Irish Magic

Slainte! That was me raising my virtual mug of green beer to you.

There is a lot of Irish Magic going around in preparation for St. Patrick's Day. Here in Houston, the Buffalo Bayou will magically turn green overnight in honor of St. Paddy's Day...And in San Antonio, the same named river that meanders through downtown will magically turn green.

In my family, the Irish Magic took the form of potato soup. This recipe for potato soup came over on the boat with one of my foremothers during the potato famine. My grandmother still had the original recipe, written in a very pretty and loopy handwriting on somewhat brownish and crispy paper. This potato soup would magically cure whatever you happened to be suffering from. If you had a tummy ache, you were put to bed and served a bowl of potato soup and you always felt better soon afterward. (Thank goodness no one ever had appendicitis) The potato soup was used for colds and flu as well. My grandmother called it Irish Magic. I have come to think of it as Irish Penicillin.

In the March issue of Living With the Muse newsletter we shared some more recipes with you. If you didn't get it, you can check it out here-> http://eepurl.com/j4BCf

 I'm sharing the family potato soup recipe with you today. Make some magic of your own.
~JD

Irish Potato Soup

I updated this recipe as I rarely have time to milk the cow and skim the cream off the morning's milk.

3 pounds peeled russet potatoes cut into chunks

1 medium onion, diced

3 stalks celery with leaves, chopped

3 cans chicken stock or water with chicken bouillon cubes

Salt

White pepper

1 tall can evaporated milk

1 stick butter or margarine

Place potatoes, celery and onion in a large stockpot. Add enough chicken stock or water (with bouillon cubes) to generously cover. Bring to a boil and reduce heat to simmer for 20 minutes. Remove from heat and mash the vegetables, slightly. I just use a potato masher or a fork against the side of the pan. You still want it to be chunky, but mashing part of it makes it rich and creamy. Add entire stick of butter and can of evaporated milk. Add white pepper and salt to taste.

Experience River Street, Savannah, Georgia

River Street is on the Savannah River, Savannah, Georgia, one of the most nostalgic cities anywhere. Watch the old tug boats and see The Waving Girl Statue, Florence Martus, where she greets visitors and ships. Some of the most delectable foods are yours during your stay. Take tours of the grand old city, shop and enjoy the night life that's forever ongoing.

Among civil war military forts and battle sites that are must visits, Savannah hosts the third largest St. Patrick's Day Parade and festivals in the world.  Third only to Dublin, Ireland and New York, New York.

Gotta tell you, if you aren't in Dublin or New York, Savannah is the place to be. There, you'll find old bookstores, art galleries and shops for your every whim. Since Georgia is known for peanuts, of course there's a peanut shop where you can find the ultimate treat for yourself and pack away several items for friends and family. Delicious!

If you love candy, and I don't know too many who don't, the candy stores there are to die for. The butter pecans are the best I've ever had. Lord, the pralines alone are enough to make you want to dance on the streets. You may see a bit of dancing in the streets, so don't be shy if you want to kick up your heels.

Sit by the river and relax and take in all the festivities. If you get a chance to visit, you won't regret the trip.

Happy St. Patrick's Day to everyone in two days, nine hours and forty-seven minutes. I hope you have a great day!

Carol DeVaney

Got a favorite?

I hate to admit it, but it’s true – I have an addiction. Tea is my drink. Black, green or white. Hot or cold. Regular or decaf. With milk or not.

There have been ceremonies and rituals dedicated to drinking tea, with the Japanese and British occurrences being the most widely known.

In both ceremonies, it’s not so much the drinking of the tea as the preparation of it. The Japanese tea ceremony is over 1000 years old has very precise steps, and can take 10 years to learn them.

No matter how formal the British tea appears, it is much less so than the Japanese. It is also a relative newcomer compared to the Chinese and Japanese, not having established trade routes (and a steady supply) until the late 1670s. While we tend to use high tea and afternoon tea interchangeably, they are quite different. High tea is basically a meal, with meat, cheese, bread, and of course tea, served at a ‘high’ table such as a dining table.  Afternoon tea, started in the early-mid 1800s, has the sweets and savories many of us associate with a tea. The Afternoon Tea was created to foster friendships: the hostess would invite her closest friends for tea and a visit.

This is perhaps why I identify with the British tea so much. I can drink gallons of tea myself; have no trouble doing so. But it is so much nicer to share with a friend. I particularly have two tea friends whom I meet with at different times. One, we meet at a local Starbuck’s and spend way too much time catching up on our lives. The other is an older friend and we have been at each other’s homes more times than I can count. Tea is always involved no matter what else there is or isn’t. When our kids were little, they used to measure the visits in terms of our tea. If we finished too quickly, one would invariably say, ‘have another cup.”

