Mugged while Christmas shopping

I mentioned that we'd gone shopping on Black Friday -- something I ordinarily never do. 

Our trip turned out to be both entertaining and productive.

We didn't set out until at least noon, after having a pleasant morning drinking coffee and talking.

There was no more traffic than usual, and when we got to the stores, they were no more crowded than any normal weekday.

We speculated that maybe lots of folks had gotten the majority of Black Friday shopping out of their systems the night before. Because for years, Black Friday has started on Thursday. Just go with it.

At any rate, I was hunting for gifts for my sons-in-law and TG. My son-in-law Joel was with us and I asked him to go and find a few things for himself because it was clothes and he's particular about his outfits, and I was glad to just get him whatever he found that he wanted.

While looking around, I saw a mug that was bright red and featured an adorable snowman wearing a big black floppy hat. Our Brittany loves the snowman motif, and the mug was inexpensive so I got it for her.

There's a wee bit of a backstory.

At another store -- okay, it was Walmart -- week before last, I happened to see a sleep shirt that was in a beautiful shade of burgundy -- that color which TG still calls maroon, like we did in the '60s and '70s -- and which featured this sentiment on the front:

COFFEE

NAP

SPARKLE

REPEAT

All in white block letters, and the word "sparkle" was actually sparkly. So I was all, like, I need to get that for Brittany because that is SO Brittany!

As you do at this time of year.

But I didn't, because as I said, I am done with my Christmas shopping. And although I wasn't quite done on that day, I was done with Brittany's Christmas gifts. Andrew's too.

All done.

(This is that potentially dangerous time when, having shopped aplenty for everyone, you're in the stores and you see little tiny things you know they'd like and who can't use just one more stocking stuffer, and similar to when you try to even up the leftover cake by "straightening" the edges with a fork which then goes into your mouth carrying bites of cake, or when you try to trim your own bangs and they just get shorter and choppier until you resemble the addle-brained cousin of Edward Scissorhands, you can do serious financial damage attempting to "even up" what you've bought for everyone.)

Takeaway: Pick a dollar amount and stick to it. If you can. I can't but that's another blog post.

But of course I couldn't keep from telling Brittany about the sleep shirt, and her face just lit up because she loves to wear burgundy and it looks well on her, and naturally "coffee nap sparkle repeat" with a sparkly sparkle suits her like little red sweaters suit puppy dogs in the snow, but ...

I didn't get it because I'm done buying for you! I blurted out, and then realized it didn't exactly sound the way I intended.

And that haunted me so much -- are you like me, replaying your words and fearing that you sounded like a monstrous malicious mean-spirited meanie when you didn't mean to? -- that, when I spotted the snowman mug, I grabbed it because I was going to see her that night and she and Andrew have bought a new place and they just moved in and I hadn't technically given her a housewarming gift.

See how that reparations thing works? Guilt can be expensive.

So anyway when I was claiming the snowman mug for Brittany and had put it in my basket, I saw another one that caught my fancy and since they're so inexpensive, I picked it up to add to my own collection of Christmas mugs. I'm sort of locked in to getting one new mug per year, even though I have so many now, I can only bring out part of them each holiday season.

This particular Gibson Home mug was adorably curvy, pale blue with Christmas red trim and creamy white on the inside, and it depicted a rustic red pickup truck with a wreath of festive greenery affixed to its grille, parked in the snow. All over the the mug were tiny white raised-up bumps of snow falling from the sky. So charming.

I took it home, removed the tag from the bottom, asked who wanted coffee, counted hands, made a big pot, and poured some into my darling new mug.

Only, while I was drinking my coffee, I noticed that my mug had a crack. I could feel it with my fingers on the outside and clearly see it on the white creamy inside.

*SIGH* It's always something. How did I MiSS that?

I drained the mug of coffee, then washed it and wrapped it back up in its protective paper and returned it to the bag, with the receipt. The next day -- a rest day for me -- TG gallantly offered to take the mug back to the store. While there, he gave a great deal of effort to finding another one exactly like it, even enlisting the help of a saleslady. But to no avail.

