531...

...is my personal best. Today I drove from Columbus to Valdosta, in the morning, arriving there just before noon. Then leaving south GA, and driving diagonally across the length of GA to end up  in TN at dark.  Which means for all practical purposes, or at minimum braggin' rights, this is my best (or possibly worst) record for distance travelled in one day.

I vaguely recall when I was about twelve years old, the summer my dad decided he would drive from south Georgia to the Pacific Ocean and back. We drove and drove and drove in an old lime green Ford Fairlane station wagon.  Well before the era of Interstate highways. It was, I believe, the year my brother had a learner's permit, so I'm thinking that he was actually doing some of the driving. Which permanently relegated me to the back seat, which was covered in hot, sticky vinyl. Where I sat for three thousand miles (x 2), with a changing choice of fellow travelers, either parental or sibling-al, stuck to the gooey seat with me, in a car with no air conditioning, traveling in June across the desert of west Texas, plus the barrenness of Arizona, and desolate New Mexico.

There was my mom, scrupulously keeping records: of how much we paid for gas at each stop to refill, how many miles we were getting per gallon, as well as total miles travelled per day. What we paid for lunch when we stopped for burgers in west Texas or the desert of New Mexico. How  much we paid to spend the night in a Joshua Tree National Park campground. What it costs to get in to oooh and aaah at the Grand Canyon. What the tickets were for spending the day at Disneyland in California, or riding on the cable cars in San Francisco.

And making notes in the day planner where she carefully noted all the humorous signs placed in cornfields across the US from one coast to the other by the Burma Shave shaving cream company. The day my dad was desperate to make up some lost time/miles and drove over five-hundred miles in one day, she made him promise to never do that again. I think there were likely some serious marital threats involved when the children were out of earshot. 'Way too much time spent in the car from sunrise to sunset trying to get across west Texas, which is about the  most barren desolate place I have personally experienced in North America.

Which is why I know/knew that driving five hundred miles in one day is too much. But did it anyway to get from nearly Florida to practically Tennessee. I'm there. Thank you, Jesus.

Thanksgiving ....

...not just today, but everyday. We all have so many things to be thankful for. Health, heated homes, comfortable beds, warm clothing, plenty of food in the pantry, potable water at our fingertips, flush toilets that waste huge amounts of potable water, and on and on... But the thing I will always feel to be the biggest blessing in my life is family, and friends, and deliberately taking the time to be together, enjoy the company of those I cherish.

I made the pie last week, got the squash casserole put together on Tuesday night. It's been in the fridge, so I got up about 6 and put it in the oven. So large I think it needs to cook for at least an hour.
You remember that old joke about the thermos? The construction workers were having lunch  and talking about the greatest invention ever. One said light bulbs, one said gas engines, and then one suggested the thermos bottle. He got some strange looks from the co-workers, needing an explanation. So he said: 'It keeps hot things hot, and cold things cold.... How do it know?' Our rapidly evolving society is probably getting to the age of having machines that think for themselves: so perhaps we have finally out paced the thermos - but you'll have to agree: it's plenty smart to know what to do on it's own!

I will put the squash in a cooler, wrapped in layers of newspaper, and hope the cooler will know how to do the job, keep it warm until lunch: hot things hot, and cold things cold! There is also a ham that goes, so I will put that a cooler, along with pie - to see if they are smart enough to know which one is supposed to do what? Hoping to get organized and on the road by 8 a.m., to make the two hour drive to Atlanta area.  My auntie from Valdosta has been here with us a couple of days, to go and share Thanksgiving lunch with family in Decatur.

delectable desserts...

...is the stuff I made at work all day today. I had some severe-ly misplaced optimism about what would happened in the food demo. booth for the next three days. About as poorly located as my hope that I would be dishing up samples of the pre-made casseroles from the deli., side dishes to accompany the huge meat-y centerpiece of the Thanks. meal. I was hoping that all I'd be doing is cooking, and giving away bites of those yummy side dishes that are only seasonally available, but well-known favorites everyone expects to show up at the buffet on the over-eating holiday. You know: sweet potato casserole with crunchy, sugary stuff on top, broccoli casserole with cheese, beans with mushroom soup and crunchy onion topping.

But no: it was a make it from scratch event. Some of which were so strange, I would have liked to tell the test kitchen staff at corporate they need to go back to the drawing board. Not something that went over well at all with the passers-by, and total dis-inclination to want the recipe to reproduce for family.

Today was better: but not really what I was hoping. My optimism was once again, way off base. Nothing pre-made from the bakery freezer. Everything from scratch. But a couple of pretty tasty recipes. One was a layered trifle dish, that had eggnog and a crumbed up Sara Lee frozen pound cake, along with whipped topping and some ginger snaps. If you like eggnog, you would love this.

