Thank you, Krispy Kreme

Thank you, Krispy Kreme!

Oh, Krispy Kreme, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways: dozens and dozens and dozens…

I grew up in Alabama. When I was a little girl living in Spanish Fort, Alabama, on the Eastern Shore of Mobile Bay, we had to drive past a Krispy Kreme on Government Street in downtown Mobile every time we went to Bel Air Mall…and that was pretty often…usually on Saturdays. My family would shop, and my brother and I would eat French fries at the Eckerd’s lunch counter or the Woolworth’s counter in the mall. And sometimes, when we were lucky, on the drive home, Mother and Daddy would want to stop for a cup of coffee at the Krispy Kreme.

That particular Krispy Kreme franchise, I’ve been told, was an early franchise location. It served many a reveler after late nights during Mardi Gras for years. After moving away from the Mobile area as a child, I returned in my 20s, and that franchise location looked the exact same as I had remembered it…nothing had changed. In fact, I think it looked “original” till I moved away in 2000. Sadly, it closed in 2011. Repeated efforts to redesign the building for a drive-thru proved fruitless when they realized they would have to move parking to the back of the building, making it difficult for walk-in customers to gain access. I have some good memories of watching the doughnuts being made in that building…moving down the conveyor system. And I remember sitting at the counter on one of the green and silver round stools, enjoying a doughnut and laughing with my brother as a kid.

Clearly, Krispy Kreme has a positive connotation for me. So when Krispy Kreme announced they will give a free doughnut to customers who show their vaccine cards, I was thrilled. When I heard people were bashing the company for it, I was baffled. What the what? Apparently, there are people who think Krispy Kreme is “bribing” people into getting the vaccine. Really? That’s a pretty cheap “bribe.” Others posted on social media about how unhealthy the doughnuts are, and they shouldn’t be offering them.

I have four words for that: Give me a break!

Here’s how I feel. I don’t think Krispy Kreme is “bribing” anyone. I think they are rewarding people for getting vaccinated, and I truly believe this is a genius marketing campaign. They know most people won’t just come in and get that free doughnut. Most people will purchase at least one more item. And then there are the folks like me, who will purchase a couple dozen, just to share with anyone who comes to our house. Krispy Kreme will make money on the deal for sure. If you can be bribed for the price of a doughnut, you’ve got bigger problems.

As for the “health” issues…if you don’t want a doughnut, don’t go to Krispy Kreme for your free doughnut. If a vegan restaurant were offering something free as a reward, I wouldn’t go get it, because…you guessed it… I’m not vegan. But Krispy Kreme? You can bet your sweet bippy I’ll be getting my doughnut. In fact, I plan to meet friends there and have coffee too! And we will take pictures in the Krispy Kreme paper hats and post them all over social media…just wait. But if you are so worried about the health implications of eating a single doughnut, don’t sit by me. I don’t want to hear it. I just want to enjoy my doughnut and laugh with all my friends who will be enjoying theirs too.

I think Krispy Kreme is a great business. I have supported them my whole life. As an adult, I’ve been known to purchase multiple boxes at holidays and pass them out to friends and family. When we volunteered to donate cakes to the cake walk at the school carnival when my daughter was little, our “doughnut cakes” made with tiers of Krispy Kreme doughnuts and frosting/sprinkles were the most popular cakes at the events! Do I think people should eat them all day every day? No. But the occasional Krispy Kreme doughnut? Yes, please!

So if you don’t want your doughnut, please don’t go to Krispy Kreme. The line will be shorter for me and my friends, several of whom are physicians! Or better yet, go get your doughnut and pass it to me. But if you’re not going to get one…get out of my way. Don’t be a buzzkill.

Thank you, Krispy Kreme! I will get there as fast as I can with my completed vaccination card next Monday! I’ll be posting pictures on Instagram and Facebook before I even leave the store!

***Want to learn more about Krispy Kreme? Want to order one of those awesome coffee cups or some apparel? Click here!***

Messages from Heaven

Messages from Heaven.

I lost my dad in 2006. My mother passed in December 2017. And then, a dear friend left this world in 2018. I remember lots of conversations I had with each of them when they were alive, but I also get “messages” from them now.

Unfortunately, Facebook wasn’t a thing when my daddy was living. If Facebook existed then, I didn’t know it. Daddy would not have been into social media, anyway… but if he had been around for Facebook, he likely would have checked it sometimes, just to see pictures of my growing daughter, since we lived 600 miles away.

But my mother and my friend who passed in 2018…they were into Facebook.

Today, as always, I checked my Facebook “memories,” where I get to take a look at my posts from the same day in different years past. No big deal, right? I usually laugh or smile as I scroll through them, and today was no different.

