I love listening to my kids' conversations. We were visiting Sonic at happy hour. Bookworm was heard to say "Aren't you glad your nose is on your face?' to her sister.
I started laughing. She wanted to know why. "Where else would it be?" I replied.
Bookworm: Well, if it was in the back of your head, your hair would be tickling it, and you'd sneeze all of the time
Popcorn: And you'd get snot in your hair!!!
Me: If it was on your elbow, it sure would hurt if you banged it.
Popcorn: If it was above your ear, snot would run in your ear! (are you catching a theme here?)
Bookworm: If it was in your armpit, it would sure stink! Unless you use deodorant of course.
Popcorn: Ewww, snot in your armpit! Snot on your deodorant!
We all laughed until we snorted our Sonic drinks out of our noses.........
Which were thankfully on our faces.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Friday, January 30, 2009
An Ode to Billy Jack
Do you ever wonder what nurses discuss around the water cooler? Well, here you go!
It began as any other day in the hospital. It ended as anything but. I was due to get off duty at 4pm. At about 3:30 I was done...physically, emotionally, mentally. I ran to the break room and hid while I drank a cup of high quality hospital coffee...Fully leaded. Of course, I have a pager, and since I'm spread out over 3 floors, I can really only hide for so long before someone beeps me.
At about 3:40 I decided to do my final rounds through the radiology department. First stop, CT. I entered the holding area to find an older gentleman attempting to climb off the end of the his stretcher. He'd been in the ER for 3 hours (really a very short time by ER standards) and his legs were hurting...And he needed to use the facilities. I helped him to the bathroom, asked him why he was here, and helped him get situated as comfortably as possible on a stretcher.
Billy Jack: "I've been through a lot in my life. I've really suffered, but nothing compared to this."
Me: Is that right?
Billy Jack: Yeah, I've been under a lot of stress lately. Well, I'm a prisoner.
You can imagine my surprise at this bit of information. I was immediately fascinated, and strangely not afraid. Of course, I'd already spent 10 minutes virtually alone with him, and he hadn't tried to strangle me yet. I guess I figured I was safe.
It seems my friend, who called himself "Billy Jack" started his life of crime at the tender age of 9. He had no one to take care of him. He was living in fields and sleeping in people's barns. He was caught killing chickens (to boil and eat, of course) and sent to reform school.
His next stint in the slammer was at the age of 16. He was put there for robbing banks. He's been in and out of trouble his entire life. Mostly in trouble. He spent the majority of his life in prison. But he's not a bad person. He's just had a hard life.
He was in Dallas when JFK was shot. "Were you involved in the plot?," I asked. Yes. I did. As a nurse I have the ability to ask anyone anything, and can justify it to myself that I need to get an accurate history. Granted, I only knew him as "Billy Jack," and I was only killing time until I had to go while he awaited his CT scan, but you can never underestimate the value of a good patient history. Especially when it could be a great post on a blog!
Okay, I digressed. No, he wasn't involved in JFK's assassination. He was attempting to break out of jail in Dallas at the time of the assassination. But he's not a bad person. He's just had a hard life.
Interesting.
He finally ended up in jail for murder. He shot two people. But only because they were going to kill him. He just killed them first. He said the jury didn't see it that way. But, again, my friend Billy Jack is not a bad person. He's just had a hard life.
He ended up in a hospital for the criminally insane. He was institutionalized with John Hinckley, Jr, the man who shot Reagan. "They called it a hospital, but there were no windows. There was razor wire at the top of the fence, and guards with machine guns in the towers waiting to shoot you if you tried to do anything or escape." It sounded like a rough hospital. I guess they don't give you a lot of amenities in facilities for the criminally insane.
During this fascinating "patient assessment" (I like that term better than the idea that I'm just nosy) I also learned he did 8 years in Alcatraz, along with several other institutions that I can't remember all of the names of. But he's not a bad person. He's just had a hard life.
You see, Billy Jack has always had another person living inside of him. This person keeps him safe. This person also keeps the people on the outside safe.
"Wait a minute, does he mean this other person is keeping him safe, or me safe from him?" I was contemplating this during the remainder of our conversation.
