Note To Self: Never Let Someone With A Pierced Nose Cut Your Hair

One of the few drawbacks to the lifestyle we have is that I usually have to find a new hair stylist every other time I get my hair cut. My step-daughter, Becky, cut my hair from the time she was in high school, and she did it very well. She owns a shop in the Atlanta area now. She is in such demand that it is hard for me to get an appointment with her when I am in town. I like to brag that she used to cut the hair of one of the ladies who was on the Weather Channel. If she could see what my hair looks like now, she would have a fit. Just like I did.

What I usually do when I need a haircut is to look at other people’s hair when I am in the grocery store, in a restaurant, where ever, and when I see a particularly good hair cut, I ask the woman who does her hair. Now, every woman knows that if someone asks her that question, she must look really good, so I have always gotten a “Why thank you for asking, I get it done at…” But since we are in a rural area, when I have asked that question for the last couple of weeks, it is always someone who cuts hair in her home for her friends and family only. (I guess that should have told me something about the beauty shops around here.)

Just a couple of days ago, I saw the most perfect haircut ever. The woman must have been about 65 years old, with snow-white hair. But the haircut was so modern, so trendy, so, well, just so good of a haircut. She was eating lunch with a friend of hers at a restaurant in town. So, of course, I asked her where she got her hair done. And, she proceeds to tell me it was her friend’s son, who used to work for Paul Mitchell, but he is retired from doing hair and only cuts hair for a few friends and family members now. Crap. I should have taken her picture, but I didn’t think about it until later. Much later. Too much later.

And so, since I was looking rather shaggy, and was in a real need of a haircut, I got out the phone book at the campground office and looked in the yellow pages. The first place I called could see me right away. That should have been a warning, but no, I went ahead with it. The girl who greeted me at the front desk had a nose ring. One nostril was pierced and adorned with the tiniest little stud nose ring, but still, a pierced nose.

She took me back to her lair immediately and asked me how I wanted my hair cut. I told her I usually get it cut short, with bangs, over my ears, and straight across in the back. This is what I have told every hair stylist I have ever been to, and they have managed to cut my hair in a close semblance of how Becky used to cut my hair. So she starts to cut. And she cuts, and cuts some more. When she was done, this is how it looked:

It looks like she actually cut a hole in my hair here. This looks like the picture in the Hair Club For Men commercial.

I am not a person who likes to spend a lot of time on my hair. I usually wash, blow dry, and go. I have never used any styling products. Just shampoo and conditioner, never anything else. And I have not cried about the way my hair looked since the last time my mother put a Tony Home Perm in it when I was about 12 years old. But, when I went home this time, my hair was a disaster. Jim said I needed to get a hat. Thanks a lot, big guy, that really makes me feel better.

So, today when we went to Wal-Mart, I stopped in at the hair shop there. I told the girls working there that I had gotten this hair cut yesterday, and it looks really bad to me and what could they suggest. They told me I needed something to make it “stand up”, to give it some body. So, they sold me some Molding Glue. For hair. Mess It Up Styler. Ummm, it was already messed up.

They showed me how to use it, just a dab and run my fingers through it just so, and voila! It does look a little better, so I bought the stuff. $11.00 for a little jar of it. It should last a very long time, with as little hair as I have. So, this is what it looks like now:

Note to self: Never let someone with a pierced nose cut your hair.

Giving The Term "A Father's Day Bash" A Whole New Meaning...

We were expecting it to be busy, but somehow I did not expect it to be as busy as it was. Yes, we had lots of families camping together in celebration of Father’s Day. They came out in all the usual modes of camping, from tents to 40-foot motor homes. All of them wanted the same thing—a couple of days rest and relaxation at the campground, fishing, roasting marshmallows, enjoying a campfire, and enjoying the family.

So, on Friday night, as usual, we were covered up with people checking in. We had more than 160 check-ins for the day, about 120 of them between 4 p.m. and 10 p.m. Everything went pretty good until the boyz showed up. This was a really haggard looking bunch of about 5 guys who wanted to rent a tent site. Now, I am not against groups of people camping in tents, but the management here has a rule that there must be at least one person per site who is 25 years old, and we have to card them to make sure they are.

Another rule that the management has is that there are no overnight “guests” on a tent site. The tent sites can have a maximum of 2 adults per site. If there are more than 2 adults, they have to rent another site. If you have a so-called guest, that person must pay the tent rate to stay, because there is one tent per site. I really do understand what the management is trying to accomplish by doing this, and that is to cut down on the number of teen beer parties on Friday and Saturday nights.

So, as the Night Shift Supervisor, I have the most pleasant task of informing the teeny boppers that they cannot stay at this campground when they arrive to get a tent site for the night. Now, try to imagine this guy, covered with tattoos, bandana on his head, baggy shorts drooping down over his butt crack, saying, “Well, my mama is camping here and I’ll just go get her to rent the site.” And I say, “Is she going to stay on that site with you all night?” And he says, “No, she is just going to rent it.” So I say, “No, you can’t do that. What you can do is pay for camping and put a tent on her campsite.” They didn’t want to do that, so they finally left. And I get on with the rest of my job.

The rest of Friday night went by in a flash, with no other out of the ordinary occurrences. On Saturday, I had about 30 more check-ins, and loads of people with loads of money buying stuff in the store. It was a constant stream of people, which made the day go by fast. We had a retail clerk at the candy counter until 6 p.m. After she went home, there were two of us left to handle the crowd.