As I scrolled through my “memories,” I came across a post from this day in 2012. In the post, I asked friends to pray for a friend who was having surgery on that day. I read through the comments, and there, at the bottom of the comments…a comment from my friend who was having surgery…the same friend who passed in 2018. It was just one simple sentence, “Oh, sweet Kelly…always thinking of me.” As I read it, I could hear her saying it, and I got a little emotional. You know how we we think we have moved beyond grief? You know how lots of people don’t understand grief continues for an undefined length of time? Well, this is an example of how grief lingers. Who knew such a simple comment would make me miss her so much 2 1/2 years after her passing?

Once, when that same friend and I were walking to the car after spending the afternoon at the beach in Maine many years ago, we looked up at the sky, and we both had the same reaction. We stopped and gasped. There was a big hole in the clouds…it looked as if God might reach down through that hole and touch the earth. (It’s the feature photo, but the photo doesn’t really do it justice.) We called the scene “the hand of God.” Every time I see a similar scene now, I think of my friend and “the hand of God.”

Occasionally, I see comments from my mother on Facebook, and I have an emotional reaction to those too. It’s different than finding a note or card…maybe because it’s a reactive message? She’s reacting to something I posted on Facebook? It just seems more conversational.

And then there are different kinds of messages…

A few days before Christmas, I got a different kind of message from my mother…in the grocery store, of all places. I was shopping for all the things I would need on Christmas Day when I remembered we would also need bread to make sandwiches after Christmas, so I dashed around to the bread aisle. And that’s when I saw her…my mother…standing in front of the bread…and I stopped in my tracks. I took a deep breath and moved closer. Don’t freak out. It wasn’t a ghost. She wasn’t looking at me. She was trying to pick a loaf of bread, and I stood behind her, waiting patiently…and watching.

No, it wasn’t really my mother. It wasn’t a ghost. It was just a woman who, from behind, looked like my mother. She was short…about my mother’s height. She had her hair brushed in the same way Mother brushed her hair. Her arms looked just like Mother’s. She stood like Mother. She was wearing something Mother would have worn. I never saw her face, but I ended up behind her a couple more times before I left the store…and found myself walking out the door behind her! In fact, I took a photo of her and sent it to my brother, my cousin, and my aunt, all of whom reacted exactly as I did. They were shocked, but they were happy. No, it wasn’t my mother, but I felt like seeing this woman was a message from my mother…just a little “hello” in the grocery store.

A few weeks before that, I was in Michael’s Arts and Crafts when I rounded a corner and gasped audibly. Standing in front of me was a woman who, from behind, looked just like my friend who passed away in 2018. I saw her two more times in the store that day…and then, as I was walking out, I passed a woman who, from behind, looked just like my mother. I have decided she was the same woman who was in the grocery store a few days before Christmas.

I get visits from my daddy too. I’ve seen him walking across a parking lot, and I have seen him in the background of other people’s photos on social media. But usually, he visits in my dreams…always laughing and happy. The first time he ever visited me, I was dreaming I was with my little family at Disney’s Magic Kingdom, watching the parade. Float after float went by, and then suddenly, there was Daddy…waving big and laughing from the float. It’s something Daddy never would have done, but it made me happy that in my dream, I was in “the happiest place on earth,” and he was laughing and waving, letting me know he is happy.

Are these really messages from Heaven? I have no idea, but I choose to believe they are, because they keep my loved ones on my mind…and they make me feel connected to them.

I Am A Perfect Social Media Mom

Last week, a friend mentioned in her blog how she hates perfect social media moms…you know, the ones who can do every Pinterest project perfectly while holding triplets on both hips and working a glamorous job?

Well, I’m not that person. I’m a stay-at-home mom who totally flies by the seat of her pants. I don’t have a glamorous job, and I don’t want one. I only have one child, and as easy as that may sound, she’s a teenager, so no matter what, it’s not easy. I don’t have a perfect, color-coded closet. In fact, I can barely see the floor of my closet after getting dressed to go somewhere, because I try on different outfits and drop them in the floor when I move to the next one. I’m terrible at Pinterest projects. I cook sometimes, but my family doesn’t eat it. Sometimes, I have a perfect manicure and pedicure, but most of the time, I’m hoping no one looks at my hands and feet. I love a good tan, but I’ve resorted to sunless tanning, because it’s cheap, easy, and it doesn’t require me to sweat. I still spend a lot of time outdoors, tending my garden, but I choose to be out there before 10am and in the evenings. Since I mentioned my garden, I should tell you it’s not worthy of photos this year. The tomatoes might have southern blight or black speck disease or black spot disease…they aren’t producing like they should. The first few I picked were fantastic, but now, they’ve just stopped growing new fruit. The tomatoes are “organic,” but if they don’t produce, my family won’t get any organic foods this summer. And I’m not even sure I know what GMO means. My suitcases from my recent road trip are still not completely unpacked. In fact, my carry-on bag from my trip to LA in June still isn’t unpacked. But I’m not putting pictures of that on social media!