I asked him where his guards were, since he's a prisoner. *You see, Gentle Reader, I worked in a hospital that had a contract with the federal prison system. Let me assure you that these prisoners were shackled to their beds and had 2 armed guards on them at all times. And, depending on their crime, they could have 2 armed guards outside the door also. The really creepy thing is when you realize they are there to protect the patient, not you, in case a family member comes seeking vengeance. On another day I'll tell you about my experience with a former mafia leader.* It seems he went to a halfway house 32 days ago. He's been on good behavior for several years, so even though the federal government still owns him, he has more freedom now. He will eventually be released on parole, but even then, he will "still belong to the government."
Yep, Billy Jack, is certainly a misunderstood soul......By the way, I never verified his name with his bracelet. I just started helping him and asked his name. The CT tech came in to interview him for his exam. He apparently knew who he was. He stood like 10 feet away from him, and asked his questions. It was seriously funny because I could tell he was really... uncomfortable with him. You see, we of course report details like "this patient is a homicidal maniac" when we send patient's to someone else's unit. Anyway, he verified his name (which WASN'T Billy Jack, just in case you're wondering), and the patient said "Call me Billy Jack."
You know I didn't believe his stories right? Except about the person living in him. I think he may have been in and out of jail. Maybe for murder, maybe for bank robbery, but definitely not ALL of the places he listed. At least I hope not. Because, if they released him for good behavior, like he said, he's still crazy, and by crazy I mean yes, he's mentally ill and possibly dangerous. Who's to say that person on the inside will stay in control?
You also know I googled (click) Billy Jack when I got home, right? Billy Jack was a character in a series of movies in the 1970s. He was a former green beret, half Indian, who did time in prison for involuntary manslaughter. Could this be similar to "I killed them before the killed me?" The movies take place in Oklahoma during the depression. Another similarity? Hmmmm....
So, what do you think, Dear Reader? Did I meet a poor, confused man who assumed the personality of a 1970s movie hero?
Or......
Did I look into the eyes of a serial killer who began with poor hapless chickens at the tender age of nine, and ended with a double homicide?
Who knows? But it sure made the last 20 minutes of my day fly by!
BTW, if you haven't figured out what we discuss around the water cooler...We discuss freaks. Absolute freaks.
It began as any other day in the hospital. It ended as anything but. I was due to get off duty at 4pm. At about 3:30 I was done...physically, emotionally, mentally. I ran to the break room and hid while I drank a cup of high quality hospital coffee...Fully leaded. Of course, I have a pager, and since I'm spread out over 3 floors, I can really only hide for so long before someone beeps me.
At about 3:40 I decided to do my final rounds through the radiology department. First stop, CT. I entered the holding area to find an older gentleman attempting to climb off the end of the his stretcher. He'd been in the ER for 3 hours (really a very short time by ER standards) and his legs were hurting...And he needed to use the facilities. I helped him to the bathroom, asked him why he was here, and helped him get situated as comfortably as possible on a stretcher.
Billy Jack: "I've been through a lot in my life. I've really suffered, but nothing compared to this."
Me: Is that right?
Billy Jack: Yeah, I've been under a lot of stress lately. Well, I'm a prisoner.
You can imagine my surprise at this bit of information. I was immediately fascinated, and strangely not afraid. Of course, I'd already spent 10 minutes virtually alone with him, and he hadn't tried to strangle me yet. I guess I figured I was safe.
It seems my friend, who called himself "Billy Jack" started his life of crime at the tender age of 9. He had no one to take care of him. He was living in fields and sleeping in people's barns. He was caught killing chickens (to boil and eat, of course) and sent to reform school.
His next stint in the slammer was at the age of 16. He was put there for robbing banks. He's been in and out of trouble his entire life. Mostly in trouble. He spent the majority of his life in prison. But he's not a bad person. He's just had a hard life.
He was in Dallas when JFK was shot. "Were you involved in the plot?," I asked. Yes. I did. As a nurse I have the ability to ask anyone anything, and can justify it to myself that I need to get an accurate history. Granted, I only knew him as "Billy Jack," and I was only killing time until I had to go while he awaited his CT scan, but you can never underestimate the value of a good patient history. Especially when it could be a great post on a blog!
Okay, I digressed. No, he wasn't involved in JFK's assassination. He was attempting to break out of jail in Dallas at the time of the assassination. But he's not a bad person. He's just had a hard life.
Interesting.
He finally ended up in jail for murder. He shot two people. But only because they were going to kill him. He just killed them first. He said the jury didn't see it that way. But, again, my friend Billy Jack is not a bad person. He's just had a hard life.
