I'da Called You CRAZY!

When the local meterologist begin predicting snow, you kind of know to take it with a grain of salt. Living in the south, we rarely get snow...even with a snow prediction. However, that being said, don't for a minute think that all the crazies don't come out and start stock piling bread and milk as if we are to be snowed in for weeks.
Tell me, my nothern friends, Does that happen in northern states?

If someone had told me we might get 3 inches of snow on Friday, I might've called em crazy. Well, I think I even did. But for once....I am the one with my foot in my foot and the other in the snow.






















The kids had a great time! They ate snow balls. They threw snowballs. The rolled snowballs.....

Even the pup's got into the act of trying to figure out the white stuff falling from the sky!






















And it was downright gorgeous to look at! A winter wonderland...here in the south. I would've called you crazy!























And had you told me that later today we would be expecting more winter weather. I would've called you crazy.
But I saw the parking lot at Publix Grocery last night. And that is where all the crazies were.

But the snow wasn't the only news worthy story.
Oh. No.
There was even bigger news going on...
HUGE NEWS.
*Photos in the next story have been edited. I have not asked permission to post photos of a certain party, thus the "edited" heart faced photos*
(allow me to pour myself a drink, although it is early morning hours...and I am not a drinking woman)

My Daughter.
Sister Sledge.
On the cusp of (*cough*cough) 12 years of age...
...went. on. her. first. date.

(Deep breath into a paper bag, followed by a big GULP)

And really.....had you told me this would happen at this age, I would've called you crazy!

C*R*A*Z*Y!!

But don't judge me just yet.

I mean, realistically speaking, Big Daddy and I had already decided that our daughter would not even think about having her first date until 16.
And then there is her Uncle Tony, "the artist" (who as of this post still does not know) to contend with, who would tell you she would have to be the respectable cougar age of 64 before going on a first date.
And that date would be chaperoned by her Uncle Tony on leave from the nursing home.



I would've called you crazy.
I would've laughed in your face.
I would've asked what planet you just landed on.
And I would've laughed at you some more.



And then it happened.

Love bloomed at a wrestling tournament a few weeks ago between Sister Sledge and another boy who wrestles on our team. He is the same age as my daughter.
And then, this past week, he called, and he told me his intentions of asking my daughter to the movies.
(Points. Very respectable. He is also very polite)
Still though, I heard my jaw hit the floor, somewhere though I managed to pick it up and follow by a barage of questions regarding details (chaperone's, movie choices, movie ratings, etc.) ...which he said would be worked out between his parents and myself and Big Daddy.



Had it been any other boy on the planet, Big Daddy might've balked and asked the kid to meet him in a dark alley.
But not this boy.
Big Daddy likes this boy. He coaches this boy. We know his parents.
We know they are not freaks. Or weirdo's.
And they obviously thought the same of us (little do they know *I kid*, for this is their "baby" too.
And so we did something we as parents thought we said we would never do.
We said ok.
And so it was, Sister Sledge went out on her first date on Saturday night (escorted by his mom).

















There was after movie drinks in the form of slushies at Sonic.

















And then the night ended with a hug.
Big Daddy is good with those reassuring "Well get through this" hugs.






















And if you had told me that I would've gone along with this a year ago. I would've called you crazy.

Look who's crazy now!

Hey Good Looking, What cha got Cookin'?

Peeeee-Pullllllll!

It was Ms. Berryhill's way of venting frustration at her Home Ecomics class.
"People" was her word to stress her level of exasperation. The more exasperated she was with her class, the more she would stretch out the word.Ms. Berryhill was MY home economics teacher when I was in the seventh and eighth grades. She was a lady who would looked like a combination of Mrs. Claus and the Pillsbury Dough boy. She was very old fashioned and looked like anyone's grandmother. She had white hair that glistened on her head. She was very maticulous and very scructured.

And me.....I was the worst sew-er in the class. Which is why I will visit you in blog land and be in awe of the creations you will whip up. I can sew a button, And that's about it.
The first asignment in home ec class was to sew a skirt. I picked a fluffy "prarie" skirt with many pieces as my first project. Just like I am today, I have wonderful thoughts and intentions, but the actual process ended up being more than I bargained for. Somehow, someway I eventually got through and finished my skirt. And even wore it to school without being sneekered at.

Then came assignment number 2. An apron. Which in comparision with my prarie skirt should have been a breeze. But alas, once again I wanted to get fancy and chose a pattern with ruffles and ridiculous stitching and bias cuts...things I cannot even recall now, but I do know it became impossible for me to complete.
So much so, that my entire class had completed their aprons and moved into the other classroom next door, the one with a kitchen. As I sat alone at my machine, listening to it hum, and stop. Stop and hum. I would become distracted by the smells of cookies baking next door.
Cookies I was missing.
Because I was sewing.
But the day finally came, when I could join the young chefs in the kitchen. And I can honestly tell you I am a MUCH better cook than I am a seamstress. MUCH better!

My daughter, Sister Sledge is now in her own Home Economics class.
Her teacher is not Mrs. Berryhill. Her teacher is Ms. Bailey. Sister Sledge really likes her.
She hasn't had to "sew for her supper".
She has started in the kitchen. And has throughly enjoyed learning new recipes.
So much, in fact that much to my surprise I awoke early Saturday morning to the smell of breakfast cooking.
I thought for a moment I was dreaming. And then I jumped out of bed, wondering if my house was burning down and met my daughter halfway down the hallway.
"Breakfast is ready. I made french toast and I am in the process of making homemade biscuits." Sister Sledge announced.
I looked back at her as if she were sleep walking.
And then I followed her back into the kitchen.
















Isn't her French Toast beautiful?
Izzz sooo proud!
Sister Sledge even thought outside the box and used colored sugar on her french toast for "visual appeal".
Here she is checking on her biscuits:















She ended up running out of time and couldn't roll her biscuits because we had to get to wrestling. So she made "drop biscuits".

I am really liking this.
I am keeping her on staff.
Because Peeeee-Pullllllll, I never thought anything wrong with having more than one chef in the kitchen.
I just hope she can make Homemade Lasagne!

(Sister Sledge will be sharing her recipes  for French Toast and Easy Homemade Biscuits later this week on Plates and Places)