Leaving the Group

Leaving the group.

Remember when you were a teenager? I do. I remember my parents telling me that if I attended a gathering where things started to get “out of hand” or “go awry” or if I were uncomfortable, to leave. Get myself out of the situation. At different stages of life, that could mean different things. As a teenager, maybe people were getting too rowdy. Or maybe I had the choice of whether or not to get into a car with someone I didn’t really trust. In college, maybe there were drugs present that I didn’t need to around. Maybe there was a mob mentality about something, and people were about to do something they wouldn’t have done if they were alone.

Recently, I found myself in a virtual group that started to scare me. By “virtual,” I mean it was the Facebook page for a group I joined long ago. According to the Facebook page of this group I remember as always quite civilized and respectful, the goal of the page is stated to be “to build a network of [members]…to share resources and opportunities.” It states clearly in the group rules that there is to be no hate speech or bullying. “Communicate with courtesy and respect,” it says.

Imagine my surprise when communication on this same page recently turned quite ugly and disrespectful. People are calling each other names. People are addressing members in ways I wouldn’t address anyone. People are using profanity left and right as a means of conveying their viewpoints, instead of using respectful speech.

Don’t get me wrong. Generally speaking, I don’t care about profanity, but I don’t like when it is hurled at someone…especially in a setting where we should be treating each other with respect. Imagine hurling obscenities at your coworkers in a professional setting. Or imagine your children hurling them at their teachers in the classroom setting. I don’t know about you, but the school wouldn’t even have to punish my child; she would be in big enough trouble at home.

I’ve seen kids on sports fields and sports courts in recent years sassing referees and gesturing after what they believe is a bad call, and every time, I think, “Holy smokes. My daddy would have walked out there and snatched me off that field.” I’ve been watching when my daughter was playing high school sports, and when a girl behaves poorly or with poor sportsmanship on the field, I’ve thought, “My daughter’s coach surely knows that I would take her home right now if she acted that way on the field.”

That brings me back to my group. Apparently, a lot of people don’t feel the same way. They think respecting others is no longer important. They think it’s OK to get out there and say whatever you want and say it however you want to whomever you want, without regard for others. They think it’s OK to use profanity in every sentence when they are trying to make a point. In this particular group, someone actually typed out these words to another member recently: Sit the hell down. 

And that’s when I knew I needed to leave the group. That was that moment my parents had warned me about. When things start to go awry or you are uncomfortable, leave. So I left the Facebook page of a group I’ve been a member of most of my life. It broke my heart, because I really wanted to try to make a difference. I’m really good at listening to other people’s viewpoints. I know everyone doesn’t feel the same way about everything…and I think that’s OK. That’s what makes the world go around. But I will not tolerate disrespectful behavior. I do not want to be a part of a group that communicates that way.

If it had been a one off situation, I could have gotten past it. But it wasn’t. People were accusing each other of horrible things. Worst of all, no one was hearing anyone else. And as soon as I saw “sit the hell down,” I was done. I left the Facebook page of a group I’ve loved for years…a group I have dedicated time and financial resources to…a group that, for me, was always a soft place to land, a place I made lifelong friends. I had to leave the Facebook page. I hope the behavior of those people is not indicative of the members of the group as a whole. Is civility dead?!?!

I keep getting messages from friends who are still in the group. I’ve received six or eight from people who have left it too, but I’m getting messages showing me screenshots of some of the posts, and I’m brokenhearted. I’m disappointed. I don’t want to be a part of a group that behaves that way.

So I left the Facebook group. I had to. My parents would be proud that I chose not to participate in the insanity, because that’s what it looked like to me. It looked like a bunch of spoiled, entitled, participation-trophy kids who think they’re the smartest things on the planet, and they’re probably 25 years old. They think their education makes them knowledgeable about life, I guess. At 53, I know that’s not true. They know very little, but they’re not even smart enough to realize that yet. When they’re 53, hopefully, they will look back and realize just how incredibly rude they were.

I’m out.

 

 

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It’s Official…I’m Not Tech Savvy

It’s official. I’m not tech savvy.

