Lime-life

It all started with three fateful words, texted to me by my friend, Janet. (That’s Janet, of butt blowdrying fame to any who have been reading for a while…) Anyway, back to the text:

Key. Lime. Pie.

From the moment I read the words on the screen of my iphone, I knew. I would be making a key lime pie.

To set the scene for you, about a week ago someone gave an industrial size bottle of key lime juice to my husband, the chef. I was thrilled. Overjoyed. I have a thing for key limes.

Just try. Try to think of something that doesn’t benefit from a twist of lime. I know! You can’t!!

20130528-231156.jpg

Is that KEY LIME in those glasses?

Then over the weekend while walking through Walmart minding my own business, I happened to pass a sale on bags of adorable little key limes. What good fortune! Those would go perfectly with everything I intended to mix with my lime juice. So I bought them, of course, and some coconut vodka just in case.

Can I just tell ya’ll that limes are totally one of my favorite things God makes? I just love ’em.

So I’ve used my juice over the last few days to paint a lime-ey ribbon through cocktails, homemade salsa, water, and tea and fed these lime laced labors of love to anyone who put their feet under our table.

And then of all things, Janet texts me about a key lime pie she was having and, not one to be outdone, I knew it was time for the pie. At first I got out my favorite cookbook, going for a “busy days pie” using ready made crust, whipped cream, condensed milk, and lime juice. Then I realized I had no ready made crust on hand, neither did I have whipped cream. A younger, sillier me would have given up, but nah…

I simply made my own graham cracker crust! It was easy!  I have a three-year-old, so graham crackers are a given.

Then I went for a recipe I found here, and it too was easy. PLUS it still called for condensed milk and who doesn’t love that stuff?? I may or may not have dumped a little lime juice in the bottom of the can after I poured most of its contents into the mixing bowl and eaten the lime juice and leftover condensed milk with a spoon. What? You know you’d do it too!

Anyway, I also didn’t have whipped cream, but I DID have whipping cream. (There’s a difference.) So after I picked up my Mackenzie from youth group and while my darling little pie was cooling in the fridge, the whipping cream lived its dream… fulfilled its destiny… it got whipped.

20130528-230842.jpg

Mama's piece of pie

So now I sit, alone, all others in the house slumbering peacefully. But I made a pie. And I ate the first piece. You know, out of good will toward the rest of the pie eaters that may come along, I willingly took the always-misshapen, difficult-to-cut first piece upon myself. Don’t tell, but it wasn’t misshapen at all. It cut like a perfect custard pie with all the preservatives in the world. You’d never know it was haphazardly homemade by a silly girl who is lime-crazy.

Limes, especially ones of the key variety, remind me of Florida. They have their roots, their history in Florida and so do I.  I love a bunch of people in Florida so limes make me cry in a happy/sad/lovely sort of way. (What? You don’t cry over fruit that reminds you of people you love? Then I won’t mention the various levels of emotional breakdown I have over green beans, corn, home canned tomatoes or fresh navel oranges.) So I can’t have Florida (you know, the people I love that live there) but I CAN put key limes in everything possible and know that the salsa on my chip, the wedge in my tea, or the pie on my plate is smiling back at me, reflecting a little bit of who I am.

I love limes, ya’ll. And pie. And my mama and daddy.  Lime Life is good.

20130528-230927.jpg

Lime life photo by Caleb, age 3

 

 

Facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditpinterestlinkedintumblrmailby feather

Serious Business

Guess what?  Around 9 on Saturday morning, an airplane will land at the New Orleans airport.  On that plane will be someone who has been my friend since around the age of 13 or so.  We’ve had weddings within days of each other,  had babies within months of each other, (here’s a pic of those babies about a year ago) we got our first tattoos together.  This lil ol blog even started with her as coauthor! (Check out a couple of blasts from the past about the last time we got away together.  Here’s one by me, one by Christy.)

Yep!  Christy’s comin’ to New Orleans!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Her first time here!

Whaaaaat????

And, as a gift for my birthday, my hubby has given me two, count ’em, TWO nights and days with which to do whatever we please!  Don’t hate!  I know I’m a lucky lady, but I also need this BAYUD!!! (that’s southern for BAD)

We are going to paint this town some sort of swirly-type tie dye inspired something.  Forget plain ol’ red.  The owner of the little B&B where we’ll be staying asked if I was a writer.  She read my email address and assumed I was.  She is, too!  She told me she thought I’d find the house and it’s art collection inspiring.  I keep thinking on her words.  It’s been, what? Seven years since our last weekend getaway?  I’m STILL going on some of the inspiration from that weekend, but it’s WAY past time for a booster shot.  Inspiring, indeed!  We shall laugh and cry and whisper and shout. We’ll have a few firsts and laugh at our lasts. We’ll do a few crazy things, but not too-much-whiskey-actin’-stupid kind of crazy.  Just free to be ourselves without worrying about a darn thing crazy.  But if you see us and need to look away, go right ahead.

