Another installment of "College Girl Meets Southern Boy" is coming to a blog near you...very soon.
I've been in a cooking rut for awhile now. But every Wednesday morning I know I'll get some good ideas for dinners. Wednesday mornings are set aside for walking and running and talk, talk, talking with my friend, Jen. And Jen is a great cook. She is also a meal planner, which, I confess, I am not - not consistently, anyway.
This past Wednesday (yesterday) Jen and I met in a different location than our usual so we could get an extra good workout. We ran the bridge and we did stairs. While I wouldn't call us Rockys, we did rock our workout!
And we had beautiful scenery as we walked, ran, talked and breathed. (If you are thinking of becoming a runner, check out my running blog: http://www.seemymomrun.com/.) Hey, guess what? Warner Bros. is shooting Dolphin's Tale right where we ran yesterday. Check this out for more information!
photo from Wikipedia
We were at the top of that bridge when Jen told me that she had tried a new recipe the night before. Since, for my birthday, she gave me the cookbook she often uses, I decided to try it, too.
Later on I went to Publix and picked up the things I needed for the new dish. Then I left my shopping cart at customer service so I could go home and get my debit card that I had left on my desk.
The recipe is *Penne with Beef and Arugula. My only change to the recipe was I did not buy arugula because I already had some very good artisan lettuce (Sam's Club). The results are below and this is only half of it in the serving dish. It was delicioso!
And for tonight's dinner, I'll be making *Turkey Meatballs and Quick Sauce. It is supposed to be served over linguine but I think we'll have it as a turkey sub sandwich. Another confession: I have never made pasta sauce! Tonight will be a first. Yay, me!
Turns out it was famous in Upson County. I had been living in the town for several weeks and had never heard of the pig park. It was not a subject of discussion where I worked.
Work. What a disappointment. I had ended up in the position of the woman who had encouraged me to submit my resume. Oops. Not good. I got her job in the administrative building and she got moved across the street to the service building. After that, everytime I was introduced to an employee in the service building, I got the evil eye. What a way to put your best foot forward and make new friends in a new town.
Speaking of feet, I wondered if I was going to ruin my pumps at the pig park. Well…I probably won’t even get out. I'll just roll my window down and wave to the little pigs.
Down Hiway 19 we drove in the dark. My date turned into a fast food place and pulled up to a speaker.
He ordered, “I’ll have the Hamburger Deluxe. Make that two. With Cokes.”
“Are we eating before we go see the pigs?” I asked.
“Look at the sign.”
I turned around and read the big sign at the edge of the Hiway.
PIGGIE PARK
“Since 1950”
If you ever find yourself in Thomaston, Georgia, do stop in at the Piggie Park and wave at the little pigs. Tell them I sent you.
I watched the brother-sister dance team as they exited the stage to a smattering of polite applause.
Following their act, several “soloists” took the stage. I use that term to describe the acts who sang along with recordings of a professional artist. Apparently it was too much trouble to lip-sync and too much trouble to sing a real solo. You know the kind where you actually sing alone and not the kind where you are singing with the radio?
Cartwheels in spandex was looking better by the minute. Maybe brother and sister would win!
My turn. Taking the microphone I moved across the stage as I sang.
“It must have been cold there in my shadow to never have sunlight on your face.”
I sang to the audience. I sang to the judges. I “emoted.”
Emote: to express emotion, especially in an excessive or theatrical manner
“I can flyer higher than an eagle ‘cause you are the wind beneath my wings.”
And the eagle landed. But not in 1st, 2nd, nor 3rd place.
The dancers of The Worm and a couple of “soloists” took the prizes.
Afterwards, my good looking date commiserated with me and told me it must have been rigged.
We left the fairgrounds holding hands and he suggested we go to Piggy Park.
Again, “Where am I? I get beat in a talent competition by The Worm and some pseudo soloists, and my date wants to take me to a pig farm.”
Could this night get any better?
Driving in the dark, down Hiway 19, I was about to find out.
