Moms

I spent a very nice day with my mom and with Abbie.
Paul and Abbie made breakfast for me this morning, got me flowers, and a surprise gift.
Later, we loaded up the car to go to my mom's house. It was Paul's idea to go to my mom's today and fix her lunch.
{Btw, Paul did try to call his mom and got voicemail. Maybe she had to work}
I don't think my mom liked anything I made, but that is okay. I don't cook much anymore, and even though I love her, I had no plans to cook an elaborate meal. And my mom is sort of a food snob - not in a cranky, mean way - she just mostly likes her own cooking. And ever since she had a brain aneurysm, her sense of taste is off (and she can't smell anymore either).
As soon as we got there, I started making a butterscotch pie. During the process, I set off the smoke alarm. Even though I didn't let the filling cook long enough to get thick enough, the pie turned out great, and it was the one thing she liked. You had to eat the pie with a spoon, but it was yummy!
While I worked on the pie, Paul put together a salad and grated all the cheese for fondue. She didn't like the fondue either. It had a bottle of beer in it, and I think that funked it up too much for her. I did mean to say "funk" because that is how I would describe the added flavor (Paul and I like it).
We also made chili pie - corn chips, chili, and cheese. Chili was from a can - regular not hot. But she thought it was spicy so she didn't eat much.
She also wondered what kind of lettuce was in the salad. It was from a bag, and I couldn't remember. She picked at it. If it had been regular iceberg and had had tomatoes in it, she probably would have been okay with it. She did like the cucumbers Paul put in it.
Normally, I like people to like my cooking, but her lack of interest in my mediocre cooking didn't hurt my feelings. I know how she is. My stepdad, on the other hand, had seconds of everything.

Here's more info about my mom's weird food snobbery. When she travels, she starves because she doesn't like other people's cooking. She traveled extensively up the east coast and didn't like any of the food. Not even the amish cooking. She's even been to Paula Deen's restaurant and wasn't impressed. She went to some fancy restaurant, and the waitress noticed she was picking at her food, and she asked my mom if something was wrong. My mom said she had never had green beans the way they cooked them (I think they were long, skinny, green beans that had been lightly sauted). The waitress was shocked and said the restaurant was known for their green beans. She asked my mom how she cooked hers, and my mom told her. She cooks her green beans a LONG time with bacon grease and a hunk of bacon or ham and plenty of salt and pepper. One morning, they stopped in a Hardee's (somewhere up north), and my mom was excited (they had been traveling for weeks and she was beginning to starve from lack of homecooking). She stepped up to the counter and ordered biscuits and gravy (what she orders from Hardees at home). The employee informed her that they didn't have biscuits and gravy. My mom asked if they were out, and the lady said, "no, people don't eat that around here, but we have porridge." Boy, was she shocked and disappointed.

Growing up, the only drinks we had at our house was water (a given), whole milk (what she still buys), and tea (of course, it is sweet, anything else is sacriligious/dishwater). Anytime my mom has been in the hospital for surgery (and she's had several), she asks for tea as soon as she comes out of recovery. Not just any tea will do, it has to be her own tea, and of course, the nurses only want her to have water so soon out of surgery. We have to sneak it in (you can't ignore her request). When she travels, especially up north, you can't get sweet tea. And even if you could get sweet tea, she doesn't like anyone elses. She tolerates mine (I make it just like she does). Now when she travels, she makes her own tea on the road. And to get the authenitic taste that she is used to, she brings her own sugar and her own tap water from home. It's her way or nothing!

And in other news, this weekend was the annual Iris Show in Greeneville (goes along with their Iris Festival). My mom won BEST IN SHOW for her Iris named Supreme Sultan. This is the first "named" Iris that she ever owned, and I bought it for her several years ago (I had forgotten that, but she reminded me). She now owns numerous named Irises, and her garden is phenomenal! I'm so proud of her!

Abbie and I had a great day together too. She got me a "singing" card - she loves to pick those out. She helped me and Paul cook lunch. Then she played outside with my mom's dog. She and I borrowed my mom's scooter and rode it around the block. She is going to sleep with me tonight - as a special Mother's Day treat for her.

