Charro Beans are Simmering

 
Charro Beans Recipe, Slow Cooker

My house is filled with the aroma of simmering Charro Beans, and I can hardly wait to fill my bowl to the top! Craft projects are waiting in my art studio, and clothes for Poshmark are hanging on the racks to be photographed. Instead of focusing on the obvious tasks, I chose to cook, and I'm glad I did.

This time I chose to cook only one cup of dried pinto beans. Stupid me! What was I thinking? This recipe is one of my favorites, and I have always cooked 2 cups at a time. Guess it's in my genetic makeup to make a big pot of beans or soup, so a small pot cooking just doesn't feel right, but it certainly does smell right! 😃

Here's the recipe I use. Found it online at Pinterest, and it's a winner! Thank you, Samantha, from Five Heart Home. Your recipe is delicious!

Link to Pinterest Recipe:  https://www.fivehearthome.com/slow-cooker-charro-beans/

Slow Cooker Charro Beans

Ingredients

• 
  

1/2 pound bacon

1 pound dried pinto beans

4 cups water

2 cups beef broth

6 cloves garlic, minced

Fresh jalapeno, diced (optional)

1 tablespoon cumin

1 teaspoon garlic powder

1 teaspoon chili powder

1 (10-ounce) can Rotel (diced tomatoes & green chiles)

1 cup fresh cilantro leaves, chopped

• Salt & freshly ground black pepper

Instructions

• Place the beans in a colander, rinse well, and remove any stones or shriveled beans.
• Cook the bacon until just crispy. Drain, chop, and set aside.
• Pour the beans into the slow cooker. Cover with water and beef broth. Add chopped bacon, garlic, jalapeño (if using), cumin, garlic powder, and chili powder. Cover and cook on low for 7 to 9 hours or until almost done. Stir in the Rotel and chopped cilantro; cover and cook for an additional hour or until tender (the total cooking time will likely be between 8 to 10 hours, depending on how hot your particular slow cooker runs). When the beans are done, season with salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste (stir in 1/2 teaspoon of salt at a time, tasting before adding more).

Notes

• My favorite way to cook bacon is to lay it in a deep, foil-lined baking pan and bake it on the center rack at 400°F for 15 to 20 minutes.
• The first time you cook beans in your slow cooker, periodically check that they remain covered with liquid. Add additional hot water during the cooking process, if necessary.
• One jalapeño cooked for that many hours should add flavor rather than spice. If you prefer mild beans, scrape out and discard the seeds and membranes before dicing the jalapeño, and use mild Rotel. On the other hand, if you prefer spicy beans, feel free to add more jalapeños (leaving the seeds/membranes intact) and use regular or hot Rotel.
• For Borracho Beans, swap out 6 ounces of the beef broth with Mexican beer.
• If you prefer to soak your beans, simply rinse, drain, and pick over your beans. Place them in a pot, cover with 2 inches of water, and soak overnight. Drain off the soaking water before proceeding with the recipe. If beans are soaked, cooking time will probably be shortened by a couple of hours.
• Always use fresh dried beans, as old beans can take much longer to become tender (and may possibly never soften!).

Calories: 286kcal | Carbohydrates: 39g | Protein: 16g | Fat: 8g | Saturated Fat: 2g | Cholesterol: 11mg | Sodium: 246mg | Potassium: 1052mg | Fiber: 9g | Sugar: 2g | Vitamin A: 265IU | Vitamin C: 8.1mg | Calcium: 91mg | Iron: 3.9mg

@Copyright 2020 Cindy Lou Hodges All Rights Reserved.

Hats Off to the Lady!

An illustration of a neighborhood grocery store.

Made a run to the grocery store today. Needed the basics:  juice, eggs, guacamole, salsa, & chips. And, of course, Dr. Pepper.  Several other items came home with me, and they're mostly all put up in the refrigerator & cupboards.

Here in the states, folks tend to dress very casually for grocery store runs. Blue jeans & tee shirts are the most common outfits you'll see here in Texas. Summer time brings out the cut offs, shorts, tank tops & flip-flops. Well, it's still winter time here in the Dallas-Fort Worth area, and today seemed a bit chilly with the low temperature at 40 degrees and the expected high at 53 degrees Fahrenheit. For most Texans that's the time to put on a pot of chili and rev up a roaring fire in the fireplace, keeping on their shorts and keeping the flip-flops near by.

