Beyond Thanksgiving...Butt I'm Thankful for So Much!

Thought I'd do a Thanksgiving Roundup, of sorts, since I'm thankful for so much these days...

First off, I'm thankful that I found the above Superior Snap, just in time for the I *Heart* Faces We *Heart* Tooshies Contest. Pictured above are Ella Numera Dos & Robert John Burke, also known in NYC as The Naked Cowboy. Yes, the young man earns in the 6 figures every year, posing in almost the all-together at the intersection of Broadway & 7th Avenue. In all kinds of weather, I might add. Although we lucked out with a sunny day for the taking of this shot, temps hovered in the 60s. TNC says he wears double tighty-whities on days if it gets much cooler than this. BTW...You put the tips in his boots, ladies!

I'm thankful that the entire totality of La Familia Scribe was able to gather around my Martha Stewart table for a Thanksgiving feast that couldn't be beat. Ella Dos will be hanging around a while longer. Her college cancelled the "stupid 2 weeks" between Turkey Day & Christmas Break in a cost-cutting move. Makes an awful lot of sense to moi. Ella Numera Una is back crackin' the books again, preparing to sit for her first-ever law school exams. Wish her luck!

I'm thankful that I had 4 whole days to relax & de-stress, without a pint of Ben & Jerry's in sight! Well, we did consume mass quantities of pie, but that's good for one's soul, correctamundo?

I'm thankful that the weather cooperated, & I was able to get out for a couple of long walks. I'm a "destination walker," so put on my ramblin' shoes & set out for a local coffee shop on Friday, thinking I had about 2 miles to go. Turns out I journeyed a total of 6 miles roundtrip, & was none the worse for it, so...I hiked up there again yesterday. Gotta melt that pie off my hips somehow...

I'm thankful that I was able to re-connect, if however briefly, with a whole herd of folks who were back for the Turkey Day weekend. Saw several of las amigas de mis chicas, just out and about~Jen on the bike path to town; Katherine in her beat-up old VW; Lauren hoofin' it up the hill. Shannon & Lesley came by for an extended layover Saturday nite. Always good to hear the laughter of children in the house, even though those youngun's are practically all growed up by now.

I'm thankful I got through the entire month of November w/o having a NaBloPoMo Meltdown. I generally post on a daily schedule, but when required to do so, there's just so much more pressure. Today's the last day of the challenge, though, & I can say the 11th Month has proven to be an unqualified success for Your Humble Scribe!

And finally, I'm thankful that the Turkey Day leftovers are slowly, but surely, receding from my fridge. And that I was able to wrangle a few good recipes for said leftovers. Now, Mr. Fairway doesn't really abide by spinach, but I think I'll surprise him with this little number, anyway. Wish me luck!

Crustless Turkey Quiche

Ingredients:

4 ounces cream cheese, cubed while cold, then softened
4 eggs, beaten
¾ cup sour cream
½ cup heavy cream
¼ tsp ground white pepper
½ tsp celery salt
½ tsp onion salt
9-oz. steamed spinach
½ cup grated parmigiano reggiano (divided)
1½ cups cooked turkey or chicken, cubed

Method:

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F.

In a mixer, food processor or with a hand mixer, mix together all the liquid ingredients, the pepper and the salts. Taste and adjust the seasoning if necessary. In the meantime, steam the spinach for about 5 minutes, until it starts to wilt. Add the spinach to the liquid ingredients.

Turn into a large bowl and add the rest of the ingredients, saving out about a third of the Parmesan for garnish. Mix together gently until thoroughly incorporated.

Spread the mixture in a 9- to 10-inch pie plate. Sprinkle over with reserved Parmesan. Bake until quiche is set and the peaks are nicely brown, about 40 minutes.

Variation: If you want something more substantial, you could serve it in a store-bought crust (yay for Pillsbury!). Obviously, you'd then put the crust in a well-greased pie plate before you dump the rest of the ingredients in.

Enjoy!

Look, Ma, No Hands!

Shot by Ella Numera Dos at a college pie-eating contest last Spring. Thought I'd run this one by you, in honor of Turkey Day and, of course, my recent Pie Adventures.

Y'all know what to do, correctamundo? Take a gander at this Superior Snap. Then, conjure a caption for said snap, & tippy-type your creation in the comments section of this post. And that's all there is to it. You might say this assignment is "Easy as pie"...

Of course, you'll win nothing tangible for all your toil & trouble. Just the knowledge that you gave a whole herd of us a good giggle today. And what could be better than that?

She's Got Spirit...And Your Vote?

