annie blog

Top Ten Things I Will Always Miss About Mr. Jim

I’ve been thinking about our friend, Mr. Jim, who died a little over 3 months ago. Don’t know why that is. Maybe it’s all the leaf raking that I see going on right now in St. Louis. Mr. Jim loved to rake leaves. He was such a dear man.

So, I came up with this list of things that I’ll miss about him. Of course, this list isn’t exhaustive. There are many more things that I’ll always miss about him. There are many things that his death affirmed for me, in a way, and I’ll always be grateful for that, as well.

Here it is:

1. Seeing him standing on the sidelines of the Fellowship Hall with a coffee cup in his hand. That space will never be the same, for me.

2. His stories. I liked all of them. The one in which he was looking for the bus with a bowling ball bag in one hand and his blind man cane in his other hand was classic and hilarious. You have to love helpful, occasionally profane strangers who have hearts of gold. I wish that I could hear him tell me that story again.

3. The way he ate my food.

4. The way he put up with my crazy boys.

5. His generosity. What an understatement.

6. His sense of humor. The man could sum things up so very well and make you laugh in the process.

7. The way he told everyone about my driving. Mr. Jim seemed to think that I had some sort of kinship with Mario Andretti. When people I’d known for years suddenly became interested in the speedy nature of my driving I would know that Mr. Jim had told them all about it. This comes from the time when I drove Mr. Jim to church and he seriously didn’t believe that we were there yet because it should have been impossible. I know that he wanted to tell me that I drove like a bat out of hell but he didn’t.

8. How he could humorously rib you about something that had happened years earlier. He never let me live down forgetting to tell him that asparagus soup was on the menu at the Bread Co. Never.

9. Talking about a prayer warrior. He was one.

10. How he would fall out laughing when Jon started doing his mouth trumpet in the van. Every single time.

In a lot of ways, I think that you never get over the loss of a friend. Would you say that this is true?

Happy Thanksgiving, Y’all!!!
For once, I’m not cooking on Thanksgiving. Weird, but okay.

Gobble, gobble.

Happy Thanksgiving, Y’all!!!
For once, I’m not cooking on Thanksgiving. Weird, but okay.

Gobble, gobble.

Happy Thanksgiving, Y’all!!!
For once, I’m not cooking on Thanksgiving. Weird, but okay.

Gobble, gobble.

Why Late Night Baking and Rum Just Don’t Mix

Last week was conference week at school. Ah, conference week — don’t get me started. Well, I guess that I could sum it up for you….we had 2 “he’s doing just fine”, one “this child is universally loved and appreciated and, look, he’s actually learning something”, and one “I just don’t know….” after which I really wanted to either buy his teacher a beer or give her a hug — or both.

So, back to the purpose of this post which can be summed up as this: Baking late at night is not the smartest thing to do. Also, remember to buy vanilla — otherwise you might have to substitute other liquids with questionable results.

Why do I say the above? Because, last week, I remembered that I’d volunteered to bring an apple cake to my son’s school. The Parent Teacher Organization provides snacks for the teachers on conference nights and so I signed up to bring something. They needed it the next morning. Now, baking at night isn’t the best thing for me. I’m not the most exact person at any time of the day but at night, well, I’m less exact than usual. So, I tried to pull myself together and concentrate, because when I bake for other people, I try to step it up a notch.

For instance:
I don’t lick the spoon.
I try to remember all the food safety rules.
I measure and stuff.

I must say that I was doing a great job. The cake came out beautifully. So, on I went to make the caramel sauce. Now, the sauce calls for vanilla. But I had used rum instead of vanilla when I had made this cake for my church’s harvest party and people seemed to like it. I even won 2nd place — so I figured that it would be okay. The sauce was really coming together until I decided to put a dash of the rum in the sauce, and, since I was sort of distracted and not really bothering to get out the teaspoon my dash turned into a GLUG, GLUG, GLUG.

The resulting sauce smelled very rummy. Very, VERY rummy. It was late. I didn’t have the ingredients or the will to try again. So the rummy cake went to school.

Now I wonder if I be branded as the mother who tried to get the staff drunk on conference night? I hope not. My cake plate is still at school. Maybe I’ll wait a few weeks before claiming it.

I hereby pledge to refrain from late night baking — until next time.