He did not, however, come home empty handed. As he gave me the package containing a new mug he said:

It's not the same one but it's Christmas and it's a car.

Which I thought was so very special of him, to match the general idea if not the identical mug.

As you can see in the picture above, this one has metallic glitter coming down as snow. That's my favorite kind of tissue paper too, at Christmas: the white kind with tiny pieces of glitter all over. I can't get enough of it.

I sure hope I can remember to never put this mug into the dishwasher, because that metallic glitter will melt right off (I've never had that problem with the tissue paper because I'm not tempted to put it into the dishwasher). I've ruined two mugs that way and generally avoid metallic designs on mugs because it's clear I cannot be trusted, but this one is worth it.

You may also have spotted in your eagle-eye fashion that I was steeping Chai using not one, but two Twinings tea bags. I always use two, and two Splendas, when I drink tea, which happens maybe two afternoons a week. More as it gets nippy outside.

And did you also see that thing sitting on top of my cup? That, luv, is a Primula Tea Bag Buddy. Patent Pending. It secures your tea bag(s) while covering your mug as the tea steeps, keeping the liquid hot. When you're ready to drink your tea, it squeezes the bag(s) for you, then holds them in a little crater when the gizmo is turned upside down.

It's silicone, so you don't burn your fingers. Sure beats using a spoon.

I think you need one. Or you know someone who does. But if you're finished shopping for them, don't start nibbling. Be strong.

You're welcome.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Wednesday

Precursors to Christmas

Webers old and new

Prior to last week, in the spirit of meticulous planning for which the Weber clan are practically famous, we had decided that our Thanksgiving feast would be consumed at four o'clock.

The time was based on how long it would take me to get everything ready -- I work alone -- as well as the time that Erica and Chad could arrive, because they planned to spend the early part of the day with Chad's family.

Andrew and Brittany stayed in town for Thanksgiving; they'll be with her family for Christmas.

Stephanie and Joel and their brood were with us for Thanksgiving as always. They traditionally go to Pennsylvania for Christmas with his family.

Audrey and Dagny live here, so naturally they were with us all day.

I began cooking at ten that morning and, even though I'd made my Crock-Pot cranberry sauce the night before, it still took me all day to complete the meal. 

Stephanoel plus Melly, Lissy, and Andrew

We had a fat Butterball turkey breast, a fatter Kentucky Legend ham (KL is the only kind I'll buy now; when you've found the best, no need to concern yourself with the rest. I'll leave all the Honey Baked and Smithfield spiral-cuts for the rest of you) studded with pineapple rings and maraschino cherries, Crock-Pot cream corn, a double recipe of broccoli casserole, fluffy mashed Yukon Gold potatoes with store-bought (Costco) roasted turkey gravy, sweet potato casserole smothered with Jet-Puffed marshmallows, ambrosia, deviled eggs, the aforementioned cranberry sauce, King's Hawaiian rolls, pumpkin cheesecake, pumpkin pie, cherry pie, soda pop, and coffee.

Yes; every surface in my kitchen was covered with treats and viands of the holiday sort, and the table groaned, and if anyone went away hungry, you can't lay that at my feet.

I imagine it was much the same at your house.

And yes; we sat down to eat promptly at four o'clock. I actually had everything ready at about ten minutes before four. That is what's known as skill of the culinary kind.

I'll thank you not to snicker. 

Audag

Funny story: At about three thirty I began placing cold items on the table. I set out two glass dishes of the cranberry sauce and my vintage amber Tiara deviled egg plate loaded with the southern delicacies.

The plate has twelve egg-shaped depressions which hold the deviled eggs. There's a space in the middle for a few extra eggs or maybe some garnish, but I had boiled only eight eggs -- two were lumpy so I threw away the whites and used just the yolks -- and I'm not into garnish so all there was, was the ring of one dozen hardboiled egg halves, each eggy bowl piled high with a rich mixture of smashed yolks, a generous dollop of Mrs. Campbell's chow chow, just enough Duke's mayonnaise, a squirt of French's yellow mustard, and to-taste sprinklings of kosher salt and coarse-ground black pepper.