Clang the cow bell for MOO!

That time of year again, Scribe Fans! Some of you long-time followers might remember that The Scholastic Scribe was involved in a closer-than-close contest for Best Individual Blog about 1 year ago this month, in a competition known as The Edublog Awards. In fact, I lost by 9 votes, if I recall.

As we all know, close only counts in horseshoes & hand grenades...

Well, The Eddies have rolled around once more, with a couple of cool categories. And I'm making my own nominations this time around. Chief among them? Why, MOO, Ella Numera Dos' outstanding photoblog. And, yes, that is my youngest pictured above, decked out all her summer swim-team coach finery!

Here's the scoop:

Nominations are open until December 8; voting ends December 16. So, you've got plenty of time to put your own nominees forward for the 2009 Eddies. And hold on tight...be assured that Mrs. Scribe will let you know when the voting commences.

Cue the drumroll, please. I hereby nominate the following outstanding blogs for the 2009 Edublog Awards:

Best new blog: Miss Jo's San Francisco...Artistic, educational, comprehensive. A joy to look at & to read!

Best student blog: MOO...A college kid majoring in photo, she jumped into the blogosphere with enthusiasm & a great deal of God-given talent. Her topics are colorful, stark, informative; eye-candy, with an edge.

Best resource-sharing blog: TeachJ...I always find something of interest over here. He shares my passion for scholastic journalism & a great deal of knowledge with his readers.

Most influential blog post: NYC...There's Something About You...Outstanding for its insight & artistic magnetism. MOO captures The City with an Alfred Stieglitz-like passion...

Best teacher blog: Bellringers...Richie & I must have been separated at birth. She schools her journalistas down Texas-way in quite the Scribe-like fashion, never forgetting that this high school teaching janx is so much more than just a way to pay the rent...

Remember...I'll let you know when the voting gets underway. And thanks to Cate at Show My Face for letting me campaign a little today...

Thanksgiving Reflections

La Familia Scribe added a wee touch of Martha Stewart to our holiday table yesterday. The hollowed-out gourds at each place setting hold votive candles. Saw this cute touch on TV~Kathy Lee & Hoda, I believe. Acquired the lillies & sunflowers at the local grocery store, on sale. The china & silverware are mine.

The antique spinning wheel in the corner, though, isn't a Scribe concoction at all. It's the real deal. Mr. Fairway's grandmother brought it all the way from Norway when she immigrated at the turn of the last century.

Of course, we ate too much & now our fridge is overflowing with food-stuffed Tupperware. If anyone has a couple of good recipes for Thanksgiving leftovers, please send them this way!

But for the Grace of God Go I...

Going freestyle today for Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop. In honor of the holiday & all...

I've used this space as a platform, of sorts, over almost 2 years to speak about the homeless, to honor Yoshio & to remind readers about those less fortunate than we, who get their sustenance~for both body & soul~from non-profits such as Miriam's Kitchen in Downtown DC.

Today's Superior Snap was shot by Ella Numera Dos during a trip to see Miss Jo in San Francisco. The photo is entitled, "Man in the Mission."

Please take a moment on this day of gratitude & gorging to thank someone for making a meaningful difference in your life. And give serious consideration to helping those who can't help themselves. Click on the link below to find out how you can help. And have the Happiest of Thanksgivings, y'all!

Monsters, Inc.

Toy Story

Those who know Mrs. Scribe know that she can't possibly do her job until Room 215 is just right. Beatles posters on the walls. Crippy-crappy~including Green Bay Packers memorabilia~displayed on the shelves behind her desk. And speaking of desks, no real "teacher station" is necessary in Room 215. Give me a writing space~in the case of this year, one of the lab tables from a chemistry classroom~so I can stretch my long, long legs out. A 34-inch inseam, to be precise.

But the school year doesn't really start until the Happy Meal Toys come out to play. And this year, my 200+ collection of plastic paraphernalia didn't make an appearance until about 3 weeks ago.

Can you say "Stressed"? I prefer to say I'm "occupationally challenged." I have too many papers to grade. I have to dust & arrange my HMTs each Fall to make sure the presentation is original & well, happy. I can't do both the grading & the dusting at the same time. Of course, the toys had to be sacrificed to the God of All that is Holy at Our Humble High School~Grades.

Part of this, of course, is my fault. I added 2 Advanced Placement English classes to my schedule this year. And after a couple years off the AP treadmill, I'd forgotten about the sheer volume of student~and therefore, teacher~work. If you want to take the class seriously & if you want the kiddos to learn something, you've got to load them up. As in assignments. Which need to be graded. Lots & lots of A's, B's & mostly C's.