Not so for one unique grocery store shopper. Not so, today.

She stood about five and one-half feet tall, with block high heels and black top hat. Her fur coat, imitation or real (I couldn't tell.) was knock-out, drop-dead gorgeous! The back was a chevron design of mixed colors & textures... white, black, reddish brown & gray. It graced her silhouette all the way down to her ankles, and it moved and shimmered as she walked down the aisles. She looked like she belonged on a fashion runway, certainly not the canned vegetable aisle.

I tried not to stare as I caught other glimpses of her in the store. The last time I saw her, she was at the checkout counter, waiting in line like the rest of us buggy-pushing people. In her hands she held one of those gossip tabloids. You know, the ones that are published weekly, the ones that are full of made-up stories. Her buggy held several items, so she had not run in for just one item, or two.

Her hat... oh, it was beautiful! The dome must have been wool fabric, and the extra-wide, extra-thick brim was black, luscious fiber/fur. Again, imitation fur or real, I don't know. But, it was stunning, and the perfect crown for a night on the town.

But... it wasn't night time, and it wasn't a fashion runway. It wasn't a party, and it wasn't freezing outside. It was just a trip to the grocery store at 1:00 o'clock in the afternoon, just a regular, neighborhood grocery store stuck on the corner between here & there.

Been thinking about her and what I learned as an observer who was wearing faded blue jeans and a long sleeved tee shirt.  Understand that I'm not at all jealous of what this woman owns. I have everything I need and want, and I don't covet her possessions or her lifestyle. I don't know her or anything about her. She just happened to be there when I was there.  I was just an observer.

This I did realize, though. I decided that if I had an outfit like hers, just when the heck could I wear it here in Texas? We have very few days below freezing, so there are very few times to bundle up. And just where the heck could I wear it? The Winspear Opera House?  Bass Hall? Reunion Tower? Country Clubs?

Yes, I guess, to all of the above, but I don't go to those places very often, and I'm not a member of a country club. But I've decided that, IF I did have a fabulous coat AND a magical hat like that, I'd wear it any dang place I wanted to. Why, girlfriend... I'd even wear to the grocery store.

So next time you go grocery shopping, you may see this lady. She may be strolling down the cereal aisle, or you may catch her reading the labels on the pet food aisle, or she may have a newspaper tabloid in hand. Don't fret a bit, and think nothing of it. Just enjoy the beauty of the moment and how that lady is enjoying what she owns. She's not saving the good stuff for later, or for her kids. She's making use of it now. Even if it is 53 degrees Fahrenheit outside, and even if she wears that coat only to the grocery store, you gotta' recognize that those refrigerator cases where they keep the juice & eggs are mighty, mighty danged cold. Brrr...

Lesson learned:  Use the good stuff... and enjoy it! I gotta' say... Hats off to the lady!

@Copyright 2019 Cindy Lou Hodges All Rights Reserved.

Today's Lunch...

Today's lunch...Courage!

One bite at a time...
that is how you eat a sandwich. That's how you eat an elephant. But what about the monsters?  Do you eat them too?

I heard of one mother's solution for monsters.  She filled a mist spray bottle with water and fragrance.  At bedtime when the monsters hid under her child's bed, she pulled out the monster spray.  She allowed the child to lightly spray under and around the bed, and magically the monsters disappeared.  The action gave satisfaction to the child.  Safety and security were just poofs away:  sanctuary within the child's power.

But, what about us grown-ups?  How do we deal with the monsters?

Roast Beast?  No.  Roast Beef.  Yes.  And.... leftover roast beef sandwich!  So tasty.  So good.  So comforting.  After cutting my sandwich, I realized that I had cut it just the way my Mama did when I was a little girl.  I can't imagine how many sandwiches she made when my brother & I were growing up, but she always cut them into four squares.  The toast, the roast, the mustard, Miracle Whip, ketchup and pickle... all good stuff.  But, the best of all is what I now remember... the love.  Thank you, Mama.

