Category Archives: General Interest

Last night’s cookie-baking… need to up my game on cookie placement. Several cookies baked into each other:-(

I started baking chocolate chip cookies for my husband two to three times a week in the past month or so.  My husband loves homemade chocolate chip cookies.  In the past few years, he eats less and less things, shows very little interest in eating at all and has developed very bizarre attitudes on many foods.  He has normal pressure hydrocephalus, which has caused  substantial short-term memory loss and he often gets very confused.  He also walks with an extreme side-to-side gait.  Before he was diagnosed, he kept telling me that whatever I was using to clean the carpets in the house was making his feet stick to the floor.  It took a long time to get an accurate diagnosis and then he had surgery in 2012 to implant a cranial shunt.

Keeping my husband eating has become a challenge, that I tackle by trying to find things he will eat.   A few years ago, when I was still working full-time at Wal-Mart, he had pretty much stopped eating.  His weight was dropping fast, so I became alarmed and began trying to find ways, that did not involve nagging.  I kept buying snacks and things I thought he would like and setting them on the table by his chair in the sun room, where he sits during the day, watching TV.  I also stopped nagging him about eating things that he said he doesn’t like now.  It’s very strange how my husband who used to eat just about anything, now has an ever-diminishing list of foods he will eat.  I also tried Ensure and supplementals to try to improve his nutritional intake.  That was a lost cause, because he said, “I am not drinking that shit!”   End of that conversation, but he does love Breyers vanilla fudge twirl ice cream with Hershey’s syrup on top.  He wants it in a Corelleware bowl, which holds about 5 scoops of ice cream – so 5 scoops is what I give him.  And he always eats all of it.  It may not be Ensure, but at this point, at least it is calories.

He does eat a 3 egg ham and cheese omelet with toast and V-8 juice every morning, so I make that for him every day too.  He never ate strawberry jam since I have known him (since 1980), but a few years ago he asked me why I hadn’t put the Smuckers strawberry jam on the table for his toast.  I hadn’t bought Smuckers strawberry jam for years,  like when our kids were still at home and back then, he never ate it.  I had some sugar-free Polaners strawberry preserves, which I use since I was diagnosed with diabetes about a decade ago, so I gave him that.  He told me that he wanted Smuckers strawberry jam.  So, I bought some and he eats it everyday on his toast now.  Lunch and dinner have devolved in much the same way.

A few months ago, he stopped eating store-bought cookies and Debbie cakes.   At Christmas I baked some peanut butter cookies and chocolate chip cookies.  My husband ate a lot of them and then a few days after those were gone, he asked me when I was going to make more chocolate chip cookies, thus my cookie-baking routine has become situation-normal here.   I used to love baking when my kids were young or when I used to bake cookies and cakes for my husband’s soldiers.  And now I am finding that instead of being an onerous chore – I actually enjoy baking one single batch of chocolate chip cookies every few days for my husband.  It doesn’t take very long to make a single batch of cookies.

I have slightly altered the chocolate chip cookie recipe on the back of the bag.  In southeast GA the humidity greatly impacts baking results, so instead of 1 cup of butter, I use a 1/2 cup real butter and 1/2 cup of vegetable shortening.  In addition to the salt and baking soda, I add 1 tsp. of baking powder, which helps the cookies rise a bit more and spread out less.  I had always used Nestlés semi-sweet chocolate chips, but I tried Walmart’s Great Value chocolate chips, which were only $3.68 for a 24 oz bag in my local Walmart ($3.88 at Walmart Online) , which makes TWO single batches of cookies.  The Nestlé 24 oz bag is $4.98 at Walmart Online.

Another tip on cookie-baking is regardless what type of cookie sheets you use – always use parchment paper on your cookie sheets.  Your cookies will bake without burning, they won’t ever stick to the cookie sheet and on top of that, clean-up is a breeze.  You just roll up the parchment paper and toss it in the trash, while washing your cookie sheets never involves scrubbing off baked on or burned on cookie dough.  Parchment paper should become your best friend when it comes to baking cookies.

