Meys Menu

I don't know if it was from her days as "Sister Mary Gregory", or if my Mom was raised like this, but when I was a youngster we had a very strict menu in our house.  My Dad was a meat and potatoes man, so we never had things like pizza for dinner, or tacos, or spaghetti.  I introduced these into our household when I was in junior high.  Even then our taco meat was actually sloppy joe meat, and usually reserved for a time when my folks were going out to dinner. I took cooking in 4H when I was maybe eleven, and that's how spaghetti finally made the menu.

We had things like pizza and sloppy joes, but they were on the lunch menu only.  Breakfast would vary, but Saturday was always pancakes and sausage, and Sunday was bacon and fried eggs. 

Monday: Hamburger of some sort, meatloaf most likely.  Might be hash if there was left over roast. (gag)

Tuesday: Baked chicken, with baked potato and a veggie.  One of the better nights, unless the veggie was canned peas.

Wednesday:  Steak night.   The cheapest cut available, and it usually was "onion steak" meaning topped with onion soup mix and broiled.  This is better known as "The reason Joanie rarely eats steak."  If it wasn't steak it could be some random hot dish or new (shudder) thing my Mom was trying.

Thursday:  I can't recall, so it was probably a day where we might have hot dog hot dish (DA BOMB!) or something nasty like liver.  We didn't have "Cheery Chops" on the weekend, so that could have reared it's ugly head on a Thursday too.  My sister still makes that God awful stuff. *shudder*

Friday: Fish.  Always fish.  Good thing we all liked fish.  It was kind of fun when we were a little older and the family got a deep frier.  Then we had fried shrimp and clams and "exotic" things like that.  Plus we  always had spinach on Friday.  The canned kind.  Ish.

Saturday:  Pork, in the form of chops or steak.  They were cut thin, and must be broiled enough to be crunchy......  Not as bad as what they did to steak.

Sunday:  Pork roast or beef roast with potato, onion, and carrots, or there might be ham!

We had dessert every night of the week.  It was usually cake, but sometimes pudding.  Of course I had to eat my dinner to get to that point, so I many times I didn't have dessert.  Most people fondly remember their mother's cooking.  I am not one of them.  I think the only thing I make that is from the good old days is Hot Dog Hot dish.  (DA BOMB)  I did love her garlic bread and home made buns though, and she made amazing cookies!  So there is that.  Lemon tortes, fudge....... yeah, she had a good handle on the desserts!

After much consideration, maybe with three young kids and a part time job the menu schedule was just a way to make her own life easier.  I know that when I had a household to run and was working full time I would create a two week menu to shop off of, and that comes directly from watching my Mom.  It makes things a lot less easier when you don't have to think about what's for dinner.  However, there weren't any cheery chops or liver on that menu, and many times I eat dessert first, just because I can! ;)  

The Great Pumpkin......disaster.

This Halloween shall forever be known as " The Great Pumpkin Disaster of '13".

Every year we look forward to carving pumpkins.  We each get our own, because: (A) We have very different ideas about pumpkin carving in general. (B) Refer back to "A".  I like traditional pumpkin faces, and The Brown Eyed Man likes to go wild!  He's amazing, and I love to watch him do his thing, but I like to carve too, even if I'm not as artistic.  I also LOVE roasted pumpkin seeds, and this is the one night of the year I can gorge myself silly on them.

Last week The Man picked up our pumpkins, but we just didn't have time over the busy weekend to carve them.  We have a standing date night on Wednesdays to watch "Coven", so that turned out to be the perfect time.

His pumpkin was big, all bumpy and odd shaped.  I couldn't wait to see what he would create out of it!  Mine was big, plain, round, and pretty even.  A perfect ol triangle eyed, happy faced pumpkin if I ever saw one.  So we begin, and half way through I notice something.

Me: Did you ever notice that every single thing we do we approach from the exact opposite angle??

Him: (laughing) Yep.

Me: I cut open the pumpkin and gut it first, and you immediately grab a marker and start to draw.

Him: (Silence)

Me: I'm not saying either way is wrong, just that we always get to the end product in opposite ways.

Him: Yep.  My way is not wrong.

Me:  I didn't say it was, BUT how can you draw it first?  You're going to smear it, and get it all over you when you goop it out.  It's much better to goop it first.

Him: Did the words "You are wrong." come out of my mouth?

Me:  No, but that's what you were thinking.

Then it happened.

He turned the pumpkin around so I could see it, and it was shaping up to be something amazing.  I wish at some point I had taken a pick of that cool pumpkin.  The Brown Eyed Man stuck the knife in the top, cut her open, and then gagged.  It was totally rotten inside.  Just about the most disgusting thing I have ever seen.  There were already lil flies, right inside of the pumpkin!  Then the smell hit me, and I gagged. 

I told him to just toss it out the patio door, which he did.  Right smack onto the little table that sits between our Adirondack chairs, and busted it to bits............

