When I went with the assorted cousins on the road trip last Friday, the town that is closest to where the in-laws live, nearly in Alabama, is Cave Spring (be sure you do not at an 's' to either of these words - always singular). A wee small village, with less commerce, from the little I saw, than that struggling burg in south GA where my family resided for many years. But pretty in a small town way.
After we had lunch and a visit with the llamas who were enjoying the afternoon shade, we went into town to the park and enjoy the beauty. It seems that 'Rolater Park' owns itself, like that tree you might have heard of in Athens GA that was somehow legally deeded to itself. I've never heard about this type thing occurring anywhere else, but would like to think: it is not an occurrance that only happens in the south. The rest of the world thinks we are a bunch of loony red-necks any way, and hearing about property that holds it's own deed, just makes us sound even more hopelessly hopeless. The twenty-nine acres was donated to the city by a Dr. Rolater with the understanding that the property would always be public property and never developed for commercial use. At one time, there were buildings (several still standing, and renovated, occasionally in use) on the acreage that were part of a state facility/school for the deaf. Now a renovated meeting hall remains, along with a pretty little brick church and a large home (formerly dorm space) refurbished and open as a Bed and Breakfast Inn.
Any way, it was a really pretty park, just a block from the downtown area. Lots of activity going on in the swimming pool (shaped like the GA state outline0 filled with lots of kids from the Cedartown Boys and Girls Club, plus various locals. The pool water is supplied by the spring, so I imagine the water is seriously cold. Kinda like that pool in south GA that I remember going to over many summers that would now feel like glacier-fed ice water. The one we saw on Friday was obviously thoroughly enjoyed by the mob of kids that were splashing and shouting in the distance. I was told that the water is not treated in any way, but that the pool is drained once a week and refilled by the running water from the spring to keep it relatively clean. You can imagine that there might be various forms of wildlife inhabiting the pool, so always the opportunity for surprised when you jump in. The bottom is solid, has had concrete poured and graveled over, rather than what one might find in a farm pond, or creek that wends it way out of the mountains. I did not get close enough to the pool to observe the water clarity, but suspect when there are not bodies in keeping the water stirred it, it would be relatively clear, being spring fed.
The rest of the group I was with went in the cave (Cave Spring, right?) but I was more than willing to wait for their reappearance while I sat on a bench. Caves not being my thing, I was not the least bit curious about the origin of the spring. But you can imagine how cool it must have been going inside the crevice into the hill from which the spring springs forth. I would surmise that the spring being used as a water source for locals goes back hundreds of years, before recorded history. We saw families filling gallon plastic jugs at the source to take home for drinking water, and it is the local water supply.
It was just so pretty and spacious, with vast open areas of neatly trimmed lawn, and tidy picnic shelters over wooden tables. A few groups using the facility, with kids running around, and adults sitting in the shade of the covered pavillions. Just so park-like, open and welcoming. A pretty place to visit, with ducks paddling in the pond, burbling stream of crystal clear water constantly flowing through, inviting feet to step into the pebbled bottom and cool off. So welcoming and park-like.
Sunday, August 11, 2013
Saturday, August 10, 2013
Looking for llamas....
After working on Thursday, I got my ducks in a row to drive up to Decatur in the late afternoon. If there is traveling to be done going some distance, I try to spread it out over more than one day to prevent 'asleep at the wheel' (though I can't recall the rest of that particular song.). The cousin who lives in N. Decatur was going on a little road trip on Friday, and, as usual, in order to go someplace interesting, I had invited myself along.
There are in-laws who live to the west of Rome, out in the country, nearly to the Alabama line, in a (modern day) log cabin. She, L., is very much into therapy animals. And was recently in Decatur for some training of therapy dogs, which is how I had the opportunity to pester her with questions and learn so much about both the process of getting animals certified as 'therapeutic'. This family enjoys rural life with an assortment of livestock, including a number of large German Shepherd dogs, chickens, horses, cows and llamas. I think most of the dogs are 'professional', with experience as either show dogs or trained to visit public places like nursing homes and schools as therapy animals.And a couple of dogs that live outside in pens that are rescues.
