Sorry, I've been lost in "Southern Living."

Not living in the South, but Southern Living.

Ahhh ... Southern Living. It's the magazine I can't do without.

I do get other magazines ... like, Better Homes and Gardens, which is a close second.

But, let's face it, people, Southern Living laughs in the face of Better Homes and Gardens, or any other magazine for that fact.

I live vicariously through this magazine.

When I open up this masterpiece of a magazine, I am transported to how life could be if I were (a) crafty, (b) a gardener, (c) a gourmet chef, and (d) had tons of money to spend on either of these aspects of my life.

Case in point:

The cake on the cover.

Looks delicious, doesn't it? Southern Living does have some of the best recipes I've ever tried. And, the photos of these dishes are spectacular and make you think you could create such stunning, delightful fare.

However, when you look at the recipe, you see a small problem. The recipe takes up two entire pages. Two. Whole. Pages. From top to bottom. Seriously?

Don't believe me? Check here, which is the link for the cake only, not the whipped ganache filling, or the seven-minute frosting, or the candied oranges. Just the cake.

I can say with great certainty that I will not be making this cake. But, I will be making homemade turkey pot pie tonight, with Pillsbury crust, not homemade. And, with canned mixed vegetables, not raw, cooked, chopped vegetables.

And, I also won't be crafting a centerpiece this extravagant. One candle will have to do.
And, seriously ... homemade napkin rings? Who has time for that?
I think this might be a conspiracy against all women. Is Southern Living conspiring against us? Is Southern Living trying to make women feel inadequate because they bake with cake mixes and use paper towels as napkins? Boo, Southern Living. Boo.

But, oh, how I love you.

And, how I wish I could do all of those things in your magazines, while living in one of your showcase houses.

Darn you, Southern Living.

I hate you, but I love you.

The AARP wants me.

That's what they said in their email.

Membership with them opens up "a whole new world," and they're not talking about flying carpets and princes, but discounts on prescriptions and early-bird specials at Luby's.

Why, of why, do these people insist on dragging me to the grave?

Same thing goes for hair loss formulas.

I even get a daily email from one or more of the different male medications we're so tired of hearing about. Daily. Every. Day.

I am a young, vibrant thirty-something-year-old woman.

Stop it. Just stop.

I'm tired of your emails and information about your products.

But, wait ... I bet these companies got a look at this poster.

That mean, old-looking lady is me. But, what they don't know is that those wrinkles are a product of make-up and some special touches by our graphic artist. Those wrinkles are really not that prominent. Really, they aren't. I don't think. Are they?

Our Christmas production this year is a take-off of the classic story "A Christmas Carol." The twist being that the main character is a woman ... an older, powerful, successful woman. The production is our first attempt at a full musical with all original music. Cool, huh?

I wrote the script not knowing or ever thinking that I would be the one to play the main character. But, that's not what happened. Not sure why I was thought of for this role. I'm nice, kind, compassionate ... whatever.

This is quite a stretch for me because I am not an actress. Yes, I can be overly dramatic, but that's a little different.

I am definitely outside of my comfort zone and, at times, feel sick to my stomach.

You know how hard it is to watch a movie when the actors are bad, right? That's what gives me the knot in my stomach.

I pray that people are able to look past my acting skills or God turns me into Meryl Streep soon ... very soon. And, I pray that the Message will be clear no matter what.

I think I see the resemblance.

I could hold off the girls no longer. I was tired of hearing La Petite Belle's, "Can we put up the tree? When can we put up the tree? Are we putting up the tree today? Can we put up the tree?" over and over and over again.

The decorations had already made it out of the attic early due to a video-prop search earlier in the week. The boxes only sat for a few days, but the nagging was incessant.

I , being the happy-go-lucky spirit that I am, and because I love Christmas so much, was happy to oblige.

However, when I mentioned it to Beau, he had this expression.

