LOVE BALLS

This is the winning recipe from the chocolate contest at the 2010 Sevier County Fair. I was a judge and although we wondered if these balls were donations from a kitty litter box, we were brave and bit into them. OH MY! They were heavenly. I have to admit they are a very romantic treat for your better half and you. ;-)


LOVE BALLS

• 3 cups sweetened whipped cream chilled in the freezer – not to ice cream stage, but firm.
• 1 1/2 cup semi-sweet chocolate pieces (In the USA just buy 2 Hersey Symphony Bars )
• 3/4 cup crunched almond toffee pieces -- Crunched quite small to 1/8 pea size
• 1 1/2 cup Graham Wafer or Digestive Biscuit crumbs -- Crunched almost to powder…
• 1/4 cup cinnamon
• 1/8 cup sugar
• 1 2oz bottle of Confectioner’s Dessert Sprinkles

Place semi-sweet chocolate pieces/chunks --- and almond toffee pieces in a bowl and microwave until the mixture starts to soften. (about 30 to 40 seconds) Take a fork and blend the mixture so the toffee pieces are well distributed among the chocolate. When somewhat cooled, mix the chocolate/toffee into the whipped cream and then place the mixture back into the freezer. Let it stay there until the mixture is once again firm, but not frozen.

While the chocolate mixture is setting, crumble the Graham Wafer or digestive biscuits. Mix the cinnamon and sugar together and mix it with the wafer/biscuit crumbs. Place this mixture in a wide bowl and set aside.

In another wide bowl, take the “sprinkle”lid off of the dessert sprinkles and dump the colorful little balls into the bowl. Set it next to the wafer/biscuit crumb bowl.

When the chocolate mixture is firm, take the round tablespoon and dip it into the mixture. Then scoop the mixture out of the round tablespoon with a regular dinning spoon and drop it into the crumbs. With clean hands or hands covered with plastic chef gloves, roll the drop of the mixture around in the crumbs just enough to lightly cover it. Then take this ball and drop it into the dessert sprinkles. Roll it around until it is covered and very round. Place the completed ball on a plate that will fit in your freezer. Keep dipping and rolling until the mixture is gone, then place the balls back into the freezer for a while. In fact, I leave them in the freezer and take them out a little while before serving. You will want them a little firm but not frozen.

Now, I am aware that the balls look a little strange, but OH MY, once your guest bites into one, he/she will be hooked.

Tin Soldiers

TIN SOLDIERS
by Elaine Street

"These sure are cute little lacy plants." the neighbor gushed, and then continued, "What kind are they?"
"Oh, they're Elaine's marijuana plants." mumbled the sweet gray headed lady as she grabbed another towel from her laundry basket to hang on the clothesline.
"Well, did you hear about the little Nielsen girl? Can you imagine, getting married so young?" the jaws yammered. "I'll bet she's pregnant."

