Blog

By:  Donna Hale Chandler

I love homemade bread, the smell as it bakes, and the way the butter melts when it’s still warm.  Yum.  As I went through one of my many precious cookbooks, I found a recipe for bread baked in a coffee can in a crockpot.  I read the recipe several times, completely intrigued by the idea.  It seemed to be simple enough for even me.  After all it’s pretty hard to mess up a crockpot recipe.

For once I had every ingredient listed, even an empty Maxwell House coffee can.   I followed the instructions exactly, sprayed the inside of the can with Pam, mixed everything together, poured the batter into the can, placed the lid on the crockpot, set it on high and sat back to wait the specified three hours.  Soon the smell began to escape the pot and wander through the house making my mouth water.  It smelled like it was a success.  I crossed my fingers and continued to wait.

When the timer went off, my sweetie and I stood side by side as I removed the lip and peeked inside.  What we saw would warm anyone’s heart.  The bread was perfect!  Carefully lifting the coffee can out of the crockpot and tipping it, the bread slid right out, a picture of beauty.  After cooling just a tad, we sliced off a couple of pieces and it was melt-in-your-mouth good.  Had I actually been successful in the kitchen?  Well, not really.

After the crockpot cooled, as I prepared to put it away, I glanced inside.  Oh dear, what is that inside on the bottom?  It’s yellow.  The inside bottom of my crockpot was never yellow before, was it?  I didn’t think so.  Sweetie was called to the scene. He looked in and verified that yes, the bottom is yellow.  Did the coffee can melt?  No, the Maxwell can isn’t yellow, it’s blue.  I gingerly put my hand inside to touch this mystery yellow.  If felt like melted plastic and when I pulled on it, it lifted right out.

Strange, where did this come from?  What a puzzle?  I decided to pull the can out of the recycle bin and see if it had a yellow bottom that I had never noticed.  As I held the can in my hands, it finally hit me.  The plastic TOP of the Maxwell Coffee can was yellow.  When I took off the top, I put in on the bottom of the can, as is my habit, since I tend to lose most anything that’s not nailed down.  The plastic top melted onto the bottom of the crockpot as the bread baked.

Oh well, another good laugh at my expense – I followed the recipe exactly.  It’s not my fault that it was not specific about discarding the coffee can lid instead of baking it.

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Gramps use’ta say
R.L.King2012 #367

About: Apology’s

“Forgiveness can’t change what was,
but could change what will be.”

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ACRONYMS
Richard Lee King

They use so many acronyms in sports that we need a dictionary designated just for acronyms. Some of them have been around so long that many of us know them, but what about those people who are new to the sport? In baseball I know what MVP, RBI, BA, R, H, E and quite a few others, but my granddaughters don’t. Oh, and what about the new ones that are constantly cropping up? The article I was reading referred to OPS several times. I have no clue as to what an “OPS” is. I know what Oops is and at first that’s what I thought this was, an OOPS! A mistake…. But as I read a little further, they referred to it again. One “typo” could possibly be an Oops, but a few sentences later the same Oops? Somehow that just didn’t sound very likely.

In football, they use terms like “Quarterback, Half Back, Defensive Back and Linebacker. Plus, when you are talking about linebackers, they can be an inside linebacker, outside linebacker or a middle linebacker. Then they start throwing in the ACRONYMS. Half back becomes the H back or HB. Quarterback is QB. When it comes to the linebackers they are LB or ILB or OLB or MLB. An offensive lineman is OL and defensive lineman is DL, or is that Disabled List? Are you beginning to see where I’m going with this?

It seems that there is a need for a series of dictionaries for the various sports, something small that you could carry in your pocket or in a purse. Wouldn’t it be nice if Budweiser, Coke, Pepsi or someone who is a regular sponsor of sporting events were to put out something like that as a promotional giveaway?

Or, maybe some sharp entrepreneur could start a website where he had a series of different dictionaries available at the click of a key, each one for a different sport or industry. Or maybe one dictionary for all acronyms and another for all sporting terms.

Maybe you’d be able to pick your own criteria. Maybe there is already something like this available…. Who knows? Maybe I should “Google” it? Do you see what I mean? Ten years ago if I said I was going to “Google it,” how many people do you think would have had a clue as to what I was talking about? Not only that, but now we have “Bing” and, of course, “Twitter and Tweeting” which are even more recent.