He ended up in a hospital for the criminally insane. He was institutionalized with John Hinckley, Jr, the man who shot Reagan. "They called it a hospital, but there were no windows. There was razor wire at the top of the fence, and guards with machine guns in the towers waiting to shoot you if you tried to do anything or escape." It sounded like a rough hospital. I guess they don't give you a lot of amenities in facilities for the criminally insane.
During this fascinating "patient assessment" (I like that term better than the idea that I'm just nosy) I also learned he did 8 years in Alcatraz, along with several other institutions that I can't remember all of the names of. But he's not a bad person. He's just had a hard life.
You see, Billy Jack has always had another person living inside of him. This person keeps him safe. This person also keeps the people on the outside safe.
"Wait a minute, does he mean this other person is keeping him safe, or me safe from him?" I was contemplating this during the remainder of our conversation.
I asked him where his guards were, since he's a prisoner. *You see, Gentle Reader, I worked in a hospital that had a contract with the federal prison system. Let me assure you that these prisoners were shackled to their beds and had 2 armed guards on them at all times. And, depending on their crime, they could have 2 armed guards outside the door also. The really creepy thing is when you realize they are there to protect the patient, not you, in case a family member comes seeking vengeance. On another day I'll tell you about my experience with a former mafia leader.* It seems he went to a halfway house 32 days ago. He's been on good behavior for several years, so even though the federal government still owns him, he has more freedom now. He will eventually be released on parole, but even then, he will "still belong to the government."
Yep, Billy Jack, is certainly a misunderstood soul......By the way, I never verified his name with his bracelet. I just started helping him and asked his name. The CT tech came in to interview him for his exam. He apparently knew who he was. He stood like 10 feet away from him, and asked his questions. It was seriously funny because I could tell he was really... uncomfortable with him. You see, we of course report details like "this patient is a homicidal maniac" when we send patient's to someone else's unit. Anyway, he verified his name (which WASN'T Billy Jack, just in case you're wondering), and the patient said "Call me Billy Jack."
You know I didn't believe his stories right? Except about the person living in him. I think he may have been in and out of jail. Maybe for murder, maybe for bank robbery, but definitely not ALL of the places he listed. At least I hope not. Because, if they released him for good behavior, like he said, he's still crazy, and by crazy I mean yes, he's mentally ill and possibly dangerous. Who's to say that person on the inside will stay in control?
You also know I googled (click) Billy Jack when I got home, right? Billy Jack was a character in a series of movies in the 1970s. He was a former green beret, half Indian, who did time in prison for involuntary manslaughter. Could this be similar to "I killed them before the killed me?" The movies take place in Oklahoma during the depression. Another similarity? Hmmmm....
So, what do you think, Dear Reader? Did I meet a poor, confused man who assumed the personality of a 1970s movie hero?
Or......
Did I look into the eyes of a serial killer who began with poor hapless chickens at the tender age of nine, and ended with a double homicide?
Who knows? But it sure made the last 20 minutes of my day fly by!
BTW, if you haven't figured out what we discuss around the water cooler...We discuss freaks. Absolute freaks.
Good Morning Sunshine
We had an ice storm here in Oklahoma this week. These pictures may look like snow on the ground, but it was actually about 3 inches of sleet accumulated. We were thankful it came down as sleet, not rain, because that meant there were very few power outages.
I headed to work yesterday morning. I left with plenty of extra time to account for icy roads. I made Studmuffin back me out of the driveway. I was afraid I'd slide into our mailbox or one of the neighbors. Imagine my surprise when I say THIS at the end of my driveway at 6:15 yesterday morning.
I was not a happy camper. To be honest, I was blaming it on the kids next door. Our neighbors to the East have two cute teenage girls. I figured some boys had came to see them the night before, crashed into my box, and drove off in a teenage "let's get outta here before someone sees us!" moment.
We started investigating right away. Studmuffin had alerted our local police department, who said it was probably a teenager who panicked and drove off, but we'd never be able to prove it....So....
Studmuffin began investigating. He found pieces of red plastic from a bumper. We have a friend that's a CSI. We figure he can run the pieces through their fancy computer system and learn the make, model, and year of the vehicle. That's what happens on TV. Surely that's art imitating life, right? Plus, mailboxes are property of the USPS, and destroying them is actually a federal offense, right? I'm sure our local CSI is very interested in catching the perps.
