rec·i·pe (rs-p)
n.
1. A set of directions with a list of ingredients for making or preparing something, especially food.
2. A formula for or means to a desired end: a recipe for success.
3. A medical prescription.
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Why, yes, that is my big brother. Season after season, still going strong. I’m thinking his PR people opted to use this photo because in the midst of the action, he’s just too freakin’ fast.
You know how I love the fall. I really do enjoy fall.
Labor Day has come and gone. School has started. September has effectively put the boots to summer, arriving with swollen clouds and breezes that make you think twice about sticking a cardigan into your bag.
Coever’s birthday was last Thursday and I thought that I would make a little treat for her classmates. I’m trying to sneak a little bit of healthy less sugary snacks into the mix. Instead of bringing in cupcakes, donut holes or popsicles (all of which were suggested by the teacher, incredibly), I opted for muffins. My first thought was banana nut muffins with some cream cheese frosting, but that might as well be a cupcake. Then I remembered the potential for nut allergies in the class.
What to do? What to do? I seemed to remember that I had another muffin mix of some kind tucked away in the pantry. So, I started digging and I found this:
Trader Joe’s Pumpkin Bread and Muffin Mix!
I suppose in a way that was a saving grace. When I flipped the box over to find out what the yield is supposed to be, I saw where it said “This product was made on equipment with milk, whey and treenuts.”
Great.
Well, the 19 muffins that did get made came out great. Craig and the girls will definitely attest to that.
Let me rewind for a second. When I thought about making the muffins in the first place, I did a mental recall to see if I had enough milk, butter, eggs, or whatever to get the job done. I was a few sticks short on butter, so I rolled over to the grocery store and what did I spy?
Shut the front door! Now, I don’t have to become a seasonal Starbucks junkie. Well, maybe just one every now and again. It’s not like I can put the Keurig in my car or something. I’m just sayin’. . .
Temperatures are dropping. Appearances of all things pumpkin are rising. How sweet it is.
Rain, rain, go away.
Come again another day.
I don’t have any cool Hunter boots to wear, I can’t find my raincoat, and my umbrella is pretty holey (and I don’t mean blessed by the Pope).
Oh yeah, she’s ready to go.
Some moms I know are going to be grappling with tears and nervous tummies (their own, not their kiddos’s) as they navigate carpool. Other moms will barely bring the car to a rolling stop before kicking Jr. out to the curb (“Tuck your head! Tuck your head!”). I’d like to think I’m going to fall somewhere in the middle of the two extremes. I’m looking forward to mornings of uninterrupted time to work, but I’m going to miss the random hugs and kisses the girls pepper me with as they skitter from one room to the next dressed up in all manner of frills and scarves. I’ll enjoy appreciate running errands where I only have to unbuckle myself and can use a basket, but I’ll miss the running dialogue that comes with two little imaginations at the helm of the race-car shopping cart. The begging for fruitsnacks, ice cream, popcorn, free samples from the deli department and of course, multiple trips to the bathroom? Not gonna miss that, but I digress.
I’d like to think I’ve provided both girls with a pretty awesome summer, one that they’ve thoroughly enjoyed and memories of which will last them well into the school year. I wouldn’t say that the first day of school snuck up on us — c’mon, we’ve been doing a countdown calendar since the last day of school — but it’s hard to believe it’s already here. My girls are growing up and I’m amazed at who they’ve become in such a short period of time. I mean, what did I think was going happen if I loved on them, nurtured them, encouraged them, and worked on making them thoughtful, independent, young ladies with strong character?
Two little ladies ready for anything, including the first day of school.
Hold on while I pat myself on the back (kidding, kidding). (no, I’m not). (no, I’m kidding).(sort of).
PS. If you have a chance, check out my friend Libby’s thoughts on sending her little boy off to kindergarten.
I don’t know who’s more excited, me or. . .no, it’s me.
It’s totally me.
I love back to school. I always have. I love a new packet of lined paper, new workbooks. I love a new Lisa Frank Trapper Keeper with a Sailor Moon spring-loaded pencil case and an Aladdin lunch box. Yes, I did have all of those things, and yes, I was a high school sophomore at the time. Ahhh, youth.
The past two weeks have been nothing but the express train to CrazyTown. As the summer drew to a close, we were inundated with back-to-back Back to School preparation. The girls will be going to different schools this year, which means, each school has had their own new family orientation, new student orientation, new school/new buddy program orientation, and all matters of activities to get us all oriented acclimated. There’s all this build-up and rah-rah leading up to the first day of school. The girls were literally crackling with excitement and anticipation. I was steadily crossing off calendar days until THE day.
Then Irene happened.
One downed tree and 5 days without power later: Morgan has missed her originally scheduled first day. She’s on summer vacation for another week. If I had a little sound bite of that trumpet triplet — you know, waa, waa, waa — I’d definitely insert it here. The silver lining here is more quality time with my first born before she is fully immersed in the rigors of first grade. Her enthusiasm, however, is beginning to deflate like a left-over birthday balloon. She’s gone as far as to remix the They Might Be Giants Song “I Never Go to Work” as “I Never Go to School”. Wonderful.
Coever, however, was washed, fed and out the door for her scheduled first day, September 1st.
6-8 Braeburn apples, peeled and sliced.
3/4 c sugar
2 tbs flour
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/8 tsp nutmeg
2 pie shells
Cool completely before slicing.
Serve with a scoop of vanilla ice cream,
or a dollop of Cool “huh-whip”,
or just eat it “nekkid”.
When he says, “It tastes so good, I thought I’d made it myself,” just smile and tell him you had a really good teacher.