Here's a lovely prayer we might want to memorize:

O eternal and everlasting God, increase my faith in the sweet promises of the gospel; give me repentance from dead works; pardon my wanderings, and direct my thoughts unto thyself, the God of my salvation; teach me how to live in thy fear, labor in they service, and ever to run in the ways of thy commandments; make me always watchful over my heart, that neither the terrors of conscience, the loathing of holy duties, the love of sin, nor an unwillingness to depart this life, may cast me into a spiritual slumber; but daily frame me more and more into the likeness of thy son Jesus Christ, that living in thy fear, and dying in thy favor, I may in thy appointed time attain the resurrection of the just unto eternal life. Bless my family, friends, and kindred. --George Washington

I just love that, it covers a lot of bases, and, of course, I am a huge fan of George Washington and am happy he is not around to see the mess the USA is in today. On the other hand, I wish he were around. I love the hymn, Rise Up, O Men of God. O men of God, arise! We could use a new contingent of God-loving and faithful, courageous men to lead this country. There are some in office, thankfully. And there are others everywhere doing good works, but somehow the majority in Washington, DC, have not the best interests of the people at heart, nor do they fear God -- no, not really. Actually, we could pray Washington's prayer not only for ourselves, but for those in authority, the Bible tells us to pray for rulers. That's my opinion, what's your?

And . . .

The life that conquers is the life that moves with a steady resolution and persistence toward a predetermined goal. Those who succeed are those who have thoroughly learned the immense importance of a plan in life. --W. J. Davison

Davison's quote is my new motto for 2010. It makes sense, doesn't it?

Hope you all have a wonderful first day of the week.

KEM

Hello. When I tried on clothes today at the mall, there were fat mirrors everywhere. The price was high (fat) for eating all those Palm Oil Mysterious May Day Chocolate Chip Cookies. For Pete's sake, I need to take my life in hand.

My friend helped me find a pretty scarf to wear under my coats. For $6.50. Better than that, we had stimulating conversation for 6 hours. I see more of this in my near future. DTD says I never go anywhere. Well, hold your horses, because that is about to change.

Dinner tonight made good use of my nice fresh ingredients. Cooked bacon, kept all the grease and added butter, sauteed onion, garlic, apples. Added brown sugar, salt and pepper, grated carrots and sliced cabbage. The end result was perfect for a cold winter's night. Made more mashed potatoes, and, of course, ate all the bacon. Apparently, the fat mirrors were exactly like what the Bible says, We behold ourselves in a mirror and go our way and promptly forget what we looked like (loosely paraphrased by KEM). To be more accurate, KEM is exactly like what the Bible says. BTW, when I was with my sister last week in a different store, the mirrors were thin mirrors, I didn't look half bad, I even surprised myself. Today I looked TOTALLY different -- blubbery and rippled and, more or less, shocking compared to 7 days ago. What gives? Yet another mystery we will hang on the deceitful little back of MMDCCC.

I won't complain about the freezing weather here in Florida because I know it is even more freezing everywhere else in the USA. Hey, this is what it is, I am subconciously eating millions of MMDCCC's because the end result will be that they insulate me from the sub-zero temperatures.

Find a way to stay warm.

KEM

So DTD stopped by today to taste the new meatloaf. Her comment: What is in this meatloaf, it tastes like fish. FISH??, I said, You have got to be kidding me, I worked 6 hours on this meatloaf. I suggested it must be the mushrooms, I'm down on mushrooms ever since I served those frozen spongy ones, all stems, with my horrible leftover Thanksgiving turkey dinner, which I wish I could get over, but I can't. I wouldn't put it past mushrooms to exude a fishy essence.

So, I came home from my hair appointment all pepped up to make a new recipe (this was before the fish remark, but the effect of hair appointments is that they cancel any discouragement for the forseeable future ). There is a recipe in Frugal Luxuries by the Seasons, by Tracey McBride. It's called Mysterious May Day Chocolate Chip Cookies. Tracey was on the prowl for a good choc chip cookie recipe. She does yard sales and bought an old cookbook and, there you have it, on a hand-written card slipped in the book was this recipe. Well, she said it was the best ever. And you know KEM and best evers.