I was so intrigued by the idea of llamas being therapy animals - and actually just llamas in general, when the crowd in Decatur started talking of making a trip to west Georgia, I was hoping to go along. So we went on a llama visit. They are really interesting: just to look at. Apparently will domesticate very well, to the point of coming in the house, as they will only 'do their business' where it has been done previously. Which means they apparently have the ability to hold it until it is convenient to make a deposit at the right time and place.
The pair we saw on Friday had recently been shorn/clipped, with a full coat only around their heads, so looked a lot lighter, smaller, more delicate than one with a thick insulating coat would appear. We fed them a few carrots, that the little llama mouths very politely took from fingers.
One of the two (both females - much more tractable than males) are halter trained, and apparently much more docile and agreeable when they have their halters on. They also have 'costumes' with 'clothing' and hats they will agree to wear when in public, and are often attendees at parades and other events with crowds of people. I'm thinking they would probably be reluctant to do the 'dress up' routine and a feel pretty silly wearing articles of clothing, but must be really agreeable to be so willing to Play the Fool for humans. You have to admit that seeing one strolling down the street dressed as a person would certainly be eye-catching and traffic-stopping. L. said one of the 'girls' is probably already ready to be certified as a therapy animal. Think about walking into a nursing care facility to visit a family member and encountering a well-dressed llama in the hallway??!
There are in-laws who live to the west of Rome, out in the country, nearly to the Alabama line, in a (modern day) log cabin. She, L., is very much into therapy animals. And was recently in Decatur for some training of therapy dogs, which is how I had the opportunity to pester her with questions and learn so much about both the process of getting animals certified as 'therapeutic'. This family enjoys rural life with an assortment of livestock, including a number of large German Shepherd dogs, chickens, horses, cows and llamas. I think most of the dogs are 'professional', with experience as either show dogs or trained to visit public places like nursing homes and schools as therapy animals.And a couple of dogs that live outside in pens that are rescues.
I was so intrigued by the idea of llamas being therapy animals - and actually just llamas in general, when the crowd in Decatur started talking of making a trip to west Georgia, I was hoping to go along. So we went on a llama visit. They are really interesting: just to look at. Apparently will domesticate very well, to the point of coming in the house, as they will only 'do their business' where it has been done previously. Which means they apparently have the ability to hold it until it is convenient to make a deposit at the right time and place.
The pair we saw on Friday had recently been shorn/clipped, with a full coat only around their heads, so looked a lot lighter, smaller, more delicate than one with a thick insulating coat would appear. We fed them a few carrots, that the little llama mouths very politely took from fingers.
One of the two (both females - much more tractable than males) are halter trained, and apparently much more docile and agreeable when they have their halters on. They also have 'costumes' with 'clothing' and hats they will agree to wear when in public, and are often attendees at parades and other events with crowds of people. I'm thinking they would probably be reluctant to do the 'dress up' routine and a feel pretty silly wearing articles of clothing, but must be really agreeable to be so willing to Play the Fool for humans. You have to admit that seeing one strolling down the street dressed as a person would certainly be eye-catching and traffic-stopping. L. said one of the 'girls' is probably already ready to be certified as a therapy animal. Think about walking into a nursing care facility to visit a family member and encountering a well-dressed llama in the hallway??!
Saturday, August 3, 2013
reading while driving...
Not all that dangerous, when the books are on CDs. It keeps me amused during the lulls when there is nothing except sleep-inducing music on the public radio stations. And provides excellent fodder for blogging.
The book I just finished was obviously written by a Brit. I was entertained as much by some of the unique phrasing and expressions as the story line. The title is 'Sight Unseen', author: Robert Goddard. Mine was a talking book, with about eight or nine discs - probably an hour or so each, so that all adds up to about eight hours driving time. There was plenty of that on Friday when I went to SC and halfway back. A pretty good tale, with a very surprising ending.