Tea itself is refreshing. I can’t think of a more welcome drink on a hot summer day than fresh brewed unsweetened iced tea. For the other three seasons of the year, I have to have my hot tea. I even bought a tea kettle specifically for my office at one time. My office mate and I gauged how busy we were by the time we managed to have our first cup of tea.  Tea by 9 was  slow morning, by 10 was average and if the morning tea didn’t come until 1:00, the whole day was pretty our of control.

I like so many teas in so many variations I couldn’t even list them.  But know this: by 10 in the morning, I will lift my cup of tea to you and salute – encouraging you to join me.

Catwoman Takes a Dog!

I have always had cats. I seem to be a cat magnet. They find me and know just how to approach me to be assured they will be taken inside, fed and spoiled.

How, you ask, would a certified cat lover be able to lose her heart to a small, stinky and yappy dog? Let me just say, it was by degrees. You know...Like how you fell in love with your kids, because, let's face it. They stink. They turn your life upside down. They want to eat when you want to sleep, and vice-versa. You have to spend all your money on them and more than that...all your time.

I'll start at the beginning: I was having a day with my younger granddaughter, who is great fun to run away with. Shannon and I had been having an adventure and were at the Sonic, where we had just loaded up on large ice cream shakes. We were headed across the parking lot when two teen girls came walking toward us holding this tiny little black puppy. And my lovely Shannon said, "Look at the little puppy." She said it in that tone of voice that conveys such intense want and need that the grandparent is forced to respond. Shannon, of course, reached for the puppy and the girl, of course, handed it to her. <sigh!> See where this is going? I called my daughter and described said puppy and she replied, yes to Shannon's request. So when I dropped my granddaughter off, she was with pup.

Very shortly after that, I was with pup. Daughter and family live on several unfenced acres and small pup required frequent walking. Pup was also prone to chew...not on anything specific, but on everything she encountered. After listening to much complaining, I heard the news that they planned to take her to a shelter because she was just too energetic and was wrecking their household. <sigh!>

Let me just say that my daughter is a very smart person and she's known me all of her life. She knows all my hot buttons and how to punch them with great finesse. Yes, I drove out to the boondocks and back, said puppy in tow. I told myself, "Don't get attached. You have a full time job and work long hours. Dogs are not self-sufficient like cats. Just find a nice home for this little beastie. That was the plan.

I shopped for her. We have toys. We have small tennis balls. We have a Frisbee. We have a braided rope toy. I have to take her out in the fenced back yard to potty and for me to give her some exercise (and me as well) I have to throw her toys. She is so small that she trips when retrieving a regular Frisbee. And her energy level is endless. Side note: Her one trick is to fetch. This is because she has learned that if she does not bring the thrown object back and drop it at my feet, I will go inside. No, I do not fetch.

All this time, I kept telling myself, "I'm too old for a dog with this much energy. She needs a family with a six-year old boy to play with her."

The first thing I did was to invest huge wads of cash in small yappy dog. I paid for a year of vet care at Pet Smart which included all her shots and spaying and free visits. That was a chunk of money to invest in a free dog.  The vets fell in love with her and so did the very handsome young vet-tech who kept referring to her as my "Little Girl" and telling me stories about his "Little Boy".  I swear, Dog People are twice as crazy as Cat People.

It was on one of her visits to Pet Smart that I made a startling discovery. I was leaving Pet Smart one sunny afternoon on my day off with small dog on her leash. A thirty-something daddy was walking across the parking lot with a cute little boy about 6 years of age. My dog went into her adorable act and the little boy fell on his knees to pet her. It was love at first sight. The dad said, "That is the cutest little dog." To which I replied, "Want her?" The dad got down on his knees and was very agreeable to taking her right then and there. This was exactly what I had been praying for. Right in front of me, the very fulfillment of the prayers was manifested.

And then my dog turned and looked up at me with her little beady eyes. Those little beady "I love you" eyes.

Oh my God!!! I LOVE HER! I gave myself a pep talk about how this was the perfect opportunity to rid myself of this little pest forever...but she gazed up at me with such love and trust, and furious tail-wagging. I took a deep breath and picked up MY dog before wishing the man and his son good luck in finding a suitable pet. I got in the car and just held her for a long time before starting it up and driving us home.

~JD Faver 

Bonding and People Watching

I'm so excited! My new ebook, Perfect Match, is now available on:

Amazon   http://amzn.com/B007GTRIC6

Barnes and Noble http://ow.ly/9uLb0
Smashwords  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/138549

If you like a little romance, a little suspense and inspiration, check out the book. Now that my exciting news is out of the way, let's stir up a few chat topics and questions.

