MY WISH FOR YOU

HAPPY THANKSGIVING, EVERYONE!

MAY YOUR DAY BE BLESSED WITH GOOD FOOD, GOOD FRIENDS, CHERISHED FAMILY MEMBERS AND MEMORIES THAT WILL LAST A LIFETIME

AND NOW WE KNOW IT'S TRUE

Mother always said it would happen.

I didn't listen.

I was young.

I was carefree.

She would repeat it often.

Oh, how I wish I would have heeded her advice!

Because now it's too late.

It's already happened!

Mother always said if you keep making that face, it's going to freeze that way.

Today I woke up with a wrinkle in the middle of my forehead that can only come from spending way too much of my life with that "What the …….?" look on my face!

Now what do I do?

Do they have botox for this?

Hurry, people, I need help!

I NEED BAKING FOR DUMMIES

Awhile back, Midlife Slices posted a recipe for this:

photograph courtesy of Midlife Slices

A day or two later I received the same recipe from my cousin, QTPie. I'm a pretty good cook if I say so myself but baking is not my thing. It's the measuring. Well, that and the fact that I can't seem to follow directions exactly to save my soul. Nevertheless I was inspired by this very seasonal recipe and just had to give it a shot. Alas, even after several text messages burning up the airwaves between here and Texas, this is what I came up with:

I call it Blob-O-Bread

The fact that MLS could make something so beautiful and mine completely flopped just p*ssed me off good. I couldn't stand it. I drove to the store and bought more ingredients and new pans. (I'm pretty sure the failure was all because of the pans because I'm sure it wasn't anything that I did.

This is the result of my second attempt:

It was still a little gooey in the middle but came out much better. If you attempt this recipe, it's a very tricky making sure that it's done. The cheesecake filling is supposed to be gooey so it's hard to test with a toothpick. I have no advice but wish you better luck than I had. The best part was that both the Blob-O-Bread and the pretty ones were delicious.

And I felt so much better when MLS posted this picture a few days later:

(Does that make me a bad person?)

THE MAKING OF A BIKER CHICK - The Badlands

I kind of left you hanging with Part I of this story. I was in the middle of having a heat stroke, threatening to shoot my husband and trying to put the thought processes together in my sun-fried brain that would enable me to find the nearest airport P.D.Q. Fortunately for all concerned it got much better from there. We rode into the Badlands on a wing and a prayer. I can't speak for the others but the prayer playing in my head was, "Please, God, make me a bird so I can fly far, far away!"

We didn't have a real itinerary or reservations for any over-night stay. Our plan was to ride like the wind and be free like birds. By the seat of our pants, if you will. We rode into a campground near the Badlands which rented cabins sometime late that same afternoon. They had no vacancy. I was trying hard not to panic. I quickly went from the free spirit, biker chick that I was trying to be to the actual mid-life pampered princess that I really am. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. Free bird, schmee bird! I mean, planning is a critical part of any vacation, right?

The people at the campground were kind enough to recommend a nearby motel that included a cafe that was famous around them there parts. What is it about the west that makes me think I should talk like I'm in an old western movie? So, anyway, we made a call and two rooms were available. We thanked our new pardners at the OK Corral and rode off into the sunset. OK, the sun wasn't really setting but you get the idea.

We arrived at the Circle 10 Motel having nothing on our minds other than cooling off in any way possible. The Circle 10 at first sight is nothing to get excited about but it was everything we needed and more. It was clean, it was cool, there was a pool and there is a little cafe there that was definitely a diamond in the rough. The motel is run by a very friendly couple. Mr. C10 runs the motel and Mrs. C10 runs the cafe. We arrived there late afternoon. Upon check-in, Mr. C10 told us about the cafe. We barely listened as we were obscessed with cooling off our over-heated body parts.

We hit the pool immediately after unloading our STUFF into the rooms. Once we had a chance to cool off, our brains started working again. Mr. C10 walked through the pool area and we asked about the dinner menu? He said he didn't know if Mrs. C10 had decided yet. What? It was after 4pm and the cafe would be opening soon. It was hard to have any great expectations about the meal awaiting us but we were seriously in the middle of nowhere and didn't possess the energy to go foraging for food.

I'm so glad we stayed. I don't know how she did it. When you think that at 4pm there was no plan and at 6pm we were offered very impressive choices in a simply charming setting. I'm sorry to say that I didn't write it down (I wish I had been blogging then) and can't remember exactly now what the choices were. *sigh* I do however remember that I had a crisp salad and tilapia with rice sauted in a delicious lemon butter sauce. And.there.was.beer!

After dinner, we changed into some light riding gear sans helmets and took a short drive into the Badlands. It is quite breath-taking. I'm sure my pictures will not do it justice but here are a sampling of shots that I took along the way that evening and the next morning. Some are taken from the bike as we are crusing.

That's My Harley Stud's helmet in the lower left corner. He's always sticking his head in the way!

MHS and the Biker Nazi love to take pictures of their bikes. Personally I like people in my photographs. ...Men..?

The Saint standing dangerously close to the edge.

If you are interested in learning more about the Badlands and how they were formed, click here.

The trip got even better after this. Stay tuned for the next episode where we visit Mount Rushmore.