My co-worker was 15 years old, not old enough to sell cigarettes in the state of Pennsylvania. So, no matter whatever else I was doing, I had to stop and ring up cigarettes for our customers. Not such a hard thing, except that as the Night Shift Supervisor, I have other duties I must complete before I go home for the night, such as counting the cash drawers from the snack bar and the mini golf shack; doing the sales reports from those two places; calling people who have made reservations and who have not paid their deposits after 7 days to request payment of the deposit; filing a large stack of paperwork that was given to me with a note that said “Do Not Delegate”; and about 10 other miscellaneous tasks. I felt like I was up to my neck in alligators that night.

About 3:30 p.m., a guy comes in and want to register as a guest of his friend. I asked him his friends last name, and he did not know it. I asked if he had his friends telephone number, and he did not know that either. So I asked if he knew what site his friend was camping on. He did not know. But, if I would let him in he could just drive around and find him. I asked if his friend was camping in a tent. He said yes. So, I told the guy he would have to pay for a tent site, he could not camp as a guest on a tent site. He did not want to do that, and again asked me to let him just drive around and find his friend. I told him again that we do not allow that. He left.

So about 5 minutes later, he came in again, and went to my co-workers register. He started saying the same things to her. Since I am the Night Shift Supervisor, I asked the customer I was assisting if he could wait just a moment, and stepped over to where Tammy was working. I told this man again that he would have to pay for a tent site to get into the campground. He said, well, can I just go in and pick out a site before I pay? I said, NO, YOU CAN NOT. We will register you and assign you a site, and if you don’t like it, you can move to any other tent site that is available, but you have to pay FIRST. He finally agreed to pay, and I returned to my customer. But, I heard him saying to my 15 year old co-worker “That woman is such a bitch!” I started to call one of them maintenance workers and have him escorted out of the park, but I didn’t. If that happens again, I will do that.

Then, at about 9:30 p.m., a man came into the store and told me there was a domestic dispute going on at that group tenting area. He said that a guy had his wife on the ground, punching her and kicking her, and that some other guys who were camping nearby came to her rescue, and a big free for all ensued. So, I called the campground owner on the radio and told him he had “an incident that needed attention”. He went down there, and called me on the radio, and told me to call 911. So, I had a radio to the boss in one hand, the telephone with the police in the other hand, trying to get the cops out here to apprehend the jerk, when a woman who wanted to buy cigarettes comes up and is indignant because she can not pay for her cigarettes!!! Give me a break, lady.

So, the police arrive and go up to where the altercation is “in progress”. My husband had to go up there too to lead the police to the scene. He said that when the police arrived, someone pointed and yelled, there he goes right now. He was in a truck trying to flee the area. The police cut him off, and he jumped out of the truck and started running. Jim said it was just like on COPS on TV.

In the meantime, the woman came into the store. She had a baby about 6 months old, another one about 18 months old, and a 3 year old. She and all her children were crying, I had about 25 customers in the store trying to get checked out, and one co-worker trying to get it all done, as I was still on the phone with the 911 operator. I asked the guy on the phone if she needed to go back up to the scene, and he said if she wanted to press charges, she need to go back up there.

So, I told her that, and she started screaming that she didn’t want to go up there because he was still there. I got off the phone then, and told the girl that she either had to go back up to the scene to press charges or she would have to go outside and sit on the bench out there, but she could not stay in the store. Yes, I really felt sorry for her, but I had other work to do. If she didn’t want to go through with pressing charges against the jerk, there was nothing I could do for her.

I finally got her out of the store, and sold all those dang cigarettes. Why is it that I feel bad that I couldn’t help her? I had nothing to offer her in the store. Should there have been something else I could have done? It took us longer than usual to get the store closed, cleaned, the money counted, lock up and go home. I was glad to get there. I still had Sunday to go.

On Sunday, I arrived to find out I was scheduled to work by myself from 4 p.m. until 8 p.m. I was so thrilled to learn that. What a good time I had. I still had the no deposits report, the check-ins for the coming week to check for accuracy, the confirmations batch to run, retail sales, the phones ringing off the hook, the little kids wanting to redeem their tickets from the arcade games for the little junky prizes, email reservation requests to handle, etc., etc., etc. And after the store closed at 8 p.m., I still had to sweep and mop the store, stock the bottled water in the cooler, straighten all the shelves, empty the trash cans, count all the cash drawers, do the cash report…It took me an hour to get it all done. When I got home I felt like I had run a marathon. Tell me again why I like this job?

On Monday night, Jim and I and our co-worker, Linda, had our own little Mexican fiesta. I made black bean and shrimp nachos. She made a delicious dessert that started out with gluten free tortillas. Spread with a cream cheese filling, top with fresh fruit. OMG!!! Yummy was the word for that. Oh, did I mention the margaritas? Yep, and I had three! I had forgotten how good a margarita could make you feel. I couldn't feel my legs for about an hour or so. Linda was the one who went to the liquor store for the tequila. I have always bought Jose Cuervo tequila, but never again. She got Herra-Durra brand, and I have to say, that was the BEST tequila I have ever had. It would be dangerous for me to have a bottle of it in the house. ¡Vivo la vida loca!

A New Yummy Gluten Free Pizza Recipe

I have been tryng out different pizza dough recipes for a couple weeks now, trying to find one Jim and I can both eat and like. Here is the one I tried today. It was really good, so good that Jim was bragging to the people we work with that I made a de-lish-ous homemade pizza for lunch. He said it is a keeper recipe.

For the crust:

1 packet rapid rise dry yeast
3/4 cup warm water
2 tsp. Brown sugar
2/3 cup white rice flour
½ cup tapioca flour
2 tsp. Xanthan gum
½ tsp. Salt
½ tsp. Baking soda
½ tsp baking powder
2 tsp olive oil
1 tsp cider vinegar

Add the yeast and brown sugar to the water, and stir to disolve the yeast. Set aside. Measure all the dry ingredients and put in a medium size bowl. Add olive oil, vinegar, and yeast water. Stir with a fork until a ball forms. The dough will be soft. Cover with plastic wrap and let rise until about double in size. Stir down the dough. Line a cookie sheet with aluminum foil. Spray foil with olive oil. Spread dough with the back of spoon til very thin, making sure you close up any tears or holes in the dough.

