Grouchy Face

My youtube.com find will make you smile. Even if you're in a bad mood. I promise. It's cute. It's James Taylor. You'll grin.

I'm one of the perky ones. I wake up perky. I go to sleep perky. I do my best to remain perky throughout the day. I remember about 10 years ago driving to a conference 4 hours away with co-workers. We had to get up very early in the morning to get there on time. One of the folks in my car was a total grouch in the mornings. I do mean, total grouch. We groaned amongst ourselves when we learned he'd be with us. The rest of us were either perky or neutral. After about 30 minutes of listening to our early morning glee, he grouched, "I can't take it!!! Get me outta this car!!! I've got to ride with somebody else! This is torture!" We laughed and laughed and laughed. That did not help. It definitely did not help.

Over at MaryJane's Forum some time ago, I posted a question about the morning "grumps." It was very enlightening to read the responses. We "perky ones" just assume the "grumpy ones" are grouchy by choice. As it turns out, the grumpy ones don't think they have a choice....they just ARE. Especially in the mornings. I'll not try to solve that age-old mystery here.

But, what I will do is dedicate this song to all my grouchy readers and friends.
With love,

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3PBgkNoy_Ec

Now, didn't that make you smile??

Rags to Roses Farm

Jury Duty?!

Me? Jury Duty?!

Cool!

You talk about getting a surprise in the mail. Yesterday when I opened my mailbox, I saw a "Juror Summons" laying on top. And, best of all, it had my name on it, not my husband's. I am instructed to lay all my other business aside and come to the courthouse to do my civic duty. I am delighted! I am probably one of the few people in the United States who is happy to get called for jury duty.

The jury process has always been a mystery to me. I have long wondered what happens behind those locked jury doors. Most of my humorous war stories come from my experience with juries. I'd love to be one of the jurors for a change. See what they think is important in a trial. See how the decision making process really occurs.

The only time I've gotten a glimpse into the secrets of the jury was when I was in training. This training included a fake rape trial and some old folks from the local nursing home were hired to come and be the jurors. We went through the trial and then were able to observe them as jurors making their decision in the case. We listened carefully to the things they discussed and debated. We were able to see which evidence they thought was important and what evidence they completely ignored. It was hilarious. I am certain that this was not representative of the real jury process. At least, I hope not. These nursing home jurors were all over the place, talking about things that were completely irrelevant to the true issues in the case. Cracked me up.

You can't believe how resentful many folks are to be picked for jury duty. They have meetings and business trips and actual money-making business to take care of. They try and try to get out of it. They do not want to lay that important stuff aside to determine whether someone is a burglar or not, or to determine which spouse in the divorce gets the fine china. I've said it a million times....Let's say YOU were charged with a crime and let's say YOU are innocent, who do YOU want deciding your fate? You are entitled to a jury of your peers, not a jury of the people in the county who have nothing better to do. In fact, you probably wouldn't want the people who have nothing better to do to make such an important decision about your future.

Well, except for me. You'd want me. I have nothing better to do and I could do a very good job as a juror. Oh, I hope I get picked. Maybe someone will want a stay-at-home Mom who is an ex-judge in their jury box.

Every time my name has come up in the jury pool in the past, I have been automatically disqualified because of my job. I've never had the opportunity to actually go and be a part of the process. This time, I believe that I can at least be a part of the process. I love the process. I love the courtroom.

This leads me to my question of the day. If you are reading this, I'm trying to "tag" you...did I get you?

Have you ever served on a jury? (war stories appreciated!)


Rags to Roses Farm

A Posy of Marjoram

Marjoram is not only lovely in a posy and in the garden, but is also quite lovely in the kitchen.


Here is my first entry ever in Weekend Herb Blogging ("WHB"), created by Kalyn's Kitchen and hosted this weekend by Anna's Cool Finds. I sure wish I knew how to put that nice WHB logo here, but I'm afraid that is far, far beyond my technological skills.