Though I will never be accused of texting while driving (typing with ones' thumbs has to be the most tedious thing on the planet!), I confess to trying to write down some of the amusing things I heard when the book was being read. Just things you'd never hear locally, especially in the south, where we rarely encounter the 'proper' King's English. Sometimes it just the pronunciation, more than the terminology, that caught my attention: like pronouncing the word for the place where people are buried as 'symmetry'.
They apparently do not wear pants, as the word 'trousers' cropped up occasionally (and under that are the 'knickers'). When they ride bikes, and need to leave it someplace, the wheeled device is left in the 'cycle rack', after being removed from the 'carriage way'. If they are making a call on a portable phone, it is not called a 'cell', but a 'mo-bile', and if you have to leave a message when there is no one there, it is left on the 'answer phone'. When you stop by a friends' house, instead of knocking on the door, you might use the 'bell-push' to try to get someone's attention. Should you want to send your friend correspondence, you would 'post' it in the 'letter box'. And if you receive mail, you 'sort through the post' when you look at your correspondence. You don't wear athletic shoes, or tennis shoes, you have 'trainers' on your feet, and if you do strenuous exercise, you will then need some 'warming off' instead of cooling down.
If you need to travel, and do not own a vehicle, you get a 'hired car', and would, of course, need to put 'petrol' in the tank, and leave it in the 'car park' when you stop. When you hope for a discount price, you ask for a 'knock-down rate', and when you go to get your purchase, you 'collect' your items.Going out at night, don't forget your 'torch' (flashlight) so you can see in the dark. Be wary of encountering 'nutters' (crazy people), and careful to not find yourself 'gob smacked' in a sticky situation. Traveling, you would put your large suitcases in the 'hold luggage' if your bags are to be checked.
I'm sure they think we are hilarious too... especially with our drawling accents!
The book I just finished was obviously written by a Brit. I was entertained as much by some of the unique phrasing and expressions as the story line. The title is 'Sight Unseen', author: Robert Goddard. Mine was a talking book, with about eight or nine discs - probably an hour or so each, so that all adds up to about eight hours driving time. There was plenty of that on Friday when I went to SC and halfway back. A pretty good tale, with a very surprising ending.
Though I will never be accused of texting while driving (typing with ones' thumbs has to be the most tedious thing on the planet!), I confess to trying to write down some of the amusing things I heard when the book was being read. Just things you'd never hear locally, especially in the south, where we rarely encounter the 'proper' King's English. Sometimes it just the pronunciation, more than the terminology, that caught my attention: like pronouncing the word for the place where people are buried as 'symmetry'.
They apparently do not wear pants, as the word 'trousers' cropped up occasionally (and under that are the 'knickers'). When they ride bikes, and need to leave it someplace, the wheeled device is left in the 'cycle rack', after being removed from the 'carriage way'. If they are making a call on a portable phone, it is not called a 'cell', but a 'mo-bile', and if you have to leave a message when there is no one there, it is left on the 'answer phone'. When you stop by a friends' house, instead of knocking on the door, you might use the 'bell-push' to try to get someone's attention. Should you want to send your friend correspondence, you would 'post' it in the 'letter box'. And if you receive mail, you 'sort through the post' when you look at your correspondence. You don't wear athletic shoes, or tennis shoes, you have 'trainers' on your feet, and if you do strenuous exercise, you will then need some 'warming off' instead of cooling down.
If you need to travel, and do not own a vehicle, you get a 'hired car', and would, of course, need to put 'petrol' in the tank, and leave it in the 'car park' when you stop. When you hope for a discount price, you ask for a 'knock-down rate', and when you go to get your purchase, you 'collect' your items.Going out at night, don't forget your 'torch' (flashlight) so you can see in the dark. Be wary of encountering 'nutters' (crazy people), and careful to not find yourself 'gob smacked' in a sticky situation. Traveling, you would put your large suitcases in the 'hold luggage' if your bags are to be checked.