Meanwhile, pumpkin seeds from my pumpkin were cooking, and the smell was at least covering up the smell of rotted pumpkin.  I offered my pumpkin up to his artistic abilities, but he declined.  So I continued on with my happy pumpkin, who turned out to be a bit of a hillbilly.  (BOO-boo Child is what I called it.) The Brown Eyed Man started offering suggestions, and I suggested he remove himself from the kitchen.  He had his chance. 

BOO- boo Child

So I finished up, got the candle, and we had our one lone pumpkin to light the room while we watched "Coven", and ate pumpkin seeds.  However, I burned the seeds.  In all my life I have never burned the seeds!  I was so peeved I could have thrown a full blown tantrum on the kitchen floor.

To top it off, I forgot the pumpkin when I came back to town today, so what will be my last Halloween on Hughitt Avenue will not be graced with a pumpkin on the steps.  Yep, I said my last.  Rent has gone up again, and I'm through giving that man my money.  That's about all I know right now.  I WILL be out by the end of the year.

Anyhoo......  I can't wait to see all the trick-or-treaters out tonight!  The biggest bowl I own is full of candy, and will hopefully be empty by 8pm.  Come on down! 

Happy Hannah

Happy Birthday Hannah Oh Well!  (straight from.... Albuquerque)  My baby, my Godchild, my sweet sweet girl.  Ten years old today, and I can hardly believe it!


You started out as a hurricane, and now have become a sweet breeze.  You used to run me ragged, now you just boggle my mind with endless questions!  Library days with you this summer were awesome, it was great to spend time sharing our love of books.  Watching you help Tater with her reading was amazing.  Maybe someday you'll be a teacher?  Whatever you do, I know that you will go far, with your smarts and your kindness.

I am looking forward to seeing you on Saturday at your party, and we will make plans for the Goover Birthday Sleepover!  We will have to work on crazy eights some more.  Maybe you've been practicing so that you are ready to beat me?  Little card shark. :) 

Happy, happy birthday lovey, you are such a special girl.   Looking forward to all the goover adventures we will have this year!  Oh, and you know how you are always asking for my stuff?  Do I have a surprise for you!!

Love you to the moon and back and around the block my little one!  O.k. maybe not so little anymore, but give your poor Aunt a break, and pretend??  ♥


Bacon

Bacon, in my humble opinion, is just about the best thing there is.  (My dog happens to agree!)  Growing up we had bacon and eggs every Sunday morning after church.  My Mom had a strange thing with routine, and we rarely deviated, and never for Sunday morning breakfast!  Everyone got one fried egg, a couple strips of bacon, a piece of buttered toast, and there was usually wine bread or a danish with cherry or lemon filling.  The only choice you had was grapefruit, or no grapefruit.  Sometimes, if you were lucky there would be cantaloupe.  Saturday mornings, were pancakes and sausage.

This could easily turn into a menu of what the Meys family ate every week, because it was that regimented, but that will have to wait for another day.  Today is all about bacon, glorious bacon!

Some years ago someone decided that bacon was very, very bad for you. (rat bastard)  At that time I said "Well, everyone has to die of something.  I choose bacon."

Yesterday we had bacon for breakfast.  It has kind of become our Sunday thing to have a late morning bacon and egg breakfast, and I for one (and the dog) hope that it continues.  This is partly due to the fact that I don't cook this particular breakfast, but mostly because I just love bacon!

Yesterday in a strange turn of quiet Sunday events there was a fire, that had tense moments, but ended alright.  Then shortly after that a plane flew over, with no engine running, and looked like it was heading toward a crash in the backyard trees.  Finally, a few hours later  I almost got creamed by a deer on the way home.  I still can't figure how I missed her.  She didn't miss the truck in the oncoming lane, and I was so close I heard the crunch. *shudder*

So death by fire, airplane crash, or car accident all crossed my path yesterday.  Thank goodness my guardian angel was paying attention.  I still, absolutely choose bacon!

Fierce

Fierce!  That is what forty-four is all about.

Letting go of the comfort zone, doing things that are difficult for me, making hard choices, letting go of past hurts, sending away my tiger. 

On Sunday night the Brown Eyed Man had some car trouble.  The short of it was that he wanted me to drive the big truck and tow his car (with him in it) to my garage.  Normally I would have nixed that plan.  Instead I just went along with it. 

Him: I have something to say and you're not going to like it.

Me: I rarely do, might as well spill it.

Him: I want to get the truck and tow the car to your garage.

Me: Yeah, sure.  I don't mind driving back out to the country.

Him: No, you don't get it.  I want YOU to drive the truck and tow me.

Me: Uhhhh.......???  Can I even reach the pedal?

Long, involved, two hours later, story short......... 

The car was safely tucked away in my garage, minus a flat tire that happened while towing.  I called "not my fault" and "you pay all fines" (there weren't any) before we started, but I drove that truck.  He may have had to toss me in because there aren't any hand holds to grab onto to climb in, but I drove that damn thing.  Side note, this all happened in the worst neighborhood in town. (of course)

My cousin Val thought it might be a marketable skill for me.  Ha.... I don't think so.  I am still trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up, but tow truck driver is NOT on the list of possibilities!  Now race car driver.............  (Don't worry, I can't reach the gas pedal.)