Amazing Grace and the Mall Cop

Once upon a time there was a girl. She was kind, generous and loving. And uncommonly good-looking. To make it easier, (easier than calling her "Sarah: Short and Gorgeous") we'll just call her Sarah.

Sarah had a part-time job and a brand-new driver's license. She'd use any and every excuse to hit the open road, even when it included chauffeuring her younger sisters all around town.

Sarah loved to spend time with her sisters. They'd go to the mall together and get iced coffees from the Beanery (Sarah's treat, of course) and window shop and try on shoes and people watch and evade creepy guys. An all-around good time.

Sarah had a younger sister whom we'll call Patti.

One day after a nice, long mall excursion, Sarah and Patti found themselves at a stoplight next to a creepy guy. Creepy Guy revved his engine, drawing looks from both sisters. Sarah, never one to turn down a challenge, revved back. So what if she was in her parents mini-van? She would have this guy eating her dust in record time. Creepy guy grinned: challenge given, challenge accepted.

The light changed and Sarah floored it. The V6 roared, the van devoured the intersection and raced on towards victory. And yes, creepy guy was left behind to sit and cry. And gloat, as it turns out.

Cue the blue lights and siren. Cops! Sarah toyed with and rejected the idea of making a run for it. As much as she loved and trusted the minivan, she feared her parent's wrath more. She slowly pulled over. Creepy guy eased past, smirking. Curses!

Nervously awaiting the policeman and her fate, Sarah turned off the radio and readied her license and registration. Patti, ever a quick thinker, turned the radio back on and found a Christian music station playing hymns. What better time for Amazing Grace than now!

It seemed to take forever, but the policeman finally arrived at the window, face inscrutable behind his dark glasses.

"Ma'am, what was that?"

Sarah stammered something unintelligible.

In the passenger seat, Patti began to sing, putting on her best Southern hacking preacher voice. "Through many dangers, toils and snares I have already coooooome..."

Mall Cop, looking bewildered, now stares openly at Patti. Was she demented? In shock? What is going on?

Patti sang louder. "Tis grace that brought me safe thus far and grace will lead me hoooooome."

Mall Cop is dumbstruck.

Patti gives the song all she's got. "The Lord has promised good to me. His word my hope secuuuuuuuures! He will my shield and portion be, as long as life endures!!!"

Mall Cop walks away without another word. Halfway to his car he seems to remember himself and mumbles, "Slow it down, Ma'am." No ticket, no lecture, no threats or promises of justice.

Saved by Amazing Grace.

My new favorite song.

Left alone by the police but Patti still felt the need to share the story with their parents, who were not pleased. Not pleased at all.

The moral of the story: You can get away with anything if your little sister's a little loopy.

Such a place really does exist!

There is a place. A lovely place where lovely things happen. Putt-putt golf, batting cages, bounce houses. And also, not so lovely things. Things like a girl whomping the pants off her father in a long-awaited air hockey match. Things like this same girl yelling in triumph for the entire state of Michigan to hear and wonder. Things like this girls mother (and this father's wife) taking pictures documenting this sad, sad day. Pirate's Park: A place where dreams come true. Well, for me at least.

The date: not so long ago.

The place: a near-neglected, disrepaired shack in Flint-town

The extras: Mom, devoted photographer of family feuds
Becky, apathetic sister, along for the ride
Kaeden, loving nephew, always roots for Aunt Sarah (and most determined giver of wet willies I've ever known.)
Mr. X, Park proprietor and all-around nice guy.

Here's what went down.

Though my dear father tried his level best to cheat (I had to REPEATEDLY tell him to "get your hand off the table before I break your fingers with the force of my awesomeness") I beat him fair and square with witnesses. Let the record show. Let the people hear and rejoice:

I AM VICTORIOUS!

And I thought I was a sore loser. He's already demanded a rematch (what's this now, best 51 out of 100?)

Oh, and plus? While my dad distracted Mr. X, Becky and I played on the bouncy things. Sorry, Mr. X! I know you said no adults allowed but we just couldn't resist!

Beans, beans the musical fruit...

This is almost a guest post from my lovely and talented mom, but not quite. You see, she was recently at my house for a visit and made me this delicious bean soup (and homemade bread!) while I was at work and was kind enough to take pictures so I'd know how to make it myself. Sooner or later she's going to make her own blog, but for now, I'll just steal her recipes and claim them as my own.