But am I a perfect social media mom? Sure I am, but it’s not because I’m perfect. It’s because I’m not perfect. That’s what makes me a perfect social media mom. Sure, I try to post flattering pictures of myself and family, but sometimes, I just have to post pics of bad hair days or no makeup or terrible outfits that I thought looked great when I put them on, but noticed later they were major fails. And if I do manage to post a great picture with people in it, it’s probably the only one out of 75 that I took that was presentable. Or maybe I didn’t realize I had black beans in my teeth, or a terrible panty line, or muffin top.

Here’s what everyone needs to know. Our imperfections make us perfect. Should we make an attempt at putting our best foot forward? Of course. It’s human nature. But when you see a picture of me with ill-fitting sunglasses or a bad angle, it’s because there is something about that picture I wanted to save. In fact, there is a picture of me on Facebook and Instagram right now with a friend from 4th grade. It’s a terrible picture of me, but it’s the only picture we took. So you can see me standing funny with my pants doing something weird…plus, I look really tall next to my friend, because I had on wedges and she didn’t. But the imperfections make it perfect, because I loved spending time with my childhood friend.

So get out there and be the perfectly imperfect social media mom, and enjoy every minute. One day, our kids will be grown, and we will enjoy the memories we have saved for ourselves through social media.

You can find solace in knowing that even the perfect social media moms aren’t perfect. They’re just posting their most perfect pictures. So don’t have FOMO (fear of missing out), and don’t have Facebook Envy. Your life is perfect just as it is…because it’s yours.

Cheers to Cheerwine

You don’t know what Cheerwine is? Well, I didn’t either till I moved to North Carolina.

I got married in 2000 and loaded up all my belongings in a U-Haul truck, taking them all to my new home with my new husband in Charlotte, North Carolina.

When I moved to Charlotte, I found a beautiful city with lots of green spaces and lovely people. I was thrilled to be living in a bigger city that, at the time, was a hub for USAirways. USAirways has since merged with American Airlines, so our hub is even better now. Charlotte is jam packed with stuff to do…NFL games, NBA games, minor league baseball, museums, a large amusement park, NASCAR, and more.

After moving to Charlotte, I was also introduced to Cheerwine, a cherry-flavored soft drink bottled in Salisbury, a small town located just northeast of Charlotte, and I loved it. The first question I had about it might be the same question you have: does it contain alcohol? Even though the word “wine” is in the name of the drink, there is no alcohol in Cheerwine. The only cherry-flavored soda I’d ever had prior to Cheerwine was Cherry Coke, which has more of a cola base with a little cherry thrown in. And maybe Dr. Pepper? Do people think it has some cherry flavor? It’s good, but it’s not really a cherry soda. I had enjoyed cherry Icees over the years, but Cheerwine was something different.

On their website, which you can see here, they call themselves “the south’s unique cherry soft drink.” Unique? Indeed…and in a good way! According to the website, it was created in Salisbury, North Carolina, by a gentleman named L.D. Peeler in 1917. That’s over 100 years of Cheerwine! You can read all about the history of the refreshing beverage on their website. In the early 1970s, they introduced Diet Cheerwine, which is actually my favorite, because I just don’t enjoy beverages with real sugar. Lots of people love the original recipe, but I’m a Diet Cheerwine fan all the way. *Don’t preach to me about artificial sweeteners. It will fall on deaf ears.*

Folks in North Carolina are proud of Cheerwine, and lots of folks grew up drinking it. Whenever I think of things that are uniquely representative of the Carolinas, Cheerwine is at the top of list…right up there with college basketball and NASCAR. If you haven’t tried Cheerwine, you should. You can order it online, shipped directly to your home, from cheerwine.com here.

From their site, you can also order Cheerwine apparel, merchandise, and sauces. Most importantly, you can find recipes for cakes, barbecue sauces, and cocktails. There’s a recipe for a Cheerwine southern bundt cake that looks especially appealing to me. I find myself thinking about that cake pretty regularly. I’m going to just have to break down and make one.