* * *

The summer of 1974 was going to go down as one of the most memorable for Elaine. With high school graduation in the next week, she was thinking how each minute had to be lived to its fullest, because who knew what would come next.
"Honk, honk." bellowed a familiar horn.
Elaine glanced up as she was striding toward her tan, Olds 88, bomb in the school parking lot. A deep maroon, Chevy Chevelle 447 cruised up beside her. It was Dennis, her boyfriend of two years. Elaine's parents were not too pleased with their relationship. Dennis' family was okay, but he was not the "church type". Elaine was shocked the first time he asked her out; she didn't think she was his type. Being cute in a “Teddy Bear” sort of way on the outside, he marred is inside by partaking, once in a while, a few illegal substances. Elaine figured that she could "save" him so she accepted. Thoughts of dating someone on the edge intrigued her. The two immediately hit it off and had a blast whenever they were together as long as she saluted his commands.
"Come on. Get in. I've got something to show you," he snapped.
"Okay," said Elaine as she jumped in and slid over by him.
As rubber squealed out of the parking lot, he enlightened her. "You know Randy, the guy taking auto body with me at the Tech? The one with the hopped up Vega. . . ?
She nodded.
"Well, he's going to be in serious trouble if we don't help him. You see Randy kicked his roommate, Greg, out of their house, and Greg is not too happy because he has had to sleep in the Lion's Park the last few weeks."
Dennis went on to explain that Greg was getting even with Randy. For the last two years Greg had grown marijuana around his father's cornfields in Wayne County. Harvesting it before his father caught on, Greg had himself quite a stash, with plenty of seeds for a new batch. He told Dennis that he had planted marijuana seeds all around Randy's rented house in Richfield. Greg knew that the police would bust Randy. What a way to get even!
"The plants are just right for transplanting" Dennis mentioned. "Let's go get some before I tell Randy and he digs them all up."
Elaine had never seen a marijuana plant before. She was curious, but she was also cautious. "You're sure no one knows about this? We won't get caught or anything will we?"
"Oh lighten up. You worry too much."
He pulled his car up in front of the little house. No one was home. Grabbing some paper cups and spoons Dennis had brought, they walked around the house. Sure enough, little marijuana plants were poking their heads up to see the world.
"Come on. Let's hurry!" Dennis commanded, "You dig over there and I'll dig here."
"But I just wanted to watch."
"Hurry. Help me before Randy comes," he ordered her like a four star general.
Snapping to, Elaine quickly and carefully transferred three healthy plants into the paper homes and carted them back to the Chevelle. Setting them on the seat like fragile glass sculptures, she thought, “They are kind of cute. I wonder what they look like when they flower? I wonder if I dare take them home like I would a puppy?” As Dennis got in, she asked, "Now what do we do with them?"
His car motored in a slower than normal motion as they discussed various options. Then it was decided. He would take his home and so would she.
After she got back into her own car, Elaine looked at the frail little specimens. “I've always been able to level with my mom. I'll tell her just what they are and see if she'll let me grow them in the backyard.”
As Elaine pulled up in front of her home, she noticed some young boys playing in the baseball field next to the house. It was Robin and his friend Kelly. The boys were laughing and having fun. Elaine longed to be like them again without the thoughts of graduation and the future lurking in the back of her mind.
Protecting the lacy little foliage from snapping in the breeze, Elaine carried them in the house and explained the situation to her, preoccupied, dinner-cooking, mother. Then added, "I don't care to smoke it. I just want to see if I can grow it and see what it looks like when it flowers."
"Okay. Set them over there on the counter, and help me by putting the dishes on the table for supper."
As Elaine sauntered into the kitchen the next morning, the counter was empty. They were gone. She was a little comforted thinking that her mother had thrown them away, but the back door opened.
"I've found a home for your plants. Come and see!" her mother beamed.
Ambling behind her, Elaine was led to a spot in the backyard. There they were, in the shade of the blossoming cherry tree, lined up like tin soldiers ready to withstand anything.
"Thanks Mom," she swallowed.

* * *

The summer was a busy one. Between teaching swimming lessons and life guarding at the city pool, Elaine didn't have a lot of time for her relationship to grow with Dennis, but her tin soldiers grew taller and wider every day. “I hope we don't get caught,” was always in the back of her mind. “I wonder why Dennis seems so calm about the whole thing? Is he used to this?”

* * *

By the middle of August, white hats were starting to adorn the three- foot tall soldiers.
"That is a dainty little flower," commented her mother.
"Yes, it is. It's toooo bad they won't hold up when it freezes," Elaine came back in a slightly sarcastic way. She was thinking about the added stress because of them and relieved at the thought of frost.
Finally the first of September - - The kids were out of school for Labor Day, the last time the cooling plunge would be open that year. After sitting in the hot sun for what seemed like hours, Elaine was highly contented to get into her tan bomb and propel herself home. As she rounded the corner, a sight made her heart stop. A sheriff's car had stationed itself in front of her home.
"Oh no!”
She whipped past her house and immediately cracked down to Dennis' place.
"Good, he's home," she gasped as she screeched into his driveway.
"Calm down," he said as she told him about the cop car. "If you were in trouble, they would have arrested you at the pool. Now go home and act as if nothing has happened. If they are there to scope out the plants, tell them you didn't know what they were. " Then he ordered her as if he had epaulets on his shoulders, "Don't you dare get me involved with this."
“Hey, weren’t we in this together?” she thought as she dejectedly planted herself back in the bomb.
Summoning up all the acting ability inside, she rehearsed the scene as the bomb coasted around the corner again. The four-wheeled guard was still there keeping watch. Strategically placing the bomb for a quick get-away, Elaine got out and started walking toward her doom.
“Hey, Elaine. Come and pitch some fast ones to us,” yelled a voice from the baseball field.
“Yeah. It’ll be fun,” chirped Robin.
She walked toward them like a prisoner trying to sneak away from work detail, but then she stopped. “What if they come and arrest me in front of the boys?”
Elaine said reluctantly, “Sorry guys. I would love to play with you tomorrow though. Dad showed me a new curve I’d like to try.” Then she mumbled under her breath, “If there is a tomorrow.”
Taking a deep breath as she started to head for her house, Elaine thought, “I can do this.”
Her legs seemed like mushy spaghetti as she wobbled through the front door. Expecting to see a room filled with people, there was no one. All was silent except for her quick breaths. She worked her way out of the back door and heard the endless chatter of people. Just then the aroma of barbecue touched her nostrils. Inching her way along each of the cinder blocks that lined the house, she was able to get view of the crowd. Dad was frying hamburgers on the grill; Mother and two ladies were preparing the picnic table under the cherry tree; another lady was stirring punch; and two men, one of them in a sheriff's uniform, were sitting directly in front of the marijuana soldiers. In fact, as the breeze blew, the soldiers waved fingers across the back of their necks.
Just then Elaine's father noticed her. "Hey come on out here and meet some friends I met in Alcoholics Anonymous." The introductions went on until he said, "And last but not least, is the sheriff in charge of drugs and alcohol, Officer Jensen."
"How are you, young lady?" Urged the officer as he shook her hand. "Won't you come and sit down over here with us and chat a while?"
"Ahhhh. . . no thanks. . . ahhh. . . I've got a date tonight. . . It was nice meeting you though." Elaine murmured as she backed into the house. Her breathing was easier now. In fact, she chuckled. "That guy did look a bit on the senile side. Maybe he's never seen a marijuana plant before."
Just then the phone rang. It was Dennis.
"Is everything okay?" He interrogated.
"It's fine. False alarm. . . I'll see you later on main and explain."