I'm sure they think we are hilarious too... especially with our drawling accents!
recipe for chicken cheese casserole...
Alternately known as 'canned goods casserole' found in Mom's Majik Mox that arrived in TN on Friday.
Quick and Easy Chicken/Rice Casserole
1/2 large onion (I used Lots more!) and/or diced celery/bell pepper
2 T. butter
1(6 to 10 oz.) can white meat chicken
! can chicken broth
1 can cream of chicken soup
1 1/2 cups shredded sharp cheeze
1 c. rice
pepper to taste (1/2 to 1/4 tsp.)
Cook onion (and other veg. if desired) in butter in microwave for 1 min. on high.
In medium casserole dish, put can of chicken (undrained), stir to separate chunks.
Stir in other ingredients. Bake 350 at least 30 min., until rice is done. Stir before serving.
Some people do not like celery, and comment in the addition/inclusion with great enthusiasm. I'm always looking for more vegetables on my fork, so I would certainly add extra of the onions, celery and some diced bell pepper would be good... or shredded carrots if you want to make it colorful. Factor in, Me: the person who was always smuggling vegetables into things, where ever it might be sufficiently disguised to be consumed by the people who adamantly oppose consuming vegetables in any form. How about adding in some of that prolifically reproducing zucchini - shredded, to sort of, possibly, vaguely look like ... noodles? pasta?
Quick and Easy Chicken/Rice Casserole
1/2 large onion (I used Lots more!) and/or diced celery/bell pepper
2 T. butter
1(6 to 10 oz.) can white meat chicken
! can chicken broth
1 can cream of chicken soup
1 1/2 cups shredded sharp cheeze
1 c. rice
pepper to taste (1/2 to 1/4 tsp.)
Cook onion (and other veg. if desired) in butter in microwave for 1 min. on high.
In medium casserole dish, put can of chicken (undrained), stir to separate chunks.
Stir in other ingredients. Bake 350 at least 30 min., until rice is done. Stir before serving.
Some people do not like celery, and comment in the addition/inclusion with great enthusiasm. I'm always looking for more vegetables on my fork, so I would certainly add extra of the onions, celery and some diced bell pepper would be good... or shredded carrots if you want to make it colorful. Factor in, Me: the person who was always smuggling vegetables into things, where ever it might be sufficiently disguised to be consumed by the people who adamantly oppose consuming vegetables in any form. How about adding in some of that prolifically reproducing zucchini - shredded, to sort of, possibly, vaguely look like ... noodles? pasta?
Did you read "Cold Mountain"...
...by Charles Frazier? I remember there was a lot of talk, and it was prolifically reviewed, when it was first published years ago. Embarassedly, I admit I do not remember much in the way of details of the story. But do recall it was mostly about a man's journey home following the end of the Civil War. Amazing to think that the vast majority of those who fought, and lived to tell about their experience, in that war were young men who walked every where they went. Trekking on foot, carrying all their possessions on their backs, getting from places like southern Alabama and Florida to central Pennsylvania, Virginia and home again on worn out shoe leather, or bare feet.
I recently read another book by the same author, that was so good, so interesting, so well written, with amazing details, thoroughly researched, I did not want it to end. Part of the reason it was so enjoyable is that it was a 'talking book', and was read by the actor Will Patton. Pretty long, as there were at least a dozen cd's in the case, but a very good story. The lead character in the book, whose name happened to also be Will, was living in the Indian territories in north Georgia and east Alabama before the 'removal', when native Cherokees were forced from their homes and land to the mid-west.Frazier tells of a remarkably full, long colorful life, with richly detailed experiences, tales of travel to Oklahoma, and back east to Washington. Even though he was made up from whole cloth, Will was so imaginatively described and beautifully wrought in words, it was as if I had walked along through his life, envisioning the people he encountered and the all the changes he witnessed, and geography he travelled.
