Wow, was I missing out!

Let me start by saying I’m not a big caramel fan.  Or a sweets fan at all, for that matter.  But for some reason these really appealed to me, and I’m glad I finally tried them.  They are delicious and very easy to make.

Melt in the Mouth Vanilla Caramels

Makes about 2 1/2 pounds

1 cup butter or margarine
1 pound brown sugar
Dash salt
1 cup light corn syrup
1 14oz can of sweetened condensed milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Melt butter in a heavy saucepan. Add brown sugar and salt. Stir until thoroughly combined. Stir in corn syrup and mix well. Gradually add milk, stirring constantly.

Cook and stir over medium heat until candy reaches firm ball stage. 248 on candy thermometer; about 12 to 15 min. Remove from heat, stir in vanilla. Pour into a buttered 9×13 pan. Cool and cut into squares.

This may say you can use margarine, but I wouldn’t recommend it.  I tried it that way the first time and while still delicious, it never hardened so it was more like caramel sauce.  Another alteration that I made was to line the pan with foil and lightly spray it with Pam.  This made the removal (and cleanup) a breeze.

The cooking part isn’t kid-friendly, as the hot sugar could cause serious burns. The wrapping, however, is a perfect chore for little hands.  My 7 year old cut small squares from waxed paper and wrapped them with a twist.

Interestingly enough, this evening on television Alton Brown (Good Eats) also made homemade caramels.  His recipe is different, and he sprinkled sea salt on the top.  Intriguing to me, since I’m much more of a salty-than-sweet girl.  I promptly went to the kitchen to dip one of our caramels in salt, and I’m happy to report that it was, indeed, quite delicious.

Alton also recommended that you use a pizza cutter, and I will definitely try that the next time.  I’m sure it would take much less time than my knife-cutting method did.

If you try these, please come back and let me know what you think!

Sound good? Find my recipe and many others at Foodista!

Caramel

Tweet This Post

I will be contacting you for your shipping information. 

Enjoy!

Tweet This Post

A day that has been gut-wrenchingly painful, emotionally and financially. 

A day that has seen plans changed and dreams shattered. 

A day when it feels like much of my world is crumbling.

And on a day like this, what is there to do but hit your knees?

And as I did, something happened.

I thought of Judges. 

We’ve been having a series of sermons about the book of Judges, and they’ve been quite good.  If you are not familiar with the storyline, the basics are that the Israelites stray from God, bad things happen, they pray for Him to deliver them, He sends help, they are saved, rejoice, and then wander again.  Over and over this pattern repeats itself.  It is hard not to read this book and wonder how the Israelites themselves did not see this pattern and learn from it.

“Prone to wander, Lord I feel it, prone to leave the God I love”

Many times in my life I’ve felt that a sermon was speaking to me, that the message therein was one that I particularly needed to hear at that time.  But honestly I believe this is the first time I’ve heard a series of sermons that were preparing specifically me for something to come. 

Today as I prayed, this book and these sermons came to mind.  And I realized -

I am just like the Israelites.

How often do I wander on my own, taking my comfort for granted? 

How fervently do I pray when that comfort is threatened?

I’m sure you’ve heard that saying, There are no atheists in foxholes. 

True that.

How disappointing to realize this about myself, over and over again.  That no matter what I know, I still fail to implement it.  That no matter how hard I try, I fail.  Miserably.

I am ashamed that I don’t keep the same level of passion every day, because certainly God is deserving every day.  How it must hurt Him to be taken for granted.

And in the midst of my tears, I realized that today is a blessing.

This crisis is a blessing.

So often we have to be broken before we can be made whole.

It humbled me yet again, when I needed it yet again.

It helped to draw me back to where I belong.

It renewed my perspective and forced some changes.

They are painful, but they are progress.

Today, I am praising God for that.

I am thankful for my burdens.

I am thankful for the bad things that bring me to my knees, because that is where I belong anyway.

I’m thankful for a God who loves me enough to draw me back, every time I wander.

And I’m thankful for a day spent in intense prayer.  May they be more plentiful in my life, no matter how much rain it may take to bring them.

I will praise You in this storm.

Tweet This Post

I freely acknowledge that I’m a bit contrary.

