Princess Lessons

Kate Middleton aced her first (and second) royal engagements this week. Did anyone think she wouldn't?  She has had years to think about being a princess and years to study.  Kate, a level headed brunette, has studied photos and film from past royal engagements. Including  appearances of Lady Diana.   To further ensure her success, Kate has been assigned a tutor for all things "Princess."  

For her first outing, Kate and the proud Prince William  appeared in their hometown of Anglsley to christen a lifeboat.  Kate wore a beige coat, circa 2004, which had been recently re-hemmed to a more youthful length.  The Welsh people are hardscrabble folk.  It takes a lot of gumption to live in that  windblown   salt sprayed   spot of land.  Kate showed her resourcefulness by "making do" with her old coat.  With this act, she became one of the locals.. not any better than they are but ONE of them.  Then, she sang the Welsh National Anthem with gusto.  With a nod to the Royal Family (particularly her father in law to be), she wore a fascinator in her hair containing a brass button moulded with the Prince of Wales feathers.

Kate also christened the lifeboat with great aplomb.  Once, when the Queen was asked what it was like to be queen.  She replied, "I pour champagne over a lot of boats."  I don't know which royal secretary decided to send Kate out to a christening for her first duty, but I know the Queen got a good chuckle out of it.  There you are folks... I hope you got  a good look at your future Queen pouring champagne over the first in a long long line of boats. 

Cat Head Biscuits Part II

It has been chilly lately.  One way to keep warm in a cold house is to fire up the gas oven and bake.  I've baked the past two days in an attempt to warm my old bones.  This morning I revisited the Cat Head Biscuit recipe.  When I first made the biscuits, I was disappointed because they crumbled too easily. Putting jelly on them proved to be a challenge.  What I'm looking for is a biscuit that will hold a hunk of sausage, or a few slices of bacon  and jelly.   So, today, I rolled out the biscuits and baked them close together in a 13X9X2 pan. 

 I think you'll agree, they came out pretty good.   Now for the sausage test.

Ahhhhh... much better!  The Cat Head Biscuits rolled out and cut with a biscuit cutter were much more to my liking.  The biscuits are light and fluffy but still substantial.  One of these for breakfast and you'll be ready to chop some wood!  I'm not sure they are my all time favorite biscuit, though.  I think the expensive cake flour would be better used in something like... a cake.  More biscuits to come.

Travel Bug Rehab

Finding travelers - Geocoins and Travel Bugs, in Geocaches is one of my favorite aspects of the hobby.  In five years, I've found and discovered 539,  the majority having been "moved" by me, not merely discovered at meetings.  Travelers are fairly personal and usually have a story behind them.  "This beanie represents my favorite cat," "I'm releasing this toy John Deere tractor because it reminds me of the farm I grew up on,"  and "You've found a  subway ticket used on vacation in New York,"  are all reasons behind some of the Travel Bugs I've come across.  I'll travel miles out of my way to pick up a traveler.


Once home, I log the traveler and print out the info sheet if it's missing.  I'll also make sure it's in a clean zip lock bag before sending it back on its journey.  My hope is that this will keep them traveling a little longer. On occasion, I'll come across a Travel Bug that is in serious need of rehabilitation.  More than the simple new info sheet and new baggie.  The first traveler to go into Chickahominy's Rehab was Kentucky Boi.  I found this scary fellow in February of 2009 in a cache I owned in Elgin, South Carolina.

KentuckyBoi 2/25/2009

This traveler was released in Florida in 2002 and it's unclear if it had it's original head at the time.  Someone along the way added Barbie's head to KentuckyBoi.. making him somewhat androgynous.  This bothered me.  After some thought, I pulled out my sewing kit, some fabric and my hot glue gun and gave this fellow a makeover! A friendlier, much prettier Kentucky Boi is still traveling after nine years and 13,500 miles!

The New and Improved KentuckyBoi 

Recently, I came across Fanny.. not once, but twice.  Once at an event  in Myrtle Beach and then again in a cache. Fanny began traveling in 2008, starting from Washington state. A sexy little Flamingo, she had lost her head and wasn't able to see where she was going. What's the point of spending all of your time at the beach, if you can't enjoy the view???

Fanny 

I knew that Fanny was destined to become one of the exclusive few to enter Chick's Rehabilitation Center for Travel Bugs.  After my initial examination, I had the perfect solution to remedy Fanny's plight.  Once again, using what I had on hand, I went to work. With a renewed outlook, Fanny is now in sunny Florida adding to the 13,000 miles she has already traveled.

Fanny on the Beach - Sullivan's Island, South Carolina 



 

Mr. Purple from Texas 

Mr. Purple came to the rehab facility via a Geocaching Event in Camden, South Carolina.  Others shunned the dirty, torn zip lock bag in favor of shiny geocoins and travelers with bling.  I tucked him into my Geo-satchel and brought him home.  Mr. Purple has traveled 20,000 miles in two years, and was definitely showing it.  He looked as if he had been thrown against a wall AND placed in a flooded geocache. Yet, he still smiled.  Fortunately, I had just what it took to make him whole again.  I think he may be my greatest achievement to date.

Mr. Purple with a Spring in His Step!

They Even Greet You

Did you know that you can camp at Wal-Mart?  My daughter made me aware of this fact a few years ago.  We would frequently see RV's in the parking lot of our local Wal-Mart and wondered if they were just squatting for the night.  When Laura was researching a drive across country from South Carolina to Nevada, she discovered that these RV'ers were actually embraced by the folks at Wally World.  That opened my eyes.  

