Come to my kitchen

by on Jun 12, 2013 (1) Comments

Dave and I left the sanctuary of our resort to wander down the main road in Urubamba in search of a well-reviewed restaurant called 3 Keros.  David’s internet research indicated that it was “just across the street” from our hotel.  Walking out the front gate we looked across the street only to find a refueling station of some kind.  The sign said it was a mini-mart but it was instantly obvious that an Urubamba mini-mart and a Murfreesboro mini-mart are two completely different animals.  We turned left, on the recommendation of the lady at the front desk at the hotel and wandered several blocks thinking, “There is no way there is a fantastic restaurant in this area.”  Just as we were starting to get somewhat worried we walked around a bend in the road and there it was.  A cute little Peruvian restaurant situated on the second floor of a building just slightly less dilapidated than the ones we had passed on our way.3 Keros

At the top of a wooden staircase we found a small room filled with about 8 tables with the sounds of Motown playing in the background.  We were met at the door by a sweet young girl who gestured for us to sit anywhere.  Seconds later a man in a chef coat appeared at our table.  He was Ricardo, the owner of the 3 Keros.  He pointed out a dish on the menu that he said chef’s around the world came to his restaurant to eat.  His English was very good, as well it should be since he attended college at University of Michigan.  He personally brought us a plate of spiced Andean root and told us the local beer of choice was Cusquena.  We ordered the beer and his suggested entrée called Lomo Saltado which consisted of beef tenderloin bites sautéed with onions and Peruvian spices.

To our complete delight he offered for us to come into the kitchen while he made his signature dish for us.  It was like watching an artist at work.  He put the beef in a pan and the set it on fire with Pisco, the local alcohol of choice.  Then he transferred the beef to a bowl to rest and dropped sliced onion which had been marinated in balsamic vinegar into the hot pan.  We were immediately treated to a flambé experience and told that the onions would jump like popcorn when they were ready.  Sure enough after just a few seconds the onions began hopping around in the pan.  He transferred the beef back into the hot pan and finished with some beef stock to make a sauce.Chef Ricardo

Every time David and I come back from a trip, we invite the family over to see our pictures and hear our travel stories.   I do my best to recreate some of the food we found most delicious on or trip for dinner.  This meal was absolutely amazing so it is definitely on my list of meals to try and recreate.  Thanks to Ricardo’s sharing his kitchen and techniques with us, I think this is a dish I may actually have a shot at getting right.

Mommy the Chicken

by on Jun 07, 2013 (Comments Off on Mommy the Chicken) Comments

Our backyard pool is open and the kids have been in it almost every day for the last month. Mommy, however, has only braved the frigid water once and that was as a response to a challenge from my children to prove that I wasn’t a coward. I fulfilled the basics of the promise by jumping totally into the water, swimming for two minutes and then bolting out to the comfort of a dry towel warmed by the heat of the sun.

So as I sit here on the deck watching my children splash in the pool with their lips turning blue, I try to recall back to my own childhood at the beach when I would insist on being in the water despite blue lips, goose bumps and periodic shivering. I love that my kids want to pack in as much summer fun as possible into their time off from school. I’ve gotten used to the high-pitched squeals as they face the chilly water for the first time each day and how they have to summon up their courage to head back into the pool after sitting in the warm sun on the deck to eat their lunches. I love looking at life through the eyes of my children.

I also love the fact that as I sit on the deck watching my children I am also searching the internet for any specials on pool solar covers. Being an adult has its benefits – I have a credit card. I don’t look good with blue lips.

Are You Serious?

by on Jun 02, 2013 (Comments Off on Are You Serious?) Comments

David and I stood and watched with dismay as the last of the passengers on our flight snatched the last bag off the conveyor belt at the airport in Lima.  One more empty turn around the carousel and it was official our little red bag had taken a vacation of its own.

Earlier in the day, David and I had sat in an airport coffee shop in Miami across from the LAN check in desk waiting for it to open so we could check our bag and head off to the terminal for our flight to Lima.  Since we were several hours early for our flight, we weren’t distressed when the check in counter didn’t open for an hour or so.  We sat idly, drinking coffee, munching on a blueberry muffin and checking our emails on our travel computers.

Finally we realized the counter would open in a few minutes so we made our way to the check-in line.  There were a dozen or so early birds that had lined up before us but even this was no worry because our flight didn’t depart for hours so we had plenty of time to spare.  Unfortunately, there was only one person working the check-in so a line of a dozen people or so was moving at a snail’s pace.  Finally after almost an hour of patiently standing in line it was our turn.  We went up to the check-in girl, handed her our sheet of paper indicating the LAN flight we were booked on.  She looked at the paper, clicked a few keys on her computer then politely informed us that the flight we were on was an LAN flight but it was being operated by American Airlines and we would have to make the trek back across the airport to the terminal that we had arrived at several hours ago to check in there.

