I'm Alive (barely)

Felled by a massive migraine that took a few days to recover from, Thanksgiving excitement, and a golden retriever who has had a week-long case of rainy day boredom, exhausted but alive.

I'll be back asap.

And no, I'm not up the stick. Promise!

The Dog Ate My Pants Defense

So, after a fun-filled night in Athens for Kinger's engagement party, I groggily awoke and after consuming enough bacon to make me feel like a human being, I decided it was time to struggle into clothes and get on the road.  I pulled on my tee and cardigan, rooted through the clothes scattered around Kinger's childhood bedroom, and slipped on my pixie pants.

Which were quite drafty.

"Oh my word!  I have eaten entirely too much bacon and split my damn pants!" were the first thoughts that flew through my bleary brain.  Hmmm.

I was a bit relieved when I removed the air-conditioned britches and discovered chew marks.  Kinger's devil dachshund, Lula, had eaten out the seat of my pants. I was faced with a conundrum- I could wear my gold and black full skirted cocktail dress, bottom-less pixie pants, or my lime green and fuchsia cotton pj pants.  I chose the latter, and prayed I wouldn't have to get gas or you the facilities on my four hour drive home.

In case either of the above became a necessity, I chose to go home through the mountains- a bit longer than driving through Atlanta and Chattanooga, but far less probability of seeing anyone I know.

Zooming on up the highway, rehashing all the gossip from the night before on my phone, I was completely unaware that the speed limit had changed from 65 to 55. However, the cop that was behind me was quite aware.

Now, I was just too worn out to even attempt to get out of the ticket.  I merely queried when the limit had changed, then settled down to read my new Town and Country while he wrote the ticket.

Of course, I did have to explain to him that I was speeding for a perfectly legitimate reason.

I had to go to the restroom and the dog ate my pants!

Yeah, I still got the ticket.

The Junior League Project- Charleston Part Two

Mmmm, so here's the soufflé all bubbly out of the oven.  I had the leftovers with a simple green salad for dinner the other night and it was divine.

Since I was cooking Charleston style, Buddy was very proper.

He was absolutely horrified when his Mom served and ate dinner in her pajamas, with the remnants of her pre-Sunday School makeup smeared around her face.

In addition to the soufflé, we had oven fried chicken.  Now, my complaint with oven fried chicken is generally this- Don't try to be something you're not.  Sage advice for people, those laminate countertops which purport to look like granite, and chicken. Now I love chicken that's dipped in something rolled in crackers or cereal and baked (with, ahem, butter drizzled on top). However, it ain't fried chicken.  On the other hand it's mouth-wateringly scrumptious.  And you feel virtuous, which is always helpful on Sunday nights. 

 Crush your crackers- I used Multi Grain Club Crackers.  I am obvious a shining example of health.

 Here's my assembly line- sour cream, cracker crumbs, baking dish.  One dry hand. One wet hand.  Now, if I was going to make this again, I would put a baking rack in my dish so both sides of the chicken are crispy.  And I will make this again.  Watch out chickens!

 It does kind of look like fried chicken.  Don't be fooled, but it almost equals the real thing is deliciousness.  So, Charleston Receipts Repeats is definitely a winner in my book- our dinner with garlic roasted broccoli.

Although I do think the real winner in this whole project is Hubs- lots of cooking coming his way, with none of my normal lean-mean waistline maintaining measures.

Now, tell me all about y'all's weekends!  I am so excited to be seeing so many ladies with a weekend full of wedding dress shopping and an engagement party in the home of my beloved Bulldogs.