Pineapple Ranch Dip

With the Texas heat (76 days over 100 degrees, y'all!!!), it's hard to get motivated to cook - any recipe that involves heat automatically sounds repulsive. So, I've been trying to be creative about using recipes that involve little to no cooking. (Take out, anyone??)  Salsas and dips become the logical choice for sides.

I don't remember where I found this dip recipe, but it's a favorite.  It seems "summerish" since it has pineapple, but I make it year 'round!

Pineapple Ranch Dip

Ingredients: 

• 16 ounces cream cheese
• 2 green onions chopped up (may be eliminated if you don't like onions)
• 14 ounces of crushed pineapple undrained (100% juice, not in heavy syrup!)
• 1 package Hidden Valley Ranch Dip
• 2 cups of chopped pecans, reserve 1/4 cup for topping

Directions:
Mix all ingredients together and top with remaining 1/4 cup pecans.  Refrigerate for at least a few hours or overnight. Serve with hearty crackers or pita chips.

For more dip ideas, join BooMama for her DipTacular '11 post today!

I hate school.

(Update:  After taking a beating from some of my teacher friends, please allow me state for the record that I do NOT really hate school.  I actually always loved school and did quite well.  Please... read to the end of the post... you'll get it, I hope!)

Actually… I hate the start of a new school year.

Oh, sure… there’s some exciting elements about it. 

I love buying new school supplies and always find a few that I need want, too.  (New Sharpies, Bic Crystal pens, a planner, and Post-It Notes… anyone else with me here?)  Buying a few new outfits is always fun… and then the repeated fashion shows in attempt to determine which will be the winning outfit to be worn on the first day.

And then there’s the anticipation of new opportunities. New classes with new teachers. New friends and memories just waiting to be made.

A return to routine is kind of nice.  (Any other calendar-keeping, list-making, control freaks agree on this one?)

And yet… I hate the start of a new school year.

I’ve never been one of those mamas who start counting down days ‘til the first day of school on the first day of summer.

(What is wrong with them???) 

I don’t want my children to go back to school.

Of course, I realize that I truly don’t hate the start of a new school year.  I just don’t like giving up the one-on-one time with my children. The unhurried minutes of hanging out at home, the pool, the beach or between the many summer activities.  Activities spent with them.

What do I really hate?

That the first day of the new school year marks the passing of time.  The day symbolizes the marching of time that I can’t stop despite all the control I like to think I wield.  It reminds me of our ever evolving relationship and emphasizes how fast my kids are growing into adults… and the fact that there’s nothing I can do to stop time. Nor would I really, truly want to.

Kat started her sophomore year of high school yesterday.

 And this one?

Today is Burrito’s first day of classes at THE BIG UNIVERSITY.  (Hook ’em!!!)

Signed,

A Slightly Melancholy Mama

(P.S. – A big “thank you” to the group of mamas who met yesterday morning after the school drop-offs for The 7^th Annual Moms’ Back-to-School Breakfast. There’s nothing like copious amounts of coffee, deep discussions, side-splitting laughter and a little retail therapy with “the girls” to lighten a mama’s heart. Each one of you is a very special woman!)

Twenty-one Years Ago Today...

I put frozen spoons on my eyes to counter the effects of very little sleep.  I had been way too excited to sleep.

I wondered what Bud was doing.  It was before the era of cell phones and texting, after all.

I left my bachelorette apartment for the last time as a single woman.

I helped as my family rallied for a last minute decorating party at our reception site.  (A scheduling snafu with the hall had prevented it being done on Friday as we had planned.)

I scrunched and scrunched... and sprayed and sprayed... my hair 'til it couldn't possibly get any bigger.  I was a product of the 80's!

I wondered what Bud was doing.

I dressed in my mother's wedding gown and topped it off with a new veil.

I watched everyone around me - I felt their excitement and drew strength from my parents' calmness.

I was thankful we decided to do pictures before the ceremony - that brief time with Bud calmed the butterflies in my stomach.

I peeked through closed doors to watch our family and friends gather in the beautiful, old chapel.

I wondered what Bud was doing.

I took my Dad's arm and gave a confident "Yes!" to his question, "Are you ready?"

The doors to the chapel swung open wide and we began the short walk.

I saw no one but Bud as I walked down the aisle.

I remember my father's voice as he answered, "Her mother and I" as he placed my hand in Bud's.

I looked deep into Bud's eyes and knew I was following God's plan for my life as I pledged to love Bud "so long as we both shall live."

I love you, Bud!

Happy 21st Anniversary!!!

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." 

(Jeremiah 29:11)

Out of the Mouths of Babes (Or Second Graders)!

(Author Unknown)

Why did God make mothers?
1. She's the only one who knows where the scotch tape is.
2. Mostly to clean the house.
3. To help us out of there when we were getting born.

How did God make mothers?
1. He used dirt, just like for the rest of us.
2. Magic plus super powers and a lot of stirring.
3. God made my Mom just the same like he made me. He Just used bigger parts.