And that is how we deal with the monsters:  LOVE.

"For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life,
nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present,
nor things to come, Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature,
shall be able to separate us from the love of God,
which is in Christ Jesus our Lord."

~Holy Bible, Romans 8:38-39

........................................................

Mama Lou's Pot Roast

Salt & Pepper 3-4 lb beef roast.  Dredge in flour.  Sear all sides of roast in bacon grease (hot oil if you're steering away from pork fat) until crispy brown.  (High heat. Caution:  it splatters!)

Mix together in crock pot:

1 can Campbell's French Onion Soup
1 1/2 cans water
2 Tablespoons B-B-Q sauce
1 teaspoon Kitchen Bouquet (Sold in grocery stores beside the Worcestershire sauce.)

Gently place seared meat in crock pot with fatty side on top.  Spoon soup mixture over the roast so that some of the onions are on top of the meat.  Cover with lid.  Cook on high for 2 hours.  Rotate meat, fatty side down.  Cook for one hour.  Rotate meat again... turn crock pot down to low and simmer for one more hour or until done.

Pull roast from pot and place on cutting board.  Remove any layers of fat.  Cover with foil.  Cool for 10 minutes before cutting or shredding.  After cutting/shredding, drizzle pan juices over the meat to prevent drying out.  Cover with foil until time to serve.

My favorite pot roast pot!  From the 1980's.

@Copyright 2014, Cindy Lou Hodges All Rights Reserved.

Thanksgiving Again

The following story I originally posted three years ago, but it still stands true this Thanksgiving Season.  When I wrote it, my life was simpler.  It was easy to take my own advice.  But now that I am a worn-out care-giver for an elderly parent, and a giddy grandmother of a gorgeous two year-old grand daughter, my stretched emotions blur the "urgent" and the "important".  My confusion bothers me, and this tug-of-war is constant.  How does one balance the two extremes?

It was good for me to read this today.  Perhaps it will help you, too...
Cindy Lou, November 20, 2013


Today is Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving, and as I awakened food was on my mind:  ham, turkey & dressing, gravy, vegetables, cranberry sauce, pies, and desserts.  As I dressed for the morning, I kept thinking about all the food that would be here at the house tomorrow, wondering if we had enough, but I knew I had to turn my thoughts elsewhere.  I had to quit thinking about food and focus on my job, but even as I drove past the local Walgreen's Drug Store, their electronic sign flashed "Krispy Kreme donuts available here!"   More food to think about, but it had to be tabled and pushed to the back of my thoughts until after the 11:00 o'clock funeral service.

Friends and family were gathering at the church to celebrate a loved one's life, and I was to be there early to play the piano for the service.  The dear departed soul was unknown to me.  We had not been friends;  but after hearing about him, I wish we had been.  Mr. J (that's what I'll call him) was a World War II Veteran who had been stationed in Guam.  Pictures were shown of him and his sweetheart as they held each other closely, and pictures of their following sixty-two years together flashed onscreen before us.  We saw weddings, new babies, anniversaries, and more new babies, dinners, parties, and then even more new babies.  It was a love story for sure, and the pictures revealed a vibrant personality plus strong dedication to family, friends, and of all things... chickens.

Mr. J liked chickens.  Now, I have to admit, that I, too, like chickens.  Some of my fondest memories as a child are with my neighbor, Mr. Beal and his chickens.  He would let me fill the water bottle and turn it upside down (that's what you do with chicken's watering systems), and sometimes he allowed me to feed the chickens.  And, as baby chicks hatched, I could watch the miracle happen, and then when the chicks were all fluffy, he would let me love on them and squeeze them... but, not too tightly for fear of crushing them.

Some of the grand kids at today's service told their stories of helping their Grandad with his chickens, feeding and watering them, and I certainly identified with them and their love for the man that introduced them to a new, feathery world.  They lovingly and admirably told of experiences they had shared with their Grandad, and it was obvious to me, an outsider, that Mr. J had left a big part of himself inside each grandchild, and that what he believed in will be carried on and will be lived through his children and their following generations.

