My Secret Peanut Butter Cookies

Can you keep a secret? I knew you could. I am letting you in on my own super secret easiest ever recipe. I like to call these "There's Chocolate in my Peanut Butter" cookies. If you don't like chocolate ( you're weird) you can omit it form the recipe. You might want to double up the recipe as these go fast. The following recipe is worth it's weight in gold, I traded a batch for a new stove! ( I really did!)

Okay gather up about 50 ingredients ( gotcha).

One 16 oz. jar of peanut butter smooth or crunchy.

One cup of sugar

One egg

Now mix all three secret ingredients together. Next roll the mixture into balls. Place on a ungreased cookie sheet. Flatten the cookies with the back of a fork. Dip the fork in sugar to keep from sticking to the dough.

Place the cookies into a pre-heated 350 degree oven for 10 -12 minutes. while your waiting unwrap Hershey kisses and see how many you can eat before the cookies are done. As soon as the cookies come out of the oven stick an unwrapped chocolate in the middle of the cookie. Transfer cookies to mouth err umm plate using a spatula. Pour yourself a big glass of ice cold milk sit back turn on some Christmas music ( I suggest Santa Baby by MaDonna) and enjoy!!!

Grandma's House

Going to Grandmas

At Hospice there was a reception desk and on the desk sat a candy dish. The dish was made of cheap imitation cut to look like crystal glass. The sight of the sun glistening off that candy dish flashed me back in time. For a moment I closed my eyes and was transported back to the early sixties. I found myself remembering my grandmother. My father’s mother.
My grandmother watched soap operas. No one was allowed to talk while her soaps were on. So I would amuse myself by wandering around her house. One of my favorite things to do was to climb up all the twenty two steps of her staircase. Upon reaching the top stair I would sit down and bump my way back down on my butt one step at a time. This was not an easy feat as there were obstacles to be avoided on my descent. I was always careful not to knock over the piles of years worth of TV guides that were stacked high on the edge of every step. Grandma was a legend before her time. Grandma was a hoarder.
After my aerobic activities I would go in search of candy. Grandma always had candy at her house. Her candy dish was a recycled (before it was cool to do so) glass mayonnaise jar. The candy in Grandma’s jar was always leftover Christmas ribbon candy. In the thick heat of a sweltering July afternoon I would attempt to extract that candy from its finale resting place. I never got to taste the fruits of my labor. The Christmas ribbon candy stayed welded tightly to the bottom of that glass jar. Try as I might I was never able to get the candy unglued. In all probability this was probably a lifesaver. ( no pun intended)

Daddy's Girl ( a work in progress)

Daddy’s Girl

My father passed away on a bitterly cold November evening three years ago. It is only natural that thoughts of him have been running rampant throughout my mind. As my father lay dying in a Hospice facility I was his constant companion. I stayed by his side twenty-four hours a day for the last three days of his life. I spent those last days in deep conversation with him. There was no subject that was taboo.
My mother and father had divorced when I was fifteen years old. After their divorce I had no contact with my father for many years. I reentered his life after the birth of my first child some ten years later. My father had by that time remarried and taken on the bonus of two step daughters . I had gained one wicked step-mother. Our reunion was short lived as we had a major fall out over his drinking habits. As a child I did not have a choice to not be around him when he was drinking. But as an adult I realized that I did have the capacity to control the situation. I left my father’s house that day and never looked back. Twenty more years of my life would pass and lead me back to him and into this room that smelled of death.
I wanted answers to questions that had never been asked before. I was no longer the scared little girl who trembled in the night at the sound of her father’s raucous voice. I was brave. This time I had the power.

Wicked the musical - defying gravity
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My theme song for 2011

For YOU ( and you know who YOU are )