Mom's Bean Soup

Get beans. Navy ones. Dump into a pot and cover with cold water. Bring to a boil and cook for 15 minutes. Mom's mom says this "gets the gas out." Mmm-hmm.

Drain beans, dump into a bowl and cover with cold water. Allow them to soak overnight. The water may turn funny colors. Fear not!

Put drained beans in a pot with fresh water and add some cubed ham and chicken broth and carrots and salt.

Simmer, simmer, simmer til the beans are soft and the carrots are done.

Eat, dunking in fresh and delicious bread to scoop up the beany goodness.

A Question. And an update, too.

Is my brother-in-law's wife my sister-in-law?

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You may have noticed that I was gone for a while. Here's what I've been up to.

My parents came for a visit! Yay, parents! I whooped my dad at Wii Tennis yet again. Are you surprised? Also. Bean soup and fresh bread. Yum.

Steven's brother, Chris and Chris's wife, Amanda had their second baby. Welcome to the planet, Landin!

Steven's grandpa passed away, prompting a quick trip to Michigan. I knew him to be a good man. The first time I met him, he had my shy little introverted self sitting on his lap within about five minutes. He always remembered who I was even though we only got to see each other once or twice a year. I'll never forget his cry of "Sarah!" when I walked into his house after his wife died. That and his pipe. That ever-present, sweet smelling pipe.

Mini Thanksgiving dinner with the family. A lovely time.

My dad and I found a real, live, honest-to-goodness air hockey table! Yes, really! You've have to wait for the pictures of that blessed event. Mom?

Roughhousing with the nieces and nephews. Macaroni necklaces, sword fights and Little Shop of Horrors. Good times.

I am now officially...

...the fattest I've ever been.

I've come to a conclusion. Life is too short to worry about dieting. I eat good food that is healthy and I also eat good food that is not so healthy. Chocolate and cheese and cream and pastry...

I cook meals from scratch six nights a week, bake my own bread, delight in new recipes and covet kitchen gadgets.

When I get to Heaven I'll be perfect and that's good enough for me.

In this vein, I present to you:

Sea Salt Frozen Custard

Stolen from recipezaar.com and tweaked for your pleasure.

2 eggs
2 c milk
1/3 cup sugar
1 tsp vanilla
1 c heavy whipping cream
sea salt (a coworker gave me a ton of French Grey sea salt and I am just loving it!)

Slowly bring the milk to a boil over medium heat, stirring occasionally.

Meanwhile, separate the eggs into two good sized bowls.

Mix the egg yolks and sugar until light and frothy. Slowly, slowly, slowly pour the hot milk into the mixture. I'm talking a teaspoon at a time, folks, unless you want scrambled eggs.

Pour milk/yolk/sugar mixture back into pot and heat on medium until it thickens, stirring often. Do Not Let It Boil!

Beat the egg whites until stiff.

Slowly fold mixture into beaten egg whites.

Add sea salt to taste. I used about 1 1/2 tsp for that lovely salty-sweet flavor.

Put mixture in fridge to cool.

Once cool, add cream and vanilla.

Freeze, following your ice cream maker’s instructions.

If you don't have an ice cream maker pour mixture into 1 or 2 metal cake pans and set in freezer. Let sit until edges become firm, then remove and mix. Repeat until uniformly frozen.

Eat. It's delicious, especially when you add a little honey on top.

One of these leaves is not like the others...

I posted this photo in my last post. It contains a (devious) frog which has (deviously) disguised itself as a leaf. Okay, look closely. See it? No? Look really closely. Come on, get closer. Nose to monitor. See it?



Give up?

Okay look again.



There it is! Slimy little punk.

Que Sarah Sarah: home to games like find the frog since 2008.

Upon my death...

I'm a little torn about how I should dispose of my body upon my death. I would like to donate my body to science. I'm also an organ and tissue donor and so I'm hoping there won't be much left to donate. Whatever little blobs of me are left should be cremated and then tossed in a compost heap somewhere.

It all depends, of course, on the manner of my death.

If I am killed by a heart attack brought on by my stepping on a frog and having it's guts squish between my toes, it's a whole 'nother story. My feet would have to be cut off, sealed into a bucket of hand sanitizer and then dropped into a cement mixer which will then be driven into the Pacific Ocean and never recovered. So sorry to the person waiting on a foot transplant.

