Just because I like country music, muddin, guns, and big trucks doesn't mean I'm a hick.

When I was a kid we lived on top of a mountain in a fairlyrural part of Pennsylvania.  Our home was surrounded mostly by forests andfarms.   However, it wasn’t uncommon tosee run down houses with livestock running amok on the property.  The yards of many of the homes were litteredwith broken down cars, machinery, furniture and all manner of stuff. 

All lot of folks around could easily be classified as whatsupposedly cultured individuals would call hicks . . . but they were mostly good,hard-working people. 

What exactly is a hick anyway?  Yeah, I know it’s a redneck . . . that’s notwhat I mean. 

What is the origin of the word?  Well, I wassurprised to discover that "hick" is nothing more than a 16th centuryfamiliar form of the proper name "Richard."

Way back then, the name “Richard” was considered a commoner’sname . . . not a name bestowed upon the boys of the upper classes.

That’s pretty interesting considering that the name “Richard”is derived from the Old English word “ric” meaning “ruler”. 

Richard is often diminutived to Rich, Richie, Rick, andRicket; from Rich you got Hitch and from Ricket you got Hicket. . . and then there’sHick and Dick from Rick.

“Dick”, of course, is not only linked with the name “Richard”these days.  But before “dick” becameassociated with the manliest of man parts, it was commonly used as a shortenedversion of the words declaration & dictionary and then came to be anickname for policemen.  

The origin of “dick”,as in the one-eyed-wonder-worm, is dubious but it wasn’t because some obscure “Richard”was being a wiener.  The word wasn’t usedin a derogatory fashion until the 1960’s . . . it’s probably some hipster bastardizationof the word.

Anyway . . . “hick” as used as a nickname is no longer inuse . . . unless of course you’re describing a country bumpkin.

Cocoa Banana Frozen Dessert

4 Ripe Bananas (Very Ripe Preferably)

2 Tablespoons Pure Unsweetened Cocoa Powder

1 Teaspoon Pure Vanilla Extract

2 Tablespoons Maple Syrup

Peel the bananas and place them in a blender or foodprocessor together with the cocoa powder.

Add the vanilla extract and the maple syrup.

Blend until very smooth. Pour into individual custard cupsor small bowls and freeze till just frozen.

Though we adore men individually, we agree that as a group they're rather stupid.

Ladies, have you ever noticed that when you ask a man to getsomething for you it seems he can never seem to find it?  Whether it be milk from the refrigeratoror  a stamp to mail a letter.

It’s called man eyes and they all seem to have the sameproblem.

You know how it is . . . you send him to get it and chancesare pretty high that he won’t be able to find it.

I have theory on this phenomenon. 

This is what I believe happens.  You ask with a please and a thank you and allother manner of politeness.  Then suddenly,without inexplicably the man is struck blind . . . selectively blind . . . man eyes.

He can maneuver about without bumping into walls or fallingover furniture but as he approaches his target his vision is suddenly impaired. . . its kind of like reverse tunnel vision. 

My experience has been that its just easier to go and getwhatever it is I need for myself.

And that, girlfriends, is what it all boils down to.  it’s not that they can’t see . . . it’s that they won’tsee. 

If they do it enough times they know that you willeventually give up and stop asking them to do anything for you.  It’s a conspiracy at the highest levels ofmanly deception.

And all you men out there?? We are on to you!

Mormon PeachCobbler

The fruit, usually immersed in a sweet syrup, istraditionally covered with a biscuit topping so that it has the rough, unevenappearance of cobblestones—hence the name “cobblers”.  

Preheat the ovento 350 degrees.

Fruit Mixture

1 29 Ounce SizeCan Of Sliced Peaches In Syrup

1 TablespoonCornstarch

1/2 TeaspoonCinnamon

1/4 TeaspoonNutmeg

Drain the juiceinto a saucepan.  Mix a little of the juice with cornstarch to make a softpaste and add the paste to the rest of the juice.  Add the spices.

Heat until bubbly,stirring as needed.  The syrup should thicken to a slurry.

Pour the slurry andpeaches into a small casserole dish.

Topping

1 Egg

1/3 Cup Milk

4 TablespoonsButter, Melted

1 Cup Flour

1/4 Cup Sugar

2 Teaspoons BakingPowder

1/4 Teaspoon Salt

In a medium bowl,whisk the butter, milk, and egg together.  Add the sugar and stir.

Combine the dryingredients and add them to the liquid mixture.   Stir until wellcombined.

Spoon over thepeach mixture so that the fruit is covered.