Already touched by this man's legacy, I knew that this memorial service would stand out in my mind as one of those special ones.  As a musician, I play for many funeral services, and they all are dear.  However, some are much more memorable than others, and this one definitely fits into that category.  This one was sweet, tender and loving, and one I hope I will always remember.  In my heart I thanked the Lord that I could be there and be a part of this circle of family and friends, and I thought the best had already been shared, until the last grandchild spoke and told this simple story, one that centers around, you got it... food.

When she was a small girl, and a  member of the Brownie troop, she sang the Brownie song to her Grandad.  He asked her if she knew the last verse to the song, and she didn't, so with a twinkle in his eye, he sang it to her.  She shared it with her troop leader who also had never heard that verse and taught the last verse to all the girls.  They all loved it, but somehow throughout the years, the memory has faded, and now, years later, the granddaughter can't remember the tune or the words to the Brownie song.  That memory is gone, but  she can still remember the main thing about that verse, the last line that her Grandaddy taught her. 

It's a profound statement; very plain and simple, and I thought about it all the way back home as I drove past the post office, the school, and the Walgreen's with its "Krispy Kreme" sign still flashing.  I thought about my life, and what I'm doing with it, and what I'm not doing with it.  It made me wonder about my priorities, and what really is important to me, and with it being the Thanksgiving season, it caused me to consider my gratitude.  Am I really aware of my amazing, abundant, incredible blessings?  Do I have a clue as to how blessed I really am?  And, then... am I thankful for them?  Truly thankful?  Or, have I slidden into the trench of  ingratitude and dug my ruts so deeply that I'll never see more than my own selfishness, my own greediness?  I pray that's not the case, not my future.  Heavens, I pray not so.

I tell you, friends, even though I was at a funeral today, today was a good day for me.  I enjoyed remembering my childhood friend, and I was blessed to find new ones.  My eyes were opened as a new friend's closed eyes helped me see something about myself.  It's not a pretty picture, the glimpse I saw of me, and it isn't one I'm proud of.  But, it is one that can be changed.  Starting right now, I will pay more attention to, I will be more aware of, and I will be more grateful for all that I have and for what God has given me.  I will focus more on what I have, and focus less on what I don't have... or as she told us today, just as her grandaddy, Mr. J once told her, his precious little granddaughter, and as I am now telling you...
"focus on the donut, not the hole."

Sincerely looking for ways to express my gratitude,
and ways to stay focused,

Cindy Lou

p.s.  Thanksgiving is more than just a day, isn't it?




@ Copyright 2010, Cindy Lou Hodges
All Rights Reserved.

@Copyright 2011, 2012, 2013 Cindy Lou Hodges All Rights Reserved.

Biscuits & Ice Cream

At our favorite fast-food dive, we finished our morning biscuits, then began to talk about ice cream... real, satisfying ice cream.  We're both under stress as caregivers for loved ones who live with us:  a husband with Alzheimer's and a mother who is wheel-chair bound.  So, food, comfort food, is an important conversation topic.

"I don't cook much anymore, because he's satisfied with just a sandwich, even peanut butter & jelly."

"Me, either.  But, I did open two cans of black-eyed peas last night.  Threw some sliced ham in the skillet, and they thought I had cooked a feast.  They're still talking about it this morning!"

"Did you ever find Blue Bell's Christmas Cookie that I told you about?"

"No, I gave up looking for it once I tried their Strawberry Pie flavor.  Oh, girl.... you were right.  It's to die for!"

"Well, I've got a half-gallon of it in the bottom of my chest freezer.  It's there for my son-in-law when he comes up to visit, and it's his favorite.  It will keep for up to six months.  I'll just let him get it himself, since he's so much taller than I am.  He will love me forever!"

"And, if he doesn't happen to come in the next few months, then you will just have to eat it.  Right?"

"Of course!"

We fiddled with our jelly wrappers then rolled our napkins placing them on the plastic tray.

"But I do have another carton in the freezer that I've saved just for emergencies, and last night I really needed it:  Chocolate Mint with the biggest chocolate chunks you've ever seen."

"Hmmmmm."

