Lets Hash It Over!

Lets hash it over, Christmas-dinner-leftover hash, that is. On the morning after Christmas, watching The Today Show, with coffee in hand, I saw a chef making roast beef hash. The beef was left over from his Christmas dinner as were the roasted potatoes. It looked good. I jotted down the recipe.

I have never had hash in my life. My family didn't eat it, I have never ordered it or prepared it. I have never given much thought to hash. Still..... I thought, what a good way to use up leftovers.

I didn't have a roast beef, but I did have a steak in the fridge, some roasted potatoes, mushrooms, onion, bell pepper and wine. Maybe the steak would work. So I cut the steak in bite-sized pieces and sauteed in olive oil. The onions, peppers and mushrooms were sauteed also and combined with the steak. Everything was steamed until tender. Then, because the chef on TV had used it, I stirred in 2 large tablespoons full of sour cream and about 1/3 cup of white wine and salt and pepper. It smelled wonderful.

I was not sure if this hash was "hashy" enough and then remembered that one of the the key ingredients was the roasted potatoes but then thought how mushy they would be if I put them directly into the meat/sauce mixture. The chef had, but he was using stringy roast beef and I was not. So, I spooned the meat/vegie/ sauce over the hot roasted potatoes and served it to my husband. I waited for his response. He thought it was really good.

My husband grew up eating hash. His mother prepared it often. Roast beef, lots of potatoes and onions but he liked this version. I thought the meat/vegie/sauce would be better over noodles or rice, skipping the potatoes altogether, but that would make it sort of Stroganoff-ish.

I looked up hash in some cookbooks and found out that most people make hash for breakfast with baked eggs. There is ham and cheese hash, turkey or chicken hash, corned beef hash, pork hash or heavenly hash (which is something completely different.) The ingredient they all have in common, except for the heavenly hash, is potatoes. That is the part I would skip.

So, if I ever make hash again, and it is a great way to use up leftovers, I would make a Hashganoff. Half hash and half Stroganoff. Yum.

Two Little Boys

Two little boys came to our house today. Henry, age 2, rushed in like a whirlwind and into his Grandpa's arms and heart. He is a cutie, soft spoken and very busy. He stripped off his shoes and socks and headed for the spiral staircase, causing all the adults to worry a little bit. Adventure was what he was after and he was off to explore.

Baby brother, Adam, age 7 months was watching every move Henry made. A whirlwind in training, Adam cooed and giggled his way into our hearts. Grandpa played peekaboo and got wet from Adam's kisses.

Henry, his dad and Grandpa went to see the cows after lunch. A farmer in the making, Henry made the mandatory MOOOOO sounds and saw Grandpa put out the grain and hay. It was cold but Henry explored the automatic water feeders and saw how very large those moo cows are.

Back in the house, Adam was fed, changed and, with Binky firmly planted in his little mouth, looked with fascination at the lights on the Christmas tree. Awe and wonder, curiosity and happiness all glowed in Adam's eyes. His first Christmas, what a wondrous thing!

Two little boys headed home, all bundled up against the December cold. Their parents were loaded down with diaper bags, toys, snacks and sippy cups. Grandpa was all worn out and headed for his chair for a nap. It was a very good visit.

Cranberry and Apple Casserole

Here is another wonderful, quick holiday recipe. I am trying to remember where I got it last year. Maybe it will come to me around 2 am in a dream! Very sweet and could even be used as a dessert. Enjoy!

Cranberry and Apple Casserole

4 cups diced apples
1 pound whole raw cranberries
1+1/2 cups sugar

Mix and place in an ungreased casserole dish or square pan.

Combine:
1 +1/2 cups uncooked oats
1/2 cup brown sugar
1 stick melted butter
1/2 cup chopped nuts (I use pecans)

Spread over cranberry and apple mixture and bake @ 350 for 1 hour.

Sara Mason's Dessert Pumpkin Bread

This is a good breakfast, brunch, dessert or with coffee bread. My late mother-in-law, Sara Mason baked this at the holidays for gift giving. It smells really good while baking.

Sara Mason's Dessert Pumpkin Bread

3 Cups sugar
4 eggs
1 Cup vegetable oil
2 Cups canned or fresh pureed pumpkin
3+ 1/2 Cups flour, unsifted
2 teaspoons baking soda
1+1/2 teaspoons salt
1+1/2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 teaspoon nutmeg
2/3 Cup water
1 Cup chopped pecans
1 Cup raisins.

Mix sugar, eggs, oil and pumpkin. Combine flour, soda, salt, cinnamon and nutmeg. Add dry ingredients alternating this with the water. Fold in pecans and raisins. Pour into 4 greased 1 pound coffee cans (half full.) (* note: I use loaf pans.) Bake about 1 hour at 350 degrees. Test with a toothpick. When done, let cool for 5 minutes then shake bread out of cans. Can be frozen.

"It Looks a Little Naked!"

Now y'all don't get excited! I said "It looks a little naked" when I looked at my undecorated Christmas Tree. I know what you people thought.... but this is all about Christmas decorating.

Our tree is 12 feet tall and huge. It is a "faux" tree and comes in 4 parts. It is pre-lite, thank goodness, and is stored in a big box in the garage. My husband had pacemaker surgery a month ago and is not supposed to lift more than 10 lbs with his left arm. That meant, I was on my own. Now, I have to explain that as a floral designer, in a former life, I decorated Christmas trees sometimes 8 hours a day... for years! But... now, I am 64 years old. Need I say more? It is hard work, especially with a 12 foot, very heavy tree. Besides, I want to do it myself, no husbands allowed. Selfish? Maybe, but I am very fussy about my Christmas tree.

So, it took hours to bring each piece in, assemble the stand and tree parts, and fluff it. I was taught to "touch" every single tip of every branch. Make it look real and full. That is what "fluffing" means. It takes time but is worth it.

Our house is a cedar home with lots of wood and stone. There is a vaulted 26 foot ceiling in the living room, which requires a tall Christmas tree. The house is decorated in a western style with modern furniture, leather and even long horns over the door. The Christmas tree is "woodsy" with one hundred red and gold balls, red bird houses, bird nests with cardinals (the Virginia state bird) and pine cones hung with red ribbon. I spiral pine garland and berries all around the tree and put a woodland rustic-looking Santa on the top. Red glass bead garland goes on last. When I put on the garland, I do it in a "messy" way. It is not perfect. It dips up and down, crossing the garland above. The tree takes two days, considering my many coffee and computer breaks.

I love Christmas decorating. Candles are everywhere and Santas sit or stand among brightly colored packages. Red throws and Christmas plaid pillows make the sofa comfy and with a warm fire in the fireplace and a cup of cocoa, who would want to be anywhere else?

The First Snow Day

I went to Martinsville today for a little shopping at several open houses downtown. My first stop was Studio 107 on Church Street where I chatted with Mary Powell, watercolor artist. She was demonstrating her painting technique while two dulcimer musicians played somewhere in the back of the studio. I followed the sound and, of course, the smell of refreshments and found the source of the music which added to the festive atmosphere. All over the studio were lovely handcrafted quilts, jewelry, handbags and Christmas ornaments. Carolyn sort of "runs the show" and everyone is always so nice there.