So, it's an odd recipe and I'm not sure about the mysterious part exactly, nor May Day either, except Tracey suggests putting these cookies in May Day baskets, which we have hand-made for friends and neighbors, you know, since we all do that. Is the writer of the old card a mystery? Is it that the flour measurement is 3 - 4 cups? Or is it that the directions say to bake 7 - 9 minutes and mine took 13 minutes? Oh, I know, it's that she said you scoop up a teaspoon of cookie dough and place the tiny blobs 3 inches apart and that the recipe makes 2 dozen cookies. Okay, so I made 47 cookies using heaping huge blobs and have single handedly eaten MANY of them. Did you get that? MANY. So, did I use too much flour, what with the vague amounts, was I supposed to use less flour and have soupy dough that would spread and fill up all the 3" spaces? The recipe had a cup of oil and a cup of solid shortening and a cup of brown sugar and a cup of white sugar. And 1 tablespoon of cream, which sent me into orbit. Now I know. The mystery is that I'm still alive to report this. And therein the May Day mystery is solved, after eating a plate full of these, our last whisper will be, May Day!

DTD ate cookie dough, after picking out all the choc chips, as she said she didn't like my organic choc chips, which she had opened on a previous occasion. I know this because when I couldn't find my choc chips I asked, DTD, do you know where my chips are? She certainly did. Thankfully she hadn't eaten too many, by virtue of the fact that she hated them. Nothing like going to the pantry and your main mystery ingredient is mysteriously gone. She said the cookies had no taste, that she could taste my organic all-vegetable solid shortening, meaning, mechanically pressed organic palm oil. I have to admit, palm oil doesn't strike me as terribly appealing. Paul Bragg, the famous nutritionist and braggart, he stated in a book that palm oil was not fit for human consumption. Oh, dear. I knew I should have used half palm shortening and the other half butter, but I was giving Mystery Cookies the full benefit of the doubt.

For cookies having no taste, DTD did a fair job of grazing on them. I, obviously, think they have taste. What they really have is texture. I think it was the oil you pour, gave them a crumbly texture, kind of like short bread, only crumblier. So crumbly, in fact, that I was on the verge of temper fits moving them with my spatula. And how they crumbled between the wires on the cooling rack. And how they crumbled if you barely flirted with them.

Anyway, Ms. McBride says they are the "easiest, tastiest, and most reliable choc chip cookie recipe I have yet to find." I shall see what Mike and stepson think. We know what DTD thinks, if you don't know, just ask her, she won't give you an inflated head. It beats all to think they all three like my 10 minute children's cookbook meatloaf better than this fancy chef BH&G meatloaf. Mike said fancy meatloaf was not worth all the extra trouble. I would give up on new recipes, except if I did that, then I wouldn't have my famous chicken pot pie recipe, from the newspaper. And that would be very sad.

Okay, end of today's blog. Mike likes my shorter blogs. He can't absorb my longer ones. Ain't that pitiful?

Tub of Lard KEM

Oh, my piano teacher, who was known for her tartness, well, once we attended a recital and afterwards she referred to one of the young woman pianists as "that fat tub of lard." Mike still thinks that's the funniest thing he's ever heard. I hope he's gonna be glad he's now married to one. Don't worry, tomorrow I'm going to eat spinach and roasted beet salad at Nordstrom's, Lord willing. I have a theory that cabbage and spinach and beets eat up all the other calories and fat. Millions of Mystery Cookies will be but a blip on the radar, because we're also having cole slaw for dinner, have to use up my fresh ingredients, you know.

How is it that it takes me 6 hours to make a meatloaf dinner?

Okay, so my dear friend, of Borscht fame, gave me a subscription to Better Homes and Gardens, which I love. A long time ago I saw a meatloaf recipe that looked promising. Fast forward several months to sitting in a doctor's waiting room. I flip through a BH&G magazine. I read the letters to the editor. One lady says something like,

WHOA! Your meatloaf recipe was the ultimate. We thought our old family recipe was the best in history, but after tasting your meatloaf, we promptly ditched our recipe. BH&G Meatloaf reigns!!!

