"Just Call Him Picaso!"

This weekend, I went over to help my friend Lanie get her new place all snazzed up before her big move.  This required a little bit of painting.  Luckily, we had a little fella who we deemed "Picaso" there to help us.  :)

I suppose that's the best part about old friendships...It doesn't really matter what you're doing.  Even work can be fun when you add a little laughter to it.  Good times were had. 

Meanwhile, Happy Halloween, y'all!  I will be out at the Courthouse tonight at the Trunk or Treat for anyone who would like to stop by with their littles!  Hope to see you there!

Mama Says Monday: Peanut Butter Bars

Another Recipe...

A couple of weeks ago, I gave you a very easy recipe for Payday Bars. So today, I want to share another of my favorite easy recipes. It is for Peanut Butter Bars (which taste amazingly like Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups.)

Peanut Butter Bars
1 cup butter, melted
1 cup peanut butter
2 cups graham cracker crumbs
2 cups confectioner’s sugar
1 ½ cups semi-sweet chocolate chips
4 TBSP peanut butter

In a medium bowl mix together cracker crumbs and confectioner’s sugar. In a microwave safe bowl melt butter and peanut butter in microwave, stir together to blend. Combine butter mixture with crumb mixture until well mixed. Press evenly in bottom of 9X13 inch pan.

Melt chocolate chips and 4 TBSP peanut butter in microwave until smooth, spread over crust. Refrigerate for at least 1 hour before cutting into bars. Enjoy!

Sunday Small Town Shout-Out: The Bark & Purr Inn

So, last week, the Sheffield girls went off gallavantin' with the Hancheys.  But what is one to do, when you have one sad, chubby chocolate lab giving you the puppy dog eyes?  You take her to Mrs. Ella's.

Karter Lee LOVES going to the Bark & Purr Inn, when we're away.  Honestly, it's extremely hard to leave her.  However, I am always assured when I see how happy she is when we pull up to the Bark & Purr.  She suddenly has the energy of a puppy again; she is just so excited.  I never have a moment's doubt leaving her there, as I know Ella will take great care of her.  Plus...I'm the neurotic dog mom who calls to check on her baby nearly every day.  I always get updates.  In fact, once, when we were in Kentucky, we got a call from Ella about one of our dogs having a UTI.  She had already called the vet and gotten her on antibiotics.  Yes, Mrs. Ella is THAT good.

My dad and Mrs. Ella were good friends, and he always thought it was the coolest thing that she'd started a boarding business.  And y'all, she stays busy!  Of this, I am so proud for her.

If y'all ever need a little getaway, but are worried about what to do with your furbabies, give Mrs. Ella a call.  Just remember to call in advance as she does book up pretty fast!

Saturday In The South

It's safe to say, I'm a little obsessed with train tracks.  I don't know why, but I love to take photos of them.

Welcome to Woodstock

I'm not sure if you've ever heard of a little town just North of Atlanta, named Woodstock. If you have not, please take note, this will be one of those little towns you'll want to visit. 

I'd heard a few years back that Woodstock had undergone a bit of a City Re-vamping, where the town stayed alive fairly late on Fridays and Saturdays, as an attempt to build tourism. Y'all, this little town lives up to that. I instantly fell in love with it's charm, upon driving into town last Friday night. 

Like Trenton, their city participates in the scarecrows lining the streets. However, rather than being just 4-Hers, all of the little town's businesses get involved. The scarecrows were adorable. 

I also am a sucker for a town with little bakeries, and little boutiques, and little coffee stores lining the streets. This town had all of that! Nearly all of which were open at 7 and 8 on Friday night! 

The truffles and Macaroons I picked up at the little bakery in town.

It also has train tracks coming through the middle of town. And there is a train car on Main Street. (I'm a sucker for some train tracks…just see my post tomorrow ;).

This restaurant had some of the best mashed potatoes I'd ever eaten.  Oh. My. Word.

This town was chock-full of charm. I would highly recommend staying there on your next trip up that way.

Lon

It smelled of medicine, bleach, and scrambled eggs. They'd just finished with breakfast.

Today, her eyes were bright, and almost twinkled. Today would be one of her better days. Some days she couldn't remember what year it was, or who the president was, or where she was. Other days, she could recollect the past in such vivid detail, one would think it was playing out right in front of her eyes.

"Tell me about Grandpa," I ask. Her favorite topic.

"Lon," she said with a smile, "he was the most handsome of all the men training to be pilots. I can still remember him coming into the restaurant with all of his friends. They were laughing and cuttin' up. He stopped me dead in my tracks. Never had I seen such a handsome fella. He was in his uniform and he looked so dashing. Stella and I were sitting a few tables over from them. I got up to go powder my nose…Well, to walk past and get a better look." She laughed. "As I came up to his table, a waiter passed by me, and nearly dropped the tray he was holding. I stumbled and fell right into Lon! I was so embarrassed! I just knew I was beet red! He jumped up and helped me to my feet. Then, Lon looked at me…with the most beautiful blue eyes you ever did see, and he smiled. Right then and there I knew."