I went to college at a time when it was OK to not be tech savvy. I knew how to type. I knew how to use a Mac for journalism, since that was my major. I didn’t take a programming class, because I took Spanish…I loved learning a new language. I didn’t learn how to make a spreadsheet or how to use Microsoft Word. I don’t even know if all that existed then. I knew how to do what I knew how to do, and that was fine. It was the 1980s.

Right out of college, I took a job as a flight attendant. All I needed to know how to do on the computer was sign in for trips and sign out when I was done. Easy peasy! I didn’t need to know more! I later worked in the travel industry, planning trips and meetings, but there was a certain computer system we used for that. I knew what I knew, and it worked for me. I was a pen and ink girl for a lot of things, because I found that I remembered things when I wrote them down. I still take constant notes when I’m in a meeting or on the phone, because that’s how my memory works…write it down, and I’ll remember it. My memory rarely fails me. Four hundred people attending a meeting? I have immediate recall if I write the names down before typing them into the computer. When they arrived and told me their names, I knew if they were registered or not…immediate recall. If someone couldn’t find someone’s name in registration, they would come to me, and when I heard the name, I would know if they had actually registered or not…immediate recall.

And then, technology moved a lot faster than I did. I can use a computer. I can launch a simple website using WordPress. I have always been able to do most of the things I needed to do, or I knew who to ask.  I have a dear friend who is a librarian, and she has taught me a lot. Sometimes, when I knew it would take time for her to teach me how to do things, I simply asked her to do them for me, and being the awesome friend she is, she did them. But I should do better.

One thing I learned during this pandemic is that I need to get up to speed on technology.

With the pandemic, everything has become “virtual.” That means I had to learn how to join Zoom meetings and Google Meet. Seriously, I had never done that before, but now I get it! I haven’t set one up yet, but I’m going to figure that out too. I might even try that today, just so I know how when I need it.

This year, I became a member of the board of a club at our daughter’s school that produces and presents a big awards show at the end of the year, and I signed on to chair that event. Fortunately, the people who have chaired it for the past six years were still on board, and I would treat this year as an apprenticeship, because I learned that I have a lot to learn…about the event, the process, and about technology.

I like to think I “learned on the job” this year. I can usually open an app and figure it out. I’m not completely inept. And I’ve worked with the Word app before, but this year, I was given a Word template to use for the awards show, and it threw me for a loop! It was something that was to be top secret, and only my eyes could see the finished product, so I had to figure it out. Word is a pretty simple app, right? Well, I sat down to work with the template, which I had been warned was a little tricky, but I thought, “I’ve got this!” No, I didn’t. Every time I would try to replace script within the template, it became skewed, or it wouldn’t do anything at all! I would click where I wanted to type…nothing.

After struggling with the template, I called my librarian friend to ask her what I’m doing wrong. After telling her what was happening, she said, “I think you have a different version of Word on your laptop, and maybe you need the latest one.” I couldn’t get my computer to download the latest version of Word, because well, my laptop is on my husband’s ID, and I don’t know the password. He was out of town, so I called him…he doesn’t know it either. I think it’s time for me to get my own laptop. That was the first thing I learned.

I struggled. I stressed. I didn’t know what I was doing, but I refused to admit defeat. I refused to admit to the other committee members that I didn’t have a clue. I had a few days to figure it out at that point, so I put it aside and went to bed.

At about 1:30am, I woke up and had a thought, “Maybe I can download the latest version on my phone and make it work?” I downloaded the latest version of Word to my phone, and lo and behold…within two minutes, I had everything on the template changed. I slept peacefully after that. I had found a solution to my problem, and I even felt a little…dare I say… savvy!

In reality, I know I’m not savvy. When other people send me documents to peruse or edit, it still scares me. I’m terrified I will mess it up beyond repair. I tend to think of the old Los Angeles Dodgers second baseman, Steve Sax, in the 1983 season. I remember hearing someone say about him, because he was the error king, “He has messed up second base so badly, nobody will  ever be able to play it!”  (In all fairness, I should tell you Sax eventually overcame his case of the “yips” and had a full career in Major League Baseball…and he was easy on the eyes. You can see an old picture of him on TMZ here.)  I suppose I need to take my own advice that I often give our daughter. She enjoys sports, and I always tell her that if she believes she can do something…if she can visualize herself doing something in a game…she can do it. Sometimes, confidence will pull us through. My brother goes into things knowing he can do them. He’s not cocky. He’s just confident. I need to approach technology with the same confidence.