What is up with these suicidal frogs, anyway? They lay in wait, disguised as leaves and leap out just as I'm walking past. They wait til my cars headlights are bright as the sun and then hop into the middle of the street to await their fate.

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Oh and also? Paper clips. Do the ones on the bottom get upset since they rarely get used? Or maybe the ones on the top feel they need a break. No really. This is something I really think about. So I vote that once a month we all do Paperclip Rotation Day and just mix things up a little. That way everybody's happy. Or at least I am.

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Picture stolen from Wikimedia...there's a frog hiding in there. Really, there is! Find it!!!

Wii Tennis Tournament

This has been a long time coming.

In case you've been living in a hole or something, my dad and I have an ongoing air hockey tournament. We were supposed to play during my last trip to Michigan, but were unable to find a table. So we settled on Wii Tennis. Which is just the same, dontchaknow.

Just so you know, the air hockey thing is going to last forever. Whoever the current "loser" is is always going to want a rematch, so look forward to hearing about air hockey adventures for a good long while.

Ahem.

Here are some photos from MY RECENT VICTORY! Woot! I kicked his butt from Michigan to Timbuktu! Oh, um what I meant to say was: we had a jolly time of good competition and mutual respect. A grand old time was had by all persons involved.

Ok, so here are the pics.



Pic # 1 shows us just getting started. See how nicely we're smiling? Notice my "team-player" behavior? Yes, pic # 2 is my victory dance, how could you tell? He didn't cry. Too loudly. In pic # 3 I believe I was accused of cheating. Pic # 4 shows my reaction to said accusation.

Christmas is coming soon, Dad. Bring on the air hockey!!!

...and the angels sang...

So I'm very interested in "old-fashioned" recipes lately. A few weeks ago I overheard a fella talking about his grandmas "Burnt Caramel" cake and was instantly intrigued. A little research led me here, where Suzanne creates lovely recipes, including this one (and she loves church ladies, too!):

This, my dears, is sugar in a skillet. Such a simple thing and yet somehow yields a flavor so incredibly indescribably delicious that your taste buds will leap for joy.

It's melting...melting, oh, what a world...

Now the sugar's completely melted and dancing a jig in the skillet with the water. This is the really yummy part.

Flash forward a little and you get this:

and then you get a full belly and an empty plate, but those are things better left unseen.

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Suzanne McMinn's Burnt Sugar Cake
1 1/3 cup sugar
1 1/3 cup hot water
3 c flour
2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
3/4 c butter
1 1/2 c sugar
2 egg yolks
2 egg whites, beaten until fluffy (soft peaks)
1/2 c burnt sugar syrup
1 tsp vanilla
1 c water (minus 1 tsp)
3/4 c milk

Melt sugar over medium-low heat. Add hot water and stir. Set aside.

Preheat oven to 350. In a large bowl, combine flour, baking powder and salt. Set aside.

In another bowl, cream sugar and butter. Add egg yolks and stir. Add syrup, vanilla, water and milk and stir. Gently fold in egg whites.

Pour batter into 2 greased 9-inch round cake pans. Bake 25-30 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted near the center comes out clean. Cool in the pan 10 minutes and then turn out onto a cooling rack. Cool completely. Frost with burnt sugar icing:

16 oz powdered sugar
2/3 - 3/4 c burnt sugar syrup (whatever you've got left)
1/4 c butter
1 tsp vanilla

Combine all ingredients and stir until smooth.

Share completed cake at church potluck and watch all those lovely church ladies (and church fellas) instantly transported back to days of their grandmas...

The Run

Me and my ten year old shoes. Broke in, broke down, falling apart.

Me and Bill* walkjogrun, leaving behind ringing telephones, piles of dishes, dirty laundry, questions and demands of a busy day.

Copper beetles congregate under the lampposts at each corner. I crush them, oblivious til their little bodies crunch under my feet. Stray cats run for their lives and tremble in my wake.

She, the germaphobe, sweats to the oldies and sometimes Roald Dahl comes along for a quick constitutional. James and the Giant Peach, The BFG, Fantastic Mr. Fox: the gang's all here.

Just me and the harvest moon and constellations I can't name but I still know like long lost friends.

Breathless, wheezing, exhausted but somehow rejuvenated.

----*Bill Withers, that is, cause ain't no sunshine when I'm gone.