The nurse came in to check her vitals. As she spoke with the nurse, my mind began to wander.

I always wonder where she really is. Whether the present is her reality or whether the 1940s are her reality.

I also wonder how it would feel to be in her shoes. Good days and bad, the memories of yesteryear always shine the brightest.

I then began to wonder…When the sands of time have almost run out, and my hair is white, and my eyes are crinkly with age, I wonder where my mind will traipse back to.

And then I realize, with assurance, what the mind forgets, the heart will remember.  Just like Grandma, with her Lon...no matter how many years pass by, no matter the distance, I will always remember you.

Not So Wordy Wednesday: ATL

Y'all, when it comes to Atlanta…I, Miss Aleta Kaylee, am a big Fraidy Cat. I have driven with Cynthia Kay through Atlanta twice. Both times she has taken us off on the wrong exit and we have wound up in a very bad section of town. As always, my mother can find "Rape Row."

This weekend, my sister drove through Atlanta for us. We went through on a Sunday, mid-morning, so the traffic was not bad luckily.

But something that struck me was how pretty the skyline was in certain sections.

A Milestone And A Thank You

In the wee hours of the morning on Sunday, my little blog met kind of a big milestone. Now to some, it would be small potatoes…but to me, it was kind of a huge deal.

See, there have been days when I didn't feel like blogging. There have been days when I felt like just giving it up. As I've mentioned before, I have a problem with follow through. I'm really good at having an idea and starting it up…but the follow through part? Eh…not so much. I will add here that writing, for me, is very emotion-driven. There are days when I have oodles of ideas and things to write about. There are other days when I find it really hard to stay motivated.

This year, I promised myself that I would have more discipline with my writing. My end goal was to make it a whole year, writing and posting something every day. I kind of had to prove to myself that I wasn't a complete flake. Lol. Now, I haven't gotten there yet. I think that will be January 17, 2018.

BUT….

In the wee hours of the morning on Sunday, my small town blog had received over 50,000 views. Like I said, to some, that may not seem like a big deal. No, I've not gone viral. No, I've not become exceedingly popular. But to me? It's kind of huge.

Thank you to those that follow me. Thank you to those that always try to support me in my efforts. Thank you to all of those that have given me encouraging words, who have shared my blog, and to those that read it. I thank y'all. You have been a blessing to me this year.

Mama Says Monday: A Georgian Discovery

So, I made a discovery this weekend. We attended the apple festival in Ellijay, Georgia. What fun!!! We went with a friend, who had also never attended the apple festival before. Altogether there were eight of us, we took two cars. 

There were all kinds of arts and crafts, and of course, lots of festival food. There were things like wings, buffalo chicken on a stick, red beans and rice, fried green tomatoes, roasted corn, fried pickles, funnel cakes, and all things apple. We arrived at the festival right around 9:00 and there were already lots of people there. We walked around for a while, just taking in all that was there. Aleta wanted fried green tomatoes, because she can’t ever pass up a fried green tomato, but I just tasted one because I didn’t think I wanted that grease so early in the day. We were kind of winding down around noon and I still had not eaten anything. My daughter had tried a sliced apple with caramel sauce and said it was wonderful. So, I got one because I didn’t know if we would be getting lunch soon. It was delicious.

Our other plans included picking apples at one of the local orchard. That didn’t quite pan out the way we planned. The apples had already been picked, you could pick them from bins (As you also can, from the Walmart).

After our apple picking was a bust, we headed down the road to a waterfall. We walked down several flights of stairs, then down a “fitness trail” (which was a rough, rocky, steep downhill path which was difficult to traverse with a bad knee) to view the upper portion of the waterfall. Then we climbed the same rough trail back up. Bear in mind, I had already traipsed around the apple festival. Then we discovered that you could just drive and park at the top of the waterfall. WHAT??!!!

I decided then that I really needed to eat lunch. It was close to 3:00. The young adults “googled” for some nearby restaurants. This is my big discovery of the weekend. Those people up there don’t eat!!! They searched and searched for a restaurant. Two or three places didn’t open until after 5:00. They finally found one and off we went. After riding and riding, we finally turned off the road into a gated community. We were stopped at the gate and informed that it was a “private” restaurant, and pointed to the way out of the community. Apparently “google” wasn’t given that piece of information. After another “google” search, a barbeque place was located. We rode and rode and finally pulled into a less than impressive spot on the landscape. We finally got to eat lunch around 4:30. The food can only be described as something to fill that empty hole in the stomach. We were nearing Woodstock before we started seeing restaurants again. What and where do those people eat??