So if I’ve learned anything during this pandemic, it’s that I have a lot to learn. I have set a goal to learn as much as I can over the summer about different useful apps…so I won’t be afraid of them anymore. I’m going to learn how to create slides and videos and fancy, complicated spreadsheets. Sure, I might have to ask my teenage daughter to tutor me along the way, but that’s OK.

I also know I owe my librarian friend dinner and a cocktail for all the whining she has listened to!

Bring on the technology!

My Birthday

My birthday.

Today is my birthday. Everyone who knows me knows I love my birthday in a crazy way. I can’t help it. It’s my day, and I love it.

My daughter is fully aware of how much I love my birthday. She woke up this morning and texted me before I was even awake. Apparently my husband took coffee up to her before bringing me coffee this morning…to give me a few extra minutes of sleep. His bringing me coffee is not a birthday thing; I’m fortunate that he brings me coffee in bed every day, which makes every day feel like a birthday, I guess. But today really is my birthday.

When my daughter texted me from upstairs this morning, she said, “Happy Birthday to the best mom ever!” I replied, “Thank you! I love you!” She replied, “Love you more!” I responded with “You have no idea how much I love you. One day, when you have a child of your own, you will understand.” And that’s the absolute truth. I always knew my mother and daddy loved me, but once I had my own child, I fully understood the depth of their love for me. So when she says “love you more,” I always think, “Just you wait till you have your own child.” Always.

Birthdays are funny like that. I love celebrating, but I also love reflecting on previous birthdays.

Last year on this day, I was in Los Angeles with my friend, Meg. My “birthday twin,” Chiko, was getting married on our shared birthday. Chiko and I call ourselves “birthday twins,” because we share a birthday. No, we aren’t the same age. In fact, she is far younger than I am. She is also far taller, and she is drop-dead gorgeous. Add in the fact that I’m from Alabama, and she is from Nigeria, and we are some interesting “twins.” She is, quite possibly, one of the kindest people…and funniest people… I’ve ever known. I was fortunate to be invited to her wedding, and I took my friend, Meg, as my “plus one.” My teenage daughter had final exams, and my husband stayed home with her. It was a glorious wedding/reception, and Chiko was the most beautiful bride! I’ve written about it before, because a Nigerian wedding is a real event! Wow! And the food! We made new friends and tried new foods…a most memorable wedding and memorable birthday.

This year is a much quieter birthday, partly because of the pandemic, and partly because it’s raining all day in Charlotte. I’m perfectly happy with a quiet birthday. My daughter eventually came downstairs this morning and snuggled in bed with me, and I told her, “This right here is the perfect birthday gift…just getting to be with you.” And it made me think of my mother. It sounded like something she would have said. I’ve been a mother for 16 years, so now I fully understand why my mother felt that way…because she loved me more than I ever could have imagined.

So I’ll enjoy a quiet birthday with my little family. It’s also National Sunscreen Day, but we definitely don’t need sunscreen in Charlotte today, since there’s not a chance the clouds are going to lift. We’ll stay in and be quiet today, but that doesn’t mean I can’t keep celebrating for at least a week (or a month)! I’ll need that sunscreen soon!

Happy Birthday to me!

 

Vote Me Off the Island…Please!

Vote me off the island…please!

Last night, I accidentally woke my husband up about 15 minutes after he had fallen asleep. He was fast asleep, and I was scrolling Facebook, waiting for my restless leg syndrome meds to kick in…pun intended. As I passed pictures of different people around the country in various stages of “shelter in place” or “economy is open,” I came across something from the Today.com Facebook page titled Married? Quarantined? These hilarious parents get the struggle. And that got my attention. So I clicked.

Do you remember middle school health class? Remember when the teacher told the whole class they were going to learn about sex, but if you laughed, you were just showing your own immaturity? Remember how just knowing you weren’t supposed to laugh caused a giggle to start welling up inside you, even before anyone said the word “penis”? That’s how I felt while I was reading this piece on Today.com…I felt like that kid in health class who was trying not to laugh, but because she was trying not to laugh, everything was funnier.