Needless to say, I was less than pleased with my absolutely wonderful yet sometimes absentminded husband who had assured me repeatedly that he looked at the confirmation and that LAN was indeed the correct place to check in.  Since the walk from where we were to where we had been and now needed to return to was basically miles in airport footage, I had lots of time to get over myself before we arrived at the correct check-in area and once again join the line of passengers that had gotten there before us.

The next day when we returned from our tour of Lima we were elated to see our wayward little red bag sitting in our hotel room.  As we walked up to it we realized that it had a red LAN flight sticker on it not an American Airlines sticker.  If the airlines themselves were confused on who was operating the flight, then there was no way an attorney from Murfreesboro could be held accountable for misinterpreting the flight data.  David was jubilantly vindicated!

 

Backyard Battle

by on May 27, 2013 (Comments Off on Backyard Battle) Comments

Why has my backyard become so popular lately? Oh, I’m not talking about friends and neighbors, but rather, unwanted wildlife.  Every morning, before letting the dog out, I have to go on patrol around the backyard and chase away the rabbits so Griffin doesn’t wind up with an unexpected breakfast treat. We have a fence around our backyard and I thought I made it quite clear to the rabbits that they should stay on their side and I would keep Griffin (our sheltie) on his side. Griffin is holding up his end of the bargain but the rabbits have violated the agreement. These rabbits must be rather stupid because the grass is clearly not greener on Griffin’s side of the fence. With a dog and two kids who play in the yard daily, the grass inside the fence struggles to survive, while the grass outside of the fence is very green. Perhaps the rabbits are thrill seekers engaged in a game of chicken.bunny

Then we have the frogs. Watering my plants on the deck used to be a very calming experience. I loved being out there in the early morning before anyone woke up. I would lovingly tend to my flowers while enjoying the fresh air of a new day. Now, watering my plants has become a heart-stopping event as I never know how many frogs are going to jump out at me at any given moment.

And we mustn’t forget the family of skunks that have taken up residence at my neighbor’s house. While the skunks are technically not living on my property, they’re visiting on a regular basis and we’re still dealing with the olfactory memory of Griffin’s first encounter with a surprised skunk.

So as I sit on my deck to write this blog, I keep a keen eye out for uninvited wildlife and frequently swat at the mosquito air force trying to suck the last drop of my blood. The red wasps are sunning themselves on the deck railing and I’m sure they’re planning some form of sneak attack. I’m allergic to bees and I wonder whether the rabbits have hired the wasps as hit men to do me in. A bumble bee buzzes circles over my head – he was probably hired as surveillance. I pull the can of Raid a little closer to me and give the bumble bee a defiant look. The backyard battle has begun.

The Cat’s out of the Bag!

by on May 20, 2013 (Comments Off on The Cat’s out of the Bag!) Comments

For the last 15 years very few people have known exactly how old I am.  Oh, I know what you’re thinking; you think I’m one of those vain women who quit counting their birthdays at 29 or 35 or whatever age makes them feel like they’re still young, hip and happening.  Well, not exactly.  I am not young, I am not hip and the last thing I am is happening.  I am fully aware that I am a somewhat cute, somewhat intelligent, extremely awkward middle-aged woman.   Frankly, I tell everyone that asks my age that I am between 3 and 5 years older than I actually am.  Why, pray tell, would I do such a thing?  Because I may look like doggie dung for my actual age but I look darn good for what I’m telling you I am.birthday cake

For some reason, though, this year has been a very special year.  Every year around my birthday I tend to take stock of my life.  I weigh where I am compared to where I was hoping to be at this point in life.  If I fall short, I make a plan to rectify the situation before the next annual review comes up.  This year, my life stacked up better than I could ever have imagined.  I have three amazing, wonderful children who are all grown up, out of college, two of which will be married this year to significant others I happen to like very much.  I have an accounting practice that I have been nurturing for over 20 years that is stable, thriving and very rewarding.  After 24 years of renovations, my 1847 antebellum house is finally almost completely finished.  In the fall, Pam and I will be launching the second book in our series about raising our children.   Who would have ever thought I would be an author of one book, let alone two.  I have conquered my back issues and I am back to bowling full time, carrying my highest average ever.  But most of all, I have David.  David is not just my husband; he is my best friend, my soul mate and my most trusted advisor.

So for this year only, I have decided to actually tell everyone how old actually I am.  On May 17th, I will be in Peru with my wonderful husband of 28 years celebrating my 50th birthday!

The Two Loons Hit the Virtual Road

by on May 17, 2013 (1) Comments

Hey loon watchers! We’ve been on a blog tour and we love it. For once, we don’t have worry about what to pack or getting to the airport on time. If you’d like to see where we’ve been and what we’ve been up to, check out some of our stops. Pam Johnson-Bennett and Kae Allen

“Will the Real June Cleaver Please Stand up” is a guest blog we did recently for ebook addict. So dig out your strand of pearls, sit back and enjoy.

