Raising the roof

Yesterday I went to a six year old's birthday party.  It was early evening, and at the celebration were a small group of six adults, and four boys between the ages of six months and six years.  I do not remember the last time I was around four boys between the ages of six months and six years, but WOW.  If we could bottle up just one hour of their combined energy, I have no doubt that we could power the entire state of Texas for at least six months.  Of the 20 photos I shot, not a single one is completely in focus.  It's impossible, these kids move too quickly and their direction of movement is completely unpredictable. 



The above photo is the most in-focus that I have and let's face it, he's six months old.  But just as I snapped the photo, he whipped his head around to explode a huge grin of love and happiness at his Mum.  When I look at this picture of him, I want to give him an award for World's Most Yummy Cheeks.  Seriously, that face!

The birthday boy tried very hard to be patient while the party ate pizza and birthday cake.  He wanted to jump into that pile of presents because afterall, they were all for him!  When the moment came, he was a blur of unwrapping activity, gushing with delight and appreciation, jumping up to give hugs and thank yous, then jumping back into the pile of gifts to open the next one.  It's refreshing to witness such young and unfiltered excitement. 



This is the second birthday party I have been to at this house in the past five days, and the third in the past two weeks.  Each has been different and each has provided me with a moment of gazing around the room or the back yard and smiling because these people and their guests? I like them. A lot. They are my people, my friends, and I have thoroughly enjoyed the celebrations this month. 



Happy birthday, my September friends!

The recipe

In response to last week's post, I present to you the recipe:

Chicken and Artichoke Casserole

1 3-lb. Frying chicken, cut into pieces
1 tsp Salt
1/4 tsp Pepper
1/2 Paprika
3 Tbsp Butter
1 10-1/2 oz. can Condensed cream of chicken soup
1 Tbsp Chicken stock base
3 Tbsp Dry sherry wine
1 Tbsp Fresh lemon juice
1 9-oz. can Artichoke hearts (Note: Double this. You won't be sorry)
1 4-oz. can Sliced mushrooms

• Sprinkle chicken with salt, pepper and paprika. 
• Melt butter in the casserole and roll chicken pieces in it.
• Bake in hot oven (400°) until light brown, about 15 minutes.
• Combine chicken soup, chicken stock base, sherry, lemon juice and tarragon and heat just to boiling. 
• Arrange artichoke hearts between and among the chicken pieces, and spoon over drained mushrooms.
• Pour hot soup/stock/sherry sauce all over the chicken, artichokes and mushrooms.
• Cover and bake at (350°) for 45 minutes, or until chicken is tender.
• Do a little dance, because what you are about to eat is so very yummy.  Your tastebuds are going to be very happy with you.

Makes four servings.

Happiness

What you cannot see in this picture is my niece sleeping on the couch.  Five minutes before the picture was taken, Cheyenne discovered her "wooby" in a still-packed box upstairs.  I think it's fair to say that between my niece being here and the found wooby, she's one happy dog.



* Postscript: "Wooby" = Cheyenne's baby, her toy, her blankie, her precious angel baby thing.  In her case, it's a $2.99 pillow from Walgreens, which I bought years ago as possible comfort following her surgery.  She loved it.  She sleeps with it, tosses it, chews it, flips it, ignores it and then happily discovers it again.

Two tablespoons

Last night I cooked my first dinner in my new house.  The dish I cooked was from a recipe of my mother's, one I used to request often for my birthday dinner.  About a (many) years ago, my mom requested that I type the recipe for her.  I'm not sure why I did so on a sheet of her employer's stationery, but that's where it is.  I remember setting the tabs on the typewriter in her home office before beginning the task.  The result of that request landed beneath a push-pin on the inside of the cabinet just to the right of the stove at our family cabin.  If stayed there, right above the handwritten recipe for Aunt Edna's pecan pie, for years.  Recently, I relocated the recipe, its paper yellowed with age and spotted with grease, from that cabinet door to a shelf in my kitchen pantry. 

