Blink~The Graduate

I suppose I’ve been driving this route for some time now.

Ooooh-whoo. Seven fifteen a.m. every morning for the past one hundred years.

Perhaps I exaggerate just a tad–but you get the point.

I’ve taken this road in the pouring rain…

thick and spooky fog……

and slippery, blinding, icy snow.

Driven it before daylight savings time when it was so dark outside the streetlights were still on.

With all the windows down in the summer when the cooler wouldn’t work.

In the winter with blankets wrapped around our shoulders and heads and feet because the heater wouldn’t kick in.

Attended every football game, track event, and choir concert humanly possible.

Grumbled now and then about the caffeine-induced erratic drivers or teenage pedestrians with a “you-know-you-won’t-hit-me” death wish, and the ridiculous youngsters that really shouldn’t have a license in the first place—as we all converged here in this very parking lot—before any decent human being should even be out of bed.

Sat, crocheting in this holding space for hours at a time, doing that mama thing we call waiting, sometimes alone and sometimes while my beloved cargo spent some needed time…with their mom.

Sat, idling along with the car, staring at this tinted glass door–that far away one between the cars–looking for any sign of Daney boy, or the bald kid.

Oh, the laughing and talking and listening and teasing and  heartbreaks and secrets and real earth life we’ve had at this place.

All to end up here. One. Very. Last. Time.

The bald kid thinks that I’ll be so glad to sleep in. He thinks that I’ll be relieved to save so much gas in the car. He’s sure I’m happy to see it all be finally–after 24 years and 5 kids—over.

I’m afraid he’s very…

very….

wrong.

And when that alarm clock doesn’t go off at 6:30 am any more, it won’t matter…

because I’ll already be awake…

wishing that it would…

just one more time.

Off to school—1996

 

 

Week 11 Food storage prompt:

10 lbs. sugar, 1 lb salt

Perfect Crispy Chicken Tenders

I’m thinking that being able to make an honest to goodness crispy chicken tender — just like way better than what you’d buy at some fancy, expensive restaurant should make you a really valuable woman. Don’t you think? I expect the marriage proposals to come flooding in–non-stop.

Ok, no I don’t. But I’ll tell you this…

If I was married to some cute little Scottish farmer man–he would be falling madly in love with me all over again because, you see, I’m magic.

I can make Crispy Chicken Tenders.

Oooh, ooooh, oooh–so can you…

Put two cups of flour in a bowl.

Add 1-1/2 Tbsp Seasoning Salt. If some other chickeny spices sound good to you, add them to the flour.  Personally, the seasoning salt works for me.

Soak a package of boneless, skinless chicken tenders in buttermilk for about 20 minutes. You may be asking, “how much buttermilk, lady. How much?” I’d say about 1-1/2 -2 cups. Save some for later.

Mix seasoning spices into the flour.

Ok, it’s later. Drizzle a few drops of butter milk onto the flour mixture. “Why?” you may ask. Well,  I can’t tell you yet.

Fluff the buttermilk drops into the flour mixture with a fork…

…until little crumbles form.

Dip each piece of chicken into the flour mixture. Isn’t it cool how the crumbly pieces actually stick to the chicken? Remember the drizzling buttermilk? That’s why.

Deep fry the tenders until golden brown–about 3 minutes on each side.

Remove from heat and cool on paper towels. Look at all that crunchy stuff!

The temptation will be to grab one and take a big bite–but be warned–these things are dreadfully hot. So let them sit for awhile, while you make a salad or something.

Oh, I know…

How about if you just bask in the glow of perfect Crispy Chicken Tenders, and your magic-ness.

You’re gonna make lots of friends now.

And if you happen to see my little farmer man with the Scottish accent wandering around out there somewhere, nudge him in the right direction.

He really doesn’t know what he’s missing.

I found this recipe on Pioneer Woman. So there.
4.9 from 11 reviews
Perfect Crispy Chicken Tenders
 
Ingredients
  • 2 Cups flour
  • 1-1/2 Tbsp Seasoning Salt
  • Boneless Chicken--cut in strips
  • Buttermilk
Instructions
  1. Put two cups of flour in a bowl.
  2. Add 1-1/2 Tbsp Seasoning Salt.
  3. Soak a package of boneless, skinless chicken tenders in buttermilk for about 20 minutes.
  4. Mix seasoning spices into the flour.
  5. Drizzle a few drops of butter milk onto the flour mixture
  6. Fluff the buttermilk drops into the flour mixture with a fork until little crumbles form.
  7. Dip each piece of chicken into the flour mixture.
  8. Deep fry the tenders until golden brown–about 3 minutes on each side.
  9. Remove from heat and cool on paper towels. Look at all that crunchy stuff!
 

Nearly, Nearly…

Nearly a pink blossom

Nearly a graduate

Nearly a cozy fire

Nearly a peach

Nearly Summer

Nearly at the end

Nearly one year out

Nearly jam

Nearly fifty-one years old

Nearly perfect

Perfect

Memorial…the Day

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This day has always been about families. Pulling everyone together to remember those who aren’t with us right now. In a lovely way, it is also about flowers.

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Bundles and bundles…

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of real flowers…

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to leave with a few people  we love, and miss very much.

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Great Grama Beck—the only doctor type person in town way back then and who sewed a neighbor’s scalp back on after a mule kicked him in the head.

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My momma’s brother who took one breath on the day he was born then closed his eyes again.

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My grama who once gave a kid a black eye for calling her little brother a “dirty farm kid.”

And my grampa who used to be a magician and could escape from being wrapped with chains–in 3 minutes.

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My great-great grandpa who gave Orson Hyde a purse of gold for his mission to the Holy Land a long time ago.

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We have spent this day remembering our family, with my mom and dad so many times–it seems impossible that now we are remembering them. How can it be?

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My lovely flower bearers…

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…and our tiniest blossom–so she will know the goodness that she comes from, and never forget.

I hope your Memorial Day weekend was wonderful for you all.

Arrowed

Ever wonder what a person’s leg would look like if it got shot by an arrow? Well, I’ve never thought about it, but I got the info first hand anyway…or first leg…or…nevermind.

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Ok, ok. So not shot exactly. More like arrowed. Yes, that would probably be a better word. Arrowed just above the knee.

No, it wasn’t a passing Boy Scout working on his merit badges. He got that one at Scout Camp.

No, it didn’t have anything to do with Cupid. I have a restraining order out on that guy–and any grown man in a diaper, for that matter.

No, it wasn’t a violent ambush by a pack of crazed Aborigines. I would have seen that coming.

Trust me.  This was worse.

Unbeknown to me the said arrow was covertly poking it’s mean little tail feathers out from the top of a box…in the hallway…where I was innocently walking…when it leaped out and attacked me.

All right. All right.

I walked right into it.

Arrowed–shot. Shot–arrowed. What’s the difference? All I know is that the pain was like being bit by a Rhino–do they bite? Oh, who cares. It nearly dropped me to the floor. The room seriously spun while I stood there trying to figure out what had just happened in this previously benign hallway.

In other words…it hurt like crap.

I’ll never see that hallway in exactly the same light again. In fact, next time I’ll turn on the light before I venture forth. That would’ve helped.

Sheesh.

(Just imagine the whining if it had been the pointed end!)

Have a Wonderful Memorial Day Everyone!