On to marjoram, the subject of my weekend herb blogging. Herb posies have long included this lively herb. It has a wonderful smell and pretty appearance. Years ago marjoram captured my attention at the garden center. I never did much with it, other than to grow and admire in the garden. The marjoram I know and love is origanum marjorana, a member of the mint family. It is an annual Mediterranean herb, so I dutifully throw in a handful of sand into my clay soil each year for its benefit.

It wasn't until I married my very Italian husband that marjoram captured my attention not only in the garden, but in the kitchen. My Italian mother-in-law uses this sweet and spicy herb on her chicken cutlets. So, naturally, I began to bake my cutlets with it. Soon, I started trying it on other dishes. Am I ever glad that I did.

The Internet informs me that marjoram is to the French what oregano is to the Italian. Hey, nobody told the Italians this. My family-in-law uses marjoram liberally in many different dishes. I'm here to tell you, marjoram is to the Italian what marjoram is to the Italian.

Three things to know about marjoram if you don't already cook with it.

First, it's fresh flavor is sweet yet spicy. Strong, yet mild. The herb of contradiction.

Second, it is in the oregano family, but is far more mellow than oregano. It is oregano's groovy cousin. It's quite subtle, unless you taste it alone.

And, third, like basil (and me), marjoram has a natural affinity to tomatoes.

Keeping these three things in mind, I created a soup to highlight marjoram. This Fresh Tomato and Red Pepper Marjoram Soup is completely and utterly worth the effort.

While I was chopping veggies for this lively soup, my very Italian husband came through the kitchen and commented, "You're not putting red peppers in the soup are you?"
Being die-hard Seinfeld fans, there was only one response...
I turned around with a serious face and in my best "Soup Nazi" voice replied, "No soup for you!"





Tomato and Marjoram Soup


3 tablespoons olive oil
1 small onion, chopped
7 cloves garlic, chopped
6 sprigs fresh marjoram
6 large tomatoes, coarsely chopped
1 large red pepper, coarsely chopped
1 teaspoon sugar
coarse salt
freshly ground pepper
chopped green onions and fresh marjoram leaves for garnish

Heat oil in large pot. Add onions, garlic, red pepper and saute for about 5 minutes. Stir in marjoram, tomatoes, sugar, salt and pepper. Turn heat to low and simmer for about 15 minutes. Remove from heat and let cool about 10 minutes. Take out marjoram sprigs. Pour soup in a Vita-Mix, food processor or food mill. If you use a food mill, discard pulp and seeds. Heat again over stove. Add green onions and marjoram for garnish. Serve with corn muffins.



Yum and Double Yum.


Rags to Roses Farm

Virginia's Tail

Let me tell you about my old hound dog, Virginia.

Yes, I have noticed her greying muzzle. And, yes, I have noticed that it takes some effort for her to get up now. Yes, I have noticed her slowing down. She sleeps more, frolics less. She takes a few medications each day. Yes, I knew in my head that she was getting on up there. My heart is always the last one to listen. It never wants to acknowledge such things.

Even though she has not felt very spry in the last few years, when she goes to Rags to Roses Farm she is bouncy and perky and vigorous and acts much younger than she actually is. (I do too. My husband does too.) There is a sense of freedom and openness at the Farm. It's kinda like a fountain of youth. Not a "fountain" really, but a quiet spring. And, not "youth" really, but well-being. A quiet spring of well-being. That's it. Virginia experiences this when we go to the Farm. We noticed it the first trip we made with her. In the car, she was tired. Once she got out and scoped the Farm, she was alive. She was content. She felt better than she had in years. (Me too. My husband too.)

Virginia had been some one's hunting dog along time ago. Her ears had been clipped by the hunter to show that she was his. Virginia found herself lost (or abandoned) with five hungry puppies to feed. Virginia had broken her leg somehow, but limped her way with five puppies trailing to a small home off the highway. The woman that lived there had two hungry kids to feed herself. Recently divorced, she had no way to take care of the raggedy dog and her five puppies. She feed them bread for a couple of days and then decided to call the local dog pound.