WELL. That got my little attention. But I was afraid maybe I didn't have my magazine with the sensational meatloaf recipe at home anymore. Maybe I was done with it and had passed it on. This gave me cause for great worry.

So, last night I jumped out of bed (unable to sleep because of stimulating hot chocolate) and trundled downstairs where I found the magazine on the nightstand for my mother-in-law'[s reading pleasure. There it was, the coveted recipe.

To make a long story short, I shopped fresh today and came home and chopped all these vegetables. Happy to report that in the nick of time I remembered my stepson had given me Chop Wizard, which is Dishwasher Safe. The chef who made this American Classic meatloaf recipe said that all the celery, onions, mushrooms, etc., must be chopped extra fine . . . itsy, bitsy. And I am further happy to report that Chop Wizard is a sturdy little appliance, fine quality and, by golly, it chopped everything into extra fine little cubes with no complications . . . well, very few complications. It saved me about 3 hours of chopping, and even then the recipe took 6 hours, well, including eating and cleaning up.

So, after we ate I asked, Is this recipe any better than my Betty Crocker, JR., Meatloaf, which takes about 10 minutes to put together and is loved by all? The answer was unanimous, that both meatloaves were fine. GADS. The new recipe has all the vegetables, but I can't say I'd do it again. Reminds me when Mike and I were first married and I wanted the kids to bond. I assigned that they make this elaborate Blueberry dessert. The recipe was in Southern Living, I think. I was drawn to it because the mother and her daughter were swinging on the front porch of this southern home, eating blueberry dessert, all pure loveliness. If she made Blueberry dessert, and she did, because it was her recipe, then, by golly, we were going to make blueberry dessert and be pure loveliness, too.

The kids bonded all right because they toiled ALL afternoon to make it. When I tasted it, I was like, Hey, wait a minute . . . this tastes EXACTLY like . . . French toast with blueberry syrup. I can make French toast in 15 minutes.

So, there you have it. There is no need whatsoever to do lengthy and complicated recipes, Chop Wizard notwithstanding (stepson when home with a hunk of meatloaf for saving me 3 hours). I have long been a fan of recipes with a list of ingredients you can count on one hand. Oh well, I felt the meatloaf had to be made, since I had such an interesting way of going about it. And it was very good, just by the time I sat down to eat, my taste buds had signed off. I'm sure tomorrow, when it becomes meatloaf sandwich on soft bread with Hellman's mayonnaise, that it will be so great that I will say, I cannot wait to make this meatloaf again.

No sleep and 6 hour meatloaf has put me in a royally crummy mood. I am also worried that I will sleep on my arm funny and murder it. That almost happened last night, killing my arm, it was very scary. I could hardly bring it back. Can that really happen?? Can you really wipe out a limb? It happens to the tree limbs in the ice. My icy little cracked and bleeding fingers, too. I will just be perfectly honest. Calling today quits and we'll try again tomorrow. I think I'll have French toast with blueberry syrup tomorrow, that should level the field.

I love you people in Blogland,
KEM

After last night's horror dinner, which somehow didn't slay us in our bed, tonight I chose a no-fail dinner. Salad. Well, it can fail, but that, friends, takes talent. Yesterday I bought a bag of Organic Baby Spinach Blend. I wound up getting it free because when this store overcharges you, they reimburse you. This works for me because said store is very good at overcharging. I kinda made a little fool of myself in the process, but, oh, well. See, the lady I take to the grocery, we both bought organic bananas. When I reviewed our receipts, I said, HARK!, they charged me $1.99 per pound for bananas and then turned around and charged you $2.65 for bananas, per pound.