The first night we went to see my date’s nephew compete in the Little Mr. Pageant. The second night we went for the corn dogs. The third night we went because I needed to make my car payment.
I had a college degree. I had a job. I had a car. But I was broke; the college degree came with college loan payments. Having heard on the radio that there was a talent competition at the fair with a first prize of $200 (ding-ding-ding-car payment), I decided I would sing and, hopefully, take home the prize money.
I had begun my freshman year in college on a partial music scholarship. My voice teacher was the best. I had auditioned for the touring choir and traveled nationally and internationally, singing first soprano for four years.
Before changing my major to Communications and Modern Foreign Languages, my teacher and I had discussed the idea of my moving to New York, continuing my vocal training and setting my sights on the Opera stage. (And right about now you are thinking, “Of course you won’t win a talent competition at the West Central Georgia Fair singing an Italian aria.”)
And, of course, you would be right but even trained singers can belt out some pop music. I put on my pretty dress, hot rolled my hair, applied my Merle Norman eye liner in “teal,” and stashed my accompaniment cassette of “Wind Beneath My Wings” in my Liz Claiborne bag (the doctor's satchel in taupe). I was ready to win a car payment!
I felt confident that I could win, if not first place, either second or third. Surely I could win third? $75 - come on. Seriously. And then I heard the theme music to Beverly Hills Cop and saw a dance duo in matching leotards - a brother and sister dance team. They were up first.
Ohhhhh, they won't win. Cartwheels? Where am I? Was there a tornado in the night and I was blown away to some parallel county in the Deep South? A place where brothers and sisters in garish dance costumes do the Worm while the fragrance of fried pork skins wafts? I repeat, "Where was I?"
With second thoughts on how this might all go down, I waited my turn, nervously tapping my snakeskin, peep toe pumps.
(Part 2 of "College Girl Meets Southern Boy" will resume shortly.)
Before
Big Girl Coffee Adventure
I consider myself a bit of a boring coffee drinker. I like my 2 cups in the morning and maybe a decaf in the evening. However, I do not like sweet coffee. My preferred cup is a robust or extra bold coffee with a splash of real cream.
Take me to a coffee house and I get anxious. It seems everyone around me knows how to order a frappe, latte, mocha, ccino-thingy and I stare blankly at the menu board and ask about the "house coffee."
At the Tampa airport a few weeks ago, I asked for my usual "robust" and ended up walking out with a Tall Italian. (I still laugh to myself about that one. I just think that's funny.)
On facebook I kept seeing references to Starbuck's Pumpkin Spice Latte. Apparently Sbux fans wait all year for this seasonal offering of pumpkin pie with whipped cream in a cup!
Never do I, rarely have Isometimes I don't back down from a challenge and for someone like me who is menu-challenged, ordering a mixed coffee would be quite the personal accomplishment!
I know some of you really don't get it. But you would have to be in my head (a scary place at times) to understand how BIG is this idea of marching up to the barista and casually rattling off my coffee order that included more than ONE ingredient.
Last night I decided that this morning would be THE MORNING. There is a Starbucks 7 minutes from my house and after studying the online menu many times, I was ready. By the way, do you know that a blueberry scone from Sbux has 460 calories?!
I was amazed at the calorie counts of the blended coffees and realized that my simple cup o' joe has saved me millions of calories over my coffee drinking years. Sure, I enjoy a delicious coconut cream pie and I know a lady who makes the best up in Baltimore. But I guess I enjoy chewing my calories!
That being said, a new friend of mine who knows all about barista-ing at Sbux suggested I actually converse with the expert at mixing coffee flavors behind the counter. Hey...there's a concept worth pursuing. And that's exactly what I did.
But first, to arm myself with caffeinated courage this morning, I fixed myself a cup of coffee. Robust with a splash of cream (20 calories). Yes, I had a cup of coffee BEFORE going to Starbucks for coffee. That just sounds so wrong. But I enjoyed it so much.