What ingredients are mothers made of?
1. God makes mothers out of clouds and angel hair and everything nice in the world and one dab of mean.
2. They had to get their start from men's bones. Then they mostly use string, I think.

Why did God give you your mother and not some other mom?
1. We're related.
2. God knew she likes me a lot more than other people's moms like me.

What kind of little girl was your mom?
1. My mom has always been my mom and none of that other stuff.
2. I don't know because I wasn't there, but my guess would be pretty bossy.
3. They say she used to be nice.

What did mom need to know about dad before she married him?
1. His last name.
2. She had to know his background. Like is he a crook?
3. Does he make at least $800 a year? Did he say NO to drugs and YES to chores?

Why did your Mom marry your dad?
1. My dad makes the best spaghetti in the world. And my Mom eats a lot.
2. She got too old to do anything else with him.
3. My grandma says that Mom didn't have her thinking cap on.

Who's the boss at your house?
1. Mom doesn't want to be boss, but she has to because dad's such a goof ball.
2. Mom. You can tell by room inspection. She sees the stuff under the bed.
3. I guess Mom is, but only because she has a lot more to do than dad.

What's the difference between moms and dads?
1. Moms work at work and work at home, & dads just go to work at work.
2. Moms know how to talk to teachers without scaring them.
3. Dads are taller & stronger, but moms have all the real power 'cause that's who you got to ask if you want to sleep over at your friend's.
4. Moms have magic, they make you feel better without medicine.

What does your Mom do in her spare time?
1. Mothers don't do spare time.
2. To hear her tell it, she pays bills all day long.

What would it take to make your Mom perfect?
1. On the inside she's already perfect. Outside, I think some kind of plastic surgery.
2. Diet. You know, her hair. I'd diet, maybe blue.

If you could change one thing about your Mom, what would it be?
1. She has this weird thing about me keeping my room clean. I'd get rid of that.
2. I'd make my Mom smarter. Then she would know it was my sister who did it and not me.
3. I would like for her to get rid of those invisible eyes on her back of her head.

Happy Mother's Day to my mom... I love you!  And to all the other "moms" in my life - may today be filled with all the people and things that you love!

Going Coconut!!!

Have you heard about this? Have you tried this???

(Photo Credit: Starbucks.com)

Starbucks' newest creation... Mocha Coconut Frappuccino! (Also available as a latte which is what I ordered.)  Their own description:

Rich mocha sauce and coconut-flavored syrup blended with coffee, fresh milk, and ice. Topped with sweetened whipped cream, mocha drizzle and toasted coconut flakes.

Sounds great, right?!

I'd consider asking to be hooked up to an IV drip of this stuff except that would eliminate actually tasting the deliciousness.

(Disclaimer: I have not been compensated for this post and the opinions are completely mine. The people at Starbucks do not know who I am. However, should Starbucks wish to compensate me for my good taste... I'll be glad to accept free lifetime lattes and frappuccinos. Ha ha!)

Confessions: And we laughed!

Thank you to everyone who prayed for me and my family as we said goodbye to Grandma and went through the process of her funeral. Your prayers were answered and felt.

It was a great funeral!

I know, I know... that's kind of a strange thing to say, isn't it? But, the truth is... it was.

And we laughed!

As you'll recall from my earlier post, the pastor conducting the services had never met Grandma and asked all of us to provide him with information about her.  My parents took care of all the "statistics" about where and when she was born, about her parents and siblings, her marriage to my grandfather, and information about her career as a nurse. 

My sister along with our three cousins and I filled him in on the "Grandma tales." If you've been reading my blog for any amount of time I'm sure you've realized that our family has a rather unique sense of humor.  (If you don't know, then read here, here, here or here and you'll understand.)  In other words, we laugh with (and at!) each other. Often.  And Grandma's funeral was no exception. 

The pastor did a wonderful job taking the information from my parents and weaving a story with the memories of the grandchildren. Even the funny ones. Stories like the one provided by my cousin Shannon about the time Grandma got so tickled by the television show she was watching that she flipped over her rocking recliner chair and pinned herself between it and the wall while she continued to laugh and yell for help.  Of course, all of us stood around laughing at her.  (I think my grandfather was the one to finally help her.)

And we laughed!

The laughter continued after the funeral and graveside service.  The church hosted a wonderful meal for our family.  I had grown up in this church but had not been there since I was in high school so it was fun to explore the church building and even discover that some of the ladies preparing the meal remembered me, and I them. During this meal our family members got to talking about how much we enjoyed the funeral service and that we thought Grandma would have been pleased, too.

And we laughed!

That conversation led us to discussing how we would like our own funerals to be conducted.  For instance, my Dad insists that he does not want his casket to be open so that no one is able to talk about how bad he looks.  My uncle piped in at that point and informed us that he does want his casket open and hopes that everyone will discuss how bad he looks: "I'll be dead - I'm not supposed to look good!"

And we laughed!

