If anyone  reads, please pray for this precious child.

Tonight, I was playing on the computer when Revolutionary Road came on. I was not intending to watch it but found it interesting. I have, of course, heard of the book, but have not read it. Maybe, I will love it too. Tune in next time and I will let you know.

Thank You God, for one more year. 

 It was a great Christmas.

Another Christmas is almost gone. I always have a little sad moment right about this time every year. I told the hubby this morning, that all we do for these  several weeks, and the only thing I truly enjoy is when the kids come over on Christmas Eve, spend the night, get up early, open presents, and eat a huge breakfast. As I was cooking this morning, I listened to them laughing and my eyes filled with tears of gratitude and joy. I am so blessed. Life is good. Thank You, God for your son, and the love in our hearts.

Grocery store and fried chicken

     I went to the grocery store one Sunday at noon. They fry the best chicken there. If you don’t get there early, you don’t get any chicken. Who knew that this small town grocery store, when they built it would need a much larger kitchen? Us Southerners did. But, they did not ask us. No surveys were done on how much fried chicken could a small southern town after church on Sundays eat? They also did not realize not only were they hiring cooks, but some of the best women/Mothers/Grandmother cooks in this town. Man, can they fry up some chicken! Never, I repeat Never stand between a southerner, after church on Sunday, and his/her fried chicken! If you want the fried chicken in this store, you better place an order early or they run out of chicken. I knew the importance of this, and my entire family, cousins, creek kin, and all were coming for Sunday dinner at my Dad’s after church. And who, you may ask is to provide all the fried chicken for this clan? You probably guessed, smart readers, that would be me. Knowing the importance of this, I, not only called ahead, I went to the store in person, the day before and put in an order for several buckets of chicken. They were to have it ready just before lunch the next day. Ok, move forward, Sunday afternoon I go to pick up my chicken, told them my name, and the sales clerk, who I could tell right off, did not want to be there that day said to me. “We aint got no order for no chicken with your name on it”. Obviously she did not have my ticket. That was the end of that. (She thought). Seriously, she just went back to what she was doing, obviously not realizing the seriousness of this situation. I then said, where is my chicken? She looked at me, like, “are you crazy”. “Maam, I don’t have your chicken.” I said, “someone in this store, will tell me what happened to the chicken I ordered”! She then asked me, would I like to see a manager, in which I so eloquently replied. “Duuuh”????? So the dep’t manager comes up, asks me, in a way like I am really bothering her, “can I help you with something” I attempted to explain to her that I had placed my order the day before and now they don’t have my chicken, what’s up with that. She said, well we place the order, writing it on a piece of paper, like this, she showed me the paper they wrote it on, and stick it to the clipboard, over here, she demonstrated, (like she is having to explain to an idiot about ordering chicken) and then had the nerve to say to me. “I don’t see it there,  do you”?  It was at that point whereby I start, as my husband says, talking through my teeth. It is a barely restrained rage, and I feel as if I open my mouth, I will say things that Jesus will remind me of one day at the pearly gates, he will say to me “do you remember that time up in the middle of the Piggly Wiggly that you called my name, not in prayer, but in vain? So, I keep my teeth clenched, afraid if I open my mouth, I will start spouting out a string of curse words, like a person with Turrets. Then, very adeptly talking through my teeth, I explained to her what the paper looked like that the clerk the day before had written on, that it was a different size and color all together. My visual memory could see it in my mind as she wrote down my name and phone number. She then told me that they do not even have paper like I was describing to order on. I reached behind the counter where she was standing and picked up a blank one and showed her what it looked like. She then said, Oh well, I guess when we were closed anyone could have came back here and reached on that board and took it off that the order board. I then suggested to her that some of her staff probably took it off said order board so they would not have to fry so much chicken. She was about ready to talk through her teeth at that remark. I then proceeded to tell her, still through my teeth, that a better way to do things would be for them to make out a ticket, give me a copy, or a tab, or a signature, number, anything to link me back to that order. I surmised by her expression that she was not really open for suggestions on how to run her department. So, I asked for her manager. She said he was on vacation, she was in charge, but she would get on the phone with the assistant manager. She proceeded to talk to him, and all I could here her say, was “No, Yes, No, Not really”, and a few mumbled words I could not make out. God only knows what she was saying about me. When she put the phone down she said “Maam, I don’t have your chicken, we are backed up here and all I can offer you is fried chicken strips. I will let you have it for free, would you like for me to do that”, I agreed, and she boxed it up. As she was handing it to me, she said. “I am sorry this happened”. That’s it. Three little words. Do you see what I had to go through to get those three little words. All this time and not once did anyone say that to me, until I was leaving. That’s all I wanted in the first place. If the person, I talked to had just said to me, “ I am sorry, I don’t know how this happened, how can I make it right for you, this is what I will do, and this is what I will do different here to make sure this does not happen again”,  I truly, may have been outdone, but I would have accepted it, because everyone makes mistakes. Just make it right. If you are in customer service, place yourself in that customer or consumers position and look at it from their point of view, whether you feel you are right or not. It is not personal. It’s not about you. It’s about the customer. It’s about your job. How hard is that to understand?

