Sunshine After Rain

Yesterday was a thick, muggy, blanket of a day. The kind of a day that only a person who has experienced a Southern summer can appreciate. And I find myself beginning to mutter words under my breath like, "sick of summer," and, "can't breathe in this heat," and, "if fall ever gets here."

So, we weren't surprised when the weather radio began to sound its alarm around nightfall, warning of severe thunderstorms and flash floods, swelling rivers and high winds.

It descended on us once all The Kiddos were calmly tucked in to bed and the dogs had buried their sleepy noses under their paws.

And descend it did. It rocked, it crashed, it exploded, it flashed, it drenched, it buffeted.

And this morning it is gone. And in its place is clear, fresh air and blue, blue skies with white, flossy clouds scudding across.

Drips falling from cherry tomatoes.




Water delightfully beading up on the deck The Sons and I just stained.

A magical mushroom pushing its way up.

And a million little crystal sparkles caught in the tangle of green morning grass.

And, excuse me, but was that just the slightest hint of a cool fall breeze I felt in the air?

Wait, wait.

Please, Fall, come when it's time, but I've still got kids in the pool and tomatoes ripening on the deck and sundresses and flip-flops in the closet.

Just kidding about the seasonal complaints! We're still soaking up the summer. Fall can wait!

Comforting and Fresh and Delicious . . . Oh, My!

I think it was because Oldest Daughter and I watched the finale of a cooking competition last night that yesterday I just couldn't cook the "usual" for dinner. No spaghetti, no tacos, no goulash. I just had the need to unleash my inner Top Chef . . . well, maybe not, but we can dream.

So, when I looked at Pioneer Woman's food blog entry and found Red Pepper Risotto, and my favorite chef at Publix handed me a plate of Lime Butter Tilapia to try, and I had garden-fresh tomatoes sitting on my counter, well it just all came together!

Don't you just love it when occasionally a meal comes together like that . . . all the planets line up and magically you just put together something dreamy.

And mmmmm, mmmmm, mmmmm, it was dreamy.

Comforting, fresh and delicious. Would that everything I serve at my sturdy oval dining table could be such!

Lime Butter Tilapia

1 1/2 lb tilapia (orange roughy or flounder) fillets (thawed, if needed)

3/4 teaspoon kosher salt, divided

1/2 teaspoon pepper, divided

5 tablespoons unsalted butter, divided

1 lime (for zest and juice, rinsed)

1 shallot (rinsed)

Using electric skillet, set temperature to 250 degrees. Season both sides of fish with 1/2 teaspoon of the salt and 1/4 teaspoon of the pepper.

Place 1 tablespoon of the butter into pan; swirl to coat. Add fish; cook 2 minutes on each side. (my favorite Publix chef told me this was long enough, and amazingly it was!! This fish was the softest and moistest I've ever had!)Cook time may vary depending on the thickness of the fish.

Meanwhile, cut remaining 4 tablespoons of the butter into small pieces; place in small bowl to soften. Peel several strips of lime peel, without any white pith, with zester (or vegetable peeler). Chop finely for zest (1 tablespoon); add to butter. Remove ends and peel from shallot; chop shallot finely and add to butter.

Stir remaining 1/4 teaspoon each of the salt and pepper into softened butter mixture until well blended; chill until ready to serve.

Squeeze juice of lime (1 tablespoon) over fish; remove fish from pan. Top fish with lime butter mixture and serve.

Recipe courtesy of Publix Apron's

Volleyball Season

(So sorry for the blurry pic. I mentioned many times during the game to the Man of the House that I could really have gotten some awesome pics if I had a digital SLR camera. He did not appear to be listening.)

Volleyball season is here! And with it comes hours on hard metal bleachers, stomach-churning matches, and long drives to locations all over North and South Carolina.

But I love this game! I love watching this game! I love watching Oldest Daughter play this game!