My second stop was a great consignment shop also on Church Street called Consignment Corner. I am not a stranger to this shop and love to poke around to see what is new. In the past I have found many blue and white china treasures to expand my already huge collection. Today I hunted Christmas items and was delighted with the tin Santa advertisement and two new (with the tags on) red and white sets of pot holders, apron and mitts that I can use for gifts. Then I spied the treasure of the day, a set of 8 clear glass cup and saucers to use for cider. The prices are incredible! I read somewhere that being frugal is the new "chic." Stop in and talk to Dave and Becky, the owners. They are friendly and knowledgeable. They offer furniture, antiques, books, quilts, pictures, lamps, dishes.......on and on and on.

On to The Southern Virginia Artisan Center for a look at some gorgeous hand crafted art items. I saw my friend, Iris Gillispie's photography there, interesting jewelry, pottery, painted gourds, paintings, bookmarks and even a handmade turkey call box. You name it, they have it. Even Santa Claus showed up! The visitors center is also in the same building.

My last stop was Martha's Baskets, Gifts and More on Ellsworth Street where I started a little pile of merchandise to purchase. I bought the cutest little round soaps that look like peppermint candy. Martha's has great gourmet items such as Wind Willow cheese ball/dip mixes, wine, Virginia peanuts, crackers, preserves, Nancy's fudge and mulling spices. A wonderful tasting honey mustard was there for tasting. And I did! For you Paula Deen lovers, her products are for sale at Marthas.

While at Marthas, I spoke to artist Susie Pool who works with fused glass. The plates with reindeer on them were darling. OMG! I need to go back and get one for my Reindeer Chow, why didn't I think of that? Anyway, Susie gives classes upstairs, but you can purchase her ornaments, sun catchers and all kinds of beautiful glass.

As I left my last stop, it started to snow. The first snow of the season! As I approached my car, my hair and red coat were covered with white snowflakes. It was such a happy feeling to be standing in the snow, the cold nipping at my already pink nose and feeling really happy, which is something I have not felt very often since my mother died last September. Life is good even though bad things happen sometimes. I pulled my coat a little tighter and hurried to my car.

As we approach the Christmas holiday, please let us all remember people in nursing homes, shut-ins and those who are, through no fault of their own, having a difficult time making ends meet. It is fun to run around, shopping and enjoying the Christmas rush but there are some of our neighbors who won't have a happy Christmas this year. If we have a little extra to give, let us give it.

A little Christmas Cheer- GSO Style

The Christmas party was a huge success! Wonderful friends, food and gifts! Here is a picture of the GSO Girls singing you a Christmas carol.

We wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year!

The GSO Girl's Christmas Party

Well, the diet isn't going very well. I do realize that the holidays aren't the best time to diet. I have shed one pound, which is pretty good considering all the Thanksgiving food I managed to consume. I am trying to do well because.......

It is Dec. 1st with 24 days left until Christmas. In a few days I will go to a party in Greensboro with a group of women I worked with years ago. I call us the "Greensboro Girls" although none of us could ever qualify as "girls" again and only one of the six lives in Greensboro.

What a diverse group of women we are.

There is Helen, originally from Holland. I talked about her in the post called "Some Girl Talk." She is a gourmet cook. She has things like truffle oil in her kitchen! I am so impressed! Helen cooks everything from scratch and doesn't bat an eye. She has her own business, works full time, entertains, takes care of her grandchildren, and scrapbooks. She is amazing.

Becky may be the oldest, but she is the youngest in spirit. She is also amazing! Works rings around people half her age, is always doing or cooking something for someone, in fact, I'll bet she has fried a ton of chicken in her life. Does her own yard work too. She is little but mighty. Becky always brings dessert. What a great baker she is, although she always complains that we fill up on the meal and won't eat dessert, so.... we are eating heavy hors d'oeuvres and LOTS of dessert.

My diet will suffer and so will my thighs!

Marie has recently moved from a lovely, large house to a smaller, easier to manage beautiful home. Downsizing has enabled her to expand her social life. She is in a retirement community that anyone of any age would love. Swimming pools, bridge games, dining rooms and on and on. Lots of fun things to do. She loves it. One of Marie's special dishes is sweet potato souffle- to die for!

Janet is a tiny little lady but feisty as can be. She is sort of the glue that holds this group together. She has objected to being the "plan maker" of the group but continues to do it because we think she should. She is a steadfast friend, one of those people who are always there for you, no matter what the circumstance. Janet is the center of her family also. There isn't anything she wouldn't do for a friend or family and she makes a heck of a shrimp mold.

Tricia is a whirl wind with red hair. She is always on the go, sings in the choir at church, loves to decorate for every holiday and event. She makes the best french onion soup and pimento cheese ever, but it is her decorating skills which delights us. We are always blown over by Tricia's style. She is the hostess with the mostess!

I live in another state- but close enough that I can travel once in awhile to see everyone. I miss not being close enough to go out to lunch or go shopping at the drop of a hat but I manage to see the girls several times a year, especially our annual Christmas party. The girls gave me a lovely bridal luncheon at a tea room before I married Andy four years ago. We had tea, scones and wonderful little finger sandwiches. Then I moved away, but not too far and.... there is always the phone!

We have been through a lot together, this band of sisters. Whether it be births, marriages, deaths or illness, we are there for one another. The good, the bad and the ugly hair days, we were there.

We have taken some memorable trips over the years. The North Carolina beaches have felt our presence many times. We have danced the chicken dance (with the help of a margarita or two) in Myrtle Beach and not everyone can say that! We have boiled and eaten pounds and pounds of shrimp. The hours spent playing Taboo and spoons are legendary. We also got kicked out of the parking lot of our hotel in Myrtle Beach after singing our theme song (Friends by John Denver) and I guess we got a little loud. But.... the acoustics were really good in that parking garage. We were leaving anyway. We do have our little coffee arguments though.... two of us like coffee as thick as mud.... that would NOT be me. And.... some of us snore... but, I won't go there.

One trip to Abbingdon, VA was lots of fun. Janet drove her big van. We stopped at every gift store, boutique, festival and pottery along the way. Tricia was decorating a new house and needed lamps, among other accessories, and found two beauties at one shop. We loaded the car and all climbed back on board and someone started laughing. We all turned around to the third seat in the van. There sat little Becky with packages piled all around her, under her feet and a lampshade on her head. The car was loaded to the gills. We saw the play Oklahoma at the Barter Theatre (Marie slept through the whole thing) and ate dinner at The Martha Washington Inn. There is a live-in (sort of) ghost there and I want to go back, spend a night and see it. Tricia does too. The rest are chicken.

So, at our annual Christmas party this week, we will all bring food, dessert and wine. We will play the dirty Santa game, and will actually grab the best gift if necessary- dirty is the name of the game, right? We will catch up with each others lives, family, challenges, good and bad times. It is a relaxing time with old friends, a tradition; with good food and, most of all, sisterly love.

Cow College

My daughter-in-law was visiting last weekend and was fascinated by our black angus cows. She asked if they had their own personalities and I said "Yes, absolutely!" I have studied them, in fact, and have found that they are most interesting creatures and that some traits are quite human.