It’s not that I want to be difficult.  I don’t mean to cause a problem.  And I’m a displaced Yankee Southern lady, so I certainly wouldn’t want to be any bother. 

I’m just…different.

If everyone is doing it, I’m probably not.

If everyone likes it, I probably don’t.

It’s just the way I roll.

I’ve been like this forever.  When Commodore 64 was all the rage, I was lovin’ my Texas Instruments.  When NKOTB had all the girls squealing, I was discovering Leonard Cohen.  While my friends left high school for college, I took a year off and weighed my options.

Contrary.

I never liked the popular guys in high school, never swoon over dreamy movie stars.  I’ll take me the offbeat brainiac in the corner anyday.

 Now let me warn you, several of you are going to be upset with what I’m about to say.  I know for a fact that a couple of you might even feel physical pain at what I’m about to tell you.  Allow me to apologize in advance.  I don’t mean to upset you.  And I’m not insulting you personally.  This is a macro situation.

As an adult, perhaps the biggest evidence of my contrariness (is that a word?) comes in the form of my shopping habits.  The great divide between myself and my friends is Target.  You know, the ‘discount’ store that you all love.

Guess who doesn’t?

Tar-jay.  Gag me with a spoon, people.  Target is the store that sells cute stuff for twice the price you could get it elsewhere.  (Cue the parade of loyal shoppers declaring that is so not true)  Every time I hear a Target person make fun of Wal-Mart, they cement my love of Wal-Mart and disdain for Target a little bit more. 

I know your opinion of us.

But as a Wal-Mart person, I can tell you that we have opinions of you, too. 

We think you’re snobs.  We don’t like the way you make fun of Wal-Mart, and drink your ridiculously over-priced coffee while you look down your noses at us.  We think you’re not nearly as smart as you like to think you are, since we buy the same products on rollback.  AND, we think the fact that Target does not allow the Salvation on their property is really, really crappy. [Yeah, I went there.  Again.  Stop me when it fails to be true.]

But how often do you hear a Wal-Mart person saying all that?  um, never.  Wal-Mart people can’t get away with it.  Yet it’s common and apparently perfectly acceptable for Target people to belittle us.

Target people, you know how you say that Wal-Mart is dirty and people there are rude?

Wal-Mart people see your store as putting on airs and your people equally as rude, but catty about it.

I don’t know why this little piece of retail real estate has come to mean so much to me, but it has.  Don’t even start on all of the things that are wrong with Wal-Mart corporation - I know.  And I could give you a Target laundry list in return.  I’m not debating the morality of big business here, I’m talking about the day-to-day attitude of the public.

The ‘Target is where it’s at’ mentality.

Maybe that’s why I’ve declared myself firmly in the Wal-Mart camp. 

I’m contrary like that.

Tweet This Post

Celebrate the day!

 “From there to here, and here to there, funny things are everywhere.”

Check out this page with lots of great resources for Dr. Seuss fun, including games, crafts, and assorted printables.

Of course you’ll need to read a silly book or two.

And after the kids go to bed, you might want to keep reading.  He is, in my humble opinion, one of the best philosophers of our time.  Practical and to-the-point in a fun way, but the fluff never detracts from the weight of his message.

“It’s a troublesome world. All the people who’re in it
are troubled with troubles almost every minute.
You ought to be thankful, a whole heaping lot,
for the places and people you’re lucky you’re not.”

“I know up on the top you are seeing great sights, but down at the bottom we, too, should have rights.”

“Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It’s not.”

And of course the entire book Oh! The Places You’ll Go!

I love Dr. Seuss.

My favorite book of his was actually his first – And to Think That I Saw It on Mulberry Street.  It saddens me every time I meet someone who has never read this book.  Very sadly, for some unknown reason, it never gained the broad appeal of many of his other books. 

It’s a wrong I’m going to help to right today, in my own small way.  I’m giving away 2 copies to lucky readers.  Just leave me a comment here and you’re entered!  If you’d like an additional entry (optional) you can tweet/blog/post on Facebook about this giveaway, linking back to this post.  Please leave me a separate comment if you do that so I can be sure you get credit for multiple entries.

Already have this book?  I’d be happy to buy you a different one, or you could donate to your child’s school or your local library.  In the words of a very wise man,

“The more that you read, the more things you will know. The more that you learn, the more places you’ll go.”