Chaos

Here I sit writing. A million thoughts are running through my head. As of late my life has been complete chaos. Where oh where do I begin to tell the story? I think that it all began to unfold three months ago. I remember the date March 17, 2009. On St. Patrick's Day I began the day bringing my youngest daughter Kendra home from the hospital. Kendra had just given birth to my youngest grand baby. A beautiful little girl named Lilly. I had already planned to take the week off to be home with them both. Little did I know at that moment that fate had other plans for me.
We all got home and settled down to be ready to take care of the new baby. It was at this time that I noticed a severe pain between my left ribs and hip bone. I tried to ignore this pain hoping that it would dissipate. The pain began to get worse and I thought maybe it was another ovarian cyst. I laid in bed with my daughter and slept for a short while. The pain overtook me and I awoke me from my sleep. I thought a hot bath would help. I hurt so bad at this point that I climbed into the tub fully clothed. As I was sitting in the tub I leaned over and began to throw up into the toilet. My daughter came in and looked at me and asked what was wrong. I told her of my pain and told her to call her brother to take me to the emergency room.
What was I thinking? We are of Irish decent and St. Patty's day is like our Christmas. My son the true green Irish man that he is had spent the night drinking and was in no position to come and rescue me. My daughter wanted to call 9-1-1 but I would not let her. We called a neighbor and she came and took me to the hospital. I had to wait a few hours in the waiting room. At some point my neighbor got pissed off at my wait and demanded that I be taken into a room. I think my throwing up in their office trash can convinced them to take me next.
When I got into the e.r. room the first thing that did after taking my medical history was to do a e.k.g. They quickly ruled out a heart attack. At this point I was now experiencing excruciating pain.I have a very high tolerance for enduring pain. I had three babies and two of those births were completely natural with no drugs at all. The pain that I was experiencing was worst then giving birth. The hospital could not give me anything for pain until they could figure out what they were dealing with. My oldest daughter was called and could not leave her three young children at home, so she sent her husband over to be with me.
The next test ordered was a c.t. scan. I had to drink two thick nasty tasting milkshakes that would illuminate my insides for the c.t. scan. As if that wasn't bad enough I had to wait another hour for the radioactive drink to travel my digestive system and not throw up or it was back to square one. At last the time came for the test. While in the c.t. scan room the tech surprised me with yet another yummy milkshake to drink. I sucked that awful stuff down in record time because I knew once I got the test I would be able to get something for the pain. After the test I was then sent back to the e.r. room. A sweet angel of mercy arrived and plunged a needle full of dilaudid into my i.v. Dilaudid is considered to be somewhat faster-acting and about eight times stronger than morphine and about three times stronger than heroin on a milligram basis. I was able to get some release from the pain.
I was moved to the trauma room to wait. My son in law showed up. The nurses kept coming in and out every fifteen minutes to take my blood pressure. My reading kept falling lower and lower. At this point I was still in pain and was screaming for more drugs. At one point ( I was told days later) I screamed at my son in law to get me roofies . I haven't a clue what they are but I wanted some. ( I later found out that roofies is a knock out drug ) My son showed up at this point and took over my care. The doctor came in to tell us that I had diverticulitis. Diverticulitis is a pocket of infection (abscess) that forms in the abdominal cavity. The inflammation or infection then may spread to the membrane that covers the inside of the abdominal wall, causing peritonitis. This infection in turn may spread to other parts of the body (sepsis). My son questioned why I wasn't in a room upstairs and was told that I was to unstable to take the trip up the elevator.
I knew I was dying, I felt my life slipping away. I could see my body in it's curled up fetal position laying on the table. I couldn't talk but I could hear what was being said. I sensed that I was in a tunnel. As I looked at myself the light was getting dimmer, as I looked in the other direction the light was getting brighter. I felt no pain. I thought no thoughts. I was at complete peace. A peace that I have never experienced before or would probably never know again. Sweet reprise from pain and suffering.
The very next thing that I was aware of was waking up the next night in my hospital room and the pain was back. I was treated with two different strong antibiotics and there was talk of doing surgery. I spent the next five days in the hospital and the antibiotics did the trick. I was sent home to recover with more antibiotics and a visiting nurse. As time went by I resumed my normal life. I have been busy helping to raise my grand daughter, working full time, and back in college working on a degree in special education. You might ask why is she sharing all this private medical information. My answer is that I do so to share information with you the reader. Take care of your body and listen to it, eat right, reduce your stress and keep your doctor's appointments. One last thought life is all about love please be kind to everyone who crosses your path. What if this was your last day on this earth; how would you want to be remembered?

Mrs Parker and the Vicious Circle: Resume - Funny video clips are a click away

RESUME ~Dorothy Parker~

RESUME

Razors pain you;
Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you;
And drugs cause a cramp.
Guns weren't lawful;
Nooses give;
Gas smells awful,
You might as well live.


Dorothy Parker

Day Tripping

The brat and I were taking in the scenery of First Street, Sanford, Florida yesterday. First Street is dotted with antique shops and art galleries. As we were trudging along the brat informed me that since she was now seven months pregnant she needed to pee, and pee now.
The first place we came upon was a bar slash art gallery. As we walked inside the owner came to the door to greet us. She asked us if we were there for the book signing. I replied that we were there for the prego to use the rest room. She pointed to the back of the bar and said " Enjoy, but be warned we have the best bathroom you will ever see."
The brat walked back to the bathroom . I made my way to a table that was set up with books. As I approached the book table a young blond women came over to me and introduced her self as Kristin Harmel. She proceeded to tell me that she was a novelist, and showed me her books. The book she was promoting was called " The Art of the French Kiss" it is written in the genre of chick lit. Chick lit is told in a more confiding, personal tone. It's like having a best friend tell you about her life. These kinds of books are usually filled with humor.
We had a brief conversation about writing and promoting books. I asked her if she did any social networking. Kristin informed me that she had a myspcace and a facebook profile. I spoke with her about Gather and we exchanged emails.
At this point my daughter came back from the ladies room and she leaned over and whispered in my ear. "Momma you have to come see the ladies room." I let her lead me to the pink door of the ladies room . I opened the door and began to laugh. Yes indeed this ladies room was a piece of art. Oh..the places my panties travel to! Please ladies enjoy the pictures that follow.