And to top it all off, in addition to having the south’s unique cherry soft drink, fun merchandise, apparel, and recipes, Cheerwine has a summer contest going on right now. You can win a vacation getaway! For more information, click here. Who knows, maybe Cheerwine will send you to Asheville, The Outer Banks, or Charleston! You’ll have to take some pics with Cheerwine and put the appropriate hashtag on social media. If you don’t have Cheerwine, you can order it from the website and get started on that contest!

Cheers to Cheerwine!

 

 

Facebook Is Like A Nosey Neighbor

Y’all know I love Facebook. I don’t really think it’s like a nosey neighbor. Heck, you don’t have to be nosey to see details of my life on Facebook…I’m putting them out there myself.

But yesterday, my clever, witty friend, Mary Ann, posted this on Facebook:

Facebook is like having nosey neighbors who don’t really like you. They just stay connected to look over the fence and see what you’re doing.

Before I continue, I must say I prefer it to be spelled “nosy,” so that’s how it will be spelled from here on in this piece.

It wasn’t Mary Ann’s original creation. She got it from a site called Kitchen Fun With My 3 Sons. First of all, it made me laugh, and then it made me think. Aren’t we all peering through a window or over a fence into each other’s lives on Facebook? The difference between looking over a fence or peering into a window and Facebook, though, is that, on social media, we control what other people see about our lives. If you have a peeping Tom or a nosy neighbor, you don’t always know what they see, and you can’t always control it.

About ten years ago, a friend (I’m keeping her name private, to protect the innocent) moved to a new house. She left behind some beloved neighbors, and when she settled into her new home, she discovered her new next-door neighbor was Gladys Kravitz. If you don’t know who Gladys Kravitz is, you never watched the television show, Bewitched. On the show, Mrs. Kravitz was the ultimate nosy neighbor. So my friend’s neighbor wasn’t actually Gladys Kravitz, but she was a real-life, 21st century version of her.

They had a privacy fence between the backyards of the two houses, and occasionally, when my friend was outside, she would catch a glimpse of “Mrs. Kravitz” peering over the fence or between the slats. One day, she called me and said, “I wish I could think of something to shock her.” Well, she had come to the right friend! It became my mission to find the perfect thing to shock Mrs. Kravitz. Sure, we could have gone with a life-size nude statue. But that would have been a little heavy…and probably expensive. Instead, we devised a plan.

My friend went to her local discount store and purchased a rotary clothesline, putting it up in her backyard. (You can purchase them at Amazon here.)I went online to search for the perfect thing to hang on it. I knew I’d be able to find it somewhere, because years before, my brother had caught some that were tossed from a Mardi Gras float in Mobile. After some searching, I found it, ordered it, and had it shipped to my friend.

When she received the package, she called me, laughing hysterically. I said, “Go hang them up! Hurry! I want Gladys Kravitz to see them the next time she looks over there! But you have to sit outside till you get her reaction.”

And she did. She walked outside, and on the clothesline, she hung up the most gigantic pair of red panties one could ever imagine…so big that no one could possibly wear them.

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She called me and said, “It’s done! Those panties look like a big ol’ butt-shaped flag flapping in the breeze!” And she waited. After an hour or so, she heard Gladys Kravitz walk out her back door. Mrs. Kravitz was talking on the phone as she wandered around her yard. My friend was sitting out of sight, but she called me as soon as she heard Mrs. Kravitz. After a few minutes, she knew Mrs. Kravitz had peeked over the fence, because she heard her say to whoever was on the other end of the phone line, “My word! You wouldn’t believe what’s hanging in my crazy neighbor’s yard!”

We laughed and laughed, even though my friend had to keep down the volume of her laughter. I remember her whispering, “I’m the crazy neighbor! I always wanted to be the crazy neighbor!” But Mrs. Kravitz had no idea those gigantic panties had been hung outside for her viewing pleasure. My friend eventually took down the panties, but she left them up long enough for Mrs. Kravitz to get angry about them. She knew she was angry, because she would hear her grumbling through the fence. Unfortunately, this was before every cell phone in America was a smart phone, so there is no photographic evidence.

When I saw Mary Ann’s post about how Facebook is like having nosy neighbors, I responded, “The key lies in giving them PLENTY to look at! You wanna peek over the fence? I’ll give you a reason to peek over the fence!”

But of course, I love Facebook. I don’t think of my Facebook friends as nosy neighbors. I love that they share their lives with me, and I love sharing mine too. After all, when I run into them, we don’t have to do the cocktail party chat. We can converse about real life…or at least the life we put on Facebook. And we can laugh about our nosy neighbors!

***If you have a nosy neighbor you’d like to shock, you can purchase Big Momma Panties at Amazon.com here.***

 

 

 

 

 

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