Baby Love

I guess I fell in love with my uncle Vaden when I got the Chicken Pox and my Momma and Daddy had to leave me in Danville with my Grandma Maude. I wasn’t old enough to be in school and I don’t have the slightest idea why I was that far out of town in the first place, havin a fever and all, but all I know is that they left me there and there I stayed until I got better.

My Momma’s Momma wasn’t the nurturing type so I’m not sure she knew what to do with me, but my uncle Vaden would check on me ever mornin’ and every afternoon; he‘d bring me a present. He was my medicine.

He was probably one of the only men I ever let spoil me…cause I learned later in life about “Greeks bearin’ gifts” and so while I love Greeks, I don’t accept their gifts without reservation and my famous sideways squinty-eyed glance. (Trust issues form early you know.)

Uncle Vaden was a big man, he must’av been 6’4 or so and had some meat on his bones. His hair was a black as coal, and he had a big ol’ nose and a boomin voice, “Moses like” as my friend Mr. Pat said. He moved real slow…I guess it took some thought to move all that presence at once and keep everything so smooth. But he did it. He had a swagger. Later in life, after I’d seen Gone with the Wind, I would liken’ Uncle Vaden to Clark Gable…all be it with a big ole nose.

He was excitin’ too. Momma said he was kicked out of every school Grandaddy sent him to. He and my Daddy were best friends and would skip school when they were young and go over to neighborin counties to find trouble, Momma said Uncle Vaden wrecked every car they ever had. She said, it was good the War came along when it did, or they would all be dead.

He did his time and bein big and havin swagger, made it out alright. He told me stories about he and Momma winnin' Jitter-bug contests all over the county and travelin to Richmond when the Big Bands hit town. He loved to dance, drink, and win...a man after my own heart!

He loved his Momma and took great pride in drivin her and her friends to Richmond to shop and stay at the Jefferson Hotel in the Winter and the Cavalier at Virginia Beach in the Summer. He had the life.

After the army he moved down to Fort Lauderdale for a spell and was Captain of the Lifeguards. He loved the beach and swam like he walked, real slow. I could not for the life of me figure out how that man stayed afloat…swimming that slow and all.

But all good things come to an end and his Daddy said he needed to think about a serious job, think about joinin’ him in the tobacco market. So Vaden went with his daddy and worked with the Imperial Tobacco Company purchasing tobacco all over the world; Turkey, Africa, South America, he had stories on top of stories and I never, ever tired of hearin’um.

He was a bachelor for a long time, but always had a shiny black car and a blond girlfriend. He married late, which was fine with me. They didn’t have any children so I remained the center of the Universe in his eyes. He and Irene took me on vacations when I was little. I remember they tried to teach me to play tennis, (thus begin’n my early fear of fast movin’ balls). They took me to restaurants and always ordered me a “Shirley Temple” so I could sip along while they partook of a little “Taste” as he used to call it. He often gave me a little "taste", thus ruinin my appetite for Scotch for life.

Uncle Vaden was extravagant and preferred the top of the menu; one of the few differences I ever saw him and Irene have was when she thought my young appetite might be appeased more so from “chopped sirloin” than the Porterhouse he ordered for me. Irene won that one and I remember when my dinner came, I turned to her and said, "Irene, this iddin' steak...its hamburger," and so Uncle Vaden called that waiter right over and said, "Bring this child a steak!"

When I went to college, every month he would send me a little spendin’ money, five dollars a week, every week, for four years. No strings. After I graduated and started workin, he would tape a ten or a twenty under the bottom of a Russell Stover Sampler that he would give me after a visit. He’d say, “Here Honey, git yourself somethin’ special.” Not bein a “takin” girl…I don’t have the words to say how this made me feel, all I can say is that I made sure I didn’t pay bills with his “Honey-money” I made sure I did as he said, and “got myself somethin’ special.

I could go on, but bottom line is, every little girl falls in love before she even knows what it’s all about and I was blessed to have my Uncle Vaden as a measurin’ stick. I miss him now...and I always will.

