This Is What Fall Is About
The Secret in The Citrus
My mom taught me to cook and bake as I grew up. I would help her tear bread for the stuffing at holidays. Cut apples for applesauce or pie. I’d stir the batter for the most delicious brownies.
All along the way I’d glean tips and tricks to what makes my Mom’s meals delicious. Little nuggets of information that have stuck with me into my marriage.
One of my favorite secrets happens to tie in with my favorite fall treat.
Apple Crisp.
My Mom’s secret lay in the citrus that you add. Instead of a tart lemon, she used orange. Now, before you go crying that the citrus isn’t necessary because you expect the apples to brown in this delicious dessert…of course you do. But, if you add a touch of orange as your citrus – it’s a sweet little kick that punches up the flavor. The way you put in that citrus is up to you. I favor orange juice concentrate (a couple of tablespoons), you could use orange juice – heck, my mom has been known to use Tang. Yes, TANG.
Try it – along with my other secret (vary the apples, I use up to 4-5 different kinds). I bet you won’t regret it.
Recipe: Apple Crisp
Summary: Recipe is for one pie sized dessert. Increase as needed for larger desserts (as I did in my example pictures)
Ingredients
- Filling:
- 6 apples – at least 1 granny smith
- 2Tbs White Sugar
- 2Tbs Brown Sugar
- 2Tbs Flour
- 1Tbs Orange Juice concentrate
- Topping:
- 1/2 Stick Butter
- 1/8 C Brown Sugar
- 1/4 C Flour
Instructions
- Peel & Core apples
- Slice – granny’s hold up better so slice them thinner, the other varieties slice thicker
- Mix with rest of filling ingredients and put into pie plate
- Using pastry cutter or fork, cut together topping ingredients
- Sprinkle topping over pie
- Bake 50-60 minutes at 350*
- Turn on broiler for 3-5 minutes until topping is crisp to your liking.
Preparation time: 20 minute(s)
Cooking time: 1 hour(s)
Number of servings (yield): 6
Most of the Time I’m Sure I Suck at This
Way back when this picture was taken I sure thought I was good at this. (Picture credit goes to my mom who had the fancy camera way back then…in FILM *Gasp*)
Back, 14 years ago, when Denver was only 2. When I only had the one. When my co-parent was my own parents. When the biggest problem I dealt with was chronic BM issues (yeah, he’ll kill me if he ever reads this). When he was cute and adorable and obedient and kind and polite.
When life was “easy”.
Now there are three.
There is school. Homework. Teachers. Doctors. Specialists. Special Medicines. Bills. Cleaning. THREE kids. Doctors. THREE kids. Quirks. Hospitals. Marriage. Home repairs. Car maintenance. Cleaning. THREE kids.
Oh, did I repeat myself once or twice? Yeah. I know.
I don’t want to use the term “bad mother”…because, you know…it’s such a debate trigger.
Sometimes, though. Sometimes I look at myself and I see that I’m not good at this.
I don’t have patience.
I don’t have answers.
I don’t do the things that you’re supposed to. I love to read to myself, but get bored reading to my kids (shameful, I know).
I don’t have patience.
I don’t check homework every day after school.
I always miss deadlines for snack week, permission slips, all those things.
I don’t have patience.
I don’t give my kids daily baths. Or every couple of days. (But in my defense, my baths were 1x/week)
I use the TV as a babysitter.
I’m online too much (I’m trying to do better…some days I do better than others).
I don’t have patience.
…..
Are we detecting a common theme?
Sometimes I wonder what part of my brain actually thought growing up that I would grow into this ‘perfect’ mom. I saw myself doing it all. Crafts, dinner, cleaning…the perfect little household.
My ‘perfect’ has redefined itself into something that feels far from perfect for me.
It’s a process.
I’m working on redefining myself as a mom.
To snap less. To breathe and have patience. To do more cleaning. More cooking. Making sure I’m more involved in what my kids are doing in school.
I want to feel like I’m good at being a mom. Like I DESERVE the title. EVERY day. Not just now & then.
Happy Meals for Happy Readers
On almost any day of the week you can find the members of this family with their noses buried in a book.
Sure, the teen took a really, really long time to come around, but once he did he was unstoppable.
The girls read well above their comprehension level just to get words on the page.
