I don't. What am I going to say...
Last night while laying in bed I acclamied (don't worry it's PG)
"I could be a Jehovah's Witness" What I meant was who needs holidays when every day is wonderful and a blessing from God. Every day I get another chance to live and love and worship and enjoy. I'm good with that. Every day Jeremy makes me feel special so it really really is okay that we never celebrated Valentines Day for officially the first time in our relationship. A fact which still makes him feel horrible. Which further proves my point.
Also I decided that the hours between 10pm-2am if by some chance I'm awake and not drooling on my pillow already, consistently cause me to reminesce and feel nostalgic. And last night I wondered if that would always be true. And then I was thankful again that I can be nostalgic and cheerful at the same time. I want that always to be true.
Last night while laying in bed I acclamied (don't worry it's PG)
"I could be a Jehovah's Witness" What I meant was who needs holidays when every day is wonderful and a blessing from God. Every day I get another chance to live and love and worship and enjoy. I'm good with that. Every day Jeremy makes me feel special so it really really is okay that we never celebrated Valentines Day for officially the first time in our relationship. A fact which still makes him feel horrible. Which further proves my point.
Also I decided that the hours between 10pm-2am if by some chance I'm awake and not drooling on my pillow already, consistently cause me to reminesce and feel nostalgic. And last night I wondered if that would always be true. And then I was thankful again that I can be nostalgic and cheerful at the same time. I want that always to be true.
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