I recall several years ago when our first calf was born. I named her April because that was when she was born: in April. I discovered the second year that naming the cows was probably not a good idea. They come and go.... I was hoping they would COME and not go. That wasn't very realistic. Anyway, April was only a month old and Andy and I were sort of sitting in the middle of the herd, watching them when suddenly, they all started running. Something spooked them, we didn't see or hear anything, but they panicked and took off with tiny April in tow. I was sure the cows and huge bull would trample her, but when the dust cleared and we moved closer to them we saw an amazing sight. They adult cows had circled April like a wagon train would have before battle. They were going to protect their newest member of the family. I thought that was just wonderful.

We had a female who couldn't get pregnant. We kept her for over a year, hoping she and the bull (his name is Bucky) would fall in love and produce a little one. They didn't and she began to be aggressive with us. We would call them to follow us when we moved them from one pasture to another and we always gave them sweet feed at the end of this adventure. This female started to run next to us and kick up her back legs trying to kick the golf cart or us. She did this repeatedly until Andy punched her in the nose and she would calm down a bit. After several punched noses, she was broken of her habit, but she had to go to market eventually due to indifference to our rather studly bull.

"Grandma" is an older cow. She has produced several nice calves for us and we are not sure how old she was when we bought her. We think that several years were shaved off of her papers. But, she is a good old girl and a wonderful babysitter for the babies. Grandma will stay with all the little ones, like a nanny while the mamas and daddy graze and wander around. She is starting to limp a little and walk slower than the rest, but for the time being, we will keep her because she has such a big heart.

The babies, I call them, or calves are so much fun to watch. They actually "frolic" during the first few months. They "hang" together and even get in trouble together. Two of them used to wriggle under one area of fence and go roam around on someone Else's property. Then when their mama yelled at them, they would try to crawl back, but couldn't figure out the way to do it. They would cry, I would cry and Andy would have to run them back through a gate.

Bucky Bull is a gentle giant. He is a little bit skittish when we are around, but has never, ever tried to charge or well, BULLY us. He is a good looking guy too, worthy of any ladies' admiration. I have a healthy respect for Bucky Bull and never turn my back on him. Just saying!

Andy and I went to Cow College for a day a couple of years ago. It was a class toward certification in quality assurance. There were tests and demos, hands on work and at the end of the day, Andy had graduated but I had not. We had to give immunization injections, which he had done a million times. I hate needles and so I failed at shot-giving. Andy graduated from Cow College. I am happy with being the assistant to the professor.

Andy had a pacemaker installed a couple of weeks ago and cannot lift more than the weight of a gallon of milk for 6 more weeks. Now that it is getting winter, the grass is not growing- obviously. So, we must put out huge hay bails for the cows. We also give the calves small square bales of good hay that we cut ourselves. It is still green and they love it. Those bales are 40 - 50 pounds but are tied with twine and I can handle them very easily. The grain that we give them everyday comes in 50 pound bags. The bags are slippery and I have a hard time just gathering it up to put in the trough. I have been struggling with these bags ever since Andy's surgery. My son helped one day while here over Thanksgiving and got a little taste of farm life. Other than the cow pies in the field he did very well. They cow pies are everywhere and I told him that one time I went to help Andy with the cows but forgot to change my shoes. My motto quickly became: NEVER GO TO THE COW PASTURE IN SANDALS! New sandals at that.

So that is a little look into the personalities of our cows. We give them a very good home while they are with us and try not to think about their future too much. They have a good home, food, clean water and a very amorous and charming bull to keep them company. We think they are a happy bunch.

Tomorrow is Turkey Day! No dieting allowed!

Well, really, the diet hasn't been too bad so far. I have had so much to do to get ready for Thanksgiving that I haven't had a chance to sit down and think much about eating food. I have been preparing a lot of it, though.

I baked a chocolate cake with mousse between the layers and a chocolate glaze, two pumpkin pies, sweet potato casserole (topped with a pecan/brownsugar topping, it is as good as dessert.) Lets see.....the ham is baking right now.

Tomorrow I will roast the turkey breast, bake the dressing, rolls and broccoli casserole. Also on the table, of course, cranberrys! Andy will do his bit by making the gravy, which is much better than mine.

The table will be set, the turkey and ham carved, the buffet laden with goodies and the glasses filled.

Then, we will sit down with my son and his family from North Carolina, give thanks for our blessings and eat.

Where it has taken hours to prepare dinner, it will take only 15 minutes to fill our tummies so full we may pop!

The women will clean up and put away, while the men put their feet up and groan in front of the TV. My granddaughter will get right back on the computer.

I am grateful for our family, home and good food this Thanksgiving. I give thanks to God for all I have and my many blessings. I think about the people in this community who don't have a nice meal or a warm bed. I think about people out of work and down on their luck. It doesn't take much to lose your home these days. It doesn't take much to lose your security and future. This is the season to help our neighbors in whatever way we can.

Happy Thanksgiving y'all.

REINDEER CHOW GIFT TAG - FREE!!!!!!

I found the cutest little gift tag for my Reindeer Chow (recipe below) on a fun little site: www.organizedchristmas.com Check it out for instructions on Gifts and Crafts, including: gifts in a jar, Sew Simple Gifts and Stocking Stuffers. Also click on: Holiday Tips and Recipes! You can print out a darling little hang tag for your jar of Reindeer Chow. Just print it out, three tags to the page, cut out and fold over. There is a blank space inside to name the lucky recipient of your gift.

REINDEER CHOW

This is a wonderful little sweet snack. I was going to wait until before Christmas but my sister called and asked for the recipe so I thought I would get a jump on the season and post it for you. You can change the fabric for Thanksgiving. Hope you enjoy. If so, please leave a comment.





Reindeer Chow

2 cups brown sugar
1 cup real butter
1/2 cup light Karo syrup
1 tsp. soda


4 cups of Rice Chex cereal
4 cups of Corn Chex cereal
2 cups pretzels
2 cups mixed amounts of: Crispex and/or Cheerios cereals, nuts: Mixed, Almonds,
pecans, or salted peanuts


Bring sugar, butter and syrup to a boil for 1 + 1/2 minutes, stirring constantly, then add soda. Mixture will be foamy. While the sugar mixture is cooking: SPRAY WELL two large roasting or baking pans (9" X 13") with Pam. Divide cereal/nut/pretzel mixture between the two pans. Pour hot sugar mixture (divided into two parts) over the cereal mixture and stir until mixed together. Bake in a 300 degree oven for 30 minutes, stirring every 10-15 minutes. Let cool completely, an hour or two, then break into pieces and store in air tight plastic bags or jars.

TIP: Let the pans cool for 15 minutes and then lift the edges of mixture to prevent sticking to the pan as it hardens. Do this again in 15 minutes.

To decorate the jar: cut a round from seasonal fabric two inches larger than lid and secure with a rubber band. Tie ribbon around neck or jar and with a pretty bow. You can also make a cute label on the computer and tape to front of jar.

Some Girl Talk

I had an appointment in Winston-Salem recently and decided to stay in town for the day. After my appointment, I hit Macys and Dillards. An hour into my shopping spree, I called my sister in Wichita to ask her to lecture me about spending money but she wasn't there. I spent some more money and figured it was all my sisters fault for not being home.