Agent Studmuffin interviewed every neighbor. Nobody saw anything, except....
The girls I was blaming for the accident! They were watching TV with their parents, heard a crash, went outside, and saw a man get out of a red pickup, look at the mailbox, jump in, and speed away. I can vouch for the speeding away part because even in the dark you could see his skid marks in the ice on our street. Our second clue! The perp drives a pickup! And, the story confirms our evidence thus far...The vehicle was red! We are getting closer and closer to a suspect...
So, I take back my accusations to these poor innocents, who were originally deemed guilty on the sole basis of being teenagers. They actually helped our investigation! Granted, one said he backed into it, the other said he hit it head on...But we expect these things in the crime business. You get 20 witnesses, they will give you 20 stories. We look for the common thread to piece our investigation together....
So, if anyone in our area sees a suspicious looking man in a red pick up that has either a front or back torn up bumper, please contact this blogger immediately! A reward of chocolate chip cookies will be given to anyone who has information leading to the perpetrator of this federal offense.
I'll keep you posted on the crime scene, and update you about the progress of our investigation. Special Agent Andi, signing off for now.
I headed to work yesterday morning. I left with plenty of extra time to account for icy roads. I made Studmuffin back me out of the driveway. I was afraid I'd slide into our mailbox or one of the neighbors. Imagine my surprise when I say THIS at the end of my driveway at 6:15 yesterday morning.
I was not a happy camper. To be honest, I was blaming it on the kids next door. Our neighbors to the East have two cute teenage girls. I figured some boys had came to see them the night before, crashed into my box, and drove off in a teenage "let's get outta here before someone sees us!" moment.
We started investigating right away. Studmuffin had alerted our local police department, who said it was probably a teenager who panicked and drove off, but we'd never be able to prove it....So....
Studmuffin began investigating. He found pieces of red plastic from a bumper. We have a friend that's a CSI. We figure he can run the pieces through their fancy computer system and learn the make, model, and year of the vehicle. That's what happens on TV. Surely that's art imitating life, right? Plus, mailboxes are property of the USPS, and destroying them is actually a federal offense, right? I'm sure our local CSI is very interested in catching the perps.
Agent Studmuffin interviewed every neighbor. Nobody saw anything, except....
The girls I was blaming for the accident! They were watching TV with their parents, heard a crash, went outside, and saw a man get out of a red pickup, look at the mailbox, jump in, and speed away. I can vouch for the speeding away part because even in the dark you could see his skid marks in the ice on our street. Our second clue! The perp drives a pickup! And, the story confirms our evidence thus far...The vehicle was red! We are getting closer and closer to a suspect...
So, I take back my accusations to these poor innocents, who were originally deemed guilty on the sole basis of being teenagers. They actually helped our investigation! Granted, one said he backed into it, the other said he hit it head on...But we expect these things in the crime business. You get 20 witnesses, they will give you 20 stories. We look for the common thread to piece our investigation together....
So, if anyone in our area sees a suspicious looking man in a red pick up that has either a front or back torn up bumper, please contact this blogger immediately! A reward of chocolate chip cookies will be given to anyone who has information leading to the perpetrator of this federal offense.
I'll keep you posted on the crime scene, and update you about the progress of our investigation. Special Agent Andi, signing off for now.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Oatmeal Cookies
So, I'm not keeping you waiting long for my famous oatmeal cookies. Okay, sorta famous....Like not even remotely known past my tiny sphere of acquaintances famous, but my family and friends love them, and scarf them down in no time flat. Or should I say "fat?'' because that's what will happen if you don't limit the quantity of these sheer heaven, melt in your mouth oatmeal cookies.
Okay, enough hoopla and bragging. Here's the
Okay, enough hoopla and bragging. Here's the
Super Secret Don't Tell Anyone But I Found This Recipe On The Back of Kroger Quick Oats Oatmeal Cookies
1 c butter, softened
1 c granulated sugar
1 c brown sugar, firmly packed
2 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
2 c flour
1 1/2 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt
3 c quick oats
1 c nuts-optional
Mix butter & sugars-then beat in eggs and vanilla. Combine dry ingredients (except oatmeal and nuts), then stir into sugar mixture BY HAND. I add about 1/3 of the dry ingredients at a time. Add oatmeal and nuts. Bake 12-14 minutes at 375.