I imagine that Frazier does a tremendous amount of reading, traveling, doing research and note taking before he begins to write. The documentation of the daily details of the lives of (invented) people who lived two hundred years ago was so precise, so clearly described, the book was a delight. "Thirteen Moons" was long, no telling how many miles I drove while reading/listening, but a wonderful traveling companion.
In my next life, I might apply for a job as a Book Reviewer... probably not a very good one, as I rarely find one that is so difficult as to be unreadable, or does not capture my attention enough for me to finish. I'm going to be the reviewer that finds something to recommend in every thing I read. Even though it does occasionally occur in my completely random reading choices. I have, at times, started one I can't wade through - and only in recent years have been able to say to myself: 'you don't have to write a report - so no, you don't have to read something so tedious it is annoying.' And: 'yes, you can return it to the library with your bookmark/post-it note stuck at half-way through...'
I recently read another book by the same author, that was so good, so interesting, so well written, with amazing details, thoroughly researched, I did not want it to end. Part of the reason it was so enjoyable is that it was a 'talking book', and was read by the actor Will Patton. Pretty long, as there were at least a dozen cd's in the case, but a very good story. The lead character in the book, whose name happened to also be Will, was living in the Indian territories in north Georgia and east Alabama before the 'removal', when native Cherokees were forced from their homes and land to the mid-west.Frazier tells of a remarkably full, long colorful life, with richly detailed experiences, tales of travel to Oklahoma, and back east to Washington. Even though he was made up from whole cloth, Will was so imaginatively described and beautifully wrought in words, it was as if I had walked along through his life, envisioning the people he encountered and the all the changes he witnessed, and geography he travelled.
I imagine that Frazier does a tremendous amount of reading, traveling, doing research and note taking before he begins to write. The documentation of the daily details of the lives of (invented) people who lived two hundred years ago was so precise, so clearly described, the book was a delight. "Thirteen Moons" was long, no telling how many miles I drove while reading/listening, but a wonderful traveling companion.
In my next life, I might apply for a job as a Book Reviewer... probably not a very good one, as I rarely find one that is so difficult as to be unreadable, or does not capture my attention enough for me to finish. I'm going to be the reviewer that finds something to recommend in every thing I read. Even though it does occasionally occur in my completely random reading choices. I have, at times, started one I can't wade through - and only in recent years have been able to say to myself: 'you don't have to write a report - so no, you don't have to read something so tedious it is annoying.' And: 'yes, you can return it to the library with your bookmark/post-it note stuck at half-way through...'
motoring across the border...
I got up at 3:00 a.m. on Friday morning. Deliberately. So certain that I needed to get up in the middle of the night, I set two alarm clocks to be sure I did not miss out on roaming around in the wee hours. I've tried to use the alarm on my phone, and have set it in the past. But don't know how to turn it off/delete, so once it is set to wake me at 4 or 5 a.m., it continues for all eternity, once I get it started: therefore not an option for waking up.
I needed to take a shower before getting on the road. I don't think anyone can fully understand how anxious big-city traffic makes me feel. How stressed I get when I find myself driving in a situation where there are literally hundreds of other motorists around me, whizzing by at frightening speeds on highways that are six lanes across, all heading in the same direction - with most apparently having left the starting point/house running ten minutes behind.
I was headed to South Carolina, and wanted desperately to be well outside the 285 perimeter before everyone else - all three million of them - got out on the roads headed to work/school/criminal activity. So I figured if I left home by 4 a.m., I could be out on I-85 headed towards SC by 6'ish. I usually try to get to Greenville around 10 o'clock, and leave there around 4 to head back to Decatur.
But this time, instead of heading back towards GA when I left my pen-pal's house, I went to visit a cousin who a recently relocated to Greenville. She will be teaching in the education department of a small college nearby. I went to see her new abode (literally new - just completed huge apartment complex.) The family of one human and two cats seems to be pretty well settled in, though there are still plenty of boxes for feline amusement. We went to get a bite to eat before I had to start back south.