On another note, Rheba had seen a sign while traveling, that said Arby’s had venison sandwiches. Then we found out that the sandwiches were only offered for one day. She did get one in Woodstock and said the venison was delicious.

Coming home on Sunday, we stopped at one of our favorite places, the Whistle Stop Café in Juliette, Georgia. And may I say, it was just as wonderful as it has been in the past. And it was extra special sharing it with friends who had never been there.

We had a great time with lots of laughter, with wonderful friends this weekend. Everyone should get away and take such a road trip.

Sunday Obsession: The Perks of Adulthood (The Few)...

Okay, so Adulthood does not have many perks.  We have taxes.  We have to work or go to school...ALL. THE. TIME.  We have bills to pay.  We are ALWAYS tired.  There is an endless list of the cons of being an adult.

But there are some simple pleasures of adulthood.  Like eating Captain Crunch for dinner, and calling it "dinner."  Staying up late (which may explain why we're always tired) on a work night.  Not having a curfew.  Not having to find the third side of a triangle on the regular.

There are many, many days where I wish I could go back to the simplicity of childhood.  But tonight as I sit enjoying every bite of my Captain Crunch for dinner...I'm thankful for adulthood.

Saturday In The South

I am loving the slight change of season. And even though it's still high 80s most days, the colors are starting to get a little deeper and rich around Watsonville.

Easy Peasy Cheese Spread

Okay...by now, you've probably noticed that I love easy recipes.  Ones that are delicious that don't require too much time or too many ingredients.  This is one of those recipes.

Easy Peasy Cheese Spread

1 package of Merkt's Sharp Cheddar Cheese Spread (with a blue lid, can be found near the deli)
2 8 oz. cream cheese bricks (softened)
1 tsp of garlic salt
As many ground pecans as your little heart desires  (I mix some in the spread, but also save some to put on top....but then again, I love pecans, so I use a lot).

Mix the top 3 ingredients until they are mixed well and smooth.  Mix in half of the pecans that you have ground.  Mix well.  Put into the container that you intend to use.  Sprinkle the remaining ground pecans on top.  Refrigerate for 30 minutes to an hour.  Serve with crackers.

The Southern Language Barrier

Have you ever noticed that there are specific dialects scattered all throughout the South? There is a definite "Gulf" accent. There are those with the beautiful Creole accent. There is the Low Country accent. And Alabama, Georgia, Tennessee and Kentucky have their own as well.

And y'all, there is nothing more soothing to me than a Southern accent. I love to hear all the different types.

But sometimes, even amongst our own…there is a language barrier. And at times, it just gets funny.

Just a few other examples that I've dealt with recently:

Church lady: "What is your name?"
Me: "I'm Aleta."
Church lady: "Imalita?"
Me: "No ma'am. I'm (points to chest) Aleta."
Church lady: "Malita?"
Me: "My name is Aleta."

Store owner: "What part of Florida are you from?"
Me: "Chiefland."
Store owner: "Chief-lannnnnnnn."
Me: "Umm…yes, Chiefland."

Ocala Walgreens lady: "Where are you from?"
Me: "Oh, I'm from Trenton. Just about an hour away from here."
Ocala Walgreens lady: "Oh, you have the most distinctive South Carolina accent."
Me: "hmmmm…."

Me to friend: "What'd they have to allow?"
Friend (Looks at me incredulously)… "Aleta, I have no idea what you just said."
Me: "I asked what they had to allow?"
Friend: "Ummm????"

At times, I thought it might have been just my own awkwardness being projected off onto other people…but sometimes, I think it may just be a language barrier. Lol.

Not So Wordy Wednesday

I love an old house.  Even a dilapidated one.  I wonder what those walls saw in their heyday.  I wonder how long it's been there, I wonder about the family that owned it, what it looked like originally...

Even an old falling-down building can be beautiful...Of course, like they say, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.  :)

ASK PSA

I sit writing this with my foot propped up with ice, and I am cranky y'all. Cranky.

There is very little that works my nerves more than someone who shows blatant disrespect for my time/schedule. I know that i've griped about it more than a time or two on Facebook.

While, yes, it may seem glorious that I now have three day weekends now, I still have a lot to do in those three days off. I still have to plan and prepare for my next week's classes, I still have to write my blog posts for the week, I still have to find time to spend with friends and family, do laundry, do errands, etc….

This week, for instance, I worked Monday through Thursday; had plans Monday and Wednesday night; had class on Tuesday and Thursday night….Friday, I had a meeting at 9:30 a.m., had an impromptu pedicure (because I knew I'd be unable for a few weeks) right after that….and I only ended up having an hour to rest before I met a friend to go to my appointment that evening.

My best friend and I finally got to hang out and catch up last night over dinner. That had been planned a week or so in advance…because we both just have crazy lives right now.