I don't know my grandma's recipe, but I can tell you 2 very major variations from this one. She packs them full of raisins, nuts, and sometimes dried cranberries. I think she adds it until the dough will just barely stick together, then bakes them. They are fabulous that way, and that's how she convinces herself it's okay to eat these for breakfast....and lunch...and probably supper too. I do know she also uses real butter.
So, here's the story: You knew you were going to get one, right? Grandma went to the doctor for her annual blood work, check-up, etc. Her cholesterol was over 350. But, that was down last year from over 400! You see, she thought these cookies were good for her cholesterol because of all the oatmeal she was eating. I guess it didn't cancel out the 2 sticks of butter! She hasn't been taking her cholesterol medicine either. Why take cholesterol medicine at 88 years old? She's lived a full life. Those meds have very uncomfortable side effects, and people often have to try several to find the one that doesn't bother them. Why deal with that at 88? I say, "More oatmeal Grandma!" I'm sure she agrees!
Disclaimer: I am NOT telling anyone it is okay to not take your meds. She is 88, for pete's sake. You probably are not. If you do have side effects from your cholesterol meds, tell your doctor, and they will switch you to a different one. Also, diet and exercise can do amazing things. Can you say "exercise?" Give it a try!
And a quick rant here: If you have a genetic predisposition to high cholesterol, this does not mean you shouldn't treat it because "God made you that way." It means you should be more conscious of what you eat, exercise, and take your meds!!! If you are genetically predispositioned to cancer you don't ignore it! You treat it! *Has anyone noticed my little profile comment about my own predisposition to bossiness? I'm sure that explanation is abundantly clear to you now!*
Okay, I'm done now. Go make yourself some fattening, high cholesterol oatmeal cookies!
1 c granulated sugar
1 c brown sugar, firmly packed
2 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
2 c flour
1 1/2 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt
3 c quick oats
1 c nuts-optional
Mix butter & sugars-then beat in eggs and vanilla. Combine dry ingredients (except oatmeal and nuts), then stir into sugar mixture BY HAND. I add about 1/3 of the dry ingredients at a time. Add oatmeal and nuts. Bake 12-14 minutes at 375.
I don't know my grandma's recipe, but I can tell you 2 very major variations from this one. She packs them full of raisins, nuts, and sometimes dried cranberries. I think she adds it until the dough will just barely stick together, then bakes them. They are fabulous that way, and that's how she convinces herself it's okay to eat these for breakfast....and lunch...and probably supper too. I do know she also uses real butter.
So, here's the story: You knew you were going to get one, right? Grandma went to the doctor for her annual blood work, check-up, etc. Her cholesterol was over 350. But, that was down last year from over 400! You see, she thought these cookies were good for her cholesterol because of all the oatmeal she was eating. I guess it didn't cancel out the 2 sticks of butter! She hasn't been taking her cholesterol medicine either. Why take cholesterol medicine at 88 years old? She's lived a full life. Those meds have very uncomfortable side effects, and people often have to try several to find the one that doesn't bother them. Why deal with that at 88? I say, "More oatmeal Grandma!" I'm sure she agrees!
Disclaimer: I am NOT telling anyone it is okay to not take your meds. She is 88, for pete's sake. You probably are not. If you do have side effects from your cholesterol meds, tell your doctor, and they will switch you to a different one. Also, diet and exercise can do amazing things. Can you say "exercise?" Give it a try!
And a quick rant here: If you have a genetic predisposition to high cholesterol, this does not mean you shouldn't treat it because "God made you that way." It means you should be more conscious of what you eat, exercise, and take your meds!!! If you are genetically predispositioned to cancer you don't ignore it! You treat it! *Has anyone noticed my little profile comment about my own predisposition to bossiness? I'm sure that explanation is abundantly clear to you now!*
Okay, I'm done now. Go make yourself some fattening, high cholesterol oatmeal cookies!
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
A Rose is a Rose
Before you proceed one sentence further, I must warn you. This post is NOT about beautiful flowers. The exact opposite in fact. It is about filth. Disgusting-ness. Utter gross-out-ness. Beyond belief, someone help me please to end the perpetuation of such ickiness for the deluded idea of self-expression.
So, now you know....Proceed with the knowledge that you've been forewarned.
So, who's been watching American Idol? I haven't. I wanted to, I really did. I like to watch the auditions, then skip the whole group audition junk, and rejoin when they get down to the good people.