And then I gathered up various and sundry items for my errands that I would run with my PSL (that's how we coffee connoisseurs refer to Pumpkin Spice Latte) in the cupholder of my Terraza. (That's my Mom van.) Latte. Terraza. I'm suddenly feeling very Italian. Prego. (Not the spaghetti sauce; they say that a lot in Italy and it means lots of things.)
When I arrived at Sbux and parked the Terraza, I took a deep breath and I think I actually said to myself, "You're a big girl now. You can do this. Go get your latte! And don't forget your purse. And double check that you lock your door."
I marched right in and hovered between disappointment and relief that no one was in line. I told Mr. Barista Man that I had heard tell of these pumpkin drinks and I wanted one. But not too sweet.
And he said, "Ok. Then I'll put fewer pumps in it." Yeah...that's what I'm talkin' 'bout. Fewer pumps. Which is exactly what my Baltimore Barista FB Friend told me I should request.
Wow. That was easy. And then he asked what size. I could have gotten nervous here. But I was cool. I had studied the menu, remember. Cool as a cucumber or an Iced Caramel Macchiato, I remember my Tall Italian in the airport ~ Ciao, Baby ~ and I reply, "Tall."
And then he hit me below the belt. He offered to give me my drink for free if I purchased the new Via. Did he know who he was talking to? I am the queen of the Publix BOGO. Of course, I'll buy the Via if he is going to buy my Big Girl Coffee! Hook me up, baby. And then he admitted to me that he, too, prefers the flavor I picked ~ cinnamon spice! And I think he meant it.
It was a good deal.
And that was it. Well, almost. I hovered at the ordering place instead of the pick it up place and another barista had to wave me toward the tall round counter. Hey, I was wearing running shoes...and at 5'2 1/2"...all the counters are tall.
I got my PSL and headed toward the Terraza. I sipped and drove and sipped and drove and felt very much like a Big Girl. And for the record, I enjoyed every calorie of my Pumpkin Spice Latte from the Starbucks! I may have even tried to chew a little. Ciao for now!
Our first date was at a county fair. And so was our second. And our third.
All mine
He was a Southern boy who never met a stranger. I admired that. He was polite. He opened the doors for me. He told me I was beautiful. And he sent me dozens of yellow roses ~ my favorite. I was a recent college graduate with big dreams and big hair living in a small town.
~1985 ~
Taken a couple of weeks before I met my Southern beau.
The photographer told me not to smile in this one!
My father was a preacher who had planted churches all over the country while serving God and people. His father* was an Army man who had served his country and whose roots were planted in the middle of Georgia .
Our mothers were both raised in the South and each loved her husband and children. And both could put a meal on the table that would make your mouth water and your tongue say, "Thank you, Maam."
I moved from my college town in Tennessee to his central Georgia town the summer of my graduation. Although I had accepted a job at a local newspaper office in Tennessee, my dad convinced me to come home. "Home," at that time, was an even smaller town in south Georgia. It seemed my chances at a career and in finding a husband were getting as small as the small towns I was living in.
That summer my parents moved from the charming little town of Alma, Georgia, to the slightly larger town of Thomaston in central Georgia. At least I was getting closer to Atlanta ~ only one hour away! And I had plans for Atlanta and me.
But on a Sunday in September all my plans were about to change.
*I never met my husband's father. He passed away from leukemia when my husband was 16.
(I sent my husband an email this morning to tell him I had a surprise for him on my blog.So I got an email in reply with "WOW" in the subject line and he wrote: "OK I was surprised by the post. I can not wait to see what happens next." To which I replied, "Well…you KNOW what happens next." And now I'm wondering if I make something up, will he know it?)
Ever had one of those dreams that when you first wake in the morning, it takes a minute to realize the dream is not your reality? I had one of those kind last night and man am I glad it was just a dream!
Recently I was with friends and the subject of dreams came up. I asked, "Don't you love the Flying Dream?" One friend looked at me blankly and the other nodded his head up and down.