The truth is, these days, if we're going to hang out, it has to be planned in advance. Yes, it takes the spontaneity out of it….but that's my life right now.  And quite frankly, I don't want to hear crap about it.

Mama Says Monday: For The Love of Figs

I’ve talked a lot about growing up on the farm. My father built our home where his grandfather had had his home. I think I heard that their home had burnt down. At any rate, we had fig trees by our house and down the lane. One of the trees, the one closest to the house, was huge. We had the little brown sugar figs, at least, that’s what my father called them. Other people had bigger purple figs, but I don’t think they made the best preserves, because everybody always wanted ours.

Before summer came, a lot of people would remind my mother or father that they would like some figs if they were plentiful. So, when the figs started to ripen, we would pick figs until my mother had put up all the fig preserves that our family needed, and then it was on. My parents would call someone and schedule them to arrive every two or three days to pick figs. 

As I recall, there were about seven trees. As I said before, these trees were fairly large. Adults could pick figs from the lower limbs while standing on the ground under the trees. Now some of these folks would only want a potful or two. But most would take all they could get. Most of them would go straight home and get started making fig preserves. (And by the way, no one was charged for the figs, they were free.)

Now some would bring their children to help pick figs, but some of the older ladies would come, knowing that Ercelle and Betty’s kids would help them. Of course, we were free labor, and were expected to help everyone, even the ones with kids. And there were no ladders taken to the trees to pick from. No, that was what us kids were for. We had to climb up into the trees to pick the ones out of reach. It was here that we honed our tree climbing skills. We could climb those trees like monkeys, swinging from limb to limb, holding our buckets and picking figs.

Now let me explain something about fig trees. Apparently, some folks have a reaction to fig trees/leaves like they do with okra. It would make them itch. My mother had to buy lots of rubbing alcohol during this time, because people would be itching after picking the figs, and would rub their hands and arms down with alcohol to try to stop the itching. This malady didn’t seem to bother the Watson kids. But all that itching that other people suffered didn’t seem worth the effort to me, I hated fig preserves. But people would come until the figs were all gone. 

As a kid, I hated fig preserves. Well, actually, I hated the chunks of figs that were in fig preserves. I sort of liked the syrupy jelly around those chunks, there just wasn’t much of it, because my father liked his preserves with lots of figs. (It’s probably just a texture thing for me, I also hate strawberry preserves, but I like strawberry jelly.)

There are no fig trees today at the farm. I can’t really remember when they all died. But like other things you may not have liked during childhood, now I miss them. Several years ago, I saw a fig tree while working. The owner told me that I could get a cutting from it, but it wasn’t the right time of year. I was told I needed to get it in late December. Then I retired and never got it. And you know how people’s taste change? I wonder if I would like fig preserves better now that I am older. Or the inner cook in me wonders if you could put the preserves in a food processor, so they wouldn’t have chunks. Oddly enough, I love fig newtons. Strange isn’t it?

Sunday Obsession: The Good Doctor

Image found on Wikipedia

A few weeks ago, I kept seeing a commercial for an upcoming show that looked rather interesting. Now, for those of you who know me fairly well, you know that I am a comedy girl…a sitcom girl…with the only variance being my obsession with the Hallmark Movies and Mysteries (Matlock….Murder She Wrote….Murder She Baked, etc). I rarely sit down to watch a drama. I suffer from "Cant-deal-with-emotions-itis." Lol. But, I saw this commercial and thought the show looked interesting, so I set the DVR….

Y'all….If you aren't watching "The Good Doctor," you should be. It's about an autistic surgeon with Savant Syndrome that is doing his residency at St. Bonaventure Hospital on their Surgical Team.

I won't lie here…it will tug at your emotions. I have found myself in tears, especially during his childhood flashbacks, that show the connection between he and the President of St. Bonaventure Hospital. You find yourself rooting for him, wanting him to succeed. You find yourself hating some of the characters and loving others.

I absolutely love their choice for Dr. Murphy. I had watched Freddie Highmore in Bates Motel, and that was part of what drew me into watching The Good Doctor. He does such justice to Dr. Murphy's character. His awkwardness with social settings, his struggle to communicate…he is endearing and will win your heart in one episode.




I love that they go to the efforts of trying to show what Dr. Murphy is seeing in his mind when dealing with patients. He is almost looking back on diagrams that he saw while he was in Medical School. It shows that what he sees is different than that of the other doctors.




It is both heartbreaking and heartwarming. I hope you will give it a watch. It comes on ABC on Monday nights at 10 p.m.

Saturday in the South

So today is not a normal Saturday in the South post. But…it's how I'm spending my Saturday. As you sit reading this, I am most likely on my couch, with my foot propped up…possibly being iced.

No, no…I didn't hurt myself. I did, however, cover up something last night that has been bothering me lately.