His response, "It's not even Thanksgiving yet." Then, he tried to establish some sort of standard or rule about not decorating until after Thanksgiving. I, on the other hand, would rather do absolutely nothing and recover from my tryptophan overdose. Who has energy to lug boxes around and hang lights after a day of (funny, I was going to say consummation, but that obviously doesn't work here) overindulging.

After much pleading, we convinced him to help, especially since I am quite vertically challenged.

There the tree is in the background . Notice the look of delight.

Granted, the living room looked like this for quite some time.
But, despite the disarray and the grumpiness, I was filled with Christmas spirit as always.

In the end, the tree was put up, the stockings were hung, the nativity set out, and the wreath placed on the door. Christmas pictures were taken. Egg nog was drunk and "The Grinch" was watched.

It was a good day.

It's the new thing.

Homeless, Crack-Head Barbies:

And, what do homeless, crack-head Barbies store in their car? (Yes, they have a car. I said "homeless," not "carless.")

La Petite Belle was practicing for her desired hairdressing career. I told her she needed to practice a lot more.

I would have preferred "brick house."

And, not "brick wall."

That's what Pearl referred to me as yesterday.

A brick wall.

"Who's Pearl?" You ask.

Pearl is a lovely, white-haired woman, who could have been an older version of the mom from "Little House on the Prairie," equipped with the hands of The Hulk.

She was my massage therapist when I went to use up the gift card Beau and the girls had bought me for Mother's Day. Yes, I know ... what took me so long? Sometimes life just doesn't settle down.

And, when I say "Hulk" hands, I mean it.

I checked that I wanted "firm" pressure on my questionnaire.

Yikes!

There were moments in this one-hour massage that I prayed to the dear Lord that my agony would end quickly. At times, I felt my muscles literally being moved from one side of my bone to the next. Sometimes, I just winced and squeaked. Pearl put a hurtin' on me. In her defense I did say "firm," not knowing "firm" meant "bulldoze."

Pearl said, in her sweet Southern accent, "Rubbing you is like rubbing that brick wall over there. You need some work. You are unbelievably stressed."

Finally, I have proof from an expert. If only massage therapists were seen as doctors.

Her recommendation for me:

Her next bit of advice:

Go home. Take a warm bath. Drink lots of water. Rest and relax the rest of the day. No kids. No work.

Yeah, right.

Here's how it went down.

I know there are two sides to every story.

But, I also happen to know that my side is the right one.

Backtrack with me ... to two years ago ... when La Petite Belle was on a winning soccer team. This team was filled with girls that had been playing soccer together since they were six years old. They were all great friends and loved their coach.

(Soccer ... the early years.)

It was a happy time ...

Until the day that one uber-competitive, arrogant dad decided he wanted to take his daughter and a few other of the better players off the team to start his own super team. Yes, this was seven and eight-year-old girls at the time. Seven and eight-year-olds. Seriously?

This dad was the same dad that screamed at his daughter every game. And, I'm not talking about good screaming like, "Good job," or "Nice try." The other kind.

His daughter cried or stomped her feet every time the game was not going our way.

Well, long story short, La Petite Belle's original coach moved away ...

(A truly, loving great coach.)

... and she went into the draft this fall. She got selected by another team that was also quite a good team.

I was concerned that she might not get to play as much because the team was pretty solid.

Wrong. She has excelled beyond my wildest dreams. This coach has pushed her and really taught her how to handle the ball even better than she did before and with lots of positive reinforcement.

La Petite Belle's team played this nasty coach's team a few weeks ago. This coach screamed like you would not believe and even told his daughter to knock my daughter down. To which I screamed to La Petite Belle to not let that girl knock her down. They were losing. His daughter cried the whole game and had a horrible attitude. It was ridiculous. These are nine-year-old girls. Nine-year-olds.

Well, La Petite Belle played her last game of the season yesterday against that same team.

La Petite Belle's team was undefeated going into this game, so there was a little pressure.

La Petite Belle mentioned she had butterflies in her stomach.

I am happy to say that, despite being knocked down to the ground and being behind at half-time, La Petite Belle scored a goal, which helped her team to tie with the other team.

