This is my oldest homegirl, Lauren. She can't stand the term, "homegirl". It is what it is. She will be a senior in high school next year. So, the mommy ride and being in any kind of control is almost over. Poor Kaitlin...to say I am proud of her is so lame, because I am so much more than proud of her. What do you say to a child who is worried because her "Trig" grade DROPPED to a 99? She always does the right thing...she's a better person than I am. As I type this, tears stream down my face. If she even read this blog, I would be in so much trouble for typing all of this but what I am about to share with you...well let's just say I would have to sleep with one eye open as long as she has a key to our house. I found this poem, she wrote for her Honors English III class and sheesh, she amazes me with everything she does.
I Am From
I am from Irish and French descent.
From a city that surely celebrates Lent;
a place where strangers are friends.
I am from the city where the rules are meant to bend.
I am from a tiny house and sharing a room.
From swimming all night and starring at the moon;
from an award winning lawn and garden
from talking back followed by, "I beg your pardon?".
I am from always do your best, nothing half-ass
and groggily waking up for Mass.
From always having a huge Thanksgiving.
I am from two parents who bust their butt to make a living.
I am from living two minutes away from my cousins,
from arguments with my sister by the dozens;
but realizing I love her more than my words describe.
I am from wishing I could once again be five.
I am from homemade food with a kick;
adding a little of that and a little of this.
From dinner is always a family affair
and praying before my meal with people who care.
I am from a town that was turned upside down
knick-knacks and prized possessions were drowned.
From a city where "victim" is an insult
and if you don't make the best of your situation, it's your own fault.
I am from the Big Easy
the city that tugs at my heart,
the city that always has a reason to celebrate.
I am from the best city in the world,
I am from New Orleans.
Wow..thank you for humoring me.
These cookies were the first thing EVER, I ever made, cooked, or baked. I was maybe around 9?
It's an old recipe from my River Roads book and sometimes, you just have to go back.
Who's with me?
1 cup shortening
1 cup brown sugar (light or dark)
1 cup granulated sugar
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
2 eggs, unbeaten
1-2/3 cup all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon soda
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
2 cups rolled oats (quick cooking oats work just fine)
1/2 cup raisins
Mix thoroughly the shortening, sugars, vanilla and eggs. Sift together the flour, soda, cinnamon, and nutmeg, and add to mixture. Fold in rolled oats and raisins. Drop by teaspoonfuls onto greased cookie sheet (siplat and parchment paper work, save the extra work and calories). Bake 10 to 12 minutes at 350 degrees F. Remove from oven, cool 3 minute son baking sheet before moving to a wire rack to cool for 10 more minutes. Makes about 4 dozen cookies.
These cookies can be your best friend or be there to share with a best friend. They can also just be there for you after you've finished a good cry.