I've been at this teaching janx for going on 16 years. I've got 3 Journalism classes~Intro, Newspaper & Yearbook~on top of the AP gig. But one constant remains in my topsy-turvy schedule.

Students started bringing in Happy Meal Toys to add to my collection way back in the day. I have an expansive set of windows overlooking the senior parking lot, & had put a couple of tiny plastic figurines on the wide stretch of sill. My cherubs thought Winnie the Pooh & Tigger looked lonely, so they started adding contributions, 'til the perch beneath the windows was overflowing with McDonald's memorabilia.

So, something sadly was lacking during first quarter this year. I'd assign a timed essay~the bane of my existence as an AP teacher~and then glance out the window. Every time I looked through that wide expanse of casement windows, I'd remember. My toys still lingered in the closet. Locked up. Gathering dust.

I came in to school on a Saturday a while back. To dust, sort and re-arrange. Sully~he of "Monster's, Inc."~is one of my faves, but I didn't quite feel complete until I pulled Inspector Gadget from the box. At about 14 inches tall, he towers over the other plastic mementoes of Disney flicks, My Little Ponys & the original Pooh & Tigger. He came on the Happy Meal market in 2001, and had to be assembled, in 9 different parts. The good Inspector sported 2 right legs for quite some time. Extra credit to the young lad who stole Gadget's left prosthesis from his little brother's collection.

On that Saturday, at least, the papers, my cherubs, Our Humble High School, could wait. I had something happier on my agenda.

The Packers' Pied Piper...and a PIE!

The Green Bay Packers didn't disappoint yesterday afternoon. Well, they tried to, but San Francisco only clawed its way within 6 points. The Pack won, and is on a 2-game winning streak! But there's always Turkey Day, for those of us cynical Packer Backers who are looking for our 6-4 team to live up to negative expectations. We play Detroit on Thursday. And since we shut the Lions out in October, maybe we can stuff them again on Thanksgiving, huh?

I prefer to look on the bright side. Always have been a glass half-full gal, after all. The Packers have the best fans in the NFL, as evidenced by the spirited sousaphonist, above. Yeah, I know all y'all call that horn a tuba, but you're wrong-O!

Ella Numera Dos' last photo project before breaking for Thanksgiving involved a Green Bay Packers' theme. Entitled "Hometown Pride," her portfolio included 19 Superior Snaps such as this one, featuring what she terms "the craziness" of being a Green Bay Packers' fan. "Yes, some of the fans are a little ridiculous, but that is why they are so fun," Ella Dos points out. The fellow featured here is just the tip of the iceberg known as Lambeau Field & environs. More than one former high school band nerd dusts off an ancient instrument to toot at tailgates & in the stadium every Sunday, for sure!

Please check out Ella Numera Dos' Packer Pride all this week at her photoblog, MOO. The Superior Snap she's showcasing today is a quirky little capture of my SIL's MIL. You'll love it!

Didn't want to let you get away for the holidays without another pie recipe. This one's a tradition...in taste, in calories & in cholesterol. Not for the timid, that's for durn tootin'!

Susie Clark's Pecan Pie

1 cup Karo Syrup

1 tbs. butter

1 cup pecans, broken in pieces

3/4 cup sugar

3 eggs

1 tsp. vanilla

Pillsbury Pie Crust (you know, I always cheat on this part!)

Beat eggs well; mix with sugar. Add remaining ingredients (except the crust, of course), mix real well and pour into an unbaked pie crust. Bake at 350 degrees F for 40-50 minutes, or until a knife comes out clean. We like our pecan pie with vanilla ice cream on top. Enjoy!

Not the Brightest Crayons in the Box

No, Mrs. Scribe doesn't really mean that. But the headline seemed to fit the image, somehow. And if you want to know how they got their hair to stand up like that~water bottles, twisties & a whole heckuva lot of hairspray...

You know what to do, correctamundo? Take a gander at this Superior Snap, which was shot the Friday before Halloween at Our Humble High School. Then, conjur a caption for said snap. Tippy-type that caption, real quick-like, in the comments section of this post.

And there you have it, Scribe Fans! You'll win nothing tangible for all your toil & tribulation. Just the knowledge that you gave all of us a good giggle. And what could be better than that?

Stick a Fork in Me...I'm Done

Looking forward to stuffing myself Thursday!

Meet The Couch. I've written about her before. She resided in my Journalism Office (the classroom that adjoins my classroom, which serves as an annex, oasis & general sanctuary to ne'er-do-wells) from 2001 to 2006.