Because La Petite Belle's team beat the other team once before, their team still remains number one in the league in her age bracket.

They finish out the season undefeated and will be heading to a big tournament the first weekend of December.

La Petite Belle said that this was the best game she ever played and she was right. I had actual heart palpitations nearly every time she had the ball.

Only dilemma we'll be running into is that this new coach will also not be returning and La Petite Belle may have to go into the draft again next fall.

Lord, please do not let her get put on the nasty, mean coach's team.

Oh, and because I've been doing this all weekend (soccer, church, church, church, church, soccer), I wasn't able to cook anything for Linda's "Fall into Flavor." We've eaten nothing but fast food and junk. Boo. But, go on over to get some great recipes.

And, on Friday's post, I've got some thoughts I'll share later once I get through the massive paragraphs ... um, I mean comments.

One Question ... or Maybe Two

What is true Christianity?

Or, what are we called to be as Christians and as the Church?

Your thoughts?

My New Loves

Love #1 - Baby Amelie

My friend, Tiffany, gave me a new baby to hold and play with during the day. There's just something about holding babies that gives you peace. Pure innocence and peace.

Love #2 - Dove Peppermint Bark

(also given to me by my friend, Tiffany)

Run right now to the store and stock up for the whole year.

And, as an added bonus, each chocolate contains tips from Martha Stewart on how to make your holidays a little easier. I had to eat 6 chocolates to get a good tip for you all. "Dress packages in candy stripes for a sweet presentation." -Martha Stewart That was the best one ... all those chocolates for that. Puh-lease, Martha. You could do a lot better.

#3 - Givenchy mascara

Maybe I shouldn't have told you my secret ... umm ... Covergirl's good too.

#4 Oroweat Sandwich Thins

Oh my! These are soft and flavorful. They don't taste like cardboard at all. And, only 100 calories for 2 thins.

#5 - This band - Glory

Go here and listen to "Over Us." I simply cannot get that song out of my head. Love it.

Chorus: "You are God of All, all things seen and unseen. You are God of All, all things big and small. You are my God, seated on the throne. God of all."

And this lyric, "No tear unseen, no problem too small. Every moment You watch over us."

Download the song. You won't be disappointed. There are other good songs too. My 2nd favorite - "Heart Ablaze."

Do you have a new love?

I was going to post the Jody Whatley video for "Looking for a New Love," which was a really great '80s song, but the video was a little inappropriate. To think my mother let me watch those videos. I didn't even realize how inappropriate the '80s videos even were when I was in the '80s. Of course, I was like 5. That's understandable.

But, in the process, I found this gem.

I present Gary Numan's, "This is New Love." Enjoy.

I couldn't have thought of a better definition myself.

La Petite Belle checked out this book from the school library.

It really is a good book and has lots of great pictures of different types of dogs. It also gives lots of information to kids about caring for a dog.

The book asks, as the title suggests, "101 Questions."

Le Petite Belle had K Belle calling out the questions to her to find out if she already knew all the answers to the questions in the book.

At first, the questions were innocent.

Take a look.

Then, came these two questions.

"Why do I go into 'heat'?"

(which also included the correct usage of the "b" word, right there, in black and white ... then I had to explain how it wasn't a curse word when used in that sense, but I never wanted to hear her say it because in our society it is a curse word)

Her answer: "It's when your dog has too much hair and needs a haircut."

I corrected her and explained.

Then, this one: "What does it mean to "neuter" your pet?"

Her answer: "It's like when you're messing in someone else's business."

Precisely.

After giggling, I corrected and explained again.

So, let's summarize: My 9-year-old learned about neutering, spaying, the "b" word, and why a dog goes into "heat" all from a book she checked out of her little Christian school library. And, her daddy threw in the teaching of the word, "teat," as a bonus.

It was well worth dealing with the innards.

If you've been a reader of my blog for some time, you know that a have a few phobias.

Just a few.