Tonight I actually tuned into Idol. I was doubting I would be successful in actually viewing it, but short of one call during the first 10 minutes, (from my BROTHER!! Some of you will understand the utter absurdity of this, while the rest will remain blissfully ignorant, though now thoroughly curious) I saw the whole thing. I enjoyed it, as always.
What I was disturbed by was the very last audition by a lovely young ragamuffin by the name of Rose. Of course, she had a great story. She lived in a van with her dad until he died when she was 13. Her mother died 2 years later, and she now lives with her best friend's family, in a house. She was cute as a button despite her strange attire and messy hair style. My only problem was....
THE GIRL HAD NO SHOES ON!!!!!
I hate bare feet in public. I would wig out when my kids took their shoes off in the nursery at church. No bare feet in public, please. It just isn't sanitary! And it makes your feet ugly! Come on, girls, don't we all want pretty feet? Didn't we all make sure our feet were clean and toenails painted before we went to that delivery room to birth those babies?
They showed this lovely girl skipping joyfully down the street with her golden ticket....AND HER FEET WERE COMPLETELY BLACK!
WITH FILTH OFF OF THE STREET AND FLOOR!!
I know she grew up in a van, but come on! Surely someone would tell her to PUT SOME SHOES ON!
Did the judges comment on her state of barefootedness? No. They commented on how pretty and cute she is, and how much they like her. No mention of bare feet.
Please. Please. Please don't make me look at this child's bare feet for the rest of the season! I can't take it!
This concludes our rant for this lovely Wednesday evening. Thank you. I'm better now.
So, now you know....Proceed with the knowledge that you've been forewarned.
So, who's been watching American Idol? I haven't. I wanted to, I really did. I like to watch the auditions, then skip the whole group audition junk, and rejoin when they get down to the good people.
Tonight I actually tuned into Idol. I was doubting I would be successful in actually viewing it, but short of one call during the first 10 minutes, (from my BROTHER!! Some of you will understand the utter absurdity of this, while the rest will remain blissfully ignorant, though now thoroughly curious) I saw the whole thing. I enjoyed it, as always.
What I was disturbed by was the very last audition by a lovely young ragamuffin by the name of Rose. Of course, she had a great story. She lived in a van with her dad until he died when she was 13. Her mother died 2 years later, and she now lives with her best friend's family, in a house. She was cute as a button despite her strange attire and messy hair style. My only problem was....
THE GIRL HAD NO SHOES ON!!!!!
I hate bare feet in public. I would wig out when my kids took their shoes off in the nursery at church. No bare feet in public, please. It just isn't sanitary! And it makes your feet ugly! Come on, girls, don't we all want pretty feet? Didn't we all make sure our feet were clean and toenails painted before we went to that delivery room to birth those babies?
They showed this lovely girl skipping joyfully down the street with her golden ticket....AND HER FEET WERE COMPLETELY BLACK!
WITH FILTH OFF OF THE STREET AND FLOOR!!
I know she grew up in a van, but come on! Surely someone would tell her to PUT SOME SHOES ON!
Did the judges comment on her state of barefootedness? No. They commented on how pretty and cute she is, and how much they like her. No mention of bare feet.
Please. Please. Please don't make me look at this child's bare feet for the rest of the season! I can't take it!
This concludes our rant for this lovely Wednesday evening. Thank you. I'm better now.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Desperate Times Call for Chocolate Chip Cookies
I craved chocolate chip cookies all day yesterday. This is a somewhat weird craving for me because I would classify chocolate chip as my least favorite cookie. My favorite is oatmeal, hands down. And, yes, I'm bragging, but I do happen to make the best oatmeal cookies I've ever tasted. Granted, I've never entered any sort of contest, but they are kiss-yo'-mama good! Oh, wait...Maybe my Grandma Irene's are better. But good luck on ever getting that recipe. The woman doesn't own a cook book, and never uses recipes. To learn more about this incredible woman click here.
Okay, I digressed...we were talking chocolate chip cookies. I was madly craving them. I read my sister's blog last night. Out to the side she has lists of things she loves. She listed homemade chocolate chip cookies. THAT DID IT!!! I continued to fantasize about those blasted cookies until I relented and made them out of desperation with Popcorn today. We are having an ice storm, so there was no school today. I wasn't needed at work. We cancelled all but emergency procedures, so my boss let me stay home (I have the longest commute.)
