In the Kitchen Again

As a senior in high school I opened my first business - selling sweet goods around the holidays.  My primary customers were women in my church.  I put a flyer up on the bulletin board and I think I made close to $400 selling layered cakes and bars that consisted of chocolate or peanut butter or both.  There really is no better combination than chocolate and peanut butter in my opinion.

I don't think of myself as a great baker or cook, but I'm pretty decent; I rely heavily on great recipes.  Miss Mary supplied me with all my great sweet goods recipes.  My whole life I remember checking out the desserts first at Sunday night church to see what Miss Mary brought.  Ten-layered chocolate cake.  Peanut butter fingers.  Homemade kit kat bars.  It didn't matter what she brought, I always went back for seconds.  And thanks to Miss Mary, my love of being in the kitchen started early.

Miss Mary invited me over to her house to watch her bake a cake one Sunday afternoon.  I later learned that she had never let anyone in her kitchen while she baked - not even her sisters.  When I arrived there was a stool in the kitchen that was to become my seat for several cooking lessons.  She opened her cabinet and there were rows of Ziplocs.  Sugar.  Flour.  All ready to make a cake at the last minute for a sick loved one, a grieving family, or just a Sunday evening at church.

She told me that she learned from watching her mom bake.  And she pulled out an old silver spoon for stirring.  This spoon had belonged to her mother.  It had stirred so many treats that it was actually bent at a 45 degree angle.  Miss Mary said she uses no other when baking.  Two generations of love went into her cakes and goodies, which is probably why there were always so good.

I reminisce about my early days in the kitchen because I have just rekindled my love there.  I bake less and cook more these days.  I don't sell any of the food this time around, its gobbled up almost immediately.  But nonetheless, I am really enjoying being in the kitchen again.  I would love to learn and improve.  I wish there was a local culinary school, or classes at some of local colleges.  I would be the first to sign up.

Fresh, Beautiful Flowers

Ahhh, flowers.  They weave in and out of our life story.

Today begins the first of many for Grant, Kyle and all of Lakewood as they change out their annual flower beds.  LB and I made a trip out to their shop today to see the first of many plant deliveries.  Bright yellow.  Soft yellow.  Purple.  Blue. White.  It is a sea of beauty as you walk around the plant pin.

Look out Dothan - fresh, beautiful flowers are about to be sprinkled all over the Wiregrass.

No, Its a Horse

Dog! No, its a horse.  Ooo ooo, dog! No, its a horse.  Dog!  No, Laura, its a horse.

Almost every animal is called a dog these days.  I think we're on the verge of learning bird.  But we're happy to take it one at a time.

This past Friday we were very fortunate to visit a horse farm for our Friday playdate.  Some friends of ours ride, train and compete - and I know I could never do justice trying to explain everything, so let's just leave it at they are awesome and we had a great time.  Here are a few pictures.

Right after she spilled the dogs' water bowl all over herself

Ready to go to work

The horse whips were a fun toy

Some Fall Favorites

Growing a pumpkin patch at home

inspection time

silly Daddy

peek a boo!

BOO

Touchdown Auburn!

Chillin with Mr Mason

I like this one Mommy

"Love my playdates with Thomas"

She put her hand in the pigs' water bowl - mmm

Let's take it home please

Today's Open Dialogue

Sometimes I pray for BIG things that I really don't expect to happen immediately, but are more long-range things that I want God to keep in his back pocket to later pull out with His perfect timing.

And then there are days that I feel like I pray every 15 minutes just to make it through the day. Its more like an open dialogue with God. Come on God - let's get over this hurdle today!

Red

Her favorite color is red.

Red is vibrant. It evokes passion, energy and and strength. It is not a color that likes to hide. Reds want to see and be seen.

For many years now red has been my favorite color. It gets me in trouble occasionally now that I live in Alabama; primarily because it is associated with a certain state school, which we do not cheer for. Nonetheless, I still love to wear red. It puts a smile on my face and a pep in my step.

Recently I discovered that red is LB's favorite color too. How, you might ask, does a 13 month old convey what her favorite color is? Simple. It is in her actions, not words.

Outside our back door sits an array of pots with all kinds of plants and flowers. We are sometimes the testers when Kyle wants to try out a new plant; other times we nurse plants back to health that aren't looking so good; but most of the time my hubby keeps me supplied with beautiful flowers that greet me as I get home each day. LB is beginning to love the flowers too. Primarily because she has learned that she can pick a petal and carry it around with her. Over the past few days I've been watching her and it dawned on me. She keeps going after the reds. And only reds. She will shimmy through and around the pots to get to the red geraniums. Skip past the pink to pick a red begonia. It is so obvious! Red is her favorite color.

Fall in Love with Fall

For four years of my life fall meant returning to school and returning to Virginia. Usually by the time September hit I was dying to see my friends, hangout, party and feel like there isn't a care in the world except for the classes I was taking.

Fall is met with just as much anticipation now, but the surrounding circumstances are different. There isn't as much hanging out and certainly not as much partying, but I covet my date nights with my hubby and that fulfills me much more than any frat party ever did. I do miss feeling more carefree, but I wouldn't relinquish my responsibilities for anything.

Fall is beautiful. I can ride with my windows down and breathe in the fresh, cool air; play with my little girl outside in the middle of the day and never break a sweat; spend hours talking about and watching football, loving every minute of Gameday; and slowly forget about the sweltering heat that seemed like it would never ease up.

There is just something special about this time of year. I can't quite put my finger on any one thing. But maybe it's the multitude of things that I look forward to that makes me fall in love with fall year after year.

Go outside and enjoy the cool breeze. You'll be glad you did.