Forrest Gump’s mama always said, “Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you’re going to get.”
I’ve decided that life is like a yo-yo. It’s up and down, up and down. And sometimes it stays there at the bottom, and you have to shake it, roll it, and then finally wind it back up yourself.
So, when life is like a yo-yo, you have my permission to make some of these cookies. My mama made these when my brothers and sisters and I were growing up, and we love them still.
Yo-Yo’s
½ cup shortening
1 cup brown sugar
½ cup margarine or butter
2 eggs
1/3 cup honey
1 tsp. Vanilla
3 ¼ cup flour
2 tsp. Baking soda
Your favorite jam for the middle
Mix shortening, butter, sugar and eggs. Stir in honey and vanilla. Add flour and soda. Chill dough for 1 hour. Roll small pieces of dough into balls and bake at 350 degrees for 10 minutes or until lightly browned. Put two together with a dab of strawberry or raspberry jam so they look like a Yo-Yo.
Monday, June 2, 2008
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Heaven...
We all plopped around our bed tonight for family prayer. After the other kids had gone up to bed, Mario stayed in our bed and said, “I don’t know where Heavenly Father lives.”
“Where do you think he lives?” I asked him.
“I think he lives at the ocean.”
“Heavenly father lives in Heaven, but we can’t see Him there,” I said.
“I think he lives at the beach in a boat that transforms, kind of like Bumblebee.”
“What’s Bumblebee?” Andy asked.
“You know, Bumblebee, the Chevrolet.”
“That would be really cool.” I told him.
The beach is the most wonderful place in the world to Mario. He wants to go there - and asks to go there – all the time. He’s four, and in his frame of reference Heaven equals the beach.
“Where do you think he lives?” I asked him.
“I think he lives at the ocean.”
“Heavenly father lives in Heaven, but we can’t see Him there,” I said.
“I think he lives at the beach in a boat that transforms, kind of like Bumblebee.”
“What’s Bumblebee?” Andy asked.
“You know, Bumblebee, the Chevrolet.”
“That would be really cool.” I told him.
The beach is the most wonderful place in the world to Mario. He wants to go there - and asks to go there – all the time. He’s four, and in his frame of reference Heaven equals the beach.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Chicken Farming is an Ugly Business.
That phrase was uttered by Andy this morning, right after he took a look at me in my power-washing get-up: glasses (since my eyes were too sensitive for contacts after yesterday’s power-washing experience), jeans tucked into knee-high rubber boots, an old T-shirt belonging to Andy, purple bandanna covering my pony tailed head (purple, to match my purple plastic apron) and a lovely mask, similar to this one, to block all of the debris from flying into my eyes again. I was pretty…ugly.
Then, to add insult to injury, Mom and Mellisa were cracking up when I walked up to the shop. Good thing they didn't have a camera with them, since they threatened to take a picture!
Why do men look ruggedly handsome when they're farming - dirt, manure, and whatever else might be mucking them up?
Monday, May 26, 2008
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