I won't go into listing them all, because like I said, there's just a few. And, you've heard enough about the biscuit cans.

One phobia I deal with is the point in time when my hands have to touch raw meat. (and I'm a pretty good cook despite this fact)

Ground meat, in particular, is the worst for me.

But, equally disgusting to me is chicken. And, don't even get me started on the raw chicken juice.

Give me a good steak or fish and I'm fine. I could touch and pat them all day long. No phobia. No grossing out. No gagging.

But, sometimes, you just have to deal with it. (A statement that La Petite Belle reminded me that I say to her all the time).

So, I did.

I dealt with it.

And, not with one chicken, but two WHOLE chickens.

Touching a chicken breast is a piece of cake compared to handling a whole chicken.

You see, you have to deal with the parts inside the chicken to cook the chicken. I don't understand why they don't just take those parts out. Why am I left to remove them?

The innards include parts no one I know eats. I think it' s like a liver, a kidney, and a spleen or something like that. But, don't quote me. That's what I imagined they were as I was pulling them out of the chicken ... not once, but twice. Twice.

Of course, I tried using a fork and knife and squeezing the chicken first before I maneuvered my hand into the cavity of the birds. You really have to use your hands. You just do.

You may wonder why I didn't just get Beau to do it. He's my go-to raw-meat-toucher guy.

Well, I would have, but he wasn't home and the chicken had to get in the oven.

After a lot of self-talk and "Ewww"s and talking to the dead chickens themselves and washing my hands 16 times inbetween steps, I finally removed the unwanted parts.

I was quite proud of myself.

And, the results ... delicious.

If you don't have a terra cotta baker, get one. It's the best way to bake chicken ... so moist and flavorful.

And, if this were to happen to me, I would probably have a heart attack. (one of my favorite "Friends" clips)

Things I Loved About the Weekend

* Watching my daughter perform in CYT's, "Godspell."

(I didn't love that I only had my phone for pictures.)

Here she is making a goofy face with a few of her friends and cast members, and La Petite Belle.

* Watching La Petite Belle's soccer team, The Turf Girls, win another game ... still #1, still undefeated.

* Splitting Coyote Blue's fajitas with Beau

* My family allowing me to sleep in for two days

* New Orleans Saints ... 8-0. This is a sure sign of the end times. All the way, Saints, all the way!

* A trip with La Petite Belle to Baskin Robbin's ... two kid's scoops of jamocha almond fudge

* Pure joy from forcing Beau to watch "Dirty Dancing" yet again (It's fun.)

* The feeling after I finished Kenpo X (not the feeling I had before)

* Taylor Swift on SNL

* The fact that egg nog lattes and peppermint mochas are back at Starbuck's. Yay Christmas!

Now, back to Monday through Friday.

You see, I'm pleasant.

I think I have been typecast.

Yes, typecast.

As a mean, bitter, old woman ... a part I will play in this year's Christmas production.

For some reason, people see me in this role, like it's a natural thing for me.

I am a very misunderstood woman.

Let's get one thing straight ... I am not mean. I am not bitter. And, I am definitely not old.

On the contrary, I'm quite nice.

Examples:

When I'm not in a hurry, I let cars pull out in front of me.

When I see people in the grocery store, I only run and hide when I'm donning that just-rolled-out-of-bed look or the person being seen tends to talk too much.

When those annoying vendors in the mall ask me if they can ask me a question or if I have a minute, despite my efforts to not make eye contact, I don't ignore them, but say, "No, thank you," and keep walking.

I'm sure there are many more examples of my niceness. Many more. I wouldn't want to overwhelm you.

I share the same sentiments as one of my favorite movie characters, Ouiser Boudreaux.

Yes, I'm just as pleasant. If I may be so bold, I dare say, MUCH more pleasant.

So, the next time, I'll take the role of the sweet, quiet, demure, young woman.

Dora's for Babies

La Petite Belle pulled this out of the utensil drawer the other night.

What you may not be able to see is that that little black smudge on the edge of the fork was once Dora the Explorer.