Thank you, Dr. Seuss, for inspiring very many children to go to very many places.

Tweet This Post

More challenging is the fact that this bee is open to the entire county, not divided by age, and it includes kids through the 8th grade.

[Actually the rules state that it is for kids through 8th grade or 16 years of age, but somehow I'm thinking that if you're 16 years old in the 8th grade, a spelling bee probably isn't your thing.]

I’m really proud of her for taking this on. 

Don’t get me wrong – we don’t think she’s going to win.  In fact, if you ask her she’ll tell you that she’s entering the first round of a spelling bee.  We figure if she can get through the first round, the rest is gravy.

She’s a great little speller, but a 7 year old against a 16 year old is hardly fair.  I blame the organizers for not having a better system.  But I give lots of credit to my spunky little girl for wanting to do it anyway.  She isn’t afraid to go up against kids more than twice her age, even knowing she’s going to lose.  Once she saw Akeelah, she mapped out her path pretty quickly.  “I’m going to do that some day,” she told me.  And I have no doubt that she will.

Gumption, she’s got. 

She’s so smart, so brave, so confident.  She’s fearless.  There’s nothing she thinks she can’t do and do it well, and she always, always goes for it.  She never gives up, never backs down.  She’s so tiny for her age, and yet so scrappy.  So determined.  So much wiser than I am.

Once upon a time, I was like her.  I would put myself out there.  Once upon a time I, too, would go for it.

I lost that somewhere along the way.  I lost my confidence and my courage.  But I look at this little girl and I admire her tremendously; she makes me think I could get it back.  She inspires me to do better - to be better.

In many ways, my young daughter is a role model for me.

On Tuesday night, I’ll be the proudest Momma in the building, regardless of the outcome.  The first round of the spelling bee this year is just practice for next year – the year that she wins it all. 

I know she can do it.  And even better, she knows she can, too.

Smart girl.

Lucky me.

Tweet This Post

All great change in America begins at the dinner table.  -Ronald Reagan

I am a person with guilt.  Often over little things, like the time I threw a fit because my mom bought be the wrong clippie stuffed animal.  I believe I was 4 at the time.  I still have guilt over that.

I’m also a person with regret.  I don’t generally dwell on things, but there are a few that I can’t let go of, and my grandparents’ table is one of them.  Or rather, the table they used to have.  They are both gone now, making that long-lost table seem all the more precious.

Many years ago they moved from their lifelong home and auctioned off many of their possessions.  I knew at the time that I wanted that table, but I was a college student with a small apartment and no space for a second table.  Like an idiot I kept mine (from Value City Furniture – good call Heather) and let theirs go, and to this day I feel sick to my stomach when I think of it.  It’s no antique; in fact, it was a cheap table in mediocre condition with absolutely no monetary value.  But if I had any way of knowing where that table was now, I’d pay top dollar to have it back.

I’m thinking of it tonight because I found a paper I wrote in college.  The assignment was to write one page about a perfectly ordinary, inanimate object and make the reader care.  And to this day, I care very deeply about that table.

—————————————————————————

The Table

There is a table at my grandparents’ house.  This plain, brown, worn-out old table is a treasure to the two beautiful people who own it.  No one in the world means more to me than them, and no thing in the world means more to them than that table.

The furniture itself is not the treasure; the table is a symbol of love and family.  The backs of the chairs are worn and faded from years of heavy use.  On hot summer days their finish softens, and shirts cling to the moist varnish.  The arms of the chairs are worn down from years of rough treatment and not-so-gentle hands pushing them back under the table.  The table’s legs are nicked and scratched, and it is by no means considered beautiful.   Appearances aren’t everything, though.  Few material possessions could hold more beauty than does the table in Grama’s kitchen.

Pap doesn’t fully understand why she won’t let it go.  The table, or half of the other furniture that Grama loves so dearly.  To this day I can hear them bickering over the old ironing board, so well-worn that it must be propped up on the counter to be used.  My father’s clothes were ironed on that same board forty-odd years ago.  Pap says that they should buy a new one, but Grama refuses.  “For memory’s sake,” I can hear her explaining over and over again, but Pap just shakes his head.  No one really understands like Grama.