Here is the before and after pics. I'm not going to lie to y'all, the pain nearly got to me in the end. Holy. Moly. That is possibly the worst pain I've experienced in my life. But to say that I am completely in love with my tattoo would be putting it mildly. Jennifer did such an amazing job. It was just what i had pictured. It was just what I wanted. And she bought my dreams to fruition.. 

Before and After.  Photo Credit: Jennifer Gonzales at Artistic Soul Tattoo

If y'all have ever thought about getting a tattoo, or perhaps want another…talk to Jennifer at Artistic Soul in Chiefland. She is so incredibly talented.

Glorious, Fabulous Friday...

So, I don't know about y'all, but this Friday seemed like it would never get here.  I have had just a terrible, awful week.  One of those "Is this really my life right now?" with a heapin' helpin' of "What next?" kind of weeks.

Alas, all is well, and we have finally made it to Friday.  Praise the Lord.

Well, I'm excited about Friday because it is the end of a dreadful week...BUT....I'm also excited about Friday being here for another reason.

3 hints....

1.  "Lou Foote" and "Aleta Faleeta" are about to have another adventure.

2.

3.  Not a pedicure.  Although...I will be getting one of those tomorrow too, hopefully :)

Stay posted....

Pancreatic Cancer Sucks

Six years ago today, in the very early hours of the morning, we said goodbye to a legend. Today, I want to post something to possibly bring some awareness to Pancreatic Cancer.

He smelled of Old Spice aftershave and smokeless tobacco. You could spot him in a crowd in his Liberty overalls and his “brogans” typically with dog leash in hand with a big drooling bloodhound on the end of the leash; with a big ol’ smile across his face. He liked to call people by their first and last name, and would often say “This is Jackie Sheffield” when on the phone with friends and even family. He was a simple man, with simple dreams, who wanted to live his life doing the things he loved. I loved that man with all my heart :)

---

I was sitting at my desk at the Journal, typing up articles for that weeks paper. It was July 25, 2011. Days before my 25th birthday.

My daddy had went to the hospital the night before. He’d had gallbladder surgery around three weeks earlier and he was still experiencing excruciating pain. Sunday night, they’d decided to keep him...acknowledging that that shouldn’t have been happening.

My mama called me that morning....around 11 a.m. I remember asking “What’s the latest? What has the doctor said? How’s daddy doing.” And my mama said hesitantly, “Well, they’ve found a mass on his pancreas.” Of course, my mind was going a mile a minute with questions like “What does that mean? Could it just be a cyst? What does that MEAN?” Mama just stated that the doctors didn’t seem to think that it was a cyst and she would keep me posted.

Doctors came and went. None of their news was positive.

The next day was one of the few times that Rheba and I didn’t go and visit daddy. Mama called me again on her way home, I could hear the tears in her voice. I will never forget her saying “Aleta, they think it’s pancreatic cancer, and they’ve told your daddy that he only has a year to live.”

Words cannot describe what I felt at that very moment.

People often ask me, “How did they find it?” Like a majority of cases, they found my daddy’s too late. His had already spread to his liver by the time they found it. At that point, there was nothing that they could do. Chemo would only be a manner in which to prolong his life, it would never cure the cancer.

Here is what my daddy experienced: He lost a major amount of weight; he had pain in his right abdominal side; he got very sick when he ate; and I can remember him sitting in his recliner with his shirt off and actually seeing a lump on the right-side of his stomach. All of these can be symptoms of problems with your gallbladder, which is precisely why they didn’t catch it quicker...as daddy said, “Everyone at the hospital, including the janitor, told me it was my gallbladder.”

Watching a man that you thought could conquer the world go from being a very robust, active man become a very pained shell of the person that he was is a very hard process. I will say here that pancreatic cancer is a very painful cancer. Dad couldn’t eat, couldn’t even stomach the smell of food, he couldn’t get comfortable sitting. His liver was so swollen that when they went to put in his feeding tube, they said that he wasn’t able to eat because his liver was literally pressing on his stomach. I won’t get into all that we faced, but it was very, very difficult. Nothing...Nothing prepares you to hear your daddy telling the doctors “I just want to live...I just want to live.” 

I pray to God that one day they find a cure. For now, the only hope they really have is early detection and the Whipple Procedure. I pray the find answers in the upcoming years. I never want another family to face what we went through. Pancreatic cancer just sucks.

Not-So-Wordy Wednesday: "My Houses"

This isn't the greatest of all photos...I took it from the median....like the crazy person that I am. Ha!