The dish is a chicken and artichoke casserole.  It has a fabulous smell while it's in the oven and a unique taste that I love and only last night realized to be the combined flavors of lemon juice, tarragon and cooking sherry.  I hadn't made it in years, and last night as I was preparing it, doubling the artichokes as always, I felt such a wonderful connection to my mother.  It was a connection not through the piece of paper but from preparing a meal that she used to prepare, from smelling the tarragon and pouring the sherry.  I was struck by how wonderful it is how a special recipe can connect us to the past, can connect us to memories and people in our hearts.  This time was particularly special as I made the casserole in the same dutch oven that she used all those times she cooked my favorite birthday dinner. 

And the bonus?  I have leftovers!

Morning light

Dear Person who first created Wedge Salads

Dear Person who first created Wedge Salads,

Thank you, thank you, thank you! Your salad is the perfect solution for when I have no idea if I want a salad, an entree, or both.  When my eyes fall upon Wedge Salad on a menu, I suddenly have found my way out of the this or that confusion. Plus? Extra points for giving new life to Iceberg lettuce. 

For your blue cheese and bacon, creamy, crunchy, iceberg-resurrecting goodness, thank you!

p.s.  I think if you and Caesar ever had to arm wrestle for a Best of title, you'd win. You would definitely win.

A life among the boxes

I am loving, loving, LOVING my new house.  Unpacking is a slow process, much less stressful than the packing portion of the move.  I'm taking my time unpacking because I don't simply want to shove something out of sight, I want to put things where they belong, where I have a chance of finding them when I need them, when I want to look at them, or want to read them.  The other day, I think I unpacked 15 boxes and while I could see the results because there were no more boxes in my living or dining rooms, when I went upstairs and looked in the guestrooms, it looked as if the boxes had been breeding and multiplying like bunnies. 

Where did all this stuff come from? 

New address

On the day I chose to move from my old house to my new house, mother nature had a little surprise in store for me.  The day was yesterday and the surprise?  A tropical storm that somehow I was completely unaware of until I opened the Tuesday morning paper and read that I could expect it to rain all day long.  And it did!



The rain made for a particularly wet move, and every towel I own was put to use on the floors.  The rain may have also made for a bit of stress on my part.



But soon enough, every piece of furniture and all the other items of my life were in the new house, my bed even made and ready for my tired self to land there.



And this morning? What a delight to wake up in my new home.  Now the fun begins!

Bits and bobs

1.  This morning I received an email from an indecipherable address that bounced my reply to leave me the f*** alone.  The email was brief, "YOU WON SEVEN HUNDRED AND FIFTY THOUSAND POUNDS IN THE GNLD AWARD SEND YOUR
NAME:
COUNTRY:"

Really? I won 750,000 pounds and they (whoever the folks behind the GNLD award are) don't even know my name?  I wonder if anyone, anyone at all responds to this email, if anyone thinks, I won, I won, I WON!  How would they know, exactly?

2.  My house has not yet sold.  It has been shown a multitude of times but not an offer has been made.  My realtor tells me that my house shows well but on reflection, I realize that I don't know what that means, exactly.  When my realtor relays some of the comments made by prospective buyers, I find that I want to find these people and ask them if they are nuts.  One woman said that if I added a bathroom downstairs, she would buy the house. What do I have here? Oh look, it's an extra $10,000 in my back pocket that I was just looking to throw away! Add a bathroom?  Seriously? I wanted to find her and tackle her to the ground, preferably in a puddle of dirty water.  Another said that she didn't like the neighborhood.  To her, I would say one word:  Research!  Before this time in my life, I never considered how personally one can take the comments made about the house she is trying to sell.

3.  Tuesday is moving day.  Finally.  It's been hard to live in one house while wanting to live in the other but a few things had to take place before I could move, things like having a Seagrass runner installed on the stairs so that Cheyenne could go up and down them without fear of or actually slipping.  She has a fear of hardwood stairs, that one does. 



I couldn't be happier with the results.

4.  Hopefully my house will continue to show well when empty.  Hopefully, it will continue to show so darned well that it sells.

I'm off to pack.  Have a great Labor Day Weekend.

Blessings

Every morning I see silver linings and I feel hope.  It's magic, pure magic. We're all blessed, in ways both large and small, in ways we can see... or not.  I see though, I see!