Now, all you spiffy blog readers out there, all two of you, are all ready thinking, Who in their right mind would pay $1.99 for bananas, organic notwithstanding? Well, remember, I had no sleep the night before and jumped to bad conclusions, partly because this store's business dealings . . . hmm, I don't like them. And since I was positive they overcharged me for the spinach blend, I marched with purpose over to the service desk. Meanwhile, my friend goes to check the banana prices. A young man accompanies her back to point out that the organic 'nanas are $.99 a pound and that the weight is printed first on the receipt, followed by the price. DUH! So, of course, he was right. But seriously, here is how they print it: BANANAS, ORGANIC; 1.99/lb .99/lb. So, really, I wasn't up to sorting all that, but of course, I should have noticed when I then compared 2.65/lb .99/lb.

Well, tonight when I opened my fresh bag of Organic Baby Spinach Blend, there was plenty of Spinach, but where was the Blend? Oh yeah, there it is, that single little radicchio speck some little field bunny rabbit picked out of his teeth. Eenie, meenie, miney, mo, who gets the blend? Boy, the odds weren't in favor of this particular bag of blend. There was supposed to be arugula in there, too. HA! Don't I know how to pick em?

Today I marched (marchin so makes you feel you are the big bad person ready to shake your life down) upstairs to make sense of all the leftover Christmas boxes and tissue paper and gift bags. I'm beginning to believe leftovers are a thorn in my side. I had collected EVERYONE'S used gift boxes and carted them upstairs, you know, after we opened presents. Looking all those over, I was starting to pray for dents and tears, you know, where the scotch tape ripped off the box. It is not my technique to tape my paper to the box or tape the box shut. But that is some people's technique, bless them.

Then I wrapped some more gifts still to be distributed. I was highly hoping to use up all my nasty cheap wrapping paper. It's just one tube, but it's like the lady in the Bible who was so poor and about to use up all her oil for baking cakes. Until the prophet of God prayed for her and then the oil jar always had some oil in it. I did not pray that this roll of paper would never run out, but that seems to be the case. I tried to use it generously and when I unrolled the tube to see how much might be left, it was simply unbelievable. But, I'VE HAD IT, it's giving me a stroke and it is going to Hospice Thrift Store where it can give someone else a stroke. Ain't I nice?

I am very excited because on Friday, Lord willing, I am getting together with my old new friend. Or maybe she is my new old friend. What this means is that she is really my sister's friend from school days, but I have wormed my little self right into the big picture, starting 14 years ago. However, we never really see each other, except the few times we have. We always say, Oh, we HAVE to get together soon and ALL the time. And then the years roll (good word) by and we play the same little game all over again. But THIS time, we have a serious agenda. She is not old in age, of course, I am older than she is. But she is an old friend because anyone you have known for 40 years can hardly said to be a new friend. Yet, we are new friends . . . again. It's really lots of fun. She's the one who had us over for New Year's, which reminds me, I have to tell you my New Year's stories tomorrow, while the year is still new, not old.

Did you know it's The Big Freeze in Florida? Right along with the rest of the country. Boy, I hope they can this global warming dialogue . . . monologue if you're You Know Who. I never had my hot chocolate last night, I was way too tired, but I am blogging early tonight and I am headed for the cocoa in as along as it takes me to say, Don't get frostbite! Not to mention that I want to use up my old can of cocoa and open the new one. No more old lady cocoa. (Hope I'm not offending any old ladies out there, for heaven's sake, I'm a little old lady. Therefore, no one is entitled to take offense. I am a little old lady, but I behave as though I am NOT.)

KEM, Icewoman (it's true, I wrap my icicle fingers around Mike's throat and he about gags, he asks, How can your body temperature be lower than the air temperature? I reply, I don't know, how do I pick the only bag of blend that has no blend? I pointed that fact out to the saucy young man who directed me to read receipts correctly, This bag of blend has spinach ONLY -- had to divert his attention from my shame . . . Anyway, I am wired to be weird, just ask DTD.)