The other was a pie: I did not taste. Because it had: a jar of marshmallow fluff, a tub of cream cheese, a jar of Biscoff cream (which is basically spreadable Biscoff cookies), and a large slab of white chocolate (melted), all whipped together, fold in the topping, and put in graham cracker crust. Add more topping. Ugh. Too much sweet/sugar. Got lots of favorable comments. With quite a few people being so impressed, they wanted to put the ingredients in their carts to  go make dessert at  home.

Not me: I made my punkin pie last week and put it in the freezer.  The one that I probably gave the recipe for last year at holiday time. This is the one that I claim is mostly air, so light and fluffy that even though you feel as 'stuffed' as the turkey, you can happily fork in a slice of pie, because it doesn't need to be chewed, and takes up practically no room at all. Even though you have ate so much you would like to go lay down on the floor and digest, you can sit the plate with the slice of punkin pie on your distended belly and quietly, peacefully eat one more thing before your nap.

Here's the recipe, in case you don't want to look back... No cooking, yay!

Creamy Pumpkin Pie

1 cup canned pumpkin ( you can use either  pie filling or plain, un-seasoned pumpkin)
1/2 cup cold milk
1 teaspoon pumpkin spice, stirred into:
1 pkg. 6-servng size, jello vanilla instant pudding and pie filling (don't use the kind you have to cook)
8 oz. container whipped topping
graham cracker crust

Mix the dry pudding mix and spice together,set aside.Stir pumpkin into milk, then whisk in dry pudding mix. Mix well. Add thawed whipped topping, gently folding in to mix. Spoon into pie crust, refrigerate at least four hours, or freeze. Add more topping when you slice and serve.

undecided...

sounds like what I think when I get to the polling place and have my turn in the voting booth. But what the decision was today is whether to take a chance on going to Callaway Gardens to do the once-a-year Night Walk through the Fantasy in Lights. My smart friend P. and I have been doing it for several years, so we signed up weeks ago. Sent in our money and got tickets to take a hike in the dark around the light and music show.

But the baaadd weather rolled in mid-afternoon, pouring rain and blowing winds. So much that the tornado sirens went off, and the man who loves to fret about the things he cannot control was glued to the weather channel. And surprisingly: was not all gloom-and-doom. At one point, even saying 'it's supposed to blow on over in half' an hour'. When what I expected to hear from him is 'it's time to go sit in the bathtub and say your prayers;'.

So we decided to take a chance and go on up there, to see if all the wetness would quit. It cleared off so well on the drive up to Harris County, we saw a beautiful rainbow as we were headed north. And the rains discouraged enough people from attending (no rain date - only one shot at the walk-through), there was absolutely no crowd. We had a remarkably easy walk, without strollers, wagons, people bumping around in the dark. And beauty full lights and music. Plus not a drop of rain.

in total agreement...

...with what I read recently in a book by Simon Sinek. Suggested by daughter, who said she had heard about it at a conference. Talking about how to change the way America runs corporations, and how to develop leaders. I'm probably going to go to jail for quoting from copyrighted material. So go ahead and start looking for a cake recipe that has a file baked in, so you can bring it to me, on visiting day when I am behind bars.

The author noticed that in the Marine Corps training, the troops would go through the chow line before their sergeants. And the officers would be standing by waiting to be sure everyone else got fed first. Therefore, the title of the book is:" Leaders Eat Last".

Here's what really caught my attention, way over on page 119. Mostly because it is the same theory I have been espousing for years, and thankful someone else has finally caught on to what I've been saying. That we all have a limited amount of time here on this planet. Our most valuable and most frequently squandered resource.

     "Given our obsessive need to feel safe among those in our tribe  - our communities and companies - we inherently put a premium value on those who give us their time and energy. Whereas money has relative value ($100 to a college student is a lot, $100 to a millionaire is a little), time and effort have an absolute value.  No matter how rich or poor someone is, or where or when they are born, we all have 24 hours in a day and 365 days in a year. If someone is willing to give us something of which they have a fixed and finite amount, a completely nonredeemable commodity, we perceive great value. If we waste money, we can make more...But we've all had the experience of sitting in a meeting or watching a movie...and thinking to ourselves. "I will never get this time back".
     And it's not just time. Energy we give also matters. If a parent goes to watch their kid's soccer game but only looks up from their mobile device when there is cheering, they may have given their time, but they haven't given their energy. The kid will look over to see the parent's head down most of the game, busy texting or e-mailing the office or something. Regardless of the intentions of that parent, without giving their attention, the time is basically wasted for both parent and child. The same is true in our offices when we talk to someone while reading our emails or sit in a meeting with one eye on our phone... "

I've been telling anyone who will listen that I don't want more stuff  in my life. I already have more things than I want. What I want from people I care about is: time. Spent together, taking a walk, sitting on the couch giggling over funny pet videos on YouTube, sharing good eats. Enjoying that most valuable commodity with people who make me laugh. Your undivided attention.

a trainee for me...