Bad Word

Some men are just rat bastards (not any of mine).

And no matter how hard you try, you just can't save some people from them. :(

Vivid Dream

Last night (or early this morning), I had a vivid dream. I'd love for someone to psychoanalyze it:

I dreamed that me and Angelina Jolie were BFFs. She was showing me her new tattoo on her ankle - she hadn't even shown it to Brad yet. Then she described for me a tattoo that Brad had on his back.
Then we took a drive, I was driving, she was shotgun. We were on a dark, country road, and she asked me to pull over so she could check her mailbox. There were large fruit bats perched in trees and on fences along the road (it wasn't scary though). I pulled over on the left side of the road, up close to the mailbox. But the mailbox was deep so I had to lean out of the car to get to all the mail. While I was getting the mail, Angelina had to get out of the car for some reason. Up ahead, I saw a car coming our way (deserted, dark, country road - remember?). I was pushing all the button on the steering wheel, trying to find the hazard lights so the other car wouldn't run into me because I was parked on the wrong side of the road. Angelina was no where in sight. I was calling, "Angelinaaaa....." over and over and then I woke up.
Weird!

Things I Miss

Portions of this post are dedicated to my sister-in-law Theresa. *

I miss (in no particular order):

*Bacon, specifically Oscar Mayer center cut crispy bacon
Ham and Cheese sandwiches from Pals
Club Sandwiches (cause they have ham and bacon on them)
Pork Tenderloin
Pulled Pork Barbeque
Watson
Molly
Ellie
Loved ones who have passed away
Size 6 clothes
The beach
My motorcycle
A tan
Baklava, my sister rarely makes this and hers is the best
The desire to shop
Irises, I don't have any planted, but my mom has several. When we move, I'll plant some
Battlestar Galactica
October Road
Past coworkers who have moved away
Local scrapbook store
A special green ice cream from my childhood that they don't make anymore
Playing board games and card games
and..................bacon!

Can You Be A Little Agoraphobic?

Lately, I've been feeling a little agoraphobic. People who know me would say that can't be true because I leave the house everyday - sometimes 3 times a day.
Yet, I feel like I don't go anywhere anymore - on purpose. I do take Abbie to school, and I do pick her up from school, and I take her to ballet. And I go to church. And I love to go out to eat and to the bookstore. Or for ice cream.

So if all that is true, how could I feel agoraphobic? Since I don't panic or get anxious about going out then I can't truely be agoraphobic. But I do seem to be more and more reclusive.

I put off going to the grocery store or Target as long as possible. I prefer to do my school run and then come straight home. And I don't go back out after I get home. The thought of running 2-3 errands does not appeal to me.

The other day, I went to the Mall to return something (I didn't buy it, Paul did - further proof that I haven't been shopping) then I stopped in Gymboree (which was conveniently close to the store where I made the return). Our Mall is undergoing remodeling and new stores are being added. In the distance, I saw a new store open, and I vaguely wondered what it was and that I'd like to go there - but I didn't. I thought about going downstairs to a department store, but I talked myself out of it. I decided to leave without really shopping - I do like to shop.

I've been wanting to go to the bookstore for about a week and still haven't gone. That fact alone shows just how acute my reclusiveness is.

Just talking out loud here in order to give myself a little therapy - maybe a little insight into why I never want to go anywhere.

The only idea I can come up with is that I am really sick of the drive to and from town. Based on some people's commute, I shouldn't complain. But I just want to be there! I want to get in the car, pass maybe 2 stop lights, make a few turns and BE THERE ALREADY.

And last idea is that our home has become an oasis. We're getting plenty of rain, our lawn is very green and lush, so many flowers are blooming, the house is clean (mostly due to the possibility of needing to show it at any moment). Hey, maybe I don't want to shop because I've done so much decluttering......

Well, I have planned some shopping rehab the middle of the month. I'm taking my hot, little church paycheck and going shopping in Knoxville. I'm even spending the night. If I find a cure, I'll let you know.

Until then, I'll be here, at home.