I'm celebrating six months of Indie publishing. It's been a fast, fun ride and I can't wait to see what the next six months bring. My goal is to connect with readers in the stories I write, the characters that nag until I give them their reins and hope you can bond with them as much as I did in stories I read.

Q.           Was there a special book's character you bonded with the most? Name that book!

I've read since I could hold a book. Well, okay. Maybe after I learned to read! I've also gotten into trouble for not answering my mother when she called. What can I say? I leaned against my favorite tree, engrossed in the books and was right there with the characters. I read a little of everything, but as a teen I found romance novels and fell in love with the characters and their jaunts across the ocean, country or across town. As long as the story wrapped up in a happy ending, so was I. Happy that is. Not wrapped up. J

 Q.           As a teen, where was your special place to read? Did you ever get into trouble for hiding away with a book?

Last week I spent the week with my son on a writing retreat. I absolutely relish my retreats. I didn't have laundry, the phone, or responsibilities. The only responsibility was to make my characters happy and finish the book, which I did. Now that it's finished, I have several choices of books to finish.

But first I have a short-short story to publish. Here's a short excerpt:

First Edition published in O' Georgia!

Revised Second Edition

STONE OF TRUTH

"Ever think of marrying again, Lylia?" Pencil-thin eyebrows furrowed in deep creases across Kysell’s damp forehead.

"Never," Lylia says.

            Lylia stared at the deep purple necklace that hung around Kysell's thick neck. Clearly exposed was the one missing stone, because the imitation she'd replaced the stone with was a poor choice.

"Oh." Kysell pressed her lips together, raised a fleshy hand laden with rings, and touched the twitch in her left eye. "I think people who say never, may live to regret their decision. What are your thoughts?"

Lylia patted the stylish graying knot, balanced perfectly at the back of her head. The thick hair Ben had once loved to bury his face in. Wispy tendrils fell softly around her face and curled under the collar of her crisp powder-blue dress.

In the beginning, and throughout their marriage, Lylia never questioned that Ben had loved her. He had. Passionately. Completely.

Mid-afternoon had produced another scorcher in Atlanta, with the temperature gage already soaring above 100. Earlier that morning, when Kysell rang her up to drop by and chat, Lylia had instructed Rose to serve lemonade on the south end of the wrap‑a‑round porch. A cool breeze usually blew in from the garden and she found the setting appropriate for Kysell's visit.

***

"What you choose to believe in and the values I choose to live by, are the differences on which we base our decisions." Lylia's fixed observation of Kysell never wavered "It’s my personal decision not to marry again."

Kysell set her lips in a threadlike line, and circled the ring of moisture from the chilled glass with a trembling finger. "Ben wouldn’t want you to be lonely," Kysell said. Her eyes slid over the immaculate flower garden below, unable to make contact with Lylia's intense gaze.

What a hypocrite you are. Lylia found it difficult to contain her contempt for the woman who'd befriended her, but she handled it well, considering. "I believe there are worse things than being alone. I've lived through loneliness in a room full of-friends."

Ben had been preoccupied the last six months of his life. Lylia chalked it up to his health or the sudden interest in time alone several afternoons a week. She stared out across the fields of clover and recalled how Ben’s interest had dwindled in his love of gardening, too.

At times, when Ben had gazed at her, a flicker of hope candled in her aged heart. It was as though he’d sensed her need for something more. A simple gesture to press his hand on the back of her neck, then guide her face to the safeness of his chest, was something he hadn’t done in years.

Passion as she remembered it, faded long before he’d crossed the line. Driven to possess, to demand a response, he'd only succeeded in manifesting numbness.

Q.           How often have you said never and regretted the decision? Then there are the times we probably should have said never and didn't.

Back to the retreat for a moment. It felt so comfy to laze in P.J.'s all day. Jump up, shower, have coffee on the deck and watch the ducks eat and swim.

My son finished his novel, then worked on his screenplay. He's a great writer and I can hardly wait for him to share his book with people who like to read Stephen King.

A funny thing happened when I checked out of the condo. I'd waved goodbye to our neighbors and headed away from the lake. The neighbor came in the door a couple of minutes after me. We chatted for a  while, but I wanted to get home and said my goodbyes again. He smiled and asked, "Are you a writer?" I thought maybe writer was written across my forehead or elsewhere. I told him I was, but wanted to know why he thought I might be a writer. He said, "Your car didn't move all week." I laughed. He was a very sweet character. A very observant character.

Q.           Are you a people watcher? Share a funny with us!

Until next time, I wish you butterflies, music and love.

Carol

In the Kitchen with Lydia

Lydia posing. She loves to have her picture taken.

