Sweet Potato Memories

I’ve been looking forward to today all week long.  Today is the day I get started with my Thanksgiving dinner and Day One involves baking.  I started with Grandma’s Sweet Potato Pie.

I’ve written down her recipe at least three times in the past and every time I go to look for it, I can’t find it.  This year was no different, so I decided that instead of frustrating myself by continuing to look for the recipe, I would rely on my memory.  I felt pretty confident as I pulled out all of the ingredients for both the pie and the lemon cake I would make later.  As I started mixing things together, I got a little sentimental and decided to call Grandma.

As I talked to her, she asked if I had everything.  I rattled off a check list.

“I boiled my sweet potatoes this morning.  I’ve got the sugar, butter, evaporated milk, vanilla, cinnamon, and nutmeg.”

“Do you have any lemon?”

“Oh yeah, I already put the lemon in there.  I’m about to pour this in the crusts.  Why do I have these eggs over here?  I don’t need those until I bake my cake.”

“Yes you do need eggs!  Lord have mercy.”

I imagined that she was shaking her head at me.  I can’t believe I forgot the eggs.  Even worse, I can’t believe that I didn’t think I needed the eggs.  The mixture looked and tasted right to me, and since I was baking based on looks and taste, I thought I was done.

“How many eggs do I need?”

“How many pies are you making?”

“Two.  I always make two at a time.”

“Well, I guess you need about four eggs.”

Before I cracked an egg, I stopped what I was doing and wrote down the recipe and the first thing I wrote down was the eggs.  I wrote it on the sheet of paper that has my cake recipe written on it.  I’ve decided that I’m going to ask Grandma to write it down for me so that I can frame it and hang it on the wall in my kitchen, that way I’ll be sure to never loose it.  I would hate to have to rely on my memory and not have Grandma to tell me what I forgotten.


Jeb Can Fix It?

I would hate to be Jeb Bush right about now. After a less than lackluster performance in the October 28th debate, his campaign that was already struggling to tread water, was put on life support.  After this week’s debate, I think the breathing tube has been removed, but his campaign is still in the ICU.

Jeb was supposed to be the clear front runner in this race, but he’s getting trumped by…well, Trump and a neurosurgeon so crazy, he shall not be named.  What happened, Jeb?  How did you let this thing get so wildly out of control?

What must it be like to be the only man in your immediate family who wanted to be president but just couldn’t cut it?  Just think of what family gatherings will be like for him if he loses.  All of the Bushes, sitting around a fire, when Bush 41 starts to reminisce.

Bush 41: Ma, that cake you made was almost as good as that chocolate cake that they used to make in the White House.  Remember that, Ma?

Barbra: Oh, yes!  It was incredibly moist and delicious.

Bush 43:  We much preferred the apple pie.  Didn’t we Laura?

Laura:  Yes indeed!

Jeb: *blank stare*

Bush 41: But the best meal I ever had was at that State dinner when we hosted…uh, nevermind.  Jeb, what kind of dessert did they give you in the governor’s mansion?

Jeb: *blank stare*

It really must suck to be a governor in a family full of presidents.

Can Jeb fix this?  I don’t know, but I know enough about politics to know that if he can just keep his head above water for the next few months, anything is possible.

The Stealth Wolf

For me, one of the worst parts about having lupus is its unpredictability.  I woke up feeling pretty good and decided to attack a few things on my eternal to-do list.  After I folded laundry, I made lunch.  I was having a perfectly lovely and lazy day on the couch.  I spent two hours catching up on “Scandal” and spent an hour more watching old episodes of “Designing Women”.  When I got up to get some water, my body was completely different.  There was a heavy and sharp pain in my arm and leg and the rest of my body felt completely worn out.  The exhaustion was as thick as tar.  I trudged my way to the kitchen and then couldn’t remember why I went in there.  I decided it was time for a nap.  Somehow, I made my way up the steps, though it felt like I was pulling one of those anvils from the Roadrunner cartoons behind me.  When I woke up, I felt worse than when I went to sleep.  A headache now accompanied all the other pain I was experiencing.

When I woke up this morning, I was energetic and optimistic about what I would accomplish today.  As, I struggle to get to sleep tonight,  I’m fighting the pain and depression and just hoping that I’ll feel better tomorrow.