Okay...so I have been crazy about these houses for the last several years.  I love them.  Every time I drive over to Ocala, I always have to take a gander and see how "my houses" are doing.  Lol.  A few years ago, they were both up for sale.  Upon calling the realtor, I was shocked to find that they were selling both homes for a total of $200,000 (for $200,000 you got both homes).  While I loved the houses, I wondered if you could move one of them.  (While I love that area, living over between Williston and Ocala surely didn't suit).  Alas, you couldn't.  They were to be sold almost as a main house and mother in law house...even though they were the same size practically.  They have been sold now, and so I s'pose I will have to just love them from afar.

But seriously...how cute are they?!

Hands

Your hands were probably shaking the first time they held me. Your hands so large and calloused, and I was merely a seven pound-two ounce baby. My whole hand could wrap around just one of your fingers. You were probably scared you would drop me, or that I would somehow break. Although scared, you beamed with pride. This was the life that you'd helped create. I was the daughter that you'd prayed for and wanted.

A few years later, you held my hand as you and mom walked me into kindergarten. You probably asked yourself, "How could five years have passed so quickly?" You were having to trust someone else to care for me from 8 to 3, and that was probably one of the hardest things you'd had to do up until that point.

Your hands were there to hold me as I was learning to swim, and was scared of going under the water. Your hands were there to push me as I was learning how to ride a bike for the first time. Your hands were on the dashboard as you were stomping the imaginary brake as you rode shotgun as I was learning to drive, and you were trying not to yell…too much.

I remember your hand patting me on the back, after I'd gotten my High School diploma, a silent message of "I love you and am so proud of you." The same was true, the day I received my Bachelor's diploma in the mail.

My hands were shaking as they were holding yours in your last days. Repeating "I love you" and "It's okay" as if it were my mantra. No words spoken could have ever encompassed all that I needed them to.  How grateful I was to have you as my father, how grateful I was to have shared all of those memories with you. No amount of wishing could stop time those last few days.   And no amount of time would have ever been long enough.  I stood, holding your hand, wishing away the inevitable. Now, oh how I long to hold your hand once more.

Mama Says Monday: Payday Bars

I love all things peanut: peanut butter, boiled peanuts, roasted peanuts, and Nutter Butter cookies. You get the picture. I am the daughter of a farmer that grew peanuts. This weekend a neighboring town had a peanut festival. So, in honor of that, and my love of peanuts, I’m giving you one of my favorite, really easy recipes.

PAYDAY BARS

1 (16 0z) container dry roasted peanuts
3 TBSP
1 bag peanut butter chips
1 can sweetened condensed milk
2 cups miniature marshmallows

Spray a 9X13 inch pan with PAM. Pour ½ of the peanuts over bottom of pan. Place butter, chips and condensed milk in a microwaveable bowl and cook for about 1 minute. Stir. If chips aren’t melted, cook for 15 seconds and stir again. Continue until chips are melted. Add marshmallows and cook for about 15 seconds. Stir. You don’t want the marshmallows completely melted. Pour mixture over peanuts in pan. Sprinkle the rest of the peanuts on top and pat down. Chill then cut into bars. The whole process should take less than 10 minutes before chilling time. ENJOY!!!

Diary Of A Mad Fat Girl

A few years ago, I was introduced to a writer by the name of Stephanie McAfee. She wrote the book “Diary Of A Mad Fat Girl.” Y’all, with a name like that, how could I pass it up? I quickly fell in love.

She was writing about us….All of us sassy, Southern girls! If I have been compared to Ace Jones (her novel’s heroine), I have been several times. But truthfully, I feel like all of my friends can find a common thread there. Ace Jones is chock full of Southern sass, and her misadventures will have you laughing so hard your sides hurt!

Stephanie McAfee then followed her debut novel with “Happily Ever Madder” and “Down and Out in Bugtussle.” These novels will also have you in stitches!

Well, in the past year or so, I haven’t heard too much from Stephanie McAfee…So, imagine my surprise when I opened my Facebook a few days ago, and she had shared a photo of her upcoming novel. On December 26, 2017, “Lord Help Us All” will be released. It is the next of the Ace Jones adventure.

I’m giving y’all the heads up early, so that you can get caught up prior to its release! These books need to be on your Fall reading list!

Celebrating Cornbread

I always post this on my dad's birthday.

Rather than having a blog post that talks about how much I miss him, and Lord knows I miss him, I thought this would be a great time to do a compilation of his funny quotes, and his funny stories. I will add a little disclaimer about some of the pictures...as you will notice, many of the pictures I post are of him without a shirt. He did, in fact, own shirts, lol, he just preferred not to wear them when lounging around at home. So if my pictures offend you, I’m sorry.

So here goes:

Cornbread on driving:

“If you wouldn’t have had your radio up that loud, you wouldn’t have had that flat tire.”

“If you drive 45 mph everywhere, you’ll save on gas.”

“Aleta, in the last two weeks you got a speeding ticket and hit a parked car...that doesn’t speak too well does it?”

(Talking about a certain somebody driving a porta-potty truck): “She drives that shit truck like it’s a firetruck headed to a fire!”