I was meeting a good friend, Helen, at her home in Asheboro at 4:00. Armed with a good bottle of wine and some appetizers, I drove to her house. The day was balmy, in spite of the trees being in full color. I just love these fall days and the yellow and red fallen leaves rushing toward the windshield.

I hadn't seen Helen since before my mother passed away and, honestly, I was looking forward to a long talk. She is a good listener and I needed one. She is that kind of person, a friend as well as a confidant.

She greeted me with a "Purple Hooter" which is a wonderful drink made with vodka, raspberry liqueur and cranberry juice. We brought out the crackers, brie and artichoke spread and started talking. We played catch up for awhile and the subject of my mother's death quickly came up. I talked non-stop for quite awhile. Helen listened. I needed to vent. It was great to let it out. The conversation turned to friends, family, politics and vacations. We even decided to go to Portland together next spring.

Helen fixed dinner which was a tasty salad of baby spinach, boiled eggs, croutons and a homemade garlic and herb salad with a butternut squash/ carrot/ sweet potato soup that is out of this world. It was so good that I came home and made it for my husband the next night. The soup recipe will follow this post. Enjoy!

Sometime during dinner, Helen remarked that we had been talking non-stop for hours. I agreed and said "we have also been eating non-stop for hours!" It was a relaxing evening and as I left her house I thought what a lucky woman I am to have such good friends.



Butternut Squash Soup:


1 Butternut squash, peeled and cut into cubes

3 Sweet potatoes, peeled and cut into cubes

4 Large carrots or a small bag of baby carrots, cut into small slices

1 + 1/2 boxes of chicken stock

1/2 Cup of half and half



Roast vegies in a large roasting pan, drizzled with olive oil and salt and pepper, until tender and soft but not brown. In a large pot, add a box of chicken stock and all the vegies and simmer about an hour. When done, puree vegies and liquid and add the other 1/2 cup of stock a little at a time to the desired consistency. Add the half cup of half and half. You really don't need any more salt and pepper than what was cooked with the vegies unless desired. The soup should be a little sweet.



PS. This is one of the best creamed soups I have ever eaten! Serve with a salad and crusty roll and you have a great meal. It is the ultimate winter comfort food! Thanks Helen.

This was Colleen (AKA: Lucy) at age 19 or 20.

I love Lucy

Lucy was not her real name but it was a nickname given to her over the years by her three children. "Lucy" was my mother: Colleen Gfeller who just passed away Sept. 20th of this year. She had COPD and was slowly slipping away for a long time. She was my best friend for 64 years and when people ask why I haven't posted on my blog since July, I tell them that my heart just hasn't been in writing. Now, I want to write about my mother.

Mother was a beautiful looking young woman, popular and, according to her, had the best childhood anyone could have. She was right because my beloved grandparents would have made it perfect for her. My brother, sister and I received that love also. Mother always made the hurt knee better, the broken heart heal and smeared enough Vicks Vap-O-Rub on our chests that we should never have a cold again.

We called her Lucy because she reminded us of Lucille Ball's character on the TV show "I Love Lucy." She was funny, a little naive and loved to laugh. Mother never met a stranger and we used to kid her about meeting a new best friend over the lettuce in the produce dept. of the grocery store. One story my brother tells is this:

I have already said that Mother was a beautiful woman and because she worked outside the home in the 1950s and 60s, she dressed to the nines. She was a busy working mother and stopped at the grocery store with my brother on the way home one day. Back then, if you wrote a check at the store, it had to be approved at the customer service desk. She was waiting in line and the man in front of her asked the clerk for a postage stamp. The clerk said " I am sorry, I am sold out of stamps." Mother pulled one out of her purse and sold it to the man. She did her business at the desk and was about to leave and another person came up asking for stamps. Again the clerk explained that he was sold out of stamps and mother said "I will sell you a stamp." As she was leaving, still another man walked up and said "I would like to buy a postage stamp" and was told the store was sold out of stamps. Mother looked at the customer and said "I'm sorry, I am sold out too!" She turned and walked away leaving the man bewildered. He had no idea what this lovely lady was talking about.

I went to my mother a million times over the years for a shoulder to cry on, a smile, or asked for advise. She would give me that advise but never unless I asked for it first. I always knew that she would love me unconditionally forever. And she did. She loved all three of her children with all of her heart. Over the last few months my brother and I made several trips home because we knew she didn't have much longer to live. Every time we were there with our sister, Mother would tell us that she had the best children in the world. Her grandchildren and great grands were a delight to her.

She also loved her husband, our step-father. They had 36 years together and enjoyed traveling, camping, playing cards, and just laughing and being together. They shared marriages, deaths, births and all those family events that create a bond. She loved the times when the entire family was together, even though we are scattered across the country.

The last 18 hours of her life, we were all there with her and, except for a few minutes, didn't leave her side. She slipped into a coma but we still talked to her, held her hand and told her that Jesus was waiting for her. We laughed and cried and I think she could hear us. We knew she didn't have much longer to be with us and we wanted her to know that it was OK to leave us. We would be fine. We were there that precious moment she passed away.

She died well. She died with dignity and courage and when she left us it was like a jig saw puzzle with a missing piece. The picture that the puzzle creates will never be whole. There will always be a missing piece of my heart. She was such an important person in my life. She was a rock for her family and many friends.

Mother took tap dance classes as a child and she used to entertain us with a little nautical dance called the Sailors Hornpipe. She danced that little jig even up into her 70s. We loved watching her dance. She had a deep Christian faith and died peacefully last month. When I think of Mother, with God, I can almost see her dancing the Sailors Hornpipe across heaven.

So Easy Cherry cobbler

This is an easy, easy cherry cobbler. You can use canned cherries from the store, or fresh from the tree, like the one shown in the picture. I used fresh tart cherries which had been sweetened. I doubled the recipe and added a 1/4 C. cherry juice while reducing the milk by 1/4 C. Serve with vanilla ice cream and enjoy! The cobbler pictured in going to a family reunion.

So Easy Cherry Cobbler

1 Cup self-rising flour

1 Cup sugar

1 stick butter

1 Cup milk

1 Can fruit cherries (or peaches)

In an 8 X 8 baking dish, melt the stick of butter in an oven heated to 350 degrees. Mix flour and sugar, add milk gradually. Pour flour/sugar/milk mixture over the melted butter. Spread fruit on top. Sprinkle with sugar.

Bake at 350 degrees until brown or until a knife inserted in the center of cobbler comes out clean, about 30 minutes.

At a recent writers group meeting we were asked to write a short story called "My Most Outrageous Hairdo" and this is how that true story goes:

The Girl with the Green Hair

I was born a blond, but over time, my hair started turning dark. When I was 13, it was a drab shade of "dirty blond." So, with the help of a friend I bleached my hair. Obviously, we didn't know what we were doing because my hair turned an alarming shade of green.

I knew my mother would have a fit over my new color and planned to try to fix it while hiding out from her. Maybe my childish little brain thought she would not notice. But she did notice and when the yelling and crying tapered off, she said, "Lynn, get your coat, we are going to the drug store."