“If it’s Gross and Disgusting, We’ve Touched it!” is a guest blog we did for Sarahbelle’s blog.

Be sure and check out the latest book review of Cookies for Dinner at Notes From the Rumbly Cottage.

Samantha March actually got us to answer questions about each other and the process of co-writing a book together. Check out the interview.

Cookies for Dinner

Another rave review from Karma for Life Chick.

We’re also over at Brooke Blogs if you want to check us out.

And if that’s not enough for you, be sure and see the rest of our upcoming stops at CLP Blog Tours.

Whew! We’ve been busy. In addition, Kae is off on another worldly adventure so stay tuned for some fun blogs from her. As for me? Well, I’m still trying to get the skunk smell off my dog and out of my house.

If you’ve been hesitating about purchasing your copy of Cookies for Dinner, there’s no time like the present. Come on, you know you’re curious about our most embarrassing mommy moments! Drive-Thru

Our special visitor

by on May 10, 2013 (Comments Off on Our special visitor) Comments

It was early evening and I was standing in my bedroom talking to a friend on the phone while watching my dog run around in the back yard. At the very moment when I detected an all-too-familiar and yet very unwelcomed odor, my kids came bolting in the room in a panic.

“There’s a skunk in the house!” They both shrieked in unison.

“What?” I asked, completely horrified, but knew the odor that was now starting to fill the room was proof they might be correct.

“There’s a skunk in the house!” They repeated, again in unison.

“Did you see it?” I asked (ok, maybe it was more of a scream). My mind was racing at the thought of a skunk actually being in my house. If that was the case, I realized I would simply have to surrender my home to the skunk. After all, how would one recover from a skunk spraying inside the home? The easiest thing to do would be to simply give up, leave all belongings and go. I would just grab the kids, the dog, the cat and move across town. My husband would have to figure out how to deal with the house. Isn’t that the job of a husband? Wasn’t he in charge of changing the oil in the car, fixing the roof and selling a skunked house?

In my 15 years of living in this house I have endured countless mice scurrying around in my kitchen, one snake lounging in my utensil drawer, a squirrel raising her babies in my attic, at least a dozen wasp nests on my porch, one wasp nest in my chimney and a black widow spider hanging from a light fixture in the dining room. Surely I have housed enough wildlife. I shouldn’t have to adopt Pepe le Pew as well… but I digress. Back to my panicky children…

My children responded that they hadn’t actually seen the skunk but it must be inside because the whole house smells bad. That’s when my thoughts shifted from indoors to outdoors. I ran to the door and saw my dog rolling around in the yard. Yup, it was official… Griffin had been skunked. I ran outdoors to assess the damage.Griffin

Learn from my mistakes. When your dog has been skunked, don’t pick him up and carry him into the house. What ends up happening is that you wind up smelling as bad as the dog. In my defense though, I do believe severe skunk smell invading one’s nostrils must affect brain function. I wasn’t thinking clearly.

Three baths (one done at the veterinary clinic), six bottles of Febreze, 4 cans of Lysol and 6 odor removing candles later, the skunk odor is more of a trace than an all-out olfactory assault. I will say though that there was one silver lining through all this – I didn’t have to stand in line very long at the store to purchase my de-skunking products. People were more than happy to let me go on ahead.

Now, remind me again what purpose skunks serve in nature? Surely they have an important function, although I’m still trying to figure out why God made mosquitoes.

Houston, we have a weeper

by on Apr 25, 2013 (1) Comments

On April 21st, I watched quietly while small tears leaked from my eyes, as my husband gave our youngest daughter Jess away to Chambliss, not with a kiss on the cheek but with an exploding tater hand bump complete with sound effects by Jess.

I stood by the dance floor and watched as David and Jess did the father/daughter dance.  The DJ began to play Bruce Springsteen’s, “When You Need Me” and small tears leaked from my eyes as I realized David wasn’t just dancing with his daughter, he was making her a promise in the only way he could.  If she ever needs him, he would be there.  Then the music broke and everyone began to whisper that oh no something had gone wrong at this amazing moment.  Suddenly the sound of an accordion filled the air and David and Jess broke into the Chicken Dance and everyone in the room cracked up laughing.  Once again, that is the relationship between these two little birds.  The moment was perfect.  The chicken dance was followed up by Bob Marley’s rendition of “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” where everyone was invited to join the dance.  It was a perfect moment in father/daughter land.Chicken Dance