My Flying Dream always starts the same. There are people following me in a suspicious manner. So I gently flap my arms and fly just above the tree tops. I never go any higher than that. It's a safe distance. Meanwhile the group on the ground continues to chase after me waiting for me to descend. When I feel myself losing altitude, all I need do is flap a bit and I'm back above the tree tops! My interpretation: I want to escape the expectations of others and fly freely! Alternative interpretation:The people on the ground are my family and they want to know what's for dinner.
Another dream I've had throughout the years is the Oops, I Forgot About This Math Class Dream. I haven't liked math since 9th grade when the math teacher humiliated me in class. And it was not because I couldn't solve the problems. It was because I could solve the problems and when I finished my classwork and my homework, I would read my library book. He told me never to bring another library book to his class again. A few days later he transferred me to another class and I won't even finish the disastrous story! In the Oops, I Forgot About This Math Class Dream, I am a college student and it is the week of finals. I realize that I have never even attended my math class all semester! I am left trying to explain this to the teacher and plead for mercy. This is a very bad dream. Very bad. My Interpretation: I can't keep all my "ducks in a row" and math is a very bad duck. Very bad. Alternative Interpretation: I'm an English major. You do the math!
And I save the "best" for last. In the I Don't Know I Am N@ked Dream, I am a teacher and I have an early morning faculty meeting. In this dream sometimes I drive to school and sometimes I walk. Either way it is not until I sit down in the meeting that I am aware that I am completely unclothed. Oh the shock and awe! (Everyone is shocked and I keep saying, "Aw, I'm sorry. Aw, I'm so sorry.") I sit and try to cover myself as best I can. I look around hoping to borrow a coat, a scarf, a clipboard...! Anything. Slowly the other teachers realize that I am sans clothing, too. As panic rises, I awake. My Interpretation: I feel inadequate and fear exposure. Alternative Interpretation: When I say, "I have nothing to wear! It's true!" Tomorrow, class, we will discuss the When I Open My Mouth, My Teeth Fall Out Dream. That's a bad one, too. Very bad.
Whew! Still have my teeth...
And this is the part where I pretend to be a psychoanalyist (That was hard to spell.) or just a little "psycho." To those dreamers who have asked for my interpretation of your dreams, here goes. Remember I don't really know what your dreams mean, I just pretend I do for this blog post.
2nd Cup of Coffee: Although you have quite a sense of humor, you also have a very serious, pragmatic side. Sometimes others don't get that part of you. That is why in your dream, no one else seems to realize the "seriousness" of the situation. You sometimes feel that "the group" would prefer you have a seat, have a sandwich and tell a joke!
Lilly Belle: When your mother asked, "Lilly Belle, if all of your friends jumped off a bridge, would you do it?, she didn't realize that you were the leader of the "jump off a cliffers." Actually, since I have known you for years, I know that you are the "cool kid" that everyone wants to hang out with. Maybe you just want to escape that every once in a while. And jumping off a cliff is a very dramatic way in which to escape. I mean, I just fly above the tree tops!
Laurie: All anyone has to do is read your blog for a while and they will know you are highly creative! And the fact that you have researched why you dream "crazy" dreams, makes me feel I know you a bit better. I am the one who recently told a friend that I may need my own personal "crazy checker."
Forever in our Hearts & our Eternity (4/25/97 - 12/15/09)
Visit My Running Blog.
Just The Two of Us
August 1 ~ Happy 24th! ~ "Two such as you with such a master speed cannot be parted nor be swept away from one another once you are agreed that life is only life forevermore together wing to wing and oar to oar." ~ Robert Frost
~Our Children~
Mother's Day 2009 ~ Andrew, Avery, Audra & Ted
~~Puppy Love~~
Andrew & his pup, Ted
Andrew Christopher Dorsey
Our 3rd child ~ no longer with us, but forever in our eternity!
Skate Fast ~ Skate Far
Now he skates on streets of gold! Oh, how I love this boy.
Living out my dreams, I spread my wings on the west central coast of Florida, loving 1 fine man, 3 fabulous children and a pup named Ted. My thoughts soar with words for wings.
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