They looked enchanting and as I walked away from placing them on the Thanksgiving table -- at which the children and their children were already gathering -- I admired their beauty (the eggs, that is) and looked forward to enjoying them with the meal.

The next time I looked, though -- and this was maybe five minutes later -- at least two of the deviled eggs were gone. It may have been three.

I assumed my bewildered expression -- the one that is never far from me -- and wondered aloud what had happened to the untouched symmetry of my egg plate.

Cherica

Andrew laughed. Oh Mom! he said. I'm sorry! I thought they were precursors!

Precursors, I thought -- and probably said -- and yes, I was laughing too. Did he mean appetizers?

No matter. They were exceptionally good if I do say so. And I pretended to be annoyed but I wasn't. I don't care when my boy eats the deviled eggs; and if he eats them all (he didn't) and wants more, I'll make more.

Following dinner, but as a precursor to coffee and pie and the tree-lighting by little Andrew -- yes, my tree is up and decorated and yes, we have two Andrews -- and the Thanksgiving-night gifts TG and I had gotten for everyone (festive holiday outfits for the kids and Christmas decorations for each household), we went outside for a short photo shoot.

I wanted a picture of all of us for our Christmas card. You see it above -- and some of you may receive it in Christmas card form too! So you have that to look forward to.

It was a truly lovely cool day and it didn't take long to get all of these great shots of my darlings with their darlings.

Brittandrew

The next day -- when we normally do Stephanie's family shoot for her annual Christmas card -- we were able to spend shopping and eating leftovers because she was happy with the picture of her group and there was no need to revisit the situation.

I am finished with my shopping too. And it's not even December! Which is good because it will take me from now until midnight on Christmas Eve to wrap all these presents.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Monday :: Merry Christmas

And don't forget to be thankful

Chestnut Hill Cemetery :: Salisbury, North Carolina

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Happy Thanksgiving

Bananas for Thanksgiving

I've been inordinately busy. Apologies for ignoring you, my dearest readers.

Because the busy-ness extends into (and will consume) this calendar day as well, I have dug into the archives and present to you here a timely re-post.

It's from 2014 and it contains recipes. Two of them, and both extra-good, because those are the only kind I like.

Without further ado, I give you this and promise new news next week.

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Nobody has asked me what I was so busy whipping up in the kitchen on Saturday.

But even in the absence of nudgings, goosings, coaxings, and arm-twistings, I am prepared to disclose the details of my weekend culinary activities.

You may recall that for several years I walked the earth oven-less.

Short story. Not remotely riveting for all its brevity.

Suffice it to say, I compensated surprisingly well -- just think Crock-Pots, lots of them -- but now that I have a brand-new oven, I jolly well use it.

As a matter of fact scarcely a calendar day elapses that I don't fire up my feisty, shiny new oven, prompting me to wonder more than once:

What did I ever do without an oven?

But the question is rhetorical. What I did year after year was, I made do.

What I did not do was, I didn't bake my annual dozen-or-so loaves of banana-nut bread, with a few pumpkin loaves thrown in for the sake of variety.

This sort of thing has been a tradition for me since time out of mind.

At Thanksgiving and Christmas when one remembers certain family members, friends, and acquaintances, and feels compelled to give them a little something to enjoy in the festive holiday mood, a loaf of homemade banana-nut bread is a brilliant solution.

Also the way I do it, it's absurdly easy.

That's because I go semi-homemade.

And this being the season of sharing, here's my recipe:

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SEMI-HOMEMADE BANANA-NUT BREAD

1 box Pillsbury Quick Bread (or generic brand) mix, banana (or pumpkin) flavor

(IF you use PQB brand in banana flavor, below are the exact directions. If you use another brand or make the pumpkin kind, read the box.)

(On second thought, read the box anyway.)

2 eggs

1/4 cup oil (I have used both canola and olive, the light-flavored kind)

1 cup water (I use buttermilk, or whole milk, never water, but you can)

1/2 cup (or more) walnut pieces (optional, but necessary if you're going for banana-nut bread)

1 fresh ripe banana, mashed (optional but if you want it to be like mine, don't leave this out)

Mix everything together well but don't overmix. I beat the eggs first but you don't have to.