Well, I started reading the piece on Today.com, and everything it said was so familiar! Those other people writing the posts could have been me! You can see the whole post by clicking here. But just so you get the idea, one post, from “Lurkin’ Mom,” said, “My husband came home from the store with red delicious apples like he thinks I won’t divorce him just because we’re in the middle of a pandemic.”  Aren’t we all tired of listening to our family members chew?!?! I started to giggle…even though I knew I wasn’t supposed to, because my husband would be angry if I woke him up….and knowing I wasn’t supposed to laugh just made it worse. My silent giggles were causing me to shake, which in turn, was causing the bed to shake. I kept reading, because there was no turning back once I got the giggles, and then I read this post by Maryfairyboberry:

Quarantine Day 2, Hour 689- I’ve become very aware of my husband’s toenails and I’d like to be voted off the island now.

And that was it…I lost it. All those giggles I had been trying to suppress came out in repeated snorts! Yes, I was snort-laughing, because I was trying so hard not to laugh! It wasn’t just one snort…and they were loud snort-laughs! I knew I was in trouble when my husband sat straight up and said, “Are you OK?!?!?!”

That’s when I could just let the laughter go…tears of laughter were rolling down my face as I tried to explain to him while gasping for air, “I’m…fine…I’m…just…laughing…at…this…post!” He was not amused. He wasn’t terribly angry, but he did say, “Why don’t you just go to sleep like a normal person?!?”

Hmmm…because I’m not a normal person?

Here’s the thing…I was laughing so hard at all those posts, because they ring so true! I don’t mean the toenail thing is true. My husband’s toenails are just fine, but when you’re cooped up together for so long, something is going to bother you! I love my husband, but we just aren’t meant to be together 24/7 for weeks/months on end! Is any couple really supposed to be together 24/7 for weeks/months on end?!?! I feel pretty sure that if someone asked my husband right now, “If you were stranded on a deserted island and could pick one person to have with you, who would it be?”…he would not pick me. I’d probably pick Bear Grylls, for his survival skills alone, but he’d make fun of my lack of survival skills…so I’m going with Jason Momoa or The Rock…or maybe Mike Rowe! Yes, Mike Rowe would be my choice. My husband would for sure pick Heidi Klum or Giselle Bundchen. He would not pick me.

Trust me when I say he wants to be voted off this island too! It’s not just me! We enjoy each other’s company, and we have had a lot of fun together during the shelter-in-place order. We’ve spent time in the sun. He has helped me with my gardening. We’ve watched a lot of bad TV. We’ve had cocktails under the stars….and laughed till our stomachs hurt. But it’s time to leave Isolation Island, and if one of us doesn’t leave soon, well, don’t blame us for what happens.

Lucky for him (and me), he is going to the beach this weekend. I guess here is where I need to put another disclaimer: I love my husband. I do not want him to be gone permanently, but his going to the beach for the weekend will be good for both of us! When he comes home, I will welcome him with open arms. Absence makes the heart grow fonder!

But back to that Today.com piece…do you want to know which post resonated the most with me? My friend, Mary Ann, called me after I reposted the whole piece from Today.com. She said, “I know exactly which post made you laugh the hardest.” And she was right. If you read my piece back on February 26 titled Karma Bit Me (you can see it here), then you’ll understand. In the Today.com piece, jackwax04 posted this exchange:

(my husband has the man flu. After 3 days):

M: will you please just take the medicine?

H: “pouts” fine, what flavor is it?

M: what flav…it’s ADULT FLAVORED!

 

Holy moly…welcome to my world! And yes, please vote me off the island now!

Should I Stay or Should I Go?

Should I stay or should I go now? If I go, it will be trouble. If I stay it will be double. 

What a great song by The Clash! How many times did I sing and dance along to that one at a party in college?!?

Well, now, with the new coronavirus, it’s a real question. As spring break approaches for lots of us, we’re all wondering if we should travel or not.