I think she was born sometime around the mid-'70s. I'm just guessing, because of her hideous plaid pattern. I inherited The Couch after someone else in the building had already had more than their way with her.

The Class of 2007 adored The Couch. So much so that I think they hold a tiny bit of enmity toward Mrs. Scribe for exiling this oozing pile of springs & stuffing to the dump after their junior year. No couch to sit on in 2006-2007. Instead, the kids sat around in a circle on plastic classsroom chairs. Looked like they were fixin' to sing Kumbaya. If someone had pulled out a pitch-pipe, they probably would have. In 4-part harmony, too boot.

My contribution to today's 6-Word Saturday alludes to getting away~from students, from parents, from grading papers. My chicas are coming home soon~one today, one next week. We (the gals in La Familia Scribe, anyway) always sit around in our PJs on Turkey Day. All blessed day long.

No dogs allowed.

Ah, bliss!

The Buck Stops Here...

My neighbors looked out their living room window last Sunday & whom do they see? Mr. & Mrs. 8-Point Buck hanging out near the swingset. I almost couldn't see these dear deer, a) because my eyesight isn't what it used to be, and b) because they were slightly camouflaged by the grass & the leaves.

The thing I find amazing about this snap, however, isn't necessarily the buck & his doe chillin' in the DC 'burbs. It's the reflection of the Red Maple in the window beyond the fence.

Quilly introduced me to Weekend Reflections...I found Camera Critters on my own. You should visit all of them!

Turkey Trot Trauma

Today's Writer's Workshop presents Prompt #1: A Thanksgiving to be Remembered...

Her first Thanksgiving qualified as a bloody disaster.

Turkey? Check! Family & Friends? Check, then check, again! Pretty party dress for the hostess? Oh, but of course! And although we were psyched to the eyeballs to watch our Texas Longhorns ride herd over those nasty Aggies, I don't remember the score. Heck, I don't even remember the game. I'm pretty sure I didn't have time to watch.

Time stood still for me just as I was taking the 25-lb. turkey out of the oven.

A yelp. A shriek. An interjected, "What the effing hell?!?"

I don't remember who invited the dog to my daughter's first Thanksgiving feast. Mr. Fairway said it was moi.

It doesn't matter now. What mattered then was getting the almost-10-month-old to the emergency room. Quick.

Ella Numera Una was a pull-up girl. Well, yes, she did graduate to Pull-Ups when she left diapers behind. But shortly after she learned to crawl, she started hoisting herself up to the standing position. Didn't matter who, what, where, when, why or how, as long as she could get upright, she was all right.

Until she pulled up on Barney. Barney, the older, grouchy, scruffy Westie.

Yup, a Toto Dog~As in the Wizard, Dorothy & Toto, too~snapped at my eldest. Took a chunk out of her upper right lip. She shoulda known better than to have pulled up on his hindquarters. And in the poor dog's defense, he didn't know she was just a curious toddler, trying to stand tall with the big folks.

I don't remember much after that. The turkey made it from the oven to the stovetop, I think. Adrenaline kicked in, and I drove my tiny, howling chica to the ER. Mr. Fairway stayed behind with the guests. I don't know if they watched football. I don't know if they even ate.

Fortunately, we hit the hospital at the right time. The doctor on duty had just finished his residency at Children's Hospital in Cincinnati. He knew that babies needed special care & teeny, tiny needles.

I do remember 22 stitches inside her lip & 47 stitches on the outside. I had to hold a bleeding (note to you who've just embarked on the mommy track~head wounds gush the most, which is a pretty freaky proposition. The good news, though, is they're usually not as bad as they look), screaming toddler down while the good doctor completed his handiwork. But when it was all over, the doc had encouraging words for this newish mom.

"By the time she's old enough to notice, no one but you will be able to notice."

He was right. About the stitches & the resulting scar. I was wrong, about inviting an old, cranky, excitable dog to a fiesta full of animated humans.

The proof is in the pictures, I guess. The Superior Snap above was shot about 3 weeks later, around Christmas. You can see that Ella's upper right lip is swollen & she's got a tiny, upside-down "V" etched there. And if you look at the kid now, you'd never know the trauma she's seen.

I was told later that the turkey was perfection, although no one wanted to eat much. The Longhorns won, I think. And I had to throw away my pretty party dress.

Too much blood.

All I Want from You is...Your Voice

I Need a Kick in the Keister...