For every aging piece of furniture that she clings to there is a story.  There is a story that makes the ironing board worth putting up with, and the ugly table worth holding on to.  I can remember when Grama decided to put a new cover on the stool in the kitchen – the one that sits in front of the paper plate drawer.  It always sits in front of the paper plate drawer, most inconveniently, and for no reason other than that’s where it’s always been.  For years, every time their decor changed, the stool cover changed, one layer on top of another.  Not so long ago the covers all came off.  Everyone laughed at the dozen or so different layers of material, but not Grama.  No one else quite understands.  A new cover went on, and the stool is now at home in a new corner of the kitchen.  It’s just not the same.

The table is the most talked about, though.  Everyone laughs, and they say they can appreciate her sentiment, but no one really does.  No one knows like Grama.

Twenty years ago, two beautiful little girls crawled underneath that table and decorated.  There are still pencil scratchings bearing the names of Amy and Beth, joined years later by the artwork of their little sister.  The family laughs at the mischief and moves on.  No one understands.

Two other little girls have joined the family since then, and I wonder where their names are.  Some may call it destruction, but to Grama it’s making memories.  Maybe we should show them where to write.

Maybe no one understands, but there is no denying the love in my Grama’s treasures.  What some look at as just ordinary furniture are some of her most prized possessions.

And to tell the truth, I think Pap does understand.  Sure, he’s not as vocal, not as teary-eyed or sentimental as Grama, but he also overestimates his ability to hide his emotions.  For all of his harassment, I know that Pap must understand or new things would have moved in long ago.

But still…no one understands like Grama.

We all appreciate that someone cares for us so deeply.  We love the comfortable, homey feeling of Grama’s house.  But no one really understands like she does.

I want to.  I want desperately to understand, to have the same memories and the same sentiments that my Grama does.  My parents told me once that I inherited her heart, and there is no bigger compliment that they could pay me.

Just thinking about Saturday mornings with Pap and Grama, Coco Wheats and bacon, riding through Seven Creeks in the back of Pap’s pickup, playing Trouble, sneaking into Pap’s Twinkies, and falling asleep on their shaggy brown carpet can make me cry.  I know nothing better in the world.

There are a million moments with my grandparents that I treasure, a million memories and a million hugs that I could never forget.  But nothing feels as good as going ‘home’ to their house, and no thing will ever be as precious as that old kitchen table.

————————————————————-

I ache with longing to see them again.  To sit at that long-gone table and share one more meal, play one more game.  I would give almost anything to have that table today.  But I don’t, and I can’t change that.

The only thing left to do is create a table of my own, one memory at a time.  And today, that is exactly what we did.

Tweet This Post

I’m going with Prompt #1.

10 Reasons why you’re better off without him….or her….or it.

1. You don’t love me the way that I love you.
2. You’re empty inside.
3. The good moments we spend together are fleeting at best.
4. You look good on the outside, but looks are deceiving.
5. You take more than you give.
6. You’re never around. You think once a year you can sweep me off my feet, but I require more than that.
7. I can’t afford you!  Good grief, you burn through my money in the blink of an eye.
8. After we’re together, I feel bad about myself.
9. You don’t care about making me feel bad, either. You just sit there and mock me, relentlessly.
10. You’re not loyal.  You cozy up with women all over the place and I’m supposed to just take it.

Wow.  I was planning on writing about someone something else entirely, but when I got going something else entirely just poured out.  I’m guessing some of you can relate.

photo credit: this is a thing

Die, Girl Scout Cookies. 

I need you dead and gone.

I literally ate 3 thin mints while on the treadmill today. 

My judgement has been compromised.

And I am ’supposedly’ training for a half-marathon and participating in not one, but two fitness challenges as well.

Not. Looking. Good.

But my frozen Samoas only come around once a year, so how can I say no to that?

Clearly, I cannot.

And this, my friends, is the tale of why I will never again wear a 2-piece bathing suit.  Because I have the willpower of a…dang.  What’s the rest of that sentence?  A person with no willpower?

I’ll have to have a cookie while I think about that for a minute.