Later, searching the Miss Clairol aisle in a frantic attempt to find "something" to cover up the green color, we heard "Well, hello there!" It was my mother's friend from bridge club. Mother stepped in front of me and I heard her say that she was in a big hurry, "How nice to see you, but I have to run." She grabbed a box from the shelf and herded me away from the woman as quickly as she could.

Looking back, I guess Mother was really embarrassed. Who could blame her? There I was, her skinny, pale child wearing a winter white car coat with a white fur collar. The fad in 1959 was to wear pale, almost white lipstick, and who was I if not stylish! But the icing on the cake was that green-glow-in-the-dark hair. Mother said I looked like a GHOUL!

My family still tells that story on me when we are all together. AND..... Mother still says the same thing, "You looked just like a GHOUL!" And I guess I did.

Lets talk Tomatoes !

Ah Summer! One of the joys of summer HAS to be big, fat, juicy RED homegrown tomatoes. A sandwich with sliced tomatoes, salt and pepper and Dukes mayonnaise on white bread equals PURE HEAVEN.

Last summer I tried to clone a wonderful salad, I ate in Alabama, with Brandywine Heirloom tomatoes. It goes something like this:

Summer Tomato Salad

Grill 2 corn on the cobs until slightly brown. Cut off cob and put in a large bowl. Cut any kind of red tomatoes, cucumbers and celery into chunks and add to corn. Slice red or sweet yellow onion and add to mixture. Toss with Italian dressing and a little salt and pepper. For a one dish supper salad, add cubed mozzerella cheese and cubed baked ham. Awesome!

My future cookbook, which I should be working on right now, will have many, many tomato recipes, including: Tomato Preserves, Green Tomato Pickles and Green Tomato Relish. The one I am giving you today, Dear Readers, is a good one so go to the garden, pick some green tomatoes and make some yummy stuff!

Green Tomato Salsa

4 Cups green tomatoes, chopped
2 Cups sweet red peppers, seeded and chopped
1 Cup jalapenos, seeded and chopped
1 Cup onion, chopped
2 t. salt
1 1/2 Cup cider vinegar
3 cloves garlic, crushed

Put all chopped ingredients in a large saucepan. Bring to boil. Stir constantly. Reduce heat and simmer 10 minutes. Pour hot Salsa in hot, sterile pint canning jars. Seal lids and water bath for 30 minutes. Remove and adjust lids.
Yield: 5 pints

A Case of Mistaken Identity

A couple from Alabama visited us recently. They are city folks and are not used to seeing cows up close and personal. They were fascinated by the herd and since they were leaving the next morning, we all made one last trip to the pasture to "count cows." We wanted to make sure they were all there and doing well when we came up short. It seemed that two were missing, a mama and young calf.

After some searching, we saw Mama in the distance, with a calf at her feet. They were separated from the rest of the herd and we drove closer to make sure they were OK. The calf was very still, not moving and we feared that it was sick or worse. As we got off the golf cart and moved closer, it still did not move. I was close to tears as my husband touched it and patted it softly. All at once it got to its feet, wobbled close to Mama as they hurried away.


We were relieved but confused a little about why they were away from the herd and if, indeed, the little one was ill. Our "city cousin" from Alabama suddenly said "Well, who is THAT baby?" We all turned and saw the month old calf with his mama in the middle of the herd. Turning back to the other calf, we realized that that was a new born baby we had stumbled upon. We had mistaken the brand new baby for a month old calf. "You two need to go back to Cow College!" They said, and we did feel silly for not recognizing the cow who had given birth just hours before.


When we got back to our house, I phoned my mother. It was her birthday and I called her to tell her we had a special birthday surprise.


"You have a new Grandcow born on your birthday, Mother." I said.


She was delighted and when I asked her if we could name the calf after her she said "I would be honored." So, we have two new calves a month apart. One little male named "Jr." and a new little female we named "Colleen."


P.S. I know that you are probably thinking that we are silly about our cows.


and........ WE ARE!!!!

There is a New Kid on the Block

This is the announcement of our new baby calf, born April 27. He is cute as can be (see picture) and we are happy to report that both mom and baby are healthy and doing well. They are registered at Tractor Supply for those of you who would like to send a baby gift.

My husband and I do treat our Black Angus cows well. We go visit them almost every evening. The smell of manure wafts over the pasture, especially on a hot, humid day. I have learned not to wear sandals in the pasture. I did, quite accidentally, one day. It was not a pretty sight. Those sandals were new too!

I sometimes sing to the cows and they seem to like it. No one else would and maybe it is because my voice sounds like a loud MOO that the cows seem to like my songs. They like the songs "Mooooon River" and "Harvest Mooooon." And they really seem to like gospel music, which makes the expression "Holy Cow" seem appropriate.

Review of the "Review"

Vol 1, Issue 1 of The Cat Head Biscuit Review, a Literary Journal from the South arrived yesterday. I pulled it out of my mailbox and flew into the house, put on my glasses and poured over every word. I have been anxiously awaiting a peek at this new publication with the cute name.

Peppered with short stories, interviews, poetry and original artwork, T.C.H.B.R. is real tasty. I savored each yummy morsel! Talented writers from Mississippi, Georgia and the far away land of Wisconsin butter up delicious titles, such as "Demon Crossing" and "A Routine Patient," and serve them up HOT!

To Editor Mike and staff, "YOU DID GOOD!"

And.... I love, love, love my Cat Head Biscuit Review tee shirt! I will be ordering the tote bag soon and hope you offer coffee mugs in the future.

Dear Readers: Y'all go to http://www.thecatheadbiscuitreview.com/

and PLEASE.... Pass the biscuits!

Mimi's Plum Cake

Since I have not posted a recipe lately, here is a good one. It is an easy, moist cake that my late mother-in-law Sarah (aka: Mimi) made often. Mimi was also known as "The Best Chicken Fryer in the State of Alabama" so that should tell you something. This recipe will be in my cookbook which will, hopefully, be available the end of 2010. Enjoy!!!

Mimi's Plum Cake

2 Cups self-rising flour
2 Cups sugar
3 eggs, beaten
1 Cup oil
1 T. cinnamon
1 T. vanilla
2 jars of baby food plums (yes, baby food!) ***
1 Cup chopped pecans

Mix flour, sugar and cinnamon in large mixing bowl. Add eggs and oil and mix well. Add vanilla, plums and nuts. Mix well and pour into a 8 X 8 greased square pan. Bake at 325 degrees for about an hour. Check for doneness. Poke holes all over the top of the cake with a toothpick.

*** My mom could not find baby food plums but did find baby food apples and plums. She said it turned out yummy.

Glaze:

1 Cup powdered sugar
1/4 Cup red wine

Blend until smooth. Pour over hot cake.

So What is Wrong with Pink Garage Doors?

The lady at the paint store asked my husband if he would like the primer paint tinted. He said "Sure!" He was reading the latest edition of "Cattle Gazette" or something at the time and really wasn't paying a lot of attention to what she was saying.



When he did look at the paint, it was a shade lighter than Pepto "the pink stuff" Bismol. Yummy!

We had out of town friends come over for a cookout last night. They said they had driven by the house earlier and wondered why we were painting the garage doors pink. They then decided it was the primer.