Why Late Night Baking and Rum Just Don’t Mix

Last week was conference week at school. Ah, conference week — don’t get me started. Well, I guess that I could sum it up for you….we had 2 “he’s doing just fine”, one “this child is universally loved and appreciated and, look, he’s actually learning something”, and one “I just don’t know….” after which I really wanted to either buy his teacher a beer or give her a hug — or both.

So, back to the purpose of this post which can be summed up as this: Baking late at night is not the smartest thing to do. Also, remember to buy vanilla — otherwise you might have to substitute other liquids with questionable results.

Why do I say the above? Because, last week, I remembered that I’d volunteered to bring an apple cake to my son’s school. The Parent Teacher Organization provides snacks for the teachers on conference nights and so I signed up to bring something. They needed it the next morning. Now, baking at night isn’t the best thing for me. I’m not the most exact person at any time of the day but at night, well, I’m less exact than usual. So, I tried to pull myself together and concentrate, because when I bake for other people, I try to step it up a notch.

For instance:
I don’t lick the spoon.
I try to remember all the food safety rules.
I measure and stuff.

I must say that I was doing a great job. The cake came out beautifully. So, on I went to make the caramel sauce. Now, the sauce calls for vanilla. But I had used rum instead of vanilla when I had made this cake for my church’s harvest party and people seemed to like it. I even won 2nd place — so I figured that it would be okay. The sauce was really coming together until I decided to put a dash of the rum in the sauce, and, since I was sort of distracted and not really bothering to get out the teaspoon my dash turned into a GLUG, GLUG, GLUG.

The resulting sauce smelled very rummy. Very, VERY rummy. It was late. I didn’t have the ingredients or the will to try again. So the rummy cake went to school.

Now I wonder if I be branded as the mother who tried to get the staff drunk on conference night? I hope not. My cake plate is still at school. Maybe I’ll wait a few weeks before claiming it.

I hereby pledge to refrain from late night baking — until next time.

Why Late Night Baking and Rum Just Don’t Mix

Last week was conference week at school. Ah, conference week — don’t get me started. Well, I guess that I could sum it up for you….we had 2 “he’s doing just fine”, one “this child is universally loved and appreciated and, look, he’s actually learning something”, and one “I just don’t know….” after which I really wanted to either buy his teacher a beer or give her a hug — or both.

So, back to the purpose of this post which can be summed up as this: Baking late at night is not the smartest thing to do. Also, remember to buy vanilla — otherwise you might have to substitute other liquids with questionable results.

Why do I say the above? Because, last week, I remembered that I’d volunteered to bring an apple cake to my son’s school. The Parent Teacher Organization provides snacks for the teachers on conference nights and so I signed up to bring something. They needed it the next morning. Now, baking at night isn’t the best thing for me. I’m not the most exact person at any time of the day but at night, well, I’m less exact than usual. So, I tried to pull myself together and concentrate, because when I bake for other people, I try to step it up a notch.

For instance:
I don’t lick the spoon.
I try to remember all the food safety rules.
I measure and stuff.

I must say that I was doing a great job. The cake came out beautifully. So, on I went to make the caramel sauce. Now, the sauce calls for vanilla. But I had used rum instead of vanilla when I had made this cake for my church’s harvest party and people seemed to like it. I even won 2nd place — so I figured that it would be okay. The sauce was really coming together until I decided to put a dash of the rum in the sauce, and, since I was sort of distracted and not really bothering to get out the teaspoon my dash turned into a GLUG, GLUG, GLUG.

The resulting sauce smelled very rummy. Very, VERY rummy. It was late. I didn’t have the ingredients or the will to try again. So the rummy cake went to school.

Now I wonder if I be branded as the mother who tried to get the staff drunk on conference night? I hope not. My cake plate is still at school. Maybe I’ll wait a few weeks before claiming it.

I hereby pledge to refrain from late night baking — until next time.

The Problem With Having a Southern Accent
when your spouse doesn’t have one is that, when your 4 year old exclaims, “What the Hey-ul?”, no one will be in doubt about where he heard it.

The list of my shortcomings is long I tell you. Long.

The Problem With Having a Southern Accent
when your spouse doesn’t have one is that, when your 4 year old exclaims, “What the Hey-ul?”, no one will be in doubt about where he heard it.

The list of my shortcomings is long I tell you. Long.

The Problem With Having a Southern Accent
when your spouse doesn’t have one is that, when your 4 year old exclaims, “What the Hey-ul?”, no one will be in doubt about where he heard it.

The list of my shortcomings is long I tell you. Long.