I love conversations that include words like "dig," "dink," and "dive." I love screaming my lungs out after a long rally that finally goes our team's way. I love the streak of pinky-red that crosses Oldest Daughter's cheeks when she's determined to win the point.

Yep, for the next 3 months you'll be able to recognize me by my stiff hip joints, hoarse voice, and the GPS clutched tightly in my right hand.

Go Hurricanes!

Please Silence Your Cell Phones . . .

"Please silence your cell phones!"

It runs across the screen at the movie theater, it's announced at meetings and written on signs in my doctor's office. And I always respond, a little self-righteously, "Who are these yahoos who need to be told to silence their cell phones in a place where quiet is called for?"

Which brings me to this past Sunday morning. My wonderful pastor was preaching. He had our total attention. He is so gifted in making God's Word real and relevant, and we were all on the edge of our seats . . . taking it all in as he brought his message to a close.

When all of a sudden a cell phone went off.

A cell phone in the 3rd row.

A cell phone set on medium high.

A cell phone with a ring that could only be described as a dance tune.

A cell phone in my purse.

da-da-da-da-da (cha-cha) da-da-da-da-da-da-da

I flopped wildly over in my seat to grab the phone in my purse and silence it, of course signaling to the entire church who the cell phone offender was. I could feel my family withering with humiliation on both sides of me.

But where was the phone? In truth, I can't find my phone in my cavern of a purse on a good day; why should I be able to find it in church . . . on the third row . . . in a scene of meditative quiet.

Mad digging in purse. Empty Orbit gum pack . . . no. Super Aqueous contact solution . . . no. Aloe-based sunscreen, Colgate toothpaste, reminder card from the children's dentist . . . no, no, no. Oh, something hard and cold . . . no, that's my digital camera.

Mercifully, cell phones only ring so long, and then with an exaggerated "twang" they quit, letting you know you have missed your call . . . and letting the entire congregation know they can now return to listening to the pastor.

The call was from a friend. A friend who forgot I was in church. A friend who wanted to know if I would attend an event with her. A friend with whom I will not be attending any events for the rest of my life. Just kidding . . . just kidding!

Bless his heart, the pastor soldiered on, totally ignoring the interruption, as we all learned to do in Speech 101. No one said anything to me about it after the service. In fact, come to think of it, no one even made eye contact.

So, in answer to the question, "Who are those yahoos who need to be told to silence their cell phones in a place where quiet is called for?"

I reply with freshly aquired humility, "Those yahoos are me."

Updo's, Braids, and Loops

Wouldn't you just love to have your own, personal hairdresser living right under your own roof, taking special "do" requests, making your hair look adorable every day?




Youngest Daughter lives in such lap of luxury. And blessed Oldest Daughter does her best to satisfy all hair desires of this child, as well as add some creative touches of her own.

Wanting the All-American-Girl-Next-Door look?


Then it's ponytails!

Needing a little elegance to go along with your brand, new summer sundress?

Introducing the elegant updo, featuring twists, flips, clips, and bows.

Wanting to add a little funky to your everyday ponytails?

Bring on loops!!

Just read Pippi Longstocking?

We're all about braids!

Can't decide what in the world to do with your hair today?

Leave it in the hands of the creative master, who comes up with the 3-in-1 triple braid.

I always knew I wanted a sister, and every day with these two reminds me exactly why!

Would You Like Paper or Plastic . . . or Cotton?

Time for a new knitting project. I think this will be fun and usable.

Don't you hate the guilt when you walk into Earth Fare or Whole Foods? The register monitors tell you:

Plastic bags will take 3,000 years to break down in our landfills.

It costs more to recycle and ship paper bags than it does to recycle plastic.

Plastic bags release toxins into the earth.

Ack! My solution is going to be soft and reusable and a beautiful golden yellow.

Here's the yarn:

And here's the pattern:

Source: http://www.purlbee.com/

I think this will be fun, and it will make me smile every single time I walk by those monitors!