I learned of the mother dog with the broken leg and her five hungry puppies. I knew the pound would euthanize the whole lot. I called my husband. Softies, the both of us.

So, instead of us going to work as usual, the next morning my husband and I set out to find the stray mother dog. We were worried that we'd not be able to locate her. We worried that we'd not be able to get the large dog in our car. We worried that we'd not be able to gather the puppies. We worried that the mother's leg would be too injured for the Vet to repair. We worried, worried, worried. I called our Vet and told her that we were on our way to find a stray mother dog and her five puppies and then were headed to her office. "What do you want our office to do?" she asked. "Check them out. Give them shots. Fix the Mom's leg." What else would we want her office to do? "Who is going to pay for it?" she asked. "We are." Who else would pay for it? "What are you going to do with them?" she asked in disbelief. "Take care of them." What else would we do? "

We got directions and drove to the property and got out of the car. Immediately, this bony, limping tri-colored hound dog came lumbering over to us. Sweet. Gentle. Kind. Pitiful. Those eyes. And, her tail. Her tail was wagging happily; it was low but enthusiastic. We opened the car door and she jumped in. My husband and I looked at each other. Well, that was easy! Next, we located the puppies. Five in all. We put them in a box, amazed at how fat and roly poly they were. The mother, starved to death. Her babies, full and fat.

Loaded up safe and sound, we headed to the Vet's office. There we learned that the puppies were roly poly from worms, not food. The mother's leg was broken, but salvageable. Shots were delved out all around and we headed home.

The Vet described Virginia as a treeing walker. Someone's hunting dog. Someone who clipped her ears. Someone who wasn't very nice to her. The Vet noticed that first day that Virginia cowers when you offer your hand to her. She still cowers. She has unseen scars. After more than 10 years of nothing but love and gentleness from us, she's still afraid from the way she was treated. Her tail constantly wags, but rarely up in the air. She is a low tail-wagger. Some scars stay forever, don't they?

We realized soon enough that we didn't have adequate provisions for a hound dog and five puppies. We made an area for them in the house and used some chicken wire to build a make-shift pen under the deck. The puppies grew healthy and strong. The mother's leg healed to the extent it ever would (she still limps) and she put some weight on.

The date we went to find the mother and her puppies was December 20th, 1996. That's where she got her name. She jumped in our car so quickly, one of us instinctively said "Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus." That's it. Her name is Virginia. Virginia, come with us and we'll take care of you for the rest of your life.

We also kept one of the puppies. The lap puppy. We found good homes for the other four children of Virginia.

Yesterday we learned that Virginia has a serious liver and kidney issue. She was scheduled to have a tooth pulled, but the Vet called to say that her blood work didn't pass the anesthesia requirements. According to her blood work, she has some serious liver and kidney issues.

No thanks. I'm not ready to hear that. My heart can't take it. Those eyes. That low wagging tail.

Rags to Roses Farm

Mardi Gras!

It's Fat Tuesday!

I love to celebrate. I'll celebrate almost anything as a matter of fact. Just for the pure joy of gathering family and friends together. Mardi Gras has always been one of my favorites. Which is kind of funny because you'd never find me reveling at a party on Fat Tuesday at the French Quarter. I have no desire to be in New Orleans at the wild parades or to wrestle drunken party goers for a mere doubloon. But, that doesn't mean I won't celebrate the day.

We always have a fun celebration for Fat Tuesday here. No parades. And, not always a party, but always a celebration.

What about you? What are your plans for Fat Tuesday? Are you going to enjoy a "King Cake" today? With strong chicory coffee?

We do. We have a King Cake every year on Fat Tuesday. This year, I created our own King Cake. If you've never had one, King Cake is a sweet bread, rather than what I think of as a cake. I had planned to adapt that No Knead Bread that I enjoy so much, but decided to do a more traditional King Cake.

So, boy, oh boy, here's what I spent my Fat Monday doing. And, I do mean my whole, entire Fat Monday.