His favorite story about his slow driving: “There I was, driving the inmate van to Itchetucknee, and we went through the School Zone. That crossing guard always hated to see me coming. The school zone was 15 mph, so of course I went 5. There that lady stood, waving her hands for me to go faster, yelling “keep going, c’mon!” The inmates just laughed.

Now, if any of y’all ever got behind my dad while driving, you’d have known it... He was one of the only people that could make church members cuss both going to and coming from church. And Lord knows you didn’t pass him. I did once. I had had it. He was going 30 the whole way home, I’m sure just for my benefit, and I’d just had it. So I sped past him... which led to this statement when he made it home: “Aleta, you drive like a bat outta hell.” What? Because I went the 55 speed limit? :)

Cornbread on idiots:

“He’s not the sharpest knife in the tool shed.”

Cornbread on Dental Hygiene:

While watching his favorite show “Hee-Haw” one night on tv, he took out his dentures and started cleaning them. As I watched him eyeing his teeth, he looked over at me and said “My God, I think I’ve got a cavity.”

If you can’t say anything nice, come sit by Cornbread:

We used to have a lady, (bless her heart), that we were around that thought she could sing. The only real way I can describe the voice is: Tammy Wynette on crack. Well, dad, any time this lady would get up to sing, would look over to my cousin’s wife, Jodi. And she’d try as hard as she could not NOT look at him. And just as soon as she did, those big eyes of his would near ‘bout roll back in his head. I must say here, that I’ve nearly got “that” look down-pat now ;)

After Easter service, as soon as he walked in the door: “That ugly little girl made fun of my overalls. Hell, you’d have to tie a pork chop around her neck to get the dog to play with her...and she made fun of my overalls.”

“She’s good people. She’s a burnt out pothead, but she’s good people.”

Honesty IS the best policy:

We had an Evangelist visit our church multiple times. Now, dad was not the fondest of this man, and normally, if he knew he was coming, dad would just go to Sunday School and then head home...but he actually sat through his sermon one Sunday. Towards the end of the service, the Evangelist asked the congregation who was planning to come back that Sunday evening. A majority of the church dutifully raised their hands. Then, the Evangelist asked the congregation who was planning not to attend that evening. I looked over at dad, as he was hard to miss, as he raised his hand high towards the heavens, the only hand raised in the whole congregation. Nope, he sure wasn’t planning on coming back that evening.

Cornbread on the War on Drugs:

During a dinner party...with church-going family friends...in the middle of dinner....out of the blue: “You know...we just need to legalize marijuana...I mean, we’re just losin’ this whole war on drugs.”

Cornbread on alcohol:

At the New Year’s Eve party at my Aunt’s house, to Jarrod who was pouring him sparkling grape juice: “Now, this doesn’t have any alcohol in it, right? I don’t want to get drunk.”

Someone told him that a sip or two of wine might help when he woke up with muscle cramps, so we had some in the house. He tried this trick, he had maybe two sips. Here was the conversation that ensued the next morning:

Mom: “So, Jackie, did the wine help the cramps last night?”

Dad: “Not really, it just made me drunk.”

Cornbread on healthcare:

To a nurse, after he’d been kept on a liquid diet for two days: “I know what y’all are doin’...y’all are gettin’ me all slim and trim so I’m casket sharp.”

After giving the stink eye to a nurse, after dad was returned to his room after a minor surgery: “Cindi, you would not believe where they had me!! You would not believe where they did my surgery. They had me in the woodshed out back.”

Walking in one morning to one mad Cornbread...sitting there with his arms crossed, his eyes rolling.....

“Dad, did you sleep okay?”

(insert eyeroll)

“Hell no. They put me in here with him (as he points to his roommate), and he had his tv going wide ass open all night.”

Cornbread on Politics:

“You know who I’m writing in on my ballot? Willie Nelson. He’d get rid of the IRS and he’d legalize marijuana.”

Cornbread on a balanced diet:

“I need to start eating better. I do. (As he sorts through the plate put in front of him) Now, who wants this banana. I don’t want that crap.”

“I don’t like grape popsicles. They make me burp.”

Cornbread on Foreigners:

“You know those people from England that can’t speak good English?”

Cornbread on Religion:

This conversation happened while awaiting surgery, to determine whether he would accept a blood transfusion if needed:

Nurse: “Sir, are you Jehovah’s Witness?”

Dad: “Hell no! I’m Baptist.”

Cornbread on phone etiquette:

I cannot tell you how many times in my life I’ve heard my dad answer the phone “Well, hey you big dummy.”

To telemarketers:

“Don’t you ever call our house and wake me up on a Saturday again!”

“Hell no, we’re not interested.”