"But I couldn't reach it.  You know how far down the bottom of the ice chest is?  I thought I was going to fall in... really, I couldn't reach it.  So, I thought about that long-arm, grabber thingy (pinching fingers together), and I was ready to go get it, but I wasn't sure where it was.  So, I gave it one last try, and by golly, I did it... I got my finger nails under the rim of that lid and managed to get it out.  It was heaven."

"Hmmmm..."
"Hmmmm..."

After that, silence surrounded our little dining booth, and we sat there with goofy grins on our faces.  We sat there satisfied with the simple comforts of ice cream, morning breakfast biscuits and conversation with a good friend... a friend who really understood.  Life did not seem so difficult after all. 

Thank you, my friend...
Love,
Cindy



@Copyright  2012 Cindy Lou Hodges All Rights Reserved.

Peanut Butter Crispies

Here's a fall snack that's extremely easy to prepare.  My suggestion:  buy 2 boxes of Rice Chex cereal because these disappear before you know it!

1 cup white Karo syrup
1 cup white granulated sugar
1 cup peanut butter, creamy or crunchy
1 box Rice Chex cereal


Simplest Directions:  melt the sugar, syrup & peanut butter in a big sauce pan.   Add cereal.  Stir until coated.  Pour out in mounds.  Let cool.

My Way:  Pour out half the cereal into a large mixing bowl.  In sauce pan, combine karo syrup and sugar until melted together.  Stir in peanut butter until well blended. Pour half of peanut butter syrup over cereal.  Quickly add remaining cereal, then syrup mixture.  Stir until cereal is coated. Scoop spoonful sizes onto wax paper.  Let cool.  Store in airtight container to stay fresh.


This is a delicious light snack that my niece shared at our family reunion.  It's very difficult to eat just one, so beware... it is addictive!

@Copyright 2011, Cindy Lou Hodges All Rights Reserved.

And She Was Born, Chapter 3

Chapter Three - "Be Still, My Heart"

With "baby's heart beat dangerously low .. dangerously low" running through my head, I desperately prayed for the safety of my loved ones.  Our baby was in danger!  My daughter-in-law, too, and my assignments were plain:  find her parents and pray!

"Run, run!"  I hurried up and down the winding hallways until I found them, and it was a mutual joy to see each other at last.   Hugs, words, and hand motions filled the empty air as anticipation and worry hung all around us.  We mothers talked back & forth as women naturally do, while the maternal grandfather translated Vietnamese words into English, and English words into Vietnamese.  Tears and facial expressions were totally  understood, and sighs of angst needed no explanation.  We were there for our kids, and we were there for each other.  No translator was necessary to express the clash of joy and fear we all felt. That was a given.

We talked, translated, "hand gestured", laughed, cried, sat still, paced the floor, prayed, sighed... then repeated it all over again and again until... at long last, at 1:30 a.m. December 2, 2010...  the closed hospital room door burst open!  In came a caravan of feet:  all covered with blue booties.  Heads and faces wore the disposable caps and masks, and arms of blue pushed the hospital bed back into place.  I tried my best to find my son in the parade of scrubs, but my eyes were fixed on the beautiful vision that lay before me on a cloud of white.

Never had I seen my daughter-in-law look lovelier.  A sense of calm and peace surrounded her giving no hint to the trauma her body had just experienced.  She glowed with beauty and grace as she lovingly cradled her new born child.  Never had I seen so clearly through tear-soaked eyes.  And, of course, never had I seen my very own grandchild.  But, there she was... finally... she was born!  She was here. And she was exquisite!!!  Tiny at 5 pounds, 15.5 ounces, her little lungs worked on their own, and her steady little heart had already melted all the big hearts in that room.

As I tried to memorize the moment, my eyes lifted and amidst all the patches of blue masks, I found those eyes I've known and loved for over thirty-three years.  So tender, so puffy, so sweet.  The new daddy, my courageous son, stood proud and strong!  Like a soldier on guard, he commanded the room.  No one could tell that his knees shook.  No one could tell that his heart trembled.  No one knew how close he came to passing out during the emergency C-section. No one, but me his Mama... and, well... the surgical team.