Long ago, I loved baking all sorts of stuff besides cookies – cakes, pies, loved baking homemade cheesecake in my springform pan, and I even loved baking different types of bread.  My happiest kitchen memories with my family besides an endless stream of craft and cooking projects with my kids, were definitely cooking and baking for my family.  When my younger son was just a toddler, I, for some reason found some casserole recipe on the side of a macaroni box, with ham, spinach, cheese and macaroni in the ingredient list, an inspiration…  Really, I thought little children would love ham and spinach, LOL.  I had a lot of leftover Easter ham, so I happily made this casserole, totally confident my young children would love this.

My oldest daughter, already in elementary school, and my older son, weren’t shy about pronouncing this casserole, “disgusting” and “what were you thinking”.  My husband just smiled and said, “ham and spinach?”  And he raised his eyebrows, which said it all, on his assessment of this meal.  Our younger son, was a shy and very polite little boy.  He dutifully sat on his booster seat and spent more time moving the food around his plate than eating.  Finally, I asked him what he thought about this casserole, since he was the only one, besides our youngest daughter, who was still a baby, who hadn’t voiced an opinion.  He hesitantly said, “Mom, it’s really macaroni misery. We all started laughing. I told him if he ate two small bites, he could go play and never have to eat, “Macaroni Misery” again.

This meander down memory lane made me think of my favorite bakeware and actually, I think some pie plates I have are my favorites.  My youngest sister gave me a lovely Longaberger pie plate many years ago. It’s so pretty that I have never used it yet, because I don’t want it to accidentally get chipped.

Several years ago, when I was a zone manager at Walmart, Housewares received the most gorgeous, CorningWare etch pie plates with the Fall/Christmas seasonal merchandise.  Many times while walking the sales floor, I would stop and admire these pie plates for a few seconds.

One day the housewares department manager saw me holding one of those pie plates again, gazing longingly at it, as I was zoning up that area.  She came over to me and asked me why I was so in love with those plain white pie plates. I hadn’t realized she had noticed my secret passion for these PERFECT pie plates.  I tried to explain it to her, but by the confused look on her face, I didn’t think she understood.

Not long after that conversation, that housewares department manager and the hardware department manager came up to me and handed me a gift bag with a Christmas present in it for me.  They bought me TWO of those PERFECT pie plates. I almost burst into tears of joy.  I only use these special pie plates for special occasions.  I have used one to make a cauliflower side dish that I have made at holiday meals in recent years.

They are perfect pie plates, right???

Answer carefully, ROFL.

Have a nice day

The day kind of got away from me, so I never sat down to write a blog post.  I started another plastic canvas tissue box cover, this one is for my oldest daughter’s foster daughter.

Other than that I was busy working in my house doing some major house cleaning;-)

Have a good day:-)

Boys are a path of non-stop destruction… even when they are toddlers…

My oldest daughter’s playpen was in pristine condition when she got done with it.  My next child, a son, never sat in that playpen, except occasionally he would sit a few minutes with little plastic books, look at them a minute, then try to tear them apart with his teeth.  Most of his time in the playpen, he would run from one side to the other and throw himself against it.  He did that over and over until he tipped the playpen over and crawled away.  For his next escape tactic, he pushed his face against where the mesh met the netting and CHEWED A HOLE THROUGH NYLON THREAD….. trying to escape.  Finally he stomped in the middle, where the hand holes, for folding up the playpen were, while  holding onto the side of the playpen.   He stomped a hole in the bottom of that playpen, by the hand holes.

My mother had come to visit, because I was due to have my third child, another boy.  My mother, who had seven children,  said she had never seen anything like this.

First, my mother was appalled that I no longer had the nice cushioned playpen pad in the bottom of the playpen.  I had tossed in a small baby blanket.  I told her that he would demolish it, but she insisted on going to the store and buying a  replacement playpen pad.  I think that pad lasted a few hours, until he had it torn into pieces and was gleefully throwing the pieces over the sides of the playpen, onto the floor .

