Happy Food Memories To All

I was composing this post in my head as I grated 12 cups of cheddar cheese.
OK, it was more like 3 cups, but my arm felt like it was 12.
I'm not cooking a turkey, and I am not hosting 23 people, but I am providing an important part of the meal... an appetizer. You know, because we won't have enough food at lunch.
A cheese ball with crackers to be specific. A homemade cheese ball. Don't get all impressed... it's so simple.
Which got me to thinking.
A younger cousin of Dan/Daddy requested the cheese ball. Requested that I make it. I love her to pieces, and I am happy to oblige, but anyone could have made it. Her mom has the recipe; her aunt (my mom-in-law) makes them, too. But she requested mine.
I know for a fact, that my cream cheese/cheddar cheese/spices concoction tastes no better than theirs would.
There's something about a person contributing part of the meal that makes a memory.

I have vivid associations of food with certain people. And I know I'm not alone.

My mom makes the very same cheese ball at Christmas, and it doesn't feel like Christmas without it.
My Mamaw's macaroni and cheese... no family meal is complete without it.
I remember my cousins requesting my mom's hot Velveeta dip every New Year's Eve.
I remember craving my aunt's layered Mexican dip.
No one can make a hash brown casserole taste as good as my Granny could.
Any one of us can make those things, but there's something special about the same person making it.

I have always known food and memory were connected, but I never really thought about how certain foods tie us to memories of certain people.

Now I understand why my cousins begged for my mom to make the same dip.
So, Rachel, the cheese ball is in the fridge.
I'm honored you ask me to make it.

I hope you are all with the people you love over the next few days.

Have a blessed Thanksgiving.

Roll Tide and Rainy Headaches

Two very important things happened over the weekend:
1. The boy went to his first Alabama football game.



2. I'm getting a job at the Weather Channel predicting (with 82% accuracy) when rain is coming.

Just kidding. I'm not getting a job at the Weather Channel. I can, however, predict the rain. Actually, it's my head that predicts it. Actually it's my raging headache that predicts it.
It started Saturday afternoon, but I blamed it on the screaming and cheering at the game. By 4:00 a.m.-ish Sunday morning, I was ready to chop off my noggin to relieve the pain. By midnight-ish last night, I was hearing thunder and rain. I had an "ah ha" moment lying there in my bed. The headache always comes before the rain.
That sounds like something you could put on a t-shirt. Or a mug.

Anywho...
The football game was a roaring good time. Dan's parents were able to get the tickets for us all, so we met them there. I believe, at one point, the boy leaned in and said, "This is better than Christmas."

This boy LOVES Alabama football.



We lived in Alabama for about 12 years, but we never swore any allegiance to either of the two big rivals.... Alabama or Auburn.
We had church members who insisted we make a choice (Alabama or Auburn) or we couldn't partake in Communion. Well, it wasn't quite that bad. But, it's not far from it.
We were always able to take the neutral road. Dan/Daddy was a Florida State fan, and I was a Clemson fan. Easy.
When the boy came along, another football fanatic was born, but he didn't really have a favorite team.
Until... while we were living in California, he said,
"If I was born in Alabama, that will be my favorite team."
So the logical love of all things Crimson Tide began. When they won the National Championship a few years after that, he was a goner.
It also gives Dan/Daddy and me a chance to join forces, and we all root for the team that represents the state we love so much.
The boy would have filled out an application on Saturday if we had allowed it.



PS... I made sure he saw the soccer fields while we were there.

Making Cats Everywhere Happy

My Wednesday night conversation with the boy:

Me: Please come in here and feed Subway. (our cat)

The Boy: OK... (getting cat food out of the pantry)
What if cat food bags had tiny cat prizes in it like some cereal does?

Me: Hmmm. That sounds like a good idea. Cats would be picking out their food just for the prize.
Why don't you invent that and make your momma rich?

The Boy: Nope. Me and Subway will keep all the money.

It's a win/win situation for cats everywhere.
Remember, you saw it here first.

I'd Rather Be The Po-Po

I was about to title this post: Local Yokels
When I looked up the definition of "local yokel" on a few websites, I realized I am not...

local yokel:
1. Trucker slang for city police officer as in
"That town up ahead is crawling with local yokels."

(By the way, I call them the po-po.)

The definition I was looking for was:

local yokel:
2. a naive or gullible inhabitant of a rural area or small town

We've lived here 4 months now, and it still fells like we're settling in.
In an attempt to feel more like folks who know what's going on, we have been "touring" and "visiting" parts of the area.
I don't want to be a naive local.

We went hiking at a cave and park; it has been a beautiful Fall here in these parts...






On the day we were at the park, I made a decision to become a nature photographer. Not because I think my photographs are amazing, but because nature cannot talk back to me or complain.
Taking pictures of my people has become such a chore, a burden, and a pain in the patootie. And I only have two people! You brave souls out there with 4+ kids? You are in my picture-prayers.

The biggest complainer, sadly, happens to be the cutest person in the family. So I take a nerve pill and keep taking his picture.


We also took a short road trip to "Land Between The Lakes." It's a large national recreation area that covers parts of Tennessee and Kentucky. It is THE place to go for boating, camping, hunting, fishing, and summertime activities. Did you get that?
SUMMERtime activities.
This place shuts down from November to March.
Meaning we were the only people there besides two 88 year-old tour guides. And a sleepy park ranger. And a cook and a waitress at the ONLY place in town to eat.