WVG: 12-12-1918 to 2-12-2010

PS. He loved Buck...and Buck loved him.

You Get What You Get

I have a dear friend who is going through a rough time right now. It makes me stop and wonder...why? What is the karmic justice in all of this? I don't think there is any. Sometimes you just get what you get. Why do bad things happen to good people? Why do good things happen to bad people? There is no reason...no justice...no underlying cause. It is what it is.
In a world where people have free will...they choose what they do, when they do it, who they help, and who they hurt. Some people choose to make the same mistakes over and over, to brood over small injustices, hide the truth, or keep score. They stir the shit....and as Lurlene would say, the more they stir it the more it stinks.
Thankfully, there are more people who use their free will in more compassionate ways. They are the ones who take what they get and dress it up in the best possible cloak and move on. They look for the best in others and are convinced that it is all good. They find happiness in the budding of a flower, the songs of nature, a bubbling soup, or the touch of a friend. These are the people we love dearly....and who cherish the good in everyone they meet.
Of course then...there is me.....who would just like to take the shit stirrers and drop kick them to Neptune.

Just Send'um Outside

That Mojo Cake Baby gits around. I was thinkin I could try and track the Mojo as it moves about the neighborhood. This is surely a photo throwdown to you VeraLee. I caught that child outside playin' in the snow covered Mandingoes, probably tryin' to cool her butt off after bein cooked in that King Cake the other night.
Where...will (s)he turn up next?

House of Gumbo

Well....after three snowstorms, Bubba decided to use his Voodoo Mojo to stop the constant accumulation. We declared Mardi Gras and dared everyone to trek to the House of Gumbo. Lurlene usually bakes the King Cake for our Mardi Celebration but she gave me a lot of crap about having no ingredients. That left me searching the internet....that complicated series of tubes which brings info even during blizzard conditions...for a suitable recipe. Bubba hates for me to be in the kitchen as I can really stir up a mess but in I went to make a cake out of whatever we happened to have. So at Lurlene's request, here is the "Use What You Have in the House During a Snowstorm King Cake" recipe.

King Cake
Ingredients
• PASTRY:
• 1/2 cup milk
• 2 tablespoons butter
• 1 (.25 ounce) package active dry yeast
• 1/3 cup warm water (110 degrees F/45 degrees C)
• 1/4 cup white sugar
• 1 eggs
• 3/4 teaspoon salt
• 1/4 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
• 2-3/4 cups all-purpose flour
•
• FILLING:
• 1/2 cup packed brown sugar
• 1-1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
• 1/3 cup chopped pecans
• 1/4 cup all-purpose flour
• 1/4 cup raisins
• 1/4 cup melted butter
•
• FROSTING:
• 1/2 cup confectioners' sugar
• 1-1/2 teaspoons water

• Scald milk, remove from heat and stir in 2 Tablespoons of butter. Allow mixture to cool to room temperature. In a large bowl, dissolve yeast in the warm water with 1 tablespoon of the white sugar. Let stand until creamy, about 10 minutes.
• When yeast mixture is bubbling, add the cooled milk mixture. Whisk in the eggs. Stir in the remaining white sugar, salt and nutmeg. Beat the flour into the milk/egg mixture 1 cup at a time. When the dough has pulled together, turn it out onto a lightly floured surface and knead until smooth and elastic, about 8 to 10 minutes.
• Lightly oil a large bowl, place the dough in the bowl and turn to coat with oil. Cover with a damp cloth or plastic wrap and let rise in a warm place until doubled in volume, about 2 hours. When risen, punch down and divide dough in half.
• Preheat oven to 375 degrees F (190 degrees C). Grease cookie sheet or line with parchment paper.
• To Make Filling: Combine the brown sugar, ground cinnamon, chopped pecans, 1/4 cup flour and 1/4 cup raisins. Pour 1/4 cup melted butter over the cinnamon mixture and mix until crumbly.
• Roll dough out into large rectangle (approximately 10x16 inches or so). Sprinkle the filling evenly over the dough and roll up tightly like a jelly roll, beginning at the wide side. Bring the ends of the roll together to form an oval shaped ring. Place ring on a prepared cookie sheet. With scissors make cuts 1/3 of the way through the rings at 1 inch intervals. Let rise in a warm spot until doubled in size, about 45 minutes.
• Bake in preheated oven for 30 minutes. Push the doll into the bottom of the cake. Frost while warm with the confectioners' sugar blended with 1 to 1 1/2 tablespoons of water.