So, you know this is not just a simple post about making cookies, right? Not only making cookies, but the drama that I must infuse in every tiny crevice of my life. The title gives that away. What sort of drama could be involved with a simple cookie? Well, you KNOW I'm going to tell you!
I didn't have chocolate chips. I scavenged my cupboards. I found my Dove special dark chocolates. I'm a firm believer in having one piece every day at 4 o'clock. It gets me through the day, satisfies my chocolate cravings, and gives me a boost of powerful antioxidants! I chopped up about 12 chocolates.
We commenced with gathering the remaining ingredients....My brown sugar was no good. SOMEONE (and by someone I mean, of course, me) left the convenient zip lock bag OPEN and lo and behold, the sugar was all dried out and clumpy. I did not have patience to place an apple in the bag and let it set to resoften and declump my brown sugar. We used all granulated sugar, thank you very much.
I have a sickness...I'm always trying to cram secret nutrition into my baked goods. This means that about half of all flour is always whole wheat. The rest is unbleached all purpose. I also frequently toss in flax seed. I was out of that, so my family missed out on that supplement today. FYI flax seed helps lower cholesterol.
So, today Popcorn and I made dark chocolate chunk cookies. They were YUMMY! Would you like the recipe? Sure you would! Disclaimer: This is not my mother's recipe, which is indisputably better, but a) I don't have that recipe and b) it uses shortening which I also did not have. Remember my whole no hydrogenated oil or high fructose corn syrup thing? Shortening definitely falls into the former category. Obviously I use it for pie crust, but other than that....Anyway, here's the stinkin' recipe.
Dark Chocolate Chunk Cookies.
1 1/2 c granulated sugar (the original recipe is equal parts granulated and brown sugar)
1 c butter, softened
1 egg
1 c whole wheat flour
1 1/4 c all purpose flour
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
12 pieces of Dove Special Dark chocolate, coarsely chopped (if I had had more, I totally would have used them, but I'm a chocolate lover, and the concept of "too rich" is weird to me)
Heat oven to 375. Mix sugars, butter and egg. Stir together dry ingredients. Add dry ingredients to sugar mixture. Taste mixture (just to be sure nothing was left out.) Have your child taste a spoonful. Second opinions are very important! The dough will be stiff. Stir in chocolate. Taste mixture again...You may need more chocolate! If it's just right drop by rounded teaspoons onto baking sheet. Bake 8-10 minutes.
My tip for you: Use your mixer for the sugar mixture, but NEVER use the mixer after that step. Your cookies will be chewier and softer.
My question for you: Don't chocolate chip cookies have vanilla in them? I didn't put any in. Let me know if I left out a vital ingredient.
So, now you're absolutely DYING to know what my recipe is for oatmeal cookies aren't ya? Well, too bad. I'm saving that post for another day. I've got to keep you coming back for more, don't I?
Saved by a Tag
I was struggling with blogger's block. I know, it seems impossible. I have lots of ideas, but they're not fully formulated. Of course that is normally how I function...
Anyway, here's how it works. Go to the place you keep your pictures on your computer. Go to the 4th folder. Open the 4th picture and explain it.
This picture was taken at Popcorn's class Christmas party. It's out of focus. They were dancing wildly to Christmas music. Her teacher went all out. They had chili dogs, nachos, cupcakes, and lots more that I can't remember. I do remember one little boy ate 4 hot dogs.
So, who to tag? I would tag Mom, but she'd stress out about how to find pictures, how to upload them, etc. I guess I'll tag Becky because that's all that's left. My blogger contacts have not expanded by any margin since my last tag, and my sister tagged the other people I know. So, go Becky go!!!
Anyway, here's how it works. Go to the place you keep your pictures on your computer. Go to the 4th folder. Open the 4th picture and explain it.
This picture was taken at Popcorn's class Christmas party. It's out of focus. They were dancing wildly to Christmas music. Her teacher went all out. They had chili dogs, nachos, cupcakes, and lots more that I can't remember. I do remember one little boy ate 4 hot dogs. So, who to tag? I would tag Mom, but she'd stress out about how to find pictures, how to upload them, etc. I guess I'll tag Becky because that's all that's left. My blogger contacts have not expanded by any margin since my last tag, and my sister tagged the other people I know. So, go Becky go!!!
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