It just never ends.

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Gramps use’ta say
R.L.King2012 #368

About: Common sense

“Though some are slow to grasp it,
there’s a big difference twixt
being dumb and actin stupid.”

By Donna Hale Chandler

I love cookbooks.  I read them as if they’re a novel of mystery and suspense.  I also enjoy trying new recipes.  (Fortunately I have a ‘better half’ that never complains, no matter how the end result looks or even tastes.)  I have good intentions when I choose a new dish to try.  I carefully read the ingredients and add them to my grocery list – the one on my phone – the one I’m not likely to lose or leave behind.

It seems with each recipe I end up missing at least one small item – usually something that I thought I had in the cupboards but when I reach for it, it’s not there.  (Has the List Gremlin branched out to stealing from the kitchen?)  I don’t allow myself to stress over such a small dash of this or that, I simply substitute something else that I suspect might be similar.

For example, I recently ran across a tasty-looking recipe for apple crisp.  It appeared easy to throw together, even had a picture of the end result.  (Yum – looked delicious).  Right off the bat I was in trouble with the flour.  I had self-rising flour and it called for all-purpose flour, “Oh well, that shouldn’t be a problem,” I said to myself as I continued to add items to the mixing bowl, thinking that if that was the only substitute I needed to make I’d be just fine.

However, it wasn’t the only substitute I made.  The recipe called for a 9 x 9 baking dish.  My dish is 8 x 8.  Again – no problem.  Cover the bottom with sliced apples, pour the batter over the apples and pop in the oven, set the timer and wait.

Do you want to guess what happens when you use self-rising flour instead of all-purpose flour and a smaller baking dish?  When the timer buzzed, I learned yet another lesson.  One I have proven by past experiences that I may never get through my thick head.  Recipes should be followed to a tee!

I opened the oven door expecting to see a nicely browned, delicious-looking apple crisp.  Instead I saw that my concoction has risen over the too-small baking dish, had spilled out over the sides where it baked onto the glass, onto the oven rack, and of course onto the bottom of the oven.  It looked like a major mess  AND it wasn’t nearly baked through.  I simply closed the door and let the whole disaster continue to bake, thinking I’ll deal with cleaning the oven  later – maybe tomorrow or even the next day.

The end result was that the apple crisp really was tasty.  It wasn’t very pretty and of course neither was the inside of my oven.  Oh well, it’s time to find another recipe to botch. (AFTER the oven is cleaned.)

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Gramps use’ta say
R.L.King2012 #363

About: Consequences

“When you desire a better ending,
seek a better beginning.”

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By:  Donna Hale Chandler

Earlier I touched on all the lists that I make, only to lose them – or have them taken by the thieving List Gremlin.  Lists are not the only thing I can easily lose.  I can even manage to, at times, lose my car.

Not too long ago, we flew from Florida to Michigan to visit family.  We drove our car to the air port long-term parking lot.  As always the lot was close to full and finding a parking space meant driving up one floor after another.  After several minutes we finally pulled into a spot.

Knowing how easily I forget things, as we were preparing to exit the car and gather our luggage, I decided to write down the floor and parking space number so when we returned the next week, we wouldn’t have to search each floor for a white Ford Taurus.  (By the way – there are HUNDREDS of them and they all seem to be in the parking lot that I’m searching at the time.)  It took a few more minutes to dig around in by beach-bag-size purse to find a pen and a scrap of paper, all the while my sweetheart is waiting patiently.  The number of the floor was on a big post right in front of the car but I had to get out of the car and look at the pavement to get the space number.

Feeling a bit of pride at remembering to make this record, I checked my note to make sure it was correct and then wondered where to put it so it wouldn’t disappear, someplace that would be safe, someplace where it wouldn’t get lost.  “I know,” I thought to myself, “I’ll put it in the car’s cup-holder between the front seats.”

I know, I know, but it made perfect sense at the time.  AND I didn’t even realize my mistake until we returned, collected our luggage at Baggage Claim and headed toward the parking lot.  Now where did I put that note telling me where my car is parked?  Oh yeah, IT’S IN THE CAR.  (I’m so fortunate to have a patient sweetheart.)

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Gramps use’ta say
R.L.King2012 #370

About: Goals
“Everyone cain’t be a rose,
but never let that hinder yer effort

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