* * *

A few days later, Elaine went home after helping close up the pool. She could hear her mother talking to someone while hanging out clothes. Peering out the window, Elaine noticed that it was “The Mouth,” a nickname her father had given the neighbor lady across the street.
"These sure are cute little lacy plants. . . "
Just then Elaine eyed her three tin soldiers. Her mother had carefully placed them into shiny ceramic homes. They were sitting on the porch exposing themselves to the neighbors.
After “The Mouth” had yammered for a while and gone, Elaine stamped out and demanded, "Mother what were you thinking? Now she'll go all over town spouting out, 'Elaine Breinholt is growing marijuana!' Why did you pot them in the first place? I wanted them to freeze."
"What are you so upset about? They'll make cute house plan. . . you mean they really are marijuana? . . . You're always teasing me. . . Elaine, what am I going to do with you?"
"That does it! I'm getting rid of them once and for all." Gathering the soldiers in her arms, she marched directly to the canal behind her home. Splitting up the ranks, she pitched them in one at a time for a final burial at sea. Watching as each one drew its last breath, Elaine's mind was clear, clearer than it had been in a long time. She was not only getting rid of her three tin soldiers, but also their general.
* * *
“Hey, Elaine are you ready to show us that new curve?” yelled Robin.
“You know it!” She said freely, “Just let me get my mitt.”

The Sweet Innocence of Children

Lainee Brian wanted her two boys, ages five and six, to have a fun time at the annual neighborhood Halloween costume party. In the years past, she had come up with outfits for the boys to wear: clowns, cowboys, and football players. But now the two were old enough that they wanted to be different characters and not go as a duo.

“We are not twins, mom!”

Lainee decided to see how creative her boys were in coming up with an idea for a costume. To help them with ideas for characters, she talked with the boys about the superhero characters that they thought were powerful. Lainee added. “Take three days to think this over so that you are certain about the shoes you will step into. It’s hard to change costumes at the last minute.”

The elder of the two started going through magazines and talking with this young mother about various superheroes. The five-year old didn’t give it much thought and spent his time busily riding his big wheel around the block, visiting the neighbors and playing with friends.

The morning of the 3rd day, both boys came into the kitchen. The oldest said, “I want to be Batman because he made himself a superhero.”

“Nice choice,” Lainee responded, “I think we can manage that.”

The youngest son got a great big bright smile on his face and exclaimed, “This was easy. I want to be Jesus because he’s the greatest of all the heroes!”

An Adventure In Love (redneck style)

Anonymous
http://www.ncbuy.com/humor/jokes_view.html?jkv=12685

Grandma's Aprons

APRONS

By Tina Trivett and By Robert Ragan

I don't think our kids know what an apron is.

The principal use of Grandma's apron was to protect

the dress underneath, because she only had a few. 

It was easier to wash aprons than dresses and they

used less material; but along with that, it served as a

potholder for removing hot pans from the oven.

It was wonderful for drying children's tears, and on

occasion was even used for cleaning out dirty ears.

From the chicken coop, the apron was used for carrying

eggs, fussy chicks, and sometimes half-hatched eggs to

be finished in the warming oven.

When company came, those aprons were

ideal hiding places for shy kids.

 And when the weather was cold

grandma wrapped it around her arms.

Those big old aprons wiped many a

perspiring brow, bent over the hot wood stove.

Chips and kindling wood were brought

into the kitchen in that apron.

From the garden, it carried all sorts of vegetables.

After the peas had been shelled, it carried out the hulls.

 In the fall, the apron was used to bring

in apples that had fallen from the trees.