Tweet This Post

• That killer whale who just killed a trainer at Sea World?  Apparently he’s a serial killer.  Maybe we should stop saving the whales.
• A couple of weeks ago I won a giveaway over at Cinnamon Hollow for Country Bob’s All-Purpose Sauce.  I’m not generally much of a sauce gal so I had my reservations.  I’d say that it tasted comparable to A-1.  Most attractive to me, however, was this statement in the company literature:  It would be nice if we could claim responsibility for the success of the company, however, credit must be given where credit is due. Proverbs 16:3 says, “Commit to the Lord whatever you do, and your plans will succeed.” We have placed true ownership of Country Bob, Inc. in the hands of God. “Christ is our CEO” and  He is an Awesome Boss! Now that is a company I want to support!

• Despite how it must look to my readers, I do not have 42 appliance garages or a kitchen the size of a cracker box.  For some reason this just always ends up being my food snapshot locale.
• I’m on a DIY/go green kick.  To be perfectly honest, it’s more about saving money than saving the environment.  (I’m not even going to go there with my issues on saving the planet)  In that vein, I’ve been using natural products like baking soda, peroxide, and white vinegar to clean, and I’ve been making my own laundry detergent.  Do you have any other tips you could share?
• I love HGTV.  I’m a DIY kinda gal anyway, and I love real estate so I especially like the house-hunting type shows.  I find myself wanting to shake some of the buyers, though.  Why can they not see past ugly paint colors?  Why are they unwilling to put any work into a place?  Have they no imagination???  This makes me crazy.
• Chris’s company gives out bonuses at the beginning of the year.  Very sadly, this year not so much.  I, on the other hand, continue to reap bonuses from my job every day.

• I have the best job in the world.

• Girl Scout cookies.  Everywhere.  If you need some, please come to my house.  I need them to go away.
• I don’t think I ever told you this, but I did post it on Twitter/Facebook.  And I told everyone at church, too – because I’m klassy like that.  My parents bought me a leg lamp for Christmas.  You know, the leg lamp.  My husband hates it.  Because he has no sense of humor, and is easily embarrassed by me.  Nonetheless, it did hold the appropriate place of honor in our [front] living room window this past holiday season.  And because I love it so much (and I’m super klassy), it’s still in the living room, though now on a side table instead.

• When I was a kid we had a neighbor that told my mom she’d always wanted to have a room in her house for all of the things that she knows are tacky, but loves them anyway.  I feel exactly the same way.  Leg lamp would love a room like that, methinks.
• I’m frustrated with our school’s PTO.  They have zero communication (don’t even announce meetings!), overpriced fundraisers, and are not at all accessible.  I’m writing a letter to suggest some changes, but I am still in need of some GOOD fundraising ideas.  Got any for me?  Overpriced wrapping paper needs to die.

That’s all I’ve got.  It’s not that NaBloPoMo is wearing me down; quite the contrary, actually.  I’ve been surprised that it’s been easier than I anticipated.  It’s just that I am sick – again – still.  My whole body aches, as it has off and on for the last 3 months.  Spring can’t come soon enough.

Tweet This Post

This does NOT work for me, and I need your help.

Every afternoon, my house looks something like this:

And frankly, some days it’s a whole lot worse than this.  These are just the pictures I’m willing to own up to.  And these are just the 3 rooms the kids spend the most time in after school – the family room is not as publicly visible so I’m not so worried about that.

A few things I’m working on.  The kitchen table, for example, is currently a dumping ground for coats and backpacks.  I’m building a cubby with compartments for each of the girls to store their school shoes, coat, backpack, and lunchbox, so hopefully that mess will be contained in…the garage, I’m thinking?  Wherever the cubby ends up, anyway.  So that will help.

But honestly, my biggest daily challenge is just stuff. Random things that I don’t know what to do with – they don’t have a home, but they aren’t garbage, either.  Missing parts of toys, broken things that need repaired (but I can’t sit down and do it immediately), assorted school papers, newspapers/magazines I’m going to look at later – that kind of thing.  What do you neatnik readers do with all of that stuff?

I also need to get better about having the girls clean up as they go.  Annie does this very well, but her sisters not so much.  Catie whines and complains, and Lilly’s just too young to do it without heavy supervision.  I am definitely guilty of doing it myself after they go to bed, just because it’s easier.  Bad of me, I know.

So tell me, please – what works for you?

Tweet This Post