Wow. And GROSS. Tonight I made the grossest dinner you ever heard of or had the misfortune of eating. I am very impressed with myself, except in the wrong direction. What it was, was leftovers from Thanksgiving. It was all frozen, Mistake Number One. My dinner this year wasn't that good anyway, so it never should have made it to the freezer . . . not at all. The frozen turkey jelly, I'm not even sure what that was, the pan juices and who-knows-scary-what, 'cause in my haste I never strained it, well that turned into gravy . . . of sorts. Runny mashed taters, personality-less stuffing and dreadful turkey, it really was, oh, yum! Wow, again. But don't go away, it gets worse. I had frozen mushrooms in my freezer, Miscellanious Pieces, I think the package described it, the Variety Pack. Oh, goody. One look and I should have let Shock Value reign. Really, these long, gangly stems, they looked exactly like huge earth worms, and little else was in the bag. When they said Pieces, that was some sort of disclaimer for a bag full of stems, long wormy ones. Gag. Boy, when they were sauteed, you never tasted anything more revolting in your life. The texture alone, spongy tubes with water squirting out, puts Keswick's Wretched Shepherd's Pie on my list of Top Ten Favorites.

So, the only redeeming element of this meal was Borscht, which my kind friend had made for us. It was truly delicious and refreshing. Other than that, I've served my share of lousy meals, but this one was so bad it simply has to be the last. I have no idea how I ate it, and the leftovers hit the can. That is not normally my style, trust me, to throw out food. Mike is not fully aware of how DEES-GUSTING this dinner was, so I'm not about to be the informant.

All this led to my getting my hot little temper going. I decided, based upon the confidence of throwing out my orphaned old lady lipsticks, the ones my sister refused to adopt but flatly rejected in To-tal, upon contact, no questions, to throw out anything that was old, on the way to becoming old, unknown age or quantity and plain ol' just not new. I hit the pantry first, then the freezer and fridge. It was a Mad Mission and it's not stopping tonight. After I finish this post, I am on my way to the dining table because guess what? After bagging all my old papers to clear the way for Christmas dinner, (remember that?, bags still in guest closet), there are now, in ten teensy days, enough fresh (or, rather, fresher) unread newspapers to start this ridiculous cycle all over again. Yes, that's it, I've had it, I tell you. Something is clicking.

So, now I'm very excited to see what will happen. Old lady lipsticks: check. Old and older food: check. Old newspapers: check. As a lady in New Jersey who had a completely clutter-free vacation home said, Eh, I don't have time to (and here she pantomimed, with fabulous facial contortions, picking up knick knacks and dusting under them and setting them down again). SHE had BETTER things to do. And so do I.

Years ago a friend of mine I had met in the church in North Carolina came to see me when I was home visiting in Florida. She showed up just when we were cleaning out. She was the type who did not deliberate over whether to throw something away or not. No way, Baby, she got the job done. And getting it done in record time was the goal. She saw the forest, no trees were about to get in her way. I, of course, am just the opposite, I climb every tree and never realize I'm in a forest. Well, there were boxes to be gone through, lots of old, mostly useless stuff, half of which you don't even know what it is, kinda like my dinner (see above). This friend dove in in her usual breezy manner. A certain member of my family watched in speechless horror, jaws parted, at this sacrilege, a perfect stranger TAKING OVER. Picture a cartoon, with friend tossing things over both shoulders, left then right, at warp speed, and never missing the trash can . . . Ping, Ping, Ping, Ping, Ping. All the rest of us could do was lift our hand in protest and weakly utter, But . . . wait a minute . . . Later, the certain family member had to, you know, sift through the garbage . . . just in case. Well, there was a case, all right. My friend had thrown out a VALUABLE horsehair bracelet. I remember her looking at it for a split second, it was a curious object, and then over the shoulder it sailed, Ping!, along with everything else. And I mean EVERYTHING. That was her method of achieving cleanliness and order. I have to say, it works. You won't be left with so much as a stick of deoderant, but you will have order and you will be very clean, showering 10 times a day.

So. So what. If I lose a valuable object or two, that's just Too bad, Charlie. I'm done examining bark on trees. There is MORE to life. There's a forest to awaken to and I want to breathe it in.