VeraLee's Post is Missin' In Action

That woman...she wrote a post and then deleted it...she did tell me about it and it was one of those stories from our past...the ones I told her to write because I would forget. So I am waitin!

I will forgive her however cause she and Bubba turned out some fine Mojo Gumbo last night. It had a slow burn that started on the back of the tongue and worked it's way all the way down to the Shack. (Ask MeMe about the Shack) To top it off, VeraLee made a King Cake that set me to dream'n last night. I won't say more cause she is gonna write about it.

The Manager sent his "Boo" over to pick up Buck cause of his hip. It was nice, hav'n door to door service like that. I felt like an olympic curler or kurler...or fast person on skates and a broom, cause I was sweepn' in front of every step Buck took. We must have looked a sight. But the main thing was that we got there without a slip and had a great time just bein with friends. When its snowed for two days on...even slugs git a little tired of the same-o-same-o.

Be'n from Chicago, the Manager puts on Snow tires the first of November. We all depend on him to take us places when it snows; so he called me yesterday mornin to see if I needed anything in the line of groceries, thank God, cause we were out of anti-snow venum and needed a bottle of red and a bottle of white. Glad he got'um too because that's all we had to share for the gatherin'. Guess that's what made the walk home so easy!

Nannuk LaMae (our little snow bunny) came through the back alley, she is so used to bein' a back door girl that she brings a second pair of shoes in her purse. She gave us the followin' report; the alley was icy, the snow was deep and Bubba hadn't swept off the back steps. Things we didn't know already. She's cookin tonight, the chili she put back when she found out I was cookin last week. It's Superbowl Sunday don't cha know, and besides be'n our seasonal Teena, she is also the only Teena that has experienced the sportif lifestyle. The rest of us believe a sprint is what you do when you want to git to the yardsale before VeraLee. (I once locked her in the car so I could beat her to a table I saw, but that's another story)

Mr. Jude and Dennis are still havin to walk the mile driveway up to their house in the "country" and so they couldn't justify takin a risk tryin to git to the gumbo last night. See, that's what happens when you move out of the Friendly Village! Hawks got his chickens the other night, that was sad, but hawks gotta eat too I guess.

Purl didn't git out either cause she is havin some bad stomach pains, brought on no doubt by VeraLee tellin her she was the sickest young person she had ever met. (See Curse Words for what that means)

Okay, didn't mean for this to actually turn into a post...but as usual, once you wind me up...I've got to let the ham out. So, all that bein' said, VeraLee put your post up!

Is your Mojo workin?

VeraLee and I don’t “wish” for a parkin spot or, “hope” we find a four-ply cashmere sweater while junkin, we expect our pure intention assisted by Miss Universe is enough to get the job done. It’s our Mojo. We discussed this the other day while on a Two-Bit Teena Second-hand tour.

We figure our job is to actively look and listen, cause Miss Universe never fails. There are days she is slower to answer than others, but we figure that’s an answer too, and then there are days when we laugh cause she reminds us to “be careful what you set your intentions on cause you may not know where to put it if you got it.”

Bein’ a Mojonista means bein careful…and slow to anger, nobody want’s to be responsible for spewin bad Mojonese in a moment of “unfitness.”
I don’t like the word “lucky” mostly cause of the undertoad which is ”Unlucky”. Veralee and I think that basically you have to take an an active part in makin your own fortune.