I've been neglectful of my cyber-friends this past week~buried under a mountain of mixed metaphors & split infinitives, also known as student papers. I realize that all I really need is a swift kick in the pants to get me going on this grading janx. But, alas, I am the quintessential procrastinator. Keep looking ahead to Thanksgiving Break, thinking this, too, shall pass when the celebrations commence.

Just part of the ebb & flow of being a high school teacher, I reckon. At least I'm not a college soccer player, although Elizabeth Lambert might just give me what I need~plus a whole heckuva lot more, I'd say...

Green Bay Win Over Dallas No Small Potatoes

Green Bay crushed the Dallas Cowboys yesterday. The Superior Snap above was shot by Mark Hoffman of The Journal Sentinel Online, and it pretty much illustrates the ebb & flow of the Packers' season this year. It's either feast or famine, to mix metaphors a tad more.

In other words, a Green Bay win over Dallas, in a season where we also fell to the hapless Tampa Bay Buccaneers, is no small potatoes.

When my family gets in a snit over the Packers' ups & downs, or ins & outs, we turn to comfort foods. Think pork chops, covered in Campbell's Cream of Mushroom Soup, or oven-roasted red potatoes. Here are recipes for both. I'm not claiming any gourmet awards with these dishes, but they do seem to do the trick with La Familia Scribe.

Mrs. Scribe's Pork Chops in Faux-Mushroom Gravy

Package of pork chop loins-about 4 will do

1 can Campbell's Cream of Mushroom Soup

1 large onion

2-3 tbps. olive oil

2 tsp. tarragon

salt & pepper to taste

Put your best cast-iron skillet on the stove, and turn the heat up to medium. Pour the olive oil into the skillet & heat for about 1 minute, making sure to cover the pan. Just as the oil starts to get hot, place the pork chops in the skillet & cook for about 5 minutes, 'til browned on one side. As the pork chops brown, sprinkle 1 tsp. tarragon on the uncooked side, then season with salt & pepper. Turn the pork chops and repeat with the remaining tarragon & the salt & pepper, to taste. Slice your onion & add the slices to the skillet, turning the pork chops and the onion slices, 'til everything's good and covered. Then add the can of undiluted mushroom soup. Turn the pork chops over a few more times; the onion slices should start to come apart, which is good. Get everything all stirred up, turn down the heat, & cover, simmering for about 1 hour. Warning: Don't cook the pork chops on high heat or they'll dry out!

Mrs. Scribe's Oven-Roasted Red Potatoes

Enough tiny red potatoes to serve 4 people

About 1/8-cup olive oil

Salt & pepper to taste

Parmesan cheese

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees F. While the oven's getting hot, clean and quarter the potatoes and place them on a cookie sheet. Drizzle with olive oil. Not too much~don't want your potatoes swimming in grease! Season with salt & pepper. When the oven reaches 425 F, place the cookie sheet with the potatoes on the bottom rack. Roast about 45 minutes, turning a couple of times so the potatoes don't stick. When you can stick a fork in them, remove from the oven and place in a serving dish. Tell your guests to sprinkle their potatoes liberally with parmesan cheese. Just delish!

We Are, Like, Soooooooooo Fetch!

Ella Numera Una had this on her Facebook home page. Have no idea the origin, but it certainly "spoke" to me~in a Silly Sunday Sweepstakes kinda way, if ya know what I mean...

You know what to do, correctamundo? Take a gander at this Superior Snap. Then, conjur a caption for said snap. Tippy-type your caption in the comments section of this post.

And that's all there is to it, Scribe Fans! You will receive nothing tangible for all your toil & trouble~just the knowledge that you gave a whole herd of folks a good giggle today. And what could be better than that?

Three's a Charm, Am I Correctamundo?

May you live long and prosper!

Ella Numera Una & the BF are celebrating 3 years together this weekend. Y'all may remember him from previous posts~with his head in the downtown stockade, flaunting his Flower Power, or dressed as Oscar the Grouch.

The chica keeps giving me a hard time. I've got snaps of My Peeps thru the years on the antique desk upstairs, but have yet to add The BF to this Rogue's Gallery. I probably should do something about that, huh?

Chica, consider it done! Virtually, at any rate. The Superior Snap above was shot at a college formal last year. The one below~from the same venue~is the young couple's attempt to recreate a high school prom pose. They crack me up!

Young Love, brought to you today by Cate, and her 6-Word Saturday.

Another Pleasant Valley Sunday...

I think I've established that I arise at least 2 hours before the crack of dawn, in order to make an appearance each weekday at Our Humble High School.

Don't know if it's hormones, old age, or what, but I've been getting up at Oh, Dark Thirty on the weekends recently, too.