So, all three garage doors were bubble gum pink for a time. Two are now forest green. One still remains a glow-in-the-dark pink. It started raining and may rain all weekend. On Monday, I may get to paint the pink door green to match the others. I think it bothers me more than it does my husband. He seems to be confident enough in his masculinity, that the pink door doesn't bother him, at least for a couple more days.

Toto, I have a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore!

My husband picked me up at the Raleigh-Durham, N.C. airport, gave me a kiss and a hug and and whisked me back to Virginia. We played "catch-up" on the nearly two hour drive home. Yes, the cows were doing well and loving the new grass and clover. The renovation on the bathroom was just about complete ( I had wallpapered the bathroom before I left for Wichita and vowed never to do that again, considering my many "Lucy and Ethel" moments with 105" long strips of wallpaper coming down on my head.) It does look beautiful and if I can ever find a new shower curtain and wall hangings, our work will be complete. But I am getting off the track.

Spring had arrived in Virginia while I was in Kansas. The dogwood and cherry blossoms were in bloom and azaleas in bud. The grass turned green almost overnight and the trees were quickly unfolding green lush leaves. Spring in Virginia is like the sweet melody of a song. "Carry me back to old Virginny" ran through my mind, which is just what my husband did.

The view from our back deck is like heaven to me (see picture). Trees, pasture and often a cow or two as far as the eye can see. It is a tranquil retreat for me at the beginning and end of the day. In between is a different story. Living on a farm is work. Plain and simple- it is hard work. In the four years that Andy and I have been married, we have built a barn, put in miles of fencing (he more than "us"), planted trees, started a small herd of Black Angus cattle, and from our own trees, picked cherries and peaches, that I preserved in jars. We have sweated, working side by side to make this property beautiful. The amount of hours that Andy has worked grading road, seeding and fertilizing, fencing and plowing are many. For someone who is retired, there really isn't much rest. He has glaucoma which limits what he can do, but somehow he manages to get the job done. He has help and he has me, although, being a city girl, there are some things I struggle with. But learning to be a farmer has been fulfilling and at the end of the day, when we survey our little farm, it it satisfying to see what we have accomplished.

Now we are painting the house. It is a cedar house with 36 windows and a half dozen doors. The colors are very "earthy." A terra cotta called California Rustic for the house, cream for the windows and around the doors and forest green for the doors. It is a big job, again, we have help but I am in charge of the first floor windows and doors and it is not very much fun. Again, it is the satisfaction of the end result I look forward to. When I hang new wreaths on the front doors and install the new planters full of flowers on the front porch I will take and post a picture.

So, I came home to Ol' Virginia, green with spring and the promise of a long hot summer ahead. With cookouts, bluegrass concerts, camping trips and lots of work to look forward to, I am so glad to be home. In the following posts, I will talk about Virginia, the South and what being "Southern" means to me. So, Toto, we are not in Kansas anymore, but that is OK because the yellow brick road will always lead back there.

Leaving OZ

Now as I leave Kansas and travel home to Virginia, I know that the most important thing I am leaving is family. It was a wonderful time with Mom, Dad, Sister, brother-in-law and 16 year old granddaughter who live in Wichita. I was joined by my two sons and 7 year old grandson from the East coast and my brother from the West coast. We talked, laughed, fished, ate too much and listened to family history. We love each other and that is what is important no matter where we live or where we travel. I will miss Kansas and the people I leave there. Kansas is part of me, it is where I grew up and the most comfortable place I know. It is home and, as Dorothy said, there is no place like home.

A Very Unusual Night

The following story was written while I was at WSU then rewritten a couple of years ago as an article in the local newspaper. The story is about a "spook light" in an old farmhouse in Kansas. I witnessed another such phenomenon while going to school in Pittsburg, Kansas. That one is well documented and called The Hornet or Joplin light. If you Goggle "Spook Light", you will pull up many interesting articles and you may, Dear Readers, become a believer.

A Very Unusual Night

If the words "spook light" evoke a "yeah right!" reaction, you probably won't believe what I am about to tell you. If, on the other hand, you have an open mind, then maybe you WILL believe my account of the Potwin, Kansas spook light.

I was fifteen when I first heard of the light in an old abandoned farmhouse in Potwin, Kansas. My friend, Marti, was sixteen and able to drive. Her car was a two-toned green 1953 Plymouth, appropriately nicknamed "The Little Rattler." It was a cranky old hand-me-down, semi-reliable clunker, whose engine guzzled a can of oil every hour or two. We both had an eleven o'clock curfew, and, when we pulled into the drive at the old farmhouse, it was barely dusk. We had hours, if necessary, to sit and wait for SOMETHING to happen. Fortified with a stockpile of sodas and candy bars, we took to our post, ready to be scared out of our wits.

There were many stories of the Kansas spook light but the recurring theme was that a mysterious light would appear after dark in the house and barn. No one knew what cause the light but some speculated that it was caused by head lights from the nearby highway refracted up by water vapors. Other ideas were: ball lightening, swamp gas or UFOs. Articles had been written by journalists and experts in natural phenomenon. It seemed that everyone had an opinion about the unusual sightings.

So, with sodas in hand, we waited for the light show to begin. Seven o'clock came and nothing happened. Eight o'clock rolled around and all was quiet. It was a dark and moonless night. We locked the doors. By nine o'clock we had eaten all the candy and decided that a hamburger and french fries would sure taste good. In other words, there was nothing going on at the farmhouse and we were getting hungry and bored. One of us suggested that we give up and go back to town.

All at once, a light in one of the upstairs windows caught our attention. It stayed on for a few minutes, went out, then reappeared in another window. It was a dim glowing light. Downstairs, a light came on and then dimmed. There was a glow in the barn across the road, on and then off, then back to the house. An upstairs window was, again, illuminated, and then another, then another window downstairs. The sequence was becoming faster, one place to another, the house to the barn, back to the house with lights blinking off and on in room after room. Then the light went out and the night sky cast a black shadow over the house. It was very quiet inside the car. We were holding our breath and sat watching and waiting.

After a few minutes we finally took a breath and decided that the light was gone and we should be heading home. Before we had a chance to start the car, the light appeared again. It seemed to be between the house and the barn. It looked large and menacing. It was coming down the road. It was coming toward the car and toward us!

"Get out of here!" I yelled as Marti turned the key in the ignition.

Just like in a bad horror movie, the car creaked and groaned, then.... the engine died!

"Hurry! Start the car!" I cried, and as Marti tried the key again, I looked out the back window and saw a ball of light suspended in mid air. No person or wire was supporting it. There was no beam. This weird spook light hung there and then moved forward. It was coming after us.

The car engine came on with a roar and , as we jerked out of the drive and onto the road, we were screaming. I watched as the gleaming round ball moved ever closer to the car. Marti pushed the gas pedal to the floor. The little car squealed away and we were still shrieking as the ball of light disappeared in a cloud of dust.

Years later, in college English 101 class, I wrote about the spook light. The assignment was to describe a true incident in my life. The teacher gave me an A minus, noting that if the assignment was supposed to be fiction, I would have received an A. She appreciated by "vivid imagination" but I would still be marked down for not following instructions. It hurt my feelings a little that she didn't believe me.

I called Marti the other day and told her that I was writing about the spook light for the newspaper. We laughed about her beat up old car, then recalled what happened at the farmhouse and how frightened we were that night.