My very chubby son, wearing the infamous brown, high-top baby shoes.

Next my mother, never one to accept defeat easily,  went and bought a very nice wooden playpen and proudly told me, “He won’t be able to break that!”  He couldn’t tip it or escape, but he found other paths to destruction.  My mother told me that babies should have shoes and socks on.   So, off we went to the mall, so she could purchase some Stride Rite, brown leather, high top baby shoes.  We went to another store to purchase new socks and my mother even insisted on buying those little bells that attach to the shoelaces.

My mother proudly dressed Andrew and she was so happy with those expensive brown leather baby shoes, that she said looked so nice with the new outfit  she had put on him. My mother sat him in the wooden playpen and within minutes he had his leg up to his mouth.  He began chewing and within minutes, he had the socks unraveled down to the tops of his lovely expensive high top baby shoes.  My mother was so frustrated.

I got sick of those brown leather high top baby shoes, which my mother proudly boasted had nice thick soles.  Whenever I held my son on my lap, all he did was kick the heck out of my legs with those amazing soles on those, oh so wonderful, brown leather high top baby shoes.

When we moved to my husband’s next duty station, I found out what life was like with two toddler boys running amok in my home. You’d think pulling himself up and standing at the side of the playpen would be a child development benchmark for my second son. Nope, you would be wrong. He stood there holding on to the side of the playpen, having just learned to do that and immediately worked his leg up to the top on the playpen rail. He hooked his toes over the railing and pulled himself up, so that he was perched on top of the playpen railing.  Then he shifted his weight and dropped to the floor and crawled away.  He did that maneuver in his crib too except  his crib rail was pretty high and a scary drop to the floor – didn’t stop him.

My husband put a lock on the gate at the chain link fence in our backyard. Many times my elderly next door neighbor called me to tell me that my sons had escaped again. She told me her husband had them so, they couldn’t get any further. My husband and I walked around the backyard pondering solutions and I remember one time muttering, ” I don’t think it’s legal to use concertina wire on a residential fence.”   My husband did smile at that idea.

One time I walked into my kitchen and there was my second son sitting on top of our side-by-side refrigerator, gleefully waving his arms. We figured that he had climbed up to the counter using the drawer handles on the section of four-drawers, as toeholds.  How he made it to the top of the side-by-side refrigerator, I have no earthly idea.

Another day, I was in the kitchen washing dishes and I had noticed my sons making several trips from our backyard into the small bathroom on that side of the house. I decided that I had better see what they were up to.  They had taken our oldest daughter’s play kitchen pots and filled them with sand from outside.  In the sink of that little bathroom, they poured in potfuls of sand and mashed in nilla wafers, from their snack, then turned on the water.

It was like cement in that drain.  I made three trips to the Shoppette for various drain cleaners and nothing made a dent.  I called my elderly neighbors for suggestions, because that elderly man seemed to have a solution for every home dilemma and maintained a beautiful home and yard.  Within a few minutes, he was at my door and he came in and told me he would snake it.

When my husband came home, he said, “How was your day?”

Oh, it was just an ordinary day dealing with my husband’s sons…

One time I didn’t hear them get up and I woke up when I heard the vacuum cleaner start.  I rushed into the living room and there was my oldest daughter, trying to vacuum, as my sons, each with a box of cereal in hand, gleefully waving them around – throwing cereal everywhere.  My daughter looked at me apologetically and said. “Mom, I tried, but I couldn’t get them to stop.”

Yep!

Boys are definitely different…

More paper sorting today.  I found this print of a lady reading a letter, which I purchased in Prague, shortly after the Wall came down.  Very quickly, shopping trips to several Eastern bloc cities became a booming tourist industry.  I took one of those bus trips with my husband’s company commander’s wife and her sister, who had come to Germany to visit.

Thinking back on that trip several things struck me as worth mentioning.  The first thing I noticed when we entered Czechoslovakia was the towns looked very run-down and nothing like the towns in West Germany.  I was on a tourist bus with other U.S. Army wives and we were all excited, because of the lure of fine crystal and other high-quality wares available at bargain basement prices in Prague.