Relief and joy must be side by side on the emotional scale, because when there is doubt that joy will occur, and it finally does... the joy is magnificient!  It explodes upon arrival!  And, I'd say that the emotional Richter scale in that hospital wing was so high it reached clear into heaven. I felt that heaven and earth connected, once again the very same night, and the proof was our little baby girl, Evelien Claire Hodges.  As I touched my cheek to her soft, warm, tiny face, my soul better understood the miracle that I held.  The lyrics of the song that I had sung just hours earlier came alive as never before:  *"And when you kiss your little baby... you've kissed the face of God..."  What an incredible feeling! 

Just like I said at the beginning of my story, it was a star-studded night.  It was a glorious night, a glorious sight to see my kids shine like the stars!   My children, our children, became what we once became.  And we became what our parents had once become.  The awe of the miracle of life filled my soul, and I will never, never be the same.  I am now Grandmother, yet I am still me.  I don't know how to put the two together, but I will do my darndest to be a good Grandmother.  Friends tell me that it comes naturally.  But, I don't know.  I've never been a grandmother, and I am walking into the realms of the unknown.  It's times like this that it would be nice to have a friend, a girlfriend.  Someone to talk to and someone to hold my hand and tell me "do this... go this way... go that way, say this, be smart... don't say that".  You know, a buddy... we all need one, especially me.

So, I will be calling upon my mother, "Nanny", who offers wisdom and love:  my cherished friend so dear to my heart who fought tenaciously for over a year to still be alive, and who now says it was all worth it just to see our new little life.  I will also call upon my friends, and I will gladly welcome their advice, which they freely will offer.  But, you know... there is someone else... someone to walk with me me... someone else to hold my hand.  Oh, joy... be still my heart... rejoice my soul!  The hand I hold is so tiny.  It's so soft, and it is so beautiful.  It's a girl!  And her name is... Baby Evelien!!!

Halleluja!  Hosannas!  And hugs!  Here I go into this new phase of my life, holding hands with my established friends and with my new little friend, and wondering,  "at what point will the grown up act more like the child?"  Hmmmmmm..... I think that's already happened.  Yes, I have turned into a silly old Grandma, one with rhinestone bling!

Guess you better, "Look out world!"   Here I come with my marching orders and my Grandma boots on.  Dolls and dishes, are packed in my back pack, and lots of pink fluffly things are in my purse.  Tissues & wet wipes, diapers & bibs, phone numbers, and a direct line to heaven that's available all the time:  they're all a part of my entourage, and it feels so good!  I am blessed to be a Grandma, blessed to have been a part of this thrilling adventure, and I am so blessed to be at this stage of my life.

Guess you can call me "Blessed among women".  Or you can call me Cindy.  You can call me Cindy Lou, or you can call me Grammy.  But, as they say... just don't call me when I'm babysitting.  I'll be too busy to answer! 

Sincerely,
Me, still me, whoever that is.


Evelien & Grammy, first embrace...

p.s. #1  Remember the pink cakes from Chapter One?  Well, the extra pink cake was the perfect way to celebrate the arrival of our baby girl!  We all enjoyed the pink, fluffly, strawberry cake decorated with all the foofoo on top.  It was Evelien's very first birthday cake!  Who would have thought she would come so early?  Isn't it amazing that I made an extra cake?  Isn't it great that I made pink cakes?  Ahhhh... sweet times! 

p.s. #2  You may wonder where my husband was during this memorable night.  Well, he was in Oklahoma with my mother, caring for her.  What a great guy!  I kept him and "Nanny" informed all evening via text messages and phone calls.  He loaded up all of Nanny's things the very next morning, and with a fully-packed van, they hurried down to Texas to meet our new baby girl.  Ahhhh... the family was all together!  Sweet, sweet times, indeed!


p.s. #3  Thank you, God!  Thank you.



*"Mary, Did You Know?"... song lyrics by Gary Lowry

@Copyright 2010, Cindy Lou Hodges All Rights Reserved.

And She Was Born, Chapter 1

Five years ago... Happy Birthday, Evelien Claire Hodges!

Grammy's & Evelien's First Embrace

This story has taken a long time to put in text, and I can't explain why it's been such a challenge for me to document, other than I feel that my words are totally inadequate to express the wonderment and joy of the unfolding events.  I finally decided that someday, maybe I'll get to tell you in person, and that the joy on my face will tell it all.  I would love to tell you face to face and can't wait until that happens.  But, in the meantime... this written story will have to do.