... hilarious to think that my skills in the food demo. booth are such that I was qualified to train someone else. So there: truth really is stranger than fiction. I spent most of my day at work with a young woman, just barely college age, who thought she wanted to learn how to do the cooking.

She has, I think, been a front end worker for some time, possibly a cashier, and likely a carry-out person. My co-Aprons-worker had told me this young woman, M. was interested, and the managers had told her she could give it a try, work with one of us a couple of days to see how she liked it. I don't know how  much actual in-the-kitchen experience she has, but with me standing there, talking her through the recipe, she did quite well.

I'd sort of mistakenly formed the opinion that she would not be competent, just from conversations with my co-Aprons-worker. But she did a good job, seemed to catch on to things pretty quickly, and said that she enjoyed doing the food prep and serving. I was under the impression that this newbie would be working with the co-worker at some point. But was completely unsuspecting when she came up to say she was told to spend the day with me, learning how to cook. I don't think I've been at this 'new' job for two months, and the managers thought I was prepared to take on a training another worker?

I can't actually remember when I started cooking. I was raised by a mom who was a good cook, and spent time with grandmothers and other family members who were homemakers, feeding families three meals each day, every day of the week. So guess I probably started 'helping' my mom and grandma as soon as I was old enough to see over the edge of the countertop. I know I was cooking full meals by the time I was in high school. Before I took that Home Economics 101 class with all the info about the food groups, meal planning, basic nutrition. And long before I was the awardee of the Betty Crocker Homemaker of the Year Award my senior year. So I sort of feel like I have been cooking mostly forever.

And this trainee that I was working with today does not include the two I raised. Both of which can probably cook circles around me! And make really good things that I love to eat. Feed me!

it may be time...

...to reconsider something that you have always held to be a concrete truth. Here's one for you to ponder: The idea that Love is the most powerful bond, an ephemeral emotion between humans that will/can/does eternally form a powerful lasting connection. I was listening to public radio this morning, and heard a story that caused me to rethink this long held opinion.

It was really a review of a band called something like 'out among the willows'. That's not totally correct, but I know it had something to do with willows, and think they were from Canada. The songs in the most recent release was based on a huge cache of letters in the possession of a grandmother of one of the band members.  Correspondence sent to the grandmother in one of he northern mid-west states, maybe Michigan, from a man she eventually married. Sent to his beloved, while he was serving in WWII in the south Pacific. She had saved them all these years, and allowed the now-adult, music-writing grandchild to pore over those three hundred missives. Opening a window to history, seeing what the grandfather had written of his life, war-time experience and devotion to his future wife.

I don't think the story I heard mentioned how long they had been married, but the granddad is deceased, fairly recently, in the past two years. And I assume the grandmother is still living. This young adult musician wrote a whole album of songs based on what he wrote to her. Granddad did safely returned to the States, and they married. The last of the saved letters was one written a week before their wedding, with him telling he had just gotten a haircut, and was boarding the bus on the way back to her.

What I learned in all this, not really listening to the words of the couple of songs that we heard snippets of, but perhaps reading between the lines: is of his commitment. Which caused me to ponder long-term marriages I have been a witness to. Not many, but some of well over fifty years in duration. The prime example being my parents, and my mother's parents. I have a couple of clear memories of attending a Golden Anniversary celebration for my maternal grandparents. The party was held at my parents' home, with lots of local people invited. I was probably 18 years old, and I think assigned to the cake cutting/serving position.

And then there are my parents, who were together over fifty years. My mom adamantly did not want any celebration, no party, nothing to bring notice to herself or any recognition from the community where they had lived all their adult lives. I could not let the occasion go totally unrecognized, so wrote everyone in her address book, as well as many others in the community, to ask them to think of the past, write and send letters/notes providing a story, remembrance of some time/event/occasion they had been together. Then I put that correspondence together in a loose-leaf binder to give to them to read, reminisce and enjoy.

What I am thinking is there are times when Commitment is stronger than Love. That, for any number of reasons, long after the spark that kindled the relationship is dies out, the commitment lingers on. I have only my theory, but I am remembering when I used to hear Paul Harvey announce anniversaries on his daily radio show.  I now believe that it is more than possible, to the edge of being likely, those weathered mid-western couples who had been out there on the Nebraska prairie for sixty-plus year were there for reasons other than devotion. Or love. That many of those couples were still together out of habit. Or a sense of commitment: believing that saying 'I do' really meant 'I will', and that the commitment involved was stronger than the theory of love lasting till 'death do us part'. Feel free to read between the lines...

Written on Friday, November 7, 2014, as a result of driving from Columbus to Decatur, which was a stopover on my way to TN for the weekend.