In the past, we've gotten our King Cakes from New Orleans. My husband does business with companies there and we always have more than one to enjoy. Most folks in New Orleans have King Cake from Epiphany (January 6th) until Fat Tuesday (day before Ash Wednesday, when Lent begins.) But, what an undertaking this turned out to be. Making my own. I had planned to post the recipe here, but I gotta tell you, you probably don't want it. I took a Christmas cherry wreath recipe and adapted it. What I created is a Fat Tuesday cinnamon and cardamon nut wreath. Was that a lot of work! You know what, though? It is fabulous! I sneaked a taste of it yesterday. I just had to after all that. Yum. Double yum. Fat yum. It will be delicious today with coffee.

So, here's the process. It will probably seem like a breeze to true bread makers or bakers. Me? I thought it was more trouble than the result merited. I'll try that No Knead Bread adaptation next year.

It all started out with a sweet yeast bread mixture.

After it's first rising, I rolled it out and added a nut cinnamon and cardamon filling. I love that spice cardamon. I'm always looking for things to put it in. Found one!

Then, it is sliced in half and twisted together.

Now, it's got to rise again.

After it rose the second time, I baked it. Then, while it was still hot I decorated it with colored sugars of purple, green and gold. Those colors of Mardi Gras are said to stand for justice, faith and power. I'll take a little more of all those things. Then, I pushed the plastic baby inside. The person who gets the piece of cake with the baby has good luck all year long. Well, as long as he or she doesn't choke on the plastic baby in the piece of cake. That would definitely be bad luck.

Finally, I drizzled a a sugar glaze on top. Yum. Double yum. Fat yum.

Wishing you a fun filled Mardi Gras. Don't forget to celebrate in some way. A piece of cake (any kind of cake), a special glass of wine, a bounce in your step. Wear purple, green and gold. Visit a friend. Smile. Do something fun. Celebrate the day.

Here's "Mardi," who hangs high on my wall in the kitchen. He is to the right of my pantry door.

And, this is "Gras." He hangs on the left side of my pantry door.

Their ridiculously happy faces greet me every day. I can't help but smile back.

Happy Fat Tuesday!

Rags to Roses Farm

Wintry Mixed Feelings

Living in the southeast, I have no idea what the feeling of being sick of the snow and cold is like. Tired of the fluffy white stuff? How can that be? Of course, the most we've gotten of fluffy white stuff EVER is probably three inches and it was gone in several days. And, the fluffy white stuff usually doesn't come alone. It is accompanied by ice and sleet and rain. You know, that "wintry mix." Have you heard the saying about Atlanta? If you don't like the weather, stay a couple of days, it will change. That's the truth. We are currently having a "cold spell." The lows in the 20's and the highs in the 40's or so. I am enjoying the crispness of it, but wish it were colder and stayed around longer. And, we're not having snow, sleet or ice.

But, I just checked the weather at our lovely Rags to Roses Farm. By 4:00 today, that fluffy white stuff is supposed to be falling. It will continue to fall throughout the night and there should be some accumulation. We've never been at our Farm when there was some real snow. We have had flurries, but nothing sticking on the ground. Our Farm is a wonderland without snow. I can't imagine its "wonderlandness" with snow. I bet that covered in snow, our Farm would be a scene that songs and poems are written about. Maybe I'd be so inspired by the whole thing that I'd compose my own song or poem.

Here's the bad news about snow at the Farm. I can't go! I can't go and play in the snow! I'm stuck here in Atlanta with responsibilities and commitments. This weekend of all weekends! Completely and utterly stuck.

I got my "snow fever" honestly. I remember as a child we would load up in our car when the weather prediction was for snow in North Georgia. We had an old station wagon called a "Lancer." It was probably a 1961 model and had cool push button gears. Anybody remember those? I must tell you that our old Lancer is still around, parked permanently in an old chicken house. It's not around and kicking, but it's still around to admire, if one chooses to do so. And I do sometimes.