For the topping:

1 jar of Classico Pesto sauce, or homemade pesto sauce
black olives
2 or 3 fresh tomatoes, sliced
pepperoni or cooked Italian sausage
1 cup shredded mozzeralla cheese

Spread the pesto on the pizza dough. Add Italian sausage or pepperoni on top of the pesto. Slice tomatoes very thin, and add on top of the meat. Slice the black olives on top of tomatoes. Sprinkle cheese over all. Bake at 425 degrees for 15 minutes. Let the pizza rest for abut 5 minutes before slicing.

This was very good. The bottom of the crust was a nice golden brown, and the whole crust was crispy and chewy, just the way I like pizza dough. I am going to try this again next week , but use the dough to make some bread sticks. I will let you all know how it turns out.

Night Shift Supervisor

As summer gets closer, and school gets out around the country, more and more people are coming to Gettysburg, and to the campground. I am beginning to feel more like a resident of Gettysburg than a visitor. I can tell our guests where to find a good restaurant and give them directions how to get there. I can tell them how to get to the campground from the major highways, and I can tell them where they can go to see a movie. Jim thinks this is funny, because he thinks I am bad at giving directions, even though we have only gotten lost once in 15 years with me reading the maps.

If anyone out there wonders what it is really like to be a Night Shift Supervisor at a campground, here are a few things that went on at my job over the last week:

A little girl was bitten by a dog. She was with her parents at the shuffleboard court when the owner of the dog came up. All the adults chatted for a minute about the dog, which was a very nice dog. While the adults were chatting, the child was petting the dog. All of a sudden, the dog snapped at her, resulting in a gash on her face that required 12 stitches. Now the different part is that the father was calm, cool, collected. He did not yell and scream at the owner of the dog. He told me later that things happen, he just wished that it had not happened to his little girl. I thought that was amazing, how calm he could be about the whole thing. Most people would be talking about lawyers and suing and such. He just said, “I was standing right there and could not have prevented it myself.”

The second thing that happened was that an older man came in, registered, and drove his motorhome to the site. He came back all huffy and mad as a hornet because our rock on the site had damaged his motorhome. He was demanding to speak to the manger, and guess who was the senior management person on duty? Me, the Night Shift Supervisor. So, while I was thinking to myself that HE was the one driving the thing, I asked him what I could do for him. He said he wanted to be compensated for his loss. I told him that I could not do anything like that and that he would need to speak to the owner, who was not on the property at the moment. Finally got him calmed down and out of the office. Whew! It is at times like that that I do not like being a supervisor.

Next in was a lady (and I use that term loosely) who was shopping in the store with her four year old child. I watched and listened (I was FORCED to listen as she was screaming at the child the whole time) as they walked through the store. The kid was holding two candy bars and a sucker in one hand, and a Kool-Aid drink in a plastic bottle in the other hand. He had the unopened drink in his mouth, chewing on the top of it. The mother was saying, “You need to decide it you want the candy or the drink, hurry up, make a decision, we have to go, decide!” I was thinking to myself, a four year old doesn’t even know what “decide” means! So, I said to her, “You will have to buy the drink because he has had it in his mouth already.” She looked at ME like I was crazy, and said “I KNOW THAT!” and I am thinking, then why are you making this kid think he has a choice about it? She wound buying all that sweet sugary stuff for him. Well, she is the one who has to live with the kid.

A while later, four teenage boys came in to register. They had made a reservation for two campsites next to each other, for a total of 8 people. When I told them the total due they wanted to argue about the amount, because our published rates are $175 for a week. I explained that it is $175 plus 10% tax for two people, and $8 plus 10% tax for each additional person per site. So, for a week on each site, with 4 people per site, that came to $315.70 per site for the week. The boy who had made the reservation claimed he was not told about the extra charges for the additional people, and therefore he should not have to pay it. I asked him how he found out about the campground. He said he saw the webpage on the internet. I told him our rates are published on the internet, and they state the charges for extra people and tax. They were not very happy, and even came back later and wanted a refund of a couple hundred dollars, because they did not think “it was fair for them to be charged when they did not know about it”. What? NO, I did not refund any money to them.

The next day, the four girls arrived. While one of my co-workers was checking them in, I overheard a converstion the girls were having amongst themselves:

1^st girl “Why didn’t we just come up with the guys yesterday?”
2^nd girl “Because Joe did’nt want me to ride up here with him.”

Excuse me, he wants you to sleep with his little teenage self in a tent for six nights, but he does not want you to ride to the campground with him in the same car? And you went for it? Where is your pride, girl? Oh, yeah, that stuff is none of my business.

So, on Monday night, all the work campers met at Linda’s site and shared some gluten-free pasta salad, some cheese, and some wine. Lots of wine.

FabGrandpa's Socks

I don’t know what it is with men and their socks. Jim always seems to be needing more socks, more often than I do at least. He says they lose their “springyness” and when they do, he does not like to wear them anymore. This is long before they look worn out to me, but because I love him so, I get him some more socks whenever he starts talking about the lack of spring, WHATEVER that means.

While we were at the sock store, better known as Target, I also got some socks for our new little man, who we are calling “Owen” for the time being, until his parents name him something else. Those cute little socks were just irresistable, almost as cute as I imagine the baby himself to be.