Here’s how I feel…unless someone in my family catches the new coronavirus in the next week, we’re going. It’s spring break. We are meeting friends at a resort inside the United States, and by golly, we are going. This trip has been booked for a while, and we have been looking forward to it. If we were planning to go somewhere the government advised against going, we would definitely cancel. But that’s not the case, so we are going to single-handedly save the economy! Somebody has to do it! We’re all relatively healthy, and hopefully, I’m not jinxing us by putting this out there. If we come home sick, we’ll definitely isolate ourselves. I have friends who have family members who simply cannot be exposed to this virus, because they have health issues. I get it. I don’t want them to catch it, and I don’t want anyone in my family to catch it either, but we’re going.

It has become obvious to me in the past few weeks that people are cancelling travel plans. Whenever we travel, I continue checking hotel rates right up till I get there, because rates can go down, and I’ve seen a sharp decrease in the resort rates over the past couple of weeks. Every time, I call the hotel and ask them to adjust my rate, and they oblige. I always tell my friends to do the same. (That’s you. I’m advising you to check your hotel rates, and if they have gone down, call your resort/hotel and insist on a rate adjustment.) Seriously, our rate has gone down about 30%.

And no, we won’t be wearing face masks. From what I understand, they don’t work unless the sick person is wearing them.

We will refrain from shaking hands. We will try to avoid crowds…well, except at the airport, because we’re flying…so there’s that. But we will try to wipe down every surface we come into contact with in the airport and on the plane. We will have lots of hand sanitizer with us, and we will use it…constantly. We will wash our hands and refrain from touching our faces. We will not hold our phones up to our faces. That’s not a problem for my teenage daughter, because teenagers simply don’t talk on the phone. They only text. Teenagers these days don’t even flinch when the phone rings. I’m not sure they even know how to talk on the phone. It’s a dying art.

It will actually be interesting to see what folks are doing in the airport. If someone coughs or sneezes, will everyone turn and look at them?!? If someone looks a little sick, will everyone keep their distance? Will there be lines to wash hands in the restrooms all over the airport? That’s weird to think about, because standing in line will put people in close proximity with each other. Maybe we should all wear hazmat suits in the airport? That’s actually a funny visual.

My husband isn’t traveling with us this year, because we are doing some renovations in our home, and he is going to stay home and deal with contractors. Hopefully, we don’t bring home coronavirus or the flu! Everyone does remember it’s still flu season too, right?

I’m taking my own little, homemade first aid kit. Here’s what I’m including:

  • digital thermometer
  • Ibuprofen and Acetominophen
  • Mucinex (expectorant for cough, get it here)
  • one personal hand sanitizer per person (good luck finding them now if you don’t have them)
  • rubbing alcohol/alcohol wipes (I’ll have to bring what I have on hand, since I can’t find them anywhere)

And when I arrive, my friend and I will go to the liquor store and purchase a bottle of Everclear pure grain alcohol. It’s 95% alcohol, so I’m thinking I can add a splash to drinks, but I can also wipe down surfaces with it if I need to. Seriously. Call me crazy, but I think it’s creative!

Should I stay or should I go? I should go…and take all the necessary precautions, including saying prayers that coronavirus doesn’t strike and prayers of healing for those who have it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Karma Bit Me

Two weeks ago, my husband came down with a cold. There’s a reason we have the term “man cold,” and my husband’s behavior was a perfect example of it. As lots of men do, he acted like he was dying. It’s rare that I ever just “give in” to a cold, but my husband almost always does for a day or two, and I almost always make fun of him for it.

In this particular instance, I came home from volunteering at our daughter’s school, and he was in bed. I asked, “Are you OK?” He looked at me with pitiful, watery, red eyes, and said, “I’m sick. I have a doctor’s appointment in the morning.” I stopped in my tracks on my way into the bathroom, looked directly at him, and said, “Really? You have a cold.” He sneezed before giving me the stink-eye look, and I walked on into the bathroom, secretly rolling my eyes while my back was to him. Later, I just couldn’t resist, and I reminded him that going to the doctor for a cold wouldn’t do him much good. They could tell him what to do to treat the symptoms, but then, so could I. “Drink lots of fluids. Take Motrin for any aches and pains. Take whichever meds work for you…Nyquil? DayQuil? Allegra? Mucinex?” He didn’t want to hear me.

The next day, he went to the doctor, where he was told he was suffering from allergies, and he was told to “drink plenty of fluids, take Motrin for aches and pains, and take Allegra.” OK. Whatever. Our daughter had just recovered from a cold, so I felt pretty sure what he had was a cold, but OK. I stopped harassing him. I let him “give in” to his “allergies.”