There will be more than one chapter to my story.  How many?  I don't know yet.  That's to be determined.  But, I decided that I must get busy, for new adventures are happening everyday, and I'm already behind on sharing them.  So, here I go, as best I can, telling this story that is so near & dear to my heart.

Chapter One - Grammy's Night Out

There were over forty of us entertaining together that night, and we ladies of the Performing Arts Department beamed with pride that we "mature women" had managed to attract a "full house".  Tickets had sold out, hours of rehearsals were behind us, and our new black outfits with rhinestone bling defined our newly elevated status as "bonafied performers".  December 2, 2010 definitely was a star studded night, and we were a part of the glimmer and shine, and I... I was about to begin my long awaited, long hoped for, long dreamed of role as "Grand Mamah", or as we say here in Texas... "Grandma"!

Now, you're gonna' have to give this ol' girl some leeway here.  'Cause you see, I'm gonna' tell you this story as it happened, and I'm gonna' enjoy telling it.  So, you just need to sit back and relax and let this new Grandma "splut" a little...

Desserts & coffee were the planned menu.  Most of us ladies baked our favorite, prize winning recipes.  We wanted our guests to feast with their eyes as well as with their taste buds, so, I did my part.  I baked my famous strawberry cake.  Actually, I baked two of them.  Why not, since I was dirtying up the kitchen, anyway?  Well, my cake, uh-hum, cakes had a hard time in the oven, and the layers baked terribly unlevel.  Guess my house had shifted a little on its foundation, or I had the shelves in kind of crooked.  Still don't know what happened. 

So, to improve my dilemma by giving me extra icing with which to work, I improvised and tried adding marshmallow creme to the frosting.  What a great idea, huh?  It would make the cake extra gooey and rich, and everyone would wonder what the magical ingredient could be.  All would be clamoring for my recipe, and I would be the talk of the Women's Club.  Why, I would become famous, all because of a pink, fluffy, melt-in-your mouth mystery known as marshmallow creme frosting. You got it...  I added more!

Famous, indeed.   My pink strawberry cake turned out to be one of the biggest flops from my kitchen, ever!  It was a "lop-sided", "sticky icing oozing out", "layers stuck together", "pink" kind of mud pie.  A three-year old could have done better than this.  It definitely had a difficult life:  so did I right about then.  But, I salvaged the best looking one of the two cakes and provided toppings of whipped cream, strawberry glaze, fresh strawberries, and mint leaves to garnish and cover up the blob of cake beneath.  This was one of the most expensive cakes I'd ever put together:  money, yes... time, astronomical... worry, unbelievable!  The kitchen crew saved it for last, if that tells you anything about its appearance.  At least I tried... really, really tried, and I'm happy to say that the musical performance that followed out shined my cake, and that's a good thing!

Our ladies sang the wonderful Christmas songs we all love, as well as romantic standards from the 40's, while I played the keyboard and directed them from out front.  As musical director I felt a sense of pride, and our drama director smiled approvingly.  Our ladies had worked hard to memorize their music and to learn the art of singing as a choir, and all the hard work had finally turned an "almost good" choir into an "outstanding" choir.  Yes, the PAD ladies were great!  The audience responded enthusiastically to each of our songs; clapping and laughing and the holiday spirit glowed on each and every face.  Even when Santa's visit stole the show, we carried on our musical number as if his upstaging us had been the planned agenda.  It was fun to see Santa!  It was fun to sing and laugh!  Yes, it was a magical evening, for sure.

As our program segued to the sacred portion of the evening, a wonderful hush fell over the room.  The Christmas story from Luke was read while I softly played "O Holy Night" behind the narration.  The true meaning of Christmas was being revealed:  the reason for our joy, and I sensed a feeling of wonderment as I began to sing, *"Mary, Did You Know?"

Accompanying myself on the keyboard, I stood before the audience as the words flowed, "Mary, did you know your baby boy has walked where angels trod?... and when you kiss your little baby, you've kissed the face of God... Mary, did you know?".