Jim is very excited about this new baby. The child has no blood relation to Jim at all, but the prospect of being “Poppa” is appealing to him. He loves all three of “our” grandchildren as much as I do. I would say “maybe more”, but I don’t see how that is possible. He loves to spend time with Spencer, Michael, and Sarah, and absolutely loves his role of grandfather. He is the FabGrandpa, no matter what anyone else thinks.

This is one of my favorite pictures of all time, Poppa with Michael, 1997.

Poppa with Spencer in 2002.

With Sarah at the 4-D Theater at Stone Mountain Dec 23, 2005. He loves his grandsons, but this little lady has stolen his heart!

A Crabby Happy Birthday

THE BIRTHDAY GIRLS

THE BIRTHDAY DINNER

My birthday was last week. I turned 55. I used to think that anyone who was 55 was over the hill, old as dirt, on their last leg. Well, I have changed my opinion of that now that I am there. I am enjoying my life, more than at any other time I have lived it.

My friend, Lynn, also had a birthday last week. So, Jim and I, our friends Lynn and Charlie, their friends Sandy and Phil, and our new friend Linda all went out to a neat little restaurant in Fairfield, Pennsylvania for dinner in celebration of the event.

Dave and Jane’s Crab Shack is a pleasant little surprise. It is located at 2989 Tract Road in Fairfield. Fairfield is about 10 miles west of Gettysburg, and about 2 miles north of the Maryland state line. It is nowhere near an ocean, or any body of water for that matter. But, they have the best seafood I have eaten in a long time.

As their name implies, they serve steamed crabs by the dozens. Even on a Wednesday night, we had to have reservations to get in the door. I was surprised at just how many people were there because it is out in the country.

They have an ALL YOU CAN EAT menu, as well as regular entrees. The AYCE specials are Steamed Crabs (In Season) for $29.95, Alaskan Crab Clusters for $29.95, Steamed Shrimp for $28.95, and an AYCE Trio for $31.95. If I had been with other people who love to eat steamed crabs as much as I do, I would have opted for the AYCE steamed crabs, but I did not because I would have been the only one, and the rest of the gang would have to have waited for me to finish. (Believe me when I say I can eat some crabs!)

So, instead, I ordered the Seafood Lovers Platter. For $22.95, I had 1 dozen steamed clams, 1 lb. of crab clusters, a half pound of steamed shrimp, a cup of cream of crab soup, and a tossed salad. I thought they would never stop bringing out my food! And talk about delish! It was soooo yummy! I also ordered a basket of 3 steamed crabs. I wound up bringing part of my dinner home with me, and that was after sharing with others at the table.

Jim ordered a Combination Seafood Platter. His included broiled shrimp, a crab cake, a broiled fish filet, broiled scallops, and fried oysters. There was more than he could eat, too, and we brought some of his home. The price for that platter was $18.95.

We really enjoyed our dinner party at Dave and Jane’s Crab Shack. If you are ever in the Gettysburg area, I think it is a “must go” place. To get there, take US 15 south from Gettysburg to Maryland 140 in Emmetsburg, Maryland. Turn west on 140 and drive about all the way through Emmetsburg. On the other side of town, you will see a large billboard on the right, at Tract Road. Turn right onto Tract Road and drive about 2 miles or so. Dave and Jane’s will be on the left. Call ahead to make reservations and to make sure they are open. 717 642-5025. You will be very glad you did. OH, they also sell crabs by the dozen to go. And they have a landlubbers menu, including steaks, chicken, sandwiches, and pizza. Prices start at $3.00 for a burger.

Fab Home Made Soap

As I mentioned in my profile, I have been making my own soap for more than 10 years. Jim and I have not bought a bar of soap in all that time. We were down to our last bar, so last week I made two batches.

I use palm kernel oil, almond oil, grapeseed oil, castor oil, and olive oil in my soap. In one batch I used peppermint and lavender essential oils for the scent. In the other batch, I used rosemary, peppermint, and eucalyptus essential oils. The Rosemary blend one is Jim’s favorite, so I make it every time I make a batch of soap.

In the picture above, the greenish soap is the lavender mint; the other one is the rosemary-mint-eucalyptus. My sad piggy bank from Mexico is watching over the bars.

I have some pretty molds that I use sometimes, but this time I was in a hurry, so I just used the loaf mold that one of my friends made for me. I gave him a bath size bar of Ivory soap and told him to make me a loaf mold that would make the finished soap that size. It is made out of pine wood, and has a divider in it so that I can make two different scents at the same time if I want to. I line it with a plastic trash bag so I can lift the loaf out when it is ready to cut. The picture below is my of my wooden loaf mold.

Ebay Snatchers

I can't really express how I am feeling right now. Maybe the best way to put it is: ARRRGGGGHHHH!!!!! I received an email from Ebay, saying that someone had been using my account unauthorized. The email was addresed to my ebay username, with the wrong name attached to it.

I was not actually selling anything right now, and had no plans to sell anything in the near future, but I have had that ebay account for more than 8 years. I was MY account. MINE! How dare someone just waltz in and complicate my life just like that!

I did as instructed and went to the ebay website and tried to log in, and was refused entry to the site. I had to answer my "security questions", and failed the test, even though the questions were such things as "What is your telephone number?" and "What is your date of birth?" Now, I know I am a grandmotherly type of person, but I do not have senility to the point of not knowing my birthday or telephone number, neither of which has changed in years.

My question is, how did this ebay snatching floosy get into my account? How could such a thing happen? And if they can get into my lowly ebay account so easily, do I now have to worry about my online banking, my email account, my BLOG??? Please, don't let anyone take over my blog!! I can live with someone stealing my "mostly" plus ratings on ebay, but if they took over my blog, which is my "real" identity online, I would be devastated. My reputation could be ruined with just one post.

