“Celebrate Spring” Tea Pot Giveaway
I was recently contacted by CSN stores to host a giveaway. CSN has over 200 online stores that carry everything from bedroom decor to tv stands to children’s toys and furniture! Check out all their stores here! They gave me a choice of items to giveaway. I fell in love with this little tea pot. In order to win it, leave a post on my blog about one of my posts, or just saying HEY. It would be great if you followed me, as well, or subscribed. The winner will be announced Wednesday, April...
Read MoreRenegade Vegetarian
One of the many ways in which I have failed my parents is becoming a vegetarian. Mom took it personally and my Dad still goads me by inviting me to dinner and having a ham. I am an adult and don’t see why my dietary choices seem to cause such a calamity when I visit. (Photo by SimplyBeka) Up until about 10 years ago, mom still tried to sneak meat into me any way that she could. The last time, I almost threw-up on her couch when I realized what I was eating. It was Christmas and she made my...
Read MoreOn Agreements, Cast Iron Skillets, and Fried Potatoes, Part 2
“What is the big deal about this?” My mom wanted to know about the cast-iron fried potatoes. She asks me that question a lot when it comes to food—and my writing. She doesn’t like me writing about her or her food. But as all good daughters and writers must, I write about what I want. “You just put the oil in, slice up the potatoes, and put them in the skillet. Voila,” she says. (Photo credit.) I had a cast-iron-skillet fried potato conversation a few years ago with my dad and I...
Read MoreOn Agreements, Cast Iron Skillets, and Fried Potatoes
Some kitchen queens invite the family in to share in the joy of cooking. My mom took the opposite tact, often shooing us “out from under her feet.” The stove was her personal domain. If she didn’t want her children messing about in the kitchen, she certainly didn’t want my dad at the stove. In my mother’s realm, men didn’t belong at the stove. And they still don’t. My mother and father rarely agreed on anything, but they agreed on this. They also agree that a cast iron skillet...
Read MoreAprons and Memories
Mom was twirling in the kitchen again. She stretched toward the blue painted refrigerator, which she opened with a flourish and pulled out a chunk of farm-fresh butter. The Vivaldi blared on the stereo in the next room, where the burnt-orange shag carpeting provided little sound barrier, neither did the matching burlap-like drapes. She tip-toed over to the counter in time to the music, mimicking my ballet moves and sending my Aunt Mart into hysterical laughter. Mom was all hips and thighs,...
Read MoreMy Flippin’, Twirlin’ Kitchen Queen Mama
My mother donned brown polyester pants and a gold smock to work as a hotel maid scrubbing floors and toilets. But when she stepped into her own kitchen, she wore a frilly apron, played Vivaldi on the stereo, and with a flip of her spatula and more than a pat or two of butter, became the queen of her realm. THE KITCHEN QUEEN OF FISH POT ROAD celebrates my memories of Mom’s Western Pennsylvania kitchen. She proved every day that living a good life has more to do with attitude than with...
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