They have a bison and elk prairie that is part of a project to reintroduce those species and their habitat back into the area. So cool. You pay $5 per car to drive through.
The sign that greets you at the entrance got me all excited...


Another sign said the current population was Elk:45, Bison:47
We saw absolutely nothing.
Not. One. Single. Thing.
Almost one hundred bison and elk were hiding. 2000 pound and 800 pound animals... hiding.
At least the views were nice.


As we were leaving the park area, we saw one more bison pasture, so we slowed way down and strained our eyes, and...
There they were.
Lounging around on a hill where I could see them for free.


So we three yokels are a little more local.
I would still rather be the po-po.

Chalkboard Confessions IV

First and foremost... a big shout out Happy Birthday to my mom!!!
She is someone I am so very thankful for every day. Enjoy your birthday, Mom!

Now.
You've heard that old saying...
"When the cat's away, the mice will play."
In our house, when the cat's away, the mice take his turn at 30 Days of Thankful.



So far, we are thankful for:
Food (written by the consumer of groceries)
The Cross
Coffee (written by the consumer of coffee)
Salvation
The time change (written by the tired me)
A great son and wife (not written by the dad/husband)

Dan/Daddy is out of town and the boy decided to fill in for him on his turn.
Apparently, we are great.

The 10

Here we go on a Tuesday morning.
Roots and Rings is the place to link up...


1. What’s your favorite television show for each day of the week?
Our TV is usually on cartoons or Animal Planet or The Discovery Channel. I hardly ever watch "grown up" TV, besides the news. Because of cable, I don't even really know what's on anymore.
Monday - Criminal Minds reruns
Tuesday - 19 Kids and Counting or Chopped
Wednesday - a new episode of Criminal Minds
Thursday - Criminal Minds reruns
Friday - Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives
Saturday - this time of year... College Football
Sunday - Sister Wives or CSI Miami
Y'all, seriously. My TV viewing habits are a bit embarrassing.

2. How many times do you wear your jeans before you watch them?
2-3? Depends on how baggy they get. That drives me nuts.

3. What is your favorite pasta shape?
The shape that the recipe calls for. I'm not being a smarty pants; I don't have a favorite.

4. Do you read newspapers?
Nope. Used to.

5. Do you sleep in socks?
Sometimes I start out in them, but I end up pulling them off.

6. Favorite genre of movies?
No favs here, either. I like them all... even action adventure sci fi stuff.

7. How do you feel about wrestling?
I feel that the kind on TV with the giant costumed men is RIDICULOUS.
The other kind is ok, but the outfits are RIDICULOUS.

8. Should men pluck their eyebrows?
If their eyebrows come around the corner before they do? Then, yes.

9. Do you have dimples?
Only in places where it's not cute.

10. Do you like to camp?
Yes, for a short time. I love my indoor potty and my shower and my bed.

A Momma's Confessions About Football

Did you hear a big ol' cheer? It was me.
Our football season is officially over.
(I am in no way referring to the sad Alabama/LSU game. We are still proud and loyal fans, and there was no cheering going on.)
I am talking about the boy's season of tackle football.

This year, he played on a team on the base. We made a 1 hour drive 3 times a week. Sometimes 4. Practice was 2 and a half hours each time. When they started in August, it was 102 degrees. At last weekend's games, it was 35 degrees.
Our days consisted of rushing home, slamming a snack, cramming in the homework, and then zooming to practice. Then it was rush home, cram in some dinner (or spend more money eating out), and then fall into bed. Usually late.
I am glad to see it end.

This was also a "trial season" for our athlete.
You see, the boy has always been a soccer player. He loves it, he says it's his favorite, and he's really good at it. But...
He always talks about playing football. ALWAYS.
He played one season of flag football, and he played once on a traveling team where we were all miserable. So he kept talking and talking and talking about playing again; he just never wanted to follow through with all that talk. This year, he finally decided to give it one more try. One more try to see if it was truly a sport he wanted to play.
He had a blast.
He loved it.
His momma, however, did not love it as much as he did.

(This is the part of this post where I vent my frustrations.)
I would rather watch football than watch my son play football.
It stresses me out.
Y'all have heard my theory on the need for all that padding and protection. I have 4 friends with kids playing football this year... All 4 of them were sidelined with injuries. One ended up in the hospital. As in... surgeries.

I do not enjoy watching ginormous kids tossing my son around.
He was the 3rd skinniest person on his team. He's not built like a football player at all.
But, he loved it.
I will never tell him what he can or cannot choose to play. I will always support him and take him to practice and cheer the loudest on any sideline.
But...
This is what happens to skinny soccer players when they get tackled on a football field.



That's the boy's hip 7 days after the hit and after the swelling finally went down.
He may be able to look me in the eye with his 100+ pound self, but he is still my little boy.
My little boy who never looked like that after a soccer game.

But he loved it.
Have I mentioned how much he loves it?
(He also loved the week his coaches made him sit out of tackling drills because of his injury. There's hope.)

So I will wait for another year to roll around to see if he's going to play again.
It is, after all, his decision.

His newest plan is to play soccer in the Spring and football in the Fall.

I may have to be checked out of the nut house to go watch his games.