So, I spent most of the day changing my passwords everywhere I could think of to change them. I just hope I can remember them tomorrow.

Workcamping On The Holiday Weekend

My weekend started on Thursday, which is actually my "Monday", because I work in a campground. We had forty checkins on Thursday, which was a slow pace, but the phone rang off the hook with people calling to either verify their reservations or to ask if we had camping spaces available for the weekend. We have been completely booked for this weekend since February. Get your reservations in EARLY if you want to camp on Memorial Day Weekend next year. And when you do make reservations, write down your confirmation number, and the name of the campground where you made them. You would not believe how many people called to ask if we had a reservation for them because they "could not remember if they reserved here or at the other campground in town".

On Friday, my shift started at 2:00 p.m. At the end of the day we had checked in more than 250 campers. Most of the day we did not even try to answer the phone, which was STILL ringing off the hook. On the few times that we did have a second to answer the phone, the question of the day was for directions to the campground. Now, people, why do you wait until the very last minute to figure out how to get where you are going? Did you not look to see where it was before you made your reservation? Do you not know how to google a map? OH, and we still had people wanting to make reservations for the weekend. On Friday. I finally got to clock out and go home at midnight.

By Saturday, everyone who was coming to camp was here, but all their friends started coming in to "visit". So they walk up to the counter and say they need a car pass so they can go in to visit. When they are told there will be a day visitor's fee, they are universally shocked by it. Then they don't know how to spell their friends last name, or better yet, don't even know it, but if I would give them a car pass they can go in and find them. You would be surprized how many people think I am supposed to just let them in to use the campground faciltiies without a charge because they are not staying overnight.

Then we have the loverly children who are camping with us. Little children who can't count money come in to the store, alone, with a fifty dollar bill to buy some candy. They can barely be seen over the counter, they are so small. I wonder sometimes if the parents even know they have that money. Then there was the brother and sister, who looked like they were about eleven and twelve years old. She was waiting in line to pay for something at the front desk. He was standing right beside her, yelling at her at the tops of his lungs, "Come on, Mom says we have to go, NOW!" The whole time he is yelling at her, he is hitting her, on the arm, on the back, on the head. I finally told him he could not fight in the store. He just looked at me like I was from the moon.

Oh, yeah, then there was the little band of teeny bopper girls, who prissed in and proceeded to tell me how "asinine" it was to have the dance indoors instead of outside by the pool, where more people could "just listen to the concert". What? Concert? It was a DJ playing oldies music. I should have asked them if they could spell asinine.

The last one was a little girl about four year old and her brother who looked about five years old. She was laying on the floor by the toys, whining and kicking her feet. He was standing over her, with a toy in his hands, saying, "I can have this, but I don't have enough money for you to get anything." They had strewn toys all over the floor. I went over and started picking them up and putting them back on the shelf, and said to her, "Honey, you can't lay on the floor in here. If you are tired, you have to go back to your camper." She stopped her little fit and sat up, looked at me like I was the crazy one. Then she got up and went outside. Oh, I just LOVE working at the campground.

Gluten Free Bruschetta

Isn’t it strange what we start to crave when we know we can’t have it? The latest thing I have been about to die for is Bruchetta. You know, the classic Italian dish that starts out with Italian bread, toasted and buttered, then spread with a combination of chopped tomatoes, fresh mozzarella cheese, and basil? So, that was my cooking project for today. I took the pizza dough recipe from Meesh’s blog, cooked it without any pizza toppings on it. Then I put on my bruschetta salad, and Oh My God! Was it ever good.

Here is the recipe for the topping:

6 small ripe tomatoes, chopped
12 small “balls” of fresh mozzarella cheese, cut up
several sprigs of fresh basil, chopped
¼ to ½ cup olive oil
salt and pepper to taste

Mix all the ingredients in a bowl, cover, and refrigerate for at least 2 hours, preferably overnight, if you can control yourself. Spread over cooked pizza crust that has been cut into bread sticks.

YUM! This stuff makes a complete meal for me when I have a tossed green salad with it.

The Gettysburg Bluegrass Festival

The Gettysburg Bluegrass Festival was held this weekend at the campground where I work. The music didn’t start until Thursday, but the diehard fans started arriving last weekend. They lined up at 3:00 p.m. last Sunday to put their chairs out in front of the stage, and the motorhomes, fifth wheels, travel trailer, pop-ups, tents, and whatever else they could find to camp in kept rolling in to the park until late on Friday night. I am the one in the window in the picture above.

There were lots of bluegrass acts, with music from 11:00 a.m til well after 11:00 p.m on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday and from 11:00 a.m. until 4:00 p.m. on Sunday. As I am not really a bluegrass fan, I had not heard of any of the bands before this weekend. But, I heard two tonight while I was working in the “Festival Money Booth” that I thought were really good. The first one was Cherryholmes, a family band that has won Entertainer of the Year. The second was was called Seldom Scene.

While I don’t see myself becoming a bluegrass fan on the same level as those folks who turned out for our festival, I would probably buy a CD recorded by these two bands. The Cherryholmes family was very talented. Their act included singing, dancing, and yodeling as well as picking those instruments. The guys from Seldom Scene were good performers as well, and made it worth watching as well as listening to.

I’ll be glad when the last act has performed, and the show is over, as I am tired and ready for a day off, but it has been fun working here while it is going on. The next one is August 23-26, 2007. I will be here for that one, too. So, if you decide to come to it, look me up. I’ll be here then, too.

