Just Beachy

Did I make you yearn for the beach?

Just thought I'd share. I'm desperate to go, but our beach trip isn't scheduled quite yet. We have an annual trip; I'm trying to make it quad-annual (is that a word??). So far, I've managed to book two trips this summer. The snapshot is from the first one. Don't see me in the photo? Of course not, silly! I'm lying on a chair reading a book.

Can't wait to visit my favorite place (besides the country, of course).

TCB

Instant Caprese Salad (for One)

There's one reason I grow basil in my summer garden: I love caprese salad, and fresh basil is pretty expensive at the grocery store. Using my homegrown tomatoes and a couple of other pantry staples, I can create a quick summer lunch for myself.

Instant Caprese Salad (for One)

one ripe tomato
fresh mozzarella slices
basil leaves, washed and patted dry
sea salt
ground black pepper
balsamic vinegar
extra virgin olive oil

This couldn't be easier. Slice tomatoes and place on plate. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Slice mozzarella and place on plate with basil leaves in the desired arrangement. Drizzle olive oil and balsamic vinegar over all.

What a great, light lunch on a hot summer day when produce is at its finest.

Happy eating!
TCB

Country Photo of the Day

Photo of the day

I think I need to clarify one point: KFC stands for Kids for Christ.

We are not plumping up Henny Penny and Lucy for Kentucky Fried Chicken.

Love,
TCB

Been Fishin'

This photo is an apt description of my home right now. Things pop up in unexpected places - always where they do not quite belong.

My grocery shopping basket is left on the breakfast nook floor. And my son's fishing rod is propped against the chair. He's not gone fishin'; he has BEEN FISHIN'.

Sometimes it's too much trouble to put every little item away. SpongeBob called my son's name when he walked in the door from fishing at the river. My cell phone gave its well-known ring to announce the next call. Where I dropped the basket a few days ago still sits today. We don't worry about these things too much. One advantage of living a little bit out in the country - No one "drops by" for a visit without calling first. They don't want to drive all that way and find you're not home. So you always have time to sweep up those floating items and ferry them back to their proper homes.

One day, I will take the time to put away the basket and a litter of other small things scattered in different rooms. And when I'm finished - after only 2 minutes of expended energy - I'll wonder why I didn't do this earlier.

Do you have nagging little things around your home like this? Take 2 minutes today and put a few things away. Doesn't that feel better? If you do that every day, imagine how much easier it will be on "cleaning day." (Do you have one of those? I put those away 10 years ago. Funny how that's the exact age of my precious-wecious son).

Have a happy day!
TCB

RIP Molly Dearest

We had to do what we didn't want to do with our dear, old friend, Molly the golden retriever. She was almost 17. I can't talk about her passing, so I really can't write about it either.

Rest in peace, Molly. We will never forget you.

Love,
TCB and the whole family

Growing up Southern (And Dancing on Sunday Morning)

I was born in the South. I grew up in the South. And I still live in the South. Wouldn't have it any other way.

When I was little (I refuse to tell you how many years ago that was), we always started Sundays by going to the little Baptist Church out in the country on Greenpond Road. Almost everyone did. (I wish it was still that way today).

Of course, everyone knew if you were Southern Baptist, you were not supposed to drink, swear, smoke, or dance. Check, oops, check, oops. As I marched up the steps to my Sunday School class, I noticed lots of the "older" men standing around and smoking a cigarette before church started. They were smoking, so did it mean it was OK to dance?

I sure hope so, because every Sunday morning while my Daddy played "oldies" on the stereo in the den, I tap danced and balleted my way around the den in my Winnie-the-Pooh black patent leather Mary Janes and my slip. Yes, we all used to wear a slip. It may be quite a challenge to find one in a store now.

I never put on my dress until the last minute because Mama thought I might spill something all over it at the breakfast table. But the slip was mighty fine for twirling, and I danced in front of an audience of my pretend friends and celebrities like Donny Osmond.

So, fast forward >> years (Did you think I was actually going to tell you HOW MANY?). Occasionally, I have a SkinnyGirl cocktail, sometimes my tongue says things it shouldn't, I never had the desire to smoke, and I still dance. But only in private to make my son and husband laugh. Watch Elaine Benes on a Seinfeld rerun. You'll get the picture.

Don't forget to celebrate Memorial Day.

Love,
TCB

Housewife Poetry

I couldn't help myself today. I had to write down some of the rhymes that fly out of my mouth during the course of the day when I'm giving orders or just talking to my son. I call it Housewife Poetry. I'm sure you've uttered a few astonishingly rhyming verses yourself.

"Supper is hot and ready;
We just need a Daddy."

"Not using your brain
Is a bad thang."

I'm surrounded everywhere
by dirty underwear.
(It was laundry day).

And yesterday's utterance:

"Son, don't run with your gun."

He didn't. And here's what happened. (x3)

Have a happy day.
TCB