Looking Back

Don't know about the rest of the state, but I am ready for warmer weather, so bring it on!

The link I have copied here is to one of my other blogs. I was revisiting some of my older posts and wondering why I cannot get motivated to do all of the wonderful things I use to do. I think this horrible weather plays a big part, as does being cooped up all winter. I have gained a few pounds, and we all know the difference a few pounds can make in regards to how you feel. Hopefully, warmer weather is just around the corner, and we will all get outdoors and get some much needed fresh air and exercise. Until then, you might want to browse through some of my older posts. I may do a bit more of that myself. You never know. I may get motivated sooner than I thought.

http://letmeshowyousawn48.blogspot.com/

The Purple Socks

As I told my neighbor and fellow blogger just this afternoon, I feel we all have at least one"why" tucked away, somewhere in our subconscious. I have many, but the one that comes to my mind tonight is" Why do I feel compelled to save everything. A pair of purple socks is my subject tonight. I have worn this pair of purple socks off and on for about a year now. I know it's been a year, because my Mother passed away a year ago March 12, 2013, and I inherited many of her colorful socks. I wanted them simply because they epitomise "Mom" herself. She loved color and she wore and used it incessantly. In any form possible. If not in her clothing, then she would use colored paint. She painted the sidewalks and the stepping stones, every color in the rainbow. Thus her nickname,The Colorful Cajun. At least, that's the name the Pastor of her church used when referring to Mom. To those who knew her much better,it was "The Ragin' Cajun, which she was equally proud of. 

Tonight, when  I took my purple socks off, I decided it was time to stop wearing them. There was a hole in each heel, which didn't show when I'd wear them, so I continued to do so. Tonight is the night. I must stop wearing them. I took the scissors and cut them down the middle and across the toe, making a square flat piece out of each one.The color was so pretty, and then there was Mom's memory attached to them. How could I possibly throw them away. Well, I didn't. I took them to the serger and hemmed the little square pieces of sock material on all of the raw edges. I WILL find some way to use these pretty little purple square pieces of fabric. Thus, my questions. Why do I do this? Why do I feel so attached to inanimate things? Is it a sickness, or possibly a curse? I suppose I could pay an exorbitant amount to some kind of counselor or head doctor to explain it to me, but knowing me, I'll continue on, asking myself "Why".

Who needs a recipe?

At the last few visits we made to the local auction, we found they were selling produce. Such a great idea. They have been selling some items that most of us can really use, and the prices were right, too. I bought 6 Huge Granny Smith apples. They were selling 3 apples for $1. I got 2 lots. The grapes were heavenly, too, but the subject for my post today is the apples.

I have never been one to stick to a recipe, although we HAD to do so, for most of the latter years I worked for the local school system. I grew up "making do" with what we had on hand and that is a hard thing to overcome, not that I would ever want to. We were very poor, growing up, and hardly ever got "sweets". Most of the sweets we did get came from something I had concocted using whatever we had on hand in the cupboards. Mom always had this one rule that we knew better than to break. We were allowed to make or cook up anything we could find the ingredients for, but it must be eaten. We could not afford to mix up something and toss it out simply because it did not turn out to suit us. We would have to rework it into something that was edible. Whether it meant adding peanut butter, or oatmeal, or sorghum. It had to be made edible. If nothing else, we could make it up into a cake. It is amazing what you can come up with, if you have that rule hanging over your head.

I usually got the job. I don't know if I cooked back then because I enjoyed it, or if I learned to enjoy it later in life, because I had those cooking experiences as a child. nevertheless, I do enjoy experimenting with foods. Today, I decided to try my hand at the apple dumplings or a close attempt with no recipe. Usually, I will hear someone telling what all they used in a recipe, and I can come up with a pretty close dish of my own.

Without hunting up a recipe, I knew I had the Granny Smith apples. That is the type most ladies mention that they were using. An apple is an apple to me, but then I never was much of a connoisseur on apples. I had crescent rolls,  cinnamon and sugar, butter, sugar water (since I had no Sprite), and cream cheese. I don't remember if the others used cream cheese or not, but I love it so I'm tossing it into the mix.  I tossed the diced apples in my sugar and cinnamon mixture then I wrapped one of the crescent rolls around several pieces of the apples, along with a small chunk of cream cheese, and placed the finished product in my casserole dish along with a half stick of melted butter. I sprinkled a little more cinnamon and sugar over the rolls, then poured 1 cup of water mixed thoroughly with one cup of sugar, over the entire dish. I baked it at 350 degrees for about 30 minutes or until the rolls were brown on top.

It was heavenly. Perfect for a midday snack, especially since Carmen, David, and the Grand children are planning me a Birthday Supper tonight with Cake and Ice Cream.

I got a $10 Starbuck's gift certificate today from my first cousin in Alaska. That would be so nice with my Apple Dumpling snack, but I guess I will have to wait until we go to Louisville in the next few weeks to use the certificate.