For those of you who are like me, gluten intolerant, don’t expect much in the way of food that you can eat. Like most other festivals, there are several food vendors and a snack bar on the property. A couple of things I found that I was able to eat were stuffed cabbage rolls from The Polish Guy, some french fries from Bricker’s Frys (without the vinegar), and a BLT salad from the snack bar. The BLT salad is not on the menu, but a BLT sandwich is. I asked them to put the guts from a BLT sandwich in a bowl for me, and they were happy to help me in that way. It was quite good as a salad. Oh, and those golumpkis were delish!

Making Meals Ahead, This Week's Menu

Last weeks experiment with cooking several meals at a time was a huge success. So much so that I did it again this morning.

Today’s menu was ham, baked sweet potatoes, boiled eggs, gluten free spaghetti, rice, and green beans. I cut the ham in half, and cooked half of it. I sliced half of that, and put it in a zip lock bag for sandwiches. I used the rest of the cooked ham for a homemade ham salad. The uncooked half of the ham will be used for cooking some beans tomorrow, for a macaroni and cheese with ham dish that I make (gluten free elbows of course) and for sandwiches and omelettes later in the week. I will probably use the sweet potatoes to make a casserole tomorrow. Here is my recipe for Ham Salad:

3 cups ground cooked ham
2 boiled eggs
1/3 cup sweet pickel relish
2 tablespoons mustard
1 onion, chopped
½ cup mayonaise

Mix all ingredients well. Serve wth crackers, chips, or celery sticks, or as sandwiches.

It takes a lot of work for a couple of hours one morning a week, but it sure does make my life easier during the week. Althought it takes us all week to eat a ham, and it means that we eat it every day that week, we do love ham. It is also very versatile, and easy to cook, and easy to make a gluten free diet work with it. But, next week we’ll have chicken.

Hadassah House Ministries

My niece Stacie is a truly wonderful young woman. She, along with her husband John, have a created a ministry to girls and women called Hadassah House. The vision of Hadassah House was given to Stacie in order to reach out to females of all ages, to let them know that through faith girls can recognize they are chosen by God, called for a specific purpose, and equipped to complete that purpose.

Perhaps Stacie’s screen name on MySpace says it best, “Complete, Lacking Nothing”. When I saw that, I was really surprised. I have known people who feel that way about themselves, but I have never seen anyone choose a screen name to let the world know it. I was even more surprised when I read her blurb about herself. She told a story of struggling with fear, insecurity, low self-esteem, and rejection as she was growing up.

She said she was an extremely shy and timid child, and had very few friends. I knew she was shy around me, but since she lived hundreds of miles away and we saw each other only two or three times a year, I just attributed that to her being a child amongst adults she barely knew. But, I could just not believe it when I read that she had always considered herself to be ugly and friendless. I always thought she was a very beautiful girl and well liked by everyone, not just us, her family. I am happy for her now that she can call herself “Complete, Lacking Nothing”. I feel that way about myself, too.

On the Hadassah House Ministry website, Stacie writes in her testimony “I no longer deal with the rejection, insecurity, and intimidation that haunted me for the first 29 years of my life. God has completely delivered me from low self-esteem, and I am confident of who I am in Christ. I know that He loves me, and He has called me for a specific purpose, and He will "Complete" that purpose in me!

Part of that purpose is to help girls, teens, and women realize that they, too, are special to God. He has a special name for them -- just like He does for me, and He wants them to see themselves the way He sees them. It is my desire to see girls learn who they are in Christ at an early age so they will not walk in the intimidation and insecurity that I walked in for so long. I want to see teen girls build strong relationships with Jesus so they will not be moved by what the world around them has to say about them, but they will serve Him with all their hearts, that He may complete His purpose in them, and raise them up to be leaders in their generation. Finally, I long to see women become everything God has called them to be. No longer will they be pushed around by the lies the enemy tells them, but they can stand firm knowing God created them with special gifts and talents for the body of Christ, and He has equipped them with everything they need to fulfill their purpose.”

I am excited about Hadassah House Minsitries and what they have to offer to girls and women. But, like any other new venture, they are still struggling to fund their mission. They have several specific needs, from prayer to a building or office, to sponsorship of girls who are not able to pay for materials for the program. If you would like to find out more about Hadassah House and what they believe, and what needs they have, click here.

The End Of The Story

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about what Jim and I had to go through to finally get our bonus check from our former employer. When we picked up those checks, we saw that they had deducted $24.78 from Jim's check for electricity that we had already paid.

So, the next day I wrote a letter to them and included a copy of the receipt showing the electric bill had been paid, requesting that they send a refund check. Well, I am happy to say that we received our refund in the mail today. We have ALL of our money, finally, after only six months.

Let this story of our misfortune be a lesson to you all---keep your receipts and documentation until you are satisfied with the outcome of the situation.

Jackpot!

In Pennsylvania, you cannot buy beer in a convenience store. They also do not have beer stores. So, if you want to buy a six-pack of beer to take home and enjoy, you have to go to a pub or a restaurant. Jim asked me to pick him up a six-pack today so he could have a beer when he gets off work at ten. I went to Fairfield, about five miles west of the campground, to Ventura’s.

Ventura’s is an Italian restaurant that makes the best pizza in this area. When I went in to get the beer, it smelled sooooo good in there. So, when I was paying for the beer, I asked if they had any gluten free dishes on the menu. The guy running the register started to say no, but the owner had been passing through and heard me ask. He came up to the register and asked me what my allergy was.

I explained to him that I was allergic to wheat, and could not eat any product that has gluten in it. He told me that he is a nutritionist, and understands allergies, and celiac disease. He said that they use HIGH gluten flours to make their pizza dough, but that if I would bring him some flour he would be glad to make a pizza for me anytime I wanted to come in and eat with my husband!