I WANT TO BE LIKE DYSIE

Goodfather of Goodfather Blog asked a question the other day. Faced with the possibility of losing his job in a failing economy and seeing it as an opportunity to reinvent himself, he asked, "Are you doing what you want? If you could choose anything for a job, what would it be?" I commented with lightning speed as I usually do without giving it much thought but the question has haunted me. It comes in the middle of the night. It whispers in my ear while I'm driving down the turnpike. I'm being haunted by the Goodfather Ghost.

I have a great job. I am blessed with an employer that appreciates me and my abilities. I would be a fool if I didn't see that alone as the gift that it is. I would be an even bigger fool to even consider a voluntary career change while we are experiencing this temporary economic slump. (I am nothing if not a cockeyed optimist.) But still the question is begging to be answered properly. When I was younger, I always thought that I wanted to be a teacher. Fortunately for me and my would-be students I realized early on that I really only like good kids. Don't get me wrong, I love mischievous kids. I love the stinkers. Who I can't tolerate are the disrespectful, smart mouth (imagine that) kids that are so prevalent in today's schools. I don't know but I'm pretty sure you have to teach them all, not just the good ones. I am proud to say that my oldest daughter is a teacher and my youngest is currently majoring in elementary education. They are both better women than I will ever be.

I took an English elective in high school called Write On. Each day we were instructed to write an essay. Almost everyone who took the class became frustrated with writing an essay every single day. Not me, I loved it. The thought of pursuing writing as a career never occurred to me. I didn't go to college. I got my MRS. Degree right out of high school. I didn't take the opportunity to explore my options. Not that it matters much as I don't think I possess the talent of a true writer. But the bug persists.

Once I had kids, I was always telling them that I was going to write a book. Whenever some silly moment would present itself, D2 would often comment jokingly, "I bet she's going to put this in her book." I have the outline for a children's book completed. The book itself will probably go to the grave with me. I am always scouting locations for writing. I found the perfect location on our trip out west. We came upon one of the most serene, breath taking places on the planet and stopped for pictures and a rest for the buttocks. The thought popped into my head to send the others on their way and I could just stay there in that lovely spot on a blanket of soft cushy grass instead of a brick that posed as a motorcycle seat and write my long awaited book. Of course I didn't even mention this to anyone else because no one ever takes me seriously when I talk about writing including myself.

Now remember that Goodfather's question didn't include anything about qualifications. He simply asked, what would I do if I could do anything I wanted. I guess my answer would have to be that I want to write. I can't believe I just said that out loud! Or… umm… in print?

So a writer I will be. The following is a list of ways I can feed my passion while not giving up my day job:

• I've become a blogger. What? You hadn't heard? Oh yeah, I'm big into blogging. And I have followers. Ten, I think. I'm not sure what that means though. I keep looking over my shoulder and I never see them.
  
• I can write complaint letters to companies whose customer service is less than satisfactory.
  
• I can continue my daily email war with Nole Boy while coming up with new and better ways to entertain, amaze, WOW and frustrate him with my musical preferences.
  
• And last (seriously, last) but not least, I can write my own obituary. HUH? I came across this delightful obituary in the Palm Beach Post. (I don't read the obits, I get feeds in my Google reader) I want to be like Dysie. I never knew this woman but I want to be like her. (And it wouldn't suck to have her money either) Without further ado, I give you, Dysie…..***drumroll, please***
  

Palm Beach Daily News

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Dysie Davie, a longtime Palm Beach resident, died Saturday, leaving behind a fabulous obituary that she wrote herself. We couldn't imagine doing a better job for her than she did for herself.

Here it is, in its entirety, unedited.

"Diana Marion Wing Davie, 'Dysie,' passed away at her home in Palm Beach on November 15. Mrs. Davie was born in New York City, New York, and the date is no one's damn business. Dysie survived all four husbands, namely to wit: John Kress "Jake" Williams, "Hot Dog" Chandore, Craig Mitchell, and last, but not least, E.T. Bedford "Buddy" Davie. Dysie credits this to lots of partying, full-bodied wines, expensive vodka, and dealing with everyday life and people, no matter what you are dealt.

"Dysie and her last husband, Buddy, of 44 years (the longest lasting of all four marriages) owned and managed '343' on Worth Avenue, an exquisite custom jewelry and objects d'art emporium. Mrs. Davie, responsible for all custom jewelry designs, was never given full recognition due to Buddy always taking credit for her ideas. Mrs. Davie was a member of the Sailfish Club, the B&T, and the Everglades Club in Palm Beach. Dysie will be well-remembered for her engaging sense of humor, her gracious generosity, and her fabulous luncheons at the Sailfish Club and dinner parties at home for her many friends. Kassatly's Inc. thanks her mostly for her generosity.

"She is survived by her son, Stuart Wing Williams, his wife Jill, and their entire brood; stepchildren E.T. Bedford Davie Jr. and Deidre Davie Quonbeck, their spouses, children, grandchildren, and whatever doodley dums are out there.

"Mrs. Davie will be interred in the family plot in Willowbrook Cemetery in Westport, Conn., across the street from her beloved Buddy, as a plot next to him was not made available. Donations to be made to Dysie's household staff, namely; Helen Grenier, house manager extraordinaire; Diane Kirkham, daily shopping companion; Nancy Roach, Peggy Kelly and Suzanne Beck, outstanding nursing team; and Brenda Woodward, weekly party organizer."

Wasn't she FABULOUS!

***Note***

I hope that I won't get in trouble for copying this from the newspaper into my blog. If this is a problem, let me know quick so I can pull it. Do you think they would let me bring my laptop to jail?