Okay, because my dinner was bad, sad and made me mad, I'm going to go drown my sorrows in hot chocolate, with fresh milk and everything. I only got 3 hours of sleep last night, 4 at the most, but I perservered, which is always a mistake. I'm excellent at making mistakes. A nap would have made me a much sweeter nicer person. Sometimes I think the key to spirituality is lots of sleep and no stress. JK.

AND, I am going European. From now on I shop daily at my little Rollin' Oats Market. I buy fresh, I fix fresh, we eat fresh. FRESH! After all, there are only the two of us. Except DTD sneaked in here today, she left all the tell-tale signs, which mainly involve food and television.

The NEW KEM

Here's a nice quote to get us back to reality and rolling:

Returning from a back country trip, I vow to purchase nothing that I don't really need, give away everything that is excess, refuse all chores that don't arise from central concerns. The simplicity I seek is not the enforced austerity of the poor. I seek instead the richness of a gathered and deliberate life, which comes from letting one's belongings and commitments be few in number and high in quality. Scott Russell Sanders

Wow, couldn't have said it better myself :)

You will pleased to hear that last night I took my sister upstairs and I pawed through my cosmetics drawer and let her try all the lipsticks that make me look like a little old lady. I thought maybe on her they would be lovely and perfect. It's true, a lipstick on me can look a bright electric old lady orange and the same lipstick on her can look an entirely different shade, usually muted and soft and youthful. How does that work? She turned them all down.

So, my next dilemma was, Do I put these in the Goodwill sack, or do I put them in the sack lining the bathroom trash can? You know, they are all freebies that come with your little free satchel of goodies when you buy something at the cosmetic counter in the department store. I have many freebie eye shadow palettes that are virtually untouched. But you never know when I'll get invited to meet the Pope. What I like out of those kits? Face creams and mascaras. I don't use just one cream, I use whatever the spirit moves me to use. Today it's this, tomorrow it's that. We just go 'round in circles until they're all used up.

So, I think the Dead Sea eye serum and cream is making my eye skin WORSE. I should take it back and declare, FRAUD! Not to mention the girl said the eye serum came out just 6 months ago, she insisted, when I knew full well I had a half bottle of it at home that I bought a good three years ago. FRAUD!!!

So, you will be further pleased that I chucked all my old lady lipsticks into the sack lining the bathroom trash can. That's right, it's 2010 and things must take a different turn this year. I also threw out a half used tiny tub of concealer. You know how they say 30 dips in a jar and your cream is now throbbing in motion, courtesy of bacteria. Gross. Then I went wild and threw out two bottles of Cover Girl make-up, half used. It was getting nasty and I had bought one get one free, two different shades which I mixed. Talk about too much trouble and not in the spirit of above quote. Well, it wasn't that much trouble, but it was old and dry and puffy, not silky. Gross.

I now want to throw out more because my junk cosmetics drawer is looking like it can breathe again. I have this old moss hair serum, it's perfectly disgusting and I can't believe I let anyone talk me into buying it. It's thick liquid (liquid moss, nice) and green and does NOTHING for your hair except petrify it into a stiff sticky hideous mess. Wearing a gray/green curly Spanish moss wig straight off the tree would be a superior option. The fancy salon has a full return policy, if you don't like it, return for a refund. I wonder if that counts if you bought the junk 4 years ago. Guess I could find out.

As you can plainly see, I, of all people, need the quote above in the worst way. I did not take down my tree today. Now that will be tomorrow's little MUST DO. Right now I MUST DO something else, start my 2010 calendar, because if I don't transfer all my little notes, dates, appointments, I am going to be missing out on some things and that won't be pretty.

Can't wait to use up all the rest of the stupid cosmetics. I think I'll put my old eye creams on my legs tonight, see what happens then. There was that lady who became simple . . . you know what I mean. She courageously cleaned out her bathroom and dumped all her expensive cosmetics, even the ones pure and nice. She said it hurt but in the end she was happy to do it, and besides, since then her skin has never looked better with nothing more than soap and water and maybe a tad of moisturizer. Now, there's common sense if I ever heard it.

No more old lady lipstick . . . EVER!
KEM