Ok, so the other day I wrote about how I did not miss eating pizza. Maybe I don’t, but I DO miss eating pizza WITH MY HUSBAND. So, I am going to be taking some flour to Rob at Ventura’s, and I will let you all know what happens.

Oh, yeah, and while I was out, I also stopped at the convenience store and bought a scratch off lottery ticket. I won $70. Yippee!

Gluten Free Pizza

I have not missed pizza at all since I found out I couldn't eat it, but then I know how bad I feel when I eat the gluten. So, because my husband Jim was whining about not getting to eat pizza anymore, I decided to try to make one at home for him. Now, he is not a celiac or even gluten intolerant, but since there are only two of us living here, and I am the cook, I have told him that he has to eat whatever I can eat. I am not into cooking two meals every night. And it won't hurt him to eat what I eat.

With that in mind, I started looking at recipes for pizza crust, and found that I did not have all the ingredients listed in any of them. So, as all good FabGrandmas do, I improvised and used what I had, loosely following a recipe in the Bette Hagman's book, "The Gluten-Free Gourmet Cooks Fast And Healthy." Here is my recipe, based on hers:

1/2 cup millet flour
1/2 cup brown rice flour
1/2 cup tapioca flour
1 tsp xanthan gum
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1 1/2 Tbl olive oil
1 egg
1/2 teaspoon vinegar
1 1/2 tsp brown sugar
1 cup warm water
1 pkg dry yeast

Mix together all the dry ingredients except the sugar in a bowl. In another bowl, combine the egg, oil, vinegar, 1 tablespoon of the brown sugar. Put the water and yeast in a measuring cup, stir to disolve the yeast. Add the yeast water to the bowl with the liquid ingredients and beat with a mixer on low speed. Add about half of the dry ingredients and beat well with the mixer. Add the rest of the dry ingredients and mix in with a spoon until it is smooth. Let the dough rise for 40 minutes (25 minutes for quick rising yeast). Stir it down, and spread on a baking sheet that has been sprayed with olive oil. This will be a thin, runny dough compared to a wheat flour based dough.

I baked my crust first at 350 degrees for about 12 minutes before adding the toppings. After you add your toppings, bake for another 12-15 minutes at 425 degrees.

The texture of this was not as chewy as "real" pizza dough, but it did have a nutty, "wheaty" yeast flavor and was crispy and brown on the bottom. And not bad for a first try. Jim liked it, and ate four pieces of it. As long as he is smiling after dinner, I feel like I succeeded.

My First Attempt At Gluten Free Baking

Last night I had my first attemtp at gluten free baking. I made a chocolate cake, loosely following a recipe I found online, using the things I had on hand. It was made with a mixture of millet flour, brown rice flour, and tapioca flour. I added some eggs, some olive oil, some xanthan gum, some baking powder and salt, and some cocoa powder. I did not have enough sugar in the house to put in as much as the recipe called for, and I am glad I didn't because it was sweet enough without it.

When it was done, I let it cool off, and served it with raspberries and whipped cream on top. Jim liked it enough to eat two pieces of it, so it passed the test. Now if I could remember just exactly how much of each thing I used...

Making Meals Ahead

Jim and I are working the evening shift at our job this season. This means that on Sunday, Monday, and Thursday, we get off at eight o'clock. On Friday and Saturday we don't get off until ten o'clock, and that will change soon to eleven o'clock. It also means that we are not eating the way we should, mostly because I don't feel like cooking anything when I get off work so late. This is made even harder since I am a diabetic and also recently changed to a gluten free diet.

Today I took a couple of hours to do some things in the kitchen so that we can have a light meal when we get home, or that we can grab on the run when we get a slow minute on the job.

First, I cooked three days worth of meats, packed them in plastic containers, and put them in the fridge. I made our favorite "Chicken and Salsa", then just cooked some ground beef and some italian sausage. Making "Chicken and Salsa" is easy. You just skin your chicken pieces, brown them in some olive oil, add a jar of your favorite salsa, cover, and simmer for about 25 minutes. Served over rice, it is a delicious and filling meal. It is really quick to make, but even this is too much to attempt when you don't get off work til ten o'clock. It keeps well in the fridge, then just microwave for a couple of minutes at meal time.

Next, I cooked up a batch of rice. I have found that when I store cooked rice in a ziplock bag in the refrigerator, it keeps well and heats up fast. I made enough rice to last four or five days. I can serve it with anything and it is gluten free.

After that, I chopped up tomatos, mushrooms, red onions, green onions, and lettuce. I made a big salad with some of it, then put the rest of each item in plastic containers in the refrigerator, so that we can make a salad quickly when we need one. I also boiled a dozen eggs, peeled them, and put them in a ziplock bag in the fridge. They'll be gone way before they have a chance to go bad.

Now that all that is done, I can make a quick batch of chili or ghoulash with the ground beef, and spaghetti with the italian sausage (gluten free noodles, of course). I can have a side salad with a meal, or I can make us a chef salad with boiled eggs, turkey or ham on top. It only took a little time to do this, and it will help us eat better this week.

How To Enlarge Your Breasts Overnight

I hate shopping. And of all the things in the whole world that I hate shopping for, I hate shopping for bras the most. It really irritates me that I have to spend so much money on those items of clothing just so that my breasts won’t flop around and look “unladylike” to others.

The other day, I had to go shopping for bras. The last time I bought some was about three years ago at a flea market in McAllen, Texas. I got some really nice, brand new Vanity Fair bras with the tags still on them, for $3.00 each. I picked out my size 38C unpadded underwire bras, paid for them, and took them home. They fit.

I have worn size 38C unpadded underwire bras since my youngest daughter was born 32 years ago. I have never had to try bras on at the store. I just bought them in the right size, took them home, and wore them until they wore out or sprung a wire, then went and got some more. That is exactly what I expected to do when I went to get some more the other day.