I purchased this print. despite it having a good bit of water-staining on it, because there was just something so romantic about this elegant little lady, reading her letter.  It was dirt cheap, just like just about everything else in Prague back then.

Now, thinking back on this trip, several things would assuredly not pass PC muster today.  The truth though is they were based on living in a fact-based world,  rather than a Leftist’s hazy ideological cloud.

Clowns I bought for my sons

As the miles rolled by, the tour director, an American lady, stood at the front of the bus and went through a rather lengthy list of rules, customs and above all else strong warnings about how to safely shop in Prague.  Can you imagine lengthy and detailed warnings about how to be on the look-out for and tips on how to deal with bands of gypsies, who really were thieves.  Yes, we were given a long list of things to keep your eyes peeled for, to avoid being mugged or even kidnapped by roaming bands of gypsies, who preyed the streets of Prague.

One of two wooden toy soldiers I bought for my sons (they never paid any attention to the knickknack gifts they received and most of them they left here at home)…

Along with warnings about the gypsies and bands of thieves, she went through a long list of dos and don’ts to avoid any problems with the Czech police.  By the time the briefing was over, I was wondering if perhaps, I should have just stayed in nice, clean, safe West Germany, but you know “bargain basement prices” sure worked to allay any fears.

Nice print

I have the worst sense of direction, of anyone I have ever met.  For decades my family laughed, because I frequently got lost getting off of and back on interstates, frequently being headed in the wrong direction.

Prague tested me.

Prague plate that refuses to hang straight

So, there we were my friend, the wife of my husband’s company commander’s wife and her sister, who had come to Germany to visit, and me.

Very quickly into this shopping trip it became obvious that Prague was a very different shopping environment.  There were not only numerous bands of dubious people, easily spotted as soon as we got off of the bus and headed from the train station into the center of the city.  Everywhere your eyes turned, as you scanned the shopping area, there were some of the sketchiest characters imaginable. , .  It should have registered as a really dangerous location. Every little side street or place you turned there were significant criminal dangers.  There were aggressive taxi drivers, just waiting to lure unsuspecting Western European shoppers into less than stellar neighborhoods.

We were also warned about how to deal with any interactions with the Uzi-wielding police.

Most of our day went off without any problems, until shortly before it was time to head back to the train station, to load up and head back to West Germany.  I forget exactly how my two shopping partners and I got separated.   It was one of those, “we’re going to run in this store, while you run in that last shop you didn’t want to miss” situations.  And with dirt cheap prices – let me tell you, most women will overlook a pretty risky-security shopping environment.

Pretty bowl

So, somehow when I came out the store, where I had been making my last great purchase, I didn’t see my friends in the store they had gone in.  I went in that store walked around and they were nowhere to be found.  I looked in every direction scanning crowds of shoppers and … a whole array of sketchy-looking people lurking everywhere I looked.

Oh, no, I thought, I am lost in Prague…

Well, immediately I began walking, head held high, a little swagger in my step, acting like I had a purpose, because they warned you not to stand around…. “looking lost”.  I kept glancing at my watch, worrying that each step might be taking me in the opposite direction of the train station.

Neat wooden abacus for my kids

We were also warned that the buses weren’t waiting around – so we needed to be there on time.  I walked a couple of blocks and then I made my second totally unPC decision of the day.  I spotted a small group of black ladies coming out of a shop. I made a beeline to them and asked them if they were Americans and they said they were and then I asked them if  they were part of the tourist groups parked at the train station.  Yes, I racially profiled… big time.

They told me they were just getting ready to head back to the train station, so I asked them if they minded if I stuck with them.  When I arrived at our bus, my friends were already there and they told me how they had searched for me and had no idea how we got separated. I assumed they were hunting in the store I had been in, while I as searching their store.

The amazing part of all this is we were so excited about all the amazing stuff we bought, that warnings of dangerous bands of gypsies and ruthless taxi drivers had made not even a dent in our enthusiasm;-)