Source: www.purlbee.com

Wherein I Learn to Make Tabbouleh at the Hands of a Master

Yolla is leaving for Lebanon at the end of this week. ::sniff:: But not without a parting gift to me. Yolla announced last week that she would be teaching me to make tabbouleh. Not asked if I wanted to learn, mind you. Announced. And I loved it!

I was given a list of ingredients to have ready:

(oops, this picture should have some olive oil in it too!)

And when Yolla arrived at 1:30 p.m. on the appointed day, everything was waiting in readiness. I felt rather like a school child waiting for a home visit from her teacher. And maybe that's because all her life Yolla has been a teacher and a school administrator. Those kinds of people do tend to make me try to stand a little straighter.

Yolla surveyed my kitchen as an artist would someone else's studio. A swift glance around, and she was ready to take charge. She looked over my waiting ingredients and pronounced them good. Solid B+. She pushed up her sleeves and got to work.

"You have washed the parsley?" (insert strong Middle Eastern accent when Yolla is speaking)

"Uh, no." Shoot. Down to a C-.

"You have washed the onions and tomatoes?"

"Uhhhh, no, coming right up." Things were going downhill.

"You have a lemon juicer?"

"Uh, well, no." How could I tell her my fresh lemon juice usually comes out of a very large green bottle.

"You don't have a lemon juicer? Then you will show me how you plan to juice the lemon."
(Hands on hips . . . waiting.)

Fortunately I remembered a random cooking show where they showed you how to juice a lemon by cutting the lemon in half, holding the blade of the knife up against the flesh of the lemon, and squeezing the lemon so the juice drips down the blade. I performed this, all the while trying to appear confident.

I think I saw Yolla give a slight sniff.

Now, down to the business of chopping of the tomatoes and green onions. I scrambled to record the measurements as Yolla worked.

Next up, the highlight of the tabbouleh, the parsley. This was the tricky part, Yolla explained. She took each stalk individually . . . each stalk of 2 full bunches of parsley . . . and laid them in bundles for chopping. And then with a very practiced hand and with my sharpest, largest knife (that has been known to trim off the ends of thumbs and fingers with regularity) whizzed through all that parsley . . . left hand moving quickly back away from the knife, right hand chasing the left, chopping away with the knife, tiny specks of deep green parsley left in its wake.

There is a reason I couldn't get a clear picture here. The hands were moving too fast.

Apparently the ability to finely chop parsley for tabbouleh was a prized skill back in Yolla's day. The finer the parsley, the more clever was said to be the girl. And, one can only imagine, more marriagable! Nowadays, we put a food processor on our wedding registry and call it a day.

Yolla had brought her bag of bulghur wheat and added it in, along with the spices, juice, and oil.

Then we stirred and got forks and tasted and tweaked and tasted. And oh, mmmmmmm, it was scrumptious!! We sat on the couch and I listened to stories of the Lebanese war and life in Beiruit. And I felt full body and soul.

Oh, delicious, delicious tabbouleh. My family won't touch you with a 10-foot pole, so you're mine . . . all mine!!

Don't tell Yolla, but after she left I ate half the recipe on Tostitos tortilla chips. Somehow I don't think she'd approve.

Yolla's Lebanese Tabbouleh

1/2 cup finely ground bulghur wheat

3 tablespoons of water

1 very large tomato or 2 medium tomatoes

6 large green onions or 8 small green onions

2 bunches of fresh parsley

1/2 teaspoon lemon zest

1/4 teaspoon pepper

3/4 teaspoon salt

1/4 cup fresh lemon juice (I won't tell if you use the bottle!)

1/4 cup olive oil.

Mix water and bulghur together in a large bowl. Chop tomatoes. Thinly slice green onions. Add to bulghur and stir well. Very finely chop 2 bunches parsley (not the stalks, just the leaves). Stir well again. Add remaining ingredients, stirring after each addition. Allow tabbouleh to sit for an hour so the bulghur can soak up the juices. Eat in romaine boats (Lebanese-style) or with tortilla chips or pita chips (American-style).