When the Pizza Hut Delivery man hadn’t come within an hour’s time, on the phone with Pizza Hut:

“Well, thank God that boy wasn’t driving an Ambulance.”

Cornbread on Work Ethic:

“I lovvvvve my job.” (I think that this one...by far...was his favorite saying, ever.)

Truth be told, my daddy provided me the funniest material to write with. For those of you that were blessed enough to be around him, you knew how funny he was. There are so many things, so many funny memories that pop into my mind every day. My mom, Rheba and I were truly blessed to be “Jackie’s Girls.” He brightened our lives with his dramatic flair and always put a crazy spin on any situation. I miss him terribly, but you know what? Laughter has always been what got me through anything hard. This year on his birthday, I want to celebrate his life, not mourn our loss. I want to laugh at his memory. I want to remember him in his best possible form.

If you have any funny memories, I encourage you to post them. I would love to read them!

Despicable

I was hot, though it was cool and breezy outside.

If I had been a cartoon, I would have been depicted red-faced with steam billowing out of my ears.

I had never met a more maddening, insufferable, impossible man in all of my days.

I'd had my fill…My last nerve had been worked.  And he was about to get one hell of an earful!!

So, there we stood, in the midst of God and everyone, glaring at each other in the middle of the parking lot.  My mother would have been so proud.  You weren't supposed to fight, but Lord knows, if you did...you had the grace to do it behind closed doors.

"You are a despicable human being, you know?" I said haughtily.

"A what?" He asked.

"You're. A. Despicable. Human. Being," I said.  Sounding out each word as if he were hard of hearing.

"A what?" He asked, seemingly confused.

I didn't even bothering answering that time, I just shook my hands in the air in frustration.

"I don't understand," he said.

"What? What don't you understand?"

"Aleta, if we're going to have this argument, you need to at least use words I know. I don't even know what despicable means."

I stared at him blankly, blinking my eyes.  

"You don't know what despicable means?" I asked incredulously, thinking full well he was pulling my leg.

"Nope," he replied straight-faced with a shrug.

"It means you're a horrible person...You're a horrible person!" I said loudly.

He smiled. And then I knew.  He'd known what I'd meant all along. He was trying to diffuse the ticking time bomb that was my temper.

I frowned back at him. But all of the frustration--all the anger--had washed away.

He continued to smile, his eyes bright. He was watching me cave.

I couldn't keep a straight face.  I cracked.  At first I giggled, then the giggle turned into a side-splitting belly laugh.

"You're such a dork," I said.

"Yeah, but you love me."

I just looked at him. There was no denying that statement.

Traditions

Lil Farmers 4-H Club's display

I will not be having a Saturday in the South post this week, as October 7th marks another very special and bittersweet day for the Sheffield girls.  So, I decided to brighten your day with something that blesses my heart every single year.  Every year, around October 1st, the Gilchrist County Courthouse lawn is decorated with creative displays by local 4-H groups.

Wilcox 4-H Club's display

Now, I'm a big fan of 4-H.  I was in 4-H from 8-18, held several offices, including District President my senior year.  There were so many opportunities offered through 4-H, that I took part in and learned so much from....State Congress, Florida Legislation, 4-H National Competitions, just to name a few.  There is far more to 4-H than just being a route for showing an animal in the Suwannee River Fair, though I know that that is important to so many (don't get me wrong).

Gator Country 4-H Club's display

Every year, my heart beams with pride and delight upon seeing all the creations that the 4-H clubs come up with.  I hope you guys will enjoy them as much as I do!  I am so proud of these kids!

---

**Author's Note:  I took pictures of every single display.  However, I could not get my email to cooperate at all last night.  And although I sent them to my email several times, I could never get the other photos to turn up in my email.  I do apologize.  Every exhibit was wonderful and so very creative!  I am so very proud of all of the 4-Hers that participated!**

Not So Wordy Wednesday

This week marks my dad's birthday.  A few weeks ago in cleaning out Mom's room, we stumbled across pictures, as I'd mentioned.  One of my dad's favorites things in this world were Bloodhounds.  The wrinklier, the better!  So what better Not So Wordy Wednesday post than a picture of one of his very wrinkly bloodhounds? I think this may have been "Cap," but truthfully, all these years later, I'm just not sure.

Rain

Photo found on Pinterest

It's Sunday, and the rain is falling outside. I am laying in my bed, all covered up, just listening to the raindrops fall.

There are a million things that I need to do, but I have no desire to get up and get to work. No movement is made. I am deliciously stuck in this moment.

To get up would be to leave this moment of simple perfection, and I am just not willing to give it up just yet.

So, here I lay in the quiet serenity…relishing every contented minute that passes. My eyes are shut, but I do not sleep. A small smile is on my face.

The rain soothes my soul. Washes away the clutter from my brain. Cleanses the day ahead.

So there I lie…listening to and enjoying every precious rain drop.