And then, a few days later,  I caught his “allergies.” I woke up one morning and knew I had caught his cold. That morning, I said to him, “Thanks for sharing your ‘allergies’ with me.” Of course, I did air quotes around “allergies” when I said it. By this point, he had his sense of humor back, and he laughed. He also said, “Well, that’s what you get for making fun of me.”

He was right. As badly as it pains me to say those three words, I told him, “You are right.” Karma had bitten me right on the…nose.

But it gets better. Not only did Karma bite me. Karma kept on biting me till I came down with a brutal sinus infection, something I’ve never experienced. It’s painful. The whole left side of my face was hurting. In fact, I went to the doctor and got a prescription for some antibiotics, and 24 hours later, my face is still hurting. Karma.

I’ve learned my lesson. I’ve written 500 times, “I will not make fun of my husband again.” I have apologized to my husband profusely. I’ve tried to atone for my transgression, but Karma doesn’t care. Karma just keeps on biting me, and I deserve it.

So next time your husband gets a “man cold,” do not make fun of him. Learn from my mistake. Just let it ride. Take care of him. Bring him chicken soup in bed. Ask him repeatedly if he needs anything. Tell him you’re sorry he doesn’t feel well. Don’t ask him to do his chores. Just let it ride. Seriously.

If you’ve ever wondered if Karma is real, this is a short-term example of how very real it is. Next time you feel wronged, if you start wondering if Karma will ever bite the other person, I’m going to tell you, without hesitation, you can bet your sweet bippy it will. You might not be there to see it, but Karma is real! 

How Did I Miss Out on This?!?!

How did I miss out on this?!?!

Throughout life, there are times that I’ve thought, “How did I miss out on this?!?!” But by the time I reached age 52, I thought I had likely seen it all. Surely, unless it’s something new, there’s nothing that’s been going on for years around me that I didn’t even notice. Sure, at 40-something, I learned about the little tabs on the end of the aluminum foil box that hold the roll in place, but that was before I was 50. I wasn’t surprised about the flat tire icon on the car dashboard or the little arrow that shows which side the gas tank is on. If you don’t know all those things, you need to get busy Googling.

But earlier this week, I learned about something that is supposedly southern that I didn’t know about. That thing? Pineapple Casserole. Never heard of it till Sunday or Monday of this week, and as I type, it’s Wednesday. I grew up in Alabama. If it’s a southern dish, how did I manage to make it to 52 without ever having heard of it?!?

So I did what I do. I went to my personal Facebook page and asked my friends if they grew up eating/knowing about Pineapple Casserole, and if they did, where did they grow up?

I got lots of responses saying they grew up with it. Lots of folks from North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Mississippi, and surprisingly (to me), Alabama…even a friend from High Springs, Florida, which is actually in the part of Florida that’s still “southern” had grown up with it! My people (an aunt and cousins) in the Florida Panhandle (a part of Florida that is still very southern) had not grow up seeing it, just like I’d never seen it. One cousin said she had it as an adult when a friend made it, but otherwise, my family had somehow missed out on Pineapple Casserole. Maybe it’s a familial thing??? I’d never even had it at my grandmother’s house in Birmingham, but according to a cousin who now lives in California, she had served it to her and her friends she referred to as the “soup ladies.” Even my friend, Amy, from Selma, Alabama (does it get any more southern than Selma?!?), said she did not eat it growing up. I promptly decided we must be related, since we both grew up in Alabama and had never heard of it. I now refer to her as Cousin Amy.

But just so you know, friends from Indiana, Philadelphia, and Delaware also had it when they were growing up, so now I’m wondering just how “southern” it is. But that’s beside the point. Everyone except one South Carolina girl gave it two thumbs up, so you know I have to try it.

I will make it later this week, and I can hardly wait! But for the holy grail of Pineapple Casseroles, I’m going to ask my friend, Crazy Jane, to make it for me when she visits. Crazy Jane is the best cook in the world, so even if we followed the exact same recipe, her version would be far better than mine. She just has a special touch.