Anyway, we would pack a brown bag full of food and drinks and load into the Lancer and Daddy would start driving until we found snow falling. It might be only an hour away, it might be three. Or, it might be a bust and we'd find none. The ride to find the snow was always quite the adventure. Oh, I remember that feeling of anticipation as we rode in the car. We'd sing "Jingle Bells" over and over and over. Both parents and kids would wish and hope and pray that we'd be able to see some snow. When and if we found some snow falling, Daddy would find a spot to park. Mom would wrap us up in our winter woollies that were pristine from non-use. We'd play in the cold snow until Mom and Daddy told us it was time to go. Then, we'd beg to stay longer. We, like most kids, were very good beggars. Finally, when the begging no longer worked, we'd load back up in that Lancer. We'd be wet and cold from the snow, but content and delighted. We'd be too tired to sing "Jingle Bells" on the way back home. Happy, fulfilled, tired.

Oh, how I wish I could pack up my own kid and load up in my own Lancer and head to find the snow today at Rags to Roses! Should I stay or should I go? Blow off responsibilities here and head out to a winter adventure at the Farm?

Stay. That's the only answer. I'm just too responsible.

Rags to Roses Farm

Of Neck Rolls and Red Bread

We had such a wonderful Valentine's Day celebration. Did you? I think having a party really kicked up the holiday for us. We served only red and pink foods, which made it a fun and interesting menu. I couldn't resist trying the No Knead Bread with red food coloring . That recipe is truly no fail. I used all white flour this time with no whole wheat. This bread was as delicious as ever. I thought it was pretty too. Sometimes eating red food is a little, shall I say, unappetizing. But, the bread looked beautiful. I bet the guy who created this recipe is thinking, "enough already! leave it alone!" Just wait until he sees what I'm doing with it on Fat Tuesday.

We hand-made our Valentine cards this year. We certainly have the time to do that at this point in our lives and it just makes them all the more special. My parents recently shared with me some of the Valentines I had made for them when I was a child. Seeing my own drawings and reading my own words was such a meaningful experience. The store-bought sentiment is pretty and fine and handy. But, I think that the words that come from our own hearts and brains means so much more. They may not rhyme or be poetic, but they are our own. My 5 year old daughter started making her Valentine's two weeks ago. It was a big deal for her to make them and she was excited to share them.

My daughter (with a little help from me) also did an easy Valentine's Day craft. You may remember our draft stopper craft from this past Christmas. It was so easy and everyone gave us rave reviews. This idea came from that draft stopper craft. We made lavender neck rolls for her teachers for Valentine's Day. To do this, you'll need a pair of colorful girls' tights, lavender essential oil and rice. Lavender buds are a nice addition if you have them, but are optional. Here's what you do. Wash and dry the tights. Then, pour the rice and lavender buds in a bowl and add several drops of the lavender oil. Mix with a wooden spoon to distribute the oil. Cut the legs off of the tights. We learned from the draft stopper project that getting the rice in the stockings is the hardest part. So, we cut of the bottom of a solo cup this time to use as a funnel. Next, pour the rice mixture in the stocking. This time we simply tied a knot in the end of the stocking instead of sewing like we did on the draft stoppers. We also knotted the other end just so it would look cute. We tied pink Valentine's Day ribbons on the knotted ends and included a heart-shaped card that gives directions. The note says to pop the neck roll in the microwave for two minutes and then wrap it around your neck. These lavender neck rolls smell wonderful and are very stress relieving. A little relaxation and bliss. Just what every teacher in the world needs after a day in the classroom.

Oh, we also gave the teachers some chocolate. Both common sense and experience shows that there's not much bliss to be had without chocolate.

And, I have to tell you this! I found the sister of the woman whose Farm and Farmhouse I now have and love. She is 89 and delightful. We made her some Valentines and one of these lavender neck rolls and shipped it off to her. And, of course, we included some chocolate!

Happy day after day after Valentines Day

Rags to Roses Farm