Weeping seemed to come freely to me this day.  Since I am generally not a crier, my propensity for weeping on this wonderful occasion was recognized by my entire family.  My sweet daughter, Christi, actually spit on a napkin to help wipe away a smudge of mascara that my trail of tears had created. Since we were standing at the bar at the time, this act of reverse maternal instinct was witnessed by many of our “new” family members and once again the Allens’ antics were rewarded with a few giggles from the crowd.   When David finally took me in his arms and said, “You never cry, why all the tears,” I told him:

In my mind, our children’s lives have been a series of steps.  First they took their first actual steps and learned to walk.  They went to pre-school, then to kindergarten, then off to Jr. High and High school and finally off to College.  They learned to run, to ride a bike and finally to drive a car.  They got a crush, then puppy love, then their first real love and today a real live grown-up husband.  For the kids, every one of these steps in their lives have been part of their journey to adulthood but for me, every step has been just one more step away from me, their Mom.  My days of being able to coddle and protect Jess from all the hurts of this big mean world ended when David gave her away to Chambliss.  Being the control freak I am, it is very difficult for me to let her go and trust that Chambliss will love her and care for her as diligently as I have for the past 24 years.Jess and Chambliss Dance

The final dance of the night was the bubble dance.  Jess and Chambliss claimed the spot of honor in the center of the dance floor while all the wedding well-wishers blew copious amounts of bubbles into the night sky.  Once again the tears slowly leaked down my face for the loss of the child that I have had the honor of raising and for the joy of witnessing the blossoming of the young woman she has become.  Chambliss put his strong arms around Jess and spun her in a circle, her head buried in his chest and her feet lifted from the ground fully trusting that he would not drop her.  In that beautiful moment, I realized that Chambliss was Jess’ “David” and tears of happiness flowed down my cheeks for the wonderful life I’m now sure is awaiting my sweet little girl.

Dining With Elephants

by on Apr 17, 2013 (1) Comments

Jack is turning 9 in a few days and when asked where he wants to go for his special birthday dinner, he enthusiastically replied “Rainforest Café.” For my son, this is a major event in his young life because he’s using this as a way of showing us and himself that he is a big boy who is facing his fears. You see, we’ve never eaten at the Rainforest Café. We’ve gone into the restaurant and sat at the table and even held menus in our hands but we’ve never actually eaten there. The first time we attempted to go there Jack completely panicked and we all had to flee from the restaurant.

Our second dining attempt at the Rainforest Café happened last year when Jack decided he was ready to take on his fear. He was wrong. We didn’t even make it into the restaurant before he attached himself to me like Velcro and almost knocked me to the ground in the middle of the mall.Big Jack

So here we are again at this crossroads for Jack. We’ve told him there’s no reason he has to go to the Rainforest Café and that there are plenty of other wonderful restaurants from which to choose. Jack, however, has decided that since this is also the year he will no longer need to use his booster seat in the car, he should start checking off his list of little boy fears and face them head-on.

Luckily, there are plenty of other restaurants in that mall should he find himself not yet ready to dine next to a stampede of mechanical elephants.

Whirlwind Jackie

by on Apr 11, 2013 (Comments Off on Whirlwind Jackie) Comments

It’s hard to believe but less than a year has passed since we sold David’s parents’ house in Illinois. In just 4 days’ time we attempted to get my in-laws’ three story house of 40 years picked through, sorted into what goes to their condo in Florida, what goes to their bedroom in Tennessee, what goes to which family member, what goes into the estate sale, and last but not least, what hits the curb to be either recycled or picked up by the garbage truck.

When I was mentally preparing myself for this endeavor I prepared a flowchart in my mind, dissecting the house into neat, organized divisions of rooms and contents. In my mind, I created a packing center where we could set up wrapping paper and boxes.  Here all items that were to be transported to outlying destinations could be designated, packed and placed safely in boxes, marked appropriately and placed in the appropriate room until the movers arrived on the last day.  In my mind, each room would be systematically gone through, decisions made, furniture tagged for destination, fragile items wrapped, recycling recycled and garbage tossed into a big black bag.  Then and only then everyone would head off to the next room to begin the procedure again.  Oh, silly me….Tornado

Mom hit the house with the force of an F-5 tornado.  She had been plotting in her mind a plan of attack for this little adventure as well.  She darted like a hummingbird to and fro, up and down the stairs picking through closets, cabinets and in tucked away 40-year-old long ago forgotten hidey holes for treasures of her life’s adventures.  Each treasure she pulled out had a wonderful story attached of places she lived as a girl in Scotland or places that she had visited as an adult like China.  Mom was up every morning at 6am and ran like the Eveready bunny all day long.  She left in her wake, cabinet doors hanging open, their contents strewn out on the ground in a trail behind her.

Standing in the middle of a room piled high with boxes and littered with crinkled newspaper, was a something just shy of 5-foot- tall 80-year-old whirling dervish of a woman.   This is my mother-in-law, whirlwind Jackie.