Bake for 45minutes or until the top is a golden brown.

Serve hot or cold withvanilla ice cream or even cold milk or crème anglaise.

Though we adore men individually, we agree that as a group they're rather stupid.


Mary Poppins

After all, a girl is... well, a girl. It's nice to be told you're successful at it.

Hubby and I went to a social gathering this weekend for bloggers in my region.  Most of them are men, most them blog about guns, politics and the like.





I'm not opposed to any of those things . . . I just choose not to blog about them.  During the course of dinner, beer and conversation, our "social director" commented that I have a "chick" blog.  Wha . . . what?? Me?  A girlie blog?



Sure, I'm a girl  . . . but still . . . 

I hadn't ever considered it.  But now that he mentioned it, it's kind of bothering me.  I ain't no girlie-girl.  I didn't think I was writing about womanly thingie-doodles or even feminine what-cha-ma-call-its.


What's my blog about?  Stuff . . . by me . . . a chick.  Sure, I almost always include a recipe or some sort of crafty thing or something, but I just write about stuff.  I don't consider it girl stuff . . . I kind of think it's gender neutral.  If I wanted to write about girl stuff I'd be writing about stuff like this or even this (proceed to links if you're man enough).


Why is it bothering me?  I don't know.  I just . . . don't . . .  know.


Chocolate will make me feel better!


That is all.

Chocolate Mousse

4 1/2 Ounces Bittersweet Chocolate, Finely Chopped

2 Tablespoons Unsalted Butter, Diced

2 Tablespoons Espresso or Very Strong Coffee 

1 Cup Cold Heavy Cream

3 Large Eggs, Separated

1 Tablespoon Sugar

Whip the cream to soft peaks, then refrigerate.

Combine the chocolate, butter, and espresso in the top of adouble boiler over hot, but not simmering, water, stirring frequently untilsmooth. Remove from the heat and let cool until the chocolate is just slightlywarmer than body temperature. To test, dab some chocolate on your bottom lip.It should feel warm. If it is too cool, the mixture will seize when the otheringredients are added.

Once the melted chocolate has cooled slightly, whip the eggwhites in a medium bowl until they are foamy and beginning to hold a shape.Sprinkle in the sugar and beat until soft peaks form.

When the chocolate has reached the proper temperature, stirin the yolks. Gently stir in about one-third of the whipped cream. Fold in halfthe whites just until incorporated, then fold in the remaining whites, andfinally the remaining whipped cream.

Spoon or pipe the mousse into a serving bowl or individualdishes. If you wish, layer in fresh raspberries and whipped cream. Refrigeratefor at least 8 hours. (The mousse can be refrigerated for up to a day.)

Serves 5-8, depending on the size of the servings.

After all, a girl is... well, a girl. It's nice to be told you're successful at it.


Rita Hayworth

Awareness without action is worthless

One of my weekendpleasures is watching old movies . . . old like from the 40’s, 50’s and 60’s.  I like to plop myself down on the couch witha ball of yarn and a crochet hook or knitting needles, watch the classics andjust chill.

I don’t know if thosemovies depict how people really interacted or spoke but it’s good cleanfun.  Sometimes the dialogue includes aword that gets stuck in my head, a word that isn’t used in modern everydayconversation.  It dig, dig, digs.  Eventually, I make the effort to check itout. 

One word that comesto mind is ‘picayune’.  I heard it in themovie Mr. Skeffington from 1944 starring Bette Davis and Claude Rains.  Bette was nominated for an Oscar for herperformance.  But that’s neither here nor there . . . thepoint is that that silly word is now stuck in my brain and I’m here to purgeit.

This is what Ifound out about picayune . . .

Used up until themid-1800’s, a picayune was a small Spanish coin, worth half a real . . . aboutsix cents.  Interestingly, the word isactually derived from a French word meaning ‘small coin’.

Eventually, a ‘picayune’came to mean something that is piddling or worthless.

So there you haveit.

Like white on rice

Honky . . . a favorite word used by George Jefferson in the70’s sitcom.  Mr. Jefferson was moving onup to the east side; to a de-luxe apartment in the sky who finally got a pieceof the pie.

Honky . . . a word used by blacks to refer to whites.  It’s not particularly harsh sounding consideringit’s a racial slur . . . it’s actually a funny word. 

The origin of this word could be a twist on words from thenative language of two distinct groups . . . one from immigrants, the other fromslaves.

Honky may be a variation of hunky, which was a variant ofBohunk, This was a derogatory term for Bohemian, Hungarian, and Polishimmigrants that in the early 1900’s.  According to a couple of sources, black factoryworkers picked up the term from white workers and began applying itindiscriminately to all white folks and it caught on.

Honky may also have derived from the African term "xonqnopp" (the ‘x’ is pronounced as an ‘h’) which literally means "whiteperson". The term may have originated with Wolof-speaking slaves broughtto the US.

Maybe because it’s more colorful, I’m going with that theword honky dates back to the 1920’s.  Supposedly,the word came about because of the practice of white men who would venture intothe red light districts seeking to pick of African-American prostitutes.  Those parts of town weren’t necessarily thebest of areas. So the theory is that the curb-crawlers were afraid to stoptheir cars and would honk their car horns to draw the hookers to them.  Eventually, black people started to call thejohns “honkies” and it became a part of the common vernacular.

Furnishing gratification of the senses

Do you remember Max Headroom?  No, I don’t mean the overhead signs warning of low over passes.  I’m talk about THE Max Headroom!

He was basically a head in a box . . . with very little head room.  If you don’t remember him, he was a pseudo-computer generated image . . . he was never really computer generated . . . in the days way before the World Wide Web and cyberstuff. 

 

Interestingly enough, despite the fact that the current technology of the 80’s wasn’t anywhere nearly as advanced as what the television show depicted, it was a remarkably accurate representation of what was to come.

 

Perhaps Max saw a little further than "20 minutes into the future".  Does any of this sound familiar?

Webcams . . . computer controlled cameras . . . long before such a thing was a reality.

  

Artificial intelligence . . . much like Max  . . . assisting in the use of computer software.  You know, like Clippy.

Gotomeeting and Netmeeting . . . who would have imagined such a thing was possible 30 years ago? 

Web polls . . . you see them every day on websites from Facebook to FoxNews.

Flash Advertsing . . . called BlipVerts in Max-speech.  You know those annoying ads that pop up all over the place while your browsing the internet?  Yeah, those things.

The show even portrayed such computer maladies as computer viruses and hijacking.  In fact, one episode showed Max invading an enemy's computer network with an image of a wooden Trojan horse!   

The show even went further by building “firewalls” to protect Max’s systems.  

I think it's interesting that the show predicted so much technology hardly conceived of at the time.  Even cooler that he looked computer generated when it was a live actor  . . . Matt Frewer . . . with a head piece.

CARNATION® Famous Fudge

1 1/2 Cups Granulated Sugar

2/3 Cup (5 Fl.-Oz. Can) Nestlé® Carnation® Evaporated Milk

2 Tablespoons Butter Or Margarine

1/4 Teaspoon Salt

2 Cups Miniature Marshmallows

1 1/2 Cups (9 Oz.) Nestlé® Toll House® Semi-Sweet Chocolate Morsels

1/2 Cup Chopped Pecans Or Walnuts (Optional)

1 Teaspoon Vanilla Extract

Line a 8-inch-square pan with foil.

Combine sugar, evaporated milk, butter and salt in medium, heavy-duty saucepan. Bring to a full rolling boil over medium heat, stirring constantly. Boil, stirring constantly, for 4 to 5 minutes. Remove from heat.

Stir in marshmallows, morsels, nuts and vanilla extract. Stir vigorously for 1 minute or until marshmallows are melted. Pour into prepared baking pan; refrigerate for 2 hours or until firm. Lift from pan; remove foil. Cut into 48 pieces.

Quick, easy, yummly!

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned

A man cruised down to the biker bar on his Harley Davidson motorcycle . . . for the purposes of this blog I’ll call him Ziggy . . . where he hung out drinking and shooting pool for several hours . . . way past the time when he told his wife he’d be home.  His wife . . . I’ll call her Donna . . . called the bar looking for him.  The bartender answered the phone and shouted across the barroom . . . “Hey Zig, you’re wife is on the phone.” 

Ziggy exclaimed, “Oh crap!  Tell her I’m not here.  ”.   Of course, all the while the bartender is holding out the phone and Donna can hear him as clear as if he were talking into the mouthpiece.  The bartender sighs and says, “he’s not here”, and proceeds to hang up the phone.

Naturally, this isn’t the first time Ziggy’s tried to pull a fast one on her and, then to add insult to injury, she got hung up on.  Now she’s rip-roarin’ pissed off.  Donna’s not one to just to sit back and let things go, so she heads off to the bar the get her husband.

One of the bikers hanging outside smoking a cigarette recognizes Donna’s car as she pulled into the parking lot.  He popped his head inside and yelled, “hey Ziggy, you’re wife is here.”

Ziggy exclaimed, “Oh crap!” And, instead of facing his petite little darlin’, he crouched down behind the pinball machines to hide. Heh . . . a real manly man, eh?

Donna storms through the door and demands to talk to her husband.  The bartender says, ‘I already told you he wasn’t here, Donna.”

So she says, “Dude, I know he’s here”.   And proceeds to look for him.  She looks under the tables, behind the bar, in the bathrooms and there’s no sign of Ziggy.

The bartender says, “I told you he wasn’t here” as he steers her towards the door and outside.

Donna knows he’s inside the bar somewhere.  She’s not stupid.  After all, his motorcycle is sitting right outside the bar in the parking lot.   

Donna was ticked off before and now she was double . . . nay. . . triply enraged.  She walks right up to the bike and kicks it over.

The bartender, who was still outside waiting for her to leave, yelled inside . . .”Hey, Ziggy, your wife just dumped your bike.”

Ziggy exclaimed, “Oh crap! “

True story . . . Hell hath no fury and all that stuff.

____________________________________

Key Lime Pie


5 egg yolks, beaten
1 (14 ounce) can sweetened condensed milk
1/2 cup key lime juice
1 (9 inch) prepared graham cracker crust

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F.


Combine the egg yolks, sweetened condensed milk and lime juice. Mix well. Pour into unbaked graham cracker shell.


Bake in preheated oven for 15 minutes. Allow to cool. Top with whipped topping and garnish with lime slices if desired.

Mary, you're a fine girl

Back when hubby and I were first dating he was living in New Jersey.  The Garden State has its fair share of weirdness, from the New Jersey Devil which is said to haunt the Pine Barrens of the southern part of the state to the Gates of Hell which are supposedly located in Clifton.

One such strange place is near the Raritan River in New Brunswick. Located in the parking lot of a strip mall. . . imagine that, a strip mall in New Jersey!   Anyhoo, located in the middle of this parking lot is a small family graveyard.  The cemetery is about 6 feet above ground and is shored up by a retaining wall.  The weirdness continues when you consider that if the bodies are buried six feet down they would still be above ground.

Most people are familiar with the 1972 hit "Brandy (You're a Fine Girl)" by Looking Glass.  The lyrics tell the story of a barmaid in a port town. She is courted by many sailors, but her heart belongs to only one man.  Her true love is a sailor and his first love is the sea.  She waits for him wearing a braided silver chain with a locket that bears his name.  It has been suggested that the song was inspired by the real life story of Mary Ellis, whose grave resides in that very same cemetery.  It’s a distinct possibility considering that Looking Glass is from New Brunswick, New Jersey.

Mary Ellis came to New Brunswick in the 1790's to stay with her younger sister.  There she met and fell in love with a man who was a sea captain, and former Revolutionary War officer. The Captain sailed down the Raritan and out to sea one day, vowing that when he returned he and Mary would be wed. He even left her his beloved horse to look after in his absence.

Every day thereafter, Mary would ride his horse from her sister's house to the banks of the river to eagerly await a glimpse of her lover's returning ship.

Over nearly 15 years after her beloved had sailed off into the sunset, Mary purchased a parcel of farmland overlooking the river from which she would maintain her daily vigil. Mary died there fourteen years later in 1827, still faithfully anticipating her captain's return. She was buried on the property, along with her sister, some other family members, and according to local lore, the captain's horse.

The property eventually fell into ruin but the little cemetery was maintained by her descendents from time to time but it was often so overgrown that one could park right next to the grave without even realizing that there were graves nearby.

Eventually, the site was redeveloped and the retaining wall was built.  

Hubby took me to see the graveyard and it is surely something odd to see.  But cool in a bizarre kind of way.

Chocolate Mocha Cake in a Mug

•           2 Tbsp Flour

•           3 Tbsp Sugar

•           2 Tbsp Cocoa Powder

•           1 Egg

•           2 Tbsp Milk

•           2 Tbs Oil

•           3 Tbsp Chocolate Chips, Semi Sweet

•           1 Tbsp Instant Coffee

•           Dash Of Vanilla

•           Hot Fudge Sauce

•           Ice Cream, Optional

Add flour, sugar and cocoa to a large, microwavable mug.

Add egg and mix. 

Add milk and oil and mix.

Add coffee and chips and stir.

Add vanilla and stir well, making sure there are no lumps and all dry ingredients are well incorporated.

Place in microwave for 2 minutes on high.

Add warm chocolate sauce then top with ice cream.