"Good luck with your story. You know they won't believe you!" She said as we hung up.

Well...... did you?

Delano

Back in the 1800s when Wichita was a cow town on the Chisholm Trail, Delano was the "Rowdy" side of town. Gunfights, drunken brawls, prostitution and gambling were kept out of Wichita and in the "suburb" of Delano. For a very interesting and funny (The Running of the Doves) history of Delano, check out www.historicdelano.com/history.

These days, Delano is a very busy community full of art galleries, shops, restaurants and families, a far cry from its raunchy past. The Delano Clock Tower, pictured, is in a roundabout intersection and it truly a work of art. The four bas-relief art panels depict Delano in its wild west heyday. The art work was done by Kansas artist, Kiv Yankey.

Wichita High School North

My Mother went to North High School when there were only two high schools in Wichita. It is a lovely old school and a finalist in the 8 wonders of Kansas Art contest.

In 1928 fifteen acres were purchased and North High was started. The architecture is modern American style and native Kansas artist Bruce Moore designed the colorful full size figures that

decorate the school, tower and bridge next to the school. The designs depict frontier days with an Indian Chief prominently displayed at each corner of the entrance and an Indian scout on the tower. Other designs include a buffalo head, eagle, bow and arrow, sunflower, and Indian tepee.

The Castle Inn Riverside

The historic Campbell Castle was built in 1888 by Col. Burton Harvey Campbell, a prominent Wichita businessman. Campbell funded many downtown buildings and a major hospital in Wichita. The house was designed as a Scottish Castle and located by the Little Arkansas River.

The castle was sold to the Crum family in 1960 and years later, sold to Dr. Terry and Paula Lowry who have restored it to its former glory. I toured the castle a few years before the Lowrys purchased it and turned it into an Inn. While it was in a state of disrepair at the time, it was plain to see that the bones of the castle were marvelous. The 275 year old staircase was imported from London. There are inlaid wooden floors, elegant carved fretwork and a beautiful 700 year old Grecian fireplace. The guestrooms are the ultimate in luxury. If you want to learn more about The Castle Inn Riverside, go to: www.castleinnriverside.com/

The Keeper of the Plains

This awesome 44 foot sculpture was designed by well known Native American artist Blackbear Bosin. The Keeper of the Plains was Bosins gift to the city of Wichita in 1974. It was placed at the confluence of the Little and Big Arkansas Rivers. This spot was considered a sacred site by many Native Americans, including the Wichita tribe. A ring of fire was recently added when the sculpture was placed on a 30 foot pedestal.

Nightmare!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Since I am reminscing about growing up in Wichita, when I was a kid, there was a wonderful amusement park called Joyland. This story took place long ago and while most of it is true, I confess to have taken a wee bit of artistic license. I have added a little dialog that, well, COULD have been said. At 63 years old, my memory fails me quite often, but this is how I remember: "Nightmare." I hope you enjoy!

Nightmare

Everything about Joyland was exciting. A big arrow on the neon sign pointed the way to the park and boasted of the giant roller coaster. My family bought tickets at the booth and crossed a a bridge to the entrance of the amusement park. On the right side of the bridge you could see the sparkling water of the large swimming pool. The pool was the site of many lazy summer days in the sun and moonlight swim parties sponsored by the local rock and roll radio station, KLEO. As we entered the park, the first thing we saw was the mammoth Wurlitzer Military Band pipe organ. It was played by an automated clown named Louie. The music was loud, adding to the carnival atmosphere. The smell of popcorn and cotton candy scented the summer air.

My sister, cousins and I were eager to ride the carousel, which to us, was a thing of beauty with its painted horses and pretty music. We also loved the ferris wheel, bumper cars and Tilt-a-Whirl. But the star of the show was the roller coaster. It was painted bright white and rose 80 feet high. Built in 1949 by the Philadelphia Toboggan Co., the roller coaster was was a remarkable wooden marvel, and one of only 44 original coasters of its kind in the world. We didn't know or care about all that, to us it was the best, and scariest ride in the world. The coaster was appropriately named "Nightmare."

And it WAS scary. The cars flew at 50 miles per hour around a 26 hundred foot track with twists and death defying maneuvers. This ride was not for the faint of heart. The sign at the top of the first hill read "Last Warning: Do Not Stand Up, Sit Down." Some brave souls raised their arms above their heads but most hands were frozen to the lap bar. Passengers screamed their lungs out. The ride only lasted a few minutes, but the thrill of danger made many get back on and ride again.

Mother, my little brother, Gregg, and Aunt Carol stayed in the station to watch. Dad, my little sister Rhonda, Uncle Bucky and his young son Mike, piled into the first two cars. The last car on the train was the scariest because it seemed to leave the track as it rounded curves and plunged down hills. My cousin Ronnie and I were "older", thirteen and eleven. We ran to the last car.

Nightmare pulled out of the station and slowly dipped down a small hill, went around a curve and started up the first steep hill. At this point the cogs engaged in the chain drive system. There was a big jolt and a "click, click, click." It was almost time to scream. We held our breath. As we approached the big sign, we gripped the bar tightly and prepared to be terrified. As the train dove down the first drop of 76 feet, we hung on for dear life, screaming all the way down. At the bottom of the hill, the cars burst up a short incline and whipped around a curve. We felt like we were flying and our stomachs were feeling queasy. We didn't know it at the time but this is where the trouble started.

Uncle Bucky swallowed his cigar.

The remaining twists and turns were quick and fast As we pulled into the station, Dad was slapping a choking Uncle Bucky on the back. At some point the stub of a cigar flew out of Uncle Bucky's mouth. He was coughing and turning a funny shade of green. Dad had a big, booming bariton voice and announced to the world that Nightmare had almost killed his brother-in-law. Dad was laughing so hard that everyone, even strangers, started laughing. Our trip to Joyland was cut short that day and as we drove home, with Uncle Bucky recovering in the back seat, Dad said "It sure is a good thing that cigar wasn't burning!"

I never thought of Joyland again without remembering the day Uncle Bucky swallowed his cigar. And, if I listen very closely, I can almost hear my Dad's big laugh roaring all the way home.

Dog and Shake

Another "have to go to place" my brother, sister and I visit in Wichita is "Dog and Shake." They serve hamburgers also, but the dog is the best.

In 1948, the Adamsons opened a hamburger joint called "Neal's Burger Bar". A second location followed in 1956. In 1962 they purchased "Sizzlin' Dog" and changed the name to "Dog and Shake." There are 5 locations still serving the famous hot dog with mustard, sweet pickle relish, onion and sprinkled with celery salt. The celery salt is the secret! The bun is actually a U shaped slice of bread, butter toasted. Yum. I wish I had one right now. They make good french fries and a chocolate malt which is almost as good as Nu-Way.

All the Dog and Shake buildings are different but have the same distictive red roof and yellow and red 1950's style sign. Love the sign.

Putt Putt to the Pizza Hut

In my last post, There is No Place Like Home, I talked about the Nu-Way Cafe. In talking to a friend in Florida, it seems that the Big Bun at Oliver and Central also had a loose meat sandwich much like Nu-Way. I never knew that Big Bun was also a teen hangout and very popular. My hangouts were Sandys and Griffs for burgers. Dragging Douglas on Friday nights always included burgers and fries. We could drive hours on 50 cents worth of gas.

There have been many famous companies founded in Wichita: White Castle, Coleman, Cessna, Beech, Lear Jet and Mentholatum to name a few. Perhaps the most well known company born in Wichita would be Pizza Hut.

In 1958 two brothers, Frank and Dan Carney borrowed $600 from their Mother, bought some second hand equipment and opened the first Pizza Hut. The rest is history. The first TV commercial for Pizza Hut aired in 1965. The catchy theme song went something like this: "Putt Putt to the Pizza Hut......." I am singing it right now and luckily no one can hear me. As for the name, one account is that the boys wanted the word "pizza" in the title and there was only room for 9 letters on the sign. Someone thought the tiny original building looked like a hut and there you go!

Pizza Hut pizza was a must at parties and slumber parties when I was in high school in the early 1960s. We loved it hot and even cold for breakfast! My friends and I hung out at the Pizza Hut by the University because the cutest boys worked there. The original building, shown above, has been moved to the Wichita State University campus.

There Is No Place Like Home

As I said in "Home Sweet Home," I grew up in Wichita, Kansas, lived there until age 22, then moved to the Deep South. My mother and sister (and their husbands) still live in Wichita. After just returning from there, I can tell you- there is no place like home, in both Kansas and here in Virginia.

While in Wichita, as always, there are the traditional places where my family loves to eat. One stop on every trip is The Nu-Way Cafe. The cafe was opened on July 1, 1930 and boasts the famous Nu-Way Sandwich. Simply called a "Nu-Way," it is a loose meat sandwich on a bun. It is messy but wonderful. Served with homemade curley fries and crunchy golden brown onion rings, we devour every morsel. Nu-Way makes their own special root beer and a root beer float or chocolate malt fills out the meal nicely, thank you very much! Oh yes, and they have a chili that is legendary around Wichita.

My mother remembers eating at the original Nu-Way at 1416 W. Douglas and even though there are other locations in Wichita, most natives believe the W. Douglas location is THE ONLY location! Mother says that Nu-Way was a popular teen hangout when she was in high school. A carhop would take the order and promptly bring out a tray of goodies. This was fast food of the 30s. The cafe is small inside now and even smaller back then. A U shaped bar with stools is on one side and the other side seats customers at booths and tables.

The Nu-Way recipe is a secret but the local newspaper, The Wichita Eagle, published a recipe in the 1990s after many requests. See below. I don't know if this is THE recipe and I haven't tried it yet, but if anyone does, please write me @ writingonarainbow@gmail.com and tell me how it tastes.

Homemade Nu-Ways

1 lb. lean ground beef
2 t. instant beef bouillion

3 t. water

salt and pepper

1 small onion, finely chopped

In a skillet, saute onion and ground beef over low heat until redness in meat is gone. Drain well. Add bouillion and water and cover. Simmer over low heat until the water has cooked away. Adjust seasoning by adding salt and pepper as desired.

Spoon meat on a bun, with mustard and dill pickles. Add a slice of cheese if desired and enjoy a taste of Wichita!

My Home Sweet Home

I am a Southerner by marriage, but I still hold tight to my Midwestern roots. Wichita, Kansas was home for the first twenty-three years of my life. This is where my parents grew up, made a life and raised a family. I was safe, secure and, like my parents, I thought I would stay there forever. My home sweet home was Kansas.

From the air, the Kansas farmland below spreads out like a giant quilt. Square after square of corn, green alfalfa and golden wheat appear as a patchwork of color. This land is the breadbasket of the country. Tumbleweeds drift across the dusty plains. Windmills turn in fields of sunflowers. Flat lands that hold up endless blue sky make up the land of Dorothy, Toto and tornados. 

There are cowboy towns named Dodge City, Council Grove and Abilene. Places like Boot Hill and Fort Larned on the Santa Fe Trail are full of history and legend. Wichita, Wyandotte and Shawnee are among the many towns named for Indian tribes. Even the word Kansas comes from the Kansa tribe. 

Both farmer and statesmen have lived here. Bloodlines from the study lineage of Irish, English, German and Native Indian have produced rich, diverse cultures. The Native American Indian Chief Santana, who was called the "Orator of the Plains', lived in Kansas. People such as Dwight D. Eisenhower, George Washington Carver, the poet Langston Hughes, Buffalo Bill Cody, Charles Lindbergh and author Laura Ingalls Wilder lived, spoke and taught here. Good honest people with strong values live in Kansas and I have always been proud of my heritage.

Yet, I left my home in Wichita, moved to the deep South and married a Southerner. And, while gracious people welcomed me to their world, Alabama seemed a million miles from Kansas. It was a foreign land with an equally foreign vocabulary and an accent I didn't understand. I was homesick for what was "familiar." Maybe I could click my heels three times and return home. "There is no place like home" Dorothy said.

Still, there was such a natural beauty in the South. Tall pines, delicate dogwood trees and azalea dotted the landscape. Thick green parasitic Kudzu vines attached themselves to trees and created lush "kudzu monsters." The scent of gardenia and magnolia filled the air in Williamsburg, Virginia. I saw the mountains of Tennessee and smelled the salty surf on the beaches of Panama City, Florida and the Outer Banks of North Carolina. 

Growing up in Kansas I was used to wonderful food: Kansas City steaks and beef brisket BBQ, hearty chicken fried steak and chicken and dumplings. The food in the South was also amazing: fried okra, black-eyed peas, sweet tea and ham biscuits. Delicacies I had never heard of such as brunswick stew, boiled peanuts and grits were commonplace. The aroma of fried chicken and corn bread seemed to waft from every kitchen and restaurant. I was in Southern fried heaven.

The easy lifestyle and charm of the South were pulling me in and making me love it. I became aware of all things "Southernly": Scarlett and Rhett, the beauty of the Blue Ridge and Smokey Mountains, antebellum plantations and, of course, yummy banana pudding. 

My speech slowly changed from "you guys" to "y'all." I was suddenly "fixin" to do things and developed a drawl. Historical places that I had only read about came to life: Atlanta, Selma and Charleston as well as Richmond and Appomattox. The land of Oz was a long way from here.

I remember feeling a tinge of disloyalty to my Kansas roots.  Now living in the South, did I have to choose one place over the other or could I meld into a combination of the two? Was I a transplant? Where could I buy a pair of ruby red slippers and click myself to Kansas? Did I really want to go back?

 

Learning to take the best of both worlds I can now appreciate the Kansas of my youth and Virginia where I now make my home. I am a Southerner by marriage with my roots in the Midwest. It is a blessing to have the two places in my consciousness. I love them equally and there is room in my heart for both.

                                                                  Sweet Tea Recipe

1 Cup of sugar

2 Quarts of cold water

The juice of two lemons

6 regular sized tea bags

Combine the sugar, lemon juice and water in a large pan and bring to boil.  Stir and remove from heat. Add the tea bags and cover the pan. Allow to steep for 20-30 minutes. Remove tea bags, cool and pour into a pretty pitcher. Pour into ice filled glasses and garnish with a slice of lemon or mint leaves. Enjoy!