I’ve asked several friends what I should expect. Some say it’s the perfect side dish with ham. Others say it’s almost dessert-like, because it does contain sugar…and not just a little of it. Plus, pineapple is sweet and a little dessert-like, right? It also contains butter, flour, cheese, and other stuff. Sounds disgusting, right? But my friends know good food, so I’m trusting them when they say it’s delicious. I thought the recipe for the Mississippi Pot Roast (click here) sounded disgusting too, but I absolutely love the stuff!

So I know you’ve been waiting for the recipe. I went to the Southern Living website for the recipe, because it’s a site I trust. If Southern Living posts a bad recipe, they hear about it from lots of southern ladies, so I think they’re pretty careful. You can see the recipe here.

If you’ve never had Pineapple Casserole and decide to make it, I’d love to hear your feedback! I’m starting to question my southern roots, since I’ve never had it! How did that happen?!? I’ve been to lots of church covered dish lunches and family potlucks, and I’ve never seen it. Or maybe when I was a kid, I saw it and thought it looked disgusting. That’s likely. I’ll let you know what I think after I make it.

I’m also wondering if I can get Hungry Girl to do some ingredient swaps and bring down the calorie count on this crazy sounding dish?!? Maybe I’ll send the recipe to their test kitchen!

 

 

Time Marches On (Across Your Face)

Time marches on…

If there’s a better TV/movie southern female character than Truvy in Steel Magnolias, please tell me where to see her. Truvy, the hairdresser (played by Dolly Parton in the movie), has some great lines, and one of my favorites is:

Time marches on, and sooner or later you realize it’s marchin’ across your face.

God bless Truvy. We all know she’s right. Well, if you’re under 40, you might not realize she’s right, but sooner or later, you’ll realize it.

***On a side note, my friend, Linda Edwards Campbell, will be portraying Truvy in Steel Magnolias at Flat Rock Playhouse, the State Theater of North Carolina, from May 22 to June 6. For tickets and information, click here! It’s a must see! I can hardly wait to see it!

I went to dinner last night with some girlfriends to celebrate a birthday. The friend who had the birthday is several years younger than I am, so that puts her smack in the middle of her 40s. She can still see the words in books without reading glasses somehow, and she could hear everything that was being said at the next table. I, on the other hand, had to get out my phone and use the camera as a magnifying glass to see the menu, and I was blissfully unaware that anyone was even talking at the next table, because I hear very little of anything that is said directly to me, let alone at another table.

But at some point, we started sharing our favorite quotes about aging. Mine, of course, was Miss Truvy’s quote. Here are some others that we howled about over dinner and drinks before all of us used modern technology and took an Uber home:

“As a graduate of the Zsa Zsa Gabor School of Mathematics, I honestly do not know how old I am.” –Erma Bombeck (one of my favorite humorists of all time)

“I’m not as good as I once was, but I’m as good once as I ever was.” –Toby Keith (it makes me laugh every time I hear it)

“Age is not how old you are, but how many years of fun you’ve had.” –Matt Maldre (I say “amen” to this!)

“Old age is not for sissies.” –Art Linkletter (I was likely the only child in America who loved Art Linkletter books. My mother had lots of them, and I read them all…repeatedly.)

“Nice to be here? At my age, it’s nice to be anywhere.” –George Burns (who didn’t love George and Gracie?”

“You know you’re getting old when the candles cost more than the cake.” –Bob Hope (As a little girl, I stayed up late watching old movies, many of which starred Mr. Hope…like “I’ll Take Sweden.”)

“The older we get, the fewer things seem worth waiting in line for.” –Will Rogers (ain’t that the truth?!? I won’t even go to a restaurant that doesn’t take reservations anymore!)

“At age 20, we worry about what others think of us. At age 40, we don’t care what they think of us. At age 60, we discover they haven’t been thinking of us at all.” –Ann Landers (this is another favorite, because I know it’s the truth!)

We all had a great time celebrating our 40-something friend. And now she knows that in just fifteen years or so, no one will care one bit about what she does, because she’ll be 60. I’ll get there sooner than she does, “good Lord willin’ and the creek don’t rise”!

Happy Birthday to my friend again! I’m so happy your birthday made us all talk about these quotes! Let’s all age gracefully, even though time has marched all over my face!

***Featured image from Steel Magnolias***