Last Sunday, Mr. Sun was just beginning to peek up over our neighbor's roofline. I grabbed my crappy digital for this Superior Snap. To my surprise, I'm kinda groovin' on the shadows, reflections & funky colors, captured as I looked thru my kitchen window out onto the screen porch & the deck.

That hazy Adirondack chair at the bottom-right of the shot is my paper-grading "throne" in more temperate times. When we're driven inside by chilly rain & plummeting temps, I grade at the kitchen table, illuminated by the ceiling lite, which in this snap is reflected on both the left & the right. If you look real closely, you can see a double-reflection of the table, too, on both the left & the right of the shot. Oh, I could go on, but I won't!

BTW...that awesome apple-green stained glass hanging in the window was a wedding gift, from the Maid of Honor. A throwback, you might say?

TGIF, y'all!

The Power of Pie

Today, my Writer's Workshop contribution is inspired by Prompt #4: "I picked up the phone and I could not believe what I was hearing..."

My Nana, a sturdy, giving woman who originally hailed from Demopolis, Alabama, sincerely believed in the restorative qualities of a home-cooked meal. Nana cooked Southern. That always meant lard, which is probably one of the reasons my Daddy's Mama died at the relatively youngish age of 78. Hardening of the arteries, the doctor said. Lard will do that to a body.

But Nana also baked Southern, too, and her specialty was pies. If anyone she knew was in a world of hurt, she'd "whip up a pie." In my childhood estimation of the world & its wonders, a pie always equalled getting better.

I've been carrying on my Nana's legacy the last couple of months. When we found out that our friend Carmen faced a longterm battle with breast cancer, I knew just what to do. I baked her a pie, of course

That first one, back in September, was of the blueberry variety, a recipe acquired from my SIL. Fresh blueberries, sugar, cinammon & a secret ingredient, all shoveled into a Pillsbury crust, baked & delivered to Carmen's kitchen counter.

The next was a yummy concoction that originated with the Silver Palate chicas. Apple in origin, this pie was a veritable, delicious mess, as its contents burbled & bubbled and overflowed my extra-deep pie plate. I haven't been able to get all of the caramelized apples scraped off the bottom of my oven yet, but I know that particular pie was a hit with Carmen y familia. How do I know this? Got the pie plate back the next day.

Carmen had successful surgery, with a decent prognosis, and was still recovering when she learned that something might be amiss with her lymph nodes. The surgeon suggested going back in, just in case. I suggested a banana cream pie, & delivered said creation to her doorstep two days after she again returned from the hospital.

Carmencita (her Madre hails from Peru; even though Carmen's a grown woman, she's known by the Spanish diminutive of her name) called a couple of nites ago. She got the word on her pathology. There was a catch in her voice when she told me the news.

Tests on the lymph nodes came back negative. Benign. Nuthin'. Nada. Nil. I'm thinkin' a Pumpkin Pie might be in order soon, as a way of celebration. Considering the holidays are on the horizon & all.

I've always been a "glass half-full" kinda gal. I also believe in prayer & the power of positive thinking.

And pie.

SFO Jungle Kitty

Vaya Con El Diablo, John Allen Muhammad

We lived in fear for 3 weeks. We huddled out of sight at gas stations. High school athletic teams played their games hours away, with no fans to cheer them on. We were told to run in a zig-zag pattern between the car & our destinations to make it more difficult for the sniper to get a bead on us.

John Allen Muhammad & his teenaged accomplice, Lee Boyd Malvo, killed 10 people in the DC area in October 2002. Muhammed, on death row since his conviction in one of the murders, is set to die today by lethal injection.

My kids were 15 and 12 at the time. I came this close to sending them out of state, to live with relatives & to go to school where they didn't have the chance of getting picked off while standing at a neighborhood bus stop.

The DC area is not immune to violence. The first couple of deaths back in 2002, while mysterious, didn't register much of a reaction. Then we learned we harbored a home-grown terrorist, right in our backyard.

First, someone firing out of the woods in suburban Maryland cut down a bus driver. Then, an older DC resident was gunned down. And then gas station murders started to occur & the sniper-he always used just one bullet from an automatic rifle to do his dirty work-started leaving creepy, taunting notes behind.

Ella Numera Una played high school field hockey. The team, obviously, couldn't practice outside. So all the fall sports-field hockey, football, cross country, volleyball-tried to share limited gym space. The trackies made loops in the school's corridors. Indoor practices went until 10, sometimes 11 o'clock at nite.