Let this be a warning to all:  For about three delicious days, these two plate spinners shall not spin.  Not. one. plate.  Prepare accordingly.  We shall return to our regular scheduled programming soon enough, and we promise the world will continue its orbit while we’re gone.   This ain’t your ordinary paint-your-nails, shop-til-you-drop kind of girls getaway.  This is two people who’ve known each other too long and love each other too much to settle for mediocrity and surface scratching.  Depths will be explored, true feelings expressed, solutions brainstormed, goals set, and complacency challenged.  God will change our lives.  Again.  He always shows up when we’re together.  I think He likes hanging out with us! This is serious business.  The business of being friends, of walking the lovely flower-laden paths and navigating the stinky, muddy, sewers of life.  This ain’t no joke.  It’s going to be AMAZING!!!!

Pictures and profundity to follow.

 

 

Facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditpinterestlinkedintumblrmailby feather

Bow-chicka-wow-wow

Look at this.  Just look!  Is he YUMMY or what??? 

Check out the hands.  Try not to swoon. 🙂 

 

Yeah, he’s got his flaws, honey.  He’s also got a heart of gold, would move heaven and earth for me, and is right beside me crying and yelling and fighting and working on our cumulative baggage reduction procedure in order to make this marriage as healthy as it can be.  Second marriages ain’t easy dawlin’, and I’m pretty happy this man has chosen to make one work with me.  Anyway… who can resist a man in uniform??

 

 What can I say, baby?  I LOVE dat man!  (Photography by Michael Deris)

 

Facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditpinterestlinkedintumblrmailby feather

Birthday Fun

This week we reached a milestone: Levi turned 10! That’s a whole decade I’ve been mom to this incredible boy.

20121104-171825.jpg

Levi brings a smile everywhere he goes. He’s funny and witty. His voice is unmistakeable and though I have to remind him to be a little more quiet sometimes, I love hearing that voice. He can sing like an angel. As a matter of fact, a complaint from one of his teachers was that he would “sing out” in class. Regarding that complaint, Levi told his Papa and Nana: “When you got a song in your head, you just hafta sing it!” Levi is kind and caring. He’s a great big brother, and a great little brother too. Two nights before his birthday, Halloween night, we were heading out to another neighborhood to attend trick-or-treat festivities. I was especially tired from a long day at work and wasn’t really looking forward to going. Levi noticed I was dragging and said, “If it helps you, Mama, I’d be happy not to go.”

That’s Levi. That’s my amazing kid. And of course I replied “Just for saying that, baby, I’m definitely takin’ you!”

We had a blast for his special day. Since Disney celebrated his birthday with the release of Wreck-it Ralph, Dwayne took Levi and a couple of friends to see the film. They had an awesome time, since Dwayne has a knack for knowing what ten year old boys will think is “SO COOL!” They no doubt frazzled a few movie theatre employees and then headed back to the house for pizza.

20121104-171849.jpg

And Whoopie Pies!! (Nothing better for ten year old boys than eating something with “whoopie” in the name. Whoopie cushion references were in plentifulsupply.)  The whoopie pies were unbelievable if I do say so myself.  Something a little different, not really any more difficult than regular ol’ cupcakes but SO much fun to eat and they taste fantastic.  Think Oreo Cakesters but homemade and better tasting.  Quite fitting for young boys dontcha think?

20121104-171909.jpg

20121104-171925.jpg

They laughed and yelled and made tons of noise and played Wii. I went to sleep to the sound of boys laughing and woke up to the same sound.

Hanging out with ten year old boys is good medicine. They’ve got the effervescence of testosterone, but haven’t yielded to it’s total control. They’re bright-eyed, full of energy and fun. They’re a mix of all that’s right with the world.

Next morning, birthday pancakes, of course!

20121104-171940.jpg

An awesome celebration of an awesome young man.  Levi grew inside me during a very difficult time in my life.  He kicked around in there and provided a much needed reminder that God wasn’t finished with me yet.  Once I sat, very pregnant, on the couch at my mom and dads and my brother sat next to me.  Levi’s hand or elbow poked right at my belly button. You could see him poking it out, almost as if to say hello.  So I poked in.  Levi poked back.  Then my brother poked at him and he poked back again.  We played around with him for a while, having the most fun thinking he was playing back.  I’m still convinced he was.  He was a delight to me then, and has never ceased to be an absolute pleasure.  I’m lucky to be his mama.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditpinterestlinkedintumblrmailby feather

Guess What I Did??!!

I biked to work!! Yes, that’s right friends, I put my big ol’ hundred-and-however-many pound self on a bicycle for the first time since I was about 12 years old and pedaled myself to work.

This is me, arriving at work:

20120816-121633.jpg

This is me, a few minutes later, all cleaned up in my professional businesswoman costume!

20120816-121641.jpg

I’d like to thank God, my mama and daddy, and especially my dear and wonderfully insane friend, Bex Goodwin. Bex…an accomplished bicycle commuter who rides to the ferry, crosses the Mississippi, and continues her ride to work in downtown New Orleans.  Bex, who met me for the first time in a Starbucks when I, in the midst of hair-coloring process, had walked in with bright purple goo all over my head and she still decided to be my friend.  Now that I think about it, the purple goo is probably WHY she decided to be my friend.  She loaned me her first bike, Pearl, and gave me the kick in the butt needed to do this.  Bex, my bike mom.

Yep, I looked ridiculous.  I was scared outta my mind and pictured myself being run over about a hundred times before I got to work.  But I did it. 

Guess how I’m getting home?

 

 

 

 

 

Facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditpinterestlinkedintumblrmailby feather