thankful thursday #49

It's so late here!  This Thursday has just slipped right on by me!

I had my blog post for today all ready to go, and then circumstances changed.  What I thought I'd be thankful for today is now on hold for at least another week.  So stay tuned for that.  Boo.

In other news, one of my dear office friends thought it would be fun for some of us at work to do something fun together after hours.  We have a lot of fun in the office, so why not take it out, yes?

Yes, super idea.

"Let's go to the haunted house!" she suggested.

No, not a super idea.

Y'all, ever since walking through the haunted wing at Oconee County Elementary School's Halloween Carnival circa 1985 (obviously this preceeded the politically correct "Fall Festivals"), I've been terrified of haunted houses.

And I was pretty sure the adult version would be a gazillion times worse than what I remembered.

It was.

I was a team player and went, and we're all laughing and telling funny stories about it now, but when I tell you I was miserable for every second of those fifty minutes, I am not exaggerating.

Call me crazy, but I am creeped out by strange people in ridiculous costumes breathing on my neck and growling my name.

It was awful. 

I dreaded that night from the day it was planned for two solid weeks.  So you will not be surprised that today, I'm so thankful that it's over, and I lived to tell about it.

What's your scariest haunted house experience?  Are you thankful when they're over?

Go on, be grateful!

pumpkin muffins

I love a dense muffin.  The chocolate chip muffins at City Bagel Café are to-die-for -- not oily, not super fluffy, and well, dense.  I've never grasped how to get that consistency, but I've not actively pursued the perfect dense muffin recipe, either.

Well.  I heard someone this weekend discussing this recipe.  Actually, it's so easy, "recipe" might even be a strong word.  I only tried it because I didn't believe it could possibly be edible.

Pumpkin Muffins

1 box of yellow cake mix (I used a Pillsbury one, with pudding in the mix)
1 small can of pumpkin (not pumpkin pie mix, but pure pumpkin)

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees.  Using an elextric mixer, combine the cake mix and the pumpkin (do not add eggs, do not add oil, do not collect $200 and do not pass go).  Pop some cupcake wrappers into a muffin tin, and grease them up with cooking spray.  Spoon the batter evenly into a dozen wrappers.  Bake for 20-23 minutes, or (to be like all other baking recipes), "until a toothpick inserted comes out clean."

These are so quick, so easy, so cheap, kind-of healthy (muffin health is relative, people), and an intriguing conversation piece.  And they're deliciously dense.

Don't be a doubter; give them a go.  You know you want to!

french cuisine and the teacher's pet

Lori, my foodie friend, is well known for her excellence in gift-giving.

For my birthday this year, she bought two spots for us in a Saturday morning cooking class at Cafe de Paris, a Birmingham restaurant that features French cuisine.  (When I tell you her gifting is legit, I do not lie!)

She and I arrived this morning to fresh-baked croissants, hot bacon, orange juice and coffee, and an eclectic bunch of classmates.

In particular, when I overheard one of them speaking in French to the chef, I immediately identified her as the teacher's pet and decided to keep her at a safe distance.

After a leisurely brunch, Chef Serge showed us to our preparation table, and I suited up with a spunky red apron and my game face.



Chef Serge was a delight, encouraging us in his heavy French accent to talk to our food, and preaching that anyone can make magic in the kitchen.  I loved the way his passion for food sort of bubbled out of him so effortlessly.

His big life truth came through a wine tasting, which I found a little bit humorous.  He explained that while we were all tasting the same wine, we'd each experience something different, because after all, we are each unique, and made with different palates.

Palates aside, I was just thankful in that moment to be quite different from Teacher's Pet.  Upon our first chopping exercise, she was quick to share that she had been a sous chef in Chapel Hill some thirty years ago.

That might have been interesting, except her head was close to exploding, her ego was so out of control.

We pressed on, though, and Chef Serge guided us through recipes for a tomato and zucchini quiche, and an almond pear tart, both of which involved from-scratch dough, which never really goes well with me in the kitchen.

That could have been cause for serious trepidation, but in the end Lori and I were pleased with our crust, and with the finished products.



Speaking of crusts, I overheard Teacher's Pet commenting that someone's crust was "overworked" and "not flaky, like it's made here in the South."  I felt sorry for Chef Serge then, since she apparently is a regular at his restaurant.

Later when she pressed him, asking multiple times if he was sure the pear tart recipe didn't call for butter, I wanted to punch her in the face.

On a brighter note, one of my favorite things about today was that we didn't have to clean up our delicious mess that we left behind.



Although Teacher's Pet was a grace-stretcher, she absolutely did not steal my joy.  I indulged in every bite of every last comforting carbohydrate.

It was a happy way to start my day off, and I plan to go back and visit Chef Serge and his sous chef.



The real sous chef, that is.  Not Teacher's Pet.

thankful thursday #48

October 21st of this year has been circled on my calendar since May (and not because Harold Camping's predicted May rapture was revised to October 21st).

In May, I knew what my fall travel schedule would be, and October 21-23 would be my first weekend off since the start of the college football season.

And oh, October 21, I thought you'd never get here!

Praise Jesus, tomorrow begins a mini-vacay for me, and I am super-thankful for it.

I've got a few fun things up my sleeve that may or may not be recapped here in a few days.

But either way, I'm just so excited about my days off tomorrow and Saturday I can barely contain myself!

What's giving you a little pep in your step today?  Go on, be grateful!

operation pantry overhaul

I woke up this morning with this crazy urge to organize my pantry.

Random, yes?

I went nuts.

It started here ...



Not terrible, but not great.

I remember when I was very young, and my grandmother Frosty decided she and I were going to organize my closet.  The first thing we did was empty the space, down to the very last hanger.

I remember thinking, "Is that really necessary?  Seems excessive."

Of course now, I know there is no other way!  To skip this step ...



... would be taking an organizing short cut, and that's no good.

I threw out an embarrassing amount of food, and inventoried and categorized the items that were keepers.

I left everying strewn across kitchen counters and was entirely too excited to head to Bed, Bath and Beyond (am I the only one who feels led to add a comma in that store's name?) to explore its selection of containers, baskets, trays, and shelves.

For a second there, I considered a career change to professional organizing, but then I remembered that my pantry and closet hardly compare to the average American hoarder.

So I scooted through the aisles, picked up a slew of organizing happies (these being the most exciting), and returned to the mission.

And when all was said and done ...



... I was pleased, and my pantry thanked me.

It's a good day.

thankful thursday #47

Tonight I hosted my Bible study gals for the first time since I got the fall itch, so it was time to whip up some comfort foods in honor of my favorite season.

Although rare to attempt in one day, and particularly for unsuspecting guests, I experimented with two new recipes.  And as I like to offer balance, that always means one savory and one sweet.

The savory is not yet ready to be published.  It needs some tweaking (Read: Needs more cheese and butter) before it's worthy to be shared.  But I'll keep working on that, and you stay tuned.

All you need to know for now is Cheesy Garlic Bread Goodness.

On the other hand, the sweet recipe of the night made the cut.  Short of buying prepared caramel dip in the store for your fall apples, this is the easiest apple dip you'll ever make:

Cinnamon Apple Dip

1 pkg. cream cheese (as always, I go with the whipped for easy mixing)
1/2 c. packed brown sugar (I used light, but I imagine dark is fine too)
1-2 tsp. cinnamon (however much tickles your taste buds)
1 tsp. vanilla extract
Favorite apple slices (I'm a Granny Smith girl, all the way)

Mix together the cream cheese and brown sugar until well blended.  Add cinnamon and vanilla, and serve with apples.  (Side note: I made this ahead of time and popped it in the fridge overnight.  Best to take the chill off before serving, so it's super dippable.  No one likes a stiff dip.)

It's like eating cinnamon apples, but cream cheese and brown sugar really take it to the next level of glory.

And since that one was so darn easy, here's another apple one, just for kicks and giggles:

Fake Caramel Dipped Apples

Apple slices (again, go Granny!)
Prepared caramel dip (from the produce section usually, near the apples, go figure)
Crushed up peanuts

Chop up those apples into bite-sized pieces and put them in your favorite cereal bowl.  Drizzle them with caramel and sprinkle the peanuts on top.  It tastes just like those caramel and nut dipped apples on a stick, but waaay easier to eat.  Thank you, Nikol, for changing my world.

Gosh, I love fall!  Thankful for those oh-so-bearable temperatures outside.  Hot tea.  Danskos.  Apples.

What're the fall lovelies that make you happy?  Go on, be grateful!

the colla voce smack-down

I've mentioned before of my participation in Colla Voce, also known as, the choir that far exceeds my talent level.  It's a beautiful picture of personal humility.

We are in the throes of our fall season rehearsals, and we are under the direction of a new conductor.

In the transition from old director to new, it did not take long to realize that the two directors' styles are vastly different from each other, and I could only hope that his different pace -- this new process -- would culminate in a concert worthy of our congregation's time.

At some point along the way, I subconsciously decided to trust our leader.  To trust his knowledge.  To trust his method.  To trust his timing.

To let go of even the slightest idea that the old way -- the familiar way -- was better.

And then I got the big, red-letter spiritual smack-down: I'm like this all the time under the Lord's leadership.

Just today, I read this little nugget from a devotional called Jesus Calling, by Sarah Young:

Trust me enough to let things happen without striving to predict or control them.  Relax, and refresh yourself in the light of my everlasting love.  My love-light never dims, yet you are often unaware of my radiant presence.

When you project yourself into the future, rehearsing what you will do or say, you are seeking to be self-sufficient: to be adequate without my help.  This is a subtle sin -- so common that it usually slips by unnoticed.

I (obviously) could not have said it better myself.

thankful thursday #46

On Tuesday, Lori and I had the rare chance to enjoy a spontaneous lunch together at Urban Standard, a young, hip restaurant here in town.

They have a pretty fabulous menu, so the entrees alone were delightful.

Perhaps more noteworthy, though, was the dessert counter.  Although it was my first time there, I could tell right away that those desserts were no joke.

I rarely buy desserts, now.  I'd rather have an ooey-gooey cheesy bite of anything over a sweet any day of the week.

But these?



Yes ma'am, that is cookie dough atop a fudgy bite of brownie goodness.

Whoah, Nelly.

I nursed mine for two days.  I was sad to polish it off yesterday.

At some point, I want to try to make them.  Lori (another reason she's a dear one) immediately located this recipe that I think will be the go-to when the time is right.

I can't yet, because it's just too soon.  I haven't had time to totally emerge from the sugar-induced coma.

But in the meantime, I'm thankful for foodie friends like Lori; venturing into fun restaurants for the first time; and for Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Brownies.

That made for one mighty satisfying day.

What's satisfying you and keeping you thankful this week?  Go on, be grateful!

third annual dansko expedition

Last year Nikol and I admitted that we had a slightly unhealthy obsession with Dansko clogs, and ultimately just owned it.

We declared the annual purchase of a new pair an official friendship tradition, and today was the day!

Really, I was prepared to leave the store empty-handed, because I need another pair of clogs like I need a hole in the head.

But when I tried talking myself out of a purchase out loud, Nikol was a good friend and justified, "But it's tradition."

She is a good friend.  This pair just was not meant to be left lonely on the shelf.



These are ultra-basic, but are classic, a little bit distressed, and oh-so-comfy.  They deserve some worn jeans and a cozy sweater.

Couldn't pass 'em up.

Nor a good tradition!

meeting nathan

I asked him what his name was.

“Nathan.  And my dad’s is ‘Daddy.’”

He was five-ish.  His ball cap swallowed his little head, and he gripped his dad’s hand while we weaved through the mobs of people and walked together from Gate 19 to Gate 26.

On the walk to the other side of the stadium, I learned that they lived a couple of hours away.  They didn’t have season tickets, but they’d managed to get two tickets in the general seating section to today's non-conference game.

It was Nathan’s first ever game at his dad’s alma mater, and he didn’t know where we were going, or why I was escorting them around the entire stadium.  He was just happy to be there.

“Well I'm Robyn, and I'm just so happy y'all are here today.  When we get there, help yourselves to the buffets; the ice cream; the popcorn and candy; and all the drinks you’d like.  You can come inside when you get cold, or want to watch some other games on TV for a bit.”

Nathan’s dad looked at me with eyes that said, “Are you serious?  What did we do to deserve this?”  Nathan only perked up at the mention of ice cream.

I accompanied them through Gate 26, ensured their tickets were scanned and their wristbands were secured, and the elevator waited for us as if we were royalty.

We exited onto the fourth floor where I greeted our usher.  “Hi, Mike.  This is Robert and Nathan.  It’s their first time here, and I was hoping you could show them around the East Club.”

Mike is one of the friendliest ambassadors of his university you’ll ever meet.  He gave Nathan a hand-shake, and told him they were serving banana splits today, just for him.

I wished Robert and Nathan a great day, and went about my work.

Fifteen minutes earlier, I had been given two premium seating tickets and was told that the anonymous donor wanted them to be given only to a father and his son.

I scanned the sea of fans streaming into the stadium, and I looked for what I envisioned to be the perfect father-son pair.  I picked Robert and Nathan out of the crowd and called out, “Excuse me, sir?  Are y’all here today with anyone?”

“No, just me and him,” Robert answered.

And that’s how I met Nathan and his dad, and that’s how a wealthy man blessed two strangers today.

Just over a year ago, I wrote a short post after a particularly discouraging game day.  It was literally titled, “Why I Hate My Job.”  I didn’t publish it, of course, because nothing good was going to come from that.

But today, I secretly watched Nathan and his dad from afar, sitting on the front row of the East Club, on the fifty yard line.  Enjoying ice cream by the big screen video board.  Sharing a box of popcorn.  Taking pictures together in their special seats.

Receiving an unexpected blessing.

Y’all, that made my entire football season.  There really are good, generous people out there who aren't greedy for glory.

People who, unbeknownst to them, invite little ol' hospitality professionals like me to play a part in making someone's day extra special.

Today, I love my job.