Ella Numera Dos, a 7th-grader at the time, was just getting used to the freedom of catching the school bus up at the corner. After the local cops, however, established a pattern for the attacks & warned the general populace that a sniper was on the loose, Mommy & Daddy curtailed the child's freedom. We took her to school every morning, pulling up close to the front doors so she could dash in. We picked her up each afternoon, repeating the process in reverse. We couldn't be too careful. One of the victims was a local middle-schooler, shot as he left school. Fortunately, he survived.

Our Humble High School's Homecoming game that year was held 2-and-a-half hours away in Harrisonburg, VA. The only fans in attendance? Parents, who weren't notified of the game's location until hours before kickoff.

Other outdoor sports teams started competing in places like Richmond, about an hour from here. That was, of course, until the sniper went further afield & shot a man in front of a Ponderosa Steakhouse off the Interstate, near the capital city. The school district then moved games to an area Army post, the kids watched closely by soldiers who patrolled the perimeter of each playing field.

Then the DC Sniper shot & killed Linda Franklin at our local Home Depot. She was my age. She worked downtown in a government office. She'd gone to the store with her husband to pick up a rug for the house. She died in the parking garage. No one saw the sniper, the gun, the escape. Everyone saw the flash & Mrs. Franklin, lying on the cold concrete floor.

To say I was afraid after Linda Franklin died is to say that fear consumed my life. I started pumping my gas at the station that had draped its service bay area with a giant tarp, to make customers look less like sitting ducks. I crouched in the back of my SUV while the tank filled, hoping the tinted windows would shade me from the unknown assasin.

My terror came to an end one weekday morning, after dropping Ella Dos off at school. I had been having an internal debate over getting gas. I'd pretty much decided that the smidge left in my tank was going to have to get me to work. I willed it to do so.

The radio crackled with relief a couple of minutes later. The sniper-who turned out to be this man, Muhammad, had been picked up, along with a kid who'd been helping him wreak his terror. I immediately pulled into a local Exxon. I have to say that was the happiest I'd ever been while performing a normally perfunctory errand.

I go back & forth on capital punishment. I don't know if the death penalty is right, if it's moral, if it's the solution to the demons that haunt our souls. But I do know that John Allen Muhammad can't hurt me, or my loved ones, any more.

Here's Pie in Your Eye!

Someone said on the NFL pre-game show yesterday that Green Bay's Aaron Rodgers is the top-rated passer in the league right now. Well, if yesterday's performance is any indication, his 3 interceptions must be part of that ranking. And 6 sacks in one game~for a grand total of 37 this season, also a league-leading number~must count for something, too.

Mrs. Scribe & Mr. Fairway were so depressed over their beloved Packers falling to the heretofore winless Tampa Bay scrubs that I just had to bake. A Banana Cream Pie. Specifically, the recipe from my long-time, old-school standby, The Joy of Cooking.

When I was but a small Scribe, Mi Madre depended on Joy's Irma Rombauer to set a pretty delicious table. Every few years or so, Mom's copy of the cookbook would wear out. So Daddy would step in, always inscribing something cute on the title page. "You're a Good Cook, Mom!" became his standard; it adorned all 5 copies he bought Mom during their 52-year marriage.

When Mr. Fairway & I tied the knot, Daddy got in on the act again, presenting us with our very own copy of The Joy of Cooking for newlywed Christmas. The inscription? "You're a Good Cook! Love, Muv and Atticus." Daddy always made sure to squeeze literary allusions into his own works.

This pie (or P. I. E., as Daddy would say) provides just enough cream, meringue, sugar and butter to keep your arteries flowing, while at the same time duping you into believing that a heart attack could be imminent. Make sure to bake the crust first, or you'll have raw dough underneath all that creamy goodness! And I use a Pillsbury Crust, natch.

Banana Cream Pie, courtesy of The Joy of Cooking

Step 1: Prepare a pie crust, then bake it.

Step 2: Prepare the cream...yum!

2/3-cup sugar

1/4-cup cornstarch

1/4-teaspoon salt

2.5 cups of milk (I used 1%; you may use any kind)

5 egg yolks (reserve the whites for the meringue)

Combine sugar, cornstarch & salt in a medium saucepan. Stiring constantly over medium-low heat, gradually add the milk. When all of this starts to thicken, add the egg yolks & stir until the mixture comes to a bare simmer. Remove from the heat, scrape the corners of the saucepan, and whisk until smooth. Return to the heat and, whisking constantly, bring to a simmer and cook for 1 minute. Remove from heat again and add

2-3 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into small pieces

1 tablespoon vanilla

Step 3: Combine the bananas with the cream for the pie filling.