My Aunt Hilma is an artist and crafter.  She wants all of her works put on display at her funeral.  We all decided that we could help my uncle out by turning the display into a sale. (Funerals are expensive, you know!)

And we laughed!

My sister, Victoria (known by all of us as "the dramatic one") insists that we hire professional mourners for her funeral.  All of us are to dress in black - veils required - and hold a New Orleans-style funeral with the procession and all.  Cue the sad, sad music.

And we laughed!

I told them that there was to be no SAD at my funeral. Tell the funny stories. Laugh at my expense.  And the family dinner afterward?  Make it a fiesta, complete with an authentic Mexican meal (someone, please call my friend Brenda - she makes the best rice, beans and tamales!) and hire a good mariachi band. Lots and lots of happy music.

And we laughed!

All praise to God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. It is by his great mercy that we have been born again, because God raised Jesus Christ from the dead. Now we live with great expectation, and we have a priceless inheritance—an inheritance that is kept in heaven for you, pure and undefiled, beyond the reach of change and decay. And through your faith, God is protecting you by his power until you receive this salvation, which is ready to be revealed on the last day for all to see.

So be truly glad. There is wonderful joy ahead, even though you have to endure many trials for a little while. These trials will show that your faith is genuine. It is being tested as fire tests and purifies gold—though your faith is far more precious than mere gold. So when your faith remains strong through many trials, it will bring you much praise and glory and honor on the day when Jesus Christ is revealed to the whole world.

You love him even though you have never seen him. Though you do not see him now, you trust him; and you rejoice with a glorious, inexpressible joy. The reward for trusting him will be the salvation of your souls.

I Peter 1:3-9 (NLT)

Goodbye, Gram!

Kat, Burrito and Gram, 2003

 My last, living grandmother passed away early this morning after years of suffering the effects of Alzheimer's disease.  Gram knew Christ as her personal savior so we rejoice in knowing where she is today!

Gram has not been able to attend her church for about ten years now.  Since then, the church has had a few new pastors - none of which know Gram or her life. Because of that, my Dad asked all of us grandkids to tell a few things that will give the pastor a good feel of who she was to us. 

So, here are a few of the memories that immediately came to my mind...

She always made me believe I was pretty - backed by the fact that she liked to have my portrait made. And, she called me Princess - from as early as I can remember right up through as long as she knew me.

She was a nurse. I always thought it was cool that my grandma worked in our family doctor's office and was there when I went for appointments. Didn't everyone's grandma do that and give them pretzel sticks before they left???

She was always agreeable to a sleepover for all five of us grandkids – all of us at once! She was usually the one to ask us, but I also don't ever remember her saying "no" if we asked.

She never cared what we did in the basement - from roller skating, to laying on our tummies to slide into our "secret clubhouse" under the basement stairs, to playing dress up with the clothes (including nurses uniforms) stored down there. She didn't fuss at us when we would swing around the poles - even though it made a horrible noise for anyone upstairs to hear.  (Okay, so maybe she would fuss after hours of that noise.)

She always had money ready for us to walk to the icecream stand for icecream cones.

She loved dogs - I can't ever remember a time that she didn't have one. Cocker Spaniels, in particular.

She loved to tell stories about growing up in Alabama and her family. Even though we suspect some of the stories might possibly have been ever so slightly exaggerated. But just slightly, of course.

She loved gospel music and singing. She sang in church in her growing up years.  I think she regretted the surgery that messed up her singing voice.

We always spent Christmas Eve at her house and even though she wasn't a baker, she always had a huge tray of Christmas cookies that she'd purchased from a local bakery - I always thought that was so "fancy."

During a sleepover with all five of us grandkids, she'd ask if we wanted to go out to eat. Of course, we'd say "yes!" - and then she'd have Grandad take us to McDonald's or Wendy's with instructions to bring something back for her. In hindsight - that was one smart cookie to get us all out of her house like that! Ha!

I don't ever remember Grandma telling us "no" when we asked for anything, including money. Probably to her detriment.

Grandma loved greeting cards - the bigger, fancier and sappier the better. To this day, I can't see a card that says, "What is a Grandmother" or "What is a Granddaughter" or "What is a [fill in the blank]" without thinking of her with a chuckle.

She liked to get her nails done and always wore bright polish. I never recall her wearing pastel colors - always a red or coral - dark mauves were about as neutral as it got. As a little girl, those colors always seemed to be slightly "scandalous" for a grandmother to wear. Maybe it's through her that I came by my love of a good, regular manicure!

I was quite an older child before I realized that Gram's red hair was not her natural color. Before I understood "color from a bottle," it worried me that my hair would turn that color, too, because she once told me, "I wasn't born with this hair color" which translated to me that it had just spontaneously changed one day!

Fond memories!

Me and Gram, Summer 2005

Me, Dad and Gram, Christmas 2005

"And this is what God has testified: He has given us eternal life, and this life is in his Son. Whoever has the Son has life; whoever does not have God’s Son does not have life." (I John 5:11-12)