So when I heard McDonald’s was replacing toys with books in their Happy Meals? I was pretty stoked. My girls will love getting books, and I love that McDonald’s is taking this step.
Included in our Happy Meals are these fun titles that involve teaching children about eating right when sometimes it’s not so easy to do:
But they aren’t stopping there, which is even better. Want to know why?
McDonald’s of Central Indiana is leading a “Give a Book, Get a Book” campaign.
All around Indy, from November 1st through the 14th, at Ronald McDonald Houses, local libraries, and Indy Reads there will be Book Donation sites set up.
In exchange for a donation of a new (or gently used) children’s book, you’ll get a “Be Our Guest” card good for a free Happy Meal!
And to top it all off, participating libraries will host a “Happy Meal Day” filled with kid’s activities and McDonald’s Happy Meal books!!
Since 2011 McDonald’s has been finding new ways to take action and fulfill their “Commitments to Offer Improved Nutrition Choices”. Each of the stories in these unique, limited edition books, is a fun and nutritional message that kids can understand.
Now onto the part I know you’ve been waiting for. My Giveaway! One lucky winner will get a week’s worth of Happy Meal Coupons, a $10 Amazon Gift Card, and a copy of a Happy Meal Book!
To make it easier, I whipped up a rafflecopter this time. Good luck!
I was a Teenage Pageant Queen (or I Tried)
I honestly don’t know what got me started on it.
I wasn’t one of those little girls that grew up dreaming of being Miss America.
I wanted to be Wonder Woman.
Or Princess Leia (minus the kissing my brother part).
Or on Broadway would suit me fine.
All I know is that I ended up signing up for the Junior Miss Pageant (the ONE year they tried to ‘dignify’ it by calling it ‘Young Woman of the Year’). And in the same year I signed up for the Miss Indianapolis Teen pageant.
Two pageants, one year.
I didn’t win either of them.
I won secondary awards. Fitness, presence and composure, finalist talent, non-finalist talent. I made it to the finals of one, 4th place over all.
I have to say…
I had a crap-ton of fun doing them. I knew I’d never do another one, I didn’t care to. I’m so glad I had that experience.
From the pressure of performing at the top of my game and being quick on my feet to the answers. To the endless rehearsals for the silly little dances they had us do.
The camaraderie of the pageant brought me friends during my senior year I didn’t have the rest of school.
The general stand-offishness of everyone in the other pageant that led to me just glad it was over.
I learned a lot, and I gained a lot, and I look back on it with immense fondness.
And yes, I kept my plaques.
The First Tale of the Raccoon – The Happy Ending
I have two tales of raccoons…one with a happy ending, the other…well…I figured for the first day of NaBloPoMo I’d be nice and not ruin the month too early.
This first story happened not too long ago, right here at this house with that big fat sucker in the picture over there. <<—
That is my driveway that Mama Coon was perched on, right over the gulley and the pipe that runs under my driveway where she lived with her babies.
Where she would come out regularly and pull any tiny scrap of food out of one of our trash cans that we lost the lid to. Even if it meant strewing crap across three yards to do it.
To make matters better, her and her little brats started to chew and rip at our shingles as the weather turned colder. They wanted IN.
They would destroy our roof to do it.
So we, naïvely perhaps, called animal control.
After all, they were being destructive to property now, not just purely a nuisance.
The best advice he could give us was this…(it’s been a while, the words might not be exact):
“You have a big trash can? Good. Set a trap and catch the raccoon. Fill a good tall trash can with water and drop the trap in. They drown real fast, don’t worry. Once she’s dead, wrap her up in a big trash bag and throw her away. Get all three of them, or they’ll never leave.”
Erik and I stared at each other slack-jawed for a while. We thought about Denver, quite young at the time, and what he would think if he caught wind of what happened. Plus, really? That’s flat out cold murder. It’s not hunting (which I’m fine with) or euthanization of a sick pet (which hurts but is sometimes necessary). It’s flat out murder.
Not cool, dude.
In the end we opted for trap & release. We’re fortunate enough to live on the border between suburbia and rural. We borrowed three traps, got all three of those buggers caught and took them miles away and released them.
In some cases, the less humane option is vitally necessary (as the other coon story will show)…but not every single time.
~shudder~ Could you kill a coon for no reason when the trap and release option was just as easy?