Now I realize I have spoken for her here, but she is in a reflective state this week and is livin in her head, not commitin to paper or action. She’s washin out some bad mojo I fear, but promises to come back stronger and wiser next week.

At Home With Lurlene: Not Retired, jus Re-purposed

So on January 1, 2010 when I decided to “re-purpose” my life, I had this plan that I would indeed cook all the recipes I pulled out of the paper and at least once a week I would engage in something “inspiring” like writing on Just Mustard, gittin back to my Bite-me-Maps, or mastering a new craft. Well, the month is near closin and to be honest;my work table is still an unclean space, my utility room is unmanageable, and jus yesterday, I washed a pair of black jeans along with all of Bucks underwear. Grey is now, the new white. (Buck said it didn’t matter that nobody saw our underwear anyway.)

It’s taken much longer than I ever imagined to get in the rhythm of this new life. I love it when 5:00 o’clock rolls around because I know what to do: open a bottle of Cooks, slice apples and cheese, light the fire and sit back. Five is easy, what do people do with those other hours of the day?

Now, in all honesty, I have accomplished a few things. I made a resolution that if I ripped a recipe out of the paper, I had to cook it! My first was Habitant Pea Soup (it’s a French Canadian fav.) I must say, it was tasty, so for your pleasure, the recipe is at the bottom. But, what I learned was that I enjoy the hunt more so than the actual process. I mean I had an actual “list of things to purchase” before I could begin. A "to purchase" list is the equivalent of a "To-Do" List don't you think? Anyway, I actually dressed to go to the store and find fancy yellow split peas and “Turkish bay leaves.” I enjoyed perusing the “uppity” food stores, grazin the isles looking like an “Ingredient Queen” all the while knowin that most of my spices come from the dollar rack at CVS, but the folks at Penzeys didn’t know that.

I jus had to smile yesterday about lunch time, cause I had five gadgets workin at the same time, I had my BBQ cookin in the crock pot, was puree’n my butternut squash soup in the blender, choppin with the Cuisinart and doin’ a little julienne thing on the mandolin. While all this was goin’ on, all I wanted was a Smart-One (3 points) sitting cool and plenty in my freezer. I thought to myself, “Why in God’s name am I makin all this mess when I can have butternut ravioli in about 3 minutes in the microwave?”

The repurposed life is filled with mystery (and avoidance), speaking of which I’m headed over to MeMe’s, Diet Pepsi in hand, to see her new blond highlights. If you feel inclined, here’s the Yellow Pea soup with the fancy name.

Habitant Pea Soup (Both a geography and a social study lesson)
Habitant refers to people who live in rural Quebec
Ingredients
2 cups dried yellow peas
2 quarts chicken broth
2 onions, chopped
2 stalks celery, chopped
1 carrot, chopped
1- 12 oz ham hock ( I went right to Food Lion for this cause all my ham was gone and by the way, who weighs a ham hock?)
1-2 bay leaves (These from Pinzies, Turkish, you know)
salt and pepper (fresh ground)
1 pinch thyme (my own…better than Pinzies)
¼ cup crème fraiche
Directions
Place peas in a soup pot, cover with the cold water and soak overnight. Next morning add the chopped vegetables, ham bone and bay leaf. Bring to a boil, then lower heat, cover and simmer gently for 3 to 4 hours. Stir mixture occasionally and add a little boiling water to keep soup at the right consistency. Remove the ham bone and the fancy bay leaves and add the rest of the seasonings (amount of salt will depend on the saltiness of ham bone) Take out about three quarters of the soup, let cool and then puree in the blender. (If you don’t let it cool, it will explode when you hit “whirrrrrr” and it’s not pretty, trust me) Return the smooth soup to the pot and reheat. Then jus dollop crème fraiche (or good ole american sour cream if you want to be non-Canadian and non French)
It was really good, even Bucky ate it and he doesn’t usually do yellow or split pea.