Spray your loaf pan (glass works best) with cooking spray. Pour the batter into the prepared pan.

Bake in 375-degree oven for 45-50 minutes. I lay a piece of aluminum foil over the top for the last 5-10 minutes so the crust on top doesn't burn.

Test with a toothpick or cake tester. It's done when only moist crumbs emerge.

Cool, then wrap in foil to keep fresh.

If you make pumpkin bread instead of banana, use a generous dollop of canned pumpkin (not pumpkin pie mix) in place of the mashed banana.

You can also just as easily make muffins from this recipe. Again: For exact directions, read the box.

I make these breads two-at-a-time. It takes twice the ingredients but only one (big) mixing bowl and exactly the same amount of effort, and then you have a loaf to give and a loaf to keep. Or two loaves to give. Or keep.

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While I was making bread on Saturday, I also made cranberry sauce from scratch.

No Crock-Pot will made to feel irrelevant or superfluous on my watch.

This is another impressive recipe that is ridiculously simple to make, but elegant either as an addition to your holiday table or to give away jarred in a cute bag along with a freshly-baked loaf.

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HOMEMADE CRANBERRY SAUCE

2 packages FRESH whole cranberries (12 ounces each)

1 cup granulated white sugar

1 cup light (or dark) brown sugar

1 cup fresh (not from concentrate) orange juice

1/2 cup water

2 Tablespoons grated fresh ginger

1 cup sweetened DRIED cranberries

1 Tablespoon lemon (or orange) zest

In a Crock-Pot, mix together the FRESH cranberries, the sugars, the OJ, the water, and the grated ginger.

Cook on HIGH for three hours or so, until the cranberries have popped open.

Uncover, stir, and cook for 30 more minutes.

Unplug Crock-Pot. Add sweetened DRIED cranberries  and lemon zest. Stir well.

Over the next several hours, allow the sauce to cool and thicken. Stir often.

Transfer to a glass dish with tight-fitting lid and chill in refrigerator overnight.

This is an extremely sweet-tart sauce best enjoyed sparingly.

Serve cold beside the turkey and dressing, or, to give as a gift, put a cupful in a pretty jar with some frilly embellishment or other.

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So that's what I've been up to and I'll bet you're busy fixing a bunch of good stuff in your kitchen too.

Meanwhile things are taking brilliant shape around here, which basically involves me reminding TG for the third time to get the Christmas stuff down from the attic, and working hard to retain my festive mood while de-tangling last year's strands of Christmas lights.

All of my babies will be here for Thanksgiving. Won't you have fun looking at the pictures?

Speaking of pictures, tonight TG and I will (very carefully) remove the table-top glass and prop it off to the side so that I may rearrange the photos and add more.

As yet Baby Dagny is not represented there, a situation that must be remedied before Thursday.

Also I'd like to work in several more recent pictures of my other three littles, and a few shots of Andrew in and around the KC-135 and his unit.

Everything is in a state of flux but soon enough the dust will settle. Best relax and enjoy the ride.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Weekend-Before-Thanksgiving Week

In a hurry, were we?

I voted yesterday. In order to do so, I had to show my driver's license.

Just like if I'd been at a Michelle Obama book signing instead of a polling place.

But I digress.

Judging by the scene above, if the person beside whom I parked (that's my right front fender in the lower right portion of the photo; I wisely gave that Carolina Gamecock fan a wide berth) had to show theirs, it should have been immediately confiscated.

Because no; this is not a picture of someone pulling into a parking space.

This is an accurate representation of the position of their vehicle parked in the parking space.

(If one could in all honesty call that being either in, or parked.)

True story. The iPhone camera does not lie.

No one was aboard; I checked.

Thoughts on what may have been going on with said parking miscreant (who was not only not in the car, but was nowhere in sight)?

Because I've hmmmmmmed it for as long as I care to, and have come up with nothing. I've got other fish to fry.

Your turn.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Wednesday