When finished singing, I felt like God had been in that very room, and that He was still there with us.  A holy hush hung in the air, and I felt  totally surrounded by peace and calm and stillness.  Even the candles' flickers seemed to stop in motion while no one coughed, no one chinked their water glass, and no one whispered a word.

Some moments are just too intimate to talk about, and some moments are just indescribable because words are mere echoes of the emotional well within.  Then there are those moments that are to be pondered and dwelled on and thought about.  So it was with these.  Here it is almost six weeks later, and I'm still lingering there in my mind and still in awe that I was right in the middle of something very, very special.

The program soon ended, and I'd say that most were blessed by our gathering together, and that everyone enjoyed the evening.  We had a grand time.  We ladies in our new black outfits nodded approvingly to each other as we kicked off our shoes and  hugged and congratulated ourselves.  After all, we had put long, hard hours into this one performance.  Time and effort had paid off.  Funds were raised for scholarships, friends & families enjoyed the evening, and friendships grew even stronger.  After cleaning up... it was finally time to say good night and to leave the festivities behind.  So on Thursday evening, December 2, 2010, at 9:45 p.m. I gathered my musical notebook, tote bag, purse, the sticky cake carrier thing, and rhinestone earrings in hand.  It was time to go home and call it a day, or a night... or so I thought.

Driving away from the building, I turned on my cell phone to check any missed calls or messages.   The new text message from my son read:  "We at hospital.  She may be early..."!

"Oh, my gosh!  She's not due until three weeks from now.  Oh, my gosh, my gosh, gosh, gosh...!"  With suddened teary eyes  and with trembling limbs, I boldly executed a cock-eyed, wild-ride, illegal U-turn... right there in the middle of the street, in the middle of the city, right there in the middle of the big old state of Texas!  This Granny-to-Be was on her way to the hospital... rhinestones, pink sticky icing on her clothes, and all.  As I floor boarded it, I kept chanting  loud and clear, clear across Texas... "I'm comin' kids... I'm comin'...!  Hold on, Grammy's coming...!"

(to be continued...)

p.s.  Never, ever add Marshmallow creme to your regular powdered sugar frosting!  Big mistake!!!

Repaired cake.  Yes... those are straws sticking out of it!  Sigh...

Salvaged cake... Pink Strawberry Cake ready to be served!  Viola'...
Strawberry Cake Recipe: http://yoohoocindylou.blogspot.com/p/food.html


@Copyright 2010, Cindy Lou Hodges All Rights Reserved.

*"Mary, Did You Know" song lyrics by Mark Lowry

The Sugar Attack

"Oh, please, something be in the pantry."  Slam went the door.  "Oh, please... maybe in this cupboard?"  Slam-bang went that door.  "Gosh, there better be something in here...  Somethinggg!"  Groceries toppled off the shelves as I ransacked the freezer.  Frozen layers of forgotten possibilities tumbled to my feet, but even amidst all that jumble of food, there was nothing sweet to eat!

No cookies.  No cake.  No ice cream.  No pie.
Nothin' that's sweet.  Oh, no.  Oh, my!
Off to the bakery.  Off to the store.
Off to the drive-through.  Off through the door.

Out in a flurry, a scurry to find
the thrill for these taste buds, the gooey kind.
My gut is a cravin' something that's sweet.
Can't stop til I find it, can't stop til I eat...

Cookies or cake, ice cream or pie.
Out of my way.  I have pop tarts to buy!
Sugar Pops, donuts, things on a stick,
lemon drops, fudge plops.  Show me them, quick!

Attack, I tell ya... Call the armed guards.
I'm being attacked by my own petard.
T'was just a simple d'sire for dessert,
but that one little desire drove me berserk!

Now, my kitchen's a wreck.  The doors are askew.
The floor is piled high with frozen miscue's
And still there are...
No cookies.  No cake.  No ice cream.  No pie.
And nothin' that's sweet.  Oh, no.  Oh, my!
               --- Cindy Lou Hodges, Copyright 2010

And that's the truth!  Well, sort of...
At the end of my plundering, I did find something nice in my pantry:  a can of cream cheese flavored cake frosting.  Oh, yeh... it was a delicious experience!



@Copyright 2010, Cindy Lou Hodges
All Rights Reserved