If you see me around the ‘net anywhere you will have heard about Lydia aka Demon Dog aka Doggie Diva. She’s a black and white boxer that lets me live in my house and serve her whims.

Among Lydia’s many (less) endearing traits, she is a genuinely picky eater. I hear you dog owners saying I made her that way. Nope. She came that way. What dog do you know refuses a treat if it’s not the right one? Same with food – dog food or people food. There are times she manages to refuse all her treats and then sits and whines for one. After a while, when I simply can’t take it anymore, I get out different bags of treats and wait for her to make her selection. And yes, she does choose. Generally, she uses her paw to smack the bag of treats she does want, and her nose to reject the others. For the record, her all time favorite treat – that I have only seen her reject once—is duck jerky.

Consists of duck jerky for either dessert or an appetizer, lamb dog food (when she’s in the mood for dog food) and topping it off with some kind of salmon treat.  All that food could be too rich, but Lydia knows when she’s had enough and manages to put herself on a diet for a few days—aside from a few strips of jerky, she eats nothing. She’s such girl!

While the family room might be her domain, she loves hanging out in the kitchen. If she’s hungry and there is a pot on the stove, she stands in the middle of the kitchen and barks for it. There are certain words vital to any Doggie Diva’s vocabulary: food and hungry top the list. If something is cooking there’s a wait for it.

Last night I was making peanut butter biscotti. Lydia came to see what was going on in the kitchen. Told her I was cooking, so she went back to the Family Room. As the biscotti baked and the smell wafted through the house, Lydia’s nose went in the air. By the time I had them out of the oven and cooling, waiting to be sliced, she was sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor watching my every move. Finally, it got to be too much. She barked. The cookies were all sliced and on the sheet and she didn’t have any. I gave her a sliver of the end. After all, aside from the sugar, a biscotti isn’t that much different than a dog biscuit!

These peanut butter biscotti are among my favorite. Not only do they taste great, but they are on the easy scale. I keep thinking they would be super delicious dunked in hot chocolate, but haven’t actually tried it yet.

Peanut Butter Biscotti

2 and 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 3/4 cups granulated sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
3 eggs, beaten
1/3 cup peanut butter
1/4 cup water
1 1/4 cups roasted peanuts, unsalted

Heat oven to 350 degrees F.

In a large mixing bowl combine the flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt.

In a separate bowl, lightly beat together the eggs, peanut butter and water. Add to flour mixture and mix just until ingredients are incorporated. A little more water, a teaspoon at a time, can be added if mixture is too dry to make a smooth dough. Stir in peanuts.

Divide the dough into two portions, and form each into a log approximately 3 inches in diameter. Place the logs on the cookie sheet about 3 to 4 inches apart and flatten them slightly with the palm of your hand. Bake in preheated oven until light brown, about 40 minutes. Take out of the oven.

Turn the oven down to 300 degrees F. Let logs cool for 10 minutes, then cut into 3/4-inch thick bars. Place bars, cut side down, back on the cookie sheet and bake until crisp, about 20 minutes.

BREAKING UP IS HARD TO DO (Open letter to my Garnier Nutrisse shampoo and conditioner)

Dear GN,

I have been going steady with you since first we met. However, lately I'm not feeling the love. Yes, I'm breaking up with you.

From the moment I first saw you on the shelves, I was attracted to you. You were so good-looking in your sleek containers and rich green color. I couldn't wait to take you home. From the very start, I fell totally in love with you.

Yeah, you have always been a bit difficult to get to know. That snug little cap that some young product designer thought would set you off has proven to be a detriment to our relationship. There are times when you just won't open up to me. I've begged you... "C'mon, baby...Spill it..." But to no avail. The only way for me to get to you was to pry you against the ceramic shelf built into my shower.

I have begged you and cursed you and broken my nails trying to get to your inner core, but you don't seem to care.

When I do manage to get you to open up, I fall in love with you all over again. Your product makes my hair clean and silky and it smells great, but lately I've been asking myself, is it worth all this trouble and sacrifice on my part when you obviously don't care about my feelings?

I have to confess that I'm in a new relationship now. I took home another product, a great big handsome bottle of Pantene. True, Pantene is creamy and white as opposed to your gorgeous transparent green, but I'm asking myself, do I really want to put something green in my hair? Pantene is truly supportive and easy to get to know. He's bigger and bulkier than you. Yeah, I can go for that...a product I can get my hands on. And he opens up for me all the time. From what I can tell, this Pantene really gets me.

So, have a nice life, Garnier Nutrisse...See ya around, but I'm sticking with the one that loves me back...

~J.D.

(The opinions expressed above, belong solely to J.D. and may not be shared by her blog-mates...)