One should always fill up with gas before leaving SC, as the prices there are usually anywhere from twenty to forty cents lower than GA. Got back to Decatur about dark, and surprisingly not falling- down tired. But I did sleep really good last night.
I needed to take a shower before getting on the road. I don't think anyone can fully understand how anxious big-city traffic makes me feel. How stressed I get when I find myself driving in a situation where there are literally hundreds of other motorists around me, whizzing by at frightening speeds on highways that are six lanes across, all heading in the same direction - with most apparently having left the starting point/house running ten minutes behind.
I was headed to South Carolina, and wanted desperately to be well outside the 285 perimeter before everyone else - all three million of them - got out on the roads headed to work/school/criminal activity. So I figured if I left home by 4 a.m., I could be out on I-85 headed towards SC by 6'ish. I usually try to get to Greenville around 10 o'clock, and leave there around 4 to head back to Decatur.
But this time, instead of heading back towards GA when I left my pen-pal's house, I went to visit a cousin who a recently relocated to Greenville. She will be teaching in the education department of a small college nearby. I went to see her new abode (literally new - just completed huge apartment complex.) The family of one human and two cats seems to be pretty well settled in, though there are still plenty of boxes for feline amusement. We went to get a bite to eat before I had to start back south.
One should always fill up with gas before leaving SC, as the prices there are usually anywhere from twenty to forty cents lower than GA. Got back to Decatur about dark, and surprisingly not falling- down tired. But I did sleep really good last night.
mom's majick mox...
Here's the real story on the box...
She loves to get that box of cosmetics every month. She has always, as long as she has been self-propelled, had a fascination with things to decorate with - putting things on her face and painting her nails as soon as she could get the containers open. I have highly amusing photos of a three year old with brilliant blue eyeshadow in copious amounts generously applied across the top 1/3 of her face. A little girl who loved to plunder in her grandma's purse with the red lip color as her goal. So when her sister discovers Birch Box and has an assortment of new products, mostly in sample size, mailed to her every month, it is an anxiously awaited Big Deal upon arrival.
In an effort to get more information, from someone who stays very busy with her job, and life in general, decided it would be interesting/amusing to send surprises in the same vein, to possibly help with a ongoing problem (ie: not enough time to plan a meal) plus get a response. So I have been reading recipe books, and have actually been doing so cooking: a rarity at my house, as I have been on strike for several years. Looking for good things to eat that are fairly simple, with ingredients I could send, along with the recipe for assembly.
I'd read about something similar to the Birch Box in magazine months ago, and thought: that's a great idea, since it was food related. You could sign up and get a box once every four weeks that would supply a 'hard to find' ingredient, along with the recipe for some new dish to try. Plus some music to accompany the meal.
I was profoundly unimpressed with the thought of someone else choosing the music. And equally unimpressed with the idea of paying for the one exotic ingredient (with the recipient scrambling around to get everything else to complete the dish.) And especially unimpressed with the cost of all that stuff that was both superfluous and undesirable. So: I thought: DIY (with a bit of prompting from the sister/professional chef.)
Keep reading - you will be very amused when you get to the punch line ...
I've been reading, and testing. Tried out a really good recipe for a tomato casserole. That was so tasty I've actually made it twice. Once for us two as the guinea pigs, and again to take to a covered dish dinner. And in the interest of 'inquiring minds want to know', have found several other recipes that bear further research as I have perused cookbooks in recent weeks.
The one I copied, and actually practiced at home, taking it on a test drive before sending it in a box, was a chicken casserole. So I put three cans in the mail, along with a zip bag with a cup of rice, and the recipe. The receipent would have to add perishables: cheese, onion and celery (if one so chooses to add something she finds so objectionable as celery!). It was pretty good when we had it at home, and make enough leftovers for another meal...which would be useful for a family of two when taking a meal in a lunch box to work, to have for grab and go.