4 ripe bananas, sliced

Spoon one-third of the cream filling into the already-baked pie crust. Sprinkle one-half of the banana slices on top of this. Spoon one-third of the cream filling on top of the bananas and smooth. Add the rest of the banana slices. Top with the remainder of the cream filling and smooth.

Step 4: Prepare the meringe.

1/2-cup egg whites (from the eggs you separated for the filling)

1/4-teaspoon cream of tartar

1/2 cup sugar

Combine these ingredients. Beat on high speed until the peaks are stiff and glossy but not dry. Then, beat in

1/2-teaspoon vanilla

Immediately spread the meringue over the pie filling, anchoring it to the edge of the crust at all points. You need to cover up all that filling! Bake for 20 minutes at 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Enjoy!

Bend, and Snap!

When I saw this photo, it sorta put me in mind of "Legally Blonde." Yes, I realize Paulette was a manicurist, but still...

"The new UPS guy is like walkin' porn!" Best movie ever? Well, let's just say I've grown attached to it, since TBS screens this flick about 752 times every weekend!

Anyway, back to the reason we're here~Mrs. Scribe's Silly Sunday Sweepstakes!

You know what to do, correctamundo? Take a gander at this Superior Silly Snap. Conjure a caption for said snap. Tippy-type your caption, real quick-like, in the comments section of this post.

And that's all there is to it, Scribe Fans! Of course, you'll win nothing tangible for all your toil & trouble. Just the knowledge that you've given us all a good giggle. And what could be better than that?

Army Strong

Photo courtesy of The Killeen Daily Herald

We're all in the Army now.

I'm pretty sure I've mentioned this before: Our Humble High School's student population is about 75 percent military kids. As one of the closest schools to the Pentagon in our district, families from all of the Armed Services gravitate here.

So, when my journalistas went into Breaking News Mode yesterday morning, trying to localize the Fort Hood Massacre story, I jumped right in there with them.

A ton of my cherubs were either born on post at Fort Hood or have cycled thru there at least once in their young lives. Some have experienced repeated postings to this barren piece of real estate, northeast of Austin and in the general vicinity of Waco, Texas.

I'm told Fort Hood is the largest Army post in the world. I'm not sure if that's accurate, but at Our Humble High School, at least, we're all in the Army now. Our hearts are with y'all down there in Bell County. To the families of the 13 fallen, and those of you who survived...We salute you.

Friday Night Lights

A squeaker of a Homecoming game, I'd say...

Punt, Pass...Or Throw

Today I tackled Mama Kat's Prompt #2: Tell Me Your Most Humorous Wedding Experience.

I was young. I was foolish. I was plastered.

Well, not until midway thru the reception, anyway. But the highlight of that blowout par-TAY at my folks' East Dallas home wasn't the larapin, 3-tiered cake with buttercream icing. Not the cool Western hats Mr. Fairway purchased for his groomsmen at a store in the Fort Worth Stockyards. Nor the luscious Spanish Paella my Aunt whipped up for those who lingered longest.

The centerpiece of the celebration involved the bouquet...or lack thereof.

First off, I need to explain that the union of Mrs. Scribe & Mr. Fairway was planned to the Nth Degree. That's Scribe-speak for a whole heckuva lot of lists, bickering & endless, unnecessary worry.

And what happens when all that organization goes awry? When the best-laid plans slant slightly askew?

You punt. Pass. Or throw.

The church was lovely. Festooned with flowers, crammed with friends & family in a cacophonous array of goodwill & glad tidings. All we could have expected, and, to insert a little ol' cliche here (this is a wedding post, after all), more.

The "homey" reception Mom planned for her 1920's-era abode, however, featured a more impromptu vibe.

The guys Daddy hired to serve champagne didn't show. So Dear Old Dad enlisted my cousin, and, presto! Waiters, who didn't charge by the hour & even had their own tuxes.

The backyard, which Daddy had painstakingly nurtured all Spring (Dallas is not known for lush vegetation), was pretty much a backwater swamp after 2 solid weeks of uncharacteristic rain. So the overflow crowd had to congregate either inside, or on the front lawn.

Well, we made do.

My BIL, at some point, commandeered a bottle of champagne. My Lil' Sis, as I recall, did the same.

And after that, the memory of the best party I ever attended goes a little fuzzy, if you know what I mean...Let's just say the Bride couldn't find her bouquet. So I tried to throw my Maid of Honor, instead.

I do have photographic evidence. Drunk with Happiness? Try Drunk as a Skunk...

Lunch Time: Life's a Beach