But no! At my first choice of store, Target, there was not even one bra in the store that was a size 38C unpadded underwire version, in any brand. I even considered getting one that had just a little bit of padding, but nope, no 38C’s. I thought to myself, I must be in the world capital of size 38C boobies. So, I went to another store. Wal-Mart.

One thing I hate worse than shopping for bras is shopping at Wal-Mart for anything. But, because I was down to only two size 38C unpadded underwire bras, and one of those has a broken wire, I had to go get some new ones somewhere.

Since we were in Frederick for the day, I went to the Wal-Mart there. I found a couple different brands of bras that had my 38C unpadded underwire versions, so I grabbed up four of them, took them to the register, paid for them, and took them home. I felt victorious, that even though I had to go to Wal-Mart to get them, at least I had gotten my new underwear and it would be over with for another year.

When I got home, I changed into my nightgown and started cooking dinner for my husband and me. We have a new trailer that we just got in December. In my new kitchen, the microwave oven is installed above the stove top, where I have to reach over my head to put thing in and take things out. I was cooking steamed asparagus in the microwave that night.

When I reached into the microwave to take out the bowl of asparagus, I accidently poured the hot liquid from the bowl down the front of my body. I rushed into the bathroom and took off my clothes. I put cold water on the burn, then put on some Carmex. The pain stopped, but I was left with a two and half inch long red burn mark right between amd slightly below my size 38C breasts.

The next morning, as I was getting dressed for the day, I attempted to don one of my new size 38C unpadded underwire bras that I purchased the day before. Now, I don’t know how other girls do it, but I have never learned how to put on a bra and fasten it behind my back. No, I have always hooked that sucker on backwards, then turned it around to the correct position, and commenced pushing my 38C’s into the cups. It's like I am a contortionist at the circus every morning. But this day, that action was hampered not only by the pesky burn between my breasts, but also by the fact that even though the tags said “38C” on them, the dang thing wouldn’t fit.

It wasn’t even big enough to fasten, much less turn around on my body. What? I looked at the tag again, just to make sure I had picked up the right one at the store. Yes, it did say 38C on the tag, but the thing was just not big enough. Had I grown overnight? I mean, I have worn 38C unpadded underwire bras for 32 years, how could I have outgrown them in just one night? I soon realized that not only did that bra not fit, none of the ones I bought did. And then, I realized I would have to go back to Wal-Mart. Damn!

The next day, I went to the Wal-Mart in Gettysburg with my Bag O Bras from the other Wal-Mart. I had my receipt, but I had taken the tags of one of them. The sullen clerk at the Customer Service desk told me “I will take this back this time, but we normally don’t take bras back if the tags are torn off of them.” Oh, thanks, I’ll remember that one.

After I got my money back, I went to the lingerie department. I quickly found the size 38C unpadded underwire bras in some different brands from the ones I had bought the day before. I took them to the dressing room to try them on, and guess what? They didn’t fit, either. Now I knew. I HAD grown overnight. Just as I had suspected. I got dressed and went back out to the sales floor.

After trying on several bras, and irritating my burn along the way, I discovered that I had really blossomed into a size 40D in just 36 hours. So, now, I am the proud owner of six size 40D unpadded underwire bras. I hope I don’t grow any more.

   

 

A New And Improved Gluten-Free FabGrandma

For most of my life, I have had some, um, very embarassing problems with my gut. But, since my father and most of my siblings had the same problems, I just thought it was normal, that some people were just, um, that way. My husband and his daughter would laugh and make smart remarks about my, um, problem.

But all that has changed very dramatically for me in just a week. About two weeks ago, I received a life changing email from one of my cousins. In that email, he described his symptoms, which included diahrea, pain in his legs and back, tiredness, "brain fog", and constant hunger, just to name a few. He told about how he had been diagnosed with Crohn's disease back in November of 2006 and had been taking medication for it ever since, but getting no better. He said he finally did a google search with all of his symptoms and "allergy", and found a lot of information about Celiac disease.

Celiac disease runs in families. It is 95% heriditary. It is the most common genetic disorder in the world. It is caused by an intolerance of gluten, which is found in wheat products. It presents itself with a host of symptoms, which can range from constant diahrea to constant constipation. In children, it can cause behaviour disorders, ADHD, failure to thrive and/or failure to gain weight. In adults it can lead to other endoctrin disorders like thyroid disease, diabetes, lymphomas, and a greater risk of liver cancer, the disease that killed my father at the age of 62.

Because a lot of my cousin's problems sound like my own, I decided to try a gluten free diet for two weeks, just to see if celiac disease could be MY problem. I am writing today to let the world know, that I think it is.

I no longer have to take pain releivers every night before I go to bed because my legs don't hurt anymore. I am not hungry all the time. I am able to think better and my eyes seem to see things brighter. And I have been diahrrea free for a week. Even after eating salads, (I used to think I was allergic to lettuce), even after eating braised liver, (I used to think I was allergic to liver, which I love), even after eating eggs for breakfast (I used to think I was sensitive to eggs). All this time the culprit has been the croutons, the gravy, the toast! It is such a freedom to NOT have to be sure I am near a bathroom, the closer the better, when I decide to eat something.

I have found some pretty good gluten free products at the local grocery store. At the Rose Garden, they have an entire gluten free section. At Dunlap's one of our favorite restaurants in town, when I asked the waitress is there was any flour used in preparation of the braised liver, she told me she had some other gluten free customers so she understood my problem. Yes!

I have sent my cousin several emails thanking him for sending me the information he sent. But, just for the world to see, Thank you, Jimmy! I really appreciate it. And, um, so does Jim!