When unexpected company drove up the road,

 it was surprising how much furniture that

old apron could dust in a matter of seconds.

When dinner was ready, Grandma walked out

onto the porch, waved her apron, and the men

folks knew it was time to come in from the fields to dinner.

It will be a long time before someone invents

something that will replace that 'old-time

apron' that served so many purposes.

REMEMBER:

Grandma used to set her hot baked

apple pies on the windowsill to cool.

 Her granddaughters set theirs on the windowsill to thaw.

They would go crazy now trying to figure

out how many germs were on that apron.

I don't think I ever caught anything bad from an apron.

I caught a case of LOVE from one.

The Streets Hit The Road

I talk a wild talk about Harley-Davidsons, but in truth, I am scared to death of them ;-)… Let’s just say that I have been given rides on the back of five different motorcycles. Of the five trips, I have been in wrecks three times. The last ride was with my husband who had just bought a nice road motorcycle. He begged and pleaded with me to get on. I finally relented. We were cruising through our town and were passing by a friend’s home – both of us were waving at our friend because he was outside in his yard. We were not paying attention to the road. Suddenly, “wwhhaackk..ssplaaaatt..whuuumppp” I flew and my husband flew and we both skidded across the asphalted street. The motorcycle had hit something in the middle of the road…the friend watching said it was a dog. I was upset and got up from the road to see if it was okay; but it wasn’t there. It had run off. I checked to see if my hubby was okay. He was scraped a bit but fine…so I kissed him and took off in search of the dog. Now, I’m thinking that we had hit a small dog who now needed major medical attention. Nope, it was a huge Great Dane, and believe it or not, it was in better shape than my husband or myself. The dog is still alive today…my husband and I recovered from our scrapes and bruises; however, I have not gotten on a motorcycle since.

The dog was the only Great Dane in the neighborhood and everyone was familiar with it, (a crazy dog some said) so it wasn’t hard to find. He was a little shaken, but okay. I went back and checked on him for the next two weeks and he was fine. The motorcycle now has a little bent bar that surrounds the engine. I feel kind of sad for my husband because he bought the bike thinking that we could cruise together around the countryside and now his wife is too afraid. I keep telling him to just go and enjoy the ride and that I will wait for him. He won’t go though.

An Early Biking Adventure

Yes, it is worth it

Paulo Coelho

Life is like a big bike race where the goal is to fulfill you personal legend.
At the start, we are riding together, sharing the camaraderie and enthusiasm. But as the race progresses, the initial joy gives way to the real challenges: tiredness, monotony and doubts about our own abilities.
We notice that some have withdrawn. They are still running, but only because they cannot stop in the middle of a road. They are numerous, pedaling alongside the support car, talking to each other and performing only their obligations.

Eventually we distance ourselves from them and we are forced to face the loneliness and the surprises of the unknown curves with the bikes. And after a while, we begin to wonder if it’s worth the effort.

Yes, it is worth it. Just don’t quit.

****************************************************************

 After reading this in Paulo's blog, I remembered an experience/adventure that changed my life.

IS "THAT THING" A BOY OR A GIRL?

When I was much younger, around 11 years, I loved riding bikes with friends and also alone. At this age, I discovered that I had matured much faster than my friends; however in this race, I decided, at first, to remain, as much as possible, “with the pack.” I wore huge shirts to cover my size D cup breasts. Even though my mother insisted, I would not wear a bra. I just wanted to be like the other neighborhood children my age — most of them boys. I even cut my hair short to fit in. We had a baseball park next to my home, and I could pitch a baseball with the best of them.

One morning, “braless,” I put on my huge shirt and started on a solo bike ride to the nearest store to buy some penny candy. As I was pedaling past the ballpark, I noticed a motorhome that had parked there for the night. An older lady and a man were sitting in folding chairs sipping their morning coffee. As I rode by, the lady commented rather loudly and snippy, “Is THAT THING a boy or a girl? I can’t tell.”

I rode on contemplating her remarks. "People from the sideline during the race of life CAN influence the outcome if you let them."

"I AM a girl, lady…How dare you!!!"

When I pedaled back from the store, the lady was still there sipping away at her coffee… I edged my bike close enough to her so that I could see that she really didn’t have much up front in her blouse. Then, I lifted my shirt proudly showing her my well developed front and remarked to the old coot, that I was one hundred and ten percent girl and that she had better not judge people so rudely especially when they had more than she. Then I continued on my trek.

I really don’t know what possessed me to do that; but, I’ll have to admit, the look on her face was priceless.

“When onlookers make negative remarks at your progress toward your personal legend, let their remarks flop in a can like garbage…that is unless you have a great comeback line that will leave them thinking – especially with their mouths open."