Now, when I travel, I look for the Wal-Mart Campers, as I call them.  I've seen them in the South Carolina towns of Charleston, Mt. Pleasant, Myrtle Beach and even Florence.  They have also been spotted in North Carolina and Virginia in Wal-Marts along Interstate 95.  I'm fascinated by the RV culture and yearn to belong to their club, but this new aspect has me really excited.  Especially when I see them set up in our local Wal-Mart with awnings out, tiki lights illuminated, putt putt carpet and lawn chairs in place.  All as if to say, "We're home!  Stop by for a visit." 

Home for the Night ~ Florence, South Carolina

Research on the internet garnered these facts:

1.  You may stay at most Wal-Marts and it is entirely free. (A few states disallow this camping experience.) 

2.  Please check in with the store manager upon arrival as a courtesy.  They will even make sure to alert security to keep an eye out for you and your camper.

3.  It's best to stay at the 24 hour Wal-Marts (aren't they all?). 

4.  The greeters might even come out and welcome you. 

5. Wal-Mart has finally figured out a way to make use of the far reaches of their parking lot.

6.  Truckers like to see the RV's because they feel as if they aren't all alone when delivering in the middle of the night.  

Who Lives in this Tent? ~ Behind the Wall in Florence, SC

It's not always fun and games though.  Lately, in addition to the travelers in their sleek expensive motor homes, I've seen people down on their luck sleeping in the Wal-Mart parking lots.  It's a sobering reflection on today's economy, but I'm thankful they have a safe place to be. 

Keep your eyes open and see how many of these wayfarers you come across.  Give them a smile and a wave.  One day, you just might see me.  ~Hopefully, I'll be the one with the pink flamingo tiki lights with a cocktail in hand waving right back!

The Definition of a Lady…

I read a little tidbit somewhere and decided to do some research on the subject.   Did you know that the definition of a lady is one who brings cake?   It is.

According to my Joy Of Cooking, circa 1953,

“The old definition of “lady” is “cake-giver.”  “Whether you bake a cake as an attention for a friend, send a box of cookies to a homesick child or hand a pan of gingerbread over a back fence, the gesture is one of fellowship that adds to your stature and enriched your life.  Besides, it fun to be a “lady.” 


The modern encyclopedia, Wikipedia, suggests that the term “lady” came from Old English and means bread kneader.  Which can be construed to mean cake baker.

Black Forest Gateau

My parents, grandparents and teachers drilled into my head many dos and don’ts of ladyship…  don’t cross your legs when you sit, sit on the front part of a chair so your back doesn’t touch, don’t put on lipstick in public, do send cards to the sick, do remember to make proper introductions.  I wasn’t specifically taught to make and share cakes in order to be a lady.. But you know what?  My Mother had me baking at the age of 5, sending cookies to my brother in college at the age of 11, at the age of 15 there was a summer of peach pie lessons (which resulted in a marriage proposal), and baking cream puffs for the sickly at the age of 16. 

To this day, I’m still baking and still sharing.  Cookies to my neighbors, cakes to Eva Mae’s caregivers, cookies sent out to loved ones, and pies to the sickly.   I guess I learned that life lesson directly and indirectly.  Mom knew what she was doing all along.  I’m proud to come from a legacy of “bread kneaders” and I’m proud to call myself a “cake-giver.”

Sugar Cookies

On Making Baklava

When I was 14, my parents put me on a Greyhound Bus to travel 200 miles away to spend a weekend with my sister in college.  To this day, I don't know WHAT they were thinking.  There was no precedence in my family for trips on Greyhound buses.. or for them allowing their precious baby (of 6 kids) to travel alone. Much less to travel straight into a den of sin! Once arrived, I found myself immersed in the college party culture.

Frat parties, drinking beer at the local hole in the wall, staying up late.. these are the things I can mention.  There was one highlight of the trip that has stayed with me all these years.  A trip to a local drive in, The Spice.  The girls at Marjorie's college were forbidden from going there for some reason... so even this adventure was illicit.  I don't remember what we ate for lunch that day.  I do remember when we paid there was a glass domed cake stand filled with the most intriguing dessert.  My sister told me it was baklava and we HAD to share a piece.  It was the closest to heaven I had ever been.  Sweet with honey, filled with nuts, cinnamon, cloves and that pastry... what was it?

 
I asked the gentleman behind the counter if he could tell me how to make it.  "No, it's a family recipe."  Where could I get the unusual dough, I asked. "Family sends it from New York," I was told.  I was heartbroken to learn that making this dessert would be beyond my grasp. Baklava must have been gaining in popularity at that time, because soon afterwards there was a recipe for it in the Charleston News and Courier.  There was also a note that you could purchase the Filo dough at the Piggly Wiggly on Meeting Street.  Fortunately, my brother was in Med school in Charleston and drove by the Pig on his way home.  He became my hero when he presented me with a package of  Filo (which means leaves).

 My first attempt had filo and butter from one end of the kitchen to the other.  There are definitely some tricks to assembling it.  Cutting the filo pan size was once the biggest obstacle, but it is now pre-packaged in sheets cut to fit a 13X9X2 pan.   Through the years, I have made more pans of baklava than I can count.  With practice my technique has improved.  I enjoy layering the sugared, spiced pecans with filo.  Brushing each leaf with butter along the way.  More than making and eating baklava, is the pleasure I derive from sharing it with friends.

Cracks in My Heart

At night, when I'm at my quietest
I can feel the cracks in my heart.
Every crack has a name and in my silence
I take role call.

There's a crack for every loved one I've lost..
My Mother, my Father, my nephew.. my Grandparents.
There are cracks for every heartbreak I've suffered but
I don't linger too long on those.

Every day, more cracks appear.
For the pregnant friend who just lost her job
for the struggling friend who lost her father.
Tonight, I'll count the crack left
by the kitten I saw on the side of the road.

PS.. so my friends don't despair.. kitty cat hugs, daffodils and baking go along way towards mending the cracks in my heart.