This is HER fork.

She has eaten from this fork ever since she could eat from a fork.

No one has been allowed to eat from this fork but her.

When a younger child would come over to the house, I would offer it to that child and La Petite Belle would give me THE look. You know ... the same look you give your children when they are doing something you don't want them to do ... that one. And we wonder where they learn it.

This same child pulled that fork out, very nonchalantly handed it over to me and said, "Mommy, I think we can get rid of this. I'm way too old for it."

Mommy was a little sad.

She asked, "Are you sure? It's your Dora fork. You've eaten off of this fork since you were a baby."

La Petite Belle: "Yes, Mommy. It's OK."

Mommy was still sad.

She asked one more time: "Are you sure?"

La Petite Belle: "Yes."

That fork is still sitting on the counter just in case she changes her mind. Or Mommy hopes she will. Darn growing up.

When her Dora doll gets thrown out of the bed, I may shed a tear.

Incognito

Almost 10 years of disguises ...

2000 - Farm theme ... K Belle as Jessie, La Petite Belle as a cow (she was about 3 weeks old ... that's my mom holding her).

2001 - No picture. Circus theme. The girls went as a ribbon dancer and a human cannonball.

2002 - Space theme ... K Belle as Princess Amidala, La Petite Belle as the sun (or Charles Nelson Reilly).

2003 - Historical characters theme... K Belle as a medieval peasant girl, La Petite Belle as Eve.

2004 - Cartoons theme ... Rainbow Brite and Wonder Woman

2005 & 2006 - One year, we had a special Glow night at church. The other year ... No clue.

2007 - Farm theme again. The girls as chickens with Roxy Belle and some friends of ours who had the same idea.

2008 - Cajun theme ... Beau, the girls, and Roxy Belle as a live "Blue Dog" painting by Rodrigue.

2009 - '50s theme ... La Petite Belle as Marilyn Monroe (It was a stretch with her dark coloring, I know.)

K Belle as Lucille Ball (not as much of a stretch).

Next year, K Belle turns 13. I'm thinking we'll be out of the dressing-up stage. Or maybe not. Her mama still likes to dress up and she's a little bit older than 13. Just a little.

C'est Bon ... (for real)

For all you non-French speakers, that means "It's good!"

It's the name of our women's ministry cookbook.

We kicked off the sale this past weekend with a recipe sampling following each of our four services.

I had lots of help dishing out these samples from a bunch of lovely ladies (and a few lovely men).

There were so many delicious dishes brought by the ladies of the church.

I made two of the dishes I submitted ... one of them requiring a little cooking sherry or sherry wine. I had to giggle at how many people raved about the dish I brought ... because, you see ... I accidentally read the wrong measurements for the amount of cooking sherry required. So, an extra cup ... yes ... CUP was added. Great. I'm going to bring a dish to church spiked with extra wine. I was a little concerned about how it would taste, but I think it might have actually been better. Who knew?

I am extremely proud of this cookbook, not because of how good it looks, or because of the three-hundred-and-somewhat recipes included in it, but because of how the profit from this cookbook goes to our women's ministry's first-ever mission trip to El Salvador this summer. In June, we're headed to King's Castle to volunteer and minister where needed.

I'm surprised at how many women, including myself, have not been on any kind of mission trip and I do think it is a must. So, we're going.

In honor of Fall Frenzy and our cookbook sale, I'm including my recipe for apple butter. This always reminds me of fall and it's great as gifts or served on hot biscuits.

Apple Butter

20 apples, peeled, cored, and sliced

3 1/2 c. sugar

2 T. cinnamon

1 T. cloves

Place all the apples in a large crock-pot overnight on LOW. In the morning, you'll have applesauce. Add the remaining ingredients and serve or can.

If you are interested in ordering a cookbook, email me, message me on Facebook, or leave me a comment here. Cookbooks are $20 and I only have a limited number of books available.

Here's a quick look.

Get yours before we sell out!

And for more fall recipes, click the link below to head over to Linda's place.