BTW, names have been changed to protect the innocent. The innocent here would be Piggly Wiggly. I shop in a small town grocery store very similar to Piggly Wiggly, but it is not actually, “The Pig”.

Also, if Ms. Pat is working, she makes the best mac and cheese. It’s  the bomb. But, if you ever were to go there, don’t mention my name. LOL

OK, yesterday, I made this absolutely stunningly beautiful gorgeous RED VELVET CAKE. It was white as snow with piping around the edges and pecans (peeeeecans, is how you say it here in the South, not puhcans, repeat over and over to yourself until you get it right) on top, and  crimson red inside.  I wish I had taken a picture to show you.  When I finished, I had a discussion with my husband about would we have enough food for the masses (his family) coming for dinner. He said, should be plenty. I said, “sure as Hades better be, because I am not cooking anymore today.”  Then, with my overly dramatic self, white icing and red food coloring all over me, and a butter knife in my hand, I held it up like a sword, and shouted,in a sing-song voice,  ”LET THEM EAT CAKE”
Well, thats a statement I make a lot, or a least every time I bake a cake. I could not remember where I heard that from, or who said that. So, I consulted a couple of geniuses I know, maybe you’ve heard of them, Google and Wiki, Pedia that is. This is what I found. Contrary to popular belief, Marie-Antoinette did not say this. No one knows who did, it is derived from the French, and it translated literally means, “Let them eat Brioche”.  Sometime in the 1700′s in that far far away land, laws required bakers to sell fancy bread, or brioche (similar to bread) at the same cost as plain breads  if they ran out of plain bread, and rumor has it, some princess (not Marie) remarked to a servant when they told her the poor had ran out of bread and were starving,  to let them eat cake or brioche,  and as one website said. Let them eat warm, soggy, eggy, bread, just wasn’t as catchy as my phrase, “Let them eat cake.”  Ha Ha, you have had your history lesson for today.
As for my brioche, I mean cake, it was as tasty as it was beautiful. I intend to make another sometime this week for a dear sweet friend. (Note the word intend in the previous sentence). If I do make this cake, I will take a picture, and I might just change my phrase to, “LET THEM EAT BRIOCHE”.

The road to Heaven must be paved with my good intentions.

Who said that?

Me.

I am now totally flipping to a different subject. Just the way my mind does. The dog has yet another yeast infection in his ears. Vet visit today $147.00. Having someone to help me hold down a squirming 100 lb golden retriever who hates to have his ears cleaned. PRICELESS!

To whom it may concern: I did finish this blog without cutting away anything or straying from my subject, probably because there was no subject in this meaningless post.

My Grandmother always said,  that when you look back on your life you will realize that the best days were when your children were small enough to sit on your lap.

I would agree with that. My oldest son crawled in my lap until he was about 10.  One of those nights as he crawled in my lap, I asked him. “Do you think you will ever get too big for my lap.”  “Nope”, he said.  He was wrong.

 He was born just a few weeks before my 20th birthday. A product of a teenage pregnancy. His father and I married immediately. For seven years we tried to make it work. The guilt I feel for failing at that will be with me until the day I die.

I was 19 when he was born.  I had no idea you could love someone so much. I beamed with joy. He had an awesome personality the minute he was born. NEVER, NEVER, NEVER, not once, did I regret having him. Unlike some teenagers or young people who have an unplanned pregnancy, I never felt I missed out. It was like, OH MY GOD, this is what I was born to do. There is nothing out there I would rather be doing.

At 18 he went away to college. He is  a people person, scared of nothing, never met a stranger, an extrovert in every  way. Vivacious, Loud, Loving, Kind, excels at everything. That day he left for college, he just said, “Bye Mom” I will see you later. My life for 18 years just walked out the door, happy as could be. And I fell in the floor. Devasted. I cried day and night for two weeks. He never knew. I would not dare put a damper on his moment. For me, it seemed I had a beautiful baby one day, and the next he was gone. Where did the time go?

When he finished College, he called me, saying, “Mama, your baby boy is graduated” I beamed with joy. He settled back in this town. He started seeing his high school girlfriend again. I always thought they would marry. But, tragedy struck and she died in a horrible accident. It is the only time I have ever seen him so down. I never knew pain until I knew my children’s pain.

  He is now 25 and still my baby.  He has dated a beautiful girl for five years now. I wondered would he ever give his heart again. He called me yesterday and said. I am looking at a diamond, what do you think? He gave her a diamond today. And again, I couldn’t be more proud.  

When he was four, he gave me a plaque with a mold of his small hand on it ,that he had made in Bible school. It says:  Here is my hand so tiny and small to hang somewhere upon the wall, to watch as the years go flying by, how we grow my hand and I.  I reflect on that tonight and think, the years did go flying by.

Now, he is  grown, and Grandmamma was right.

 I still say the same prayer I did 25 years ago, Thank you God for choosing me to be the Mother of this child.

 What blessings I have!!!