The reason it is called 'mom's majick mox' is because the idea started with the Birch Box, but it is from Mom. And it is majick in the sense that with the addition of some perishable ingredients, it turns into something you can put in the oven, on the table, and in your mouth. Plus it does come in a box, but the word 'box' needs to start with 'm' to be sufficiently alliterative.
I think I have written before about what a treasure I have found hand written recipes to be: when I go looking in my box of 3 x 5 cards for something I want to reproduce. And find the card, with handwritten recipe, from people who are not around to write, share recipes, or the end product any longer. So - in addition to something good to eat, there is the added bonus of the little 3 x 5 card that will linger for posterity long after the writer is gone...
The punch line is that the crazy mama mailed groceries - and the expense of the postage was even greater than the cost of the canned goods. Well worth the amusement generated in the process....
She loves to get that box of cosmetics every month. She has always, as long as she has been self-propelled, had a fascination with things to decorate with - putting things on her face and painting her nails as soon as she could get the containers open. I have highly amusing photos of a three year old with brilliant blue eyeshadow in copious amounts generously applied across the top 1/3 of her face. A little girl who loved to plunder in her grandma's purse with the red lip color as her goal. So when her sister discovers Birch Box and has an assortment of new products, mostly in sample size, mailed to her every month, it is an anxiously awaited Big Deal upon arrival.
In an effort to get more information, from someone who stays very busy with her job, and life in general, decided it would be interesting/amusing to send surprises in the same vein, to possibly help with a ongoing problem (ie: not enough time to plan a meal) plus get a response. So I have been reading recipe books, and have actually been doing so cooking: a rarity at my house, as I have been on strike for several years. Looking for good things to eat that are fairly simple, with ingredients I could send, along with the recipe for assembly.
I'd read about something similar to the Birch Box in magazine months ago, and thought: that's a great idea, since it was food related. You could sign up and get a box once every four weeks that would supply a 'hard to find' ingredient, along with the recipe for some new dish to try. Plus some music to accompany the meal.
I was profoundly unimpressed with the thought of someone else choosing the music. And equally unimpressed with the idea of paying for the one exotic ingredient (with the recipient scrambling around to get everything else to complete the dish.) And especially unimpressed with the cost of all that stuff that was both superfluous and undesirable. So: I thought: DIY (with a bit of prompting from the sister/professional chef.)
Keep reading - you will be very amused when you get to the punch line ...
I've been reading, and testing. Tried out a really good recipe for a tomato casserole. That was so tasty I've actually made it twice. Once for us two as the guinea pigs, and again to take to a covered dish dinner. And in the interest of 'inquiring minds want to know', have found several other recipes that bear further research as I have perused cookbooks in recent weeks.
The one I copied, and actually practiced at home, taking it on a test drive before sending it in a box, was a chicken casserole. So I put three cans in the mail, along with a zip bag with a cup of rice, and the recipe. The receipent would have to add perishables: cheese, onion and celery (if one so chooses to add something she finds so objectionable as celery!). It was pretty good when we had it at home, and make enough leftovers for another meal...which would be useful for a family of two when taking a meal in a lunch box to work, to have for grab and go.
The reason it is called 'mom's majick mox' is because the idea started with the Birch Box, but it is from Mom. And it is majick in the sense that with the addition of some perishable ingredients, it turns into something you can put in the oven, on the table, and in your mouth. Plus it does come in a box, but the word 'box' needs to start with 'm' to be sufficiently alliterative.
I think I have written before about what a treasure I have found hand written recipes to be: when I go looking in my box of 3 x 5 cards for something I want to reproduce. And find the card, with handwritten recipe, from people who are not around to write, share recipes, or the end product any longer. So - in addition to something good to eat, there is the added bonus of the little 3 x 5 card that will linger for posterity long after the writer is gone...
The punch line is that the crazy mama mailed groceries - and the expense of the postage was even greater than the cost of the canned goods. Well worth the amusement generated in the process....
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